Courtenay and the Mercenaries

by Brian Withecombe

  Wetherby instantly turned on the man, his eyes blazing. He had never met Spencer-White before the other day, but he had heard plenty about the man. Jessica Courtenay had given him ‘chapter and verse’ and he had also asked Trafford about him. Once, he had had to discuss some matters with James Fenwick, and he was surprised to find that the Flag-captain was more than well acquainted with the person. He did not find out how Fenwick was so well acquainted, but from the comments he had made it was clear that the Flag-captain regarded Marmaduke Spencer-White as something far lower than the smallest living organism. Now he kept his voice level, but full of threat. “You will kindly address my Admiral as such, or as ‘my Lord’, is that clear, sir?”

  “Who the devil do you think you are, addressing me in that fashion!” yelled Spencer-White. “Damme, I have a mind to call you out, see if I do not. Young whippersnapper!”

  Courtenay spoke calmly but with a voice of the ultimate authority. “Spencer-White, I really would not suggest that you call my Flag-lieutenant out, for three very good reasons. One, you do not have someone here to act as your ‘champion’ because the last fellow you got to do that for you is dead, fed to the sharks. Secondly, you are a devout coward, and thirdly, Mr Wetherby here is a very, very good hand with either pistol or sword and he would probably end your miserable life in seconds flat with either weapon. That is, of course, if you actually turned up, which I doubt.”

  At this insult, given in front of a number of people, Spencer-White went all shades of purple, went to say something, and then disappeared back into the building. Peter Minter looked at Courtenay with an admiring eye and Horrocks was doing his level best not to laugh.

  “My word Admiral, I think I had best make sure I do not get on your wrong side!” said Peter Minter. “I confess I wish I could say the same thing to that person, but unfortunately, strictly speaking, he is my senior, so I cannot. Claret?”

  “Thank you Mr Minter. That is most kind. I apologise, but that man and myself go back a very long way, and none of the instances where I have met him were pleasant.”

  “He told us all, within a short time of arriving, about his marvellous career in the Royal Navy, and how the Admiralty had begged him not to resign when he left.”

  “Did he now? Well, well. The version I got was somewhat different.”

  “You will have to tell me one day.”

  “Perhaps I will Mr Minter, you never know! Now then, based on the information I have obtained, this is what I have decided to do.”

  When Courtenay had finished outlining what he intended, Minter nodded his head, was thoughtful for a moment and then refilled Courtenay’s glass slowly. “But will that not leave the back door open, so as to speak? Whilst you have your flagship in the bay, that is an excellent deterrent to anyone who thinks he can just sail in, but if you are not there? Whilst I realise that Justify will still be around,….”

  “She is hardly a match for a frigate or a corvette? Yes, you are of course right. She only mounts fourteen guns, and nine-pounders at that. However, things have been quiet recently and I have my frigates patrolling the coastline, so I am sure if anyone thought they might be able to sneak in, they would have to take a chance on not coming across one of them, and any one of my frigates is a match for anything we know these people have.”

  “Well, you are the Senior Naval Officer here, and you command the squadron, so if you are happy about it, whom am I to question it? However, a certain other person might, of course, and he is the Colonial Officer here, so he may have a few words to say on the subject.”

  “As you say Mr Minter, I am the Senior Naval Officer here and what I do with my ships’ dispositions is for me to decide,. and no-one else.”

  “His Majesty might not like it too much?”

  “I am sure he will know from his own intelligence that I have taken Alexander out of the bay, and I am sure you will tell him exactly why I have. You may reassure him I have his country’s interests at heart which is why I am doing what I am.”

  “Very well Admiral, if he asks, that is what I will say.” Minter rose and he and Courtenay shook hands. Courtenay nodded to Horrocks, who had been listening to the conversation with a certain amount of disquiet, and ran lightly down the steps with Wetherby behind him to where Trafford was waiting.

  “You chose not to tell Mr Minter about the rest of what we discussed then sir?” said the Flag-lieutenant as they strode back to the jetty.

  “No Justin, I did not. It is not that I do not trust Mr Minter, or indeed Captain Horrocks, but at the moment I am being careful about who knows what. In this sort of country, it is not unknown for corruption to be rife, and there may be more than one flapping ear only too ready to transmit our plans to whoever it is who is behind these attacks.”

  “Bit worrying to find Spanish and French together again sir. Even if they are renegades.” He paused for a moment then added. “Captain Horrocks did not appear too happy either.”

  They had reached the barge and Courtenay stood aside as Trafford then Wetherby filed down into it, before following them and taking his usual place next to Trafford at the tiller. When he had settled himself, he spoke quietly to Trafford. “Easy stroke Alex.”: Then he turned to his Flag-lieutenant. “I am sure he has his own worries about defending the Post and making sure there are no further attacks. He could certainly do with some more men. He must see Alexander as a good means of augmenting his defences. I could put some Marines ashore to help, but I am loathe to do that when I do not know yet whether we will have need of them.”

  Back aboard the flagship, Courtenay opened the local chart and with Fenwick looking over one shoulder and Wetherby the other, he traced a finger along the course he intended they should take. “If we can take this course, subject of course to the vagaries of the wind, we should be able to curve round into the bay at the spot where the attackers were supposed to have been collected. With the ship’s only means of escape at that point through the channel, he will be bottled in. At that range also, we can of course discourage his progress with some judicious use of your guns James.”

  “Martin Stevens will be in visual contact later on today, if he has stuck to his patrol plan. I will signal him to close on us and he can come aboard for his instructions.” Fenwick said, still looking at the chart.

  Courtenay smiled. “You think he may not have James?”

  “Martin is experienced enough to know when and how he can, ah, interpret his orders in a certain way, and he knows of course that you would never admonish him if in leaving his patrol line he found something useful.”

  “Yes, I wonder where he learnt to do that?” said Trafford quietly from the other side of the cabin.

  Fenwick had heard and laughed. “Yes Trafford, I wonder where?”

  However Captain Martin Stevens had not this time gone off his station, and before darkness fell, his smart 38-gun frigate Miranda could be seen at the end of her patrol line, near one side of the bay. Wetherby had already had the signal for the ship to close on the Admiral bent on, and as soon as the frigate came into sight, it was hoisted to the mizen gaff. The frigate immediately tacked into the bay and within half an hour, she had rounded up and a boat was being lowered in answer to a second signal, Captain to repair on board when convenient. However, that really meant ‘straightaway’!

  Stevens came through the entry port, lifted his hat to the quarterdeck and warmly shook hands with James Fenwick. Out of earshot, as they walked beneath the poop, he turned to Fenwick. “What does our Admiral want James? Has something happened?”

  “Not to fear Martin, all is in order…now, but our friend has a little plan in his mind, and your assistance is needed.”

  Martin Stevens sighed, making him look even younger than he was. “I do hope James this is not another one of his schemes where he is going to lead from the front?”

  Fenwick smiled broadly. “Not this time my friend.” They reached Courtenay’s cabin doors and the sentry rapped his musket butt on the decking, calling ou
t as he did so, “Flag-captain and Captain Stevens, sir!”

  “Ah, there you are Martin. Come in, sit down. Claret? Kingston, a glass for Captain Stevens please.” They shook hands and Stevens smiled at Kingston as a glass of claret was placed at his elbow.

  “What can I do for you this time sir?” said Stevens formally. He saw Kingston slip out of the cabin out of the corner of his eye, which left the three of them and Trafford, who was cleaning Courtenay’s sword, yet again. “Is this another one of your little plans you need my help with Giles?” he said quietly.

  “I have told the administration here Martin that I intend tomorrow to take Alexander out of the bay to enable us to spring a little trap. James will fill you in on the details, but briefly, the other day we had a little skirmish, and it was nothing more than that, with some people who were intent on blowing up the entrance to one of the King’s diamond mines. Not the open-cast one, the other one deeper in the jungle. We, ah, just happened to arrive in time to spoil their aim and we took a number of prisoners. As I say, James will fill you in with the actual details, but although I have not said anything about you and your ship to those ashore, who think that I am going to leave the door open, that is certainly something I have no intention of doing! Look at the chart. Just here is where these men were set ashore and our information is that in about three days, give or take, the same ship that brought them here is coming to take them off, although its Captain does not know of course there will be no-one there to take off.”

  “But he will find you and this ship instead, waiting for him? In the dark?”

  “Yes. With the aid of my night-glass I hope we will be able to cut him off. He will have to negotiate the channel close to the shore, under fire from us, and then he will find Commander Pountney waiting for him, if he gets through of course. However, by then, we will also be closing the shore.”

  “So where do I come into this?”

  “You are going to take up position here, after dark, where we presently are. You were telling me before we left home that you have a night-glass as well, so you should be able to keep a close eye on any ship entering the bay, and take the appropriate steps. Do not wait for any signals from me Martin, which could only be by rocket anyway. If we see the enemy, we will fire a blue rocket. If you see an enemy, fire into it. If anyone does try to sneak in, they will have a surprise.”

  “They might have a night-glass as well, Giles, have you thought of that?” put in Fenwick.

  “Yes, but if that is the case, they will see Matilda and haul off.”

  “So when do you wish me to take up your station?” asked Stevens.

  “In three nights’ time. With you and the other frigates patrolling, and my flagship not that far away, just over the horizon, I doubt there will be any intruders in daylight, and we will be in a good position to see if anyone approaches Balathia in an effort to get in under cover of darkness.”

  “Do you not trust any of our Colonial Staff Giles?” asked Stevens.

  “I do not know them well enough to be honest to be able to make any calculations as to their loyalties, but I believe Minter to be reliable, and also Captain Horrocks, who is the senior Military man there, but he has limited resources. However, as I said to my Flag-lieutenant, in a country such as this, corruption may well be rife. I do not know for certain of course, but everyone is an unknown entity, and I am sure there must be some people there who would be willing to sell information for the right price. The country may be doing well, and the King care for his people, but you know as well as I Martin that there will always be people to whom that is not enough. I am not taking any chances, that is all.”

  “Will your Sailing Master give me details of the bearings he has taken James, so that I can ensure, as far as possible, that my ship will be exactly where we are all now?”

  Fenwick smiled. “Have no fear Martin, Ben Richardson has plotted our position down to the last foot! He has the figures ready for you. How is your Master?”

  “Well, he lacks experience, having been a Master’s Mate until a few years ago, and he has never been to this part of the world, but he appears to be a good navigator, so I am sure with Mr Richardson’s figures and my night-glass, we will manage!”

  SIX

  His Britannic Majesty’s ship-of-the-line Akexander, of 98 guns, was on the starboard tack and sailing serenely through the deep blue seas of the Atlantic, just off the coast of Balathia. Its Admiral, Giles Courtenay, was standing on the broad quarterdeck, allowing the wind to explore his longish hair and open shirt. It was a relief to him to be at sea again and not cooped up in Balathia’;s bay, where the equatorial heat was intense and there was only the slight sea breeze to alleviate it. Out here, with a good firm wind over the starboard quarter, he knew the ship felt alive again. The effect on the ship’s company had been obvious as well. Some of them had never seen a tropical paradise before and were quite happy to allow the ship to sit just off the coastline and enjoy the plentiful food that had been sent aboard by the King. Others, more used to doing something, were less happy and there had been one or two fights. They were of no great consequence, but nonetheless, Fenwick had been glad of the opportunity to get his ship to sea again, if for no other reason than to get the men back to sail and gun-drill. Although both could still be done with the ship at anchor, it was not the same, and every man-jack aboard knew it.

  They had not, however, still got used to seeing their Admiral, and indeed their Captain as well, dress in such a casual manner. There were a few aboard who had served with Courtenay before, and Alex Trafford had not wasted any time in renewing old friendships, and there were some who had served under Courtenay’s Broad Pendant when he had been a Commodore. The vast majority, however, only knew Admirals who appeared all the time in their gold-laced uniforms, and who appeared aloof from the men who actually ran the ship.

  Now they saw their Admiral and Captain with not a uniform jacket or hat between them, and Courtenay had already toured the ship on the way south, speaking to as many of the men as he could. They often cast glances in his direction as they worked, but usually a stern word from one of the Bosun’s mates was enough to get them back to what they were doing. Fenwick had made it perfectly clear to his officers that in the matter of whether or not they wore their uniform, it was up to them whilst the ship was at sea. One or two of the more junior officers kept to their full uniform, but the more senior ones abandoned their coats in exchange for feeling more comfortable in the heat. However, the First-lieutenant was not one of them and remained fully dressed in his uniform, casting a slightly scornful look at those of his brother officers who dressed more casually.

  Fenwick joined Courtenay at the starboard nettings and let the wind ruffle his hair, which was a lot shorter than that of his Admiral. He knew that Trafford had been on at Courtenay as much as he could, to have his hair cut a lot shorter, as all the younger officers had been doing for some time, and indeed Lieutenant the Honourable Edward Courtenay had also dropped a few hints, hints which were totally ignored by his father. Even Trafford had removed his short pigtail and kept his hair not quite as long as it had been.

  “Good morning sir.” he said formally, knowing that everyone on the quarterdeck would be straining to hear their conversation. “Good to be at sea again.”

  “Good morning James. Yes it is, is it not? Nice to feel a decent breeze again. Your ship is making the most of it.”

  Fenwick smiled. “Yes, and I intend to as well! If you have no objections, I intend to have some sail and gun-drill. We do not know what we are going to have to deal with and I wish everyone to know what to do. There are some people aboard who are still not convinced that because we are supposed to be at peace, we still need to be prepared for anything. Dolphin is a good reminder of that.”

  “Let us hope when we return there will be some news of her being warped into the King’s docking area.” Courtenay said thoughtfully. “Have you given any thought as to her new commander James?”

  Fenwick smi
led again. “Not really. That is your privilege, after all. You are the Admiral!”

  “H’mm. You are not keen on losing your Senior, I know.”

  “Mr Irvine is a fine officer and a good seaman, but he is not a ‘small ships’ man, by any stretch of the imagination. I could not imagine him happily commanding such a small ship, where there is a lot closer contact with the men crewing it. You and I have served in smaller ships, and you had your sloop, so you know what I mean.”

  “I am sure there is another one of your officers to whom the command could go? I would not be thanked in the slightest if I took one of the officers from our frigates, after all.”

  “I will have to give it some thought. There is one officer perhaps who might suit. He gets on well with his division and he is not averse to getting his hands dirty or joining in and helping to splice a rope. Leave it with me?”

  “Of course James. When do you intend to carry out the drills? This is your ship James, and you will run it as you see fit.”

  “I intend to take advantage of each minute, so if you would allow me to take my leave, I will begin now.”

  “Carry on, if you please Captain.” said Courtenay formally, watching his friend stride to the rail where Irvine had bene standing and start issuing his orders. Soon, the ship was a hive of activity.

  The drills continued throughout the day. Courtenay shared his lunch with Justin Wetherby, who made a number of forays onto the deck to see how things were progressing, and spent the afternoon poring over the local charts again. Fenwick came to report late in the afternoon that the drills had ceased and he was pleased with the progress made. He had started the drills when they had originally left Portsmouth, and had found a certain amount of resentment, but after what had happened to Dolphin, there had been more energy shown by the ship’s company and things had improved.