‘Ahead of you, monsieur; the dark green boat with the big man at the front. He is the friend I talked about. He is Georges, a man who frequently is delivering wine and cognac to people in England. He will help us. But you must reward him as I have no means to do so’.
If the civil authorities knew him as a smuggler, the man was not to be trusted. Vizzard was wary and cautious then with Vanessa on his arm, they approached the vessel. It resembled a hog-boat, used by Sussex fisherman from the south coast of Sussex and Kent. Vizzard did not know it but Georges de Castelain, the owner, had purchased it in Shoreham before the Revolution.
An ugly tub of a craft, flat-bottomed and blunt in the bows, only thirty feet overall, Georges loved her. The craft had earned her price many times over in the last ten years. He was not a skilled fisherman, but Georges was a discreet and successful smuggler. He spent so much time in the coastal towns of Kent and Sussex his English became acceptable. The citizens of the port all knew of his activities and it concerned them little, earning for some of them modest incomes. Georges worried the new regime would interfere with his trade.
A hurried, whispered conversation, a nod from Georges and half a dozen gold coins from Jack and the bargain was agreed. With a growl at the curly-haired youth sitting cross-legged in the bows, a hatch was opened and Jack and Vanessa disappeared into the hold. The vessel edged away from the quay and caught the ebb as the offshore evening breeze took the small craft out into the Channel and comparative safety.
The hold stank of stale fish with an odd hint of spirits; Vizzard sniffed and crawled along the decking until a bulkhead halted his movement. Tapping his way around, he found what he was searching for; a concealed compartment in the stern.
‘Deck there’, said Jack, ‘how do we access the…’
‘Lift the ring in the floor - it will open the bulkhead. You know of these craft, monsieur?’ He edged the tiller and the cold easterly breeze filled the foresail pushing the vessel onto a course to the northwest.
‘I have heard of them, yes. There are vessels in these waters I have no wish to meet. However, should you see a King’s ship of any description, you will call me immediately. Understand me?’
A grunt sufficed for the smuggler’s answer and he pulled a clay pipe from the pocket of his woollen jacket, sucking noisily on its emptiness, as the dying sun slipped into the oily and cold, cold sea.
Chapter 11
William Pitt was at his desk in the drawing room, methodically reading his way through a pile of papers, the quill dipping silently into the well to his right, before scratching a note in the margin of each paper in turn. Should a longer note be required, he annotated the lower right corner and completed his commentary or instructions as the case required, on the reverse of the document. He had already written several letters of his own and his wrist was aching.
The firelight cast dancing shadows across the room, adding to the spectral scene. The candle at his side sputtered, the ruby liquid in the glass flashed and his eyes ached. He sighed, a slow exhalation of air through his nostrils as he regarded the pile of paper in front of him, which appeared no lower than when he commenced his labour, he glanced at the clock, three hours since.
The day had been spent inspecting the castle with a clerk making pencilled notes to aid his dictation later. Walmer was a castle, and might be needed as such once more, though its cannons had never fired in anger. As the new Warden, he had decided to change the ancient buildings and make a home of it.
He frowned as he read. The news, it seemed, deteriorated daily. The people Grenville had deployed to garner information had failed to deliver any intelligence of value. A disorganised network of informants throughout France, Prussia and Austria were not earning their corn. And His Majesty’s government was expending a vast sum on corn, he felt. He needed sound intelligence and he needed it quickly. Now he had to grapple with more correspondence with the Prussians and Austrians. The coalition of disparate states was vexed and fragile. And expensive; excessively so.
Turning papers aside he spotted a note from his secretary confirming the officer, in whom he had taken an interest, had been identified. The man who had ensured the safe return of Hamilton Smith. It was cause to celebrate, in which to rejoice. Hamilton Smith was a promising young officer and a resourceful, talented spy. It was as well he was safe in England. And now there was the intriguing lawyer-turned-marine responsible for his agent’s safe return. The note informed him the fishing boat he was aboard to escape from France had been intercepted by the same vessel used to land him in France at the commencement of his mission. Vizzard had returned to Portsmouth. Two days ago. Pitt grunted.
However, the Prime Minister was not a naval man but he knew England had need of its Navy once more. Pitt took a deep swallow of the ruby liquid, realised the bottle was empty and rang the bell for his servant.
‘Sir?’ the tall figure of Williams stood at the door.
‘Another bottle, Williams; if you would be so kind’.
‘Indeed, sir. There are two officers arrived to see you. I have them waiting your pleasure in the gatehouse. They claim to have an appointment, sir?’ Williams had no knowledge of this but was accustomed to late-arranged appointments for friends of the King’s premier minister. It was rare for officers to simply appear, unannounced, at Walmer, hence the servant’s scarce concealed curiosity. ‘They are accompanied by a lady, sir. She appears to be a French-woman, sir.’ His expression remained as unchanged as if he were announcing the arrival of rain.
‘Ah. Good. Excellent. Have them brought right along and have the dining table ready in half an hour, if you will. Well-stocked mind, Williams. I fancy my guests will have need of a bottle or more! Wait; a Frenchwoman you say. How very interesting, William.’ His brain always keen, worked with more speed than usual as the tiredness fell away and his eyes gleamed.
He poured from the bottle Williams had brought in response to his summons, scratched a note on the memorandum he had been reading, and stood in anticipation, quickly donning a dark purple velvet frock coat and straightening his neck-cloth.
The door opened once more a minute or two later and Williams announced, with suitable gravitas, ‘Your guests, sir. Mademoiselle d’Aubusson and Lieutenants Vizzard and La… Lapenotière.’ He inclined his head, as the two men entered, either side of Vanessa.
‘Good evening, sir. My apologies for the intrusion and I am honoured to meet you’, said Lapenotière. May I present Mademoiselle Vanessa d’Aubusson and my particular friend, Lieutenant Vizzard, of the Corps of Marines?’
‘The honour is all mine, er… mademoiselle and gentlemen, I do assure you. England has need of its officers… and its men. Especially, I do believe, its sailors. These are dark days, gentlemen, but I fear there are darker days ahead of us. Do, please, be seated. A glass?’
‘I am so delighted to be your guest, monsieur,’ said Vanessa, inclining her head. ‘I regret my unannounced visit and trust you will forgive the intrusion, sir.’ She appeared to wink.
Jack sat, awkwardly pulling his coat turn-backs aside, a little awed to be in the presence of the King’s premier minister. He sipped at the claret wine, to cover his confusion.
‘Now, gentlemen and, er… mademoiselle. Welcome. This is an unexpected but timeous visit. First order of business, I suggest, must be a toast. To the King… and the destruction of his enemies!’
The officers remained seated, as was their custom for a loyal toast, although Pitt stood. Draining his glass, he stood with his back to the fire and looked hard at his guests.
‘You will I trust be curious as to your presence here.’ It was a statement not a question. ‘I would have wished to avert this present war; the American one was absurd and barbarous, and, I’ll wager, this one with the revolutionaries of France will only be worse. You may depend on it.’ Pitt poured another glass to each and continued. ‘You may explain your presence here, mademoiselle,’ he coughed, ‘for I have no knowledge of your interest.’
Vanessa
candidly described her relationship with Major Squires giving a remarkably full and detailed account of her travels with the major, of the people she had met, places visited and explaining her desire to escape France. She received a cool audience from William Pitt until she described how she had assisted in Lieutenant Vizzard’s return to England, at which Pitt allowed the trace of a smile to animate his mouth.
‘Then I will arrange for a friend to provide you with assistance and suitable accommodation, madam.’ He turned to address the officers. ‘I have consulted with the seniors of your service and orders are even now being carried to your immediate commanders.’ His blue eyes sparkled as his audience showed surprise. ‘My late father, in the last war with our neighbours, often advocated taking the battle to the enemy’s homeland. We have a fleet blockading his ports, but that is all. I wish for more, gentlemen. It is my opinion actions such as your recent expedition demonstrate to me we have the capability to be more… offensive in our dealings with the Revolutionaries.
Both men understood the Prime Minister’s meaning. He meant to distract the enemy while planning alliances and building the nation’s forces.
Jack glanced at his friend, who returned the look and smiled.
‘You take my meaning. You will stay the night? There are rooms for you all in the Gunners’ Lodging.’ It was a directive, not a question. ‘Good. Now, gentlemen, we should dine. I trust you have an appetite, as our kitchens here are as fine as any in London!’
They walked through the door to the adjacent anteroom before passing into the dining room. A large, mahogany dining table was laid for four but could comfortably seat a dozen. Pitt rarely entertained on such scale. He disliked large social functions, preferring the greater intimacy of good friends and supporters. He gestured to the cane-seat chairs and bid his guests to be seated, as he took a dominating position at the head of the table.
‘Gentlemen,’ he opened when the glasses had been filled, ‘we face difficult times ahead. Britain has pushed to its utmost our system of temperance and moderation, but we are now slighted and abused by our old enemy. Such is the conduct which they have pursued; such is the situation in which we stand. It now remains to be seen whether, under Providence, the efforts of a free, brave, loyal and happy people, aided by our allies, will not be successful in checking the progress of a system, the principles of which, if not opposed, threaten the most fatal consequences to the tranquillity of this country, the security of our allies, the good order of every European government, and the happiness of the whole of the human race.’
‘The Navy stands ready, sir’, said Lapenotière, taken aback by the man’s eloquence and passion. ‘You have, through your industry, made it so.’
‘And I have little doubt, undermanned as the Corps is, the Marines will acquit themselves with equal merit, sir’, Jack added.
‘I have every confidence in your Corps, Vizzard. That is not my chief concern at this time. My government faces difficult tasks; our very prosperity is threatened; merchants all beat a path to my door, banks are inhibited from advancing credit and Grenville has much to do to achieve an alliance with our continental friends. Our army is in no fit condition to take to the field, alas, and must be grown swiftly if we are to mount any expeditions to contain the Convention’s expansionist policies.’
‘If I may enquire then, sir, what do you propose to remedy the present situation?’ Jack asked.
‘The Admiralty will become increasingly active, gentlemen. I have alluded to the fact orders are in course to implement some of my ideas. You are both now acquainted with the French coast, are you not?
Lapenotière nodded. ‘Indeed, I am, sir. M’friend Mister Vizzard has only a passing knowledge however.’ He smiled at his friend.
‘Then his new orders will remedy the situation’, Pitt replied quickly. ‘I wish to have regular and frequent knowledge of what the French are about. To such purpose, Lieutenant, you – and others of your service – will keep me and my office informed of changes in the northern ports; I wish to know all activity which happens along the cursed, Gallic coastline. I wish to know of troop movements, shipbuilding, constructions or additions to their harbours. In short, gentlemen, I am asking you to become my agents across the Channel and provide me with all intelligence possible concerning our enemy.’
The officers’ reaction was interrupted by the arrival of dinner, delivered by a pair of immaculately attired servants. Further conversation was paused until the food was distributed and the servants withdrew.
‘You wish us to become spies, sir?’ Jack could hold back no longer. ‘To put ashore in France and spy for you?’
‘Yes, as agent for me, Lieutenant… and for the benefit of Britain. Is my request unreasonable?’ Pitt asked. ‘If my Lords Commissioners are to conduct an effective war, they will have need of reliable, frequent and informed intelligence, will they not?’
Jack Vizzard listened as the Prime Minister expanded his ideas; to gather information, to cause disruption and divert the enemy’s resources, while at the same time building for the campaigns which would surely follow as the war developed, little knowing the unfolding conflict would continue far longer than he ever contemplated.
His mind turned over the prospect; now he would have all the opportunity for glory and promotion he could want. The question he now had to consider was, could he meet the challenge and survive?
‘If I… we are to do this, sir, will I have a degree of autonomy with respect to my preferred methods? What I mean to say is, will I be bound by divisional orders as to uniform? I have every pride in my uniform, sir, but hold the view for operations on French soil, an absence of conspicuity might be preferred.’
‘Lieutenant, I am a politician. I cannot, rather I should not, interfere in military matters but one must be active in this. However, one of the reasons I had desired to meet you was to seek confirmation of your suitability for the type of work I have in mind. By your questions, I am satisfied you are precisely the type of officer the service requires! Your services, in whatever guise you choose to discharge them, will have my support – conditional only on the results you achieve. I trust we have an understanding.’
‘Indeed we do, sir’.
‘Lieutenant Lapenotière, you will have an understanding of your part in these operations, I trust?’ Not waiting for an answer, Pitt continued, ‘You are to provide Lieutenant Vizzard with the means of observing the various ports and facilities and, in the manner which seems appropriate in your judgement, to render all practical assistance in reporting his findings to me. I wish you to support him in any land operations which seem to assist our efforts to confuse and injure and divert the enemy. You will both be on detachment from your current posts with orders to report directly to myself and my specific ministers; principally my Lord Wyndham and naturally, Dundas.’
‘I daresay it will prove more diverting than playing escort to convoys, sir. It is tiresome work, if I may venture.’ Lapenotière said.
‘Good. Then I am encouraged. It is my desire we cause the enemy serious harm. Their resources must be stretched, their ships destroyed, stores and supplies burned, crops razed. I need time, gentlemen, time to build our army. Time you must find for me. Now, your glasses are in need of replenishment.’
‘Mister Pitt, I have listened carefully to all you `ave said,’ Vanessa d’Aubusson spoke for the first time, ‘and it grieves me to hear these things of my country. But sir, if I can assist you and your king in removing the vile people who have over-run my country and executed my dear King Louis, then I gladly offer myself to your service.’ She smiled, stirring thoughts amongst the gentlemen at the table.
The servant crossed the room in silence and with accustomed speed, and with a deft turn of the wrist filled the Prime Minister’s glass first, before moving to the guests.
‘The Revolutionaries are even now equipping and mustering armies which will become powerful. What they lack are leaders, but I do suspect some bold men will emerge from their ranks and
cause us great harm. Mark me well, gentlemen; we must do the same if our beloved country is to survive the coming conflict.’
‘Now, I suggest you take to your homes in the morning and say farewell to your loved ones, gentlemen, as you will like as not have little time to do so in the months ahead. Your orders will be delivered to the Admiral at Portsmouth in the morning.’
* * * * *
‘The Prime Minister was quite clear, Mary. I am to be independently employed as one of his agents. Not simply a spy; the Corps would not wholly approve of such work for one of its officers, but as a combatant. We are at war with France.’
Jack and Mary Vizzard were sitting in Henry’s study three days’ later, taking tea as the wintry sun slowly faded and dipped behind the escarpment, the fire in the grate in need of refuelling.
Jack Vizzard rose, collected a pair of large logs from the basket and, with care, dropped them onto the fire, watching as the sparks spat and crackled, as though mocking him. He stood with his back to the flames, staring into the garden, thinking of what may be asked of him in the months to come.
‘I understand, beloved, but this is too dangerous; it is simply too much. You will be caught and executed by those evil people.’ Her initial tears had dried but the feeling of dread remained tight in her chest. ‘I worry so, my dear man. You know I do. However, there is another reason I am fearful. I… um, you should know I am with child! There, it is said. I had wished to keep this from you for a while, but my heart is bursting today.’
Jack crossed to her and, kneeling at her feet, clasped her hands to him.
‘My dearest love. What wonderful, completely wonderful news. Fear not, beloved, I shall not perish at the hands of our enemies. I have even more purpose to life now to permit that to happen.’ He kissed her hands, then sat on the arm of the chair and held her tightly.
THE GLORIOUS FIRST: The first fleet action of the French Revolutionary War (The Jack Vizzard Chronicles Book 2) Page 13
