HMS Falcon: A Charles Mullins novel, Sea Command 7

by Richard Testrake

  Not so this captain or crew. No one would be the first to show the white feather. All leaders aboard the brig well knew their fate would likely entail a court proceeding with a most probable hanging after. Most of the men probably felt the same. If death must be faced, it would be better to face it with a cutlass in hand rather than a noose around one’s neck.

  Should any shipmaster wish to prey upon his countrys’ enemies for profit, he must first obtain a letter of marque from a government official which authorized attacks upon enemy shipping and installations during time of war. Such a commander must abide with all protocols usually observed by various armed services.

  Attacks on other than warring parties were forbidden and offenders could be treated as pirates. Should the captain of a ship carrying a letter of marque step over the line and attack a neutral or even friendly target, he and his crew could expect to receive a most severe punishment.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The outcome was inevitable, once Vesta lured the remaining schooner within range of Sussex’ guns that morning. A broadside fired by the third-rate at long range merely knocked down her foremast, but that was enough. Now unable to escape, the schooner fought to the death. Vesta and Hera both set their gun crews with knocking the schooner apart. The pirate never pulled down any flag, she merely fought until there was no longer a deck to fight from.

  With the battle now over, the convoy needed to be gathered and put back into order. Several of the merchant masters had opted to leave the convoy and make for their destination by themselves. Little Pluto did yeoman’s work ranging about gathering up the errant ships. Eventually, all but a single merchant was gathered. That ship was never seen again, either in Gibraltar harbor, or at sea.

  Without resources to properly search for the missing merchant ship, while still maintaining control over the present fleet, Captain Morgan reluctantly decided to give up any idea of searching for the enemy base. Mullins had been involved in many frustrating missions, but this was one he would remember for years.

  After making his courtesy calls upon the local officials, it was time to return to her work. Fresh supplies were taken aboard in Gibraltar, then Achilles set sail. Making her way up the Iberian coast, her lookouts kept strict watch. Several suspicious vessels were sighted, but Mullins did not wish to spend the time running them down.

  Once, just to give his men some action, he ordered Achilles to close a French-controlled fortress on the Spanish coast. Although most parts of Spain were in revolt over the excesses of the French occupation, sheer strength and numbers allowed the Imperial forces to control large swathes of Spanish territory.

  A bevy of small craft clustered in its little harbor under the battery. There appeared to be no reasonable way to cut them out, so Achilles merely cruised by the fortress and saluted its tricolor with a broadside of his portside guns. Her balls merely pockmarked the stone casing without causing noticeable damage.

  When the enemy did not immediately reply, he put the ship about to give his starboard battery its chance. This time, a pair of guns answered, their balls skipping along the sea’s surfaced, eventually plunging to the bottom several hundred feet before their target.

  Afterward, he expressed his regret to Mister Johnson that he had aroused the enemy. “Apparently, they were not expecting an attack and ours merely woke them without doing significant harm. Had we left them alone, another ship may have been able to cut-out some of that shipping on a dark night.”

  After entering French coastal waters, more enemy shipping began to be encountered. Mostly small craft, to which Achilles paid no attention. Continuing up the coastline, they met with elements of the Inshore Squadron off the port of Brest. Commodore Davis, aboard HMS Medusa, hailed them and invited Mullins to his ship for a drink. Both spent a sociable afternoon together and discussed Achilles’ presence. Davis was not quite confident of the Admiralty’s assessment of these French line-of-battle ships and their prospects of being easily defeated by smaller frigates.

  “I realize our betters believe a few of these liners are manned primarily by untrained army conscripts. Last month, my ship encountered the French 74 ‘Hero’ as she escorted a small convoy into Brest.”

  “One of her charges, a little brig-snow, missed stays while coming about and was out of position. My thought was to come up alongside her, give her a broadside of grape and board in the smoke. Unfortunately, Hero’s captain guessed my intention and came about as fast as you can say. She was waiting with her guns run out when I prepared to come alongside the snow.”

  “Needless to say, when I saw the liner was preparing to fire her broadside into me, I continued my turn, ending up with the snow between the 74 and myself. We fired off our own broadside, getting hits on both the snow and the liner. The liner also fired, but most of her shots were intercepted by the merchant.”

  “A twenty-four pound ball hit my port quarter and another ball went through the mizzen staysail. We escaped with much less damage than we deserved. I cannot fault the enemy’s ship handling, although she does need to work on her gunnery a bit. I will say the snow she was protecting was a shattered wreck when we left.”

  Mullins parted company with the commodore, both pledging to meet and cooperate whenever conditions permitted.

  After leaving Medusa, Achilles began to encounter nearly gale-fore westerly winds. Not wishing to become trapped against a lee shore, Mullins took the frigate farther out to sea. Mister Brewer forecast the storm would get worse before it got better so the hands were put to work securing anything that might fail.

  When the wind continued to increase, Mister Brewer hove to and ship and crew waited for the gale to pass. Visibility was usually almost nill, with driving rain and spray. Mullins remained on the quarterdeck with his first officer and sailing master during the worst of the storm.

  During a brief improvement of visibility, a ship was seen in the distance, almost on her beam ends. She had no canvas left and appeared to be driving toward the coast many miles away. There was nothing that could be done to assist the ship or its crew. Hours later, when the storm had moderated, Mullins invited the officers who had stood on the storm-lashed deck with him, to his cabin for a drink.

  Mister Brewer casually mentioned that had been a French 74 they had seen in difficulty. Mullins had not had a good look at the ship, but was willing to take his sailing master’s word. Unwilling to leave the coastal waters unwatched, they continued on an easterly course until spotting the sails of HMS Medusa and one of her consorts, a sloop-of-war.

  Invited over to Medusa for dinner, Mullins had an enjoyable conversation with Commodore Davis. The Inshore Squadron commander had an interesting sequel to the tale about the bare-poled French 74 on her way to possible destruction.

  “We saw her coming, just before dark. A French third-rate, she was on her side, with a few men scrambling to keep from being washed off. Her masts were gone and she was rolling so badly, I thought she might go right over. Against all odds, she was driven behind a headland in the only good holding ground on this coast. Somehow, her hands cut away her anchor, and in a minute she went from a doomed ship being driven toward the rocks, to a securely anchored vessel straining at her anchor.”

  “By morning, the weather had calmed and the ship had been brought more-or-less to an even keel. I sent my boats in, intending to burn the hull, but her crew got a couple of guns cleared away and put a hot fire against the incoming boarders.”

  “Deciding this ship was a hopeless wreck, I decided to recall my men, thinking it would never sail again and certainly not worth any lives lost.”

  “Since then, the French army has set up some guns to defend her and reports have it she will soon be at sea again. I see the French have gotten her sticks back in and a fisherman I interviewed thinks she will be able to sail next week.

  Achilles spent weeks patrolling the coast, sighting the usual small craft, but larger transports with important cargo failed to appear. At length, a message reached Captain Mullins
that the French liner ‘Hero” had her repairs complete and was now again escorting merchants. One of the brig-sloops had spotted her off Cherbourg with a half-dozen timber carriers. This time the big liner did not show her previous proficiency and Badger closed the convoy and shot away a fore topmast from one of the transports.

  Hero came charging back and rescued her damaged transport, but Badger continued her mischief and set upon another. Again, Hero came to the rescue. By this time, the original target of Badger, slowed by her damage, had fallen behind the others, so the little brig was able to pump a pair of broadsides into her at close range, before the liner was able to interfere. After dithering about the wounded transport, while Badger was making attempts against the other members of the convoy, the crew of the big liner finally took away the crew of the crippled transport and set her afire.

  Bereft of her prize, Badger followed the convoy until they ducked into a protected port, then the brig made her way to the rendezvous where she made her report.

  Mullins discussed the opportunity with Commodore Davis. Davis thought the pair of frigates, operating together, might make a useful attempt against the 74. Leaving the remainder of Davis’ force behind to maintain the blockade, Medusa and Achilles set out to search for the enemy.

  The harbor where Badger lad left their foe was empty, but a British dispatch cutter they met, advised the hunters she had met the enemy ships as they were putting out to sea. The weather glass was dropping and the sailing master was convinced another storm would strike before morning, Mullins thought the captain of their quarry was remembering the previous storm he had experienced and was trying to get more sea room before it struck.

  Separating to be able to search a larger area, the frigates went out into the Channel. Nothing was seen that evening, but next morning the storm found them, as did the enemy a few hours later. Hero and two of her flock were riding out the storm to windward. There were fewer ships than reported by the cutter’s captain, but still some crippling damage could be done to the enemy.

  Of course, little harm could be done to the 74, but it would be strange if serious damage could not be inflicted upon the transports. The enemy did not appear to be alarmed now, she probably did not regard the frigates to be a serious threat at first. When the enemy ships began drifting down toward Achilles and Medusa though, signals were flown from Hero. Moments later, both merchants shook out some reefs and cautiously set out down the Channel with their big escort.

  Hero was seen to open her upper ports to ready herself for action. The plan had been for the pair of frigates to take the merchants and stay clear of the battleship, but now Mullins thought he had a chance. In a signal to Medusa, he sent, ‘Submit I engage battleship’.

  Commodore Davis answered, ‘We will both engage warship’.

  The enemy’s leeway was pushing her down toward the frigates. As she neared, it was soon noticed that the big liner was heeled over enough that her lower gun ports were perilously close to the sea, sometimes being submerged. Of course, in such a situation, it was necessary for those port lids to be closed and the guns secured. The frigates, to leeward, had their gun ports higher above the water-line, and were not affected as badly. In addition, in the leeward position, the windward beams of the frigates were heeled upward, giving them extra security from any danger of swamping. Mullins was able to open fire before the enemy could because of this higher elevation above the water. The sea was so rough that good shooting was mostly a matter of luck. Occasionally though, a shot landed where it could take noticeable effect.

  As the ships closed, two of the carronades connected with solid hits to the enemy’s port beam. Immediately, the big liner began to take on water as those big, difficult holes were continually submerged in the sea. The lack of skilled seamen on the enemy also hampered repairs. While Achilles and Hero exchanged shots, Medusa ranged ahead of the enemy’s bow and began firing into her forepeak. Good shooting was impossible in these circumstance, and often shots would go unobserved.

  Hero was also unable to reply effectively, only occasionally getting off a shot and even these usually went astray. During the course of the action, the wind increased dramatically, so that even the crews of the lighter carronades could only get off a shot at long intervals. Terrible damage, both from gunfire and the storm, was crippling the enemy ship, but she was huge and continued to absorb punishment. The fight ended when a full charge of grape from a single forward gun severed some shrouds of the enemy foremast. The force of the winds then broke the remaining strands and the mast came down, going over the side, like a giant sea anchor.

  The ship was immediately turned about, falling into a trough between waves and a following wave rolled right over her. On her beam ends when it passed, the next waves removed her remaining masts, then she was the plaything of the waves, shedding men from her decks as she rolled violently.

  With nothing to do that might save any of the victims, Achilles and Medusa drifted away from the scene. Both ships came to during the storm but after it began to pass, the frigates commenced their repairs, Crews of both vessels were exhausted and many hands were casualties, so both captains allowed their men a day’s rest after repairs were complete.

  Then, it was time for the ships to part. Medusa would go back to her blockade duties, while Achilles would sail to Portsmouth.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The weather having moderated, Mister Brewer set course for Portsmouth. They had just finished with noon sights when HMS Rainbow came in sight. As she had the first time they met, she was flying signals indicating the Commander of the Channel Fleet wished to speak Achilles

  Having had previous dealings with Lord Keith, this was one order Mullins would have been happy to avoid. However, an order was an order. At least, he had completed his assigned duties and it was unlikely he would be prevented from carrying out something important.

  There was no difficulty this time. The Fleet commander was merely feeling sociable and wished to have some fresh person with whom to discuss events. Lord Keith just barely recalled meeting Mullins on the previous occasion, but did not recall ordering him back to port.

  This time, they sat in the great cabin at the huge table, sparsely populated now with a few lieutenants, some mids and the flag lieutenant. The flag captain had somehow begged off. When the action of Achilles and Medusa against Hero was discussed, not a word was heard over Mullin’s narration, save for a few exclamations by Lord Keith.

  When the last toast had been drunk, Admiral Keith drew Mullins aside. My lad, I honor you for your victory. I can only hope that I too will experience such before I must haul down my flag. I know I am old and becoming forgetful. This morning I was standing under my skylight and heard some of the officers talking outside. It seems I may have offended you in the past, and for that I wish to express my apologies.

  Mullins assured the old man there had never been any offense and he would gladly serve under the admiral whenever he wished.

  A harbor boat was waiting to show Achilles where to moor. Mullins would have preferred to moor in his usual place but another frigate was already riding at anchor there. Not wishing to become involved in an argument while his reports were being awaited by the admiral, Mullins submitted and followed the young midshipmans’ instructions.

  By the time they had their canvas off and had picked up their mooring, the flag had already signaled for Achilles captain to come aboard.

  Mullins, by now was seated in his cabin, dictating some corrections to his report while his servant scraped the whiskers from his face. His cox’n, pressed into this duty, stood by with his coat and hat, as he stood. It was important the watch standers of the flag perceive no untimely delay to comment upon. regarding Captain Mullin’s descent into his gig.

  There was a significant chop in the harbor, but nothing that would dissuade the now-professional seamen at the oars of Mullin’s gig. He was soaked when he climbed through the entry port, but the flag captain hustled him inside where he was given a dry robe
and a large brandy.

  The admiral complemented Mullins on his ship’s entry into port and asked his opinion on some Spanish cigars he had recently found. Over port and cheese, the admiral stated, “By the way Captain, your wife has invited me to your home next week. I believe she and some friends are putting on a musical performance.”

  Admiral Montague waved aside Mullins’ apologies. “Not at all, Captain. I regard it as my duty to see as much of my commanders and their families as possible. Besides, this may be a chance to discuss an idea that has been put before me. I do not have all the necessary information at hand yet, so we will discuss the matter later.

  There was plenty of work to be done aboard Achilles, enough so that Mullins was reluctant to leave his ship to coach up to London. When he approached his admiral to beg for a postponement of the trip, Montague was adamant.

  “Your wife has decreed that I be present in your home for that little musical afternoon she and some friends have arranged. Damn it sir, since I have to coach up to London for this, you will certainly accompany me. We can all go in the government coach that has been entrusted to me. I can review some topics with you on the trip. No excuses, will be heard, sir!

  To be continued:

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