by Michael Aye
Gabe quickly ordered, “Stop punishment. Mr. Vallin, send a good hand aloft with a telescope. I’ve a feeling.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
Rain started to spatter and Gabe headed below to get his coat when he realized Crawley had never uttered a sound. Turning so fast, Hex almost collided with his captain. “Have Crawley put on as a member of my barge crew as soon as he’s well,” Gabe said.
“Aye, Captain,” Hex replied smiling. “That will make the old seaman proud.”
“Deck thar, two sails.”
Returning quickly from getting his coat, Gabe spoke to Jarvis Jackson, the signal’s midshipman, “Message to the flag. Two sails in sight to larboard. Then signal Bulldog and Lynx to investigate.”
It did not take long before Jackson was back, “Flag has acknowledged.”
“Deck thar,” the lookout called again. “Tomahawk and Revenant have come about and have joined the chase.”
Gabe was trying to figure the angle of Tomahawk and Revenant with that of Bulldog and Lynx. “Mr. Pittman, alter course, I want to close the gap.”
“You think we have them in a box?” Vallin asked.
“To early to tell, but it’s worth the try,” Gabe replied.
“Aye,” Vallin answered, as sail handlers were called. Overhead, the sky darkened and lightning zigzagged across the sky.
“Deck thar, flag has signaled give chase, the squadron has changed tack.” Vallin looked at Gabe, “Mr. Glenn is in the tops with the lookout. He’s learning the signals.”
“I see,” Gabe replied.
“Deck thar, she be coming about,” the report coming loud and clear.
Looking at the sky, Vallin swore, “It will be dark before we can bring her to action.”
“Aye,” Pittman agreed. “We’ll be in the Exumas before long. We were off Long Island when she was sighted. She’ll not get between Cap’n Jepson and Cap’n Davy, so she’ll head toward the Exumas, I would wager.” Pittman continued, “Maybe Great Exuma. If we lose sight of her we can forget it.”
“Why is that?” Gabe asked the master.
“Too many places to hide, Cap’n. There’s a cay for everyday in the year and that’s just the Exumas. She could weave her way through the cays and then head for Cat Island or Eleuthea to the north or come about and head for San Salvador, Rum Cay, or continue on. She’ll have a shallow draught and she’s fast. She’ll go places the sloops might follow, but the flag never will. Places we can’t go. This is what the likes of Bulldog and Lynx are for. Not proper ships, but they’ll go places we’ll not dare.”
Gabe watched as the British ships closed the gap. They would be cutting it close, as it would soon be dark. Vallin had climbed halfway up the shrouds to get a better look.
“Tomahawk has fired,” Vallin shouted.
“The schooner has run up her colors,” the lookout called down.
“Looks like she’ll stand and fight,” Vallin called again.
Across the waters a rumble was heard, almost like thunder. “That was Revenant,” Glenn called down in an excited voice, quickly followed by another shout, “She’s struck, sir.”
“Aye, that she has,” Vallin added.
***
THE SCHOONER LAY HOVE to under the shadow of SeaHorse. Her crew was under guard while her captain had been taken aboard the flagship. Gabe, Hex, and Dagan, along with a handful of marines and a dozen seamen, were aboard the schooner. The gunner, Abrahams, had the ship’s crew sent forward where the marines had them covered with muskets and a swivel gun.
“A lot of men for a schooner, is it not?” Jackson, the midshipman, asked Dagan.
“Aye, lad, but this is a raider. The extra hands are to put aboard ships they capture,” Dagan replied.
A thorough search had been made of the captain’s quarters with nothing found. Gabe sent a few seamen below while Hex took the middy with him to search the officers’ cabins. Jackson was looking under the cot when Hex pulled the pillow back and found a letter.
“Mr. Jackson, go tell the captain…no, go ask the captain if he would be so kind as to come here, please. Don’t shout it out like your reporting, just speak casual like.”
“Aye, sir.”
Hex read the letter and re-read it to the point it ended in mid-sentence. Standing, Hex handed the letter to Gabe, who sat in the one chair in the small cabin. As he read, he began to smile.
“Did you ever write such a letter, Jake?” Gabe asked.
“No, sir, but I never had such a sweetheart who I was trying to impress,” Hex replied.
Gabe handed the letter to Dagan. The man could already see his own command. Dagan laughed. The first officer in trying to impress his sweetheart had bragged about ships they’d taken, how much his shares would be worth, and where they would head after rendezvousing at Cat Island. Then they’d be home in…the letter ended there.
“When did he expect to mail the letter?” Jackson asked, and then realized his error. “Sorry sir.”
“No, Mr. Jackson, that’s a good question. Is there a ship at Cat Island that is headed back to the Colonies? If so, what is she carrying? Say nothing about this letter,” Gabe said, his comments meant for Jackson.
“Aye sir.”
Gabe put the letter in his pocket and as they came back on deck, he spoke to Jackson again, “Go see what, if anything, was found below, young sir.” After a few minutes, he spoke again. This time so the schooner’s crew could hear him, “A waste of time. I will go aboard the flagship and see what his Lordship plans for this vessel.”
“Sink ’er, I’m thankin’,” Dagan replied in a put on manner.
CHAPTER EIGHT
STEADY AS SHE GOES,” Hex whispered after taking a quick glance at the compass. Gabe sat in the stern sheets as men pulled at the oars. He could remember the cynical smile on his brother’s face as he handed him the letter.
“Love makes one do foolish things, doesn’t it? Present company excluded,” Gabe said. This caused Bart to laugh.
“I guess you propose to see what’s at this rendezvous point?” Lord Anthony asked his brother.
“That was my plan,” Gabe said.
“God’s speed to you,” Lord Anthony had said to his brother, holding up a glass in salute.
Four boats loaded with men were now rowing toward what…? A single ship? Two ships? Capture, pain, imprisonment or even death? Hex, Dagan, and Gabe were in one boat. Captain Leonard Montgomery was in a boat and Gregory Kirk another. Why had he chosen those two? Because they had sailed with him from Antigua…was that it? Did they need their names mentioned in the admiral’s report, the Gazette even? He was not sure of Kirk, he might; but it would be a surety Montgomery would. In all likelihood, he’d reached his terminal rank. For some it would seem a lofty position but for most it was just the first rung.
“There’s a glow ahead, sir,” Crawley, the man who’d been at the grate not three days ago, said.
Turning to Hex, Gabe could just make out the raised eyebrow. Once the man was told he was part of the captain’s crew, only death would have kept him aboard the ship. Lieutenant Laqua was in the fourth boat. Gabe knew the other lieutenants might think Laqua had favor but he’d tried to dispel that notion. He’d gathered his officers in his cabin to apprise them of what was to take place.
Vallin had objected, “Captain, it’s my place to go.”
“No,” Gabe said. “I need someone aboard Leopard who can handle the ship should I fall. You are too important, Mr. Vallin. Unlike some,” he said, as he looked at Lieutenant Laqua; hopefully, the newly made lieutenant saw through his captain’s words.
As the boats neared, a second glow was sighted. Was this one on shore or was there another ship beyond the first? If there were only one ship, two boats would board from each side, larboard and starboard, forward and aft. If there were two, Kirk and Laqua’s boats would head for the second ship. Hopefully, there would be no third vessel.
As they drew nearer, they could see only one ship and the tide had he
r stern on. Gabe wanted to pause to ask the men if they knew what to do. But that would only show his nervousness. They were near now and Hex looked at Gabe, who nodded. The cox’n’s arm rose. The signal for “boat your oars.” Up front a man made ready with the grapnel, his broad back told Gabe that it was Lewis, the bosun’s mate.
The grapnel shot up and over with a dull thud. It held and, as Crawley had hooked onto something with the boat hook, men scrambled up and over. Men were already on the ship’s deck when a shot was fired and someone screamed. It had to be one of the ship’s men as none of their pistols had been charged, Gabe hoped. Now it was his turn, up and over. Forward, the ship’s men were firing at Montgomery’s men.
“At them, men,” Gabe shouted.
Muskets were being fired at the British and then they were used as clubs. Coming up from the sleeping berths, more men charged. Somebody fell in front of Gabe, making him stumble. As he did so, a belaying pin whooshed by, striking someone by the yell that followed. Hex, his blade flashing in the moonlight, cut sleepy men down as he barreled forward. Someone swung a musket, which caught one man, knocking him to the deck but another lunged forward with a boarding pike, impaling the enemy in the abdomen. A sucking sound was heard as the pike was snatched loose, the wounded man’s innards spilling out onto the deck. More shouts were being heard as Laqua’s crew had gained the deck.
Blades clinked against musket barrels, another shot went off and a man near Gabe groaned. As he fell, Dagan took his boarding pike and threw it like a spear, striking the musket man in the chest, its point protruding from his back. The British seamen now seemed to be gaining. Gabe hacked at some man’s blade as another skewered the rogue. It was Crawley, smiling a near toothless smile. Blade to blade they fought. As a man made to club Hex, Gabe swung his blade down, feeling it grate on bone. The muskets were mostly quiet now as nobody had time to reload. A giant of a man clanged blades with Dagan. With a deft movement, Dagan pulled a smaller blade from his sash and rammed it into his foe. The man dropped his cutlass and grabbed his stomach, bending forward. Dagan hit the man on the chin with the hilt of his cutlass, knocking the man backwards and out.
The British, sensing victory, were now like crazed demons as they pushed and parried an attack here and there. Someone seeing it was over cried surrender, but was slashed along his ribs for his troubles. Gabe heard a splash as the man hit the water. Did he jump or was he put over?
A few feet away from where Gabe fought, Captain Montgomery had just downed his foe. Seeing Gabe, he smiled and gave a salute with his blade. The man is a fighter, Gabe decided. A cut and bleeding man with a coat was now facing Gabe. An officer, maybe even the captain. As he made to lunge forward, he fell to his knees. Was he dead or had the fight just gone from him?
Now, it was Gabe, who called, “Surrender. Surrender, in the King’s name.”
One of the privateer’s men shouted, “The captain’s down.”
It was silent then, except for the groans and cries of the wounded. Splashes were heard, several men had jumped over the side. Someone began to load a musket.
“Let them go,” Gabe ordered. “The fight is gone from them.”
“Aye, from us as well, Sir Gabe,” Montgomery said. He’d made it.
Looking about him, Gabe spied Kirk, wounded and holding his arm but he’d survived. A sob was heard and Gabe looked at the deck. There were many who hadn’t made it, from both sides.
***
THE SHIP’S CREW STOOD in defeat. Many of the dead and wounded were their mates. None of the privateers resisted as their weapons were taken and put in a pile. Gabe walked through the corpses until he found the American officer, who was still breathing. Next to the officer lay Crawley. He’d given his all for a man who’d ordered him flogged.
Seeing the little man, Dagan spoke, “He died proud. You gave him worth. He was part of the captain’s boat crew.”
Gabe rose, “See if they have a doctor aboard and take this man to him,” pointing at the American officer.
“Aye,” Hex replied as he lifted the man.
“Mr. Laqua.”
“Yes sir.”
“I congratulate you, sir. A fine job, you did. Your first cutting out, I believe.”
Dagan smiled; Gabe had just built respect for the fourth lieutenant. The men would spread the word once they were back aboard Leopard. Thinking of others…the captain takes time to think of others, after all of this.
CHAPTER NINE
SAIL HO!”
“Where away,” Captain Stephen Earl barked, before either the lieutenant on watch or the master aboard SeaHorse had time to react.
“Dead ahead,” the response came down. “A sloop, she be flying our colors.”
Due to the contrary winds, it took the better part of an hour for the sloop to make its way to the flagship, which was now lying hove-to.
Lieutenant John Jenkins, of sixteen gun HMS Zebra, was greeted at the entry port by Captain Earl. After a pleasant greeting, he was taken below to the admiral’s cabin.
“My Lord,” Jenkins said, with a slight bow, and then getting right to the point, he bluntly stated, “The Dons are out and Admiral Kirkstatter has been taken.”
“Taken,” Lord Anthony said, rising from his chair. He could hardly believe his ears. “What about the ship, man, the ship?”
Jenkins was a former master’s mate who had risen from the ranks. A man Gabe had spoken very highly of was still ill at ease by such a high-ranking officer as Lord Anthony. “The ship was taken as well, sir, with all aboard. It was off the coast of Florida, sir; he came upon three of the Dons’ frigates. One attacked Thorn and the other two went after the flagship. Comete’s rudder was blasted away and the frigates fired on the bow and stern until the admiral surrendered. Thorn was no match for the frigate so Captain Taylor made for the Florida coast where the shallow water kept the frigate from closing. Thorn had taken a beating but was still able to return to Savannah without sinking.”
“What in the world made the admiral sail with only a sloop as an escort?” Lord Anthony asked.
“It’s my understanding, sir, that the governor in Saint Augustine received word that the Dons were to aid a Spaniard…Mr. Bernardo de Gálvez, who is marching toward Mobile with an army. After taking Mobile, they would march on Pensacola. According to the news we received, the campaign was coordinated in Havana where a squadron of ships is supposed to reinforce this Galvez. On top of this, sir, prior to the news about the Dons, the admiral got word that the French Admiral d’Arzac de Ternay has sailed with a convoy carrying six thousand French troops from Brest to aid the Americans. The admiral sent the frigates, Venus and Stag, up the coast to spread the word.”
Admiral Lord Gilbert Anthony paced the deck in his cabin. The French, the Spaniards, and the damnable privateers, were all out to wreak mischief on British shipping and he only had a handful of ships to meet the overwhelming threat. He’d have to divide his command. Not the best choice…but the only one he had.
***
GABE SAILED WITH BULLDOG and Lynx as well as Tomahawk. He was to search out the privateers while his brother, Admiral Lord Anthony, searched for either the Frog fleet or the Dons, supposedly at either Havana or San Juan. Only heaven knew where the French might be. Gabe had tried to persuade his brother that the addition of Leopard’s weight might be the deciding factor if indeed he happened on a fleet, be it Spaniard or French. The question, in Gabe’s mind, was what if I run up on a fleet? He had received a direct order not to engage a superior force. It was that possibility that made Lord Anthony assign Tomahawk to Gabe. If a fleet was sighted, he would shadow it but send Tomahawk for support. Gabe recalled his brother’s harsh words, “I mean it, Gabe. I’m giving you a direct order. You do not engage a superior force. We need all our ships.” Those words stung but the truth was evident. With an arm around Gabe’s shoulder, Gil japed, “Bart would never forgive me if he lost his favorite card player. Who would he fleece then?”
Gabe would weave his way thr
ough the Bahamas and up to Saint Augustine. Shallow waters where his ships could get in close. Lord Anthony’s patrol would revisit Cuba and take a look at the Havana harbor, San Juan, Culebra, and Vieques, and the Virgin Islands, and then they would head back to Grand Cayman but taking their time to look in the harbor at Santiago de Cuba.
Watching Gabe sail away, Bart looked at Lord Anthony and said, “Not much of a war when yew has to play hide and seek with yer enemy. I miss the days where the liners stand broadside and him that’s got the best gunners wins.”
“Aye,” Lord Anthony agreed. “It’s not the kind of war we have been trained to fight, and the reason the Americans will win this war. They will haul their wind and await better odds. Can you see a British officer doing that? No,” Lord Anthony said, answering his own question. “Belief in their ships, their men, and yes, even pride in themselves. I tell you, Bart, I don’t want to see Gabe, or any other of my captains lost by taking unnecessary chances.”
“Aye,” Bart agreed, “and lady luck is bound to run out. Dagan or not, Gabe ’as pushed it, I’m thinking.”
“My thinking as well, old friend,” Anthony responded, pouring himself a snifter of brandy and motioning with the decanter to see if Bart cared for one. “I’d rather see him beached than face odds like he did last year. He’s a changed man, Bart.”
Taking his pipe from his mouth, Bart tucked it in a pocket. “That ’e be. ’E’s still trying to live up to Lord James’ standards…and ’is brother’s.”
Lord Anthony paused, his snifter in mid-air, “You think so, Bart?”
“No thinkin to it, ’e does,” Bart replied.
As per Lord Anthony’s orders to the sentries, his flag lieutenant did not have to be announced to enter the cabin. Because of that order, Lieutenant Patrick Mahan had entered in time to see and hear the conversation that had just taken place. Was there another admiral in the entire Navy, who would offer his cox’n a glass and carry on a conversation about his Lordship’s brother? Lieutenant Mahan didn’t think so. Not in the Royal Navy, and maybe not in any Navy. But that was one of the things that made Lord Anthony special. It was why he was proud to serve his Lordship as flag lieutenant when commands had been offered, such as the just-captured brigantine. He was offered it but decided to stay with the flag. Tapping against the pantry door, Lieutenant Mahan made himself known.