Quarterdeck

by David O'Neil

  As Antonio rose to leave, Martin added, “We need to leave the frigate to Hera and Spartan, though as you know, whatever we plan will probably end up with the usual debacle of opportunism and luck.”

  Antonio walked to the cabin door, saying “It will be approaching dark when the French reach us. I think it would be worth approaching them on a closing course, to retain the windward advantage. It should mean more time before nightfall also.”

  “I agree.” Martin nodded slowly. “We both have work to do before this encounter. The Captain of the Lorient still thinks his big guns will be enough to handle two frigates. Let’s prove him wrong!”

  As his friend left, Martin could not help wondering if they would survive to meet again. After all, a 74 gun ship was no pushover, at any time.

  ***

  It was almost a foregone conclusion that Hera would find the French.

  The topsails of the schooner, visible on the horizon, altered their angle. During the next hour the ships closed to a point, where the signal Hera flew was identified by the nearest member of the squadron. HMS Spartan, cruising almost one mile downwind of Vixen, repeated the signal, ‘enemy in sight, two ships.’

  It was not quite noon when the signal was received. Martin, having acknowledged the signal, had a decision to make. If he turned and ran downwind to intercept now there would, either be an encounter in the dark or they would possibly miss the enemy completely during the night hours, with the chance that they could complete their crossing without being brought to battle. On the other hand they could run into the French and be seriously damaged, or even sunk, from one broadside from the 24 and 36 pounder guns of the French 74.

  There were other options of course, ranging from: Sinking the French 74 (unlikely). Capturing the frigate? Capturing both ships? Plus all the combinations of damage to his ships, loss of one or all, injuries to many, or all, including himself.

  He considered all the options available and decided that the ideas, he had discussed with Antonio Ramos, were still the best option.

  With a slight alteration of course, the two frigates and HMS Spartan left to rendezvous with HMS Hera, leaving HMS Lively, to escort Mohawk, and the other two merchantmen Henry James and Bangor, on their continuing voyage to Falmouth.

  ***

  Before the ships separated, Julia Savage had herself rowed across to speak with Martin, arriving on deck dressed in breeches and armed with pistols and sword.

  In the great cabin she stood, angry at being left out of what was obviously going to be a difficult encounter with the enemy. “Commodore Forest-Bowers!” she said angrily. I have a ship of twenty guns, capable of defending myself and also of mounting an attack. I appreciate that you feel it necessary to escort me and the two cargo tubs through dangerous waters. I also understand your need to take on the Frenchmen just over the horizon. What I do not understand is why you feel we need further escort between here and Falmouth. HMS Lively is hardly better armed than Mohawk. It is obvious to me that she would be better used with your force, leaving Mohawk to escort the other two merchantmen.

  Dominic Gordon had accompanied Martin on Vixen thus far. He joined Martin in the great cabin. His arrival delayed Martin’s reply to Julia.

  When he spoke, he was careful to make sure there would be no misunderstanding. “Captain Savage, Julia, your arrival here is fortuitous. Your offer is appreciated. But I must inform you that when the Royal Navy undertakes to escort a convoy, while there is a naval ship afloat. it remains the responsibility of that naval ship to protect the convoy. HMS Lively will escort the convoy to Falmouth, and onwards as required.

  “However it would be appreciated if you could offer passage to Mr. Gordon. I would be happy to transfer him to Lively. But I am assured he would rather enjoy the company of friends, if there is space for him to join you and your passengers?”

  Julia shrugged. “What can I say? I have made my offer. You have explained why you cannot accept. Of course we would be delighted to accommodate Dominic. The others are fed up with my company, I am sure. Please inform Lieutenant Keats that Mohawk is at his disposal, if needed. Bon voyage, Martin. I’ll await you in Falmouth.”

  As she departed with Dominic in tow, Martin stood smiling. Typical of Julia to make such an offer. He sighed. She would have made a great frigate captain were she a man.

  ***

  The three ships gradually closed on the shadowing schooner. The afternoon became evening and then darkness fell.

  On the schooner they showed a small light to the three British ships. Lieutenant Harris had drawn closer, meanwhile, to the two French ships, both of whom were showing lights so that they could maintain contact without the danger of colliding. They had also reduced sail for the overnight period, a practice regularly followed by merchant ships, though not always by naval ships. As dawn approached the enemies converged.

  Martin, happy to keep the weather gauge, depended on the Hera to keep himself in position for an early morning attack on the French ships.

  With his ships positioned against the dark sky to the west, the Frenchmen were silhouetted against the lightening sky to the east.

  The first signs of recognition by the French came, when the stern chasers of Lorient opened fire on HMS Vixen. The guns mounted on the lower deck, created havoc on the main deck of Vixen, dismounting two of her guns and killing and wounding eighteen men.

  Having the speed and weather gauge, Martin was able to overtake the slower Frenchman. For his audacity, he received the benefit of further strikes from the heavy guns of the ship-of-the-line.

  With Vixen’s guns double-shotted and run out, Martin got his chance when Lorient put up her helm to allow her broadside to come bear on the frigate. Martin immediately altered course. He steered his ship directly across the stern of the Lorient. With Vixen’s broadside guns firing in turn, the double weight of shot, smashed into the already battered stern of the two-decker. The two stern chaser guns, on the French ship, caught unprepared, suffered accordingly, one still reloading. Both guns were dismounted and the ready-use powder bags caught fire and to add to the chaos. The loaded gun had fired before it was hit and created hell in the tangle of Vixen’s foremast sail and rigging, luckily no fire started. But Martin was struck by flying debris and thrown senseless to the deck. As the Vixen cleared the stern of the Lorient she encountered the French frigate L’Empereur fully committed to the conflict with Sao Paulo. Both ships were surrounded by clouds of smoke from their guns. The French frigate must have had their port guns loaded and run-out. When Vixen appeared she received the benefit of this preparedness by the French captain. The British ship’s already weakened foremast snapped at the foretop, and the upper section toppled with sails and sheets in a mess of timber canvas and rope. Her head fell off to starboard and the port guns now reloaded gave their contribution to the French frigate, in return.

  Lorient was in trouble. The second assault on her stern had damaged her rudder and she was having difficulty keeping a course.

  Captain Trouville was worried that the further damage to the stern had weakened the construction. Planks springing, with increasing water levels in the ship, meant that the pumps were not able to cope with the renewed damage Lorient had suffered.

  Vixen’s crew had cleared most of the clutter from her foredeck and with all guns clear, was reloaded and ready, albeit not as spry as she had been, with her reduced complement of masts.

  Clawing back upwind, she approached the Lorient once more. Her crew were vainly trying to get her rudder working. Approaching from astern the French ship had no guns bearing from that angle. HMS Spartan appeared sailing across the bow of the French ship. The French ship’s two bow guns fired. Lorient was down by the stern, both guns were fired hastily and both shots landed, unhappily for the Spartan. Her mainmast fell, cut through by the 24lb shot and it fell into the mess created by the other strike. Lieutenant Marlow, the helmsman and the sailing master were killed. The splinters from the shattered deck-boards caused a further six casua
lties.

  She dropped out of the conflict at that point. Vixen stopped off the stern, port quarter of the Lorient and fired her aimed guns at the already battered stern. On Lorient the rearmost gun on the upper deck was swivelled round sufficiently to bear on the Vixen. The heavy shot removed the remaining stump of the foremast and killed a further seven men, wounding several others.

  In the orlop, Doctor Mills was bloody to the shoulders as he worked on the wounded brought below. The tub with the discarded limbs thrown into it was half full.

  He stood back and took a gulp of water from the bucket hung for the purpose from the deckhead. The sound of the guns was almost continuous on the deck above. Plus the rumble of the gun-carriages, as they were pulled to and fro for loading and firing. The supressed thuds of the guns on Sao Paulo and L’Empereur could be heard in addition to the sharper sounds from directly above.

  Martin woke with a headache and a start. Young Gibb was anxiously trying to raise him from the deck where he lay, with little success. Martin groaned and hauled himself erect leaning in the shoulder of the diminutive Midshipman. He swayed and peered through the smoke to get his bearings. “Where are we then?”

  “We are still hammering the French 74 sir.” The boy’s voice was hoarse from the powder smoke. Martin sent him below to get a report from the doctor.

  On the Lorient, Trouville was anxious. The rib to the rear of the main and gun deck was broken in two places. The ship’s carpenter was engaged in trying to clear the problem with the rudder, while another party was trying to reinforce the rib, without much success. The worsening leak was allowing far too much water into the hull. The attempts to stem the flood so far had been a dismal failure.

  On Vixen Lieutenant Brooks reported to Martin. “We have cleared the wreckage of the foremast. We still have steering and can make way, though obviously we are not as nimble as we should be. The carpenter believes the Lorient will not stay afloat. He is sure the stern rib on the port side is broken through in more than one place, he has seen the planking springing from the rib and he questions whether they would carry a shaped timber suitable to reinforce the broken rib. In our case we have no problems with the hull. All our damage has been at deck level and above.

  Midshipman Gibbs returned from below and stood, waiting to report.

  “Sir, the Doctor has reported that we have forty-two wounded. Thirty-six will recover. Six may not survive. Eight will not return to duty. Gibbs gave the report clearly, but was pale-faced and looked queasy.

  Martin said, “We will need you on deck with the flag locker. I will discuss matters with the doctor myself.”

  Martin found a rail to lean against. His head ached and his ears rang. Try as he might, he had no recollection of being flung to the deck. As he rested trying to concentrate on what was happening, his servant appeared at his elbow. “You missed out on your coffee, sir. I gave it a warm-up. It’s better hot than cold.”

  Martin looked at him astonished. All around, the guns were firing and men screaming in pain and anger. Smoke rolled back from the guns. And Peters had bothered to make the coffee hot in the heat of battle. “I brought a chair up, thought you might enjoy it more sitting down like. It’s been a long morning, sir.” He dragged the chair from behind him and guided Martin to it.

  “Now, sir, That’s better, I’m sure.” Peters took his place behind the chair.

  The relieved Gibbs made his way to the flag locker where he joined Acting Lieutenant Harmon. “Better up here in the open air, eh, Mr. Gibbs?”

  “Indeed, sir. Much better!”

  Martin drank his coffee gratefully. He had not realised how thirsty he had become. From his seat at the rail he could see the wounded Lorient, her shattered stern sagging and the ship heeling at an odd angle. Her guns had fallen silent on her port side, Not really able to train on much apart from the debris cluttered sea.

  The sound of the guns of Sao Paulo and L’Emporeur had ceased. The guns of Vixen loaded and run out, were also silent. The ship withdrew to a position out of range of the stricken French 74. The sounds now were of the hammering and clink of metal on metal.

  Off to port, the Spartan’s crew were raising their stricken mast, suitably trimmed, into place, under the orders of Lieutenant Acton, only recently promoted, but obviously coping with the loss of his captain.

  While Brooks concentrated on jury rigging a foremast, Martin watched as L’Empereur drifted into view, she had struck her colours. He had not, at the time, realised that Vixen’s chance broadside had killed the captain and that direction and control had been lost.

  With a last glance at the Lorient now down by the stern. He went below to speak with the doctor.

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Waiting

  The Three British ships, plus the prize L’Empereur, stood by while the Lorient struggled to survive.

  Martin had considered pounding the ship until it sank, but humanity won over pragmatism. He signalled the stricken ship offering to take off the crew, as prisoners, of course. Martin’s problem was that, unless he sank the Lorient, he would be seriously in trouble when he returned home.

  In his own mind he was certain that the ship could not be saved. If he approached the guns were a serious menace.

  He waited and watched as the main deck guns were abandoned, swung over the side into the sea. The lower deck guns were still there though the lower gun-ports were getting perilously close to the water level.

  As Martin suspected the lightening of the ship did not make enough of a difference and the stern sank lower until the lower gun-deck gun ports had to be closed.

  At Martin’s signal, Sao Paulo approached the Lorient from the starboard side, standing off as Vixen approached from port-side. Both frigates stood off waiting, until the French tricolour was finally hauled down. Then both British ships came alongside the stricken Frenchman. Martin accepted Captain Trouville’s sword and promptly returned it to him. The surviving crew members from the 74 boarded the two waiting British frigates.

  With the survivors on board, the British ships drew back and waited as the doomed ship slipped finally beneath the waves.

  Only then did the four ships set sail for Falmouth. With jury-rigged masts and the other damage all four ships had suffered, progress to Falmouth was slower than anticipated.

  ***

  The merchantmen, Mohawk and HMS Spartan had been waiting for just over one day when the battered ships arrived. After the formal greetings, the reformed squadron proceeded onward up channel to enter Portsmouth, before evening two days later. Their arrival at Falmouth had been reported and Jennifer and Jane accompanied by Alouette were waiting to meet the ships when they arrived. There was a message from Admiral Bowers to make their report to the Admiralty the following day.

  Dominic Gordon was met by a discreet, anonymous gentleman in a carriage. He bid Martin a private farewell, thanking him for everything. He promised he would contact him in London. Then the carriage departed, with a cavalry escort which had appeared from the barracks in time to escort it to London. The prisoners were offloaded and Captain Trouville passed his sword to Martin. “I will not be allowed to keep it, I know. It was the Admiral’s sword, stolen from an aristocrat. Keep it in memory of my unfortunate ship. I will always be grateful for your forbearance, while my ship was dying.”

  Trouville walked off, flanked by two troopers to join the other captured officers.

  ***

  The Admirals sat listening to Martin’s report of the cruise down the coast of America. No one interrupted him. The reports, completed on the cruise back from the meeting with the French, lay on the desk in front of him. They would be studied in detail by the Admirals later. This meeting was to hear his report from his own lips.

  When he finished speaking there was silence for what seemed like ages before Admiral Seymour spoke.

  “Regarding this so-called instruction to harass American seamen, are you are sure it came from the Admiralty?”

  “Captain Horrocks had b
een assured that the man who gave the orders was Admiral Bowers. When I described the Admiral, he realised that it was certainly not Admiral Bowers. His instructions came from a taller man than me. He was in uniform, with an educated voice. In my presence the Captain apologised for detaining the American ship, and sent the captain on his way. But, gentlemen, in my opinion there will be war. I guess this year or next year at the latest. There is no doubt in my mind that all the harassment has created distrust. It has, if anything, entrenched their independence even deeper.”

  Admiral Bowers asked, “How did Dominic Gordon perform?”

  “Extremely well, in my opinion. He studied reports for the entire voyage to Halifax. By the time we reached Canada he was prepared to negotiate. When left to carry on alone he handled matters as well as they could be. To my surprise, he has developed into a remarkable young man.”

  Admiral Seymour rose to his feet. “Thank you, Sir Martin. We will have more to discuss, I am sure. But, meanwhile, we will allow you to spend time with your family for the next few days while the reports are studied thoroughly.”

  Thus dismissed, Martin made his way to the discrete house where he found Alouette waiting to discuss his personal findings on the situation in America.

  “I have information on the so-called Admiral Bowers, who has been pressurising the naval captains. He is a man called Walker, Baron Robert Walker, an associate of Sir Peter Mayberry.”

  Martin looked at her in confusion. “Who are these people? I have never heard of them?”

  “They are members of a society dedicated to keeping the Empire intact. They think that the British Empire is the only serious stabilising influence in the world. If the society confined its activities to the newspapers and public meetings, there would be no point in my concern. They have unfortunately been responsible for violence and probably murder, so I am very much involved. I have also found they are associated with a French society with similar interests, though, of course, involved in the French empire rather than ours. The disquieting thing about that is the empire, which they are defending, was created by Napoleon.”