HMS Seawolf tfa-2

by Michael Aye

  "Well, my Lord, I'm told freezing is less painful."

  "Have you ever asked anyone that's been burned alive or frozen to death, Dutch?"

  "No, my Lord, I can't say as I have," Dutch answered smiling.

  "Then we don't really know, do we?" Lord Anthony quipped. "And I'd rather not learn from experience."

  "No, my Lord, neither would I. Speaking of New York, my Lord, they found that contraption that created such a commotion. It's called a submersible or a submarine. One man fits inside and uses a hand crank that turns a propeller that pushes the contraption through the water. A torpedo was attached to a harpoon and driven into the targets hull. Then a fuse is lit. When a signal was given the contraption was hauled away by a party ashore using a tow line attached to its stern.

  The torpedo fuses were cut at different lengths to give the devil time to do his handiwork before anyone knew something was amiss."

  "Not an honorable way to fight a war is it, Dutch?"

  "Nay, my Lord but one has to recognize the genius behind such a scheme."

  "Oh, I do recognize that and a lot more as well, especially after my conversation with General Clinton. The Army is treating this war more as an outing than a war. Admiral Shuldham is being sent back to England. Rumor has it Admiral Lord Howe is taking over as Commander-in-Chief, Naval forces.

  "I understand Admiral Graves is to be Lord Howe's second and he's to be in charge until Lord Howe arrives."

  "Maybe when Lord Howe arrives we will get reinforcements."

  "Aye, my Lord, we need them. Twenty-nine ships to patrol eighteen hundred miles of coast from Florida to Nova Scotia. That's a tall order for our entire fleet. It's impossible with our measly twenty-nine ships, most of which are unrated."

  "I know Dutch."

  "Bart!"

  "Aye, my Lord."

  "Have the flag lieutenant bring me those dispatches."

  "Right away, sir."

  ***

  "Dreaming of some lass from home are we, sir?"

  Lieutenant Francis Markham had been sitting at the wardroom table staring at an empty cup and daydreaming when Bart had stuck his head in the door to deliver his lordship's summons. The wardroom was generally off limits to the crew, but the officers on board Warrior soon learned "the Admiral's cox'n" pretty much came and went as he pleased.

  The fifth lieutenant feeling his prowess in his shiny new uniform had once made the mistake of ordering Bart to report to the bosun for extra duty as he had appeared to have an abundance of time on his hands.

  Bart had been sitting aft on the bulwark smoking his pipe. Lord Anthony overhearing the upstart called to his flag captain, "I say Captain Moffett would you be so kind as to remind the fifth lieutenant he'd be better suited tending to his duties than interfering in the affairs of my staff?"

  "Aye, my Lord. Mr. Johns!"

  "Yes, captain."

  "Did you hear his Lordship?"

  "Aye, captain."

  "Do I have to say more?"

  "No, captain."

  "Let's hope not you damn imbecile. Can't you see his coat's gilted with more gold than you'll ever wear?"

  "No, sir, I mean I didn't at the time but I do now, sir."

  "Very well then Mr. Johns. Go see the first lieutenant with my compliments and tell him how you're to be available for any additional tasks he might need accomplished."

  "Aye, captain. I'll see him now, sir!" Since that episode Bart and the rest of Anthony's staff were treated with respect.

  ***

  A loud THUD!

  "Zur, the flag lieutenant, zur." The unexpected shout and stamping on the floor made Anthony jump, spilling what was left of his coffee on the flag captain.

  "Damme man, I'm not deef."

  "Silas!" Lord Anthony exclaimed, then turning to the flag captain he apologized, "I'm sorry Dutch."

  "Yes, my Lord."

  "See to Captain Moffett's uniform if you will."

  "Aye, my Lord. I'll tend to it now." Turning back Anthony again apologized, "I'm really sorry Dutch. I told Dunlap to instruct the sentries to simply knock."

  Standing behind Anthony, Bart looked sheepishly at Markham. He and Markham had discussed this situation in the past. Bart couldn't help but believe that the sentry stamped his musket butt on the deck just a little harder than necessary just to see the admiral jump. It was a dangerous game if he and Markham 's suspicions were true.

  Maybe he'd pay the lout a special visit and give a word of warning "Bart style".

  "Iffen yews like sir, I's could see the surgeon and get a bit of cotton wadding to stuff in yew's ears so's the sentry wouldn't startle yew so."

  "Shut up Bart."

  "Aye, sir. Course we could always flog the bloody bullock so as to make ’em a's zample to the utter sentries."

  "Bart!"

  "Aye, sir. Shut me trap I will and head topside me thinks. It's a little to warm for me liken down here."

  As Bart closed the door behind him, Markham exploded with laughter then saw the stare he got from Captain Moffett and Lord Anthony.

  However, their stare only lasted a moment before they too joined in, causing Markham to start up again.

  As always Bart had got the last word in before leaving.

  "It's a wonder you haven't set that one adrift," Dutch said when he could catch his breath.

  "Aye," Anthony replied, "but Bart grows on you, Dutch. It'd be hard for me to imagine life in the Navy without him."

  Markham felt humbled and touched at his Lordship's words.

  Sitting in the pantry, Silas shook his head as he was deep in thought. Bart was full of more shit than a holiday turkey. He'd better be glad he was the cox'n. Otherwise, he'd been in a prison hulk somewhere. Some wondered at the relationship between Bart and Lord Anthony. Yes, some wondered but Silas knew.

  When his Lordship was a lieutenant and Bart was a seaman on board the brig, Southwind, Anthony had caught Flagge, the first lieutenant, sodomizing one of the servants. The captain was not on board and Anthony was unsure of what actions to take.

  He knew the lout should stand a court martial for

  "buggery". He went ashore that evening and Flagge had Anthony ambushed in an alleyway.

  Bart had been ashore and happened on the event.

  While some would have run away, Bart didn't.

  He'd liked the young lieutenant who was in charge of his division and he hated Flagge. He'd had his own suspicions about the first lieutenant's ways.

  Bart pulled his knife and picked up a broken barrel stave, and charged into the melee. Bart's intervention saved young Lieutenant Anthony's life.

  Two of Flagge's men were killed, and two ran off.

  Bart was shot in the shoulder and Flagge was killed from a knife wound…Bart's knife! After hearing of Flagge's death, the servant fled, never to be heard from again. With both parties gone it would have been difficult to prove Flagge had A n t h o n y attacked.

  Although Bart was wounded, it was his glib tongue that made up the story as to how he, Lieutenant Anthony and the first lieutenant were set upon by thieves. The story was never questioned and Bart had been with Anthony ever since.

  ***

  "Damme, my Lord, but that's a tall order," Dutch had just read the orders that were to employ Lord Anthony's squadron until…

  "Ye are directed to immediately proceed on a!cruize to provide protection of trade for his Majesty's loyal merchants."

  "Ye are directed to range the coast of Provence of Main…and from thence proceed farr southward as latitude thirty-four north and not further west than the shoals of Nantuckett nor further east than the Island [of] Sable, on the coast of Nova Scotia."

  "Ye are to remain on station until weather and halidays cease the merchant trade."

  After Captain Moffett read Lord Anthony's orders they were returned to Lieutenant Markham to be put away. Markham had read the orders and

  couldn't help but wonder who had written them.

  He was not at the top of hi
s class in composition and spelling but he was sure he could have done a better job. This had probably been done by some flag lieutenant who held his commission out of favoritism.

  Markham had accepted his present

  appointment as Lord Anthony's flag lieutenant out of respect. He had the education which some apparently lacked, if those orders were an indication. He had the background and certainly he had the family and Navy name recognition. He had been a midshipman under then Captain Anthony on HMS Drakkar. He had made lieutenant at the same time as Gabe, Lord Anthony's brother.

  He was honored to be the flag lieutenant and didn't want to appear ungrateful, but what he really wanted was a ship.

  Damn Gabe, the lucky sod. SeaWolf. Now that was as fine a vessel as anyone could hope for as a first command. He didn't begrudge Gabe his ship; he just wished he could be as lucky. However, he was in the best spot, right here in front of the Admiral should a vacancy arise, or a prize become available.

  Damn Gabe, though. Then Markham felt a bit of guilt at his feeling. He sure missed Gabe, but damn him anyway. He'd buy the first round next time, just because he was such a lucky sod.

  Chapter Three

  As Gabe strode forward, the wind picked up.

  He could feel his loose clothing pressed tight against his body and his hair was blowing with the wind.

  He held onto a shroud as SeaWolf’s sharp bow cut through the water. He was exhilarated. Fourteen knots, my God what speed, muttered Gabe. He was sure he could coax another knot out of her.

  When he was away from the squadron Gabe would put on every inch of SeaWolf’s canvas and let her fly as he was doing now. Not unlike a thoroughbred at the downs he thought. But Lord Sandwich was right. She was a predator too, and he wondered how long it would be before she fired her guns in anger.

  Delivering dispatches was not the type of work Gabe would have chosen but it did allow a certain degree of freedom. One appealing aspect was that it got him away from the squadron and the Admiral. An admiral was always an admiral even if he was your brother. He did miss Gil. They had shared some good times and bad ones over the last few years. Gabe had joined his brother's ship as a midshipman but had matured into a man amidst the din of battle.

  ***

  "Sail ho! Two sails on the far horizon!"

  "Are they British?"

  Gabe turned finding Mr. Davy before him-another boy who'd grown into a mature seasoned fighter on board Drakkar.

  "Why don't you grab a glass and go aloft so that I may have a proper report, Mr. Davy?"

  "Aye, sir."

  "Mr. Hazard! Mr. Lavery! We might be in for a bit of excitement today."

  "Aye, sir," they said in unison, both excited at the possibility of prize money, but Hazard more so than Lavery. Hazard's father had worked at the

  "Boston Company" and had been able to help his son advance to master's mate. However, since the war had broken out, Hazard's father had been let go from the firm for not showing enough patriotic enthusiasm. In truth, he agreed with the colonies but felt diplomacy was better than war. Now the family was dependent on Lieutenant Everette Hazard for survival.

  Hazard didn't need to be told how lucky he was to have his commission. He felt luckier still having Lieutenant Gabe Anthony as the SeaWolf’s captain.

  He'd heard some of the crew tell stories of their captain. It was said he made a fortune in prize money just before the war. Hopefully Everette Hazard might be able to pick up a guinea or two.

  Watching Mr. Davy slide down the shrouds

  reminded Hazard of what he'd been told of the diminutive young gentleman. Slight in frame he may be, but fearless. Those words from Dagan who rarely spoke. Hazard had seen the long wide scar along his rib cage where he'd been pierced by a huge splinter when Drakkar defeated the fifty-gun pirate vessel, Reaper. The boy was somewhat of a hero to the men and would make a fine officer.

  Hazard only hoped he would fair as well, and felt a jealous pang as he thought of the relationship between Davy and the captain. Hazard had also not failed to notice that whenever someone seemed to question Davy's authority, the mysterious Dagan loomed.

  "Two sails, Cap'n, just as the look-out said.

  They appear to be on a nor-nor-westerly heading.

  However a silvery brown patch off starboard appears to be another set of sails. We should have a better view soon. It's right where blue meets blue and I almost missed it."

  Gabe turned to Dagan, "Hear that? He almost missed it."

  "Damme sir, but damme the boy's got eyes, ain't he?" Dagan proclaimed.

  "Mr. Blake!"

  "Aye, cap'n."

  "Set us a course to intercept Mr. Davy's sighting yonder. Mr. Hazard, once we can better identify those sails be prepared to go to quarters."

  "Aye, cap'n. Think she's a privateer?"

  "Who knows, Mr. Hazard. My question is why those other two ships left her. They had to have seen her and we've not seen or heard any gunfire.

  If she's British we'll get the latest news. If she's a privateer we'll fatten our purses."

  "Aye, sir. Mine could stand a little fat. It's been lean for a spell now."

  "Deck there," the lookout called down. "She's changing her tack."

  Gabe looked to his first lieutenant. "No gossip today, Mr. Hazard. Beat to quarters if you will, but to be on the safe side put up our signal and see if she answers with the correct recognition."

  "Aye, sir."

  "Would you like for me to go aloft again, Mr. Hazard?"

  "Eager today are we, Mr. Davy?"

  "Aye, sir."

  "Mr. Davy?"

  "Aye, Cap'n."

  "I surely expected you to be at your battle station by now and not trying to trick the first lieutenant into approving a skylarking trip for you.

  Surely, sir, I've not misplaced my trust in you have I?"

  "Nay, Cap'n, I'll make you proud," Davy replied as he scampered off to his station, smiling as he noticed Dagan's wink when he passed by him.

  "Mr. Druett."

  "Aye, Cap'n," the gunner answered.

  "As soon as we're in range I want you to put a ball across that one's bow."

  "Aye, Cap'n, I'll scorch its bowsprit, I will."

  "Deck there," the lookout called down, "She be a schooner, sir. Colonial from the looks of things." B O O M!…Druett had let loose with the forward six-pounder.

  "Deck there," the lookout called again, "She's a Jonothan, sir, and she's raised her colors and opened her starboard gun ports. She be a fourteen gunner, sir."

  "Very well. Mr. Hazard, I want to keep a crew on the forward gun but it's the starboard guns I want manned."

  "Mr. Blake," Gabe called to the master, "ease her a bit but be ready to put her helm down. I want to cross her stern and come up on her larboard side so be ready."

  "Aye, Cap'n," the master nodded, beginning to understand what his master was about.

  BOOM!…Druett had let loose with another shot and it landed just ahead of the chase,

  drenching all those at the forward guns with its spray.

  SeaWolf continued to overreach her prey. Her bow sliced the water as a strong wind caught her sails from dead astern and seemed to slingshot her forward, the wind fairly whistling through the shrouds. SeaWolf gained on the schooner at an alarming speed. Dagan was suddenly beside Gabe and said, "She's not handled well, is she," referring to the schooner. SeaWolf was now almost directly up with her prey. The deck vibrated as Druett let loose another round, this one striking the schooner about level with the foremast.

  "Now, Mr. Blake," Gabe ordered, trying to shout above the wind. "Put your helm down Lively now. Hands to sheets. Reduce sail." SeaWolf heeled sharply as she crossed in the schooner's wake. Blake could just imagine the bowsprit up the schooners gallery.

  "Steady," Gabe called, "Hold her."

  Hazard and Blake looked at each other. If SeaWolf made it, it was a clever maneuver. If not, they'd have a new cap'n very soon. The admiralty didn't take kindly to new captai
ns ramming their ships bowsprit up another ship's arse-hole.

  SeaWolf’s rudder bit into water and she began to swing just as Gabe had planned. Crossing the schooner's wake caused SeaWolf to suddenly list larboard as her gunwales dipped into the trough. A large wave broke over the bow as they broke

  through the water. Water sluiced down the length of SeaWolf’s scuppers and hands had to grab hold of something to keep from falling.

  "That's it, ease her up now, ease up, full and by.

  Open your starboard gun ports."

  Damn, thought Hazard. They'd crossed the schooner's stern with no more than a chain's length to spare. Hazard's knuckles had turned white from gripping a stay. Now that the maneuver was over he felt dumbfounded and grateful they hadn't capsized. He seemed numb. He'd never seen a ship handled so.

  "Think he's crazy, don't you?"

  Hazard looked at Nathan Lavery, the second and only other lieutenant on board. Without waiting for Hazard to answer Lavery added, "Better get used to it. He's not squeamish." The roar of SeaWolf’s cannons startled Hazard.

  Still somewhat numb and temporarily in thought of Lavery's words he was caught unaware when Gabe gave the order to fire. Smoke engulfed the ship momentarily till the wind carried it forward.

  Thank God Druett has got his wits about him, Hazard thought, cause I'm making a poor showing.

  "Fire! That's it, lads, fire! Let them Jonathans feel ole SeaWolfy's fangs. That's it, now put your backs into it. Swab out. Swab out you buggers." BOOM!…BOOM!…BOOM!…

  SeaWolf’s six pounders roared again-gun drill had paid off. The gun crews were like a well oiled machine.

  "Once more now lads, on the up roll fire!"

  "Cease fire, cease firing," Gabe bellowed, countermanding his orders from just a breath before. "Cease firing, they've surrendered." The schooner had struck. A white flag, a shirt tied by the sleeves to a gaff hook was being waved.

  "She never recovered from your ruse, cap'n," Lavery addressed Gabe. "She was ready starboard, but never got a gun in action to larboard. She never fired a shot."