by Bob Brown
Not One Shred
Of Decency
A historical novel based on actual events.
Bob Brown
RIVER CITY BOOKS
Kingston, Tennessee
Copyright © 1999 by Bob Brown
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. For information address River City Books, 322 Davis Drive, Kingston, TN 37763
Library of Congress Control Number: 99-091235
ISBN
For Betty
She would have liked it.
ILLUSTRATIONS
Cover, Anne Powers, ROANE STATE COMMUNITY COLLEGE
U. S. Brig-of-War Somers, photograph of lithograph by Currier and Spruce.
Courtesy, UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY.
Philip Spencer, photograph of lithograph.
Courtesy, CHI PSI FRATERNITY
John Spencer, photograph of lithograph.
Courtesy, LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
Alexander Slidell Mackenzie, photograph of lithograph.
Courtesy, AMERICAN ANTIQUARIAN SOCIETY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Month after month I tested the patience and endurance of faithful members of the Oak Ridger Writing Group by reading one chapter of this novel at every meeting. Without their advice and constructive criticism this novel would have floundered. Equally invaluable was the editorial review of the Novel Group of the Knoxville Writers Guild. Their suggestions and corrections necessitated many hours of rewriting, but the finished product was much improved in the process. Lastly, but very important, my family and friends proofread, made suggestions, and supported my efforts with words of encouragement.
CHAPTER 1
Elizabeth Spencer bit her lip to hold back tears. She paced the parlor floor, but never strayed far from the window that allowed her to watch for her husband, John, to come home. She could depend on John to resolve family issues in a prompt and wise manner.
Secretary of War John Spencer controlled every facet of his life. He also controlled the life of his family and the lives of everyone with whom he had contact. One glaring exception was his son, Philip. Always rebellious, but now as an 18 year old midshipman in the Navy, Philip committed misdeeds more grievous than ever. John and Elizabeth could not know then that in exactly three months their wayward son would burden them with unbearable heartache that would forever alter their lives.
Elizabeth pulled and twisted a limp and tortured handkerchief. “Why won’t he come on?” she murmured. A hot humid Washington breeze blew in the window, forcing the curtains inward and then they collapsed limply as though the effort was too great. She knew John would appear exactly on time, but just once she wished he would be early.
President John Tyler chose attorney John Canfield Spencer to be his Secretary of War because of his commendable record as a New York Assembly member where he was honored for revising the state statutes. He was well known for his strong leadership abilities and speaking skills. John was cast in the same mold as his father, Ambrose Spencer, who had been mayor of New York and presently served as chief justice of the Supreme Court of New York State.
Exactly at six, John came into view at the far street corner. Elizabeth would have him walk faster, but he maintained his usual erect brisk pace. He entered the front door and glanced at Elizabeth standing in the double doors to the parlor. He observed her anguished expression, but she motioned for him to follow her before he could say anything. He hung his hat and coat on the hall coat tree and she shut the doors behind them as they entered the large formal room. Stagnant vapors from varnished antique furniture filled the room and did not leave much air fit for breathing.
Elizabeth explained, “A Miss Penelope Melford has been waiting for a half hour in your study. She wouldn’t tell me what she wants.”
“You’re upset, Liz. Is there more?”
“Young girls never come to see you. And she’s dressed, well, gaudily, and after all we’ve been through with Philip. It has something to do with him, I know.”
“Wait here, I’ll see what she wants.”
John quickly opened and closed the study door and walked straight to his large desk, saying, “Miss Melford, this is an unannounced visit. Please state your business.”
The startled girl sheepishly shut a book and returned it to its space on a bookshelf. She wore a bright green dress with wide, slightly tattered lace around the collar and sleeves. High-button shoes were too worn to be helped with polish. Pretty blond hair appeared to be stacked precariously on the top of her head except for a few bouncy streamers that had managed to escape. Facial features were well formed and one might suspect natural beauty would surface if the exorbitant amounts of rouge were peeled away.
John Spencer, dressed in flawless fashion, stood tall and clean shaven. Dark hair, heavy eyebrows, and his stern expression gave early warning that he was proud of his ability to go directly to the heart of any discussion.
Penelope fidgeted. “Mr. Spencer, perhaps I should’ve made an appointment, but this is a bit of a personal matter . . .”
“Yes, go on.”
“Apparently sir, Philip hasn’t told you of our close relationship.”
“No, Miss Melford, he hasn’t. And I’m not at all anxious to know about his relationships.”
“Well, you’ll want to know about us I’m sure. You see well sir, you see, as it turns out, sir, may I sit down?”
“You won’t be here that long, Miss.”
Penelope’s eyes widened and she stiffened her posture. After a moment she relaxed, clasped her hands in prayer fashion, and bowed her head a bit. Her voice was low, “Well, Philip we, uh, you see you’re going to be a grandfather . . .”
John’s jaw tightened. “I am not going to be a grandfather, young lady.”
Rattled, Penelope searched for words, “Well sir, you see, some deeds cannot be undone . . .”
Spencer reasoned that Penelope had rehearsed the things she would say. As an experienced attorney, he often practiced his widely acclaimed courtroom skills in everyday conversations by allowing only what he considered relevant and not a word more.
“Where do you live?”
“Uh, well, Basin Street, Sir.”
“Speak up! Where did you say?”
“Basin Street, Basin Street.”
“Down near the wharf amongst the taverns, right? Where do you work?”
“Well uh, that really doesn’t matter does it?”
“Where do you work?”
“All right, all right. Erma’s Tavern and Lounge.”
“Un huh, a brothel?”
“Oh no, no sir, it’s a very respectable place. Gentlemen from all over meet there. I’m not what you’re . . .”
“When did this happen, your getting pregnant?”
“I don’t know just when, Mr. Spencer. Philip came to me every time he was in Washington.”
“About when?”
“Well, about July, maybe.”
“In July Philip was on a three month cruise to South America. He returned two weeks ago. Your baby could’ve come from a hundred other men, but not Philip. All you’re after is money and you won’t find it here. Now leave my house this instant.”
Penelope clenched her fists at her sides and stomped her foot. “You can’t call me a liar. It was so Philip; maybe it was June, I can’t remember You’re so high and mighty, you think you can treat people like me any old way. Well, you’ll see mister, you’ll see!”
John opened the study door. “Leave Miss Melford. If you ever come here again, I’ll have you arrested for slander and extortion.”
Penelope picked
up her parasol and stalked out the door. She met Elizabeth in the hall. Rage penetrated her makeup. She shouted, “You’re married to a bastard, your son’s a bastard, and you’re going to have a bastard grandbaby.” Elizabeth took a step back, aghast as Penelope slammed the front door on the way out.
“Bastard grandbaby! Oh Lordy! John, tell me what she’s talking about?”
“Forget her, she’ll never bother us again. She claimed Philip got her pregnant, but he couldn’t have. He wasn’t here at the time. She just wanted money.” He paused, then spoke, more to himself than to Elizabeth. “If he’d been here, it could’ve been him.”
“What will we do, John?” Elizabeth could not restrain her tears. Between sobs, she said, “Philip has been into so much trouble in the last three years. I can’t remember it all, and there’s no telling how many things I haven’t heard about. I can’t bear to hear about harlots and babies. I never thought I would see the day that I wished I hadn’t given birth to one of my own children.”
John stared at the stairs. He decided not to tell Elizabeth that he had heard just today about Philip striking an officer. He said, “I’ve got him on the Somers training cruise. I’ve heard Captain Mackenzie is a stern disciplinarian who can make a man out of Philip. If not, by god, I’ll disown that boy. He’s brought nothing but shame and disgrace to this family.”
CHAPTER 2
“Come in Mackenzie. Do you still plan to cast off in two weeks?” Commodore Perry struck a match to light his pipe but it went out. Matthew Calbraith Perry was the younger brother of Oliver Hazard Perry. Oliver was only 27 during the War of 1812 when he captured an entire British fleet on Lake Erie in spite of overwhelming odds. His victory and his message, “We have met the enemy and they are ours.” made him an enduring American hero. The Commodore struck a new match and this time successfully lit his pipe, generating an impressive cloud of smoke.
The aroma of pipe smoke pleased Mackenzie. Even though Perry and Mackenzie were brothers-in-law their conversations were extraordinarily formal. Perhaps this was because many of their meeting encounters were in the presence of other officers and politicians. “Yes sir, Commodore, most of our supplies are secure in the hold. We will stock up on perishables the day before we cast off. I’m currently interviewing officers and training the seamen.” Alexander Slidell Mackenzie, born in 1803 as Alexander Slidell, adopted the last name Mackenzie as a condition to the will of a bachelor uncle who did not want his name to die with him. By 1842 he had captained several ships, and besides his navy career, he had authored several books while on leave to recover from yellow fever.
“This is a truly historic mission you’ll command, Captain. You and I have worked long and hard to gain support for this mission; It must not fail.”
“Indeed we have sir, and I’m honored that you have placed such confidence in me. Rest assured that I’ve resolved to make this cruise a precedent for training U. S. sailors for many years to come.”
“I’m sure you will succeed, Captain, and I’m proud that my sons will be serving under you on this cruise.” The Perry family continued their naval tradition with the older son, Matthew C. Perry, Jr. serving as Mackenzie’s Acting Master and son Oliver H. Perry as Acting Midshipman. “Now, for the reason I sent for you. We must discuss a sensitive matter.”
“I can guess, Sir. You’re concerned about my request to transfer Midshipman Philip Spencer.”
“Exactly, Captain, he’s the Secretary of War’s son, you know.”
“Commodore Perry, I’m well aware of the influence from above to have him assigned to my brigantine. Nevertheless, I’ve reviewed Spencer’s record carefully. There can be only one conclusion; He’s an incorrigible troublemaker. On his last voyage, he struck an officer on two separate occasions. He neglects his duties, is addicted to rum, and worst of all, he leads other men into mischief making.”
Commodore Perry struck a match and re-lit his pipe. Clouds of thick smoke billowed out. “I’ve read his record also. The problem is, no one has dared reprimand him officially. Everyone has been afraid that it’ll reflect poorly on them to punish the Secretary’s son. Regrettably, I intervened once myself. Officially, young Spencer’s record is clean.”
Mackenzie said, “Secretary Spencer must know of his son’s deviant ways.”
“That he does. Secretary of the Navy, Upshur, has confided with me personally. Mr. and Mrs. Spencer are at their wits end. Young Spencer has failed in two universities, causing heartbreak and trouble along the way. Secretary Spencer is hopeful that the discipline of your cruise will be just the thing to straighten out his son.”
Mackenzie said, “This’ll be the strictest training mission the Navy has ever had, and we’ll have some unruly seamen. But Spencer would be a midshipman. Midshipmen should be setting good examples for the seamen, not requiring discipline themselves.”
Perry drew hard on his pipe, but it had gone out again, so he gave up and tapped out its ashes in the ashtray. “I understand your position, but you must understand mine. Secretary Spencer supported our mission partly because he expected his son to be on it. If I support your request to transfer young Spencer, I will be overruled by Secretary Upshur. Regardless of our wishes, young Spencer will be on board your brigantine.”
“Spencer is Secretary of War. He can’t command Upshur as Secretary of the Navy to do anything with his son.”
“In theory that is correct, but as a practical matter Spencer is a very influential member of Tyler’s cabinet and Upshur needs his support on larger issues.”
“Politics, then?”
“Exactly.”
Captain Mackenzie stared out the window. The Navy should not be run on the whims of a doting father. It would be irksome to have a man under his command who thought he could do anything without fear of punishment.
Perry continued, “I know Secretary Spencer well. He’s a brilliant but inflexible man. When his mind is made up, he shuts off all discussion. His decisions are final and never reversed. I think that’s why President Tyler likes him.”
Captain Mackenzie took a deep breath. “I understand. You are asking me to rescind my order to transfer Spencer.”
“I won’t tell you what to do, but if you do rescind the order, we could tend to other important matters. If you don’t, then I feel I’ll have no choice but to overrule you. I’ll not pass the decision on to Upshur, making him as miserable as I am, when the final outcome is already known.”
Captain Mackenzie pursed his lips. He knew it would not do to force Commodore Perry to overrule him. He said, “There appears to be no alternative. I’ll rescind the request and sincerely strive to make Midshipman Spencer a good officer. But understand, sir, I’ll not favor him over any other midshipman.”
“Perhaps Captain, we’ve judged young Spencer too harshly. He is older now, and I hope, wiser. It’ll be a fine thing if he becomes a good officer.”
**********
The sun shown brightly on the afternoon of September 1, 1842, but the air was crisp in the Brooklyn Navy Yard. An occasional breeze whipped from one direction and then another. The crisp air felt exhilarating on the way to Commodore Perry’s office, but now the sun was low and Captain Mackenzie raised the collar on his jacket. He had planned to hand pick his officers and midshipman. Good officers were fundamental for good discipline on board a ship and one bad officer could disrupt the entire cruise.
This cruise would be highly visible and most important for his career. He remembered the day a year earlier that Commodore Perry had expressed his concern about the misfits and scruffy characters that enlisted in the Navy. Without giving it much thought he made some remark about, “Perhaps a training ship would be good.” Perry seized the idea at once and the two of them had worked on the project until Congress finally accepted it.
Mackenzie had always acted enthused about the project with Perry and the congressmen, but the need for it was vague in his mind. Most of a seaman’s work is routine. Do you need to train boys to scrub the deck or polis
h the brass? It seemed obvious to him; if they don’t do it to suit you, you have them flogged. It might even be counterproductive for them to learn too much. They might begin to resist authority. Unquestioned discipline was much more important and that is what he intended to stress. Once out of sight of America it would all be in his hands and he would command the ship his way.
The logic for selecting enlisted men was scanty, but the logic for selecting midshipmen was not only scanty, it was faulty. Too often midshipman were the sons or relatives of rich, powerful, and influential men who had little or no regard for their fitness to be officers. Under that system Philip Spencer was eminently qualified to be a midshipman.
Perry reasoned that properly indoctrinated recruits would demonstrate that young men could be molded into seamen and officers of high character. The Navy would then attract a better quality of recruits. This new concept, that he referred to as “school at sea,” had never been considered before. In the past, new recruits went directly to sea and learned their skills by working beside more experienced men. This is the way Mackenzie had started and he thought the system worked well, but he found it easy to be persuaded by Perry, especially since it would bode well for his career and he would be captain of a fine new brigantine.
The U. S. Brig-Of-War Somers, tied to a massive wharf, came into view. The air was heavy with fish odors and noisy seagulls. Captain Mackenzie stopped, folded his arms, and leaned against a pillar. He was immensely proud to be captain of this fine new brigantine. It was 103 feet long, with 25 foot beam, and two tall, raking masts. She was a thing of beauty on the shakedown cruise. There were square sails on the masts and four jibs on her monstrous long bowsprit. She could rightfully claim the honor of being the fastest ship in any navy. Ten guns peered out of square ports on her spar deck.