He didn’t see what triggered it, but Marty suddenly launched an attack that had Chin parrying furiously. Their blades were a blur, and sparks flew as the edges clashed. It ended as quickly as it started. Both men took a step back and started circling again.
He looked at the rest of the crew and saw bets being offered and accepted. One man dressed in a smoker’s jacket was openly running a book! He glanced at Lieutenant Ackerman, who was smiling benevolently.
“You allow betting?” he asked in amusement.
“Cash bets only. No sips, tots, or tobacco,” Ackerman responded.
That was a surprise, sailors usually didn’t have two farthings to rub together. This was getting curiouser and curiouser.
His attention was pulled back to the contest by another clash of blades. Chin was on the offensive this time, and Marty was defending for all he was worth.
“A guinea on the Chinaman?” he asked Ackerman.
“I’ll take that, sir,” Ackerman grinned back at him.
Five minutes later, Cochrane dug a guinea out of his pocket and handed it over. Marty pulled off a magnificent riposte followed by a feint that led to a killing strike, which stopped short of even grazing Chin’s abdomen.
Both men sluiced off in a bucket of water to get rid of the sweat, and Marty put his shirt back on. He was still doing it up when he climbed the steps to the quarterdeck.
“I will need to practice if I’m ever to live up to that standard,” Cochrane smiled, genuinely impressed.
“I’ve been training every day since I joined the Navy when I was twelve years old,” Marty informed him as they stood and watched the men resume their training.
“You do this every day?”
“Unless conditions prevent it, we do a lot of hand to hand fighting both at sea and on land and this gives us a big advantage over the average Frenchman.”
“No doubt! We say your average Englishman is worth three French, but in your case, I would say at least six!”
Marty laughed and thanked him for the compliment. He looked at his watch and tapped Ackermann on the shoulder.
“That’s enough playing with weapons. Bring down the topmasts,” he ordered.
Orders were bellowed and weapons stacked in their tubs. The topmen raced up the masts, and the landsmen and waisters got into position. The fore topmast came down first followed quickly by the other two. The men looked practiced and efficient. No energy was wasted, and the organisation was impeccable.
“You have an efficient crew!” Cochrane complimented him.
“Thank you, Captain. We normally follow sail drills with live firing drills but as we are in the middle of the fleet, we will have to forgo that today,” Marty grinned, proud of his men and ship.
“You mustn’t wake up the admiral now!” laughed Cochrane, “and please call me Thomas.”
“Martin.”
They shook hands.
The drills finished, and Adam came and announced that dinner would be served in thirty minutes preceded by drinks served in the Captain’s cabin.
“Blast, I meant to consult that physician chap of yours,” Thomas exclaimed.
“He will join us for dinner. I am sure you can get a moment to talk to him in private,” Marty reassured him.
Marty disappeared into his sleeping cabin to dress for dinner while Wolfgang amused Thomas with tales of their adventures. He was out in record time thanks to Adam having gotten everything ready in advance.
“… and Admiral Smith was apparently urging poor Captain Tremayne to make more speed even though they had every stitch of sail set and wetted,” Wolfgang was telling Thomas, who was absently scratching Blaez’s head as the dog sat beside him.
“Shelby, the captain would like a moment of your time. You can use my sleeping quarters if you need privacy,” Marty said quietly to the doctor.
Shelby looked at Thomas and said,
“Bad back?”
“Ye gads, you can tell by just looking?!” Thomas exclaimed.
“Your posture, sir. If you would be so kind as to remove your coat.” Thomas did as he was asked, intrigued as no other doctor had taken this approach.
Shelby stepped behind him and ran his thumbs up his spine, feeling each vertebra in turn, then asked him to turn his shoulder to the left, then right while he laid his hand on the small of his back.
“Captain, if you would be so kind as to call for Chin Lee, we can have this fixed in a minute.”
Marty was intrigued and did as the doctor asked.
A knock on the door and Chin Lee walked in. He saw what Shelby was doing and stepped over beside him.
“A misalignment of the lumbar, causing his poor posture and probably pain down the right leg.”
Thomas looked at Marty with a look of amazement when Chin placed his hand on his back and closed his eyes. Thomas’s eyes widened as he felt heat bloom in his back. The room was silent as they all looked on. Chin asked Thomas to cross his arms in front of his chest then stood back to back with him and said,
“Please stay relaxed - this will feel a little strange,” he reached behind him, held Thomas’s elbows then lent forward so Thomas’s feet came off the ground and his upper body was supported on his back.
“Please relax.” Chin did a kind of bounce and there was a string of very audible pops. He repeated the bounce and there was another pop, then put him back on his feet.
Thomas had a look of pure amazement written clear on his face as Chin checked his back once more followed by Shelby.
“All done, sir. That should feel a lot better.”
“Damn me if it doesn’t!” Thomas said excitedly. “How did you do that?”
Chin looked inscrutable and said in an exaggerated Chinese accent, “Ancient Chinese medicine, big secret.”
They all laughed, and despite being invited to stay, Chin let himself out.
Dinner was a triumph for Rolland; somehow, he was able to get a supply of shellfish and presented a dish he called ‘un Plateau de Fruits de mer’, which had muscles, oysters, clams, whelks, crab, and lobster with Mignonette sauce and preserved lemon. That was followed by grilled sole in butter with potatoes and a meat course of roasted lamb with a red currant sauce, braised cabbage, parsnips, and roast potatoes. Dessert was baked apples stuffed with dried candied fruit, cinnamon, sugar, and served with a creamy crème anglaise.
Thomas had to undo the top button of his trousers to finish the meal and as the cheese and nuts were brought to the table with the port, he sighed in satisfaction.
“I have to admit, Hood told me you set a wonderful table, but that exceeded all expectations,” he told Rolland, who was summoned at his request. “I am afraid you have quite spoiled me. My cook could never live up to this.” He left full, more than a little tipsy, and happy.
The next morning, Hornfleur sailed into the Roads with four chasse-marées in close company, which were full of barrels of tar and linseed oil. Angus Frasier didn’t want his decks spoiled by leaking tar, so he stole the boats as well.
Just after noon, the Eagle came in with another four. The Alouette came with two and a towed barge. All were gunnel full of tar and oil. Cochrane requisitioned eight reserve store ships from the fleet and set about converting them as well. They stuffed them full of combustibles and kegs of powder and hung grapnels from the ends of the booms to tangle in their target’s rigging. The boys went out again to find more tar and oil.
On the tenth of April, twelve fire ships arrived from England. They now had twenty-four fire and explosives ships.
Marty was summoned to attend a planning meeting of captains who would be involved in the assault.
There were seven frigates, including: the Formidiable and Imperieuse, Captains John Tremayne Rodd - HMS Indefatigable, Fredrick Lewis Maitand - HMS Emerald, Lucius Hardyman - HMS Unicorn, and George Seymour - HMS Pallas. James Wooldridge was captain of HMS Mediator, a temporary position as she was a converted frigate that would be stuffed with explosives and festooned with Congreve Rocke
ts as an explosion ship. Add to them five sloops, six brigs, two bombs, and three rocket ships and it was a crowded meeting.
There was one man there that wasn’t in uniform, and he was later introduced as William Congreve, the inventor of the rockets, who had volunteered to help fix them to the fire and explosives ships. He travelled down on the bomb ship HMS Aetna.
Cochrane introduced Marty as Captain Sir Martin Stockley, HMS Formidiable, they would be joining the attack.
“Gentlemen,” called Cochrane in a loud voice to get everyone’s attention. “We are now ready to begin an attack on the French fleet; the fire and explosive ships are prepared. I would like to thank Captain Stockley and his Flotilla in sourcing the necessary materials,” Marty nodded in acknowledgement.
“Admiral Gambier has given his permission and we will start the attack on the eleventh,” he continued.
Marty knew, because Thomas confided in him, that Gambier had first refused permission on the basis that he didn’t want to put his men manning the fire ships in harm’s way. After a furious argument, he finally gave in to Cochrane and approved the plan.
To placate Gambier, Thomas asked Marty if some of his men would man some of the converted store ships and he asked for volunteers from the Flotilla. There was not a man who failed to step forward.
He saw an opportunity to give the younger mids some command experience. So, Eric Longstaff, Jon Williams, Archi Davidson, and Gerald Sykes all got five-man crews to take the store ships in. They were all instructed on exactly what to do and told not to put themselves or their men in unnecessary danger.
“Imperieuse, Formidiable, Unicorn, and Pallas will move up to a point North of the boom by the Boyant shoal so that they can receive the crews of the fireships after they have abandoned their charges.
The sloops, Radpole and Lara, have been equipped as light ships to guide the fireships into the channel. They will be accompanied by HMS Whiting and the cutters Nimrud and King George, which have been set up by Mr. Congreve as rocket batteries.
The Bomb ship, Aetna, and two brigs will anchor near to the battery on the Ile-d’Aix, while Emerald and five escorts will set up a diversionary attack to the east of the island.
I will command the Mediator and will lead the fireships, her greater size and weight will enable her to break the boom. The fireships will be chained together in seven ship squadrons to maximise their effect.” He looked around the room. “Gentlemen you have all received your written orders, now a toast to our success,” stewards were passing out glasses of port and once everyone had a glass in his hand he proposed the toast, “To the success of our endeavours, and confusion to the French!”
“CONFUSION TO THE FRENCH!” they replied with enthusiasm and drained their glasses to heel taps.
That evening as night approached, Marty stood on his quarter deck and looked at the pennant, which snapped and streamed in a stiff breeze.
“Damn! There is too much wind! It’s from the right direction but they will never be able to chain the fireships together in squadrons in this breeze,” Marty commented to Ackermann.
“I think Captain Cochrane has come to the same conclusion,” he pointed to the Imperieuse where a signal was flying up the yards.
Stanley Hart, who was miffed at being left out of commanding a fire ship, read the signal and reported to Marty.
“Signal commands the fireships to act independently, sir.”
Marty nodded; it was what he would have done.
At eight thirty, the fire ships cut their cables and with the wind and tide behind them, started towards the boom.
Five minutes later, a number of the fireships ignited, and in their light Marty could see the crews abandoning them.
“You bloody fools!” Marty shouted at the ships. “The damned cowards have abandoned their ships far too early,” he continued to Ackermann and silently wondered if Gambier had anything to do with it.
He counted the fires and of the twenty-four ships, fourteen fire ships had gone too soon. Out of control, most of them ran up on the shoals and grounded while one veered around and started heading straight for the Imperieuse!
“Get the ships boats manned!” he commanded, seeing the danger. The boats were pulled alongside in readiness to assist any fireship crews that might need help, and their crews fairly leapt over the side. Marty took charge of the barge, Ackermann, the cutter, Andrew Stamp, the gig, and Stanley Hart, the whaler.
The four boats raced across the sea towards the oncoming fireship the flames illuminating the sea for many yards around.
“Try and pull her around so she goes between the Imperieuse and Formidiable!” Marty shouted.
Bowmen stood with grapnels on stout lines ready to try and hook the bow of the burning ship and when they were within thirty feet and feeling the heat of the flames, strong arms hurled the hooks over the rail.
“Back starboard!” Marty called as his hook found a purchase, and the barge pirouetted around to reverse direction. “Give way both!”
The strain was taken. The barge and whale boat pulled side by side, straining to pull the fire ship’s head around. Marty looked back and could see that the other two boats were nowhere to be seen, but then he caught a glimpse of oars on the other side of the bow and realized they were trying to push it around!
The First Lieutenant of the Imperieuse saw the danger and was busy trying to veer his anchor cable. He looked out at the approaching ship and saw the Formidiables valiant efforts end as the ropes burnt through as the bow of the ship went up in flames. The two boats that were pushing on the bow already had to back away because of the heat.
But between their efforts and the shift in position the veer gave him, the fire ship passed his stern. He could feel the heat and noted the name on the stern as she passed. Someone would pay dearly for this.
The Formidiables had just returned to their ship when there were a number of explosions. The first explosion ships went up on the boom. Marty didn’t know it, but they did little damage. However, Mediator was coming in behind them and the big ship broke through the boom followed by the surviving fire ships.
Marty looked toward the French fleet and could see the burning British ships bearing down on them, rockets firing as the flames ignited them. Mediator went up, the explosion was enormous, and debris soared into the air.
The scene was like something from hell. Fireships drifted at random through the French fleet, rockets flying from the rocket ships and the fireships. The Forts and the French ships were firing their guns at anything that remotely looked like a threat. A number cut their anchors and were adrift. It was chaos.
The next morning, dawn revealed that only two of the French ships escaped the chaos relatively unscathed. The rest were aground on the mud banks.
What followed would go down in history as a disgrace. Cochrane repeatedly signalled Gambier for assistance with information that the French were all grounded. But the Admiral did nothing but call meetings and send long spelt out messages that never committed or ordered a follow up attack. Eventually, the fleet set sail only to immediately anchor again.
Cochrane cut his anchor cable and let the Imperieuse drift down on the French stern first, signalling all the while. Marty ordered the Formidiable to buoy and cut their anchor cable as well, following Cochrane.
The guns were loaded, and Marty was pleased to see the Eagle and Alouette sailing down towards him. The Admiral flew a recall signal, but they ignored him, and Cochrane signalled, “the enemy is superior to the chasing ships.”
Gambier hesitated. It was becoming obvious that he did not want to engage the enemy. At a quarter to two in the afternoon, Cochrane signalled, “The ship is in distress and requires immediate assistance.”
The Imperieuse and Marty’s Flotilla commenced fire, bombarding the ships that were still aground. Gambier couldn’t delay any more, he could not let a pair of Frigates and a couple of smaller ships take on the French fleet while he stood by and did nothing.
The frigates
Indefatigable, Emerald, Unicorn, and Pallas along with the liners Valliant and Revenge were sent to support Cochrane. They formed a line of battle and started to bombard the stranded Ville de Varsouvie.
The Alouette used her carronades to great effect, manoeuvring into position to rake the Aquilon. The Eagle joined her, and they pounded the defenceless ship unmercifully.
After two hours, both ships struck, and a little after that, another French ship, that was set afire by its crew before they abandoned ship, exploded as the flames reached her magazine. The Calcutta followed suit when a boarding crew accidently set her on fire. The store ship was stacked full of powder and blew up spectacularly.
In the end, they destroyed only five of the French ships and the rest were able to retreat up the Charente when the tide lifted them off the mud banks. Gambier ordered Cochrane to return to England and summarily dismissed Marty and his Flotilla to return to Gibraltar. The battle was over.
Chapter 11: What a whitewash!
Marty received a letter from Cochrane asking him to support him at the court-martial of Gambier. He used his position as a member of parliament to publicly accuse the admiral of dereliction of duty and cowardice.
Caroline saw it as a great opportunity for the whole family to return home for a couple of months and Marty for the Formidiable to get a partial refit. They left her at Portsmouth in Wolfgang Ackermann’s capable hands, and set off for Dorset.
Marty wanted to visit his family and catch up on how the Dorset estate was doing. They received regular reports from the estate managers both in Dorset and in Cheshire but for a detailed review, they had to be there. They sent messages ahead so they would be expected.
The coach trip through the New Forest was uneventful. Two coaches full of conspicuously armed people did not make an attractive target for highwaymen and covered the thirty miles to Ringwood comfortably before dark.
The Trojan Horse Page 11