CHAPTER TWELVE
It was a fine summer's day, Monday the 18th of August 1806, as Lord Claremont of the Admiralty awaited the pleasure of the King and his court. George William Frederick, King George III had summoned Claremont to Windsor Castle upon hearing the testimony of William Wilberforce and the massive losses inflicted on the navy by thirteen men aboard a small ship.
Lord Claremont's trip to Berkshire from Portsmouth by road had not been without discomfort and he felt tired and short-tempered when led into a grand room decorative beyond sanity. The King was seated at the head of a long table which was able to take twenty-four ridiculously majestic chairs bound in gold and silk upon oak, while four members of his direct court sat either side of him. Claremont, a ground up man, had never been impressed with pompous splendor. However he appreciated the fact that some of his proposed, unorthodox tactics, carried on from Nelson on navy structure and tactics, may get an airing. Claremont stood to one side of the table on the King’s right between the king and the first member of his court. It was unusual but King George spoke directly to Claremont.
"Can you confirm that a small ship, a brigantine as described to me, with less than twenty crew and eight carronade cannon sank four of our warships of the line, And that a schooner in the service of the King was also attacked and a member of our governing body, namely William Wilberforce, was taken prisoner?”
"I can confirm all you have said my King."
King George dropped the paper he had in his hand to the table looking sideways at Claremont. "Do you see any reason why I should not stand you down or even have you thrown in chains?"
"I have for many years stated the tactics of the navy and her fleet must change with the times. The French are testing ships with steam engines and steel hulls impregnable to cannon fire."
King George rose to his feet glaring at Claremont. "Damned impertinence man! How dare you address me in that manner?"
"I am Admiral of the British fleet and loyal to king and country. To pander to petty egos is not my position. Our fleet has been challenged by a tactic even Nelson aspired to. Sir Francis Drake was pushing this with Queen Elizabeth as far back as fifteen eighty. If you wish not to listen I remind you we are at war with the French and Spanish. If throwing your Admiral of the Fleet in chains is the tactic you prefer God help us."
King George walked to the end door of the great hall and slammed the door behind as he left. His right hand man Lord Dreyfus spoke quietly after the room was silent for a while.
"Sit down please." Claremont sat at the head of the table where the king had been sitting. "The King wished to see the character of the man leading our navy. The King had the utmost respect for Nelson. I'm sure when you speak again he will respect you as much. The King would now be sure that the Admiral of our navy is no whimpering fool but a man with vision and courage. Any man who speaks to a king in that manner has courage. We have lost four mighty warships and a ship in the service of the king. Fial McGuire and a ship called the Ghost of McMurrin… this man was one of our most respected seamen. What happened?"
"From the stories from Wilberforce his family was decimated by British soldiers. His real name is Fial McMurrin and he is a very angry man. His crew are mainly black slaves and he has two other Irish patriots aboard, also very capable seamen and loyal to Society of United Irishmen."
"This man was a highly decorated member of the British navy. He fought alongside Nelson at Trafalgar. When on the Dryad he took more booty than any other captain we have known. The King is declaring him a pirate and putting a price on his head."
"We will not catch this man by force; he has spent years preparing himself to attack us. He sailed right up to Westminster in the middle of the night and delivered a member of the government and sailed right out to sea again. Do you realize how much seamanship and courage that requires? A crew of black slaves… we are a laughing stock. His ship has the figurehead of a dagger; I understand what he means. A sword is always powerful and in sight; a dagger I cannot see and its wound is fatal. You will only catch this man by being smarter than he for we have no one with as much courage. They say his ship is faster than the wind, and he uses tactics he knows we cannot foil. He exploits every weak point of our warships."
"What do you suggest we do?"
"We need this man with us not against us. Declare him a pirate and he may consider us an enemy forever. If you declare him a pirate, then catch him alive and if he will not change his ways be rid of him."
"He has a son in Cork, Ireland we have been informed and visits him occasionally."
Claremont warmed to the news. "A weakness he cannot run from. I will make the necessary plans to wait for his attendance in Cork. We may have to wait for a while but this is the best chance we have. A man will not desert his son."
"We need to bolster the home fleet to discourage any more of his antics."
"The more ships you bring home the more targets you give him. This man will not be swayed by the power or might of the sword. It is something else that drives him; we need to find out what and see if we can harness it for our own devices."
"The King has made it clear this man must hang from our mightiest ship to make an example to his kind. The realm is becoming less tolerant of pirates and Corsairs. Your ideas of smaller, faster vessels will be discussed at court level and some assistance for those who are building new ships of steel powered by steam will be seriously considered. The court is in favor of a twenty year plan to include these things."
"This pirate as you describe him has already convinced the court of more than the entire Admiralty has over the past twenty years." Claremont stood and put on his hat. "I’ll catch this man but I doubt executing him will be successful, especially for us." He walked towards the great hall entrance and before he got out of earshot he turned to the members of the court. "As I slide down the banister of life gentlemen I will always remember the Ghost of McMurrin as a splinter up my arse"