Battle Fleet (2007)

by Paul Dowswell

  Bel joined in. ‘If we’re attacked, I’m not goin’ to have me throat slit without puttin’ up a good fight, and neither’s Lizzie.’

  Evison forbade their use of firearms too when I asked him, but he did agree they should learn how to defend themselves. Out on the deck we ran through the moves we had learned aboard HMS Miranda – the strange, balletic steps of cutlass play that let the swordsman keep as great a distance as possible from his opponent. At first they were mocked by the crew. Lizzie was a bit lead-footed but Bel had a fluid grace about her and drew enough admiring glances to make me feel jealous.

  One evening when I was talking to Bel on her own, she told me she was running out of books to read. ‘Captain Evison has quite a collection in his cabin,’ I said. ‘Can you borrow some of his?’

  ‘I’ll have to get Lizzie to ask,’ she said. ‘He wouldn’t lend them to me.’

  ‘Who taught you to read?’ I asked. I knew it was quite something for a poor London girl to be literate. She took my question as an excuse to tell me something about herself.

  ‘Brought up in Bermondsey, I was,’ she said. ‘My ma’s a fishwife at Billingsgate. My dad’s a lighterman. We live and breathe by that River Thames. Neither of them can read a word. But I got taught by the vicar’s missus. Wonderful lady she was. She took me off, told me how to make sense of them squiggles. My ma’s ever so proud of me being able to read. My dad’s not bothered though. “What bleedin’ use is that?” he’d say. “You’re a bleedin’ girl!”

  ‘I don’t wanna spend the rest of my days guttin’ fish like my ma. Not that she’s thick or anything. She’s sharp as a pin. But I want to see the world. That’s why I’m happy to be with Miss Lizzie. She’s a nice girl. Bit hoitytoity sometimes, still, no one’s perfect. But she’s taken me under her wing and taught me a lot.’

  ‘Will you stay with her?’ I asked.

  ‘I’d be daft not to,’ she said at once. ‘She’s my ticket out of the fish market. She’s teaching me how to talk properly, good manners, the sort of things that stop people looking down their noses at you. I like the houses she lives in. I don’t like the people she usually mingles with, but they’re interesting. Most of them don’t even look at me. I might as well be invisible. So I just melt into the background and watch.’

  We both rested our arms on the starboard rail, staring out to sea. She leaned a little closer. ‘That Lieutenant, Hossack, he’s taken quite a shine to her,’ she whispered. ‘I think she quite likes him too. She has a soft spot for gentlemen in uniform, unfortunately.’

  I was pleased Bel liked me enough to confide in me. As she talked, I looked at the side of her face in the setting sun and thought how pretty she was. I wondered if one day I might dare to kiss her.

  The Orion caught a sudden squall, and as the sails billowed, the hull lurched in the water. Bel and I slipped together awkwardly, just as she noticed me looking at her.

  ‘Get yer saucy hands off me!’ she said, shrugging me off with a giggle.

  I meant to protest it was unintended, but thought that would make too much of the incident. Besides, Bel carried on talking as if nothing had happened. But she stayed out of my way for a few days after that, and I sank into a deep gloom. Richard kept asking me why I looked so glum. I didn’t want to tell him. I felt guilty and I didn’t know why. Had I revealed my feelings for Bel too obviously? Had she really thought I’d tried to embrace her? Perhaps we shouldn’t even have been there, almost alone on deck at twilight?

  Then one bright morning I saw three porpoises sporting just before the bow, weaving in and out of the water in an intricate dance. Bel was up on deck taking the air, and without thinking I called her over, before hurrying off on my duties. She stayed for a good while, laughing to herself, mesmerised by the sight.

  Later that day, she came over when she saw me on the deck. ‘Thanks, Sam, for showing me those big fish this morning. They were marvellous.’ I had been forgiven.

  By strange coincidence the Captain called Richard and I to his cabin the next morning. ‘Mrs Evison here is worried that you boys might be up to something with the girls,’ he said.

  ‘Aye,’ said Mrs Evison, who was sitting by the window. ‘Especially Richard here and Miss Lizzie.’

  Richard blushed deep crimson. ‘My intentions towards Miss Borrow are honourable, Mrs Evison,’ he spluttered.

  She gave a dull chuckle. ‘There’s as much chance of that as getting drunk on brandy mince pies.’

  Richard was affronted. ‘I can assure you –’

  She cut him off. ‘You can talk with the girls as much as you like, there’s precious little else to do on a long voyage. But if I catch even a whisper of a rumour of any carrying on, then your wedding tackle will be dangling from the mizzen yard.’

  Richard was too stunned to reply.

  Then she turned to me. ‘Don’t you go getting any ideas about Miss Sparke either.’

  Now it was my turn to blush. I nearly said, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be getting so much as a peck on the cheek from Miss Sparke’, but I held my tongue.

  ‘Once a girl is ruined she’s as good as finished in society,’ said Mrs Evison, trying to justify our scolding. ‘And you’ll never see a lady’s maid with a baby. I like those two girls and I’m making it my business to look after them. So, think on, boys. Think on.’

  We were dismissed. Back on deck we giggled like naughty schoolboys. ‘Wedding tackle!’ said Richard with a snigger. He’d never heard that one before.

  I don’t know whether the fear of pirate attack had made him uneasy but Lieutenant Hossack’s behaviour grew more brutal and objectionable by the day. Every order that was not obeyed in an instant was met by violence. I noticed Captain Evison having a quiet word with him on the quarterdeck, and wondered if he was telling his Lieutenant to moderate his behaviour. Hossack had taken to waiting at the foot of a mast, whenever men had been sent to lengthen or shorten the sail, and hitting the last man down from the tops. It seemed only a matter of time before one of them would slip in his haste to return to the deck and plunge to his death. Hossack also made a habit of hitting the last man on deck when all hands were called.

  One dark evening, when a storm was brewing, we were all ordered up and rushed from our bunks to shorten the sails. Hossack was there, by the forward companionway, waiting for the last man to come out to the weather deck. I rushed past him and into the blackest night I had seen for months. A new moon and cloudy sky meant you could barely see your hand in front of your face. Was I the last one? I expected him to hit me, but someone else was clattering up the companionway behind me.

  Hossack punched the man who came after, telling him he was a ‘tardy sluggard’. His victim immediately hit back with a punch that floored the Lieutenant. ‘You’ll be flogged for this,’ Hossack shouted indignantly from the deck.

  ‘I don’t think so, Lieutenant,’ said Captain Evison, for it was him Hossack had hit. ‘In fact, I understand striking the Captain is a capital offence.’

  Every man on deck heard this exchange. I supposed the two of them sorted out the matter between them, but from then on, the beating stopped, although Hossack would still bellow at us as if we were cattle on the way to market.

  CHAPTER 4

  ‘Run Out the Guns!’

  Shortly after noon, a fortnight into our voyage through the islands, the lookout called, ‘Ship off the starboard bow.’ We ran over to the rail to see what was approaching. Sailing out from the bay of a nearby island was a fair-sized prau, as I had learned the natives called their sailing boats. There was only one, which was a relief, as Garrick had told us pirates often attacked in fleets of as many as fifty ships.

  The vessel was making a line for us. ‘Run out the guns,’ said Evison. He was taking no chances. Then he said, ‘Hove to.’ There we sat, drifting in the water. The heat was tempered by a mild breeze, and it was pleasant to do nothing for the ten minutes it took the prau to come up alongside us. Evison beckoned me over and told me to fetch a musket from th
e armoury and go to the top main royal. ‘If you see anything suspicious, take a pot shot. Don’t be too careless though. If they’re just merchants, I don’t want to frighten them off.’

  The prau grew closer. Both bow and stern were carved to a sharp, almost vertical, point and the boat was painted a beautiful blue and red. ‘State your business,’ shouted Evison when we were in hailing distance. There was only a scattering of men aboard the prau – at least on the upper deck. I thought perhaps there might be more in the hull and scanned their flanks for evidence of guns pointing at us.

  Most of the crew wore only loincloths on their spindly bodies, but then a fellow wearing a fine silk robe emerged from a covered structure at the stern. He shouted over, ‘Cloves, pepper. We trade for goods or money.’

  Evison took his time replying. ‘We’ll come over.’ Then he despatched Hossack to oversee the launch of the Orion’s cutter. I was summoned down from the mast and told to join the crew of one of our starboard guns. ‘Bring him over here with a sample of his wares,’ I heard the Captain say to Hossack. He was still being careful.

  The merchant brought across two small barrels of goods. Evison and he greeted each other formally and I sensed a growing trust between them. Although a native, he spoke enough English to begin a lively conversation and goods were offered for sampling. I watched with fascination as Evison sank his arm into a barrel of spices, took out a handful near the bottom, and sniffed and tasted the wares. Maybe one day I would have the skill and experience he obviously possessed.

  The Captain nodded and the merchant smiled. They haggled awhile, then the fellow called over to his ship. A few minutes later she was nestling up to our starboard side. While some of us stood by our guns, the rest of the crew helped to haul a dozen barrels aboard. Evison inspected each one, and seemed well pleased with this unexpected opportunity. The business was completed by mid-afternoon and the prau headed back to the bay.

  I expected us to sail away, but Evison announced we would wait for the merchant to return with more of his goods. ‘Fine nutmeg and ginger he tells me, and at a very favourable price.’

  I supposed this was the way the Captain preferred to trade, away from harbour officials who might question his lack of licence.

  ‘I don’t want us getting careless though,’ he warned. ‘They can be a treacherous bunch these islanders, so we shall keep a full complement of men on the guns and take all the usual precautions. We shall stay here until midnight and then sail on if he doesn’t return by then.’

  It was a tense afternoon, sitting there waiting. In these waters it felt safer to be forever moving forward. Over supper the men echoed what Garrick had told us about the pirates here. When they attacked, they rarely left a soul alive. There were exceptions. ‘I heard they sometimes just mutilate all that are still alive,’ said Thomas Bagley. ‘Cut their hamstrings or worse.’ I was sick of this conversation and wanted to hear no more. But I knew Richard and I had made a bad start with our crewmates so thought it best to say nothing.

  Bagley perked up. ‘Now here’s a juicy piece of tittletattle,’ he said. ‘I heard Hossack was captured by pirates in these waters a few years back. They stripped him naked and shaved his head.’ Everyone laughed out loud at that indignity. ‘Then they sold him as a slave. Lucky bugger was bought by a Chinaman who spoke English – he was a trader too. He set the Lieutenant free, worse luck for the rest of us.’

  Bagley’s story cheered everyone up. We went back to our duties feeling perkier. No wonder Hossack was feeling edgy.

  The breeze dropped a little as the sun sank into the horizon. Night fell and the sky grew dark once clouds obscured the moon. The heat seemed to settle over us like a wet cloth, and the darkness around the ship took on a velvet, impenetrable quality. Another storm was brewing.

  The passengers retired to bed, certain that they had seen the last of the day’s excitement.

  As we waited for the merchant’s return, Hossack made his rounds far more frequently than every quarter hour. He and Evison were repeatedly found in deep discussion. Halfway through the evening Evison gave the command to raise the anchor. We would drift a little, to be sure, but he was preparing for a swift departure.

  ‘What’s keeping them?’ said Richard, who was on night watch with me. He was anxious too. ‘It’s a calm night. The sea’s as flat as a pancake. They should have returned by now.’ He yawned loudly. ‘I need my bed.’

  To the east the sky began to rumble. ‘Maybe they’re afraid of being caught in a storm?’ I said.

  My suggestion hung unanswered in the air.

  ‘Look, there’s a light,’ said Richard. ‘They’re coming back.’ Half a mile away, a single lantern could be seen swinging through the night, its reflection clear in the water beneath the bow of the vessel that carried it.

  ‘Good,’ said Garrick. ‘Let’s hope this business is over quickly so we can be on our way. We need to make the most of these night breezes. They’re often gone by daybreak and we’ll find ourselves becalmed.’

  As the light grew nearer, the storm did too. Thunder began to rumble ominously in the distance. I welcomed it. The rain would bring relief from the stifling heat. When the merchant ship was two hundred yards or so off, a flash of lightning away to the east fleetingly lit the sea around us. There behind the prau were two larger vessels. They were loaded to the gunnels with men, their scimitars and muskets outlined in an instant. ‘They’re pirates!’ I shouted. ‘There’s two other ships coming.’

  Evison turned at once and hushed me. ‘Are you sure, Witchall?’ he said.

  ‘I swear it.’ There was no mistaking the purpose of those dark silhouettes.

  The Captain seemed unperturbed by this sudden reversal of fortune. I admired his courage, for I was already feeling frightened. I knew these pirates would not obey the rules of war and we would be fighting for our lives.

  He stared into the emptiness. ‘I can’t see any other vessels, but if they’re not carrying lights then we can be fairly certain they mean to do us mischief. Call all hands on deck and man the guns. Load them with grapeshot, every last one. Put word out to the male passengers. Anyone who can handle a musket should report to me immediately. I want this done as quietly as possible. We must make them think we know nothing of their approach.’

  There followed a frantic five minutes of muffled activity. ‘As soon as we fire our broadside we must make sail,’ said Evison to us all. With only thirty men in the crew we would scarcely be able to reload before the pirates were upon us. Judging by the fleeting glimpse I had gained, we were terribly outnumbered. How I longed to be aboard a Navy vessel with topmen to attend to sails whilst the rest of us manned the guns.

  We crouched by our cannons, staring through gun ports into the blackness, not knowing where our targets might be. ‘They could be anywhere by now, those other ships,’ said Richard.

  Minutes passed. The light grew nearer – close enough for us to see the outline of the bow. Still we could not see the other ships. I began to doubt my own vision. Then the sky flashed again and there they were – two other vessels close behind the first. Plenty saw them that time.

  Evison quietly issued orders to his crew. ‘Lay your guns towards the light and wait for my command to fire.’ Then he called out across the water.

  ‘Vessel on the starboard bow. Declare yourself.’

  A voice replied, ‘Good captain. Is your cloves.’

  They hadn’t even bothered to get their story straight. We were expecting nutmeg and ginger.

  ‘Why are the two ships with you not carrying lights?’ shouted Evison.

  ‘No two ships,’ said the voice sharply. ‘We come with cloves.’ Then the light went out.

  That was all the proof he needed. Evison drew his cutlass and held it up. ‘On my command, fire,’ he said in hushed tones, ‘then go at once to let down the sails.’

  He waited only another few seconds, as men grunted and strained to shift the heavy cannons as best they could towards the general area of t
he approaching ships. This would be our one chance. The cutlass came down. The Orion shook with our broadside. Momentarily deaf from the noise, we raced up the ratlines to lower sail as fast as we could.

  As my hearing returned, I could hear angry shouting amid the screams of the wounded. At least some of our shot had found its target. It felt as if we had stirred up a wasps’ nest. ‘Let’s hope there’s enough wind to carry us away,’ I said to Richard. We could still not see behind us.

  There, high up in the sails, I saw musket flashes from the praus and shots whistled past my ears. The handful of men on our quarterdeck returned fire. The Orion lurched forward as the wind filled her sails. ‘All hands to the guns,’ barked Evison into a speaking trumpet, loud and clear across the water. ‘Grapeshot. Rapid fire.’ He was bluffing. With so few of us it would take five minutes at least to reload these guns. But it might make the pirates think twice about getting close to us.

  Then he beckoned his crew together. ‘Just man the two starboard guns nearest the stern, and the two stern chasers. The more shot we can get off at them the better.’

  The rain began to pelt down. The wind picked up. The storm was coming closer but the elements were in our favour. Six of us manned the stern chaser on the larboard side of the rudder. Whenever we saw our quarry in a lightning flash, we fired a round of grapeshot. We were getting away and they had no big guns to punish us. We would have been done for though, if they had got close enough to board us.

  We sailed on. I was glad we were on our way. If one lot of pirates felt safe enough operating in these waters, then who was to say there wouldn’t be more. Ahead lay Coupang, where Evison had announced he would be going ashore, and Richard would be leaving.

  For now, I was the hero of the hour. Seeing the pirates coming, I had saved the ship from a surprise attack. Several men who had previously ignored or jostled me clapped me on the shoulder to thank me. Something good had come of this encounter after all and in the days that followed there seemed to be a grudging acceptance of us among the crew.