A War by Diplomacy Read online

  “Daphne, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  “Of course, I’m alright. The orlop is perfectly safe, if a bit dark and scary.”

  “But you are covered in blood, your clothes are disheveled, your hair is out of place and you are reeking of rum.”

  “I am. You know that the orlop is where the surgeon has to try to treat all the men with wounds. There was a terribly large number of them.”

  “I know, but weren’t you safely out of the way?”

  “I suppose I was, at first, but Dr. Maclean and his assistants had more than they could handle, so I tried to help out.”

  “You did what?”

  “I helped out. Swabbing wounds and helping to remove splinters and cleaning out areas of the victims where Dr. Maclean was trying to operate or to sew up wounds. He said that pouring rum on the wounds made them less likely to fester – and pouring it into the victims made their wounds hurt less. Some of it splashed onto me.”

  “Hamish,” Giles spoke to one of the ship’s boys. “Get a basin and some water and a cloth for Lady Giles. And pass the word that Betsy, her maid, is wanted on the quarterdeck. Where is, Betsy, anyway?”

  “She fainted when the first of the injured was brought into our space and she continued to feel very wobbly even after she had recovered consciousness. She may be still in the orlop. It would be a good idea, Richard, to bring her on deck.”

  “Hamish, just bring the water. Tell one of the seamen that Lady Giles’s maid needs to be brought on deck from the orlop.”

  At that point, Midshipman Stewart appeared. “Sir, the captain’s cabin has been restored. It suffered no damage from the enemy.”

  “Very good. Please accompany Lady Giles to the cabin and get Ferguson to arrange for water so that she can clean herself. Tell him to make tea as soon as the stove is lit and water can be heated.”

  A large number of seamen was working on the main deck as Daphne and Mister Stewart approached the companionway. Word had already spread about Daphne’s role in the orlop. One of the men cried out, “Three cheers for Lady Giles.” From the enthusiastic response by everyone present one would never have guessed that they were suffering from the exhaustion that followed hard work and being in action. Daphne, who had seemed quite unperturbable when describing her role in the sick bay, blushed a deep crimson and did not seem to know where to look before she rallied to wave and smile at the cheering men.

  Giles turned to examine the deck to discovver what his next task should be. Carstairs was approaching holding a stout-looking canvas bag.

  “Did you find anyone, Carstairs?”

  “Aye, sir. Three frogs, sir. They are being looked at by Dr. Maclean. And we found this bag. It was in the sails that had been alongside the Frenchie.”

  “Give it to me.”

  The bag had been loaded with papers and an iron cannon ball – a nine pounder – to make it sink. It must have been thrown overboard from the French ship when capture became inevitable, but became entangled in the rigging that was dragging over the side as a result of damage. Before opening the bag, Giles looked toward the captured frigate. A boat was approaching Glaucus with what must be the French officers on board.

  “Get this out of sight before the Frenchmen appear on the quarterdeck,” Giles instructed Carstairs, giving him back the bag. “I don’t want them to know that we found it.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Three captured French officers were coming through the entry port.

  “What have we here, Mr. Hendricks?”

  “The French ship’s officers, sir. Three lieutenants. They have all given their parole. Incidentally, the ship is called Le Jour de Triomphe.”

  “Where is the captain?”

  “He is dead, sir. That may be why they were so slow to strike*.”

  “Maybe. And what is the state of the … what did you call her?”

  “Le Jour de Triomphe, sir. It means the day of triumph. She carried no spars that could be used for the mizzenmast, sir. The carpenter and the bosun are hopeful that they can fish the mizzen topmast to the stump of the mizzen and raise a driver* on it. There will be no mizzen square sails if she is rigged that way. It will take a couple of hours. There is a lot of damage to the woodwork and the standing rigging*, but nothing that stops her getting underway soon. None of our balls hit her near the water line. The carpenter says he can patch the holes quickly, though she may leak a bit. I guess that the ship will be ready to get under way in about two hours.”

  “And the crew?”

  “We counted twenty-seven corpses, sir, but there may be more who were thrown overboard. Forty more wounded. I wonder if Dr. Maclean might be able to go across to help their surgeon who, by the way, is drunk. The rest of the French crew and the petty officers are confined to the hold.”

  “Very good, Mr. Hendricks. Return to Le Jour with Dr. Maclean when he is through here and come back when he is finished. Ask Mr. Miller to select a crew to take her into Chatham with us. Oh, and Mr. Miller should have a master’s mate to help him and to act as an officer. Ask Mr. Brooks to arrange that. Also, take Mr. Fisher to go with Mr. Miller. The experience of having more responsibility will be good for him.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Now let’s see to these officers. Introduce them to me, please, before you go. Do any of them speak English?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then, let’s see to them. Come along and tell them who I am and that they are welcome on board. Oh, you should send their sea chests over when you can.”

  “Aye, aye, sir”

  The introductions were completed quickly, and the three French Lieutenants, whose strange names Giles forgot as soon as he heard them, were sent to the wardroom with Mr. Fisher to get cleaned up and given some refreshment.

  “Now, Carstairs, what have you done with that bag?”

  “It’s in your cabin, sir. I handed it to Lady Giles directly, since Betsy is not really recovered from seeing the wounded in the orlop.”

  Giles felt able to leave the deck at that point since everything requiring his immediate attention had been dealt with. Glaucus had only minor repairs to complete and could get under way at any moment. The prize was in good hands. He had decided to have Glaucus accompany her into port so that there would be no danger of having to leave his prize crew behind.

  As he started down the companionway, Giles felt a sharp tinge of guilt. He should not have put Daphne in harm’s way by inviting her to cruise in the English Channel. There had indeed been a risk of combat, even though not a great one, and the outcome of a serious fight was never foreordained. He had put her and their unborn child at unacceptable hazard. However, the guilt was partly allayed by recalling Daphne, appearing like an evil ghost from the orlop, cheerful and steady as always, and then responding with embarrassment to the salute of his crew. He would wager, if anyone on board had tried to predict what would happen if they came to battle, that it would be the lady who would faint away and the servant who would be a pillar of strength, but that would just show that they did not know Daphne.

  Chapter IX

  Giles was still worried about the effect the battle might have had on Daphne. Often the aftermath of a battle, when there was nothing of urgent importance to prevent one from reflecting on the horrors that had been observed, was much more difficult to deal with than the battle itself. He feared for Daphne’s reaction, especially as she had certainly not been expecting to go in harm’s way on this trip with her husband and particularly not when she was with child. He need not have worried.

  “Oh, Richard. I am so glad you are all right. I was so frightened for you while the fight was going on,” Daphne greeted him.

  “I’m sorry, Daphne. I should never have asked you to accompany me on this little voyage. I didn’t think there would be any danger to you.”

  “I wasn’t really in any danger. And I am glad to see what being in a ship in battle is really like, at least in terms of what happens to the unlucky member
s of the crew. I knew that it must happen, of course, but somehow I never really thought of what it must be like to be amongst men who had suddenly been wounded or had their shipmates killed. I know you have to fight; but, oh, how I long for peace now!”

  Daphne started to cry, and Giles took her into his arms. After several moments, where her thoughts were elsewhere, Daphne pulled back enough to say, “Did you know that Carstairs delivered a bag to the cabin which he said was important?

  “Yes, I told him to bring it here. I in for a moment.”

  Giles opened the bag. It contained a nine-pounder ball, several bound books and another small book that looked like a notebook or sketchbook. Giles opened the first book. It was, of course, in French. Even with his very limited knowledge of French, however, he could make out that it was the ship’s log*. He showed it to Daphne who confirmed that it was indeed the ship’s log. The other books turned out to be the captain’s log and what, with Daphne’s aid in translation, seemed to be the master’s log. The booklet contained rather clumsy sketches that might represent military installations and a lot of writing in a rather poor hand. Daphne struggled more in making out the handwriting than in translating the words.

  “They seem to be reports written after night explorations on the English shore. It mentions several towers with sketches and other places where the writer suspects there are fortifications,” she said before putting the booklet aside.

  “These may be more informative,” Giles said, holding up a folded set of papers. “They seem to be the ship captain’s commission and orders. “See if you can make anything of them.”

  Again, the two heads bobbed over the papers. Daphne could make out the content of the first paper even though it seemed to have a rather formal, elaborate, and old fashioned composition. Giles remarked that it was very similar to the language employed in his own commissions. On translation, the document simply ordered the captain to take command of Le Jour de Triomphe and to carry out the orders he had been given previously.

  The second document was more interesting and caused Giles some concern. It consisted of the orders given to the captain about what to do with his ship. It contained a number of distinct parts.

  First, the ship was to approach Pevensey Bay well after dark. It was to approach, as close as the captain dared, to the western part of the beach and wait for a specified signal to be flashed from the shore. He was then ordered to land an agent, a Monsieur l’Eveque, who would meet with French sympathizers who would conduct him inland.

  Second, following the successful landing of the agent, or else after waiting for one hour with no signal, the captain was to land a party to explore as much of the beach as they could during the night, recording as much as they could make out of the location and nature of the shore defenses. They were to avoid, at all costs, being observed by soldiers ashore. If they were challenged they should pretend to be smugglers, but under their smuggler disguises, they were to wear uniforms so that they might escape execution as spies.

  Third, Le Jour de Triomphe was ordered to be well off shore by dawn, and on a tack that would make it appear that she was beating up or down the English Channel, whichever direction was appropriate for the wind. When she was out of sight of the British, she was to go to Cherbourg.

  Fourth, three weeks after the landing the agent, Le Jour de Triomphe was to return to Pevensey Bay to pick up Monsieur l’Eveque. Rather surprisingly, the orders contained both the location where the rendezvous would occur and the signal codes to be exchanged to verify that it was not a trap.

  Giles was surprised that the information about how to reconnect with the agent was part of the orders, until he realized that the orders also said that he should rehearse the codes with M. l’Eveque before he was taken ashore.

  Giles could not hide his excitement. “This is a real windfall, Daphne! We now know that the French have landed an agent and when and where he is to be picked up. Our side should be able to trap him. And maybe capture another frigate if they send one to replace Le Jour. We’ll have to make sure that our finding this information does not become common knowledge. I had better see Carstairs at once.

  “Sentry, pass the word for Carstairs,” he called in a much louder voice.

  Carstairs appeared almost immediately.

  “Carstairs, who knows about the bag you found?” Giles asked his Coxswain.

  “The boat’s crew, sir.”

  “Any of the French prisoners?”

  “No sir.”

  “Tell everyone who knows about your finding not to spread the word, especially make sure that the crew of the barge do not gossip.”

  “Is that wise sir? I don’t know how many other people may have been told by the crew of your barge, or how much farther that information may have spread. If you emphasize its importance by ordering that it not be talked about, it is much more likely that the news will spread since it will be thought to be important. Otherwise, it is not likely to go beyond this ship.”

  “What about asking the ship’s crew not to talk to others about how we happened to take the frigate. If we tell them it is about trying to keep the French from finding out what happened, would that make sure that people hold their tongue when we are in Chatham?”

  “Probably, sir.”

  “Very well, Carstairs. Pass the word and include any other ships we happen to visit. Say that I don’t want to announce it because the French prisoners might hear about it.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. The idea that they are part of a plot to fool the French is likely to keep everyone mum.”

  “This complicates matters, Daphne,” Giles said when Carstairs had left.

  “Why, dear?”

  “I have to report this immediately and I also have to pick up Sir Walcott as soon as he gets to Chatham. But I don’t want to report what we have found to the port admiral at Chatham.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t really trust the port admiral’s wisdom in these things. Port admirals are better than yellow admirals* usually, but they have been awarded an office that is purely administrative and has nothing to do with actual fighting or strategy. They are just one step up from yellow admirals.”

  “What are yellow admirals?”

  “They are former captains who have risen to the top of the captains’ list, so they are next in line to be admirals, but the Admiralty doesn’t believe that they should have a command. In theory, it is one way to prevent totally unsuitable men from becoming admirals. Often, though, it does mean that good men are promoted only to let someone with influence, rather than exceptional merit, get promoted ahead of time.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I am tempted to see Admiral Gardiner of the North Sea Fleet. He is usually on station east of the Godwin Sands and he has experience and understanding in this sort of situation.”

  “Then do it. Sir Walcott can wait. One more day isn’t going to affect his mission. After all, he has imposed both inconvenience and delay on you by not showing up at Portsmouth. Furthermore, I have heard so much about the Admiral from your letters that I would like to meet him. I promise not to tell him the derogatory remarks you have made about him in your letters.”

  “You better not! My career would be cut short, I am sure. But you are right. It is what I should do.”

  “Well with that settled, we can probably have dinner. I imagine you will be hosting the French officers.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it. I just presumed that they would eat in the wardroom.”

  “I think it would be a good idea for you to have them dine with us and with your own officers. After all, with one lieutenant on Le Jour and another one on watch*, there might not be many people to entertain them in the wardroom, especially as your best French speaker is on Le Jour. It would also be very good for you.”

  “How did you reach that conclusion?”

  “You need experience in hearing French. Even with a little of my help, you may understand conversations bett
er when you reach Russia if you hear it spoken now, especially as I can do some translating. I will engage the lieutenants in French if they do not speak English. They have showed no knowledge of the language so far, I believe. They communicated with young Mr. Fisher, your midshipman, who is the only one of you who talks anything like decent French.”

  “I’ll try. But don’t expect me to participate.”

  “Say a few words, if you can. But remember what I said about the advantage of understanding what other people say when they believe that you don’t speak their language.”

  Glaucus’s officers who were free, namely Mr. Correll and Midshipman Dunsmuir, together with Mr. Brooks, Mr. Macauley, and Dr. Maclean, arrived before the French captives were shown in by Mr. Fisher who had been told to look after them. He introduced them around the room and then explained to the French officers that he would have to be on deck. Before he left, Daphne took him aside, to verify what he had learned about their guests. While she was so occupied, Giles overheard one of the French officers ask another one – he still couldn’t remember their names – something about a sack. The other one replied with something that included ‘jeter’ and ‘sac’. The first one said ‘bon’ and seemed to be relieved at the answer. Giles suspected that he had just heard one officer reassure the other that the captain’s critical documents had been thrown overboard before their ship was captured. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he thought it possible that, when the French officers were landed as prisoners who had given their paroles, they might well be approached by French agents. If there were confirmation that the reason for the French ship’s being in Pavensey Bay should remain unknown to their captors as well as the subsequent rendezvous, the French might well not alter their plans and the chances of capturing the spies as well any ship sent to replace Le Jour de Triumph at the pick-up would be enhanced. It confirmed to him the wisdom of trying to turn the documents over to Admiral Gardner.