As always, Frederick was at liberty to decline the command – with the knowledge that if he did so he would never go to sea again, or not in the memory of this First Lord and his friends.
“I am, as ever, my Lord, wholly yours to command.”
“Elegantly said, Sir Frederick!”
“Thank you, my Lord. My wife has been training me in the courtesies of life.”
“Lord Partington’s daughter, I believe, Sir Frederick.”
Frederick admitted she was – it never hurt to mention another vote in the House of Lords. Jervis was well aware of the Alton connection and of the politician Critchel in the background; now he could add another source of influence, however much a backwoodsman the peer was.
“Excellent, Sir Frederick. Before we move on and just to clarify matters: the Santiago launched a piratical attack upon your squadron, opening fire on you in time of peace. Acting to defend your ships, you set about her, a pair of frigates – small need to use the word ‘heavy’ - in action with a Second-Rate. Due greatly to your tactics and the bloody-handed zeal of the young hero, Captain Jackman, you forced her surrender in an action notable for its massive casualties – again, there is little need to specify that the casualties were almost wholly those caused to the Spaniard. I shall ensure that the word of this untoward passage of arms comes to the ears of the Prince of Wales, in exactly this form…”
Frederick did not need to be told to keep strictly to this only slightly amended version of the truth.
“Now, Sir Frederick, you are to have another squadron, with pay and perquisites as if you were commanding a Third-Rate. You must tell your man to dig out the proper uniform immediately, sir, though you were very right not to wear it just now. Is it still the African man, Bosomtwi, who has a name in his own right, I remember?”
“It is, my Lord. There is much to be said for a servant who is a warrior born.”
“There is indeed, Sir Frederick!”
Frederick waited for the blow to fall – the First Lord was not by nature a sweet-tempered gentleman and he as a rule saw little point in wasting excessive politeness on his juniors. The efforts he was making to show courtesy and a friendly interest in Frederick’s affairs suggested that he had another bodyblow to offer.
“You are to fly your flag on Acheron frigate, Sir Frederick. She is of thirty-two guns, twelve pounders, and may fairly be described as old in the service. She was built, I believe, a year or so before Victory.”
“Nearly one half of a century ago, my Lord. She is certainly not the most modern of vessels!”
“That is true, but she is still fully capable of service in Home Waters.”
That carried the implication that she was not fit for any long voyage, that she should not venture more than a very few days away from the dockyard. Acheron was, in blunt terms, expendable, on what was probably her last commission in the service.
“She has carronades and chasers, one presumes, my Lord?”
“A pair of nine-pound brass long guns and six of twenty-four pound carronades. She has been fitted with a pair of davits on the stern quarters and is particularly suited for small-boat work. She has an extra pair of pulling boats, Sir Frederick. She is also well up for men, and has extra Marines put aboard her specifically for this duty.”
The extra hands – mouths more precisely – were not to be a problem.
“Water will be of no concern in the Channel, of course – we may expect to be out for very few days at a time. She is not to be attached to the blockading squadrons, so one need not be too concerned about victuals, my Lord. What other craft are there to make up the squadron?”
“They are in fact in process of being assembled, Sir Frederick. Sloops, or one at least; a number of gun-brigs and certainly one very fast cutter for the purpose of scouting. Other small craft may be put together, as the need arises. There is to be one at least of designated fireships. The aim is to put together a flotilla of speedy, shallow-draft vessels, able to enter any of the harbours of the French coast, or to assault a fishing village, for example, so as to place a party ashore.”
Setting parties ashore on a coast that contained an invasion army seemed rather a rash venture to Frederick. The First Lord evidently read the expression on his face.
“Raids, of course, Sir Frederick, perhaps to burn down a warehouse containing rations, or to destroy a boatyard at a strategic location. There is to be no question of remaining ashore more than a very few hours.”
“None indeed, my Lord!”
End of Excerpt
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Sugar and Spice (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 6) Page 20
