Thomas Grey & The Year Without Summer

Thomas Grey & The Year Without Summer

 

Peter Argonis

 

© 2021, 2025

All Rights Reserved by the Author

Synopsis

Thomas and Mirabel are finally reunited when the catastrophic crop failures of 1816 require him to protect his estate from looming starvation. He also becomes popular as an anti-slavery writer and is sent to the Barbary Coast again to battle his arch enemy's successor. Interesting times, indeed.

First posted at storiesonline.net in 2021; now in a revised and re-edited version.

 

Contents

1. The Scholar

2. A Long Winter

3. To The Last Shot

4. A Mother's Sacrifice

5. The Legion of Honour

6. A Long Winter’s End

Acknowledgement

Appendix 1: Sail plan of a full-rigged ship

Appendix 2: Ranks in the Royal Navy

Appendix 3: Administrative Structure of the Royal Navy ca. 1800

Appendix 4: Rated and unrated ships and vessels

Appendix 5: Watches and times

Appendix 6: Nautical terms

—————

 

1. The Scholar

August 1815

"Permission to leave ship, Captain?" Sir Thomas Grey asked. Captain James Edward Conroy had just read himself in as HMS Clyde's new captain, and Thomas was now on half pay.

"Permission granted, Sir Thomas," Conroy replied formally.

Thomas saluted the quarterdeck and turned, leaving the ship through the port and climbing down into the rented barge that already held his personal items, his servant Broderick, and Mister Midshipman Leeds for whom his father, a powerful director in the East India Company, had arranged a shore posting. The freshly replenished cabin stores and the furniture left behind by his predecessor remained with the ship, as did Pillard, the captain's steward. Conroy had happily reimbursed Thomas for the cabin stores, and the £ 54 in his pocket would serve Thomas much better than the bulky provisions, which he would not need in the foreseeable future.

As the boat shoved off, Thomas settled in the stern sheets, planning his next moves. Mirabel, his wife, was staying at their manor house near Guildford where she had given birth to their first own child, a girl named Margaret, which Thomas had yet to see, as he had spent the spring and summer patrolling and blockading the French coast in the Clyde frigate during the former Emperor Napoleon's Reign of the Hundred Days.

One of his last actions had been the capture of a French brigantine with a number of imperial officers, who after Napoleon's surrender had attempted to flee from France to Martinique, likely planning to continue the fight for the imperial cause from there. In the event, Thomas had personally rescued the paramour of the ringleader from drowning, after the ruthless man had dropped her overboard in the vain hope of delaying the British frigate sufficiently to make his escape. Now the young woman, Jeanne Dumoulin by name and an aspiring actress, had proven to be an important witness against the man, forcing him to reveal his plot and his co-conspirators. For this, Thomas was told to expect recognition and awards.

His plan for now was to return to Guildford and to his family, reversing the plans for Mirabel and their daughters — they had an adopted daughter of 13 years named Teresa — to come to London. His presence in London was not required anymore, and Mirabel had answered his letter, asking him to be patient as young Teresa had fallen from a tree, badly spraining her ankle, and requiring her to rest her leg for a fortnight. It was easier for him to take the post chaise to Portsmouth and alight at Guildford, and he had written another letter to Mirabel urging her to stay at their home.

For the coming two nights, he would make use of his membership in the St. Croix gentleman's club where he had secured one of the guest rooms, whilst his dunnage would be entrusted to one of the barges plying the trade along the Wey Navigation canal, likely to arrive in Guildford on the same day as he.

At the landing, he bid his farewell to young Owen Leeds.

"Here is where our ways must part, Mister Leeds. Please give my regards to your parents, but also to the lovely Miss Curry!"

"Thank you, Sir Thomas, for all the example and guidance you gave me," Leeds answered nicely. "Please convey my fondest greetings to my sister."

His sister, Daisy Leeds, was visiting Grey Manor over the summer, together with Angela Benning, Thomas and Mirabel's honorary aunt, and both were still living there as far as Thomas knew.

"I shall convey your greetings. I trust that your wedding plans will now move forward?"

Leeds was engaged to the young daughter of an American captain and shipowner. The girl had been a passenger in the Clyde frigate after they had captured her father's ship, back in the summer of 1814. Now, with peace established between the British and the Americans, his future father in law was free again.

"Oh, yes, Sir Thomas. Miss Curry left no doubt that she expects me to remain in London for the months to come."

"Only a fool would act against her wishes, Mister Leeds," Thomas laughed, remembering Leeds's fiancée fondly. "You are to be counted lucky."

"Thank you, Sir Thomas, but I know this already. I also ask you to convey my respectful greetings to Lady Grey."

On that note they parted company. Thomas secured the services of a porter, to bring his sea chest to the St. Croix gentlemen's club, whilst Broderick hired another porter to transport his other possessions to a barge headed for Guildford. Thomas reached the club just before noon, in time to freshen up in his room and join the other members in presence for the noon meal.

In the dining room, he saw a group of Navy officers assembling at a table, and seeing his uniform, they invited him to join them. Of course, he accepted and introduced himself.

"Sir Thomas Grey, late of the Clyde frigate."

"John Fitzgerald Seymour, White Squadron," the rear admiral presiding over the group answered. "Didn't you capture that bullion ship on the Andalusian coast, back in '12?"

Thomas admitted that he did, having accepted by now that his capture of a French general's war booty would forever be seen as his most prominent achievement.

"Reginald Brewster, late of Superb," another captain announced himself, and Thomas assured him of the honour he felt.

"Duncan MacRae, late of Andromeda, Sir Thomas," the youngest of the trio, still a junior captain, proclaimed. "I believe you commanded Andromeda once?"

Thomas sat down before he answered. "Indeed. I was 3rd lieutenant in her, and when she was crippled by lightning, I had to sail her en flute to Bristol for repairs."

"And a damn shame 'twas that they wasted time and good money on a wreck," MacRae opined, not mincing words at all.

"Yes, I heard that they performed a shoddy job on her," Thomas agreed. "She's laid up now?"

MacRae shook his head. "She's being broken up at Sheerness."

Seymour joined the conversation then. "Clyde was one of the ships blockading the French coast, wasn't she?"

"Yes, Sir. We were present when Napoleon surrendered to Captain Maitland."

"That must've been a sight," Brewster exclaimed. "So, Clyde is laid up in ordinary?"

"No, I was relieved by Captain Conroy this morning. She'll be patrolling Saint Helena to watch over Boney. I shall return to my Surrey home shortly. There is a little girl who was born in May, and I am anxious to see her for the first time."

Talk then turned to the fate of the late emperor Napoleon and to the latest developments on the Continent whilst the foursome enjoyed a three-course meal and two bottles of a fine Bordeaux vintage. The proprietor, the Marquis de Saint-Croix, allowed no Madeira wines, nor sherries or port wines in his club, rather paying and charging outrageous prices for French wines and brandies. With Seymour paying, Thomas had no objections.

After the dessert, the four gentlemen retired to the smoking room where Admiral Seymour acquainted them with an old brandy wine from the Marquis's own ancestral dominions in the French Cognac region. It was indeed a heavenly treat, and an illuminating conversation.

Thomas had to recount the battle against the Algerian fourth-rate ship-of-the-line An-Nasr for the benefit of his fellow officers, following which he received an interesting news.

"Yon fellow, Haji Ali, the Dey, he was murdered by his own soldiery this spring," Captain Brewster supplied. "His successor did not even survive his first month on the throne before he, too, was strangled by his Janissaries. Personally, I'd rather patrol Saint Helena than be the Dey of Algiers."

"Haji Ali is dead, Sir? That is a relief. You have to know that the man held me responsible for his rascally son’s death and plotted against me and even against my wife. I deem this good news."

When the company broke up, Thomas bid a cordial farewell to his fellow captains and a respectful one to Admiral Seymour, before he retired to his room for a brief nap.

He woke up, an hour later, feeling refreshed. Outside, the afternoon sun was shining and the air was balmy. Thomas quickly dressed and left the club for a stroll, enjoying the exercise and the sights. He walked as far as Temple Gardens and then returned walking along the river till Whitehall. From there it was just a short walk back to the St. Croix, but on the way he found a public house where he had ale and a sandwich made of delicious, soft bread. For a man used to eating hardtack, fresh bread was close to heaven.

He had a light supper at the club after which he settled in the study where he perused the available newspapers, whilst enjoying a pint of French cider and a soft cheese the waiter called Camembert. It was indeed a wonderful combination and a welcome change from the time-honoured Port wine and Caerphilly cheese. At the suggestion of the waiter, he then closed the evening with a glass of apple brandy from Normandy, after which he retired to his room, sated and pleasantly tired.

He slept a deep, dreamless sleep and only woke up when the rays of the morning sun illuminated his room. He worked the bell pull, which connected to the upstairs servants' quarters, and apparently alerted Broderick, for he responded within less than five minutes. One of the house servants brought warm water, giving Thomas the rare pleasure of a fresh water shave administered by Broderick.

A pot of steaming hot coffee was delivered next, along with fried eggs (fresh!) and fried bacon. It was a breakfast fit for a king, and Thomas took his time to enjoy it. Feeling magnanimous, Thomas gave Broderick the rest of the day off, but also a four-guineas premium for his excellent services, allowing the man to enjoy the amenities of the huge city. Broderick thanked him profusely and would not leave before having laid out Thomas's shirt, breeches, stockings and cravat, and brushing out his uniform coat and cocked hat.

Properly dressed, Thomas then walked to the Admiralty once more, sending his visiting card to Admiral Barlow, who indeed received him with only a minimal delay. Thomas was brief, just asking whether Miss Jeanne Dumoulin would need the support he had promised. Barlow gave him a smile then and informed him that no, Miss Dumoulin had already found a sponsor, one with interest in two theatre companies, and that she would have her first stage appearance in two weeks' time.

Thomas nodded, having expected nothing less from the enterprising young woman and bade his farewell, one concern less on his mind.

His next visit was to a bookseller where he purchased a number of books for Mirabel, but also for Teresa. He also found a globe there, with the newest additions and corrections. It would replace the old globe from 1764 in his study, which still had the American colonies as British territory. The bookseller promised to deliver his purchases to the St. Croix.

He stopped at a chocolate house for a light repast, and then continued his quest for gifts. A pair of gold earrings studded with small rubies caught his eye, and after some haggling with the jeweller, he made the purchase, believing that Mirabel would love them.

He also walked into Dollond of London, in Hatton Garden, to have his telescope disassembled, cleaned and reassembled. To his pleasant surprise, the work was performed free of charge, being part of their lifelong guarantee.

It was quite a busy day for him and it ended with him having dinner at the St. Croix. He returned to his room, only to find that Broderick had already laid out his clothes for the next morning and packed his sea chest. Thomas fell asleep in the comforting knowledge that he would see Mirabel again before another day would be over.

Thomas had arranged for seats in the London-Portsmouth stagecoach, and they made the thirty miles in less than six hours, including two changes of horses. It was cramped seating, even with Broderick riding with the driver, since there were three more passengers. Fortunately, being the senior officer, Thomas could claim the forward facing seat, but they were still tired and sweaty when they alighted from the coach in Guildford.

Good servant that he was, Broderick quickly found transport for them, and ere the vesper bell sounded, they arrived at Grey Manor in a rented coach. As they climbed down from the seats, Mirabel was already rushing down the front steps and into Thomas's arms.

"You're back, my love! You're back!" she gushed, hugging him fiercely. Thomas revelled in the tight embrace, wrapping her into his arms and holding her tight.

"Yes, my love, I am," he said into her hair. "I've missed you so much, Mirabel!"

Letting go of Mirabel, Thomas strode over to where Teresa was standing with a bundle on her arm and knelt before his two daughters.

"Hello, my little cabin mate. How are you faring as the older daughter?" he asked Teresa who giggled.

"I have so much to do now, father," she complained with mock pathos. "Little Margaret needs my constant attention. Could you please hold her, so I may rest a little?"

Lovingly ruffling Teresa's hair, Thomas took the little baby girl in his arms. He looked into a face that bore resemblance both to Mirabel and his own mother, but the curly dark hair had to come from Mirabel's side.

"Hey, little one!" he crooned softly. "So you are my daughter? How pretty you are!"

There was Mirabel at his side, looking lovingly at her husband and her daughter, and Thomas leaned over to give her another kiss.

"We have a pretty daughter, my love," he told her, making her smile even more. "In fact, we have two pretty daughters," he added for Teresa's benefit.

"Yes, we do," Mirabel smiled. "Let's go inside though before Maggie makes a mess on your arm."

"Oh! How are you all coping?"

"Well, I hired a wet nurse and another girl for the laundry. So far, we are coping. Of course, all the mothers from within a 5-mile radius have already given me sound advice. In fact, Angela is very helpful and of course, Lisette has firsthand knowledge about little ones."

"Where is Aunt Angela then?"

"Out, riding. She should be back soon. She enjoys the countryside very much."

"It is good that you have so many friends here with you," Thomas remarked.

"Isn't it? They all kept me company in the final weeks and pampered me."

"How did the birth go?" Thomas asked under bis breath.

"I shall get over the memory of it," Mirabel quipped. "Over ten hours, if you must know. Yet, everything went fine according to the midwife, and I am recovering nicely."

They had stepped inside, and now they were climbing the stairs whilst the servants were busy with his luggage. On the first floor landing, the wet nurse, an ample young woman named Millie, took over little Margaret, allowing Thomas to shed his coat and to undress. Using the washstand, soap and washcloth, he cleaned off the sweat and dust from the coach ride whilst Mirabel sat on the edge of their bed and watched him.

"You look skinny. Haven't you eaten well?"

Thomas shrugged whilst he towelled himself dry.

"I believe I did. Maybe I ate too much in the first weeks in London, and now I am back to my normal appetite?"

"That's possible. Thomas, will you be home for a while?"

"That is what Melville told me, and I trust him to keep his word."

They found all their guests in the salon, including Angela, who gave Thomas a fierce hug.

"It is good to see you returned in good health, my dear Thomas. Elias is bound to return soon as well."

Just then, an excited Lisette, their young cook, appeared and announced that supper was ready, and they relocated to the dinner hall. Teresa was already sitting at her place and looking longingly at the food. There was also Daisy Leeds, still pretty, and still a bit melancholic. As had been their custom before, Thomas and Mirabel sat on either side of their ward, whilst their guests found seating opposite of them.

The food was delicious after months of shipboard fare, and Thomas once more congratulated himself on hiring Lisette. The conversation flowed freely around the table, and of course, Thomas had to recount the surrender of Napoleon to Captain Maitland.

After supper, Thomas, Mirabel and Angela sat in the study, sipping some of the brandy wine, which Thomas had acquired from the helpful Captain Cremant out of Saint Gilles-Croix de Vie, and of which he had brought along a small case with six bottles.

The women filled him in on the lives of some of their acquaintances. Harriet-Anne had purchased the small manor house she had considered and had moved in with her own household a few weeks ago. She would visit in the next days.

Florence Darby had written that she and Commander Roger Darby, Thomas’s 1st lieutenant in the Unicorn frigate, had moved into their own little cottage in Maldon, on the Southeast Coast. Roger Darby's sloop had been laid up, and he was currently on half pay, augmented by his accumulated prize monies and a stipend from his grandfather.

They had even heard from Catrina Duncan, or Missus Catrina Muir, as of May 1815. They lived in Dundee in a house purchased with Catrina's dowry and James Muir's prize monies. The bearer of these news was Mister Midshipman Ordinary Michael Braithwaite, who had served in Muir's fifth rate frigate until she was paid off after the Peace of Ghent. Now he was living with his only family, Mister and Missus Egerton, the Greys' neighbours, Mister Egerton being the long-time Member of Parliament for Guildford.

"Well, the lad cannot be bad altogether if James Muir didn't throw him overboard," Thomas quipped."

Mirabel giggled at that. "James Muir is a very good captain, and you can count on him to pass on many of your viewpoints as his own dogmata."

Angela nodded to that. "The man adores you."

"Well, he got many words of wisdom from me that I passed on from Elias," Thomas grinned, causing a blush of pride on Angela's cheeks.

They left it at that, and soon after, Thomas and Mirabel retreated upstairs and to their bedroom. Mirabel then spent some time in the dressing room, but when she returned to the bedroom, where Thomas was already in his shirt and resting against the pillows, she was wearing a shy smile, but nothing else.

"I'm fully healed, my love, and anxious to feel you again."

Thomas drank in the sight. There was still some extra padding around her belly and her hips, some stretch marks showed, but she was the woman for whom he had yearned those last months. A wide smile split his lips.

"My Mirabel, this is how I remembered you all those months."

"I'm not quite the young woman I was."

"No, but you are quite the woman," Thomas quipped. "Come into my arms where you belong, my love!"

She joined him then on the bed, and for the next hours, they reacquainted themselves with each other, so much so, that Thomas overslept, never waking up before the sun was high in the sky. It was good to be back.

—————

The next days brought visits by almost all their neighbours. They all wanted to hear about Napoleon's surrender, of course. There was also one peculiar caller, a Mister Symes of the Surrey Herald, the local newspaper. He asked Thomas to write a report of Napoleon's surrender from his viewpoint as a Navy captain who had fought the French emperor for all his adult life. It was an interesting proposal, and after discussing it with Mirabel and Angela, he accepted.

It took him almost a week to assemble a manuscript. He knew that the editor wanted more than a dry report, the likes of which Thomas had sent to his superiors for years. There had to be a personal note to his recounting of the events, but he also had to avoid the pitfalls of self-aggrandisement, causing him to write several drafts. Mirabel and Angela helped him and gave him advice, and in the end, Mirabel, in her beautiful handwriting, produced the final manuscript which was then submitted to the Herald.

The paper being a weekly much like most other country newspapers, Thomas had to wait for more than a week until he could see his work in print. He was astonished to see his recollection on the first page of the paper, with a flowery biography of himself added by the editor. So much for avoiding self-aggrandisement he thought, when the editor engaged in blatant hero worship.

Apparently, the readership did not mind this, but rather bought that week's issue in such numbers that Mister Symes added a second printing. Thomas's benefactor, Mister Egerton, was enthusiastic over the success of Thomas's foray into writing, urging him to think of other topics about which he could write, to establish himself as a presence in the county. At first, Thomas laughingly refused, claiming that witnessing of Napoleon's surrender was his sole claim to fame. This changed however, when he and Mirabel, with Angela, were enjoying their after-supper digestives in the sitting room. This being late September already, the fireplace was lit, creating a pleasant atmosphere.

"Have you decided whether to follow Mister Egerton's suggestion, dear?" Mirabel asked at one point, catching Thomas by surprise.

"About what should I write? All I know is how to sail a ship. I haven't witnessed any great sea battles, and to write about the sinking of the An-Nasr would be a little tasteless."

"You know a great deal about the Barbary states and the White Slavery in the Mediterranean. Most people think only about the West African slave trade when they consider the topic, and very few have any idea of the impact those ongoing raids have on the Christian islands and coasts. I am sure that you have some knowledge of the West African slave trade as well. You might juxtapose the two barbaric practices to show their shared foundation."

"And what common foundation do you see, my dear?"

"Stark greed," Mirabel said decisively. "Making a profit from human suffering, even death. Disregarding the humanity of their victims, and then cloaking it in faux missionary excuses!"

"Oh, dear, that would ruffle a great many feathers, don't you think?"

"You didn't care about people's opinions when you courted me."

Angela chuckled softly. "I believe Mirabel has a point, my dear Thomas. Remember how worried you were when that xebec appeared in Gibraltar? Those poor people in the Christian islands of the Mediterranean suffer from that worry constantly. You can raise awareness for the topic."

Thomas sighed deeply. "Give me some time to think about it."

He did, and he even spoke to Mister Symes about the idea. The editor thought it a worthwhile idea, but would not commit himself before he saw the manuscript.

Thomas then wrote a letter, long overdue, to James Muir and his wife Catrina. He inquired about their wellbeing and other circumstances, but he also issued an invitation for them to visit Guildford as their guests. In addition, he reported of the birth of Little Margaret and on his recent adventures on the French coast. He then asked for Catrina's permission to use her fate as an example for his planned article, of course without unveiling her identity in any way.

Over the next four weeks, Thomas developed his manuscript. Once, he and Mirabel even travelled to London by post chaise and stayed three days during which Mirabel had new dresses tailored whilst Thomas spent hours at the King's Library in the Queen's House at Greenwich, one of the largest scholarly libraries in the world, commuting to and from it via Thames barge. Here he studied historical works to get a better understanding of the origins and development of the Barbary Coast Beyliks, but also of the historical roots of modern slave trade. To his secret dismay, he found that many of the heroes from his history books, such as the much-revered Sir Francis Drake and John Hawkins, had started out as slavers in the developing triangular trade with the slave coast in West Africa and the Spanish dominions in the Caribbean.

A letter from the Muirs arrived shortly after, and Catrina gave Thomas permission to use her own story of enslavement for his work. To assist him, she sent a written account of her capture and her life as a slave in Oran. The Muirs also promised a visit to Surrey for the next year, as Catrina’s eldest daughter was expecting a child, making Catrina unwilling to travel.

The whole article had, at this point, grown to well over one-hundred and fifty handwritten paper sheets, likely yielding seventy printed pages. This grew by twenty-seven manuscript pages with the addition of Catrina's eyewitness account, which Thomas decided to insert into his work without alterations, giving credit to "Missus M." for her contribution.

Mister Symes agreed to publish the manuscript as a serial over the next months, but also suggested that Thomas should publish it as a book. After discussing this with Mirabel, Thomas wrote a letter to Lady Anson, the only published writer of his acquaintance, to ask for her advice. Thanks to the daily post chaise connection between Portsmouth and London, her answer arrived within four days, encouraging him to travel to London and to meet her own publisher, Mister Thurgood, who as she explained was an ardent champion of the antislavery movement.

With Elias Benning finally returned home after decommissioning his ship, Angela decided to return to London and reopen their house, and she invited Thomas and Mirabel to come along. Daisy Leeds volunteered to act as surrogate mother for Little Margaret during their absence, and three days later, Angela, Mirabel and Thomas boarded the post chaise to London.

With Thomas, Mirabel and even Daisy Leeds slaving for three days, a copy of the entire manuscript had been prepared, which they took along for their meeting with the publisher. Arriving at Stanhope Gate, at the Bennings' London house, they were awaited by Elias, who had taken it upon himself to direct the preparations for his wife's return and for his guests. He was upbeat about being back unscathed, and the first evening was spent telling about their various experiences. Of course, Thomas's recollection of the emperor's surrender found Elias's interest, but he laughed until he had tears in his eyes hearing about Thomas rescuing yet another beautiful woman from the sea.

The evening ended before 10 p.m. with the Bennings understandably impatient to retire to their bedroom. Thomas and Mirabel stayed up a while longer to discuss their plans for the coming days. Yet, by half past eleven, they, too, retired to their bedroom.

After a hearty breakfast, Thomas set out by rented cab for the Ansons' house where he found Lady Anson ready to leave with him. They took the same cab to the office of Mister Thurgood on Essex Street where they were quickly invited into a cluttered office behind which a smallish, bespectacled man was standing to receive them.

"Lady Anson, Sir Thomas, I am honoured by your visit. Please be seated!"

Thomas first held the chair for Lady Anson before sitting down himself.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," he answered.

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Sir Thomas. I read your piece in the Surrey Herald, and it made for interesting reading. Lady Anson informed me that you may have a book to publish?"

"Yes, indeed. Mister Symes, the editor of the Surrey Herald, advised me to seek publication of my recent manuscript in the form of a book."

"As Lady Anson told me, your manuscript is focussing on the White Slavery of the Barbary Coast?"

"Indeed. However, my research soon led me to include three chapters about the triangular slave trade between England, the Slave Coast, and the Caribbean islands. I soon discovered that the common denominator of slave trade, regardless of location, is — to quote my wife — stark greed. Whilst the West African squadron of the Royal Navy engages in the suppression of the slave trade along the Bight of Benin, equal efforts should be undertaken to suppress the trade and the enslavement raids in the Mediterranean."

Mister Thurgood nodded heavily. "This is an enlightened attitude, Sir Thomas. May I ask the title of your manuscript?"

"I have tentatively named it A Comparative History of White Slavery. It includes a first-person account of a British woman who escaped slavery. The lady wishes to remain anonymous, but provided me with her memories."

"That sounds interesting indeed. Have you the manuscript with you?"

Thomas nodded, handing over the heavy envelope containing the stack of over one-hundred paper sheets.

"I should mention that Mister Symes agreed to publish this manuscript as a serial in his weekly newspaper. The proceeds will go the Surrey Chapter of the Anti-Slavery League."

Mister Thurgood carefully extracted the stack of paper from the envelope and looked of the first pages.

"A female handwriting?"

"Yes, my wife and two of our house guests wrote the copy," Thomas admitted.

"Excellent legibility, I have to say. You are staying in London?"

"Yes, we are guests at Captain Elias Benning's house at Stanhope Gate. We plan to stay for another three days."

"That is convenient. I shall look over your work, and I should be able to give you a tentative assessment by tomorrow afternoon. Should I look you up at Stanhope Gate?"

"I shall spend the afternoon tomorrow at my club, the St. Croix. We can meet there, in the day room."

"With the greatest pleasure, Sir Thomas. May I ask milady whether she, too, might have something for my perusal?"

Lady Anson smiled and shook her head. "I am still drafting my next work. I have been too distracted by other events in recent weeks."

"I did not mean to rush you, milady."

"I know, Mister Thurgood. I suppose we should not keep you any longer. After all, you have some interesting reading to do," she smiled genially. "Sir Thomas and I shall leave you to your business. Thank you for your time."

"Not at all, milady. It is I who have to thank you for bringing Sir Thomas to my office."

After the exchange of some more pleasantries, Thomas and Lady Anson left the office. Out on the street, they found a cab to hire, and soon they were on their way to Chelsea, where the Ansons lived. Of course, he was invited in and had to accept a refreshment in the Ansons' salon. It was no surprise to Thomas that Lady Anson had her own agenda, and soon he was subjected to a gentle questioning about his service along the Bay of Biscay coast in the last months.

Elizabeth Anson used a well made wax tablet to make notes whilst asking pointed questions. What did the emperor wear at his surrender? Did he return the salute? What did Thomas think when seeing Miss Dumoulin being tossed over the taffrail, how did she feel about it, and very importantly, where was the young woman now?

Thomas answered as well as he could, except for the latter question.

"Perhaps Sir Jeremiah might find out from Admiral Barlow?" he suggested. "Oh, young Mister Wilson talked about letting her stay with his sister, Miss Elizabeth Wilson, whom you know better than I do."

Elizabeth Anson smiled with anticipation hearing this.

"She'll tell me, if she knows," she said confidently. "Else, I shall get the information from good old Barlow."

A half hour later, Thomas was finally able to make his escape, having steadfastly refused to divulge any sensitive information about the disagreeable Monsieur Legrande, who by now had to be on a passage without return to St. Helena. He found another cab, and soon reached Stanhope Gate.

Mirabel was alone in the living room when he arrived, and he told her of his conversation with Mister Thurgood, but also of the interrogation he had suffered at Lady Anson's hands. She hugged him in response.

"I know that you are doing this for Catrina Muir, Daisy and Owen Leeds, and a little bit for me, too. Thank you!"

"Maybe, but it is also necessary to end that barbaric trade."

"Daisy was very eager to help with the writing. I think she wants to help."

"I hope it is not too hurtful for her to relive her family's ordeal through her participation?"

"Perhaps, but the whole experience is eating away at her. It may even help her by aiding the effort to fight back against slavery."

"I shall make sure to add her to my foreword," Thomas agreed and was rewarded with another hug.

Elias and Angela joined them a little while later and they had tea together. At one point, Thomas mentioned his invitation to the Muirs, and Angela immediately decided to invite them to London, too. She still had a soft spot for Catrina Muir and her daughters and wanted to see her again. Elias, of course, agreed, owing his own posting to the Andromeda frigate and his subsequent successful courtship of Angela to Catrina's rescue.

—————

Mirabel dedicated the entire next day to visiting Wilson's Fashion, accompanied by an equally eager Angela, leaving Thomas and Elias at leisure. They made use of the sunny weather to stroll in a park, visited the Admiralty to pick up the latest gossip, and even managed to talk Captain Anson into having dinner with them at their club. Anson was much less harried than during his last brief meeting with Thomas, and he was able to fill them in on the fate of young Miss Dumoulin.

Rear Admiral Barlow had introduced her to Admiral Lord Brougham who held an interest in the Drury Lane Theatre, and the young actress was now employed as an understudy for the second female lead actress. Lord and Lady Brougham were known benefactors of talented young actors, and young Jeanne Dumoulin did not have to use her personal charms to get a foot into that door.

Of course, Anson also knew about Thomas's manuscript. He thought that it might help the Admiralty to win public support for a more aggressive stance against the Barbary Coast beys, but he also warned Thomas to stay clear of challenging the sugar planter faction in Parliament whose members represented the Caribbean slave holders. They held considerable power, and a young captain could ill afford alienating them.

This Thomas already knew, and he assured Anson that his work was aiming at the suppression of enslavement and slave trade, both in the Mediterranean and in the South Atlantic.

Anson excused himself after dinner. Thomas and Elias relocated to the reading room where they sipped coffee and studied the newspapers. This was where Mister Thurgood found them, or rather where one of the club's ushers escorted him. Thomas saw it as a good omen that Mister Thurgood had no bag with him to return the manuscript. He introduced Elias, and the men sat down in the comfortable, upholstered chairs. A waiter appeared, and after conferring with the other two, Thomas ordered three glasses of Cognac brandy. Then he leant back to hear Mister Thurgood's verdict.

"Sir Thomas, I read your manuscript twice already, and I want you to know that I am willing to publish the work as a book. I also took the liberty this morning to show your manuscript to Mister Nichols, the publisher of The Gentleman's Magazine and Historical Chronicle. That periodical has a wide distribution, and Mister Nichols has professed his interest to publish your work in serial form in the Magazine."

Thomas pointed at the latest issue of the Magazine on the side table next to them. "I am quite familiar with that publication."

"Of course. Mister Nichols would of course pay for the right to use your manuscript in his magazine."

"That sounds interesting, although I wish to make clear that I shall not accept any monies for myself, but rather donate any proceeds to a charitable cause."

"Quite. Now back to your wish to have your manuscript published as a book. With Mister Symes in Guildford and Mister Nichols here in London willing to circulate your text in serial form in their periodicals, we should plan for the book to appear a bit later, say, after half the text is published as serial. That will create more demand, as people might not want to wait for weekly chapters once their interest is awakened. It is October now, and with editing and and other preparations, we cannot expect the first chapters to be published before late December. I would therefore suggest that we aim for the book to be on sale by March."

Thomas nodded, inwardly surprised at the eagerness of those publishers.

"That sounds like a good plan, Mister Thurgood, although I must admit that I know next to nothing about the publishing business."

Thurgood gave him a smile. "Just like we would be woefully lost on the quarterdeck of a man o'war. This is why we entrust England's safety to you, and ask you to entrust your manuscript to us."

"I might as well," Thomas mused. "What is Mister Nichols offering for the rights, and what are you offering, Mister Thurgood?"

"Will you stand behind the work with your name and titles?"

"Of course; these are my views and opinions, and I stand by them."

"The usual pay for a writer would be ten shillings for a printed page. Given your name and standing, Mister Nichols is offering you twice that sum. The Magazine has a wide circulation, and he can recoup the costs from increased sales. The topic is one of great interest to his readership. My guess is that your manuscript will yield over eighty printed pages."

Thomas looked at Elias who shrugged. "I know even less about publishing than you do. Since your motivation is to educate the public about the situation, you will donate the proceeds anyway."

Thomas smiled. "Yes, you are right. Mister Thurgood, I can accept that offer."

"Wonderful! Now for the book, I can offer to buy the manuscript from you for publication. On the other hand, you can retain the rights and have the book edited and printed at your own cost. We could then see to its distribution against a small fee. The latter alternative would also allow you to withdraw the book from sale at any time should the headwind become too violent for you."

"You expect headwinds?"

"But of course! The planter faction will be up in arms, although I noticed that you wisely refrained from arguing against slave holding. Yet, the planters still hope for a repeal of the Slave Trade Act in the future. On the positive side, the Whigs will support you as will most of the Church of England clergy."

Thomas shrugged. "I am not propagating, only informing readers. How many books should be printed at first, and how much costs would I incur?"

"I expect the editing, typesetting and proof reading to run up to £25, given a 96-page layout. Say, another £5 for 12 eight-page stereotypes. Those will save future typesetting and make reprinting much cheaper. Four shillings each for printing and binding, five-hundred copies for a first print run, should add up to £128. You can sell a copy for eight shillings and even with the distribution fees, you will recoup your costs if the book sells. Reprints would then only involve printing and binding, increasing the margins considerably. The actual numbers can all be decided once we know how well your work is received."

Thomas weighed those options for a minute, but then made a decision.

"I should like to keep control over the book. I shall finance the typesetting and printing."

Thurgood smiled. "Very good, Sir Thomas. I shall inform Mister Nichols of your decision, and I expect him to call on you soonest. May I hold on to the manuscript and have it duplicated for Mister Nichol's use?"

Again, Thomas nodded. He had to fear a mutiny if he were to suggest that the women in his household prepared another copy, and his own handwriting was not up to theirs.

After ordering another round of brandy for them, Thomas proposed a toast.

"To the success of this little enterprise!"

After Mister Thurgood left them, Elias smiled at his former subordinate.

"You will have an interesting half year, my dear Thomas.”

—————

2. A Long Winter

Winter 1815-1816

It was indeed December 16 when Thomas saw the first part of his work in the Surrey Herald, and only a day later, a complimentary copy of The Gentleman's Magazine with the same chapter arrived by mail from London. Mister Symes and Mister Nichols had shared the labour and cost of editing and typesetting, and Mister Nichols provided stereotype casts of the chapters for the Herald's use.

A few days later, letters from readers began to trickle in, both at the Greys' manor and at the two publishers' offices. Thomas read them all and categorised them into three groups: scholarly comments, flattery, and angry partisan rantings. The latter group comprised roughly one tenth of the incoming letters, the scholarly comments a little more, with the vast majority of the responses being more or less meaningless compliments. He sorted the letters accordingly and resolved to answer only the comments of the first group.

Nevertheless, the Greys and their houseguest Daisy Leeds had a peaceful Christmas. Following family tradition, they exchanged gifts on Christmas morning and attended church in their chapel where the curate, Mister Berwick, conducted an upbeat service. In Thomas's estimate, Berwick stood head and shoulders over the old fool Caplan whom he had replaced. He was well respected by the tenants and their families and did not meddle in their private lives.

The day after Christmas, the Greys followed the tradition of Boxing Day and handed out gifts to their household members and to the estate staff. Andrew Polk, the estate carpenter, made it a memorable day when he announced his engagement with Lisette Dutour, their cook, and his willingness to raise her little son as his own. Thomas was surprised by the announcement, but Mirabel's smug smile told him that she had known about it beforehand.

Polk had turned in his masterpiece, an ornate writing desk, to the Worshipful Company of Joiners, the principal guild of cabinet makers. Thomas and he had reached agreement on Polk renting the workshop from the estate against the promise of regular maintenance work in the manor house. Since Polk had renewed a large part of the wood work already, there was not that much for him to do anymore, and it was in both parties' interest for the man to become an independent craftsman.

After Christmas, the print proofs for Thomas's book arrived from Mister Thurgood, and for the next two days, Thomas was very busy going over each page and adding corrections where needed. In all, Mister Thurgood had performed a very thorough edit, simplifying sentences in some instances, and replacing ambiguous wordings. It was educating for Thomas to see those corrections, and he sent the proofs back with his thanks.

By now, the third chapter had been published in the two periodicals, and after a lull during the Christmas days, more letters arrived to be read, categorised and sorted. Again, Thomas responded to a number of them which argued certain points he had made.

Two letters stood out. One was from the prominent abolitionist William Wilberforce, a well known member of Parliament and a driving force behind the 1807 Slave Trade Act. Mister Wilberforce congratulated him on the subject of his writing and on his insights and issued an invitation for the Greys' next visit to London. Thomas sent an answering letter, expressing his delight over the invitation and promising to accept it at the earliest opportunity.

The second letter came from the 2nd Earl Grey, a prominent Whig politician. From what he had read, Thomas did not see eye-to-eye with the Earl regarding Napoleon's reign of the Hundred Days — Earl Grey had argued it to be a French internal affair — but the man's stance on slavery was, as everybody knew, that it should be abolished in its entirety. The latter standpoint certainly agreed with Thomas's views.

The Earl was also complimenting Thomas's treatise and given the shared family name, inquired about the roots of the Surrey Greys. Thomas answered carefully, thanking the Earl for his kind letter, and detailing what he knew about his forebears, starting with his great-grandfather, Captain Roger Grey, who as far as Thomas knew, had risen to his rank from before the mast.

On the whole, the book project kept him busy over the otherwise uneventful winter months. There was an interesting news in March that Lord Exmouth, sent to the Barbary Coast to negotiate an end to piracy and enslavement by the corsairs, had seemingly convinced the Deys of Tunis and Tripoli to end piracy originating from their beyliks, but the new Dey of Algiers, Omar Agha, had agreed to such provisions only with a great show of reluctance. This was interesting, and Thomas made certain to include that information and its ramifications into the concluding chapter of his treatise, in time for Mister Thurgood to amend the print typecasts.

Otherwise the year started with uncommonly cold weather all through the spring, and even on sunny days, the sky appeared gloomy and yellowish. Even to a man such as Thomas who had spent most of his adult life reading the skies for weather signs, this was unusual.

Of the first lambs born in March, almost half did not survive in the cold weather, and the tenants took to housing them in their barns for protection. The sowing, too, was delayed and even when the tenants could not wait any longer, the crops grew only poorly. Even grazing was poor for horses, cows and sheep, and many tenants were forced to sell their calves early for lack of forage.

In late April, the landowners and caretakers had a meeting in Guildford to discuss the looming poor harvests and the impact on the livestock. Temperatures at night were still freezing, and there was widespread worry. Thomas mentioned the strange, gloomy sky, and Mister Thomson, ever the scientific farmer, offered that a very great fire must have released ashes into the sky, causing the strange colour but also blocking the warming sun rays. It was certainly true that the yellowish colour of the sky was eerily reminiscent of what people remembered from great conflagrations, but nobody had heard of any such massive fires.

Nothing was resolved at the meeting, but several landowners proposed to reduce the rents for the year to help their tenants. This was certainly a way to alleviate the hardships, and Thomas resolved to follow that course, too.

There was also an article in the Morning Chronicle referring to a different problem faced by the Navy Board. With over four fifths of the Royal Navy ships and sloops placed in ordinary, there were problems storing the unused provisions, such as salted pork, hardtack, dried peas and other goods. This gave Thomas an idea, and he travelled to Portsmouth by post chaise.

Arriving there, he found a room in the Rose and Thistle inn and sent a billet to the victualling yard together with his calling card, asking for an interview with the Commissioner. He received an answer even before supper, offering him a 9 a.m. interview with the acting commissioner, Mister William Potter. Somehow, the name rang a bell in Thomas’s memories, but for the life of him, he could not place it. Reasoning that a name like that was not uncommon, he shrugged it off and enjoyed his supper before retiring to his room.

Right on time in the next morning and fortified by a hearty breakfast, Thomas arrived at the victualling yard for his interview. He only had to wait for two or three minutes before an invalided Marine bade him enter Mister Potters office.