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

  “Sir, I do have the men who came here with me on the ‘Emily Jane’ prize brig. Some seamen and a few Marines.”

  “You do indeed, Lieutenant. Go have a look at your cutter. In the meantime, I’ll send a messenger over to the prize to send you the seamen. The Marines we had best leave there. I’ll send you a few of mine until you are ready to sail, just in case some of your people do not like the change in administration. If you need more men, you can send someone to the receiving ship to pick out more. I can give you a chit for them, if you give me a list of names.”

  As it happens, I have a few people aboard Diana I may be able to let you have. A master’s mate for one. He wishes to go back home. His father recently died and left him a trading vessel he wants to sail. Decide what your needs are and we will see what we can do for you.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Vixen

  After searching the harbor, Phillips spotted the topsail cutter referred to. It was tied up in a muddy tidal creek, alongside an old dock, the Vixen rather more ramshackle looking than the dock itself. A young Black seaman stood by the entry port, but there was no sign of any officer. As he approached, the seaman said, “He’p you suh?”

  “Phillips said, “I’m Lieutenant Phillips and the Governor has offered me the command of this vessel. Are any officers aboard her today?”

  “Jus’ the Master, suh. Ah kin fetch him in a jiffy.”

  The man disappeared down the after hatch and a moment later, a rumpled looking middle aged man holding a blue coat spread over his shoulders came out of the hatch. He was a bit clumsy coming through, since his left arm was in a sling. He was also rather obviously, a bit under the weather from drink.

  “Ben Jenkins, Sir. I am master of this craft. Sorry I was not on deck to greet you. I had no idea an officer was coming aboard.”

  Phillips explained his conversation with the Governor. “Will we have any problem getting to sea?”

  “Sir, I don’t know. The vessel herself is sound enough, but we have no stores aboard, or hardly any men, either. Ever since Captain Wilson left us, ships visiting the port have been drafting our people away from us. We still have most of the standing officers, aside from the gunner, but the working crew is mostly gone.”

  “What about yourself? How did you come by that arm?”

  “Well, at the time, I was master’s mate aboard the Whippet, a non-rated brig. We had run down a Yankee snow that was trying to get out of Wilmington and she hauled down her flag when we showed her our broadside. Our Cap’n, Mister Berry, had me go aboard to see whether she was worth sending in.”

  “Their cook had been asleep down below and was pretty pissed when he came up and found the ship had been taken. He grabbed a musket that was laying where somebody had dropped it and fired. The ball damn near took my arm off. Thankfully, our sawbones was drunk and the bosun patched me up. If the sawbones had got to me, he would have took off the arm. Anyhow, when we got into port, the master on this cutter worked out a trade with the admiral, before he left. I came here and he went on the Whippet.”

  Phillips replied, “Very well, understand I am not your captain at this moment, but I will be as soon as I read myself in. It would be better if we had more of a crew aboard before I do that. However, it might be a good idea if the standing officers would start listing all the needs and defects, so we may get a start in getting them corrected before the Vixen does go to sea.”

  Jenkins explained about the men aboard the receiving ship ‘General Washington’. “Every time a prize enters the harbor and is placed in the hands of the prize court, the men and officers are taken off and placed aboard an old, captured sugar transport. Usually the ships they come from, return and get them, but sometimes they get drafted into other ships that need men. If you want, I can go to the transport tomorrow and pick out some hands. The only real seaman we have now is Caesar, the hand that met you at the entry port.”

  Phillips was mildly curious about Caesar. There were plenty of Blacks in the Royal Navy, but Caesar had an accent that was strange to him. Jenkins explained. “He came with me from the Whippet. I think it was off the coast of Virginia when Cap’n Berry decided he wanted some oysters for his supper.”

  “We went cruising close to shore and ran down an oyster boat. Mister Berry bought a bushel from the boat and Caesar, the boat’s crewman carried them aboard. Turns out he was a slave, owned by the fisherman. Somebody asked him if he wanted to go back and he said no, so our captain read him in and he is now a free Royal Navy sailor. It was right after that I was shot and Caesar was put to tending to me. When I came here, Caesar came with me. That oysterman was right livid, when we took Caesar.”

  “Is it normal practice aboard this craft to have a seaman stand watch by himself, with no officer present?”

  “No sir, not usually, but we have so few people aboard, that we do what we need to do.”

  Hearing the sounds of a group of men coming along the lane to the pier, Phillips said, “That sounds like some men that are to be taken aboard today. I’d like it if you went to the entry port and did the honors.”

  After the hands from the prize crew reported aboard, Phillips asked Mr. Jenkins to call all crew members present to the quarterdeck. When the few remaining standing officers as well as the Black seaman he had met previously approached and joined the new hands, Philips came through the hatch and motioned the two Marines from Diana to stand beside him.

  Unfolding his orders from the governor, he cleared his throat and read them aloud to the men. He was now officially the captain, with the power of life or death over the men. Most of the men treated it as an everyday occurrence, just about what had been expected.

  Most of them ignoring the talking, were observing their new home and the strangers around them. Some of the men from the prize brig seemed confused with Phillips wearing an officer’s uniform instead of his midshipman’s togs and acting like a captain.

  One of the men, wanting to get at the bottom of these proceedings, began to push his way forward. A Marine grabbed him, spun him around and shoved him back into the group. The master said, “Take his name, Sir?”

  “Not now, Mister Jenkins. Men, most of you know me. Tomorrow, we will probably take aboard other men, before we go to sea. You have all heard me read my orders. I am Lieutenant Phillips, formerly of the sloop Athena, now I am captain of the Vixen. For those interested, I was given an acting commission by the Captain of the Athena, which was confirmed by the governor here. We will become more organized as we get the rest of our people aboard. In the meantime, all of us will behave like the experienced seamen that we are.”

  Selecting a seaman who had served on one of his gun crew’s back on the Athena, Phillips called him. “Anderson, come here.”

  The wondering man came forward and after a second’s pause, knuckled his forehead in salute. “Anderson, I want you to go into my cabin and maybe the wardroom, see if you can find me a table and a pair of chairs there.”

  The man disappeared below after an “Aye, Sir” and the table and two chairs were soon placed on the quarterdeck.

  “Mr. Jenkins, would there be pen, ink and paper aboard the cutter?”

  “Sir, I have such in my cabin.”

  After a promise to replace the items, Phillips and Jenkins sat down at the table. They needed to assign each man to a watch, hopefully at tasks for which the man had already been trained. The first list was very limited since there were not enough men to fill every task. Another list had to be made, listing the station of each man aboard under differing circumstances.

  When they finished that, as well as they were able, Phillips turned the crew over to Jenkins and the other standing officers. The cook came forward and protested there would not be enough food aboard to feed the evening meal and the purser assured him they were short of the spirits necessary for the men’s ration. Calling the standing officers together again, he reminded them that he had earlier asked for a list of wants and needs from each department.

  He now
told them he was ordering them, at the risk of their rate, to produce such lists.

  With lists from the purser and cook in hand, he decided to visit first the Diana, then the George Washington receiving ship. A ride in a two wheeled cart cost thruppence, which he thought was highway robbery. Luckily, Captain Edwards was aboard the Diana and immediately wrote out a chit for the required men and provisions.

  He then went to the provisioning wharf where he was told he would need to bring the cutter there, right then. If he wanted the provisions soon, he would need to supply hands to load them; since there were not enough men available in the yard. Phillips suspected the superintendent hired such men on a casual basis and with the RN supplying the labor gratis, would simply put the funds in his purse.

  The captured Rebel ship, George Washington, was packed full of crewmen and junior officers. He talked with a twenty year old passed midshipman, as Phillips himself had been a few weeks before. He did not explain to the man that hours before, he had had only an acting commission himself. Midshipman Crawford had been on the ship for a month waiting for the frigate he belonged to.

  When asked, Crawford assured him that he was not at all anxious to rejoin his frigate and would be happy to sail with the Vixen, furnished of course, with the proper orders from the Governor.

  Phillips went around the ship with Crawford, interviewing men. Phillips wanted no unwilling people aboard the small cutter, so wrote down the names of those who expressed their willingness. On the way back to the Vixen, they stopped by Diana, where he gave the captain’s clerk the names of the people selected.

  It was late in the afternoon when they got back at the cutter and the hungry, ill-tempered men unmoored ship and the Vixen made her way to the provisioning wharf. The warehouse where the superintendent kept his office was now closed, but a watchman, impressed by Phillips’ uniform and paperwork, let them in. Phillips hoped that the superintendent might have put out the necessary barrels of beef, pork, cheese, dried peas and other provisions out for them, but this had not happened.

  In the absence of any crew around, Phillips asked the master to witness that he had placed the proper chits under the super’s locked door, then ordered the men to start moving barrels.

  They rolled the casks out to the dock, then used tackle to swing the material on board. While the men were working, Phillips realized the sun was setting. It would take hours for the cook to prepare a meal from the salted and dried rations. Standing on the quarterdeck, he spotted a man, a boy and a dog driving a small herd of cattle along the dockside road.

  Looking around, he saw the young midshipman that had come to them from the Athena. He sent Midshipman Horton, along with a senior hand to approach the drover and see if he would sell one of his charges. When the pair came back, the boy said the man would indeed sell a bullock. The hand interjected. “His price was way too high, Yer Honor. He wanted seven Spanish dollars. I told him you would pay five.”

  Sending the pair out again, this time bearing the required Spanish dollars from his dwindling hoard, they returned driving a terrified bullock, one who definitely did not want to leave its comrades. A gang of hands soon had the animal dispatched, cut up into mess sized chunks and dropped into the cook’s copper. It would still be a lengthy wait for the meat to cook, but the men would not need to wait until the salt had been soaked from the preserved beef in cask and the men were able to smell the cooking meat while they worked.

  Phillips decided the men would have a double ration of rum after they finished their work. This at least would put them in a better frame of mind.

  The Vixen still had no gunner, but he had discovered a gunner’s mate on the General Washington, that he suspected would do well.

  A Marine messenger brought a note from Captain Edwards. Phillips was ordered to report to the Diana frigate and advise him concerning his activities and any further items the cutter might require; Edwards still acting in lieu of the commodore who was at sea.

  The next week saw them hurriedly getting the cutter ready for departure, after receiving repeated queries from Diana and the shore. When Vixen was finally ready in all respects and had received her pouches from Government House, she set sail as ordered. Sailing up the Leeward Islands, the crew had to be constantly alert for enemy privateers.

  Both French and Spanish corsairs abounded in these waters, more or less legally. At least Sailing Master Jenkins thought most of them carried letters of marque. Any vessel caught preying on shipping, whether merchant or naval that did not have such a document was liable to be considered a pirate and treated accordingly.

  Vixen dodged two such suspicious vessels on her way out of the dangerous region. Finally slipping past Cuba out into the Atlantic, Phillips felt more at ease. Following the Gulf Stream up the East Coast, they saw remarkably few ships, except for one French privateer who chased them for most of a day.

  Their cutter being faster and able to sail closer to the wind, they finally ran his topsails under the horizon and sailed farther out to sea. The cutter had begun taking on water up forward as she sailed north and upon reaching Halifax, as soon as all the pouches had been landed, Phillips made arrangements to have the Vixen surveyed for underwater damage.

  As it developed, the cutter had lost some copper up forward, probably months ago and the hull had become wormed in that area. It was necessary to empty the cutter, send the people to quarters on land and lay her on her beam on a sand beach so they could get at the leak. New wood, caulking and copper repaired the problem and finally they were able to refloat the cutter, fill her again with people and stores and report her readiness to go back to sea, weeks after her arrival.

  It was a bitter, cold day in the Halifax winter when she sailed again. She had missed the admiral when she arrived as the fleet had sailed south again after the hurricane season had finished. The dispatches meant for her to deliver to London, had already left on a different ship, but the Royal Navy was always able to generate new paperwork and now she had a new collection of pouches in the miniscule captain’s quarters.

  In the difficult winter crossing of the North Atlantic, encountering one howling storm after another, the Vixen slowly worked her way across. Realizing Jenkins was a much better navigator than himself, he let the master handle the task.

  Days would go by without sight of the sun or stars and it was a most wearing job to attempt to predict where they were at any point in time. Finally, Jenkins was able to get a sun shot at local noon and assuming their chronometer wasn’t too far off, there was a rather good guess at their possible location.

  Entering the Channel, they were spotted by a brig, which Jenkins was sure was American. Phillips thought they could take on the brig, but he was wary of the instructions he had received regarding avoiding prize-chasing. However, the brig ended up chasing them for two days. Normally the cutter would have been the faster, but in the present gale conditions, the lightly built Vixen had to reef canvas to keep from losing her gear, while the sturdier enemy crept up to them.

  Phillips was sure they would lose the enemy brig during the first night, but next morning, there she was, hull down, on her starboard beam. Phillips had been given strict orders to avoid initiating combat and was worried about violating those instructions. He had been warned verbally and in his written instructions he must do his best to avoid combat with enemy forces. He was strictly forbidden to pursue potential prizes. In this position however, if he did nothing, they were apt to be taken themselves.

  The brig had ports for sixteen guns, six pounders, Jenkins judged. The cutter had only ten, with the two forward guns being only four pounders. From the speed the privateer took in sail, as the wind increased, Phillips judged the craft had a large crew, well trained at that.

  When asked his opinion, Jenkins allowed they would probably be taken if they did nothing. As they scudded along, the lookout shouted a squall was about to overtake them. When fully enveloped by the blinding flurry, Jenkins put the cutter about and as she came out, met the privateer
on her leeward side, almost gunnel to gunnel.

  The enemy’s gun ports were closed on that side and her guns boused right up, so none could break loose in the squall. Putting double crews on his guns, Phillips got four guns on his weather side ready to fire. As they came alongside, he gave the order to fire. The gun captains did not attempt to use the flintlock firing mechanism, but used the old tried and true slow match in the linstock.

  One of the guns got a dollop of water in its touchhole and that one did not fire. The other three guns did, at almost the same instant. The enemy lee gunnel was almost under water, but a wave heaved the brig up for an instant. Two balls hit the same strake, at short pistol shot.

  In calmer weather, this strake would have been above the water line and the damage not immediately dangerous. In this case though, that strake was plunged a fathom under water immediately after being struck and the vessel began to settle. Dozens of men manned the sides of the enemy and grapnels flew to bind the ships together.

  Phillips called ‘All Hands’ to try to repel boarders, but before the enemy could get across, a wave swept over the deck of the privateer, over a combing and down into an open hatch. Instantly, the vessel began to settle, their would-be boarders waist deep in surging water. Axes were busy aboard the Vixen, cutting the lines on the grapnels.

  By the time the lines had been severed, the gale had passed them. The wind had subsided, but the sea was still high. With not enough time and not enough men at the pumps, the brig went down with a rush, Vixen managed to make its way back to a cluster of men in the water. She ran one man down while approaching, but managed to get lines down to some of the others, who were pulled on board.

  They finally entered the Thames and made their way up the river to London, where Vixen moored in the Pool and Phillips reported in to the admiralty. An official there took custody of his pouches and he was told he might as well go home for a month or more since after the strenuous crossing it would probably be necessary to survey the cutter again.