turn7

Summer had finally arrived in Britain – and London was near as deserted, with the Royal Family, several Lords of the Admiralty and most of the E.I.C. bigwigs away to Brighton for their summer hols (where do you think the Americans and the French got the idea? Bloody copycats, the lot of them!). The only social event of note was the funeral of Barr Kin-Madley, hardly a topic for a serious paper. However, I expect that my esteemed rival Mr. C. of the London Gazette will have all the information at his fingertips, down to the names of the horses that drew the hearse.
WKM’s letter did in fact reach the admiralty, but the street urchin employed by ”Baker Street Extremely Irregulars Ltd.” just wrapped it around a stone and chucked it through the window! Well, what did you expect? In my humble opinion, this is what you get if the post office is allowed to be run by private subcontractors. Last I heard, they want to fiddle with the name again, but the owners can’t make up their minds whether to call it ”The Penny Post” or ”Consignia Britannica” ... but I digress. No doubt WKM’s letter will be retrieved in due course, and brought to their Lordships attention (together with other miscellaneous missives) and eventually it will be filed under the letter ”K” (as in ”kindling paper”). And that will be all. If WKM is really waiting for a reply, he’d probably do better watching for the Tooth Fairy!

Meanwhile, the remaining clerks of the Admiralty had a busy month up in the pigeon loft, scribbling coded messages to their agents abroad. All was not well on the Continent. In Denmark, King Hamlet XXIV. had died on Friday the 13th of May, 38 years old and weighting twenty-one stone. He died from natural causes, the bulletin said, but most doctors will call terminal constipation a natural cause in a patient who regularly has six helpings<of everything put on his table! In Paris, Monsieur Robbespierre had made a speech before the Revolutionary Committee, ridiculing the idea to put 200,000 men and 15,000 horses aboard ships at Calais or Dieppe, only to take them off again at Dover. Far better, he had suggested, to dig a tunnel and send them across dry-footed and in perfect order. The Spanish government was rumoured to have declared bankrupty again, but King Carlos IX. nevertheless ordered his Minister of naval affairs to send all ships to the Channel in support of the invasion. ”The English have no cojones. Our allies threated to invade them. The English will stay at home and tremble. Therefore, our Treasure Fleet will be safe.”.
He would have been surprised to learn that the famous Treasure Fleet had been very much in the mind of the First Sea Lord recently. In fact, the thought of how his share from a captured Silver Galleon or two would not only cover his heavy losses at the gaming tables at White’s but also his wife’s dressmaker’s and milliner’s bills was all that had stood between him and cleaning a pistol at his desk. But when he had broached the subject of an expeditionary force at the monthly meeting of the Lords of the Admiralty, Sir Rodney (V.A. of the White) had flatly refused to sail halfway around the world on a wild goose chase just when the Royal Family had sent out invitations for the Brighton Pavilion fund-raising dinner; and Lord Beanpole (V.A. of the Red) had added that the Frogs seemed more ready than ever to pay us a visit and surely nobody in this room wanted another battle of Hastings? In the end, the two senior squadrons had been allowed to stationed themselves off Ramsgate to watch the Frogs (a cushy job, with plenty of opportunity to put a jobbing captain aboard in order to have a bit of fun ashore) while the rest of the fleet had received orders to sail to Gibraltar and to protect British shipping in the Mediterranean. The First Sea Lord’s timid suggestion to send some ships back patrolling the Northern approaches had been brushed aside with a hearty laugh and a joke about Prince ... no, King Hamlet’s ghost. And there the matter had rested.

Nine days later, the combined fleet of the Dutch and Danes sailed up the Thames and began to bombard London. The first shell, no doubt guided by the ghost of King Hamlet himself, landed right in the lap of the 1st Lord of the Admiralty (who was dozing in a deckchair on the balcony outside his office) and exploded before that gentleman had a chance to ring the bell for the porter to fetch a pail of water (best way to put out the fuse). His office, including a fine oriental carpet, a dog of indeterminate pedigree dozing upon it, and a hatstand carved like a treestump with a vulture sitting on it was claimed immediately by the NPC Admiral of the Red, who moved in quietly under cover of the general confusion. Another shell landed in the office of Lord Battersea (V.A. of the White) but instead of ringing the bell in the approved manner that gentleman was out of his chair and through the door in less than three seconds, and down the steps and out of the building in another ten. Unfortunately, he ran into a file of Marines in the courtyard and was promptly arrested for desertion. Sir Rodney will face a court martial next month.

Off Ramsgate, HMS Droits de L’Homme, HMS Ferocious, HMS Richard Lionheart, HMS Sheik Yassouf, HMS Indomitable, HMS Jupiter, HMS Fiddler’s Green and HMS Sweiftsure had sheltered from the increasingly strong north winds under the lee of the castle hill. Their captains did hear about a large number of ships going upriver past Sheerness, but took no steps to verify the rumours. Instead, they accepted Sir Rufus’ invitation to hunt - a bit early in the year, it was true, but Sir Rufus (of Treffry Hall, Aldington, Kent) was the uncle of Lord Ramage and not a man accustomed to have his invitation ignored. They had a good time, too – until the first of several admiralty messengers thundered through the gates of Treffry Hall, followed by a veritable Vice Admiral of the Blue. All ships were ordered to disembark their heaviest guns along with a good number of men to serve them and to send them towards Sheerness, where the guns would be lined up in several batteries along the edge of the river. Teams of mules and oxen to pull the guns as well as carts for powder and ammunition were to be requisitioned locally at once. Meanwhile, the ships would stand out to sea and patrol the southern approaches, in case the French (who must have known about this) took it into their heads to try something. It was a good plan (and earned him a MiD) but by now the wind, still from the northwest, had reached nearly gale strength. As soon as the ships left the shelter of Ramsgate Bay they were relentlessly driven south under bare poles (topgallant masts secured on deck). By consumate seamanship all but HMS Droits de L’Homme scraped past the rocks off South Foreland and continued south until they had Cape Griz Nez on their larboard side. A day and a night of heavy weather, but early in the morning watch the wind began to slacken and veer into the east, even the southeast. The lookout had just hailed the dawn with the traditional cry of ”I see a grey goose at a mile!” when a second shout told them that La Poubelle, the East India merchant who had left London a week earlier (but had apparently dawdled on the way) came pelting up from the southwest ... and she brought company: They had stumbled upon five Spanish capital ships (among them the Maria Santissima da Trinidad) which had been unable to continue their northbound voyage. Aboard La Poubelle, JOG had confidently predicted that they would meet British warships before the Spaniards caught up with them and he won several bets - 1200 Guineas in all. He did not take a wager for the outcome of the battle, however, saying that it might be a close-run thing. And so it was. Holding the weather gage is generally thought of as advantageous, but in this case it meant that the British had little choice but to make straight for the Spanish line of battle, while the Spaniards (ably commanded by Don Castillo de Dolores y Anabella) received them with withering fire (being on the leeward side, they could open their lower gun ports) to which our ships could make no reply. The ensuing battle was fought at close quarters and the butcher’s bill was very long. The captain of HMS Sheik Yassouf had a bet with his 1st Lieutenant that he would personally shoot Don Castillo’s hat off. He did and won 900 Guineas, but lost his 1st Lieutenant. Too bad TB missed all the fun, but he was chained to the bilge pump in punishment (for being drunk and disorderly the previous day). JD was fast asleep when the battle began in earnest, and had just gotten round to shaving himself when it reached its climax (and I will not comment on the state of affairs on the Sheik’s quarterdeck if the ranking Marine can go unmissed at such a time), but he led his Marines in the final charge towards the quarterdeck of the Spanish ship, armed with only his toothbrush!! Such bravery!! Such courage!! He was mentioned in dispatches and will soon exchange into HMS Glenmoranie, to take up command of her Marines detachment. The captain of HMS Indomitable was also mentioned in dispatches, his 1st Lieutenant was both mentioned and promoted (and sent home to take command of the bomb ketch HMS Thunder). HMS Jupiter managed to ram the Santissima Maria da Trinidad (vulgarly known as ”Santy Trinidaddy”) and her 2nd Lieutenant won a promotion for that feat. Her 3rd Lieutenant cooly stepped over the gunwale and into the Spanish captain’s cabin, where he secured 1100 Guineas in jewels. Not to be outdone, HMS Fiddler’s Green also made for the Santissima and caught her just as she turned to deliver a full broadside into the Jupiter’ stem. Her 1st Lieutenant earned a promotion as well (captain of the sloop ship HMS Vulture) and her 2nd Lieutenant was mentioned in dispatches. HMS Swiftsure was really to small to play in that league, but GS asked permission to proceed in the blue cutter with four dozen men. Dodging cannon balls and musketry fire, his reckless bravery won him a promotion – his rank of lieutenant was made permanent. As for the unlucky HMS Droits de L’Homme, both her lieutenants earned kudus for their skill in getting the ship afloat again, and so did JA (who has since exchanged into HMS Sheik Yassouf), but her captain must face a court martial next month.

Meanwhile, the ships destined for Gibraltar had rounded Cape Ferrol and run down the Portugese coast, but the southeast winds now prevailing did not allow them to be turn east for Gibraltar. Several times they had tried to beat up against the wind, but in vain. All hopes of a rapid journey were long gone, and their water was getting scarce, when the lookout hailed ”Ships ahead!” Two fat-bellied Silver galleons, nearly as big as the Santissima Maria da Trinidad. And no easy prey either - what they lacked in the article of guns they more than made up by the number of soldiers aboard. And you didn’t fire on a Silver galleon in any case (unless you wanted to kill off the circling sharks by showering them with pieces of eight).

How to describe the battle? The Spanish ships (named Don Esteban and La Cucaracha) were like big, lumbering beasts making a last stand amid a large pack of hunting dogs. Smaller but nimbler; the British ships would come up hand over fist, fire a broadside of grapeshot into the soldiers waiting on deck of the Spaniards (in order to repel a boarding attack), spin around and race away again. Time and again, until they had cut down the odds. Then HMS Waakzamheit made the signal ”Engage the enemy more closely” and ships came racing in for the kill from every point of the compass. A good many men were killed, but the rewards were of a truly lavish scale – here’s an exerpt from the official list: Captain HMS Berwickshire: 1200 Guineas. 2nd Lieutenant HMS Bellerophone: 700 Guineas. 3rd Lieutenant HMS Mars (AG): 1800 Guineas. Captain HMS Halycon:1600 Guineas. 1st Lieutenant HMS Halycon:1300 Guineas. Captain HMS Belle Poule (FF) 1100 Guineas. 1st Lieutenant HMS Belle Poule 500 Guineas. Captain HMS Alexander: 1300 Guineas.Captain HMS Salisbury 1800 Guineas. 1st Lieutenant HMS Surprise 1200 Guineas.
When the news reached London, the crowds went wild – there was dancing in the street, and bonfires, and many transparencies showing (or at least purporting to show) the highlights of the encounter, such as the moment when the foremast of the Don Esteban went overboard, or when the mortally wounded captain of La Cucaracha surrended his sword. But nothing will ever substitute the real thing in the hearts and minds of those who were present, and did what they did, and won the admiration of their country thereby!

Issue 4 by J.C.

It is a sad event that opens my regular epistle this month – the funeral of Barr Kin-Madley. A very popular man and a merchant of good standing, the magnificent church of St Sepulchre Without was packed to the rafters with gentlemen and ladies wishing to pay their last respects, and to pass their condolences on to Pore, his widow, and his two sons, Wayne and Farr. Wayne spoke with clarity, a eulogy that touched the hearts of all present, and I will not dilute the moment by reprinting his words here. Pore sat silently by, comforted by Farr, gratefully accepting the best wishes of the mourners. With so many gentlemen of note currently at sea it was gratifying to see that many of their mistresses were there to pass on kind words in their stead. I noted Agnes Nutter and Diana Villiers passing on messages of condolence from Jonah Albytross and Tyler Brock respectively.

It is in a slightly different vein we also bid a fond farewell (for the time being at least) to another colourful character from the city – John O’Groats has sailed on La Poubelle with the East India Company. It would seem to the casual observer that almost all of the working girls from south of the river had turned up at St Katherine’s Dock to wave him off and bid him ”Bon Voyage”. The girls, in various states of dress, stood tearfully by the quayside waving what I originally thought to be handkerchiefs, but later discovered were in fact various items of underwear, calling ”come back to us soon” and ”try not to catch anything nasty”. I am rather hoping that John will be able to forward notes from his diary to The Gazette so that we can keep all his friends updated as to his exploits in foreign waters. All the staff here wish him well.

As we are on the subject of the East India Company you may be wondering as to why there is no mention of Jonah Albytross on the crew list of La Poubelle as he was last seen asleep on the front step of the Company office. Well, word I hear is that while he was there a group of Marines from his own ship, The Droits de l’Homme happened upon him and assuming that he was still sleeping off the hospitality of Tyler Brocks’ Chinese party promptly commandeered a barrow from a local grocer headed for market and, without waking him, transported Jonah back to the dock. He awoke to find himself on the Sheik Yassouf headed out to sea. Better luck next time Jonah. It does seem that fate can play cruel tricks when it decides to, and the party at the Pit did not go according to the original plan of Wayne Kin-Madley. Due to the start of the Campaign season, unfortunately no members of society were available to attend the party and it

looked for a time as if all the plans of Wayne and Emma would be wasted - indeed Emma looked close to tears. Wayne was however determined that the arrangements and food should not go to waste and invited all the staff of The Pit to join him in toasting the memory of his father who passed away last month and then entertained all the staff and visitors of the club for the rest of the evening.
Wayne did make a short speech, and dedicated the evening to his father: ”Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for attending my little get together. Some of you may think it inappropriate for me to be partying so soon after the death of my father, but let me assure you that Barr Kin-Madley was not a man who would want a wailing and gnashing of teeth to mark his passing. The family have limited themselves to one week of mourning and are now celebrating the life of Barr. I therefore dedicate tonight to my father and simply regret that he is not here to enjoy it with us. Please raise your glasses in a toast to Barr Kin-Madley”. A rousing ”Hear, Hear” from all present made it clear that Barr was a well thought of man and Wayne an excellent host.

(this was published in the TIMES. The original letter was delivered by hand to the Admiralty the morning after Wayne's party)

Sirs,
What has gone wrong at The Admiralty? 'A strong question', I hear you cry, 'what is this chap talking about?' Well let me explain....
When I arrived in London the first thing I did, before even finding lodgings, was to sign up to fight for King and Country. An offer you were only too keen to accept, and I set off the following month on the ship BELLE POULE. When this fine ship was captured and I was returned to London with my shipmates I knew that it might take some time to get back to sea. No matter, I thought, I will see some of the sights and then be back at sea soon. Has this happened? NO.
Every other gentleman in London worthy of the name has been reassigned to His Majesties Fleet except me. WHY?
Is my valour or character in question? I hope not. Believe me, in my hometown most of the men would like to be Wayne Kin-Madley. I believe that the children have been known to pretend to be me, as I have heard more than one mother of a fine young lad saying 'I caught young Kevin the other day, he was Wayne Kin-Madley again. (What a fine young chap he must be!).
You sirs, by leaving me in London have brought my courage and patriotism into doubt. I expect a full explanation and public apology at once and I suggest a promotion to recompense me for this embarrassment.

Sir Rodney, Vice admiral of the White, will face court martial in September, upon the charge of deserting his post of duty while under attack.
Captain N6 of HMS Droits de L’Homme will face court martial in September, upon the charge of neglecting his duty by loitering ashore.

First call for E.I.C. Shangri-La to the Far East, sailing date 1st of September 1791. Applications for the position of captain welcome.