“Thank’ee lad, that’s good” he heard one man say after taking a drink, and many of the men reached out to touch the boy as he passed. “He’s a good lad that one, not like that bloody Dorrington.” commented another. “No, that un needs a good flogging ‘imself. Sorry Sir, didn’t see you there, didn’t mean any offence Sir.”
“Never mind, rest easy.” Merriman raised his voice, “Men, I think you will be pleased to know that we have dealt a hard blow to the enemy. The corvette is badly damaged and most likely aground and two of their transports are also aground and smashed. The third one has surrendered. All we have to do tomorrow is round up the Frenchies that got ashore. Well done, all of you. Mr McBride, a word on deck if you can leave here.”
As Merriman turned to leave a hoarse voice called out “Sir, I told you the men wouldn’t let you down, if you’ll pardon the impertinence Sir.”
He recognised one of the men from the original crew of the frigate. He smiled and replied “Nor have you, any of you.”
On deck the surgeon reported the numbers of dead and wounded. “Not too bad Sir, there are six dead and ten wounded. They should all recover except one who has a splinter through his stomach. He won’t see the dawn Sir.”
“No, not too many, but more than I like to see. Carry on Mr McBride, we’ll bury the dead at sea as soon as we can.”
He became aware of Peters and Tomkins hovering round, “Yes, what do you two rogues want?” His irascibility had no effect on either of them.
“If you please Sir, I’ve got a hot drink for you and the last of the chicken too Sir” said Peters. “And here’s a chair for you Sir” said Tomkins eagerly, “and I’ve rigged an ‘ammock too, with a curtain in your cabin Sir, seein’ as ‘ow all your furniture is still below.”
Merriman realised that he was bone weary and he hadn’t eaten or drunk since his sparse breakfast. The thought of a hot drink, food and a comfortable hammock was almost too much but there was one more order to issue before he surrendered himself to such luxuries.
“Mr Laing, as soon as the weather permits I want a prize crew sent across to secure that transport ship.”
“Aye – aye Sir, I’ll see to that. Laing found himself almost ushering his captain below. “You have a good rest Sir, we’ll need you wide awake tomorrow.”
He descended to his cabin, or rather the space where his cabin would be if the furniture and partitions had not been sent below, to find the hammock suspended between the guns which normally shared the cabin. In spite of the noise, the howling and demonic shrieking of the wind, the groaning and creaking of timbers and the pitching and rolling of the ship, he fell asleep almost as soon as he climbed into it, never noticing Peters gently covering him with his boat cloak.
Chapter 10: Moreau and French marines manage to get ashore
After the disastrous fight against the Lord Stevenage, seamen aboard the crippled La Sirene were frantically working to rig a staysail from the remains of the foremast fighting top to bring the ship under control again.
“We must anchor M’sieur Moreau,” shouted Captain Ferrier above the howling of the gale, “before we are driven ashore and the ship is lost.”
“Very well Captain, you must do whatever is necessary, but try to get as close to the shore as you can.”
“Close to shore do you say? We’ll go only as close as we must to find an anchorage M’sieur and that will not be easy.”
“We must endeavour to get the marines and myself ashore to support our men from the transport ships. From the cannon fire we heard, that damned English frigate must have attacked them and there must have been a lot of men killed. We have no idea how many have survived but the survivors will try to cross the hills to join our main force in Bantry Bay.”
And so, with great difficulty and good seamanship the French corvette closed the shore and Captain Ferrier ordered anchors to be dropped and sails taken in. But there was to be no rest for the weary crew working feverishly in the dark, wind and rain to make their ship seaworthy again. The work was progressing well and in the early hours of the morning the captain was beginning to allow himself the luxury of hope that the ship would survive.
The gale was abating and the seas going down when suddenly, with one final effort, the wind increased in force and a violent gust swept over the ship before dropping away almost completely. That last blow was too much for one of the ship’s overstrained anchor ropes which parted with a bang. The other rope held but it was quickly realised that the anchor was not holding. Before anything could be done the ship crashed onto a rock, lifted to a wave which carried her aground and came to rest with a slight list to starboard.
Captain Ferrier raised his arms in despair. “I’m sorry M’sieur Moreau, we can do no more. The ship is holed and aground, my crew is exhausted and it could take days to repair and re-float her.”
“Very well Captain, I can see that you have done the best you can, but as I said earlier, those of us who can, must get ashore to support our men from the other ships.”
Eventually, Moreau, Major Marmont an army officer, and fifty marines managed to get ashore with nothing worse than wet feet,
Moreau, Marmont and the marine officers looked about them in the pale light of the dawn.
“I think the best thing we can do is to climb to the summit of these hills and advance along them until we can see the fleet and see how much of our army has already been landed,” said Moreau. “We should also be able to discover how many people have got ashore from our own few ships. Do you agree M’sieurs?”
It took them several hours to reach a position from where they could see into Bantry Bay and there they were shocked and bitterly disappointed to see no sign of the French Fleet.
“B’but where are they?” stammered Marmont, “They should have arrived yesterday.”
“The gale has kept the fleet out to sea I expect Sir” replied the marine Lieutenant.”
“That will be it. We shall see them soon enough I imagine,” said Moreau as cheerfully as he could, although there were doubts creeping into his mind even then.
“Meanwhile let us proceed and find our survivors.”
After an hour’s hard marching, one of their advance scouts came running back to report. “We can see our people Sir, perhaps three hundred of them further on and down below us near an old farm.”
“So few? Did you see any sign of the English?” asked Major Marmont
“No Sir, but we did hear what might have been shots.”
Marmont looked at Moreau. “I think we had better join our comrades, M’sieur.
Chapter 11: Merriman ashore, determined to follow French survivors
Merriman gradually became aware of a hand shaking his shoulder. Petulantly he tried to ignore it and let sleep overcome him again but the hand persisted and as full wakefulness returned he realised that it was Lieutenant Laing beside the hammock. The sound of hammering and sawing testified that work on the repairs was continuing.
“I’m sorry to wake you Sir, but its dawn and the weather’s better. No more than a stiff breeze blowing now.”
“The ship man, how’s the ship?”
“Still at anchor Sir. She took the gale well and we managed to get the prize crew aboard the transport an hour ago.”
Merriman realised that Laing was red eyed from lack of sleep and looked desperately tired.
“Damn it Edward, you should have called me earlier.” Merriman tried to get to his feet and had perforce to clutch at Laing’s arm as the boat cloak wrapped itself round his legs and nearly brought him down.
Regaining his composure he grabbed his hat and ran up on deck to find that the wind was now no more than a strong breeze and the sea had abated considerably and also the rain had ceased. Of the two transports which had gone aground, only a few timbers protruding above the waves showed where they had been and on the shoreline a tangle of rigging, torn canvas, shattered timber and the corpses of both men and horses testified to the fury of last night’s gale.
&n
bsp; The third transport vessel lay to anchor between Lord Stevenage and the shore and members of the prize crew could be seen moving about her deck.
“Who is over there Mr Laing?”
“Mr Weston and Mr Hungerford with ten men and a bos’n’s mate Sir. They sent the boat back with the marines I sent as they found the ship completely deserted. The crew and soldiers must have managed to get ashore when the weather eased.”
“The ship lies closer inshore and has more shelter in the lee of the headland than we do, so they would have had time before dawn, non the less it shows that there is a determined officer in command. Anything else?”
“Somebody had tried to set her on fire, Sir, but unsuccessfully, fortunately for us, as there is a large supply of powder aboard. Also field pieces and shot.”
“That was probably panic on some Frenchman’s part, wanting to get away from the ship before it blew up, so he didn’t wait to see that the fire had caught properly I expect.”
“Yes Sir, apparently they left a hatch open to allow more air to reach the fire but that allowed water over the deck to get below and it put the fire out. There were horses too Sir, but the heathen French cut the throats of most of them before leaving, and there are only three left alive”
“And the corvette?”
“A mile or so further down the coast Sir, either aground or anchored, it’s difficult to be sure from here. You can just make her out with the glass.” Laing passed his telescope to his captain and waited for his reaction.
“Well she may be aground, she seems to have a slight list but as you say it is difficult to say. We know she lost her fore topmast as well as her bowsprit and in that gale she would be difficult to handle without her headsails. At this distance I can see no sign of life. Looks deserted to me but she hasn’t been set afire, I wonder why?”
“I wondered that Sir, and I can see no sign of men ashore though we can’t see the part of the shore hidden behind that small headland. There could be some there as well as the men over here.”
Laing pointed to the beach beyond the wreckage of the two transports. A number of men were making an attempt to light a fire of damp timber but only a few pathetic wisps of smoke rose to show their efforts.
“There must be more French ashore than we can see there,” exclaimed Merriman.
The other officers had arrived on the quarter-deck by then and were huddled in a group, rubbing chilled hands together to warm them, and discussing the situation.
“Gentlemen, to work. Our duty is clear. We must go ashore and find out what the French are doing. Captain St James, I’ll have all your marines in the landing party, and we’ll take most of the men with us. Mr Andrews, Mr Shrigley, you’ll go with me. Mr Laing, Mr Cuthbert, and you Mr Hungerford, you will remain with the ship with enough men to defend her or move her if necessary. The repairs will continue. All seamen to have a cutlass or pike and the more reliable must have a pistol or musket. Now, select your men and let’s be about it. Oh, one more thing Mr Laing. Send word to Mr Weston. I want one of those French field pieces out of that ship and ashore with powder and shot, especially canister or grape. And the horses. We’ll likely be outnumbered and may need it. Mr Salmon should go with it. Oh, and I want my clerk Tomkins to go over with O’Flynn and make a list of her cargo.”
“Sir, please Sir, can I go ashore too?” Merriman turned to find a chastened looking Dorrington, behind him.
“Yes, of course. It’ll be good experience for you. Now pass the word to Mr McBride that I need him ashore too.”
Dorrington disappeared below while Merriman wondered if the lad was beginning to show some improvement. Amid the hustle and bustle of preparing the boats, men arming themselves and being sorted into groups, Merriman stood alone on the quarter-deck, staring at the shore, mulling over the problem of what the French would do. That a good number had been put ashore before Lord Stevenage arrived was certain and together with those from the third transport and any able bodied survivors, they would make a formidable force.
“If I’m right and these four ships were separated from the main force, then where are the rest of them?” Unaware that he had spoken aloud, he was startled when a voice answered.
“If you are right James, they’ll be in Bantry bay and that’s where the French from these ships will have gone, overland,” said Mr Grahame who had been a silent bystander while Merriman issued his orders. “And I’m going ashore with you.”
The landing party gradually assembled on shore. The two marine officers with their thirty four men along with the other officers with some seventy or so seamen and petty officers. The men were all chattering like so many monkeys, excited at the prospect of a shore excursion and the chance to deal another blow to the French.
Weston’s party was rowing the longboat ashore with the French cannon balanced on planks laid athwart ships to another boat. It was slow work and the load was precariously balanced, but eventually the gun was run ashore and the boat sent back with a relief party of seamen to bring powder and shot. The horses were swum ashore and fitted with harness for pulling the gun.
In accordance with Merriman’s orders, the marines had landed first to secure the beach and low hills behind and already they had rounded up the French left on the beach.
“A poor lot Sir,” reported St James when Merriman landed, “Only forty of them, mostly soldiers and a few seamen. They’re wet, cold, exhausted and thoroughly miserable and some of them are suffering from broken bones and near drowning. They have no weapons Sir, so what do you wish me to do with them?”
“We can’t bother with them now, they will need nourishment and warmth but we can’t spare the time. I don’t think we will need to guard them, with no weapons and nowhere to go they pose no threat. Have the able bodied of them drag the bodies of their countrymen to the far end of the beach for burial. They’ll have to stay on the beach until we return. Meanwhile I’ll speak with them. Mr McBride, come with me.”
Not for the first time was he grateful for keeping on his ship one Anton O’Flynn, a Frenchman of Irish descent, captured four years ago, who had betrayed French plans to Merriman, albeit in fear for his life. Since then O’Flynn had taught both Merriman and Shrigley to speak French. He approached the woebegone prisoners.
“Who is the senior man here?”
A lanky individual, his clothes mostly rags, stood up. “Me Sir, I am an under officer, what you call a petty officer. My name is Pierre Cabette.”
“Well then, I know that many more men landed from your ships last night, where have they gone?”
Cabette waved his arm inland, to where the red coats of the marine pickets could be seen on the hills.
“All the men able to walk left us Sir. Most of us were too weak to follow and besides, I couldn’t leave the wounded behind.”
He gestured to where the ship’s doctor was already examining the wounded Frenchmen.
“How are they Mr McBride?”
“They’ll survive Sir. Some broken limbs and two of them with cracked ribs but what they need now is warmth and food.”
“Oh, very well then.. Mr Shrigley, have four men take a boat over to the transport and bring back the means of lighting a fire and some of their provisions. Then send the boats back to the ship. No point in leaving them here to tempt the prisoners. Mr McBride, you can attend to the wounded men and then follow us.”
He turned back to the Frenchman. “We’ll leave you some food and the means of lighting a fire M’sieur Cabette, but that is all I can do for you now. I repeat, do you know where the others have gone, why and how many are there?”
“Yes Sir, I know but I will not tell you. We are enemies are we not?”
But it was obvious which way the French had gone. The tramping of many feet had left a clear pathway from the beach leading up to a valley in the hills where the wet ground had been churned to mud. Merriman called his officers together.
“It seems that the French are trying to join their countrymen who I believe to be landing
in Bantry Bay, over these hills in front of us. Where they go we must follow, and now that Mr Weston has managed to get this gun ashore we must take it with us.” Andrews eyed the long uphill slope unhappily.
“I know Mr Andrews, it will not be easy but the horses will be a great help. Sort out the men into three groups. One to haul the gun, one to carry the shot and the third to carry the powder cartridges. They can change round at intervals. Mr St James, apart from skirmishers, your marines must help with the gun.”
“Aye – aye Sir. I’ll take ten of my men ahead to keep an eye open for the French.”
“Very good, but when you reach a point from where they can see the French, you must stop, keep out of sight and send a runner back to tell me.”
In spite of a cold wind, the exertion of climbing the hills soon warmed every one up and that and the appearance of a watery looking sun behind thinning cloud raised their spirits considerably and the men were soon singing a sea shanty to help them with the hauling of the cannon, but that quickly died away as they reached the steeper slope. Shipboard life with its lack of exercise was not conducive to great physical fitness and it was not long before Merriman and the other officers were sweating freely beneath their heavy uniform coats. The seamen were more used to an active life especially the lean and fit topmen who were used to scrambling up the rigging and along the yards, but even so, the harsh physical effort of dragging the heavy gun uphill began to wear the men down, even with the horses to help.
Progress became slower and slower until Merriman halted the column. Rocks were hastily pushed behind the wheels and the men, gasping and blowing, collapsed on the ground.
“This is taking too long Gentlemen, we must change our tactics. Leave half the shot here and send the other half ahead with all the powder. That will spare more men for the gun. The men with the lighter loads of powder will make better time if they don’t have to wait to change places with the gun pullers and as soon as they reach the top of these hills they can find a dry place to leave it and then come back here. The men with the shot will take a bit longer but they too can deliver their loads to the top and then come back. Eventually all the men will be pulling the gun.”
Merriman and the French Invasion (The Merriman Chronicles Book 2) Page 10