Some of the seamen got a gun in the battery manned and ready and Basel explained to the French officer in the boat, he would surely fire if they continued their attempt to escape. Basel was embarrassed at first, after the surrender, since he had more captives than he did men and at first wondered how he was going to contain them all.
Then some exploring seamen found a stone hut hidden behind a rocky spur that held the captive British sailors. The sailors were freed and the French garrison took their places. One French gunner, in exchange for a bottle of wine for himself, divulged the news that a French privateer was expected very soon. Her captain had been paid to gather what information that he could from the area around Lisbon and the mouth of the Lagos River.
With action imminent, Phillips sent Mister Scott ashore with Captain Basel and the remainder of the Royal Marines. He took the ship back to sea and returned two days later. When Resolve sailed by the harbor inlet, there was a neat little armed brig at anchor. She wore the British flag over the Tricolor and all was peaceful.
The signals flown from the flagstaff ashore reported the brig had been taken the previous day. Phillips wanted to go ashore to inspect the capture, but did not wish to leave the ship in the hands of the second officer. Taking Hollingsworth with him, he left Goodyer in charge, knowing the decision could end his career if the ship was harmed in the hands of a midshipman in an acting lieutenant’s position.
Captain Basel took him around the garrison, showing off the four French eight pounders. The powder magazine was in a sort of cave excavated into the side of a precipitous ridge. The garrison had been living under canvas, but had erected a stone hut probably to house valuables, but now used to secure prisoners. Clay plastered over the exterior wall of the hut, probably had come from the excavation.
The final visit was to the little brig. She appeared nearly new and was in almost excellent condition. The condition of her rigging though was an anomaly about which Mister Scott complained. He showed her slack shrouds and other standing rigging. Her first officer and bosun must not have understood their jobs.” he complained.
Phillips quipped. “Would you have me turn her over to her old crew with orders to get her in proper condition?”
He could not see a use to the Navy for the battery. Of course, he could take the guns back to Lisbon and turn them over to the insurgents, but the French 8 pounder gun had a slightly different ball than the British and he felt it would be much work for little return.
In the end, he had the gunner’s mate shoot a trunnion from every gun but the last. That one, was packed with extra powder and three balls. With still a little room in the bore, he jammed the final ball in position by wedging French bayonets around it and filling the remainder of the bore with earth pounded tight.
When the gunner’s mate fired that one by a long length of slow match, it made a remarkable explosion, splitting the barrel and blowing out a section of the breach.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Phillips made a hurried examination of the brig. The inlet where the brig was moored was too shallow for Resolve to venture in and he did not want to sail the prize out to sea until he had some idea of how to man her. Over fifty British seamen had been held captive on the island. All were badly nourished and a few had been severely wounded.
Doctor Harrison had been brought ashore to look at the recovered prisoners. He had recovered remarkably from his bouts with the bottle. Early on, his captain had confiscated the doctor’s supply of brandy, putting it in his own steward’s hands, to be issued out gradually.
That had not worked well. His steward, it seemed, also had a liking for fine brandy and the stock had seemingly evaporated. Feeling obligated to replace the liquor, Phillips had tried to find a similar quality, but it seemed to be French in origin and the only source must come from captured stock.
He managed to locate a captain who had taken a prize laden with fine French wines and was able to purchase some at a usurious price. The doctor was satisfied with the exchange, but wondered what punishment the servant would receive.
Phillips told him the Royal Navy took a harsh view of theft in any form. He told Harrison the man, if found guilty at a court martial, could well be hung. The captain wondered if the doctor had any views as to his punishment.
“Oh, why don’t you do to him as you did to me? Limit his intake of alcohol to a fraction of what he was receiving before.”
A dozen of the new hands were pronounced fit enough for normal shipboard activities immediately. Most of the others would be ready within a week or two. A few would never be fit enough for shipboard work and must be discharged.
On his examination of the new men’s status, he discovered four who had been mates aboard their traders and were able to navigate. All of these men were offered positions as master’s mates. Three accepted and were entered as such on the ship’s books as of the next day. The fourth declined and was pressed as an able seaman.
After giving some thought to the matter, he called his son into the great cabin and put a question to him. “Mister Phillips, do you think you could handle that prize brig and sail her back to Lisbon?”
“Yes sir, I believe I can. But I thought I had lost my acting lieutenant’s position?”
“You have indeed, Mister Phillips. Since I have a full list of lieutenants aboard, you would not be able to get another acting commission until one of them leaves us.”
“However, I can appoint master’s mates and they are permitted to command ships under certain circumstances, in this case, commanding a prize. Do you want to give it a try?”
*****
Resolve and her prize, Droits du Citoyen, caught the prevailing westerly and sailed south a safe distance from the coast. Master’s mate Phillips commanded the brig and had two of the new master’s mates aboard as deck officers. Most of the crew were from Resolve, since it was felt young Phillips was known by these men and fewer problems might arise. He did have enough people to sail the brig and man the guns on one side.
There were fourteen of the eight pounders. His broadside was pitifully small compared to that of Resolve, but young Phillips decided to make the most of what he had. The former French owners had stocked the brig well for a long cruise and she had a large quantity of powder and shot aboard. Much of the powder was still in the barrel and one of the captain’s first duties was to appoint a gunner.
One of the hands; Able Seaman Ripley, a gun captain aboard Resolve, was appointed as the brig’s gunner. Mister Phillips ordered cartridges be made up so the ship could be prepared for action immediately, if the occasion should arise.
The other seamen were put to work on the rigging, tightening the standing rigging first, then applying slush from the barrel of old fat skimmings from the cooking kettle in the galley. This rancid fat would help preserve the cordage.
While the men were occupied, Mister Phillips sat with his subordinate master’s mates in the miniscule cabin and worked on the watch and station bill. Every man had to be assigned a job under varying circumstances, whether the brig was winning her anchor, or firing broadsides at an enemy.
After the mates had left the cabin, Phillips worked on his Captain’s Order book. His father had told him of the necessity of each watch having a copy to remind themselves what their captain’s wishes and orders might be under certain circumstances. Every likely circumstance that might arise, must be considered and appropriate actions must be recorded. Young Phillips had cribbed infamously from his father’s version, but told himself he would make changes later, as he saw fit.
When the lookout reported an object in the water on the port bow, Phillips had the brig cleared for action. One of the hands had found a French bugle ashore, belonging to one of the enemy garrison members from the destroyed battery. With advice from his mates, he was able sometimes to make a strangled bleat from it, so he was deputized as the ship’s bugler in lieu of a drummer.
To his frantic noises, the hands began tearing down the various partitions in the brig and strik
ing below anything that might be reduced to splinters by an enemy shot.
The crew was not yet used to this strange brig and were not nearly finished when they came abreast of the wreckage of a fishing boat, now mostly submerged. Sent to the guns, the gun crews opened fire as the brig bore down on the wreckage. Each gun opened fire as its gun captain imagined his gun was on target. One after another, the guns blasted until all seven on that side had fired. Only two balls struck anywhere near the target. Left to himself, young Phillips would have put the brig about and tried the starboard guns.
However, the Resolute maintained her steady pace and Phillips knew he must maintain his formation. To make things certain, a flag signal was hauled up on Resolve. Long serving as a signal officer, Phillips recognized it by sight as “Discontinue the action.”
Towards evening, Resolve hoisted the signal signaling, “Form Line Astern.”
As soon as ‘Droits du Citoyen’ acknowledged, the frigate signaled ‘enemy in sight’.
Phillips snatched a telescope from the binnacle rack and raced up the mainmast. He was not as high as the lookout aboard Resolve, but could just make out topsails coming over the horizon. Handing the glass to the lookout. Phillips warned, “Don’t drop this and keep an eye open for other sail. This one may have company.”
Young Phillips had just gained the quarterdeck, when the lookout reported another sail in sight. Ordering a signal be sent to Resolve to that effect, Phillips gave some thought to what he must do now. The brig was still at action stations, so that was well. He sent a messenger around to the other master’s mates acquainting them to the potential of actual action. Then he sent the same messenger below to the gunner, cooped up in the brig’s magazine. He wanted the gunner to know there might be a real use for the cartridges he was filling.
Now he began going down the line of guns, speaking to each crew. He reminded them they had done well with the guns on Resolve and there was no reason they could not do as well or better on the brig.
Mister Beamus, the master’s mate of the watch, handed him his glass. “That little ‘un behind is swinging out to starboard. Looks like a schooner.” Phillips steadied himself against the mast and caught the speck in his glass.
“You’re right about that. Schooner she is. We should have no trouble taking her.”
The ‘Droits’ had been built as a warship. Her framing was much heavier and designed to resist the enemy shot. Most schooners were built as merchant vessels, with lighter and cheaper framing. She probably did not carry heavy guns, either.
The leading ship, however was a different story. As she closed, it became obvious that she was a heavy frigate, perhaps bigger and more powerful than Resolve. Phillips knew his father would go after that frigate, then look at the smaller vessel. Timothy decided, unless ordered otherwise, he would knock out the schooner as soon as possible, then assist Resolve as best he could.
Some of the gun captains had their crews banging the guns in and out, practicing their gun drill, trying to perfect a rhythm. Young Phillips ordered the rest of the crews do likewise, then, as a change of pace, had them practice running across the deck to practice firing the guns there.
The schooner, now seen flying a tricolor, had swung wide around the frigate and was coming straight at ‘Droits’. As it passed Resolve, smoke blossomed from Resolve’s ports as she fired at long range, hoping to get a crippling shot in. Deciding it would be better for the men to go into combat well rested, he ordered his gun crews to sit down on the deck. The minutes passed by, as the ships neared each other.
The schooner was well out to Droits starboard as she came on. Her guns run out looked much smaller than Droits’ 8 pounders. Did the French have 4 pounder guns?
Phillips made one more walk down the line of guns. “Remember men, a shot that goes in the water may as well as not have been fired at all. We need good, solid hits to knock Mister Frenchman out.”
The gun captain on the forward starboard gun, cleared his throat. “Sir, maybe we could hit her, now.”
Phillips answered, “If you think you can hit her, then fire.”
Two guns crashed out, the two most forward guns. One ball raised a spout short of the schooner. The other though, was a solid hit. “A guinea to that gun crew” Phillips shouted. Another gun fired, then two more. Another solid hit, then another. The schooner touched off her broadside. Not a shot came aboard ‘Droits’. Soon the pair were going at each other.
Droits gunners were loading and firing like automatons. Firing at long range, they were hitting their target about half the time. The schooner’s guns were smaller, with less range and so far not a shot had come aboard. The schooner was using her speed to pull slightly ahead and edge slightly closer as well.
Now both ships were hitting. A ball came aboard ‘Droits’ and just hit the outside of the mainmast. It continued on across the deck and hit an unmanned gun on the opposite side, knocking off one of the trucks of its carriage. Its crew drew the gun right up against the bulwark and lashed it down firmly. Guns were crashing away at an almost impossible tempo.
With the range steadily decreasing, fewer shots were missing. The schooner, her starboard beam smashed to splinters, began a turn to starboard, in an attempt to cross ‘Droits’ bow, but Phillips had been watching for this and Droits du Citoyen came around herself. More hits aboard the schooner and a gun was out. On the next broadside, the schooner’s mainmast fell in a tangle of tackle and another gun was struck square on the muzzle, sending the spinning gun barrel across the deck, smashing a half dozen men. Her flag came down then.
With time to think, young Phillips looked at the other combatants. Both frigates were pounding each other un-mercifully. Resolve’s opponent was one of the big forty gun French frigates, although armed mostly with twelve pounder guns.
Droits port side had been loaded, after the last broadside and that is the beam she presented to the big frigate as she sailed past her stern. Her nameboard proclaimed her name to be ‘Sauvage’ and savage she indeed looked as she hammered away at Resolve. Droit’s port broadside crashed into Sauvage’s stern as she sailed past. Sailing back, she fired her starboard battery. Sauvage tried to come around to swat this pest away, but Resolve came around with her. Droit got on her enemy’s quarter with her sails trimmed so she seemed to be parked there, thundering her volleys of eight pound shot down the hull of the frigate that was unable to respond.
Men aboard the enemy were going down in bloody ruin, at the same time her fabric was disintegrating. As the foremast of the frigate fell, both Phillips’ saw the topsails of the British fleet that had been watching the Tagus’ mouth come over the horizon. The French frigate, unable to maneuver because of a jammed rudder and her forward guns unable to fire because of the sailcloth covering them, surrendered.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Every man jack aboard both Resolve and Droits du Citoyen set to work. With four ships needing urgent repairs, no unwounded man had cause to rest. As the fleet came near, boats from every ship brought seamen and ship’s doctors. The flag sent over its Marines to help secure the prisoners.
Phillips senior was below in the bowels of Resolve listening to the carpenter as he explained how he was going to patch an embarrassing shot hole right up in the bow. Just then, word was passed that the captain was needed on the quarterdeck.
As he emerged into the night air, he was prepared to blister somebody’s ears for calling him when that person could just as well have come below and explained the problem. Then, he saw the reason. Admiral Cotton was at the entry port being greeted by Mister Scott, who was dressed in his oldest and most tattered uniform coat. The Marine guard was also clad in their slops, having been called away from repairing a damaged gun carriage.
Phillips attempted to apologize to the admiral, but he was having none of it. “I should apologize to you for disturbing you at your work. Curiosity could not keep me away though. Would you tell me about the brig at your stern?”
“Sir Charles, we captured her a f
ew days ago at the island you mentioned. We destroyed the battery and disarmed the garrison. They remain on the island, since we did not have the means to secure them aboard ship. We manned her with British seamen the French had penned up. She captured that schooner you see over by the prize frigate.”
“My, you have been busy, Captain. I know your officers are a little thin on the ground. Tell me how the officer I sent you managed.”
“Well Sir Charles, Mister Hollingsworth is an eager young officer, but at this time he just does not have the skills he needs to be a productive officer in battle. I am sure he is learning and I can foresee the time when he will be able to pull his weight. That time is not quite here yet.”
“But, who commanded the brig, when she took the schooner?”
“That was my son. With no other people aboard I could make prizemaster, I rated him master’s mate and gave him the command.
The admiral looked grave. “Captain Phillips, I do not like nepotism, I never have. Promotion too early in a young man’s career usually ruins that officer. In this case though, I see that I am partly to blame myself. I tried to place my nephew with you when I well knew he was not prepared. With no recourse, I can understand why you gave your boy command of the brig. The fact that he used his command to take another prize speaks well for the lad and those that instructed him.”
“I am tempted to commission Mister Phillips. Others have with less reason. However, I would worry too early a promotion may damage your son, professionally. Therefore, since I can always use a small craft like your brig, I will buy her into the service and retain your son in command as a master’s mate. Unusual, but not unknown. If your son continues to excel, that commission may not be so remote.”
HMS RESOLVE: A John Phillips Novel Page 6