HMS Aphrodite (Sea Command Book 1) (4 page)

Spencer seemed to be a kindly old gentleman who wondered what Mullins wished to see him about. The clerk, standing behind Mullins, scrambled forward and whispered into Spencer’s ear.

“Ah yes, now I remember. Sir John’s dispatches have reached us and some of us wondered about some of the actions reported. Admiral Jervis tells us that you have been a very energetic officer who may well warrant being watched more closely.”

“We are told that a commander wishing for a desired result, may merely dispatch you and find later the mission has been accomplished with little fuss. I am curious however. I believe I know your father. He is a very politically adept person and usually gets his way with most matters.

Since my minions can find no record of your appearing before any board to receive your commission, I wonder just how you acquired it.”

Mullins explained how he had learned he had been promoted. He told of his former captain presenting him with the document, informing him it had come directly from the Admiralty.

Spencer looked pensive. “Mister Mullins, I will tell you I do not like such affairs. This business will be examined in closer detail. It is the intent of this administration that all midshipmen be examined as to their qualifications before being given the King’s Commission.”

“In your defense however, you seem to be well above the average of those newly commissioned officers. I do hope we may find ourselves allowing you to keep this lieutenancy. Good day to you, Mister Mullins. You will be contacted shortly.”

Required to leave an address where he could be reached, Mullins was at a loss. He knew Havoc would be likely out of commission for some time and from the sound of Lord Spencer’s words, it seemed unlikely he would be given command after her repair. For the time being, he elected to remain in his parent’s town house in London.

Hearing nothing for a few weeks, Mullins was certain that his father’s actions had caught up with him. Convinced his career in the Royal Navy was at an end, he almost told his butler to refuse to admit a visitor in uniform. Suffering from the blue devils of late, Mullins had little interest in meeting people. When he was told the visitor was elderly and on crutches, he relented and ordered the man admitted.

This visitor was Lieutenant Harden, wounded in the American War, years before. With the loss of his left leg, he was unemployable at sea and had been given this sinecure of a job of delivering messages for the Admiralty. He was not elderly, but did appear to be in his forties.

Mullins offered the messenger a glass of wine to help him recover from the effects of the cold wind and damp which indicated the cold of winter was approaching. Ignoring the packet lying on the table, Mullins made casual conversation with the messenger until he was addressed once as ‘sir’ and another as ‘captain’.

Thinking Harden was unaware of his actual status, Mullins addressed the issue. “Lieutenant, I am an unemployed lieutenant, much like yourself. Although, you do have a position whereas I do not!”

Harden looked at him strangely. “Perhaps you will wish to read the contents of this packet. I overheard the clerks discussing the subject before it was sealed.”

Accordingly, Mullins slit open the wrapper. Scanning the document inside, he saw he was to take command of HMS Aphrodite, a ship-sloop of twenty-two guns, now moored in the ‘Pool’. Astonished, he turned to Harden to learn what he might know about the matter.

The officer reported that Aphrodite was the former French national ship Jeune Fille, captured earlier in the year and refurbished as a sloop-of-war.

“My brig took her off Brest.” Mullins informed Harden. “I never thought they would give her to me. I wonder why the name change?”

“Oh, I suspect it was one of the Lords, who was concerned what a British crew might do with the original French name. Our men are used to the Roman and Greek deity names many of our ships have.”

“Well, Lieutenant Harden, I do thank you for informing me of the new situation. The blue devils had a firm hold of me when I thought I was surplus to the Navy’s needs. Now I must see if I can persuade my man to find a hired carriage to take me down to the Pool.”

“Sir, allow me to offer you the use of my cart. It is rather on the humble side, I must admit, but my mare will get us there, eventually.”

The mare was elderly and slow, but she was had little to say about the added trip in the light rain to the harbor. The chaise did have a top, of sorts, that did little to keep out the rain. Both were drenched, by the time they arrived.

Now, just how in the devil was he to get out to his ship? Having captured her months before, he recognized her just off shore, half a mile away. In the gathering dusk and the relentless spring rain, he wondered if a member of the anchor watch would deign to glance at the signal tower on shore. The only other option was to hire a boat to take him out, and all of the boatmen were invisible, taking refuge from the rain in nearby pubs, no doubt. Reading his mind, Harden suggested trying a run-down establishment behind a warehouse. There was an overhang under which the horse made her way to as if she was accustomed to visiting here often.

Harden turned to face Mullen. “Sir, many of the boatmen come here when the weather is too foul for them to ply their trade. I come here often and most of the boatmen know me. If you wish, I could go inside and attempt to engage a boat to take you out to Aphrodite. My thoughts are, one of them might be more agreeable toward a familiar face rather than to a stranger.”

“That is a capital idea Mister Harden. You would indeed oblige me if you would do so. Would you care to accompany me out to the ship? I have no idea of what may be available to me aboard, but at least we may get a respite from the rain.”

“Very well sir. I shall do my best to engage a boat. We will, I am sure, have to pay a premium, in view of the weather. Would there be a limit as to what I may offer the boatmen?

“I will leave the matter in your hands Mister Harden. There is one other matter in which you can assist me, if you will.”

Mullen opened his purse and checked the contents. There were still a satisfying number of the heavy guineas, his father had furnished.

Handing the officer a few coins, he informed him, “I intend to read myself in and sleep aboard the ship tonight. I will need some food and drink. Could you ask the publican in the pub if he could supply us with something for supper and breakfast, as well as a few bottles of wine? I will visit a chandler tomorrow, but will need a few things tonight.”

Harden came from the pub with a pair of burly men, one of them carrying a satisfactorily heavy crate of provisions. The publican followed, coming up to Mullins in the chaise, and assured him he was prepared to send such provisions to his ship as he might require. As they settled into the wherry, a thought came to Mullins.

“Mister Harden, I am dreadfully sorry, but I completely forgot about your position as an Admiralty messenger. If this excursion aboard my ship should prove inconvenient for you, please feel free to return to your duty.”

“Sir, I have not been aboard a King’s ship since my injury fifteen years ago. I was happy to receive your invitation. Any messages needing to be delivered tomorrow may be carried by someone else.”

There was consternation aboard HMS Aphrodite as the boat hooked on and Captain Mullins began his climb up the side. The tipsy carpenter was the one who challenged the boat, and there was a hurried rush of men from below. Not many, it was evident, apparently not over a dozen. The most senior was the carpenter. The cook stumped his way forward on his wooden leg and here was a gunner’s mate. The remainder were seamen.

The carpenter, introducing himself as Reed, stood in the rain with his hat in his hands, apologizing for the lapse. “Sir, we had no idea you were coming aboard tonight, Lieutenant Drayer said it would be another week or more before you came.”

Mullins replied, “And just who might this Lieutenant Drayer be, when he is aboard?”

“Sir, Lieutenant Drayer is the first officer. He said since you were not going to be here, he was going to visit a friend for a few days. He left me in charge sir.”

“I take it these men present are all the crew we have aboard at present?”

“Aye sir, save for Jim Sanders, able seaman. He took a little poorly from drink two days ago and fell down the forward hatch. Broke his leg. Since we do not have a surgeon, the cook has been caring for him. I got word from shore today the Impress Service has a draft of twenty men to send aboard. They tell me an officer has to sign for ‘em, though.”

“Mister Reed, assuming it has not left yet, there may be a shore boat alongside with a crate that needs to be sent up. Would you see to it? Now, I would like to see my cabin, if you please.”

Mullins and a bemused Lieutenant Harden were led aft and shown into the cabin. It was evident that the cabin had been used as someone’s quarters very recently. Clothing and personal items were strewn about haphazardly.

As Mister Reed was opening the crate of provisions, Mullins asked him to have all of the gear removed at once. Seeing a finely crafted table, probably the property of the former French captain, Harden began placing the contents of the ox on it. They had a half dozen bottles of a rough country red wine, a roast goose and a large loaf of fresh bread.

The cleaning crew having departed, Mullins quipped, “At least we aren’t going to starve tonight. Have you ever seen such a disastrous beginning of a commission?”

Harden discreetly remarked, “The absence of the first officer seems strange. It would not have been permitted in the days when I served on active service.”

“And it will not be permitted now, Mister Harden.”

A thought came unbidden into Mullin’s head. “Pardon me for intruding into your personal business, Mister Harder, but are you quite happy with your situation these days?”

“I cannot say I am happy Captain, but I am making my living and keeping the wolf from the door.”

“Could you tell me how you came to be in your present predicament Mister Harden?”

“As to that, in 1782, I was second officer on a sixth-rate frigate, patrolling off the Virginia coast. The rising of the sun one morning showed us a little brig-rigged privateer right ahead of us.”

“She was slow and we came right up on her quarter. Our captain gave her a gun to convince her to surrender, but the privateer would have none of that. She fired a single gun at us. The ball took off my leg.”

“I was nearly healed when we returned home and I was then discharged. I could not get another ship and was denied half-pay since I was not considered fit for duty. I had been lucky with prize money the last few years so I purchased a collier and sailed her for years on the coastal trade. I made a living and was satisfied until my collier was taken in 1783 when war was declared.”

“The French returned me, but having no way to make a living, I found myself in desperate straits. A friend mentioned me to Lord Spencer, who gave me this position as a messenger. Although, I am not on naval service, the First Lord did indulge me and allowed me to wear my old naval uniform when delivering messages.”

Captain Mullins mulled over the information as he dined on his roast goose and fresh bread. Finally he ventured, “While you were sailing your own collier, you had no difficulty handling her with one leg?”

“No sir, although I was not handy in the rigging, I always kept a youngster to skip around in the tops for me.”

“Mister Harden, you have seen me in an embarrassing position. I cannot allow this situation with my absent first officer to continue. Therefore, I intend to call on the port admiral tomorrow and request his permission to take you on as my first officer, in the place of the absent Mister Drayer. What are your thoughts about this?”

“Sir, I would be most happy to serve as your first officer. What about the Navy though? Will they allow you to take a one-legged officer aboard your ship? And what about myself? It has been years since I have served aboard a King’s ship.”

“For one thing, Mister Harden, I do not intend to volunteer the information that you have only one leg. As for your other concern, you commanded your own ship for years after you were injured. If your concern is mobility, I will find you an agile midshipman who will be able to jump around on your behalf all you might want. At the moment, I think our best course of action will be to get myself read in.

By Virtue of the Power and Authority to us given We do hereby constitute and appoint you Commander of His Majesty's Ship the Aphrodite, willing and requiring you forthwith to go on board and take upon you the Charge and Command of Commander in her accordingly. Strictly Charging and Commanding all the Officers and Company belonging to the said ship subordinate to you to behave themselves jointly and severally in their respective Employments with all the Respect and Obedience unto you their said Commander; And you likewise to observe and execute as well the General printed Instructions as what Orders and Directions you shall from time to time receive from your superior Officers for His Majesty's service. Hereof nor you nor any of you may fail as you will answer to the contrary at your peril. And for so doing this shall be your Warrant. Given under our hands and the Seal of the Office Admiralty this Fifteenth day of May, 1786 in the Twenty-sixth Year of His Majesty's Reign.

It was a sparse crew that were gathered on deck that evening to hear their new first officer read the order that made Charles Alfred Mullins their new captain. There had been an inordinate amount of confusion, but Mullins knew that now that he was aboard and in command, he could control matters.

For the immediate future, he had a quantity of correspondence to generate, with no clerk available.

He had to explain why he was replacing his first officer, request the promised quota of hands released by the Impress Service, indent for needed provisions and supplies and inquire about his missing warrant officers.

Harden sat in the only chair with a board across his knees, drafting his share of the documents, while an upended crate served as Mullin’s seat at his desk.

Both stood a watch that night, and Mullins stood wearily by the helm on the next morning. A seaman challenged an approaching boat, which proved to be some of the missing officers. Another lieutenant was in the sternsheets and several men in plain blue coats accompanied him. It appeared they now had their missing warrant officers.

Sailing Master Lafferty, Their assistant surgeon, Mister Bellinger, Master Gunner Jones and the new sailmaker, Ben Goodwin all filed aft and doffed their hats to their captain.

Mister Weyland, their new second officer, was immediately put to work when the quota from the Impress Service arrived. Both Weyland and Mullins were pleasantly surprised when these twenty men proved to be experienced seamen taken from incoming merchant ships, rather than prisoners released from county gaols.

Of course, there was the expected outrage voiced from the individual seamen as well as the usual litany of reasons why each seaman could not be expected to sail, but many of the catch had formerly served with the Royal Navy at some point and knew well any man that earned his bread at sea must expect to be called to serve.

By the evening grog ration, the ship was coming together. That afternoon, Marine Sergeant O’Donnel marched his men to the quay, and Aphrodite now had her Marines. Later, a shore boat closed on the ship, two oarsmen bending their oars at the strident orders of her passenger.

Challenged by the anchor watch, the passenger proved to be the missing lieutenant, Mister Drayer. Almost running up the battens, Drayer approached Mister Weyland who was serving as the officer of the watch and demanded to know who he was.

Harden, who had been alerted, had just came on deck and answered for Weyland.

“Sir, this is Mister Weyland, second officer of Aphrodite. I am Harden, first officer. Who might you be, sir?”

“Harden, I am first officer of this ship and have a commission. Who has appointed you to be first officer in my place?”

Ushered into the great cabin, Mullins answered Lieutenant Drayer. “That would be me, sir. I am Charles Mullins, captain of this ship. When I reported aboard, according to my orders, I found the quarterdeck vacant, with the carpenter in command. No one could explain where I might locate my first officer.”

“Accordingly, I had myself read in and placed Mister Harden, an officer with over ten years’ service, into that position. Since then, Mister Weyland has reported aboard and I have assigned him as second officer. I am afraid there is no longer a place for you on this ship, Mister Drayer. I suggest you report to the Admiralty and request a position on another ship.”

“Sir, I must protest this indignity. I was given Admiralty orders to this ship. It would be infamous to discharge me before I have even started.”

“Drayer, you are being discharged after you started. You came aboard my ship before I took command. You yourself accepted that command in my absence. When you left the ship, you in essence, abandoned her. We can handle this situation in two differing ways.”

“You may write a letter, resigning your position as first officer, right here at my desk. I will endorse that letter and you may take it with you to the Admiralty.

“Otherwise, I can simply charge you with deserting your post and ask the Marine at my door to take you into custody.”

“Would you care to have a moment to think this over?”

“No sir, I will not resign! I will fight this indignity!”

Mullins nodded and called for the Marine.

“Private Atkins, come here please. I need you.”

Atkins, fresh from the training depot, had no inkling of what he was required to do. His training thus far had not prepared him for much more than standing like a statue outside his captain’s door, and replying ‘Yes Sir’ to anything said to him. He had heard much of the conversation but did not really comprehend its meaning.

Captain Mullins assisted him. “Private, I want you to call for your superior and inform him this gentleman is under arrest and is to be taken into custody.”

It took a few seconds for the private’s brain to process these complex orders, but then he had it.

“Yes Sir!”

Shouting, “Corpril o’ the Guard, post number one,” he brought up his musket to the position of ‘Port Arms’ and stood watch over the prisoner. The diminutive Marine looked almost ferocious standing there with his fixed bayonet.

Drayer, taken aback by this new situation, panicked. His sword was by his side and he drew it, attempting to parry away the threatening weapon.

Marine Atkins, despite his paucity of training, had practiced bayonet drill by the hour at the training depot. With his bayonet being held in parry by Drayer’s blade, he instinctively brought his musket butt up into the officer’s chin. As the stricken officer fell to the deck with a ruined face, the Marine sergeant stormed into the great cabin with a file of Marines, almost filling the compartment.

Private Atkins, knowing he had royally screwed up, stood quivering there at the position of attention, knowing he would be fortunate if he received less than a thousand lashes for assaulting an officer.

Sergeant O’Donnel crashed to a halt, saluted his captain and reported. Mullins thanked him for coming promptly and ordered the sergeant to take Mister Drayer into custody and notify the surgeon.

Later, Mister Drayer, lashed to a carrying board was lowered into the launch and delivered ashore, accompanied by four Marines. Captain Mullins followed later in his gig to meet with Admiral Hornsby. Hornsby had been called from his rooms ashore to decide how the matter was to be handled.

“See here Mullins, was there no other way to bring this officer to heel? Once the press hears of this, there will be no end of speculation and gossip.”

“Sir, you have my full report as well as that of my first and second officers on the matter. Of course, we also have the ship’s log. I doubt if I could add any more information of significance.”

“You report he drew his sword before being struck by the Marine sentry. Just who was he threatening, you or the sentry?”

“Sir, I had offered Drayer the option of resigning his position of first lieutenant of Aphrodite, informing him if he refused I would charge him of abandoning his position in my absence. Upon his refusal, I ordered Private Atkins, the sentry at my door, to call his superior and to place Lieutenant Drayer in custody. At that point, Drayer drew his sword and attempted to drive Atkins away. Atkins then struck Drayer once with his musket butt.”

Admiral Hornsby shook his head. “Captain Mullins, I am not enthused of your handling of this situation, but I will certainly not hold the Marine responsible for Drayer’s injury. The lieutenant must bear much of the responsibility for his own misfortune. Drayer is to remain in custody, awaiting court martial on the charges of dereliction of duty and assault upon the Marine sentry. He will have full access to needed medical attention “

“You Captain Mullins, will be required to appear at his court martial and you will not leave the London area until after this proceeding is adjudicated.”

Mullins was devastated at the admiral’s words. There was the very real chance this could cost him his command should the trial drag on for any protracted period. In the meantime, his duties continued aboard ship and men continued to come aboard a few at a time. They did get an influx of prisoners who had accepted the Navy over lengthy terms in gaol. Even a few sentenced to transportation were sent aboard.

Among the other people reporting aboard his ship, were some youths, midshipmen looking for a berth. These had not actually been assigned to the ship, they were merely looking for a position, any position, some of them.

Some of them, after being sent ashore from their previous, were without funds and had no ability to sustain themselves. These had come aboard hoping to be able to live in the gunroom until such time as the ship sailed or they found other employment.

Mullins should have looked among his father’s important friends, to determine if any had a son they wished to send to sea. The family of any lad he took aboard as midshipman would owe him favors, which might be repaid by influence they might have. This was an accepted method to gain influence, one often used by naval captains to better themselves.

Mullins had no stomach to beg for his midshipmen, especially since these would likely be boys with absolutely no knowledge of the sea. Useless, until completing at least one commission at sea. He needed experienced young men, people who could serve as useful petty officers until perhaps called to the quarterdeck in time of need.

These lads coming aboard searching for berths were generally those who had no influential relative behind them. These had been put ashore after a commission or two and told to find their own way. Busy with his own affairs, Mullins had not actually given the matter any thought, merely allowing the lads to berth in the gunroom, until the ship sailed. With the expected sailing date looming closer, Mullins was feeling pressure from some department heads to sign on a few useful mids.

He was reluctant to put any of them on the books since there was the likelihood he would have to leave the ship while he awaited appearing before the coming court martial. A new captain might very well have his own people to bring on board.

Now though, it seemed he was going to have to make a decision soon. He had learned from his surgeon that Mister Drayer’s condition had deteriorated. He had developed a gangrenous infection to the face and a series of procedures had been performed attempting to remove them. With a real threat to the officer’s life, the court martial was on an indefinite hold, and now word had come that matters were heating up in the Med and Aphrodite would soon be needed.

With no impending court martial looming, Mullins was now free to prepare to sail. Remembering that he had a half dozen young men cluttering up his gun room who might be better employed doing useful work about the ship, he had them all called aft.

He talked with them for an hour, getting an idea of their prior experience. He was well aware that he could expect nothing from any of their patrons nor would he receive any benefits should he take any of them aboard. One young man, Wilcox had the most service. Appearing to be in his twenties, Wilcox had been at sea since the age off thirteen. The youngest was Benson, a boy of twelve. His former ship had paid off and his mother brought him to Aphrodite, saying she could not feed the lad. In the end, Mullins put all of them on the books, although he took Benson as captain’s servant rather than midshipman.

Then it was time to sail for the Med. Never eager to make the long passage down the Thames to sea by himself, Mullins took on a good pilot who could see them to the Channel.

As the ship made her slow way down the crowded river channel, he regarded the money spent on the pilot a good investment, especially after first meeting a swarm of fishing boats coming up, each certain of his own right-of-way. Clear of these, they met a third rate, also bound for the Pool of London, coming up the center of a narrow channel, with a Thames sailing barge blocking the slight passageway to starboard, her pilot nattering with a woman in a skiff alongside.

Aphrodite’s plot calmly inserted the ship into the narrow gap between the liner and the barge, evoking vehement protests from each. When it became apparent the gap was slightly less than the breadth of Aphrodite, he put the starboard side of his beakhead up against that of the sailing barge and pushed her out of the way, to a chorus of outraged epithets.

As they passed the stern of the battle-ship, her captain leaned over her taff-rail and shouted, “You try that with me, I’ll sink you right here in the channel!”