“I’m sure she was right. Perhaps we could send it to her. Now, aboard La Pomone. What did you do? I have to ask you, you’re all I have, you know why.”
Sanders face fell, but then brightened a small measure.
“Yes Sir. Well, we took her upper deck and gundeck, but could get no further than the mainmast along her lower deck. We cleared her gundeck by throwing our charges at them, but could not fight our way to a magazine. It needed more than half of us to hold the French on the quayside. So, with time running out, we dropped our last charges down her hold and took our leave, Sir.
Sanders face grew serious again.
“I’d like it put on record, Sir, that Captain Ramsey was the last off her. He commanded the rearguard, and finally saw even those away, before himself.
Argent looked at Sanders, whose eyes were level, looking straight back at him. Argent nodded.
“So noted. What about her damage? How long would you say she will be out of commission?”
“Well, her gundeck was a wreck. You raking her did that. Her mizzen was wounded, as was her main, and I hear that an explosion moved her mizzen some more. And we started some fires that burned for some time. And then there’s the broadside you gave her on leaving. I’d say one month minimum, and for that, they’ll have to work on her night and day.”
Argent began writing immediately.
“Thank you, Jonathan.”
They both heard six bells of the Morning Watch.
“Up hammocks. And this is your Watch, is it not?”
“Yes Sir. But none of the crew slept too much last night.”
At that moment Midshipman Bright knocked and entered. His eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep in a face still black with gunpowder.
“Sir. Excuse me, Sir, but we are just clearing Drake’s Island.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bright. I’m on my way.”
Argent rose on his good leg and lifted his crutch, to place it under his left shoulder, then stump out of his cabin. He passed across the rear of the gundeck, now clean, but still much in disarray. The companionway to the quarterdeck was a problem for him, but soon he stood his place, on the weatherside. Some fishermen and coastal craft were nearby and their crews stopped working, to watch her enter, alerted by the clanking of the pumps. Some silently watched, but others cheered, as Ariadne slid in, looking as though she’d received the malignant attentions of a French two decker. They remembered what she’d looked like when she brought in La Mouette; they saw her as a fighting ship, this now confirmed by very different evidence.
Off to starboard was Herodotus, so Argent took himself to the starboard bulwark to take a look, they were near enough not to require a telescope. Many Ariadnies were on the starboard gangway, such as was left of it. Fentiman was at Argent’s side.
“How much damage can you see, Henry? We’re looking at the side that was in action.”
“Three, perhaps four, holes, Sir, that I can see, but we don’t know what’s below the waterline.”
“No. But I agree about four at the most.”
At that moment they saw Cheveley come to the corner of his quarterdeck to watch Ariadne crawl up to anchor. Argent turned to the ever attendant Reece.
“Reece, my glass, please.”
The glass was obtained and he focused it quickly on Cheveley. The face that he saw was impassive, but then he saw it quickly change to fury. Argent was nonplussed; he could see no reason for the change. However, what he did not know was that, from his own ship, two bare backsides were being displayed from two gunports and another through the largest shothole.
A Signalman came to stand beside him.
“Signal from The Tower, Sir. Our number and Herodotus’. Captains to Flag.”
oOo
They had landed their Captain safely, helped him up the steps and into a waiting carriage, accompanied by Lieutenant Sanders, so now the barge crew watched the carriage disappear past The Tower. They had noticed a similar barge moored empty at the same steps and drew their own conclusions. Now they were looking around for the crew and they found them along the quayside, sat on some bollards and piles of cable. Whiting looked down at Able Jones, checking the moorings of their barge, it with two large patches, both of which leaked.
“Abe. Up here.”
Jones gave the knot a final tug and ascended the stone steps, to assemble with King, Fenwick, and Beddows. Whiting pointed to the other bargecrew and they walked over. The sailors looked up and saw the Ariadnies approaching, their faces soon showing that they could expect trouble. Whiting noticed first that they were all Bosun’s Mates and then he saw the Bosun himself, his hat having the plate on which was the face of an old Greek Sage above the word “Herodotus”. Whiting walked to the Warrant Officer, his superior, but saw no reason to change his intentions.
“Mornin’ lads. That’s a fine ship you serves on. A fine sight, she makes, ‘specially when you’n lookin’ at her stern as she sails off, out of harbour.”
Between sailors, normally, this was fighting talk, but they just looked up, grim and subdued. None made any move. Whiting continued.
“So what happened? Was it time to polish your bell or summat, or was it gettin’ a mite too hot, with what the Frogs was sendin’ your way?”
The Bosun looked directly back at Whiting. He was meeting the challenge.
“’An what makes you think that it’s we as gives the orders?”
“She’s your ship.”
The Bosun stood up and looked directly at Whiting.
“You know how many was flogged on the way back? Twenty-one. Where’s that number come from? Every Gun Captain of the larboard battery. An’ you know how many he flogged after you bested us against them targets? Every tenth man from the whole bloody crew! Every tenth man in the ship got a dozen. The lads smashed those targets sweet as you like, but ‘twere Cheveley’s ship handlin’ as lost us the trial, ‘im bein’ out thought by your Captain, yet ‘twere us as took the brunt across our backs. You wants us to stand up for our ship? This is what I thinks of my ship.”
He took off his Bosun’s Hat and threw it on the floor.
“Don’t ask me, nor my mates here, to stand up for Cheveley’s Circus. You’m knockin’ on the wrong door. Her and ‘im can sail into Hell for all we care.”
He shifted his stance, and continued, returning to the subject of St. Malo.
“ A bare five shot we took? Five, and one through some shrouds and that alone were enough for ‘im to cut the anchor and take off. We ‘ad time for three broadsides, no more, an’ you can believe me or not, I don’t care, but the lads was servin’ their guns as best I’ve ever seen. They wanted to fight that frog fort, give ‘em a batterin’; that’s a fact I know.”
The Bosun paused to let that sink in, then continued. He wouldn’t defend the ship, but he’d defend the crew.
“An’ I’ll tell you summat else, an’ all. We’ve got gunners as’ve served on fightin’ ships. The best! We’d sorted out spotters to watch the shot hit, us an’ the Gunner’s Mates. Cheveley’s Officers wouldn’t know their arse from their elbow. We opened as a rolling broadside an’ we was getting’ the range. The last thing I heard before he ordered cut the cable, was a spotter shoutin’ for number 12 to lower a half.”
Whiting looked at the Bosun. In his face he saw what he had rarely seen in any seaman. Sorrow and shame for his crew and his ship, such that was bringing him near to tears. Whiting bent down, picked up the hat and dusted it off. His expression became resigned, his sadness matching theirs. There could be no argument here, these were true man o’ war’s men, berthed on a bad ship and no fault of theirs.
“We was figurin’ to buy a bottle from The Benbow down there. Perhaps you’d like to share a drop or two.”
He handed back the hat, and the Bosun took it.
oOo
Simultaneously, Argent and Sanders were ascending the steps to Broke’s residence, now all very familiar, a familiarity which included Captain Baker, who immediately came for
ward to help Argent over the steps, but Argent waved him back.
“I’m fine, Captain Baker, I can manage, but I thank you.”
Baker remained concerned, which grew when he saw Sanders bandaged hand.
“Not too serious, I hope?”
“No, just a tiny bit gone, and I drink my tea with my other hand, so it’s that little finger that I need to stick out!”
Both Argent and Baker laughed and were still laughing when they reached the door of Broke’s office. Baker opened the door, still smiling, and Argent and Sanders entered, Baker following. The four already present were sat on chairs before the fireplace, with one chair vacant. Grant stood up and immediately noticed the crutch, the misshapen leg and then Sanders own obvious wound. He began speaking as Argent stumped forward whilst Baker went to sit at the desk and assemble a stack of plain paper.
“Captain, please take this chair. I hope your wound is none too painful, but we did not know that you were bringing Lieutenant, er, Sanders, is it?”
Sanders and Argent both nodded, but Argent spoke.
“I thought it would be useful to include him, Sir. Lieutenant Sanders actually got onto La Pomone and he is the only Officer off her to survive. Captain Ramsey was killed.”
Whilst saying this, Argent looked directly at Broke, who looked both annoyed and confused. Cheveley looked at the fireplace, but Marine Colonel Shortman rose and came forward to shake both their hands and then fetch another chair. It was he that took Argent’s log and put it on the desk, alongside that of the Herodotus. Soon all were sat and waiting for Grant to start. He sat up, stern faced, and spoke.
“I’ve called you here because I want a simple report of what happened, and what you think you achieved. I’d like to start with you, Lieutenant.”
Sanders sat up nervously, but when he began his voice was firm and his speech clear.
“We got aboard her, Sir, over her stern, after Ariadne had raked her. Captain Ramsey led, but she was full of sailors and workmen, and a squad French Marines, but there were many dead, after Ariadne’s broadside. Captain Ramsey put half of us along her starboard gangway to hold off any reinforcements from the quay, but French soldiers were coming from everywhere. The Marines held them off, especially when Ariadne fired grape along the quay in support. Captain Ramsey led the rest down to her gundeck, and we cleared that, too, but we had to use some charges. They tried to get down to a magazine, but were held on her lower deck. I knew that we had five minutes and it was running out. Captain Ramsey sent back a runner to inform me of the position and what did I advise? I said throw the remaining charges down into the hold. This they did and we got back onto the lugger and Ariadne towed us out, until we were badly holed. It was then that Captain Ramsey was killed, just before we transferred to Ariadne. Sir.”
“Five minutes?”
“That came from Captain Argent, Sir. He shouted it across.”
“Across when?”
“When we got into the harbour and saw where she was, Sir, and we both made a course for her stern.”
Grant nodded, then continued.
“And her damage?”
“Her masts are damaged, Sir, and dislodged, and she took a dreadful beating from Ariadne’s guns. Also some fires burned in her. I think she’s out for a month, at least.”
He paused, but was not interrupted.
“I would like, at this point, to commend Captain Ramsey and the Marines, Sir, if I may.”
Grant nodded, as did Shortman.
“You may. Thank you.”
Grant turned to Argent.
“Your report, please, Captain Argent?”
Argent knew what he could set in motion, regarding Cheveley and the Herodotus. But he decided, for now, to confine himself to the bare facts concerning only his own vessel and let the rest emerge, as it may.
“We entered the harbour, Sir, and she wasn’t in the Roads, she was moored to a quayside on the left. I remembered your orders, Sir, to take, or burn, or damage. To cut her out was impossible, so I decided that all that we could do, was to do damage her in whatever way we could. I’m confident that Lieutenant Sanders here, independently reached the same conclusion regarding our aim, for he began steering straight for her, just as we were. We raked her, then we were engaged by two bastions. I received a signal to withdraw, but we held our position for a short while longer until the Marines came off; we gave her a last broadside, then withdrew. We towed the lugger clear and made our escape, engaging the main bastion as we passed. Sir. It’s all in my Log, Sir, there on your desk.”
“Your estimate of her damage?”
“We got two broadsides into her, Sir, and every shot told. An explosion dislodged her mizzen. I’ve no reason to disagree with Lieutenant Sanders, here.”
“Your own casualties?”
“23 dead, Sir, and 12 amputees. 18 wounded, 10 badly, 6 like to recover. I lost two Officers, Marine Captain Sanders and Lieutenant Bentley, and a Midshipman, Rufus Ffynes is an amputee. 56 in total. Sir.”
Broke shot forward, his face showing genuine concern.
“56! And Bentley, dead?”
“Yes, Sir. On the way out, when we came under the guns of the main bastion, opposite La Pomone.”
Broke sat back, to look away, he was genuinely worried. Grant continued.
“What damage to your ship?”
“Extensive damage to deck and planking, Sir. We have about six shot twixt wind and water, 32lbs, I believe, but my Carpenter thinks there are more. We lost our Mizzen topmast and damage to both standing and running rigging is extensive. Three guns overturned and a carronade.”
Grant nodded, plainly saddened.
“Not far short of what you gave La Pomone.”
“No Sir, but at least we weren’t raked.”
Grant looked at Shortman.
“Have you anything to add, Colonel?”
“Not a great deal, Sir, other than to say that we took the island and came off when Ariadne came out. I’m grateful that Ariadne covered our withdrawal with their guns. It saved us casualties, I’m certain.”
Argent now spoke. Time to raise the issue.
“And I’d like it placed on record that I am grateful for Colonel Shortman for holding the island until Ariadne had sailed past. If the French had regained the fort, they could have done us further damage, such that could have finished us off.”
Shortman spoke.
“No fear of that, Argent, we’d spiked the guns!”
Argent laughed.
“Thank you, Colonel. I guessed that you might have.”
Grant continued his questioning.
“You haven’t mentioned Herodotus? Where were you in relation to her, on the way out?”
“Some way behind, Sir. We came out alone, Herodotus had already left.”
Cheveley looked angrily at Argent, but Grant sat forward and up, plainly this was taking a serious turn.
“You were not in consort with Herodotus?”
“No, Sir. That’s correct, Sir, but Captain Cheveley can answer for his own ship.”
Showing increasing shock and concern, Grant looked at Cheveley. This was new and, potentially, very grave.
“Captain Cheveley?”
Cheveley looked at Broke, shifted himself on his chair, and then he looked at Grant. Cheveley was plainly affronted. He both chose and spoke his words with great care. Grant stared straight back, eyes hard and stern.
“Captain Argent is quite correct. When we entered, I also saw La Pomone securely moored. I turned in the harbour and tried to anchor. However, in the Roads the tide was stronger that anticipated and we slipped too far down. I could not engage the main bastion directly, but we came under their fire. With La Pomone moored I considered the mission impossible to carry out to any significant effect, which seems to be borne out by what Lieutenant Sanders has said, regarding the actual amount of damage inflicted. I ordered withdrawal, sent by signal. I took my own ship out to save her further damage. I saw no point in sustaining damage and c
asualties when we could inflict so little on the enemy. I expected Ariadne to follow.”
Grant looked at Cheveley, his face blank.
“And your damage and casualties?”
“Five shot into the hull, one dead, five wounded.”
Grant’s expression remained unchanged. He had a hundred questions, but he was uncertain if this was the time, almost certainly this would go further. He looked at Broke.
“Admiral?”
“I have nothing to add, Sir. I’m of the opinion that each Captain acted correctly according to their own circumstances, although Captain Argent does appear laggard in obeying the order to withdraw.”
Grant looked at Broke, his face cold, but he had more serious issues to concern him. There was no change when he turned his baleful gaze to Cheveley.
“Captain Cheveley, I have to tell you that I am not satisfied with your answers, therefore I will stop this conversation amongst us now. The agreed plan was that La Pomone be cut out, sunk or damaged and that you support Ariadne as she withdrew with the boarding party after, after, I say again, they had inflicted what damage they could. It was clearly agreed that you would give support, if only by dividing the enemy’s fire. There is now grave doubt that you complied, thus leaving Ariadne to make her exit unsupported. I must make it clear that I will mention this in my report to the Admiralty. If they wish to pursue the matter further, I’m sure you will hear from them, as I’m sure that I will.”
Cheveley sat forward, not even slightly chastened, his natural anger building at any slight against himself. He clearly did not want an end to the discussion at this point but Grant had raised his hand, palm out, and then he stood up.
“Our meeting is finished, gentlemen.”
Cheveley looked as though he were bursting to say more, but Grant had turned to Broke.
“Is the dry dock free?”
“At the moment, yes, but I have a Revenuer that needs attention.”
“Ariadne goes in first. She gets priority. Am I clear?”
Broke nodded, as they all rose from their seats. Cheveley was the last to rise and, being in a state of mounting anger, would have re-opened the argument, but Broke went to him and pushed him gently towards the door; then they both left together. Grant placed his hand on Argent’s arm, saying nothing, but, plainly, he wanted him to stay. Sanders looked back, alerted by his Captain’s absence.
A Question of Duty Page 25