Chapter 11: Almost a Gentleman

August 1801

Two days later, HMS LaPoule, 18, joined the squadron after having escorted four supply ships from Gibraltar, sailing under her proud new master and commander, Clyde Barker. The Navy Board commissioner in Gibraltar had purchased the prize as an unrated ship-sloop, and armed with Lord Keith’s recommendation, Dido’s former 1st lieutenant had been given the command and a barebones crew.

Naturally, this was cause for a major celebration when Clyde Barker came aboard to collect the remainder of his belongings. Captain D’Arcy himself hosted the dinner in the captain’s cabin, and Will was so happy for his old friend that he got royally drunk. Percy Montgomery was more than happy to be the permanent 1st lieutenant, and James Muir did not mind the command over the entire gun deck and advancing to the best cabin in the wardroom.

Two days after, Dido sailed for Malta with five supply ships to gather provisions for the army, but also for Lord Keith’s squadron. This time, the merchants had used the interim to stockpile what they needed, and it took a mere three days to load the supply ships to capacity. Will used the stay to buy as much wines as he could for wardrooms and mess halls, but also delicacies such as smoked mutton legs and hams. Captain D’Arcy was aware of Will’s lucrative deals, but he saw no fault in ingratiating the squadron and the Army command, as long as his own name was mentioned.

Indeed, when they arrived back off Fort Julien on the 28th of August, Will was able to sell the wines and smoked meats at a premium, for two days earlier, the French General Menou had offered the British terms for surrender of Alexandria, and the army command was in a mood to celebrate.

Only a few days later, the French surrender was a fact. Under the terms of the armistice, the French troops would be shipped back to French soil — Corsica — with their weapons and personal possessions. The French ships anchored at Alexandria, but also the loot collected by the French army, were to be left for the British troops and ships. It was a piece of luck that Dido was present when the French ships struck their (tri-)colours since this made her crew eligible for the prize monies.

During the next days, all available troop ships were hastily provisioned and the remnants of the French Armée d’Orient were ferried out to them for the passage to Ajaccio. It was a rather tight fit, but two days later, the twenty-eight transports weighed anchor and sailed for Corsica, escorted by two of Lord Keith’s frigates.

At the same time, Dido was despatched for Malta with seven victualling ships to gather as many provisions as possible for the victorious British troops. Of course, Will received extra orders to find foods and wines for the Army officers. He was almost sorry that this lucrative side business would end now, but then again, chances were that Dido would escort the ships with the British troops to their new destinations, likely in England. Once there, he would see Abigail again, perhaps even see his child already, and he and Percy would be able to turn their Egyptian artefact finds into money.

For one last time, Will worked out mutually profitable deals with his Maltese suppliers, and when Dido rejoined the fleet off Alexandria over three weeks later, he was already sixty-four pounds the richer from those dealings. Selling the mess provisions to the Army quartermasters added another twenty-eight pounds to his coffers, and he felt compelled to pay for Dido’s wardroom stores by himself.

Orders then came from Admiral Lord Keith to assemble the shipping for the British Army regiments’ return to England. Some units had suffered so badly that they needed time to recruit and train the much-needed replacements. Others were exhausted after the campaign in a hot climate and needed time to regain their strength. Only two regiments would be sent to Malta and to Gibraltar, respectively. It took almost two weeks to embark the troops and what was left of their equipment and horses, and then the huge convoy weighed anchor, protected by seven sail of the line and five frigates.

The higher Army officers of course berthed in the ships of the line as guests of the captains, but even lowly Dido hosted two lieutenant colonels, one major and their servants, much depleting cabin and wardroom stores during the passage. The wardroom was crowded so much that Will and Mister Matthews, the surgeon, berthed in the sickbay, whilst Peter Murdoch slung a hammock to sleep with his marines.

All this could not be helped, and their spirits were buoyed by the prospect of shore leave in England. Whilst the big ships with their senior passengers made a stop at Gibraltar for a week of celebrations and soirees, the frigates and the attached sloops continued their voyage and escorted the troop ships to English ports. Dido, together with twelve transports, reached Plymouth on the 13th of October and being the first ships to return to the port from the victorious Egyptian campaign, received a salute from the harbour fortifications and a vigorous tolling from the church bells.

However, the first news they received from the shore was that King George had ordered the cessation of hostilities between the United Kingdom and France, following the signing of preliminaries between the two warring parties. A final treaty was being negotiated, but in the meantime, an armistice was in place.

The response was mixed, of course. The voluntary crew members were worried about their future in the Navy, whilst the many pressed seamen were eagerly awaiting a release from the service. The officers, too, were varied in their reaction. The standing officers — sailing master, boatswain, gunner, purser and their mates — would stay on board if Dido was laid up in ordinary, and their pay would continue. The commissioned officers including the captain, however, would be put on half pay though, a strain for those without private means. Only the best connected or most senior lieutenants and captains could hope for employment in peace time.

Yet, Dido was still in commission, and there was a lot to do upon reaching the home port. The Army officers were put ashore and the displaced wardroom members reclaimed their berths. To his dismay, Will discovered that Major Gregory Adams, who had used Will’s puny cabin, had been a sloppy drunk. Mattress and blankets bore the stains and the stench of vomit and piss. John Somers, the wardroom steward, apologised profusely, but Will could not blame the man and simply ordered him to strip the cot and to wash down everything in lye soap whilst discarding mattress and blankets as total losses.

Captain D’Arcy, after hearing of the mess, gave Will shore leave for the nights for as long as they were anchored at Devonport. That was ample compensation for the loss of a straw mattress and a well used blanket in Will’s opinion, and the evening of October 16th saw him marching briskly along Ropers’ Lane until he reached the little side street, Coopers’ Alley, where his house stood. Even approaching it, he heard a faint baby’s cry, and he had to stop for a moment, being too overwhelmed by emotions. Abigail must have given birth already, and he was a father.

Taking a deep breath, he worked the doorknob and entered, looking into the startled face of his former housekeeper, Brewer.

“Lord have mercy!” The good woman exclaimed. “You scared me here for a moment, Mister Potter!”

“I’m sorry, Brewer. I didn’t know what to expect. Is Abigail all right?”

“Aye, Mister Potter, that she is. You’ve a son, Mister Potter, born five days ago. He’s strong and healthy, too, says Mister McSwain. Your dear wife had a bit of a hard time of it, with her so slim and the boy quite well developed, but she’s been recovering. We’re all taking good care o’her, and she’ll be up and about in a day or so.”

“Can I see her?”

“I don’t see why not, Mister Potter. It’ll cheer her up, if nothing else.”

“Thank you, Brewer, for your neighbourly help!”

“No thanks needed. We all like Mistress Potter. She’s in the bedchamber.”

Hesitantly, Will opened the door and peeked in. There lay Abigail, a little pale and tired looking, but with a wide smile on her lips.

“Oh, Will! You’re back!”

“Yes, and not a day too early it seems. We have a son, sweet Abby?”

Abigail smiled and nodded. “Yes, a fine boy. He’s drinking well and Mister McSwain says he’s right healthy and hale.”

“And you, Abby?”

She wagged her head. “It me took nigh on two days to give birth, and I’m still a bit exhausted. The midwife assured me that there was no undue bleeding, but I’m still a bit weak.”

“Brewer helped you, too?”

Abigail nodded. “Yes, she did, and so did Mister McSwain. Betty and Fanny kept the house in order and cooked, and Maggie Williams comes over once a day. Uncle Albert will visit on Sunday, and now you’re back, too. Will you stay in port?”

“We’ve no orders so far, and there’s some damage to repair. Chances are, Dido will be laid up in ordinary. That’ll mean that I’ll stay on board here in Devonport.” He lowered his voice. “I made us a lot of money, procuring victuals for the Army. I was even given a letter of recommendation signed by Lord Hutchinson himself and twenty-five guineas reward on top of it.”

Abigail smiled at him. “I am very proud of you, but do you think you may be there for the baptism on Sunday, ten days hence?”

“I’ll ask the Captain for leave. I’m sure he will grant it. Now, where is our son?”

Abigail smiled and rang a little bell. A few moments later, Betty Jones rushed in.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Mister Potter would like to see his son.”

Betty looked at Will with surprise, not having noticed him in her rush.

“Yes, Mistress, right away!”

Indeed, not three minutes later, Betty showed again, now carrying a small bundle of cloth and blankets from which a tiny, rosy face peeked out. Will took the bundle with infinite care looking down into his son’s face.

“Hey, there, young Master Potter!”

The infant started to cry a little and instinctively, Will rocked him gently, calming him a little.

“Are we cranky, young man?”

“He’s a sweet child, Mister Potter,” Betty defended her charge.

“No doubt, Betty. I’m sure you all look well after him.” He looked at Abigail. “How shall we name him? I never knew who my father was, nor my grandfathers. How about we name him Horace, after your brother? I can also ask my friend, Lieutenant Montgomery, to stand in as his godfather. Percy’s from a good family. That would make him Horace Percival Potter. Is that agreeable to you?”

Abigail gave him a tender smile. “That is so sweet of you, Will! I’d love for him to be named after Horace.”

“Horace Percival Potter then,” Will smiled. Still holding his son, he bent over and gave Abigail a tender kiss. “You make me very happy, my sweet wife.”

“Stop it, Will. You’ll make me cry, and I don’t want to cry, because I am so happy to have you back in time for the baptism. Let Betty take care of Horace, and then Fanny can prepare a supper for you.”

“Will you sup with me?”

“Mister McSwain told me to rest until tomorrow, but Fanny will bring me food to eat here.”

“I’ll stay with you then. We can both eat and talk.”

“That would be nice. I can finally cuddle with you again tonight, too.”

“Anything to please you, Abby!”

Thus, Will spent the evening with Abigail in their room, only venturing out once to speak with his neighbour, Samuel McSwain. He spent only a half hour with his friend, but he learned quite a lot. Not least of all, McSwain assured him that Abigail’s weakness was owed entirely to the overly long birth process, and that she was bound to recover to her former health within days. Will also learned more of the surprising news of a preliminary peace agreement between the United Kingdom and France. Will realised that his days in the Navy might be over once the old sixth-rate frigates would be stricken from the list.

Later, he discussed the news with Abigail, but they both expected to do well even in peace time. If worse came to worst and Dido was sent to the breakers — not a likely event — Will would receive his surety back — £ 1,000 — which together with his other assets would present him with opportunities to invest in commerce or even in property. He could also expect his share in the prize monies and the proceeds from the sale of his and Percy’s Egyptian artefacts. There was no real reason to worry about their future. With this comforting conclusion, the young couple slept well, with Will holding his wife in his arms.

Shortly after sunrise, Will returned to Dido. Whilst breaking the fast with the wardroom, he invited the officers to the baptism of his son and to the festive dinner afterwards. To his pleasant surprise, they all accepted eagerly, pending the captain’s approval. In a private moment after breakfast, he asked Percy if he would be willing to serve as godfather for little Horace. Percy blushed deeply and accepted the honour and obligation without hesitation.

With this out of the way, Will immersed himself in his duties, going through the remaining provisions with his steward. With a listing available, he asked for an interview with the captain. D’Arcy received him only a quarter hour later and bade him to speak up.

“Sir, I’ve prepared a list of supplies and provisions needed, but also the reckoning for the Commissioner’s office. I thought you might want to look at it before I submit it.”

“Yes, of course, Mister Potter. I don’t expect any irregularities, but it’s part of my duty after all. Have you heard the news about the preliminary peace agreement?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“We’ve no orders yet, but the port admiral advised me to take only limited provisions on board until orders are issued. He suspects that the sixth-rate frigates may be the first ships to be laid up.”

“I see, Sir. We can make do with what’s left over for three weeks, four in a pinch.”

“Excellent! By then, we shall know more. Another matter, though: I hear that you are now a father?”

“Yes, Sir. I am as of six days ago. A boy, Sir,” Will said proudly.

“My felicitations, Mister Potter! Will it be all right for me to attend the baptism, too?”

“Nothing would make us happier, Sir!” Will fairly gushed. To have the captain in attendance was bound to make Abigail happy and proud.

“Then it is settled. It’ll be at St. Andrew’s, I take it? The regular Sunday service?”

“Yes, Sir! I’ve yet to arrange for a place where we’ll have the dinner, but I hope to find a good inn. Will you attend alone, Sir?”

“Yes. So far, I have not found the right woman to marry, not that there was much opportunity. With peace in the offing, those things may also right themselves.”

“I understand, Sir. With your leave, Mister Montgomery and I will also try to find buyers for our Egyptian finds.”

“By all means, yes! It is in my interest, after all,” D’Arcy chuckled. That was true since he held a twenty per cent interest in the enterprise for allowing the transport in his ship.

“Thank you, Sir! When may I expect the reckoning back?”

“Tomorrow at the latest. I’d like this paperwork to be settled as soon as feasible. You may return to your duties now, Mister Potter.”

“Aye-aye, Sir!” Will responded and left the cabin quite satisfied with the outcome.

He spent some time with Alwyn then, explaining the need to live off the leftover stores for the next weeks and giving the man the necessary instructions. The cook was next on his list, also getting instructions for the next days and weeks, before, finally, Will spoke to Williamson, the cooper. The empty water casks were to be disassembled, and only a small number of the casks would be filled at weekly intervals. Dido would be riding high in the weeks to come, also because the captain had already ordered not to replace the expended ammunition.

He left the ship a little earlier than the day before and visited a number of inns in the vicinity, asking for the availability of their backrooms for the planned dinner. One of them, The Thistle, had a side room which could easily seat two dozen guests, and the innkeeper made Will a good offer for a four-course dinner. He agreed to Will providing the wines — there were still Maltese wines in Will’s private storage — and only insisted on serving his own ale. That was agreeable to Will, and the two men shook hands over the deal.

Coming home that evening, Will was greeted by the sight of Abigail sitting at the common room table and feeding little Horace.

“You’re late,” she smiled.

“I took off a little early, but I spent time trying to find a good inn for the dinner after Horace’s baptism.”

“Did you find one?”

“Yes, The Thistle inn. The innkeeper has a large side room for us and he’s willing to provide a fancy dinner with four courses.”

“Can we really afford that, Will?”

“We can and we must. Guess who’ll attend the baptism!”

“Your fellow officers?” Abigail guessed.

“Yes, they’ll all come, but Captain D’Arcy also invited himself.”

“Oh my! Is he as fancy as Captain Preble?”

“Think fancier! He’s a good captain though, and he’s been treating us politely, even under pressure.”

“Oh dear! We’ll have a fancy dinner! Guess who else will come?”

“Uncle Albert?”

“Of course, but we’ll also host Mister McSwain and his affianced bride, Jane Brewer, soon to be Mistress McSwain!”

“Really?”

“Really. Brewer — well, I should really call her Jane now — told me this afternoon. I think they’re a good match and Samuel has fancied her for a long time.”

“Well, at least that’ll be a dinner I won’t have to pay,” Will smiled. “The old rascal! That’s why he stole her from us.”

That made Abigail giggle a little. “I would not be so sure it was his idea alone.”

“Of course not. She’ll be Mistress McSwain and quite respectable as a surgeon’s wife.”

“I’m happy for them,” Abigail closed the issue.

“How’s your uncle coming along with the Widow Bolton and her son?”

“He visited a fortnight ago, and he was quite satisfied. She’s a good housekeeper, and the boy has the makings of a merchant’s helper.”

“I’m glad he could find somebody. Is he in good spirits then?”

“He seemed to be.”

For the first time in many months, Will had supper with his remaining boarders, Miss Faversham and Mister Balder. Whilst Miss Faversham seemed happy, Balder was in ill mood.

“We’ve a new commissioner. Mister Davenport was given the Portsmouth yard and we have Mister Croft now. He’s a nincompoop, if ever there was one, and he brought his brother-in-law as senior clerk. Adam Parry’s his name. He’s a worse dandy than even Croft, and he lords it over us. You had better bring your books in good order and in accord with your muster roll.”

“Oliver Jenkins wrote to me a few months back and warned me of the changes. Mister Montgomery, our Nº1, and I spent a day over the muster roll to make things match,” Will answered. “It’s a good thing I made like a robber buying provisions for the Army. It’ll be slim pickings with the victualling yard I fancy.”

“You better believe it, Will. Most of us have been pursers ourselves, so we know you men have to make a living, but not Croft or Parry. Worse, they hired two new clerks without seagoing experience, and I have to coddle them all day. Nincompoops, the lot of them!”

“I feel for you, Jeremy. I’ll turn in my reckoning tomorrow or the day after, depending on when the captain had a chance to go over it. Better get it behind me.”

After another night spent cuddling with Abigail and watching her feed the infant once, after midnight, Will had a hasty breakfast prepared by Fanny and returned to Dido. An hour later, the captain’s secretary, Oxenham, handed back the reckoning, assuring Will that Captain D’Arcy had no objections. After informing Percy, Will took a quarter boat to the landing to report to the commissioner’s office.

Mister Adam Parry was a rotund man in his middling forties with refined manners and wearing fashionable clothing. He received Will after some wait and went over the Victualling Book. Taking off his glasses, he looked at Will disapprovingly.

“You are very young, Mister Potter.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Yes, Sir.”

“You helped out here for some time, too?”

“Yes, Sir. My ship was up on the skids with no decision made by the Navy Board whether to have her repaired or broken up. Mister Davenport had an opening for a clerk.”

“I see. You are familiar with our accounting rules then?”

“Reasonably well, Sir.”

“Do you wish to correct those entries before we check them against the muster roll?”

Will shook his head. “No, Sir. Those entries are correct.”