HMS Athena: A Charles Mullins novel (Sea Command Book 4)

by Richard Testrake

  Fortunately, the enemy commander had no incentive to fight to the death and after seeing which way the fighting was going, took off his white shirt and waved it on the tip of his sword. It took some time before all of the gunners were convinced the fighting was over, then the carnage stopped.

  Two predators remained, both small fishing type vessels each armed with a pair of small guns and a crew. While Athena was involved with the privateer brig, the pair had moved up the convoy and concentrated upon a brigantine with a cargo of rum. Asp, finished with her own battle with the schooner, warded off the attack, firing her broadside at close range, her small guns loaded with double charges of musket balls.

  The attackers took this opportunity to leave, blood running from scuppers, and crew repairing damaged rigging.

  Mullins was left in command of the scene, with both a damaged prize as well as the brigantine merchant which urgently needed repairs. Hands from Athena were sent over to the damaged convoy member to lend their skills. Three of the brigantine’s hands had been killed or severely wounded in the action, and since the vessel had been very minimally manned to begin with, it was necessary to give her a few hands in order for her to make port.

  The brigantine’s main yard had been cracked when the enemy brig came alongside, so that was cause for concern. With no spare on the vessel, fishing the cracked spar was considered, until Athena’s bosun noticed a spar of suitable size on the captured brig.

  After that spar and other useful equipment was removed, the enemy’s powder magazine was emptied, the powder portioned out between Asp and Athena. With repairs well along, the prize, now freed from the brigantine, was let drift away, a length of slow match burning along her deck. Quantities of galley slush as well a quantity of tar were spread judiciously below decks. The slow match led to a pair of blue lights in the midst of the inflammable material. A charge of gunpowder with the incendiary devices, ignited by the burning slow match, would initiate the combustion sequence. The lights consisted of wooden containers packed with combustible chemicals. The intense flame from the burning blue lights would ignite the inflammables. It should take only minutes until the whole ship was engulfed in flame.

  After interrogating members of the enemy crew, it was determined its captain or owners had not bothered obtaining a letter of marque. Instead, a ship-owner, frustrated by his merchant ship’s inability to sail profitably in this wartime climate, simply armed her, recruited a number of unemployed seamen from about the port, and went to war.

  A letter of marque required his posting bond to his government. The owner decided this formality was really not necessary, since his ship would be only cruising close to his home port, attacking only weakly defending ships. It was not intended for his ship to become involved in action with any naval warships. Any prizes taken would be immediately be taken into port, where cargo would be removed and the ship itself be sold to other interests.

  The person appointed captain had other ideas, however. Since it was difficult for a single rover to locate and take a single, unprotected merchant, he decided to team up with some friends and attack larger prey.

  This might involve action with a naval escort, but it was thought several of the private ships could hold the escort at bay, while the others could cut out the more profitable-looking prizes.

  This plan could have worked, had the individual rovers had some sense of discipline, but when confronted by a plethora of rich prizes or by a deadly defender of the flock, all ideas of cooperation vanished. In the recent case, when confronted by two determined escorts, the pirates determined it was every man for himself.

  Now though, it was time to decide what must be done with the captives. Without a valid letter-of-marque, the prisoners must be considered pirates, which might well be equivalent to a death sentence.

  The captain of the pirate attempted to put the best face on matters, explaining there had just not been the time to arrange a proper license before sailing and anyway, it was just a matter of formality in any case.

  Mullins would not argue with the man, ordering him below to be put in irons with the rest of the prisoners. It soon became apparent there was insufficient space on Athena and Asp to safely keep all of the prisoners, so some had to be parceled out among the merchantmen.

  Deciding it would be imprudent to sail across the Atlantic with all of these prisoners on their ships, Mullins decided to make port in Halifax, where the former pirates could be landed. Some of the individual merchant captains were outraged at the delay this would cause, but after Mullins instead offered to assign each merchant captain an extra twenty prisoners to guard, most thought better of their objection.

  The convoy resumed it course, following the stream up the coast of the United States. Along the way, there was a single alarm. One of the convoy vessels, a ship with a cargo of sugar and cochineal, was sighted at daylight sailing toward the Georgia coastline. Asp was sent after her, and after firing some shots, brought her to.

  A dozen pirates confined below, had somehow escaped their bonds and took over the ship, hoping to go ashore in coastal America. When Asp put herself across the ship’s hawse and opened fire, the pirates had no choice but surrender. Many of the merchant’s crew were still at large, and most of the pirates, originally signed on as boarders, had little idea on how to sail the ship.

  The ship had a few guns, but the pirates had not enough hands to handle the ship and man the ship’s guns, too. The individual members of the merchant’s crew hampered the pirates as best they could and when Asp began pounding away with her four-pounders, enough of the pirates ran below to hide allowing the remainder of the original crew to secure the pirates.

  Athena’s armorer set up his forge on deck and began shaping strap iron into crude manacles. These were hastily made items, not intended for comfort, each being a roughly shaped pair of irons, riveted together over the culprits’ wrists. Each prisoner was required to crouch over an anvil, his wrists positioned over a previously prepared set of irons. The armorer did a quick inspection to insure the felon would not be able to free himself later. When satisfied, he withdrew a red-hot rivet from his forge and inserted it into matching holes punched into the manacles.

  To the cries of the victim, protesting the rapidly spreading heat from the rivet, the armorer then pounded the end of the rivet against the anvil, flattening it so that it would not be easily withdrawn. Normally, the prisoner was allowed to plunge his manacles into a tub of seawater to quench the heat. One decided he was not going to put up with these indignities and tried to strike the armorer with his clenched fists.

  A pair of burly bosun’s’ mates, prepared for this problem, seized the man and held him to the anvil while the armorer did his job. This one was not offered the cooling water to quench the searing heat, and went cursing and shouting to his space below.

  Over the course of the voyage north to Halifax, there would be plenty of reason for the victims to rue their decision to become pirates. Day after day, the convoy rode the Stream, ever northward. Although the prisoners, confined and not doing any work about the ship, were on reduced rations, still when they entered the port of Halifax, the ships of the convoy had little remaining of their stores to feed the hands. Fresh water especially, had been closely rationed for the past week of the voyage, and now was badly needed. When the new supply was pumped aboard, all hands, including prisoners, were allowed to drink their fill.

  Captain Mullins went ashore to make his manners with the port captain and to explain their delivering several hundred prisoners to local custody. There was little difficulty, Mullins had already brought similar prisoners to this port before. He was assured these would be handed over to the military authorities and would doubtless meet justice in a matter of days.

  Once the prisoners were landed and fresh stores brought aboard, there was little to keep the convoy at anchor. The individual ship masters were anxious to complete their voyage before the next convoy arrived. Normally, the early arrivals secured the best prices for
their goods.

  Going ashore prior to leaving, Mullins learned an elderly sixty-four gun third rate, coming up from Bermuda, would also join their convoy. Her captain, being higher on the captain’s list than Mullins, would therefore assume command of the escort.

  After meeting Captain Holmes at a reception ashore, Mullins had no qualms. Holmes seemed to be a capable enough man, as well as personable. He had no regrets that he must turn over the command of this convoy to another.

  HMS Argonaut, with her imposing battery, would provide firepower if the convoy met up with a powerful enemy on the way home. A fast ship, she could also assist in running down any enemy, especially in heavy seas, where her tall masts could catch the upper winds and her deep hull could break through the seas better than many a smaller ship.

  One difficulty was explained to Mullins. An elderly ship, she had served in the Caribbean rather longer than was wise. Her copper was nearly worn away and, although breamed before leaving, her bottom was much eaten by worm. Too, some of her timbers below decks were infected badly with rot. The dockyard supervisor in Halifax explained to Mullins over a drink, that he doubted she would ever go to sea again, after reaching home. This would be a blow to Captain Holmes, who had just assumed command of the third-rate only a few months before.

  The convoy set out bravely enough, with the imposing Argonaut leading the way, stationing herself to windward ahead. Athena patrolled to windward along the middle of the convoy while Asp brought up the rear, as usual. Mullins had expected to be left alone while Holmes controlled the convoy, but by the end of the day, after showing that he did indeed know what he was about, Captain Holmes turned over the normal functioning of the convoy to Mullins.

  By this time, Mullins had about had his fill of convoy duty. There was always a merchant master who had lost his signal book, or whose sole signalman was below, taking a caulk, with nobody available to read or reply to signals.

  Well up the North American coast, the crew was making preparations for going into harbor. Every man was doing his best to improve the appearance of his shore-going togs. The bosun had his people go over the captain’s gig, so that it would make an impressive appearance when their captain called upon the admiral’s flagship.

  This was the moment when the maintop lookout called down, “Sail off the starboard bow, hull down, coming toward us.”

  Mister Gregor, with his young eyes, was sent up to the main crosstrees with a glass to see what he could make of the sighting.

  After some delay, the lad called down that he saw three ship-rigged vessels coming toward them. One, he was sure, was a third-rate. Another might be a frigate, while the third, trailing farther back, could be anything.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Pierre Martel, commanding the French National ship-of-the line Jemmapes, received the news of the approaching convoy with seeming equanimity, but was privately concerned. Jemmapes was part of the fleet Admiral Lesègues had brought out from France. Separated from the rest during a storm in mid-Atlantic, her captain searched for the remainder of the fleet for days until forced by deteriorating conditions aboard ship to sail for Hispaniola.

  There, he learned that Admiral Lesègues had been defeated by Admiral Duckworth in a battle off Santo Domingo with most of the fleet captured or destroyed. With the seventy-four-gun liner in poor condition, her captain was forced to take refuge in the harbor until repairs could be made.

  Rumors of the cause of the ship’s late arrival abounded, and eventually the captain and first officer were brought up on charges of cowardice, in that they failed to bring her in to port in a timely manner, where her presence may have made a more favorable contribution to the battle.

  Both officers were convicted and paid with their lives. The second officer absconded, fearing a similar fate and command of the liner devolved to the third officer, Monsieur Martel, a young man only recently given his commission.

  Martel did not regard his elevation with any great enthusiasm. Much of the crew had been drafted away, to help the army combat the slave revolt that was paralyzing the island, while many of those remaining were dying of fever. After months of watching ship and men rot away in port, he was suddenly ordered to put to sea with two frigates in similar condition to Jemmapes and return to France.

  Given all the slaves he could use, he did put the ship into some semblance of order, but the problem of a crew remained. Those hands sent away with the army were now either dead or so wasted with disease they were useless.

  In desperation, he enlisted the aid of the Army to round up every man on the waterfront that appeared able to stand up and walk. Hundreds of men were rounded up and forcibly loaded on the ship, including, not a few slaves, released from their pens for the occasion. It was a desperately crippled warship that slipped her moorings and made her way out to sea.

  Accompanied by the two frigates she loitered off the coast for days while her officers desperately tried to train the crew. Martel knew it was madness to take ships in as poor condition as these across the Atlantic, but he could not see any other course. If he returned to port, he could expect to meet the same fate as the captain before him.

  The thought of sailing into a British harbor and surrendering his fleet occurred to him, but he knew many of the remaining veterans were loyal Frenchmen who would likely rise in revolt at any such action.

  The only option, he decided, was to follow his orders and attempt to train his people as seamen. Sail drill occurred at every opportunity. Gun drill was hampered when it was discovered that much of the powder loaded before sailing was damaged by damp. His gunnery officer advised him it was necessary to conserve their small amount of dry powder to use for any engagement.

  The sighting of the convoy with its three escorts did present an opportunity. He recognized the line-of-battleship to be an elderly sixty-four. Another escort seemed to be a former corvette taken from the Revolutionary Navy some years before. The remaining escort was a slightly-built cutter, of no importance at all. Even in light of his fleet’s poor condition, surely he could defeat these British warships, hopefully taking a few prizes as well.

  Captain Martel was certain Jemmapes, with the assistance of one of his frigates, could take the old sixty-four, while the other frigate could savage that former corvette. Doubtless the British would leave the cutter to see to the convoy. She could be gathered up after the main battle was over.

  Signaling, “Form Line of Battle”, the fleet altered course in line-ahead formation, with Jemmapes leading, then came Regulus followed by Revanche.

  Mullins watched the approach of the French fleet with quiet alarm. As the French ships closed, it became apparent the two trailing warships were frigates, probably thirty-twos. The British public would complain severely if the convoy escort was defeated. He thought Argonaut might just be able to hold her own against the French liner, but how could his little post-ship be expected to prevail over two big thirty-two gun, twelve-pounder frigates. One thing was certain, he must keep the fight going as long as he possibly could. If Athena was put out of action early on, both of those frigates would join the French third-rate in its action against Argonaut.

  Captain Holmes was not one to dither. He did not bother to hoist ‘Form Line of Battle’. That would seem ridiculous, with only two warships. Instead he directed the cutter to remain with the convoy and signaled Athena ‘Engage the Enemy More Closely’.

  While Argonaut headed straight toward the leading liner, Athena followed close behind, hoping to survive the enemy flagship’s broadsides long enough to be able to reach one of the frigates. Then, he thought, Athena would probably be pounded into matchwood.

  Following Argonaut closely, he watched as she neared the big liner coming up on the British battleship’s starboard beam. Long before the two met, the French ship began to fire its guns haphazardly, many of them before they bore on their target. Disdainfully, the British battleship held her fire, even as a few balls came aboard.

  Looking about his quarterdeck just b
efore initial contact, Mullins noticed Lieutenant Sawyer had his Marines lined up at the bulwarks, their muskets at the ready. Sawyer, instead of his ornate saber, was armed with the backwoods long rifle he had acquired long ago. Curious, Mullins asked about the other five rifles aboard the ship. Sawyer had already explained his men could not seem to be able to use the weapons effectively, but he had trained a few seamen who were competent with the long arms. Unfortunately, these men were all occupied now with other duties about the ship.

  Mullins thought for a few moments then considered. “Mister Sawyer, I fear we are about to get our arses knackered here. The scantlings on this ship will not stop thirty-six pound balls from that liner coming at us. Let us arm the men you have trained with the rifles and perhaps we can knock over an officer or two of theirs before they do us in.”

  Coming abreast now, every gun on Argonaut’s starboard beam fired at close range into her opponent. The near simultaneous broadside caused some serious problems with Argonaut’s timbers, she being much too old to be subjected to such treatment. Her recipient though, had problems of her own to be concerned with. Some of her crew, at first stunned into immobility at the sudden storm of fire and iron that came crashing through the ship’s sides, rushed below deck in an attempt to escape the onslaught.

  With many of the enemy guns not functioning now, some from firing before they bore, others abandoned by their crews, Argonaut sailed by the enemy ship-of-the-line without receiving any important hits.

  Following Argonaut and approaching the now stunned ship himself, Mullins considered he could fire his broadside and still have time to reload before reaching the frigates. He noticed the leading frigate, having seen the destruction dealt out by Argonaut, back her topsails, as if she was trying to delay the inevitable.