The Pursuit

by Peter Smalley

  ‘And she is fast, by the look.’ Tapping the dispatch.

  ‘Hm. Well well, Expedient is no laggard, she is a damn fine sea boat. No no, our greatest difficulty will not be keeping station astern, but remaining out of sight.’

  ‘Why d’y’suppose he carries such heavy armament, sir? Eighteen carronades, in a little ship sloop?’

  ‘How should I know, James? Even brigs carry them of late, so I am told.’

  ‘Ay, naval brigs. This is a private ship, a merchant ship.’

  ‘What point d’y’attempt to make, James?’ Pulling charts across the table, and weighting one at the corners with leads.

  ‘A little merchant ship like this could not have good intent upon the high seas, with that number of great guns. Ain’t that so, sir?’

  ‘There is any number of questions we might ask. Why do we pursue the Terces? What is her destination, and purpose? What does her master eat for his dinner?’ Opening a pair of dividers, and turning them in a line across the chart. ‘I go where I am told, James, and do as I am told, and you must do the same. Puzzles, and riddles, and other vexatious enquiry – I leave to others.’

  ‘Very good, sir. Erm . . . since you have given me the duty of Pursuit Officer, am I to have a certain leeway in how I prepare us for the ch— . . . the pursuit?’

  ‘Yes yes, in course y’are to do everything you think necessary, as I have said.’

  ‘Then I will like a good supply of full allowance cartridge filled, and I am minded to double-shot our guns.’

  ‘What on earth for?’ Rennie lifted his head from the chart, and stared at him.

  ‘Let us just call it – instinct.’

  A grim little smile. ‘Well well, that was a word I used, certainly.’ A sniff. ‘Do as you think best. I will not stand in your way.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I will say a word to Mr Storey, with your permission.’

  ‘Yes, very well.’ Again peering at his chart.

  ‘I had meant to ask – what became of young Richard Abey, that was senior mid and master’s mate the last commission? You did not want him again, sir?’

  ‘I looked for his name on the Lieutenants’ List, and could not see it. Mr Abey has clearly not yet passed his board, and so I could not ask for him. I asked for Mr Trembath instead.’

  ‘Could not you have asked for Abey again, simply as senior mid?’

  ‘Eh? Why? The boy should have took and passed his board when we paid off. Clearly, he did not do so, and therefore lacks purpose and ambition.’

  ‘But did not you appoint him your acting third, last time, when Lieutenant Souter was killed? Was not that to show confidence in him, and—’

  ‘Mr Hayter.’ Firmly. ‘Perhaps you have forgot yourself, sir. This is my command, not yours. I think y’have something to say to the gunner. Kindly go to him and say it, if y’please. And from now on you will keep your lookouts sharp.’

  ‘Ay-ay, sir.’ Very correct. James made his back straight and departed the cabin, putting on his hat.

  When he had gone Rennie sighed and tapped the table with his fingers, made a face and bent once more to his charts. A moment, and he lifted his head and asked himself:

  ‘Have I made a mistake in bringing him back?’ And twice tapped the table again.

  Colley Cutton appeared. ‘You called me, sir?’

  ‘Nay, I did not.’

  ‘I fought you was making a signal, sir. Calling and rapping.’

  ‘Well well, I was not. – Where is my cat?’

  ‘Dulcie, sir? Why, she is snug in the fo’c’sle.’

  ‘The fo’c’sle? I do not want her there. She should inhabit my quarters, when I am aboard. Bring her to me.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Only, I fear she may wish to return to the fo’c’sle, where she has become a-ccustomed to the warmf of the Brodie stove, sir.’

  ‘Am I to be contradicted at all points, good God! Find my cat and bring her to me, you idle bugger!’

  ‘As you wish, sir.’ Departing, and closing the door behind him.

  Rennie bent once more, straightened, and threw the dividers down with a clatter.

  To himself: ‘Y’must not start and reprimand so severe. It is a failing, William Rennie, a failing. Look to it, and improve.’

  In the early hours of the following day fog drifted in from the sea across the broad Thames estuary, shrouding and silent, and in the hour before sunrise Terces slipped downstream on the tide and away, while Expedient lay blind. This was so bold a move, so daring a feat of navigation, that Captain Rennie was at first loath to believe it when later it began to dawn on him what must have happened.

  As a precaution he had ordered anchor watches in addition to the regular sea-keeping watches, and at seven bells of the morning watch, as up hammocks was piped, Rennie came up on the newly washed deck with his glass. The fog had scarcely begun to clear, and Rennie was quite at his ease. To the officer of the watch, Lieutenant Tindall:

  ‘No man would risk his ship in this, hey, Mr Tindall?’

  ‘No, sir.’ With a confidence he did not feel.

  ‘All quiet?’ Glancing forrard through the slow swirling mist.

  ‘All quiet, sir. Erm . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ Turning his head.

  The stout, fair young man hesitated, then: ‘I . . . I thought I heard something at two bells, sir, to the north. I made a note in my book, sir, under the binnacle light.’ He showed Rennie the note.

  ‘You heard a muffled cry?’ Peering at him.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘What was it, d’y’think?’

  ‘I cannot be certain. It was very muffled, deep in the fog. I am not even certain it was a human voice. It may have been a bird of some sort. A goose.’

  ‘You heard nothing else, Mr Tindall? No other sounds?’

  ‘Nothing else, sir.’

  ‘Hm. Then likely it was a goose. Very well, thankee, Mr Tindall, y’did right to bring it to my notice. We will keep sharp from now on.’ From behind them:

  ‘Good morning, sir. Good morning, Tindall.’

  ‘Mr Hayter.’ Rennie nodded to James as he joined them.

  Today James was wearing his working rig of old leather jerkin, rough seaman’s pantaloons, and a blue-and-white chequered kerchief tied on his head.

  ‘All you require to complete the disguise is a cutlass gripped ’tween your teeth,’ observed Rennie, not harshly. He was quite used to James’s working sea clothes. Mr Tindall stared in astonishment at the rig, and said nothing.

  James had posted only one lookout – on the fo’c’sle – through the morning watch, given the density of the fog, and this man had already reported to him that he had seen and heard nothing. James was now on deck to observe the condition of the fog, and place lookouts in the tops as soon as it cleared.

  By eight bells it had begun to lift, and as hands were piped to breakfast Rennie went below to his own breakfast, with the instruction that he was to be called at once if anything was seen. In the past it had been usual for him to invite James to breakfast with him, but today he did not. James remained on deck, and at two bells of the forenoon watch, when the fog had lifted and thinned in the morning sun, revealing the broad stretching calm of the estuary, he went aloft, climbing to the main crosstrees. His mainmast lookout came with him, and together they scanned the estuary in an arc of 180 degrees, from the marshes on the Isle of Grain in the west, to the beaches of the Isle of Thanet in the east, and saw nothing but fishing boats – other shipping having been port-bound by the fog. By three bells of the watch James was beginning to be concerned. Merchant ships had begun to venture up and down the estuary, but in the main they were colliers – stout, dirty little vessels – and none remotely resembled the ship Expedient sought. At four bells James stepped off the crosstrees, clapped on to a backstay, slid rapidly to the starboard chains, and went below to the great cabin.

  Rennie was feeding his cat Dulcie.

  ‘The fog has cleared, sir.’

  ‘As I see.’ Putting down t
he dish on the canvas squares, and glancing at the stern gallery window. The cat bumped against his leg, and settled to eat. ‘In course ye’ve seen nothing, else ye’d’ve called me, hey?’

  ‘Nothing, sir.’

  ‘Hm.’ Putting on his coat. ‘I will go on deck with you. It may be that he will run north a little as he makes east, and try to evade us over t’ward Shoeburyness.’

  ‘I doubt that he’d risk the Maplin Sands, sir, but even if he did I have men aloft. He could not escape our attention, no matter how far north he dared to run.’

  They went on deck. At five bells, Rennie looked at his pocket watch just as James slid to the deck from the mizzen crosstrees, where he had gone with his glass.

  ‘Sir, I am very concerned, now.’

  Rennie looked at his Pursuit Officer, frowned, and:

  ‘Could he have given us the slip, after all, Mr Hayter?’

  ‘I think that very likely he has, sir. In darkness and fog.’

  ‘It is nearly beyond belief. How did he manage it, the villain?’ Then:

  ‘By God, Mr Tindall’s goose.’ He had made his own note of the lieutenant’s observation, and now found and confirmed it. ‘Two bells – five o’clock.’

  ‘Goose . . . ?’

  ‘Ay, that Mr Tindall heard in the early morning darkness. An echo across the water, deep in the fog. But it was not a goose, it was a muffled shout of command from that damned ship as she went down on the tide, right under our noses. God damn that wretch Broadman, he has outfoxed us! Mr Trembath!’

  ‘Sir?’ The officer of the watch, attending.

  ‘We will weigh at once, if y’please, and make sail.’ Urgently.

  ‘Ay-ay, sir.’ Touching his hat, shocked at the suddenness of the departure. ‘Mr Tangible! Hands to weigh, and make sail!’

  Mr Loftus ran on deck, cramming on his hat. Pounding feet, curses, men pulling themselves up hand over hand in the shrouds, their feet dancing on the ratlines. The foretopsail falling in a great grey expanding tumble from the yard. Waisters hauling. The bellowing of the fo’c’sle petty officer. Rennie stood at the breast-rail in a fever of urgency, and presently, with a drumming of his fingers:

  ‘Nay, nay, this will not answer. – Mr Tangible!’

  ‘Sir?’ The boatswain.

  ‘We will cut our cables if y’please! Cheerly now! We are in a chase, and there ain’t—’

  ‘– a moment to lose.’ Roman Tangible finished for him, and turned to give the orders at the roaring top of his voice.

  Sea axes thudded in a hacking rhythm, Expedient swung away from her severed cables in the light morning breeze, and caught it, and begun to run before, east-nor’ east toward the open sea, under spreading canvas.

  ‘Stunsails, Mr Loftus! Alow and aloft, if y’please! Let us crack on!’

  Half a glass, and Rennie:

  ‘Mr Loftus, I will like to find that bugger before sunset today, just to make certain he is going where I think he is.’

  ‘And where is that, sir . . . ?’

  ‘Set me a course for Norway, Mr Loftus. Mr Hayter! You there, Mr Madeley.’ To the duty mid nearest him. ‘Find Mr Hayter, and—’

  ‘He – he is aloft, sir.’ Pointing high. Rennie looked, and saw James foreshortened far above in the canvas tower, a tiny figure clinging to the mainroyal mast, his feet braced on the narrow yard, and his glass to his eye.

  The swell and chop of the open sea, and Expedient began to lift and roll as she came round on the new heading, the wind on her larboard beam and quarter.

  ‘Hold her so, just so.’

  And feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, Rennie sniffed in a deep, exhilarated breath.

  *

  The ship – three-masted, painted black – was sighted late in the afternoon, at three bells of the first dog watch. The mainmast lookout hailed the deck and reported the sighting, and added that she was heading east-nor’-east toward the Netherlands, under all plain sail.

  James jumped into the main shrouds and ran aloft with his customary quick agility – first acquired as a midshipman – to the crosstrees, where he joined the lookout and focused his glass, and found the quarry. He peered a few moments, then to the lookout:

  ‘What colours does she wear? Can you make them out?’

  ‘I cannot make them out distinct, no, sir.’ Peering through his own glass.

  ‘Neither can I.’

  James slid by a backstay to the deck, and informed his captain, who:

  ‘Ay, he is a wily fellow, the villain. His colours are false, very like.’

  ‘Well, false colours or not, he certainly makes for the Netherlands coast, on his present heading.’

  ‘Hm. That surprises me.’ A sniff. ‘However, we will follow. We must not overhaul him, though. We must maintain station at a discreet distance astern.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ Lowering his voice: ‘Am I to have the deck, sir?’

  ‘What? Dressed like that? I think not, Mr Hayter.’ Also lowering his voice.

  ‘You wish me to shift into undress coat, sir?’

  ‘Mr Trembath has the deck.’ Pointing to the young lieutenant, who stood at the weather-rail with his glass, looking at the pursuit ship. ‘You will consult with him, if need be.’

  ‘Consult . . . ?’

  ‘Just so.’

  James found this very disconcerting, and vexing. The question of his status in the ship had even now – when they were at sea, and in pursuit – not properly been addressed, and he felt that he was being left to dangle and swing like a loose block in the wind. He opened his mouth to say something further, but at that moment Lieutenant Trembath rejoined them, and a moment after Rennie stepped away aft, and stood alone on the quarterdeck near the tafferel. James knew that in keeping with the tradition of the service he could not follow the captain there, unless he was asked, and so he exchanged a few words with Mr Trembath, and went again aloft to observe the Terces as she continued steady on her course, east-nor’-east toward the Dutch coast.

  ‘Why does she make for the Netherlands?’ To himself, raising then lowering his glass. ‘Denfield Broadman ain’t a Dutch name, and Mappin said nothing about a Hollander connection. He said Norway.’

  It became clear as twilight approached that the ship they were following had altered course a little and was now heading due east, in all probability making for Rotterdam. James studied her carefully through his glass while the light held, and after a time became certain that the ship he was observing could not be the Terces, after all. Her lines were different from the description given in the despatch. She was a long way ahead, but he thought she had more the look of a fluke than a ship sloop. Her bow was bluff, and her stern rounded, without the angular transom of a lighter-built vessel. She looked to be heavy-laden and lying low in the water. James descended once more and went to Rennie in the great cabin, where the captain was writing in his journal.

  ‘That cannot be Terces, sir, I fear.’

  ‘What?’

  James gave his reasons, and Rennie:

  ‘Then why did you identify her as Terces earlier, good heaven?’

  ‘She was a small three-masted square-rigger, painted black, and I thought that given her position it could only be Terces. I was mistook.’

  ‘Have you discussed this with anyone else in the ship?’

  ‘Nay, I have not. I thought it my duty to inform you at—’

  ‘Good, good.’ Over him. ‘Do not do so. I do not want the people discouraged so early in the commission. Nor do I wish the quarterdeck to be seen as a tribe of damned fools. We will continue the pursuit until nightfall, then anchor off the Dutch coast. We cannot risk falling on a lee shore in darkness. With any luck the master of the Dutch ship will slip through the channel on his way in to Rotterdam, and there will be no sign of him in the morning. We will then give it out that we think Terces tried to fox us into believing she made for Rotterdam, and has again headed into the North Sea, making for Norway, and make sail in pursuit.’

  �
��Could not we simply alter course now, sir, and try to find Terces while the—’

  ‘Did not y’hear me, James?’ Brusquely. ‘We will resume the pursuit at first light. Sailing on blind now will not answer.’

  ‘With respect, sir, we have already lost time in following the wrong ship, and—’

  ‘Yes, and whose fault was that? Hey? Yours, sir, yours.’ Again brusquely.

  ‘I admit it. It was my fault. But as Pursuit Officer I think I must indicate that—’

  ‘Indicate, Mr Hayter?’ A glint in his eye. ‘D’y’presume also to contradict?’

  ‘No, sir, in course I do not. However, it is my strong—’

  ‘You do not contradict me,’ over him, ‘and yet you continue to express a contrary view – to indicate?’

  ‘Sir, if I am to conduct myself efficient as Pursuit Officer, I think I must be permitted to—’

  ‘You are made efficient by obeying orders, sir. Pray do so.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ James bowed stiffly, and left the cabin.

  Rennie shook his head, expelled a forceful breath, and walked away from his table to the stern-gallery window. Presently he turned and peered round the cabin:

  ‘Dulcie . . . Dulcie . . . where are you, my dear?’

  His cat did not come to him.

  *

  The open sea, under a hazy early morning sky, the water glittering and dull in turn as each wave of thousands and tens of thousands rose and folded into the next, the waterscape stretching away at all points of the compass to the hazy horizon. Fishing boats, and away to the west, heading north and south in the lifting south-westerly breeze, small merchant ships. Expedient on the larboard tack, sailing four points large with weather stunsails bent, and the weather clew of the main course hauled up.

  Captain Rennie emerged on his quarterdeck, and asked the officer of the watch Lieutenant Leigh – in Expedient the first lieutenant always took his watch – how the ship lay. Lieutenant Hayter was already aloft in the maintop. Lieutenant Leigh gave the captain all the information he required – sails, trim, the direction of the wind and the speed and position of the ship – and called for the duty mids to run out the logship again.