His pay was brought up to date and he found some of the old Athena prizes had made their way through prize court and the funds released. The crew was allowed ‘head money’ for the captured crew of the privateer, but of course, received nothing for the sunken brig. With his father dead and his mother long missing, he used some of his new funds to take rooms near the admiralty. A month later, he received news that the ship was being paid off and was going into ordinary. The war was over.
CHAPTER THREE
Interlude
With the release of his prize money, along with his lieutenant’s half pay, Phillips was financially secure for a brief period, but he knew he soon would need to economize and gain an income of some type. He haunted the Admiralty, looking for some position on a ship, without any encouragement. In fact, he was told rather firmly, he should cease his visits, just come around once every half year to collect his half pay. He was assured if a vacant lieutenancy became available; he would be notified by post. As the most junior lieutenant in the now peacetime Navy, he knew well an active posting was not at all likely.
He had been in the habit of eating in a small inn near the river that catered to people rather low on the economic scale, where he could get a simple meal and a mug of ale for a few pence. One day, coming there in uniform after a visit to Admiralty, a drunk-jostled him and spilled a quantity of some greasy food on his blue coat.
At first the drunk wanted to fight him, until a glimpse of Phillips with his hand on his sword hilt with the blade half drawn, cooled him down. The landlady rushed to the officer, telling him she would clean the coat and to please not add blood to the food stains. The drunk, facing the threat of a sword in the hand of a man who obviously knew how to use it, quickly decided to leave the premises.
The landlady, Missus Harkins, put him in in an empty room with a large ale and some steak and kidney pie in front of him. After Phillips had calmed down a bit and emptied the quart, he realized the landlady was not bad looking. While she might be a little heavy for some tastes, he liked a woman with meat on her bones and she had the appearance that she might not be too hard to know. He knew she was a bit older than he. Obviously she would never see her twenties again, but still, she was easy to look at.
When she came back, the grease stains had been removed with a chalk ball and the whole coat sponged. It looked as good as new. She was impressed at having a King’s officer at her establishment and wanted to know all about his service. He embellished a few sea stories to tell her, which impressed her even more. After he finished his drink, she offered to get him another.
She protested. “I’m no Ma’am, my name is Mary and I like to drink gin.” she said.
After switching to gin, John gave the short story of his life, as did she. It happened that her husband Ben owned the ‘King’s Arms’ in partnership with the husband’s brother, Amos.
Ben was much older than Mary and could no longer perform his husbandly duties, a subject Phillips did not want to know that much about. The husband’s wits were also said to have been deteriorating also and her life was lonely.
After playing a little ‘slap and tickle’ with Phillips, she asked, “Where are you staying now, John?”
He told her about the room he was renting from the widow close by the Admiralty. She said, “John, I could board you here for half of what you’re paying there.”
Knowing a bargain when he saw it the deal was made. They spent a few pleasant hours before she started putting herself back together. “I have to go to the kitchen and start the evening meal. If you like, you can get your things and move in here now.”
A few days later, with no prospects for any work appearing on the horizon, John Phillips was in the tap room with a glass talking with some regulars. An elderly gent everyone called Bob, was talking about his business. It seemed he had a horse and cart and he bought fish from the boats as they came up the Thames early in the morning, then delivered that fish around the better areas of town; generally to cooks of the higher quality homes who needed a good product for the evening meal.
With his gimpy leg, he could no longer get around well, so he was going to leave his business and go live with relatives. He needed to sell his cart and horse. A little discussion divulged the information that he had a grandson who helped him with the route and this grandson could be hired very reasonably.
Phillips travelled the route with the man and his grandson and was sure he could make a go of the business. He thought the route could be profitably expanded and the prices raised a bit. The boy was knowledgeable about the route and a hard worker. The cart, though shabby and in need of paint seemed sound. The horse was different. The old gelding was thin and all his bones showed. Phillips felt though that more and better feed would make an improvement there. Shaking hands they sealed the deal, John handing over a significant fraction of the funds he owned.
Early next morning, he paid the inn’s hostler to give the horse a good feed. From him, he found the inn had a good barn, with stabling for those gentlemen owning horses. The hostler agreed to handle the animal’s feed and shelter for a modest sum. He asked Phillips not to give the animal any more feed. He said with the poor feed the horse had received previously, there was the danger of founder if fed too much rich feed too soon. The hostler assured Phillips he could improve the horse’s condition if given a little time.
From his talks with Bob, he knew the proper price to pay for the fresh fish and he did so. One of the fishermen, knowing an amateur when he saw one, tried to talk him into paying near retail price. Phillips declined.
Traveling the route specified by Bob, they normally sold their entire product by noon. Soon he began buying more fish and was able to slowly lengthen his route. For a while, he thought about buying another cart and horse and sending his assistant out by himself on a new route.
Soon however, problems developed. He started having trouble with street thugs. Some men wanted to collect ‘protection’ money from him. He began to carry his sword, then, a big horse pistol that Mary loaned him. A few severely injured thugs soon got the idea that robbery was not a safe line of work to be in.
Then, it began to be difficult to keep the product fresh in the heat of the day as summer wore on. He soon found that many of his upper class customers did not stay in the city during the hotter months of the summer, instead removing to their rural homes. Finally, he found it necessary to suspend his fish peddling business during much of the summer, reviving the route in the cooler autumn weather.
For years, he followed this strategy. Money did become scarce sometimes, but he had his naval half pay which served as an emergency cushion. Mary kept his uniform in pristine condition and he used it only for calling at Admiralty. By now, Mary’s husband had contracted Wasting Disease and was no longer seen around the inn. She informed John his mind as well as his body had gone and the local apothecary had no hope for him.
By now, they were a couple and no one commented on their co-habitation. Nearly ten years after starting his business, he came upon bad times. He had to replace the horse and the problems with the business mounted. Forced to borrow money to survive, he found himself unable to pay it back. There were threats to have him sent to prison for debt.
Mary rescued him from that fate, but shortly after, the brother-in-law came back on the scene. He had been away on business for some time, but one evening, she came to their shared room in a panic. A letter from the brother had come by post today. The brother had received word that she was up to no good with tenants of the inn and he was coming to investigate. Any problems discovered would be taken care of immediately.
The solution, as Mary saw it, was for John to incite a duel with the fellow and kill him. Phillips tried to disabuse her of the notion. First of all, while he was still considered an officer, supposedly skilled in arms, the brother in law was not. The disgust of the city would be directed at the officer who incited a duel with an unskilled, elderly civilian, Should he kill the man, he told her he would soon have a
n appointment at Newgate Prison to have his neck stretched.
In a panic she left and went to her own room. Phillips saw her no more for the next week. She no longer presided over the taproom and Phillips thought it better to leave the woman alone.
Late one afternoon, on a cold January day in 1793, he came home, unable to sell all his fish. Phillips had been hearing rumors for weeks about dire events taking place in France, but paid no attention. It was most unlikely that he, an itinerant fish peddler would be affected. He ended up giving the unsold fish away to avoid wasting it.
Wearily making his way back to the ‘King’s Arms’, he saw a woman standing at the corner dressed in multiple layers of clothing. Phillips was walking by the horse’s head, to spare the tired animal the burden of his weight, when she stepped out in front of him. Startled, he stopped, as she called, “John, please wait.”
It was of course Mary, in her idea of disguise. “John, please do not come back to the inn. I think I have convinced my brother-in-law the reports he had about us, were just idle gossip. He acts like he likes me and I think he may become more interested when Ben dies. I can’t let him find out about us.
“Well, what about my belongings back in the inn? I can’t afford to lose my uniform and sword.”
“I’ll take the horse and cart with me. Early tomorrow, I’ll load your belongings into the cart. When your helper comes, I’ll tell him you are already at the river and he can take the horse and cart and drive it to you. I will really miss you, but you need to understand we can never meet again. By the way, this letter came in the post today.”
Stunned, he shoved the letter into his trousers without looking at it. Without a word, he handed her the reins of the horse and she left, without looking back.
With no destination in mind, he wandered after her, staying well back in the evening shadows. At the inn, he watched as she unhitched the horse and led it into the stable.
He waited outside until after dark, then crept inside the barn. The hostler slept there he knew, but Phillips also knew he consumed a half pint of gin every night to help him sleep. He knew there was little danger of the man waking and catching him. Burrowing into a pile of hay, he tried to sleep.
With little sleep that night, John rose early the next morning before the hostler. As he passed the horse, it nickered, reminding him it was time to go to work. Phillips kept going out the door. He walked slowly down the path leading to the river. Once there, he stood watching a boat slowly drift downstream. It reminded him of his naval service and he wished he were at sea again. Finally, he heard the sound of the squeaky right wheel on his cart, one that he had been promising himself he would grease.
His bewildered helper was sitting on the box driving and a large bundle was in the bottom of the cart. The helper was curious about the different routine today. Phillips had to explain he was no longer living at the inn and would have to find a new place to live. With no better idea of how to spend the day, he thought about taking the time off.
While thinking over his options, he idle thrust his hand in his pocket and found the letter he had stuffed in there the evening before. Pulling it out revealed a black seal which he could not recall ever seeing before.
It proved to be an official missive from the Admiralty. It seemed he was being offered a position as Lieutenant on active service and was required to communicate acceptance or to state the reasons why he must decline. He frantically tore open the bundle in the cart and among clean work clothing, he found his old naval uniform folded beside the bicorn hat and sword. Among the other items in the bundle was a packet of cold beef sandwiches and a leather purse. The purse held twenty golden guineas.
Thinking about his options a minute, he threw his bundle back in the cart and with Billy riding in back, drove to a barber’s he remembered. There, they waited for the shop to open. When the proprietor opened the door, he asked about a bath and shave.
The man assured he could make him look and smell like an earl and took him in hand. After his bath and shave, he dressed in his uniform and asked the barber to dispose of the old, smelly clothing. The cart then carried the two to the Admiralty building. Without thinking, he landed the reins to the boy and said, “Billy, I am going to go away for a spell and can’t take the horse and cart. They’re all yours, if you want.”
Billy wondered, “What should I do with them, Mister Phillips?”
Phillips fished into his pocket and handed Billy most of the money he had made selling fish the day before. “Buy some fish from a boat. Just buy the fish you are sure you can sell. See if you can get somebody to help you.”
Inside, he gave his name and showed the porter his letter. He was led into a large waiting room filled to capacity with other officers and told to wait until he was called. Hours later, a shriveled old gentleman came to the door and called six names, ‘Phillips’ was one of that number.”
The men were led into a smaller room, with chairs placed along the wall before a sturdy table. Told to wait, Phillips covertly eyed his fellows. All lieutenants apparently between the ages of twenty and forty. He particularly noticed one individual.
A supercilious individual in his early twenties, one who was massively built. Most of the bulk being fat, not muscle. His very face quivered when he paced about the room. When they exchanged names, that one admitted, with his nose firmly in the air, that he was James George Mortimer, Lieutenant the Earl of Brumley. The good earl then took no more part in general conversation.
Finally, the fellow who had led them into the room returned, led by a Vice Admiral. This was a vigorous looking man, in his mid-fifties and appeared to have a no nonsense look about him. Parking his rump on the table, he started out, “Gentlemen, I presume you have all heard about the events taking place across the channel in France. What you may not know yet is the fools there have decided upon war against Britain.”
“Since we hear they are chopping heads off nobility with a vengeance, I doubt if their Navy is in much of a state to oppose us, since so many of their officers are of that estate. I expect bosun’s mates may be commanding some of their first rate ships. However, the Admiralty feels it wise to get some eyes looking over their shoulders. We are taking vessels, both large and small, out of ordinary and into commission, as fast as they can be manned. The clerks are drafting your orders right now. I will look them over, sign them and you will be on your way to your duty.
The men remained silent until a clerk came back with an armful of sealed documents. Phillips was ordered to Triumphant ’74 as second lieutenant for a three year commission. Employment! No longer would he need to go out on freezing days, selling fish from door to door.
As the officers milled about sharing their elation, Phillips noticed the Earl’s face seemed pale and sweaty in the cold air of the meeting room. Phillips felt sorry for the man, obviously ill, he probably felt he must remain calm and assured. The others ignoring the man, Phillips said to him, “My ship is in Portsmouth. May I ask where you will be going?”
Initially, the man glared at him, seemingly at his effrontery, but then his face softened and he said, “I’ll be going to Portsmouth too. I’ll be commander in ship-sloop Exeter of 18 guns.”
The man was now a commander, or would be as soon as he read himself in. Phillips felt he should show a little respect to the man. “Good show, Commander. I will post down. Would you like to accompany me?”
The Commander Brumley glared at him again and said, “No, I will travel down in my own carriage.”
Another Lieutenant had heard some of the conversation and said ruefully, “Well, what would you expect of an earl with all those names?”
Phillips answered, “Like it or not, he’s a commander now and outranks us. He’ll probably make post before the end of the year. One of us could well find himself on a ship he commands.”
Having a week before needing to report, Phillips got a room in a nearby hotel, then went looking for seagoing clothing. He bought a good boat cloak and a new, better quality un
iform coat, a new hat and two pairs of shoes, with a set of silver buckles. Equipping himself also with new breeches and stockings, he felt he was ready for the wardroom of a third-rate. Everything went into a new sea chest. Tempted to purchase a new sword, he demurred, thinking his present weapon was of good quality and would serve him well in combat. He felt he did not need to spend good money to show away in social events.
Two days after ordering his gear, he set out for Portsmouth on the mail coach. For much of the trip, the coach was full and he sat pressed against the body of a huge woman who had apparently not felt it necessary to damage her health by bathing.
At Portsmouth, he found a man with a barrow to trundle his gear to the water where he bargained for a boat to take him out to his ship. The two oarsmen threw his chest into the boat and with a muttered ‘give way’ by stroke oar, they were off. There was a moderate chop in the port and Phillips prayed he would not succumb. Few things were more amusing to the crew of a ship than that of a new officer ‘feeding the fish’ while reporting aboard.
However, all was well; on the challenge of the midshipman of the watch, one of the men shouted ‘Aye, aye’ and held up two fingers. Pulling his sword behind him, so it would not foul his legs, Phillips grabbed the man ropes as the boat surged up on a swell.
He pulled himself up by his arms, while searching for a batten with his foot. Finding himself, he climbed the side of the ship, the task becoming easier as the tumblehome leaned inward. When he reached the entry port, he saw a lieutenant waiting for him, raised his hat in salute and requested, “Permission to come aboard?”
On the King's Sea Service: A John Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 1) Page 3