In the Navy
Copyright© 2005/2020 to Argon
Chapter 64: Napoleon II
Visiting the commander in chief also resulted in a dinner invitation for Tony and Harriet on board Admiral Bickerton’s flagship. Captain Warner, Bickerton’s chief of staff, was notably absent, and Tony learned that the helpful captain had taken ill after a visit to the infirmary and now suffered from a violent fever which quite incapacitated him. As it turned out, that was the reason for Sir Richard to invite Tony, since when the gentlemen were amongst themselves enjoying aged brandies, he had a request.
“My dear Sir Anthony, might you be kind enough to fill in for poor Captain Warner until he is recovered? I remember well your excellent service at the Admiralty. The governorship at the Naval College is not really taxing, and I can make allowances for the time you need to spend with Professor Inman and his instructors. Captain Warner has been an able help for me, and I do not want to ask for a replacement for him. With you helping out, he can recuperate without worries.”
At first, Tony wanted to groan, but then he reconsidered. He had been the stop-gap man before, and he had not fared badly. Besides, being the Chief of Staff for the Commander in Chief would give him a little extra weight to push through some of the changes he wanted to introduce at the College. He therefore nodded.
“Of course, Sir Richard. Is there anybody on your staff who can fill me in on the current issues. I had rather not interview Captain Warner personally. I trust he is under quarantine?”
“Of course! Mister Onslow is my head clerk. A very able man. He can bring you up to scratch. Since your appointment will only be temporary, you can continue living in the Atlas hulk with your family. The talks with the Americans in Ghent are going well, and our main task will be laying up ships in ordinary. The Victualling Yard is run by the deputy commissioner, Mister Potter, a very able man, who is on top of things. There are not many repairs, so the dockyard is running smoothly, too. You’ll have to have an eye on the paymaster and his people, and see to it that the ratings get their due back pay when mustering out.”
“The usual, in other words,” Tony remarked drily.
“Yes, you can say that. Of course, once Mister Warner is up to his duties again, you will return to being the lieutenant governor.”
“Should I start tomorrow then, Sir Richard?”
“That would be helpful. Say, your brother-in-law, Captain Lambert, is free?”
“Yes, indeed. Saturn was taken over by Captain Willis.”
“Think he might fill in for you at the College? He’s rather senior, and his father and I are old acquaintances.”
“I can ask him, Sir Richard, and fill him in on the current problems.”
“Please, do that. I’ll see to it that he’ll be given a temporary posting. Now for the tough part, my dear Carter: you’ll have to tell Lady Harriet.”
“I envision no problems, Sir Richard. She is a true Navy wife and supports me come what may.”
“Then you are a lucky man, my dear Carter,” Bickerton laughed.
Captain Warner’s ague was a persisting one, and even after the fever abated, the emaciated man was too weak to do his duty. He also suffered from constant headaches, and the attending physician was at his wits’ end. Accordingly, some six weeks after taking over for Warner, Tony still served as acting Chief of Staff under Admiral Bickerton.
The work was not too taxing for an officer of Tony’s experience, and he came to appreciate the way Warner had organised the staff and the subaltern agencies. Ships were still coming in to be laid up, their crews yearning for their freedom, and their officers despairing of their future in the Royal Navy. Temporary accommodations for the volunteer ratings and petty officers had to be organised and funding secured to pay them off, but the Navy Yard had over a half year of experience by now, and most ships were paid off without problems. Still, the Treaty of Ghent, ending the war against America, was expected to bring back more ships to be laid up.
Then, on March 11, a brig-sloop entered Portsmouth Harbour, carrying urgent despatches. As Bickerton’s chief of staff, Tony received Commander Billingsley, of the Espoir sloop. The man was agitated, and Tony led him into his office immediately.
“You bear urgent news, Captain?”
“Yes, Sir Anthony. Boney escaped from Elba and landed near Antibes on the 1st. They say he’s assembling an army to march on Paris.”
“Is he now? Let us see Sir Richard. We must send that news to London immediately. The loyal troops should be able to deal with him, but this might develop into a nuisance. Please, follow me, Captain.”
Bickerton was available to see Tony and Captain Billingsley, and as soon as he heard the oral report, he sprang into action.
“Flags, have my coach readied immediately! Sir Anthony, you will accompany Captain Billingsley, and bring him to the Admiralty and the First Lord. No time to waste!”
“Aye-aye, Sir Richard!” Tony snapped, already turning. There was no time to lose, not even for packing clothes for the ride to London. Only fifteen minutes later, the commander in chief’s coach was rattling over Portsmouth’s cobbled streets and then followed the stagecoach road to London.
At Guildford, the spent horses were changed, and once more in Kingston upon Thames, and it was getting dark when the coach crossed the River Thames on London Bridge. The tired horses were whipped forward until the coach screeched to a halt in front of the Admiralty Building.
“Sir Anthony Carter to see the First Lord on orders from Admiral Bickerton, Commander in Chief, Portsmouth!” he rapped sharply, and indeed, Lord Melville was still in and received him and Commander Billingsley.
“You seem in great haste, my dear Sir Anthony?”
“Yes, milord. Captain Billingsley of the Espoir sloop arrived in Portsmouth this morning with urgent news. It would seem that the former emperor, Napoleon, escaped from Elba and landed on the French coast near Antibes. He is gathering followers, milord. Captain Billingsley has a written report.”
Melville nodded and held out his hand, and Billingsley hastily handed over a sealed envelope. A clerk was standing at the ready with a pen knife and cut the envelope open, handing the letters to his superior. Melville did not sit down to read, and after perusing the letter, turned to Tony.
“You have a coach waiting outside?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Very well. Harper, my coat! You’ll come along and direct the coachman to Downing Street. I must inform Lord Liverpool at once!”
Walking briskly, they climbed into the coach after a mere three minutes. The horses had rested for a few minutes, and under the direction of the clerk, Harper, carried them the short distance to Whitehall.
“Follow me, Gentlemen!” Melville ordered, and Tony realised that he would meet the Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool.
After all the urgency, the meeting itself was anticlimactic. Liverpool read the dispatch calmly, nodded, and read it again. Then he looked at Tony and at the cheaply uniformed Billingsley.
“I must thank you, Sir Anthony and Captain Billingsley, for your efforts to bring us this urgent warning. We must alert the Army Secretary, but also recall the Duke of Wellington from the Vienna Congress. Kindly keep this news to yourself until tomorrow.” He rang a bell and a solemn looking man appeared. “Wilkins, Sir Anthony Carter and Captain ... err ... Billingsley are the bearers of important reports. Find them comfortable quarters for the night.”
“Milord, I own a house in Camden Court. It is not fully staffed right now, but I can host Captain Billingsley.”
“That is kind of you, Sir Anthony. Your service is recognised.”
“Yes, indeed,” Melville nodded. “See me again tomorrow at noon at the Admiralty!”
“Aye-aye, milord,” Tony answered and ushered a fairly overwhelmed Billingsley to the exit.
A lesser clerk escorted them and promised to come along and direct the coachman to a stable where the horses would be looked after and where the exhausted driver could sleep. Thus, it was almost 10 pm, when Tony knocked on the door to his house, and the sleepy caretaker, Jane Orping, opened. Not much was available in the way of supper, but a fresh keg of ale was brought up from the cellar and breached, and by 11 pm, Tony and his guest were sleeping.
Orping must have woken shortly after midnight, because when Tony and his guest ventured downstairs at 7 am, the table in the dining room was richly laid. Clearly, the butcher had been roused from his sleep to provide Orping with smoked and cooked ham, to go with fried eggs and hashed potatoes. She had also brewed a coffee, and the chambermaid must have been tasked with polishing the earthenware and table silver to a shine. Orping was still nervous.
“Begging your pardon, Sir Anthony, but the grocer had no fresh milk or cream.”
“Well, we should have announced our visit two days ago, but we had urgent business. Given what little warning you had, this is a wonderful breakfast table. Isn’t it so, Captain?”
“Y-yes, Sir Anthony. I haven’t eaten this well in years. My steward must be the worst in the entire fleet.”
“One of the secrets to a happy life at sea is to find a good steward and never let him go,” Tony chuckled. “My man, Grimm, has been with me since my first command in ‘01, same as my cox’n.”
“You are to be envied, Sir Anthony. If I may, what does His Lordship want of us?”
“Not to raise any undue hopes, Captain, but I expect him to give you a reward for your diligence. It may be just a handshake, but it may also be your name in the next Gazette. The French and we may soon be at each other’s throats again, and even a short posting in a sixth-rate will set you on the path to your flag, and a man can live better on a captain’s half-pay should they apprehend Boney before he gets into too much mischief.”