Report

Battle for London, continued ... and in any case the Dutch and Danes would have been hard put to move their ships downriver against the prevailing winds from the east. Not that they seemed in a hurry to go home – a large number of Dutch troops (infantry and even some cavalry) were now encamped near the Elephant and Castle, with guard stations all along the river bank from Bermondsey to Battersea, but the main force had stayed on the left bank, next to the Wapping dock stairs. The Tower itself was now an island under siege. All bridges were destroyed. Barricade building had become the order of the day. From the Temple to Covent Garden and on to the British Museum, every street entrance anf thoroughfare was blocked by overturned carriages and carts, mixed with furniture of all kind. A red line, a thin line ... sporting nothing more deadly but a matched set of Hepplewaithe’s finest, but for the moment it kept the Danes at bay. This line was manned by the 2nd (holding) battalion of the Royal Marines, a regiment of the King’s German Legion (which had just chosen a bad time for its visit) and thousands of citizens. Even the Admiralty had sent a number of clerks that could apparently be spared from more urgent tasks (one wonders what they had done to deserve this). And of course the Guild members were out in full force – butchers, bakers and candlestick makers (to name just a few). Some of them had even brought their wives and kids. Between the sounds of a battle raging you could hear the occasional tinkle of a tea kettle and phrases like: ”May I have another bun, Mrs Greer, they’re delicious – oh, and a couple of musket balls?” or: ”After you with the powder horn, Mr. Gills!”. In some cases, the last thing a Dutchmann or a Dane reaching the top of the barricade saw was a slip of a girl perched there with a hatpin clutched in each fist and a calculating expression in her eyes ...!
And help was on the way. From Brighton, King Albert had dispatched half his Life Guards to London, but they ran into trouble as soon as they tried to report in - nobody knew exactly who was in overall command. The fact that several branches of the service were thrown together in a haphazard fashion caused a certain amount of friction. Things did not go well within the walls of the Admiralty. From the beginning, the First Sea Lord had maintained that since the first attack had come by sea he should give the orders (with the other senior officers acting as his ADCs). He was at once shouted down by the General of Royal Marines that he should be in charge, because they were not fighting ships but men. But the battle wasn’t fought at sea at all, interposed the most senior clerk of the Horse Guards present, it was fought on dry land and thus under army jurisdiction. My point exactly, shouted the C.O. of the Lifeguards, and my orders come directly from the King, hence I am in charge! This sordid squabbling went on for several hours, until an ADC of the King’s German Legion suggested that each regiment should fight as best it could, and trust the King to sort out the responsibilities later. To which they all agreed.
In the end, however, they had to let the First Sea Lord give the orders because the remaining Admiralty clerks would obey nobody else! The results were sometimes spectacular – the temper tantrum thrown by the head clerk of the third floor when ordered to hand over the only working stapler comes to mind – and in addition the dim lights and the adrenalin-charged atmosphere played hell with everybody’s temper. The old First Sea Lord was particularly afflicted because he had to spend long hours in the basement ... er, war room, which seriously affected his daily routine. However, his ingenious idea to colour code the paperclips used by each branch of the service earned him a life membership in the Guild of Thingamajig manufacturers and a whatchamacallit of 1,100 guineas. Not to be outdone, the two other Lords of the Admiralty (who had fled to the wine cellars under pretext of guarding the pipes of vintage port) appropriated themselves 1,200 and 1,100 guineas respectively out of the reptile funds to buy more Stilton cheese and walnuts – the Admiralty larder being suddenly and inexplicably devoid of either comestible! The admiral of the White squadron, who had diligently pared the First Sea Lord’s pencils during the strategy sessions was rewarded with 800 Guineas (presumably to buy new pencils), while the admiral of the Blue squadron who had invented the term ”war room” got 600 Guineas and orders to attend night classes in interior decorating. Sir Louis Beanpole ( vice admiral of the Red) got 600 guineas for services rendered and the only person who dared ask what kind of services these might have been was hurriedly promoted (from Rear admiral of the Red to Vice admiral of the White) and bundled off to Sir Rodney’s office, where he found 1,400 Guineas in unmarked bills of small denominations lying in the top desk drawer. Presumably Sir Rodney had intended to give them to his lawyer, but the trials have been postponed until September anyway.

Channel Battle, Take Two : The ships of the white and red squadron (except HMS Droits de L’Homme) had followed the Spaniards up the Channel towards Dieppe. Several of these ships (on both sides) had been badly mauled in the last encounter, and seeing that some Spaniards kept sagging to leeward, the captain of HMS Ferocious (the senior officer present) signalled the squadron to ”Make all possible sail” and ”Engage the enemy more closely”. A little later, HMS Ferocious got lucky with a ranging shot from her bow chaser which must have unsettled the rudder of the Don Christobal (the hindmost Spanish ship), because she flew up into the wind and wouldn’t steer small any more. In fact, she didn’t steer at all and HMS Ferocious had to take evasive action. The Spaniards tried to make repairs but she had a great number of soldiers on board and when both HMS Ferocious and HMS Richard Lionheart (which had come up on the larboard side) started to rak her deck with grape shot she soon struck her colours. For his decision to pursue the Spaniards, the captain of HMS Ferocious: was gazetted and given 1,400 Guineas, while her 2nd lieutenant was given 1,700 Guineas for his lucky shooting. The captain of HMS Richard Lionheart was mentioned as well and got 800 Guineas for the assist (and a cheer from the crew of HMS Ferocious), while her 2nd lieutenant was rewarded by ”being made” (promoted to Master & Commander and his first independent command – the Revenue Service cutter HMS Snoopy). The captain of HMS Richard Lionheart called for Tyler Brock and ordered him to take a look at the Spaniard’s books. Tyler’s commercial background enabled him to spot a number of small ironbound chests which the lading bill said contained dried figs from Mocha (famous for its coffee beans, but hardly for its figs) but were really full of diamonds! TB was promoted to midshipman on the spot and given 1,400 guineas to invest as he saw fit.
Meanwhile, HMS Sheik Yassouf and HMS Indomitable had captured another Spaniard. The Duena Esmeralda turned out to be a troop ship and carried a number of high-ranking officers. They were treated with the customary politeness and 2nd Lieutenant of HMS Sheik Yassouf was given 1,100 guineas for his adroitness in collecting their weapons, but the captain of HMS Indomitable had been to the Court a few years previously and recognized one of them as a newphew of the sister-in-law of the Prime Minister! This earned him a promotion to Rear admiral of the Red and 1,100 Guineas to buy a new uniform! His successor will be the captain of HMS Waakzamheit. WKM had to sleep on the deck because the Spaniards took over his cabin, but he was promoted to brevet Master’s mate for his troubles. A third Spaniard was caught almost in the mouth of Dieppe harbour, and it was a close run thing: HMS Jupiter on the port side and HMS Fiddler’s Green on the larboard side had grapples in the rigging of the Duchesa di Navarra and were in the process of boarding her, but the French hurriedly sent out gun boats. A lucky shot from one of these boats (which can manoeuvre against wind and tide and carry 36-pounders) can cripple a ship and HMS Fiddler’s Green didn’t have enough men to man her guns anyway. Things looked grim until HMS Swiftsure came up and made straight for the gun boats, threatening to ram them! In the end, the captain of HMS Jupiter got gazetted for his courage and was given a purse with 1,200 Guineas. The captain of HMS Fiddler’s Green was given 1,800 Guineas and her 2nd Lieutenant was given 1,500 Guineas, but neither was mentioned. Aboard HMS Swiftsure, loud and sustained cheering broke out when it became known that Guy Sandolls (who had personally taken the tiller at the critical moment) would be promoted to Master & Commander of HMS Swordfish! One can’t help wondering why they are that glad to get rid of him ...!?
Not to be outdone, the RM instigated a few changes of their own : The Lt.Colonel commanding the detachment aboard HMS Indomitable had been a little too careless and fell to a sniper bullet. His place will be taken by the former Major in charge aboard HMS Bellerophon, who won a promotion and 1,700 guineas in the Pipeclay Cup. Runner-up was the Captain formerly in charge of the detachment aboard HMS Halcyon, who got promoted as well and was ordered for HMS Bellerophon in turn. Looks like the chaps aboard HMS Halcyon will have to fend for themselves for a while, but perhaps not for long. New boy MAD was mentioned for being surprisingly quick (quick for a Marine, that is – in a competition of wits the most senile old gaffer at Bedlam would still run rings round him!).

Going to Gibraltar? ... The east winds also prevented the other squadrons from reaching their destination and after a week of beating up they decided to return to merry Old England instead. On their way they met several Spanish ships of the Line and a couple of frigates, looking for the missing Treasure Fleet. In these latitudes, winds from the east frequently produce a kind of fog and this would explain why fleets got mixed up, neither noticing the other until early in the morning. The Spaniards immediately began to fire at everything in sight (repeatedly at each other) when the Captain of HMS Waakzamheit had a bright idea and ordered every ship to hoist the Yellow Jack! This is one of the signals even a Dago understands without translation, and if there is one thing the Spaniards fear more than mad dogs and Englishmen it’s the fever! Three hour later, the Spanish ships were just specks on the horizon, and the British ships were celebrating (extra double tot of rum) because in their panic the Spaniards had left three ships behind which they thought to be contaminated – the Nuestra Senhora, Reconquista and Catalania - when a Admiralty cutter arrived with new orders: In recognition of his good conduct the captain of HMS Waakzamheit was given five minutes to pack his things and to go aboard the cutter, which would take him to HMS Indomitable. He would have preferred to have his own 2nd Lieutenant take over (he was gazetted for his part in the Yellow Jack affair) but the cutter had also brought Jack Sandwich to take command of her. The first thing JS did (after he had read himself in) was to study the ship’s log, where he found a succinct report of recent events. HMS Berwickshire chap captured the Nuestra Senhora and her captain had found rubies worth 1,900 Guineas in her strongroom. Her 1st Lieutenant had tried to jump aboard the Spanish ship and had misjudged the distance – the sharks got him and his widow gets his share of the prize money, about 1,700 guineas. Her 2nd Lieutenant was more lucky, he slipped on a banana peel and merely broke his leg – let us hope that 1,300 guineas and being gazetted will make for a speedy recovery. HMS Bellerophone fell foul of the Reconquista because a misunderstanding between her captain and her 2nd Lieutenant and now there is bad blood between them; In their wisdom, the Admiralty decided not to court-martial both but to promote the latter (he gets to comamnd another sloop, HMS Vercingetorix). The Reconquista was finally captured by HMS Mars, which earned her captain 500 Guineas. Both AG (1st Lt.) and PDA (master’s mate) were gazetted, AG for fumigating the lower decks in order to get rid of the overpowering smell of garlic and PDA for diving into the foulsmelling clouds in order to pick up a kitten and carry it to safety.
The Catalina was jointly captured by the remaining ships, and proved to be the best catch of the lot. The captain of HMS Glenmoranie picked up 1,100 Guineas and FF in HMS Belle Poule another 600 Guineas. On the other hand, three ships lost their 1st Lieutenants: HMS Salisbury, HMS Sauve Qui Peut and HMS Surprise! Two deaths, one promotion (command of Sloop HMS Cheshire Cat), about par for the course. But distant wings beat as JWK gets promoted to midshipman and gazetted.

Elsewhere ... the good ship La Poubelle crossed the equator and was visited in style by King Neptun and his entourage. JOG was at first reluctant to join in the spirit of the thing, but a neat pint of rum soon changed his mind, and he later excelled at making faces through a horse collar. He was mentioned for singing ”Auld Long Syne” in a reedy tenor voice long after lights out.

Issue 5 by J.C.

All at Sea.

The view from my lofty window in Ludgate is a strange one this month, with so many of our brave Gentlemen currently away from the capital there seems so little urgency in the city. I grant you that the merchantmen and traders are still crying their wares and the market at Smithfield (a short step from here) is as busy as ever, but it is almost as if the teacher is away and the class is studying quietly on its’ own, if you will forgive the analogy. However – I did say most of our brave Gentlemen but not all. Gazing out of my window this morning in search of inspiration I heard an uncommon sound for the time of the day - the noises that generally greet me are the sounds of the market, but the grumbling and muttering that I heard this morning had a distinctly different accent and edge to them. Curious, I hurried downstairs just in time to see the muttering figure disappearing up Ludgate Hill in the direction of St Paul’s. Calling after him I discovered it to be none other that Wayne Kin-Madley. Apparently he was fed up with being ignored by the Admiralty who, in his opinion, “Would be incapable of organising a drinks soiree in a Gentlemen’s Club”, and had decided that he would take matters into his own hands and was “going to visit all the bally recruiting offices in turn until one of them let’s me on board a ship. I will do my duty by the King come hell or high water”. He had already visited the office of the Royal Marines and the Captain of the Sheik Yassouf but to no avail, and was now on his way to an appointment with the Captain of HMS Indomitable. We here at the Gazette wish him the best of luck and look forward to hearing more of his seafaring exploits in the Naval Report pages.

Returning to the office I found a boy waiting outside with a letter for me. It had been handed to him by an officer on board a Merchantman, which had docked that very morning. Apparently he had received it from an East India ship when they passed at sea some few days before. Dropping the boy a coin for his trouble I hurried upstairs to read the first instalment of John O’Groats’ Diary, which I am honoured to publish in it’s entirety here:

Johns Diary

Day one
Well luv a duck I managed to get a berth on one of those fine EIM types, quite a nice ship it is as well. Settled in nicely crew seem a decent lot, although why we need 4 cabin boys is beyond me, although one of the more experienced lads said "wait'n see young John" and winked at me, I have no idea what he means?
Left London on the tide was amazed to see all the nice girlies from the south bank turn up to wave good bye, they even was waving some very fine hankies, odd colours tho, fair brought a tear to me eye it did I can tell ya. Me mother would burst wiv pride if I brought one of those home and said I was gonna marry her! Out at sea soon so I better get to me post write later...

Day two
Very quiet every one settled into routine, officers seem a decent bunch, only whipped one sailor so far, for not showing the proper respect to the Captain...

Day three
Quiet again....

Day four
Same again, decided to only write when summat exciting happens....

Day Twenty
Bloody ell ran into some of those Spanish ships we have had to make a run for it. Captain seems confident about us making a safe haven, rest of the crew think we all doomed, especially Jock who keeps saying "we're all doomed I tell ya, all doomed" Decided to take a bet that we would sight British warships before long, dam if all the crew did not take the bet, I hope we do other wise my wages for the next 3 months are gone....

Day Twenty one
The Lord be praised we sighted what appeared to be British men O' wars on the horizon, the captain has changed course towards them, gonna be close, but it looks like I am a rich man for now. (Note to self, put some money away so I can visit Wood boat Annie on Southside when I get back)
Rest of crew now want me to wager on the outcome of the battle, I says no, which has resulted in a few threats, but I held my ground, I am not that simple.

Later that day...
Well that was a close run thing but we won, the lads are fair chuffed, although some are still peeved wiv me for winning, I have hidden me winnings where no son of a ... oh got to go Bosun is shouting for me we off again, will write more later...

Further instalments will, of course, be published in The Gazette.

Gentlemen of The Admiralty,
Despite my entreaties to you last month, you have not only failed to find me a berth on one of His Majesty's ships but have not even had the courtesy to respond to me. I have therefore felt it necessary to take matters into my own hands and expect to be serving His Majesty by the time you read this.
I hope you are able to conduct a war in a better manner than you treat your sailors.
Wayne Kin-Madely

Sir Rodney, Vice admiral of the White, will face court martial in September, upon the charge of deserting his post of duty while under attack.
Captain N6 of HMS Droits de L’Homme will face court martial in September, upon the charge of neglecting his duty by loitering ashore.

First call for E.I.C. Shangri-La to the Far East, sailing date 1st of September 1791. Applications for the position of captain welcome.