Courtenay and the Mercenaries

by Brian Withecombe

  “She will be of no use chasing anyone up that river Philip whether she has the new triangular timbers design or not!.”

  “I agree, but a show of strength is needed to reassure the King. I am sure you will find many excuses to transfer to a smaller craft when you need to!” Maltravers became serious again. “There is something odd going on here Giles, of that I have no doubt. I could understand the people being taken for slaves, terrible though it is, but the slavers might well have met up with one of our anti-slavery patrols out of Freetown. However, just burning a village and then attacking another to take the entire population is a mite odd.”

  “You say some people got away from the first village. Did our people there not find anything out from them?”

  Maltravers smiled briefly. “Yes, in fact they did, or I should say that Peter Minter did. He is the person who really does all the work there. Speaks the language, and very trusted by the King and his Ministers. He is the one you will get the help from. The idiot Spencer-White is just a figurehead. Apparently, Minter spoke to a young man who actually managed to kill one of the people who attacked his village. Brave lad. Attacked him with his bare hands it seems, took the pirate, or whatever he was, off guard, got his cutlass and, well, that was the end of him! He said they came ashore from a smallish ship, similar to ones he had seen before when merchant ones put in for water or to trade. It sounds as if it may have been a brig. Painted dark blue. We know, of course, that there are former French and Spanish sea officers who now head gangs of mercenaries, and who hire out their services to the highest bidder, but what money would there be in it for them just to burn a village? And, since they took everyone from a village further inland, why not sell them on as slaves? Charleston always has a good market for them after all.”

  “Very well. After another glass of that excellent claret, I had best be on my way. Where is the squadron gathered?” They returned to the small table with the decanter and glasses.

  “Alexander is at Portsmouth, together with one of your frigates, Tiger. and yes, she is still under the command of Captain Coles. You will see from your orders and the intelligence pack what other ships you have, and I have tried to give you as many Captains you know as possible. I assume Edward has left for his new appointment?”

  “Yes. When Avenger paid off I think he was worried he may not obtain another appointment, so he was very pleased, if not downright excited, when his orders came appointing him into Justify. I suspect you had a hand in that and I am most grateful.”

  Maltravers smiled. “Not at all. He passed his Board with flying colours, which came as no surprise to me at all, and the brig needed a new First, and only, Lieutenant. Be good for him, and, I suspect, for the brig’s new Commanding Officer.”

  “Who is that? His orders did not say.”

  “Commander Jonathan Pountney. I am sure they will have many stories to share!”

  “My God, Miles’ brother. Last I heard he was a Lieutenant.”

  “He was, but he has done well and deserves this chance, as does your son.”

  “I daresay it will be some time before I see him again, but that is the way of it of course.”

  Maltravers smiled again, this time broadly. “You will see him sooner than you think. Justify is your brig! As you know, she is at Chatham, but will have sailed around to Portsmouth by the time you reach there. What do you intend about a Flag-lieutenant?”

  “I will send a note to Justin Wetherby to ask if he would like the appointment, but time is short.”

  “That is of no concern. I guessed you would want Wetherby again, so he is in the next room, aching to get to sea with you again.”

  “Thank you sir.” Courtenay said formally. He stood up, they shook hands and Courtenay strode out of the room to find his Flag-lieutenant and then Alex Trafford.

  In the meantime, whilst his father was receiving his orders from Lord Maltravers, Lieutenant the Hon, Edward Courtenay was climbing the side of H.M. brig Justify, full of trepidation as to what his appointment was going to bring. He had served some time as an Acting-lieutenant on board the frigate Avenger and was not concerned about his watch-keeping abilities, but here, he would be in the position of being the only Lieutenant. He had watched the brig as the boat taking him to it had approached it, and she appeared to be in very good condition. He knew also the Captain was newly appointed, but he did not know the name of such person. His mind had drifted for a moment to the story his father had told him when he had been appointed to Seagull and he had found the new Captain was the bully that had been with him in the two-decker Claymore.

  He climbed through the entry port, lifted his hat to the small quarterdeck and then looked at the ‘officer’ of the watch, a young snooty looking Midshipman, complete with telescope under his left arm. “Good afternoon. My name is Courtenay, I am the new….”

  “Lieutenant, yes I know…sir. I am Maitland, the senior Midshipman.”

  “And how many Midshipmen do we have, Mr Maitland?”

  “Two sir. Myself and one other.”

  “I see. I had better report to the Captain. Please ensure my luggage is stowed in my space.”

  “Aye aye…sir. I shall show you to the Captain’s cabin…sir, and then arrange for your luggage to be taken below.” He led the way down a companion and Edward Courtenay followed, wishing he could kick him. Maitland knocked on a door, there was the command, “Enter!” and then opened it. “Lieutenant Courtenay sir.” Then he left.

  Courtenay stepped into the cabin and for a moment the sun coming through the sternlights blinded him, but then the officer in the uniform of a Commander moved to the side and Courtenay looked at him, hoping he hid the fact that the face was familiar, although he could not put a finger on why.

  “Ah, young Edward Courtenay! We meet at last. My name is Pountney, Jonathan Pountney. I am very pleased to meet with you.”

  “You are U…Captain Pountney’s brother sir, are you not?”

  Jonathan Pountney came round from his desk, hand outstretched. He had noted that Edward Courtenay had almost said ‘Uncle Miles.’ “I am indeed his little brother, and you, Edward Courtenay, are the son of one of his best friends and also someone I have served with in the past as a lowly Midshipman. He sat on the edge of his desk and smiled. It made him look like the Midshipman he had once been. “I am very pleased to have you Edward. You have a good report, and I know from a few enquiries I made that Captain Hoxton was sorry to lose your services. However, his loss will be our gain!” He grew serious. “I know this is all going to be as strange for you Edward, because you have not before had the responsibilities you will have here. You will make mistakes, as we all have, but you will not make the same one twice, yes?” Courtenay nodded.. “Good. Believe me, it is as hard for me as it is for you, because this is my first command. We will learn together, you and I, and we will make this ship the finest brig in the Fleet! Now then, sailing orders have just arrived. We will weigh anchor in the forenoon and sail to Portsmouth where we are to become part of a squadron under the command of a certain Vice-admiral Lord Courtenay! Wonder why the name rings a bell?”

  “I see sir. Do we know to where we are bound?”

  Jonathan Pountney frowned. “No, not yet. I daresay your father will tell all in due course. We are to join a squadron with a whacking great 98-gunner as your father’s flagship, so it must be somewhere important, three frigates and a schooner. I gather you may know two of the frigate captains, not to mention the Flag-captain.”

  “Sir?”

  “Captain Fenwick is the Flag-captain. I understand he was your Captain when you joined your last ship?”

  “Yes sir. He taught me a lot.”

  “Good. Excellent, then I hope to be able to make use of what you learned! Very well Mr Courtenay, go and find your way around the ship, then ensure all will be in order for us to up-anchor in the forenoon with the tide.”

  “Aye aye sir.”

  Edward Courtenay stepped out of the Captain’s cabin, still not use
d to the fact there was no Royal Marine sentry, and smiled briefly. This ought to be an interesting cruise, he was thinking.

  TWO

  “Very well, gentlemen, thank you for coming so promptly. From what I have been told by Lord Maltravers, and from what is in my intelligence pack, it would seem time is of the essence. Gather round and have a look at the map.” Giles Courtenay was standing at the back of his desk, looking at his Captains seated on the other side, all of whom had been watching him with barely concealed interest as to what their mission was to be. They moved forward and studied the chart.

  “The Kingdom of Balathia,” Courtenay began, “ruled by a King Khalfani, with his wife, Queen Tabara. A rich country, from all accounts, and one where the people are treated kindly. We have a particular interest in the country because HMG does a fine trade with the King in diamonds.” That got their attention.

  “Diamonds?” queried Martin Stevens, who had the 38-gun frigate Miranda. ”Really? I thought it was all copra and fruit!”

  “Martin my friend, your education is somewhat lacking in that case.” commented Harry Coles of the Tiger. Stevens dug him in the ribs with his elbow. The other frigate Captain was Kenneth Priestly, who had the Arrow,36, and he just looked on without saying anything. The other Captains were Jonathan Pountney and a Lieutenant Julian Enfield who had the smart schooner Dolphin.

  “Yes, Captain Stevens, there is a lively trade in diamonds, which is why the country is officially one of our Protectorates. There is, as you will see in your intelligence packs which Flags will give you before you leave, a Government presence there, in the shape of a Colonial Officer called Spencer-White.” He smiled at the reaction from those present who knew him. “Yes, I know, but he is not in fact the man who does everything, and whose name is Minter. He is the person we will deal with. There have been some odd happenings in Balathia, which do not fit in with the usual scheme of slave running or even looting. There is something behind all this and we have to get down there and find out what that something is.”

  “Perhaps someone is just after the diamonds my Lord?” asked Priestly. He looked abashed as there were smiles from the other frigate Captains and the tall figure of the Flag-captain, James Fenwick. “Have I said something out of place my Lord?”

  “No Captain Priestly, you have not, but my friends here know I do not stand on my title. There is no need to keep calling me ‘my Lord’.

  “Very well…sir.”

  “You raise a good question Captain and it is fair to say that was the first instinct of HMG and also Lord Maltravers, but then the second incident occurred, and started the clever brains, and believe it or not there are some in Government, thinking differently. Why did these people, whoever they are, just not go for the mines? Or raid the shipments. There is a small army, but not highly trained soldiers. We have some of our Military there, in a trading post close to the mouth of the River Bimara. The main town, Capital if you wish, is further upstream. Commander Pountney, your brig will be used for working upstream as far as you can go, and you, Mr Enfield, will attempt to go even further. I am told the river is navigable for a brig-sized ship for some distance past the Capital. I wish to ascertain if we can go further as we need to know. It seems a ship used by whoever it is that carried out the raids may well be a brig. It was painted dark blue. Black would have been more appropriate. We also know that there are many former French and Spanish naval officers who now hire out their services to the highest bidder and they are not fussy as to what they do to earn their money.”

  “You believe it may be such people sir?” asked Coles.

  “Possibly Harry, but it is too soon to tell at the moment. We will know more, hopefully, when we reach Balathia. One thing is certain and that is there is a coastline of some 150 miles to cover, and cover it we must. There will be regular patrols along the entire coastline and that is something our frigates will deal with. You will find me with you gentlemen from time to time. My flagship here, magnificent though she might be, has the only use, at least at the present, of showing the flag and assuring the King how seriously the Government is taking this matter.”

  “Looking after its investment, sir, you mean!” laughed Martin Stevens.

  “Exactly so Martin. Very well, gentlemen, we sail with the tide in the forenoon and we will make all sail conformable with the weather. Mr Enfield, you will of course be ahead of the squadron with Dolphin as I wish you to carry some despatches to the Flag-officer at Gibraltar. We will rendezvous outside the Straits. Commander Pountney you will act as liaison between the schooner and the rest of the squadron. How is your brother by the way? I have not been able to see him for some time, in fact since we returned from Algeria last year.”

  “He is very well sir, and asked to be remembered to you.”

  “Return to your ships, my friends, and tell your lads what we are about. Commander Pountney, if you would spare me a moment?” The others filed out, Stevens and Coles smiling because they knew why Courtenay had asked the brig’s Captain to remain. Jonathan Pountney also knew.

  “He is very well sir, and when I allowed him to have command for a short whilst we were sailing here, I was very pleased with his abilities, but…”

  Fenwick gave a short laugh and Courtenay smiled broadly. “But, Commander, only time will tell, is that what you were going to say?”

  Pountney blushed beneath his tan. “Well…”

  “Relax Commander. You are among friends. Your brother is one of our family. You have done well to rate a command in these times and I am sure he is very proud of you. You will push young Edward as hard as you have to. He has learned a lot, mostly under Captain Fenwick here, but he still has a tremendous amount to learn if he is to succeed in his career. Mind you, do not get on the subject of steam-vessels with him, otherwise you will not hear the end of it!”

  Pountney smiled, then laughed. Alex Trafford chose that moment to come into the cabin to clear up from the conference and he saw the young Commander, who looked almost the image of his older brother, visibly relax. He smiled to himself. It could not be at all easy to try to fit in where there were so many officers who knew each other and where he had his first command. One serious mistake and he could lose it!

  Later that day, the flagship had a surprise visitor in the shape of Jessica, Lady Courtenay. She had herself rowed out to the ship, and she even stood, holding on to the rower’s shoulder, to call up asking for permission to come aboard. The officer of the watch looked down at her, then at the quarterdeck, and back to her. He was saved from embarrassment by James Fenwick looking over the side at that point and calling down, “Permission granted your Ladyship!”

  Irvine, the First-lieutenant looked round first of all in surprise then in abject horror, as he suddenly realised this must be the Admiral’s Lady, and hurried down to the entry port. The Bosun was also there, making signals to his men to rig a Bosun’s chair, until Fenwick appeared beside him. “Avast there Mr Jepson! I fancy Lady Courtenay will make her own way aboard. Mr Irvine? My compliments to the Admiral, and his Lady is about to board us!”

  Then he turned and watched, smiling broadly, as Jessica Courtenay waited for the right moment and then stepped out, climbing onto the stairs and hauling herself up the side as if she was a member of the ship’s company. The men at the side looked on open-mouthed until a sharp word from the Bosun stopped them, but as Jessica stepped through the port, and Fenwick stepped forward, sweeping off his hat, they all started cheering, and about that the Bosun said nothing. He just took off his own hat and scratched his balding head.

  “Good afternoon my Lady,” said Fenwick as he took Jessica’s hand. “This is a most pleasant surprise. Does the Admiral….?”

  “No James, he does not, but I was not going to allow him and Alex, and yourself, to disappear off to the depths of Africa without saying a proper goodbye.”

  “Then please follow me, your Ladyship.” he said very formally, with a vast number of the ship’s company able to hear. He steered her beneath
the poop, and then turned to her. “You really are amazing Jess, do you know that? I wonder how many other Ladies would climb up to the entry port like that?”

  She laughed, then smiled more broadly as Trafford appeared. “I have come a-calling Alex. I would ask if your Admiral is at home, but I doubt he will be anywhere else!”

  “He heard you are aboard Miss Jessica, but he was just seeing to one or two things. Would you come this way?”

  He led her into the main cabin, which in a large ship such as the Alexander was spacious to say the least. Courtenay hurried out of his sleeping quarters, and took her in his arms, oblivious to the grins on the faces of his Flag-captain and Cox’n. Kingston came into the cabin with a tray of glasses, and she smiled at him, and patted his arm, causing him to blush under his tan.

  “What the devil are you doing here Jess? I thought we had said goodbye this morning?”

  “Well, we did, but I found out from the Port-admiral you would not sail until the forenoon, something to do with the tides, so I asked if it would be in order for me to pay a visit.”

  “And, I suppose, you smiled at him very sweetly, and he was unable to refuse?”

  “Something like that dearest. So here I am!”

  “And she climbed up the stairs.” said Fenwick.

  “You really need to stop doing that Jess.” admonished her husband. “It is not really very lady-like, after all.”

  “Fi on that Giles. Whilst I am fit enough, I will do so. I refuse to be hoisted up the side like a piece of baggage!”

  “Is your Ladyship goin’ to be stayin’ for something to eat?” asked Kingston, “Got a nice joint of beef that would go down well with some of that claret. Might even be able to rustle up something for afterwards?”

  Jessica looked at her husband, and so did everyone else. “Very well Kingston, so be it. We will sup together.” He turned as his Flag-lieutenant Justin Wetherby came into the cabin. He smiled warmly at Jessica and turned to Courtenay. “Tower has signalled that we may sail when we are ready in the forenoon sir.”