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

by Andrew Wareham

  "True indeed, Mr McPherson, and the squadron is still sharing equally on all prizes taken!"

  The Marines trooped ashore and immediately boarded Arnheim, no doubt to their pleasure. Jackman reported that he had returned some twenty men to sea duty and took a draft of hands from Trident to make up his numbers.

  They briefly discussed the cruise and agreed that Arnheim should take some pains to dress herself as a tired old tramper in the commercial line, working her way from port to port, her next destination determined by the cargo she could pick up in her current harbour.

  "Strike down topgallants, sir, and wear as many fore and aft sails as can conveniently be arranged. Merchantmen use square sails less than we do, needing too many skilled topmen for them to pay for. A judicious display of grime as well, to persuade the doubting that we are not navy. Painted canvas along the hull, sir, loosely covering the gunports. My boatswain can rig them so that they can be brailed up in seconds, clear of muzzle flash."

  "Your new man is Irish, is he not?"

  "More or less, sir - his parents left in one of their famines - starving seems to be a habit of theirs every five years or so; it might be to do with their religion, you know, fasting and all that. That is by the bye, sir - he is a man of Liverpool by rearing - and would seem to have joined as a volunteer, of all things, before the last war. As far as I can tell his father was much incensed by the killing of priests in France, though it might have been a Father, I could not quite pick up that part of the tale. In any case he chose to join the navy to pay the Frogs out."

  Frederick was surprised, he could not ever remember coming across a volunteer who was not fleeing a paternity.

  "He is a very fine seaman, sir, that is the important thing. I was lucky to have him sent to me."

  "Good! That is, as you say, all that matters. Now, Mr Jackman, I would wish to beg a favour of you. You will remember Goldfarb?"

  "Of course, sir, the leader of the Cape Town soldiers; a quarter-gunner, I believe, or has he made Gunners Mate yet?"

  "Quarter-gunner still, to step up on the next vacancy. You may recall that he was on terms of friendship, close friendship, with Jewson, another of the soldiers become a very useful sailor?"

  Jackman did, somewhat disapprovingly.

  "Jewson caught the fever and was dead when we made port yesterday. Poor Goldfarb is badly taken by the loss. I think it would be better for him to be kept busy rather than to sit on harbour watch, keening his grief."

  "I will take him, sir, and can keep him more than busy, having lost no fewer than eight of my best men and two of them captains from the gun crews. There is a deal of training to do, and I would wish for a good man to gee-up my Gunner's Mate - he can be a lazy gentleman and is close to losing his warrant; should he become aware of a replacement immediately to hand he may well wake up. And, of course, should he be obdurate in his ways, then he can very soon be demoted to heads cleaner, second class!"

  "Thank you. I have a deal of affection for Goldfarb - not in that way, I assure you! He is a fine man and loyal - you know of his doings on Djerba, I believe?"

  Jackman did, in detail, and shuddered in remembered horror.

  Frederick returned to his house onshore, much refreshed by his weeks at sea. He had reported to Admiral Makin and found him shaky and grey-faced at his desk.

  "I succumbed as you sailed, Sir Frederick - no more than a light touch, the surgeon assures me, but I am only three days out of my bed. I have sent your prize to the court here - no doubt in my mind of her status. No word from England yet regarding the Spanish invasion of Jamaica, but it is too early, I expect. In fact, I know it is far too soon, but we could lose the whole of the Sugar Islands to a determined onslaught - we do not have the ships here!"

  “Have we batteries surrounding the harbour, sir?”

  “Old guns only, Sir Frederick. Six of eighteen pounds at the harbour mouth and two of twenty-four set back at the end of the quay, placed to turn against any force landing inland and marching on the town. They are worn and ancient, hardly to be relied upon, but all we have now. There was always used to be an old sixty-four moored as guardship, but she was sent home to the breakers during the Peace. I have begged for a battery, but as yet in vain.”

  A merchantman made port just a week later with the Admiralty’s answer to the original request, but Frederick was tied up in personal affairs and barely noticed.

  Frederick, as was only natural, was placed in the greatest bedroom of their hired house, occupied for the previous month by Captain Jackman. All of the captain’s clothing and possessions had, in the ordinary way of things, been removed to Arnheim before she sailed, but Frederick could not help noticing that a few items of a personal nature remained in the room. Some of them struck him as being in the feminine line – hair brushes and mirrors and suchlike, for he could not recall Jackman as too deeply concerned with his own good looks. The conclusion to be drawn was obvious and Frederick was inclined to approve – Jackman was single, and although he had met and talked with Elizabeth’s sister and had clearly liked her, he had offered no attempt to court her, as such, and was free in honour of any entanglement. In any case, a sailor was single once past Gibraltar, an old saying and one that was generally accepted by all except the Courts of Law.

  They ate a celebration dinner on their first night back, in part to drink to their rich prize but more to welcome the resurrection, as they saw it, of Lieutenant Denton and Midshipman Kelly who had both chosen, at the very last minute, not to die of the fever. Doctor Morris was present and hardly ceased to express his amaze – he had had no expectation of seeing more than a pair of rough carved crosses in their cemetery he said, more than once.

  They ate well and drank with less than normal wisdom and retired to their various beds full of good-feeling to their fellow men. Frederick woke for the natural reason in the middle of the night and staggered in the pitch darkness to the lighter square of the open window before making his way, still a long way less than sober, back to his warm bed. As he rolled over he fell into the embrace of a welcoming pair of arms and was tucked against a very well-proportioned female body; six months away from home and his reaction was spontaneous and unthinking, not that he was in great condition for thought in any case.

  He woke in the morning with a general feeling of well-being that was much in contrast to the headache of his hangover. He quickly discovered that he was not alone in his bed, his first guilt disappearing under the enthusiastic ministrations of his partner, who left him with no capacity for moral anguish.

  He stirred from his bed later than was his wont, wandering into his dressing room and a warm hip bath prepared by Bosomtwi who, unusually, had made no attempt to wake him that morning. Neither man made any comment, then or later.

  Captain Murray joined him in a late breakfast, somewhat more dishevelled than was normal, commenting that he had been most surprised by the levels of hospitality enjoyed in Antigua. Was it usual, did Sir Frederick think, for the Sugar Islands?

  “I believe it may be, Captain Murray. One is given to understand that the practice is to offer the young lady a fairly generous present and ask her if she intends to return on future nights.”

  “An excellent suggestion, Sir Frederick!”

  Frederick allowed himself a couple of days of furlough, sending a message to McPherson that he should maintain harbour routine. He took pains the while to discover the name of the so generous young lady and invite her to remain in his company – the sin having once been committed there was little sense in withdrawing from her proximity he felt. Ten guineas in gold outfitted Cissie in finery beyond her wildest dreams while another fifty bought a piece of good land up the hill sufficient for a whole family to live on in comfort. Her aunt in the kitchen was more than satisfied with her initiative.

  Towards the end of the week Frederick presented himself in front of the admiral, it being time to discover what was happening in the wider world.

  “Twelve forty-two pound coastal guns, S
ir Frederick. Four are already emplaced in earthworks quickly dug for them overlooking the harbour entrance, either side to give a crossfire. Stone batteries will take another year, but will be built. The Admiralty sent gold as well, believe it or not! Four are to be set in a battery a distance up the hillside, not so far from the windmill, and the remainder will be placed directly opposite the harbour mouth on the quay itself; any ship forcing an entrance will put herself bows on to them at one half of a mile range!”

  “Powder and ball, sir?”

  “Supplied, and artillerymen; gun captain and one other for each piece, sufficient to train up their crews in short order! A month from now, before the end of the hurricane season, and the harbour will be very nearly impregnable!”

  “Antigua and Jamaica are probably the most important possessions of the Crown in the Sugar Islands, and thus in the whole world, sir. It is pleasant indeed to discover that the politicians in London are aware of the fact.”

  “What is interesting, Sir Frederick, is that they must have taken this action before my runner reached them with a demand for assistance.”

  “The word might well have reached London from Madrid soon after the Spanish plans were laid, sir. Captain Murray informs me that the ‘Department’, as he calls it, has informants over much of Europe. Some of them are paid traitors; others politically motivated opponents of a particular government; a number actual British men sent to nose out information.”

  “Spies, in fact!”

  “Yes, sir. Useful and brave men, and women sometimes, working at great risk for their country. Not quite my cup of tea, perhaps, sir, but one must respect their courage at least.”

  Admiral Makin was not convinced – he was a gentleman.

  A week later and Frederick’s hedonistic existence was disturbed by a Marine messenger from the Admiral. He patted Cissie’s naked and very well-rounded backside and sent her out of sight, admiring, once again, her quite remarkable shape, and turning his mind, with some reluctance, indeed difficulty, to duty.

  “Send him in, Bosomtwi.”

  A sealed note was placed in front of him and the Marine stood to attention while he verified its pristine condition and then signed the attached receipt form and handed it across.

  The Admiral begged Sir Frederick’s attendance at the quayside where a sight of some interest awaited him.

  “Hat and coat, Bosomtwi!”

  He had no choice other than go immediately to the harbour, but it would have to be a remarkable sight to interest him more than the one he had just feasted his eyes upon.

  He walked the furlong with Ablett and Bosomtwi in attendance, as retinue to state his importance but also to protect him from the pickpockets and casual blaggers of the dock alleys. He blinked as he came out of the shadows of the smelly warehouses, copra to his left and rawhides on the right his nose told him. The flies also gave an indication.

  There were five small island boats tied up, the biggest a schooner of ninety or a hundred tons, lording it over two smaller fast sloops and a pair of round-bellied ketches. There were white-skinned sailors on each and a pair of midshipmen standing on the quay in front of the admiral. A great mass of prisoners was being marched off under Marine escort. The boats were prizes. He vaguely recognised one of the midshipmen as being from Arnheim.

  “Your Captain Jackman has done the job, as you said he would, Sir Frederick. The boy here is just telling me the tale.”

  Arnheim had made her way slowly south in her merchantman guise, deliberately well inshore at Martinique as if she had been caught by an unfavourable wind and was slowly clawing off. She was in sight of any interested privateers, and was of a size to be very attractive. They had seen a small sail disappearing into the darkness ahead of them and had picked up two more against the moon later in the night.

  Captain Jackman ordered all hands well before dawn and cleared all except the strips of canvas hiding the gunports. As the sun rose so the men shifted out of sight, below decks or behind the gun carriages, leaving just a steersman and a single officer visible on the poop and one lonely lookout climbing into the maintop. All guns were loaded, including the despised twelve-pound pivot desecrating the quarterdeck.

  Whispers were passed along the deck from the chasers’ crews of two ketches off the starboard bow, reaching up from the south, cram-packed with men. The much faster schooner and sloops appeared from inshore, all sail set and swooping down towards the stern, two miles off and making at least twelve knots.

  Jackman, dressed in his oldest, most comfortable civilian clothes, made a show of noticing nothing untoward.

  “Ten minutes!”

  His call was low-pitched but sufficient to set off another chain of whispers among the men below who could see nothing.

  “Gun crews ready! Mr Donnelly, the ports to be cleared two minutes from now, on my word. Chasers, make ready. Pivot to target the larger schooner then a round each for the smaller pair of sloops. Wait!”

  A cable distant; close enough.

  “Mr Donnelly! All guns, shoot!”

  None of the broadside pieces had a target. The pivot placed a charge of grape very neatly into the boarding party in the big schooner’s bows and reloaded and turned to the nearer of the smaller pair, much to its dismay. The three spent no time weighing up the odds; they offered instant surrender. The chasers fired once apiece, each sending a huge ball close enough to the ketches to half drown them with the splashes. The action ended in seconds, all silent again apart from the wailing of the dozen or more wounded on the schooner.

  The five small privateers together were almost worthless as prizes – empty hulls and of little commercial use other than for pottering from plantation wharf to harbour warehouse. The prisoners represented head-money however and that was something to add to the prize fund. Importantly, they were evidence that the squadron was active in protecting the planters’ commercial interests, and they had considerable influence in Whitehall.

  Admiral Makin was pleased with the squadron and promised to buy-in the large schooner; it would make a useful despatch carrier and another pair of eyes. It would provide employment for one of his young lieutenants as well and could be justified in his reports to the Admiralty.

  “Captain Vereker tells me that Raven is fit to sail, Sir Frederick. He could take your prize crews aboard and return them to Arnheim, then acting as her consort.”

  Frederick approved – the addition of a sloop would greatly assist Jackman in his cruise.

  The typhoid was officially ended – there had been no new infections recorded for a week. In the nature of such plagues, it had appeared from nowhere, had taken its toll and had then returned to dormancy. It was all wholly unpredictable and nothing could be done to prevent it – it was a vagary of nature, the way the world was made.

  A few of the more religious offered the opinion that it was God’s punishment for sinners; the general run of folk were unimpressed, noticing that any number of very dubious people had remained quite untouched while a few figures of saintly inclination had died unpleasantly.

  Bosomtwi listened to the comments and added his own opinion.

  “They’s a damn sight more of sinners than saints, isn’t it, sir. Don’t seem to add up to me, isn’t it!”

  Frederick agreed. He asked Doctor Morris his opinion.

  “Boiled water, sir.”

  Frederick found this a little cryptic.

  “Sorry, sir. Where the water of the household, or other establishment, is boiled and then kept in covered buckets, then there will be less of these sicknesses. For drinking; for preparing foodstuffs; even for washing the person – boiling the water prevents the disease taking hold.”

  “How?”

  The prescription smacked of quackery to Frederick. How should the boiling of a bucket of water prevent red spots erupting on the body?

  “I do not know, sir. I can only assume that the active principle of the ailment, whatever it may be, cannot tolerate excessive heat. After all, sir, the disease is
first to be discovered on the skin, and we all know what happens if we expose our flesh to boiling hot water.”

  That was more reasonable – if the plague affected the skin then logically it must partake of the nature of human flesh and share the same vulnerabilities.

  “Thus the use of boiling water for everyday functions is to be recommended… Difficult to attain, but worth bearing in mind, Doctor Morris.”

  Frederick made a note that he must discover just how hot he could tolerate his washing water.

  “While I am here, sir, I should perhaps point out to you that the medicine chest is now to all intents and purposes empty. I require, as a matter of urgency, and certainly before we sail next, stocks of almost every drug and medicine, with the unusual exception of the venereals, sir.”

  “The sick men have had other things on their minds, it would seem. No doubt as they convalesce they will return to more normal habits, Doctor Morris. I must speak to Admiral Makin, point out to him that you would expect to replenish from the hospital’s supplies, which themselves are run down almost to nothing. He has, I know, received funds from the Admiralty in recent weeks.”

  The Admiral was in rare possession of real money rather than paper; he rather wanted to retain some of it.

  “I would be happy to assist, Sir Frederick, but there are only two apothecaries in English Harbour, and I cannot imagine that either will have any great remaining stock of medicines. Peruvian Bark, for example, must be rarer than gold dust at the moment, and as for Doctor James’ and Doctor Baillie’s Powders, I doubt a single jar is to be discovered. Beg the good doctor to search most vigorously for his needs and inform him that I shall be happy to assist him if he finds anything of avail. I shall send the most urgent demands to the Admiralty and to the Sick and Hurt Board, of that you may have no doubt.”

  Doctor Morris was forced to accept the Admiral’s logic – every medicine of any possible value must have been used up in so vigorous an outbreak.