Richard Testrake - (Sea Command 2)

by Richard Testrake

  In all, forty men and a junior officer were found and secured. In each case, every enemy gunner woke with the point of a bayonet at his throat. The whole undertaking was accomplished with no alarm.

  The rain stopped just before dawn and the ship’s boats cautiously approached the cove. Mullins was aboard the launch. having left Mister Danton to command the ship.

  Lieutenant Daniels met his captain on the shore and led him to the battery. All four guns were intact and in good condition. They were British nine-pounders of recent pattern, mounted on naval carriages of French design.

  Mullins explained to Daniels that he wished to carry off the guns. There being no shipping in the harbor to take, he thought the return of Terrors’ guns might prove their dedication to their masters in London.

  The task proved not to be overwhelming. While the naval gun carriages proved to be unsuited to hauled down the rough road to the quay in the harbor, the guns were dismounted, using a tripod and tackle.

  Two span of oxen were taken from their byres in the hamlet and used to drag the guns to the pier. Each gun was lowered by tackle into a boat and pulled out to the ship. Upon their return, with no evidence of their discovery by French forces, the gun carriages themselves were also taken out to the ship.

  Although, these were locally made gun carriages, Mullins thought they might be used until the carpenter had the opportunity to construct new ones of the proper pattern.

  The ship continued to search for enemy shipping. While the recent activities had furnished valuable training to the crew, Mullins wanted badly to take a prize. Doing such would furnish evidence to the crew that cruising against the enemy could furnish them extra income. Taking a profitable prize would definitely improve the crew’s morale. Destroying enemy fortifications was all very well, but there was nothing like a profitable prize to lift men’s spirits.

  The ship did encounter several small trading vessels, but most of them were able to duck into protective coves, in which Mullins was reluctant to enter. In addition to un-marked gun positions, it was wise to be wary of shallows and obstructions. Consequently, Valkyrie spent much of her time offshore, hoping to encounter a prosperous victim.

  Off Dieppe, a small convoy was sighted, possibly bound for Le Havre. A brig was shepherding a half dozen vessels. When first sighted, this brig was wearing neither a commission pennant nor national colors, so it was agreed she likely was a privateer.

  Soon, the brig raised British colors but when asked to give the private number, her signal was gibberish. To remove all doubt, HMS Valkyrie set her course to intercept the convoy, her pennant, colors and private number streaming in the stiff breeze.

  With that, the brig dropped the British ensign and deserted her charges, escaping out to sea. Mullins was tempted to pursue the erstwhile guardian to bring her into port as his prize. Instead, he made for the closest merchant vessel, a slow brigantine, low in the water. Valkyrie ran her down, then put a prize crew aboard before and went after another of the scattering convoy. This was a larger ship-rigged vessel, also with a full hold.

  This ship, although a heavy one, was also fast enough to give them a chase, and it was coming on dusk when she hove to. Deciding to leave the remaining ships of the convoy to their own devises, Mullins opted to give this one his personal attention, so he went over to it with the prospective prize-master, Master’s Mate Gainer.

  The ship’s crew was busily swilling as much of the cargo of wine as they could drink, and some were already incapable. The prize crew was armed with pistols and a few muskets. These weapons were used when necessary, with more than a few of the drunks receiving broken heads when they refused to follow orders or resented being put below.

  The ship’s cargo was mostly wine in barrels, with a few cases of bottled wine in secured compartments. In the hold, were quantities of military hardware, consisting of cased muskets, bayonets and accoutrements. Altogether, a most profitable prize.

  The brigantine, previously taken, was now out of sight in the night, but her midshipman commanding had been ordered to take her into Portsmouth. Valkyrie followed her in.

  Chapter Four

  It was a satisfactory report Mullins had to submit to the flag. The ship had experienced no particular problems, the crew had received some training and experience at little cost and it had proved to be a financially rewarding cruise for captain and crew.

  Almost immediately after mooring, signals were received from shore demanding the status of the ship, crew and stores. Shortly after these reports were submitted, lighters began to come alongside, delivering the required supplies. It took two days for the ship to load everything aboard and then she had to move out into the harbor to receive ammunition to replace that shot away at the enemy.

  While engaged with this activity, a powder hoy, delivering its load of deadly propellant, handed over six men being drafted to Valkyrie. These were ostensibly replacements for men injured in the recent actions, but those few had not been badly injured and were still aboard ship, expected to fully recover.

  The new men were hardly bargains, five had been imprisoned for various petty crimes and were being released to the Navy instead of serving their time in cells. The fifth was a former forester who had been caught taking an unreasonable amount of his lord’s game. It was almost expected the woodsman would help himself to the occasional hare or partridge, but the young stag Bob Warner shot was beyond the pale. The lord had hoped this animal would mature into a worthy trophy, and his anger at its demise could have sent the forester to the gallows. Instead, he had been given the option of entering the Royal Navy.

  In the event, these men were given their ratings as landsmen, and the first lieutenant hoped he might make seamen of at least several of them.

  At his summons to the flag, Mullins met with the flag captain and was given his orders. Since he had experience with the French coastal waters of the Channel, he was assigned to the Inshore Squadron of the blockade in the Le Havre area.

  After his duties were explained, the flag captain touched on the matter of the enemy batteries ruined and the guns recovered.

  “Captain Mullins, you must be applauded for your actions against the shore batteries. I wonder why you went to the trouble to bring those guns back, though.”

  Mullins explained how he had discovered some French shore batteries were armed with recovered British guns and had decided to bring back as many as he could.

  “Just where are these guns at the moment?”

  : Sir, we recovered four guns at the second battery we took. I had four empty gun ports and they are now mounted on gun carriages at those ports, ready for use.”

  The flag captain asked, “You do realize these extra guns will have no effect on your command? HMS Valkyrie will still remain a non-rated sloop-of-war, commanded by a commander.”

  Mullins offered to land the guns, but his supervisor demurred.

  “I suspect the guns will be most effectively used on Valkyrie’s deck, rather than rusting in a warehouse on shore. You may as well keep the guns, being prepared to turn them in whenever asked.”

  With these formalities out of the day, they went on to discuss the challenges of the close blockade of coastal France. The flag captain reminded Mullins that much of the military supplies for the French forces in the field were transported by sea. “Even a small coaster will carry more than a whole train of wagons and arrive faster, as long as it is not interdicted by our blockaders. The captains of these coasters will be constantly thinking of ways to get their cargos past your vigil. You, in turn must find means to surprise them.”

  This would be hazardous duty, especially in gale conditions but it was necessary. It could also be profitable, as evidenced by the success of his preliminary cruise in HMS Valkyrie.

  Since the onshore wind would prohibit sailing until it veered, Mullins thought it safe to visit the nearby chandlers to purchase some cabin supplies.

  Taking his servant with him to carry the purchases, they took the gig ashore an
d hired a light wagon for the shopping expedition. After nearly filling the wagon, Davis cleared his throat and wondered where all this food could be stored aboard ship.

  Getting the point, Mullins stowed his purse and ordered Davis to take the purchases back to the ship. They were near the George Inn and he thought he would step in, have a drink and see if there would be any acquaintances, with whom he might reminisce. The inn was crowded, with no place to sit, so he stood at the bar, quaffing his stout and nattering with an aged commander who had been fruitlessly hoping to get a ship for a decade.

  Dismayed at the officer’s misfortune, he took the opportunity to leave, when the fellow turned to make a trip to the necessary. In so doing, the slightly inebriated elderly officer nearly collided with another elderly officer, this one wearing the glorious uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet, Sir Richard Howe, himself.

  Howe glanced at the ancient commander, shrugged off the near accident, then stared at Mullins for an instant. Captain Mullins was decidedly uncomfortable being noticed by Lord Howe, one of the more notable figures in the Royal Navy. He had recently been successful at quelling the recent mutinies at the Nore and Spithead. Lately, the rumor was the Fleet Admiral was in poor health. Howe nodded at Mullins and left the building.

  Grateful for not being held to blame for the near collision, Mullins also left and headed for a nearby cabriolet waiting for custom. While he was bargaining with the driver over the fare to the quay, a beautifully dressed lieutenant hurried up to the cabriolet. He recognized this officer to be one of Admiral Howe’s party and decided it would be wise to heed what he had to say, regardless of the disparity in rank.

  The officer introduced himself as Howe’s flag lieutenant and reported Howe had requested Mullins to call upon him at his earliest convenience. The lieutenant said, when pressed, that Howe was presently bound for a house that he had taken for his stay in Portsmouth and it might be best if Mullins would follow him there and report.

  Mullins relayed the new destination to the now truculent driver. By the time Mullins had pacified his driver by the offer of an extra silver shilling, Lord Howe’s carriage had departed and it took some time for the cabriolet’s driver to puzzle out the exact destination.

  Upon arrival there though, Mullins was expected and a glass of sherry was pressed into his hand almost as soon as he arrived. For over a half hour, Mullins remained in the dark as to the reason for his presence.

  Howe made a brief appearance to greet him and ask a few questions about his family. He then disappeared, with his flag lieutenant reporting Lord Howe was indisposed and had retired for the evening. The lieutenant disclosed the purpose of this meeting was to give Captain Mullins the particulars of a task that had been put to the Fleet Admiral by His Majesty.

  The officer requested Captain Mullins to report aboard the flagship early next morning for a thorough briefing. A team of specialists had arrived from the Admiralty for the purpose. Puzzled over all of this secrecy, Mullins went back to his ship and told the officer of the anchor watch to make sure his boat and crew were ready to take him to the flag in the morning.

  As he made his way too his quarters, puzzling over the evening’s revalations, he saw Master’s Mate Gainer beckon to a figure standing by the lee quarterdeck rail. It was Midshipman Raynor, last seen on the deck of the sinking Andromeda. After an enthusiastic welcome, Raynor related how he and other members of the ship’s crew had recovered the jolly boat, patched the hole in her side and sailed her out to sea. After their rescue, the men had spent time on the Island of Guernsey, before sailing on another fishing boat. After meeting up with another boat from Plymouth, they transferred onto that boat and eventually made their way back to England.

  Once on shore, the party split up. Ben and Edward remained with Mister Raynor. They assured him, Captain Mullin’s father, if they could reach his home, would see to them. Raynor had every faith that his captain had survived and thought the French might someday exchange him for a French prisoner of equal rank.

  When the press printed the story of Mullin’s escape, the three posted to Portsmouth to locate him. Raynor had negotiated a note of hand so they were able to take rooms to stay out of sight. Raynor, of course, wearing his midshipman’s garb, did not have to concern himself with the Press, but Ben and Edward were fair game.

  The other survivors separated and were not seen again. They were likely snapped up by the Press and sent to other ships. Or, they may have decided to abandon their back pay and prize money and desert. Raynor daily made the rounds of the various pubs and finally learned Captain Mullins was alive and was commanding the Valkyrie, now at anchor in the harbor.

  Mullin’s cox’n did not let him down. Every member of the boat’s crew was ready for an admiral’s inspection, as was the boat itself. The boat started out at first light, its crew rowing easy so they would not wet their captain’s clothing.

  On board the flagship, at first light, Captain Mullins knew he would likely not see Admiral Howe, but thought he might be called into the great cabin to meet with the port admiral. Instead, the flag captain met him at the entry port and wondered what he had been up to garner this much attention. He was then handed over to the first lieutenant to lead him to the wardroom which had been vacated by the ship’s officers and now had four strange civilians sitting around the wardroom table. A pair of ship’s Marines were posted just inside the entrance. The first lieutenant departed and the men introduced themselves as members of the Admiralty intelligence staff. No names were disclosed.

  These people apparently spent their days poring over information that had been brought across the channel at great danger and expense.

  As Mullins well knew, King George III of Britain was also Elector of Hanover, a small state of German speaking peoples. His grandfather, George I had become King of England, while remaining liege-lord of Hanover. It was well known that King George III was proud of his Hanoverian roots and acknowledged his many Hanoverian relatives.

  It had been recently discovered that one of these relatives, apparently a grand-nephew, had been sent to school in France at a young age, accompanied by his governess and a master-at-arms, who was to instruct the lad in the use of arms. When the French authorities discovered the young princeling was being influenced to travel to Britain for military or naval training, they immediately put travel restrictions on the lad and his entourage.

  Apparently, French naval authorities, embarrassed by the poor showing of the fleet against their British adversaries, hoped to re-invigorate their fleet by introducing fresh blood into the French naval service, and thought the young German prince might be a good example.

  Young Prince Adolphus was removed from his school and transferred to a manor, once the property of Louis XVI, located in a former hunting preserve inland of the Brittany coast, which had been used as a retreat by the former monarch. The former governess and the master at arms were also transferred. Great secrecy was attached to the move, and it was not thought necessary to assign a vast number of guards to the new guests. A few companies of foot soldiers were assigned from a nearby depot, who would undertake to monitor the approaches to the manor and prevent anyone without license from entering or leaving.

  In due course, the French planned to expose Prince Adolphus to the French naval service, first through using distinguished officers as tutors, then perhaps sending him to sea on a warship.

  The plan developed by the Lord Howes staff, with input from the Palace, required the Prince be informed of the opportunity to remove to England. While there was no evidence that King George III had ever met this princeling before, it was well known of his empathy toward his Hanoverian relatives. Therefore, every effort was to be made to insure the safety of Prince Adolphus and his entourage. Prince Adolphus would not be forced to remove himself from France, but he and his entourage were to be given every opportunity to leave if they so wished.

  A landing on the Brittany coast was planned and a march through the dense forest between the coast and t
he manor was decided upon. Sufficient men would accompany the attempt to give the effort a good chance of success. Charts and maps were available there in the flagship’s wardroom to study. Since twelve English miles of overgrown forest stood between the invaders and their objective, it would be necessary to start this sortie early.

  The necessity for speed had been expressed, but somehow delays crept into the schedule. Extra Marines for the anticipayed assault upon the manor housing the prince were added to the roster, in addition to more seamen in case of unanticipated losses. Valkyrie’s first lieutenant suffered agonies deciding where to stow all of these people.

  The ship sailed with the tide and the trip across the Channel was without incident. Mullins did not have the time to work up his crew as usual, but fortunately because of the additional seamen added to the crew, enough skilled hands were available to avoid embarrassment to the ship.

  The forest, during the days of its aristocratic owners, had once been a well-kept, parklike expanse. Now though, after a decade or more of disuse, it was a tangled wilderness. Originally, the Marines took the point, leading the burdened seamen. It was soon apparent though, that the Marines had no more knowledge of this wilderness than any other persons from the slums of London.

  It was then Bob Warner showed his worth. Used to living and working in the forest of his lord, he adapted to this one on the coast of France with aplomb. By morning, they had covered half the distance they needed to travel. With some idea now of the differences between coastal France and their own territory back home, the men began to lose their fears. While all of this area had once been the property of King Louis XVI, now landless peasants had begun putting up occasional hovels and cultivating small patches of ground. Warner scouted ahead of the party, guiding them around these areas to avoid giving any alarm of their presence. After some hours, the party came upon a peasant and his wife out to till the ground of their tiny holding with a span of oxen and a wooden plough. The woman led the beasts while her man kept the furrow straight.