“By all means Admiral, pray continue.”
“Thank you Sir.” He turned to face Merriman. “We are giving you a new sloop of war presently completing at Chatham, the Aphrodite. Damn silly name if you ask me but somebody must like it.”
“Your duty will be to take station in the Irish Sea with full authority from the Admiralty to stop and search any vessel within our waters which you may perceive to be of a dubious nature. You will have to be diplomatic with foreigners and aware of the consequences should you ruffle the wrong feathers, but we do want you to ruffle a few to see what can be stirred up in the murky pool up there” said he, mixing his metaphors.
“Your ship is, in effect, seconded to the Revenue service so you’ll not be entirely a free agent. You’ll cruise round, appearing at places apparently at random but in accordance with a general plan conceived by Mr. Grahame here, who will sail with you. You must be prepared to act in concert with him, although of course the ship is your responsibility. The main purpose is to find and dispose of these villains as quickly as possible. Have you any questions?”
“Yes Sir. I’m sure Mr. Grahame will be able to answer any I may have about his plan of action, on our voyage round to the Irish Sea, but do I understand correctly that my new command is ready for sea or is a crew still to be found?”
“All should be ready when you arrive dockside Lieutenant. Your commission will be given to you by one of my clerks on your way out and your written orders will arrive at the ship soon after you. You will put to sea as soon as they arrive and start fishing for these damned shadows that his Lordship calls them.”
He smiled briefly, “You may be surprised by what you will find aboard when you reach your ship Lieutenant. Oh, and get a new uniform sorted out as soon as you can that one is not good enough.”
As Merriman rose to his feet he knew he was a lucky man. With so many ships still out of commission and many officers on half pay, here he was, promoted and with a brand new ship to command. Post rank was one step nearer. “Thank you Sir, for the confidence you have placed in me, and you My Lord, for your interest.”
“Say no more Lieutenant, let us hope that you will be able to deal with the matter expeditiously.” Brief handshakes and Merriman was left alone with Mr. Grahame.
As they left the Admiralty, Merriman clutching his papers and his mind in a whirl, the Treasury man spoke for the first time, “I have a carriage waiting, I suggest we lose no time. First we’ll call on the naval outfitter to have you measured for a new uniform which will have to be sent to your home; I have some Treasury business to attend to and some people to see, so I think it will be dawn before we join your ship.”
Chapter 11: A new Command
In the cold light of dawn the dockside at Chatham was a scene of chaos, or so it would appear to the uninformed eye, but beneath the bustle Merriman could see the organization of one of England’s greatest naval ports. Even at that early hour the water was alive with boats of every kind, barges, wherries and flats all loaded with barrels, bales, cordage, timber, canvas, sacks of ships biscuit, barrels of salt beef and salt pork and all the hundreds and thousands of items needed to provision the King’s ships. There were buoy boats, hire boats and numerous ship’s boats rowed vigorously between the moored and anchored ships and the dockside.
Ashore there was a bewildering array of dockyard buildings, ropewalks, sail lofts, cooperages, smithies, saw pits, carpenters shops and the like. There were dry stores for canvas, rope, tar, oil, rigging blocks and cannon, with a continuous flow of porters, wagons and worried looking clerks carrying papers and files. The Victualling Board had its own stores for ships supplies of food, bread, biscuit and rum and even a brewery from which issued a tantalising aroma of hops which almost but not quite overpowered the stench from the slaughterhouse.
Seeing Merriman and Grahame standing there, a young midshipman seated in a ship’s boat, got to his feet and climbed the worn, weed covered stone steps and approached, eyeing Merriman and his companion dubiously.
“I am expecting a Lieutenant Merriman, Commander of the Aphrodite and another gentleman. Lieutenant, do you know if he is here Sir?”
“In spite of the uniform I am Lieutenant Merriman, Mr----?”
“Oakley, Sir, Midshipman Oakley. With your permission Sir.” He turned away and called to the boats crew, “Up here four of you and get the officer’s baggage into the boat, smartly now.”
Seated in the sternsheets beside the young Mr. Oakley, Merriman carefully watched the oarsmen, trying to gain some impression of the crew. Some of them stole guarded glances at him, trying on their part to gain some impression of the man who would have the power of life and death over them. As the boat crossed the choppy waters of the harbour, spray splashed over the bows causing Mr Grahame to utter a smothered oath as he got wet.
“There she is Sir,” said Oakley, pointing to where a small ship was just coming into view from behind a huge ninety gun, second rate ship of the line.
Merriman looked at his new command with a keen eye. She was one of the new breed of sloop, with three masts instead of the two as on his last ship Conflict, flush decked and of about four hundred and twenty tons. A small version of a frigate really, with a single row of closed gunports hiding what were doubtless nine-pounders. Fore and main masts rigged with square sails and the mizzen rigged fore and aft.
She floated almost level but to Merriman’s critical eye it looked as though she would be better down by the stern a little more, but there would be time to change things when he knew how she handled, a new ship with no growth of weed under her to slow her down and her lower hull well protected by new copper sheathing as most warships were by then. “By God, she’ll be a flyer this one,” he thought to himself.
As the boat approached the Aphrodite he saw the bustle of movement on deck as their arrival was noted, the blue and white of the officers and surprisingly, red coats. Red coats surely meant marines which was strange, as a sloop’s complement of perhaps one hundred and thirty men did not usually include marines.
“Oars” called Oakley as the boat moved smoothly alongside and the bowman prepared to catch the chains with his boathook.. The oars moved dripping to the vertical and Merriman swiftly climbed aboard his ship. He was a little taken aback to receive the full ceremonial welcome reserved for a captain joining his ship, the boatswain’s whistle and the drawn swords of the officers were expected, but the line of marines presenting arms in a cloud of dusty pipeclay was not.
“Welcome aboard Sir” said the officer immediately in front of him. “I am John Jeavons your first Lieutenant. May I present Mr. Laing, your second, Sir, and your third, Lieutenant Andrews?”
“I know this officer well enough, I am surprised to see you here though Mr. Andrews. I trust your shoulder has fully healed?”
Andrews was grinning all over his face, “Yes Sir, completely, it’s good to see you again Sir.”
“These other gentlemen are Lieutenant St. James in command of the marine detachment Sir, Mr. Cuthbert the sailing master and the surgeon Mr. McBride,” continued the first Lieutenant. “Mr. Oakley you have met and this is Mr. Shrigley our other Midshipman.”
“Glad to meet you gentlemen, I hope to get to know you all better in due course. This is Mr. Grahame who will be sailing with us. And now ----,” he drew from his pocket his commission which every captain joining his ship for the first time had to read aloud to confirm his status. It commenced with the usual flowery verbiage of such Admiralty documents, going on to say ‘You are required and commanded to take upon yourself the command of His Majesty’s Ship Aphrodite and all the ship’s company.’ There was much more and when he had finished it, Merriman was indisputably the Captain, answerable only to God and the Admiralty. To some of the lowly seamen he probably was God, having the power to flog them or hang them as he felt the need.
Merriman turned to the First Lieutenant, “Mr. Jeavons, is the ship ready for sea in all respects?”
“We are still a few han
ds short Sir, but in general I’m pleased with what we have and the Warrant Officers, gunner, carpenter, bos’n and their mates are all experienced hands. The last few barrels of water are coming aboard now Sir, but we still need to load powder and shot down the estuary.” For obvious reasons of safety, explosives were not brought aboard in the crowded confines of the harbour.
“Very good Mr Jeavons, we shall be leaving as soon as my orders arrive.”
“I think they are already here Sir, I signed for a package with the Admiralty seal on it not an hour past and put it in your cabin.”
“Show me, immediately” said Merriman and followed the first Lieutenant below. Bending low he managed to avoid crashing his head on the deck beams as Jeavons opened a door and revealed the spartan quarters which were to be his. The dockyard had provided the absolute minimum required, a desk, a table, some uncomfortable looking chairs, a small sideboard and a swinging cot.. The smell of raw, newly sawn timber pervaded the air, together with the usual shipboard smells of tar and paint. There was a small skylight in the deckhead and Merriman found that he could just stand upright beneath it. The Admiralty package was lying on the desk.
“Thank you Mr. Jeavons, prepare to leave for the powder hulks at once. Oh, and I’m sorry but I think you will have to relinquish your cabin to Mr. Grahame.”
“Aye-aye Sir”, said Jeavons gloomily, knowing that he would have to move everybody else round as a result. “May I ask who Mr. Grahame is, Sir?”
“No, you may not. I’ll tell you all that you will need to know in due course.” Conscious that he sounded rather pompous he relented a little. “I’m sorry, but all I can say is that Mr. Grahame is very important to the success of the mission we are on.”
“Yes Sir, I see Sir.”
“You don’t see at all Lieutenant, but you will, I assure you.”
“Very good Sir. I’ll ask Lieutenant St. James to post a marine sentry at your door.”
“Belay that for now, we’ll sort it out later,” said Merriman, wondering again why the marines were aboard.
Merriman sat at the desk to open the package, savouring for a moment to himself the superscription “James Abel Merriman – Master and Commander”. A quick scan of the papers showed that the contents merely confirmed his verbal orders received at the Admiralty.
He pondered for a while, gently tugging on his ear lobe which was an unconscious habit he had when thinking. His other hand squeezing the rag ball which had become almost a part of him. The Admiralty had certainly done him proud. A new ship, almost a full crew and even Mr Andrews as third Lieutenant. Lord Stevenage must have had a hand in that too. And why a marine Lieutenant? Marines were unusual on such a small ship and then only with a sergeant in command. That again was something out of the ordinary, and instead of the expected master’s mate, the Admiralty had even given him a Sailing Master, not usual in a ship commanded by less than a post-captain All rather intriguing. He locked his orders in the desk drawer and went on deck to inspect his new command.
Chapter 12: Duties of the ship Aphrodite
Three days later the Aphrodite was thrashing down the English Channel, close-hauled on the port tack under a grey cloudy sky. As Merriman had thought, she was a flyer, but probably would do better with a few changes he had in mind. Since leaving Chatham he had worked the officers and crew hard to settle them down into a cohesive whole. The watchkeeping bill needed careful drafting to ensure that the few landlubbers and the less experienced men were spread out fairly between the watches, That most of the crew were experienced men helped enormously, and all the Warrant Officers seemed to know their jobs.
Merriman had inspected the ship in every detail from the new figurehead, a well carved, half draped and rather erotic female figure representing the goddess Aphrodite, to the magazine and storerooms, “keel to truck” as the saying went, and he was beginning to remember the names of the officers, warrant officers and some of the crew especially the gunner, Mr. Hodges. That worthy was a small man whose eyes lit with pleasure when talking about his new charges. He had dragged off his woollen cap to speak with his captain, revealing a bald pate surrounded by a bushy fringe of grey hair.
“Almost new nine pounders, Sir, and we’ve been given two ‘Smashers’ as well as two bow chasers, twenty-five pounders at that Sir. One of the nine pounders will need some attention, a bush in the touch-hole Sir, but I’ll have it right in no time. And I’ve checked the scantlings Sir, they have all been strengthened to take the strain of firing the bigger guns.”
The guns he referred to, colloquially known as ‘Smashers’, were carronades, short barrelled and light but firing a heavy sixty-eight pound shot. Absolutely devastating at close range they were formidable weapons and were placed one a side amidships. In addition the ship was armed with six small swivel guns for close quarter work.
Aphrodite was well armed which caused Merriman to wonder anew about what his ship would be called upon to do. The ‘Smashers’ and the twenty-five pounders were unusual in a ship of that size, and those and the marines aboard must be the surprise mentioned by Admiral Edwards.
Merriman paced up and down on the weather side of the quarterdeck. The other officers, and crew whose duties kept them there, were very properly keeping to their own side in the time honoured tradition. Small groups of seamen were working on the standing rigging under the keen supervision of the bos’n and his mates. The new cordage had to be checked regularly for stretching and any slack taken up, but care had to be taken not to over-tighten it.
Forr’ard, Mr Laing was instructing seamen on the use of the heavy sea service flintlock musket with which it was expected that at least three quarters of the crew should be reasonably proficient, although they would rely more on the cutlass, boarding axe and pike if it came to close quarter fighting. The sea service musket was based on the army’s Brown Bess but with wooden ramrods and blackened metalwork to prevent corrosion by the sea air. It was a hopelessly inaccurate weapon at anything but short range although some men, with regular practice might hit the target with more frequency than usual.
Undoubtedly speculation was rife throughout the ship about what sort of Captain he would be and the officers would be squeezing every bit of information about him from Lieutenant Andrews. As yet he had been too busy to speak more than briefly to the officers other than concerning the ship. That must change, he had kept them in the dark for long enough. It would be good to entertain them to dinner but due to the haste in coming aboard he had nothing other than ship’s fare to offer them. No wine or delicacies of any kind. He resolved to change that as soon as he could.
Evidently Mr. Grahame was not a good sailor. Once the Aphrodite left the sheltered waters of the Thames estuary and had begun to pitch and roll, he had turned a peculiar shade of green and bolted below to his cabin. His only response to suggestions of food and drink was a feeble groan and the expressed desire to be left to die in peace.
Grahame had not yet confided his plans to him, so Merriman could not make any plans himself and so perforce must concentrate on working up the ship to the highest peak of efficiency that he could in the short time available. The crew was settling down well although there were one or two misfits and there was a bos’n’s mate who was a little too free with the use of a rope’s end on the backside of any laggard.
Suddenly making a decision, Merriman turned to the first Lieutenant who was standing not six feet away studiously ignoring his Captain.
“Mr. Jeavons, I would be pleased if you and Mr. St. James, Mr. McBride and Mr. Cuthbert and one of the Midshipmen would join me for dinner this evening. I don’t think we can squeeze more into the cabin. Unfortunately, due to the haste with which I came aboard I’ve no extra stores and can only offer you ship’s fare.”
“That’s kind of you Sir. Thank you, I look forward to it. As the ship was freshly victualled only a few days ago the food is not too bad. If I may presume Sir, the officers have a modest supply of wine and we’d be happy to provide a few bottles and pe
rhaps a chicken.” There was a chicken coop in the lee of the bulwarks containing half a dozen noisy hens belonging to the officers.
“Excellent Mr Jeavons, thank you, but you must allow me to replace them at the earliest opportunity. Now, I must take a look at our passenger. My compliments to the Master and I wish to see him in my cabin in ten minutes.”
At this period, most naval ships except the smallest, carried a sailing master, an experienced navigator and seaman who was responsible for sailing and navigating the ship. He was under the captain’s command for fighting the ship, but it would be a foolish officer who disagreed with him concerning matters of wind and wave.
The Master knocked on the door of his captain’s cabin and entered, his hat under his arm. He was a tall man with grey hair and a permanent stoop, his face bearing the lines etched on it by the wind, sun and salt spray of his years at sea. Merriman regarded him gravely for a moment.
“Sit down Mr. Cuthbert, I need to know more about you. I see from the ship’s muster book that you have been warranted for ten years and Master’s mate for ten before that so I don’t doubt your competence. What I do need to know is if you have experience of the Irish sea.”
The Master looked at Merriman carefully. He was used to being subordinate to younger men, but this one was younger than most he had served with and was an unknown quantity. True, he had handled the ship well enough up until now, though he carried a bit more canvas at times than the master deemed prudent. So, they were going to the Irish Sea, were they, with winter coming on it would be cold and here he was hoping for the Mediterranean. Ah well, it’s a seaman’s life.
“I knows the Irish sea like the back of me ‘and Sir, born an’ raised in Cumberland I was and shipped out of Whitehaven. I haven’t been there for what, must be eight or nine years in a King’s ship but I knew most of the ports and harbours around there as a lad an’ I don’t reckon as ‘ow they’ll ‘ave changed much. I’ve got my personal notes and charts Sir, as up to date as I can make them.”
A Certain Threat (The Merriman Chronicles Book 1) Page 10
