Without a single question, she went to the baby’s bag and from the bottom produced the pair, along with a bag of balls, and a flask of powder. Checking the priming, he went to the door. To his wife he said, “A warship has fought the Frenchman that captured us and has dismasted her. I am going to try to retake this ship.”
Opening the captain’s door, the first thing he saw was a huge pistol muzzle in his face. Captain Haynes put down the pistol as soon as he saw his guest. The pair compared notes. Haynes knew of the results of the battle of the schooner and brig, and had the same idea of re-taking the ship that Phillips did.
The French prize master had most of his limited crew on deck getting sail on her. Like most merchant ship captains, Haynes had a motley collection of weapons hidden in his cabin, in case of an uprising by his men, or maybe an attempt by pirates. Going over to his berth, he pulled up his mattress and unearthed two old Sea Service pistols. Then, he found several rather rusty cutlasses hidden behind some foul weather gear. Checking the weapons were loaded, they went to the compartment where the crew men were secured. This had been the cabin where some of the furnishings Sarah had purchased had been secured. To gain room for the prisoners, the French had apparently thrown much of the merchandise over the side.
One of the crew knew a few words of French, and had heard enough through the deck planking overhead to suspect there was a problem. Haynes armed the steadiest of his people with his extra pistols and the cutlasses. The party crept up the ladder to the deck. The prize master was up forward, watching the brig through his glass. She was apparently taking aboard members of the schooner’s crew, which was sinking. The prize master, evidently hoping to slink away, had lowered the Tricolor and was now sailing under the Stars and Stripes. The prize crew was paying not the least attention to what was happening on their prize, watching instead the enemy brig. Without a glass, Phillips could not see the flag, but suspected it was one of the new British gun brigs, armed with numerous big carronades for broadside guns.
The helm was close by. The helmsman had a long musket lying on the deck beside him as he stood at the wheel. Ignoring the other’s firepower, one of the American crewmen crept up to the helmsman, held his knife to the man’s throat, while another man scurried up and secured the musket. The activity alerted the prize crew, and they became alarmed. A couple of them had pistols in their belts, and most had knives. The seaman who had seized the musket took aim at the group, and a man beside the prize master went down.
The parties were far enough apart that pistols were mostly useless. Few men could hit their man more than ten feet away with a smoothbore pistol. The man with the now empty musket could not find its ammunition pouch, and was unable to reload. Phillips handed the man his pistols, and took the long gun. Using the pistol’s flask to recharge the pan, and drop powder down the bore, he pulled out a handkerchief and tore it in half. Wadding half up in a ball, he stuffed that down the bore. Then he dropped half a dozen pistol balls down the barrel, followed by the remaining ball of handkerchief. The whole assembly was rammed down the bore, and he was nearly ready.
Closing the frizzen he brought the weapon his shoulder. He pointed the weapon at the prize master, and pulled the trigger. There was a huge gout of smoke and flame, and two members of the prize crew went down, but not the prize master he aimed for. With a shout, he ran forward, followed by his other men still on their feet. He heard pistols popping from his people, but no enemy went down. The prize master, waving his sword and a pistol was almost upon them, when they heard the loud report of a rifle at close hand. Sarah was standing in the hatch, with John’s rifle, a cloud of smoke in front of her. The prize master was doubled up on the deck, and the prize crewmen were throwing down their weapons.
After these people had been secured, Phillips asked Haynes to hoist the British ensign. As they made their way toward the brig, it was evident she was one of the new British gun brigs. When Phillips went aboard, he found Lieutenant Mullins was her captain.
Commiserating with Mullins over the sinking of his capture, and the loss of the prize money, a meal was laid on with Captain Mullins in the Sarah Forsythe’s cabin to celebrate their deliverance, the cabin of the gun brig being a bit small. Mullins brought over his own cook to prepare the meal.
After the festivities, Haynes put the ‘Sarah Forsythe’ to the wind, and they made their way to Halifax to join the big convoy to Britain. The non-eventful voyage ended at the Pool of London, where together Phillips and Haynes managed to sell their goods, and to pick up a cargo of manufactured goods destined for Barbados. John and Sarah elected to leave the ship at this point, leaving Captain Haynes to make the voyage.
Phillips made nearly enough from the tobacco and rum to pay for the initial cost of the brig. Another successful voyage would see his venture in the black. Now though, Phillips thought it might be time to check in at Admiralty to find out what plans, if any, they had for him.
After securing rooms in London for Sarah and the baby, John left his wife to engage servants, while he went to investigate his future in the Royal Navy. In the Admiralty waiting room, matters did not look promising, at first. It was crowded with officers of all ranks, many of whom appeared not to have had employment since the American War. Nevertheless, he found a seat, and managed to secure a newspaper some previous occupant had left behind. While putting the crumpled pages in some kind of order, he was startled to see a familiar person standing in front of him. It was Mister Jordan, the official who had helped him when he had brought Sarah back from the turmoil of Toulon.
Standing to greet the man, Jordan asked, “Captain Phillips, where the devil have you been keeping yourself? We were told you were on death’s door, and permanently disabled.”
“Sir, in my last action, I received a gunshot wound in my arm. It was rather bothersome for a few weeks, but a civilian surgeon soon put it right. I had been halfway promised command of the third rate ship Achille, we brought home, but the port captain decided I was disabled, and gave it to another officer. When it appeared as though it might be a long wait for another command, I decided to take my new wife Sarah, on a sea voyage. We went to Boston, where our son w
as born, and I purchased a brig there. I have engaged a merchant captain to sail her, and she will soon sail to Barbados with a cargo of British manufactured goods.”
Jordan mused, “Captain, I’ll have to tell you Admiral Parker was extremely upset when he learned conflicting reports of your disability. If you are interested in resuming your naval career, I would recommend your posting to Portsmouth to pay a call on the Admiral.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BACK TO WORK
Outside, Phillips becoming aware of a gnawing sensation in his stomach, paused to buy food from a pie man, then a pint of ale. As he was consuming his food he became aware of a familiar figure across the street. Tossing the remnants of his pie to a scavenging dog, he poured his drink down his throat and hopped over the filth in the street to the man. It was Lieutenant Crawford, the volunteer who had brought in the captured frigate on his last command. After the requisite greetings, Phillips invited Crawford into a nearby inn for some food and drink. Crawford was reluctant and Phillips thought he knew why.
The officer’s uniform coat was worn and tattered, and the man’s sword was missing. Suspecting that his purse was as empty as his stomach looked, Phillips assured Crawford that he was buying, and was anxious to catch up on the local gossip from a friend, having been out of the country for the better part of a year.
Learning that Crawford, although put back on full pay for a bit after bringing in the captured frigate, was soon back again on half pay, and becoming a little anxious. Phillips noted that he too had been on half pay since leaving Courageous, but thought there was a possibility of employment soon. He related the news that Admiral Parker wished to see him in Portsmouth, and he hoped a ship might materialize.
“Mister Crawford, it seems every time I get a ship, I always seem to be missing one or more lieutenant
s. If you want to take a chance on me, if I am offered a ship with a vacancy, I’d be pleased to take you with me.”
Crawford was nonplussed. “Sir, I am most grateful for your offer, but I need to tell you that most of my kit has gone into pawn. I would not be able to present a professional appearance aboard ship.”
“Well, stuff and nonsense, Mister Crawford. There are plenty of outfitters between here and Portsmouth harbor. This trip may amount to nothing, but since the King is paying the fare, I wish you would accompany me.”
The trip went as usual, with much battering of the passengers. Phillips almost had to force Crawford to eat at the posting stops. It was obvious he hated to ask for help. Phillips took to ordering food himself, and just handing half to Crawford. They finally arrived. He had sent a note by post earlier to the admiral, announcing his arrival, and when the coach pulled into Portsmouth, it was nearly the time he had specified, so there was no time to get himself in order. The two walked to the admiral’s residence and announced themselves. Since Crawford had no business with the admiral, the porter put him in a little ante room, but Phillips was ushered in to a larger room, outfitted with a dozen chairs. Occupying one of those was a young, well-polished commander. Next to him was an equally well-turned-out lieutenant, a lad who looked not a day over the age of sixteen years. Phillips felt positively shabby in his well-travelled uniform coat, ancient sword, and an epaulette threatening to turn green.
Neither of the men offered a greeting, for which John was just as glad. While he was financially secure himself, such was not the case of the man he had brought with him, and the blue devils were starting to bother him, wondering if he had sold Crawford a bill of goods. Just as he had convinced himself he had led the officer down a fool’s path, the porter came and collected the two other officers. The muffled voices emanating from behind the closed door soon indicated someone was getting a strip torn off.
A few minutes after quiet returned, the porter returned to usher Phillips in to Parker’s inner office. He was encouraged to see no sign of the emotion on the admiral’s face that he had heard through the closed door. Admiral Parker greeted him most courteously, and sent the porter to the sideboard for wine and glasses. After a little quiet conversation, he inquired about Phillips recent activities. The admiral congratulated him on his marriage and new son. Finally Parker inquired, “With a wife and new child, I wonder if you are anxious to return to your naval career?”
“Sir, after I was assured I was ‘permanently disabled’, after returning from my last cruise, I felt I needed to get on with my life. My wife and I sailed to America, where I bought a trading brig, and returned to Britain. A visit to the Admiralty gave me the news that my retirement was perhaps not as definite as I had thought. If the Royal Navy still wishes my services, then I would be happy to return and do my duty as best as I can.”
“You know, Captain Phillips, I have developed a theory over the years. I have found, with all the officers under my command, that a few are the ones who are the most productive. These few are the most intelligent, capable and produce the best results. Most of the others are capable enough and earn their pay. While a few others rarely do anything to benefit the Crown.”
“Before you came in this room, I was reminded of that theory. I had occasion to talk to a pair of young officers, newly returned after a cruise off the French coast. They accomplished nothing on their cruise except consuming their stores and terrorizing the crew. An examination of the ship’s punishment book showed hardly a day went by without at least one flogging. The captain and his lieutenant just reported to me, and I felt it necessary to relieve both of them. Both are sprigs of the nobility who obtained their positions and rank through interest rather than ability.”
“I have no hopes for the commander, but his lieutenant is young enough to learn from his experience. I will leave him on half-pay for a space, then, if I have occasion, I may appoint him to a ship with a captain who might be able to teach the boy something.”
“You, Captain Phillips, are the kind of captain I am talking about. You had a rough period in your career, but you surmounted the obstacles and have more than fulfilled my expectations in the short time I have known you. Now, my problem is what the devil do I do with you? As it happens, I have two ships needing a captain, neither what you might call a plum. One is a 64 gun third rate, just coming out of ordinary. She is full of rot, and I doubt if we can get much more than a year or so of use out of her. If it were up to me, I would make a hulk out of her, but Admiralty has differing plans. It will probably take a year to get her ready to sail, but where to get a crew?”
“The other is a recently captured French corvette. She is newly built, and suffered little damage at her capture. She was armed with twenty guns when we got her, but two were removed and that made her into an eighteen gunned ship sloop. I just removed the commander that was her captain. The thought occurs to me that we could re-arm her with two more guns and rate her as a post ship, commanded by a captain. Normally of course, I would appoint a newly promoted captain aboard her to make of her what he could. I wonder if you would consider it an insult to be offered that ship to command. Understand this would be in the neighborhood of a temporary command until something more suited to a man of your abilities came up. You should bear in mind her crew was in a near state of mutiny, when she returned to port.”
“Sir, I would be pleased and proud to command whichever ship you decide.”
“Well, let us say the corvette then. I am not sure the bottom of the 64 will not drop off as soon as she gets into the channel. I would not wish to be responsible for your murder. I dismissed that corvette’s lieutenant too. Would you know of a lieutenant free to accept a first officer’s position?”
“As it happens Admiral Parker, I recently met an old friend, a lieutenant of ten year’s seniority. He posted down with me and is now awaiting me in your anteroom. I am sure he would be glad to serve.”
“Very well Captain. I feel a bit awkward now, after haranguing you about the evils of ‘interest’, but the fact remains my sister’s boy has just passed his boards and needs a place. I am prepared to allow your post ship an extra lieutenant, and would ask you to take the boy on as a second lieutenant.”
Phillips was not excited about this prospect. He knew when he offered Crawford a position aboard his next ship that he was getting an officer with little recent experience, but felt he could carry the man for a bit until he got his bearings. Nursing a second new officer was a little more than he had bargained for. However, he felt he owed Admiral Parker for his good offices, and assured him he would take care of the boy.
“Thank you, Captain. I realize this is an imposition, but there are few enough captains that are better at training new officers than yourself.”
Parker gave a bell on his desk a few shakes, and a miniature little man appeared in the door. “Wilkins, fill out a commission for Captain Phillips here to take command of the Alacrity. While you are at it, there is a lieutenant in the anteroom. Appoint him as first lieutenant in the Alacrity also. Now then Captain, I know you will want to get down to the harbor to investigate your new ship. In the meantime, I have work to do.”
Out in the anteroom, Crawford was still sitting in the chair the porter had placed him in. As he was going over to collect him, the little clerk came out and handed Phillips his commission. Then he went over to Crawford and asked his name. That accomplished, he went to a desk in the corner, extracted a quill and inkwell, and scribbled the pertinent data on another document. Handing the parchment to the astonished officer, he disappeared into the bowels of the building.
Walking outside, Crawford looked questioningly at Phillips. “You might want to read that paper, Mister Crawford. You never know what might arise.”
“We have a ship,sir?” Crawford asked?
“We do, Mister Crawford, and before we visit her, I think we had better get you outfitted appropriately.” Escorting him to the naval outfitter, they purchased a respectable coat
, a new hat, and a utilitarian sword. Crawford was red with embarrassment, and promised to repay the sum as soon as possible.
“First things first, Mister Crawford. I am told Alacrity came in with her people in a near state of mutiny. I would like you to locate the ship and find out what you can. If you think it safe, I would like for you to go aboard and inform the standing officers that I will read myself in later this afternoon. In the meantime, I plan to pick up my sea chest and buy some supplies.”
After getting his gear together and purchasing some cabin supplies, he went to the harbor and found the Alacrity. She was an amazingly trim looking ship, gold leaf gleaming. After the warning from Admiral Parker, he was not surprised to see guard boats rowing around the ship. When one approached the shore, he waved at it. The midshipman at the tiller turned the boat and it closed the shore.
Phillips addressed the mid. “Young man, I am Captain Phillips. Admiral Parker has just given me the command of the Alacrity. Would you give me a ride out to the ship?”
Lieutenant Crawford was waiting at the entry port with the Marines and the side boys. The welcoming ceremony went exactly like many others he had experienced. Asking Mister Crawford to call the hands, he pulled his commission from his coat and read it aloud, making him by law the ship’s captain, with all the rights and privileges implied. After reading the commission, he gave a little talk to the men. He told them they were under new management, and had nothing to fear from him unless that fear was well earned. After dismissing the people, he asked the standing officers to remain. Crawford offered the wardroom as a convenient place to talk to them. After introducing himself, he asked the various warrant officers for their input on the problems facing them.
For the Honor of the Flag: A John Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 2) Page 9