Chapter 2: One-hundred Days (March 1815)

Spring was looming ahead, and the Greys were enjoying a period of tranquility in their home. Mirabel was by now showing a growing bulge, and Thomas was hovering around her almost constantly. This she bore with amused tolerance, assuring her husband time and again that she was feeling wonderful and of good health. Now that the temperatures were rising and the days were getting longer, they frequently strolled along the paths around their house, talking and holding hands. Mirabel claimed that she needed the exercise and that it made her sleep better at night.

The mail service was regular again, and they stayed in touch with their circle of friends by the frequent exchange of letters. The London newspapers arrived with barely a day of delay, allowing them to stay abreast of the developments around the capital.

The first worrisome news arrived on a Saturday, March 4th. The Morning Chronicle carried a headline reporting that the deposed Emperor Napoleon had escaped from Elba and landed on the French coast near Antibes. Somehow, he had boarded a ship that had managed to evade the patrolling British ships, and he was at the head of a few hundred armed followers, marching inland.

Thomas expected that the next days would bring his capture, possibly even his execution, at the hands of the French army, but he had a nagging worry that the hold of the French government over the army might be tenuous, especially when the commanding officers had lived their glory days under the former emperor. Add to that the discontent of the French people with their royalty, and Napoleon might just gather a large enough following to be a threat.

He was therefore anxiously awaiting further news, hoping to read of Napoleon’s capture, but for a few days, not much precipitated. Then came the alarming report that Marshal Ney, who had promised to stop and apprehend his former emperor, had indeed changed sides again, together with his army, and that Napoleon was now in approach to Paris.

The newspapers also reported that the royal court was hastily breaking camp in the face of the challenge, a bad omen in Thomas’s eyes. This was confirmed on March 22nd, when the news arrived that Napoleon had entered Paris without even a shot being fired and had declared himself emperor again. At the same time, it was reported that the delegates at the Vienna Congress had indeed stopped waltzing for once, and that a 7th Coalition was being formed to thwart Napoleon’s resurrection.

Two days later, there was more in the mail than newspapers. Thomas’s pulse quickened when he saw the sealed sailcloth envelope. Mirabel saw it too, and she blanched a little.

“You think you might get orders, Thomas?” she asked.

Thomas nodded apprehensively. “Unless they’re giving me a flag already, what else can it be?” It was a weak enough joke warranting only a weak smile on Mirabel’s part.

He opened the envelope, and sure enough, those were orders for him.

Thomas held the orders for Mirabel to read, and she swallowed heavily.

“They need you, Thomas. England needs you. Do not fret about me, darling. I shall be fine, and perhaps you will be back ere the child will come.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Thomas sighed. “Still, can I leave you alone?”

“Yes, I am of good health, and I have friends on whom to rely. Do not worry. Just be careful and come back. That’s all I ask of you. Come back!”

“The Frenchman hasn’t been born who could keep me from coming back to you, my love!” Thomas affirmed, but then he sighed again. “I had better have Broderick pack my sea chests. Meanwhile, I’ll summon Mr. Chalk to give him the necessary instructions; Mr. Conway, too.”

He quickly sprang into action, writing billets, but also a short letter to Mr. Egerton, asking his mentor to watch over Mirabel in his absence. Meanwhile, Mirabel set the servants to work. The maids assembled the sea chests under Broderick’s supervision whilst the coachman was sent into Guildford to make reservations for the afternoon post chaise to London. Broderick was also assembling a chest of his own, insisting on accompanying his master, regardless of his inexperience in all seagoing matters. Thomas accepted, realising that he needed a servant at the least.

Finally, everything was readied. Mirabel insisted on riding the coach to Guildford with him to see him off, and given her excellent constitution, Thomas welcomed the chance to spend an additional hour with his beloved wife. As it was, they arrived in Guildford only a few minutes before the post chaise from Portsmouth, barely giving them the time to say all they wanted to say. It was with a heavy heart that Thomas climbed into the coach, showing the pass that had arrived with his orders, and settling onto the forward facing bench.

He was the only captain on the coach, with a commander and three lieutenants sharing the rest of the seating. They introduced themselves to each other, but their conversation soon faded away as each of them was undoubtedly contemplating the impending upheavals in their lives. It was after dark when Thomas arrived in London. He was lucky to find a free guest room at the St. Croix club, whilst Broderick would have to share a chamber in the upstairs servants’ quarters. Fortunately, the kitchen was still open, and Thomas had a late supper. Using the club’s staff, he sent a billet to the Bennings, advising them of his new command, before he retired for the night.

Having left instructions with the staff, Thomas was roused by a young chambermaid at 4 bells in the morning watch. After a quick sponge bath and a shave, he went down to the dining room for breakfast, only to find Elias Benning waiting for him.

“That comes from meeting important people,” he grumbled. “They gave me the Centaur, God damn them! So, you’re getting the Clyde back?”

“Looks that way,” Thomas grinned. “Where will you be headed?”

“The Dutch coast, making sure our troop transports reach Antwerp unmolested. God damn that fat little troublemaker!”

“Yes, he has a way of messing up a married man’s life,” Thomas agreed. “I hope they’ll send him to New South Wales when we’ll catch him.”

“Amen! P’raps drop him over the side on the way.”

A server brought coffee for Thomas and a plate with a full breakfast. Thomas cleaned off his plate in spite of his morose mood.

“How has my dear Aunt Angela taken the news?”

“Give her ten minutes alone with Boney, and our problems will be solved,” Elias smirked. “Let’s hope the Duke will do away with him for good.”

Thomas nodded. “He will lead our forces?”

“What there is of them, at least. The best troops were sent to America, and they’re only slowly trickling back in. The Guards will go, of course, and whatever they can scrape together in Hanover and Brunswick. The Prussians will send two armies. Say, how will Mirabel cope?”

“She’s brave. It’s more a question of how I shall cope without her,” Thomas answered morosely.

“I was thinking, always assuming you have no objections, that Angela could take a barge upriver and look after Mirabel whilst you’re gone. It would take Angela’s mind off things as well.”

Thomas nodded slowly, contemplating the idea. He would feel better knowing that Angela would be there for Mirabel. It was only the question of how much mothering Mirabel could tolerate, but then again, they had got along famously unless some reception was looming ahead. Besides, Mirabel had gained enormously in self esteem, and she would be able to rein in Angela if things became too much.

“That would be wonderful. It would take a load off my mind, and they could both enjoy their companionship,” he therefore answered.

“Knowing my wife, she’ll be leaving today,” Elias laughed. “I suppose you’ll want to see your ship first thing?”

“Naturally,” Thomas confirmed. “How difficult is it to man the ships?”

“Right now, not very. You’ll have a full complement of able seamen within days. There are many former ratings who could not find berths in merchantmen. They’ll be happy to get off the streets and have regular meals. Also, your name will draw many volunteers, given your excellent luck with prize monies.”

“When will you be ready?”

“A week hence, ten days at the most,” Elias said. “Just be careful with the victualling yard. They’re trying to foist last year’s pork barrels on the ships.”

“Nothing new then,” Thomas said with a sigh. “I’ll keep an eye on the purser.”

Shortly after, both men finished their breakfast. A coach was ready outside, and Broderick saw to it that their sea chests were stowed safely. Soon, the coach rattled along the streets to the Pool of London where Centaur’s cutter was waiting. Elias’s ship was also fitting out at Deptford, and he gave Thomas a passage.

It was strange to see his old ship, Clyde, appear before them, looking pretty much as he had left her some months ago. There was activity on her deck though, and he imagined that the first officers had arrived already. All work came to a halt however when the crew became aware of a captain approaching the ship. Elias’s coxswain lifted six fingers, signifying the approach of a senior captain, and minutes later, Thomas stepped through the port to the twitter of the boatswains’ pipes. Looking around, he saw none other than Lt. Harvey, his former and obviously new 1st lieutenant. Harvey saluted.

“Sir Thomas, crew is assembled!”

“Thank you, Mr. Harvey. It is good to see you. I trust you are still my Nº 1?”

“Yes, Sir Thomas.”

“Excellent! Let’s take care of the formalities then,” Thomas nodded. He pulled his orders from his breast pocket and turned to face the assembled officers and ratings.

“Orders given to me, Sir Thomas Grey, Companion of the Bath, Knight of the Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus, Captain of the Royal Navy. Sir Thomas, you are hereby requested and required to...” he started, reading out his appointment and offering a few words of his own to the crew. It was almost routine after all these years, and he managed to end his short speech without mishap, even though in his mind, he was already surveying the faces of the men under his command. Once finished, he dismissed the watches and headed towards his cabin with Harvey in tow.

“You already assembled quite a few men, Mr. Harvey,” he said with appreciation.

Harvey nodded smugly. “There’s more than enough men wanting to volunteer, Sir Thomas. We have our pick. We’re still waiting for our half company of Marines, but we already have enough hands to sail the ship.”

“Excellent, Mr. Harvey. How about provisions? By the way, is Mr. Mercer still the purser?”

Harvey made a face and nodded. “Yes, he stayed with the ship whilst she was in ordinary.”

“I was warned that the victualling yard will try to unload old meat casks on the ships making ready. We must be vigilant. Let Mr. Mercer know, please.”

“With pleasure, Sir Thomas. Do you know our destination, Sir?”

“Not yet, Mr. Harvey. I suspect our posting will depend on how fast we can ready her for sea.”

Harvey nodded sagely. “Must be quite a madhouse at the Admiralty, Sir Thomas.”

“What are the pressing tasks, right now?”

“We’re going over the standing rigging, Sir Thomas. It doesn’t look too bad, but I’d like to make certain. The sailmaker came aboard yesterday. He and his mates are inspecting the canvas. We’re still waiting for a gunner, so the powder barge will have to come in a few days. We’ll receive round shot later today; we shan’t need a gunner to store those. No surgeon either so far.”

“How long have you been in charge then, Mr. Harvey?”

“Three days, Sir Thomas.”

“You have done an enormous amount of work, Mr. Harvey. I shall make that known in the first report I shall submit.”

“Thank you, Sir Thomas. It helped that I know the ship so well.”

“Well, thank you anyway for your excellent service. I had better settle in quickly and then visit the Admiralty. Can you detail a gig’s crew?”

“There’s a cox’n who claims to have served you before, James Grover, Sir Thomas.”

“Grover? By god, he was my cox’n in the old Dido.”

“There’s another man, name is Pillard, who claims to be a steward. Says you know him, Sir Thomas.”

Thomas barked a short laugh. “Oh yes, I do. I even promised to make him my steward once I became captain. Can’t renege on my word, can I?”

“You want to see him then, Sir Thomas?”

“Yes, Mr. Harvey. Send him aft. I brought my manservant, but the good man has no shipboard experience. Pillard can handle the table. He used to be a bright lad back in the Wolverine.”

It was indeed Pillard, then gunroom steward in the old Wolverine. He stood stiffly to attention and stared at Thomas with awe. Of course, the last seven years had changed Thomas, from a gangly midshipman to a grown man wearing a resplendent uniform. Pillard had changed, too. His hair, in an unruly mop back then, was now bound in a queue. His face had filled a little, and he was not scrawny anymore.

“So, Pillard, you came to remind me of my promise back then?”

“Yes, Sir, well, no, Sir Thomas. I just heard that you’d be given command of the Clyde, and I thought that maybe you may have use for me.”

“Well, my old steward, Bartleby, left my employ, so the position is open. Are you up for it?”

“I believe so, Sir Thomas. I was transferred to the Undine frigate, in ‘10. I was wardroom steward for two years, and then served Captain Gorran for another two. I’ve learned a lot, Sir Thomas.”

“I brought my manservant, Broderick, who will look after my clothes and my beddings, but he knows next to nothing about cooking. That’s where you’ll have to come in, Pillard. He’ll handle my sleeping chamber, and you’ll have to handle the day cabin.”

“That sounds excellent, Sir Thomas. You won’t be sorry, I promise.”

“Well then, have a look at the pantry and find what is needed. Make a list of stores you’ll need. I shall find Bartleby and ask him to help you a bit, let you know my preferences and such. He can also advise you on the wines and ales I’ll need. Check out the glass- and silverware in the cabin, and the china. List what’s missing. The cabin was stocked when I left the ship, but somebody may have pinched a few things in the meantime.”

Pillard nodded eagerly. “I’ll do that, Sir Thomas. This is a fine cabin, and I’ll take good care of it.”

Thomas spent the next hours going over the information he needed. They already had over 150 sailors, plus almost 30 landsmen and 25 boys, the latter from two orphanages in Whitechapel. With 50 Marines that were still to arrive and the petty officers to be sent by the Admiralty, Clyde was still undermanned, but not desperately so. Still, some efforts were needed to fully man the ship.

Harvey had really done admirable work so far, Thomas noted. The ship had been anchored over six months ago, with nobody looking over the rigging and the decks. Now, the standing rigging was already freshly tarred, the blocks for the running rigging were greased, and the sails were being examined. All of this had happened in the mere three days since Harvey took over. Something had to be done for the man.