Courtenay and the Mercenaries

by Brian Withecombe

  “Yes sir.” Pountney smiled. It sounded like ‘Of course!”

  “Very well. watch for my signal.”

  The ex-French corvette was showing no sign of deviating from her course, and Justify with the wind behind her was tearing towards her. Pountney saw the corvette still had her starboard battery run out, and she was clearly intending to engage, despite the fact a large White Ensign was streaming from the gaff. He glanced astern as a look-out called down that Tiger was entering the bay fast and smiled as he imagined her Captain urging his men to greater efforts to get where the action was going to be. He looked again at Dolphin and his heart sank as he saw her listing heavily to starboard, with men jumping into the water and others throwing items overboard that would float. What would make it worse was the fact that the wind had pushed her further on-shore and the chances were she would not sink entirely. but part of what was left of her upper works would be above water at low tide.

  He turned his attention back to the corvette. They would soon cross bowsprits and he steeled himself for what was to come because the ex-French ship would out-gun his small command, and might cause serious damage. He had a sudden mental image of his ship ending up a wreck like the proud schooner, but shook himself out of it. “Standby Mr Courtenay! On the uproll lads!” He waited as the corvette came past on the other tack, then dropped his arm.

  The brig’s starboard side exploded in flame and smoke as the guns fired, and at the same time the corvette replied. Courtenay on the gun-deck heard the whine of balls overhead, and felt the deck rebound as some balls smashed inboard, but none of the guns were damaged and there were no casualties. He looked over the side as the corvette sailed clear, and half-expected her to reduce sail and pound them again, but he saw they had in fact wounded some of the rigging, and one topmast appeared to be teetering. He also noticed that the ship was hurriedly changing tack, turning to port to get the wind firmly in her sails, and instead of coming about to take them from port, she was soon observed to be running to the south with all sails set. When he looked to see the reason why, he smiled broadly. Tiger was thrashing towards them with all sails set to the royals, showing her teeth and ready to engage the corvette. He climbed back onto the quarterdeck and looked at his Captain. “I hope Captain Coles remembers those shoals and the bar sir. He is tacking to intercept the corvette, to cut off her escape route.”

  “I am sure he does Mr Courtenay, from what I have heard of Harry Coles. Let us see, eh?” They both looked astern, and sure enough, Tiger had tacked fairly sharply to starboard to avoid the underwater dangers. They then looked at the corvette, and it was obvious to them both that its Captain also knew of the bar and the shoals, because he had tacked round to port, to move further back towards the shore, and then tacked sharply to starboard around the bar. The channel actually ran quite close to the shoreline, but there were no gun batteries to oppose it, so the corvette was unmolested as it made its way through the channel. Tiger, however, was also now well clear of the bar to seaward and had tacked to port to follow the corvette, Harry Coles no doubt hoping he would be able to bring the ex-Frenchie to battle further along the coastline.

  Courtenay, however, on his flagship, had other ideas. “Much as I would like to see Harry Coles take that bastard, I wish to find out more about the situation here before I start dividing our squadron. Send Tiger the recall, if you please Mr Wetherby.”

  “Aye aye sir.”

  “Harry will not like that.” said Fenwick quietly.

  “I know, and that corvette would have fallen to his fine ship, of that I have no doubt at all, but I wish to arrive as a squadron together. There will be time a-plenty in the future to lay that one by the heels, I am thinking.”

  “Tiger has acknowledged sir.”

  “Very well. Let us move closer in and see what happened to Mr Enderby and his lads.”

  In the meantime, Justify had already reached the stricken ship and had lowered some boats for the survivors. They were brought aboard and some were in a bad way, but the brig did not carry a surgeon, and therefore medical help was badly needed. Lieutenant Enderby was not one of the survivors.

  Pountney made a signal requesting medical assistance and then dropped anchor whilst he waited for the rest of the squadron to arrive. When it did, the next signal from the Admiral surprised him…for a few moments. “Standby to receive the Admiral” Even some of the men could not believe it.

  “The Admiral’s comin’ ‘ere? Bloody hell lads, whatever next?” The sailor who spoke saw Edward Courtenay looking at him and blushed under his deep tan. “Beggin’ yer pardon Mr Courtenay sir, but…”

  Edward Courtenay did not feel much like smiling after seeing what had happened to the schooner at the hands of a ship that had not even carried any colours. “It is of no matter Reed. I am as surprised perhaps as you and the lads are. I am however of the view that the Admiral wishes to find out what happened as soon as possible.”

  “Aye sir.”

  Most of the crew watched as the Admiral’s barge was lowered from the Alexander and was soon speeding across the narrow strip of water towards the brig. As it grew closer, Courtenay saw not only his father, his Flag-lieutenant and Alex Trafford, as was to be expected, but a man who clearly was the flagship’s surgeon. He was a somewhat sour-faced man called Prescot. The barge hooked on, and in a couple of seconds, the side-party was rendering honours to the Vice-admiral who stepped onto the deck, lifting his hat to the quarterdeck. Pountney was there, naturally, to greet him.

  “Hello again Commander. I am glad to see your ship has seemingly escaped unscathed from its brief fight?”

  “No real damage and no casualties sir, but I regret to report that is not the case with the poor men from the Dolphin. “

  “I have brought Mr Prescot from the flagship. He will see to the injured men. Mr Enderby?”

  “I regret to have to say that he did not number among the survivors sir. As I understand it, he was killed when the mainmast came down.”

  “Have you questioned anyone yet as to what happened Commander?”

  “No sir. I thought it best to wait for you.”

  “Thank you. Now then, please take me and Mr Prescot here to where the survivors are to enable me to have some words with them. I am sure a tot or two would not go amiss?”

  “I have already issued instructions accordingly sir.”

  “Good man. Very well, lead on, if you please.” He looked around as Pountney ducked down a companion, and saw Edward looking at him. He mouthed, “Speak with you later” then he too was going below. Trafford came up through the entry port and crossed to Edward’s side.

  “All all right with you Mr Courtenay, after that little fight?”

  Edward smiled at the big cox’n. “I am fine thank you Alex.”

  “He’ll find time to speak to you later. He’s wanting to find out more about what happened first. Leave him to do his job.”

  “Lieutenant Enderby was not with the survivors Alex. It could have been me on that schooner.”

  Trafford touched his arm very lightly. “But it weren’t, were it?”

  Later, back on Alexander Courtenay was explaining to Fenwick what had apparently happened when Dolphin was preparing to heave-to just off the mouth of the river, prior to making the junction with the rest of her squadron.

  “The schooner’s Acting-sailing master, a Master’s Mate name of Stokes, said that Lieutenant Enderby had given orders for the schooner to heave-to and put down an anchor to await our arrival, when a strange ship was sighted coming out of the mouth of the river. Stokes was also of the view expressed by Commander Pountney that she was a former French corvette. Jonathan Pountney also told me that he noted the name of the ship as she tacked to turn away. He is of the view, and I agree, that the blue ship did not realise there was another British ship entering the bay, otherwise probably its Captain would not have engaged the schooner, and he must have been even more surprised when after engaging Justify Harry appeared in his frigate!. This man
Stokes said that as soon as the corvette, which by the way is the Majestie, saw Dolphin show its colours and signal that she was to heave-to, she opened her ports, ran out and fired. Clearly, she had come prepared for trouble. Even bows on to the corvette, the schooner stood not a chance. I have a feeling we will meet up with that corvette again. She seems to fit in to the pattern here. She is clearly the ship which that fisherman saw attack his village.”

  “What do we do about the schooner Giles?” asked Fenwick. “We cannot leave her as she is. Her top works will be visible at low tide.”

  “Next low tide, send your Gunner into her and blow her apart, unless your Bosun is of the opinion she can be saved, of course. If she can, we may be able to refloat her and carry out repairs.”

  “I will have a word with Mr Harvey. If anyone can save her, it will be him.”

  “Very well James, I shall leave that to you. If Mr Harvey is of the view she can be salvaged and saved, you have my approval to attempt to do so.”

  “She will need a new Commanding Officer.”

  “We will come to that if we need to.”

  “Did you see Edward?”

  “Just for a few moments. I shall see more of him, time permitting, later. Very well, I wish to call on our settlement first and meet with this man Minter, and then go to see the King. Alexander will of course have to remain here, but judging by what happened today, that cannot be a bad thing. I shall shift my flag to Matilda. You will of course take command of the squadron whilst I am away. It might be an idea to place one of our frigates to seaward, as a guard ship.”

  “Very well. I shall signal Priestly and he can take his Arrow to the edge of the bay.”

  Courtenay arrived aboard the frigate Matilda and was greeted warmly by Martin Stevens, who introduced him to his First-lieutenant and the other officers, all of whom seemed absurdly young, but then he remembered that out of his flagship’s eight Lieutenants, most of them appeared to have just come out of the gunroom! He shook hands with the senior Warrant officers and impressed them by chatting to them for a few moments and leaving them with broad smiles on their weatherbeaten faces. None of them were used to any Admiral even deigning to exchange two words with them!

  “Very well Captain Stevens,” Courtenay said as they stood on the frigate’s quarterdeck, “up-anchor if you please and tack into the entrance to the river. I am reliably informed that any frigate should be able to reach right up to the Capital without any problems, so there should be plenty of depth for us. I wish to call on our ‘Colonial Officer’ at our trading post which is just a short distance from the river mouth. Mr Westerby? Make to Tiger and Justify, Follow father.”

  “Aye aye sir.”

  Courtenay stood to one side of the quarterdeck and watched the preparations for getting under way. It was not hard to imagine himself back aboard Aphrodite, which had been quite similar in size to Matilda and Trafford, watching him, knew what he was thinking.

  “Just like the old Aphrodite,sir, eh?”

  Courtenay nodded. “Yes, very similar apart from the fact she carried 36 guns, and Captain Stevens has two more. Not really much difference at the end of the day, I suppose.”

  Trafford nodded silently and looked aloft at the men there, high above the deck, as they began to lower the sails again. The frigate moved slowly towards the broad entrance to the river, with the other frigate and the brig following close astern. There were no navigational problems in the river mouth. Martin Stevens took his ship into the centre and tacked smartly to bring his ship and the two following in a line in the middle of the river and Courtenay noticed with a smile that despite the fact there was more than enough water under the keel, he had still placed a leadsman in the chains with his lead and line, just in case.

  “You do not trust the charts Martin?” Courtenay said to him very quietly.

  “You have taught me not to place my trust in somewhere I do not know. I am not taking any chances, not with you on board!” They laughed quietly together, and that brought a glance from Stevens’ First-lieutenant, a hard-faced man named Proctor. The look turned into a scowl when he saw both officers turn and share a comment with the burly Admiral’s coxswain. Trafford saw the look and inwardly sighed. Another bloody officer who did not believe a lower-deck man should share anything with his betters!

  The small flotilla moved at a snail’s pace along the river, but it was not long before there was a small procession of boats from the shore. They had been wary at first, but when the White Ensign had been seen, and they had realised these were friends, they were soon pushing off from the shoreline to greet the newcomers. Proctor cursed as he thought some were going to come too close and bump against his paintwork, but the men who manned their canoes knew what they were doing, and kept clear, whilst waving enthusiastically. Courtenay leant over the side and waved back, then saw the Trading Post come into view on the left-hand, north, bank.

  “Very well Captain. Heave-to when we are level with the Post if you please. Mr Wetherby? Signal our ships to do likewise.”

  “Aye aye sir.”

  “I’ll have the barge warped round to the entry port sir.” said Trafford. The barge had been towed behind the frigate as she had entered the river. Trafford was not going to allow his Admiral to go ashore in anything else.

  Martin Stevens insisted on sending a squad of Royal Marines into the barge, under their officer, a Captain Young. When he saw the Marines going down into the barge, Courtenay had turned to Stevens. “Do you think there may be hostiles around Martin?”

  “One never knows. In any case, as with the leadsman, I am not taking any chances!”

  Looking at the Trading Post from the barge as is sped towards the shoreline, Courtenay realised it was not really like any other trading post he had ever seen, and in his travels around the world, he had seen a few. This one was far more solidly constructed, mostly out of stone, and appeared very stout. There was an outer wall, which clearly had a platform around the inside, as patrolling soldiers could be seen. The gates at the front were extremely sturdy, and as the barge approached a short jetty, he could see that inside the compound there were a number of stone built buildings, one of which appeared to be a smaller version of a typical government residence. As the barge nestled alongside the piles, and the Royal Marines climbed out to form up, a small file of red-coated soldiers marched smartly through the open gates and down to the jetty. There was an officer at the head, and Trafford smiled as he saw the man almost stumble in surprise as he realised the Naval officer climbing out of the barge was a Vice-admiral. He slammed to attention as he stopped before Courtenay.

  “Good afternoon sir. I am Captain Horrocks of the 78th. I, er, we did not anticipate the arrival of the Navy sir!”

  Westerby stepped forward. “May I effect the introductions Captain? May I present Vice-admiral the Baron Courtenay of St Marychurch, commander of the squadron which has just arrived.”

  Horrocks’ eyes opened wide for just a moment. “Courtenay? I say, dashed honoured to meet with you my Lord. Your exploits are well known, however…”

  “I am pleased to meet you Captain. Unfortunately one of my ships, a schooner, had a meeting with a dark blue ship which showed no colours and which fired on her without any provocation, and she was sunk, but I am hopeful of refloating her. Now, I should like to meet with Mr Minter briefly to explain why I am here, and then I must attend upon the King.”

  “Mr Minter is not here my Lord. He is in fact at the Palace. He was not expecting to see any Navy ships so quickly. However, I am sure that our Colonial Officer will be pleased to see you. If you would like to follow me my Lord, I will introduce you.” A look of distaste appeared briefly on his face.

  “Marmaduke Spencer-White, is it not Captain?” said Courtenay, smiling briefly.

  “Yes sir. I suppose you were told of his appointment before you left?”

  “I was.” The look on his face prompted a confidence from the Army man.

  “He is not a popular man my Lord.” />
  “Of that I have no doubt whatsoever Captain! He is far from popular with me, I can assure you.”

  The procession wound its way through the gates and into the compound. Horrocks led Courtenay up to the steps of what was clearly the Residency, and had reached the top when the double doors at the front of the building opened and the hated man stepped out, smoking a cigar and with a sneer on his face. “Well, well, damme if it ain’t the famous Lord Courtenay. What are you doing here, Courtenay, could the Admiralty not find a better appointment for you?”

  “Shall we go inside, Spencer-White, or do you wish me to insult you here, in front of everyone?” The Marines’ Captain turned away hiding a smile, but Trafford just stood still, a broad smile on his face. Even Horrocks was struggling to keep a straight face. Spencer-White scowled and stamped his way inside the building, where it was delightfully cool after the heat outside.

  “Well, Courtenay, what are you doing here?” Spencer-White demanded.

  “It is Lord Courtenay to you, Spencer-White, and I am here on the orders of the Admiralty to find out what has been going on and to put a stop to the troubles. I was hoping to speak with Mr Minter, but I gather he is at the Palace, so that is where I shall now go, but I make this clear to you, so that there is no misunderstanding. I shall expect full and complete co-operation from you in regard to anything I request. You will co-operate, without asking damn-fool questions or seeking in any way, shape or form to obstruct me, clear? I am aware that is a last-ditch chance for you and by God, if you get in the way of me and my mission here, it will be the last position you hold anywhere!”