Sugar and Spice (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 6)

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by Andrew Wareham




  Book Six: The Duty

  and Destiny Series

  From the author of the acclaimed,

  ‘A Poor Man at the Gate’ Series

  Andrew Wareham

  Digital edition published in 2015 by

  The Electronic Book Company

  A New York Times Best-seller

  Listed Publisher

  www.theelectronicbookcompany.com

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  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

  Sugar and Spice

  Copyright © 2015 by Andrew Wareham

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents:

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  By the Same Author

  Introduction

  Sugar and Spice: Frederick Harris is given command of a small squadron of ships with orders to sail to the Caribbean at a time when who is at war with who is never quite certain. He suspects that for political reasons the mission could turn out to be a poisoned chalice.

  Author’s Note: I have written and punctuated Sugar and Spice in a style reflecting English usage in novels of the Georgian period, when typically, sentences were much longer than they are in modern English. Editor’s Note: Andrew’s book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

  Book Six: The Duty and Destiny Series

  Chapter One

  A Commodore of the Second Class wore the uniform of a Rear-Admiral – a star on the epaulette and a line of wavy lace at the cuff to distinguish him from a mere post-captain. It looked very imposing to Frederick, and the tailor’s bill would no doubt be proportionate to its glory. Commodore was an appointment, not a rank, and the fortunate holder would return to his role of post-captain on completion of the particular commission given by the Admiralty, but it was a mark of distinction and would normally lead to a number of outstanding commands while he waited his time on the List. Frederick’s tailor was much aware of his client’s golden future and was happy to let it be known, discreetly, that Sir Frederick Harris, the distinguished naval gentleman, was often to be seen in his premises; he still did not reduce his bill, however.

  A commodore, whether formally appointed or simply senior captain of a particular squadron, took an Admiral’s share of all prize money picked up by the ships he commanded. A captain detached by a thousand miles who made a lucky capture would hand over one of his eighths when the prize court coughed up; there was much to be said for being a commodore.

  That being the case, why had Jervis made him? What political deviltry lay behind this appointment? Was there a sting in the tail? It was vital to discover just what was being hatched in the back-rooms of Whitehall and Westminster.

  The first step was simple; he made his way towards Westminster and sent his name into the House. Mr Russell came to him within minutes, greeting him with pleasure.

  “My dear Sir Frederick! Do not tell me! You have this moment come from your tailor and the glories of lace and bullion-covered epaulettes! I am, no doubt, to stand in awe of your martial splendour!”

  “That I rather doubt, sir, but I have certainly been closeted with my tailor. It occurred to me, while I was standing with my arm crooked and he measured and re-measured my every proportion, to wonder exactly why I had been singled out for this particular distinction.”

  “And so you came to the most reliable single source of information available to you!”

  Frederick bowed in acknowledgement.

  “It is, in fact, a problem easy of solution, Sir Frederick. Our dearly beloved First Lord of the Treasury, the Prime Minister himself, Mr Addington, has discovered his grasp on the reins of power to be uncertain – in the extreme. It is in fact obvious even to his nigh impervious self-conceit that he must resign the office within a year, at most two, probably to make way for Mr Pitt again. This, you may be thinking, is all very well, but what has it to do with my appointment at sea? The answer is, Sir Frederick, that it is normal for an outgoing Prime Minister to be rewarded with an earldom – but only where he has made some claim to distinction, which the great majority in the past have. Poor Mr Addington is distinguished solely by being perhaps the least able ever of all our Prime Ministers. His claim to fame is that he is the most commonplace man in history to reside in Number Ten!”

  “I see! He needs Lord Alton’s votes behind him if he is to achieve the rank of the Earl of, where is it, somewhere in the West Country?”

  “Sidmouth, one is given to understand – a suitably undistinguished town that none have ever heard of. There is, in fact, not the least possibility that he will ever become ‘of’ Sidmouth – the most he will obtain is a barony or possibly viscountcy and hence plain ‘Lord Sidmouth’.”

  “So, he must scrabble for votes and influence, if he is not to end up with a baronetcy or even, God forfend, a mere knighthood. Where, sir, does that leave me when his time in office is over?”

  “You will continue in command of your squadron, Sir Frederick, as the nephew and protégé of the new Prime Minister’s most valuable ally, Lord Alton. Fear not, sir; while you remain undefeated, and unembarrassed, you will stand in no jeopardy in England.”

  “Purely political then and with few of the more subtle ramifications. I must pay a morning call upon my uncle!”

  “It would be well to do so, I believe. To be seen to be in his company would be a wise reminder to the many.”

  The first great concern was allayed – there probably was no subtle plot in the First Lord’s mind.

  “I do not know whether you might be able to enlighten me on the matter of prizes, Mr Russell. My orders state that all that I take must be sent in for adjudication at Antigua, specifying absolutely that none are to go to Jamaica.”

  “Now, that is interesting, Sir Frederick! There has to be a reason, and almost certainly discreditable! Has the Governor of Jamaica caused offence? And to whom? I wonder why I have not already heard? I shall inform you by letter, sir, in the very near future, I trust!”

  They parted, Russell to gossip with his informants, Frederick to attend the First Lord at the Admiralty to receive a personal briefing to flesh out his formal orders.

  “Good morning to you, Sir Frederick! I am pleased to see you in this office, sir. No doubt you wish to know what ships are to make up your squadron.”

  “I desired as well to make my thanks, my lord. This appointment is more than ever I had expected and I am grateful indeed for it.”

  “Good of you to say so, sir! Let us be clear, Sir Frederick – you have this squadron as a result of political pressure – there are a dozen others on the List, senior to you, who might have claimed it, and we could have added a seventy-four and made it the command of a Rear-Admiral of the Blue. That did not happen because I was satis
fied that you are competent to carry out the orders you will be given; had I thought you in any way unfit for the duty I would have refused you, sir!”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “That said, you are short of experience on the diplomatic side of affairs. I do not wish to discover that offence has been caused to the Americans or our old allies, the Portuguese, or even the Danes, who have islands in the Caribbean. Mind you, Sir Frederick, the way we have treated the Danes in the last few years they had as well be seen as overt enemies! As for the Americans – well, a little of offence will always be good for them! But not too much, sir! You are therefore to have a political adviser at your side and you will be well advised to listen very carefully to him. He has returned from Malta on Trident and will be in Portsmouth now. You sailed with Mr Murray last year and he has intimated that he regards you with a deal of respect – which may be because of the prize-money that somehow came into his pocket! He has been given a special commission and is now a post-captain, though not on the List; there are precedents, mostly for gentlemen of a scientific frame. Occasionally for other reasons, though we do not trumpet that fact aloud.”

  Frederick was pleasantly surprised – he liked and trusted Mr Murray.

  “I am happy to welcome him, my lord. He may well be the cleverest man I have ever met and his advice, when I could understand it - after he had put it into simpler words for me - was always sound.”

  “Admiral Fortescue said much the same of him.” Jervis laughed – he had little time for the over-intelligent or for those who pandered to them. He was not himself at all stupid, but there were more important qualities, he was convinced.

  “Ships now, Sir Frederick, are not quite as detailed in your original orders – we have had to modify the squadron, according to the availability of vessels. You are to have Trident, that is unchanged; also a second frigate, Arnheim, of thirty-six guns, and a gunbrig, Speedy, eight guns, and a cutter, Nimble, and an eleven-inch bomb, Wallsend.”

  “Arnheim, my lord? A Dutch capture?”

  “Taken at Camperdown and repaired, then laid up in ordinary and recently put into commission. She is out of the general way of frigates, you might say, Sir Frederick.”

  Jervis smiled very quietly, dragging out the suspense.

  “She has a pair of thirty-two pound chase guns and otherwise is armed with carronades, also of thirty-two pounds. She is, being Dutch, of shallow draught, ideal for working in the islands of the Caribbean Sea. I am told that she is also broader in the beam than might be considered normal in English ships; having a fourth mast, of course, compensates a little in terms of speed.”

  “A Bonaventure sail, my lord. Unusual in modern ships, and few British seamen will have experience of such a thing.”

  “Slightly less uncommon in the merchant marine, Sir Frederick, and I believe a master has been appointed who was brought up in a four masted barquentine trading the North Atlantic. Salt cod out of Newfoundland, I understand.”

  The salt fish trade was very low, the cargo with its appalling smell attracting only the less discriminating among seamen. ‘Brought up’ suggested that the unknown master was born to the trade and had left it when he could – he might not be impossible.

  “She is perhaps better suited for foreign waters than home, my lord. One imagines that it would be as well to keep her out of sight of the more conventional of our seamen. May I beg the name of her fortunate captain, my lord?”

  “Captain Jackman has her, Sir Frederick – no doubt to your pleasure.”

  “Perhaps not to his entirely, my lord, but I am happy to know her to be under the command of so thorough-going a seaman. As well, my lord, I know Captain Jackman to be, if not a fire-eater quite, then a very enterprising young gentleman who will bring her into action if ever he possibly can.”

  “I am glad to hear that, Sir Frederick. He comes with a good report from the Cape; indeed, the prize-money he made there speaks for him. Speedy and Nimble are both six pounders, though I am given to understand that Lieutenant Byng, Speedy’s captain, has laid his hand upon a brass chase gun that might be as much as a twelve. Nimble has but a master’s mate in command, a very young man who may well be made on a foreign station. His name is, let me see, Perlman.”

  The name conveyed nothing to Frederick, other than that it was vaguely Germanic.

  “The bomb, Wallsend, is a converted collier, I presume, my lord.”

  “Hence the eleven-inch mortars, Sir Frederick; purpose-built bombs always have thirteen- inch. She has an enterprising Master and Commander, a Mr Smith, of no family but trained up on the colliers of the German Ocean. He is known to me, and has the ability to be another Captain Cook.”

  The instruction was clear – Smith must be brought on in the service, promoted at an early opportunity unless there was very good reason to end his career. He was not to stagnate in a mere bomb.

  “Byng, of the Speedy, my lord? The name is not unknown in the service?”

  “A very distant set of cousins, Sir Frederick.”

  That was a relief; Mr Byng probably would not have a festering grievance, a name to clear. Frederick turned to other questions.

  “I believe the Press has not yet been made lawful, my lord.”

  “Probably not until next month, Sir Frederick – and by then you will be at sea.”

  He would be short-handed, that was a certainty. There would be a few seaman volunteers for a frigate such as Trident, and some unemployed landsmen who would wish go to sea. The Assizes of the coastal counties would probably send a number of commuted felons aboard and there might be a few Quota men from the inland counties. If he could make two-thirds of his numbers he would be lucky and if one half of those were seamen it would be a miracle.

  “Needs must when the Devil drives, my lord.”

  “I do not believe I heard that, Sir Frederick!”

  Jervis knew that Frederick would make his crew up by any expedient that occurred to him and with small regard for legality; equally, he had no wish to ‘know’ that as a fact.

  “The initial orders are to make ready for the taking of Tobago and of Aruba and the other Dutch islands, my lord. What, if anything, is then envisaged?”

  “Nothing has yet been planned, Sir Frederick, but there is a probability of further activities on the Spanish Main. Tobago was given to us by the Peace, but the Spanish behaved underhandedly, by the way, and may well be kicked in retaliation. The Cape will, of course, be taken again and your squadron might be sent there; alternatively, the Arctic whalers may need a protective patrol if the French attempt them again. There has been a resurgence in the slave trade, I am informed, and you will be alert to the presence of slavers and may be required to take some action on the African shores, depending on the progress of Bills before Parliament. You may not yet take action against slave ships but should take care to gather the names of ships and their officers and owners for future reference; if the law should change in the next three years then I will wish you to take immediate action, sir. I simply do not know what the future may hold for you, Sir Frederick.”

  Frederick had to accept that even First Lords had no crystal ball. He was also aware that the slave trade had a number of powerful British backers who would no doubt do their best to crush him if he was seen to be an active opponent of their profitable business; equally, he had no love for slavery and dead slave-ship captains could level very few complaints or law-suits.

  “Then let us, my lord, concentrate our minds on the immediate business in hand. Thank you for your time, my lord.”

  The squadron was made up of the leavings of the Home Fleet, with the exception of Trident. The Dutch prize Arnheim was of use, practically speaking, only in shallow waters – she had probably been built with the expectation that she would be sent to the Dutch East Indies, suppressing piracy among the coral reefs of the South Seas. She could be of value in the Sugar Islands; it was not a complete nonsense to send her with him, but he would not wish to see her in a single-ship action
with any French or Spanish fifth-rate.

  The gun-brig would be slow, almost of a certainty, but would be able to pack a landing party inside her fat hull; the cutter should be very fast, and lightly framed, unable to stand in any action.

  The bomb should work in consort with Arnheim when possible, the two inshore vessels together.

  Two more days in Town and then he must make his way to Portsmouth to make a first visit to the Port-Admiral. He might have a son or cousin or nephew in need of a berth, and be willing to offer friendship to the man who took him.

  “Have you and Ablett and Sid done all of your shopping, Bosomtwi?”

  The followers of a Commodore would dress more formally than those of a captain and Frederick’s three – servant, coxswain and cook – had sought out a naval outfitter.

  “All done, sir, isn’t it. We got dark blue, sir, trousers and jersey tops for the Atlantic and cotton shirts for the hot places. We bought a bale of cloth for Marc and Jean, sir, so’s they can sew up for theyselves, being too big to find any shirts in store. What about Mr LeGrys, sir?”

  “I don’t know, Bosomtwi. He had not decided when last I spoke to him.”

  “Better he stay with us, sir. Privateering like to kill him, isn’t it.”

  “Captain’s clerk will take him nowhere as a grown man, Bosomtwi. He wishes to make a fortune, so he must stay ashore and become a businessman or go to sea and fight for his shares. He is a hard man, I believe – being crippled has made him so – and must decide on his own future. I cannot tell him what to do.”

  Bosomtwi shook his head – the little boy was a man now, in his own mind, but he would still benefit from the advice of those older and wiser than him.

  They visited bookshops and provision merchants, the written word and spices of equal importance to liven the tedium of a long voyage. The uniforms were delivered and the bill was winced over and they took their post chaises down the Portsmouth road, one of the fastest and best-kept in the country, the Navy using it so much.

 

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