by Michael Aye
“Takes a minute to get our night vision,” Hex volunteered.
“Aye,” someone replied.
Leopard’s deck canted as she swung around to take up her station. Now it was a game of nerves.
“Shall I feed the hands by station, Captain?” the first lieutenant asked.
Gabe gave it some thought. “Have the cook and the mess man from each mess break away by section. Cheese and a cold biscuit may be all we have time for.”
“Yes sir,” Vallin replied, turning to issue the orders.
***
THE NIGHT SEEMED TO be eerily silent. The men had eaten their meager meal at their stations. Nobody was talking. Other than the sounds a ship makes sailing through the water, it was silent.
Overhead, an excited lookout shouted down, “To starboard, a ship, off the starboard beam.” The voice was frantic. “A big bitch she be.”
“Fire a broadside,” Gabe ordered.
The only big ship in the squadron was the flagship, and it was to larboard. The enemy had clamped on all sails and put out its lanterns. A good trick, somebody had imagination. The cannons were hauled into place and one after another the guns fired, not a timed effort, but even with a ragged broadside some of the balls should find their mark.
“Look away, look away from the flashes,” Vallin was shouting. Glad he’s on the ball, Gabe swore to himself. Had it been left up to me to give the order most of the crew would have night blindness.
The enemy fired then, the flashes seen before the sounds of the cannons were heard. The tongues of flames were followed by the sounds of balls slamming into Leopard’s side. The ship was being hit time and time again.
“Aim at the flashes, Mr. Laqua,” Gabe shouted. This time, Leopard’s guns were more uniform as they gave a deafening roar as they were fired.
“The lower deck, Mr. Vallin, have the lower decks fire. Mr. Laqua, have a measure of grape put atop the balls.” The lieutenant saluted with his sword. The enemy was firing again at Leopard.
“Faster,” Vallin said, “three minutes or less.”
Part of the bulwark was shattered, lines and riggings were cut but the mast still held. Some of the balls had entered open gun ports, plowing into a twenty-four pounder and knocking it over and on top of all but the gun captain. The screams of the wounded and dying men could be heard above the cannon fire.
“The flagship is firing to starboard,” Vallin announced.
Hopefully, Phoenix was not in the mix. She’d never stand such an onslaught. Leopard seemed to lurch to leeward as the upper and lower gun decks fired almost at once. Hex was thrown to the deck and was barely missed by a red hot ball that landed just behind him, searing the deck and leaving a huge gouge in the planks. The thick smoke took the air from a man’s lungs and made him cough and choke. Another ball slammed into an open port. The ball struck the carriage, sending splinters everywhere as it disintegrated. A powder boy suddenly ceased to be, his body turned into a pulp as it hit the deck, leaving little more than a bloody blob. As bad as Leopard was receiving, it seemed that the enemy seventy-four was getting the worst of it.
Dagan grabbed Gabe’s arm and pointed to the enemy ship. A ball had struck a gun that was being loaded, igniting the powder bag and now a blaze could be seen through an open gun port. They’d have to take men away from their guns to deal with that or the entire ship would soon be on fire.
“Mr. Laqua,” Gabe shouted. “Fire at the flames…direct your fire toward the flames.”
Laqua had the guns elevated and aimed. “Fire as you bear,” he ordered. “Fire as you bear.”
Gabe counted the shots that went off. Three, three guns didn’t fire. Three of Leopard’s upper deck guns were out of action. The flames on the enemy ship grew. Shouting, curses, and threats could be heard coming from the enemy ship. She broke off the battle and swung to starboard.
“A broadside up her arse?” Vallin questioned.
“I think not,” Gabe said. “There’s no honor in firing on a burning ship. Let’s go about setting Leopard to rights. The flagship is still firing; we may be called upon to assist.”
“Aye,” Vallin responded. “But I can hardly see a damn thing. I’m sure had it not been for the enemy’s flashes, Laqua would have been firing blindly.”
Across the way, the flagship was keeping up a steady barrage and further to leeward two other ships were firing. Gabe felt he should try to add assistance but they could fire on or be fired on by friend as likely as foe. No, it was better to remain on station where she was expected to be unless otherwise signaled by lanterns. Besides, he had no idea how badly his ship was faring. Vallin had the bosun, the carpenter, and their mates going through the ship, checking for damage already.
The lookout called down, “Looks like one of the Don’s brigs has pulled alongside the burning ship.”
“Taking off her people,” Pittman said.
It was the first they’d spoken since the battle had begun. Lieutenant Laqua had climbed the steps to the main deck to ask if he should fire on the brig. The flames had her lit up. Seeing his captain standing there, Laqua turned back. The captain was not one to fire on a rescue ship, enemy or not.
Gabe and Dagan watched as boats quickly crossed back and forth between the brig and the flaming ship. Overhead, a deep rumble was heard, thunder in the distance. As the brig sailed off into the dark, raindrops began to fall; big drops that splattered when they hit the deck. Hex went below to get the captain’s tarpaulin. He came back with it in one hand and a cup in the other. Nesbit had managed to heat up a cup of coffee and following Silas, Lord Anthony’s servant’s, example, he had added a dollop of brandy.
The flagship was no longer firing. Gabe was not sure when the further ships had broken off action. Flares broke out from the flagship and lantern signals were hoisted, heave to. The admiral would lay hove to tonight and see what the dawn offered.
Aboard Leopard it would be a sleepless night. The carpenter and his mates were already at it, the thud of their hammers audible on deck.
Vallin came on deck and rushed over to where Gabe stood. Without a coat on, his shirt was quickly soaked to the skin. “Nothing below the water line. They must have thought we were another seventy-four. Most of the damage is from the upper gun deck upwards. A lot of deck planking will have to be replaced.” Across the water the flames on the enemy ship were diminishing. “We might be able to salvage the abandoned ship,” he said. “A bit of prize money would be pleasing.”
“Aye,” the master agreed.
Well, things can’t be too bad if they can think of prize money, Gabe thought. “At your convenience, Con, pry the purser from his hole and issue a double ration to the men. They deserve it.”
“Aye,” the lieutenant replied, thinking, that’s the first time a captain has called me by my first name.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DAWN FOUND THE HORIZON empty except for Lord Anthony’s ships and the abandoned seventy-four which, surprising to all, still floated. The rain had barely started when the Spaniards abandoned the ship, thinking the worst. However, there she sat, mast empty of sail and one gun port charred, but no other apparent fire damage. The larboard side, which now faced Leopard, was minus a big portion of her upper rails and the jib boom was gone. An anchor hung down where she’d broken loose.
“It’s time,” Hex spoke to Gabe.
Gabe nodded and looked about the crew, tired but victorious. Gabe looked over at Vallin. The ship lay motionless. The topgallant yards were a-cockbill. Eighteen bodies lay on the deck. Their messmates had placed them each in canvas with two cannon balls at their feet to ensure sinking. The canvas had been sewn, starting from the feet and going upwards. The last stitch placed through the man’s nose to make sure he was indeed dead. The bodies were then placed on the eight man mess table and covered with a red insignia. Due to the lack of flags, the men would be buried in groups of six.
The bosun’s pipe sounded for the funeral service. Gabe stepped forward as the first lieutena
nt ordered hats off. Gabe took his prayer book as Dagan handed it to him. Every crewman stood with head bowed. Gabe started to speak but couldn’t. He swallowed and tried to take his mind off of the sobs and weeping from men who’d lost their mates.
He read aloud, “I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
Gabe then turned the prayer book to the last page where he’d written in and continued, “In the hope of hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ we commend to the Almighty God our shipmates…”
He then called out the names of those fallen men, six at a time. When a name was called, it was usually met with a few sobs or God bless him. It was rare a man didn’t have at least one mate to mourn his passing. Pausing until the last splash was heard, Gabe finished the service, “We commit these bodies to the depths…Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless and keep these men. The Lord make his face to shine upon these men and be gracious unto them. The Lord lift up his countenance upon them and give them peace. Amen.”
When it was only one burial, Gabe would usually read the Lord’s Prayer but he felt that today brevity was called for.
Vallin dismissed the crew from the funeral service and walked over to his captain. Gabe looked at Vallin and said, “Give the men a quarter hour, and then call away my gig. Put the carpenter, the bosun, and a squad of marines in it and a long boat. You may pick a midshipman and a lieutenant to accompany us. I want to look through that ship before his Lordship calls for his captains to repair on board.”
“The flagship has just finished with their funeral service, sir, but the frigate’s service seems to still be going on,” Vallin informed Gabe.
“Let’s not start any hammering or sawing until they have finished,” Gabe replied.
“Aye! Sir Gabe, I would have to be sinking before I did anything that would be considered disrespectful.”
“I know that, Con.”
Going below to change, Gabe told Hex to get his crew together once all services were concluded. Tonight, God willing, he’d try to write to those families who had lost their sons. Midshipman James, whose flowing blonde hair, sunburn nose, ready smile and freckles, had been standing next to Gabe as the captain’s messenger when suddenly he dropped to the deck. He was struck by a ball from a marksman, who had probably been aiming at the captain, not the boy. The midshipman was but twelve. How many lieutenants waiting for that lofty goal of command ever thought of these aspects? He hadn’t. Eighteen dead, most of them from the upper deck gun crews. Cornish had only reported a dozen or so wounded. Of them, most were only minor injuries.
***
A KNOCK WAS HEARD as the marine sentry announced, “Mr. Jackson, sir, midshipman of the watch.” Removing his hat, the midshipman entered the cabin as his captain was putting on his sea boots. He’d worn his dress uniform for the service and now having changed he was putting on his boots.
“Mr. Vallin’s compliments, sir, but voices can be heard from the abandoned ship.”
“Voices,” Gabe repeated.
“Aye, sir. Some of the hands think it’s the ghost of them that was left without proper burial.”
“Ghost, you say,” Gabe repeated, trying not to snicker. “What do you think, Dagan?”
“I don’t doubt voices can be heard but it’s the wrong moon for ghosts. They only come out with a full moon and last night we had little more than a sliver of moon,” Dagan said.
“There you have it, Mr. Jackson. Tell the first lieutenant I will be up directly and…” Gabe leaned forward and whispered, “Tell the crew Dagan said that we had the wrong moon for ghosts.”
“Oh yes sir, Captain. Dagan would know.” The boy then turned and rushed from the cabin.
“I wonder what stories he’ll tell,” Dagan asked, causing both he and Gabe to laugh.
Once Gabe and Dagan were back on deck, Vallin reported that the boats were ready. “Lieutenant Laqua and Midshipman Hunter will go over to the abandoned ship with you. Have you heard the voices, Con?” Gabe asked.
“Yes sir, but I couldn’t make out what was being said,” Con replied.
Nodding, Gabe said, “You’d best send one of the lieutenants over to the flag and let them know we are investigating voices from the enemy ship. And Con!”
“Sir!”
“Don’t mention the ghost.”
“No sir,” the first lieutenant replied, smiling. “But I’m sure his Lordship would enjoy such a concern.”
“Bart would anyway,” Dagan threw in.
“Lieutenant Bufford,” Vallin called, as he walked away. “Please carry a message to the flagship. Voices have been heard from the abandoned enemy ship. Boats are being sent to investigate.”
The captain’s gig led off toward the abandoned ship. They’d gone about half-way when they could hear the voices. One of the oarsmen broke time as the sound appeared to frighten the seaman.
“Mind your oars,” Hex snapped. “Give way all. Jumpy bunch they are, Captain, but if one does such a foolish stunt again, he’ll be working for the purser, that he will.” Hex’s comments caused a few snickers. Winking at his captain, Hex ordered, “Quiet in the boat.”
Once they were along side, Lieutenant Laqua called, “Captain, do you recognize her?”
Gabe’s mind had been on what it would take to have the ship made ready for sail. But now that Laqua had mentioned it, she was familiar.
“She’s Comete,” Dagan said. “The ship you captured and the Dons took from the admiral.”
Dammit, it was Comete. Once the boat was made fast, Gabe sped up the side of the ship and through the entry port. Dagan was behind him and then Laqua, the carpenter, and bosun.
“Call out, Hex.”
“Ahoy, mates, ahoy.”
The longboat was hooked on and Midshipman Hunter came aboard, followed by the marines. “Forward, sir. I think they are forward.” Moving rapidly through the ship, voices were heard as they moved toward the fo’c’sle.
“They’re British,” Dagan said. “They’ve been locked in the fo’c’sle.”
The door leading into the fo’c’sle was padlocked. “You there, Sergeant,” Gabe addressed the marine sergeant, “Have someone pry this hasp off.”
A big marine came forth and, removing his bayonet from his musket, he picked at the wood until he could pry the metal clasp from the wood, which made a groaning sound as it gave way. The door was flung open and the first man Gabe saw was Trident’s old master, Mr. Hayes.
“Thank God, sir, you are a sight for these old eyes.”
Gabe couldn’t help but smile as several of his old crew stepped forward, and there at the rear stood his nemesis, Admiral Kirkstatter. “Sir Winston,” Gabe said.
“Captain,” the admiral replied.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ADMIRAL, I THINK YOU should come see this.” Lord Anthony looked up at the smiling face of his flag captain.
“Is it that amusing, Stephen?”
“I would say so, my Lord, although some might call it due justice.”
“Come on, Bart, let’s go see what my flag captain has found to excite such a smile.”
As the trio left the cabin, they ran into Lieutenant Mahan. He had just left the main deck to inform the admiral of a sighting, but a quick finger to the lips to hush him made him stand aside.
“Come along, Patrick, I can see you’re about to bust a gut but let’s not spoil our captain’s fun.” Gabe’s gig, followed by a longboat, was headed to the flagship. Huzzah’s had gone up as they rowed past Leopard.
Captain Earl handed the admiral a glass, “Look who’s sitting beside Gabe, my Lord.”
Taking the glass, Lord Anthony focused in and then swore. “Well damme, just damme. Captain Earl, prepare to give our visitors due honors.”
“Aye, my Lord, we wanted you to see it first. There are several of our seamen in the longboat including Lieutenant
Hawks and Trident’s old master, Mr. David Hayes. Wonder, sir, just ’ow many times Gabe…Cap’n Anthony has gotta take that bloody ship?”
“Do you recognize her, Bart?”
“Aye, Admiral, just like I’d recognize me own mom. She be the Comete, what Cap’n Anthony took last year. Now ’e’s took ’er again. Do yew get prize money twice, I’m wondering.”
“You scoundrel,” Lord Anthony snapped. “Think of the people.”
“Oh, I is, sir. A little extra prize money would come in handy to more’n a few.”
“Us being in sight didn’t fit in to your thoughts did they?”
“No, but now you mentioned it I’d not turn down a guinea or two,” Bart said.
Captain Earl interrupted Bart’s banter. “Do you know, my Lord, what Gabe did with a sixty-four, he’s now done with a fifty gun ship. They were never made to stand in the line of battle.”
“You’re right, Captain, but for a lucky shot the outcome might have been much different.”
“Aye, you’re right, my Lord, but we can’t think about ‘might haves’, we have to deal with what did happen. And what happened was a British captain in a fifty gun ship defeated a Spaniard in a seventy-four. We sunk one but it was an equal fight. We were supposed to win. We’d never live it down if we lost. It may be Dagan’s luck or any number of reasons. But the facts are the facts. Now, my only question is will Sir Winston have changed his mind?”
“He damn well better have, Captain, or I’ll make sure he’s put ashore never to command again.”
“That may be done for you, sir. He will have to answer to a court martial on how he lost his ship. He can’t place all the blame on Comete’s captain.”
“We’ll see,” Lord Anthony replied. “When he comes aboard, you can escort him down to my cabin. Then after a few minutes, duty will require you on deck. You and Lieutenant Mahan talk with Lieutenant Hawks.”
“What about Gabe, sir?”
“I’m sure he has duties enough putting his ship and the…ah, prize back to rights. Tell him I expect a full report once the prize has been evaluated.”