Steam & Stratagem

by Christopher Hoare

  “Och weel. Ah see the sense o’t. Ah would expect tae post an NCO an’ six men at an entry point, as mah tactical hinge, M’Lord.”

  They set out from the gate, following Urquhart as he led them between two fieldstone and wooden structures. “The warehouse to the left is for iron, that on the right for timber.”

  “Would either of these be of concern to the spies?” Lord Bond asked.

  Roberta glanced at the left one, noting that she could glimpse some of the contents through broken planks in the walls. “The wrought iron plates brought in to construct the hulls would be interesting if they were of unusual thickness.”

  “What would be unusual?”

  “Anything thicker than half an inch, as we discussed in the London meeting, My Lord.”

  Lord Bond frowned a moment but then nodded. Roberta hoped he recalled the need to determine the thickness of the French armour plate.

  Urquhart stared. “Why would a yard need iron plates that heavy, Miss Stephenson?”

  “I’m afraid I cannot explain at the moment. It has some significance for the ships we are planning.”

  They left the buildings behind and walked to a fork in the access road. “The building ahead is Steam Powerhouse #2,” Urquhart said. “Over there is the Plate Bending shop, and behind it is the Forge. In the other direction are the Planing Mill and the Joinery.”

  “Ah might station twa sawjerrs here at th’ vantage point, M’Lord.”

  “Good thought, Captain.” Lord Bond nodded. “Where are the vessels still under construction, Mr. Urquhart?”

  “You cannot see the actual building docks from here, My Lord, they are below ground level.” He pointed. “Those hoists and cranes are between them.”

  “The ships are built in graving docks in this yard,” Roberta explained. “Only the Stephenson yard is building on slipways at the moment.”

  As they walked she listened to the conversation behind between Elizabeth and Captain McNab. “Ah am told yer folk waur French emigres, Miss Grandin.”

  “Ah . . . yes, Captain. My father and grandfather escaped the Reign of Terror in 1792 and brought us to England.”

  “Sae ye speak French very weel, Ah suppose. Ah learned th’ language when Ah guarded French prisoners transported frae th’ West Indies.”

  “Then you understand and speak French, Captain?” Lord Bond asked.

  “Je comprend bien la lang, mon Seigneur,” the captain answered. Elizabeth caught Roberta’s eye and the two quickly wiped the smiles from their faces.

  “How much have you used the language?” Lord Bond asked.

  “J’ai e’ très peu besoin d’elle en Scotland, mon Seigneur.”

  “Doubtless,” Lord Bond said with wry smile. “Not many Frenchmen to converse with. You seem to be getting rather rusty.”

  “Indeed, M’Lord. It was th’ reason fur mah interest in Miss Grandin’s fluency. Ah wood appreciate th’ opportunity tae improve it.”

  Roberta jumped in to answer as Elizabeth held a handkerchief to her lips. “I’m sure Miss Grandin will be pleased to help you, Captain. When she has time from her work.”

  “Over there is the blacksmith shop,” Mr. Urquhart told them. “That’s about it. You should be able to guide them from here, Miss Stephenson. If you will excuse me, I have some matters to attend to.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Urquhart.”

  “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Urquhart,” Lord Bond said with some coolness. “I will be sure to commend your cooperation to Their Lordships of the Admiralty.”

  Urquhart frowned as he turned away to leave them, but made no attempt to change Lord Bond’s impression.

  “Rather an ungenial person,” Lord Bond remarked. “Are all your countrymen as reserved, Captain?”

  “By nae means, M’lord, but there are some individuals tha’ act as if Culloden waur only yesterday. A body disnae usually meet them in Glasgee.”

  “Hmmm. I suppose his manner might have some connection with the yard’s quarrel with the Stephensons, Miss Roberta?”

  “I think that may be the brunt of it, My Lord. If you do not mind, I will try to use your inspection as an opportunity to see if the delay in launching the new hull in the graving dock is genuine or a device to raise the payments we had previously agreed upon.”

  “Champion, my dear! I see you have quite embraced the idea and principles of covert observation. These are the very foundations of being a good spy. You will be able to see if their difficulties are in fact those they claim?”

  “I expect so, My Lord.” Roberta felt somewhat dismayed at His Lordship’s readiness to praise her ability as a spy, but she extended her reply into details that might convey the impression that the purpose was more important to her than the means. “They claim to have been ordered by their customer to replace some rivets in the lower part of the puffer’s hull—a contract matter. It will be easy to see if they have the necessary forge set up in the dock to heat replacement rivets.”

  Lord Bond smiled. “Shall we go there first? I should be pleased to have served your interests as much as you have served mine.”

  “I think it best to wait until Mr. Urquhart has quite given up such suspicions as those that soured his mood, and gone on to further business, My Lord. I think first we might look at the unloading quays on the river bank. Observing the material being unloaded from a distance could well be more productive than attempting to penetrate the centre of the yard.”

  “Excellent, my dear. Your good sense is already proving of great value. What do you say, Captain?”

  “Indeed, M’Lord, th’ lassie have a braw understandin’ at th’ shipbuildin’ trade, but Ah see wee chance how sawjerrs stationed here micht prevent sic’ observation.”

  When they reached the quayside and were able to look down at the barges being unloaded, Roberta gave a quick explanation. “The nearest barge is carrying iron plates for the hull of a spiteful class vessel. It has come as a tow all the way from the Lowmoor Ironworks in Yorkshire. The farther barge has just arrived from the Stephenson yard with heavy frames already cut and shaped for assembly into the keel of the ship to be built here.”

  Lord Bond seemed impressed and made many more appreciative remarks as they continued their inspection around the yard. In some ways, Roberta was also pleased, but had to admit that her wisest purpose was being betrayed by her contribution to the project. She had hoped to convince His Lordship that she might have very little to offer in the matter of espionage.

  While the others were away at the Urquhart and McArthur yard Mr. Stephenson took the opportunity to look over the ship’s lines his daughter had prepared. He was, however, surprised to find Mr. Holmes there already, apparently with the same intention.

  “Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of our ship’s lines? Is there a better mathematical method you might offer that would provide for greater accuracy?”

  “I would not presume to know your business better than you and your daughter do, Sir. If my mathematics can assist you in what you have already accomplished I would be more than gratified. This object has been the instigation of my discussions with your daughter over the application of Newton’s method of fluxions and fluents . . . that I earnestly believe she will find of inestimable value to her work.”

  “Indeed, I am most grateful for your interest in her engineering work and in our family endeavours, Mr. Holmes. It is not often that one can share in the knowledge of a Cambridge mathematician.”

  “As for devising a mathematical equivalence of the drafting work carried out here, I venture to suggest that the method for applying the results to the actual metal do not currently exist. I really do not see that I can do more than offer an imperfect method of testing certain segments of the lines for their correspondence to what was in the mind of the draftsman . . . or drafts-lady.”

  “I must express my sincere appreciation for your opinion, Sir. If I were a better proponent of theoretical figuring I might see where my questions are not as well considered
as they might be—I’m afraid that as an engineman in my youth, a valuable part of my education was delayed to the point that any attempt to recover it sits poorly with the rules of thumb that have been my usual engineering methods. My daughter has the benefit of youth as well as a mind trained better by Miss Mather in her Ladies’ Academy.”

  “I believe she received a very valuable grounding there, even as far as discussion of the disputation between Sir Isaac and Herr Leibnitz as to the true inventor of the system of fluxions. Miss Roberta explained that the main reason Miss Mather did not include more training in this mathematical method was a feeling of her own inadequacy as a tutor. Such intellectual honesty is as gratifying as it is unusual . . . certainly an attribute to the fair sex, Sir.”

  Mr. Stephenson responded with a thoughtful look, but did not quite fathom how he might extend the conversation into the conviviality he had seen develop from this common interest in mathematics between Roberta and the acuminous Mr. Holmes. “My daughter too has her feet firmly upon the ground in material things, Sir, but she is not ungiven to flights of fancy in some respects. The advantages given her by her gender also include some degree of sensibility along with the sense.”

  “Ah, Mr. Stephenson, there you threaten to pass from my grasp of sense into the tempting regions of sensibility—a journey I am loath to venture upon.”

  “You surprise me, Sir. I have seen your easy conviviality with your friend, Lord Bond, and marked it as a superior form of interlocution between . . . if I may be so bold as to suggest . . . between Whig and Tory, to the benefit of both.”

  “Yes, our circumstances would inevitably suggest our hearts are given to different social classes, but the accidents of birth do not entirely mark our careers as men. Lord Bond and I go back many years and have been tested much in the past. I believe that is as much as I may present upon the matter that also engages another who is not party to the discussion, and since we are both under the same degree of hospitality that you have afforded us here I would like you to accept my response as intended with the utmost degree of cordiality even as I must be about my affairs and leave you here to your weightier tasks. I bid you the most salubrious good day, Sir.”

  Mr. Stephenson did his best to hide the astonishment he felt for the other’s response to his interest in both young gentlemen who displayed a degree of interest in his daughter—if he were not entirely misreading the situation. Surely as a father he might be entitled to a degree of inquiry into a matter that concerned his duties, but he managed a measured response. “Indeed, Mr. Holmes, if I may wish you an equally good day with as much cordiality.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Another Suiter?

  Lieutenant Worthington left his work crew in the engine room of the Spiteful and climbed to the weather deck of the vessel. His list of alterations and improvements was gradually being ticked off and he felt hopeful that they might float the ship out of the dock by the end of the week to prepare for a proving voyage of the work.

  He glanced about at the other activities being carried out as he made his way to the gangplank to cross over to the wall of the dock. Mr. MacRae stood supervising the workmen here so he merely nodded a greeting as he passed . . . the man was an excellent seaman and he had no intention of second guessing his work.

  “Good day to ye, Mr. Worthington,” MacRae said as he passed. “Are ye away?”

  “I am. I wish to find Mr. Stephenson. Do ye know where he is?”

  “You’ll likely find him on one o’ the slips. I heard they planned to set the keels for the ship to be built in twa halves this afternoon.”

  “Thank you for the information. I shall go there first.” This would be the second of the new vessels they were to construct and the first to be built to negotiate the Firth and Clyde Canal. It would need to be towed to Tyneside for installation of the engines and boilers. Only one of the spiteful class ships would receive its engines and boilers here, before the resources had to be reserved for the larger, secret warship’s construction.

  He had not been told the reason for this larger warship, but assumed Miss Stephenson had received all the particulars in the Admiralty boardroom after he and Commander Ripley left. No doubt this secret was connected with the new spying mission Lord Bond prepared for. It was unusual for such great secrecy to be decreed for shipyard work, but he had no doubt but that the reasons were sound and the new threat most dire.

  His duty would be to train crews for the spiteful class ships, and so he made sure not to appear inquisitive about this other, but he had to admit of some apprehension at the possibility of danger to Miss Stephenson in the project. His Lordship seemed to find every opportunity to include her in his spy training, and the impression created by the application of Mr. Holmes to the practices of shipyard work gave him the impression that the French were up to some new and novel devilry in their steamship plans. If she were to be involved he was quite prepared to volunteer as a member of the spy team to watch over her—even if it should mean the loss of his new assignment and promotion.

  He walked between the plate bending shop and the foundry on his way to the slips. At slip number two he found a foreman and crew setting the first iron frame to the keel. This man told him that Mr. Stephenson was at the next slip.

  He made his way between the iron posts supporting the track of a travelling crane along the length of the slip and walked across the lay down area for ironwork ready for working into the hull. He entered the next slip through a similar construction and immediately caught sight of Mr. Stephenson with some workmen laying out ironwork for the new vessel.

  “Good day, Mr. Worthington.”

  “And a very good day to you, Mr. Stephenson.” He felt not the slightest grievance for the omission of his naval rank—it was entirely otherwise. They accepted him here as an engineer and not a mere product of the Royal Navy’s Black Gangs.

  “What can I do for you?” Stephenson asked, glancing up from his task.

  “Nothing that merits delay to your own work, Sir. Please continue. I see you are at a particular juncture, and we can speak o’ my errand once these frames are set. May I assist?”

  “If you will. I intend to build the two halves of the ship as if one piece, even though it will be taken apart again before launching. That way we will be certain of a good fit between the two halves of hull later.”

  “Very good thinking, Sir. So the bulkhead here will be of two walls of thinner plates bolted together?”

  “Yes, until the final connection at the Grangemouth end of the canal, when they will be riveted.”

  They worked at setting the first iron of the redesigned bulkhead for half an hour before they might take a breather. While two of the younger workmen compared the measurements to the plan Mr. Stephenson carried, they stood back to watch. He felt honoured to be helping with the work, since it was the result of his own suggestion to Miss Stephenson in the bowels of Spiteful that day in the Irish Sea. Their measurements and alignments seemed satisfactory, as they well needed to be . . . no one had attempted to build a ship in two halves before, and so the whole exercise was carried out by a combination of experiment and practical experience—not at all unusual in these early days of iron shipbuilding.

  “What did you want to see me about, Mr. Worthington?

  “I hope to be ready for the new Spiteful trials this comin’ weekend, Sir, but do not expect to see naval ratings here before then. May I ask for the ship’s whole Stephenson crew to remain assigned . . . until such time as I can begin trainin’ my Naval people? The Admiralty will pay, of course.”

  Stephenson smiled at him. “You have a warrant for that, Sir?”

  “Not to hand, I confess, but I were given to understand in my orders that all such h’extempore arrangements and costs are approved while this urgency exists. I would hope to see your officers and crew aboard not only for the trial, but also for the voyage to Chatham.”

  “The contract documents Roberta received say that essential people from th
e yard will be required at Chatham until Naval personnel are adequately trained to take over from them. These costs are to be included in the contract as well. I see no problem in our providing everything needed to complete the Spiteful for commissioning pursuant to that time. We will accept your judgement of Admiralty requirements.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” He lowered his voice. “I have another concern, too . . . if we may move away from the others a moment.”

  Stephenson seemed surprised at the request but walked with him to the edge of the slip. “What did you want to say?”

  Worthington felt his face heat up but there was little he could do about that. “I am not sure how to express this, Sir . . . it may seem none of my business . . . it may seem superfluous to such considerations you have already entertained as father . . . in fact . . . it may also be too late for me to express my feelin’s of concern for your daughter’s wellbein’ an’ safety . . .”

  “Yes,” Mr. Stephenson said slowly. “Continue.”

  “I am not party to any details of this further shipbuildin’ assignment . . . but it seems as if His Lordship wants a trained nautical engineer to take part in the spyin’ . . . it seems to me that he have designs toward makin’ Miss Stephenson that person . . . . I must express my concern that such an activity would not be appropriate . . . nor even safe for her. The incident in the train on our way to London from Dover leads me to suppose he have a very cavalier regard for dangers . . . to himself and even . . . to others . . . I must be rude. I know it rude . . . but I must ask you what he have said to you.”

  There, he had said it. He knew he had no right to ask Mr. Stephenson for permission to ask for her hand. He was only a poor naval officer and she had the makings of becoming a rich lady . . . but he could not stand by and watch His Lordship entertain designs upon her that might be to the detriment of her reputation and future.

  “My dear chap, I must admit to surprise at the intensity of your concern for my daughter’s wellbeing, but have to admit my gratitude for it. I too have been at pains to observe His Lordship’s intentions and have spoken directly to him about them. My daughter has expressed her own suspicions, but it seems all too likely that she will be out of my reach when any further actions might be taken toward having her participate in this spying.”