Frigates of War: A John Phillips Novel

by Richard Testrake

  “That is what we will do, then. I expect Naiade will be returning from Alexandria shortly. Who shall I appoint as her commander after Fessler leaves?”

  “I assume you intend to continue using her to deliver dispatches?”

  “I do.”

  “Then I recommend young Webley. He’s a fine seaman and can handle her.”

  Considering everything, Smith nodded. “Assuming no desperate emergencies arise, I intend to send you as far as Gibraltar in Naiade as soon as she arrives, and we make our changes. Of course, you are merely a passenger, and Webley the commander, but possibly you could also serve as an un-official commodore. Just to keep the young man from trying to take on a French three decker.”

  A week later, Naiade had arrived, and the command changed over. Webley was proud as possible over his appointment as her commander, with the title of Captain. He was not so pleased when he found his passenger to Gibraltar was to be his old Captain Phillips. Phillips in turn resolved to spend as much time as possible in the great cabin and not harass the new captain with questions. The time spent traversing the length of the Mediterranean seemed interminable. Once, a French privateer provided a little excitement when it showed interest. When Naiade raised her flag and displayed her broadside though, the privateer changed its mind and left. Afterward, Phillips asked Webley for his comments on the occasion.

  “Well Sir, I knew with an important passenger, I couldn’t engage her unless I had no choice. I thought if I just put the wind on my quarter and left, she might spend the day chasing. My plan in showing the broadside was to give her cause to think. Did she really want to face my broadside, and have to account to his owners for the repairs?”

  “I think you made the proper decision, Captain Webley. Had you had a full crew, I believe you could have decisively defeated him. He is out fishing for inoffensive merchants who are not likely to do him much damage.

  On arrival in Gibraltar, Phillips handed over the relevant dispatches to the governor, and was directed to the post office packet readying itself to leave for Portsmouth. The trip back was uneventful. He had only to wait an hour in the Admiralty waiting room to see Evan Nepean. He spent another hour going over the details of the war there. Nepean asked about the wound, which Phillips admitted to be uncomfortable, but nothing that would prevent him from doing his duty.

  “Captain Phillips, I just do not see anything on my plate that needs your services for now. Why not go back to your estate, and spend some time with your beautiful family. Maybe another yachting voyage, as you undertook a few years ago? At any rate, let that arm heal up.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Phillips got an inside seat on the mail coach and finally made it home. His son vaguely remembered him, and asked, “Are you my Dad?”

  Abigail stood there with her thumb in her mouth and stared at him.

  “I am indeed your dad, and will prove it. Wait ‘till I get my chest inside.”

  The porter hauled the big sea chest inside first, then went back to get the others. As he was swinging the lid open, Sarah entered the room. “John, don’t you dare get the children excited. Nurse will never get them to sleep.”

  “Just a moment dear, I have something for you also.”

  The first thing his hand found was a doll, a small one covered with Flemish lace, fresh from the smuggler’s boat. He handed it to the silent girl, who looked at it with awe. “John, now I must take that away from her. She will ruin it in a minute.”

  Next his hand found some clothing sized to fit a boy a little larger than Timothy, a Captain’s uniform complete with gold lace and a painted wooden sword, There you go, Timothy. This is yours. If you put it on, you’ll be a captain like me.”

  “John, why did you do this? He will have that reduced to rags this very day.”

  Finally he pulled out a jeweler’s box he had found in London. The jeweler had sworn any wife would forgive any husbandly trespass after receiving the gold and diamond necklace and pendant inside. He handed her the box and held his breath. The storm clouds drifted away as she picked the bauble from the box. “Oh John, it’s perfect.”

  With the squall dissipating, Phillips removed the rest of the presents. With the wrath of their mother gone, they resumed their joyful cries as new packages were opened. Alternately, he hauled out more gifts for Sarah. One she seemed to especially like was the silverware. He had a silversmith in Acre hammer out of a flood of shillings some very well made spoons, forks and the like. He told his wife, next time we get to London, we can order silver tableware to match this, or simply have this melted down and start fresh.”

  A week later, it was if he had never left. A pony had arrived for the children, an elderly mare wise in the ways of the young human. Sarah had put her enmity of husbands aside, and was the loving woman he had married. One day she ventured. “When will you go back, John?”

  “The last thing Evan Nepean told me was to go back to my beautiful family and take them yachting. What do you think? If we’re at sea, he’ll have a hard time finding me.”

  “Where would we get a yacht, in wartime, for goodness sake?”

  “We already have a merchant brig making a lot of money for us. I had another prize adjudicated recently, and think we can use the proceeds to have another made. What do you think?”

  “John, you were disturbed when I spent so much money. Now you want to spend a fortune too. What is the difference?”

  “The difference Sarah, is this new ship could make more money for us. We would be building the estate we will leave for our children.”

  “But what if a Frenchman captures it? Then, all that money will be lost.”

  “Sarah, that is what insurance is for. Every time our ship leaves port, she carries very expensive insurance, insuring us against her loss.”

  “I’m sorry John. I never learned about this when I was young.”

  “Sarah, what would you think about another voyage to America? I can have the ship made in New Bedford much cheaper than here. With better materials, too. Our best timber goes into our warships.”

  “What about the children? I won’t leave them.”

  “Take ‘em along with us. It will do them good to see other places.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Phillips had to do some corresponding with the shipyard in New Bedford to settle the particulars, and he needed to meet with Captain Haynes, who sailed their ship, ‘Sarah Forsythe’ for them. He had been training a young apprentice who he now felt was ready to take over as mate. His first mate, who had sailed three voyages with him, he thought was ready to take the reins as captain. You could take young Haggerty to New Bedford with you, and have him sail her back. See what you think of him.”

  “What about a mate? I’d need two or three.”

  “There will be plenty of people on the dock in New Bedford. Let Haggerty talk to some, maybe get some advice from the builder there, just like you did last time.”

  “What about you, Captain Haines. Are you happy with matters the way they are?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Captain Phillips. Your naval activity is quieting down. I am not transporting as much rum as I used to. I wonder about going to Jamaica, and picking up a load of sugar and bringing it back. Sugar is high right now, but cheap in the Caribbean. What do you think?”

  “I’d want you to sail in convoy. There are still French warships and privateers there. I don’t want to lose the brig, insurance or not.”

  Six months later, after much long distance negotiation and planning, the family landed in Boston. He hired a wagon on which to load their belongings, and a shay for the family. Sarah wanted to freshen up after weeks at sea, so they initially went to an inn. Sarah took rooms, while Phillips asked to leave the wagon in the barn for the time being. Driving the shay himself, he found the apartment where Sarah had stayed when she was last in Boston. Surprisingly, the very same rooms were available, and Phillips paid out the money the very moment it was asked. From the inn, he had sent a note by post to the New Be
dford shipyard where his new brig was being constructed. Inquiries revealed the roads were still as bad as when he was here the last time, so he resolved to go by boat as he had done before.

  A drive down to the port showed no signs of the schooner he had traveled in to New Bedford several years before. Asking around, he found a captain who was willing to transport him for the same price as inside coach fare. The captain introduced him to a lad he said could be trusted to drive his shay back to the inn in a respectable manner. Wind and tide being favorable, they were off. Once dropped off in New Bedford, Phillips elected to walk. He was armed with a letter of credit this time, rather than a bag of guineas, and thus was not burdened. The schooner captain said he would wait until the next morning, and would carry him back to Boston if he wished.

  This time, the boatyard was a flurry of activity. A brig at a wharf looked to be a twin of his vessel, and Phillips suspected it was his indeed. A few fishing boats were in varying stages of completion. A large building on high pilings was going up on the foreshore. Horse-drawn scoops were dredging a channel to the front of the building. Phillips had no idea what the building could be, unless it was some sort of warehouse.

  He walked up to the same shack that housed the yard’s office and went into the open door. David Johnson, the owner, designer and head carpenter straightened up from the draftsman’s table he was leaning over, and remembered. “Captain Phillips”, he called.

  “She’s all ready for you, Captain. Save for the ballasting. Your Captain will want to oversee that. And the copper. Word just came in the copper will be landing tomorrow or the next day.” Copper was not normally installed on ship bottoms here, since there were no rolling mills capable of making the sheets. Ship and boat owners here resigned themselves to scraping marine growth from their bottoms often. Phillips had sent copper from Britain on ahead, since he wanted nothing to do with that extra labour.

  He told Johnson he had brought a prospective captain with him. This man was now in Boston, scouting out a cargo. He would need in addition, a crew, and two or three mates.

  “No problem, Captain. When we get her ballast in, and her bottom coppered, men from all over will be trying to sign on. She should be ready to sail in a week, as long as there is no problem with the copper.”

  “Very well, I had better go back to Boston to my wife then. We can settle up before I leave. To satisfy my curiosity, what is that new building going up?”

  “Oh that will be our icehouse. We generate a lot of sawdust and shavings at the shipyard. We built the icehouse with a foot of space between its inner and outer walls. We will fill that space with sawdust and shavings. After the building is finished, farmers and their sons will bring us blocks of ice they cut from freshwater ponds in the winter. We will store them covered in sawdust in the building. Then, when we get an order for ice, we can draw a ship to the front, load her, and she can be on her way to whoever needs the ice. We’ll try to fill the building in winter, and hope to ship it out in early spring.”

  Phillips pondered, “That might be a good way for a ship owner to make money. Do you think that brig could handle the cargo?”

  “Without a doubt. The ice would need to be bedded on sawdust, of course, with more against the sides and top. The entire cargo hold would need to be full of ice and sawdust, then the ice would last for months.”

  “That is something to think about. For now, I am planning on sailing to Jamaica, and bringing a load of sugar to London. Prices are high there now.”

  “If you’re going to Jamaica, why don’t you call on Amos Fletcher. He has a warehouse full of salt cod he needs to move. They use it to feed their slaves in Jamaica.”

  Thinking he could make a profit on both legs of the trip, Phillips paid off the boatyard with his letter of credit, and trotted back into town. The schooner was still there, so informing the captain he would be right back, he asked for Amos Fletcher. He was directed to a prosperous looking warehouse smelling mightily of fish. Explaining to the man his schooner was about to leave for Boston, he wanted to arrange to pick up a cargo in a week, and was told salt cod was available.

  “You want a cargo for this little schooner?”

  “No, that brig David Johnson is finishing up. He says it will be done in a week. I want to fill it with salt fish and sail it to Jamaica.”

  “Very well, when can we get together to make arrangements?”

  “I think I’ll let my captain handle that. His name is Haggerty. He will be here in a few days to pick up a crew and take command of the brig. He will discuss with you loading the cargo and will be able to pay you with a letter of credit.”

  Back in Boston, Phillips met with his new Captain Haggerty. He explained the situation with the brig. How she just needed to have her copper installed to deter marine growth, and the ballast. He told Haggerty about Amos Fletcher and his salt cod. It was necessary to arrange a letter of credit for Haggerty, and a collection of other details. While Haggerty took care of the various matters, Phillips and Sarah showed Timothy and the baby around the neighborhood where they had stayed when the boy was born. After putting Haggerty on the coach to New Bedford, John and Sarah put the children to bed and discussed the future. Sarah was still concerned about his going back to sea. Phillips repeated what he had told her. “So long as our country is at war, I must be prepared to do my duty. I am however, as you can see, trying to prepare for the future when we are at peace. I hope to have several ships in our fleet to earn our living. Our new brig will be sailing to Jamaica on her first voyage to pick up a load of sugar to take to London. The prices are high now, and we should make a good profit.”

  “John, does the new ship have cabins for passengers like the old one?”

  “Yes, it’s pretty much a twin of our first one.”

  “Let’s get on board with the children and sail to Jamaica. We can spend some time there while the cargo is loaded, then go back home.”

  “That is going to be a long voyage, Sarah. How do you suppose the children will hold up?”

  “Oh, they did fine coming over. There will be no problems.”

  A letter arrived from Haggerty on the mail coach. The brig was now complete, with the ballast and copper installed. A crew had been signed, and she was being moved to the wharf at the fish warehouse. She would load and come down to Boston to bid the owners goodbye. Phillips told his wife, if she was sure, they would board the brig here and sail to Jamaica. First, they would need bedding and furnishings, as the cabins in the brig were bare. The innkeeper’s son was drafted to drive her around and carry her purchases to the wagon. Phillips reminded her of her shopping expedition where she bought so many things, they were unable to stow everything on board.

  Phillips remained in the inn with the children, where he spent time going over the business papers. He was surprised when the wagon pulled up in front of the inn hours early, and only half full. He rushed out, and learned his wife was ill, and not to ask questions. Questioning the driver, it was suggested his wife just had a cold. The driver’s mother had the same thing last week, and it was over in a few days. The brig entered the harbor that afternoon and moored, expecting to leave shortly. Going aboard, Phillips was greatly impressed by the powerful smell of fish. He informed Haggerty of the change in plans, and said they would need to transport aboard a large amount of furnishings for their stateroom. Phillips went back to shore and hired a workboat to carry the wagon’s contents out to the brig.

  Going back to the inn to collect his wife and children, he found her in bed with a streaming cold. She was adamant that she was not to be moved, but Phillips said the brig would be sailing without her, and he prevailed. Getting her aboard ship was a chore. With her refusing to move, they had to lay her on a board and hoist her up with a line from the main yard. By the time this was accomplished, the furnishings had been stowed in the cabin, while the children had been caught up and were being entertained by the cook below. Finally, Sarah had been secured in her new bed, and all became quiet. Haggerty infor
med Phillips they would be leaving on the morning tide, presuming the wind served.

  When the brig sailed next morning, there was the sound of almost constant retching coming from the Phillips’ quarters. That day was miserable for everyone on the brig, except for the children. They played constantly on deck with any of the sailors who would oblige. Haggerty proposed sailing east until leaving the Gulf Stream, then sailing south. It was going to be a long trip. The next day was better for both Mrs. Phillips, and everyone on the brig. The next was even better, and she confided to John, she thought she was getting better. “I will be so glad when my nose clears up.” A few hours later, she let out a piercing scream. Every adult male in the brig came running. “John, what is that horrible smell? It smells like rotting fish. Please get rid of it at once.”

  Sarah made it clear she and the children were not returning to Britain on ‘that stinking ship’. Accordingly, Captain Haggerty stood off the port of Kingston, on the island of Jamaica, while the family and belongings unloaded into a shore boat. Haggerty intended to continue on around the island, where he believed he could trade the salt cod for a cargo of raw sugar. Once on shore, Phillips learned the next packet to Britain would not leave for a month. They took up lodgings near the harbor, and Sarah became much taken up with the social scene. Not deeming her wardrobe adequate, she enlisted the aid of a local dress maker and milliner. Sarah was an attractive and sophisticated woman, who soon became much in demand for parties and soirees. John found such a painful bore, and tried to avoid them as much as possible, much preferring to stay at home with the children.

  One evening however, the Governor and his wife held a party that Sarah told him he absolutely could not avoid. He was philosophical about the matter. He had been told the packet would make its landfall any day now; then he would be free of this nonsense. Sarah tried to convince him to wear his uniform, but he firmly declined, instead wearing some old togs that made him resemble a down at the heel planter.