HMS Centaur: A Charles Mullins novel, Sea Command 8

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HMS Centaur: A Charles Mullins novel, Sea Command 8 Page 4

by Richard Testrake


  Her passengers on this voyage were those wounded during the recent fighting. Of course, many were in desperate condition, but others were surprisingly healthy. The surgeons had been rather liberal in deciding whether any particular wound necessitated evacuation, rather than return to duty. Some few of the passengers visible on the upper deck of Invincible showed little sign of injury. While paying a visit to Centaur during a calm afternoon, Lieutenant Cameron, commanding the transport, brought up a subject that seemed important to him.

  “Sir, I know Centaur is a good ship, well capable of sorting out any Frenchman that may try to take a go at us. But, I have been sailing this coast for many a year, and the French have a good many newly-built two-deckers.”

  “I can see two or three of these making a try at us. I know Centaur will do her best, but if my ship were to be cut out, there would be little chance for us to escape.”

  Mullins spoke, “Just what is your idea, Mister Cameron?”

  “Sir, I have a few guns aboard my transport. Of course, I have no trained gun crews, but with several hundred wounded soldiers and seamen aboard, it would be strange if there were not a few men capable of taking their place on a gun crew. If we were to prepare the guns before they are needed, they would be ready if some French warships came over the horizon.”

  “Then too, sir, if you could fly a broad pennant to indicate Centaur was the flagship, perhaps we could fly a commission pennant, as though we were still in commission. If a French squadron were to come sailing up to us, seeing what appears to be a pair of British two deckers with their guns run out, the sight just might cause them to return home.”

  Mullins thought over the plan. He was already in a certain amount of trouble, despite what Admiral Pickmore had to say. But, he philosophized, he might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. Agreeing to the request, he called for his sailmaker to have him make a broad pennant for Centaur as well as a commission pennant for the transport.

  The fleet was well down the Spanish coast when trouble was sighted. Mullins had no wish to engage an enemy fleet at the moment. True, with Invincible flying her commission pennant, with her guns run out, and Centaur flying a broad pennant, it appeared this convoy had a powerful escort, one which an intelligent enemy might wish to avoid. However, the two merchants could well prove to be attractive prizes to roving warships.

  The trouble that was coming over the horizon proved to be a single two-decker third-rate accompanying a pair of smaller ships. Not wishing to show any alarm, Mullins kept his convoy on course, signaling Invincible to remain to windward. As the trio of ships closed, it became evident that besides the liner, the other two appeared to be small frigates. Mullins was certain he could defeat the third-rate, but what to do about the frigates. While Centaur was seeing off the big liner, the frigates would have their chance to savage the rest of the convoy. His two merchantmen were too slow to run away. Their only chance was to convince the enemy fleet that they were facing two well-armed ships-of-the-line.

  If there was a meeting, the enemy would soon see that Invincible was a sham, with only a few guns operational. To maintain the ruse as long as possible, he ordered his signal officer to continue to signal the big transport, as if he were a commodore instructing a subordinate. While he inspected Invincible’s flag hoist, he noticed through his glass that every port on her upper gun deck had a gun’s muzzle protruding.

  Mister James, the signal midshipman had had his glass trained on Invincible since the enemy fleet had crept over the horizon. Mullins asked the lad if he knew from where those extra guns came.

  “Sir, I think they cut up some mast sections. Most of the guns we see are really ‘Quakers’, fake wooden guns.”

  From a distance, the sawed-off mast pieces protruding from the ship’s ports appeared very much like a warship’s great guns.

  As the enemy closed, the frigates separated from the battleship. Mullins thought their commander may have smelled a rat. While the enemy liner slowly edged to windward of the convoy, one frigate came in toward the rearmost merchantman of the convoy. The other frigate appeared to be closing Invincible. As she came up on the old ship’s quarter, Invincible fired off four of her upper deck guns. One of those guns was a carronade and was out of range. The others were twelve-pounder long guns and grouped satisfactorily close to their target.

  At the same time, Mullins judged Centaur might just be within range of the battleship. Had it not been for the unusual conditions of this meeting, he would allow the enemy to close before opening fire. Not wishing to give his opponents time to meditate on Invincible’s paltry show of firepower though, he ordered a broadside of Centaur’s upper deck guns. Observing the results through his glass, he saw that most shot struck the sea, but a few satisfying hits were observed.

  Before the enemy could respond, he ordered the lower deck guns to fire. Now, the remaining frigate decided to assist. Attempting to come up behind Centaur to rake her from behind, he passed too close to Invincible. The old transport had managed to reload her carronades by this time and managed to get a solid hit on the frigate’s beam.

  Gut punched by that great thirty-two-pound ball, the frigate put about and made off toward shore.

  The enemy battleship was now well to windward of Centaur, just within range. Both ships traded broadsides, with no conclusive results. One of the enemy balls clipped Centaur’s main topsail yard, and her way fell off considerably when the topsail collapsed. A spare yard was promptly hoisted up and repairs were commenced, but the enemy ship pulled ahead while this was being done. After the new main topsail was drawing, there was conversation on the quarterdeck about taking the enemy battleship in chase. She too, had plenty of damage aloft and Mullins was certain she could not escape.

  However, there was the convoy to consider and an enemy frigate still in the area. Giving the battleship an extra broadside in salute, Centaur went back to her flock.

  Chapter Six

  The convoy sailed into Gibraltar Bay with no further difficulty. When Centaur had last left the port, she had been under something of a cloud. This cloud seemed to have gone its way. Although there not been time for word of the successful defense of Santiago to have reached Gibraltar by sea, still excitement was rife in the harbor as Centaur picked up her mooring. Apparently, the Spaniards had their own means of relaying news, and the entire military and naval population had some idea of the victory that had been gained.

  A boat from the office of the acting-governor hooked on and passed up a hussar captain in his best uniform with a message directing Centaur’s captain to report to the Convent, an old monastery, where the government offices were located.

  There was a flurry of activity on Centaur’s quarterdeck, where nearly everyone with any responsibility aboard, presented his urgent requests for a visit ashore. In the end, Mullins was pulled ashore in his gig, with the purser beside him who hoped to acquire fresh provisions and water, the demands of the defense of Santiago having almost exhausted the supplies on the ship.

  After meeting with the acting-governor and delivering his dispatches, Mullins spent the afternoon closeted with various officials, political, military and naval, giving them his recommendations as to possible measures that might be planned in the near future.

  Admiral Willoughby was the senior naval officer in this group, who delivered Mullins to Centaur in his own barge. Speaking quietly to Mullins on the way, the admiral informed him he had read Admiral Pickmore’s report and learned Pickmore was certain the incident with the former fourth officer and Mrs. Nelson was much ado about nothing. In the light of Captain Mullins commanding the successful defense of Santiago, he was prepared to ask the Admiralty to keep Captain Hodges ashore. He felt Hodges was not the most suitable officer available for the command.

  Nothing was said about Mullins remaining in command of the third-rate and Centaur’s captain knew better than to ask, but he had a good feeling about the command, however long it might last. One face he well remembered in the group of naval o
fficers back in the Convent, was Captain Godfrey of HMS Artemis.

  When the barge hooked on to Centaur and both officers were welcomed aboard, Mullins introduced Admiral Willoughby to his officers and warrants, then took him into his great cabin, where they discussed future plans. The admiral revealed Pickmore had informed him of the difficulty with Captain Godfrey, and he wondered if the two could work together in the future.

  Mullins was wary. “Sir, if Godfrey is placed under my command, I will do my best to work with him. However, the man has refused before to obey me and has threatened to have me broken. I must confess that I do not trust the man.”

  Willoughby nodded. “This problem is easily solved. We need his frigate here, but I believe we can do without Captain Godfrey. An officer, Commander Ashley, has been stranded here for weeks waiting to see if his old sloop-of-war warrants having the rot repaired in her bottom frames. The repairs have since been deemed too expensive and the ship too old, so she will go to the breakers and another use found for Captain Ashley.”

  “He is rather ancient but I will promote him to post and give him Artemis. Some will think it a bit much to promote such an elderly commander, but I believe he is a worthy enough candidate. He has never had a person of interest to watch over his career and see to his promotions. He spent long years as a lieutenant and more as a commander. He really should go first to a post ship, but we have nothing available here at the moment. From all reports, he served well in the various sloops-of-war that he commanded. With his experience, I think he will do well commanding Artemis.”

  Two boats hooked on to Centaur early the next morning. The first brought former Commander Ashley, now wearing the epaulettes of a post captain. Obviously having been awake all night, he showed the signs of celebrating his promotion. He was embarrassingly effusive with his thanks. When told that it had been Admiral Willoughby that had made the decision for his promotion, Ashley shrugged off the explanation. “I know who I have to thank”, he said.

  Moments after he left, a shore boat brought a splendidly uniformed captain of the 89th Regiment of Foot to the ship. Captain Dawson reported to Mullins on the quarterdeck and handed him a sealed note. When Mullins looked at the officer questioningly, Dawson revealed the note was a challenge. Captain Godfrey felt that Mullins had gravely insulted him by depriving him from his command without reason and was determined to call him to the field of honor.

  Mullins examined the note, then handed it back to the soldier, unread. “Nonsense”, retorted Mullins. “Admiral Willoughby removed Godfrey from command for his own reason. Besides, you may not know naval officers here are not permitted to duel.”

  Dawson smirked, “It is usual these days to conduct our meetings these days across the bay in Algeciras, free from interference by our superiors. Of course, if you would prefer not to fight, you must realize what interpretation those of us who bear arms will put upon that.”

  Striving to conceal his fury, Mullins beckoned to the officer of the watch. “Mister Murphy, Captain Dawson is leaving. Would you see that he is put into a boat and sent ashore?”

  Leaving the frustrated officer to himself, Mullins went to the taffrail and began closely examining the shoreline. When Dawson tried to resume their conversation, Mister Murphy indignantly headed him off.

  “Captain Dawson, you may not know Captain Mullins has been fighting Frenchmen since this war began. He should not be disparaged by those who believe a sword is meant for ceremonial purposes only.”

  Centaur spent the next week at her mooring, taking on stores. Some of those lightly-wounded men that had been landed at the naval hospital on shore were returned to the ship. Other hands were drafted from the old Hedgehog, the old sloop-of-war being sent to the breakers. Since Captain Ashley had inherited a full staff of officers when he took command of Artemis, his old lieutenant, Mister Greenwich, on Hedgehog was at leisure. Mister Greenwich accepted the vacancy on Centaur the death of the first officer had caused. With a full roster now, HMS Centaur was ready to sail.

  HMS Centaur slipped her mooring a day later, with HMS Artemis, Captain Ashley commanding. The orders brought aboard the previous day sent them on their way to join the blockade of Toulon. They were to join a small replenishment convoy from home bound for the blockading force.

  The present convoy escort consisted on of a gun brig and an armed cutter. An elderly sixty-four had set out with the convoy, but a gale at the beginning of the voyage had sprung some of her old frames and she returned to port for survey and possible repair.

  Lieutenant Reever of the gun brig Goshawk, who came aboard Centaur at the first opportunity, was most relieved to be joined by a powerful escort. He reported his transport captains and their vessels were mostly well-behaved, but he knew any one of the many enemy privateers swarming in these waters could have snapped up one or more of his convoy without difficulty. Mullins put his own ship ahead and to windward of the convoy, with Artemis astern. Goshawk would patrol on the windward flank and the cutter Grasshopper, as the most nimble, would cover the leeward flank. She might also scout suspicious sightings, if necessary.

  On their way up the eastern Spanish coast, little was seen to alarm them. A few sails were spotted, mostly hull down, that usually fled when they saw the convoy coming closer. Had he not had the convoy to consider, Mullins might have loosed some of the escort upon them, in hopes of snapping up a prize or two.

  In view of the various problems that he had escaped thus far though, he kept the escort on a tight leash. He wished to take no chances with this valuable convoy. As they neared Rosas, now under French control, the cutter signaled the sighting of sails approaching the port from seaward.

  After signaling his escort vessels to prepare for action, Mullins sent Artemis out with Grasshopper to investigate. After hours of maneuvering, Artemis signaled “Enemy in Sight’ and reported them to consist of a seventy-four-gun third-rate. a forty-gun frigate and four transports.

  Now the shoe seemed to be on the other foot. While it might seem the enemy was a bit stronger than his own force, Mullins knew that his own ship could defeat the enemy liner, while he was equally sure Captain Ashley’s Artemis could handle the enemy frigate. He had Grasshopper and Goshawk to watch over his own convoy during the battle and perhaps pick up a prize or two.

  The enemy appeared bound for Rosas and seemed determined to make port while avoiding contact with the British fleet as best as they might.

  When it became obvious the enemy could not escape contact, the enemy liner and frigate broke away from their transports and faced their enemy. By the same token, Mullins left his transports under the care of Grasshopper and Goshawk while turning to meet with the enemy. The winds were light and variable that afternoon, making it difficult to decide upon a course.

  As the afternoon wore on, with both sides striving to win a position to windward of the enemy, a sudden fluke in the wind found Centaur destined to fight to leeward of the enemy liner. Artemis, caught by the same fluke, found herself far out on Centaur’s flank separated from her own presumed foe, the forty gun French frigate.

  That same enemy frigate, in her maneuvers, had found herself coming up on Centaur’s port quarter. The enemy liner, now with a little wind in her sails, was overtaking at long cannon-shot on Centaurs’s port beam.

  The enemy frigate captain thought he saw his chance to assist his own battleship and started a turn to starboard, in an effort to unmask his port battery for a raking broadside to be directed at the stern of the British liner. Unfortunately for him, Mullins was aware of his action at the same time as a wind gust gave Centaur the impetus to come to port and present her own broadside to the enemy.

  Caught out of position, the enemy frigate had to absorb that crashing broadside from a well-worked up British line-of-battleship.

  The smoke cloud was swept away by the gusting wind and reveled the frigate with her foremast down, many of her gunports beaten into one, and her helm shot away. The frigate had managed to connect only with a few twelve-poun
der balls which did little harm to the strengthened hull of the liner.

  By this time, the enemy liner was rapidly approaching, the fresh breeze pushing her toward her opponent, her guns all run out. Continuing her turn, Centaur met the enemy, bow to bow, and both ships turned at almost the same moment, to exchanged broadsides at close range. Those initial broadsides did dreadful damage to both ships, but Artemis was rapidly coming up. With her own natural enemy at least temporarily out of the fight, she was free to savage the strickenenemy battleship, and this she did. Coming up on the Frenchman’s stern, she began pumping eighteen-pound shot into the enemy’s quarter.

  At the same time, Centaur, although badly wounded by the initial exchange, was still under control and put about, bringing her previously disengaged side against her enemy. The enemy captain had been wounded and was now under his surgeon’s knife, while the first lieutenant now commanding the ship had little idea of what he was to do. Selected for his loyalty to the Emperor, he had little knowledge of how to command a fighting ship.

  While he dithered about whether to set his few whole men on the guns or have them make urgently needed repairs, Centaur began slamming her broadsides into the ship. With two powerful ships pumping broadsides into her, it was too much for the ship and crew. Her damage was too much for the lieutenant in command, to deal with and when one of the signalmen cut the Tricolor’s halyard, the officer did nothing to correct the matter.

  When the firing finally ceased, the enemy liner lay helpless, much of her rigging shot away and her decks awash in blood and gore. The enemy frigate had made some repairs and erected a jury fore-mast with a strange lateen sail, trying to creep away from the fighting. A signal from Centaur brought up Goshawk from her watch over the convoy. Goshawk came up on the frigate’s bow, and fired one of her thirty-two pounder carronades right ahead of her cutwater.

 

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