Thomas Grey and the Smugglers

Thomas Grey & The Smugglers

 

Peter Argonis

 

© 2025

All Rights Reserved by the Author

 

 

Description

Our hero is sent to Bermuda to command the Navy Station at this important way point for British trade. The suppression of the rampant smuggling, but also the dangers of the Yellow Fever require his attention, whilst a feud from his youth is finally resolved. Finally, Thomas returns to his alma mater as commanding officer, his life coming full circle.

A brand-new Thomas Grey adventure!

 

 

Contents

1. Bermuda

2. Running the Station

3. Changes

4. The Yellow Jack

5. A Friendly Visit

6. Delays

7. Full Circle

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. Bermuda

February 1819

The knock on the door woke Thomas.

"Yes?"

"Sir Thomas, it's nigh on 8 bells," Broderick's voice came through the cabin door.

In an instant, Thomas was wide awake. He gently shook Mirabel's shoulder.

"Time to rise and shine, my love," he whispered in her ears.

"Go away!" she mumbled sleepily. The farewell dinner had gone too long the evening before.

"We'll weigh anchor in a half hour, darling. We must get up."

"My head hurts."

"I'm sure Derrick has some tea ready for you."

"Fine. Remind me why I'm in this freezing cabin?"

"Because you want to be Lady Grey, the leading lady of Bermuda."

"May I reconsider that? I know, I know! I'll get up."

Outside the night cabin, Broderick had left a burning candle, and Thomas brought it back into the cabin. In it's light, he quickly dressed, picking thick, knee-length, wool socks and long trousers. He also wore a woollen vest under his uniform when he left the sleeping cabin to let Mirabel dress in peace. On the quarterdeck, he found Robert standing near the binnacle, supervising the preparations for weighing anchor.

"Morning, Captain," he greeted his friend. Here on deck they were Commodore Sir Thomas Grey and Captain Robert Bryce.

"Good morning, Sir Thomas. I trust we did not wake you?"

"No, I gave orders to Broderick to wake me before 8 bells. How are things looking?"

"About right, Sir Thomas. The free watch gets a quarter hour to drink some hot soup. They must be frozen after the morning watch."

"Good thinking, Captain. We don't want anybody to lose his footing up in the rigging. Sun-up in twenty minutes?"

"Yes, Sir Thomas. Wind from nor'east, tide's still running."

"Perfect. Once we're anchor up, we'll better have the bell going. This fog is thick," Thomas mused. "Kindly have a lantern hoisted to the main top. It's likely above the fog."

"Aye-aye, Sir Thomas," Robert answered laconically. "I have one up there already."

"Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn't interfere with the handling of the ship."

"I've never shipped a commodore before either," Robert answered with a grin. "Shall I get her under way?"

"Yes, please. It'll be noon before that fog will lift."

Soon, the crew was piped up. Royal Marines and the idlers — cooper's and gunner's mates, the cook and his mates, and other men not involved with handling the sails and the rigging — assembled around the capstan and inserted the bars. Meanwhile, the topmen manned the topsail yards and prepared to loosen the topsails. When everybody stood ready, Robert blew his pipe and eighty-two men threw their weight against the capstan bars, heaving in the anchor cable. Salsette slowly moved forward towards the anchor until the cable was almost vertical and the bow of the ship depressed. When the anchor broke free, Salsette's bow lifted up.

"Anchor free, Sir!" came a shout from the forecastle.

"Loosen tops'ls!" Robert commanded. "Mister Marsden, course southeast by south!"

"Course southeast by south, aye-aye, Sir!" the sailing master responded and relayed the order to the two quartermasters at the wheel.

"On deck, brace the tops'ls!"

The idlers raced from the capstan to the braces and heaved them until the yards were trimmed correctly. This was overseen by the boatswain, Mister Charles. Robert turned to Thomas.

"I'll keep her under tops'ls only until it clears up a little, Sir Thomas."

Thomas just nodded. It was sensible. Salsette would barely have steerage, but if they collided with another vessel, the damages would be minimised. It would be a quarter hour before they would enter The Solent, where the shipping in and out of Portsmouth was always lively. Even knowing that he had not the command of the ship, Thomas felt uneasy about leaving the quarterdeck to have breakfast. Robert noticed and smiled.

"I shan't run her aground, I promise," he whispered.

"I know that, but it's hard to be at ease," Thomas whispered back with a rueful smile. He forced himself to speak up normally.

"I shall take my breakfast, Captain. Have me called if anything demands my attention."

"Aye-aye, Sir Thomas."

The friends grinned at each other before Thomas retreated aft and to the day cabin. There he found the table laid and three women, Mirabel, Harriet-Anne and Catriona, waiting. Teresa was at table, too, looking longingly at the cold cuts and the fresh bread which she knew not to last long into the journey.

"The fog's thick outside," he explained, but three females pointed at the stern windows and smiled. "Oh, yes, I guess you noticed," he added sheepishly.

"Derrick, kindly bring a cup of coffee to the quarterdeck for my husband," Harriet-Anne told the steward. He was new to Thomas, but not to Robert, having served under him in the far east. Still, he first looked at Thomas for approval.

"In matters of food and drink, consider Lady Harriet's wishes as orders, Derrick."

"Aye-aye, Sir Thomas!"

"Ha-hm!" Thomas heard Catriona.

"Oh, yes, the same goes for Missus Douglas."

"Aye-aye, Sir Thomas!"

Once he had poured a cup for Robert and left the cabin, Mirabel giggled. "What about my wishes?"

"I though that was clear, my dear. Since I command the squadron and you command me, you are the commandress-in-chief," Thomas smiled back at her.

"Good to know. I believe the first thing I'll order is to turn south as soon as feasible. This weather is not what we expected from a voyage to Bermuda."

"I believe we better get started with our breakfast, lest Teresa will start to use her knife on us," Thomas teased their daughter.

"Thank you, Father. I also concur with the commandress-in-chief."

"I consider myself under strict orders."

—————

It took until the end of the morning watch, before the fog lifted. By then, they were sailing the Channel in westerly direction and past the Isle of Wight. Salsette was not the fastest frigate in the service, but with her clean hull and fresh copper, and driven by northeastern breeze, she showed herself from a very good side.

It helped that they had a full crew with only three landsmen — men new to serving in the Navy — and experienced petty officers. It had taken Robert but seven days to man the ship to complement. Many Navy ratings had been beached after 1814, and the famine of 1816 had thrown many of them into poverty and worse. In these days, commissioning Navy ships had to turn down sailors seeking enlistment.

The same held true for the officers. Mister Bellweather, the 1st lieutenant, was a veteran of sixteen years seniority. Mockridge, the Nº2, had eight years in rank, and even the Nº3, Mister Peter Henley, was an experienced man. Thomas and Robert had decided to give their former fellow-scholar a chance. He had finished the Academy as second in the rankings, meaning that he knew more of navigation than the vast majority of sailing masters. Thomas also felt that a man, who had been relegated to brig-sloops for his entire career, deserved a chance. When approached by Robert, Henley had jumped at the chance, and what they had seen of him during the fitting out, amply validated their decision.

The servants and nurses were already making the first uses of the increasingly sunny afternoon, drying freshly washed nappies and undergarments under the instructions of Derrick and Broderick. The latter had volunteered to accompany his master, admitting to a liking for the shipboard life, and so far, he and Derrick had worked harmoniously. It was a good start into their voyage, Thomas determined.

Nightfall saw them off Lyme Bay, and after an uneventful night, they sighted Ushant shortly after sun rise. For six days, they were facing winds from West by North, as they sailed close-hauled on a south-south-western course, but then they caught the northeastern trade winds and settled on a direct course for Bermuda. It was a very relaxing voyage. Officers and crews were experienced and dependable, the weather at 32° northern latitude was pleasant, sunny and dry. Under the watchful eyes of 260 men, little Maggie explored the quarterdeck regularly, whilst Theo was still in the crawling stage. He would pull himself up on a carronade carriage and stand on wobbly legs until the motion of the deck made him fall back on his well-padded buttocks, much to the amusement of the quarterdeck crews. One of the deck hands was always ready to catch the children before they could reach the companionways.

For Harriet-Anne, it was the first exposure to sea travel, and after an initial affliction with seasickness, she adopted well, showing pride in her husband and gratitude for Thomas. For a year or more, she and Mirabel would be near the top of Bermuda's social order, even more so than amongst the gentry around Guildford, and she had not to defer to a jealous husband. Robert had indeed asked her opinion before accepting the command, and she still felt blissful when she recalled the conversation. Of course, she had urged him to accept, not only to be able to accompany him, Thomas and Mirabel, but also because she wanted to repay Robert for his consideration.

Only Mirabel was slightly apprehensive. Whilst slavery had almost died out in Bermuda since the shift from plantations to shipping and trading, the prejudice against people of colour was still rampant, also due to Bermuda's close ties to the American southern states. It might develop into a difficult time for her.

Thomas was also slightly worried. Brigadier Thelonius Argyll, commanding the Army fortress on the island and acting governor, was supposedly not an easy man with whom to deal, let alone cooperate. Nominally, Thomas was his equal in rank as a commodore of the 1st class, but the acting governorship established Argyll as higher ranked. Rumours were that Argyll was deeply religious and leaning towards the anti-slavery movement, and Thomas hoped that the latter would ease life for Mirabel.

Still, the crossing was a pleasant time for everybody. Thomas and Robert — and by extension, Mirabel, Teresa, Harriet-Anne and Catriona — had to share the main cabin, limiting the available room at the table. Therefore, they had to invite the officers to dinner three at a time, a lieutenant, a senior warrant officer, and a midshipman. Teresa had the most fun in those evenings, receiving the admiring looks from the young and not-so-young gentlemen. Almost fifteen-year-old Teresa was flattered and giddy during and after the dinners, but also during the days when she strolled on the quarterdeck. Catriona, too, was on the receiving end of admiration and lustful gazes, but she was blasé about the attention.

Thus, it was almost regret with which they sighted St. George after 23 days of sailing. Since it was close to sunset, Thomas asked Robert to heave-to for the night, to make St. George harbour in the morning hours. This gave them one last dinner in the main cabin and their servants time to prepare their masters' uniforms for next day's ceremonies.

Thomas slept a little unruly going over the plans in his head, but he was not tired when Salsette approached the narrow passage into the harbour. They all had a last breakfast together whilst Thomas's broad pennant was hoisted along with their recognition signal. As they entered the natural harbour, the proper eleven-gun salute greeted them, to which Salsette answered in kind. Soon, they could drop their anchor, and as the crew stowed away the sails, Thomas looked around the harbour and found the Caroline frigate, Elias Benning's old ship, two cable lengths away, a blue rear admiral's flag flying from her top. Wearing his Nº2 captain's coat, he and Robert took the gig to the flagship.

As they approached, they were challenged properly to which Thomas's new coxswain responded with, "Pennant!" Indeed, six side boys stood at the ready when they entered Caroline's port and saluted the flag. There was a man in admiral's uniform looking at him with a smile.

"Welcome aboard, Sir Thomas!"

"Thank you, Sir!" Thomas answered politely. "Rear Admiral Hames, Sir?"

"Yes, Sir Thomas. A pleasure to meet you. Their Lordships advertised your arrival, and you are most welcome."

"Thank you, Sir, again. I was hoping for that. May I introduce Captain Robert Bryce?"

"Again, a pleasure, Captain. Why don't we go aft? Oh, this is Captain Marsh, my flag captain."

Thomas and Robert stated their pleasure, and then the four officers entered the main cabin which Thomas had known so well, back in 1812, when Elias had commanded the ship. It looked different, but was well appointed. They were offered seats at the table and a steward brought jars of coffee and tea.

"I don't drink wines or spirits," Hames explained with a shrug.

"It's not yet sundown anyway," Thomas answered.

"You've led a squadron before?"

"Yes, Sir, in '13, on the Berber coast. I suppose I was a 2nd-class commodore then, but Lord Exmouth did not formally appoint me, and I flew no broad pennant."

"Yet, if I remember correctly, you wiped out most of the Algerian navy?"

"One may look at it that way. They tried to box us in, but we taught them a lesson. The Dey blamed us for the death of his favourite son; a pirate by any other name."

"Well, you'll do well here. Argyll is a churchy man, and he's already impatient to meet you. Myself, I have good friends in Barbados, men who own well-governed plantations, not scoundrels like Ellington. I cannot see eye to eye with you on the slavery issue, but I can respect your stance."

"That is all I can ask, Sir. Let me hasten to explain that I am friendly with several gentlemen who identify themselves as members of the sugar interest in the Commons. I am loath to reduce a person to a single trait or opinion."

"That is eloquently said, Sir Thomas. That aside, when will be a good time for you to take over the station?"

"I have been advised to wait for the transfer of command before interviewing the governor."

Hames nodded with a wry smile. "Brigadier Argyll is not a bad man. Keeps his troops here in good discipline and has an ear for the needs of the colonists. Yet, executing the office of governor, he may appear to be a tad presumptuous. If you don't mind the advice of a more experience officer, don't let him meddle with the running of the station and your squadron."

"I was already warned against that, Sir."

"He'll also be jealous of you. He'll have to wait for his CB¹ suffix until after his command ends, if at all. You already were inducted, and you have those foreign knighthoods, too. I'd wear all those sashes and stars sparingly, if I were you. Again, he is a good commanding officer and an able governor, if a little vainglorious. Handle him the right way, and you'll have an easy time, rub him against the grain, and you'll be looking at aggravation."

"Thank you for your views, Sir. Again, they echo what advice I received at the Admiralty."

"Well, that's all the advice you'll hear from me. Shall I hand over the station tomorrow?"

"That would suit me fine, Sir."

"I shall come over to your flagship. That way, we can save gunpowder. I shall have my flag hauled down here and then take my barge to Salsette. Say, four bells, forenoon?"

"Splendid, Sir. Will you and Captain Marsh join us at dinner afterwards? Our wives will be happy to make your acquaintance."

"With pleasure, Sir Thomas. May my wife join, too?"

"But of course. May we expect Missus Marsh, too?"

"I am unmarried, Sir Thomas," Marsh answered.

"Then you can lead my daughter to table. She's fifteen and learning to conduct herself in society," Thomas answered. Marsh was a young captain and appeared to be modest and sober, ideal for Teresa.

"With the greatest pleasure, Sir Thomas, but how… I mean…?"

"We adopted her when she was nine years old, in 1813."

"That explains it, Sir Thomas. I'll be delighted."

—————

The ceremony in the next morning went without a glitch, but with shortcuts. When Hames came aboard the Salsette, his flag in the Caroline had already been hauled down. Thus, hoisting Thomas's broad pennant was the only act performed, and the eleven gun salute from Salsette remained the only salute fired. It was nevertheless a memorable moment for Thomas and his family, and the celebratory dinner which followed was a success.

Thomas had also decided to start his posting with a polite gesture. The evening before, Thomas had sent a billet to the shore, inviting Brigadier Argyll to the ceremony, and the governor had indeed attended it and the dinner, in which the best English fare was offered. The governor was received with a proper 19-gun salute, which seemed to please him extraordinarily. Thomas had also restricted the decorations he wore to the small companionship cross of the Order of the Bath, and he was wearing his father's unadorned sword. Yet, the admiral's uniform showed him to be Argyll's military equal, which the Brigadier did not seem to mind.

In any case, the old and new Navy station commanders and their captains received a counter invitation to the governor's quarters two days hence, giving their ladies time for preparations. It also allowed Thomas to shift his family to his Navy Station quarters with Hames's wife staying as guest.

Thomas used the free day to invite the commanders of the four sloops in the harbour and gave them an opportunity to offer suggestions. All of them were rather senior, as had been the policy of the Admiralty, but Thomas knew that this would change under the new regime. He could feel their resentment over a thirty-year-old commodore and station commander, but they hid their sentiments and were nothing but polite and helpful. Thomas shrugged inwardly. In a moment of clairvoyance, he realised that his own father would have resented serving under a whippersnapper commodore. It was only human, and he had been lucky to be in the right places at opportune times. With any other commander-in-chief than Lord Exmouth, we might have shipped mail and gossip for the rest of the war and missed out on post-captain's rank and on a fortune in prize monies.

The reception at the governor's residence, was pleasant if a little stiff. Argyll was not an outgoing man, but his wife made up for that, skilfully leading the conversation and including the newcomers, the Greys and the Bryces. Missus Argyll was delighted over young Teresa, too, who had a knack for wrapping older women around her dainty fingers, but Captain Marsh, her table partner, was also enthralled, if maintaining an impeccable, gentlemanly demeanour. Only Admiral Hames appeared a little on the outside, but that might have been due to having relinquished his command.

This even went so far that Hames asked for his leave early, citing a consuming headache, and forcing his wife, who had seemingly enjoyed the evening, and Captain Marsh to follow suite. They would all retire to the Caroline frigate which was due to leave St. George Harbour in the next morning. Thomas and Robert bade their respectful farewells, and the Arnolds expressed the hope to see him again once they returned to England. It was all very proper and convincing, but as soon as they were gone, Brigadier Argyll shook his head.

"What a pity they could not stay," he said with a polite smile. "I hope you will still enjoy yourself, Miss Grey."

"I shall have to console myself," Teresa said with a straight face and perfect poise. "Captain Marsh was a perfect table partner."

"I trust that with time, you will get over it," Missus Argyll answered with the same straight face, but then she spoiled it with a smile and a shake of her head. "Poor Admiral Hames! Returning to half-pay will come hard to him."

"He was very gracious to me," Thomas said with a shrug. "I shall defer judgement until I shall have to give up this posting.

"I trust you'll find a better excuse than a headache, Sir Thomas," Argyll opined.

"Now that we don't have to consider the good admiral's sensitivities, tell us all about what inspired you to write your Comparative History! I have been dying to hear about it," Missus Argyll demanded.

"Yes, Sir Thomas. It was with great pleasure that we learned who would be the next Navy Station commander."

"I should start with telling you that neither of my parents held with slavery," Thomas sighed. "This was further enforced when I first came to the Caribbean in my father's sloop and saw the face of slavery, the wanton beatings. Then I caught the yellow fever, and when my life was in the balance, my father had me brought to a well-known Black doctress, a healer. Cubah Cornwallis saved my life by lowering my fever and feeding me broth and herbal teas. The sailor who had carried me to her dwelling was suffering from a festering wound to the leg, and she cured that, too. She even explained why she did what she did. If I am alive today, I owe it to that smart Black woman, and I cannot subscribe to the view that people of colour are inherently less capable than White people."

"When Thomas returned to England after the first voyage, he spoke of his experiences. I was only thirteen years old I think, but his tales made me a fervent abolitionist," Harriet-Anne recalled.

"My exposure to white slavery came when the Wolverine sloop in which I served as a midshipman was escorting victualling ships on the Berber coast, at Oran. There was an enslaved Scotswoman in Oran, and she managed to have her young daughters smuggled out to us, rolled up in carpets. In the next morning, the owner of the woman came out in a boat, holding a sabre to the woman's neck, threatening to behead her if we would not turn the girls back to him."

"Oh, dear, what did you do?"

"Captain Benning ordered the scum blown to smithereens. He released a full broadside into the boat. The slaver stood at the bows, and he and the woman were thrown into the water. I was tasked with swimming to the wreckage and I was able to pull the woman to safety. I'll never forget the welts and scars on her back where that swine had whipped her. She eventually recovered and she is happily married now, and her daughters found loving husbands, too."

"Missus M.," the governor nodded. "A stout and brave woman and to be admired. But you fought more against the Berbers?"

"Eventually. It was years later, in 1813, when I commanded the Unicorn frigate in the Mediterranean. We thwarted a slave raid on a small Sardinian island and caught over six-hundred corsairs. Through a middleman, an exchange was arranged, corsairs against Christian slaves held in Algiers."

"That is when I was freed from slavery, although the man who had purchased us was more like a father to me. Yet, Mother convinced him to offer me for the exchange, and since then I have been with Sir Thomas and Lady Grey," Teresa added. "My mother finally became free after the Battle of Algiers."

"Astonishing! What was the impetus to write a book then?"

"Being on half-pay and bored. I had witnessed the former Emperor Napoleon's capitulation to Captain Maitland, and I wrote a short account of the event for the Surrey Herald, a weekly newspaper in Guildford. The piece was well received, and everybody urged me to write more. It was my dear wife who suggested to write about the scourge of white slavery. When I researched the historical and financial background of white slavery, I could not help but find the similarities to the Atlantic slave trade, so I included that into my treatise as well. The editor of the Surrey Herald agreed to publish it in serialised form, but also recommended to publish it as a book. Missus M. then agreed to add her own recollections, for which I was very grateful. In the end, my entire household and some of our guests participated in the project. Lady Anson, the playwright, whom we befriend, found a publisher for the book, and the proceeds go to the various chapters of the anti-slavery league."

"It was eye-opening," Missus Argyll said seriously. "I always thought that the slavers would land at the coasts and raid villages to catch slaves, but you wrote that they buy them from wholesalers, who in turn are supplied by the local rulers who orchestrate the raids."

Thomas nodded. "Slavery on the African coasts predates the Atlantic slave trade, but the European slavers' demand vastly increased the scale. Conversely, the Christian powers in the Mediterranean often bought slaves on the Berber coast to man their galleys. It is a convoluted issue. As often, moral issues are tossed over the side if there is money to be made or saved."

"Very sad, but true, Sir Thomas," Argyll nodded. "You will not encounter many slaves anymore here on Bermuda, but there are a number of indentured workers and servants, mostly of Scottish and Irish origin. I'm afraid their lot is not much easier in some cases."

Thomas nodded with a lopsided smile. "I had a brush with one of the local merchants about that. Must have been in May 1801. The man was beating on a frail girl not older than ten or eleven with his walking stick, and she was bleeding from her head. I was ashore with two other ship's boys, and I'm afraid we gave him our mind."

"He attacked you, too?"

"He tried, but there were three of us and we knew a little about dirty fighting," Thomas chuckled. "He ended up on his knees and crying. We were caned for brawling, but it was worth it."

"You couldn't have been older than thirteen of fourteen then," Argyll remarked.

"Barely twelve. In a way it helped me to get accepted by the crew. I was the captain's son and a first-class volunteer. The snide remarks stopped afterwards."

"What was the trader's name, pray?" Missus Argyll asked.

"It was a Mister Morten, of Hamilton. He must be in his fifties now."

"Mortimer Morten? He certainly is not well reputed. You'll have dealings with the man. Admiral Hames swears that he 's smuggling, but we never caught him."

"Yes. I was told of that responsibility. I was even instructed by HM Customs. A bit of smuggling must be expected with all the trade going on."

"Yes, but it is likely more than a bit. The customs master, Mister Grant, complains that what goes through his inspection, is not half of what is smoked, chewed of quaffed on these islands. Morten's old tobacco plantation is trading lively with the homeland, but he hardly has enough workers to produce more than token cargoes."

"They're declaring American tobacco as their own?"

"And saving the tariffs, yes. The same with French rum and sugar. What they transship Jamaican rum to England is more than twice of what arrives from Kingston."

"We shall have to think of ways to suppress those practices," Thomas mused. "That is, unless you deem a little smuggling to be preferable to sowing discontent in the islands."

"It is indeed, my dear Sir Thomas. The merchants here faced a severe loss of business when their trade with American ports was disrupted by the Navy. Before the war of 1812, they did well trading with American and French trade goods, landed by American merchantmen. Not all the French brandies in the London clubs came from prize auctions."

"I can see that. Perhaps Captain Bryce and I will have to establish some relationship with the traders, to see how we can curb the smuggling without throttling the islands' livelihood.

"Sir Thomas, we must also beware of possible bribery," Robert threw in. "Those sloops patrol the coastline, and their commanders are not paid well. Without the prospect of prize monies, the temptation to receive an extra income from bribery cannot be ignored."

"Yes, I'm afraid that is not impossible," Argyll nodded. "One of my sergeants was disrated and flogged for accepting monies to look the other way. I rotate my men through those duties now."

Thomas nodded at Robert. "Let us rotate our sloops through the various stations. That should make bribes more difficult and expensive."

—————

Two days later, Thomas and his family had settled into Admiralty House, his land-based quarters. Harriet-Anne, too, had two rooms on the upper floor for her use. For the time being, Robert would only sleep ashore on special occasions. The house came with a staff, including a cook, and the first order of business was to stock larders and cellar with food and drink. Quite a lot of produce from their lands had been stored in Salsette's hold, together with ales from Surrey brewers, but fresh produce of good quality was available at the markets of St. George, too.

An admiralty-employed secretary was also in place, with whom Thomas went through the current business of the station. Hames had left everything in good order, but his complete failure to curb smuggling was evident from the left-behind paperwork. He decided that he had to at least catch a few of the rum or tobacco runners, but for that he had to learn more about the local traders, merchants and shipowners.

The opportunities for that came quickly enough. Within days, word spread around Bermuda that the Navy Station had a new commander. Thomas and Robert received enough invitations to last them for a month, and in rapid succession, the Greys and the Bryces dined with each of the more important men and their wives. All were delighted to entertain a certified naval hero, and even more so, to meet two women who were knowledgeable of the newest gossip from London, courtesy of an evening with the Ansons and the Carters, shortly before they had sailed. Robert, too, was easily accepted, due to his winsome personality.

Teresa and Catriona stopped accompanying them after the first two dinners, since neither of them were interested in being courted by one of the eligible bachelors Bermuda could boast. Teresa was still too young to be interested in any form of courtship, and rather spent her time painting watercolours of the beautiful vistas the island offered. Catriona Douglas often accompanied her, collecting strange-looking seashells on the beaches which she planned to bring home for her father. They kept each other's company and deepened their relationship to that of sisterly friends.

After three weeks, the invitations dwindled away, and Thomas was feeling relief. They knew most of the important and self-important islanders superficially now, but Thomas still had no idea of the true power structures.

On the naval side, he had already made some headway with the changes he wanted to implement. The sloops were now rotated through the various duties in his command, causing some discontent amongst the commanders. Salsette frequently left the harbour for patrols, staying away for days and patrolling the western approaches of Bermuda. Thomas noticed that Mister Warner, his secretary, tried to find out more about those cruises, but in truth, Thomas did not know himself where Robert would place his frigate in a given night. Yet, thinking about it, Thomas realised that bribing the permanent secretary would be cheaper and more effective for the smugglers.

Five weeks after their arrival, Thomas put his concerns to a test, dictating lengthy orders to Captain Bryce, directing him to patrol the southwestern approaches to Bermuda for a week, and to search all approaching merchantmen for contraband. The orders were sealed and sent to Salsette in Warner's presence, and they even saw the frigate leaving the harbour by the southern outlet, and past King's Castle.

Immediately afterwards, Thomas went upstairs to his private quarters, in time to see his secretary as he walked briskly towards the waterfront. Only minutes later, a boat left the quay, heading for an anchored American schooner, and with the waning light of the evening, he watched as the schooner left St. George harbour, too, and by the northern outlet. He could not help but rubbing his hands. The trap was laid and baited.

Two days later, in the early forenoon, Salsette entered the harbour with two captured vessels, a schooner and a typical Bermudian ketch, the former American and the latter British. Robert came ashore immediately and reported to Thomas with a triumphant smile.

"Sir, pursuant to your orders, we sailed around the islands out of sight and made a landfall at the northern sand banks. Yesterday, morning, we caught the Yankee schooner transferring tobacco bales to the ketch. She hails from Savannah."

"How much, Captain?" Thomas grinned back.

"Over two hundred 75-pound bales, Sir Thomas!"

"Who owns the ketch, Robert?"

"Mister Copley, a master-owner from Hamilton. We caught them just a mile north of the sands. The ketch was anchored, and they had the Yankee moored to her side. Our boats reached them before they could cast off."

"Excellent, Captain. Did Mister Copley name his cargo owner?"

"Yes. It's your friend, Mortimer Morten."

Thomas noticed that his secretary, Mister Warner, had paled and was staring at them. He sighed.

"Mister Warner, I believe it will be best for you to relinquish your post and return to England with the next ship. I believe your secondary employers will not be happy with you."

"Y-you knew?"

"You were just a bit too curious about the disposition of the squadron, Mister Warner. Right now, I have no proof, but that may change once Copley and Morten will be interrogated."

Warner swallowed heavily. "You'll have my resignation within the hour, Sir Thomas. Will you report me to the Admiralty?"

Thomas shrugged. "I must, but if I report that you came to me and confessed, I can recommend your dismissal with prejudice. You may even be able to keep your gains."

Warner nodded eagerly. "I'll offer my testimony, Sir Thomas. When I took over from Mister Surtees four years ago, this was all in place already, and the money was good."

"Hold yourself ready to give your testimony. I shall see to your transport to England afterwards. For now, it will be best if you follow Captain Bryce to the Salsette. You will be under arrest until we shall need your testimony."

"Yes, Sir Thomas. May I send a message to my wife?"

"Yes, but I want you to write it now, and I want to see it. Just tell her that you have to assist Captain Bryce and that you'll be away for a few days."

"Yes, Sir."

Thomas rang a bell, and one of the marine sentries showed.

"Find me a runner!"

"Aye-aye, Sir," the sentry answered stiffly and left.

Five minutes later, a young marines private reported, and Thomas sent him to the Governors residence with a billet, asking for His Excellency's time, whilst Robert sent Warner to the Salsette with orders to place the man under arrest.

An hour later, Thomas and Robert reported their findings to Brigadier Argyll. When they were finished, the governor thought briefly.

"If I understand you correctly, both the master of the ketch and your delinquent secretary can implicate Mister Morten?"

"Warner will still have to give his testimony. I do not know yet what he'll tell us," Thomas said truthfully. "The master implicated Morten, but has not testified formally either."

"I see. Well, let us move. Since I am also acting as Justice of the Peace for the colony ex officio, I can start the proceedings. Let me hear the testimony of those two this afternoon. Captain Bryce, can you sail to Hamilton and have your marines arrest Morten if I issue a warrant?"

"Certainly, Your Excellency," Robert nodded. "Right away?"

"Yes, I'll send a few men with you to fetch the Warner character, but we better move quickly."

"May I also have Morten's possession searched, your Excellency? We might find incriminating evidence, such as American bale wrappings," Robert suggested.

"A very good point, that, my dear Captain. I'll detach one of my men with you who knows the way to Morton's plantation. Let me write that warrant now!"

Argyll could certainly act without ado, Thomas noted with satisfaction, when Robert left the residence not ten minutes later with one of the governor's staff, and a half hour later, the captured master of the ketch and Warner were brought before Argyll, now in his justice persona and with his court scribe and an attorney acting for the crown in presence.

The captain of the small ketch was only too willing to shift all blame to the owner of the cargo, even producing a contract signed by Morten. Then it was Warner's turn, and he, too, held nothing back, describing how he had been inducted into his position with the system of bribery already in place. He named two St. George traders and five in Hamilton as contributing to the six pounds Sterling he received monthly for information about when and where Navy vessels were detached. To his knowledge, the masters of the Navy sloops were in the dark about this.

The American skipper claimed ignorance about the intent of his buyer, but he could not explain why he had shifted cargo out at sea. Once he realised how ludicrous his explanations were, he, too, admitted to the intended evasion of customs tariffs.

Argyll then ruled ships and cargoes seized, since both had been inside British waters when they were caught. The schooner was a fine, Savannah-built clipper, and the ketch would fetch a good price, too. Salsette's officers and crew could expect a windfall of monies, with one eighth of the value going to the commodore, namely Thomas. It was an auspicious start to his command.

—————

Salsette returned in mid-forenoon on the next day, with prisoners and more contraband. Morten and one of his foremen were shackled when brought ashore. Morten had resisted the arrest and fired upon the approaching marines, with a few of his men joining. Morten and his foreman were the only survivors, but , two of Salsette's marines were also landed with shot wounds.

Thomas barely recognised Morten. The man had aged considerably, his face showing the traces of debauchery, enhanced by an angry scowl. The two prisoners were roughly pushed towards the governor's residence where Robert Bryce gave his report and presented the collected evidence for smuggling.

Mortimer Morten was not one of leading colonist and being a cantankerous man, he was not well liked. He had quarrelled often with neighbours and business partners, and Argyll, as the Justice of the Peace, could not hope to find impartial jurors. He therefore assembled a jury from four groups of colonists, traders, merchants, garrison officers, and freemen. For two days, those twelve men heard the evidence and witness accounts. Since Thomas had not been directly involved, he followed the proceedings as a spectator, but Robert gave evidence, both about Morten's arrest and the capture of the two smuggling vessels.

The most serious charge against Morten was the incitation of unrest against the Crown, for having his men fire at the Royal Marines, who carried out the arrest warrant, and that charge was indisputable. The lesser charges of smuggling and evasion of tariffs was harder to sell to the businessmen amongst the jury. Yet, when Morten's defender questioned him, the man ruined himself by an angry tirade against the jurors he knew personally, and by insulting the three freemen in the jury.

In the end, the jurors needed but ten minutes to reach verdicts of guilty on all counts. With that, Argyll closed the proceedings for the day, promising the sentencing for the next day. When the small courtroom cleared of spectators, Argyll gave Thomas a sign to follow him.

Together they walked the short distance to the governor's mansion.

"I am leery of sentencing a man to death," Argyll admitted under his breath.

Thomas shrugged. "What else can you do, Your Excellency? Two Royal Marines were shot on his instigation, and one of them may lose his leg. The surgeon cannot say if they will survive."

"Yes, that's a quandary. If he were a soldiers, I could have him flogged. We don't have a prison to hold him for life, and he's too old for deportation to Botany Bay."

"Sending him to England and to prison will be bad for morale, Your Excellency. The soldiers won't take kindly to him being whisked away."

"That's true, too. Yet, to have one of the colonists hanged may damage the loyalty of the colony to the Crown."

"He has no friends amongst the important people here. I believe, he has no friends at all. He not only had my two marines shot, but he is also responsible for four of his men being shot to death by the marines. If you wish to save a little face with the colonists, you can make it known that I insisted on a death sentence, Your Excellency. It will be the fitting punishment, it will satisfy my crews, and you can — I'm sorry — wash your hands. Everybody gains something, excepting Morten."

Argyll shook his head. "I am too much of a Christian to play the Pilate. No, I believe that you are correct. I must find other ways to placate the colonists."

"We could auction the contraband here, Your Excellency. The locals would profit from that," Thomas suggested. "The owners of that ketch can buy it back, too, and her master can be fined moderately. We'll send the American schooner to England, but we let her captain free. That should show that you care about the colonists' interests."

"Yes, that's something to think about. The proceeds from the sales go to your ships anyway. You have given me something to think about, Sir Thomas. I'll sleep over the matter and then give you my decision tomorrow, before I'll issue the sentence."

"Thank you, Your Excellency, for hearing me," Thomas said nicely. "I am confident that you will arrive at a just decision."

—————

As promised, Argyll pronounced his sentence in the forenoon of the next day. Again, the small courtroom was fill to capacity. Morten appeared to be cowed and apprehensive, as he had the right to be.

"Mortimer Morten, a jury of your peers found you guilty of various severe charges, chief of all instigating unrest against the crown, causing grave injury to two privates of the Royal Marines regiment, but also leading to the death of four of your helpers. The punishment for that will be death by hanging."

Argyll paused looking at the condemned.

"The execution will be held in abeyance for three months, giving you time to petition His Royal Highness, the Prince-Regent, for a pardon. For the crimes of smuggling and evading customs tariffs, you are sentenced to penal servitude in His Majesty's colony of Botany Bay. Your possessions and goods are forfeit to the Crown. The assize is closed."

"Your Excellency, how can my client petition for clemency with his goods and possession seized?" Morten's defender asked urgently.

"You can write, can't you?" Argyll asked the man.

"Yes, Your Excellency, but it takes funds to make oneself heard at court."

"I gave your client a chance to ask for clemency, not to bribe himself to freedom," Argyll answered coldly. "If your client has friends, one of them may even offer the funds for you to travel to London."

Looking at Morten, Thomas could see the effect of the sentences. The man was in an unholy fury, and suddenly he looked up at Argyll and screamed. "Damn you, you hear! Damn your eyes, you bloody nincompoop! Everybody here smuggles! Look at them all, with their self-righteous faces. They all cheat you and the bloody Crown. You hear? They all shift cargoes away from St. George! They're all as guilty as I am. I've proof, too! I can bring all of you down!"

"Bailiff, have the prisoner transported to King's Castle tomorrow!" Argyll ordered. "Gag him if he won't be still! Mister Cheltenham, inform your client that the abeyance is cut to ten weeks, and if he continues disturbing my courtroom, it will be shortened further!"

As Thomas watched the event with incredulity, a blonde woman from the spectator seats openly laughed at Morten. She was small and slender, with blonde hair and a pretty face that was slightly marred by a scar at the top of her forehead. As the bailiff, with the help of three garrison soldiers, manhandled Morten out of the box, she approached the manacled man.

"Now you're going to Hell, Mortimer Morten! I'm going to watch when they'll string you up, and then I'll go home to my husband and give myself to him happily, knowing that you'll rot in a pauper's grave! I'll salt it, too, to make sure it's going to be as barren as your dirty soul! You hear that? I'll have the last laugh!"

Morten threw back his head to spit at the woman, but one of the soldiers hit him in the mouth.

"Let Evie Campbell have her say," the soldier laughed. "She had to wait long enough."

"Order in the courtroom!" the bailiff intoned, but Thomas saw mirth in his eyes. "Better go home now, Missus Campbell. You have a good man and a good life now. Don't waste your happiness on this scoundrel."

Fighting for control, the woman nodded. Thomas already knew who she was. Eighteen years are a long time, but he still remembered the small girl bleeding from her forehead whilst Morten beat on her with his walking stick. He approached her.

"Missus Campbell?"

She whirled around, still angry, but then she saw the Admiral's uniform and stepped back.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you remember the three ship's boys who beat Morten up, in 1801 'twas?"

Her eyes went wide at first, but then she squinted at Thomas. "You were the tall one? I mean, Sir, er… S-sir Thomas?"

"I am happy to see that you escaped the man. We were all punished for brawling with him, but seeing you today, makes it worth the caning."

"Th-thank you, S-sir Thomas. You likely saved my life back then. The swine would have beaten me to death."

"You're married?"

"The Campbells bought my indenture. They treated me like I was family. Jamie, Jamie Campbell, the second-oldest son, he's my husband now. He's skipper in one of the Campbells' ketches, mostly trading with Boston."

"That sounds like a happy outcome. May I ask for your birth name?"

"Evie, Evie McLeod, Sir Thomas."

"Well, Missus Campbell, I shan't keep you. Just keep reminding yourself that but for Morten's violent temper, you would have never met your husband."

"Oh! You are right of course, Sir Thomas. I'll keep that in mind."

2. Running the Station

June 1819

Meeting Evie Campbell née McLeod made Thomas aware of a rather heartless oversight on his part. Whilst he had met and socialised with his friends from the Academy, he had never even tried to find out about the fates of the dear friends he'd had in the Cormorant. Tim O'Leary came to his mind, his protector, but also Jimmy Wilkerson and Al Burton, the pardoned mutineers, who had taken him under their wings. Then there had been fellow ship's boys Marty Crows and Jamie Dougal, his partners in crime, so to speak, and good mates. It would ease his conscience to find out about their fates and perhaps render them assistance, if needed.