His first words revealed him to be a Frenchman. “I understand that you believe all to be in readiness for our plan to proceed, mes amis, but I need still to be convinced that this is so. Le bateau, I mean the ship, has been disguised and concealed and a crew found from your Irish comrades, this I know, but I am still uncertain how well they can manage the guns or how well they will take orders from my French officers.”
“Have no fear on that score Monsieur Moreau” said the dark haired Irishman, “we’re all determined that the plan will succeed and the bloody English will find that they are dealing with a harder and better organised group of Irishmen than they can imagine.” He scowled briefly and in the candlelight his face took on a malevolent cast. “Your plan cannot fail. The men I sent to help know what is at stake and how important it is to the future of Ireland. They’ll control their desire to kill the prisoners, at least until they have served our purpose. And if you need more men I can raise them for you. When we’ve done what we must, all Ireland will rise in our support and drive the oppressor from the soil of our land.” His eyes glowed with fanaticism as the men round the room shouted their approval of his sentiments.
“And then Mister, we will be able to repay France for her help in our struggle. She will be able to use our ports from which to attack England.”
“Mon Dieu Monsieur O’Donnell, if your words are true we will succeed ten times over. ‘owever there are some items which we must still determine. One, it is essential that we know the actual time that the ship will sail carrying the people we want to capture and the message must be passed to our ships in good time for them to reach the point of attack. How is that to be done?”
The tall, slim and aristocratic man who had not yet spoken replied, “I am to travel to London tomorrow to join the Viceroy’s party and I’ll send word by courier from there when he and I and the others actually leave London. A courier will travel far quicker than we will so that you will have at least two days in hand. The ship which is named the Dorset won’t sail the moment the party arrives at Parkgate but will be delayed whilst their baggage is loaded and even then sailing could be further delayed by the state of the tide and weather. So you see, from the moment word arrives from London there will be plenty of time for a boat to sail to where the cutter is concealed and then for it and your ship to meet at the pre-arranged place off Anglesey.”
“There will be no escort vessel so that there will be no difficulty in your two ships overpowering the crew of the Dorset. Just make certain that your men know who I am. I don’t want to be killed by mistake.”
The smallest man smirked, “I think Sir William, that we can safely say that our plan is complete in every detail. What can go wrong?”
“Bon, and the second item Messieurs,” the Frenchman continued, “The part that is of almost equal importance to France?”
“Ah yes, the graphite or plumbago as we call it. As soon as Sir William’s courier reaches Mr. O’Donnell in Chester with confirmation of the time that the party is leaving London, then he’ll send a message to the captain of the fishing boat waiting at Parkgate who will then sail up the coast to where the graphite we’ve already stolen has been stored and hidden. After loading that they’ll wait until the cutter joins them after the Dorset has been taken”.
He laughed, “The mining company has lost so much of the stuff during its journey to London that they have decided to try to send it by sea from Ravenglass. Our friends in Borrowdale have told us that it’s being stored in a warehouse on the dockside under guard until they charter a ship. We’ll raid the warehouse at night, the guards quietly disposed of, then the casks containing the graphite quickly transferred to the cutter which will then rendezvous with you off the south coast of the Isle of Man. What can go wrong?”
O’Donnell looked slyly at the Frenchman, “You know the value of this graphite don’t you Monsieur? What we’ve already stolen from the mine and from the wagons taking it to London is worth over forty thousand pounds sterling. We’ve got more than four hundred casks of it and with the amount in the warehouse there could be over a hundred thousand pounds worth at the price charged for it in London, if not more. We’re trusting you to see that France honours our bargain and that we’ll all receive our share”.
The Frenchman looked at him with contempt. “Have no fear Monsieur O’Donnell, France will pay you very well, but you have still to deliver and complete your side of the bargain”.
“Very well then, I repeat, what can go wrong?”
“I think that much can go wrong” growled the fat man who had not yet spoken, “What happens if there is a gale blowing and our boats cannot put to sea? What if our hidden cutter is discovered? Suppose the graphite is shipped before we expect? I think that we have planned for most eventualities but it would not do to be too complacent.”
“Certainement Monsieur, you are right, but should there be un tempete, a storm, then no ship will sail and we may “ave une autre chance, n’est ce pas?”
“We’re as ready as we can be, said the small man, “All the men on the boats know what they have to do and they’re only waiting for the signal to mo---------”. He broke off as a shout, a shot and a scream were heard outside. The table and chairs were flung aside as the men around the room all rushed for the door led by the dark featured Irishman O’Donnell. The Frenchman and the other three men waited in silence until the Irishman re-appeared, his face white with shock.
“Somebody has been spying on us. I left a man on guard in the stable and he has been shot to death just outside the window of this room. He must have seen the intruder or spy outside and tried to catch him and been killed for his pains, but he must have made his mark before he died because the knife in his hand has blood on it. He was a good Irishman, we’ll miss him.”
“But this spy must be found immediately, God knows how much he overheard or if he saw any of our faces!” exclaimed the fat man, mopping his forehead with a large kerchief. “The whole plan may be in jeopardy.”
“All my men are searching for him now and he can’t be too far ahead of them. The sea is on one side of us and the moss on the other so he must keep to the road and is most likely heading for town. and if he’s badly hurt he won’t be able to travel fast.”
“Can’t he cross this moss you spoke of,” asked the small man with some asperity.
“No chance of that” replied O’Donnell, “It’s nearly all quagmire and quicksand. Many a man has disappeared in there, swallowed up with no trace left of him.”
“So gentlemen, nothing can go wrong, isn’t that what you said not quarter of an hour ago?” hissed the Frenchman, obviously keeping his temper with an effort. “I am surrounded by imbeciles. Your careless lack of enough guards has allowed an intruder to learn our secrets and if he is not found quickly I may be forced to abandon the entire affair. France cannot yet be publicly involved with your Irish revolution.”
“Well, whatever happens we must be on a boat back to England tomorrow morning” said the fat man to his two companions. “I am sure that you Sir William will be travelling the fastest way by packet boat so that you can to be sure of joining the Viceroy’s party in time, but my man and I will travel by less conspicuous means.”
“Monsieur Moreau, O’Donnell knows where to find us all and he’ll let us know if this spy has been captured or not. As we can do no more here now I think we should leave at once and go our separate ways.”
Chapter 15: The Viceroy of Ireland
Captain Merriman tried to keep a straight face when his son arrived back home but he couldn’t prevent a grin spreading across his face. “News James, news at last. I saw the farmer this morning and he agreed to help. He persuaded one of their servant girls to pretend to be Owen’s sister and he promised to pass on any messages as soon as possible.”
“That’s a good start, all we have to do is wait for Owen to come here once more so that we can tell him not to risk coming here again.”
“He was here shortly before mid-day, I’d j
ust got back from the farm so I was able to put him right on that. It seems that he’s been part of the crew of one of the boats the smugglers use to land contraband and he helped to transfer goods from a larger boat offshore which he is sure was French.”
“Good head on his shoulders that man, keeps his mouth shut and his ears open. Seems that he overheard the leader of the gang talking to one of the men on the French boat asking when ‘it’ was to take place, as the main plan was ready and they would know when the Royal Yacht would be sailing. Unfortunately he didn’t hear the answer and we don’t know what ‘it’ is.”
“The Royal Yacht? What bearing can that have on the actions of these villains I wonder?” replied Merriman, “Maybe Mr. Grahame can suggest something when he returns.”
They fell to discussing the Royal Yacht and speculating what connection the French and the smuggling gang could have with it.
The Royal Yacht at that time was no longer used by Royalty but was reserved exclusively for the use of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, the Viceroy, and other notable personages by his permission. The present one was the Dorset, built in 1753 specially for the Irish service. Of one hundred and sixty four tons, carved and gilded and with three masts, she was commanded by a naval officer and was usually moored at Parkgate.
At this time, Neston town had given way in importance to Parkgate as most of the passenger trade for Ireland, and most of the imports and exports for the area went through the port of Parkgate. There was no quayside, ships grounded at low water or anchored offshore at Beerhouse Pool. It was what was known as a “legal quay” and as such it had its own customs house with a staff afloat and ashore of some seventeen men. There was a vast trade in goods from Mediterranean ports, the Baltic, Portugal, Spain and other parts of the British Isles.
The Parkgate Packet Boat Company offered very respectable accommodation and ran at least six packet boats with daily sailings to the Isle of Man, Dublin and elsewhere, always subject to the weather conditions, These ferries were nearly all built in Parkgate and so the town had grown to house the supporting trades, shipwrights, carpenters, sailmakers and painters.
Because it was the main departure point for Ireland and in extreme weather conditions passengers having to wait days or even weeks for a passage, there grew up hotels, inns and all their supporting trades of servants, horse and coach hirers, ostlers and blacksmiths. Other services developed including an Assembly Room and as sea bathing had become the vogue there were also bath-houses on the shore. Parkgate in the 1780s and early 1790s was a thriving, bustling small town at the peak of its importance.
“James, do you imagine that the French may be contemplating some venture against the Dorset? It is the only idea that comes to mind,” said the older man.
“I really can’t see why they should, we aren’t at war and in any event doesn’t she have a naval escort when important people are aboard?” Merriman was perplexed and unconsciously fell into his habit of tugging his ear when thinking.
“Not now. There was an escort when we were at war with America and France, but I suppose it wasn’t considered necessary after the peace was signed.”
The two men started pacing up and down, hands clasped behind their back, brains furiously at work. Mrs. Merriman, who had entered the room almost unnoticed whilst the men talked, and had been sitting quietly beside the fire, suddenly spoke, “When we were in Chester at the theatre, I remember hearing some gossip to the effect that when the Lord Lieutenant goes to Ireland again in a week or two he will have with him many of the most important people in Ireland. I think they came to London for discussions with Mr. Pitt.”
“Mary my dear, you may have hit upon the answer. What about that James?”
“If these people are interested in the Dorset which is not a trading vessel carrying anything of value, then their interest must be in the passengers being carried. But why would the French be interested?”
“I don’t know James; the only reason I can think of for their interest would perhaps be if they intend to capture them or kill them and as you said, why would the French want to be involved in that kind of thing?”
They continued to pace up and down, brows furrowed in thought, but no solution to the problem presented itself to them.
“When do you expect to see Mr. Grahame again James, perhaps he may have some ideas?”
“We agreed to meet here tonight Father, Aphrodite will lie offshore tonight and tomorrow night waiting for our signal, so if he’s delayed he could come back here anytime before then.”
In the event, Grahame arrived back that night, both lathered horse and rider splashed with mud from head to toe. He asked that the two hired horses be prepared for the road immediately. “I regret having to ride your animal so hard Captain, but it is imperative that your son and I are back aboard the ship as soon as possible. I must be in Ireland tomorrow.”
During the fast ride back to Hoylake there was no time for discussing the information that Merriman had, especially as he was encumbered with the signal lantern and the package containing his new uniform and not being a very good rider at best, he found it difficult to keep up with the pace that Grahame set, and he thanked his stars for the practice he’d had when last home. Even when they reached the beach after a breathless scramble over the sand dunes and made the required signal out to sea, Grahame remained uncommunicative other than to wonder where the damned boat was.
The two shivering men stood waiting in the darkness for what seemed like an age but in reality was no more than a quarter of an hour, with Merriman flashing the signal every few minutes. Grahame was irritable and impatient at the delay, but Merriman, with the patience learned in his years at sea stood calmly waiting, knowing that with the offshore breeze the boat’s crew would have a hard pull to reach the shore.
“At last, your men will have to do better than this next time Mr.Merriman” complained Grahame as the boat loomed out of the darkness and ran up on the shingle.
Merriman sighed to himself, having learned long ago that it was better to simply accept that all senior officers were short tempered and not to worry about it.
“Back to the ship now, fast as you can” he ordered as soon as they had clambered aboard the boat.
Climbing back on board the Aphrodite to the accompaniment of salutes from the officers and marine sentry, he called the first Lieutenant and the Master to him.
“Mr.Jeavons, I’ll have the ship under way immediately with all the sail she can carry. Mr.Cuthbert, a course for Ireland if you please.” He swung round to Mr.Grahame.
“Will Dublin suit you Sir?”
“That will be ideal Captain. If you can leave the deck, I need to know what you have learned today, and if your man can find me something to eat I would be grateful.”
Settled in Merriman’s cramped cabin, Grahame demanded to know if Merriman had any news, whereupon Merriman recounted what he had learned from Mr.Flitwick about the cutter probably still being in the Irish sea, and also what Owen had reported about the French ship and the reference to the Royal Yacht Dorset.
“Great God! The Dorset, is your man certain of that? Could he be mistaken?”
“I suppose it is possible, but knowing him as I do I would wager that he is right.”
“This intelligence changes everything.”
Grahame stood up suddenly and crashing his head against a deck beam, subsided back into his seat. “Damn it, I always forget how low the ceilings are.”
“Deckhead Sir” said Merriman automatically. But Grahame didn’t hear. He fell into deep thought, absently rubbing his head where it had hit the beam.
Merriman sat silently, knowing that Grahame would tell him what he had learned when he was ready.
“Mr Merriman, are you aware of the importance of the Dorset and her movements?”
“No Sir, I mean I don’t know the details of her movements but I do know that she is only used for the passage of important people to and from Ireland.”
“Exactly, so why would
these villains be interested in the Dorset unless they were interested in the passengers?”
“That’s what my Father and I agreed on, but we could think of no reason for their interest.”
“I can Mr. Merriman, but I hope I’m wrong. The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, the Earl of Westmorland, is in London at the moment with several of the biggest landowners of that country and has been there for several weeks. Mr. Pitt is discussing with them ways and means of solving the Irish problem and dispensing with the unjust laws preventing free and fair trade between England and Ireland. Unfortunately these very people are the ones who have the most to lose if the law is changed. They stand to lose their lucrative trading monopolies and their powerful positions in Parliament so that Mr.Pitt can make little headway. Westmorland himself has to bribe many of the men of influence to get even the simplest measures adopted. It’s certain that they will be returning to Ireland very soon.”
“Then there is the reason we are looking for Sir. The Irish rebels would love to get their hands on these people to either kill or hold as hostages to force the government to give Ireland its freedom and Catholic emancipation, and the French would be happy to help them achieve that goal. A free Ireland as their ally would allow them to attack this country from two sides, three, with a foothold in the Dutch Netherlands.”
“I believe we have it Mr. Merriman! The reason I’m anxious to be in Dublin is that my agent there sent a message asking me to go over there urgently as he had important news concerning the Lord Lieutenant. It’s not impossible that he has some knowledge of this. I’d be obliged if you could land me at a place just south of Dublin as soon as maybe.”
“The wind is fair Sir, so you will be there in only a few hours to meet your agent.”
They were not to know that Mr. Grahame’s agent was even then lying in a ditch with his throat cut.
Chapter 16: Patrolling the Irish Sea
“Pick me up here two nights hence Captain, same signal, before midnight. If I’m not there try again the following night. If I fail to appear then you will have to do what you think best about what we discussed” said Grahame. He was obviously worried as he had requested the loan of a brace of heavy pistols and spent almost an hour checking them over and loading them with extreme care. He also drew the charges and reloaded a small double-barreled pocket pistol and asked that his sword be sharpened.
A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
