HMS Hector: A Charles Mullins Novel (Sea Command Book 6)

by Richard Testrake

  Those wounded, some of them savagely, must remain on Hector and were treated as well as possible. Doctor Burns had come over from Vigilant and despite his sketchy training, was rapidly acquiring the knowledge he must have to be an effective Navy surgeon. The surgeon of the enemy frigate had found a place in one of the boats and soon joined Burns in his cockpit, treating the wounded of both ships.

  With the captured corvette in desperate straits, the decision was made for Hector to escort her to safe harbor.

  Chapter Four

  The pair entered port little better than a week after Hector left. The frigate’s homecoming, was of course not unexpected, but the arrival of this wreck of an enemy corvette certainly was. With their prize on the verge of sinking, she was towed to a shallow area with a soft bottom and allowed to settle.

  HMS Hector had her own injuries to be repaired and it was a week before Mullins was called to the flag to learn of the disposition of the prize. He found the corvette had initially been scheduled to be burned, but a vocal citizen’s group had become interested in her fate. A public outcry tilted the scales and it was decided to put the vessel back together again and send her back to war against her original builders.

  A private yard upriver had just completed the last brig of its current order, and work must be found or workmen would have to be let go. The repair of the corvette was seized upon as a proper use of the yards’ resources and she was towed upriver.

  Both Flowers and Drummond were allowed time to visit Sarah ashore. She had settled in well with the widow and was as happy as one could expect with her men expected to sail away at any moment.

  On one of his visits ashore, Mister Drummond met a group of dissenters who had formed their own church. When he told the group of the difficulties his daughter was having trying to marry her man, the lay minister of the group volunteered to perform the ceremony.

  It was a simple enough wedding, with everyone clad in their workday clothing and the ceremony was held in the parlor of the widow’s home. Captain Mullins granted Flowers a brief leave to spend time with his new wife.

  Work on the ship continued, wedding or no wedding, and repairs were well in hand when the third officer returned. Mrs. Flowers, was able to take a small cottage for herself from the proceeds her husband received from another of Vigilants’ prizes, which had just been adjudicated. Flowers admitted to his captain one night on the quarterdeck that his father had cut him off from any future financial support after their recent confrontation, so this opportunity to obtain prize money was of great importance to him.

  He felt however, with his pay and the prize money he had already received, he was well able to care for his new wife.

  Extremely busy with getting his ship ready for sea again, Mullins had little time to spend on distractions, but gave his third officer a substantial sum for a wedding present, and the new husband repaid him by doing double duty preparing the ship. Much against her father’s wishes, Sarah managed to inveigle her husband’s captain into allowing her to spend a few days on board in the little time they had remaining. With so much work remaining to be done, Mullins was reluctant to allow this, thinking of the disruption to the ship’s routine, but agreed to the visit to promote the prevailing good feeling he saw among the men.

  Mister Flower’s tiny dog-kennel of a cabin was much too small to house another person but Sarah’s father exchanged cabins temporarily with his son-in-law and the new couple were able to make do in the larger cabin.

  The day arrived when the ship was ready to put to sea. Mrs. Flowers went ashore with a boatload of gifts from the hands. The first officer had his own cabin back again and a beautifully appointed boat from the flag delivered their sailing orders.

  Sir George Montague, the port admiral, was away in London, but the flag captain received Mullins on the flagship’s quarterdeck and went over the orders with him.

  “You will proceed to the Baltic, determine the location of Admiral Lord de Saumarez commanding the fleet there, and place yourself under his orders.” Flag Captain Harrison related. “I will not presume to be current in the recent activities in the Baltic, but doubtless you will be brought up to date when you join the fleet.”

  “The political situation there is most complicated. The Swedish king has been suffering delusions and there is talk that he may be replaced by a regent. The Swedes are under extreme pressure from the French to declare war against us and deny access to any Swedish ports to any of our shipping.”

  “On our own part, it is important that we have access to the naval stores that come through the Baltic. Timber for ship-building, masts and spars. Hemp for rope fiber and of course tar. At this moment, we are at war with Denmark and Russia has also made intolerable demands upon us. Bonaparte imagines he can impose a blockade upon all of our European trade. Admiral Saumarez has been balancing all of these pressures admirably and it is hoped he will continue to be successful.”

  “Despite the French prohibitions, we still maintain a little trade with Sweden. The Swedes wink at this trade as long as it is done in ports that are not strongly defended. Thus far, the Swedes can tell the French they are not able to deny our strong fleet access to these harbors.”

  After learning as much as he could aboard the flag, Mullins returned to Hector where he had Mister Flowers hang out the signal to request permission to sail. This was granted momentarily, and Hector slipped her mooring and cautiously made her way out with her headsails.

  Once out in the Channel, heavy weather hindered her sightings of any enemy shipping, but Hector was able to have several sessions of gunnery practice. One such occurred when the masthead reported a wreck off the starboard bow. This was an apparent victim of a recent squall line that had recently passed and the wrecked vessel was lying almost on her beam ends, the furious waves washing over her. She appeared to be abandoned, but Mullins ordered a gun fired to alert anyone that might still be aboard.

  At the sound of the shot, a figure lashed to the stump of the foremast waved vigorously. Mister Flowers immediately volunteered to take the launch and attempt to bring away the survivor. Mullins hated to risk any of his people but a growing number of seamen had come forward, expressing their willingness to take part in the rescue attempt.

  The boat was lowered into the sea to leeward but the heavy seas were still a trial to the boat crew. The bosun had lashed some empty kegs inside the launch to offer her a little more flotation and the boat, although half filled, was able to make it over to the wreck. There was a difficulty when the nearly frozen survivor was unable to undo the bonds holding him onto the nearly vertical deck.

  After a conference aboard the launch, Isaac Hardrace, a seaman in the boat’s crew, was able to seize a line from the wreck and pull himself up its deck. He cut the victim loose, but the man, unable to restrain himself, fell straight into the sea. He would have certainly been lost except the boat’s bowman had his boathook to hand, and immediately plunged it blindly into the sea. By some fluke, the hook was snagged into the man’s clothing, and he was pulled into the boat, more dead than alive.

  The sea had become more violent during this exercise, and once all of the boat crew had come aboard along with the victim, Mullins ordered the launch cut away. He felt it was not worth the effort and possible damage getting it back onto Hector’s pitching and rolling deck. The boat crew was ordered below to the relative warmth of the berth deck and a ration of grog ordered for them.

  The rescued man, now unconscious, was delivered to the care of the doctor. While he remained incommunicado, Mullins ordered Hector to put about and deliver a broadside into the wreck. The thundering crashes put an end to the wreck’s troubles and it slid below the waves.

  Back on course now up the European coastline, they were off the Low Countries when word was passed the survivor was now awake. Mullins immediately went below to see what could be learned from the man. He was roaring drunk, from all of the rum that had been poured down his throat, and he was some kind of foreigner, a Fleming, the
doctor thought.

  Unable to speak or understand English, the survivor could be understood by one of the foremast hands, who was some variety of German. It seemed their rescue was a seaman out of Zeebrugge, on an unweatherly old brig.

  Shortly after the brig left port, while encountering a stiff blow, the cargo below shifted, putting the brig on her side. The master had all hatches closed and battened, but one after another of the hands were washed overboard until only the single survivor was left.

  Mullins asked the doctor to refrain from administering more rum to this survivor and to have him sent to his berth once he was moderately sober.

  Hours later, he heard his Marine sentry discussing with someone whether admittance should be granted to the captain’s quarters. Calling “Come in!”, Mullins had seated himself behind his desk when the rescued seaman came in. With him was Johan Schuster, one of Hector’s foremast hands. Schuster introduced his companion; Abram Pieter, a seaman on the former Julie Marie brig.

  Mullins attempted to determine if Pieter had any knowledge of military or naval matters that might be of interest. Pieter professed no such knowledge and Mullins believed him. When Pieter was told that he had a choice, he could sign on aboard HMS Hector, or he could be confined as a prisoner of war and be sent to the infamous prison hulks, he enthusiastically signed the ships’ books as an able seaman.

  Pieter might have been an uneducated seaman, but he had heard of those hulks and wished no part of them. His interpreter assured Captain Mullins that Pieter would gladly serve King George in his Royal Navy.

  Mullins was pleased with the outcome. This Fleming appeared to be a good seaman and once he had learned a little English, he would probably be a valuable hand. Such hands did not grow on trees and one sent to the hulks would be a terrible waste.

  Chapter Five

  HMS Hector had come up to the Skaw, the very northern tip of Denmark’s Jutland peninsula. Rounding this headland, she entered the Skagerrak, the entrance to the Baltic. One must pay attention to navigation here, with plenty of shallows to bring a ship to grief.

  Now in the Kattegat, it was necessary to be aware of one’s surroundings. Of course, all Danish territory must be avoided. Batteries were numerous and their gunners were not at all shy of firing their deadly salutes to intruding ships of the Royal Navy.

  Sweden could not be taken for granted. Mullins had had no word of the local situation since he had left Britain and for all he knew, his frigate might well be fired upon from any Swedish battery.

  To get into the Baltic, he must get past Danish Copenhagen, hopefully out of range of its numerous batteries. The problem was, the nearby Danish town of Helsinger was separated from Swedish Helsingborg by a very narrow strait, only a few miles wide. This strait was the Øresund. He had no pilot familiar with these waters and could not be sure of Swedish intentions.

  He had molested no shipping in the approaches to the Baltic and hoped no unfriendly reports had reached Swedish gun batteries. Nevertheless, it was necessary to make the best of his way past the gun emplacements of both nations.

  With his ship cleared for action, Mullins gave the orders for Hector to begin her approach in the early morning dawn. He held as close to the Swedish shore as he dared and the batteries there remained silent. Not so those on the Danish side. They began their thunder as soon as the frigate came within range. At first, there was hope she might make her way past the danger untouched, but just opposite Helsinger, a ball from a shore battery fractured the fore topmast. Canvas was hurriedly stripped from that topmast and the fore course was set. Mullins did not bother to open fire, and moments later, the battery, now left behind, ceased fire. Soon, the strait widened and they were in the Baltic.

  Small craft of all types were all about here, seeming to have no fear of the frigate, lying hove-to while repairing the injured fore topmast. Once the spar was ‘fished’ with lengths of oaken two by fours bound tightly to it, Hector continued on her way, ignoring the local traffic. Nearly out of sight of land, she was approached by a cutter, flying British colors.

  This proved to be Vixen, commanded by Lieutenant Hargrove. Mullins signaled her captain to come aboard and spent an hour in his quarters with the officer, discussing the local politics. Hargrove reported that Admiral Saumarez was presently in HMS Victory at Gothenburg, but was expected to take the fleet to Britain for the winter, as soon as the ice became too treacherous. The frigate, HMS Blonde, Captain Harris, was also reported to presently be in the Gulf of Finland, but would later retire to the Baltic until ice conditions became too severe. Eventually, she too, must leave the Baltic and make her way out to the North Sea.

  Hargrove had orders to remain as long as feasible, but then he was to set course for home. Mullins was confused about the decision he must soon make. Of course, his orders bade him to report to Admiral Saumarez’ flag. That flag, however, was reportedly at Gothenburg, located on the Swedish coast on the Kattegat. Hector had recently run the gauntlet of enemy fire to reach his present position in the Baltic.

  This place looked as if it might be a profitable locale for a cruise. Was he to abandon it to follow Saumarez back to a winter anchorage in Britain? If he was to attempt to make Gothenburg, the previous efforts would have been made in vain. Before Hargrove took his leave, Mullins called in Smithers, an un frocked priest serving as his clerk. The former cleric had an astonishing memory, and could memorize anything put to him verbally and within a few minutes deliver a perfectly written document.

  During the conference between Mullins and Hargrove, the boat’s crew from Vixen had been entertained by the off-duty watch in the foc’s’le and were now a bit unsteady when the call came for them to man their boat.

  As they tumbled down into the boat, Smithers handed Mullins the letter he had drafted. The letter, addressed to the Admiral Lord de Saumarez, reported his arrival in the Baltic and mentioned the repairs made to the ship following the bombardment by the Danes. Stating unless he received contrary orders, he intended to remain in the Baltic while the weather would permit.

  After Mullins approved the document, the former cleric melted some wax over the binnacle lamp and sealed the letter. Hargrove was going to touch at Helsingborg to pick up mail and he would place this letter in the Swedish post. Assuming Saumarez had not yet sailed, he would have this letter in a very few days. Of course, the chances of Mullins receiving an answer were slim. He had no intention of sailing into any Swedish port until he was sure his ship would not be interned.

  After leaving Vixen, HMS Hector sailed on into the Baltic. Of course, Captain Mullins had repeatedly been advised the Baltic trade was all-important to Britain and must not be jeopardized by thoughtless actions. Vessels of French or allied country registry would however be liable for seizure without any valid complaint. With the departure of much of Admiral Saumarez’ fleet, there ought to be plenty of such potential prizes available. Getting any prize to a proper prize court would be the problem. If this was not feasible, Mullins was perfectly prepared to burn any vessel taken.

  Their first prize taken in the Baltic appeared a few days after leaving Vixen behind. It had been a dark night, with heavy cloud cover, rain and fog. In these conditions, there was little point in having men aloft, but hands stood lookout duty on deck. At this point, Mullins had little idea of his exact position but thought he might be nearing the Aland Islands. The ship was ghosting along in the light airs when one of the lookouts up forward whispered to the midshipman of the watch, who was walking by.

  Mullins, on deck also, saw this and went forward to see what had alerted the lookout. Not a glimmer could be seen, but the lookout swore he had heard a gun fire off in the distance. “Not a big gun, sir. More like a musket, but a long way off.”

  This was logical. Many merchant ships, engulfed in fog such as they had here, would occasionally fire off a musket or ring a bell to warn other ships of their presence. In this fog though, it was difficult to determine the location of the sound. With everyone alert to the possibilit
y of another ship being in nearby waters, Hector continued on, barely making steerage way in the light winds.

  As the eastern sky began to lighten in the false dawn, another lookout, this one watching on the port beam hissed. Lieutenant Persons, who had the deck, hurried over, then reported to Mullins. “Sir, Jones saw something on our port beam. I saw it myself, and think it might be a small vessel.”

  “Very well, Mister Persons. We will bring the ship to quarters as silently as may be. If you could see her in this fog, she must be close indeed. Perhaps we may surprise her at first light with our guns run out and trained on her. Of course, we must determine whether she is a legitimate prize before we could fire on her.”

  It was only a few minutes before conditions became more clear. Suddenly a schooner, riding low in the seas, was visible only a long musket shot distant. For minutes, she made no notice of her companion until Mullins ordered a gun fired well ahead of the vessel.

  At the sound of the gun, men poured out onto the schooner’s deck and an elderly man wearing a blue coat, presumably the master, appeared on deck. Picking up a speaking trumpet, this gentleman shouted something in French. Mullins had learned some French as a youngster, but had forgotten much of what he had learned. This seaman’s dialect was completely undecipherable to him. He pointed to his own ship’s colors then at one of his eighteen-pounder long guns.

  The schooner’s master shrugged and seconds later, the tricolor rose to the peak, remained there momentarily, then was pulled down to the deck.