A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

The gun crews were again working frantically to reload, the hours of gun drill proving their worth.  Now they were passing the stern of the Indiaman and the second a
ttacker came into view.

“
As your guns bear” roared Merriman. Again the ship trembled as the cannon thundered, the shot tearing into those men still aboard the corsair. Merriman felt his hat plucked off his head by a musket ball and saw a seaman fall by one of the guns, his eyes wide with shock and his shout of agony cut off by the blood pouring from his mouth and splashing over the other men in the gun crew.  In the heat of the action they took no notice and simply dragged him out of their way.  Their reaction would come later.

The simpleton Biggins was clinging to the ratlines, shaking his cutlass at the enemy and screaming curses at them. 
“Bastard French buggers, I’ll skewer you all, I’ll cut your bleedin’ ‘eads off, I’ll …….!”  He carried on telling them what he was going to do to them until  two seamen dragged him down, still cursing, into the dubious shelter of the ship’s bulwarks.

“
Keep down you silly sod, you’ll get yerself killed,” shouted one, “they’re not French, they’re bleedin’ pirates.”

Merriman
observed this with part of his mind while still alive to what was going on about him.  “Mr. Jones, have the larboard battery loaded with grape-shot again, then we’ll lay her alongside and board,” he roared above the noise.

As the ship turned and lost way
when the sheets were loosened to spill the wind from the sails, midshipman Andrews was flung backwards onto the deck.  He struggled to his feet clutching at his shoulder, blood running down his arm as Merriman steadied him.

“
Get below Mr Andrews and have that wound attended to.”

“
Can’t I stay Sir, please.  I want to see -----.”

“
Do as you are told boy” said Merriman, “That’s an order.”

Looking forr-ard Merriman could see the naked sweating backs of his gunners waiting to fire, whilst the rest of the crew ga
thered in their allotted boarding parties clutching their cutlasses and pistols.  Others ready with grapnels to fasten the ships together.

“
‘ere Sir, you’ll be needing this,”  said a burly seaman, handing him a cutlass.  Merriman realized that his own sword was still hanging, forgotten, in his cabin. As they crashed alongside the guns flamed again, the grapnels were thrown and then the two ships were locked together.

“
Now lads, boarders away” yelled Merriman.  As he leapt across and down onto the enemy deck he glimpsed Lieutenant Jones, sword in hand, leading his boarding party from the foredeck.

He parried a sword wielded by a turbanned Arab and sliced the man across t
he neck, a seaman by Merriman screamed as a spear was thrust into his stomach, his assailant immediately falling to a vicious slash from another seaman.  Merriman felt splashes of blood and matter across his face as a seaman brained a screaming negro with a boarding axe.  There was no time for fancy swordsmanship.  All was confusion, it was cut and slash, thrust and parry, stamping forward, slipping on pools of blood, stumbling over bodies and parts of bodies that yet twitched and writhed, with shouts and screams of fear and agony ringing in his ears.  Then suddenly they were across the corsair’s deck with the Indiaman’s side rearing above them.

Up they went, wild with fear and rage, men grappling with each other, stabbing and hacking in a fury, up onto the
deck where the Indiaman’s passengers and crew, now fewer in number, had retreated to the poop deck and were hemmed in by the enemy.

Merriman hurled himself forward with the rest of his men, something hit his left arm and head a ferocious blow and he found
himself lying on the deck, looking up to see two seamen astride him fighting like demons to protect him.  One was Biggins, laying about him with a bloody axe in one hand and a bent cutlass in the other, still screaming his hatred of the French, before falling to a pike thrust through his thigh.  And then it was over, the corsairs were either dead or leaping overboard to escape the ready swords of the victors.  Merriman climbed to his feet with the help of the brawny seaman who had defended him.  He stood there swaying, trying to force his dazed mind to comprehend that he was still alive.

“
Mr. Jones, how many have we lost,” he asked.

“
Mr. Jones is dead Sir” said a voice behind him.

A tall gentleman, elegant despite the sweat and blood on his attire and still
holding a bloodied sword, stepped in front of him.

“
I am Lord Stevenage Sir.  I must thank you for your most timely arrival.  We had almost despaired when your ship was sighted but that gave us hope to hold on and keep on fighting.  May I congratulate you and your men on a most gallant rescue.”  The voice seemed to come from a long way away.

“
Lieutenant Merriman my Lord, I am pleased to be of service to you Sir, I hope that -----”.   He swayed, everything whirled round and he heard a voice cry “Catch him” before all went black. ....................

As he recounted the details of the fight with the two vessels attacking the Indiaman, Merriman could see from the gleam in his father
’s eye that he was following the narrative with keen attention, and as for Matthew, his wide eyes and open mouth were as Merriman himself must have looked when listening to his grandfather’s stories.

“
And that was all I remember” said Merriman to his Father.  “I came to my senses three days later. I had lost my First Lieutenant and friend Alan Jones, my Second Lieutenant Mr. Hamer, the bo’sn and fifteen seamen.  Many more were injured including Mr. Andrews the midshipman.  The Indiaman had lost her captain, twelve crew and several male passengers.”

Young Matthew was staring at him with
awe and his Father’s eyes were staring into the distance, no doubt he was remembering sea fights in his own career.

“
But how did you lose your ship.” persisted Matthew.

“
In another gale,” he replied.  “We stayed alongside the Indiaman whilst the survivors of both ships made repairs to the Indiaman’s masts and rigging.  It appears that the ship’s captain, in the interest of making a fast voyage, had held his canvas on too long and lost his topmasts as a result.  If he hadn’t, the corsairs wouldn’t have caught him.”

“
We had no further trouble from them.  The first one had sunk, the second one was too badly damaged to be worth much, besides, we were too short handed to spare a prize crew, so that one was set afire.  None of the remaining Algerians survived.  Those who hadn’t been killed were swiftly taken by sharks when they jumped overboard.”

Merriman paused for a moment or two. 
“I’m glad I didn’t see that,  he said reflectively.  “Anyway, as soon as we were able we sailed together for Gibraltar. On that night it began to blow and by the following morning it was a full gale.  I was unconscious in my bunk, there were no officers left and Mr. Andrews and a master’s mate were in command of the depleted crew with the help of Mr. Dalkeith, the youngest midshipman, only fourteen years old.  They were desperately short handed and exhausted.”

“
On the second night the wind veered suddenly and the ship was taken all aback, loosing the foremast and main topmast which trailed alongside.  Before they could be cut loose they’d pounded a hole in the ship’s side.”

“
By dawn it was obvious that the ship couldn’t be saved, the crew was exhausted and the sea was gaining over the pumps.  Mr. Andrews, to his credit, decided to abandon ship before she sank.  Fortunately the Indiaman was still nearby and was able to take us all aboard.”

“
By the Gods, James, that was a wonderful account,” exclaimed the elder Merriman, “It reflects great credit on you and your crew.  That young Midshipman, what’s his name? --- Andrews, he did well.”

Merriman nodded,
“Yes he did, very well.  The more so when you remember that he was wounded and in pain all the time.  He kept his wits about him and even remembered to go to my cabin to collect my orders and the documents we were carrying, before abandoning ship.  But his activities didn’t end there.  When we arrived in Gibraltar he took himself off to the port Admiral and made a verbal report, following which the Admiral ordered myself and the rest of my crew brought ashore.”

“
Had you not recovered your senses by then?” asked Matthew.

“
No” replied Merriman, “I developed a fever and can vaguely remember thrashing around in a cot and Owen holding me down whilst the surgeon from the flagship probed, cut and sewed and bandaged me up.”

His father nodded
, “This man Owen seems to have attached himself to you.”

Merriman smiled,
“Yes, I don’t know how he did it, but when the rest of the men from my crew were sent to other ships, he remained and has acted as my servant ever since.  He can’t read or write and he isn’t an imaginative man but it seems that his honesty and loyalty have been proven.  He is a first rate seaman and obviously a tremendous fighter as he is one of the two men who protected me when I received my injury.”

“
He may not be imaginative as you say, but I think that he had the wit to realize that you are an officer likely to go far and he could do worse than attach himself to you.”

“
Then what happened?” asked his brother.

“
Several days later I was well enough to write a full report for the Admiral, after which I was transferred to the flagship to await the inevitable court-martial.”

Matthew groaned,
“Oh, it seems so unfair after all you had done.”

“
Naval regulations,” said his father.  “Whenever a King’s ship is lost from any cause, the captain always faces a court-martial.  However I gather that yours went well James.”

“
Indeed Father, I was very fortunate. My report had been seen by the officers called to form the court and they questioned Mr. Andrews and  Master’s mate Varley very closely on all the events that had happened. I felt from the demeanour of the court that I might survive, but the biggest surprise was still to come.  A note was handed to the chairman of the court, Admiral Stokes, which raised his eyebrows.  ‘Permit the gentleman to enter and find him a seat,’ he ordered.’”

“
When the gentleman was seated and the chattering of the spectators had been stilled, the Admiral spoke.”

‘
I believe My Lord, that you have something to say in Lieutenant Merriman’s defence. You may address the court Sir.’

‘
Thank you’ said the new arrival, rising to his feet.  ‘I am William D’Ablay, fourth Lord Stevenage and I was a passenger on the Indiaman. There is no doubt that I and all aboard that unfortunate ship would have perished but for the gallant service performed by Lieutenant Merriman and his ship and crew.  I cannot commend him highly enough for his actions and I do not believe that this court would wish to deprive His Majesty’s Navy of such a brave and competent officer.’ “

Continued Merriman
“After that the court retired and when I was brought in again I knew immediately that I was cleared.”

Matthew broke in impulsively,
“How did you know that James?”

Merriman grinned,
“Because my sword was on the table and the hilt of it was towards me.  If I’d been found guilty then the point would have been towards me.  Then the Admiral announced that all charges were dismissed and he commended me in the warmest possible terms.  After the court had adjourned he told me that he was promoting Mr. Andrews immediately to Lieutenant although he had not yet taken his examination,  and both Mr. Varley and Mr. Dalkeith would have favourable mention in their records.”

“
All ended happily then,” said his father, “The very fact that Andrews was promoted shows approval of your actions.  You made a good friend in Lord Stevenage and that could help you in the future, of that I have no doubt.  As they say ‘A friend in court makes the process short’.  When your wound has fully healed and you are ready for sea service again, he may have some influence on your career.  And now I can see that you are both tired, so let us be off to our beds.”

As he prepared for bed, Merriman wondered if he would have any kind of future in the Navy.  He was asleep
as soon as his head touched the pillow.

When he had finished one of Annie’s huge breakfasts the next morning, Merriman announced his intention of taking a ride to some of his old haunts along the side of the river Dee and up towards Neston and Parkgate on the estuary.  It was a beautiful morning, but a cold one and in the clear air the hills and mountains of Wales could easily be seen.  Further up the estuary he observed a few brave souls risking the hazardous crossing over the sands from Flint to Shotwick on foot, as people had been doing for centuries.

He had covered several miles when he observed a lady
and gentleman walking ahead of him.  As he drew level with them he saw that they were his fellow travellers on the journey from London, Doctor Simpson and his daughter Helen.

“
Good morning to you,” greeted the doctor, “Won’t you dismount and walk with us for a while?”

“
Gladly, Sir,” he replied, “I fear that I have ridden too far already, judging by my aches and pains.  It’s too long since I sat a horse and naval life gives little opportunity for riding.”

He turned to the girl,
“Good morning Ma’am, I hope you are recovered from the fatigues of the journey?”

She smiled
“Indeed I am Sir, although my father is less so and is feeling somewhat tired.”

The Doctor smiled ruefully,
“Helen’s right, I’ve been too eager to show the area to her. It is many years since my late wife and I left here and our daughter was born in India.  Sadly my wife died some five years ago and I had promised her that I would bring Helen home.”  He winked at Merriman, “And find her a rich husband.”

“
I am sorry to hear of your loss Sir,” replied Merriman, “But you should have little difficulty in finding your daughter a husband for she is certainly a fine young lady.”

The young lady in question spoke immediately,
“I will thank you not to talk of me as if I were not here, as if I was a piece of merchandise to be sold!” and she stamped her foot in anger.

“
I will not be pushed into a marriage which I do not want.”

Merriman cursed himself for his tactlessness while the Doctor hastily tried to calm his daughter down.  He turned to Merriman, 
“I apologize for my daughter Sir, life in India and the lack of a mother to provide an example have caused her to be more outspoken than becomes a lady.”  The Doctor continued, “We live close by, may I invite you in for a glass of something to warm you for the return journey?”

Merriman looked at Helen who was standing with her back to them,
“Thank you Sir, for the invitation, but I think that this may not be the right time.”  He mounted his horse and turned for home.  “Good-day to you Sir, Ma’am.”

As he rode
, Merriman found himself thinking about Helen Simpson. “
There
was a young lady of spirit, good looking too.  She would make some fortunate man a fine wife.  But not me
,” he sneered at himself.  “
What could you offer such a girl,  a handicapped naval officer on half pay with poor chances of employment or promotion. She could do far better for herself, plenty of young men of the gentry far wealthier than me who would be eager to know her.  Forget her you fool, she wouldn’t even consider you.
”  Even as he spoke to himself thus, he could not forget her;  anger had made her dark eyes flash and they swam before him in his mind’s eye.  He did not know it then, but he was to become much better acquainted with her.

When he arrived back home he found his man Owen wait
ing for him, looking fidgety and unusually nervous. It appeared that his family, at least his mother and younger brother, lived somewhere along the North Wales coast and he was eager to go and see them for a few days.

“
But only if you can spare me Sir, and I’ll come back Sir, honest I will.  I won’t run.”  It was not unusual for seamen in those days, given the chance, to desert or ‘run’ in naval parlance.

Merriman grunted
“I know that, man.  I’ll give you a letter to show that you are away by my leave, and here’s a guinea to see you on your way.”

“
Diolch yn fawr, thank you Sir, thank you.”  They went into the house and Merriman wrote a brief note as he had promised “Now be off with you. I look to see you back in three or four days.”

Going into the main room of the house he found his father in earnest conversation with a number of distinguished looking gentlemen in front of the fire.  He was apologizing for the interruption when his father said,
“Never mind that James, I want you to meet these gentlemen and learn of our problems.”

“
Gentlemen, this is my son James of whom I have been telling you.”  They immediately rose and came forward to shake his hand.

The elder Merriman made the introductions. It was apparent that they were all men o
f consequence in the district, land-owners, magistrates, wealthy merchants and the like.  The senior customs official from Chester was also present and was introduced as Mr.Flitwick.

“
Now James,” said Captain Merriman when they were all settled again, “We have been discussing the serious situation that has developed here in this part of the County of Chester and in North Wales. Things are beginning to get out of hand with the damned smugglers.  Oh, I know what you are going to say James, we have always had smugglers along the coast.  But things have changed in the time you have been away.”

“
In the past, most of us have considered it the duty of the revenue service to catch smugglers and the duty of those of us who are magistrates to punish them if they were caught. 

Nobody was unduly concerned, even the merchants, as there was no evidence of a great volume of smuggled goods.  If we found the odd bottle of good French brandy on the back doorstep it was accepted as simply a form of tribute, but even that has s
topped.”

“
The smugglers used to go to great lengths to avoid any contact with the Revenue men, but now they are openly aggressive.”

“
Yes”, broke in Mr.Gordon, a small man with a rubicund face who had been introduced as a landowner and magistrate from nearby Neston, “You will not have heard about the latest outrage. The Revenue cutter
Pilote
was anchored just off the Point of Air and snugged down for the night when it was attacked.  All aboard were killed except for a boy who got away in a boat  Of course a search was started but all that was found were corpses washed up on the shore.  The ship has disappeared.”

“
When was this?” asked Merriman.

“
Why, only two weeks ago.  The boy was found by fishermen and brought ashore. He had a pistol ball in his shoulder and was suffering from cold and wet, but he recovered sufficiently to be able to tell what had happened.  Apparently one of the seamen jumped over the side with him and got him into the boat but was killed before they were clear.  The boy is still alive but very ill.”

“
It’s unbelievable,” said another man, a merchant from Chester, “To think that these cursed smugglers can get away with murder and piracy so near to authority.”

“
How do you know it’s the same smugglers to blame?” asked Merriman, “I cannot understand why they would change so much after years of trying to be secretive.  Couldn’t it be another gang of ruffians altogether?”

“
There, what did I say” said his father.  “James has hit the nail on the head.  A good honest smuggler is one thing, but these men are vicious. Besides, why would smugglers steal the Revenue cutter which is so well known in these waters?”

“
I don’t know, but the Free Trade as they call it is not as profitable as it was since the Consolidation of Duties Act was passed back in “87 and since then the Government has reduced many duties still further,” put in Mr. Green, a thin man,  possessor of a large paunch, who was another merchant and magistrate from Chester.  “Also you mustn’t forget that piracy is no new thing in the Irish sea, although there has been none in recent years.  Perhaps they intend to sell their prize. I remember that in March of 1780 two packet boats belonging to the post office, the
Hillsborough
and the
Bessborough
were captured by a privateer, the
Black Prince,
I believe, under an Irish captain and flying the American flag.”

“
Yes, but we were at war with the Americans then and you must admit that it was an audacious move by that captain.  It cost the post office well over a thousand pounds to buy their property back..”

“
Gentlemen, if I may suggest!”  As all eyes turned towards him, Merriman said thoughtfully, “The stolen cutter is actually a small ship of war armed with a few six-pounder cannon and some swivel guns, and with a crew of perhaps thirty or forty men, is that not so?”

Several heads nodded so he continued,
“It occurred to me that to capture such a prize would take an exceptionally large, well organized gang, certainly one with a very capable leader.”

“
Further, they must have been planning their attack for some time and knew in advance where the cutter would be, how many men aboard, maybe even their state of readiness to repel an attack..”

Merriman warmed to his theme. 
“Do you know if the cutter regularly anchored at that point or were it’s movements made at random?”

“
At random I believe,” said Merriman senior, “I spoke to the unfortunate officer in command only a few weeks ago, and he said that he tried to make his movements erratic so that smugglers might be taken by surprise, but Point of Air was one of his favourite anchorages.  Poor man, it was he and his crew that were taken by surprise.”

“
That argues that someone in the revenue service may be passing information to the gang, or at least someone who has access to that information, maybe even a member of the crew of the cutter.  Have there been any other strange or unusual happenings recently that may have some connection?”

“
Nothing that I can think of,” said the man with the paunch,

“
Nothing that is except for the usual trouble with the spalpeens.”

“
Spalpeens, what are they?” asked Merriman.

“
Irish labourers,” was the reply.  “Half naked many of them, barefoot even.  They come over to find work on the land, usually most of them in the Autumn for the harvest, but you can find some at almost any time.  Many of them actually walk from here down to the south of the country.  If they can’t find work they are reduced to begging and thieving until they are rounded up to be sent back to Ireland.  The law classes them as rogues and vagabonds, even the women and children, and they’re kept in a House of Correction at Parkgate or Neston until a ship can be found to take them back.”

“
Are they a great problem then?”

“
Not a great problem, but I confess I feel sorry for them.  They are so desperately poor and they hope to earn cash money to pay their rents as cash is in short supply in Ireland.  Those that do find work aren’t paid much and their unluckier fellows are quite ready to rob them.”

“
Ireland has been a thorn in England’s flesh for centuries,”  said another voice.  “Though I must say that some of the grasping English landlords over there treat their tenants worse than cattle, causing more resentment and storing up worse trouble for the future I’ll be bound.  And then there’s the French.”

“
The French,” repeated Merriman, “What have they got to do with this?  We aren’t at war now.”

“
Probably nothing, but we all know that you can’t trust the French.  I have it on good authority that French agents used to land in Ireland and then slip over to England during the recent war and they are at it again, I’ll be bound.  I agree that they are very busy cutting off people’s heads at present, but there’ll be war with France again before long.  You mark my words!”

“
Well, Sir , You may well be right,” replied Merriman, “but to return to the stolen Revenue cutter.  Doesn’t it seem likely that the people who took it may have a purpose beyond that of handicapping the Revenue men?  That they may need to actually use the vessel for some nefarious purpose other than running a few bales of silk and barrels of French brandy.  After all, they have managed up until now with simple fishing boats.”

“
Gentlemen, I believe James has the right of it again,” said his father,  “A fresh mind brought to our problem is what we needed and now we have it.  Well done James.”

There were murmurs of agreement from around the room and the Revenue Officer, Mr Flitwick, who had not yet spoken, said
“I quite agree with what your son has suggested.  There must be something different behind this affair and somebody organizing the criminals who is in a position to know what the Revenue intend to do.”

“
The difficulty is finding out what we need to know.  I’ve had Riding Officers out along both sides of the estuary but nobody knows anything, or is too frightened to tell what they know.   Two weeks since the tragedy happened and we’re no nearer to finding out who the damned culprits are than we were then.  All the local constables are making enquiries as well, but nothing has come of it.  Neither have there been any sightings of the vessel.  I’m at my wits end to know what to do next.”