Quarterdeck: A Kydd Sea Adventure Read online

  ‘I have. Truxtun, Nicholson, Barry, of course, and the lieutenants.’ It had taken the personal intervention of the ageing George Washington to settle the question of seniority.

  ‘And the ships.’ Converted merchantmen to begin with, six frigate-class vessels racing to completion: Constitution, Constellation and others.

  ‘And your budget,’ Adams said finally. Congress had voted it through, complaining bitterly at the cost of the new vessels, and the Republicans had fought against it as irrelevant to a continental power with no enemies, but now it was going to happen.

  ‘Ben, be careful, my friend,’ Adams said quietly. Both understood the political risks that were being taken. ‘Well, I won’t keep you.’ He plucked his rose with a sigh, then turned back to Stoddert. ‘One thing interests me. How will you forge a – a way of doing things, a spirit of the sea, if you will?’

  Stoddert pondered. ‘It seems to me we acquire it in the same way as we have our common law. We take what we want from the English and cast away the rest.’ He pursed his lips. ‘After all, it’s the Royal Navy, the first navy of the age.’

  The main sticking point was Gindler. He had begged Kydd not to mention his part, arguing that for him to have taken an active part in operations against a neutral might cause an international incident. But without Gindler’s corroboration his account would not be believed – especially the latter stages, which would have been impossible without an accomplice. He could imagine the polite contempt with which his claim would be met at the wardroom table, seen as a shabby attempt to embellish his experiences. No – he could not risk that.

  There was nothing for it but a bald statement of his treatment ashore, his urging of a town meeting and the final instructions from Hartford. He had reported as much verbally to the captain, who had generally approved his conduct, understanding his encounter with the odd notions of democracy obtaining ashore. It would take a lot to put the captain out of humour with such a prize meekly astern, and no doubt this report would be passed on to the admiral with suitably warm words.

  Kydd was proud of what he had done and chagrined at having to keep it quiet – Renzi had agreed to go over the report for him before he handed it in, but afterwards Kydd had promised him such a tale as would keep him tolerably entertained.

  Halifax had seen ships come and go in wartime, and this occasion was not noticeably different. Tenacious anchored in the bosom of the fleet, salutes were exchanged and Captain Houghton, in sword and decorations, went aboard the flagship to make explanation of his prize – and the consequent accession to the admiral’s own purse.

  By return new fleet instructions were sent to her signal lieutenant, the effective date three days hence.

  Kydd groaned with vexation. Signals and their meanings were a prerogative of the admiral commanding the station and were buried in the Fighting Instructions, detailed prescripts from the admiral for the precise manner in which he wished his ships to engage the enemy. Admiral ‘Black’ Dick Howe, who had brought the fleet mutiny at Spithead to an end the previous year, had done much to standardise operation of flag signals and Kydd saw that these from Admiral Vandeput were similar.

  There were ten signal flags, than the preparative, and the substitute – pennants and wefts, differences of meaning depending on where hoisted, night signals, recognition procedures, signals for individual ships, divisions, fleets. This was the system that had resulted from so much practice over years of sea warfare. It had gone into battle with Howe on the Glorious First of June; only the previous year Jervis had signalled Nelson at St Vincent, and Duncan had used it with such effect at Camperdown.

  Now Lieutenant Kydd had inherited this accrued wisdom and must prove himself worthy of it. He took the signal pocketbook, which had been owned by his dead predecessor, as a model and with scissors and patience set about constructing the vade mecum that would stay with him while he was a signal lieutenant.

  The flag-lieutenant himself brought the summons: Lieutenant Kydd to wait on the admiral immediately. Kydd flinched when he recalled his previous summoning. What could be the reason now? It was astonishing. He was a mere lieutenant – and so many commanders would slay to be noticed by a commander-in-chief – and there was no apparent reason for it.

  Kydd bawled at Tysoe in a fever of anxiety: only new stockings and faultless linen would answer. Decorations? He had none. Sword? The plain hanger he had bought in Halifax would have to do. He pulled on his breeches, watched by half the wardroom.

  A gig was brought alongside and Kydd descended the ship’s side and sat bolt upright in the sternsheets. The bowman cast off with an excess of flourishes and the midshipman in charge set the men to pulling smartly.

  The flag-lieutenant led the way wordlessly to the great cabin. ‘Lieutenant Kydd, sir.’

  ‘Enter!’

  Admiral Vandeput advanced to meet him. ‘Well, now, is this the officer the fuss is all about?’ He regarded Kydd keenly.

  ‘Sir?’

  The white-haired admiral spoke in an easy manner; this could not be a carpeting.

  ‘Please sit, Mr Kydd.’ He went round his desk and found a paper, while Kydd perched on the edge of an elegant Windsor chair. ‘This is a most particular request, not to say direction, and it comes from Mr Liston. Our minister to the United States, that is – what you might call an ambassador.’ He laid the paper on the table and Kydd glimpsed the cipher of the Court of St James at the top.

  ‘In it he desires me to release an officer for a particular service to a foreign power – as you probably know, we have had officers seconded to the Swedish Crown, St Petersburg, other countries. This is not unusual. It is a little odd, though, that you have been named, and that you are so damn junior.’ His quiet chuckle took the sting from his words. ‘It seems the United States is conjuring up their own navy and they have asked Mr Liston for an observer from the Royal Navy, if possible a Lieutenant Kydd. He feels that it would be right at this time to be seen co-operating with a neutral nation.

  ‘There! What do you think of that, Mr Kydd? You’re noticed diplomatically.’ His genial smile grew wider and he stabbed a finger at Kydd in emphasis. ‘And I’d wager more went on ashore in that backwoods village than ever found its way into your report, hey-hey?’

  ‘Er, sir, I—’

  ‘Never mind. Whatever it was, you did right. Now, let’s talk about what you’ll be doing. They’ve got together two or three frigates – built ’em themselves, damn it – and I’ve seen the gunboats their Revenue runs. Calls ’em their ‘treasury navy’. Now, you’ll probably be shipping in one of their frigates – they’re fitting out now. Your status will be supernumerary for the voyage – a passenger, any Christian would call it – and you won’t be called upon to serve a gun if it comes to fighting.’

  ‘Er, who will be their enemy, sir?’

  ‘Well, that’s a little difficult to say, but . . .’ he tapped his nose ‘ . . . I’ve been hearing that the French have overstepped their position, making hay with American trade, and they don’t like it. In any event, they’ll probably tell you about it themselves.

  ‘Now, I know you’ll comport yourself as a gentleman should, marks o’ respect to all the proper persons, flags and so on. But I think what they’re probably after is a correct steer on how things are done in our service. I don’t see any reason why you can’t tell ’em anything reasonable they want to know. Must be hard to start from nothing,’ he reflected sombrely. ‘You go in plain clothes, will be victualled by the, er, United States Navy, and I don’t suppose you’ll be away from us for long. There’s a brig leaving for Philadelphia shortly – it’s their capital, where our Mr Liston is expecting you. Good fortune, Lieutenant!’

  Kydd took in the sights as the brig rounded Cape May for the long trip up the broad Delaware. This was quite a different land from rugged grey rock-bound Nova Scotia or even pretty, forested Connecticut. Here there was well-settled land on either bank, farming and orchards, settlements and roads. The sails of coastal shipping
thronged the river as it narrowed towards the capital. Kydd was impressed. No mean colonial sprawl, Philadelphia was a fine city that stretched for miles along the river, as busy as any he had seen in England.

  Kydd followed his baggage ashore and looked to see if someone was there to meet him. A ferry loaded noisily and a market stretched away into the distance, improbably occupying the middle of a wide road.

  ‘Mr Kydd?’

  He wheeled round. ‘Aye?’ he said cautiously.

  A well-dressed young man inclined his head. ‘Thornton, secretary of Legation.’

  ‘How—’

  ‘Please believe, it’s not so hard a task to spy out a sailor, Mr Kydd.’ He raised a beckoning finger and a coachman came for Kydd’s baggage. ‘So good in you to leave your wooden world at such short notice. His Excellency is returning from Mount Vernon and hopes to make your acquaintance tomorrow. I trust you’ll find our accommodation congenial.’

  With a growing sense of unreality Kydd boarded a high-wheeled carriage and the debonair Thornton pointed out the sights as they made Walnut Street at a fast clip. ‘Minister Liston keeps unfashionable hours, I fear. Can you find it in you, dear fellow, to appear at nine tomorrow morning? It seems he’s anxious to see you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Should you like theatre, I have tickets for this evening.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kydd murmured, his head spinning with the pace of events.

  ‘Mr Liston,’ Thornton said softly, ushering Kydd into a small drawing room and closing the door noiselessly as he left.

  ‘Ah, Mr Kydd,’ said Liston, finishing a letter. ‘Pray be seated, I won’t be long.’

  While Liston sanded and sealed the missive, Kydd had the feeling that he was under discreet observation.

  ‘Very well. To business. You will be aware by now that this country has seen fit to begin the creation of a navy, arising from the grievous nature of the depredations of the French on their trade. For details of that you will no doubt have your professional sources.’ He paused significantly. ‘There are many elements of delicacy in this situation, and in a way I would wish that you were of a more elevated, senior character, but in this I am constrained by their very firm petition for your own good self to undertake this service. Therefore I will be plain. The United States has done us the signal honour of embarking on a characterisation of their navy that is in the greatest measure our own. This is gratifying to us, of course, as it presupposes an alignment of purpose consequent upon a convergence of practices. This, naturally, has put the French out of countenance, for the Americans have turned their back on their traditional ally in this.’

  Liston paused, considering Kydd. ‘And in this, as in all things, you will consult your honour as to how on foreign soil you will best conduct yourself in furtherance of your country’s interests.’

  Something in the smooth flow of words alerted Kydd and he listened warily. ‘I will, sir, be assured.’

  ‘Then if this is your prime motivation I can rely on your loyalty to the Crown?’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘Then let me lay out the issues before you. You are in a unique position to allay the fears of your government on certain matters concerning the effectiveness of this armament . . .’

  ‘Sir!’ Kydd said tightly. ‘You’re askin’ me to spy on th’ Americans?’ The warmth of a flush spread, but he did not care. Spies and betrayal, this was not how he saw his duty.

  Liston’s face tightened. ‘Have a care, Lieutenant! Recollect you hold the commission of King George. And in it you have sworn certain loyalties that cannot so easily be cast aside. What I am asking is no more than any officer of honour is bound to do when on foreign territory, whether on parole or any other basis – simply to keep his eyes open.’ The crack of aristocratic authority in his voice remained as he went on, ‘And if I might remark it, you appear surprisingly deficient thereby in your understanding of the bounds of gentlemanly conduct.’

  Kydd stiffened, then dropped his eyes.

  Liston’s tone softened: ‘We’re not asking you to report back on the number of ships and guns and so forth, if that is your scruple. It is something of far more significance. I desire that you will return to me with an opinion as to whether you believe the United States is determined in this matter, has resolved to establish an armed force of credibility, or is merely embarked on a ploy to deter the French.’ He fixed his gaze on Kydd. ‘And if you conceive that they are in earnest, your professional opinion as to their effectiveness at sea. In short, whether they can fight – should the world take notice.’

  Kydd returned the gaze steadily. ‘I will do that, sir.’ It was not an act of spying: it was an opinion.

  Liston relaxed a little. ‘Then as we seem to have come to an understanding, would you care to join me for coffee? The American bean is generally accounted superior, and we have the remainder of this hour before your hosts make their appearance.’

  Twenty minutes later there was a firm knock on the door. Thornton appeared, with an indistinct figure behind him. ‘Sir, a gentleman for Mr Kydd.’ It was Gindler.

  Outside they shook hands gleefully. ‘Well, this must be the strangest coincidence of the age,’ laughed Gindler, but his knowing look gave the game away.

  ‘So, what has the American Navy in store for poor Lieutenant Kydd?’

  ‘Ah, the United States Navy is what we call it – you English will have reason to remember the Continental Navy of the revolution; this is now the Federal Navy but some take exception to the term.’

  ‘Noted.’

  ‘And you are now talking to L’tenant Gindler, third of the United States Frigate Constellation, Captain Truxtun, now fitting out in Baltimore.’ He smiled wickedly. ‘And I am talking to the mysterious supernumerary on our first voyage . . .’

  Kydd laughed but his interest swelled fast. This was not to be a pettifogging political appointment but a real seagoing situation. ‘When—’

  ‘Not so fast, good sir. I’m instructed that our new secretary of the Navy wishes to make your acquaintance before we hazard the briny deep.’

  ‘Do excuse this mare’s nest of a room – my wife has not yet arrived in Philadelphia to take charge of my household.’ Stoddert made ineffectual attempts to clear a space at one end of a plain table where a stout chair stood. His manner was distracted but his gaze direct as he greeted Kydd.

  ‘Secretary Stoddert has only recently arrived in the capital,’ Gindler murmured, standing clear of the welter of papers and furniture.

  ‘Thank you, Lieutenant. Pray call on me before you leave Philadelphia. I may have something for Captain Truxtun.’ Gindler bowed and left.

  ‘Now, you are Lieutenant Kydd of the Royal Navy.’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘And you must be wondering why you are here, not to say concerned.’

  ‘Aye, sir,’ Kydd said, uneasy at yet more attention from on high. Stoddert lowered himself into his chair. ‘Then, first, the wider issue. We are in the process of creating our own navy. We have chosen to follow the example and traditions of the Royal Navy as a starting point for our own. It would be of the utmost value to us were an officer of that illustrious service to signify to us our success in this endeavour. As to why your own good self, Mr Gindler was good enough to render me a full and satisfying account of what transpired in Exbury – in confidence, of course. There can be no question that the United States is implicated in any way.’

  ‘I understand, sir.’

  ‘But more to our liking are Mr Gindler’s remarks upon your character. Let me be candid, sir. The Royal Navy is a proud and ancient service, but there are many of its officers whose superior attitude is both lamentable and abhorrent to us as a nation. It is a trait that regrettably seems to appear more prominent with seniority, and this is why we have chosen to request a less senior officer.

  ‘Mr Gindler tells us that your conduct ashore was circumspect and respectful to the feelings of the people even to the point of joining the merriment in a ta
vern – in short, sir, you have the common touch, which we as a people do prize so much.’ Stoddert rose, gripping the edge of the table and wincing as he did so. At Kydd’s concern he gave a low chuckle. ‘Ah, this. A souvenir given me by the English at Brandywine Creek.’

  He drew the chair to a more confiding proximity. ‘Let me be frank, Mr Kydd. Your position as a King’s officer in a warship of the United States Navy is anomalous, not to say irregular, and there are those who would put the worst construction on your presence. Therefore you are entered as a supernumerary on board, specifically a friend of the captain. You haven’t yet the pleasure of an introduction to Captain Truxtun, but he will be advised of you, and will be encouraged to take full advantage of your knowledge and experience of the Royal Navy. I’m sure he will appreciate your assistance.’ He leaned forward further. ‘Before you go, I should like to make it very plain that on your return I would deeply appreciate your sincere appraisal of our efforts. Do you think this will be possible?’

  ‘Sir.’ Kydd felt resentment building at the way so many seemed to be treating him like a pawn in a higher game.

  ‘Then, sir, it only remains for me to wish you God speed on your voyage. You will find Lieutenant Gindler waiting in the drawing room below.’

  ‘Was all that necessary?’ A figure moved out from behind a covered escritoire.

  Stoddert closed the door. ‘I think so. The military of any race should not be overburdened with considerations of politics.’ At times Murray, his political agent, could be insensitive to the perceptions of others.

  ‘Be that as it may, Mr Stoddert, you didn’t warn him of the Republicans – he should have been told.’

  ‘That we have an opposition in Congress so lost to honour they would stop at nothing to ruin our navy for crass political gain? Jefferson has done his worst to try to prevent America reaching for a sure shield against the world – how can I explain that to a man whose country continues to exist only because of her own power at sea? I cannot. In any case, this talk of subverting crews and so on is probably from unreliable sources and should be discounted. What most concerns me are my captains. A prickly, difficult bunch, Murray. Especially Truxtun.’