The Admiral's Daughter

Street—word would be going out already in the Fowey taverns that a King's ship had arrived.

The harbour commissioner's office was at the end of the quays, before the narrow road curved away up a steep slope. Inside, a single light showed. Renzi made his farewell and Kydd went up to the undistinguished door and knocked. A figure appeared, carrying a guttering candle. Before Kydd could say anything the man said gruffly, 'The brig-sloop—come to show y'self. Right?'

'Aye, sir. Commander Thomas Kydd, sloop Teazer, at y' service.' His bow was returned with an ill-natured grunt.

'As I've been waiting for ye!' he grumbled, beckoning Kydd into what appeared to be a musty waiting room illuminated by a pair of candles only. 'Brandy?'

'Are ye the harbour commissioner, sir?' Kydd asked.

'Port o' Fowey t' Lostwithiel an' all outports—Bibby by name, Mr. Bibby to you, Cap'n.' The spirit was poured in liberal measure.

'Might I know why ye've been waitin' for me?' Kydd said carefully.

Bibby snorted and settled further into a leather armchair. 'Ye were sighted in the offing afore y' bore up for Fowey—stands t' reason ye'll want to make y' number with me.' He gulped at his brandy. 'So, in course, I'm a- waiting here for ye.'

Kydd sipped—it was of the finest quality and quickly spread a delicious fire. 'I don't understand. Why—'

Bibby slammed down his glass. 'Then clap y' peepers on those! Y' see there?' he spluttered, gesturing out of the window into the dusk at the lights from the multitude of ships at anchor. 'We're all a-waiting! For you, Mr damn Kydd!'

Kydd coloured. 'I don't see—'

'War's been on wi' Boney for weeks now an' never a sight of a ship o' force as will give 'em the confidence t' put to sea! Where's the navy, Mr Kydd?'

'At sea, where it belongs. An' if I c'n remark it, where's the spirit as keeps a ship bailed up in harbour f'r fear of what's at sea?' Kydd came back.

Bibby paused, then went on gruffly, 'Ye're new on the coast. Let me give ye somethin' t' ponder. Here's a merchant captain, and he has a modest kind o' vessel, say no more'n four, five hunnerd tons. Like all, he's concerned to see his cargo safe t' port, as it says in his papers, but in this part o' the world he's not doin' it for a big tradin' company—no, sir, for in his hold is bulk an' goods from every little farm an' village around and about. Brought down b' pack-mule, ox-wagon and a man's back t' load aboard in the trust it'll get to the Cattewater, Falmouth, the big tradin' ports up-Channel.

'He sails wi' the tide—an' gets took right away by a privateer. That's bad, but what's worse is that these folk o' the humble sort have put all their means into the cargo and now it's lost. No insurance—in time o' war it's ruinous expensive and they can't afford it. So they're done for, sir, quite finished. It may be the whole village is ruined. And the sailors from these parts, their loved 'uns 'll now be without a penny an' on the parish. The ship? She'll be on shares from the same parts, now all lost.

'So you're going down now t' the quay an' tellin' our merchant captain to his face as he's a cowardly knave for preservin' his ship when he knows as there's at least three o' the beasts out there?'

Kydd kept his tone even. 'There's three Frenchy privateers been sighted in these waters? Where was this'n exactly?'

'Well, three ships taken these last two days, stands t' reason. Anyways, one we know, we call the bugger Bloody Jacques on account he doesn't hesitate to murther sailors if'n he's vexed.'

'Then it's one privateer f'r certain only. And I've yet t' see a corsair stand against a man-o'-war in a fair fight, sir,' Kydd said stoutly. But a hundred and fifty miles of coastline defended by himself alone?

However, there was something he could do. He took a deep breath and said, 'An' so we'll have a convoy. I'm t' sail f'r Falmouth presently an' any who wishes may come—er, that is, only deep-water vessels desirous o' protection before joining their reg'lar Atlantic convoy there.'

This was going far beyond his orders, which called only for his assistance to existing convoys chancing through his area. Convoys were formed solely by flag-officers and were complex and troublesome to administer, with their printed instructions to masters, special signals and all the implications of claims of legal responsibility upon the Admiralty once a vessel was under the direction of an escort. By taking it on himself to declare a convoy he had thereby assumed personal responsibility for any vessel that suffered capture and in that case would most surely face the destruction of his career and financial ruin.

'I shall speak with th' masters in the morning, if ye'd be s' good as to pass the word,' Kydd said.

'Nicholas. I've declared a convoy,' Kydd mumbled, through his toast.

'Have you indeed, dear fellow?' Renzi replied, adding more cream to his coffee. 'Er, are you sure this is within the competence of your sloop commander, however eminent?'

Despite his anxiety Kydd felt suddenly joyful. At last! The decision might have been his but never more would he have to face one alone. 'Perhaps not, but can y' think of aught else as will stir 'em t' sea?'

'Teazer is a fine ship, but one escort?'

'I saw a cutter at moorings upriver off Bodinnick—she'll have only a l'tenant-in-command and thusly my junior. Shortly he'll hear that he's now t' sail under my orders.' She would help considerably but it would be little enough escort for the dozen or so deep-water vessels he could see at anchor. If they could get away to sea quickly, though, word of them would not reach the jackals on the other side of the Channel in time.

'So, would ye rouse out every hand aboard c'n drive a quill? I've some instructions f'r the convoy t' be copied, an' I mean to have 'em given out after I talk.' Kydd pushed back his plate and began jotting down his main points: a simple private identifying signal, instructions to be followed if attacked, elementary distress indicators. Vanes, wefts and other arcane features of a proper convoy were an impossibility, but should he consider the customary large numbers painted on each ship's quarter?

HMS Teazer led a streaming gaggle of vessels, all endeavouring eagerly to keep with her in the light winds, past the ruins of Polruan Castle and the ugly scatter of the Punch Cross rocks.

In the open sea, and with the rounded green-grey headland of the Gribbin to starboard, she hove to, allowing