Chapter 17: Surprises

September 1803

True to his words, Captain Deever left Dido in the afternoon of the next day, taking a post-packet to Portsmouth and leaving Percy Montgomery in charge of the refitting. His first act after taking over the temporary command was to order Will ashore.

Walking along Cooper’s Alley, Will could already hear a twofold harmony of crying infants, and upon entering his house, his ears were assaulted by the full volume. He found Abigail and Belle in the common room, both swaying their children and offering their breasts to them, whilst a mesmerised Horace stood watching them.

A beaming smile spread over Abigail’s face when she saw who had entered.

“Will!” she cried, her shout stupefying both children into a short silence. “You’re back!”

Three long steps brought him close to his wife, and he kissed her with the passion he felt in this moment.

“Oh, my Abby!” he marvelled. “When did you give birth, dearest?”

“It’s nigh on two weeks now, and our little Anna is growing already.”

That already answered Wills next question.

“She’ll have some growing to do if she wants to be as pretty as her mother.”

“Are you saying I am huge?”

“No! No, of course not. I ... Forget what I said. I’m overwhelmed. How was the birth?”

“Easier than Horace’s. Why don’t you greet your namesake, Master William Barker?”

Will turned to look at Belle who proudly showed what had to be her son.

“He’s only three days old. He’ll be less ugly in a week or two,” she laughed. “Clyde and I hope that you will serve as Godfather.”

“I ... That is ... I... “ Will stammered.

“He will,” Abigail giggled. “The poor man is flabbergasted. Come, sit down, Will,” she said patting the seat of the chair beside hers and ringing a small bell.

Their two maids rushed in after a few moments and, regarding their master, curtseyed with beaming smiles on their faces.

“Mister Potter needs a pint of ale, girls,” Abigail told them, and they rushed off immediately, only to return with a freshly drawn pint of ale, a slice of bread and some cheese.

“Thank you, girls,” Will told them. “Are you taking good care of Mistress Potter?”

“We do, Mister Potter,” Betty Jones said proudly, and Fanny nodded her assent.

“They are good girls, Will,” Abigail added with a smile. “They also look after Belle.”

“Yes, they do,” Belle confirmed.

“You’ve a lot to do now with cooking and laundry, right, girls?”

“Yes, Mister Potter, but we like our work, and we have it good here,” Betty said.

Will nodded. “I shan’t give you girls another raise, but I’ll assemble dowry chests for both of you over the next year or so, for when you’ll find sweethearts.”

Betty smiled widely hearing that, but her younger sister shook her head. “I’ve no use for boys, Mister Potter.”

“That may change once you’ll get older, Betty. At least you’ll have something for yourself. Now, where is my son?”

Horace was standing to the side, watching the strange man. Will realised that the eight months of separation had wiped out any memory Horace might have of him.

“Hey there, young man! Come to Papa, will you?”

Horace looked at Abigail first, but when she smiled and nodded, he toddled over to where Will sat. Lifting the boy up to his lap, Will gave him a smile.

“I’m your papa, Horace. Can you say “Papa”?”

“Pa?”

“Good enough, young man.” He pointed at the little girl in Abigail’s arm. “Who’s that?”

“An-na!” Horace beamed.

“Yes, that’s Anna, your sister. You’re a smart boy already. What’s your name then?”

“Horrass Podder!”

“Yes, Horace Potter is your name. Do you know my name, too?”

The little boy thought hard for a moment before he nodded. “Willam Podder!”

“Very good, Horace. What’s your mother’s name?”

“Mum!”

“Yes, she’s your mum, but what’s her name? How does Aunt Belle call her?”

“Abby?”

“Yes! She’s Abby, or can you say ‘Abigail’?”

“Abbigal?”

“Good enough,” Will laughed, then took a long draught of ale. “Good Lord, but it’s good to be home again!”

Over supper, prepared by Betty all by herself, Will learned all the news from Devonport and Plymouth, and from their neighbourhood. In turn, he told the women about the last months’ events in Dido, making little of Captain Fitzsimmons’s efforts to besmirch his officers, but praising Captain Deever and the late Mister Weathers.

“How sad that Mister Weathers fell before he could reap his just rewards,” Belle commented.

“It can happen to the best officers, but yes, it is sad. Percy was quite dismayed when he learned that he might profit from John Weathers’s death.”

“Much like you still mourn your Mister Evans, right?” Abigail stated, once again showing her understanding of Will’s character.

“Yes, it is similar. It just shows me what a good man Percy is.”

“You are right, Will. Horace will have a second good example in his Godfather.”

Later that evening, after feeding little Anna, Abigail cuddled close to Will as they lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come. With his wife still too sore for any physical affirmation of their love, Will was content to hold her close and to smell the scent of her hair. In no time at all, he fell into a deep, contented sleep and only awoke when a rooster crowed one alley over.

The early forenoon watch saw him at the victualling yard, presenting his account and asking for fresh provisions. He was told to wait for when his ship’s turn came. Indeed, with the Royal Navy returning to full force, Will found Dido on a waiting list to receive the required provisions, with larger frigates and ships of the line repeatedly being moved ahead of Dido. The dockyard, too, was overwhelmed by urgent refittings, and they could not get a new main yard right away. At least, Percy was able to talk the dockyard out of an older anchor as replacement for the one they had lost, and they also received a new anchor cable for it.

Of course, Will used the time in port to visit his family on a daily basis. A few times, Percy gave him permission to sleep ashore, first just cuddling with an Abigail who was slowly recovering from the birth, but after a week also making gentle love to his wife. Twice, Percy accepted Will’s invitations to sup at the Potters’ home, watching his growing Godson with a fond smile.

Then, three weeks after casting anchor, orders arrived from London. Will was on deck when two large, sealed linen envelopes were delivered, and he was quite surprised when another such envelope, bearing the seal of the Victualling Board, was handed to himself. He quickly retired to the wardroom to break the seal and read what amounted to a veritable upheaval for himself and his family.

Will let out a small whistle. He was being appointed to a fifth-rate frigate, and a big one at that, carrying 18-pounders on her main deck. Odin was only eight years old, a sister ship of the famous Amazon, and certainly a fat raisin in the big Royal Navy pudding.

The big drawback was of course the fact that Odin’s home port was Portsmouth, over 120 miles east of Plymouth, where she would call for victualling and repairs. Having Abigail and his children live in Plymouth would not do. Yet, having Abigail live in Portsmouth would fairly uproot her and separate her from her friends and neighbours.

Yet, if he wanted to remain a ship’s purser, he could not refuse the assignment ... Also, the increased pay would amount to over £98, well over the £76 he was currently drawing. If he remembered correctly, those 18-pounder frigates had a complement of 270 men, and a larger Royal Marines detachment compared with Dido giving him more opportunities to cut costs. He would also see a brisker business with his slopchest.

He decided to ask his friend for advice. He found Percy in his cabin on the quarterdeck.

“Hullo, Will. You got orders, too?”

“Yes. I am to leave Dido. They want me to take over a fifth-rate, the Odin, in Portsmouth.”

“So you’re leaving, too. I’ll be getting the Squirrel, a 24-gun post-ship. At least I’ll be posted.”

“Oh, we had hoped for you to be posted in Dido.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I shouldn’t complain. I’ll be a post captain at twenty-three.”

“Well, congratulations, Sir,” Will smiled.

“Will you be moving your household to Portsmouth?”

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to Abigail. I don’t want to uproot her, but Portsmouth is awfully far away from here, and any letters will take a week longer.”

“Can you afford to move?”

“I have enough savings for a modest house. We can also expect the prize monies for our captures last year. I could sell the house here, but where would Belle and Clyde go?”

“That’s a pickle to be sure. Perhaps Clyde can buy it? He and his wife may have savings, too.”

“I can ask Belle, but Clyde’s at sea in his Camilla.”

“You haven’t a choice, have you?” Abigail asked, being quite composed.

“I’m afraid not, if I want to keep my warrant. I can certainly earn more money, too, what with the higher pay and the larger crew. A big frigate such as Odin is also more likely to catch prizes, and the wardroom is bound to be more roomy.”

“Then we’ll just have to move to Portsmouth. It’ll be not much different from Devonport. Have we enough to buy our own house there?”

“I believe we do. Perhaps we can even find a house in a good neighbourhood, with merchants and officers living nearby.”

“I felt quite at home here, but it might be better for you to have neighbours of some consequence,” Abigail answered thoughtfully.

“That’s not something we can find out whilst we’re not there. We must also talk to Belle. She’s been a boarder in this house for seven years.”

At supper, Will brought up the issue with Belle, telling her of his orders and of his wish for Abigail to move to Portsmouth.

“I’ve nothing to hold me in Plymouth or Devonport, my dears, and Clyde has not either. Camilla’s homeport is Cowes. Do you think I could come along to Portsmouth and keep renting accommodations from you? Abby and I have become fast friends, and we have infants of the same age. Also, if Clyde comes to port, I’ll be just across The Solent. You may even want to look for a property on the Gosport side.”

“You’ve been to Portsmouth before?” Will asked.

“Why, certainly. I played there thrice, the last time in ‘99. I liked it well there.”

“That sounds good. With Odin in the dockyard, I should have enough time to find a suitable house for us. Can you agree, darling?”

Abigail smiled. “I trust you completely to look after me and Belle. On the bright side, with you a standing officer whilst Odin is under repairs, you’ll be at home far more than in the last months.”

“There is that, darling. I also know Mister Davenport, the commissioner. He is a fair man, and I should not have problems with the vitualling yard. All right then. I shall compose my letter of acceptance and start my final reconning with the Plymouth yard before I’ll travel to Portsmouth. I’ll either find respectable lodgings or a good, sturdy house of our own.”

Settling his account with the victualling board went smoothly. Young Mister Dancer handled it without much fussing, mostly because one of Mister Croft’s protégés was eager to get a purser’s warrant. The man also wanted to buy out Will’s slop chest wares, but Will did not know the chandlers and merchants in Portsmouth yet, and therefore resolved to take his wares along to Portsmouth.

Will received a letter of exchange in the value of £1,000 from Mister Parry for his surety, and another one from his bank house for £1,700, which he could present to the Portsmouth victualling yard and whichever bank house he would find in his new home port. He also took along £600 worth of government bonds.

Before he left, they had the joint baptism of Anna Belle Potter — with Belle Barker as proud Godmother — and William Samuel Barker, with Will and Samuel McSwain standing as Godfathers. Afterwards, Will and the Reverend Atherton shook hands like the good friends they had become. Will also bade his farewell to Percy who would leave Plymouth a few days later to take command of his new ship.

Two days later, Will boarded the Wellesley, an East Indiaman bound for London, which had made a stop in Plymouth to land the outgoing Governor of Bombay, Lord Bromley, his family, and his accrued riches. Therefore, Will was given the use of the best cabin for the brief passage to Portsmouth, and at a rather small cost. His slop chest wares also found room in the huge East Indiaman. For Will, the costs of £2.4s was small compared with travelling over land, and for Captain Donaldson of the Wellesley, it was easily earned money.

The passage was comfortable in the extreme, and Will asked Captain Donaldson if the East India Company might be hiring pursers, for Wellesley’s purser certainly looked well fed and fashionably clothed without seeming overly competent to Will. To his disappointment, he was told that it took an influential relative in the East India Company to be appointed to such a plum assignment.

Still, the short passage under luxurious conditions lifted his spirits and arriving in Portsmouth, Will found accommodations at a decent inn in the centre of the city. Afterwards, he returned to the harbour to find temporary storage for his possessions. Then, even before supper, he asked the landlord for a reliable solicitor. The worthy man grinned.

“The Navy gentlemen usually use Mister John Curtiss’s services, but I hear that he does not accept clients below captain’s rank. I know that Captain Wallis, who is boarding next door, is very content with another solicitor, Mister Ebenezer Hogsbotham.”

He saw the twitching of Will’s mouth and grinned himself.

“He’s very good, Mister Hogsbotham is, Sir, in spite of his surname. He has his offices in High Street, and he handles a lot of property sales for Navy gentlemen.”

“And would he accept a lowly warrant officer?”

“You’d have to ask, but I would think, yes.”

“Well, thank you for your good advice, Mister Landlord. I had better interview that gentleman soonest.”

The supper offered in the Old Mahogany Inn was a stew with fresh potatoes and steamed carrots, and it tasted heavenly to a man used to salted pork, green peas and hard tack. After supper, he retired to his upstairs sleeping chamber. He could hear a young couple next door whispering and giggling, and he smiled a little, wishing them happiness.

Fortified by a hearty breakfast, Will set out in the next morning to find Mister Hogsbotham’s office on High Street. The worthy solicitor was conferring with a client, and Will had to wait for a half hour before being admitted.

He found a rotund man of middling age, with full jowls and a cheerful disposition.

“Please, do come in, Mister Potter! What is it that I can do for you on this fine morning?”

“Thank you, Mister Hogsbotham,” Will replied courteously. “I am the new purser of the Odin frigate, currently under repairs at the dockyard. I and my family will be relocating from Plymouth, and I wish to retain a solicitor in my new home port. Mostly I am looking to buy a house, of two stories at least, but fitting my rank and station. My old house in Plymouth will go on the market for sale, but I have ready funds for a purchase. I believe I can go as far as twelve hundred pounds.”

Mister Hogsbotham was impressed, Will could see, and he nodded judiciously.

“May I ask whom you retained in Plymouth, Mister Potter?”

“Mister Martin Cromwell is tending to my business in Plymouth.”

Again, Hogsbotham nodded. “I know of Mister Cromwell; we had dealings twice if I recall correctly. I shall consult a few bank houses as to buying opportunities. Have you preferences with regard to location?”

“The area towards Southsea Castle was suggested to me, but also Gosport.”

“I see. Both may be good choices, given that they do not attract the higher ranks of the Navy, nor the wealthier of the merchants. You introduced yourself as a purser. May I assume that you could make good use of an attached goods shed?”

Will had to smile. The man certainly knew his business.

“That would be helpful. It is always more profitable buying goods en gros, and a goods shed would come in handily. How come you know the needs of pursers so well?”

Hogsbotham allowed himself a smile. “I know the economics under which pursers must operate. Suffice to say, one of my older clients is in the same profession, and I assume that your needs will be similar. Of course, his needs are greater, seeing how he serves in a second-rate ship.”

“His earnings, too,” Will mumbled.

“Undubitably, my dear Mister Potter, but seeing how young you are for your rank, and how much money you have available for a purchase, you are not doing poorly, either.”

“I had a good mentor,” Will said modestly.

“Well, I shall look for opportunities for you. Where may I find you if something opens up?”

“I am lodging at the Old Mahogany inn, but I will likely shift to the Odin frigate soonest. I shall send you a note if my lodgings change.”

“Perfect! Have you any other needs, Mister Potter?”

“Can you recommend a reliable banking house to me?”

“Well, certainly. Coutts & Palmer are a solid house which I recommend to my clients. I am banking there myself. They’re about twenty houses east of here and across the street.”

“Thank you for your good advice, Mister Hogsbotham. I also have a copy of my will with me, which I would ask you to safekeep for my wife, Mistress Abigail Potter, and my children, Horace and Anna Potter. They are my heirs.”