Arthur Phillip

by Michael Pembroke

  From April 1798 Phillip made his home and his headquarters at Lymington, an old narrow-laned port west of Portsmouth. Isabella lived with him there. It was not far from Lyndhurst where he had farmed with Charlott 30 years before. Timber from the New Forest came to the port at Lymington before being shipped along the coast to the dockyards at Portsmouth. Lymington was not quite Bath, but like Lyme Regis and many other south-coast seaside towns of the period, it had its own assembly rooms, sea-baths, theatre and circulating library. And the mail coach to London left the Angel Hotel in the High Street every afternoon. Phillip was often away, and despite all that Lymington had to offer, this does not appear to have been an entirely happy period for Isabella – at least from 1801. In March of that year Pitt went out of office and the new government commenced the negotiations that culminated in the Peace of Amiens in March 1802. An interregnum in the hostilities with France followed until 1803 when the second stage of the long conflict erupted. As the peace discussions rolled on, the new administration disbanded the Sea Fencible service and closed down the signal stations. And the Admiralty, of which St Vincent was now the First Sea Lord, found other work for Phillip that required more and more time away from Lymington.

  In April 1801 Phillip was sent to inspect and report on the facilities for French and Spanish prisoners of war throughout Hampshire. Among other places, the prisoners were confined in ships and hospitals at Portsmouth, Porchester and Forton. Phillip reviewed the health and conditions of the prisoners, paying particular attention to the cleanliness of their living quarters, listening to their complaints and being alert for abuses by supervising officers, surgeons and contractors. In July, having duly reported on the prisoners of war, the Admiralty requested him to undertake a thorough inspection and review of the operation and effectiveness of the Impress Service.

  Phillip’s review of the Impress Service was an extensive undertaking, requiring lengthy and arduous travel. Accompanied by a secretary, he travelled by post chaise on a lengthy tour of the principal ports of England and Scotland, beginning in Scotland in August and then travelling south through Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, Norfolk and Suffolk. In September and October, he continued along England’s southern coast, visiting the port towns of Deal, Gosport, Southampton, Exmouth, Plymouth and Falmouth. In December 1801 he produced a comprehensive report. Isabella, it seems, did not find Phillip’s hard work and lengthy absences agreeable. During his travels, she wrote a letter to her husband that appears to have indicated that she was an unhappy wife. All marriages are secrets of course and we will never know but Phillip’s response dated 4 October 1801 reveals a distinct tension. He commenced by saying how truly sorry he was that Isabella persisted in groundless ideas ‘that your husband and all your friends are plotting against your happiness’. He told her that her letters were painful to read and he asked her no longer to write to him ‘unless you can write in a different language’. If she could do so, he said, he would be happy to hear from her in the following week when he expected to be at Appledore in Devon. But he repeated, ‘My Bel, you had better not write, than write letters filled with charges which only exist in your imagination.’ He concluded by informing her that, ‘Your friends still love you, and respect you, but you drive them from you, by your unjust suspicions.’

  By 1803 matters had only become worse – requiring more travel and resulting in more unhappiness. When the renewal of war became obvious at the beginning of 1803, and a Napoleon-inspired invasion of England once again became a threat, the Admiralty revived the Sea Fencibles and appointed Phillip to carry out inspections of the force along the south coast. From January he was back on the coaching roads of southern England inspecting the volunteer defenders along the coastline and reporting on their state of readiness to repel a French invasion. His unhappiness with Isabella continued. In April he wrote to her, again in the same vein, telling her ‘for God’s sake let me hear no more of doubts for which there is no reason’ and finishing his letter with a plea that would be almost comic if it were not so sad – ‘I see no reason for [the use of] the word afflicted at the conclusion of your letter, and if that is repeated, I shall think I have too good reason to conclude myself an afflicted husband. Think more justly my Dear Bel …’

  Whether truly afflicted or not, Phillip threw himself into his work and travelled ever more extensively. At the end of 1803, the Admiralty appointed him as Inspector of the whole of the Sea Fencible service, in addition to his role as Inspector of the Impress Service. This required constant travel. In days of bouncing coaches, rudimentary springs, wooden wheels and dirt roads, not to mention the constant changes of horses and the overnight stays at coaching inns, Phillip’s exertions were remarkable. Between December 1803 and February 1805, accompanied only by a secretary, he traversed the whole of the coast of England and as far north as Forfarshire on the east coast of Scotland. One historian expressed his incredulity at Phillip’s punishing schedule in these terms: ‘Fourteen months spent on a trip that covered almost the whole coast of England and part of Scotland; fourteen months, day after day in post chaises, accompanied only by a secretary; fourteen months contact with the seafaring men of England … such experience could have fallen to the lot of very few of his contemporaries.’ There was some overstatement in that description, as Phillip’s journeying was not continuous and he did have time out with Isabella in the village of Bathampton in the summer and some time with friends and colleagues in London. But it must certainly have been arduous.

  In fact, Phillip’s ceaseless travel seems to have been exactly the sort of thing that Charles Dickens had in mind when he wrote the vivid opening lines of his essay ‘Early Coaches’ in Sketches by Boz: ‘We have often wondered how many months’ incessant travelling in a post chaise it would take to kill a man; how many months of constant travelling in a succession of early coaches, an unfortunate mortal could endure.’ Despite the hardships, however, there was no realistic alternative to travel by post chaise, and a senior naval officer on official business, such as Phillip, would not have travelled any other way. When compared to the stagecoach, the post chaise was more gentlemanly. The stagecoach, a heavy, jolting vehicle, carried six inside passengers of every social status who got on and off at different places along the road. Like a modern bus, it arrived at inns at inconvenient hours and allowed insufficient time out for eating and sleeping. In a chaise you travelled all the way with only one other person, picked your own inns, and were sure of spending the nights in bed. Jane Austen’s Mr Bingley, a young man with a large fortune, travelled to Netherfield to inspect the property in a chaise and four. Journeying by chaise was faster and more fashionable, and discretion was assured. And the only practical difference between a chaise and a post chaise was that a post chaise was hired, using rented horses that were changed at posts or stations, and was generally painted yellow.

  Phillip’s work with the Sea Fencibles and the Impress Service was significant and his reports were thorough and comprehensive. A national coastal defence force of volunteers was an innovation at the time but its establishment and manning were affected by political considerations. Within the navy, the work was not generally highly regarded and Phillip could not have failed to be aware of the subtle disdain in which it was held. By 1803 St Vincent had apparently decided that the Sea Fencibles were of little use other than ‘to calm the fears of old ladies’. Nonetheless Phillip was instrumental in ensuring that the service operated efficiently. He made clear his concerns that too many suitable candidates for impressment avoided naval service by volunteering for the Sea Fencibles. At some ports, where there were no gun batteries or armed boats, he queried the utility of the Sea Fencibles at all. And he saw the need for a single command so as to avoid the inherent conflict between the Impress Service and the Sea Fencibles, who were competing for the same pool of men. This was a matter on which the Admiralty subsequently acted by adopting Phillip’s recommendations and amalgamating the two services. This no doubt gave him a degree of satisfaction but it was no conso
lation for the loss of opportunity to distinguish himself in a sea command. And it is not clear how much attention the Admiralty gave to the separate recommendations in Phillip’s December 1801 report for reform of the Impress Service. His proposals were principally concerned with changes in bookkeeping and reconciliation of accounts, the standardisation of expenses allowed to regulating captains and the maintenance of registers of exemptions. Despite Phillip’s proposals, the system continued, essentially unchanged, until the end of the Napoleonic Wars.

  It is clear that Phillip had now begun to consider his future, despite several last flickers of ambition. In 1803 he wrote to Lord Hobart, then Colonial Secretary, requesting that an arrangement be made to secure his pension rights for the benefit of Isabella after his death. He said that Dundas had promised this but ‘for various causes’ had quitted office without carrying out his promise. Phillip’s request appears to have fallen on deaf ears and the administration does not seem to have subsequently provided for Isabella. It would have been exceptional to do so, and after Phillip’s death his annual pension payment of £500 ceased to appear in the budget estimates for New South Wales.

  For a brief time, he appears to have entertained a slender hope of a further sea command but in truth Phillip was probably ambivalent. In July 1802 he asked to be appointed as Admiral in the Leeward Islands but nothing eventuated. Early the next year, St Vincent offered him command of the naval force based in Ireland but Phillip did not accept. As far as active service was concerned, he seems to have chosen his end point. By the middle of 1803, Phillip was preparing for life after Lymington and was inspecting homes in Bath and Clifton. The addresses in Bath which he proposed for Isabella’s consideration were among the most salubrious – Camden Place, the upper Crescent and Green Park Place. In Jane Austen’s Persuasion, Sir Walter Elliot chose Camden Place because it was ‘a lofty and dignified situation, such as becomes a man of consequence’. Pending a move to Bath, the village of Bathampton seems to have served as their new place of residence from 1804. Isabella moved there to be near members of the Chapman family. And in the summer months of that year Phillip spent some weeks with her before continuing his inspections.

  There were now no more offers of active service from the Admiralty and no further requests by Phillip. He continued his work with the Sea Fencibles and the Impress Service and even revived his once secret South American charts and lent them to the Hydrographic Office for copying. In the end, the final chapter closed suddenly at the end of 1804. In December, the Admiralty replaced him as Inspector of the eastern half of the country and in the following February Phillip was told to close his books and consider his appointment at an end.

  As was customary, Phillip’s rank and remuneration continued their stately progress by seniority. There was then no retired list for admirals except unofficially for those (yellow) admirals who were in disfavour or were old or incapable and unsuitable for active flag rank. All of the remaining admirals, from the most junior rear admiral of the blue onwards, moved steadily up through the ranks and squadrons – rear admiral of the blue, then of the white, then of the red; then vice admiral and full admiral of the same coloured squadrons. Progressively, over the following years, Phillip continued through all the gradations of rear and vice admiral until he reached full admiral of the blue in 1814 – more senior even than Nelson, who had died a vice admiral of the white. The nine ranks of admiral, known as ‘the last nine stages of increasing splendour’, were a reward for length of service. Progress was automatic, devoid of uncertainty or surprise, depending only on death and seniority. And with each step upwards, there was an incremental increase in the half pay to which the admiral became entitled.

  CHAPTER 14

  FINAL YEARS

  Phillip’s retirement and death, the suicide theory, his last will and testament and the memorials in Australia and England

  Retirement commenced at the beginning of 1805. The village of Bathampton, where Isabella resided during 1804, was two miles from Bath. The Chapman ladies – Jemima Powell and her niece and constant companion, Miss Fanny Chapman – lived in nearby Batheaston. They were among Isabella’s closest friends. And they were great admirers of Phillip. Indeed they seemed to rejoice in their happy association with such a distinguished admiral, and they delighted in the attention he gave to the young William Chapman, Fanny’s adored brother and Jemima’s nephew. A social circle existed around Jemima in which Phillip’s physician, Hutton Cooper, who was also part of the extended family, was a frequent participant. Phillip had consulted Hutton Cooper on his return from New South Wales and continued to receive treatment from him. Miss Fanny’s diary for the years 1807–12 includes frequent references to Hutton Cooper’s fashionable ways and spendthrift habits, and there are several amusing references to him being tipsy ‘but not unpleasantly so’.

  Jemima Powell and Hutton Cooper were both in the full swing of fashion. And for the time being each of them was relieved of the burdens and responsibilities of marriage. In Jemima Powell’s case, her husband, who later achieved infamy by killing Lord Falkland in a duel, had deserted her shortly after their marriage. Courtesy of her father, she was a woman of independent means who still managed to live in a liberal style – although not quite so well off as to be able to avoid always having to take the public stagecoach to London. Hutton Cooper on the other hand was briefly Jemima’s brother-in-law through his second marriage and was now a widower. He also lived well but the source of his means is less certain. One of his descendants called him ‘a rake and a fortune hunter’ but that may simply reflect some unreliable family prejudice. The same descendant said, ‘For some years he was equerry with I think the title of House Physician to William, Duke of Clarence.’ In fact, he was a medical practitioner who held Office as Groom of the Bed Chamber from 1812 and was also a Fellow of the Royal Society. Prince William, who would eventually succeed his brother as future King, favoured Bath and held an informal court there when in town. It seems that Jemima Powell, Hutton Cooper and their set, presumably including Phillip and Isabella, were on the periphery of the royal orbit. And Phillip was financially comfortable. As well as his pension of £500, his half pay as an admiral was now ‘£750 a year or more’. And he had a substantial investment in Old South Sea Annuities.

  In December 1806 Phillip and Isabella moved closer to the centre of Bath’s social life. Phillip, now aged 68, purchased the leasehold of a large and commodious house at No. 19 Bennett Street for £2200. This was a substantial acquisition. The property was just along from the Upper Assembly Rooms, a short walk to the Royal Crescent and even closer to the Circus. The building had all the features that a gentleman might require; even the design was by John Wood the Younger, who also designed the Royal Crescent. A contemporary description emphasised its central and fashionable situation near the Upper Assembly Rooms. Phillip and Isabella occupied three floors. The fine entrance hall and the breakfast and dining rooms were on the ground floor. A suite of three drawing rooms filled the first floor. And four bedrooms and dressing rooms were on the second floor. As was usual, the servants’ rooms were in the attic. Below ground level in the basement were the kitchen, scullery, pantry and cellar.

  Jemima Powell and Miss Fanny often visited Phillip and Isabella at Bennett Street. Fanny recorded in her letters and diaries their daily lives, their mutual comings and goings and the periods of illness that they shared or experienced. She and Jemima appear to have moved according to the seasons, fluctuating between their home at Batheaston and a town house in Milsom Street. The latter address was more convenient for visiting friends in Bath, especially in the winter months, and was only a few minutes’ walk from Phillip and Isabella. On the other hand, village life was bucolic in the spring and summer. Milsom Street was Bath’s most exclusive shopping precinct where Josiah Wedgwood had showrooms and the best haberdashers, milliners and dressmakers could be found. Miss Fanny, the diarist, reportedly watched the fashionable beau-monde stream by from ‘her upstairs parlour window at No. 19
Milsom Street, over the shop of Mr Vezey, the coach-builder’.

  Phillip, it appears, enjoyed wine and carriages – as a connoisseur of the former and devotee of the latter. In his new home he laid down some 30 dozen ‘singularly choice’ madeira, sherry and port which were ‘fifteen to thirty five years in bottle’. And he acquired a particularly smart and colourful carriage for getting around town. With Isabella beside him, he is said to have derived pleasure from ‘taking the Bath air in the barouche seat of his new, fashionable and well-built landaulet, with its bright yellow body lined with blue morocco squab, and with the uniformed Jehu in the dickey seat’. This is what you might have expected in Jane Austen’s image-conscious Bath – an emphasis on fashion, perhaps even ostentation, where the streets were filled with parties of ladies ‘in quest of pastry, millinery … or young men’, and where ownership of a landaulet was a singular mark of affluence. Jane Austen would have warmly approved of Bennett Street, at the ‘upper’ end of town, as a suitable location for someone of Phillip’s rank and status.

  Not surprisingly, Phillip continued to enjoy the company of fellow naval officers. According to one account, his home was ‘the constant resort of his naval friends’. Fanny Chapman records some of them – Admirals Christie, Dacres and Macdonald and Captain Munn, as well as John Hunter, Philip Gidley King and Henry Waterhouse from his New South Wales days. The predominant entertainment was tea and conversation, dinner and cards, perhaps coffee, certainly madeira and sherry. Isabella shopped with the ladies and visited her friends. She and Phillip sometimes strolled. In truth it would have been a promenade. Sometimes they took the pretty landaulet. Regularly, one suspects, they visited Marshall’s circulating library at No. 23 Milsom Street where there was more on offer than books. The pace was restrained. Like most Georgian gentlemen, Phillip possessed fine china, crystal and glassware and a ‘large and valuable quantity of silver’. He also had an extensive collection of books which he had inherited from Isabella’s father, Richard Whitehead. It was, by all accounts, a pleasant retirement.