The Gathering Storm

by Peter Smalley

He raised the speaking trumpet, made the reply, and felt Rennie tap him on the shoulder. He ran down the ladder into the waist. As he did so, the master was again at Rennie's shoulder:

  'Sir, the two ships approaching from the north are getting dangerous near.'

  Rennie glanced at the advancing frigate and corvette. 'Aye, but they will not fire on us so long as we are alongside La Fidélité. That would risk damage to her. They will attack only when I fire on her, and break clear. It is essential that we go at them head on, Mr Loftus, to give them only the narrowest possible target. And remember, we still have the wind. We will have the weather-gage.'

  A tense few moments. The corvette's officer asked more questions through his speaking trumpet, and received no reply. He repeated his questions, seemed puzzled, then alarmed. He ran aft along the gangway, and at that moment Rennie took off his hat. At once Mr Loftus:

  'Make sail! Stand by to go about!' Followed by a flurry of activity, and Richard Abey's cry:

  'Larboard battery – fire, fire, fire!'

  B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM-BANG-BANG

  Blasts of flame and great balloons of gritty smoke from Expedient's side, and she shook and shuddered with the thudding shocks of her guns through her timbers. Rennie's ears rang as he saw the corvette's mainmast shiver, teeter, and go by the board, dragging down shrouds, yards, sails, halyards in a creaking, slumping tangle of destruction. The whole little ship lurched and heeled to starboard as the mast crashed down over the hammock cranes and into the sea. Terrible damage had been done to other parts of her upperworks, and men could be heard screaming.

  And even as the smoke drifted across the shadowy water between the two ships, Expedient began to swing away from the stricken ship, and turn to meet her other opponents.

  From the gundeck:

  'Re-lo-o-o-o-oad!'

  As Expedient came on to her new heading, her sails bellying full on the starboard tack, the French frigate fired her two bow chasers – nine-pounder guns. Twin orange flashes, and roundshot droned past Expedient to larboard, and kicked up shocks of spray aft.

  'Hard at them, Mr Loftus! Let us meet the buggers head on!'

  'The corvette is bearing west, sir! She is breaking away to attack us to larboard!' The master.

  'Thankee, Mr Loftus. I see her. We will go straight at the frigate.'

  The song now of the rising wind in the rigging. Expedient pitching a little in the following sea, and rolling. Spray flew across the bow, and sluiced the fo'c's'le. The timeless, pulsing cry of a seabird away to starboard, like a mockery of humankind.

  Rennie brought up his glass to look at the second corvette, and saw the flashes along her larboard port strake as she opened fire. A series of spray strikes a cable short of Expedient as the corvette's six-pound roundshot fell harmless. At the same moment came the wind-muffled sound of her guns.

  THUMP-thud THUMP-thud THUMP-thud

  And now a disturbing sight greeted Captain Rennie at the starboard waist ladder. Lieutenant Makepeace, his face ghastly pale, one arm in a sling and his breast bandaged white, came slowly up the ladder, pulling himself up by his free arm on the rigged hand-rope. His undress coat was draped about his shoulders, and his breeches were spattered with blood.

  'Good God, Tom ... you should not be on deck.' Rennie, in dismay.

  'As Dr Wing told me, sir. But I know my duty, and it don't lie below.'

  'You cannot aid me, nor the ship, by struggling about the deck in your condition, Tom.'

  Lieutenant Makepeace did not heed his commander, and came up on the quarterdeck. 'When Expedient is attacked we are all attacked, sir. Ain't that so?'

  'Aye, but I cannot allow you to risk further injury to your person when you are so badly hurt. Your place is below.'

  'Sir, I beg you to allow me the opportunity to defend—'

  'Mr Makepeace!' Over him, forced reluctantly to be severe. 'You will kindly go below!'

  'Sir, if you will only allow me to—'

  'No, sir, I will not. You are in my way, you are an impediment to my fighting the ship efficient.'

  'Sir, I—'

  'Christ's blood, will you do as you are told, sir!' Very angry with his first lieutenant for obliging him to be severe, when all he wished for him was kind attention and a speedy recovery.

  'I am very sorry to have offended you by my honest wish to serve you, sir ...' The lieutenant had tears in his eyes as he turned away slowly, gripped the breast-rail and took a step toward the ladder.

  Rennie moved to assist him, and thought better of it. Probably such assistance would only add to his distress.

  'God damn the stupid fellow!' Rennie, in his head. 'He has made me out the overbearing villain, when all I meant to do was save him from himself!'

  'Frigate bearing away west, sir!'

  As the French frigate heeled on the starboard tack, exposing her larboard ports, which instantly came to life in a flickering of flashes and rushing puffs of smoke.

  Grapeshot smacked, fizzed and cut into Expedient's upperworks in a stuttering hail. One of these small lethal spheres struck Lieutenant Makepeace at the top of the waist ladder, spun him round with half of his head chopped away, and flung him across the gangway.

  'Tom!' Rennie, in anguish.

  The body sprawled on the gangway, then tumbled slack into the waist, the smashed skull pouring blood.

  'Christ Jesu ...' Staring down a moment longer, then turning – only half aware of the destruction all around him – and:

  'You bloody wretches!' Bellowing at the still-turning frigate as smoke hung in a long cloud over the sea. 'I will destroy you! I will kill every man of you, and damn your souls to hell!'

  From the gundeck, Richard Abey's cry:

  'Larboard battery, on the lift ... fire, fire, fire!'

  B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM

  Flame, and flaming wad, shuddering timbers, boiling smoke. Rennie, who had quite unconsciously drawn his sword, and now held it pointed at the French frigate, saw with a surge of pure malevolent joy the effect of that double-shotted broadside. The whole of the frigate's larboard side took terrible damage, and the mizzenmast was shot away in a great collapsing crumple of canvas and yards. The quarterlights at her stern were punched in with an explosion of glass, and the small boat in the stern davits was torn loose and smashed, the remnants hanging down and trailing in the sea. And clearly across the water, high and thin, as Richard Abey yelled:

  'Re-lo-o-o-o-o-oad!' came a single terrible shriek, repeated over and over, of a man in transports of agony.

  'Aye, suffer, you blackguard.' Rennie, savagely. 'All of ye will suffer, presently.'

  As the frigate swung away crippled, the corvette now came at Expedient, and Rennie had to admire her commander's sheer, crazy courage. She came directly across Expedient's bow out of the smoke, her starboard side absolutely exposed, to give herself the maximum broadside opportunity. Flashes, and near instantaneous thuds, as her six-pounders were fired point-blank. Her guns were well aimed. Rennie stood rooted to the deck as he saw a roundshot rocket toward him the length of the ship, a black increasing ball that seemed to come direct at his head. He could not duck down, he could not even jerk his head to one side, so swift did it fly at him. He felt a terrible blow, and it was as if the skin of his face was sucked from his jaws and plucked up from round his eyes and ears, and then he felt nothing more.

  Bernard Loftus saw his captain fall to the deck, and feared the worst.

  'Captain!' Running forrard.

  A spar fell in his path, and he was entangled in torn canvas. He wrenched and thrust, and fought his way clear, and ran to Rennie's side.

  'Captain, sir!'

  From the gundeck, as the corvette heeled far across to starboard of Expedient, and began to turn north:

  'Starboard battery – point your guns! On the lift ... fire, fire, fire!'

  And as he knelt by Rennie, Bernard Loftus felt the thudding, quivering shocks of Expedient's great guns. Rennie did not move, he did not blink, b
ut lay on his side staring at nothing, his hat gone and his sparse hair standing up in wisps on his head.

  A ragged cheer. Ahead of them, away to starboard, the dashing corvette had been struck with terrible slamming force right through her stern. The width of her stern gallery had been smashed clear away, and the deck beyond swept by a storm of iron. Her rudder, her wheel, and her mizzen has been splintered. A flying fast, bravely handled, beautiful little ship of war had been rendered into matchwood, in a few devastating seconds.

  And still Rennie did not stir.

  *

  The two boats lay in a narrow channel between rocky islets, riding the swell that rose and fell there, sucking against the black walls of rock. They were anchored, and hidden from view, so that if boats came looking for them they would not be easily discovered. Nor could they be seen from the west, out to sea, unless a vessel came directly opposite to their position.

  'Not that anyone in those ships will be looking for us at present.' James Hayter, half to himself.

  'What say?' Lieutenant Leigh, beside him, lowered his glass.

  'Nay, nothing.' James shook his head. 'We must remain here concealed until the action is over.'

  'I think Expedient has prevailed, Hayter.' Raising his glass again.

  James looked seaward, peering under a shading hand, then asked for the glass. Mr Leigh gave it to him, and James focused on the several ships in turn, and the terrible damage all had sustained. Drifting smoke, angled sails, a sense of brief preternatural calm, and foreboding.

  'I could not say with certainty that she has prevailed, you know.' Moving the glass. 'The corvette to the south has been took out of the battle, certainly.' Sweeping to the north. 'As has that second corvette. But the French frigate is no worse damaged than Expedient herself, and will in all probability attack again.'

  'You think so?'

  James handed the glass back to Lieutenant Leigh, who peered through it, and:

  'No, I think not. Captain Rennie has tacked, and now ... yes, he means to lay alongside the frigate and board her. Yes! He has loosed another broadside into her! Christ, what a frightful pounding ...'

  And the sound of the broadside echoed deep and heavy across the sea.

  THUD THUD THUD THUD-THUD THUD THUD

  Smoke boiled and rushed, enveloping the two ships in an angry cloud.

  'May I see?' James tapped the lieutenant on the shoulder, and was given the glass a second time. He focused, in time to see an answering broadside from the French ship, just as Expedient came alongside. A moment, as the two vessels were again obscured by smoke, and the echo came.

  THUMP-THUD THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMPTHUD

  'That contest ain't decided.' James, grimly. 'Not by any measure.' Giving Mr Leigh the glass and pointing. 'If Expedient's people was preparing to board at that moment, and if as I suspect the French commander had ordered grape loaded in his guns ... God knows what frightful slaughter has just occurred.'

  'We spoke too soon, hey?' Peering.

  'Are you a religious man, Leigh?'

  'At moments such as this – I think perhaps I am.' Lowering the glass.

  'Hm. Then ye'd better offer up a prayer for Expedient and her people.'

  'I think perhaps I will, Hayter.' Quietly.

  'Aye, and for us, sequestered here. It will be a bloody miracle if we survive this day unmolested ourselves.'

  *

  Captain Rennie came to himself, and attempted to sit up. 'Has he come about, on t'other tack? Why are the guns not firing?'

  'Nay, Captain, do not attempt effortful speech, if you please, sir.'

  'Dr Wing ... ?'

  'I am here. And you are not dead, not quite yet. However, if you will oblige me, I should like you to ...' Restraining Rennie, pushing him gently back down on the hanging cot he had rigged in his cramped dispensary. '... just lie back again, will you?'

  'I must go on deck. Why are the great guns silent?'

  'It will not be wise for you to go on deck. The deck is very bloody and muddled, just at present, and you can do nothing—'

  'Muddled?'

  'Well, yes, that is the word I would use. You may wish to find another. Lie back, and allow me to examine your ears, though I expect – since you can hear me – that the eardrums are not impaired.'

  'In course they ain't, good God. I am not impaired at all, Doctor. Why was I brought below?'

  'A roundshot near took off your head, you were knocked off your feet by the shock of it passing so narrowly close, and lost consciousness. It is a common thing, in action.'

  'Ah, is it? Common, hm?'

  'Aye, sir, it is. I have made a little study of the phenomenon. Perhaps I shall write a paper. The larger the size and weight of the ball, the greater the shock. You were lucky. A six-pound roundshot, I think, from the smaller ship? Had it been an eighteen-pound shot, or a carronade ball, the effect might well have been to shock the life out of you. As it is, you were merely concussed.'

  Rennie felt his head and upper body. 'But I suffered no injury at all. I was not hit. Why in Christ's name are the great guns not firing? Was that second corvette bested?'

  'So I understand. The action has ceased.'

  'What happened to the frigate?'

  'The French frigate caused very great damage to us, and we to them. I have brought you here because there was no room to accommodate you anywhere else below. There has been a very great deal of injury, and death.'

  And now Rennie saw the condition of Dr Wing's clothing. His shirtsleeves and breeches were caked and slimy with blood.

  'How – how many injured?'

  'Near half an hundred. And thirteen killed.'

  'Hell's flames ...'

  'Aye, that is a closer word than muddle, you are right. The deck is like a corner of hell.' Quietly.

  'We must return for the boat, if the action is done. Has the French frigate struck? A damn silly question, hey? She must have done, else the action would still proceed. And now, Doctor, I really must go on deck.' Sitting up again.

  'She has not.'

  'Eh?'

  'The action has ceased – for the moment. The French frigate stood away to the west, bad crippled as I understand her condition, but not killed. And we are left bad crippled ourselves.'

  'Then we must return for the boat while the French ship is out of the way.' Decisively. 'This is our only chance of success.'

  'Captain, I warn you. Strenuous activity of any kind will be very inimical to your condition.'

  'Damnation to that. A headache never killed a sea officer yet. Oooghh!' Clutching his head as his feet reached the deck and he stood.

  'Please to lie down again, sir.'

  'I will not lie down, damn you! I am the commanding officer of a ship of war, and I mean to prevail. Our boat must be rescued, and the action we have begun today be fought out to the end. Stand aside.'

  And he thrust the diminutive doctor away, and went up the ladder.

  *

  'We will pull toward Expedient,' decided James Hayter. 'Stand by to weigh, the pinnace to be lead boat.' Louder, standing up in the stern sheets.

  'D'y'really think it worth the risk, Hayter? With the royal party aboard?' Lieutenant Leigh, standing beside him and speaking very low and earnest in James's ear. 'It is a league and more of hard rowing, against a stiff breeze and a lifting sea.'

  'It is our only chance, while the French frigate is disengaged.' Speaking quietly and urgently in turn. 'In any wise we shall be needed aboard, Leigh, with so many casualties likely in the ship. Needed to fight her guns, all of us.'

  'Yes, you are right.' A nod. 'Very well.' Then: 'Will you go into the second boat?'

  'Aye. And then you wait for my command.'

  'Very good.' A thought. 'But look here, Hayter, I think perhaps I had better give the commands from now on, you know. After all, you ain't even commissioned at present – in least, not in the navy.'

  A brief chuckle. 'D'y'know, I had not allowed that simple fact to enter my mind. I have no a
uthority over you at all, my dear fellow. You must forgive my presumption in behaving as if I was the senior officer present, when I am on the beach, in truth.'

  'Thank God you are not still on the beach, in literal truth. Hey?'

  'Yes indeed, thank God.' Sobering. 'Very well, I will go into the second boat – and wait for your command.'

  Presently, when James had returned to the second boat, and occupied the stern sheets, Lieutenant Leigh:

  'Get your oars to pass!'

  The oars lifted up from the thwarts.

  'Ship your oars!'

  The oars in the thole pins, and extended.

  'Give way together, lads! Lay out with a will, but let us row dry!'

  And the two boats emerged from their narrow hiding place, the pinnace ahead, into the open sea. Three miles distant to the west Expedient began to swing limping toward them.

  When they were nearly within pistol shot of her, half a glass after, the French frigate came limping in from the west in pursuit.

  'Christ's blood ...' James, in a whisper to himself. '... Expedient must go about to fight her guns. We are lost, unless ...'

  And aloud, standing up and bellowing in his most carrying quarterdeck:

  'In the pinnace, there! We must get under Expedient's lee when she goes about, else we shall be smashed to splinters!'

  As if in answer there echoed across the water from Expedient:

  'Stand by to go about! Starboard battery ... ready!'

  As Expedient went about on the starboard tack, the two boats were not close enough to her to find any protection, and were left exposed to leeward on the open sea.

  * * *

  Aboard Expedient, Captain Rennie had made a very bold decision. He was desperately short of guncrew, and his starboard broadside would not now be his standard battery of eighteen-pounder long guns, but his quarterdeck and fo'c's'le thirty-two-pounder starboard carronades, a mere six guns. Six guns – but with a broadside weight of metal of 192 pounds.

  'As he goes about in turn, we will smash his foremast.' Rennie, to Richard Abey beside him on the quarterdeck.

  'Very good, sir.'

  Rennie waited as the French frigate began to make the manoeuvre, in order to bring her own guns to bear. As she tacked to starboard Rennie nodded to Mr Abey, who: