Dead Reckoning (7 page)

“I'll admit I was tempted,” replied Delancey, “and I agree that the frigate could have been captured. But remember, please, what I had been told to do. My orders were to escort the China Fleet from Macao to Penang. Had I taken that frigate, the French Commodore would have retaken her and would, in doing so, have attacked the convoy. Look at it from his point of view. In intercepting the China Fleet he loses a frigate, captured by an apparent merchantman! There is no comparable event in history. He is left with two alternatives. Having broken off the engagement, he can shoot himself before the court martial can assemble, or else he must go into battle and recapture that frigate regardless of the cost in lives and damage. How would the battle have ended? With the capture of the
Tourville?
I doubt it. But the result, whatever happened, would not have been consistent with the convoy's safety.”

“But what if the
Tourville
had been taken?” asked Tarleton. “We might picture her surrounded by Indiamen, unable to escape and fired on from all directions. What a story that would have made, what an event for the history books!”

“That is all very well,” said Delancey, “for a navy captain like you, commanding a ship-of-the-line like the
Leonidas.
A fire-eating man-of-war's captain need not count the cost. We East India Commanders—” (there was a roar of laughter at this point) “we—East India Commanders look at the matter differently. We were not sent out here to fight with the French. Our orders were to fetch tea from Canton and deliver it safely to the East India
Docks in London River. That is what we are doing and any escort provided is to help us achieve our purpose. Captain Longhurst reminded me just now that my capturing a French frigate in a single-ship duel would have earned me the honour of a knighthood. That is probably true but I was not sent to the East in search of honours, nor am I the man who should receive them. The knighthood, if there is one, should go to Captain Woodfall, the Commodore under whose pennant we were all proud to serve. Allow me, sir, to anticipate events and give the toast ‘Sir Henry Woodfall!'”

Back on board the
Laura,
Mather reported on the dinner he had given for the officers and midshipmen. “Morale is high, sir,” he concluded. “The effect of that pantomime, followed by those broadsides, has been excellent. We all see the
Laura
now as a crack ship. It is only a first-rate crew which can pretend to be hopeless. We had every reason, sir, to be proud of them.”

“I
am
proud of them. But remember this, Mr Mather, the crew is now at its peak, fresh from Europe, healthy and up to strength. This is too good to last. We shall presently feel the effects of tropical illness, losses, invaliding, early promotion, recruitment of native seamen, and general lassitude. The real test will come in a year's time and in the year after that. We cannot hope to be as good as we are now. Our hope must be that we shall still be better than the other side.”

No longer in line of battle, the China Fleet was sailing up the Straits of Malacca with the
Laura
under easy sail to windward. The distant blue mountains on either side rose above the clouds and the sea was alternately in sunlight and shadow. It was very hot and humid as compared with China, the equator being not far to the south of them. Awnings were rigged and rules relaxed about uniform, even officers wearing only shirt and
trousers. Mather had a group of midshipmen taking bearings with the sextant.

Delancey walked aft and left them to it. How was he going to do without Mather? He was fortunate to have kept him for so long; for long enough, indeed, to have trained the midshipmen. He himself could never have done that so well. Fitzgerald, on the one hand, lacked the patience and Greenwell lacked the knowledge. The
Laura
would presently drop anchor at Penang and there, as he guessed, his troubles would begin. There would be malaria, to begin with, desertion quite possibly, and a general wastage of men who could not be replaced. He was lucky to have fought that action when he did, using tactics he would never dare use again while on this station. At Penang he would almost certainly receive fresh orders. He would probably hand over the China Fleet to another and stronger escort. He would have to call on the recently appointed Governor. He would also have the opportunity of writing his next letter home. He would do better, in fact, to write the letter beforehand, knowing that he would be busy from the time of his arrival there. So he went to his day cabin and began:

March 28th 1806

My dearest Fiona—I please myself with the thought that I am nearer to you each day, and could only wish that this would, of necessity, hasten the day on which we shall be reunited. I suspect, alas, that their Lordships will have other work for me during the months to come. We have had some success, however, during the last few days, having saved the China Fleet from an attack by three French men-of-war, one of them the
Tourville
of 80 guns. We could not
have out fought the French but we achieved a theatrical success and one which would have won your professional approval.

We have in the
Laura—
and I suppose there is in every ship—a fair amount of amateur acting talent. On the way to China, when we were sailing steadily with the southwesterly monsoon behind us, the starboard watch put on a performance of
The Rivals
by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, a play in which I know you have acted (as Julia, I think?). It was really very well done and several of the midshipmen did famously in the women's parts. I became aware, anyway, of the talent we had available.

On the return voyage I decided to transform the
Laura
into an Indiaman and we agreed, further, that she should be the worst ship in the fleet, ill-trained, ill-handled, slow, and useless. When I explained my plan to the officers I read them a part of Shakespeare's play
The Tempest
(Act 1, Scene 1). You know the scene “All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!” Then I assigned them their parts in our own little play.

When faced by the enemy we were to stage a scene of utter confusion, a nightmare of disorder with more than half the crew hidden below decks and the rest behaving like madmen. Cannon would be fired but aimed wide of the target, sails were to fall on the deck, men were to mutiny and fight each other—there was to be a scene worthy of Drury Lane. The success of this production was possible only because the crew was highly disciplined and trained by Mr Mather, the ideal first lieutenant. I could never have risked a scene of confusion if there had been any danger of the confusion becoming real.

Calling upon our acting talent, we presented the very picture of chaos, the characters on stage being some of them civilians and some of them ladies (with costumes made for
The Rivals
), some of them in a state of mutiny and some of them drunk. So our opponents, in a French frigate of about the same force, declined to take us seriously. They ceased fire and awaited our surrender. At that moment we suddenly pulled ourselves together and fired two broadsides which nearly sank them. This ended the battle, the French concluding that where the worst ship was so dangerous the best ships must be invincible. Their Commodore took himself off and will discover before long that he is the laughing stock of the Indian Ocean. With our losses confined to two men slightly wounded, I flatter myself that our farce has been a success. Let me add that I have no plans for staging a tragedy.

We are approaching Prince of Wales Island, a settlement which has recently been elevated to the rank of Presidency, complete with Governor, Council, and Garrison. There are further plans for making it a naval base with facilities for building men-of-war. It remains to be seen whether these plans will answer. We spoke with a southward-bound country ship yesterday and I learnt from her that Sir Edward Pellew (the Admiral under whose orders I am placed) is there on a flying visit from Madras. He is one of the best seamen of the day with a great reputation in gunnery and tactics. He may well think up some service for me which I had rather avoid! He will be much concerned over the damage being done by French privateers which operate from Mauritius. The most active of these is a ship called the
Subtile
commanded by the famous Pierre Chatelard,
who has so far avoided all efforts to capture him.

We capture other privateers from time to time and our prizes are then sold for the benefit of the captors, much to the profit of people like myself. After changing hands two or three times the privateer vessel, which is usually ill-designed for anything but privateering, is then repurchased by her original French owners and sent forth again to prey on our shipping. It would be in the public interest to destroy them on capture but this we cannot afford to do. I should add that we in the
Laura
have so far made nothing. We might have earned, and we may even receive, the thanks of the East India Company but this will do nothing to pay our mess-bills.

On this subject I should add that we have now recruited a number of Chinese servants. I have one to do my laundry and the wardroom officers have three, one of them a cook. So we have Chinese dishes on occasion, and we add to these a variety of tropical fruit. One of these, the durian, has a pleasant taste but a most offensive smell and has to be eaten while holding one's nose!

We have just sighted Prince of Wales Island and I am wanted on deck. So I will close this letter, meaning to tell you in my next letter how much you mean to me and what misery it is to be so far from you and for so long. Pray remember me to my neighbours round Anneville.

And believe me still,

Your most affectionate husband,

Richard Delancey

D
ELANCEY had been invited to dine at Suffolk House, Prince of Wales Island, and his host, Mr William Phillips, had asked him to bring one of his officers as a fellow guest. Greenwell had been his choice and Delancey, having hired a two-horse palanquin, told this officer what to expect. He had to confess to himself that Greenwell was not the ideal fellow guest, being round-shouldered, haggard in appearance, and tongue-tied in company. Delancey had supposed, however, that the experience would be good for him. Leaving the harbour area they could see, looking back, the
Albion
(74 guns) at anchor, together with the frigates
Duncan
and
Caroline
and the sloop
Seahorse.

“Mr Phillips,” he explained, “is Collector of Customs and Land Revenue. He is not a Member of Council but he affects a superior style of living. He plans, I have been told, to make Suffolk House a smaller copy of the Governor-General's palace at Barrackpore. It already has a park, it seems, and begins to look out of the ordinary. The dinner to which we have been invited will follow a pattern set by the Dutch in Java. You are used to curry, I know, but this will be something more elaborate. It is usual to drink beer with it rather than wine and it is followed by a Malay dish of sago, coconut milk, and gula Malacca.”

“What is gula Malacca, sir?”

“A sort of molasses derived from the palm tree. It has a cooling effect after the curry—not that Malay curry is so very hot,
compared at least with what they have at Madras.”

“Seems to me odd, sir, that people who live in so hot a climate should like curry at all.”

“Well, they have the spices and so maybe incline to make use of them. Our fellow guests on this occasion will include Sir Edward Pellew, Captain Macalister, and a number of Mr Phillips's colleagues in government.”

“I hear, sir, that the Admiral was a guest last night on board the
Earl Camden.
”

“Yes, and Captain Woodfall deserves the compliment. We are fortunate to be serving under Sir Edward's flag. Did you ever see him before?”

“No sir. Like everyone else I've heard tell of him for years past. When he was a captain I have been told that he could race any midshipman to the topmast-head, giving him to the maintop. He is remembered as the man who sank the
Droits de l'Homme
and who rescued the crew of the
Dutton,
East India-man, when she was wrecked at Plymouth.”

“Yes, he is an almost legendary character. But he is Commander-in-Chief for the first time and has no easy task. He has about thirty ships in all and has with these to defend all the commerce of India against the French cruisers and privateers.”

“Wouldn't he do better to capture their base?”

“This is, no doubt, what he would prefer to do. But for that he needs the co-operation of the Government of India. They have not so far seen fit to provide the troops. If they were to lose a few Indiamen they might think differently.”

The two sturdy ponies from Acheen in Sumatra were plodding more slowly as the track grew worse. On one side was a pepper plantation, on the other an area of virgin jungle with
immensely tall trees and, beyond them, the distant summit of Penang Hill. Their vehicle stopped for a few minutes while the Malay syce went to inspect the planks of a dubious bridge. It was then that Delancey became aware of the noise, the call of the birds, the continuous sound of the cicadas, the rustle of the treetops. There were also myriad scents, the less acceptable coming from a Chinese hovel by the wayside from which a slant-eyed child gazed at them in solemn wonder. It was hot and humid and the two officers had removed their uniform coats and loosened their cravats. Presently their syce returned and their journey was resumed. Ten minutes later they entered the grounds of Suffolk House, which could be seen on the rise to their left. Delancey and Greenwell now put on their uniforms, adjusted their cravats, and reached for their hats. Curving up the hillside, the drive finally brought them to their destination, a timber-built, palm-thatched, white-painted house in the local style. A veranda surrounded it on the first floor and there was an open-sided room over the carriage port into which their carriage was driven. Indian servants came forward to open the vehicle's door and the visitors were ushered upstairs to find their host awaiting them on the first floor. He was a youngish man with a red face, in shirtsleeves and holding a wine glass.