Distant Gunfire

by David O'Neil

  The pirate party were approaching the battery when they halted out of range and two men approached under a white flag. The Ensign Grey rose and stood in an embrasure and called. “Far enough, if you are surrendering just lay your arms down where you are and we will gather them up after we have taken you out of the way.”

  The leader of the two shouted back. “We have come to offer you safe conduct back to your ship, wherever she is?” The Witch appeared at that point swinging into position in the channel. Unbelievingly the leader saw her. As one, the two men dropped to the ground and a volley of musket fire shot above their heads and killed the young man still standing in the embrasure.

  A volley of musket fire from the battery was followed by the heavier, whump of the swivel guns that sent their cargo of musket balls scattering through the bunched pirates in a hail of death. The screams of the dying and wounded caused a panic stricken scramble to retreat back to the security of the tavern.

  The gunner did not hesitate, his carefully preset cannon fired and the charge of canister smashed through the tavern front wall causing the roof to collapse in a shower of branches, leaves and mud brick. The second round finished the demolition, the exploding shell destroying the back wall and scything the leaves from the surrounding trees leaving a dusty bald area where the tavern once stood. The pirates frustrated, howled at the destruction, and Hansen stood up in the battery and with Midshipman Abbot by his side called upon his party of soldiers and sailors who had come with the swivel guns. “Boarders away!” and the soldiers with swords fixed to their muskets and the sailors with their cutlasses advanced on the retreating pirates, their bloodlust high and revenge for their popular murdered officer in mind.

  Captain Dawson took one look. “My God, they’ve gone mad! Mr. Graham, man the boats with all the men that can be spared from the guns. Master gunner, grape shot if you please, target the mob while you can.”

  Robert had two boats in the water and filled with armed men in a few minutes, they rowed for the shore directly, as the ships guns fired, he changed his mind when he saw the effect of the grape shot was having on the pirates ashore. He called to the other boat. “Mr. Callow, take the Black Boar,”

  Callow waved and the boat swerved to come alongside the first pirate ship, Robert came up with the Swan and with the yell, “Boarders away!” He led his men over the bulwarks of the pirate ship, skewering the first man he saw.

  As he anticipated most of the crew were ashore and the skirmish was short and bloody; no quarter offered or given.

  The flag on the Black Boar was hauled down; as her crew were overcome and when Robert turned his attention to the shore he saw Hansen and his party surrounded by dead and dying men, and the remainder of the pirates disappearing into the forest.

  On the Witch the lookout cried, “Sail Ho,” from the maintop, “It’s the Hermione” he added,

  “She‘s being chased.” There was a pause as the lookout studied the distant approaching ship; then concentrated on another sail clearing the horizon “There’s another ship, looks like one of frigates.”

  Captain Dawson heaved a sigh of relief. He called up to the lookout “Can you identify her?”

  “She’s HMS Exeter, sir she was moored in Plymouth after her refit when we sailed.”

  As Dawson confided to Robert afterwards “For a moment I thought that the Hermione was being chased and we had more trouble than we could deal with.”

  The arrival of the 40 gun Exeter, under Captain Walker was a relief; she had been encountered by the Hermione en-route to the Mona Passage. Captain Walker had been only too pleased to divert to the assistance of HMS Witch after an uneventful trans-Atlantic voyage from Falmouth.

  Though the frigate had to anchor offshore the extra men on board were sufficient to take the two prizes back to Kingston permitting HMS Witch to continue her voyage.

  Captain Walker had served in the West Indies earlier in his career and was saddened by the demise of Captain Mace.

  Mace was apparently an ex-naval officer whom he would have like to see hang. His mutinous seizure of HMS Garland, renamed Eagle, and subsequent pirate activity had been a bitter blow to his fellow captains. He was sanguine about the fate of the runaway pirates, “They will not survive long in the jungle, the people only tolerated them when they were powerful and provided extra wealth to the community. Without their ships and with so many dead, they will be seen as victims and treated accordingly.”

  HMS Witch got under way once more two days after the defeat of the pirates. The village had been flattened, the battery dismantled and the guns stored in the hold of the Swan for return to Kingston. HMS Exeter resumed her voyage to Kingston with the two prizes in company.

  For the Witch Lieutenant Worthing and six extra marines were provided by the Exeter to replace the unfortunate Ensign Grey and the other casualties.

  They voyaged onwards to the Virgin Islands and, having inspected St Thomas and Tortola, put into English Harbour in Antigua to water and provision before sailing onward.

  The Dockyard at the harbour was helpful, and they were able to replace cordage rotting in the humid climate. The crew were given some time to enjoy a swim and to relax. It was the encounter with the French frigate that caused some anxiety and it was indirectly the reason that the current cruise had to be completed early.

  ***

  The La Rochelle was a thirty-six gun frigate, but she had been in the tropics for eight years and was in less than ideal condition. Her Captain was suffering from recurring malaria and many of the officers who had come from France in the beginning were now either dead, or transferred to a more salubrious post. With the passing of the last hurricane it had become apparent that La Rochelle would never survive another. Her timbers were working and it was now necessary to pump the bilges every six hours just to keep up with the present leaks.

  Wearily, Captain Maurice Anders wiped his brow with the already wet cloth, and swore that he would leave the service and settle down as his mistress suggested. The only drawback was that if he did that he would need to live with his mistress and, much though he enjoyed her favours, he could not face the idea of having to face her temper for the foreseeable future.

  Better his bitter wife than that. At least she was quiet, having refused to speak to him since she discovered the identity of his mistress. Whilst still contemplating his gloomy future, the report came of the sighting of a sail. “Oh damn,” he thought aloud. “A sail, so what! A sail, everywhere you look in this accursed ocean there are sails, all sorts of sails big ones small ones, squares jibs spankers…” His mental tirade was brought to an abrupt end when the first lieutenant came to the cabin door.

  With a sigh Maurice looked up. “What is it this time, the inter-island schooner from Martinique?”

  “Pardon, patron, I think this time is trouble!”

  Marvelling as always at the man’s ability to garble every message with his Island patois; Maurice asked the question. “Well, what is it this time?”

  Lieutenant Ambrose Charlet was a mulatto from Guadeloupe, and had been recruited from the local customs service to fill a vacancy in the crew of the La Rochelle. After three years he still found it a problem dealing with his captain, whom he admired.

  “Patr…Sir I believe we have a British ship approaching; a warship!”

  Captain Anders looked up sharply at this. “How far, can you tell?”

  “She has just cleared Dominica and is heading for Martinique, I think”

  “I will come on deck and see for myself. Call the hands to clear for action.”

  ***

  HMS Witch had checked and surveyed the ports and inlets of the Guadeloupe islands and was heading for Dominica when the frigate came into view.

  Captain Dawson snapped the telescope closed. “She’s bigger than us, 36-38 guns, I reckon; we could have our hands full!”

  Robert grinned savagely, “French, eh, well we will give her something to think about. Now would be a good time for the Essex to appear, don�
�t you think?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Dawson replied “Just when things start to get interesting, you start thinking of negative things. Alter course 10 degrees starboard, call the men to action stations; stand by, boarders.”

  The beat of the drum was insistent, and the sounds of the crew, the guns being moved and run out made the next few minutes’ pandemonium.

  The comparative quiet that followed was a relief as they stood-to while the sun relentlessly beat down on the drama below.

  “Port guns first” the Captain called, as the French ship approached.

  On La Rochelle the pumps started once more. The guns were run out and one of the gun carriage wheels sank through a soft part of the deck stalling the gun immovably. With much shouting the crew tried without success to move the gun.

  The First Lieutenant was heard, “Leave the gun!” The rest of the gun crews reported ready. The cry “Fire” echoed along the deck, Captain Anders aghast saw the gun captain of the stalled gun from habit, applying the match to the touch hole, His voice rose desperately “Noooooo……” The gun captain looked round but it was too late, the gun fired with the rest and the ball smashed into the bulwark taking the rigging stays for the mainmast and recoiling through the weakened deck to drop onto the men working the pumps below. There were screams and further crashing as the heavy barrel careered through the ’tween decks carrying all before it. The rest of the broadside gave the Witch some trouble but not enough to prevent her own broadside from causing havoc in the French ship.

  Captain Anders knew it was all over, he could feel it in the way the ship staggered with the impact of her own gun, the main mast teetered, the starboard stays flapping unattached, the mast groaned in agony as it swayed with the roll of the ship. Two carronade shells blasted La Rochelle, hitting at almost the same spot as her self-inflicted wound. It was too much. With a final shriek the fore and aft stays broke and the mast fell. The hull split at the point of impact and La Rochelle commenced her last dive to the sea bed. The worn and rotted timbers separated as she tiredly gave herself up to the waters she had proudly commanded for so long.

  Captain Anders clung to the taffrail with tears in his eyes as his world disintegrated around him.

  Lieutenant Charlet grabbed his captain by the collar and hauled him into the boat. Charlet had shown unusual speed and ingenuity cutting the boat loose from its stowage on the main deck. It floated free as the frigate sank and was handy for the rescue of several of the crew, and now the captain.

  The Witch had been damaged by the broadside from La Rochelle, but she stopped and picked up as many of the struggling crew as she could reach, including the boat with Captain Anders and his lieutenant. However there were repairs needed which would require a dockyard. So the Witch set sail for Kingston, leaving her assignment to be completed at a later date.

  The officers and crew enjoyed a certain amount of celebrity following the success she had enjoyed. The prizes were welcomed in the port and scheduled for purchase to supplement the local fleet. The sinking of the frigate that Robert privately felt was actually equivalent to it shooting itself in the foot was also well received. Notwithstanding her condition, she had always been regarded as a threat, and its removal had released shipping from one of its major curbs.

  When HMS Witch had been made seaworthy once more she was ordered to escort a convoy to England. As to her role in the anti-pirate campaign, the recently acquired prizes would assume that task when their refit had been completed.

  The docks at Kingston were able to carry out the repairs the Witch needed, mainly the replacement of a rib timber, smashed partially by one of the French 18 pound cannonballs.

  As William Dawson commented to Robert, when money, especially profits are involved, little is allowed to interfere. The plantations had piled up large stocks of sugar and coffee for shipping, it having been delayed for lack of a ship of sufficient force to escort it. HMS Essex, recently returned from England, could not be spared for a three month absence, and the other ships in station were not deemed suitable.

  The convoy was spread out downwind of HMS Witch as she nodded gently in the light wind three days out from Jamaica, The last of the small islands of the Turks and Caicos group were just disappearing from sight from the deck. For the first time since they had sailed there was no land in sight, and the kindly weather had encouraged a festive atmosphere among the eighteen ships of the convoy and the three escorts, The Black Boar, renamed HMS Surrey after the Jamaican Province, was up wind on the far side of the convoy and the HMS Fleetwood, a cutter was ahead of the ships, ready to give warning of any danger in their path.

  As the winds decreased the convoy was reduced to drifting aimlessly and this gave the opportunity for communications between ships to be simplified, invitations were issued and social activities arranged.

  It was with some amusement that Robert remarked to his junior, “I presume young Williams will be calling on his lady friend Miss Watson, while we are becalmed?”

  Archer replied with a chuckle, “Oh I don’t think so. It seems she has found another beau while we were chasing pirates. When we returned young Williams was no longer her preoccupation, it was one of the new Subalterns who sailed out with us who had taken over, closely followed by another plantation owner’s son, who it turns out had been engaged to the girl for the past year.”

  Both were careful to avoid the subject when Williams was around, however the Captain was unaware of the situation, and he commented that Williams had not been invited to the gathering on the Elephant, the ship owned by Watson himself, who was sailing with his family in the convoy. He was hastily advised by Robert of the situation, “Wondered why he has been looking so gloomy” he observed, “Normally a good humoured lad, too.”

  The captain and Robert made the trip to the Elephant, though Robert returned after a short while to allow Archer to enjoy the party.

  Chapter five

  As the flirt of wind caught the sails of HMS Witch she heeled sharply, the wind dropped and then came again. The other ships were still becalmed, but as the fluky wind caught the Witch once more, a cry from the masthead “Sail Ho, ahead to starboard, coming towards.”

  “Can you make out what she is? Or what flag?”

  “Reckon she’s a frigate, sir, can’t see too well.”

  “Williams, take the glass; up with you.”

  Williams ran up the rigging carrying the telescope carefully. HMS Witch was scudding along to interpose herself between the stranger and the convoy.

  “Abbot, signal the Elephant. Sail is in sight. I am carrying the wind.” The convoy was still becalmed and Robert did not dare heave-to in case he lost the wind.

  “From the Elephant, Sir, Carry on and intercept. Good luck!”

  Robert swung his own glass and saw his Captain wave from the deck of the Elephant.

  The ship approached within range of the William’s telescope and he identified it as an enemy immediately. The Tricolour was visible standing out from the rigging as the ship moved nearer the wind steady. At this point Robert realised that the Frenchman was being driven by a wind at variance with that driving the Witch. He called for a reduction in sail and brought the ship round to intercept from the Frenchman’s port side. “Clear for action, starboard side guns run out.”

  Though the order was clear and confident, Robert was aware of the risk he was taking; there was a sick feeling in his stomach. If he was wrong about the wind he would be facing the frigate’s broadside full on his starboard side and with the heavier guns the frigate would make a real mess of his ship. He was depending on one of the peculiarities of the Doldrums in this area. The winds that sprang up would be steady for a while then drop, a fresh wind would rise and blow for a while, then the breeze would drop immediately leaving a ship helpless in still air while the fresh breeze continued onward. Then it would drop and rise again on a different bearing.

  As the ships closed the distance Robert gripped the rail and willed the wind for the other
ship to drop. It did!

  As the Witch closed the distance to the French frigate, he steered to pass across the front of the ship at a distance of just less than a cable. As they passed the guns fired one by one raking the frigate the full length of her deck, front to rear, the bow guns of the enemy ship both fired but they were already under fire from the Witch and both balls went astray. The carronades fired last smashing the bowsprit causing the foremast to sway alarmingly before falling with a crash taking skeins of the rigging with it. With the wind still abaft the starboard beam the Witch came about and beat back towards the convoy.

  On the French frigate there was frantic activity as they worked to clear the wreckage of the foremast. After keeping the wind for a distance of three miles the wind dropped, still a half mile from the convoy. Robert immediately dropped all the boats with hawsers to tow the sloop nearer the convoy ships. The convoy had not shifted much but Robert noticed that the armed merchantmen and the two other naval ships he been pulled into line so that their guns would bear on any ship approaching from the direction of the Frenchman. Meanwhile the ships boats hauled the sloop closer to the convoy and swung her broadside to the potential danger if the frigate came in to the attack.