A New War

by John G. Cragg

  “Oh, Captain Bush, where are my manners?” Daphne looked quite distressed realizing that politeness dictated that she should have asked after her guest before recounting her own adventures.

  “Everything worked out much better than I expected. Unfortunately, I do have one problem. The Dower Cottage will not be ready for some time, so I will have to find lodgings for my mother and sisters in the interim. I just don’t know where to look for the accommodation.”

  “That’s no problem,” Daphne responded. “We have lots and lots of unused space here with only my father and me in a house that is supposed to have a large family and frequent guests. Father, won’t you invite Captain Bush to stay with us together with his family until the Dower Cottage is ready. No, no, Captain Bush, it would be no trouble to have all for you to stay with us and I am quite looking forward to getting to know your sisters. Don’t you agree, Father.”

  “Yes indeed. You would all be most welcome, Captain Bush. I would like to have the house livelier.”

  So it was settled. After dinner, Captain Bush wrote to his mother telling her about the plans and enclosing a letter from Daphne Moorhouse extending the invitation. When he went to bed that evening, he reflected on how the mountain of problems that he had faced when Giles left him at Dipton had disappeared. Even the question of his career did not worry him any longer. If he were offered a command, he would consider it, but if he were not, he could quite imagine being content with life as a village gentleman. The problem of winning a wife, which had once been a priority when he was ruminating on his future at the Dipton Arms, had quite slipped his mind.

  Chapter VI

  Patroclus’s journey down river went without incident. They dropped the pilot when they reached the Solent and were soon out into the Channel. The wind had backed into the west and strengthened as Patroclus left the land. Giles and the master, Mr. Brooks took delight in trying different combinations of sail and sailing directions in order to study how Patroclus behaved and to determine what her best points of sailing were. As this exploration went on, the crew was getting a first-class introduction to all aspects of sail handling. Giles’ and the Master’s prime concern was how easily Patroclus tacked and what tendencies she had to miss stays. Overall they were well pleased with her performance, the ship only missing stays on two occasions. They felt that they could overcome that danger by slightly changing the order with which the sheets were let fly and the yards brought around. By contrast, when they wore ship instead of tacking, the loss from turning downwind usually far exceeded the danger of missing stays. They would of course have to study these problems under different states of the wind and the sea, but for now they were well pleased with the performance of the ship and of the crew.

  As these sail-handling exercises were going on, Lieutenant Foster, aided by the other two lieutenants, was exercising the gun crews, practicing loading and running out the guns, and then running them back in again to have a mock swabbing out, so that they were ready to load again. It was good practice, but not really the equivalent of actually firing the guns. In most ships, that was about all the practice that was allowed (the Admiralty clerks being very parsimonious about the amount of powder and shot that could be used in practice.) Many captains, realizing that there was no substitute to actually firing the guns, purchased powder and, in some cases, shot from their own pocket so that practice could be more realistic, though everyone knew that the ultimate test came when the crews were being fired on as well as firing, Giles was prepared to spend a considerable amount on powder and shot although, in this instance, it turned out not to be necessary. At four bells of the afternoon watch, Hughes approached him.

  “Captain, I wonder if we shouldn’t try the guns fully loaded. I would particularly like to see how the ship’s fabric stands up to the recoils of the guns. The Ordnance Board will, of course, pay for the supplies expended.”

  Giles was only too happy to agree. For the next two hours, the guns fired in sequence and as a broadside, the latter of particular interest to Mr. Hughes since it put the most stress on the ship. The last set of exercises involved the bow chasers, single and double-shotted, singly and in unison. For the last sequence, Hughes again disappeared into the bow of the ship to see how the structure stood up to the pressures being placed on it. He emerged after the guns had fired, looking pleased.

  “I think, Captain that the ship can accommodate these bow chasers, and I feel that she might be able to take long thirty-four pounders. But before making that recommendation, I shall await further tests with these ones. The special guns have already been ordered from the foundry.”

  The exercise was completed just as eight bells rang. Giles felt entirely satisfied with progress so far, but that satisfaction did not last long. Three bells of the first watch had just rung when the Marine sentry announced Giles’ coxswain.

  “Yes, Carstairs.”

  “Sir, I am afraid that we may have a problem with Mr. Foster.”

  “Yes?”

  “I noticed Mr. Foster going down to the orlop deck with one of the ship’s boys. I got Mr. Hendricks and we went after them. Mr. Foster was very angry at our intrusion, indeed he threatened to have us flogged, despite the fact that we are both petty officers. Mr. Hendricks claimed that we were there by your orders to check the hull again for leaks after all the firing of the guns this afternoon. Mr. Foster then hurried away. I don’t think that the lad had come to any harm before we arrived.”

  “So you think that Mr. Foster is a … a … a boy bugger?”

  “Yes, sir, though he may also be a molly-boy.”

  “Whichever, this is the last thing I need. I wonder now if some of the rumors about Captain Pritchard are true and Foster was his plaything. Anyway, you didn’t see any sodomy did you?”

  “No sir. Their clothing was a bit disheveled, especially the boy’s, but no, nothing directly implying that they had already been up to … well, you know what.”

  “Thank heavens, especially for the boy. But it poses a dilemma. If I do nothing, Lieutenant Foster may well be caught in a flagrant act, and then I would have no choice but to hold Foster for a court martial and to hang his partner. The court martial would keep us in harbor while our mission is urgent. But what can I do? I suspect that confronting him without proof would simply make him worse, harder to catch, but not stop him. I can’t have the Master at Arms watch him all the time.

  “Damnation, how I wish I were rid of him.

  “Well, Carstairs, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I shall have a word with Mr. Foster, though it may not do much good. And I’ll order you and Hendricks to regularly check the more obscure parts of the ship on the excuse of checking the state of the hull. I know it will make me appear to be a mother fuss-budget, but the alternative is worse. Pass the word to the other petty officers to try to protect the ship’s boys and to find excuses to be in places where the first lieutenant has got himself where he doesn’t really belong. We all know this sort of thing happens, but not between officers and crew, especially not the boys who have no way to defend themselves… I know some of the boys are as bad as any of the crew when it comes to unmanly acts, but that doesn’t mean I can completely ignore what they do. Let me think about it.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. But don’t tell Mr. Foster that I told you. He has too many ways to make my life and Mr. Hendricks’s miserable if he thinks we ratted on him.”

  “No. I’ll say I heard the rumors elsewhere.”

  “Thank you, captain.”

  “Carstairs, pass the word when you leave for the gunner to see me.”

  In minutes, the gunner was announced by the marine sentry. The gunner was an old salt, gray-haired and a bit stooped, but an absolute genius when it came to his guns. He was also very determined to look after the boys as best he could, in the absence of a matron.

  “Mr. Abbott, we may have a problem of buggery, involving your boys.”

  “Aye sir, Carstairs told me. They are not really my boys, except when the gun
s are in action when they are my powder monkeys and they carry messages. They are the boatswain’s nippers when the anchor is raised. But without a matron, they are rather at a loose end half the time. I do try to keep an eye out for them, but I can’t really control them.”

  “I know. I appreciate your efforts. But the problem is that I know the adult who is responsible – and so do you, I imagine. I am about to confront him, and I was going to say that I learned about it from you, to divert his suspicions from Carstairs.”

  “Yes, sir. If Mr. Carstairs hadn’t said he would be talking to you, I would have come.”

  “Yes, well, I am going to try to put the fear of God, or rather of the Admiralty, into him. I have ordered that the remote areas of the ship be patrolled. I would like you to mention to the boys the hazards of going off with an adult alone.”

  “I’ll be glad to do that, but you have to realize that they would have a very difficult time refusing a command from an officer.”

  “I know, but we can only do what we can. I’d rather not have him engage in anything that would require me to hold him for a court martial. And you can tell the boys that if they are caught doing something like that, they would probably hang.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. It seems so unfair, after you were able to transfer us old Phoebes to Patroclus that we should now be saddled with this problem.”

  “Yes, well Mr. Abbott, carry on. Oh, and tell the First Lieutenant that I want to see him.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Foster appeared in a few minutes, He was dressed in clothes that were very fine both in their fabric and their cut, rather surprising in a lieutenant’s working uniform.

  “You sent for me. Sir.”

  “Yes, Mr. Foster. I hear tales that we may have a sodomy problem on board.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes. Apparently it involves the ship’s boys and some adults. Bad business, if its’s true. Bad business even if it is not true. Do you know anything about it?”

  “No, sir. I hadn’t even heard the rumors. Who told you?”

  “Mr. Abbott, the gunner. He takes some responsibility for the boys. If true, it could be a very bad business. I suppose that you do know that buggery is a capital offense? I would be very unhappy to have to hang a boy who had been led astray. The man who did that should indeed be hung!”

  “What do you suggest we do, sir?”

  “I want you to inform the wardroom of the dangers and the seriousness of the offense. And to suggest that everyone keep an eye out for any evidence of who the perpetrator might be. We may not catch him, unfortunately, but these precautions may make him leery of following his disgusting proclivities.”

  “Yes, sir, I agree. Was there anything else, sir?

  “No. Get on with it.”

  When Foster had left, Giles leaned back in his chair and reflected on what lay ahead. Hopefully he had put enough emphasis on there already being rumors that Foster would think twice before renewing his endeavors with the ship’s boys. But it would only be a temporary relief, he suspected. Somehow he had to get rid of Foster, in such a way that his own mission was not delayed.

  The day’s practices had gone better than he could have hoped for; the ship was rapidly settling into the efficient fighting machine that it should be. While firing the guns, several naval vessels had approached them, attracted by the sound of gunfire. While this had produced some good exercise for the signals midshipman, it had not advanced the war one iota. Mr. Hughes still had some tests he wanted to run on the guns, but the ship was well able to defend herself already. It would be better to see if the sound of their guns could lure a French ship into a battle in the ensuing days.

  Giles went on deck to find that Mr. Brooks was there as well as Davis, who was officer of the watch. It was the work of minutes to consult with the Master about the course to set for Cherbourg and to issue the orders. The usual organized chaos erupted until the sails had been adjusted for the new course. Giles remained on deck to chat with Brooks.

  “I suppose you have heard about Foster and the boys?”

  “Aye, sir. A rotten development. And you won’t stop him for long, you know. That sort never do desist.”

  “I know, and I’m hard put on how to get rid of him.”

  “Aye. I hope you find some way. I don’t relish a long voyage with that bugger.”

  Giles returned to his cabin now dreading even more the problems he might have with his first lieutenant.

  Patroclus raised the coast of France shortly after sunrise on the next day. They renewed their sail handling drills and the practice of loading and running out the guns. Mr. Hughes approached Giles at 3 bells of the forenoon watch.

  “Captain, I would like to fire the bow chasers with powder and shot, especially to see exactly where the balls land.”

  “Very good, carry on”

  “It might help if you would float some empty casks to serve as targets.”

  “I’m not sure we have any. If the cook or the purser have some you are welcome to use them. Mr. Miller, would you help Mr. Hughes, and relay any instructions that he has about altering course and so on.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Excellent, Captain. Incidentally, I hope you realize the cost will be borne by Ordnance Board, and not by you.”

  “I hadn’t thought of who was paying for it, but I’m glad to hear that you are, even though I was quite prepared to pay for the exercise myself.”

  Four empty casks were found, the first of them was dropped, and Patroclus wore around so that her bow would face the cask. With Giles’ permission, Hughes first directed the quartermasters on the best way to steer. He found out that the helmsmen certainly knew what they were doing and rapidly understood that the trick was to adjust the steering as much as possible to allow predictable swings of the bow so that one could anticipate just when it would be pointing at the target.

  “Your quartermasters are very well trained and perceptive, Captain Giles.”

  “The Master, Mr. Brooks, should get credit for that.”

  “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll go and see how the bow chasers are doing, and maybe I can give the gun captains some hints.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Hughes. Possibly, Mr. Davis should attend as well as the midshipman who is assigned to the guns. He will be in immediate charge of the bow chasers when we go into action.”

  “Very good, Captain.”

  Giles gave orders to Mr. Foster, who happened to be officer of the watch, on how to maneuver so as to bring the bow into line with the cask and how to proceed when the bow chasers missed it. Luckily, Mr. Brooks was also on deck and they exchanged glances to indicate that Mr. Brooks should intervene only if there was a serious difficulty since it would give Giles a chance to see how Mr. Foster was at ship handling. Giles went forward to see what was happening. He took up a position a bit removed from the group that Hughes had assembled around himself.

  Giles was immediately impressed that Mr. Hughes was not giving commands, but instead he pretended to be making suggestions and readily accepted comments from the others.

  “You will all appreciate,” said Mr. Hughes, “that the ship cannot steer directly to any target, but must yaw back and forth about the line that it is sailing. As a result, I would suggest that, for satisfactory results, you will have to adjust your firing to the time when the bow of our ship is pointing just at your target. It is a little more complicated than it might seem, because from the time you pull the lanyard to the time that the gun actually fires, several seconds pass. How long, depends on the gun. Anyone have any idea of how long that will be?”

  “Three seconds, sir, for the larboard gun,” announced Graham, the gun captain of the larboard bow chaser.

  “Quite correct. And how do you know that …?”

  “Graham, sir. I counted it off when we were practicing.”

  “And how did you count?”

  “One thousand, two thousand, three thousand, and so on, sir.”

  “A ve
ry good way to do it. Incidentally, it is best if each of you determines the time by your own count, since that is what you will have to use in reality. Anyone have any idea of how you might use it to improve your aim? ... Yes, Midshipman …?”

  “Stewart, sir. Could you choose a point on the bulwark that is in line with the target and then count to see how long it takes the bow to swing so that the gun is pointed towards it after the count is made?”

  “A very good suggestion, Mr. Stewart. Especially, since you can then adjust your reckoning until it is about right. Do that before you start to fire since it usually takes a few tries to get it right. There is just one further thing to allow for. What would that be? … Yes, Graham?”

  “The motion of the target. If it is a ship, you have to allow for how much it moves from when you pull the lanyard and the gun fires.”

  “Quite right. You have to use the same method to try to allow for it. The one other thing you have to remember is that you will be getting closer and closer to the target as you keep on firing, so you have to redo the allowance a bit each time. It takes some time to get used to all this, which is why practice is a good idea. I suggest, Mr. Davis, that we start the practice.”

  While this had been going on, Patroclus had come around in a circle so that the bow was now facing towards the cask, several cables ahead. The bow chasers started firing at it, first the larboard and then the starboard. The first shots were quite wide of the mark, and raised a few friendly jeers from other gun-crew members who were off-watch and wanted to see the fun. The next shots were closer, so much so that by the time they ceased fire temporarily so that Patroclus could come about to again have the bow pointed towards the cask, mild bets were being laid, some as to whether the cask would be hit at all, and others as to whether the larboard or the starboard gun would score the first hit.

  Seeing all was well, Giles returned to the quarter deck. Just before the gun-practice had to be interrupted once again in order to bring the ship around to aim at the cask, a loud shout erupted from the forecastle. The starboard gun had hit the cask! The spirits of the crew rose immediately.