Tall Orders (The Duty and Destiny Series Book 10) Read online

  Book Ten: 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 are 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.

  Tall Orders

  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

  Tall Orders: It will take all of Frederick’s fighting and diplomatic skills to avert disaster when he takes command of a heavily gunned squadron of ships which is to voyage to the dangerous waters off the Iberian Peninsula. His orders are to attack French ships whenever the opportunity arises, and at the same time to try to ascertain exactly whose side, if any, the antagonistic Spanish are on!

  Best read in series order

  Author’s Note: I have written and punctuated Tall Orders 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, punctuation and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

  Book Ten: The Duty

  and Destiny Series

  Chapter One

  “Eighty-four days! Twelve weeks of crawling north from the River Plate! The world could have ended, Armageddon come and gone and us to have known nothing of it, isolated in our ships on the unending ocean! We have seen nothing, heard nothing, know nothing."

  Sir Iain listened politely, said nothing; commodores had the right to rant, their flag-captains must listen.

  “We must raise the Rock tomorrow, Sir Iain, and may at least discover some news of the war, and be given our orders, unless we have been absent so long they have forgotten us. I wonder if Thomas Grenville will have given us a plum, or if we are to go plodding off on some vile blockade. If the slave trade has been forbidden, as seemed probable, then we might well be sent to enjoy the company of Yellow Jack and his messmates in the Bight of Benin, making our berth that well-known naval base, Cape Coast Castle.”

  “I did not know there was a naval harbour there, Sir Frederick.”

  “Neither did I, Sir Iain!”

  The squadron entered the harbour of Gibraltar, worn by their long voyage from the Rio de la Plata; they made their salutes and took the berths assigned them, Winchester and Fair Isle tying up at the mole, Pincher and Asp coming to anchor a cable offshore, the prizes under their lee, as was proper.

  “No shore leave as yet, Sir Iain, until I have spoken the Admiral Commanding. Do you notice the absence of the navy, Sir Iain? Our initial orders made mention of other vessels to join the squadron, but I see little to interest us here.”

  The harbour was remarkably empty, as if any ships assigned to the squadron had waited so long that they had been sent off elsewhere.

  “Officer making his way towards us, sir. Lieutenant, well-dressed in broadcloth, sir. Far too smart to be a sea-going gentleman. Admiral’s staff, sir.”

  A plump youth trotted up the brow and saluted the quarterdeck very properly and then raised his hat fully off his head to Frederick. A courteous young man.

  “Sir Frederick Harris?”

  The lieutenant stood to attention in front of Frederick and begged to say that he had been sent to offer the admiral’s welcome and to escort Frederick to him. The appropriate port officials would follow him to arrange for water, wood and rations, all of which must be expected to be short aboard so hard-worked a squadron.

  “Have you news of General Whitelocke, Sir Frederick? Or of the remainder of the expeditionary force?”

  “None, sir. When we left Montevideo, all was well with them. Have you heard otherwise?”

  It transpired that a despatch runner had docked at Gibraltar on her way to London just a few days before. Her news had been of defeat and surrenders, of General Beresford and Colonel Craufurd and the men of the 95th taken prisoner at Buenos Aires and of the whole force dismissed from the Plate.

  Frederick was suitably shocked, and privately delighted that he had been well distant from the disaster and could bear no responsibility for any part of it.

  Admiral Ball greeted Frederick very kindly; news of his latest victory had preceded him on the despatch runner, and his doings in the Indian Ocean were already public knowledge and as a consequence he was in good odour, the more so because of the defeats experienced by others in the field.

  “Lord Mulgrave has sent orders superseding those that may have reached you in South America, Sir Frederick.”

  “Lord Mulgrave?”

  “The First Lord, Sir Frederick, newly made since the Ministry of All the Talents failed. The Duke of Portland is Prime Minister now.”

  “My word! Times have changed, have they not, sir!”

  “They have indeed, Sir Frederick; I believe that His Grace of Portland is by way of being a cousin of Viscount Alton, is he not? There is, I am given to understand, some sort of kinship with the family of Harris.”

  Frederick had a recollection of such a relationship, distant and involving the marriage of a sister of one of his grandparents, but not so tenuous as to be non-existent in the small world of the aristocracy; he smiled beatifically, begged that he might be informed of his new orders.

  “They have arrived in the last days, Sir Frederick, consequent on the remarkable success achieved at Copenhagen.”

  Frederick knew nothing of the expedition to Denmark, of the burning of the city of Copenhagen and the theft of the whole Danish fleet.

  “What, all of it, Admiral Ball?”

  “Twenty of the Third Rate, Sir Frederick, ten Fifth Rates and as many Sixth, and a mass of unrated besides! New and almost so, and all in the best of repair!”

  “Manna! The navy is saved, I believe, sir!”

  “Certainly, Sir Frederick, the worst of the coffin ships now at sea may be retired, and I understand your Winchester and Fair Isle are to go to the breakers while you are to transfer into Danish vessels. You are to take your squadron to Chatham, Sir Frederick, your prizes to accompany you as far as Portsmouth where they are to go to the court. That is a massive great frigate, Sir Frederick! How does she sail?”

  “Sweetly, sir. Speedy and weatherly, and very heavily gunned. Forty-four of twenty-four pound long guns, sir, the Spanish equivalent at the moment, of course, and she will ship four, possibly six of heavy carronades besides. Every frigate captain in the country will be clamouring for
her!”

  “And not less than another fifteen thousand pounds into the prize fund, sir! I envy you! Word is that the war with Spain is close to an end, by the bye! Intelligence insists that the French are marching on Portugal, through Spain, and that the country as a whole is on the verge of rising against the French and against their own aristocracy. There is a most untidy business with the Spanish crown – it would seem to be in the hands of one of Bonaparte’s brothers, or perhaps not. Of a certainty is that the Spanish people are displeased with their own rulers, and with all foreigners of any shape, size and description. The supposed siege of Gibraltar is now a matter of form only, to the extent that foodstuffs are being brought in openly overland.”

  Frederick was struck by a memory and enquired whether oranges could be bought again.

  “They can, Sir Frederick. I shall have a consignment sent to your ships – your people will welcome them!”

  “They will indeed, sir. Water and wood is an essential, sir, but we have rations for another two months. I doubt it would make good sense to take a quantity aboard from your stores here, only to return them to Chatham to be sent in effect back to Gibraltar.”

  “Good point! I wholly concur. No doubt arrangements can be made between your pursers and masters and the people ashore here. Best we should know nothing of that, I suspect!”

  “I agree, sir. Sailing within two days, if possible. It is late in the year already and I would wish to cross the Bay of Biscay before the winter gales set in at their worst. Winchester is not the ship I would choose for stormy seas, sir. I wish to get her to the breaker’s yard rather than have her sink underneath me first!”

  Admiral Ball shook his head, had the grace to look uncomfortable.

  “Yes, indeed, Sir Frederick, but that leads me to another, not insignificant little matter. It seems not impossible that there is an intention on the French part to land a force from the sea, to close the port of Lisbon. There is no blockade in place – how can there be, Portugal is not an enemy – and consequently there is no British squadron to hand. The Portuguese royal family and government and treasury, and the great bulk of the aristocracy, are in Lisbon at the moment, dithering, debating whether to flee to Brazil, and the French, unsurprisingly, would rather like to prevent them so doing. A brigade of infantry to protect a battery of heavy guns and the port is closed for three or four days while the Portuguese army girds its loins and reluctantly prepares to set about them…”

  “The meanwhile, sir, the French army marches overland, I presume?”

  “Just so, Sir Frederick. Only a few hours ago, I was wringing my hands, quite unable to discover a means of preventing disaster. Then, to my delight, you came sailing over the horizon!”

  “The French must surely escort their landing force, sir.”

  “They cannot, Sir Frederick, being very much disorganised along the Atlantic coast as a result of the late actions against them. The word that has been whispered to me from London is that they have demanded ships of the Spanish fleet, from Ferrol, in all probabilities; Ferrol being a major naval port. There will be some sort of Spanish presence, that seems certain, but it may well be far less than enthusiastic. You must expect to see one or more of their three-deckers, Sir Frederick, and other ships as well, but it is quite possible that they will not seek action.”

  “But what if I force action upon them, sir? Will they fight then?”

  “Do you know, Sir Frederick, that is a very good question. Unfortunately, it is quite unanswerable. Strictly speaking, of course, you do not come under my command; you have the right to refuse my order…”

  Frederick could decline to involve himself, without fear of court-martial; the admiral was making a request of him, no more. He would never sail again if he refused, and would find all doors closed to him in London. He would become a country squire, and the children would be tarred with his brush as well; ‘just the least little bit shy, my dear, when it came to a sticking point’.

  “I really must not subject my squadron to winter in Biscay, sir. How many weeks do you expect this immediate crisis to last?”

  “There will be a squadron from the blockading fleet present inside ten days, Sir Frederick, but the French will be off Lisbon in five or six if they are coming at all by sea.”

  “It can be done, even with my slugs, sir, even though I doubt I can offer six knots except with the kindest of winds – Winchester and Fair Isle should simply not be at sea, sir. Five to ten miles offshore, except, of course, off Lisbon itself where there are those damned reefs to watch for, and if there is nothing to be seen, then a crawl up the coast into the Bay to the neighbourhood of Ferrol itself. Is there a blockading squadron off Ferrol, sir?”

  “There is, Sir Frederick, but no more than a pair of frigates, I suspect – one to shadow any Spanish fleet that sails while the other runs north to call the alarm. There is no expectation of any great activity from Ferrol.”

  “I shall sail as soon as we have our water up, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sir Frederick! I was sure that you would – your name is not that of a man who would refuse action, sir!”

  Frederick made his way back to Winchester, reflecting that a reputation was all very well, but it could be the death of him yet. He gave Sir Iain the glad news, left him very thoughtful.

  The purser was also very glad on hearing that he might draw upon Gibraltar for beef and biscuit, to his needs, and even happier to discover that the ship was to be not so much paid off as abandoned at Chatham, with some part of her stores to be transferred to a newly commissioned vessel while the rest was returned to the dockyard there. He very nearly quivered with joy as Frederick offered him carte blanche, just as long as he presented the commodore with a fully effective flagship and squadron when next they sailed.

  “Do you think that we should have almost openly offered the blind eye, Sir Frederick?”

  “While we do not say the actual words, yes, Sir Iain. The purser, master and boatswain between them will fill their purses with gold, and their immediate juniors will see silver, I doubt not. The men will discover that they are to sail in a very well-found ship in which tobacco may even be issued at seventeen ounces to the pound rather than the normal fifteen, and that will make them happy too. There will be something for every man aboard – and there will need be, for there will be no shore-leave in Chatham, not the least chance of desertion, and we shall sail again without them setting foot on dry land, or laying hands on a doxy for that matter.”

  “After a very long cruise, Sir Frederick.”

  “Long and tedious – but men are so short that I dare not lose them.”

  “One can lay offshore and permit ‘wives’ to come aboard, Sir Frederick…”

  “Not an expedient I care for, but the alternative of near mutiny is also unpleasant. Is the surgeon well-stocked, do you know?”

  “He must be high on mercurials, the men not having been ashore since Bombay. He will have had no call for the specifics for many a month.”

  “Then there is little choice. You are right, Sir Iain, I cannot deny the men their relaxations, not in all fairness to them. I wish I could, for the sake of their health – but I am not to nanny and nursemaid them!”

  Sir Iain gravely agreed – they were free-born Englishmen, not slaves, and had the right to catch the pox if that was their choice.

  “I shall pass the word that we are to dock at Chatham. Most of the men think that we are to enter the Mediterranean. They will be glad to hear of a home port. Those who think about such matters will not be displeased that Winchester is to be sent to the breakers – I have heard the words ‘coffin ship’ in the dark hours.”

  It was not uncommon for the men to talk loudly to each other when they could not be identified at night; it allowed them to make their opinions known in a harmless, non-mutinous way and was to an extent encouraged in those ships where the captain actually wished to know what the crew felt.

  “Not an unreasonable description, you know, Sir Iain. Let u
s trust that we shall not prove the men right over the next few days.”

  They sailed into half a gale, Winchester leaning over and creaking her arthritic way up to eight knots, the fastest sailing of the whole voyage. The men forgot about the very concept of sleep, making and letting out their reefs almost every hour; Frederick informed his officers of the ‘little job’ they had been asked to do, and the men overheard, as was intended, and rather fancied more of prize-money, having no doubt that Fearless Fred would look after them as always.

  “A brigade of Frogs, and a battery of big guns, makes the better part of six thousand men, what is no little amount when it comes to head money. Then there is their transports, what has got to be twenty of big merchantmen, or maybe eight of line-of-battle ships en flute. And their rations and warlike supplies. Bloody near as good as a treasure-ship!”

  Kavanagh made his calculations in company of the senior petty officers, by request of Sir Iain, inasmuch that Frederick could not rightly ask him to do such a thing. The word spread that there was a Golconda, a positive hoard of gold and jewels for all, waiting just across the horizon.

  There was nothing to be seen off Lisbon, apart from an officious sloop under Portuguese colours which crossed Winchester’s bows and shouted that the port was closed to all warships as a temporary measure.

  Any neutral government had the right to forbid entry to the ships of warring nations, provided they did not play favourites. The Portuguese were assured that the squadron had no intention of seeking entry; they were homeward bound from far south. The implication of ignorance of Portuguese and Spanish affairs was not lost. It was by no means unlikely that there were pro-French elements in the Portuguese government who would pass along information to the invading forces, if they existed; there was no need to alert them to British intentions in the area.

  Fair Isle was sent ahead of the squadron, remaining in signalling distance and in sight of the coast.