Merriman and the French Invasion (The Merriman Chronicles Book 2)

by Roger Burnage

  “Only old people Sir, and kids. They made no trouble.”

  Chapter 17: Return to Bantry

  In the early gloom of that same morning, His Majesty’s ship Lord Stevenage slowly stole from her anchorage under single topsails and jib and with Lieutenant Laing in command crept quietly along the coast to where La Sirene was lying.

  Yesterday afternoon before dark, Lieutenant Andrews had returned to the ship with the seamen and most of the marines, and reported the details of the encounter with the French to an anxious Laing.

  “Dammit! I wish I’d been there” he exclaimed, “You‘ve had all the fun whilst we have just been guarding prisoners. ”

  “Yes Sir, but the Captain sends his compliments and you are now required to attack, destroy or capture the French ship La Sirene.”

  “Am I by God? That suits me well enough. Now that the gale has passed we may slip down to where she lies and take them by surprise. I think the best time will be just as dawn is breaking.”

  “Yes Sir, but you should know that some of the French seamen and marines escaped and even now must be trying to reach their ship.”

  “Did they? Then we must assume that they have managed to do so, although I can’t see that it will alter things.”

  Laing, a careful and thinking officer, took a few moments to marshal his thoughts. “Right David, this is what we will do. Just before first light we will up anchor and proceed under light canvas down to where the Frenchies are and I hope we shall take them by surprise. Since you all left yesterday, I’ve kept all the guns loaded against the possibility that the French may attempt something against us, so I’ll have all the charges drawn and the guns reloaded with fresh powder.”

  “Aye-aye Sir.”

  “I think that it would be wise to send one of our boats to try to creep close enough to see what The Frenchies are doing. It might tell us what to expect. Mr Weston has had an easy day aboard the transport vessel, so he can do it. Meanwhile we will prepare for all possibilities. See to it if you please Mr Andrews,” he said, reverting back to the more formal wording.

  As Lord Stevenage crept through the water there was no sound except the pleasant chuckle of the slight bow wave and the various creaks and groans of the timbers as the ship eased herself over the gentle swells. All the men were alert and armed and Lieutenant Laing had ordered a tot of rum for each of them before the ship moved from her anchorage to approach La Sirene.

  Ashore, all was quickly arranged. In the cold light of the approaching dawn Dorrington, still unconscious, was gently laid in the cart, and a horse deftly harnessed to it by Brown, the seaman who had collected the horses.

  “That man seems to know his way round horses,” commented Merriman to Mr White, watching him.

  “I imagine that he was once an ostler or carter or some such, Sir, but I agree, he is very capable with the animals.”

  Merriman was all impatience to know what had happened to his man Owen so he despatched Jackson and a marine ahead of the slowly moving, lumbering cart. When the two men arrived at the cottage where Merriman and Doddington had been attacked they found the place deserted except for an old woman and Owen. It appeared that the old woman had been trying to tend him as he had been covered with a threadbare blanket and a none too clean rag wrapped round his head, but he still lay where he had fallen and he made no response when Jackson shook his arm.

  When the cart and the rest of the party arrived, Jackson was able to report that Owen was still alive and breathing, albeit faintly. “’e’s in a bad way Sir, this old woman has tried to ‘elp him though she couldn’t move ‘im by herself.”

  The arrival of the party of armed men had obviously frightened the woman who tried to creep away, but Jackson held on to her.

  Merriman stared at the woman, dirty and ragged though she was, half-starved and living on the poverty line, she had tried to help and for that he was grateful.

  He smiled at her, “I Thank you for what you have done for my man,” he said, but she shook her head and muttered something unintelligible in reply.

  “People round here don’t speak English,” remarked Mr White, “They have some heathen, outlandish tongue of their own, I can’t make head nor tail of it.”

  “Perhaps if we made a better attempt to understand them we might avoid some of the trouble we have with them,” Merriman retorted with some asperity. Here you, Brown, give the poor creature some of the food we brought from the other house,” he ordered, “We can do no more for her than that.”

  Owen was laid in the cart next to Dorrington and then leaving the place the party slowly began to retrace their steps of the previous day. Merriman led, accompanied by St. James and Mr White. Moreau rode behind with Mr Grahame beside him and behind them the two marines rode knee to knee keeping a wary eye on the Frenchman as if expecting him to bolt at the first opportunity. At the tail of the group came the cart driven by Brown, bearing the two injured men with Jackson riding alongside watching over them.

  It was late in the afternoon when they reached the house from which Moreau and O’Rourke had stolen the horses. To the profuse thanks of Mrs Charnock they were able to promise the return of her animals after the party had reached Mr White’s house.

  “What happened to the men who stole them,” she asked with a shy glance at the marine officer. With a smile he answered, “Why, Ma’am, we caught them. One is our prisoner and the other is dead.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Will you brave gentlemen not stay for some refreshment?”

  Merriman interceded, “I’m sorry Ma’am, regretfully we must decline. I thank you for your offer but we have two badly wounded men in the cart and must get them to my ship’s doctor at Bantry as fast as we can.”

  “I’m disappointed Sir, cannot one or two of you stay for a while? It gets lonely here while my husband is away and I lack company. What about you Sir, will you not stay?” She smiled coquettishly at St. James.

  For his part, the marine turned his shocked face to Merriman. The “get me out of this” appeal in his eyes was unmistakeable.

  Merriman grinned at the appalled St. James, deliberately delaying his reply. Finally he said “I must apologise again Ma’am, I’m sure he wishes to stay but I cannot permit it, he is needed aboard my ship.”

  St. James breathed out a huge sigh of relief as they rode away, “For a moment Sir, I thought you were going to deliver me into the hands of the lady and order me stay.”

  “Believe me Edward, the thought crossed my mind,” replied Merriman with another grin, “But I decided it would be unfair to do that to you. You’ve had a lucky escape.”

  Night had fallen by the time they arrived at Mr White’s residence, Bantry House. They found that the French prisoners had been forced to carry the French wounded to the stables there where McBride the ship’s doctor was tending them. All the unwounded and walking wounded prisoners were safely under lock and key in Mr White’s spacious coach house guarded by men of the militia.

  The two wounded men were carried indoors from the cart and placed in a downstairs room. Mr White was all hospitality, food was provided for the hungry and exhausted men and all of them found somewhere to sleep. The doctor reported to Merriman that both Owen and Dorrington were still insensible, but he had dressed their wounds and expected that with time they would both recover. With that Merriman finally allowed him to examine his own wound and re-bandage it. Wearily he climbed the stairs to the room given to Moreau, Grahame and himself and collapsed, across the bed. He was asleep instantly.

  Chapter 18: Arrival of the English Cavalry

  “Sir, Sir,” He awoke, sleepily staring at the unfamiliar fabric of the half tester over the bed and wondering where he was. Jackson was trying to rouse him. “Sir, can you come? Owen’s conscious now and wants to talk to you. The doctor doesn’t think ‘e’s going to live Sir!”

  At that moment as Merriman struggled to collect his wits he knew. He knew without a shadow of doubt that it was Dorrington who had struck him on the
head. There had been no Irish ambush. And Owen? Jackson had reported that Owen had been shot. Had Dorrington shot him? Sitting up on the edge or the bed he saw that Moreau and Grahame were already up and gone.

  “Very well, I’ll come at once.”

  In the room where Dorrington and Owen were, he found the doctor bending over Owen, re-bandaging the man’s head.

  “How is he Mr McBride?”

  The doctor shook his head, “It’s not good Sir. He pulled his bandage off in the night and tried to get up. Then he must have fallen and hit his head on the table here. He’s barely conscious, but he keeps saying that he must tell you something.”

  Merriman knelt down by the low bed and took the man’s hand. “I’m here Owen, what is it you have to say?”

  Owen opened his eyes then closed them again as pain hit him and he groaned. Then, feebly clutching Merriman’s hand he said “Sir, I saw Mr Dorrington ‘it you on the head and then ‘e shot me when I ran forward.to ‘elp.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes Sir, I know - know you told me to stay back when you and Mr Dorrington went off to – to look round.” His voice faded, making Merriman and the doctor lean closer to hear, “but I didn’t trust ‘im not to do you some ‘arm Sir, not after ‘is threats aboard ship, so I followed you.” He rallied a little and tried to lift his head. “I were near enough to see though Sir, I know he did it.” He groaned again and his head fell back.

  “Let me see Sir,” exclaimed the doctor. “He’s still alive, but after that second blow to his head I don’t know if he will live.”

  “Well do your best for him, he’s a good man and has saved my life on more than one occasion. Did you hear what he said?’ asked Merriman.

  “Yes Sir I did. But I can hardly believe what I heard. Surely Mr Dorrington wouldn’t go that far?” and he glanced over at the other bed where Dorrington lay. “He still hasn’t come round Sir, he has three broken ribs and judging by the wounds to his head he must have been severely beaten and probably kicked.”

  Merriman rose to his feet, “Keep your eye on him Mr McBride and tell me immediately he wakes up, but don’t let him or anyone else know what Owen said.”

  He left the room and went to look for the others. He found them eating a hearty breakfast of eggs and pork with lovely fresh white bread. The smell of food and coffee told him how hungry he was and he eagerly set about the plateful offered to him by a maid. With the inner man finally satisfied he considered his next move.

  “Gentlemen, this is very nice and cosy but we have work to do. Mr White, your hospitality is overwhelming and I am grateful, but we cannot stay here longer. I must get back to my ship as soon as maybe, taking my people with me. Is there any word about the presence of cavalry or any of our military hereabouts?”

  “They are not yet here Sir, but my groom who rode off to find them came back not an hour ago and told us that a troop of cavalry will be with us shortly.”

  “Very good, they can take charge of the prisoners and perhaps they can send a detachment to round up the escapees. Now then, is there any boat available that could take us round to find the ship in Kenmare river?”

  “Nothing beyond a few small rowing boats I’m afraid, nothing that could live in the seas further out.”

  “Hmm, that won’t do. There is nothing else for it but for me to ride back over the hills to see what is happening over there. Then we’ll have to bring the ship round into Bantry Bay.”

  He pondered for a moment, “Mr White, If we may presume on your hospitality further and you are agreeable, I’ll leave Mr Grahame and M’sieur Moreau and the men here. We’ll be back to pick them up as soon as possible.”

  “Gladly Captain, is there anything else I can do to help?”

  “There is Sir, I need to borrow your horses yet again. Mr St James, I’ll take you and the two of your marines who can ride. And I’ll take Jackson and Brown too, and one of your men Mr White, to bring the horses back. And you might as well keep those three horses that belonged to the French. You can at least use them to drag the cannon round.”

  As they made their way into the stable yard to collect the horses there was a clatter of hooves and the jingle and rattle of equipment as a troop of cavalry arrived. A mud spattered officer looked over the waiting group, immediately identified Merriman as the one in command, swung down from his horse and saluted.

  “Captain Desmond Hall Sir, His Majesty’s 3rd Regiment of Lancers. I understand you have some French prisoners to be taken off your hands.”

  “Captain Merriman, Captain, of His Majesty’s frigate Lord Stevenage which is presently in the Kenmare River. There was an attempted French landing there and here in Bantry but fortunately the gales drove most of their ships away. We have some hundred and fifty prisoners here of which fifty or so are wounded, some seriously, the others less so. We caught them after a brief fight but unfortunately, perhaps another hundred got away and need to be hunted down. They are mostly unarmed, cold, wet and hungry so will probably put up little resistance.”

  “Very good Sir, we’ll set off immediately. Have you any idea in which direction they went?”

  “Southward, along the west side of the bay, but they will be trying to get back to their own ship which also is in Kenmare River, although I hope my own ship will manage to stop their escape.” He turned to Mr White. “Sir, can we depend on your militiamen to stay here guarding the prisoners?”

  “I was proposing to keep only one hundred of the best of them Captain. Well-armed as they now are with the captured muskets and equipment I don’t think they will have any trouble.”

  “Sir, on the way here we passed two companies of foot marching towards Bantry, they could be here before midday,” said Captain Hall.

  “Excellent. Even better, perhaps you can leave word for them to follow you. Then with your permission Mr White, I’ll leave Lieutenant Goodwin and his marines here with the doctor to help in looking after the wounded. I am anxious to get back to Lord Stevenage so we must go immediately.”

  Hastily mounting, Merriman and his party set off, closely followed by the cavalry. When they arrived at the site of the forlorn French attack and defeat, Merriman sent captain Hall and his men off in the direction which he expected the remaining French to have gone and then he, St James and the others started the arduous journey back over the hills to Kenmare River, passing where the French dead had been hastily buried.

  As he rode, he mentally recalled the events leading up to Dorrington’s attempt to kill him. Of course there was the fact that the youth had been sent to the masthead as punishment on more than one occasion, and when he was found to have beaten young Small with his riding whip, Merriman had had him caned by the Bos’n. after which he had threatened to kill his captain. At the time Merriman had considered this to be no more than hot air and an empty threat but obviously he was wrong.

  Dorrington was a violent, sadistic and depraved youth with an inflated idea of his own importance. Arrogant and used to having his own way, his fatherless upbringing and temperament had culminated in the attempted murder of his captain and if Owen died then that would be murder. Merriman shook his head sadly as he mentally castigated himself for underestimating the youth’s capacity for evil. Owen had been more aware of it and had been prepared to disobey orders to protect his captain and had paid a terrible price. It was one more problem with which he would have to deal when they were all back aboard Lord Stevenage.

  Eventually they reached a point high up from where they could see down to the place where the ship was supposed to be, but there was no sign of it. The captured French transport ship was still there and the French prisoners were still on the beach where a rough shelter had been erected to protect them from the elements, so where was the ship?

  Merriman had to admit that he was shaken, but a few moments reflection told him that his ship must be further down the coast. After all, he had sent his men back to the ship with orders to the First Lieutenant to capture or destroy the Fren
ch ship La Sirene.

  “Right then, we will continue along the ridge until we can see something of the ships. Jackson, I want you to scout ahead and keep your eyes peeled. We mustn’t forget that the French we failed to capture must have headed for the same place, we don’t want to find ourselves ambushed.”

  But there was no ambush. They had not gone far when the two vessels were visible. La Sirene appeared to be aground and Lord Stevenage was anchored in deeper water astern of her. Red coats could be seen on the Frenchman’s deck which indicated that Lieutenant Laing had succeeded in capturing her.

  A flood of relief washed over Merriman at the sight. If anything had happened to his own ship in his absence he would be finished and would never get another command. He looked up as there was a pounding of hooves and Jackson came riding furiously towards them. He hauled his horse to a standstill near Merriman.

  “Sir, I’ve seen the French, there are lots of ‘em on the beach and more on the slope of the hill leading down there. Best of all Sir, if you ride another few ‘undred yards you can see our cavalry on the ridge above ‘em.”

  They all moved forward behind Jackson who flung out his arm dramatically and pointed, there Sir, you can see them on the top there.”

  Merriman pulled his small telescope from his pocket and focussed on the ships first. There was no doubt that La Sirene was a prize of war, he saw Lieutenant Andrews striding about the deck as he issued orders to a group of men including Mr Brockle the Bos’n and Mr Green the carpenter. Obviously they were involved in repairs.

  Focussing on the men on the beach, Merriman saw that they looked totally dispirited, sitting round in groups on the sand or stamping round slapping their arms round their body in an attempt to keep warm. “Probably the crew,” he conjectured, turning his glass on the other men on the hill. These looked totally exhausted, some of them looking hopelessly at their ship but even in their misery there were some men running about, attempting to form a square to receive the cavalry. By contrast, the cavalrymen sat their mounts quietly, the pennons on their lances fluttering in the breeze.