A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1)

by Roger Burnage

  It was usual for ships’ masters to pass information between them at all possible opportunities, such as details of newly discovered rocks and reefs, currents, wrecks, winds at various times of the year and anything which was of value to safe navigation. When in foreign parts the master was expected, when time allowed, to use a ship’s boat to take soundings and check the readings against the issue charts, sending any revised information back to the Admiralty so that official charts could be amended. In this way a master would build up a large collection of notes even of areas he might not visit for years.

  “Very well Mr. Cuthbert, I too sailed those waters as a boy but I shall be relying on you to keep the ship out of trouble. As you now know, we are bound for the Irish sea but under most unusual circumstances which will certainly require us to go close inshore and even to land our people in the dark. More I cannot tell you at the moment.”

  “Aye-aye Sir, I’ll start reading my notes right away.”

  Soon after the Master left, there was a knock and a pale faced, rather shaky Mr. Grahame put his head round the door. “I think it time we discussed our plans Mr. Merriman.”

  “Come in Sir, come in and sit yourself down. I am pleased to see you about again. May I offer you some refreshment?” Merriman’s servant Peters was hovering round and hastily pushed a chair forward

  “Thank you, a little coffee if you would be so kind, and maybe a morsel of dry biscuit. I don’t think I could manage anything more at present. I must apologize for my condition over these last few days, but I was never a good sailor.”

  “Think no more about it Mr. Grahame, now that you are taking nourishment again I warrant you will be your usual self within twenty-four hours.”

  Whilst they waited for their coffee, Grahame remarked on how well Merriman’s servant had looked after him whilst he was ill. “He’s been a servant before I should think.”

  “I don’t know about that” replied Merriman. “He was recommended for the job by the First Lieutenant. He’s a bit clumsy and I think I’m lucky not to have had my face cut to pieces when he shaves me, his hand trembles so, but I think he’ll improve given time. Unfortunately I’ve not had time to get to know my people as well as I would like. Ah, thank you Peters, that will be all.”

  As they sipped the steaming coffee, Merriman decided that it was time to tell Grahame his own information about the activities of the smugglers. Therefore he recounted the details of the meeting with his father and other magistrates and the Revenue man from Chester, which revealed nothing more than Admiral Edwards had covered at the Admiralty. Mr Grahame merely nodded and nibbled on a fragment of biscuit, but when Merriman told him that he had a man involved with the smugglers who had already passed on some valuable information he sat up and looked more cheerful.

  “Is that the big man who travelled on the coach with you? I saw him at the inn at Oxford.”

  “Yes, it seems that his brother was one of the crew of the cutter and was killed. He desperately wants to help to avenge his brother’s death.” Merriman went on to relay to Grahame all that Owen had told him.

  “And your man’s brother spoke of the French and Irish before he died did he? This could help us tremendously” he said, “One cannot have too much intelligence of the enemy’s actions and resources. When do you expect to hear from him again?”

  “When I left home I had no idea that I would be coming back to the Irish sea so soon and so he was instructed to go to my father when he has anything of substance to report, and to do everything he could to help the authorities. I will have to go home to find out if there is any news.”

  “That settles our first move then. We must get ashore and go to your home. I must go with you and hear what your man has to say, if he is there. Then I think you should go to see Mr. Flitwick the Customs Officer in Chester and learn what you can from him, whilst I make a call on someone else who should have more news for me.”

  “Do you know Mr. Flitwick Sir, is he to be trusted?”

  “I’ve known Jonas Flitwick for many years, in fact he was my superior at the Treasury before he married and settled down.. I would trust him with my life, indeed I have done so on many occasions.”

  “Going ashore we must be circumspect, and try to avoid making our presence known in the area before we have to. D’you think that the best way might be to stop a small trading ship out at sea which is heading into Parkgate, so that we arrive like a couple of passengers. By the way, have you any clothes with you other than your uniform?”

  “Sadly, no, but maybe one of the other officers has a coat I could borrow and I could change my breeches and stockings for a pair of trousers. It shouldn’t be difficult to stop another ship, but once the crew get ashore, word of two men transferring from a King’s ship will spread rapidly. I believe it would be better to close the shore in the dark and be landed by small boat not too far from the villages of Hoose or Little Meols on the tip of the Wirral peninsula. From there we should be able to hire horses or a carriage.”

  “An excellent idea Mr Merriman, I can see that we shall work well together. I believe that is as far as we can plan at present. Have you confided anything of this affair to your officers?”

  “Only the Master, as I felt it important to know if he had knowledge of the waters of the Irish Sea, so he knows where we are bound and that we are on an unusual mission. I am to entertain some of them to dinner later today so that will be a good opportunity for you to meet them. But I must inform them of what is afoot, especially if I am to leave the ship in the hands of my First Lieutenant.”

  “Quite so, but make no mention of my connection with the Treasury.”

  And so it was that Lieutenants Colin Laing and David Andrews kept the deck and Merriman entertained the other officers to a fine meal of roast chicken, salt pork and ship’s biscuit, washed down by an excellent claret provided by Edward St James the marine Lieutenant. John Jeavons, the first Lieutenant was a serious, fair haired young man who thought carefully before speaking, whereas the marine officer was a lively conversationalist with an affectedly languid manner. The Surgeon, Alan McBride was slow to join in the chatter at first but after two or three hastily drained glasses, became quite voluble. Mr. Cuthbert spoke only when directly addressed and the little midshipman Alfred Shrigley was so overawed and embarrassed in the presence of his superiors that he could only stammer wretchedly when brought into the conversation although Merriman noticed that the midshipman was not holding his appetite in check and was eating everything in front of him even though the others had finished. Mr. Grahame was also an excellent raconteur and the time passed swiftly and pleasantly.

  “Mr. Shrigley, when you have quite finished gnawing on that bone, it is your place to propose a toast I believe.”

  “Oh Lor’, s-s-sorry Sir, I mean y-y-yes Sir.” The red-faced youngster groped for his glass, knocked it over, managed to grab it before all the contents were lost and squeaked “The King.”

  As the time had not yet come when a sailor king would allow his health to be drunk sitting down, the officers stood stooped awkwardly under the low deck-head. After the toast was drunk, Merriman motioned to his servant Peters to clear the table. When that was done and the door closed again, Merriman turned to the serious part of the evening.

  “Gentlemen, as you have been kept in the dark so far as regards our purpose on this commission, I imagine the ship is alive with rumours about our destination.”

  “There are so many different ideas Sir, that the gunner is running a sweepstake on it,” laughed the surgeon reaching for the claret again.

  “Well then, there may be a winner tonight. I can tell you that we are staying in home waters, the Irish Sea to be precise, so you can all forget thoughts of warm, sunny weather and tropic seas. There is increasing trouble in that area with smuggling gangs, indeed some of you may be aware that a gang went so far as to attack a Revenue cutter a few weeks ago. They murdered all the crew except for a boy who made a lucky escape, and made off with the ship which
has not been seen since.”

  He paused, looking round the table, then continued “Because of this outrage, the Admiralty has decided that a ship of force is to be stationed there. It is to be part of our duty to patrol round the coasts of the Kingdom bordering the Irish Sea to see if we can encounter these ruffians and put them in the hands of the hangman.”

  There was a murmur of interest and speculation round the table. Merriman’s voice rose above it, “I know that you have all been wondering who our mysterious guest Mr. Grahame is and why he is here. Mr. Grahame represents a higher authority than myself and although I am in command of the ship and all activities at sea, we are to be used as he sees fit.”

  He turned to Grahame, “Perhaps you would like to say a few words Sir?”

  “Thank you. I have little to add at this point except to say that there will be secret landings and meetings ashore by both your Captain and myself. These will be for the purpose of gathering, from certain persons in my employ, information which will be of use to us. More obviously, we are empowered to stop and search any vessels which arouse our suspicions. We shall be looking for French agents attempting to cross from Ireland to England so that one way or another there will be ample opportunity for your boats’ crews to practice their skills.”

  He paused for a moment before continuing, “Remember gentlemen, that whilst we are not actively at war with France yet, I know that we most likely will be in the near future. Therefore we are engaged in a quiet war, some may say a bizarre war, but all for the benefit of our country.

  “I can see several of you have questions,” said Merriman, “Mr. St James, would you care to begin?”

  “Thank you Sir. I know we all have been wondering why my marines are aboard, which is unusual on so small a ship. It’s made for very crowded accommodation and in the activities you and Mr. Grahame have described there would seem to be little need for us. I hope I can at least post your cabin sentry Sir, It will give the men something to do.”

  “I don’t know myself exactly why you are aboard Mr. St James, but I think that the Admiralty must have had a good reason for your presence here. No doubt those reasons will become apparent in time. Concerning the posting of a sentry, if there were no marines aboard as would be usual on so small a ship, there would be no sentry. Besides, the poor man couldn’t stand upright, the deck-head is too low. Next question?”

  “How often will you be going ashore Sir, and for how long?” asked Jeavons.

  Merriman studied him carefully. Was this an indication that his First Lieutenant did not feel confident in his ability to cope when left alone in command. So far he had proved to be a capable officer but Merriman had no idea how he would act under real stress when he had nobody senior to turn to.

  “The first time is likely to be two or three days only. How often after that I cannot say.”

  “Sir, Sir,” squeaked the diminutive Midshipman Shrigley, emboldened by two glasses of good claret, “Will I have a chance of going ashore Sir? It all sounds very exciting and I’d do my best to help.”

  The others smothered smiles of amusement as Merriman replied with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m impressed by your enthusiasm Mr. Shrigley and I am sure that you would do your best as you say, but as yet I cannot see a part for you to play ashore. You must wait a while for your opportunity.”

  “Mr. Cuthbert, Mr. McBride, have you no questions?”

  “No Sir”, said the Master, “After our earlier conversation I checked my notes again and can foresee no problems.”

  “The surgeon tried to conceal a belch. “My knives are sharp Sir but it seems unlikely they will be required on this voyage so I think that I’ll probably manage.”

  “Very well then Gentlemen, if there is nothing further, I think this pleasant evening must draw to a close.” As the officers rose and uttered their thanks for the hospitality, Merriman said “It is I who must thank the wardroom for supplying most of the meal. Goodnight Gentlemen. Oh, Mr. McBride, would you remain behind for a moment.”

  When the others had gone, the Surgeon remained, slumped in his chair. McBride was red faced and sweating profusely having consumed more than his fair share of the claret. Also he was having great difficulty in keeping his eyes open.

  Merriman regarded him silently. It was not unusual for a ship’s surgeon at that time to have chosen to serve afloat rather than face a debtor’s prison or a cuckolded husband or worse. Perhaps lacking the skills required to make a competent living ashore, the navy was the lowest rung of the professional ladder available.

  “Mr. McBride,” Merriman’s voice cracked like a whip over the Surgeon’s head, “You will oblige me by sitting up straight and opening your eyes. I have no knowledge of your professional capabilities but I do know that you are drunk and over fond of the use of alcohol. It has not gone unnoticed that you do not rise for breakfast and when you do appear on deck, it is obvious that you’ve been drinking. This I will not tolerate. From now on you will come on deck every morning at the change from the morning watch to the forenoon watch in a clean and sober condition and report to the officer of the watch. Should you fail to do so, the officer will have orders to have you brought on deck in whatever state you happen to be in and there you will remain until you are sober. Do you understand me?”

  Merriman’s words slowly penetrated the man’s confused mind. “Oh God, he’d done it again. Why couldn’t he keep off the drink?” Every good resolution lasted until the next time a bottle was in front of him. He was filled with self pity and self loathing in equal measure. “Sir you don’t understand, I can’t ----” his voice trailed off before the anger in the Captain’s face.

  “I understand only too well” said Merriman, “Bad excuses are worse than none. You must mend your ways. I’ll not have a drunkard trying to tend men with shattered bodies, broken limbs or any other injury possible in a ship of war. They deserve better. Now, get back to your cabin, and remember, wine has drowned more men than the sea.”

  After the man had struggled to his feet and staggered from the cabin, Merriman wondered if he had been too hard. No, he decided, the wretched man must climb out of the pit of misery he had dug for himself and he would need to be helped to help himself. There was probably a sad story behind him but that would have to be ignored. If McBride did not improve, he would have to go.

  That decided, Merriman went on deck for a breath of fresh air. Seeing him, Mr. Andrews moved to the leeward side to leave his Captain his own side. Merriman checked the slate by the binnacle. The slate listed alterations of course, sail changes and Captain’s orders for the day. Usually made up by the Master, the information thereon was used by both Captain and Master to complete their daily logs. Merriman called the Lieutenant over and showed him what he had just written, his orders concerning McBride.

  “Ensure that each officer at the change of watch carries this out until further orders. Goodnight Mr. Andrews.”

  “Aye-aye Sir, goodnight.”

  Five days later, delayed by adverse winds, the Aphrodite rounded the northern tip of Anglesey, keeping well off to avoid the dreaded Skerries, an isolated group of rocks which had been the death of many a proud ship. It was time to begin her new role.

  Chapter 13: A visit to the Custom House

  In the candlelight, Helen Simpson studied her reflection in the mirror over her dressing table as she brushed her hair vigorously before going to bed. Her long dark hair shone in the candlelight and her complexion was more coloured by the sun in India than society considered right for a lady. “Damn Society”, she said to herself, “I don’t care what society thinks, I won’t be bound by their petty conventions, I won’t, I won’t”.

  She sighed, “There I go again, why do I always seem to be at odds with people?” She knew that her father wanted to see her safely married so that her future might be assured, and in truth she had no real objections to the idea, but she had always kept men at arms length. She thought about the men who had tried to win her affections back in India, the
company clerks and garrison officers, more boys than men she considered, and the older men, usually married, and often drunk as they tried to assail her virtue. She had grown so accustomed to discouraging them by deliberately not taking them seriously or turning them away with a cutting remark that it had become a habit she was finding hard to break.

  Her thoughts moved to Lieutenant Merriman and her expression softened and turned rather wistful. There was no doubt that she was attracted to him, he aroused feelings within herself such as she had not experienced before. But in spite of that she knew that she had upset him with her remarks. “Now he has gone again, back to the sea which he so obviously loves and it could be months or maybe years before I see him again”. She sighed again and brushed her hair even more vigorously

  She could not know that the object of her thoughts and his companion were even then being rowed ashore at the tip of the Wirral peninsula. The Aphrodite had crept slowly along the Horse Channel guided by the Sea Lights on the coast and the so called Lake Lights and when the Lake Lights were in line dropped anchor near the north east buoy at the corner of the Hoyle bank The night was almost pitch black relieved only by the sea lights and the light from the Schomberg lighthouse on the Point of Air. There were also a few scattered lights to be seen from the small villages of Little Meols and Hoose.

  Merriman thought about the orders he had given to the First Lieutenant before leaving the ship. He was harbouring doubts about Mr. Jeavons, especially as he had requested his orders to be put in writing. The orders couldn’t be simpler, the ship was to cruise well offshore out of sight of land, ignoring other vessels, and to return to the same place inshore the following night, close to midnight. If they saw Merriman’s signal, a lantern flashed three times, a boat was to be sent to pick him up. If no signal was seen then the same orders were to be followed for the next two nights. “Can’t worry about Jeavons now” he told himself, “I’ll just have to trust him.”