The Rescue

by Perry Comer

  Hornet, barely making steerage, turned just enough to loose off her starboard broadside, each shot battering the damaged sloop's hull.

  “Mister Ashcroft, secure the gun!” Donland shouted.

  The American sloop had lost all her way and sat helpless. She was listing even more as Stinger bumped alongside. Hornet was lowering her boats to assist Stinger in taking the American.

  Donland wanted to shout, “belay” but it would be wasted breath. They had achieved what he intended, the battered sloop would sink and no longer to be a threat. Boarding was an act of idiocy.

  More men were leaping from the sloop's deck. They did not want to face the boarding party and saw no need to die a useless death. It pleased Donland that they chose the water for by so doing the odds for Stinger's company was diminishing.

  He could only watch as Hornet's boats make for the stricken sloop. To his amazement, they began pulling men from the water. He took up his glass and focused on the nearest boat. What he saw surprised him, a man wearing the blue coat of an English officer was hauled aboard and it appeared another was in the water. Jackson's action made sense, he thought he was rescuing British officers. “Aye, I pray it is so,” he said.

  The American sloop appeared to be filling fast. Already Donland could see the whole of her deck. Powell, if he had thrown grapples across to her, had best be cutting them loose. Else, when she when under she'd drag Stinger with her.

  More men leaped for the water. There was no fight left in them or aboard the sinking vessel. Donland watched as a boat came from around her bow. It was soon followed by a second. Powell had not chosen to board but instead had launched boats to pick up survivors.

  Almost as in slow motion the sloop, now no more than a hulk began to tilt steeply. Then she was on her side and began sliding under the water. The sun was well clear of the horizon and blindingly bright as she descended to the bottom.

  Donland watched but showed no emotion. Many had lost their lives to the privateer and those aboard paid with their lives for treachery. He looked upon pirates as scum and privateers as no better. “An end,” he said and turned back to the guns.

  “Mister Allen what of our wounded?” He asked.

  “Three dead Captain and eight with wounds, four of which are more than I can manage. Have you a surgeon?”

  “No Mister Allen, we've no surgeon. Have them all taken down to the hulk, there are two boats. The men on the hulk can be best used as crews for the boats. Get the wounded across to Hornet, then bury the dead,” Donland ordered.

  “Aye Captain,” Allen answered.

  Donland turned to Richards, “What of the damaged gun, can it be repaired?”

  “The gun itself is undamaged but the carriage will require a craftsman to repair,” Richards assessed.

  Donland had made up his mind even before the fight had begun as to what he would do if they were successful. “We shall remain here for the remainder of this day and the night. I believe there are two other guns and carriages in that hulk. Take a sufficient party of men and haul up a carriage and fit it to the damaged gun. Take care to do no more damage to the vessel as you haul it up. I shall inspect the ketch to see whether or not she can be re-floated.”

  “Aye Captain,” Richards answered. The young officer hesitated and said, “Sir, I've no ship.”

  Donland smiled reassuringly and said, “Not at present Mister Richards, not at present, but yonder lies a vessel that may or may not sail again. If she is repaired, she will need a captain and crew. See to your duty Mister Richards and fear not for your future.”

  “Beg pardon Captain,” Dawkins said as he approached. “What shall I do with the four for punishment?”

  “Mister Richards,” Donland called. “The bo'sm has four men for you. See that they do the bulk of the work.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Richards answered.

  “Mister Ashcroft!” Donland called. “Bring four men and go with me!”

  “Aye Captain,” Ashcroft answered and called off the names of four men.

  The Dutch built ketch sat on the sand ten yards or so from the beach. Donland waded out to her and climbed up her side. The deck was a confusion of lines, tackles, broken planking and loose sail. He made his way to the hatch and went down. The light from the hatchway revealed water sloshing about in her hold. There was little more to see below, the rest of the inspection would require a boat.

  “Mister Ashcroft set this deck to rights. Remove all that you can and store it on the island. I'll send a boat to you,”

  “Aye Captain,” Ashcroft answered.

  Allen was loading the wounded into boats as Donland reached the beach. “Return with both boats Mister Allen,” Donland ordered. “Once you are aboard Hornet, my compliments to Mister Jackson and tell him he is to come ashore. Then signal Stinger for her captain to come ashore.”

  “Aye Captain,” Allen answered.

  Chapter Six

  Donland waited in the shade as his orders were carried out. He was so tired that he dozed off.

  “Beg pardon Captain,” Honest said as he gently shook Donland's shoulder. “Captain Powell is coming across.”

  Donland lifted his head and sat upright. He opened his eyes then tightly closed them. When he opened his eyes the bright glare caused him to wince. He shaded his eyes to allow them to adjust. He had not realized how exhausted he was. Powell strode across the sand toward him. He managed to stand.

  “Well done Captain Donland,” Powell said as he neared the shade.

  “It is I who should congratulate you, your task was far more difficult than mine. You were the wily fox that managed to lead the hounds on a chase that eventually led to their disaster. I confess, I feared for you for the hound had very sharp teeth,” Donland said.

  “The hound was a fool,” Powell answered back.

  “I'm sorry I have nothing to offer in the way of refreshments,” Donland apologized.

  “I've need of none,” Powell said as he moved out of the sun.

  Curiosity had its way with Donland so he asked, “How was the hound the fool?”

  “He could have easily hulled Stinger as we tacked to return. He guessed right about my intention to tack but assumed I would come round and brace him. Stinger was, at that point, well within range of his guns. It was my opinion at the time that he wanted to disable rather than sink, take Stinger a prize, a trophy. But, I did not come fully round, only just far enough to catch the full force of the prevailing winds. From that point on, Stinger held the wind and out-paced him. Where it not for your orders to goad him, Stinger would not have been in range of his guns again. He did hit the transom once; no real damage but it gave me the opportunity to goad him all the more. I ordered some useless tackle, canvas and old casks over the side. Then night came on, I showed no lights nor did he. There was light cloud overhead most of the night and no moon. I had more than one opportunity to slip away or to challenge him. No doubt he was afraid I'd send boats and attempt to take him. I admit, I'd given it thought but your orders were to lead him and arrive at dawn.”

  “Aye, and you did well,” Donland said.

  “A mite earlier than you wanted, but I had no doubt you were ready with a warm welcome no matter the hour,” Powell mused.

  “And Stinger, damage?” Donland inquired.

  “Unfortunately, a total of nine dead and eighteen wounded. There's damage below the waterline and considerable damage to rigging. I've got men on the pumps and my carpenter says he'll have the shot-hole plugged and the leaks stopped in a day and a half.”

  “My report will reflect highly on you and Stinger. You have done admirably and were it not for your diligence we've not fulfilled our orders. That being said, we will remain here through the night to make and mend. Also, I will inspect the ketch to see if she can be set to rights,” Donland said.

  “Aye, it will not be wasted time. Stinger should be ready to sail in two days.” Powell said then asked, “What of the guns yonder?”

  “There are actually fo
ur long nines, two are still in the ketch's hold. Have you a thought?” Donland asked.

  “To face the likes of Dolphin again, I'd bargain with the Devil to have at least one for a bow chaser,” Powell said with a grin.

  “Aye, and two would be better,” Donland said watching Powell's face.

  “Aye, but what of the Admiralty?” Powell inquired.

  “Leave that to my report. Two for Stinger and two for Hornet, but mind you, one has a damaged carriage and will require a craftsman.”

  “I've the man,” Powell said with a smile. “I'll have to shift her ballast to enhance her trim.”

  “It'll not be a bother, better to have the fire-power than a quarter-knot of speed.”

  “Aye,” Powell agreed.

  Donland waited as the boat bearing Jackson neared the beach. He said to Powell, “I'm to ascertain the damage to the ketch. Once done, I'll know whether to burn her or float her. If she can be of use I will send for your carpenter and his mates.”

  “Aye, but not until he has seen to Stinger's needs,” Powell said.

  “Agreed,” Donland said then added,” Our stay here may be prolonged if she can be salvaged.”

  “Aye,” Powell said. “Shall I return to Stinger?”

  “Aye,” Donland said and put out his hand. “I am genuinely glad for your survival and success.”

  Powell took the offered hand. “And I of yours, you've given me great opportunity and I'm in your debt.”

  “Let us not speak of debt but rather friendship,” Donland said as he released Powell's hand.

  A seaman followed Jackson up the beach to where Donland waited. As Jackson passed Powell, he spoke and saluted.

  “What have you, Mister Jackson?” Donland asked.

  “A bit of food and a bottle of wine, I thought you might be in need of refreshment,” Jackson answered.

  “Aye, it'll not come amiss and is well received, I assure you,” Donland replied. He asked, “What of Hornet?”

  “Minor damages, no deaths, and only six men injured but none fearful of death,” Jackson answered.

  “Well done, I'd had my concerns. Now, why I've sent for you, we'll look to the ketch as to whether to float her or burn her.”

  Jackson nodded. “You've been aboard?” he asked.

  “Aye, good amount of water in her hold. I've tasked Lieutenant Richards with swaying her cargo up and to the beach. Captain Powell and I agree the guns she carried will be fitting for Stinger and Hornet as bow chasers. I will task Lieutenant Ashcroft with fitting the guns aboard Hornet. If the ketch can be mending, I should need you to supervise.”

  “Have you thought as to who'll command the prize if she floats?” Jackson asked.

  “Aye, I should think Richards as I've no one to spare,” Donland answered.

  “Perhaps we've another, a Lieutenant Monroe late of a captured packet. We fished him from the water when Dolphin was going under.”

  “Prisoner?” Donland asked.

  “Aye, he, midshipmen and an army lieutenant. That's Monroe yonder with the boats,” Jackson said and pointed.

  Donland sighed, “I should interview him but before I do what of the others from the sea?”

  “Four more died from wounds. Forty-seven remain and most likely three of them, the severely wounded will die before dawn. Spaniards, islanders, Bermudans; not a single one admits to having ties with the Americans. None I'd care to sign aboard,” Jackson answered.

  Donland nodded.

  Jackson smiled and there was a devilish glint in his eye. “You may find it interesting that Dolphin's captain, a man named Scoggins, had been a lieutenant, served in the Benbow and was cashiered for abusing a midshipman. He came to New York and courted the daughter of a banker, didn't marry her.”

  “And that's important, how?” Donland asked.

  Jackson grinned, then wiped his mouth. “The banker and his mates, more bankers, formed a syndicate to build ships, arm them and pay their captains. Once manned, the syndicate sought and gained letters of marquee. Captured vessels and cargoes were sold through agents in San Juan. Scoggins had only a crew of eighty-six when he chased Stinger. He'd sent three prize crews on to San Juan and had not we braced him he'd sailed there for more crew and supplies. As it were, he thought he was chasing Hornet and not Stinger.”

  “He was confident he could take either separately,” Donland mused.

  “Aye, and he never suspected the trap. His third officer, name of Owens, said that Scoggins was keen on taking or sinking every King's ship he could. Hard-headed, angry man is how Owens described him.”

  “What of this Owens?”

  “Claims he's English, son of a merchant trader in Guadeloupe.”

  “I may hold him and turn him over to Sumerton to interview,” Donland said then asked, “What of the lieutenant and the midshipmen pulled from the water?”

  “Monroe, as I said, commanded a packet. The young gentlemen served under him. And, the army lieutenant is named Watson. He was aboard the packet. Scoggins was holding the lot to ransom.”

  “Anything else?” Donland asked.

  “Will we be putting to sea before nightfall?” Jackson asked.

  “Two days at the earliest,” Donland answered.

  “Aye, then I shall inform Mister Dewitt. He's wanting to go ashore and stretch his legs a bit,”

  “There's time if he chooses to do so,” Donland answered.

  “I shall have the wine now, go down and bring Lieutenant Monroe if you please.”

  “Aye Captain,” Jackson said and started off.

  Monroe was a tall lanky man. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, old for a lieutenant. “Would you care for wine?” Donland asked.

  “Thank you, Captain but no. I'd take some water,” Monroe answered.

  “How long were you aboard Dolphin?” Donland asked naming the American sloop.

  “Three weeks Sir,” Monroe answered then sipped the water.

  “Had you conversations with her captain?”

  “Just the once when we were taken, no more than five minutes. The remainder of my time aboard was spent locked in a hold with the others.”

  Donland studied the lieutenant for several long seconds as he held the glass of wine to his lips. The man would not volunteer information; it was understandable. There would be a court of inquiry for having lost his ship.

  Donland decided it was best if he braced the man, “Mister Monroe, I've reports to write, some of which will either bear favorably on you or not. The choice will be yours. England and the Admiralty are a long way from here, and our masters know little of me or of you. The only information they receive about what we do and how we do is what is written. You will, when time allows, write your own reports and I'm sure you will be careful to state events in such a way as to reflect favorably on yourself and your decisions. It is not my purpose to report on your conduct or decisions in an unfavorable way, to the contrary, I will state facts only and not opinion. I've no need to harm you. The lost of your vessel is not my concern, nor is your conduct aboard Dolphin. I have information that Captain Scoggins and Dolphin were privateers funded by a syndicate of New York bankers. Have you information concerning other privateers, where prizes were taken or what becomes of our officers that are taken?”

  Monroe studied Donland then drank from the dipper. “What I was told, by those who overheard, was that Dolphin was bound for a port near San Juan. There, we were to be imprisoned with other English officers. Those of value would be held for ransom and those without value would be traded for prisoners held by the Crown. I told Scoggins, when he asked, that my father was a clergyman, which is of course true. He sent me to sea when I told him that I had no interest in the church.”

  “Is the King's service not to your liking either?” Donland asked.

  “To be truthful, only as long as I've my own deck beneath my heels,” Monroe answered.

  “That I understand,” Donland said. “But tell me of your experiences before the packet.”

>   Monroe's face grimaced. “Midshipman in a frigate, then a seventy-four, sat for lieutenant twice and served under Captain Hugh Pigot in the Success. I found myself on the beach while Pigot was facing court-martial. I was a witness for the Crown, but never testified for I was offered the packet Atross to command and was at sea before night fell.”

  Donland understood the man’s caution as well as his being tight-lipped. Pigot was hacked to death by his crew. The man had been a tyrant, a bully and worst of all one, when confronted with his deeds, laid the blame to others. Monroe had just cause to be a man of few words.

  “Will you return to service?”

  “Doubtful considering the loss of my command, I'm not likely to gain another and I'd not accept an appointment aboard another,” Monroe answered.

  Donland looked away from Monroe and studied the ketch. He turned back, “I intend to repair the ketch if possible, if not then I will sail for Savannah where I am to report.”

  Monroe nodded but said nothing.

  “Join me, we shall inspect the ketch,” Donland said.

  Again, Monroe did not reply but did follow.

  Aboard the ketch, Richards stood over the lip of the hold looking down as men waded in the water. A heavy line was rigged to a sail boom to use as a hoist. The end of the line was wrapped around the capstan. David stood across the hold from Richards.

  “Mister Welles have the men to tighten the line,” Richards said while still peering below.

  “Aye sir,” David answered and called to the men at the capstan, “Take up the slack!”

  Donland leaned over the side of the boat attempting to see the shot hole in the ketch's hull. The water was clear but the hole was distorted. It was the only visible hole in the hull but it was enough to sink the vessel. “What do you make of it Mister Jackson?” Donland asked.

  “Could be worse, won't know until we can see her timbers,” Jackson stated.

  “Aye,” Donland agreed. “We will continue to lighten her and then patch the hole. Once she's pumped we'll know if we can proceed.”

  “Heave!” Donland heard David shout to the men at the capstan.