A New War

by John G. Cragg

  “Where is he now?”

  “In my barge, sir. Under guard.”

  “Mr. Judge,” the Admiral said to his aide, “Be so good as to take him off Captain Giles’s hands. We’ll send him to London under guard along with these documents. They will probably hang him. And, Mr. Judge, have some copies made of this signal book, for Captain Giles and any other captains who call in here in the near future. It never hurts to be able to read the enemy’s signals!

  “Not yet, Mr. Judge. There is more to attend to. Captain Giles, I imagine that you would like me to take control of your prize. I have no doubt that the Admiralty will buy her into the service. We never have enough frigates, and the French build good ones. Unfortunately, port admirals do not have the authority to authorize such a purchase on our own. You’ll also want your crew back. Now you can see to it all, Mr. Judge.”

  When the aide had left, the Admiral again turned to Giles. “Your long guns arrived yesterday. You can load them tomorrow, if you still want them. I gather there was some sort of controversy as to whether Patroclus could take such heavy armament.”

  “Yes sir. Mr. Humphries of the Ordnance Board thinks she can.”

  “And I imagine you are short of powder and shot.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll have them sent out on the following day. Have your first lieutenant tell my people what you need.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “I can’t help you with crew, I am afraid, and I suspect that your press gangs won’t have much luck. That field has been plowed too often in Falmouth.”

  “That’s all right, sir, I am lucky enough to have a full crew.”

  “How very fortunate! Well, Captain, I wish you well in getting ready to sail as soon as possible. I hope that you will be able to dine with me tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, sir. I would be honored.”

  Giles returned to the jetty to find that the prisoner had indeed been taken in charge by the admiral’s men, and he could see a couple of laden barges going towards Kay-torze, probably a crew to take over from Davis, and possibly guards to start ferrying the prisoners ashore. He idly wondered what the French frigate would be worth at the Prize Court. Like all naval officers, he warmed to the contemplation of his share. He didn’t know how the division worked when he sailed under Admiralty orders or whether some admiral would claim the lion’s share of the proceeds for doing nothing, but he suspected he would not see much of that money. The wind was getting up from the west, he noted, but the anchorage was well protected, though if it got stronger by the morrow the task of transferring the guns would be rendered difficult.

  The lighter with the guns came along side at two bells of the forenoon watch. Giles had put Foster in charge of getting the guns and their carriages aboard and set up and also of sending down the bow chasers they had been using. He noted that Foster seemed to rely on giving rather vague orders to subordinates and letting them get on with things. They had reached the point when the first of the new gun carriages had been hoisted aboard and was now waiting for its gun to be brought from the lighter. Giles was idly watching the procedure from the quarter deck. He noticed that Humphries was descending the lee shrouds near where the lighter was tied to Patroclus.

  Foster glanced overboard, and ordered, “Mr. Davis, Haul away.”

  Davis repeated the order and the group of seaman started to walk away with the fall from the tackle.

  “Avast heaving,” Humphries bellowed from the shrouds. Giles took one step to the side of the ship and saw the reason for the call. The gun had not been properly fixed in its sling and was starting to twist in such a way that it could come loose at any moment. If it did, even though it was only a few feet above the lighter, it could easily go through the bottom, sinking the lighter along with the other gun and itself going straight to the bottom. Before he could commend Humphries or begin giving the orders to lower the gun delicately into the lighter, a high pitched bellow alerted him to new troubles.

  “Who counter-acted my orders? I’ll have his hide for that! When I give an order it is to be obeyed! You, there, in the shrouds. Was it you?”

  “Yes sir” said Humphries. “The gun…”

  “Sergeant at arms, arrest that man. It’s mutiny. I will have my orders obeyed. Now, Mr. Davis, haul away.” Foster was almost dancing in his anger.

  “Belay that,” bellowed Giles. “Mr. Davis, ease the gun back into the lighter. Easily, very easily. Try to make no jerks on the line.”

  Davis gave orders to comply. Foster whirled on the Captain. “Sir, I will not have my orders countermanded. I expect you to support me.”

  “Mr. Foster, are you telling me that I cannot give orders on my own quarter deck?”

  “No, sir. It is that man. He deliberately crossed me, telling the men to halt what I had ordered.”

  “Do you know, Mr. Foster, why this man gave the order?”

  “No sir. It does not matter. I expect you, Captain, to support my authority.”

  “Do you? I’m supposed to support you and not you support me?”

  “Both, sir.” Foster was so angry and self-centered that he did not realize the trap Giles was backing him into.

  “Humphries, thank you for your prompt action. I am sure that you saved us from very serious troubles.”

  “Captain, you can’t support him in his insubordination. I never heard of anything like it. Captain, I cannot serve in a ship where the Captain does not support me.”

  “Can’t you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then, Mr. Foster, I suggest you get your things and go ashore.”

  “I will. And the Admiral will hear of this. I have influence, sir, I have. And you will rue this day.”

  “We shall see. Carstairs, please help Mr. Foster to gather his belongings and have my barge take him ashore.”

  Giles turned his back on his first lieutenant to see how Davis was doing in extricating them from the danger. The end of the gun was just touching the floorboards of the lighter, and the lighter-men had secured a line to the muzzle to guide it fully down.

  “Carry on, Mr. Davis. I know I can trust you not to haul away until you know that it is safe to do so. Humphries, I meant what I said. You showed praiseworthy initiative. I am just sorry that the First Lieutenant misinterpreted your action.” Since everyone there had heard the altercation between the Captain and the First Lieutenant, they realized that Giles was giving a most improbable interpretation of Foster’s behavior.

  With everything back to normal, Giles resumed his station on the quarter deck.

  “Well done, Captain. Well done.”

  “I don’t know what you are referring to, Mr. Brooks. I hope you realize that we are about to sail with only two lieutenants and both of them very inexperienced.”

  “Better just them than adding that First Lieutenant,” Brooks muttered, loudly enough that Giles would hear it and softly enough that he could ignore it.

  Giles retreated to his cabin. Mail had caught up with Patroclus and there were letters from Edwards, Daphne Moorhouse, and Bush. Giles opened Daphne’s first. It was a note in response to the one he had sent her from London, expressing gratitude and delight about the improvements he had authorized. It must have been penned very soon after she had received his missive, for it made no comment on progress made. It did however, mention that Bush had suffered a mishap, was getting a new leg, and was staying with Mr. Moorhouse and herself. Edwards simply confirmed that arrangements were being made and that he would be visiting Dipton shortly. The letters brought on a surge of memories both of Dipton and of its inhabitants, but also of the comforts and interests that he had expected to pursue when ashore. He particularly dwelled on Miss Moorhouse, picturing her in his mind’s eye while replaying their conversations. He realized with surprise that he had been so overwhelmed by her lively and direct personality that he had not really appreciated her charms. What a lovely face she had, close to the classic ideal of beauty, saved from mask-like serenity by a
n up-tilted nose and by a face over which different thoughts and feelings swept like the sunlight on an open landscape when the sky was dappled by fast moving clouds. He had also not really noted in person what he now dwelt on in reminiscence: Her eyes had the blue of a summer sky, though flashing more like the sun shining off ripples on the sea. She had a very neat waist and well curved bust. He even idly speculated what she would look like if she were to adopt the new, loose French fashions. Shaking his head to clear it of unseemly though delightful thoughts, Giles resolved to go into Falmouth before his appointment with the Admiral to see what the small town might offer to relieve the bleakness of his cabin and help Carstairs in finding suitable cabin supplies for the coming voyage.

  Dinner with the Admiral turned out to also involve his wife, a cheery, buxom woman, far less austere than her husband, and their granddaughter, a girl of eighteen or nineteen years, pleasant enough in appearance though no great beauty, far longer on blushes than on independent observations. Giles was all too familiar how the availability of a successful frigate captain who happened also to be the son of an earl excited the match-making tendencies of the wives of senior officers and was well accustomed to being polite without becoming entangled. He did think fleetingly how much more he would have enjoyed the occasion had the woman who made up the party been Daphne Moorhouse rather than the insipid granddaughter of the Admiral.

  When the ladies had withdrawn and the cloth had been pulled, Giles and the Admiral settled to their port and to talk of naval matters.

  “I had your First Lieutenant in my room today, Giles.”

  “I am sorry if he caused any problem, sir.”

  “No problem, but rather amusement. You are well rid of that one, and rid of him you most certainly are.”

  “May I inquire what transpired, sir?”

  “Of course. He stormed into my office demanding that I remove you from command and restore him to his rightful place. I did glean from his rantings what may have happened. Did a seaman really countermand his order?”

  “Yes sir. The ship, or at least her new guns, were in imminent peril, which the man prevented from being realized when he called, “Avast hauling.” I have commended the man, where Foster wanted him flogged. I countermanded Foster’s next order as well, which is when he went berserk.”

  “Good for your crew member! Anyway, I told your Mr. Foster that as a port admiral I was powerless to change the assignments of officers sailing under Admiralty orders, and that he would have to take his complaints up with the Admiralty in London. I did point out to him that in refusing to serve under you, he was in effect resigning his commission. I sent word to the Admiralty with the same sentiment, and will now reinforce my message with the details you have given me. He won’t…” the Admiral laughed, “he won’t even be eligible for half pay.”

  “Why?”

  “In resigning his commission, he removes the Admiralty’s responsibility for him. I suppose that this leaves you short of lieutenants. I hope the ones you have are experienced and can step into his shoes.”

  “Not really. They were both given their commissions very recently. And I am short of midshipmen and the ones I have are some ways still from making competent lieutenants.”

  “I’m afraid that I can’t help you there.”

  “Don’t concern yourself, sir. I would rather have the lieutenant whom I have than have Foster as First Lieutenant.”

  “There were other troubles were there?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Giles went on to recount the failings of Mr. Foster that he had observed and the ones he suspected.

  “Incompetent,” said the Admiral. “A bugger, and shy. His previous birth was with Pritchard, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your Mr. Foster must have powerful people behind him. But this, especially as there are undoubtedly rumors elsewhere, should finish him.”

  “I would hope so. His being assigned to me might already be an indication that his patrons are losing patience with him.”

  “Let’s hope so.

  “Well, Captain, we should join the ladies. But if you feel that you have urgent business to attend to, I’m sure they will understand. Incidentally, you dodged my wife’s bullet with more aplomb than any of the others she has tried to snare.”

  Chapter VII

  The gossip which had so enthralled the gentry around Dipton faded away with the departure of Captain Bush and Lord David Giles. The work that was being done at Dipton Hall, the Dower Cottage and the Vicarage, under Edwards’ direction, provided some fuel for the fire, but not much since most of the workmen were from elsewhere. It was generally agreed that the young ladies’ fathers had been grossly remiss in not visiting the Captains at the Dipton Arms, despite the fact that the short time the targeted officers had stayed in the Inn had rendered such visits impractical.

  The eagerness with which the returns of Captain Bush and Lord David were anticipated was somewhat stifled by the unfortunate arithmetic of the situation. Counting people of marriageable age, the new arrivals would add three men and four women: Giles half-nieces and Bush’s sisters against the two captains and Lord David. Furthermore, one of the men, the prime catch of all, had the disadvantage that he was much grander than the others and, as Mr. Moorhouse had pointed out to Daphne, it was unlikely that Captain Giles would wed one of the local beauties. The same consideration applied, though possibly to a lesser extent to Lord David. The prospects of the widows of Dipton were also weakened by the coming presence of Captain Bush’s mother and of Captain Giles’ older half-sister. Lady Marianne was likely to outshine them all. This was, however, considered to be irrelevant since the only widower of any substance or good health in the neighborhood was Mr. Moorhouse. He had succeeded in resisting with ease all the widows’ charms.

  Daphne Moorhouse was widely considered to have obtained for herself a most unwarranted advantage by having inveigled both Lord David and Captain Bush into staying at Dipton Manor until their own homes were ready. The resentment that these facts produced was hardly lessened by Daphne’s oft repeated claim that she had no interest in marriage, though it was somewhat mitigated by the eagerness with which she now was directing work on both her father’s and Captain Giles’ lands. A woman whose chief interests seemed to be crop yields and mucking about in drainage programs could not possibly rival the matrimonial attraction of more properly behaved young ladies, well-groomed in the art of pleasing conversation and accomplished in music. The facts that Daphne was at least as accomplished on the piano as three quarters of the would-be brides and that she always seemed to have no lack of men interested in her conversation were comfortably overlooked by those who would diminish her threat in the matrimonial derby.

  It can therefore be no surprise that the news that a Yorkshire militia regiment was to be billeted in Ameschester was met with fascination in Dipton and all the surrounding area. Ameschester was a small market town about ten miles from Dipton. Though of modest size, Ameschester was by all odds the nearest town of any consequence to Dipton. Young ladies from Dipton would often walk in groups to Ameschester to explore the offerings in the shops and to take tea in the tea room. With the regiment would come their officers and some of those officers might well be gentlemen of interest to the young ladies of Dipton.

  The regiment was one of those that had been raised in ’95 in light of the danger of invasion after the Duke of York’s expedition had returned with nothing but wounds to show for their expensive sojourn in the Low Countries. The colonel of the militia regiment, who had first raised the regiment and after whom it was named was Lord Mosley, but he had not come south with the regiment which was under the command of their lieutenant colonel, James Craig, a lowland Scot who was a solicitor in Leeds.

  The regiment held a dress parade on the cricket pitch at Ameschester on their arrival, and crowds came from all around to welcome the soldiers and to admire their performance. Dipton itself sent no fewer than seven carriages filled with young
ladies and their chaperones. Excitement among the ladies was immense. Dipton’s supply of eligible young men of quality had been diminished when Ameschester’s own, locally-raised, militia had gone on maneuvers to other areas and some of their officers had married ladies whom they had met in those places. It was now Dipton’s turn to level the balance. Even ladies who doubted the desirability of marrying someone from the bleak and cold northern county still counted on the arrival of the regiment to enliven their rather limited social scene and provide them with opportunities to display their charms to young gentlemen from the other side of Ameschester.

  The parade was a splendid affair as the troops displayed their skills. The officers had striking uniforms, scarlet with bright yellow facings and elaborate needlework in black. Their horses looked like first-rate mounts and rumor had it that many had brought several horses with them, including hunters, so that if the regiment were to stay a while, the Ameschester Hunt would become a much larger event. The only sour notes about the affair were voiced by Captain Morse and Major Dimwhittle who had participated in the Duke of York’s expedition and were now retired as a result of gout and the onset of creaky joints.

  “They don’t really know the drill, do they, Major?” asked Captain Morse.

  “No Morse, there isn’t that snap of soldiers who have drilled long enough that it becomes mindless,” replied Major Dimwhittle.

  “I hate to think what would happen if these fellows were in the line when one of Boney’s columns advanced.”

  “They’d wet their trousers. Twice. Once before they ran and once in the channel where they’d drown,” chortled the Major disregarding the geographic nonsense of what he suggested in favor of the witticism.

  The celebration of the arrival of the Regiment was enhanced when the officers provided light refreshments for the local gentry following the parade. Though there were far more locals than officers and the officers were even outnumbered by the eligible young ladies, the occasion gave several of Dipton’s own matrimonial hopefuls the opportunity to meet with young lieutenants and subalterns without bothering about proper introductions. Their mothers, noting this, realized that they had to warn their daughters of the dangers of men whose families they did not know and whose standing in their own communities was uncertain. All the older ladies had heard too many tales from elsewhere of officers who had seduced young ladies, even in some horrifying cases by promising marriage when the ‘gentlemen’ were already married, and of others who had likewise compromised young ladies before their regiments departed. The same ladies also resolved to remind their female servants of the awful consequences that would ensue should their charges become with child. How effective the talks were with either group is doubtful. The warnings were delivered in too circuitous a manner to give any real idea of what was the source of the danger that young ladies must avoid.