The frigate began her search for any enemy craft. Before sailing, Phillips learned Bonaparte was again building numbers of small craft in which to transport his army across the Channel, if only the French navy could gain control of the Channel for a few days. His lookouts spotted a few such craft sailing up from Brest apparently destined for Cherbourg and points east. When closing on these craft however, the shallow draft boats, often under oar-power, would duck into one of the many tiny fishing ports or inlets that would generally be defended by a battery of guns.
This was an irritant for which Phillips thought he might have an answer. When a large sailing barge ducked into such a bay, he had his sailing master and first officer mark the bay on the chart.
Looking over his notes, Mister Fitzwilliam found HMS Atropos had reported last year that a four-gun battery of French eight-pounder protected the inlet. When Active approached the inlet more closely, a formation of men marched to an emplacement and a Tricolor went up its pole there. As she sailed closer still, smoke belched out the muzzle of a gun and its report echoed over the water. The shot impacted the surface and skipped along, finally sinking two cables lengths away.
Judging this a good time to leave, they did so, with no damage to the ship.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HMS Active sailed back out to sea and then turned westward, as though giving up on the prize. While removing herself from the area, Phillips went over the chart with Mister Fitzwilliam. A coastal road ran along the shore, with the chart’s notations advising it was in poor condition. However, the charts also indicated the water’s depth was fairly constant on both sides of the inlet guarded by the battery, too shallow to approach by a larger ship such as the frigate, but perfectly feasible for the small craft being delivered by the French forces. Phillips reasoned their own boats should also be able to use these near-shore waters themselves.
Accordingly, after dark, the frigate moved back into the area and backing her tops’ls, came to a stop and deployed her ship’s boats. Two were armed with boat carronades and all were filled with armed seamen and Marines. The boats pulled for a point a mile to the west of the battery. The men went ashore, formed up on the road and prepared to march toward their target. The boats with the carronades set sail and made their way to the battery, anchoring just off shore and the guns readied. The twelve-pounder carronades were loaded with charges of grape to cause as much injury to the defenders as possible. Just a sliver of the moon showed, and it was difficult to see. The battery garrison did keep a watch, but that soldat had seen the British frigate sail off in shame so what was there to watch for? Not expecting any trouble, he did not see any.
The party on the road spent most of the remainder of the night marching and approached their destination as planned just before false dawn. When nearing their attack position, a man with a dark lantern went off the road and approached the shore. Opening the door of the lantern, he showed the light inside to the boats waiting offshore from the battery. He knew they had seen the signal since a burst of sparks erupted when one of the gunner’s mates in his boat lit his match from his own dark lantern.
The lantern signal was the order for each boat to fire its charge of grape into the battery. Although the eastern sky was just beginning to lighten, it was still too dark to see any detail. Any casualties the carronades might inflict would be by sheer accident. Their real purpose was to distract the battery’s defenders from noticing their attackers approaching from behind.
First one gun fired, then seconds later, the other. At the second shot, a chorus of oaths erupted from the battery, suggesting at least some of the defenders were wounded. When the second gun fired, both boats cut their anchor lines, set their lug-sails and moved off away from possible retaliation from the battery.
The gunshots were also a signal for the landing party to commence their attack. The party was a little farther away from the battery than planned so the attack came late. This did not affect the outcome. Most of the defenders survived the carronade fire and went to their guns and began firing into the night, making such noise so as to mask the approach of the landing party.
The battery itself was protected by piled stone and timber around the positions themselves. Along the flanks, there were piles of brush chest high to inhibit any approach from the sea. The only means to stop an attacker in the rear was a belt-high fence made of timber and brush whose main purpose was to keep the garrison’s animals from straying.
The landing party reached that fence before being noticed and then jumped over it and came at the gunners with muskets levelled.
The Royal Marines were especially frightening as usual. They came in formation with their bayonetted muskets poised. When they stopped for a moment, aimed on command and fired at near point blank range, those defenders still capable dropped their tools and escaped in any direction available.
Spreading some bags of captured gunpowder in the dry brush fences, these were set afire to give light and to signal the ship. By daylight, seamen had gone aboard the prize that had taken cover in the tiny harbor and prepared to sail her out. The hull of the sailing barge itself was worth little but she carried a valuable cargo. Hundreds of tents and stands of muskets and accoutrement that could be used to outfit new levies of troops should the invasion of England ever come. After Phillips learned of the capture, he thought the materials would likely be turned over to the insurgents in Spain fighting their French occupiers.
The gunner grossly overloaded the battery’s guns with powder and ball, and the muzzles filled with clay tamped down hard. Inhabitants from the surrounding area were treated to a fireworks display when the guns were fired, and the breeches blown out and barrels split. The final display was the firing of the magazine. Although Phillips had removed half of the powder to provide practice ammunition for his men to train with, the remainder sounded off with a roar none of the inhabitants had ever experienced before. He and his men were well satisfied when they sailed off that afternoon.
Mister Connors took command of the sailing barge, and was ordered to take it across the Channel to Portsmouth. Active continued patrolling the shore looking for enemy commerce. Their latest foray seemed to have put a fright into the enemy shipping and few more craft ventured out. Eventually, a dispatch cutter found her and handed over a packet of orders. HMS Active was to report back to the blockading fleet, now under Commodore Malcom, Lord Keith having returned home, deciding to command the Fleet from shore.
Finding the first-rate ship Queen Charlotte off Brest, flying the flag of Commodore Malcom, Active hung out her number and the recognition signal. She was ordered to come into the flagship’s lee and come aboard. Malcom greeted him cordially, accepting the bag of correspondence Phillips had brought for the edification of Admiral Lord Keith, handing them to his flag lieutenant who would inspect them to see what their final destination must be. Flags also took his report of the taking of the battery and the sailing barge.
Phillips was surprised to find out all of the information Malcom had on his recent activities. As they sat there discussing the weather, the commodore brought up his activities in North Americas.
“Tell me Captain Phillips, what has Admiral Warren, or for that matter, Admiral Bickerton to say about the orders sending you from duty in Halifax arranging shipments of naval store to Britain?”
Phillips explained the circumstances leading up to his transfer. “So Captain, I suppose it never occurred to you to explain to Admiral Warren the importance of your work in America?”
“Sir, it has always been my practice to obey the orders given me and let my superiors concern themselves about their meaning.”
“That is as good an explanation as I might expect, Captain.”
The flag lieutenant came over with a page from Phillips’ report, which he had brought with him. Malcolm took the page irritably and scanned through it rapidly. Then, he read it over again more slowly.
“Well Captain, I see you have been busy on our shores recently. Please tell me verba
lly of your latest escapade.”
Phillips repeated the story of the raid on the battery, almost word for word a duplicate of his written report.
“Would you believe repeated attacks on these batteries might be as successful?”
“Initially, I believe they would,” replied Phillips. Sooner or later though, the confusion will evaporate and some able commander will think to defend the road access to the batteries.”
Malcom gave the report to his flag lieutenant and told him to write up a plan for commanding officers of ships to follow in regard to attacking these batteries. He was to show the plan to Captain Phillips when finished and get his approval.
“It is my intention”, began Malcom, “to have one of our blockading ships to follow every single craft ducking into one of these defended inlets or fishing ports. Hopefully we can put a crimp into Boney’s supply system as well as damage the French army and make our ship captains and crews a little money.
“Yes sir”, answered Phillips. “Of course we should warn officers commanding landing parties to beware of enemy defenses on the roads themselves. A few galloper guns loaded with case shot hidden in a copse or culvert could cause terrible casualties among our people.”
Phillips had to bring up his difficulties with his officers. At the moment, he had only Lieutenant Wilcox, since he had sent Connors back home in the sailing barge. Malcom laughed at his problem. “Here on Queen Charlotte, I am faced with the opposite difficulty. For sixpence, I would gladly sell you a half dozen young officers. Shall I send two with you when you return to your ship?”
Phillips returned to his frigate with two extra passengers. One was the former fifth lieutenant of Queen Charlotte, Mister Clifford. The other was a young man who had just passed his boards but had not yet been appointed to a ship. The new officer’s commission now confirmed, Mister McCain was now Active’s third lieutenant. The ship now had her full complement of officers for a change.
HMS Active was sent out again, with orders to try the plan again on other defended ports. Rounding the Breton Peninsula, she proceeding in an easterly direction along the coast. The first night, she ran into a covey of small craft, escorted by a small armed brig. Active had been showing no lights and the sudden appearance of a British warship was an unpleasant surprise to them. There was little light, and the visibility was limited. The brig tried to defend her charges, probably thinking the stranger was a lightly armed privateer or perhaps an unarmed merchant vessel. The brig, with only five guns on a side, fired two of them at the intruder.
She was mistaken, and learned her error the hard way, when Active’s broadside crashed out, every shot hitting. Horrible damage resulted and the brig was left with her main portside shrouds shot through and the mast leaning alarmingly over the side, held by only a few strands. She immediately doused her flag, which the brig’s master had to venture out in the open with a lantern to show to that infernal British warship.
Phillips sent over Mister Wilcox to take charge the brig with the bosun and a party of seamen. He did not altogether trust the new officers yet, so decided to keep them on board where he could monitor their progress. Not having time to bother with the enemy crew, he told Wilcox to send them ashore in the brig’s boats. He had become comfortable with Wilcox since arriving on the French coast. Wilcox had been spending hours every day walking the deck and had lost much of his excess weight. Every day now saw the officer in the rigging, and while the seamen cringed when Wilcox ventured above the tops, he was still greatly admired.
As the prize sailed off to a home port, Active continued on course. At sunrise next morning, the lookout spotted a fore-and-aft-rigged vessel making into a little fishing port.
Active continued on past this port without deigning to notice it. Mister Fitzwilliam brought up his chart of this section of the coast and, this fishing port too, was marked as being defended with a small battery. Unlike the previous target, this port included a small village, and according to the notes on Fitzwilliam’s chart included a regular French army outpost and garrison.
Mister Fitzwilliam, after being called, agreed with the others this was likely a waypoint on the coast road where troops on the march could rest and re-provision. He was well-read on the subject and reminded his captain that Napoleon’s armies were perpetually marching along the bounds of the empire much as the Roman legions had done two millennia ago. He suspected this outpost would likely include service troops whose duty would consist of maintaining vehicles, weapons and furnishing necessary supplies for troops on the move.
With the ship’s officers in agreement, the remainder of the night was spent in making the necessary plans.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The ship put about during the night and proceeded to the position of the port. Again the boats were manned and pulled ashore with their complements of Royal Marines and armed seamen. Again, these men were landed a distance from the port and made their way along the coast road to the village. There were dogs in the village and they sounded the alarm long before the sentries noticed anything amiss. At first ignored, the subaltern commanding the guard then decided to take a chance and decided to sound the alert. His commander was in the village with his paramour and the officer was braver than he might have been if that portly major been at his post. As bugles blared, the carronades of the offshore boats blasted. In this case, their charges of grape hit nothing, impacting harmlessly only the brushy hillsides near the battery. An alert caporal, commanding a pair of the guns, marked the location of the muzzle flashes, and fired. One of the eight-pound balls just missed striking its target. The ball struck close alongside the boat and indeed smashed a starboard oar as the boat was pulling itself out to sea.
The boats now out of sight in the night, the guns continued firing as the attackers closed on the village. Their plans were somewhat awry as the guns were not in the expected position, but with the gun flashes perfectly visible, this was soon mended.
With dawn just about to announce itself, the blasts of the guns were beginning to fade as the assault party positioned themselves to the flanks where it was difficult for the guns to cover.
Captain Phillips had himself gone ashore with the attackers, lacking anyone else he trusted with such a duty. He had left Mister Fitzwilliam to command the ship and brought the younger of the new lieutenants with him to act as his aide de camp and perhaps learn a thing or two. Lieutenant Harding was perhaps twenty years of age and eager for action. He had handed over his sword to the ship’s armorer to put a keen edge on the blade before coming ashore.
The guns of the boats had fired too early due to poor understanding of their orders, but Phillips regarded this as irrelevant. With the guns of the battery beginning to stop their thundering, Phillips decided the French defenders’ attention would all be directed to their front and gave the order to advance. His people had all been firmly ordered to keep their silence, which they did until reaching the low barricade behind the encampment. One of the seamen stumbled as he went over the piled logs in the dark and his musket discharged. The men had been ordered not to prime their weapons until actually engaging the enemy, but in the event, the cat was out of the bag, as the seamen would say later.
At the shot, the attackers broke into a run, shouting as they met the enemy. The Marines, thirty of them, in line with bayonets fixed, were an impressive sight to the defenders as they came on with blood in their eyes. In an instant, the mood of the defenders changed and suddenly the gunners began to pour out of the battery by any exit point they could find.
The sun now peeking over the hills, the intruders could now see what they had conquered. The battery was theirs. The village, just outside the boundary was quiet, with the locals remaining inside their homes.
Phillips sent the gunner’s mate he had brought along to do what he could to disable the enemy guns. As his people were inventorying the captured equipment and supplies, with a view as what they should carry away, a portly little gentleman, adorned with badges and medals and a sword a
lmost larger than himself made his way to the entrance to the battery and proclaimed himself in broken English to be the mayor of this village. He protested their presence and announced a detachment of French troops expected to arrive shortly would see them off shortly.
Phillips invited the gentleman into the battery headquarters, now abandoned by its normal residents, and taken over by the Actives. Over a bottle of captured wine, Phillips praised the bravery of the French defenders and agreed that next time French Honor would certainly prevail. With the now mollified official gone, Phillips thought over his news. While probably the announcement of French troops nearby was likely a lie, it might be well to take steps to defend against them.
Going out to the battery, he found his gunner’s mate had already hammered hardened steel spikes into the touchholes of two of the four French eight-pound guns. Ordering the petty officer to belay, he asked for the inventory of the battery’s magazine. He learned, while most of the projectiles present were ball and dismasting shot, there were also a few bags of musket balls, intended to fire at troops at close range.
He ordered the two guns remaining in firing condition to be moved out to the coast road. The mayor had indicated the oncoming troops were coming from the east, but of course that could be a lie. The guns were placed in the ditch alongside the road facing in either direction. With the guns down in the ditch, the muzzles were just above the road surface, in a perfect position to fire at anyone coming down the road.
The boats were signaled to close the shore, where they were loaded with what captured stores likely to be needed. The Marine officer and Lieutenant Harding, furnished with captured horses, were both sent down the road in either direction to watch for any approaching enemy troops. It was nearly mid-day when the new third officer came back, his horse at a run, announcing a body of troops approaching from the west. He was sent on to collect the Marine officer and both guns prepared to fire to the west. He wished to ensure that that enemy did not recapture any working guns to use immediately against them so, using oxen taken from the village, brought some heavy logs up and placed them in the road.
Ships of Oak, Men of Iron: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 10) Page 9