Chapter nineteen

 

 

For Robert, the events of the past two years had made him a rich man. He was restless despite the variety of jobs they had undertaken over that period. Things were happening in the world. Napoleon had declared himself First Consul of France, in essence King. Now the news of the recovery of Malta from the French, and here he was kicking his heels in London waiting for the world to wake up and recognize that he and his perfectly good frigate could be involved somewhere actually doing something.

His irritation must have been observed by the Admiral, who suggested that while Lord Mills was away it would be an idea for him to contact Captain Leclerc and get up to date on the current situation in the channel.

 

They met at Dover Castle in the officer’s mess, conveniently placed at the disposal of the Preventive officers stationed in Dover. The artillery men stationed in the castle were a friendly bunch and Leclerc had integrated well. In fact, he lived in the bachelors’ quarters when he was ashore.

In the corner of the great ante room, the two men were undisturbed as they sat over coffee discussing the activities of the past two months. It was while relaxing after they had been talking for over an hour, that Robert heard that Marc Charles was dead, hanged at Tyburn like the other convicted pirates in history.

Despite the chapter being closed, Jean Leclerc was not feeling any better. It was taking time to sink in, but he now had only himself to think of. If he was going to make a future for himself he was going to have to consciously put the events of the past two years behind him. He could no longer live for revenge.

 

“So what will you do?” Robert liked the taciturn Guernsey man and had noticed his restlessness; it was this that spurred him to invite him to London for a few days.

Leclerc surprised himself by accepting and one week later found himself dressing for dinner in a guest bedroom of the house In Knightsbridge.

His share in the prize money for the cutting out of the Corbeau Noir, and the arrest of the Tregarth brothers and their ship, had made money little problem. Added to the fact that his social life had been suspended since the loss of his family, meant that financially he was well off.

At the table he found himself seated between a rather pompous Lieutenant of the Life Guards, and the cheerful wife of the adjutant of the Grenadier Guards battalion currently stationed at the barracks across the way. The party consisted of twelve people evenly divided between six ladies and six gentlemen. Opposite Leclerc was sitting a rather grave-faced lady he judged to be 25-27 years old. She wore a ring and he recalled she had been introduced when he had come down for dinner, but he could not recall her name—just that she had no husband present. He spoke to her on two occasions during the meal and received a very civil reply on each occasion; it was after the men rejoined the ladies in the drawing room that he found himself standing next to the young lady.

He introduced himself formally and learned that she was the widow of Captain the Honourable Michael Yorke, of the Lancers who died in service under General Sir John Moore in Holland just over a year ago in 1799.

Margaret Yorke herself demonstrated a lively wit and Jean noticed her face lit up when she relaxed and smiled. The fact that she made no effort to remove herself from his company was noticed by Barbara, who had arranged the meeting in the first instance. Even Robert was unaware that the party had been organised specifically for the benefit of Leclerc. Hearing Robert’s comments on his meeting with the Guernsey man, and having met and been impressed by him in Plymouth. Barbara took it upon herself to arrange the party.

Margaret Yorke had been a friend ever since the house in Knightsbridge had become their London home. Barbara had found Margaret a charming companion when she was left alone in town whilst Robert worked. Pragmatically, she thought Margaret’s widowhood a challenge, one she kept strictly to herself.

The introduction of Captain Jean Leclerc to the scene created the ideal situation. As she mentioned to Robert that night, the two people seemed to suit each other very well! When Robert mentioned the coincidence of the two meeting, Barbara pointed out that a good hostess has to arrange for suitable balance of people at the table for dinner. Having invited Margaret she had to find a detached male to make up numbers. The visit of the Captain to London was fortuitous. At this comment Robert smiled to himself. He liked Margaret and also Jean Leclerc, so why not?

The call to the Admiralty came after three weeks, and after a meeting with the secretary, he left with orders to form part of the convoy to India.

“Being in all ways prepared for departure you will rendezvous with the convoy in three weeks time and report to Commodore Hillard on HMS Beacon 74.”

“You will open your second orders when you arrive at Capetown, and pass the enclosed envelope to Commodore Hillard.”

 

The days before the sailing date were all too short. For Robert and Barbara the time was taken with arrangements for the long separation.

For the rest of the crew of HMS Roister provisions had to be ordered, barrels scoured and washed with vinegar water, selected casks of beef and pork stowed and at the last minute, nets of limes taken aboard.

Billy Beaufort had the gun ports raised, wind sails rigged and the entire ’tween decks scrubbed down, giving the ship a fresh smell for a day or two at least. Powder was sieved and tested and stocks renewed and the entire arsenal of round shot was lifted from the hold and cleaned off, removing the rust patches that were produced by the damp atmosphere below decks. The boxes of fine powder for preparing cartridges for the rifle arsenal were carefully stacked away behind the felt curtains of the powder magazine. The Pre-prepared cartridges, well packed in their sealed boxes, also found their way to the Magazine, to ensure they would not get damp.

Preparing a ship for a long voyage was not the work of a moment, and though three weeks seems quite a long time, for the purser it’s all too short, Judith scolded him because he returned each night exhausted but she was aware of how important it was for him to do his work as he saw it. The scolding was for his benefit and she loved him none the less for his disregard of her comments.

When all was finally ready, the ship sat laden with stores, the final touches were being made to the paint and gilding work, otherwise all was ready for sea.

 

Robert sat with Barbara in the drawing room at Tamar House, the child David had been put to bed—still too young to understand the ways of grown up’s, Barbara was writing a note to Margaret Yorke, inviting her to stay for a few days in the coming month. Robert was smoking the long clay pipe, that lived on the rack on the over mantle. “It will be at least three months, if not considerably longer. You have sufficient funds and if you need more speak to Mr. Fisher at Cox’s.”

Barbara chided him, “Please, Robert, I have plenty of money and I will certainly know what to do if I need more.” She rose and went to him, sitting on his lap and hugging him. “I am more concerned about you, I will miss you terribly. So far we have been lucky; you have not needed to be away for long periods of time. I fear our son will not recognise his father if you are away too long.”

Robert wrapped his arms round Barbara. “As long as you remember who I am, we’ll manage. I have your picture beside me at all times on the ship and I’ll write whenever I can.”

The knock at the door interrupted their personal moment. The butler announced a messenger to see Robert.

The messenger had a package from Lord Mills. Asking the man to wait, Robert told his butler to see the man had refreshment and broke the seal on the package.

The documents within were divided into two sections. The first section was a simple directive to sail with the India convoy as far as Capetown, from there to the Indian ocean island of Madagascar, and at Tamatave on the east coast a man was to be uplifted. He would identify himself with the badge. The passage from there should be made with the intention of reaching India in the fastest time possible.

The second package was marked personal and to it was attached a note to Robert. ‘Open this packet only if you feel unhappy with the instructions given by your passenger. I trust you to make the right decision and I will back whatever decision you make’. It was signed Simon Mills.

Astonished he passed the instructions over to Barbara. He rang for the butler, and when he came he instructed him to tell the messenger there was no reply to be taken.

***

As the ship reached the softer weather south of the Bay of Biscay, the men became bronzed with the increasing sun. They abandoned the heavy oilskins and for three days the ship seemed to be surrounded by a cloud of steam rising from drying clothing. The first lieutenant permitted the clothing to be draped around the deck and lower rigging while the windsails were rigged to clear the fetid atmosphere below created by the foul weather encountered since leaving Plymouth.

The convoy stretched out to the West, as the frigate covered the possibility of interference from the African coast, clearly visible to the east.

The trade winds coming abaft of the port beam, made easy comfortable sailing and despite the irritation of having to herd the recalcitrant merchantmen back into position each morning; the task made few demands on the frigate.

Robert had been at the gathering of the Captains at an uncomfortable rendezvous on the flagship in the English Channel off Ushant. The flagship with her greater bulk and size was much steadier than the smaller ships of the convoy tossing about in the channel chop. The naval officers present made a stark contrast to the civilian dress of the merchant captains. The Commodore himself was a bluff senior Captain given the rank for his present command, probably his last in service. HMS Beacon was not the newest ship of the line in the fleet, but her sailing capabilities were adequate with the assistance of the other escorts. Apart from Roister, their old friend Jaipur was there and the frigate Penelope 36, the two other sloops, the Ajax 22, and the brig-sloop Richmond 20. The cutter Mavis had been added for swift communication throughout the large convoy.

The Captain of Penelope, Charles Grayson, was the senior after Commodore Hillard. Robert was quite happy with the arrangements which allowed him to concentrate on the training of the crew in their alternative role as riflemen. The crew was given their training by watches, the competition was fierce but the men were all encouraged to support each other, and through the easy sailing area of the north east trade winds the drills went well.

Robert was pleased to entertain Commander Keith of the Jaipur along with Lieutenant Ward of the cutter Mavis to dinner during the gentle weather. He was surprised to discover that the Jaipur was under sealed orders to detach from the convoy at the Cape. His further orders were to be opened at that time.

As the winds died and the temperatures rose in the doldrums, Robert requested permission from the Commodore to launch his boats, and to mount the small taffrail cannon in the long boat in case of attack by galley from the African coast. The ships were in the grip of the Guinea current which ran south and east following the West African coastline.

Using the opportunity of the moment, Roberet had the boats manned and the crews competing in sailing and rowing. The Commodore, who had presumed that the boats were launched to keep the seams tight, was amused and entertained to the extent that a competition was arranged between the escort ships, and a light-hearted regatta was held. The spectators spent most time in the rigging of the competing ships as the boats would disappear periodically in the long Atlantic swells.

Despite the frustration of the doldrums, the voyage progressed, stopping at Freetown to water and take on fresh fruit, dried fish and meat.

By the time Table Mountain hove into view, the convoy had settled to a routine that it seemed would go on forever; but anchored in Table Bay, the whole scene altered.

Robert delivered his orders to Commodore Hillard, who was upset at not having been informed beforehand.

The ship re-provisioned and a round of farewells was made. As he had suspected, the Jaipur had been placed under his command for a specific task that would take them to Madagascar and India in the first place, thereafter who knew?

“Well, at least we won’t have to battle the Mozambique current to get there, and from Tamatave north the currents should help.” John Keith nodded and drank his wine. They were discussing the orders in Robert’s cabin.

“I have strict orders to place Jaipur and my crew at your disposal, I am not sure why but I also have a separate sealed order to opened only if I am out of contact with you without orders for more than a month. Do you know what that is all about?”

“Sorry, John, I’m afraid I have no idea, and unless I am forced to open my own sealed orders I will never know. Now I think it’s time we were on our way. If you keep to a course parallel to mine but just over the horizon perhaps people won’t realise that we are together. I suggest you sail as soon as possible and I will sail tonight.”

The friends shook hands and arranged to rendezvous one degree south of Tamatave in a week’s time.

 

Robert was ashore in Capetown when HMS Jaipur sailed as he stood on the veranda of Government House discussing the progress of the war in Europe with the Governor and Commodore Hillard. The India convoy was waiting in Capetown for a complete week before sailing on to Bombay.

The Commodore had been unhappy to receive his instructions from the letters carried by Robert and Commander Keith, but he had to admit the two ships were not really required for the escort of the convoy; though he was convinced that the presence of the two ships had discouraged any interference on the journey so far.

The Governor had mentioned that there had been reports of a strange ship seen off the coast recently. She had not been identified as she showed no colours, but all the reports had stated that she was pierced for at least 36 guns, and she avoided contact with other ships.

When Roister sailed it was without formal signals or other ado. The anchor was raised as quietly as possible and she equally quietly sailed away. To most she disappeared without trace.

They sailed due east for two days before turning north following the Eastern shore of the great island of Madagascar. Keeping well clear of the shore they sailed north along the 50 degree line of Longitude to the meeting place on the 19 degree line, where the topmasts of Jaipur were spotted as she awaited their arrival.

Contact established, Robert was interested to hear that Jaipur had spotted the mysterious ship in the distance, ‘on the rise’, the expression used when two ships can be in sight because both rise on the waves at the same time allowing a brief sighting if you happen to be looking in the right direction at the right time. The mystery ship seemed to be following a course to the east parallel to the two naval vessels.

 

The entrance into the harbour at Tamatave was tricky at the best of times, and the politics of Madagascar Island were questionable always. The French had several trading posts here and the township Tamatave was one of the largest settlements on the east coast; based around the import-export operation of the major trading establishment. The Island itself was ruled by a warlord society, its history riddled with a succession of rulers from Arabs in the eighth century to Pirates in the eighteenth.

The forts at the entrance to the harbour were currently unmanned as the French who had designs on the Island had just moved out, trouble in Mauritius requiring their presence.

The two warships sailed unhindered into the harbour and dropped anchor, dominating the township under their guns.

Robert, accompanied by Abel Jackson, was rowed ashore by armed men who waited at the quay until John Keith joined them. The three men made their way to the big store that stood on the hill at the head of the street up from the docks. Within the building Abel made his way to the counter and spoke with the tall, stooped man waiting there.

They were almost immediately in deep conversation haggling over the price of the goods Abel was ordering. At the tables off to one side the two friends seated themselves and Robert called for a bottle of wine. Several others seated around the dark room resumed their conversations.

A stocky man carried a tray over to the table for the English officers. He placed the bottle on the table and returned to fetch the glasses. As he put the glasses down, he slipped a coin on the table and went back to the bar. Robert drew silver money from his pocket and counted it on the table lifting the coin placed by the waiter with his change. He inspected the money in his hand. The coin was marked with the M of D sign identifying the man as the agent they were sent to collect.

Abel Jackson came to the table, reporting that he had arranged for fresh water and fruit to be delivered to the quay. Glancing at the waiter he signalled to pay for the wine and the waiter came over. He accepted the money passed to him including the Identifying badge. As he leaned over to pick up the dirty glasses he said in a whisper he would board tonight before midnight.

***

The long swells lifted the ship in smooth surges that in turn, revealed and concealed the accompanying sloop. The lookouts had reported the sighting of the strange sail at first light, the tops being revealed against the dawn sky. To Robert this meant either their shadow was unaware he had been spotted, or intended that they know. He felt uncomfortable with the realisation that he was being manipulated by Lord Mills, and his meeting with his agent did nothing to ease that feeling.

The ugly little man had been taciturn to say the least. Having established his bona fides on his boarding the ship he had merely said, “We need to get to Bombay as quickly as possible.” He would say no more until the ship was at sea.

Patrick Micah Carter came on deck and stretched in the morning sunshine, short, five-foot five inches to be exact, his stocky figure showed not an ounce of fat. Dressed in a simple loincloth he walked over to the seawater hose that was pouring water on to the deck whilst the men were holystoning. With a sigh of pleasure he raised the hose above his head, hooked it to the shrouds and allowed the water to wash over him scrubbing himself with some sort of soap and a brush. Finishing with a sluice down he stepped back brushing the excess water from his skin and stood allowing the sun to dry him off.

The officers and men on deck at this time looked on in astonishment.

Ignoring the effect his performance had on his audience, Carter went below once more to the gunroom where he proceeded to dress in a thin cotton shirt and loose trousers. Slipping sandals on his feet, he came back on deck and approached Robert. “We must talk!” The voice was quiet and cultured with just a trace of the brogue of Galway.

“Please join me for breakfast.” Robert said formally, and turned to Ogilvie. “You have the deck, Mr. Ogilvie, rifle practice at four bells.”

“Aye sir, I have the watch!” Lieutenant Ogilvie squared his shoulders and strode over to the wheel where he checked the course.

In the great cabin below Robert faced Carter “Now perhaps you will acquaint me with the instructions you have to pass on?”

“My instruction is to get to Bombay as quickly as I might and to do whatever is necessary to aid and assist our agent there. I understand the agent is currently in the stronghold of the rebel party that is based at Daman, north of Bombay on the Gulf of Cambay.” The soft almost gentle voice coming from the ugly man was almost incongruous, but then the piercing blue eyes seemed also out of place. This strange man seemed to be a contradiction, one moment unmemorable, the next unmissable.

“How do you know all this? It has taken weeks for this information to reach England, how did you find out?”

“I sent the information in the first place by courier overland. I then came by Dhow to Madagascar to meet you. If you had not arrived by next week I would have returned and done what I could to rescue our agent. You see, I could not get the authorities to act by sending troops. I have no authority in the east India Company nor am I officially recognised by the Governor and his troops. It was necessary to get an official presence into the area to get the forces needed to deal with the rebels and rescue our agent.”

“What sort of force had you envisaged; I mean how many soldiers would be required? A platoon, a company or are we talking of an army?”

Carter looked thoughtful, “I had perhaps a company in mind, maybe about one hundred and twenty, would do it. A gun would be useful, yes that would help.” He looked keenly at Robert. “Do you think you can arrange that?”

Robert rang the bell on his desk and his servant appeared. “Call Captain Ullyet and bring coffee and breakfast for three.” Mathews, his servant disappeared and returned to announce Captain Ullyet and delivered the coffee and bread, fruit and cheese for their breakfast.

To save time Robert outlined Carter’s request for a rescue force, and while he did so had Carter draw a diagram of the rebel camp layout as he knew it.

Ullyet studied the diagram and commented. “I see no real problem here, the camp is laid out almost traditionally, I would almost suggest the leader is a military man, and like many soldiers he is thinking in terms of either undisciplined tribesmen, or formal infantry, with red coats and muskets. Using our riflemen, the base is vulnerable. We don’t need to approach by open roads, nor do we need to group to fire effectively. Our cannon would be useful to tickle up their artillery; I notice you have shown the magazine behind the breastworks. It would be difficult to reach from the main gate but not from the surrounding jungle. I don’t think we need bother the authority, sir, we can manage on our own.”

Carter listened with disbelief. “You have no idea what you are saying. I have seen there are only 20 marines on this ship. You are not suggesting using sailors for this task? Gopal has trained soldiers at his disposal, they’ll slaughter your untrained seamen, you’ll be sending them to their deaths, and achieve nothing!”

On deck four bells struck and almost immediately the crack of rifle fire woke the already disturbed population of sea birds sending then screaming into the sky from their perches through the rigging.

“Perhaps a turn round the deck would be beneficial.” Robert rose to his feet and, followed by Carter and a smiling Ullyet, went on deck to watch the rifle practice.

Carter stood open-mouthed at the sight. On deck under the eagle eye of Peter Morse, Abel Jackson’s deputy trainer, six men armed with rifles stood. Off the beam streamed a line with a raft attached. The raft had a fixed sail the caused it to keep abreast of the ship towing it. On the raft was a rack with six targets. Not surprisingly the raft was rising and falling with the waves. As he watched Carter saw the first rifle rise, hold, then fire. The midshipman of the watch had his telescope trained on the targets, “Top Inner” he cried. The watchers nodded in approval, meanwhile almost without pause the second rifle fired, “Upper Bull!” the Middy shouted, a cheer went up from the watchers. Carter noticed that the first riflemen had already reloaded; the other four shots were taken with varying results, though none missed their target. All had reloaded before the next round of shots was taken. After five shots were fired by the group the targets were retrieved and examined closely by the marksmen and their supporters.

“Well, Mr. Carter, what do you think now?” Ullyet’s voice broke into the stunned realisation of Carter that this was a most unusual ship.

The whole exercise had taken less than five minutes. Twenty-five aimed accurate shots within five minutes, five round a minute, the words went round and round Carter’s brain.

“These must be your best marksmen, I presume?” Carter had regained his senses and was all business once more.

“Oh no, these men are average for the ship, our best can fire and hit the target ten times a minute.”

“How many riflemen do you have on the ship?” Carter’s next question was natural, but the reply was difficult to believe.

“The entire crew can shoot, that includes the Captain. Of the crew, 178 are marksmen; the remaining men are fair shots. We also have a field cannon which we have deployed in the past. The entire crew have practiced field craft and satisfied the training officer with their competence.

“Our trainer learnt his trade evading and fighting redskins in the forests of the Americas. He is the man who set the standards for shooting. All the personnel on the ship have the use of a Fergusson breech-loading rifle. All can fire a minimum of four rounds per minute, most can exceed that rate. When I mentioned the competence of the crew, I include all the officers.” Ullyet completed his dissertation with a wry smile. “My marines are the best trained in the Navy, and they all compete regularly with the rest of the crew, and train alongside them. I pray that this information will not be passed to my masters. They have a jaundiced attitude to diverse training among their units.”

“Your secret is safe with me, and I now see why Mills sent you and why you think this exercise is within your scope.”