A Busy Season (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 8) Read online

  Book Eight: The Duty

  and Destiny Series

  From the author of the acclaimed,

  ‘A Poor Man at the Gate’ Series

  Andrew Wareham

  Digital edition published in 2016 by

  The Electronic Book Company

  A New York Times Best-seller

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  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

  A Busy Season

  Copyright © 2016 by Andrew Wareham

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents:

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  By the Same Author

  Introduction

  A Busy Season: After a ‘diplomatic’ mission to Morocco from his temporary home port of Gibraltar, Frederick is predominantly tasked with patrolling the Mediterranean seeking French and Spanish prizes. He’s sent out to intercept an enemy supply convoy – but a deadly trap awaits. Later he’s dispatched on a daring raid to Ceuta in an attempt to rescue an imprisoned relative of the Moroccan Emperor.

  Author’s Note: I have written and punctuated A Busy Season in a style reflecting English usage in novels of the Georgian period, when typically, sentences were much longer than they are in modern English. Editor’s Note: Andrew’s book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

  Book Eight: The Duty

  and Destiny Series

  Chapter One

  Four slow, swearing days of fortunately moderate winds brought Euripides into Gibraltar, limping to a berth at the dockyard. A storm-damaged storeship was hastily towed clear as the telescopes assessed Euripides' condition; skilled shipwrights shook their heads and walked across to stand, hands behind their backs, slowly condemning the carelessness of those who took their ships to sea.

  The Captain of the Dockyard hurried down to make a first inspection, disapproval writ large on his thin features. He had a schoolmasterish face, Frederick thought, an expression of sneering superiority modified by dyspepsia.

  "A new foremast, Sir Frederick! I do not see the old towing behind, sir?"

  "You do not, I am afraid, Captain Epworth. Lost in night action with Spanish line-of-battle ships. Three of them and ourselves able to escape by the skin of our teeth. There was time barely to cut the mast loose; topmast went too, sir. Ah... topgallant pole as well."

  "Indeed, Sir Frederick! Yet I believe I saw a prize of yours to tie up yesterday, sir."

  "Taken next day as we made our southing, Captain Epworth. Falling fortuitously under our guns, you will appreciate. I fear me I must beg a wholly new mast of you, and the Master Intendant of the Artillery Park will wish to examine our carronades and chasers, sir. I rather suspect that their carriages may have taken damage from the mast falling onto them."

  Captain Epworth shook his head gloomily - the spendthrift nature of his peers never failed to distress him. Not content to throw a mast away, the man must also wantonly destroy his guns!

  "Long brass twelves, I see, Sir Frederick. And sixty-four pound carronades, no less! I am sure we have none such in our arsenal, sir. Indeed, I know we have not, sir, for the standard now is of sixty-eight pounds! Yours are old issue, sir, and may be written off, for they should not have been aboard, sir! What of the hull, Sir Frederick?"

  "Little damaged and well-patched by my Carpenter, sir. You may find yourself content with his efforts. He has been able to put four days work into the few shot holes that we took, and his mate is also a very skilled young man; I believe him to have been apprenticed, at Chatham, and then to have taken to the sea in a spirit of adventure. It might not be impossible to persuade the young man to accept a place in the dockyard, was you to have one."

  Frederick knew that the dockyard was almost certainly short of skilled hands - there were far too few - and his young man must soon be in line for a warrant, so he would in any case lose him from Euripides, probably within a few months. A sweetener in the way of a skilled shipwright might well cause Epworth to look more favourably on him.

  "Possibly, Sir Frederick. I shall discover whether there is such a need... We must make a full survey, and then we are to discover a mast for you... No easy task, sir! I doubt we have the exact like floating in the pond!"

  "I will make no such demand upon you, sir - if there is no precise match then something a little taller must be built and the new master will have to work our holds and ballast appropriately. It would obviously be impossible to take a smaller foremast - you know these old sixty-fours, sir, and the difficulties one may experience when making a tack in them!"

  Frederick was fairly much certain that Epworth had not sailed in more than twenty years - he had been told that he had been made in compliment to his captain as a young man, had been wounded in the action and so had been employed ashore and had then been happy to stay on land. The little he knew of seamanship would have been long forgotten. A taller foremast might well be persuaded to take an extra jib or two, and certainly wider yards and an additional cloth in the square sails; it would add little to Euripides’ speed but could make her even more willing to point up. It would also mean that the master and watch keepers would have to be alert to the possibility of over-pressing her; it would not make sailing the ship easier.

  "Yes, of course, Sir Frederick. I seem to remember hearing it said that the sixty-fours as a class were often crank. 'New' master, you say. Is one to assume that your master is gone, sir?"

  "Master, one lieutenant and two of the mids, sir. We were hit hard by the one broadside well placed on the quarter. The last that two-decker will ever fire, I doubt not, for she was running aground even as she loosed it."

  Captain Epworth realised that the enemy must be defeated, but running ships aground seemed terribly wasteful somehow; he was sure that battles could be better managed with a little of care taken.

  The Admiral came down from his offices, most kindly, being aware that Frederick would not wish to leave the ship until the dockyard had accepted her. He sat in the cabin to read the report and shook his head at the casualties.

  "Difficult to find officers in Gib, Sir Frederick, and impossible to lay hands on midshipmen just at the moment. This boy, Iliffe, behaved very well; one would wish to reward him, yet he is young, is he not?"

  "Not too much so, sir. He could be made fourth, and should Euripides be ordered back to England in the next two years then no doubt he could transfer to a ship heading in the opposite direction."

  "Unlawful, and quite possibly unwise, Sir Frederick. I suspect that questions will be asked one day - which might lead us into trouble. This is just the sort of thing that Admiralty clerks watch out for, you know."

  Granting a commiss
ion to an underage youth, and thus committing the King to pay wages to one unentitled to them, was tantamount to a felony. It could be argued that the young gentleman might have been given the responsibilities of a lieutenant but not the substantive rank, thus saving as much as fifty pounds over two years. The resulting court-martial could lead to severe penalties; captains - and admirals - had been broken for such offences.

  "I am sure you are right, sir. Fortunately he has an unusual name, sir. When the letter arrives enquiring about the juvenile lieutenant, then we reply that ‘Mr Liffey’ is unknown to us. That will give us six months and ‘Mr Ilford’ will be good for as long again. When we finally realise who it is, then we reply that he was posted to the good ship Venus two years ago and is now on the China Station. With a little of luck and good management we can spin the whole question out for thirty months, and then we may say in all honesty that Mr Iliffe is of eighteen years and is fully qualified to be a lieutenant."

  "What happens then, Sir Frederick?"

  "Either a court-martial or an Admiralty clerk who finds he has better things to do, sir. If I have trodden on the First Lord's toes lately, then it will be a court; if my uncle Alton is well in with the government of the day then it will all be forgotten. The important thing is to delay, sir, so that it is all a matter of history."

  The admiral surrendered - Gibraltar was just sufficiently far from the Admiralty to encourage an independent trend of mind.

  "I shall write his commission today, Sir Frederick. Whatever his age, we cannot be far wrong when we acknowledge courage and so I shall say if the need arises."

  "So I think, sir. Is my petty officer Monk to hand, sir? I intend to rate him master's mate and need his assistance as soon as may be."

  "He is working with the Provost party for the while. I will order him to you, Sir Frederick. A master as well, that is easily done."

  There were never sufficient places to satisfy the number of ambitious young men struggling up from the lower deck, seeking senior warrants or even commissions as the wars continued. The vacancy on Euripides would trigger a stream of promotions among the smaller ships as the master of an unrated brig or bomb climbed up to a Sixth Rate, whose own man had been translated to a Fifth Rate whose able man had in his turn mounted to the lofty status of a Third Rate on Euripides. It all made a gain in pay of a few pence a day, very welcome to thrifty men saving for their old age, equally so to the boozers and whoremongers living for the moment.

  "I see that Captain Murray is in the list of wounded, Sir Frederick."

  "Severely, sir - left hand and forearm gone. He will never venture outside of his office again, I fear. He behaved very well, sir; knowing the man, that surprises me not at all, I would add."

  "Back to London for him?"

  "Possibly, sir. I suspect he will regain his strength and will wish to remain in his work. He is not a man who will tolerate the idea of being a cripple, sir. He is to share one of my eighths, of course, sir, being a post-captain."

  Admiral Clerke wished he was as rich as Sir Frederick, to casually give away as much as three thousands from his voyage; a post-captain on a special commission had no claim of right to prize-money – it would be a matter of courtesy.

  "Your prize sloop has been surveyed, Sir Frederick, and is to be bought in. She is almost new, which I suspect is why she was in use as a despatch carrier, and she will be a most useful addition to the station, though I can barely find officers for her. Spanish built as well, using better timber than the English yards have access to, and only too often with woodworkers skilled far more than ours. We are beyond belief short of sloops and frigates, sir! The other three, the merchantmen, are all to go to the next sitting of my prize-court, there being no query about their status, no question of neutrality or port of origin and destination. The larger ship that came in yesterday is loaded, by the way, with a villainous tobacco from the Orient, a Turkish smoking shag of the coarsest kind which is well loved by the vulgar peasantry of Spain. I am assured that it will find a ready market in London as well. I suspect that you may add to the famous fogs of London town, Sir Frederick!"

  "The smoking of tobacco is a filthy habit, Admiral; it is worse even than chewing the damned stuff! I would ban it on my lower deck was I not quite certain it would lead to mutiny."

  The Admiral, who rather enjoyed a Spanish cigarillo on occasion, was not convinced but chose to say nothing.

  "No prize money for your action with the three Spaniards at night, I fear, Sir Frederick. Nor a Gazette letter – no names of ships nor certainty of sinkings.”

  "None at all, sir. I could not even prove gun or head money. A confused and messy night action, sir. Not a habit for a wise man to develop - though, as I have often said, sir, was I wise I would not be a sailor. I was lucky, sir, yet again, which is more than can be said for poor Mr Sanchez, the gentleman sent into Barcelona. What of the wider world, sir? Is the monstrous Bonaparte still convinced of the wisdom of invasion?"

  "It remains to be seen, Sir Frederick. He has the Spanish fleet now, may think to use that to take the Channel to himself. There is some worry that he is to threaten Portugal again, one gathers, and he is still about the business of suborning the outlying Pashas and Beys of the Ottoman Empire. As a result we must increase our subsidies to the same men, to outbuy him. I am inclined to suspect that part of his plan is to bring us to our knees by exhausting our supplies of gold."

  "Might he do so, sir?"

  "Not so easily since we took the Spanish flota in the action off St Mary's. There is a steady trickle of gold from the Indian mines as well and the African suppliers of dust are protected by the Empire of Morocco, which is most kindly disposed to us. One could wish we could discover just where this Gold Coast is - a colony in the right place, sir, and a proper organisation of mines would be of the greatest benefit to us."

  Frederick agreed, reflecting that he was quite certain he would have nothing to do with such an enterprise; the Gold Coast must, it was said, be found along the Bight of Benin, the world's worst fever spot.

  "'Beware, beware, the Bight of Benin', sir!"

  "You fear the gold might be very expensively bought, Sir Frederick? You are probably right, sir, but there are always those who will risk their lives for gold, even when they know that the chances of survival are small."

  Frederick nodded; he would have taken many risks when he was younger, but not now, he was becoming tired of living for the day.

  "Captain Epworth is to make a full survey of Euripides, sir, which will take some days, and then she must be remasted. At best a matter of several weeks."

  "No, Sir Frederick! Not long enough to make a return to England necessary or wise. I have a little task that might be ideal for you, sir. I seem to recall reading that you were presented with a huge and showy decoration by the Ottoman not too long since - you will have the opportunity to display it in company where it will be appreciated, sir!"

  The Emperor of Morocco was vastly rich and had little need for English gold – quite the opposite, in fact, he facilitated the flow of precious metal from the southern parts of the Sahara. He did, however, value English cannon and allowed the importation of large quantities of cotton goods, particularly the new prints now coming out of the Lancashire mills; additionally there were lesser items such as glass bottles and needles and pins appearing in trade. More importantly from the Emperor’s point of view, the Spanish and the French had long had colonial ambitions in North Africa and their armies were much feared. The English made a most useful counter-balance, being willing to offer naval support against the Americans as well.

  “Morocco has no yards capable of producing line-of-battle ships, Sir Frederick. As much as anything, there is a lack of straight hardwood trees and no habit of working such timber. The Ottoman produces large ships, but uses the oak growing on the Dalmatian coast and around the Black Sea, and the Empire of Morocco is rarely on terms with Stamboul, can hardly rely on Ottoman aid. Thus the alliance with England makes good sens
e on both parts, for the Empire feeds the Mediterranean fleet. As you know, sir, convoys from Tetuan, and the Atlantic coast as well, bring literally thousands of bullocks and ton after ton of onions and other anti-scorbutic vegetables to the fleet, which could hardly survive without such aid.”

  Frederick had not given much consideration to the part that Morocco played in the wars, but could now see that it was a most useful ally.

  "Why the Americans, by the way, sir?"

  "They are increasingly cross with the corsair pirates, and believe that some voyage from Moroccan harbours."

  "Do they not, sir?"

  "The Empire of Morocco is a most valued ally, Sir Frederick! As such it is quite impossible that nasty pirates might find safe haven in her ports."

  Frederick could not quite determine why it was important that he should understand all of this.

  “The Emperor's government rather likes to be told what an important gentleman he really is, Sir Frederick, and envoys are sent to Morocco at frequent intervals as a result. Their main function is to discuss the state of affairs – which means to listen with great interest as his opinions are passed to them and to congratulate his wisdom. The envoy must always convey the greetings of His Britannic Majesty to his brother monarch; they are two of the world’s great men and must stand shoulder to shoulder against the lesser upstarts of low birth who wish to set themselves in rivalry against them. It is to be emphasised that they are equals, each with a sphere in which he is pre-eminent. You will wish to state how pleased the British are to guard the coasts of Africa while the Moroccan armies hold the land.”

  “I shall?”

  “You shall, Sir Frederick. You have a hereditary title, which is always useful in a diplomat, and possess a great estate. You are a famous seaman, with a name in the Middle Sea. You are known to London Society, and the Moroccans receive reports from Mayfair, sir, as well as from the City. Thus sending you is seen as a politeness, a recognition that only the best are good enough for the Emperor’s court. It is very convenient that you should be available to make a change from the run of the mill diplomatic fellows!”