Chapter 8: Dido

Plymouth, January 1801

Will and Abigail had celebrated the Christmas holidays together with Albert Trent, who came to visit them for four days. They had a fine Christmas dinner of a lesser beef roast, a fine treat nonetheless, and enjoyed coffee and biscuits afterwards.

Now that the new year had arrived, and it was cold. In the Princess Royal, the pantry fire was kept going all day to provide a modicum of warmth to the men, and the stench — a mix of smoke and humanity — between the decks was awful. Occupancy was unusually high in the old ship with over 600 ratings huddled in the upper decks and another 400 prisoners on the lower gundeck and orlop deck. At least, this justified the permanent pantry fire, as the food had to be prepared in shifts with so many mouths to feed.

Captain Preble temporarily cancelled the nightly shore leave for the officers as the cramped conditions caused tempers to flare up. He himself stayed on board in those first weeks of the year, enforcing a rigorous training upon the men to keep them busy.

Will was given two more helpers to handle the provisions in the over filled ship, and he was busier than ever before in his time in the Navy. On the other hand, he enjoyed a regular windfall of earnings with his slop chest, and by late January, he was completely sold out and had to ask Captain Preble for a few days’ leave to restock. In the interest of peace, the Captain agreed.

Fortunately, a 74-gun 3rd-rate was floated out of the dry dock after a lengthy revision. By February 1st, she was recommissioned, and her new captain was given 260 of the men who had been housed in the Princess Royal. According to Lieutenant Jones, the captain, a wealthy baronet, had bribed the port admiral with over £100 to receive a total of 400 men from the Plymouth receiving ships. This meant that with the Royal Marines detachment, he had a full complement without the hassle of recruitment.

This lessened the burden for the wardroom in the old receiving ship, and once again, shore leave was given to the wardroom, albeit only for three nights per week. Still, for Will this meant sleeping with Abigail in his arms, and he was happy for it.

Later in the month, a 5th-rate frigate was commissioned after a rebuild, and Princess Royal contributed 150 men as the nucleus of her new crew. Will had no doubt that the captain of that frigate had made some contribution to the port admiral’s coffers, too.

So far, Will had not heard anything about Captain Preble’s plan to post him to a seagoing ship, and the newly recommissioned frigate had a purser in place who had stayed during the repairs with the other standing officers. Will was not eager to return to sea anyway, leading a rather quiet, safe, and rewarding life as purser in the old receiving ship. His slop chest was restocked, and with the number of ratings more than halved, the victualling returned to its previous, easy pace.

Then, in late February, a small sixth-rate frigate anchored in the roads. Will was on deck, overseeing the stowing of the next month’s provisions, and the elderly midshipman of the watch dutifully reported the recognition signal.

“HMS Dido, 28, Captain D’Arcy!”

That had to be Clyde Barker’s ship, Will realised. She looked smart enough, dropping her anchor and getting her sails in, but then, Barker had always kept the Serpent’s crew in shape and could be expected to do the same in a small frigate. Briefly, Will wondered if he would meet his former shipmate. The ship looked fine to Will’s eyes, and she would be a good ship for a junior purser, but he knew from Barker that she had one in place.

He had leave for the night, and when he walked home through the dusk, he had all but forgotten about Dido and Barker, looking forward to one of Abigail’s suppers and another night spent cuddling with her. So far, Abigail had not ‘caught’, had not become with child, in spite of their regular trysts, and Will was a little worried that she might be barren. Then again, it could just as well be his own shortcoming as Samuel McSwain had told him when Will voiced his worries.

Arriving at home, he at once knew that they had guests from the lively conversation he heard. Entering the common room, he saw Samuel McSwain, Jane Brewer, but also Mister Barker sitting at the table with their boarders. Looking up, Barker smiled at Will.

“Ah! Here he is! You are doing well I see, Will, and you married a fine young lass, too.”

Will got over his surprise and smiled back.

“I don’t have grounds for complaining. I believe I saw your ship dropping her anchor this noon?”

“Saw us, huh? Well, she’s a fine frigate, nine-pounders or not, and she sails like a naughty dream.”

Both Abigail and Miss Faversham giggled at that, and Barker blushed a little.

“I beg your pardon, ladies. Spending all hours of the day with sailors will do that to a man’s language.”

“I believe I heard that expression once or thrice in my life,” Belle Faversham grinned. “It’s poor Abby who should be scandalised.”

“If you think sailors are bad, you should hear mule drivers,” Abigail retorted. “Sticks and stones, and all that.”

“She’s a young lady after a sailor’s heart, Will,” Barker smiled.

“Why don’t you wash and then join us, love?” Abigail suggested, and Will followed her advice, washing the grime of the day off his hands. He also took off his coat and his cravat and pulled a knitted sweater made by Abigail over his head, before joining the boarders and his guests at table. With eight people, things were a tad crowded, but manageable, and soon Betty and Fanny began to serve the soup. Will had found a butcher close by who supplied the meats for the wardroom, and in return, Will and Abigail were given favourable terms for their own needs. Hence, the soup was a rich beef broth with chunks of meat, carrots and peas.

“You eat well, young friend,” McSwain observed.

Will shrugged. “I make a bit more as purser of the Princess. We try to live better. Your practice seems to thrive, too.”

Samuel McSwain nodded smugly. “I’ll be taking in an apprentice next month. You remember O’Leary?”

Will nodded. “Sure.”

O’Leary had been the surgeon’s mate in Serpent, a volunteer like Will, but quite older.

“He was discharged last week. I can use him as a helper and for riding out to the farms.”

“He’s a good man,” Will conceded.

After the soup, the girls served bread, butter and cheese for those not yet sated, and then Will filled mugs with ale for them all. Barker then told them of the Dido frigate and her captain.

“He’s a daring one, is Captain D’Arcy. We’ve caught three prizes already. Nothing big, mind you, but the wardroom shared over 300 pounds, over 42 pounds each. You know how much prize money we made in the Serpent? Not a bloody penny, that’s how much we made.”

“Where’s she stationed?” Will inquired.

“Saint Peter Port. We’re patrolling the Channel Islands, making sure the Frogs don’t start any mischief. O’course, those folks on Guernsey and Jersey are all smuggling and trading with the Frogs, or they would if we’d let them. They don’t like us much. We’re also keeping an eye on Saint Malo and the bloody corsairs. They’re crafty buggers, but so far we’ve kept them from catching any shipping headed to and from Jersey.”

“Sounds exciting,” Will conceded.

“Damn right it is. Look, Will, I won’t beat about the bush. We have a good crew and a good wardroom, but we’re short a purser. We were in port, and Tim Croft was ashore, doing some wheeling and dealing, quite likely with the damn smugglers. Got his head bashed in, the stupid sod. The Captain remembers you from that coach ride, and I certainly know you’re a solid man. D’Arcy went to the Commander in Chief to ask for you, and Captain Preble will talk to your commissioner, just so you’re warned.”

Will looked at Abigail and she gave him a sad shrug.

“It’s your duty, Will. I shall cope.”

Will tried a jest then. “I am sure you can cope, but what about me? I’ll spend my evenings with that man instead of you!” He pointed at Barker who — well, barked — a laugh.

“I feel with you, Will!”

There were chuckles around the table, and even Abigail smiled.

“Poor you!” She commiserated with him. “And poor me,” she added with a blush, setting off more laughter. “Just make certain to return in one piece, you hear!”

“Well, I told you that the Frogs are rotten gunners, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, but make sure that you don’t cross those smugglers.”

“Little chance o’that,” Will assured her. “I’ll rather not have dealings with those. So, when will Dido weigh anchor?”

“Depends on what you’ll find in her hold. I looked into Croft’s books, and they’re a jumble. You’ll need to sort things out with the victualling board before you can take responsibility. Don’t worry, they’ll take the difference from Croft’s surety. The captain wants to sail in a week, ten days on the outside. You’ll be quite busy, no doubt.”

“I’ll say. Oliver, d’ye think Mister Davenport will agree?”

Will and Mister Jenkins were on a first name basis now.

“He won’t stand in your way, Will. Remember, he owes you. Besides, the word is out he’ll take over the Deptford yard. He won’t care much about the Princess.”

Will sighed deeply. “I better get my sea chest ready and replenish the slop chest. How big’s her complement?”

“Two-hundred all told, although we’re down to 179. Guess we’ll be up to 180 when you’ll join.”

Will thought briefly. “I can ask Captain Preble to give us a few men. He’s my captain in the Princess Royal. We have over 200 ratings waiting for a transfer.”

“You do that, and the captain will like you even better,” Barker grinned. “Has your Captain Preble any pull?”

“He is Sir Thomas Pasley’s flag captain. He’s a fine captain, and it’s a damn shame he lost his leg.”

“Talk to the man, Will. We need more hands and none can be found in Plymouth nor on Guernsey.”

Two days later, Will received orders to “repair on board HM frigate Dido, assume the duties of said frigate’s purser and settle the accounts of the late Mister Croft with the Victualling Board,” after which he was charged with victualling the ship.

He bid his farewell to the Princess Royal’s wardroom and had his personal stores and possession shifted to his new ship. He also visited Captain Preble at the commander-in-chief’s quarters, to pay his respects, but also to ask for the transfer of a dozen ratings from the Princess to Dido. With a smile and a shrug, Preble drafted an order to this effect and submitted it to Sir Thomas, neatly leaving the port admiral out of that business.

Next, Will visited Mister Davenport to express his gratitude for the things he had learned whilst serving in the victualling yard. Mister Davenport thanked him for his good services in turn and gave him a letter of recommendation for his future dealings with the Victualling Board.

He spent one last night ashore with his young wife, and it must be said that they spent the entire night fornicating like two rabbits in Spring. It was a hollow-eyed Will who sat at breakfast with an equally tired Abigail, once more detailing the provisions he had made for her livelihood, but also handing her a copy of his will, the original resting with Mister Cromwell, the solicitor. Then, after one last kiss and embrace, he was off to his new ship.

HMS Dido, 28, was one of the last 28-gun sixth-rate frigates ever built. She was completed in ‘84 and in excellent shape since she’d been laid up between the wars. She was a sound ship, built with well aged timbers. Will arrived in a rented boat with his sea chest and his orders and entered the ship on the port side. He saluted the flag and then turned to the officer of the watch, a man in his late twenties.

“William Potter, purser, come aboard, Sir!”

“James Muir, second lieutenant. Welcome aboard, Mister Potter! You had better report to Captain D’Arcy first.”

“Certainly, Sir! Shall I find my way aft?”

“Please do so, Mister Potter. We shall be able to acquaint ourselves presently.”

“Aye-aye, Sir!”

With that, Will headed aft to the quarterdeck and to the captain’s cabin. A sentry was guarding the entrance, as was proper, and Will gave his name and rank.

“Mister William Potter to see you, Sir!” the sentry rapped.

“Show him in!” a voice came from within, and the sentry opened the door for Will.

Entering, Will saw a small, but nicely appointed day cabin and, sitting at a fine dinner table, Captain D’Arcy. Will came to attention.

“William Potter, purser. Come aboard, Sir!”

“Welcome, Mister Potter!” D’Arcy answered pleasantly. “It is good to see you again, and even better to have you appointed to my ship. A note came from the Commander-in-Chief this morning allowing us to recruit a dozen ratings from the receiving ships. Was that your doing?.”

“I asked Captain Preble for the favour, Sir. It was selfish of me, Sir. With more ratings, my own profits will increase, too,” Will answered honestly, causing his new captain to grin.

“I appreciate a warrant officer with motivation,” D’Arcy returned. “May I see your papers, Mister Potter?”

“Of course, Sir,” Will answered, handing over his log book.

“Five journeys in the Serpent, a stint in the victualling office, and now in the old Princess Royal. You’ll find Dido a tad bit smaller.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Mister Barker tells me that you have a young wife on the shore?”

“Yes, Sir. We married last summer.”

“At least you had a few months with her.”

“There is that, Sir. We always knew that the appointment to the Princess Royal was only temporary.”

“So, let’s talk about our pressing needs, Mister Potter. I need you to settle the account of Mister Croft with the victualling office. I take it that you dealt with accounts when you were a clerk there?”

“Yes, Sir. My boarder, Mister Jenkins, is a senior clerk for Mister Davenport, the commissioner. He already promised his help, Sir.”

“That would be appreciated indeed. Mister Croft left everything in quite a mess, and I am afraid that you have your work cut out for you.”

“I can handle that, Sir. I know everybody at the victualling yard, and I’ll do my best to get us ready for sea soonest, Sir.”

“That would be much appreciated, Mister Potter. You have the cooper, Williamson, and a helper, Barnsley, but no steward. If you can find somebody in the receiving ships, we can rate him purser’s steward.”

“I shall ask Mister Barker to look out for somebody lettered, Sir.”

“A good idea! Well, Mister Potter, let me not keep you from your duties. Again, welcome, and good luck!”

“Thank you, Sir! By your leave!”

With that, Will left the after cabin and found the wardroom, one deck below. It housed three lieutenants, the sailing master, a lieutenant of the Royal Marines, the surgeon and now him. First lieutenant and sailing master had separate cabins on the quarterdeck, but the other officers slept in small compartments on either side of the common room.

Being the junior wardroom member, Will’s compartment was on the port side and closest to the entrance. It was not much more than a cot with room underneath for his sea chest, two square feet of standing room, a small desk affixed to the bulkhead, and a three-legged stool. Wooden pegs on the opposite bulkhead would hold his coat, bicorne hat and personal weapons. It was only barely more spacious than his old chamber off the wardroom of Serpent — a furnished cupboard with a latticed door to let air in and fumes out.

There was also a strongbox in Will’s small cabin, containing over £260 in banknotes and a collection of gold coins. Those were meant for victualling in foreign ports where British pound notes were not accepted. Will made a list of the monies and then asked the 1st lieutenant to countersign the list.

Next, he talked to the Cooper. Williamson was rather young, but still Will’s senior by five years. The water barrels on board the Dido were well used after over five years of active service, and the cooper needed new staves to replace damaged ones. The plan was to hoist all the barrels up from the hold during their stay in Devonport, to replace the damaged staves and to fire them with glowing coal from within to delay the growth of algae.

They also inspected the pork barrels, but Williamson could only point out two which leaked salt brine. Of the age of the barrels he had no inkling. There was only one way to handle this. Will recruited the surgeon, Mister Matthews, and the captain’s clerk to form a committee together with himself, and then the deck hands hoisted the barrels up, one after the other, for inspection. To Will’s pleasant surprise, only one barrel of five had gone bad, and it was marked and stowed away separately for replacement. For now, the four barrels were stowed in the hold again.

The cheese locker was almost empty, and after stowing the last two cheese wheels elsewhere, the surgeon helped Will to fumigate the cheese locker. One of the sacks of dried peas had landed in bilge water at one point, and its contents were now unfit to eat. Again, the rotten peas were stowed separately. The bread locker was inspected last, and Will could see the problems as soon as they opened the door. Swarms of mealworms were infesting the storage. Will closed the door immediately after a quick count of the sacks. Then he once again recruited the surgeon for a thorough fumigation of the bread storage.

Over all this work, the day had passed, but Will had gained a good idea about the supplies. Before supper was served in the wardroom, Will inspected the slop chest and prepared a list of the inventory. He found most merchandise to be of inferior make and not comparable to the goods he had acquired himself. He decided then and there to transfer the entire slopchest of Mister Croft to the victualling yard, for Mister Croft’s family or heirs to claim it. Once again, Clyde Barker countersigned the inventory, and then the slop chest was locked and prepared for transport in the next morning.

By now it was time for the supper, but also for Will to assume responsibility for the wardroom’s purse and stores. As expected, the stores were low, but at least the purse was well filled. Will calculated that his own contribution came to £15 for the next months, and he added that amount to the purse.

Sitting at supper, he met the other wardroom members. The 2nd lieutenant, Percival Montgomery, was a year younger than Will and dressed immaculately. His speech was quite refined, too, hinting at a wealthy and possible noble family background. Angus Donovan, by contrast, was the oldest wardroom member and the sailing master of the small frigate. Peter Murdoch, another Scotsman, was the lieutenant commanding the Royal Marines detachment. Will guessed him to be around twenty-five years. He was outgoing and had a ready laugh, and he was popular with the other officers.

Naturally, Will had to recount his own background over supper, including his miraculous inheritance from Mister Evans, and he felt that Montgomery became a bit cooler towards him when his humble background came to light.