On the King's Sea Service: A John Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 1) (5 page)

Locating the Enemy

At sea, Phillips ordered: “Mister Braddock, please set course for Le Havre. We will report to the Channel Fleet off the coast there. After we are squared away, have the purser issue the grog, a double issue today I think, then send the hands to dinner. If you find someone who you think might do as my servant, please send him to me after dinner. Now, I believe I will go to my cabin, to see what I have to work with.”

A Marine was standing tall outside his cabin, as stiff as a statue. He addressed the man. “What is your name, Private?” The astonished Marine, trained to keep his mouth shut, considered, before answering, “Burns, Sir.”

“Very well Private Burns, There will be times when I need to call for someone. If I do, you are to repeat my call.”

“Aye aye Sir.”

“And, any time your sergeant or one of my officers is not around, feel free to scratch your arse if you need to.”

The dumbfounded Marine could not utter his standard “Aye aye Sir.” He made a sort of nod and remained at attention.

In his cabin, Phillips found his gear including the purchased cabin stores from the naval outfitters piled in the center. Other than that, the place was empty. In the sleeping cabin, there swung a hanging bed, basically a shallow wooden box hanging from the overhead from a line to each corner.

While he was trying to make some order from this state of affairs, the Marine at the door shouted, “Landsman Jones, Sah.”

A wizened little man of indeterminate age entered his hat in his hands. “Silas Jones, Sir”, he muttered.

“Well. Jones. What can I do for you?”

“First officer sent me sir.”

“You are to be my servant, then?”

“Dunno Sir, Maybe, Sir.

“Well, we’ll give it a try.” Going to the door, he asked the Marine to pass the word for the carpenter. When the carpenter stood in the door, knuckling his forehead, he asked him what could be done to store his belongings out of sight. Chips said, “Captain, the Lord Brumley had a pantry next to the bread locker that he kept his food and wine in.”

“That’s still there. Now, when we took the ship out of ordinary, there were little lockers fitted in all around your cabins for clothes and belongings. He had me tear them all out and he had shore side cabinet makers make some fine mahogany cabinets. I could have told him they wouldn’t stay in place in any sea way, but he generally wouldn’t listen. When he got sick and went ashore, his people came on board and took all that out.”

“Have you any recommendations?”

“Well Sir, I could rebuild her like she was before. Build all those cabinets and such?”

“That would be a good plan, Chips. Better get started.”

Now was a good time to deal with the master. He seemed to be in very sad shape, when Braddock brought the man before him. He appeared to have worn the same clothes for days and at some time had vomited upon himself.

Braddock introduced him to Mister Avery, the sailing master. Staring at the man, Phillips observed, “Both Admiral Parker and Captain Raleigh told me separately that you were a great friend of the bottle. We will be operating off a hostile shore, often by ourselves. The ship greatly needs the services of a competent sailing master. Now, am I going to be able to rely upon you, or are you going to report ‘sick’ again just when I need you the most?”

“Sir, you can count on me. Mostly, I don’t drink at sea. But sometimes on the shore, the need just overpowers me.”

“Avery, I can’t do anything about you now. We’re on our way to report to the Channel Fleet off Le Havre. If you behave in any unprofessional manner though, I will have you standing in front of the admiral before you can spit. Are we understood?”

“Yes Sir.”

“I dislike telling a man when he can or cannot drink, but it would truly be wise for you to keep the cork in the bottle while we are at sea. Dismissed, Sailing Master Avery.”

Going out to the quarterdeck, Phillips saw they were by themselves in a sunny sky, under a topsail breeze. Braddock had the deck and Phillips waved him over. “You’ve been on deck since we left Portsmouth. Who’s to relieve you?”

“Well, Sir, generally the Master and I have alternating watches, but with him being sick...”

“Sick, my arse. The man was drunk. Send somebody below and get him up here, then go rest, yourself. I’ll be in my quarters.”

Avery reported on deck and relieved the lieutenant. Phillips saw he had attempted to shave, but had apparently been interrupted while doing so. Patches of beard and drying smudges of soap mottled his face. By standing on a chair in his cabin, Phillips could look through the skylight in his quarters.

Observing, he saw one of the junior midshipmen making some antic gestures behind Avery’s back. A passing master’s mate stopped and apparently chastised the boy. After a moment, Phillips removed his coat and hat and went out on deck. Going to the helm, he checked the course and asked the helmsmen, “What was the problem a minute ago between the midshipman and the master’s mate?”

The men were clearly hesitant to respond and one of them said, “Dunno, Sir.”

Pondering a moment he went back to his quarters, speaking to the Marine at his door. “Private Burns, I don’t know all the men’s names yet. That master’s mate on deck now, up forward, do you know his name?”

“That’s Mister Ackroyd, Sir.”

“Would you pass the word for him to report to my quarters, please?”

The captain heard several calls for ‘Mister Ackroyd, report to Captain’s quarters’.”

A minute later, the Marine reported, “Mister Ackroyd, Sir.”

When he said “Enter”, the alarmed young man came in the cabin.

“Mister Ackroyd, I wonder what that exchange between you and that boy up forward a few minutes ago, was all about?”

“Captain, he thought Mister Avery looked comical when he came on deck.”

“What would you recommend we do about it, Mr. Ackroyd?”

“Sir, if he were one of the other mids, I’d say we should masthead him.”

“What’s different between him and the other mids?”

“Sir, Captain Lord Brumley brought Mullins aboard with him. He is the son of a friend who serves in the Lords with him. We were told none of us were to administer any punishment to the boy.”

“Mr. Ackroyd, since I am now captain, I will be making the decisions about administering punishment. For now, have Mister Mullins sent to whatever masthead you select. Make sure he understands about the change of administration. His next infraction will cause him to kiss the gunner’s daughter.” Boys committing infractions, were often bent over a gun, the ‘gunner’s daughter’ and beaten on the buttocks. As it was, young Mullins could expect to be exiled to the summit of one of the masts until either the captain or first lieutenant called him down.

The next few days were spent in training the crew. Hours were spent exercising the various specialties aboard, especially the gun crews. The coast of France was just in sight from the deck, when another mastheaded mid spotted a sail hull down right up against the land ahead.

As the Exeter swept in to investigate, her lookouts spotted the brig, pinned by the wind against the land in a little bay. She seemed at first to be attempting to beat out, but after spotting Exeter, she changed her mind and anchored.

A village stood against the head of the bay. Fishing boats dotted the bay, with one in sight just around a point, to their starboard. The Exeter stood away from the land and slowly drifted back out to sea in the light airs, keeping the separate boat behind the point just in sight as long as the light lasted.

As the sun dropped, the Exeter came back toward the last known location of the boat they were stalking. It had been drifting and was no longer where they had last seen it, but someone in the boat uncovered a lantern and revealed its position. Phillips had ordered the binnacle light covered and all other lights in the ship had been extinguished. The sloop ghosted right near the fishing boat before its crew heard the water burbling under the prow.

The first lieutenant had gone about the sloop before, to see if anyone aboard was fluent in the French language. Surprisingly, the only such person was the young Mullins. He had had schooling in Paris before the war and was fluent.

Phillips had him ask the boat’s crew whether they would sell some fish. After animated conversation, Midshipman Mullins reported that, while fishing was poor tonight, they did have a few they would sell; the boat crew hurriedly threw some fish in a wood box and passed it up.

The only French coin available on the ship, were a few old silver livres belonging to crew members. Phillips traded a pound note for each coin. The French crewmen were excited about their good fortune, so Phillips asked if they would like to come aboard to have a glass of rum, or perhaps some wine. They gladly clambered up on deck and Phillips led the procession of French boat crew and Midshipman Mullins to his dining cabin.

Phillips saw that Chips had made great strides in getting his quarters livable. A long dining table stood constructed and Jones had spread a length of sailcloth over it. A problem arose, when it became apparent there was only one chair available.

The Marine was called into the room and helped Jones construct a makeshift bench from a board laid over a couple kegs of his provisions that had not been stowed yet. The Frenchmen were impressed with the strength of the rum and several toasts were drunk to the glory of France and long life to the Republic.

Phillips was uncomfortable with that toast, imagining the consequences that might ensue should his superiors hear of it. He comforted himself with the thought that since he knew no French, he had no official way of knowing what the toast amounted to.

Finally, Phillips thought the fishermen might be in the mood to answer some questions he had about the harbor and its defenses. Immediately, the camaraderie ceased. The individual Phillips judged to be the owner of the boat gave a harangue in impassioned French.

Mullins reported the French were insulted to be asked to spy on their village. It was obvious that the interview was over. As the group rose to go on deck, Phillips noticed that one of the group, younger than the others, was hanging back a bit. Phillips had the idea the lad did not want to return to the fishing boat.

In a quick aside to his translator, the captain asked him to see if the boy would like to go inspect the midshipmen’s berth. The bewildered Mullins did so and the boy nodded agreement. The other two boat crew were now fuddled with the rum they had consumed and seemed not to notice they had lost one of their party. It was only after the two got into the fishing boat, that one started calling for André.

Once the boat was cast off and left behind, Phillips ordered Mullins and André brought back to his quarters. His questions were answered. It seemed the lad’s grandfather, the old town mayor, had been visited by the local Committee of Public Safety. This was a group of loud individuals who had heard of that organization in Paris and thought it would be well if they could start a branch organization in the village. The idea being, they could use their imagined powers to rid the village of those who thought differently than themselves.

They showed the local blacksmith a woodcut of a guillotine as used in Paris and one was soon constructed. The machine had already been tested. It worked as expected. The first test victim was a trussed pig, the mayor was the second. André was adamant that he wanted to be away from France. He felt he also would be soon under the blade if he remained in the village. Phillips offered the lad passage to England, or any other destination in Europe his ship might go.

The boy said the brig they had seen enter the harbor was anchored under the four guns of a newly constructed battery. He did not know the caliber of the guns, but held up his hands, indicating the size of the ball. Phillips guessed the guns to be twelve or perhaps eighteen pounders.

Nothing like he would wish his little ship to face. For his ship to close the brig, or the town itself, they would first have to pass the battery situated on the side of the bay. Calling in the sailing master, they examined a chart of the area. The bay was located a little to the northwest of Le Havre. A stream running to the sea entered the little bay near the location where the brig was located.

Exeter was behind a thin peninsula that formed the southern limit of the bay. The chart showed a coast road that ran northerly past the rear of the village.

Releasing the men to their duties, Phillips ordered the French lad installed into the midshipmen’s berth and the ship sailed out to sea. At daybreak, the first officer was called to the captain’s quarters, along with the sailing master, now perfectly sober and capable, the Sergeant of Marines and the bosun.

A plan was developed. The ship would demonstrate in the bay its presence, perhaps firing a shot or two toward the shore. Obviously the crew of the fishing boat would have reported their presence by now, so there would be no loss of the surprise factor. At dusk, the ship would sail directly out to sea, far enough out that no one from shore, at however high an elevation, could possibly see them.

After dark, the ship would proceed to the far side of the peninsula and remain there overnight. Under cover of darkness, a landing party would be loaded into boats and sent to shore, hidden from the village by the intervening peninsula. During the night, they would proceed along the coast road until coming to the village.