Rough Waters
Copyright© 2024 by Argon
Chapter 8: The Swillies
In the weeks following O’Shaunessy’s conviction, Asia was at sea incessantly. Without explicitly admitting to it, Commodore Fanning seemed to harbour some resentment against his captain. Tony had a good idea what the reasons were, for Mrs. Fanning was living in Dublin, and some of the resentment felt against Tony by the local authorities might be directed against her by proxy.
There was more under the surface, he suspected. After all, Fanning had taught Tony most of what he knew about his profession and he was Tony’s senior as a captain by more than six years. Yet, in the salons of Dublin, and no doubt for Mrs. Fanning to hear, Fanning was just another Navy officer. By contrast, Tony was given far more attention as a veteran of Trafalgar. There was also the knighthood to consider. Receiving the knighthood was the Holy Grail for every captain, yet the coveted distinction had eluded Fanning so far, in spite of the numerous successful engagements he had fought.
Patrolling the Irish Sea, there was not much hope either for Fanning to distinguish himself further. To be fair, after Trafalgar, there were not many chances for captains to fight the pitched battles that were their hope to win distinction. The French were beaten and blockaded, and the British ships were mere warders of them, preventing them from escaping the harbours. This was as dangerous and demanding a duty as sailing in the line of battle, and far mnore tiring, but it won little recognition for them.
Whatever the reasons, Fanning had the Asia scour the Irish Sea for weeks on end. If not fame, they would at least earn prize monies. Twice already, they had apprehended smaller vessels engaged in smuggling. Many Irish and Scottish families had relatives in France or Spain, and in spite of the war, those ties were maintained and used for the trade in contraband. It was ironic that the lumbering Asia had caught two prizes whilst the frigates and sloops had been without success, but both Fanning and Tony were frigate captains at heart, and they just seemed to know where to position the huge ship in a fog to catch a hapless smuggler.
These small successes were good for the morale of the crew, and even Commodore Fanning’s misgivings about his captain were reduced when they caught a seventy-ton cutter laden with French brandies. The cargo would sell for a premium in London where brandy was hard to come by due to the Continental Embargo now enforced by the Emperor Napoleon. Consequently, Asia stayed at sea for longer uninterrupted intervals, as Commodore Fanning sought to win in monies what he had missed in honours.
It was an early August morning, and Asia was sailing close-hauled against the northwesterly wind and the choppy waves along the Welsh coast. They had sailed close to the coast line in the cover of the night and they hoped for yet another smuggler making use of the morning breeze just south of Anglesey when they sighted a suspicious craft, a lugger that was just emerging from Menai Strait. That was suspicious in itself, for no captain in his right mind would sail that treacherous passage, let alone at night.
Obviously, the captain of the lugger did not like the Asia’s sight either. He changed his southbound course to west, lying as close to the wind as possible and trying to evade the big ship. However, on the sea, flight provokes pursuit, and the way Tony had placed the Asia, she held the leeward position, preventing an easy escape. Given the fresh breeze and the choppy water, the big ship of the line with her nearly twenty feet of draught was at least equal to the small lugger which was thrown about in the waves and made more leeway due to its shallow build.
Fanning had appeared on deck. “Another one?” he asked, unconsciously rubbing his hands.
Tony turned to his commodore. “At least he’s leery of us, Sir. He’s trying to show us his heels, but in this weather, he’ll have a hard time of it. We’re gaining already.”
“Excellent. What’s his cargo though? Coming from Liverpool is my guess. What’s to hide with a cargo from Liverpool?”
“Not brandy, I fear,” Tony joked. “I hear that West Indian sugar commands fantastic prices on the Continent.”
“Possible. If he keeps that course, we’ll know in an hour or two. Damn it! He’s going about!”
Tony was already shouting his commands. As the lugger settled on her new, eastern course, Tony kept the Asia straight to leeward, the ideal position for a chase under the prevailing conditions. Whenever they overreached the smaller craft, Tony luffed his ship for a few seconds, winning precious way to windward and closing on his intended prey. Already, the smaller ship was within firing range.
“A shot over the bows, Sir?” Tony asked.
Fanning nodded immediately. On Tony’s orders the bow chasers were readied and five minutes later, a shot roared out. In the rough sea, Tony could barely make out the water fountain, but there it was, two cable lengths in front of the lugger. Yet, the lugger held course.
It became obvious to Tony that the other captain was abandoning his attempt to leave British waters, heading back for the mouth of Menai Strait. This was a dilemma. To follow the lugger would be more than foolhardy in a ship as big as the Asia. Tony was not sure whether any big ship had ever sailed the passage. Fortunately, a look at the tidal tables confirmed that the flood tide was still running. Still, he needed advice.
“Mister Murphy!”
“Aye, aye, Sir!” Murphy, the sailing master, answered, already crossing the deck.
“You know Menai Strait?”
“Yes, Sir. Sailed it in a customs cutter during the peace. Nasty passage, Sir.”
“The flood is running now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir, but that’s a problem, too. You see, the flood will run west to east in the Strait, but once the tide reaches Conwy Bay, it’ll run east to west. That makes for violent cross currents in the Swillies.”
“Would you sail Asia through the Strait, Mister Murphy?”
Taking a deep breath, Murphy shook his head. “I’d advise against it, Sir, but that’s my duty. It’s chancing the ship, Sir.”
Tony had read about the violent cross currents at a place called the Swillies, the narrowest part of the passage. This was owed to the fact that the tide entered this waterway from two sides and with a time delay, causing opposing currents and eddies. Yet, there was no way to come close enough to the lugger before it reached the strait. Well, except by crippling it. Tony turned to Fanning.
“Sir, permission to open fire? I fear he’ll show us a clean pair of heels by sailing the Strait.”
Fanning shook his head. “No, that will not do. What’s the use of sinking her? Keep up the pursuit. We’ll enter the Strait. The first half is not bad.”
“Aye-aye, Sir,” Tony answered, his misgivings not quite hidden. Here he was risking a £45,000 ship of the line to catch a lugger worth less than £1,000.
In the face of a clear order, there was nothing he could do. He gave orders to head for the strait. They were still gaining on the lugger in the choppy water, but that would cease once they entered the protected waters in the strait. Rounding the point at the mouth, the lugger had already gained a cable length.
“Do you wish for me to continue the pursuit, Sir?” he asked Fanning.
Fanning, to his credit, weighed the question. He knew full well that the risk was great. It was Tony’s responsibility to ask that question, and it was Fanning’s decision. He exhaled.
“It’s worth the risk. That lugger is hiding something, and I want to know what. Do you want to lodge a protest, to be on the safe side?”
The question was asked without malice. Tony shook his head.
“No, thank you, Sir. That will not be necessary.” He grinned. “I do not plan to run her aground.”
“Very well, then, Captain! Let’s give chase!”
The next two hours would forever be etched into Tony’s memory. The moment they entered the narrow waterway, Tony felt the difference. Suddenly, the ponderous Asia swerved and yawed like a flat-bottomed lighter in the violent tidal currents. The tide was still pushing them forward, and the sailing was treacherous. Tony realised that they were on a swift ride they could not control. His only consolation came from the discovery that the lugger was faring even worse. The deep keel of the two-decker at least found some purchase in the calmer water closer to the bottom. By contrast, the lugger was thrown about violently in the cross currents and barely able to steer a course.
Tony had to relieve the quartermasters with each sound of the bell, to account for the back-breaking work they had to perform. After an hour, they came closer to the Swillies, the narrowest section of the strait, full of submerged rocks. It was sheer luck that the tide current reversed just as they approached this dangerous narrows. For a few precious minutes, the currents from either side of the Strait neutralised each other, creating somewhat manageable conditions. Murphy had climbed into the foretop with a speaking trumpet and yelled down directions. The men at the wheel were now supported by twelve men on the relief tackles on the lower gundeck, directed by Fanning who in this moment gave up his role as commodore to help with his vast experience.
From his quarterdeck, Tony could see people on the shore, their mouth agape and staring at the sight of a large third-rate navigating the Swillies. The slight counter current gained strength, giving them better steerage and also slowing down their speed over the ground. By backing the topsails, they could even reverse once when Murphy saw them heading for a dead end channel between the underwater shoals.
At one point, they had to go about when a cross wind caught them unprepared. For two minutes, Asia drifted with her sails aback. Murphy returned to the deck so fast that he burnt his hands on the halliards. Fortunately, the wind veered again, and Asia picked up speed. There was a submerged sandbank ahead, though, and Tony immediately saw that there was no way to sail around it. On his orders, the topgallants were shaken out to gather more speed. Whatever happened, he had to get the Asia over that sandbar before the low tide would set in. Once stranded, the ship would break apart as soon as it was not buoyed by the water anymore.
Asia scraped over the sandbar, and the sound of her keel dragging over the dirt sent shivers of fear through her crew. Yet, the momentum of over 2,000 tons going at five knots was just great enough though to see them across.
Nobody’d had the time to watch the lugger, but once they were safely across the sandbar, Tony saw it. It sat, stern first, on a submerged rock. The mast had snapped off at deck level and Tony could see that the lugger’s back was broken. He immediately ordered to have the side boats lowered. The crews rushed into the boats and took off, to save whoever had survived the grounding. Tony called John Little next.
“Listen, take the gig and once the side boats are clear, enter the lugger and find out what’s her cargo. If possible, look into the main cabin and secure any papers you can find. Don’t stay too long, d’ye hear!”
The gig was off a few minutes later whilst the side boats were already picking up survivors from the rocks that surrounded the wreck. Tony had the Asia luff to take out speed, and she more or less countered the current, maintaining her relative position.
John Little knew his trade. The gig, driven by eight oars, approached the wreck from downstream, and the bow man was able to hook them with a well thrown grapnel. Next, John Little and young Eric Johnsen boarded the small ship. As ordered, Little stayed for less than five minutes, but Tony could see that both men carried bundles which they threw into the gig before they left the doomed lugger.
Meanwhile, Tony had to receive the crew of the lugger, the Charlie as Tony learned. The skipper was not among them. He had been hit by a boom when the lugger ran aground and thrown into the water, never to surface again.
Tony questioned the rescued men to find out why they had tried to evade the Asia, but the soaked and shivering men refused to answer. He left the men standing as the gig was fighting its way back to the Asia. Once it was hooked, John Little climbed up and with a triumphant grin he handed two canvas bags to Tony.
“This is all we could find in the rush, Sir.”
“Excellent, Little,” Tony commended his coxswain. He turned to Fanning. “Sir, do you wish to examine these papers?”
Fanning nodded. “I shall attend to them. Kindly have the lugger’s crew locked away and set a course for Liverpool, if you please. Oh, Sir Anthony, that was a fine piece of seamanship you showed. I doubt anybody ever sailed a full ship through that maelstrom.”
Fanning disappeared after this, leaving to Tony the task of putting the soaked survivors of the shipwreck under lock and key. That done, he went below himself, to change out of his sweat-soaked clothes. Now that the excitement was gone, he felt weak and cold. The risk they had run had been enormous, and Tony still did not know if it had availed anything.
Not long after, though, Fanning’s steward knocked.
“The Commodore’s compliments, Sir Anthony, and would you dine with him?”
There was but one answer to the invitation from a superior officer.
“Please tell Commodore Fanning it will be my pleasure.”
The table in the upper deck cabin was set for two when Tony entered. Obviously, Fanning wanted to talk in privacy. Tony shrugged. He had not done anything against Fanning’s wishes in almost four weeks, and they had not received mail either, excluding the possibility that Fanning had to break bad news to him.
He had to sit all through an excellent dinner before Fanning revealed the reasons for this invitation. When the table was finally cleared, the steward served Port Wine and retreated, leaving them alone.
“We are sailing in deep waters, Tony,” Fanning began.
Tony was surprised at the address. Only once before had Fanning addressed him by his first name, when he yielded the command over the Medusa to him.
“How so, Sir?”
“Those canvas bags your cox’n secured will cause heads to roll, and we must be careful or it will be our heads. There were letters in that bag that implicate leading men in the Viceroy’s government. Your friend Melrose is among them; the Lord Justice, too. Suffice to say, they schemed to have those hapless men convicted to incite disenchantment amongst loyal Irish officers in our service. It was a plot, and the French must be behind it.”
“Shall we sail for London, Sir?”
“That’s a thought. However, what I gleaned from the letters is that the Viceroy is not party to the conspiracy. To go to London with our discovery would blindside him and discredit him. I have to find a way to interview the Viceroy in privacy. At least one of his secretaries is a traitor. If this leaks out, the traitors may flee or even try to act against us.”
“I would suggest, Sir, to keep the lugger’s crew locked away. We mustn’t let any crew ashore either, lest somebody runs his mouth over their capture.”
“My thoughts exactly. This should include our gigs’ crews, but I don’t know how we can get ashore without them. We’ll have them return to the ship immediately. Then we need to make contact with the Viceroy. How are we supposed to achieve that?”
“You could claim to have dispatches for him, Sir. We could even make up something, to cover for your visit.”
Fanning made a face. “He still won’t see me privately.”
“Sir, what if your wife could manage to dance with the Viceroy at a soiree, and ask him to see you in private?”
Fanning thought about, and he obviously found no fault with the idea. He nodded.
“That may be a possibility. Yes, that’s what we’ll try. Kindly change course for Dublin, Tony. There’s no time to be wasted.”
“May I sail around Anglesey this time, Sir?” Tony asked dryly.
“Yes, please. I’ve seen enough of Menai Strait to last me a lifetime.”
Dougherty looked at Tony curiously when the new course was set, but Tony’s bearing was discouraging him from asking for explanations. The NNW wind that had been so helpful during their passage through Menai Strait now forced Tony to elongate his north-easterly leg way beyond Gogarth before he could hope to lay a westward course that would see him free to pass Anglesey safely. Nevertheless, the next morning saw them off Holyhead and with a clean run for Dublin.
Even though the discovery of important documents on board the lugger had been kept secret, excitement ran high among officers and crew. The daring passage through Menai Strait would be retold for years, and Tony suspected the story to be blown out of proportion pretty soon. The officers had another reason to be anxious for their return to port. Six weeks had passed since their sailing, and the fate of their wardroom mate Michael O’Shaunessy might be decided by now.
Tony himself was anxious to receive mail, too. Almost eight weeks are a long time, and he wanted to learn how Harriet had responded to his appeal. His suggestion to sail for London with the captured documents had been made with the idea in mind to see Harriet and make progress in their reconciliation. Now he had to wait for God knew how long. He expected Fanning to sail again within a day, to maintain secrecy.
The River Liffey estuary came into sight shortly after noon and Tony ordered a shortening of the sails. The armed cutter “Wren” was lying along the quay, but that was the only shipping in the harbour, save for some lighters. Tony anchored the Asia a good two cable lengths from the shore to prevent any communication between ship and land. As soon as the sails were belayed, Tony assembled the officers and issued his orders. No contact with the shore was permitted, bum boats had to stay away, the mail would be delivered by shore boat and woe to the officer who allowed idle chatter. Tony could see that his officers were taken aback over this strict quarantine, but Tony’s demeanour did not encourage questions.
Fanning had himself rowed ashore in his barge. The boat was under a midshipman’s command and returned immediately. In his glass, Tony could see how Fanning was speaking to another Navy officer, an admiral, right on the quay. They disappeared together and Tony went below to complete a letter to Harriet. It was almost two hours later when the midshipman of the watch knocked and entered.
“Signal from the shore, Sir Anthony! To Asia, send captain.”
“Very well, Mister Pollard. Have my gig called at once!”
Five minutes later saw him in the stern of his gig.
“You’ll return to the ship at once, Little,” he ordered his coxswain. There was no need for a midshipman to command the boat, for John Little had full control of the crew.
In silent understanding, Little steered the gig to a landing away from any idlers, and the boat had shoved off before Tony was half way up the steps. He saw Fanning immediately, but at his side was Sir Richard Lambert who regarded Tony with a mixture of exasperation and admiration.
“Ah, here is the other madman!” he greeted his son-in-law. “What a folly, to steer a third-rate through Menai Strait!”
Tony shrugged. “I’m not saying it was easy, Richard, but we made it. All’s well that ends well, right?”
“It was a tomfoolery! You better not tell this story anywhere, unless you want to face a court of inquiry.”
“I told Sir Richard that you were acting under my orders,” Fanning interjected.
“If you are both so eager to spend more time with your wives, ask for a leave, but don’t wreck your ship,” Sir Richard snapped in response.
Tony didn’t answer. It wasn’t necessary, for Sir Richard had vented his exasperation and he turned his attention to business.
“It’s a good thing I’m here. Richmond is an old acquaintance of mine.” He gave Tony another withering look. “Had you kept your face out of that Pendrake woman’s décolletage, you would have seen him at Admiralty House in Kingston. You would have saved my daughter some heartache in the bargain.”
Fanning was grinning broadly, obviously aware of Tony’s dalliance with the voluptuous Mrs. Pendrake and the fallout with Harriet Lambert it had precipitated. Sir Richard collected himself.
“Enough of that. Let us sit in private and plan the next steps.”
“May I ask the reason for your presence here?” Tony asked, just a little worried.
“I accompanied your wife and the O’Shaunessy girl. Your lieutenant was pardoned. I won’t say it was Harriet’s doing alone, but she worked tirelessly toward that end. She even endured that insufferable Selkirk getting mixed up in the campaign. In the end, it was probably Norton who swayed the ministry.”
Sir Anthony led the way into the city proper. “Harriet is here, then?” Tony asked when Sir Richard would not continue.
“I expect her back any day. Her mother sent her on some foolish errand to Armagh, to give her an excuse to accompany the O’Shaunessy girl.”
Whilst he then proceeded to tell them of the deal made with the ministry, they reached the Golden Cross inn. On Sir Richard’s demand, a side room was cleared for them, and a cold pastry was served. The waiting girl left the room and Sir Richard locked it from inside.
“Now, let us talk. You have those captured letters, Fanning?”
The commodore nodded and produced an envelope from his breast pocket which he handed to the admiral. Sir Richard first examined the envelope and the address written on it, as well as the broken seal. With his long and delicate fingers, he pulled out the contents, four handwritten pages which he then proceeded to study. At last, he looked up at his son-in-law.
“Have you seen this?”
Tony shook his head. “There was no need. Commodore Fanning related the contents to me.”
“He did, didn’t he. Well, this is highly incriminating for a number of men in high positions. I agree with Commodore Fanning that the Viceroy needs to be informed urgently and discreetly. I would advise you against involving your wife, my dear Fanning. Those are deep waters and we should hate for your wife to incur the malevolence of those traitors, even unwittingly.
“I have seen the Viceroy twice in private company, and both times were in his own quarters. I think I should offer a counter invitation to him, in style of course. I believe the great cabin of Asia would be fitting, if you gentlemen will allow me the use of it. So far, his secretaries have not been in presence during our private evenings.”
“Should they accompany him, I could arrange for the wardroom to entertain them?” Tony suggested. “We captured some excellent French brandy; that should suffice to lure them away from their master.”
“Quite! Now what about that smuggler’s crew?”
Fanning shrugged. “I believe time is limited in any case. Our chase through Menai Strait was observed from the shore, and rumours will reach Dublin in a few days. I could send them aboard the Wren and order Mister Fenwick to patrol the Scottish coastline for at least a fortnight.”
Sir Richard and Tony nodded at Fanning’s suggestion. It was sensible. Tony had to add something.
“I’m afraid I cannot keep officers and crew secluded from the shore for long. Two weeks is possible without raising suspicion, but a longer quarantine cannot be maintained.”
Sir Richard nodded his consent.
“I shall send a billet to the Viceroy right this afternoon. There is another matter, though, that needs to be discussed. Their Lordships are of the opinion that a third-rate is ill suited for chasing down smugglers in the Irish Sea. Recent evidence to the contrary notwithstanding,” here Sir Richard smiled sardonically, “I have to agree with their assessment. Be that as it may, Asia will join Sir Charles Cotton’s squadron off Cadiz.”
“Spain?” Fanning and Tony asked simultaneously.
“This only concerns Asia, my dear Fanning. You will continue your command here. You will have two frigates instead of the Asia. Indefatigable will be one of them, I know. She’ll make for a decent flagship. You may also expect your flag very soon.”
“Pellew’s old frigate?” Fanning asked eagerly.
Indefatigable was a legend in the service. She had started as a 64-gun two-decker ship of the line. She was too late for the American war and obsolete before she was even launched. They had cut her down, — razeed her — to one deck in ‘94, to make a 44-gun frigate of her, and in the four years following, she had become as famous as her first captain, Sir Edward Pellew.
“The very same,” Sir Richard answered. “She’s fresh from the dry dock, too. The other frigate is Phoenix, 36. I fancy, with four frigates and a sloop, you’ll have better pickings from those smugglers. Your patrol area will include the south coast.”
Fanning nodded. He would lose his flagship, but his responsibilities would be greater. It made sense, too. Two frigates could patrol far more efficiently. With the increased patrol area, he might even pick up more contraband.
Meanwhile, Tony did not look too happy. Joining Vice-Admiral Cotton’s squadron would most likely mean blockade service off Cadiz. He might not see Harriet again for years.
Sir Richard could sense Tony’s thoughts. He gave his son-in-law an assuring smile.
“Harriet is willing to move to Gibraltar. You could see each other whenever you return to port for victualling.”
Tony weighed this. “That may be hard for her, to be away from all her friends and family.”
“You better talk to her. You’ll find out that there are only three persons whom she’s concerned about, and two of them are your children.”
They returned to discussing the pressing matters then. With the two captains watching, Sir Richard composed a short letter, inviting his Excellency The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland (“My dear Charles,”) for an evening on board HMS Asia, to acquaint himself with ship and crew and to enjoy their hospitality (“They just recently captured a large cargo of French brandies which I trust your will enjoy to sample.”). He continued, expressing his hope that such a visit would put an end to misgivings caused by the judicial proceedings against Mister O’Shaunessy. The letter ended with Sir Richard promising an enlightening and entertaining evening.
Once the epistle had been sealed and sent by way of messenger, Fanning and Tony bade their farewell, to return to Asia and to start preparations for the viceroyal visit.
For the evening, the wardroom officers were invited into the great cabin. Commodore Fanning made it clear that officers and crew would be confined to the ship. He explained this by stating that he did not wish for their adventure in Menai Strait to become public knowledge, as it was likely to precipitate a court of inquiry. The officers looked at each other, obviously taken aback. Commodore Fanning then went on to explain that they had nothing to show for their reckless action, the lugger being lost and nothing of value recovered.
Tony then revealed the new destination for Asia. The response was mixed. Blockade duty off Cadiz would be boring. However, patrolling the Irish Sea in winter was not tempting either.
“Sir,” Jonathan Wilkes asked, “are we permitted to write home about that changed posting? I know that my wife was contemplating to find temporary lodgings here in Dublin, and I would rather give her fair warning.”
“Certainly,” Tony replied. “You gentlemen are not prisoners. I must insist, however, that you refrain from mentioning any recent action. Is that understood?”
The officers nodded judiciously. A court of inquiry is a tricky thing, and to be involved even by association might harm their own future careers. Tony then raised the mood by announcing the possibility that His Excellency the Viceroy might pay a visit to the Asia and her officers.
The next morning was spent removing all traces of the last weeks at sea, and by midmorning, the decks were spotless again, ropes and lines were chalked and coiled properly, and the quarter deck guns polished. Shortly after noon, a billet arrived from Sir Richard, confirming that His Excellency had accepted the ad hoc invitation. This news precipitated even more efforts to bring the ship into its best shape, and the toil served to make the men forget their confinement on board.
Right on time at the start of the Second Dog Watch, a launch left the quay. In his glass, Tony made out his father-in-law and, equally imposing, the Viceroy in his General’s uniform. At least two more officers accompanied His Excellency. When the launch drew nearer, Tony recognised both officers as the commander of Dublin Castle, Major General Edwin Hobbs and his second-in-command, Colonel Benteen.
“What a stroke of luck,” Fanning whispered in Tony’s ear. “Neither of them is implicated in the documents.”
Tony nodded although he was certain that it had been Sir Richard’s planning and not luck that had caused both officers to join in the visit. The Viceroy rated a 19-gun salute which began precisely the second he stepped through the port. The Duke looked about curiously as gun after gun discharged to leeward, their thunder rolling over the river estuary.
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