Ships of Oak, Men of Iron: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 10)

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Ships of Oak, Men of Iron: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 10) Page 1

by Richard Testrake




  Ships of Oak,

  Men of Iron

  Richard Testrake

  Copyright © 2015

  Richard Testrake

  All rights reserved

  Dedicated to my wife Peggy, my daughter Lisa and my son Charles

  Table of Contents:

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Captain Timothy Phillips, after his return from American waters, had wanted nothing more than to be settled into his new estate in Essex. The thought occurred to him it might be the time to give up the sea. As a Royal Naval officer, his duties could bring him into conflict with friends in America, an idea repugnant to him. With time on his hands, several nights a week found him at the village inn, where he discussed ideas with the local gentry and their tenants. Other evenings found the young naval officer at dances all around the county.

  By spring though, this was beginning to pall. The conversations in the inn, mostly about crops and livestock, were beginning to bore him. While he was meeting plenty of interesting young women at the dances, he also had to deal with their mothers who, learning of this wealthy young bachelor, were determined to set the hook before this catch could get away.

  An invitation by Lord and Lady Forsythe to an event at their London residence was a welcome relief to him. Phillips was well acquainted with the Forsythe’s, having had occasion to assist both of them in times of trouble. He was undecided about dress. Opting against wearing uniform, he took his plum-colored pantaloons, a high collared linen shirt and cravat, with a round hat. His greatcoat would protect him against the cold.

  The Forsythe residence was an enormous pile, housing untold numbers of servants and staff. Guests by the dozen were wandering through the place and surrounding grounds. A servant, explaining the family had not yet came down, offered to take him to his room, where he could change from his traveling clothing to dancing attire. As they were climbing the staircase, they met a couple coming down. A most attractive flaxen-haired woman was accompanied by a tall cavalry officer wearing the colors of a county yeomanry regiment. The woman, of course, was Hilda, a woman he had rescued from the clutches of an unwonted suitor on a Danish island in the Baltic.

  At one time, Phillips thought he might have a tendre for her, but on return from a mission, he found she had married. Now, meeting again on a staircase, she squealed in delight and pressed herself against him, whispering they must meet quickly. Phillips, well aware of the glowering cavalryman with his hand on his sabre’s hilt, kept his own hands free of her body.

  Sensing her husband’s tension, she quickly introduced them, explaining the circumstances of their previous meeting. Mollified, the cavalryman, Major Lomax, invited Phillips to his own room so that Phillips could fill him in on the detail of his wife’s escape.

  Everyone went up to the upstairs rooms where Phillips’ servant showed him his room and offered to have all of his kit sent up.

  Lomax poured his wife sherry and offered Phillips his choice of brandy or Scot’s whiskey. When everyone had their drink, Lomax insisted on the full story of his wife’s rescue from enemy-held territory. Phillips attempted to gloss over the entire incident, not wishing to seem tiresome. Lomax was having none of this however. It seemed the good major had never seen combat and was now considering volunteering for duty with Wellington’s forces on the Peninsula.

  As the conversation broadened to include some of the service Phillips had seen off the coasts of Spain and Portugal, Hilda was visibly becoming anxious. Finally, she interrupted her husband in mid-sentence, and said, “Dear, I am sorry for breaking in like this, but we will be called for the cotillion soon, and I must impart some news to Captain Phillips.”

  “Captain Phillips, are you acquainted with a Dorothy Hamilton in your home county of Essex?”

  After a moment’s thought, the lady referred to came to mind. Of course, this was one of the throngs of decorative young belles that populated the dances back home. As he recalled, he met her at the farm of one of his neighbors. The neighbor had cleaned his barn, spread fresh straw on the floor and announced a dance. Some of the country musicians were adept with their instruments and the dance was a lively affair. After a few turns on the floor, she invited him to come back into the barn where she had something to show him.

  Nothing very serious occurred. The hostler happened upon them before matters became interesting and Phillips went back to the dance. Since then however, he had received several notes by post from the woman, explaining how much the encounter meant to her and wondered if a spring wedding would be too soon.

  Panicked, Phillips .sought the advice of an older woman whom he had known all his life. Charlotte Norris was a local business woman who dabbled in most anything that could earn her a profit. She had helped him select the property that was now his home. Riding up to Charlotte’s door, he was greeted by welcoming shrieks from two women. One was Charlotte, the other his sister Abigail, who now lived there most of the time.

  After the greetings were over, Phillips recounted the events that had taken place at the dance and produced the latest letter. Both women chuckled over the letter and Charlotte told him to forget the letter and the woman that wrote it.

  Now though, Hilda Lomax had fresh news to report. It seemed that Miss Hamilton, like many others, had arrived the day before. Apparently, Hamilton had been telling everyone who would listen to her that Phillips had besmirched her honor and her older brother was posting here to demand satisfaction. Apparently, from what Hamilton was telling others, there was to be either a wedding, or blood on the grass.

  The bemused Phillips was led outside by H Hilda immediately started imploring Phillips to leave this place at once and come visit with them until it was seen how the matter would play out. Major Lomax had a contrary view.

  “As a standing officer, Captain Phillips cannot be seen as one who runs away from a fight. He must remain and face his adversaries.”

  Phillips himself had the same viewpoint, and all three went back into the ballroom. The Forsythe’s had dressed and come downstairs, greeting every guest as they entered. A small orchestra was playing the music for a cotillion in progress. Hilda attempted to cajole Phillips into partnering her in the dance. He had been at sea as a youth when other boys were learning these matters and he did not care to embarrass himself or partner, so he remained standing against the wall with some older men, while Hilda and her husband joined another couple and whirled their way into the intricate dance,

  He would have given a lot to be able to leave, but in light of the threatened duel, he felt he must remain to hear any challenge.

  He paid no notice when a pair of yeomanry militia officers entered. One was a short major, almost as wide as he was tall.

  The other was a tall and lithe young lieutenant whose task appeared to be to fetch and carry for his superior as he was ordered. He did pay attention when Miss Hamilton walked up to the
pair and began expounding vigorously. The thought occurred to him that he might well have his hands full if he were to fight this young fellow.

  While he had been in a few cut-and-thrust shipboard duels with the enemy, he had never had the opportunity to take proper instruction in the art. A young man like this probably spent hours a day at practice.

  Phillips was not familiar with Army uniforms, especial of the yeomanry variety, save for the few units his ship had supported in the past. These men appeared to be wearing the colors of a local unit.

  When Dorothy pointed to him, the lieutenant approached his group. Before coming within speaking distance, Major Lomax, observing this, intercepted the officer. After speaking to the young man, Lomax brought the lad over.

  “Captain Phillips, this officer is Lieutenant Ranson of the Hereford Fusiliers. He has been asked to inquire about your intentions to Miss Hamilton.”

  Phillips suspected Ranson was a member of a militia unit that had never seen combat. Some of them were now volunteering for active duty in the Peninsula campaign.

  “Lieutenant Ranson”, Phillips wondered. “Just what might your interest be in this matter?”

  The officer, who had approached thinking Phillips was a civilian, whom he could overawe, had just been informed by Major Lomax that Phillips was in fact a post captain in the Royal Navy, far outranking either himself or his own senior officer. Ranson stood at attention, informing Phillips he had come at the behest of Major Hamilton, quartermaster of the Fusiliers. He wished to know when the wedding might happen.

  Phillips gravely answered. “Lieutenant, I do not know where you got this information about this supposed wedding. I met Miss Hamilton only once, in Essex. We are the most casual of acquaintances. There is to be no wedding, between us at least.”

  Nodding, the lieutenant went back to Major Hamilton. The pair discussed matters for a moment, then Ranson came forward to face Phillips again and rudely pushed him out of this way. An incredulous Captain Phillips wondered to himself, “Am I going to have to face this fellow also?”

  Ranson strode off to join the little major, with Lomax stamping after him.

  After a few minutes of heated conversation between Ranson, Major Hamilton and Lomax, Phillips’ new acquaintance returned.

  Attempting to explain his thoughts, Lomax surmised. “I suspect Hamilton never got the whole story. Perhaps he did not know you are a serving ranking officer. Had you been a civilian of no importance, he may have thought to impress you with his military status. He probably had little desire to fight you himself. He would be more familiar with his quills and ledgers than he would be with the field of honor. I think he originally sent young Ranson over to give you fright.”

  “Finding you were a serving officer, Ranson improvised. Knowing his superior would never be able to face you, he decided to fight you himself. Should you decline, you will be branded a coward.”

  Phillips had not had the time to get his imagination working. Idly, he wondered if there was another reasonable way to settle this matter.

  Lomax forcefully answered, “I do not know how these matters are settled in the Navy Captain, but in the Army we regard matters of honor like this to be very important matters. An officer who will not defend his honor must leave the service.”

  Phillips replied, “It is much the same in the Navy, Major. Although there are orders preventing many of these affairs from starting in the first place. An officer with too many encounters in his history will find himself on the beach for good.”

  The matter was settled when Lord and Lady Forsythe came over. Sarah Forsythe hung back a little and did not join in the conversation. Phillips wondered if she was still haunted by the memories of their stressful initial meeting in the Med.

  Forsythe himself had no difficulties. He was full of his usual good-natured bluster, and wondered how they were enjoying the dance. Phillips had to admit that dancing was not an evolution he had been well trained for, then told Forsythe of the present difficulty.

  An experienced man of the world, Forsythe immediately made his own conclusion. Of course you will have to fight the fellow, Captain. Should you like me to discuss the matter with the other parties?”

  Lomax interjected, “I was going to offer my services as well.”

  Phillips decided, “I would be pleased if you both could act for me. I will agree to almost any reasonable circumstances.”

  Forsythe struck the side of his head. “My memory is no longer what it used to be. I had a message to relay to you and I forgot about it until just now.”

  “I had occasion to meet with Admiral Sir Richard Bickerton, whom you may recall is now the port admiral for Portsmouth. He mentioned to me that he needs a captain capable of taking on an important service far from home, and is at a loss, what with the quality of so many of the people available to him. You, Captain Phillips came immediately to mind, and I mentioned your name. He desires you to come around when you get a chance. He is probably still at Admiralty, but I think he plans on posting down to Portsmouth tonight. You may be able to catch him if you hurry.”

  Major Lomax had overheard the conversation and said, “You are welcome to use my carriage to get to Admiralty, if you wish. Although I do hope you remember to send it back to me.”

  Phillips nodded, “I thank you gentlemen. When making the arrangements for the meeting, please bear in mind I may be delayed with Admiralty business but will give Lord Forsythe any notice I possible can of my schedule.”

  Lomax interjected, “It may take us a few days to arrange a meeting. If those orders sending you to foreign shores are acted upon immediately, this may give us the opportunity to delay this meeting for years, perhaps.”

  Indignantly, Phillips replied he would regard this meeting to be of the first importance, even superseding the wishes of the Navy.

  Quickly bidding everyone a good afternoon, Phillips went out to find the Lomax carriage. Hilda came with him and gave the driver his instructions. She gave Phillips a rather more enthusiastic parting than her husband had. In the back of his mind, Phillips thought, perhaps Hilda had learned a thing or two since her marriage. When they breathlessly parted, Phillips hurriedly stepped into the carriage and they were off. After finding himself obligated to fight one duel, he had no wish to find himself challenged to another.

  It was late in the afternoon when he arrived at the Admiralty, and he left his name and said that Admiral Bickerton expected to see him.

  He had to wait nearly an hour, but was eventually called to an office where three officials were seated about a table. Coffee and wine were in front of each. The clerk admitting him introduced him to Admiral Bickerton, Viscount Melville who was the First Lord, and Rear Admiral Dommett, also on the Board of Admiralty.

  Bickerton told the others, “Forsythe advised me today that young Phillips may just be the man we want for the purpose we were discussing. Shall we tell him what we have been mulling over?”

  Admiral Dommett looked dubious, but Melville spoke. “I have been hearing much about this officer. For such a young man, he has done much for his country. I want to hear what he has to say about our plans. Why don’t you start off, Bickerton?”

  Admiral Bickerton looked at Phillips and began. "As you know, Captain Phillips, our friend Boney has his shipyards all over Europe busy with the construction of warships. His purpose of course, is to tie up our Channel Fleet long enough for him to get an army across the channel. I wish him luck there.”

  “While our fleet, as you know, is greatly superior to his, with our men immeasurably so, the fact remains that many of our warships are old and need repairs or replacement.”

  “To accomplish this repair and replacement program, besides the millions in specie required, vast quantities of naval stores and specialized types of timber are required, much of which must be imported from northern Europe. With the tangled politics of the region, this has caused a large bottle-neck in the importation of the needed supplies.”

  “Of course, there is
another source of this material. Namely, the forests of North America, with whom we are now at war.”

  “It has come to our attention, that certain traders of the New England area of the United States have no compunction about delivering these needed stores to us. Therefore, we need the services of an enterprising officer to do what he can to obtain such material. We anticipate this officer will sail to Halifax and make contact there with certain dis-affected Americans who may be able to communicate our needs to their countrymen to the south.”

  “It would be the task of our officer to set up a network where messages can be relayed to the proper people. Additionally, the forests of Canada can presumably supply us with certain of our needs. Our officer will be provided with funds to make such purchases as he may. It would be desirable for this officer to begin sending naval stores and timber across the Atlantic, almost as soon as he arrives. Now, what do you think, Captain?”

  Phillips had to take a moment to absorb all that he had heard. He delayed his decision by asking, “What about a ship, sir? If the Yankees take exception to my activities, I may have to fight my way clear.”

  Melville answered. “The Yankees do have a few powerful frigates, which have caused us some harm. However, these are generally blockaded in port, so you should not need to have a third rate. I think Admiral Bickerton can find you a respectable frigate if he looks hard enough.”

  Bickerton nodded. “HMS Amazon will be ready for service as soon as we get a crew for her.” Turning to Phillips, he added, “She has 28 eighteen pounders on her upper deck, as well as nine-pounders on her foc’s’le and quarterdeck. She also has a dozen thirty-two pounders on her quarterdeck and another pair on her foc’s’le.”

  Melville looked at Phillips questioningly, “Well, what about it, Captain?”

  Having had a few minutes to digest all of the information, he decided he might be better off at sea, than at home dealing with ambitious women.

 

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