‘Thank God for that,’ came out with palpable relief. ‘I doubt I’m alone on this ship in not wishing to be a party to what would surely be murder.’
‘Do you really think I would?’
‘I recall what you were never tired of telling me about the powers of captains at sea.’
‘The ship and its cargo. What I should do is put a crew aboard and take them to a home port, where both can be handed over to the Revenue.’
‘The crew aboard now, you don’t mention them.’
‘They would be pressed into the navy. Smugglers are usually experienced seamen.’
A cough had him turn. There was the Mite to tell him they were between the chase and the shore, as well as closing to within range of chain shot.
‘They appear to be chucking stuff overboard, sir. Mr Hallowell says he can’t be sure, but it appears the name board that was under canvas has gone from the stern.’
‘I will be on deck presently, Mr Livingston.’ When the boy had gone, Pearce looked hard at Oliphant. ‘While I’m dealing with taking possession, perhaps you can think on the matter. Feel free to help yourself to some wine.’
On deck the tension had not eased, nor, even if it was not voiced, the curiosity. Or was it concern at what they were about to do, for none were sure it was worth the effort? There was wonder when Pearce picked up the speaking trumpet and hailed the other deck, to tell them he was in command of HMS Hazard and ordering them to heave to.
Two cannon, probably all they had per side, blasted off simultaneously, badly aimed. His ship suffered no damage, so Pearce, having got Hazard round until his cannon would bear, ordered his main deck to reply. The ship recoiled slightly, as the fire rippled down the side, each 6-pounder going off a second after its nearest neighbour.
As the smoke from the broadside cleared away, they could see the rigging on the merchant vessel was badly shredded, sails ripped, blocks dislodged and ropes cut in two, not least one of the stays securing the foremast. There was no one on the wheel, which had Pearce wonder – in truth he hoped – whether some badly aimed chain shot had cut both the Tollands in half.
‘They’re abandoning ship, sir,’ called Hallowell, his telescope trained on the target.
‘Hardly surprising. Mr Livingston, tell Mr Worricker to house his guns. Mr Hallowell, a boat party to take possession, if you please.’
‘And the crew, sir?’
‘I don’t think they can outrun us, do you?’
Hallowell grinned, the first time for a while. ‘Prime hands, smugglers, sir, be a good addition to the crew.’
‘We shall see.’
As soon as Hallowell and his boat crew had got away, Hazard went in pursuit of what was no more than a forlorn hope. By the time they overhauled them, the long beach between Gravelines and Calais was just visible. Moberly had his marines lined up on the bulwarks, muskets aimed and awaiting the order to fire, which John Pearce had made his own.
They had tried hard, those rowing, collapsing over their oars when the sloop closed in, to tower over their boat. John Pearce went to the open gangway, to call down to the only two looking up instead of down. There was Jaleel, ugly, his choleric, pockmarked face as unchanged as his ill temper. And little brother Franklin, of a softer more becoming visage, marred by the deep scar Pearce had inflicted.
‘We meet again.’
He had to jump backwards as Jaleel Tolland whipped up a pistol and fired it off, the crack of the passing ball audible, Pearce shouting to the marines to hold their fire, which was obeyed. He was back at the gangway in seconds, favouring them with a wolfish grin.
‘It appears you wish me to string you up.’ The elder Tolland had a gravel voice, which invited Pearce to do his worst. ‘Mr Moberly, please drag these scum aboard and see that the master-at-arms puts them in shackles. Mr Williams, as soon as you can, let us rejoin Mr Hallowell. I am keen to see what we have acquired.’
It soon became obvious what they had been throwing into the sea, as reported by the Mite. While men were set to repair as much of the rigging as possible, Hallowell had searched for paperwork and found none, which indicated that whatever it had contained was information they had no desire should be seen, material to fool any inspection by the Revenue. Ownership documents, forged bills of lading, which would include made-up evidence of what had been purchased, from whom, and for how much. Like the name board, it had all gone to the bottom.
Hallowell had not been idle; he had been in the holds listing the cargo. ‘Brandy, wine, tea, bolts of silk and lace. Worth a mint as a prize and none of it ours.’
The last bit was delivered with an odd expression: not glum as it should be, but as though he was wishing it could be otherwise. The list was handed over to Pearce, who gave it a cursory glance, then put it in his pocket.
‘Stay in hailing distance and set your course to follow ours.’
That acknowledged, Pearce took a boat back to Hazard. Once both vessels were under way, with instructions to sail a circular course, maintaining not much more than steerage way, he sought out Michael O’Hagan. He issued instructions to separate the Tollands from the rest of their crew. Back in his cabin he found Oliphant, feet up in Pearce’s own chair, a glass of wine in his hand and, judging by the state of the bottle, far from his first one.
‘Have a look at this.’
The list was handed over, while a look was enough to have Oliphant move to another chair, where he sat examining it.
‘You will no doubt duplicate my premier, who termed it worth a mint.’ That got an emphatic nod. ‘So now we come to the question of what we do with it – either send it and the ship to the bottom, or sail for somewhere like Ramsgate to hand it over to the people who have done nothing to deserve it.’
‘Seems a shame either way – but no choice, I suppose,’ was the sad conclusion, as Oliphant drained his glass.
‘What if it was taken as French?’
That had Oliphant sit up. If there were many things about the man Pearce did not like, he could not fault his quick intelligence. It was almost possible to see the brain working.
‘Can I tell you, there is many a rumour that, over the years, what I’m going to propose has happened before? Not that any actual evidence exists, it’s all apocryphal and hearsay, but strong nevertheless.’
Pearce expected Oliphant to understand the difference between what should happen and what did, a gap that existed in every walk of life. The Articles of War and the regulations sounded as if they left no room for manoeuvre: everyone in the King’s Navy knew that to be untrue. Bending the rules was not only endemic: it was essential and no more than in the taking of prizes, which was seen as an ordinary function for an officer wishing to prosper. Many – not all, it had to be admitted – spouted enthusiastically as well as hypocritically about their love of country. For a goodly number, their love of a full purse took precedence.
‘As long as you’re not going to suggest selling it in Calais.’
That made Pearce grin. ‘The notion did occur. That we could beach the ship, at high tide, by arrangement. And I reckoned you might like to revisit the lady you called Marie, not I assume her real name.’
That got Oliphant a cold stare, one to which he declined to respond.
‘But making it happen is fraught with risk, you going ashore being the most obvious and difficult to explain. The real worry being it could be construed as treason.’
‘So the other possibility is?’
‘When we first sighted her, she was under no national ensign. The sods only raised a British flag when we sent a couple of balls in her direction, which is very much something an enemy vessel might do to seek to humbug us. The board with the name of the ship and its home port was covered to begin with, with what I took to be airing canvas. But it was then dumped in the sea, along with every scrap of documentation. So, we have a vessel that was and still is a mystery.’
‘And if it’s a prize ship?’
‘The hull and everything aboard will be sold,
to be shared by the ship’s company.’
‘Which does not include me.’
The response was delivered with deep irony. ‘I admire your generosity towards your fellow human beings, it’s so like you. But I can rate you as a midshipman so you do share.’
‘Even I know they don’t get much of that.’
‘Since we’re not sailing under a flag officer, I will get the admiral’s eighth, so I can gift you enough of a reward.’
‘That I’d like in writing,’ was imparted as only half a jest.
‘Oliphant, you’re not navy. I think I can get the others to agree with me, but they will know you need to do so as well. If it ever came out that we engaged in subterfuge …’
‘Don’t you mean fraud?’
‘I suppose I do. But it’s not just the officers who will gain, the crew will as well. Coin on their first outing.’
‘Which will see them eating out of your hand.’
‘Again, you’re ahead of where I thought you would be.’
‘And what about the smugglers chained up below?’
‘I have a solution for that.’
The conference, in the cabin, saw the same crowd as had sat down to dinner. Now they stood listening to Pearce outlining the same options, sans Marie, as he had to Oliphant. He was relying on two factors: their own self-interest, as well as a knowledge of the rumours of deception previously practised. Then there was getting one over on the Revenue. All must agree, without exception, so all could share. They nodded at his point about the vessel having no name and no home port, so it could be from anywhere, which was heartening.
‘I will record in the log that she carried no flag and, on boarding, possessed no papers. Given we had no idea of her nationality, and we took her so close to the enemy coast, we are assuming her to be a French merchantman and therefore a prize.’
Moberly posed the same question as Oliphant, to get the same reply, but no actual details as to what Pearce intended. He undertook to reveal that at the appropriate time.
‘Ultimately, I have responsibility and I’m damned if I’m going to be dunned for the price of powder and shot for taking a smuggler.’
If there was any wavering that acceptance of accountability snuffed it out.
‘Mr Hallowell, it falls to you to take the prize into harbour. I would suggest it would be good that Mr Maclehose accompanies you. I leave you to pick the crew you need.’
‘You will not sail with us, sir?’
‘Not to start with, but I may catch you even before you drop anchor. If not, it will be a very short time until we’re reunited.’ He looked pointedly at Oliphant. ‘Then I must tell you, we have a task to perform, one of which I cannot as yet give you details. So, we will touch at Ramsgate only for as long as is necessary and no longer. Time and tide, as the Bard said.’
The level of curiosity was at a high pitch; no one had any inkling of what Pearce had in mind. Much time was spent repairing the capture’s rigging, but it was done in such a way as to show it had been seriously shredded. Authenticity was all. That done the pair parted company, Pearce waiting till his ‘prize’ was over the horizon before ordering a course to take Hazard north.
If they were mystified before, it was even odder now and enlightenment was not forthcoming, even when they sighted the topsails of the North Sea Fleet. One of the swivels gave the required salute to Admiral Duncan’s flag, but it was for HMS Bedford that the sloop was headed. Under the control of Mr Williams, John Pearce was with the Tollands, chained up just between the bottom of the hold and above the bilge.
They were three people who, under the light of a lantern, only had in common the expressions on their faces, one of undisguised hatred. Pearce had come to tell this pair how wrong they were about their grievance. One look and he decided not to bother: he knew he would be wasting his breath.
‘You got away from the fate I had in store for you once, but not a second time.’
‘So no rope?’ Franklin enquired, which got him a blast from Jaleel.
‘Don’t beg. If he wants to stretch our necks, let him do so, and I’ll curse him yet as I drop.’
‘I would prefer to drop you overboard with a round shot in your breeches. Much as I’d like to, I am barred from doing so.’ Then he called out to his Pelicans. ‘Unshackle them and get them into a boat with a chain round their feet.’
There were three boats in the water: barge, cutter and jolly boat, with the Tollands’ crew split up into groups. As soon as the brothers and Pearce were aboard, they set off for Bedford, which had Byard at the gangway well before they hooked on.
‘An unlikely call, Mr Pearce.’
‘A welcome one, I think you’ll find, sir.’
Everyone was left in the boats, as Pearce clambered aboard and went through the rituals, which inevitably led to Byard’s cabin and a bottle of wine. Following that was an explanation.
‘If you will forgive my lack of a full clarification, I cannot have these twenty men about HMS Hazard. In their numbers I would fear mutiny, but on a third rate, with a crew of over five hundred, they can be absorbed.’
‘Would they be inclined to mutiny?’
‘I will point out to you a pair that would be ringleaders if the occasion ever arose. I would not see any of them being allowed ashore.’
‘I trust very few ashore. This is a singular gift, Pearce, especially in these times.’
‘You were kind enough to help me in my hour of need. I see it as repaying that. All I ask is that they be exposed to a proper degree of discipline.’
‘Which they will be, by damn. Mutiny, indeed.’
‘Now sir, as I am on Admiralty orders and have an assignment …’
‘You wish to be away?’
‘I do.’
‘Well, you’re not going afore we empty this second bottle.’
Pearce stood by the gangway as the Tollands were brought aboard, a smile on his face designed to annoy them, which succeeded, more with Jaleel than Franklin, the former in receipt of his parting shot.
‘I will wager you’ll be at the grating before the week is out, and I can tell you, Byard is not just a two-dozen man.’
‘And you,’ Jaleel spat. ‘Hell will freeze before you can rest easy.’
The starter hit him hard across the back and a rough voice told him to stow his tongue. This had Jaleel spin round to retaliate. He found himself looking into the face of a bosun’s mate, inviting him to try.
EPILOGUE
HMS Hazard made Ramsgate in two days, to find Hallowell and Jock the Sock on board the prize and anchored outside. The tide left the inner harbour as mud, with not much deep water for anything of a size in the middle. Besides, they could not let the men off in case they deserted, so had been obliged to stay aboard themselves. Pearce likewise anchored in Joss Bay and went to see them.
‘We have not yet properly reported to the Port Admiral, sir, but an officer came out to us and we have declared the prize. We have been promised a crew to take it up to Greenwich, where it can be valued.’
‘I am bound to visit him anyway. Do we have a name?’
‘Admiral Vereker, sir.’
The admiral was housed in another one of those comfortable buildings overlooking the harbour, which had been built in the time of the early Georges, while the occupant was probably, by his name, a descendant of those who had come over with William of Orange in the last century. Bluff, fat and hearty, he looked Dutch, with his big head and high colour.
Dinner was essential, as was the tale of the taking of the capture, which tested Pearce’s powers of invention to make it interesting, and it was held to be a pity the crew of the capture, so close to the Calais beach, had been able to take to boats and get away. Vereker was honest enough to bemoan he was not the responsible flag officer, so would not get his eighth. Pearce was dissembler enough to commiserate with him.
‘Lucky to catch me, Pearce, I was up at the Admiralty for the last week.’
‘I hope they treated you with
respect, sir.’
‘Odd thing to say. Mind they can be damned awkward. Nepean seems sound. Never took to Sir Philip Stephens, no salt water in his veins.’
‘I wish I had time to go to London, sir, but my duty forbids it.’
‘Then you’ll miss the sensation of the season. Everyone’s talking of it.’
‘And what, sir, would that be?’
‘That murder case, the one where that woman was ravaged and cut up. In Covent Garden.’
That required a bit of swallowing and he wondered if Emily was somehow involved, not that he could mention it, but he had to say something.
‘The culprit was a fellow called Gherson, I recall.’
‘Not so. That clever lawyer fellow, Garrow, got him acquitted.’
‘Really?’ was all Pearce could say. ‘How interesting. I wonder: if he didn’t do it, who did?’
‘Nine-day wonder, Pearce. No one will care in a week.’
After dinner, all arrangements in place and a letter posted to Alexander Davidson to tell him of his good fortune, as well as to ensure all was properly done, Pearce made his way by barge back to HMS Hazard. Hallowell had welcomed aboard the crew who would take the vessel upriver and left to rejoin the sloop. Now everyone was aboard and no leaks could occur, he invited his officers to a glass of wine and told them where they were off to.
‘We will weigh in the morning, gentlemen. Our destination, I can tell you, is the Mediterranean. And I hope it will be a happy hunting ground.’
Gherson had come out of the Old Bailey, to face a crowd who had fully expected to next see him at his hanging. Fickle as the mob is, they cheered him to the rafters like a hero, if indeed that could be done outdoors. Walter Hodgson had hired a trio of sturdy men to get him to a hack and away, which was not easy when his new supporters wished to hoist and carry him on their shoulders. At Charing Cross he was put on the Portsmouth coach; once there he would be on his own.
‘Keep low until you get a place,’ Hodgson advised him. ‘Don’t go gallivanting about and whoring, or they’ll fish you out of the harbour.’
A Close Run Thing Page 30
