Dead Reckoning (37 page)

But I have been lucky and intend to run no further risks on the homeward voyage. Once I have dropped anchor at Anneville I shall not readily make sail again. Do please take great care of your dear self in the meanwhile. In years of separation I have never forgotten you for a minute. You have always been in my thoughts and now the moment is near when you will be in my arms.

Until then believe me always,

Your affectionate husband,

Richard Delancey

Delancey's homeward passage from the Cape was uneventful and he managed to keep his squadron together. On September 5th 1811, he sailed into Spithead and saluted the flag of the Commander-in-Chief. The day was fine and much of the Channel Fleet was there in magnificent array. The
Minerva
was followed by the
Clorinde
and
Fidèle
in strict formation, each captured ship flying the white ensign over the tricolour. The
Minerva
was cheered by all the other men-of-war as she came into the anchorage. When Delancey landed at the sally-port, on his way to call on the Port Admiral, he was cheered again by a crowd collected there. He had the unusual sensation of being the hero of the hour. That the hour would soon pass he knew, having no illusions about that, but it was a moment he would remember and a recognition which his men deserved. Nor was the Port Admiral other than friendly:

“Captain Delancey, I am honoured to welcome you home and am happy to assure you that your fame has gone before you. I have a signal from the Admiralty directing that you report at
once to the Senior Naval Member of the Board, bringing with you Lieutenants Northmore and Topley. I now hand you an order to that effect, directing you to come ashore. Allowing you an hour or two in which to collect your gear, I have booked a postchaise for you at midday and you will be at the Admiralty before their Lordships will all have left the office. I am honoured to be among the first to congratulate you but I know that I shall not be the last. Any officer who has captured an enemy ship of equal rate as the result of a single-ship duel has always been given some public recognition. To capture
two
enemy ships in such an action is an outstanding feat of arms, one for which I cannot recall an exact parallel. In a brilliant campaign, the details of which will be familiar to you, Captain Josias Rowley recaptured the
Afticaine,
retook the
Ceylon,
and received the surrender of the
Venus.
He was not, however, alone, and he did not meet all these opponents at the same time. My guess is that Lieutenant the Hon. Stephen Northmore will be given post rank and that Lieutenant Topley will be made Commander; promotions made out of compliment to you. His Royal Highness the Prince Regent is aware of your achievements, I should add, and has already expressed his approbation in what I understand to have been very generous terms.”

Delancey knew better than to mention these possibilities to Northmore and Topley. He merely told them to wear their best uniforms and be ready to leave for London at noon. By the late afternoon their post-chaise rolled into the forecourt of the Admiralty building and Delancey hastened to present himself to the clerk on duty. In years past he could remember being told to wait on such an occasion, and had waited indeed for hours, but he now sensed a different atmosphere.

“Sir Richard will see you at once, sir,” he was told. In a few
minutes he stood in the presence of Admiral Sir Richard Bickerton, to whom he was presented by Mr John Wilson Croker, Secretary to the Board.

“Captain Delancey, Sir Richard,” said Croker, “with two of his officers.”

“Your servant, Sir Richard,” said Delancey. “Allow me to present the Hon. Mr Stephen Northmore and Mr Topley.”

“Glad to make your acquaintance, Captain Delancey, and glad to meet these other gentlemen. May I take the opportunity of conveying to you the approbation of the Board on the occasion of a notable feat of arms? The First Lord wishes to see you before he goes . . . Mr Croker, is the First Lord free?”

“Mr Barrow tells me, Sir Richard, that Sir Robert Barlow is with him at the moment but will be gone in a few minutes. Perhaps you will be good enough to follow me, gentlemen.”

Delancey followed Mr Croker down a corridor and into an office adjoining that of the First Lord, the Rt. Hon. Charles Philip Yorke, son of a former Lord Chancellor. He there made the acquaintance of Mr Frederic Edgcumb, the First Lord's Private Secretary.

“The Commissioner of Portsmouth Dockyard is with the First Lord now but Mr Yorke will be free to see you very shortly.”

Delancey responded with a bow and Edgcumb was promptly accosted by two other clerks who showed him a document and conferred with him on some obscure but urgent problem. Messengers came and went and there was a continued buzz of activity. Finally, an elderly gentleman emerged from the First Lord's office and Edgcumb showed him out with some little ceremony, saying finally “Good-bye, Sir Robert.” A minute later he looked briefly into the inner room and, turning back, said: “Captain Delancey, the First Lord will see you and the other gentlemen
now.” And now Delancey was in the presence of Mr Yorke, a politician he knew only by name, a previous Home Secretary and one for whom his present office was actually to be his last. He was affable, bland, and careful to say no more than was fitting to the occasion.

“Captain Delancey, I am glad to see you and add my congratulations to all those you will already have received. I also have the honour of conveying to you the official approbation of the Board of Admiralty.”

“Thank you, sir. Allow me to present the Hon. Mr Stephen Northmore and Mr Topley, both of His Majesty's frigate
Minerva.
”

“Glad to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. I have to congratulate you on the success of your recent action, which was highly creditable to all who took part in it. In recognition of your gallantry on this occasion, the Board of Admiralty has decided to advance you, Mr Northmore, to post rank and you, Mr Topley, to the rank of master and commander. You both merit this promotion and I have no doubt at all will more than justify the good opinion of you which the Board is thus pleased to signify. Captain Northmore and Captain Topley, I will now ask you to retire while I have a further word with Captain Delancey.”

Northmore and Topley murmured some words of thanks, bowed deeply, and withdrew.

“It is my privilege to inform you, Captain Delancey, that His Royal Highness the Prince Regent has instructed me to present you to him at tomorrow's levee—you and your two officers, on the occasion of their promotion. Be so good as to call here tomorrow at half-past nine. I shall then take you over to Carlton House. His Royal Highness leaves for Brighton in a few days' time—it is fortunate that you were able to reach London so soon, as you might otherwise have had to follow him there.”

“I am indeed honoured, sir, by the Prince's kind notice of me and will wait on you tomorrow.”

Delancey had never attended a levee and knew little or nothing about court etiquette. Many other officers would have seen a special significance in the First Lord's invitation but his chief concern was with the state of his uniform after years in the East. There was certainly no time to replace anything. If he was worried about his appearance, Northmore and Topley were more worried and probably with more reason. Northmore's sword was barely adequate and Topley's could only be described as shabby. They dispersed on leaving the Admiralty, each with some idea of borrowing from friends. Delancey, for his part, went to stay with old Colonel Barrington in St James's Square. Although almost bedridden, the Colonel was glad to see him and asked whether Fiona was also to be expected.

“Indeed I hope so,” said Delancey, “but all depends upon whether and when she received my letter from the Cape.”

“Ah, I have missed seeing her all these years. She is the sort of person one never forgets. And so you have returned in triumph at last? I read the gazette letters about your action. You have really excelled the hopes of all your friends. We shall yet see you commanding a fleet!”

“I don't think that probable, sir. I was not given post rank soon enough. But I've done sufficient to have gained some little reputation. I seek no more than a name for having done my best.”

“Fiddlesticks, man! We all regard you as a hero and I shall be surprised if the Prince Regent fails to think as we do. In any case we shall dine here tomorrow and celebrate your return. And bring these two officers of yours! Where are they lodging? I must send a servant to find them.” This was done and messages received that they would be happy to accept.

There was no sign of Fiona that night and Delancey told himself that he was unreasonable in thinking that she would go further than Portsmouth. She would know by now that he was in England or anyway she would know by tomorrow from the newspapers. On reaching Portsmouth she would learn that he had gone to London and would guess the rest. But she would, of course, be too tired after the voyage to go any further. He would find her at the George, no doubt of it; and indeed in Guernsey as likely as not. He had been guilty of the schoolboy error of thinking that facts known to oneself must be known to everyone else. He had no reason, after all, to assume that she even read the newspapers. As for his letter from the Cape, the ship to which it was entrusted could have been delayed. She would not have received it at all and it might not be delivered until some time next week. Poor Fiona had been compelled to learn patience over the years, almost like the wife of Ulysses, and it would be strange indeed if she showed impatience now instead of waiting sensibly at the one place where he was certain to present himself. He slept badly that night and woke several times to assure himself that Fiona was still in Guernsey and could not possibly be in London on the morrow.

Next day at the Admiralty the First Lord looked him over and all but deplored his shabby appearance. As for Northmore and Topley, he glanced at them and looked away again with an ill-suppressed shudder. He waved them all into his carriage, nevertheless, and they presently found themselves in a traffic jam. Pall Mall, St James's Street, and the Haymarket were all blocked with carriages and they did well to reach Carlton House in time. Delancey then found himself following Mr Yorke upstairs to the first floor room where the levee was to be held.

So far there had been an element of confusion but at this point
equerries took over and began placing everybody in their proper place. The First Lord was now given due consideration as a Minister of the Crown. With Delancey and the other two officers he was placed at no great distance from the red carpet where the Prince was to stand. Military uniforms tended to predominate and the buzz of conversation was punctuated by the jingle of spurs and the clatter of swords. More junior officers looked awkward and nervous. More senior officers made it sufficiently clear that they had attended so many similar functions that the whole thing had become a bore. The First Lord fretted a little over the Regent's late arrival, hinting in effect that he had more important work to do. He presently fell into conversation with Lord Liverpool, the Secretary for War, who had with him a recently appointed Major-General and two Colonels, one of the Dragoon Guards and the other of the Royal Engineers. Delancey would have liked to tell Northmore who all the dignitaries were but he could himself recognize only two or three, Lord Moira being one of them and Lord Bathurst another. He knew that the Prime Minister, Mr Spencer Perceval, was supposed to be there but he failed to identify him. At long last a court official called out “His Royal Highness the Prince Regent,” and the levee fairly began.

The Regent, whom Delancey now saw for the first time, was forty-eight but looked much older. He was grossly overweight although not quite as fat as he had been, and he had been crammed with difficulty into the elaborate uniform of a Field-Marshal. He was the more often so dressed in that the rank was one to which he had aspired in vain as long as his father ruled. Years of dissipation had left their mark on him but he was as charming as ever and as polite to everyone. With him was the Duke of Cumberland, of whom the Regent took little notice, and Lord Moira, with whom he was evidently on the best of terms.
There was much bowing and scraping and the Prince finally took up his expected position and the presentations began. When the First Lord of the Admiralty saw his opportunity, he led Delancey forward and said:

“I hope your Royal Highness will allow me the honour of presenting Captain Delancey, lately commanding the frigate
Minerva.
”

“I had thought the Delanceys were all soldiers. Oliver Delancey is a General, surely, and William is doing great things in the Peninsula. Are you related to them, Captain Delancey?”

“We are cousins, your Royal Highness.”

“And you, I gather, are rivalling your cousins in distinction. I heard with great pleasure of your successful action in the West Indies—”

A secretary whispered something in the Prince's ear. “I mean, in the East Indies. Your capture of a French frigate will long be remembered as a notable feat of arms and one very creditable to the Royal Navy.”

The First Lord intervened at this point.

“Your Royal Highness should know that Captain Delancey fought
two
French frigates off Madagascar and captured them both; a most unusual achievement—one almost without example.”

“Ah, to be sure.
Two
frigates! Most remarkable!” The secretary was whispering again in the Prince's ear.

“Yes, yes, of course,” said the Regent. As if by magic a footstool was thrust into position and a sword placed in the Regent's hand.

“Kneel,” was the First Lord's stage direction and Delancey knelt. The secretary whispered again, evidently to convey the first name correctly. The sword tapped Delancey's shoulder.

“Rise, Sir Richard Delancey!” said the Regent. Delancey rose, stepped back and bowed deeply. He then spoke his own piece.