Mister Harding went aboard the stricken vessel but returned, saying it would be doubtful if she could reach port. Even if she did, it would likely be more costly to repair her than buy a new schooner of similar size. In such circumstances, Phillips decided to destroy the vessel. He was not thrilled about putting the entire crew of the schooner on board Andromeda, but the schooner had only two boats surviving, both towing behind. There was insufficient capacity in the boats to take the entire crew.
In the end, the schooner’s remaining boats were filled with as many of her crew as they could hold, provided with ship’s biscuit, water and a chart and compass. The men were given a course to steer to reach port, and sent on their way. The remainder were placed up front in Andromeda’s forecastle and guards placed on them to keep them from trouble. Slow match was laid to the powder magazine of the former privateer, then lit. An hour later, the crew of Andromeda watched the crippled vessel erupt in smoke and fire from a mile away.
With seventy angry men up in the bows of Andromeda, Phillips was not enthused about resuming his patrol with them aboard, so the ship closed on an off-shore island to the north of Philadelphia and put over a boat with an officer. Anchored in six fathoms, Phillips waited impatiently for the boat to return. On this coast, should the wind turn, the ship could find herself in serious trouble indeed. Every glass on the quarterdeck was trained on the shore party, and there was obvious relief when they returned to the boat and pulled back out.
Phillips waited on the quarterdeck until Mister Darby boarded. He reported the shore was deserted with no sign of immediate life, although there seemed to be a village of some sort to the south. If they landed the prisoners here, they should be able to reach help within a few hours.
Accordingly the prisoners were brought up from below and loaded into the launch, a boat load at a time. Before leaving, Phillips showed the captain of the former privateer a chart and the information of the village down the coast.
Each man before leaving the ship was allowed to drink as much water as he wished from the scuttle butt and given two ship’s biscuits. As soon as the launch returned from delivering the last load of men, Andromeda pulled up her anchor and left.
This last capture had not been very profitable to them but at least they had removed another predator from the sea. Granted, they had returned the crew to their own country to resume their privateering, if that was their intention. Perhaps some of the actual seamen would indeed do that, but Phillips knew many, if not most, of the crew were laborers and landsmen, who had just been hoping to earn some easy money. The lesson they had just learned might show them there were easier wages that could be earned on land.
Proceeding to sea, Andromeda cruised off the coast for a few days without finding anything of note. Sailing eastward, then southerly, the main lookout spotted a sail farther out. As she closed on the sail, another came into view. Eventually the second sighting proved to be HMS Tenedos. Phillips ordered Andromeda’s number flown. Tenedos had her number up as well as signal flags that could not be immediately read because of the distance.
The first sighting was a mystery however. Whatever it was it could be, it certainly was a big one. “Perhaps”, Phillips reasoned, “it was an Indiaman.”
Mister Wilson was the signal officer and Mister Bentley was his deputy. Both had young eyes and approached their captain, assuring him they had deciphered the signal from Tenedos. The signal was reported to be “Enemy in Sight’.
Andromeda repeated the signal. Then another was hoisted aboard Tenedos. ‘Engage the Enemy’.
Acknowledging, the post ship beat to quarters and made for the enemy. As they closed, Mister Harding approached with his glass in his hand. “Sir”, he reported. I have seen that sail before in the Med. She is the United States frigate Constitution, likely a tough nut to crack.”
“Well, Mister Harding, Tenedos is offshore of her and between the pair of us, I believe we can do our duty.
As Andromeda closed however, the wind began to drop, and it was seen Tenedos was having a difficult time closing the big enemy. Apparently she was in an area of light and fitful winds and was having trouble keeping her sails filled. The big American was having no such difficulty, perhaps because her tops were so much higher. She had set her royals and was making a wake.
With Tenedos now flying the signal, ‘Engage the enemy more closely!’ Phillips was in a quandary. The captain of Tenedos was senior to him and was well entitled to give him orders, especially in these circumstances. However, if there were to be any chance of victory in the forthcoming action, Tenedos would have to be involved. Andromeda could not hope to overcome the big American unless the thirty-eight gunned fifth rate could play a leading part. But, orders were orders.
Regardless of present circumstances, if he shied away from the action, he could expect to be hauled in front of a court on charges of cowardice, possibly losing his commission.
With guns run out, Andromeda continued her approach. At long gun range, she attempted to cross in front of Constitution, hoping to bow rake the huge ship. A successful shot just might possibly bring down some gear that might allow Tenedos to catch up. This did not happen. Phillips could see no results of their broadside, although one of the Constitution’s bow guns placed a heavy ball through their lee beam, generating shouts from below as men were skewered with oaken splinters.
Deciding this was not the best way for him to fight the behemoth, he put his ship before the wind with Constitution chasing. This too had its dangers. With its taller sail plan, the enemy could get the stronger winds aloft, and even though massively heavier, could still outsail Andromeda.
At his wit’s end, Phillips trained his glass on Tenedos, to see if she had any more orders. She did not, but at least was no longer telling him to close the enemy.
Dangerously close to Constitution, Phillips had a pair of twelve pounder guns sent aft, pointed out of his own stern windows. Normally, the ship carried no stern chasers, since the guns were more important on the broadside. In this case, with a heavy ship they could not safely face coming up in their wake, these guns were the only weapons he could strike with. The gunner and his crew worked feverishly to rig the new breeching tackle.
While the crews were getting all ready, Mister Daniels, their Marine lieutenant, approached and volunteered to captain a gun. Knowing Daniels had a keen eye, he accepted and also ordered Thomas Lane aft to captain the other gun. Lane had captained Number Six gun on this voyage and Phillips knew him to be a careful man and as liable as the next man to make his shots count. He had done exemplary service with Miss Humphries and he wished to give the fellow added responsibility.
The Constitution was following in their wake, slowly gaining. She had not fired recently. To do so would require her to veer away to one side or another, in able to fire the foremost guns. This, of course, would cause the pursuer to fall back every time she swerved. Evidently her captain was content to bide his time and come up alongside where there could be no question of victory.
As the gunner pronounced the first gun secured, the gun crew began their drill. The flintlock had already been mounted on the breech, and the tompion had been removed earlier. A charge was inserted into the barrel and rammed home. A wad followed and the ball was rolled in. Another wad was rammed down on the ball to keep it from rolling out, then Mister Daniels took a gunner’s pick and probed down through the vent and punctured the cartridge. A quill charged with priming powder was thrust down the vent into the charge and Daniels ordered the gun run out.
Glancing to see that everyone was clear of the gun and carriage, he grasped the lanyard and sighted down the barrel at the enemy, making certain he stood behind a chalk mark the gunner had made on the deck. The weight of the two guns had depressed the stern a bit, and the quoin appeared to be inserted improperly. With the muzzle pointing low, it should be raised a bit by pulling out the quoin. Not wanting to delay the shot until the matter was corrected, he merely waited until the stern lifted on a wave and then
pulled the lanyard. With the roar of the gun and the violent recoil to the rear, Daniels faced the merest instant of terror as the monstrous mass of iron and oak slammed back to within few inches from his body before it was stopped by the breeching cables.
A cheer roared forth from the mouths of a hundred men as the ball was seen to impact her hull near her cutwater. This was a sensitive place on a ship, since a sprung plank could be the very devil to repair at sea. No sooner than the roar died down when the second gun fired. This also impacted the American’s forward hull, and Phillips wondered how much longer the big ship would withstand this abuse before she came about and fired off her broadside.
If her gun crews were well worked up, that could well end the fight in an instant.
Now the wind was being fickle. Earlier, it had favored Constitution, but now it seemed to wish to humor Andromeda. She slowly began to draw away. A quick glance to Tenedos showed her hull down. That ship was not going to have an opportunity to influence the action.
Daniels fired again. With his quoin placed properly, the gun fired, high this time. Phillips would have advised against this shot, since it was aimed at the rigging, and it would be a very lucky shot to cause any damage with a single gun. Lucky it was though, since the shot clipped the topmast and put a substantial notch in it. Nothing fell away, but the spar was weakened. Constitution’s captain, perhaps fearing the topmast might fail, sent topmen up to reduce sail to reduce the strain on the spar.
Lane fired his ball into the forward hull again, and now Constitution’s yards began to swing around. The big ship was turning to port. Soon those twenty four pounder long guns would open on him. She also had a quantity of thirty two pounder carronades, but Phillips did not fear them overmuch at this stage of the game. He thought Constitution was just far enough away to limit the effect of those guns.
With Constitution turning to port, Phillips ordered Andromeda to do the same. He definitely did not want Constitution across his stern, firing all her guns right up Andromeda’s arse. Constitution fired off a pair of her forward starboard twenty four pounders, putting a heavy ball into the wardroom, causing dreadful damage as it ranged forward. The first officer sent a party below to assist the carpenter in case he had any serious damage to contend with. Again and again the two ships exchanged blows, as they raced through the seas. The pair of guns at the stern became so hot, they were jumping from the deck, and Phillips ordered the charges reduced.
Their own ship was being gradually reduced to wreckage as the hull was being shot to pieces beneath them, especially the stern. The rudder mountings had been badly damaged and Phillips wondered how much longer they would have it. Fortunately, nothing important aloft had been hurt enough to slow them. Constitution, hampered by the crippling of her foremast, was slowly losing ground, and by nightfall it was apparent Andromeda was going to escape.
Tenedos had long since been left behind beneath the horizon, and with his crippled ship, Phillips had no desire to search for her.
A conference in the middle of night with his carpenter, the sailing master and first officer revealed the ship must make some important repairs before she could safely face the rigors of the open sea. The Constitution now far behind them in the dark, Andromeda turned toward land. It was necessary first to insure they were out of sight of Constitution by first light, then they must find a secure refuge to make repairs.
The masthead lookouts were sent up early, and all awaited the first reports. “Land ahead!” was announced, and there, well ahead, was a desolate looking shore. With no sign of any other shipping, Andromeda followed the shoreline. Mister Harding came up with a chart of these lands and indicated what he thought was their proximate position.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
They were apparently following a long, off-shore island. There was no hope of safety on this low-lying coast, but eventually, the island ended, and another began a mile ahead of them. Harding did not trust the chart, so the launch was put over the side and the boat crew took her ahead to check the depths. Proceeding slowly, with the depths sounded as they went, the ship moved along under her reefed tops’ls. Once through the channel between the two islands, they were in a passageway between the mainland and the next barrier island. Crawling along, with the ship’s keel sometimes just feet above the bottom, they came to the mouth of a river.
The boat moved into the river and found just enough depth in a single channel to take the ship. The remaining boats were lowered and manned. With her sails furled, the boats pulled the ship into the river channel upstream as far as she would go. Phillips decided this was the best he could do. He felt the offshore island would protect them from any ordinary storm. This was hurricane country so that had to be considered, but he could do nothing about that problem for now.
Mister Daniels took a party of Marines to reconnoiter the terrain. Because of the marshy surroundings, the men were ordered to wear their normal ship-board attire, the same slop clothing the seamen wore. Their uniforms were left on the ship. The party of mud-smeared men returned late in the afternoon with their report. This area was low-lying and marshy, with hummocks of higher ground. Game seemed to be plentiful. No recent sign of men, although a fallen cabin and overgrown field was found upriver on some higher ground.
Chips reported to the captain that while he had much of the material needed for the more important repairs, he did need some heavy timbers to replace damage in the stern. The ship’s sternpost must be built up, and the rudder repaired, as well as some framing issues taken care of.
There were many bigger trees available that could be harvested but the only available means of transportation was the river, so it would be necessary to find stands of the proper timber along the river’s bank. Chips took a party armed with axes and saws to search. While they were gone, the crew began unloading the ship, especially the stern, to get it as far out of the water as was possible. A pair of boat guns were taken from the ship and emplaced ashore covering the likely approaches to the site.
That afternoon, the carpenter’s crew came back accompanied by a strange looking man and a team of rough looking oxen dragging an oak log behind. The man was bearded and wore buckskin clothing, and a hat made of the hide of some small animal.
Phillips stepped back as the man approached and expectorated a stream of tobacco juice at his feet. The man held out a grimy hand and stated, “Jedediah Stuart here, gen’ral.”
Phillips gingerly shook Stuart’s free hand. The backwoodsman was holding a long rifle very similar to his own, save for the different ignition system.
Chips came forward. “Mister Stuart here met us as we were deciding whether to cut down this tree. He offered to haul it here with his team if we would pay him a Spanish dollar for it. I told him we would need another three just like it.”
Phillips invited the woodsman onto the Andromeda and had his servant set up the deck chairs, and produce cups and a flagon of rum. Stuart downed the rum in one swallow and held out the cup for another.
“So, Mister Stuart, you can deliver three more logs like this one if we pay you four dollars?”
“Yessir Genr’al, I know that is highway robbery, but you’ll get the logs a sight faster than if you try to drag ‘em to the river and float ‘em down. ‘Sides, them logs are green an’ won’t float nohow!”
“Well Mister Stuart, you just sit right there and I will get your money.” The cabin had been struck down and much of his furnishings taken ashore, but he knew just where his chest was located in the hold. Finding it, he withdrew his purse and found the dollars. Another long case beside the trunk held the long rifle he had purchased in Halifax. He took the rifle and hunting bag and went back up on deck.
In his absence, the woodsman had downed another mug of rum and his speech was becoming a little slurred. Phillips handed him the coins which were immediately secreted in his own hunting bag.
“Say, Gen’ral, where’d you get that rifle gun? My old pa had one like it. That was a Burkett, out of Lancaster.
“’Cept that lock on your’n was never made by Burkett. Looks like he didn’t quite get it right, whoever did that.”
“This rifle was made in Lancaster, Mister Stuart, although I don’t know who made the weapon itself. A gunmaker in Halifax made the lock.”
“Well, that ‘splains it. Them Yankees never get anything right!”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mister Stuart. This rifle shoots well for me.”
“Well, I’d offer you a match, but your gun would never fire anyhow. I’ll not take your money without a chance.”
Phillips looked around. A small rill running into the river near the boat had washed a small branch onto a small sand bar. It was a stick, barely an inch in diameter and was probably a good ten fathoms away. Pointing at it, he asked Stuart if he could break the stick with a ball from his rifle.
“Well, sure I could, but you can’t, and it wouldn’t be right to shoot against you.”
Phillips stood and retrieved a paper cartridge from his bag. Stuart eyed him curiously as he charged the weapon and extracted the cap from the brass box built into the buttstock. Placing the cap on the nipple, he asked Stuart if he would like to fire the rifle.
“Not me, Genr’l. I’ll not have you laughing at me.”
Phillips took a careful sight, then he eased the trigger back. The heavy long barrel hung steady on the target. The powerful mainspring slammed the hammer down on the cap which exploded instantly, firing the weapon. The stick jumped, broken into two pieces.
“I will be damned Mister! Just how in hell did that thing go off without a flint and frizzen?”
Across to America: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 9) Page 10