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| Transfer of Power (open) | |
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| Topic Started: 3 Jun 2009, 03:41 AM (278 Views) | |
| Admiral Lord Heyworth | 3 Jun 2009, 03:41 AM Post #1 |
NPC
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Heyworth dropped the letter onto his desk, and sighed, a move prompting a fit of coughing. He reached around blindly for his 'kerchief, and grabbing something cloth-like, he coughed into it until his fit subsided. Careful to regulate his breathing as to not prompt any more trouble, he pulled the cloth back, and frowned with displeasure at it. It was not the handkerchief he had been looking for, but rather was his spare cravat. It looked like he'd have to find another one of those to bring with him in the future. Especially if he were going to continue to cough up what he had been bringing up. Mortality had never seemed such a sure concept. He glanced back down at the letter. Its contents were...not unexpected. He was fortunate that he had read it during his more lucid times, or he might have read it as an order to attack all Spanish vessels in the area, a move which would not have been helpful, or easily disowned. Rather, it was his orders telling him to place the next ranking officer in charge. It was carefully worded so as to not question his ability as an officer or commander, but it was evident that reports of his ability were getting back to Whitehall, and that the Sea Lords no longer felt it safe to have a senile man commanding the entire West Indian Fleet. Heyworth had his doubts about St Montgomery being capable enough as a commander for the duty he was about to receive, but he had no choice. The man was next in line, and while his short tenure as Commodore had already proven that the man was at the least a poor leader of men, and at worst a vindictive man set advancing himself with no heed to the cost, there was nothing Heyworth could do now to change that fact. He wished that Norrington hadn't pulled that foolish stunt and fled the court martial. If he hadn't, he would be the one becoming Rear Admiral, and Heyworth wouldn't have been forced to elevate St Montgomery to the rank of Commodore. But then again, you make your decisions, and you live with them. Or those who you leave behind must live with them. Heyworth reached for a sheet of parchment. There was much to be arranged. |
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| Major Lord Edrington | 11 Jun 2009, 04:07 PM Post #2 |
Deckhand
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Headquarters, 29th Foot, Major Lord Edrington, Commanding Kingston, Jamaica "What in the name of..." Edrington said. He went back to the beginning and skimmed through the letter again, looking as if he half expected the wording to change. "I would never have thought..." he said, handing them off to one of his officers. He moved behind his desk and went for some paper to start his own correspondences, and to prepare for the 29th to break camp. " 'Ordered to take over the enforcement of order in Port Royale...,' " Standish read. He lowered the paper and looked at Edrington over his specs. "I don't suppose they've truly thought this through, have they, sir?" Edrington sat down and gave Standish an annoyed look, as he carefully tried to open his inkwell without spilling it all over. "I am entirely sure that they've given the matter as much thought as it requires." Standish scoffed, "Well, of course they have." Sensing his commander's impatience with his comments he explained. "You'd think that they'd be entirely unaware that Port Royale has gone through a mutiny not long back." "I do believe that the costs incurred were enough to catch even their attention," Edrington countered, "the tensions between the East India Company and the Navy spilled over. By removing the Navy to Kingston, there'll be a bay to separate the two forces." "A bay?" Standish noted with some amusement. "Granted not as much distance as is needed, but they shall no longer be in direct contact, and at least here St Montgomery's actions will face closer scrutiny as an Admiral." Standish snorted. "St Montgomery is going to be trouble wherever he is. He doesn't need the help of a higher rank to achieve that." "As inclined as I am to agree with that statement," Edrington said, "there is little we can do. We have our orders, we must follow them." "It's not going to solve the problem, you see," Standish said, dropping the letter down on Edrington's desk, and removing his glasses and placing them carefully in his pocket, "The problem hasn't been the Navy, not until St Montgomery. It's all the military forces around. Scoff as you may at the Company being one, they have the added weapon of economics with them. So long as they have exclusive trading rights in the colonies, and the forces to enforce them, we're going to see a populace who is going to do more than bristle at the interference. They saw the Navy there primarily to defend, they're going to see us moving in as an occupation. Especially as the Company uses its forces for themselves, not protecting everyone." Edrington looked up from his letter, his quill resting against the paper allowing more ink to spread. "I never thought you one to study politics and people." Standish shrugged, "We've got little else to do here. Besides, in the long run, being informed of these facts is what is going to help us. We can't just look at these colonies as a source of income, we've got to keep in mind that colonists are hardy folk who have gone a while without our interference. They may consider themselves British...but I'm not entirely sure that they are. Not anymore." "Are we quite done?" Edrington asked. "Yes, sir." "Then we have work to do." Standish nodded, saluting and left, leaving Edrington alone with his letter. This was a mistake, that was certain. But it seemed ever since he'd gotten out here everything was a mishmash of bad decisions and judgments. Making a good call...now that would be something rare. |
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| Admiral Lord Heyworth | 14 Jun 2009, 04:39 AM Post #3 |
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NPC
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Herbert Street Kingstong, Jamaica Admiral Lord Heyworth & Civilians Often now, with his deteriorating state, Heyworth was kept from the public as often as was humanly possible. The risk that he might mistake a loyal British citizen as a Spaniard, or some sort of enemy was too high. And not only was the risk too high that he might mistake one as an enemy, there were other things that could confuse him and cause him to take actions that would be regrettable. And regrettable actions came in far many more flavours than simply mistaking a man as an enemy. Unfortunately though, his staff, who more now than ever were his handlers and those who would run interference to prevent incidents, had not quite succeeded in keeping Heyworth from going out, and furthermore, were not quite successful in keeping him from going out with company who were versed well enough to control him. It was quite a stunning day in England--surprisingly so, Heyworth noted. He was not quite sure he had ever felt such heat there, or seen such a clear sky and lovely weather. And indeed! Look, they had managed to import and grow those lovely palm trees as well. Truly a delight! "Sir, if I may inquire...?" A man had approached him as he was wandering the streets. Ah, he thought, A true English chap at last! How long have I longed to visit my own home.... "There are rumours involving your retirement?" the man prompted, as the young lievtenant who was trying to control the situation tried to physically block him off, but failed. "Retirement?" Heyworth asked, quite appalled that the man would think that he, a young and virile man not yet even thirty, would retire. What did they think him? Some sort of no-good layabout? But there were orders, weren't there? He vaguely recalled something about being recalled to England...and handing over command to St Montgomery... "St Mongtomery is taking command..." he said with a distracted air. How odd, he thought looking about, I could have sworn that I was just in England...did I sleep through the entire journey? Was I drunk? "Commodore St Montgomery, sir?" the man asked, much to the chagrin of the lievtenant, who was now sweating buckets wondering when he would be dismissed from his post for failing so dismally. "Who else?" he asked, wondering why Spain was so blasted hot during the rainy season. "Thank you very much, sir!" the man said rushing off, leaving Heyworth wondering why exactly the Spaniards spoke such great English. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 14 Jun 2009, 06:15 PM Post #4 |
Master of Puppets
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All things considered, it was laughably easy to follow Admiral Heyworth after he had left his offices. Major Brent, with his valet closely in tow, kept back at a measured distance as the admiral and one of his officers meandered along through the streets. It was equally easy to send his valet ahead to intercept the man. Brent hung back while his valet struck up a conversation with the admiral, but it was hardly difficult to see the daze that hung around Heyworth like a shroud. How very fitting, Brent thought. It took only a few minutes before his valet returned, having completed his mission. Brent listened to the man's report as they walked quickly back toward the marines' compound. His valet had done a fine job. So the fools of the Port Royal squadron would be sending their biggest fool to take over the Kingston squadron. This did not bode well for them. Before going directly to Colonel Trombley's office, Brent gave his valet three shillings and sent him on his way. It really did pay to have a former actor on his staff. Trombley was not pleased by the news Brent related. He would not have known about the developments until much later, knowing Heyworth, had not Brent been quick enough to follow and intercept the admiral. The feeble-minded old fool. So the commodore from Port Royal was to become admiral in Heyworth's place. The revelation defied belief. Clearly Heyworth had no faith in his own flag-captain. The two senior marines spent nearly an hour discussing the possible consequences of such a change of command. No matter how they looked at it, it was not likely to end well for them or their men. Their meeting was about to break up when the sentry outside thumped on the door and gruffly announced that there was a visitor. A moment later, Brent's valet came tumbling in and declared that there was unusual movement in the encampment belonging to the Twenty-Ninth Regiment. The valet's description of the activity was a close match to the sort of activity that was expected when a regiment was preparing to break camp. It was too closely-timed to the news about St Montgomery's promotion and Heyworth's retirement to be purely coincidental. Trombley sent both Brent and his valet out to find out more about what was happening, then, scowling, grabbed a blank sheet of parchment from the satchel on the corner of his desk. He might not know for certain what was going on, but he sure as hell could warn Captain Stevenson about possible trouble. Anything relating with St Montgomery meant trouble. It was not long before Brent returned with more news. It was not good. Trombley promptly tore up the letter he had been writing and reached for a fresh sheet. It was more than simply warning Stevenson about possible trouble. Whatever Heyworth was playing at, he had apparently forgotten that there were marines from his own squadron in Port Royal, carrying out the same duties that the Twenty-Ninth was being sent to take over. The company in Port Royal was to be recalled without delay. There was no other option. It was a damned insult to the reputation and honour of his marines, but he would be damned if he would allow the Army to reach that town while his marines were still there. It was simply good fortune that Trombley had officers with friends in that regiment, not to mention servants with particular skills, or he would not have known about any of this until it was too late. He was going to have words with the admiral about this. Damn that feeble-minded old fool! |
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| Major Lord Edrington | 6 Jul 2009, 07:19 PM Post #5 |
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Deckhand
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Headquarters, 29th Foot, Major Lord Edrington, Commanding Kingston, Jamaica Standish was just approaching the door to Edrington's temporary office, when it opened and out popped a tiny little midget. Upon closer inspection it was a young-faced boy, a bit of peach fuzz apparent on his upper lip. He wore the dark blue frock of the navy, with tiny white rectangles on his collar--a midshipman. The boy, upon seeing Standish, knuckled his forehead in salute, and donned his tricorne, before walking past. Standish turned to watch the midshipman leave, even his small frame and light weight causing the floorboard to creak as he stepped on them. "'E'll see yuh now, sir," one of the sentries said. As he entered, Edrington's back was to him, facing the window and looking out. He was curious to know the reason why the young middie had been present, but it was not his place to interrogate his superiour officer on whom came to see him, and to what purpose. "How are the preparations going?" Edrington asked. Standish nodded, "Well, Milord. We are ready to break camp when you wish." "Hmmm," was the only response Standish received. "Milord?" "Yes?" "If I may inquire as to when we intend to leave for Port Royale?" Edrington released a long breath before he spoke, "that, would rather have been dependent on our orders." Standish cocked his head to the side, and took several steps forward and around the desk so that he was looking out the window. "Would have been?" he asked, observing his commander. The corner of Edrington's mouth tightened. "However, as Admiral Heyworth is currently unable to give any orders, and we have received none from England regarding the matter, it is entirely up to us as to when we leave." "Ah," Standish said, "Have you decided yet, Milord?" Edrington turned and gave Standish a look, which communicated as well as any words that he clearly hadn't, otherwise he would have already given them. "Silly question," Standish admitted. "I think we shall wait until Rear Admiral St Montgomery arrives. If we leave now, we'll be leaving Kingston in the hands of man who is not entirely...sane." "There is," Standish said, "his flag captain to lead." Edrington shook his head. "Surely he is not so incompetent?" "It is not an issue of competency. If Heyworth, God forbid, were to forget we are at peace, his men should be duty-bound to follow his orders. Such ones as can lead us all to trouble. They'd have to declare him unfit to command. A solution which no one in the end wishes. "No, it is better for us to stay here, and ensure that they continue to keep Heyworth locked in his offices, with no contact with others save for his personal staff. Once St Montgomery comes, it becomes his problem." Standish grinned, "a pity we can't let Heyworth out and let him mistake St Montgomery as a frog. I think the results would rather be to our liking." Edrington snorted, "make sure the men are ready to move out once St Montgomery is here. I do not wish to spend one second more than I have to in the same city as that man." "Very good, Milord," Standish said, before bowing slightly and leaving. Edited by Major Lord Edrington, 6 Jul 2009, 07:19 PM.
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