The Seahorse

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The Seahorse Page 20

by Michael Aye


  “Who said anything about sleeping?” This caught his attention. Deborah had sat up with the covers about her neck. When her husband turned back, she dropped them. “Am I as enticing as those old ships?” she asked.

  “Much more enticing madam…much more.” For the moment his other worries were completely forgotten.

  On board HMS SeaHorse, George Jepson looked at the red sky, “Squalls, Captain.”

  “Aye,” Buck replied with a shiver.

  The island trader, Anna, dropped anchor in Carlisle Bay within an hour of Lord Anthony’s arrival on board his flagship. Unlike a naval vessel, the little schooner dropped anchor within a pistol shot of the towering man o’ war. The captain of the schooner picked up a speaking trumpet and hailed the flagship. In the man’s broken English, he stated that he had three wounded sailors and could they send a doctor over.

  Anthony felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, sure his fears had been realized. Buck had called for the surgeon, who was getting into the captain’s gig.

  “I have decided to go over myself, sir,” Buck informed Anthony.

  “Thank you, Rupert,” Anthony said, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Buck had known how important it was to get the information fast and correctly.

  Bart, standing next to Anthony, whispered, “Maybe they’re not ours, sir.” But deep in his heart he knew otherwise.

  Buck returned before the hourglass turned. He was accompanied by the schooner’s captain, a smallish man who said he was from Trinidad. He was sailing home from Guadeloupe when as the sun went down he thought he heard the distant rumblings of thunder. However, it didn’t take long for him to realize it was cannon fire. He got close enough that he could see the orange flames from the cannons just as it got dark. Not wanting to be mistaken as the enemy to either of the ships, he decided to heave to till dawn.

  “How long ago was this?” Anthony asked.

  “Two nights ago, señor,” the little captain replied. “I waited until the sun was high before I made sail. I wanted to make sure there were no ships that would take my little Anna. She is all I have.”

  A smart move, Anthony thought.

  “Soon as we set sail we began to see…how do you say it…pieces of ship?”

  “Debris,” Buck said.

  “Si. There was debris everywhere. We reduced sail to see if we could find anything we could use.” The man paused, a little embarrassed by his admission of being a scavenger.

  “That’s all right,” Anthony said, wanting the man to continue.

  “I soon see bodies floating. Some mangled by battles, others by the sharks.” The man quickly made the sign of the cross. “It was terrible, señor.” The man paused again as he recalled the floating carnage. “I soon see two men hanging onto a floating section of a mast and then one holding onto a hatch cover. They were in a bad way. One of the men kept saying, ‘The French, it was the French.’ I knew then I could not go to Martinique so I decided to come here.”

  “What about St. Lucia?” Buck asked.

  “It was too close to Martinique so I didn’t want to chance it.”

  “Neither would I,” Anthony replied.

  “I hope Viper hasn’t run up with the frogs,” Buck said. “I told him to stand far enough out that he should miss the French patrols.”

  After questioning the man further regarding his having sighted any French ships and getting negative replies, Anthony thanked the man. He had Hazard to fetch a small bag of gold coins to reward the man for his actions. Hazard escorted the man topside and had him rowed back to his ship.

  When the man was gone from the cabin and out of earshot, Buck spoke. “That reward was probably more than he makes in a year.”

  “It was well worth it,” Anthony answered. “Let him know we British are a thankful lot. You never know when he may be of some help in the future.” He then called for Bart.

  “Aye.”

  “Call my barge so we can go ashore. I need to make Lord Ragland aware of the situation. Rupert, I should be back in an hour. Have all captains, first lieutenants, and masters repair on board by that time. See if you can round up Sir Victor and let him know. I’m sure he needs to be apprised of the situation also.”

  “I’m sure he’s on board Peregrine,” Buck said with a smile.

  “He and Gabe have gotten that close?” Anthony asked.

  “More like him and Gabe’s new cabin servant.”

  “Yes, that Nesbit has a talent.” Bart had just returned to escort Anthony to his waiting barge and overheard the conversation. “Maybe we could sit ole Silas on the beach and steals Nesbit.”

  This brought a chuckle to the group but not from everyone within hearing. Silas had been in the pantry and overheard Bart’s remarks. “Put me on the beach would ’e. We’s a-see who’s on the beach. It’ll be a cold day in torment for Bart gets another snack. A cold day and that’s no error.”

  ***

  Lord Ragland accompanied Anthony back to the flagship for the officer’s call. To Anthony’s relief, Viper had entered the bay and would be anchoring soon. One of the survivors picked up by the little island trader was Lieutenant Hallett, captain of Ferret. Against doctor’s orders, he’d left the hospital on Barbados and reported to the flagship. Understanding his need, Buck had personally welcomed him aboard like a returning hero. The officers were all seated at Anthony’s table with the first lieutenants and masters standing against the bulkhead. The group got quiet as Anthony made his way to the head of the table.

  “Viper has just dropped anchor,” he told the group, “so we’ll wait a few minutes for Jackson. In the meantime let’s enjoy a glass of claret.”

  As the glasses were being filled, Anthony looked at his officers. We are so few…he thought…so few.

  ***

  Once Lieutenant Jackson had joined the group, Anthony asked Hallett to tell of their action with the French.

  “It was just at dusk,” the wounded officer said. “We had sighted the sails but thought nothing of it as we didn’t know the French had joined with the Colonies. The lead ship was the eighty-gun Tourville, which was sailing in formation with several smaller ships. Two of fifty guns each, I’d say, along with a heavy frigate, probably a forty-four, and a corvette of twenty-two. Captain Fletcher fired a salute to the French flag. Then quick as you please…almost like that was a planned signal, the French broke formation. The flagship sailed down Intrepid’s larboard side while the two fiftys broke to starboard. The gun ports were opened and Captain Fletcher never had a chance. It being a calm sea, upper and lower deck guns were used. Round after round was poured into Intrepid. By the time the ships were past, there was nothing left. Nobody could have survived. There was no call for surrender. It was the most vicious attack I’d ever seen. I tried to put Ferret about but the heavy frigate fired on us, sending balls up our arse just as we come about. One second I was standing on a hatch, my glass in my hand, the next I was flying through the air.”

  “Who, besides yourself, survived?” Markham asked.

  “My master, Nate Hayes, and the bosun, Abe Pogoda.”

  “How bad are they?” Gabe asked.

  “Knocked about mostly. I think they will be back to duty soon. No others survived.” Taking a breath and wiping the tears that filled his eyes Hallett tried to gain control of his emotions. “Several survived the blast but then at dark the sharks came. Scream after scream filled the air. Once I felt one brush my leg but I was able to pull myself up on the hatch cover. It was a frenzy. The water churned as the devils tore my men apart. I prayed to God that if they come after me let it be quick. I don’t know how long it lasted but it seemed like an hour or so before the screams went away.”

  When Hallett finished his narrative, he grabbed his glass and downed the contents, feeling the warm liquid go down. The men at the table were silent, each thankful they’d not been put through the ordeal. After a moment, Anthony stood and raised his glass.

  “To fallen comrades…and death to the F
rench.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The loss of Intrepid was a tremendous blow to the squadron’s firepower. Therefore, the xebec had to be pressed into service.

  “Who do we put in command?” Anthony asked Buck. “Every situation I come up with weakens us somewhere else. We’ll have to strip Viper and Alert then take a few from the frigates to finish out the crew.”

  “That’s the only way possible,” Buck said, agreeing with Anthony.

  “I’ll put Culzean aboard as captain.”

  Nodding his agreement, Buck added, “He has a cool head and the man’s no coward. Where will you assign Taylor and Jackson?”

  After thinking a bit, Anthony said, “I’ll let Jackson stay aboard Viper with a dozen hands, just enough to sail her. He will be ordered to not engage in battle. If we fail it’s his job to report to Lord Ragland. As for Taylor, he can go with Culzean to the xebec.”

  Overhead the ship’s bells could be heard. It was six bells in the afternoon watch, one hour till the first dogwatch.

  “Do you still intend to weigh anchor on the evening tide?”

  “I think so,” Anthony replied. How he longed to say no and postpone leaving until dawn, spending what might be his last night on earth with his wife and daughter.

  Reading his thoughts, Buck said, “You’ll see her in a few days, sir. I feel certain.”

  “Thank you, Rupert. That was kind, old friend.” However, inwardly Anthony thought, I wish I was as certain.

  The men were transferred and were just settling in when Captain Richard Culzean was piped aboard. He didn’t read himself in knowing this was a temporary command. He just hoped it wasn’t too temporary. Making his way through the ship, Culzean heard the unmistakable giggle. Seeing the bosun, Culzean called to him. “Get the women ashore. All of them.”

  “Aye Captain. I already made one sweep but a second wouldn’t be amiss.”

  Hearing a shout, Culzean grinned. “Caught in the act I’ll bet. Well, the trollops would rather face a little awkwardness than a French cannonball.”

  ***

  The sky was overcast with fast moving clouds. Bart walked in the admiral’s cabin and saw him looking out the stern windows.

  “Jep says the clouds are heavy with a promise of rain.”

  Anthony did not speak and Bart, knowing his moods, didn’t press it. It seemed to have been easier when His Lordship had been a captain. Then he had the workings of the ship to keep him busy…his mind occupied, but now it was stay out of the way and worry. Getting a cup of coffee from Silas, Bart made a motion toward Anthony. Silas understood immediately. He took the cup back, poured a quarter of it into another cup, and then refilled the cup with brandy. He added a spoon of mixed cinnamon and sugar then handed the cup back to Bart. He ambled toward Anthony, sneaking a quick taste before offering the cup to Anthony.

  As Anthony turned, Bart could see the old meerschaum pipe in his hand. The pipe had been Anthony’s father’s, Lord James Anthony. Taking the cup in one hand, Anthony put the pipe in his coat pocket.

  Taking a drink of the coffee, Anthony looked at Bart and said, “Tell me, Bart, how many Barbados plantation owners are going to lose their holdings after playing cards with you and Jepson?”

  “Well, they’s a few what owes us but none to the point of losing they land. Course that boy what dueled with Davy owed a few guineas but we didn’t ask his father for it.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” Anthony was about to ask another question when he and Bart heard the noise.

  Thinking of Jep’s prediction of rain, Bart said, “Thunder.” He instantly knew he was wrong.

  “Gunfire,” he and Anthony said at the same time. Rushing on deck, Anthony found Buck on the quarterdeck.

  “We’ve spotted a sail fine on the weather bow, My Lord. It appears she’s being chased.”

  “Deck thar. Ships in sight behind the lone ship, sir. I make out six sail of the line.”

  “Damme,” Buck pounded the rail, “six to four.” Then seeing one of the helmsmen eye him, Buck turned to Lord Anthony, “Not much of a bargain for the French would you say, sir?”

  “Why no, Captain Buck. I thought we were in for a battle there for a moment.” This brought a chuckle from those within hearing distance. “Captain Buck, general signal to our ships to prepare for battle!”

  The signal flags were quickly run up SeaHorse’s yards. Buck then called to his first lieutenant. “Mr Lamb.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Beat to quarters and clear for action.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The rattle of drums filled the air as men poured from the hatchways and rushed to their stations. Anthony braced himself and looked at the ship being chased by the French.

  “Mr Buck.”

  “Aye, My Lord.”

  “There’s every chance that we can snatch yonder prize right out of the frog’s clutches.”

  “Wouldn’t that disappoint them,” Buck said with a laugh. “What a pity.”

  Anthony smiled to himself when Lamb reported to Buck. “Cleared for action, sir, all hands at their stations.” Eight minutes flat.

  “Damme,” declared Buck. “It seems our jack tars are in the mood for a little frog stew.”

  Standing at his station beside the big double wheel, Jepson smiled. “Aye, they are eager. They’ve got revenge on their minds after what the French did to their mates on Intrepid and Ferret.” Chomping on the remains of an unlit cigar, Jepson recalled the last days of the Seven Year War. There had been carnage aplenty. Well, some of these lads hot for revenge will find there’s a price to pay…a high price for some who wouldn’t live to see the sunset.

  Bart appeared on deck with Anthony’s sword belt and a brace of pistols. “I let the belt out a mile. I noticed it was a bit snug the last time you wore it.”

  “You mangy cur,” Anthony exclaimed. “I’m surprised you can even make it through the damn hatch.”

  “I just follow yew,” Bart replied. “If yews make it through, I’s can.”

  Those close by hid a smile. The gentle bickering between Bart and Anthony was well known.

  “Pray, Captain Buck, tell me what you find so humourous.”

  “Bart got the last word in again, My Lord.”

  “The rascal did at that. I’ll see him on the beach yet, Captain. Mark my word.”

  “Aye,” Buck replied, trying not to smile. About the time you haul down your flag, he thought to himself.

  A flapping noise from above made Buck look up. It was Anthony’s flag. It flapped briskly from the mizzen. Hopefully it won’t be hauled down too soon.

  “Rupert.”

  “Aye, My Lord.”

  “I believe we have time for a quick walk and speak to the men.” Another of Anthony’s traditions. A moment with the men before the metal started flying—to let them know he cared.

  With Bart trailing, the trio made their way down to the deck below. Speaking to the men, Anthony said, “After we’ve showed these frogs what for, I think we’ll have spirits and a double tot for all hands. I’m sure they’ll work up a thirst.”

  “Huzza…Huzza for His Lordship!” the hands cheered. Once the cheering died down, Anthony cleared his throat and continued.

  “And if the purser complains, he’ll get a dozen.” This brought more cheers.

  As Anthony moved along, a gray-bearded, grizzled gun captain rose up, a dirty handkerchief already tied about his ears. “Don’t you worry none, Admiral.” Patting the breech of his cannon with his gnarled, rheumatoid hand, he continued, “We’ll give ’em a good dost of what they gave the poor buggers on Intrepid and Ferret, we will. Old Betsy and me, twenty-four pounds atta time.”

  Johns, the third lieutenant, stood grinning at the gun captain’s comments. “We’ll all give them a taste of British metal, My Lord.”

  “I know you will,” Anthony replied. “I can’t wait to see how they act from the reception you lads plan.”

  Another cheer went up as
Anthony and Buck went back up to the upper deck, ducking the low beams as they did so. It’ll be hell down here, Anthony thought, utter hell.

  Pausing before the last step, Anthony stooped down and shouted, “Death to the French, give them hell men!” Another cheer.

  “They’re ready!” Buck exclaimed.

  “As I am,” Anthony replied. The walk along the upper deck was much the same. Shaking Lieutenant Neal’s hand, Anthony made his way back to the quarterdeck. Hazard was there with his hand resting on the handle of his sword. His empty sleeve was pinned up and he had a determined look on his face. Anthony had come to not only like but also to rely more and more on this young man. “Have a care today, Everette.”

  “Aye, My Lord, and you as well.”

  “I’ll take my leave now, sir,” Buck spoke to his admiral in a business like tone. It was time.

  “Take care, Rupert.”

  “Aye sir,” Buck replied, and then went to do his duties.

  Taking a glass, Anthony could now clearly see the approaching vessels. They were in a ragged formation. Jepson could be heard speaking to Buck.

  “They have the wind gage, sir.”

  Anthony thought of the battle plan he’d laid out not twenty-four hours ago. It was his feeling that while the French were excellent sailors, they showed little imagination when it came to battle. What they had done to Intrepid was what he planned to do in return. He hoped they’d never expect the maneuver in a fleet to fleet battle. Upon his signal, Peregrine and the xebec would break to larboard while SeaHorse and Dasher would pass to starboard. This would put the enemy at a disadvantage, as the French crew would have to be split or face an all-out onslaught without any return fire.

  The xebec with its heavier cannons should have led the charge to larboard but with the makeshift crew and Culzean’s lack of experience, it fell to Gabe to lead and the xebec to follow. Thinking of Gabe, Anthony wondered would Faith ever forgive him if something happened to his brother. Would he…could he forgive himself?

  Both he and Gabe understood the dangers of their chosen profession. Gabe had turned into a good seaman, a good captain. Our father would have been proud, he thought, as I am.

 

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