On the King's Sea Service: A John Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 1) by Richard Testrake Page A

wardroom, noticed signal flags flying from the Thunderer, with Exeter’s number prominent. With no one from the signal crew on the quarterdeck, the outraged officer screamed for Mullins who was meditating up forward in the heads. The signal yeoman, who had been nattering with one of his friends jumped to his station, read the signal from memory and reported to the first officer, “Signal to Exeter and Bulldog, ‘Captains repair on board’.”
    Phillips had heard the exchange while in his cabin and was now on deck in his new coat and a decent hat, a report on his failed mission with Viscount Fitzhugh under his boat cloak. He ordered, “Get an acknowledgement hoisted and the launch lowered.”
    The Bulldog with a more alert signal crew had beaten him to the flag by a good five minutes. Phillips climbed the side of the line of battle ship and saluted Captain Astor to the twittering of boatswain’s pipes and the stamp of Marines. A rotund lieutenant in a rather ancient uniform was standing beside the captain and Phillips guessed this was the gun brig’s captain.
    Astor ushered them both to his quarters and his servant put glasses of wine in their hands. While his captains were sampling the wine, Astor looked briefly over Phillip’s documents. He expressed his condolences over the death of the Viscount. “You say the French knew about our plans, all along?”
    “Yes sir, According to a French officer we captured, the friend of the Viscount was captured early on. He penned those letters to Lord Fitzhugh at the command of the French political officials in this district. When this friend refused to write any more letters, he was executed forthwith.”
    “Dreadful business. Do you still have the weapons you were to deliver?”
    “Yes sir, they were never landed. Apparently the trap was sprung early. Presumably because the Viscount was met by French soldiers, rather than the partisan he expected. It was pure carelessness on their part. We captured four of the French army’s field guns, about four pounders. We eliminated their crews with grape. The gun carriages were damaged too badly, so we burned them as well as their limbers. Those horses still alive were sacrificed. The guns were brought aboard ship.”
    “Well, I am dreadfully sorry for the loss of the Viscount and his people but the success of this mission was never counted upon. Coming to other matters. I would like you to meet Lieutenant Drummond, commanding Bulldog, of sixteen guns.” During the ensuing conversation, Phillips learned the Bulldog was fresh out of ordinary and the new officer, Drummond, was right off many years on the beach.
    “Gentlemen”, Captain offered, “I have just learned from orders delivered to me a few moments ago by Captain Drummond, that I will be the Commodore of this band of Merry Men.”
    “I have not yet told my first lieutenant, so you will have to wait a bit to view my broad pendant. However, I do want to explain my wishes to you without further delay. Thus far, the French fleet has not honored us by making an appearance. Perhaps they are in the same straits as us, attempting to get old, worn out ships from ordinary and to find trained seamen from wherever they have taken themselves.”
    “Whatever the reason, it is our duty to make their efforts as difficult as possible. Their coast roads are in deplorable condition and they will find it much easier to transport men, provisions and materiel by coastal shipping rather than by foot or wagon.”
    “Captain Drummond, you may not know as yet, that Captain Phillips has recently made a pretty penny for himself and his crew by capturing a brig that was hiding in a small bay north of here.”
    “The brig’s captain apparently thought he was safe, since the bay was guarded by a battery of four eighteen pounders. Captain Phillips sent a landing party ashore at the next inlet and his people marched along the coastal road and attacked the battery from the rear. After his party secured