H.M.S Valor

by Cal Clement

  Tim scanned the sea northward for the vessels that were following the Spirit. He could see the hull of a ship slicing the water in approach and panic began to grip his soul. Where were they others? Had they turned and fled? Cannon fire continued and the Spirit was taking a beating, each shot crashing its way through timbers and sending shards of wood flying in all directions. After some of the impacts screams of agony and fear could be heard rising from the bowels of the ship under barrage.

  “Why are they not returning fire?” Tim raged aloud.

  “It’s likely they don’t have enough men to by now.” Alton wheezed in reply.

  It burned Tim that he was bound in his circumstances to the pompous deposed official. Again, without possession of the payment for the Order, he was beholden to keeping Alton alive for his own sake. Once safely out of range from flying debris, the pair rested, bobbing along in the ocean current while the onslaught against the Spirit continued. Tim looked northward hoping to see the ship he had sighted swooping in to save them, but only found the empty darkness of the night and the sea. Helplessly they floated and waited, watching in horror as the vessel that had carried them into these waters was pummeled into a slow surrender and descent to the depths.

  H.M.S Endurance

  25 Sept 1808

  17 Degrees 24 minutes N, 76 Degrees 2’ W

  William startled from his sleep to the sound of drums beating. Drenched in a cold sweat he took a second to gather his bearings, his heart was racing, and his fists were clenched so hard his forearms ached. On the deck above him he could hear the pounding of footfalls as men scrambled to battle quarters. Will pulled himself from his hammock, struggling in the dark to dress himself when an urgent knock came at the cabin door.

  “Lieutenant Harper’s compliments Sir, he has requested your presence at the quarter deck,” a sailor outside informed.

  “What is going on? Have we sighted the Valor?” Will asked, springing the door open and hurrying toward the ladder well. The sailor took off behind him, struggling to match his pace.

  “An explosion, Sir. Miles to the south of us, flames were visible on the horizon and we’ve faintly heard some report from cannon fire. Not sure if it is the Valor, Sir,” the sailor answered.

  “Very well,” Will turned and sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. He arrived on the quarterdeck to find Lieutenant Harper looking through a telescope toward the southern horizon.

  “South by southwest of us Sir. It must have been a massive explosion to be heard this far away, followed by a ball of fire and now we’re hearing cannon fire intermittently.” Harper reported.

  “Very well, time on deck and winds?” Will asked.

  “Two bells in about a half turn Sir, winds still steady from the southwest.”

  “Damn if we’re sailing in at a disadvantage. Lieutenant about face her, we’ll beat our way west and turn south with the daylight. That should put us upwind from where the explosion was. If there is anything left, we can assess what happened,” said William. His voice felt surer than his mind, his decision almost instinctive.

  “Are we to break pursuit of the Valor then Sir?” Harper asked, lowering his voice slightly.

  “No lad, for all we know that could be the Valor circling around to gain the wind on us to attack at dawn. That Cobb is a dangerous man, left to his devices. He is clever and malicious, most would be happy to take the ship and escape, not him, I believe he won’t stop until he has put us on the bottom with every soul aboard.” Will replied.

  “Or we put him there.” Harper said.

  “Yes, well, that would be the idea. Let’s get to it then, it’s going to be a long day.” Will said looking over the log to determine their position.

  The bow of the Endurance swung around westward and Will took careful note of each cannon report his ears could detect. At first it seemed to be too slow and inconsistent for an exchange between two ships. Almost as if they were hearing the aftermath of a battle where one side was unrelentingly beating their enemy into shreds. Captains would often fire single guns and observe their effects carefully to conserve their valuable ammunition. One shot penetrating a ship’s magazine would effectively end an engagement. Though, if the outset of their engagement was an explosion, then why all the following cannon fire? Will carefully considered the possibilities he could be sailing into, also, bracing himself for the possibility that he had just broken pursuit of the Valor for something that could be completely unrelated. A thought of the American who had shot the Admiral crossed his mind and sent a twisting feeling through his stomach. If I cross paths with that man again, Will thought while gritting his teeth, he will die at my hands. His thoughts were interrupted by more cannon fire, this time though the shots were more rapid. Then another round of successive shots echoed in over the waves, snapping Will to an alert posture, it had to be return fire. The reports of cannon fire continued as the Endurance raced her way westward. The direction of the sounds aided Will in judging his relative location to the battle taking place.

  The early glow of dawn began creeping into the eastern sky when one of the lookouts cried down from the rigging.

  “Sail behind us, she looks to be fleeing northward!”

  Will looked out over the fantail, straining in the early light he could just barely distinguish the outline of a ship. They had no lanterns lit on deck and Will could not make out if they were flying national colors. He couldn’t even distinguish the class of ship he was seeing, it was smaller, maybe a brig, perhaps a frigate.

  “Helmsman come about southward, I don’t think she’s spotted us, but I don’t want our stern exposed if she has.” Will ordered, again he felt an unfamiliar confidence. His decisions felt more like finding a piece missing to a puzzle than they did carefully thought out and painstakingly weighed.

  “Another sail, following the first,” the lookout called down as the Endurance made her course change. Will looked again, scouring the space behind the first ship they had spotted. Sure enough, the silhouette of another ship followed along closely behind the first. The dawn grew in the east like a crescendo of light heralding the appearance of the sun and as the light increased every moment more details became visible from the deck of the Endurance. The ships fleeing toward the north were under full sail, even letting out auxiliary sails as Will examined them through his telescope. Neither ship made any indication of spotting the Endurance, their full attention seemed to be in a hasty retreat from the battle unfolding to the south.

  Boom! The thundering report of a cannon from the second ship startled everyone aboard the Endurance, including Will, nearly out of their skin. The rallying dawn showed a cloud of smoke drifting skyward from the bow of the second ship. She was firing her bow guns at the vessel in front of her!

  “Orders Sir?” Harper inquired with a look of dread.

  “We don’t know anything yet Lieutenant, hold fire and hold course. It’s a matter of time until they spot us, and we’ll be in the mix with the rest of them lad., Will replied.

  “Aye Sir. Do you think that is the Valor?” Harper pressed. Will could hear an edge of fear in his voice.

  “We can only hope lad. It would be a fitting end for Cobb to be taken unaware by a full broadside from this behemoth. Be sure the gun crews are all at the ready.”

  “Yes Sir!” Harper answered setting off at a near run.

  Will watched the ships through the intensifying light, neither appeared to be the Valor. The second ship was being commanded by a bold and aggressive man, Will noted, her bow guns were firing as rapidly as they could be loaded, and scoring some hits from the sounds he heard floating across the water. He scanned the length of the second ship as more detail became visible, she was a frigate and under full sail. “You’re damned determined to catch that bugger aren’t you boys?” Will said aloud. He scanned back forward looking over the fleeing ship, she was a brigantine and there were crewmen scurrying about the deck dealing with damage from the accurate fire of their pursu
ers. Will looked aloft in the rigging of the fleeing ship and felt a cold streak run up his spine when his eyes fixed on the colors of the fleeing ship. Over the stern of the brigantine flapping in the dawn breeze floated old glory, the American stars and stripes. Harper returned from below to report back,

  “All guns are run out and at the ready Sir.”

  “Very well Lieutenant.” Will answered without removing the telescope from his eye. He scanned back to examine the pursuing ship again. With better light he could now see her crew clearer and they appeared ragged, without uniform, but well led and orderly. Will’s heart fluttered as his eyes traced over the profile of the ship and then up the rigging at her stern. His vision caught their black banner as it fluttered in the wind, the hollow eyes of a fearsome horned skull seemed to burn right into his soul sending a stomach wrenching wave of anxiety and panic crashing over him. They fired their bow guns into the American again, prompting a creaking, groaning noise from the prey ship. The distinct crack of splitting wood could be heard slicing through the morning air and Will shifted his telescope back toward the American ship.

  “God Damn.” Will exclaimed as his sight lay on the American ship again.

  “What is it Sir?” Harper pressed, eager to know more detail.

  “They’ve taken out her aft mast with their bow chasers. Those gunners bloody well know what they are doing.” Will answered. Then he snapped the telescope shut and stepped back from the rail, “Helmsman bring her about two points larboard. Lieutenant Harper prepare to relay fire commands.” He ordered.

  “You intend to engage them Sir?” Harper stuttered.

  “I do, and hopefully overwhelm them with fire before they can answer now take your post Lieutenant, their stern will be exposed in minutes,” said Will, his patience running out.

  “Aye Sir,” Harper said, his face going paler with the turn of each event.

  Will had to wait only a moment for his course change to take effect and he was rewarded with the target profile of the pirate ship he had hoped for. It was something every commander strove for in combat, a shot encompassing her side and stern. With well-placed shots, her damage would be severe after even one full volley. Will’s mind wandered to the American man, the image that had haunted him all night, his grotesque smirk and his smoking pistol.

  “Lieutenant Harper, Fire!” Will called below.

  “FIRE!” Harper screamed the command out to the gun crews on the larboard battery.

  Both decks of guns opened fire, fourteen guns each, eighteen-pound guns on the top battery and twenty-four-pound guns on the bottom. The concussion was oppressive, hammering through the bones of every man aboard and rattling the ship. The smoke cloud took almost a full minute to clear and the damage inflicted on the pirate vessel was tremendous. Her fantail had taken several direct hits, as well as on her side. One large hole had been blown just above the waterline and with each wave she took on water. Screams floated up from her decks through the rigging. Will gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils as he recalled the exact feeling of what those souls were experiencing.

  “Fire at will!” he screamed down toward Harper.

  “Reloading Sir!” Harper replied back up, then turning to the gun crews, “Hurry lads, hurry, reload for your lives!”

  Will could hear the crews sounding off below. Commands he was all too familiar with. Then in rapid succession,

  “Gun one ready!”

  “Gun two ready!”

  “Gun three ready,” commands and replies were screamed and all down the line on both gun decks gun crews came back to the ready. Then only the slightest heartbeat of pause and Harper screamed again, “FIRE!” The volley reverberated through the ship, causing it to rock slightly sideways, tilting the masts from the forceful collective recoil from twenty-eight guns fired nearly simultaneously. As the smoke cleared from his vision, Will could see the carnage he had unleashed on the pirate ship. Her aft and main masts were broken and had fallen, ripping sails and rigging, sending men from aloft hurdling toward the deck and into the water. Her battery facing the Endurance was all but blown away, massive holes had been penetrated through her side level with her gun ports and on her fantail, Will could see they had scored a hit to her rudder.

  “She’s dead in the water boys!” Will cried out to a mass of shouts and cheers from the crew. “That one’s for Captain Grimes you bastards!” he yelled inciting another round of shouts and a roar of taunts and curses directed at the pirate ship. The shouts and jeers continued as the Endurance slipped past the rear of the pirate ship and Will examined her closely for any sign of continued defiance. As the ship’s starboard side came into view it became obvious that the crew was abandoning her as they were lowering the intact longboat over the side.

  “Shall we fire another volley Sir?” Lieutenant Harper asked, reappearing to Will’s side from below deck.

  “No. We’ve done her in, let the sea finish the deed,” answered Will as he shifted his focus over to the American ship. From his vantage on the quarter deck of the Endurance, he watched as the American sailors labored to recover their ship. When they noticed the pirates putting to sea in a longboat several of the Americans took up muskets and began firing on them. The pirates made a futile attempt at returning fire in their desperate attempt to escape, but the accurate fire from the Americans was too much to overcome. After a few volleys of fire, the longboat bobbed along lifelessly in the current of the sea.

  Will glanced over the longboat, limbs of the dead pirates protruded over the sides and its oars hung limp into the water. The sun rose higher into the morning sky revealing the scene of carnage in its bright and gory detail. The American ship slipped further north, having jettisoned their broken aft mast and resetting their sails.

  “Shall we pursue them Sir?” Shelton’s voice came over Will’s shoulder. Will turned quickly, seeing the young officer had emerged from the Admiral’s cabin.

  “Lieutenant, what are you doing up here? Are you well?” Will inquired with a concerned look.

  “Well enough Sir. Please don’t shove me back down into that cabin, I can’t stand it.” Shelton pleaded.

  “No, lad. No, if you are well enough, I’m happy to have you.” Will answered turning back toward the wreckage of their engagement, “As far as following the Americans, I don’t know to what end. We are still bound by the articles of war and I cannot engage a vessel flying colors of a nation we are not at war with, unless provoked.”

  “The man who shot the Admiral…” Shelton began.

  “We can’t know if he is on board, nor even if he has anything to do with that vessel. We could certainly follow them, but I don’t know if there would be any benefit to it. The Valor is still out there somewhere and there was another battle to our south and east. That would likely be a better course.” Will interrupted.

  “Something in that longboat Sir! Some cargo they didn’t want going down with the ship!” called down the aft lookout.

  Will stepped back toward the rail and extended his telescope. He could see nothing noteworthy in the longboat through tangled mass of perished. He handed his telescope over to Shelton, who looked through to the same result.

  “Mr. Shelton, you have the ship. See the longboats are readied, I’m taking a compliment of marines to investigate.” Will ordered, sending a wide smile across Lieutenant Shelton’s face.

  Drowned Maiden

  25 Sept 1808

  17 Degrees 14 minutes N, 76 Degrees 8’ W

  Smoke lingered over the water’s surface in the morning sun, spreading an eerie thin veil over a scattering of flotsam and bodies from the sunken vessels. Flames still smoldered on several pieces of floating debris, occasionally carrying their fire to slicks of floating whale oil. The barrage had lasted long into the night and a subsequent engagement with another of the American ships had garnered similar results. The crew of the Maiden greeted the new day with high spirits and tired eyes. Though she would rather be on the helm, Lilith stood on the bow with Chibs as a lo
okout while they moved through the wreckage. The Unholy Shepherd had taken after one of the fleeing American ships in the darkness and James announced with the daylight that they would sail north to rendezvous with their sister ship. The fatigued crew was weary to chance another battle so soon, cannon fire had been heard to the north of them and Lilith feared they could be sailing into an engagement with the American ship instead of a rendezvous with a victorious Shepherd. Chatter she overheard throughout the crew indicated that she was not alone in her fears.

  As the Maiden slid through the debris field Lilith looked over the wreckage. Burned and broken pieces of wood, shreds of sail, lengths of rope were all interspersed by the occasional floating body or body part. It was gut wrenching to the young woman to witness the carnage left in their aftermath. As they neared the edge of the debris, Lilith spotted a large man clinging to a broken barrel. She strained to see through the stinging smoke, but as her eyes found focus, she could see that he was clearly alive.

  “Chibs!” Lilith said, tugging on his shirt sleeve and pointing to the man in the water.

  “A survivor,” he grumbled, rubbing his whiskers, “We’ll haul the bugger aboard and see what he has to say for himself.”