HMS DREADNAUGHT: A John Phillips Novel

by Richard Testrake

  Phillips knew well if anything he did went badly, he would have no defense. Collingwood was his superior, not Drummond of Gibraltar, who could not give him binding orders. However, he believed Drummond was correct and agreed to his proposal, asking only that he notify Admiral Collingwood of the situation.

  Phillips wondered, “Governor, will I have other ships with me?”

  Governor Drummond nodded. “The cutter Limpet that brought us the information from Admiral Gambier will accompany you. She may be of use in a scouting capacity, and of course will report any French activity to us here. In addition, the frigate HMS Viceroy is patrolling along the Spanish – Portuguese coast. She, like yourself, is under the orders of Admiral Collingwood, but perhaps you may persuade her captain to back your play.”

  Phillips returned to the Dreadnaught to find the liner a perfect beehive of activity. Lighters were alongside, delivering all sorts of stores. The sailmaker and his crew had the foredeck covered with the spare fore tops’l, which they were repairing.

  Upon going into his dining cabin, he found the table covered with yards of fabric, with half a dozen Spanish women chattering away as they wielded scissors and sewing needles.

  Back on the quarterdeck, a harried Lieutenant Watkins reported to him. “I am sorry about all the clutter, sir. The sailmaker says he needed to replace a panel in the fore tops’l, and I did not know what to do about all these women making clothes for Mme. De Beauvoir. I was told today was the only day we could have the lighters, so I ordered the salt pork brought aboard.”

  “Well, Mister Watkins, it seems we must go to work as soon as can be. The French are coming to us, and we must not disappoint them. Necessary repairs should be hastened. Others may be set aside until later. This business of women’s clothing may be set aside, continued on shore, perhaps. For now I need to have a meeting of department heads. The question is where? I seem to have been shut out of my quarters!”

  “Sir, as president of the mess, please let me offer the use of the wardroom. I will go below and clear out all un-needed people.”

  The wardroom was a long space running fore and aft in the stern of the ship on the deck below the captain’s quarters. A long table took up much of the space, with tiny cabins for the wardroom officers on either side.

  By the time Phillips arrived there, the wardroom servants were finishing straightening up the space, and the regular denizens were arriving. Watkins stood beside Captain Phillips at the head of the table, and announced, “Gentlemen, the Captain has a few word for us. I have invited him to use our space while his own is not available.”

  Phillips reported on the activities of the French, and their sortie from Brest. “Gentlemen, Boney has made a mistake! Up until the present, his armies have been almost undefeated on land. It is only our fleet that has kept him away from our shores. However, since he chose to kidnap his Spanish ally’s King and Crown Prince, in order to put his brother on that throne, the Spanish have been in very earnest revolt. Boney is using a significant amount of resources to maintain his hold on the Peninsula, and there is increasing doubt that he can continue.

  Our forces have a foothold in Portugal, and we hope to expand that. It is important that we maintain a constant flow of supplies to the area, for ourselves and for our Spanish and Portuguese allies. I am told a number of French liners have escaped Brest and may be headed our way. We are going out to see if we can put a flea in their ear.”

  “All work on the ship that is not completely necessary, will be put aside. I am going to ask Mme. De Beauvoir to go ashore until we can attend to our business with the French fleet.”

  “Now, are there any questions?”

  *****

  Back on deck again, Phillips stopped to talk to the sailmaker on the foredeck. “Tell me Mister Childers, just how necessary is this repair?”

  “Well, Captain, this is our spare. If the other gets blown out or split, we will need this one; if we want to have a fore tops’l, that is.”

  “What is the problem with it?”

  “Seems a bad batch of canvas was made into one of the panels. The canvas is weak, and will split, sure as fate, if we get into heavy weather.”

  “When can you have it finished, Mister Childers?”

  “Well, rightly Captain, probably forenoon tomorrow. Maybe if we worked full tides, we can get her done tonight.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Mister Childers. You know the bind we are in. We will be piping ‘Up spirits’ soon. If your men could keep working, and get this sail finished tonight, I will guarantee a double issue of grog tonight, no matter at what time you finish. To sweeten the deal, I have here a golden guinea that I will give to your sailmaker’s crew for their next spree on shore. What do you say?”

  The sailmaker went over and discussed matters with his crew. A few looked alarmed, but soon Phillips watched them all nod.

  “They’ll do it, Captain. Atkins had a question. Seems a few of the men have a little trouble with their grog. Atkins wanted to know if they will have to come before you if they happened to get taken poorly on a double ration?”

  Phillips answered, “They can get as drunk as they want, as long as this sail is done before morning, and the ship is not harmed. Perhaps those with a strong head could keep watch on their weaker brothers.”

  The master was standing by the entry with a tally board in his hand. “How does she go, Mister Jensen?”

  “Sir, we’re getting the last of the pork struck below right now. We have the French beef we took, which will last us a month or so. The men don’t like it much, but if we are in a hurry, it will do.”

  “We are in a hurry, Mister Jensen. Have you seen the gunner? I need to find out how we are situated with ammunition.”

  “The gunner is down below re-stowing some of our powder. The only powder available here in Gib is some captured French powder. It was going back home to get remade to our ways. If we want it, we can get the lighters alongside the powder hulk first thing in the morning.”

  Phillips went below to check on the gunner in the magazine. He was busy stowing what was left of their own powder in a smaller space, in case they were to take on the French powder.

  “How are we situated, Master Gunner?”

  “Well sir, we are right down to our bottom tier of powder. We have enough for maybe one good action, then we’ll have to throw the balls at the enemy.”

  “I hear we can only get captured French powder. What do you think of it?”

  “Think of it? I don’t, Captain. I don’t like it one bit. But, if that is the only powder we can get, I guess it will have to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Back in his dining cabin, Phillips found the dress making activities were gone. His steward told him the whole bevy, including Mme. De Beauvoir had left in a shore boat earlier. Madame had left him a note.

  He read the letter, expressing her gratitude for his courtesies, and hoped to meet him again.

  He placed the note in a drawer. This was a part of his life now over. He called for his clerk who wrote out a requisition for the requisite amount of best quality French gunpowder, to be loaded at the powder hulk at first light next morning.

  *****

  The sentry outside his door announced, “Mister Phillips, Sir.”

  He told the lad to come in and asked him how he was doing. Timothy admitted the other mids in the gunroom had put him up to asking what they were going to be up to, now.

  “Well Timothy, you can tell your associates that we are putting out to sea to find the French, and see if we can amuse them. First though, I want you to take a boat ashore and deliver this requisition to the powder dock. It is way to hell and gone at the other end of the harbor. Here is sixpence. You had better hire a donkey to get you there faster than shank’s mare.”

  Next morning, the fore topmast staysail was set and trimmed to the light breeze. The ship coasted across the harbor to meet the lighter with the little casks of gunpowder that crept out to meet her. All flame was
doused on the ship, and the men handling the powder were searched to make sure none were carrying anything that would spark.

  Phillips saw the gunner rubbing a pinch of the stuff between his fingers, then touching his lips. “How would you rate the powder, Master Gunner?”

  “Well”, he said doubtfully. “I guess it will do. I’d feel better if it came from a British powder mill.”

  “The French have been using this for the whole war, and it seems to work for them, Master Gunner.”

  After the last of the powder had been stowed below, the decks were swabbed down with plenty of seawater to insure no live powder remained.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  When Dreadnaught put out to sea, she did so by herself. The tender was ordered back to Britain to go before the prize court. Mister Andrews was to take her. Phillips transferred some of the rescued ex-slaves to her as crew. All were given discharge tickets by the doctor to insure the men were not snapped up by the press as soon as they reached shore. Andrews was given an acting commission as acting lieutenant.

  Of course, it would mean little unless someone needed an officer aboard a ship, and took him on. Phillips wrote up a glowing recommendation for the young man, stating he would be happy to take the officer aboard his own ship at the next vacancy.

  The dispatch cutter Limpet, Captain Harrison, remained behind to wait for the next convoy to come in from Britain, but then would rendezvous with Dreadnaught off Lisbon. She would bring along any later intelligence that may have come in.

  Dreadnaught had to sail far out in order to pick up a slant of wind that would deliver her to the mouth of the Tagus. She had no sooner reached there than her maintop lookout spotted the topsails of a ship, hull down in the North West. Dreadnaught sailed out to meet the stranger.

  Even as a mere sixty four gun ship, Phillips was confident enough in Dreadnaught to pit her against any other single third rate. Her crew was now as well trained as any in the Royal Navy, and Phillips thought, superior to any single ship in the French fleet. The French were handicapped because they could rarely get out to sea to train, where the British ships seemed to be always at sea.

  The ship they saw turned out to be French built, but was now flying a British flag. The HMS Lutine 32, Captain Wilson. She was coming their way with a bone in her teeth. As she approached, it was obvious she had been in a fight. Her foremast was fished with lengths of two by fours wound tight with cable. Several gun ports on her starboard side had been beaten into one opening. Her rigging was all knotted and spliced.

  Phillips had looked at the Navy list enough to know he had a year more service than Wilson. That being so, he was Wilson’s superior and could give the man certain orders. When the ships came close enough to use the speaking trumpet, Phillips asked Wilson to come aboard. The Lutine only had one boat left, but that was quickly manned and her captain dropped into it and was pulled over to Dreadnaught.

  “Well, Captain Wilson, it looks as if you ran into an angry husband!”

  “Worse than that, I ran into two French third rates - 74 guns, both of them. I was escorting a pair of horse transports to Lisbon when they caught us at first light yesterday. As the sun came up, there they were. One went after the transports, while the other played with me. Neither had a well-trained crew, but they got the transports, and shot the hell out of me. My twelve pounders did not make too much of an impression on them, though my people crippled one’s mizzen.”

  “I was able to stay out of their clutches and danced around. One had a wounded mizzen when I left, but my foremast was about to come down too, so we decided to call it a day. Do you want to go back and see if we can find them?”

  That was just what Phillips wanted. He asked, “Will your ship handle another engagement?”

  “I think the both of us will make an impression upon them, at least”

  “What about your ship. Does she need anything that I can give you?”

  “Now that you mention it, during the last bit, just before we wounded her mizzen, my carpenter was on the quarterdeck reporting on damage, when a ball damn near cut him in two. His mates are carrying the load now, but neither is well qualified. I wonder if I could borrow your carpenter for a few hours.”

  Phillips ordered his carpenter along with his best mate across to Lutine. Later, he went over himself to see how the work was coming along. The men were rebuilding the port side bulwarks, which had been shot to bits.

  Wilson came to him, expressing his praise for the help. He assured Phillips he was ready to do what he could for him at any time. He reported he would be ready for action in another hour or two.

  The two captains used that time to discuss crew requirements aboard Lutine. Beside the carpenter, she had lost another fifteen men, wounded and killed. Phillips assured him his ship was well manned, and he could spare that number of skilled people.

  There was a procession of sad faced individuals bringing their sea bags from below and descending into the launch to see what the future would bring them in a new ship.

  When all was secure on both ships, they set sail, proceeding toward the area where Lutine had last seen the enemy. As they proceeded on their course, the lookout above reported, “Cutter hull down on the starboard quarter. I think it’s Limpet.”

  The cutter was faster than Dreadnaught, so he remained on course; hanging up the signal for Limpet to fall in astern. It was early evening before Limpet’s signals could be read. “Two enemy line-of-battle ships off Lisbon Harbor.”

  As soon as the signal was read off to him, he signaled Lutine to follow him, and he wore around and set a course for Lisbon. Once near the port, the three ships spread out in a broad front, so as to cover as much an area as possible. Limpet, out on the port flank began signaling, reporting, “HMS Viceroy; Captain Mullins, in sight.”

  That signal was repeated to Lutine, and the trio made for the new sighting. Dreadnaught ordered Viceroy to pass within hail, then told Captain Mullins what they were about. When asked to accompany them, Mullins gladly agreed.

  With four ships scouting on a broad front, it would be strange if they did not find something. Lutine spotted the two horse transports taken by the enemy. These ship were slow, and did not attempt to make a chase. They hauled down their flags and awaited the boarding party.

  Mister Gordon, their third lieutenant boarded one of the transports, while an officer from Lutine did the honors with the other. Gordon, after discussing matters with the other officer, came back to Dreadnaught and reported. Both ships were in good condition. Their officers had been taken aboard the French two-deckers, but the crews were aboard, and had been freed, exchanging places with the French prize crews.

  Both ships were filled to capacity with horses for the Army in Portugal, and what with the delay from the capture, the ships were now short of water for the animals.

  It was recommended the specialized crew aboard the transports, accustomed to traveling with horses, be left to their jobs. It would be necessary to provide them with officers to take the ships to port. Gordon was left to command one transport, with instructions to take her to Lisbon as soon as possible. Lutine’s officer was delegated to take the other transport in.

  As Mister Gordon was having his sea chest brought up, Timothy reported to his father and asked, “Sir, Mister Gordon will need another person to assist him on that ship. Could I go, please?”

  Phillips mentally cringed at the idea of his little boy becoming second in command of a large ship, but nodded and told the lad to get his gear. He took out his purse, and told the boy, “Here is some money. When you get ashore, try to find a senior naval officer and report to him. Hopefully, he will be able to get you back to Dreadnaught. Should all else fail, buy a berth on the mail packet back to Falmouth, and go on home. Be sure to write both myself and your mother to let us know what you are about.

  Because of the shortage of water aboard the transports, there was little delay, and as soon as the officers were ready, a file of Marines was ordered into the boa
t with them, and off they went.

  The Marines were an afterthought of Phillips. While the civilian crew aboard the transports could undoubtedly control the prisoners locked in their shackles, the Marines could come in handy if the civilian crew themselves had second thoughts of their service with the Royal Navy, and decided to take the ship and horses elsewhere.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  The flotilla followed the transports, remaining well behind. At sunset, no sign had yet to be seen of the enemy. At dawn though, Limpet, again at the farthest flank reported a sail in sight. This appeared to be a damaged ship limping up the Iberian Peninsula toward France.

  Coming closer, Lutine reported it was one of her antagonists from a few days before. The French two-decker had lost her mizzen mast, and had jury rigged a spar to serve that purpose. She had apparently suffered other damage to her rudder.

  Phillips hung out a signal for Limpet to pass within hail. When she came up, he ordered her to speak each of the others in succession. He gave his orders for the engagement. Dreadnaught would come up to the enemy, and engage her broadside to broadside. While he was doing that, he would appreciate the two frigates amusing themselves by attempting to place their frigates at the enemy’s bow and stern, raking her if possible.

  The rigging of the enemy was still a mess, and it appeared not much had been done to repair it. Her rudder also appeared to be partially jammed. The big two decked ship did not seem to have a full range of turning ability. The wind was out of the west, and she had it on her port beam, just holding her luff, running up the coast.

  Dreadnaught came up from her stern, intending to come up to windward of her. Lutine was heading to cross her bow, while Viceroy aimed for her stern.

  The enemy was not however in as difficult a position as it might seem. Being to windward of the enemy, Dreadnaught was heeled over, so that her lower ports lids on the lee side were barely out of the water, while the enemy had full advantage of all of her guns.