A few moments later the larboard lookout hailed to say that he had spotted a brig on the larboard bow also coming towards them. As the light slowly strengthened, there was a hail from the fore topmast that the brigs had their guns run out.
“Hold your course,” Giles told the helmsman. Giles was sure that this must be the enemy brigs. He would engage them, even before verifying who they might be. Withstanding a surprise broadside when he was situated between the two approaching warships would undoubtedly put him at a serious risk. They were likely sailing under false colors anyway. The two ships were now steering as if to intercept Impetuous, one on each side probably with the intention to board. If it was true that each had extra-large crews, they might easily outnumber Impetuous’s crew. With the slow pace at which all three ships were sailing, there was little danger that their top hamper would go by the board when the greater weight of Impetuous stopped them abruptly when they grappled,
Giles was glad that he had maintained the custom of clearing for action before dawn each night. Many captains, he knew, including Blenkinsop, had ceased or limited the practice when they felt no imminent danger because of the inconvenience of having the captain’s cabin, as well as the wardroom, struck below*. He could immediately order, “Fire the bow-chasers as soon as they bear, Mr. Stewart. Aim for the rigging. Larboard your helm, quartermaster, until the starboard bow chasers point at the enemy. When they have fired, hard over to starboard. Mr. Miller, prepare to fight both sides. Double-shotted round shot for the first two salvos. Then prepare to load with grape* if possible. We are going to cross the bow of the brig to larboard and then come alongside her, starboard side to starboard side, and grapple”
The bow chasers roared out at that moment. Giles could see that they had done no major damage, but they had severed enough rigging that the brig’s maneuverability would be compromised until repairs were made. Impetuous’s bow swung to larboard. To the credit of the gun crews, who had reloaded very quickly, the bow chasers fired on the new target as they bore. This time there was noticeable damage as one of the chain slings holding up the foresail yard was severed.
Impetuous continued to turn. The leading gun of the starboard battery had the oncoming brig in her sights and roared out. To Giles’s surprise, the opposing brig did not turn to swing alongside his ship. Maybe the damage had made her unmaneuverable, maybe she was counting on accepting the fire to respond by raking Impetuous’s even more vulnerable stern. If the latter was his intent, Giles was already foiling it. “Hard a starboard,” he instructed. “Lay alongside the enemy.”
Impetuous reversed her turn to try to swing alongside her opponent. The guns continued to fire even as Impetuous continued to turn. This time, the shots did more noticeable damage and the brig’s foremast collapsed. The brig lost way. Unfortunately, Impetuous had not been able to turn sharply enough to come alongside her. Hendricks backed her sail with one hundred feet still separating her from the brig. The two ships lay side by side exchanging broadsides, but there were many guns on the brig that could no longer fire because of Impetuous’s original shots. More of the enemy’s guns were being overturned by the minute. The wind was slowly carrying the brig down on Impetuous. Giles ordered the change from round shot to grapeshot. Even the carronades* were using grapeshot to try to clear the opponent’s deck. Mr. Macauley’s marines picked off men on the brig’s deck causing more confusion and slaughter. Giles had heard that in a fight, the scuppers could run with blood, but he had never actually seen it before. He glanced around his own deck and saw that there were heavy losses.
Grapnels were thrown by both sides and soon the ships were pulled together. Giles wanted to board his opponent and not to have fighting on his own deck in case the other brig was able to enter the fray. “Larboard guns, remain at your station,” he ordered. “All others prepare to board.” The topmen swarmed down rigging and grabbed cutlasses and pistols. The starboard gun crews secured their weapons after a final broadside and prepared to join the boarding party. The ships came together, and Giles roared, “Mr. Hendricks, boarders away!” He himself remained on Impetuous. Indeed, he even turned away from the ensuing melee to see what had happened to the other brig.
It was as well that he did. The other brig, despite the damage to her rigging, had succeeded in tacking around the fighting frigates and was now closing in on Impetuous’s larboard side with the clear intention of grappling. Giles would have to hold off the crew of this vessel until Mr. Hendricks had subdued the opposition on the other brig. Numbers were now the big question. Did he have enough men to withstand the joint attack of the brigs?
“Larboard battery, load with grape. Fire as you bear,” he ordered. “Fighting top*, fire on the enemy to larboard. To larboard.” He bellowed to the marines who were still in the fighting top picking off pirates on the first brig.
The other brig glided into position, her broadside sending salvo after salvo of round shot thudding into Impetuous’s hull. Grapnels were thrown and swarms of men lined up to board, even though some were mowed down by the continuing swathes of grape shot ripping through them. Giles realized that the confusion caused by the salvos gave him an advantage. “Leave your guns,” he bellowed. “Boarders away! Follow me.”
Drawing his sword, Giles leapt over the bulwarks. His left foot came down on some rounded object and he felt a sharp pain in his knee. Regaining his balance, and ignoring the continuing pain in his knee, he charged at the nearest defenders, cutting them down. Time seemed to slow while his sight became crystal clear. He slashed at a man to his right, severing his arm in a fountain of blood, and the recovery from that blow led the hand-guard of his sword right onto the chin of another opponent knocking the man immediately unconscious. He used the lull that these actions provided him to slide to the left and slice at the neck of a man attacking one of his sailors. The sudden blockage as this victim fell halted the advance of his opponents and gave room for him to leap forward, ignoring again a sharp pain in his knee as he slipped over his previous opponent. His men surged after him and their momentum carried them forward, putting the defenders further off balance so that they could be killed with cutlass or rendered unconscious with belaying pins. Giles attacked like a berserker, almost unstoppable in his fury, and his battle madness seemed to protect him from being wounded. The wave of men from Impetuous slowed, however, and it might have stopped and been forced back by the press of pirates had not a loud, unintelligible battle-cry resounded from their left. Lieutenant Hendricks, his business finished on the first brig, had come to Giles’s aid. Soon their opponents started to throw down their weapons and plead for mercy, apparently realizing that they might be better off to accept the possibility of hanging at a later date, even a very strong probability, to being slaughtered on the spot.
Giles leant on his sword for several moments regaining his breath. Apparently, the captain and officers of the brig had been killed, for no one offered the surrender formally though it was clearly taking place. He gave orders to secure the brig and was pleased to learn that Mr. Hendricks had already given the equivalent orders for the other ship. He reflected that his last doubt about Mr. Hendricks had been laid to rest. His first lieutenant had already shown himself capable of becoming an excellent first lieutenant as far as running a frigate was concerned. Now he had proved his mettle in combat.
Giles ordered that the dead pirates be thrown overboard unceremoniously and their wounded gathered at the mast to be looked at by the surgeon when that officer had finished with the wounded from Impetuous. The damage to the brig had to be evaluated as quickly as possible. Orders given, he turned away to reboard Impetuous in order to discover how she had fared and what was the state of the other brig. He slipped in a half congealed pool of blood and the pain in his knee reasserted itself in almost blinding agony. Using his sword as a crutch, Giles hobbled towards the bulwarks to cross to his own ship. He arrived there and realized that it would be impossible for him to climb over to the frigate; his knee would not permit it. He was so
drained that he was tempted to just sit down. But he knew that others would need to work actively despite the fatigue that always followed fierce fighting. He must set an example.
Carstairs saw Giles’s difficulty in crossing between the ships, though he could only guess at what the problem might be. He picked his captain up, carried him across to Impetuous, and gently set him down on his feet. He snatched up a cudgel and handed it to Giles to lean on, the club providing a much better support than the sword. The coxswain had blood running down the side of his face from a cut at his hair line. Giles ordered him to have his cut attended to and somehow joked that he hoped that Elsie would like the scar. He leaned on his cudgel as several of his officers and petty officers reported to him. Impetuous was leaking badly as a result of taking cannon balls close to the water line and also from the general weakening of the ship from the prolonged firing of her guns. The pumps were just holding their own, and Mr. Evans, the carpenter, hoped to make headway on reducing the leaks soon. However, the carpenter thought it would be best if they could fodder fother * a sail over the worst of the leaks. Giles ordered that two sails be prepared with oakum so that the relief could be provided as quickly as possible. Impetuous’s rigging had been scarcely affected by the fighting, and would be repaired much sooner.
The brigs were a different story, having suffered great damage and one of them had lost a mast. The carpenter would have to find a spar to replace it, after clearing up the downed spars and rigging. Luckily, the privateers had not succeeded in clearing away the mess, and much of the rigging and many of the associated spars could be rescued.
A rough reckoning suggested that the brigs had lost half their men, and another quarter were wounded badly enough to be incapacitated. The remaining ones had been safely locked away, with the marines and some of the seaman keeping careful watch over them. Only one of the officers seemed to have survived, though he was among the seriously wounded. He was still unconscious, and might not survive the night. Lieutenant Miller, who reported this, suspected that other officers might be hiding among the prisoners, since the privateers had no uniforms or badges of rank.
Giles refused to leave the deck, but did arrange for a chair to be placed on the quarter deck so that he could take the weight off his injured leg. Dr. Maclean, the surgeon, had wanted to look at the leg, but Giles told him, rather testily, that the doctor should deal with the seriously wounded before looking at his own injury. The ships remained grappled together throughout the day except when they were parted in order to allow the two sails to be foddered fothered under Impetuous. That action did stifle the leaks enough that the pumps were clearly gaining on the water in the bilge and there was some hope that Impetuous could withstand a bit of a blow. Giles ordered the three ships to be joined together again for the night. As much as possible he wanted his crew to rest, for they were exhausted from having no respite after the intense fighting. Luckily the current was carrying the raft of ships to the north, well away from the land.
Morning found no other vessels in sight and the repair work resumed with a well-rested crew. By noon they were ready to proceed and the little convoy set off. Since Impetuous was in the most precarious state and it was doubtful that even the most unskilled midshipman could get lost when he was accompanied by a competent master’s mate on the coming journey, Giles kept his lieutenants with him, and he ordered Mr. Stewart and Mr. Dunsmuir to command the brigs.
Giles was sure that their recent triumph would not be enough to justify Mr. Hendricks’ getting his step. The brigs had brought a heavier weight of metal than Impetuous to the battle since they had twenty-two eighteen-pounders apiece while the frigate only totaled thirty-six and the combined crews of the brigs had been significantly larger that Impetuous’s. But brigs were not frigates, no matter how powerful they might be, and even taking two of them would not be regarded by the Admiralty, or even by the Admiral who should have known better, as a major victory. Mr. Evans reported that being under sail had increased the leaks and Impetuous sailed along to the constant clank of the pumps and the thump of caulking mallets striking oakum. They were headed direct to the Thames and Chatham, without even trying to find the fleet. They hoped they would not founder before reaching their destination.
Giles realized that Impetuous would again have to spend long weeks at the Chatham Dockyard. He was not sorry about that. It would mean a long stay at Dipton Hall, and he was more than ready to be with Daphne for an extended period.
Chapter XIX
Daphne told Lydia that they couldn’t expect to hear from Captain Giles for at least three weeks and it could even be as long as seven weeks before a reply was received. No amount of impatience would make the mails move any more quickly. Daphne’s letter would have to get to Chatham, then be taken to the North Sea Fleet. Next it would have to await the arrival of Mithradates at the Fleet. Mithradates would then require at least a week before she could meet Impetuous, after which the whole process would have to be reversed. This information did not stop Lydia from hovering near Daphne any time mail was received.
The end of the hunting season meant that spring was bursting out. Daphne was being woken as dawn was breaking and from her window she would see all the myriad shades of green as life returned. The display of color became more and more striking as the days lengthened. Lambing season was well advanced and calving was starting. Daphne had many a pleasant ride through the countryside, stopping to talk with her tenants and workers about how they were proceeding and discussing how damp it had been and when plowing could start. The plans were all completed for the new stables and it was time to start building. They would all be moved to a place to the side of the Hall, about three hundred yards distant, while the existing stables would be used for an expanded coach house and stables for visiting horses. The new stables would be screened from the house by shrubbery which could soon be planted. Daphne had liked the work of the architect that Edwards had recommended and both she and Giles were very pleased with the sketches he had drawn of the new building while Mr. Griffiths had suggested only the most utilitarian modifications.
The grounds were a different matter. Neither of the experts whom Mr. Edwards recommended had, in Daphne’s view, a proper appreciation of the landscape and its possibilities. She became very annoyed with each of them when they began to suggest that they knew much better than she did what were the latest trends and how to accomplish a truly striking view from the house and the associated parterre that was required. She dismissed the first one in a huff and was even more annoyed with the second one when he came up with completely different ideas. Each authority claimed that his was the only possible way to treat the area in a satisfactory and modern way, though the second expert’s ideas were totally at variance with those of the first one. Both were, in Daphne’s view, equally senseless. The only thing they could agree on was that Daphne’s suggestions and tentative sketch plans were totally unacceptable.
Daphne had, in fact, for several years, been keeping up with the changing fashions in the best-regarded estate layouts. Unfortunately, Dipton Manor, her father’s home, did not lend itself to much improvement so her ideas had lain dormant waiting for the right moment. Dipton Hall was quite a different matter. Its grounds had never been groomed for any harmonious effect and were ripe for improvement. Daphne lost her temper at the second expert when he was extremely condescending about her “amateurish and ignorant” ideas of the proper layout for a Gentleman’s grounds. She told him in no uncertain terms what she thought both of his manners and his plans. She ended by stating that if this was the best that he could come up with, then she could easily do much better herself and without the expense for his services. Having said that, Daphne felt obliged to at least try to do the design herself.
The plans for the new layout using Daphne’s creativity went forward very quickly. In the course of the attempts by the experts, Daphne had determined all of the relevant measurements and, while rejecting the others’ ideas, she had already formed strong notions of
what was both feasible and attractive. Her design consisted of a gently falling lawn ending in a stone-edged pond, though she had yet to determine how feasible this feature would be and she might have to settle for bordering the stream itself with stone banks. The avenue so created would be defined by woodland and dotted with flower beds, especially rose beds. There would be wide perennial borders and ornamental shrubs to mark the border between the woods and the lawn. Behind the pond another grass alley would rise, without flower beds, to an ornamental, circular temple beyond which a hedge would separate the gardens from the fields.
Daphne knew that she would need her husband’s approval before proceeding. She could send him the plans, of course, and a description of what she intended, but it would be better if she could also include enticing, but realistic, sketches of what it would all look like when completed. Here she faced a dilemma. Though she had been given lessons in drawing and water colors, as had all young ladies, she turned out to be quite hopeless at rendering what she imagined into a drawing. Even her doting father had suggested that possibly her talents lay elsewhere. The sketch, in which she tried to show how the grounds would appear, looked nothing like what she intended: the perspective was all wrong, the flower beds looked more like a disaster of tall weeds than of attractive plants, the pond tilted in a way that was quite impossible and the temple looked more like a smoke-stack transported from some industrial city than an attractive addition to the landscape.
Daphne had been creating her sketch in the large drawing room because that room would have the central view of the completed grounds. She was about to tear it up in disgust when her step-niece, Catherine, came into the room and saw what she was doing.
A Continuing War_At Home and at Sea, 1803-1804 Page 25