“He might just do that if we take this ship Giles.”
“Yes, I agree, which is why we will use one of our frigates. Flags! When is Captain Stevens next due to be within visual signalling distance?”
Wetherby did not even bother to consult his notes. “In two days’ time sir. Do you wish me to signal him that he is to report to you?”
“If you please Justin.” He turned to Fenwick. “I am sorry there is not a duty I can allot to your ship at the present James, but I have a thought in mind about a course of action where she will be an integral part.”
Fenwick grunted. “About time too. My lads are getting stale from want of any action.”
“Have no fear. I think that will change in fairly early course!”
Courtenay played with his pen for a moment, then looked at his Flag-captain. “How are the repairs to Dolphin progressing James?”
“Mr Harvey tells me the Carpenter has carried out good repairs to the shot holes and she is being pumped out at the moment. She needs to be dried out and then her mainmast has to be replaced. but I gather that problem will be overcome shortly, and hopefully we will soon have her back with us.”
“Excellent, in which case she will need some new hands and a new Commanding Officer. Have you given any thought to that?”
Fenwick smiled briefly. “As you know, Mr Irvine will not suit. We need a small-ships man, and my suggestion would be my Third-lieutenant, Marcus Law. He is a promising young officer and I think he has the right mentality.”
“Very well James, once we hear from Mr Harvey that the schooner is ship-shape again, you may tell this Mr Law of his new appointment. How short-handed will that leave you? I know you carry eight Lieutenants of course.”
“Yes, and I will act-up the senior Midshipman, Derek Sharp. Good lad. Ripe to sit his Board when the chance comes so the experience will do him no harm.”
“Excellent. Sup with me this evening James? I shall invite Justin and you may bring Mr Irvine if he can be spared from his duties?”
“I am sure that can be arranged, but what about Justify? She is back on station at the head of the Bimara, and….”
“And you thought it would be a good opportunity for me to see Edward? Very well, I will have a signal sent to her before it gets dark, which will be shortly. Thank you.”
NINE
Captain Kenneth Priestley walked onto the quarterdeck of his ship, H M frigate Arrow, of 36 guns and looked first of all at the binnacle, then the set of the sails, and finally at the sky overhead. An hour ago he had been on deck, exchanged a few words with his First-lieutenant, Thomas Hawkins, then gone below again. At that time the sky had been a deep blue, with a sea beneath the keel to match. Now, as he looked aloft, above the towering spire of the mainmast truck. all he could see was a mass of quick-moving low dark grey clouds and he did not like the direction the wind, which was increasing steadily, was coming from.
Arrow was about one hundred miles north of Bimara, almost at the north-westerly boundary of Balathia, and just a few miles away from the point where she would turn out to sea before retracing her course to the south and east. She was also just a few miles off-shore, and hereabouts the coast was rugged. He looked at his Sailing Master, who had also been looking at the wind and the clouds above and he could see the man was not happy either.
“What say you Mr McGwyver? We will have to alter course shortly is my thinking.”
McGwyver and Priestley went back a few years to the time when Priestley was appointed into the ship as its Captain. They had a good firm relationship and the Master was not backward in coming forward when he felt something ought to be said, no matter how experienced the Captain might be, and Priestley was. “Aye, I agree sir. The coast along here is bad, there’s that reef to think of further up-aways and that wind is veerin’. With respect sir, I think we ought to tack now, afore that wind gets too strong.”
“I agree with you. Mr Hawkins! Hands to the braces if you please, Standby to come about!”
The First-lieutenant touched his hat and turned to the rail, cupping his hands. Hawkins had been in the ship for eighteen months, and knew his Captain’s ways well. McGwyver nodded slowly as the lieutenant rapped out his orders and then looked again at the wind vane. He turned to the men at the wheel. “Bring her up lads, smack about it!”
The hands on the braces cast off the lashings and as the frigate beneath their feet started to come round to port, turning more in towards the wind as far as it could and which if they were not careful would have them on the rocks, The ship steadied, and the hands hauled on the yards to secure them, knowing full well that they would be changing course again shortly. The course now was to claw away from the rocky coastline, to ensure that with the wind veering into the direction it was, they would not be blown onto a lee shore. The ship was now moving away from the coastline, and as far out to sea as its crew could manage before they would have to tack again.
After another turn of the glass, McGwyver nodded. ‘”That’s better sir,. Clear o’ that coastline now and away from that outcrop.” Then the rain started. It came down in sheets, swamping everyone on deck and saturating their clothing in minutes. The wind increased, howling down on them, keening through the rigging. The frigate rose and fell with the waves, but nothing carried away, and no man was injured as she fought the wind and rain that threatened her very existence.
Priestley, McGwyver and Hawkins rode it out on the wind and rainswept quarterdeck, and Hawkins said later in the wardroom that he could have sworn at one stage he had heard his Captain laughing with the Sailing Master. The other lieutenants who shared the wardroom with him and the surgeon, laughed it off as being in his imagination, but Hawkins was sure he was right. It was as if Priestley had enjoyed pitting his ship against the elements.
Almost as soon as it had arrived, the vicious squall left them. Soon, with the decks steaming, the sun was out, blue sky was returning, and the wind had changed direction again and dropped. The hands smiled as they realised the short fight with Mother Nature was over, at least for the time being, and as the watch changed, the men that had endured the short storm filed thankfully below to find some dry clothing.
Priestley wiped his face with a towel his servant brought on deck for him and smiled at his Senior. “I know you like a smart ship Tom, but let the lads dry their clothing, eh? This sun will soon deal with that.”
“Aye aye sir.” Hawkins did indeed like a smart ship, but he did appreciate what the Captain was trying to do for the ship’s company. Below deck, they would stand little chance of drying their saturated clothing. On deck, it would soon dry in the tropical sunshine. Priestley nodded to the Third-lieutenant as he arrived to take over the watch, then went below.
Arrow was now on a short course to the south west and at the next turn of the glass, she would turn again to port to commence her run back down to Bimara. She was quite a bit off course, having had to claw her way out from the coastline to prevent being blown ashore if anything important had carried away. The storm had come out of the Atlantic, but had been fast-moving and was now somewhere over onto the African mainland. Priestley looked again at his chart, rubbing his chin to decide whether to keep more to the west of where he ought to be, or ‘cut the corner’ and head more directly for the next turning point on his patrol line. He looked up as there was a shout from the mainmast look-out.
“Deck there! Sail to the west’rd!”
He was on deck in seconds, looking up at the look-out and raising a questioning eyebrow at his Third-lieutenant, a young officer not long out of the Midshipmens’ berth. “Mr Clayton?”
“No more information yet sir, but…”
“Deck there! She be a brig sir! Looks like she’s got some damage!”
“Mr Clayton, aloft with you sir and let me have a further report. Do not hurry, just tell me what you see.”
“Aye aye sir!” The young lieutenant ran to the starboard ratlines and was soon swarming up them. McGwyver looked on and nodded with a
smile as he saw the youngster eschew the lubber’s hole and climb outwards to gain access to the look-out’s position in the crosstrees. Hawkins was back on deck, looking at his Captain.
“Look-out has sighted a brig Tom. Appears she may have been caught in that storm. Has some damage by the sound of it. Let us see what our Mr Clayton finds, shall we?”
Hawkins grinned and looked upwards. He did not have to wait very long because Clayton called down a report that confirmed what the look-out had seen, adding a few more details. It was what he said when he regained the deck that made Priestley’s ears prick up.
“Brig right enough sir, just as Maynard said. She seems to be pierced for about ten guns, but I do not know, there just seemed something odd about her. Sorry sir that I cannot say why, it is just that…. well, she is not showing any colours, and she has all the appearances of the type of ship we know slavers use. Sorry again sir, but when I was a snotty I served for a while on an anti-slavery sloop.”
“And she has suffered damage aloft?”
“Yes sir. Looks as if she has lost a yardarm and at least part of a topmast. She’s brig-rigged sir. Rigging looks damaged as well. I could see quite a few of her crew at work on it.”
“I see. Thank you Mr Clayton. I believe, Mr Hawkins, that we will run down on this brig and at least see if we can offer any assistance.”
“We will be further off our patrol line sir….” offered the First-lieutenant.”
“Yes Tom, I know that, but our Admiral will always accept that sometimes orders are to be disobeyed, if the reasons for doing so are appropriate, at least, I hope that is what he would say! From what I know of Vice-admiral Courtenay I would imagine he has probably disobeyed a few in his time!” He nodded. “Very well, alter course and we will close with her, but we will keep a close watch on her whilst we do so.”
“Are you anticipating trouble sir?”
“No Tom, I am not, but you never know and I am not going to take any chances. For all we know that chap was going to try to slip past us and cause some mischief on the Balathian coastline. It is our duty to inspect.”
Hawkins hid a smile. “Aye aye sir.”
Arrow altered course and headed for the brig the look-out had reported. As it grew closer, Priestley was able to examine it through his own glass from the quarterdeck and what he saw was the type of vessel that was agile and fast and very useful for trading. It would not be unusual for such a ship to carry cannon, as there were many so-called ‘buccaneers’ around who would be only too pleased to relieve such a ship of what might be a valuable cargo. With her speed and agility, together with some firepower, she should be able to take care of herself. At the moment however, she was hove-to and he could see clearly that men were splicing rigging and that a new yardarm was being hauled up to be fixed in place. He closed the glass with a snap. Like young Clayton, he sensed something was not right. He turned to Hawkins. “No noise Tom, but send the hands to quarters if you please. Load, but do not run out, and have the arms chest brought up. Tell off some men as boarders. Make sure they are armed with cutlasses and pistols and anything else they wish to carry.”
“You are expecting trouble sir!” said Hawkins.
“Possibly, but I do not intend to be caught unawares.”
It was another hour before Arrow could close with the strange ship sufficiently to enable Priestley to hail it. The frigate hove-to, rocking gently in the swell. Behind her bulwarks, her port-side battery was loaded and a party of men were crouching out of sight, armed to the teeth. Priestley sought out the Bosun. “Mr Cleverly, do we have anyone among the company who knows all about blackbirding?”
Cleverly rubbed his bristly chin. “Well let me see sir. One o’ my mates ‘as ‘ad quite a bit to do with ‘em, and I think Mr Clayton ‘as served on anti-slavery patrols?”
“Yes, he has. Very well Mr Cleverly, ask your man to report to Mr Clayton if you please.”
Cleverly gave him an odd look, but went to find his mate Fardon. You could smell a blackbirder a mile off. There was no smell coming from that ship! He shook his head. The Captain was being too careful.
“Mr Clayton, take charge of the boarding party if you please. Get aboard and see what you can find. The Bosun’s mate knows what to look for. Any problems, signal and I will send Mr Hawkins over. Understood?” Clayton nodded. “No heroics Mr Clayton now. That brig may be perfectly innocent.”
“But you do not think so sir?”
“Do you, even with your admitted limited experience of such matters?”
Clayton flushed beneath his tan. “No sir.”
Priestley smiled. “Then we are agreed. Ah, I think we are close enough to speak.” He went to the port side and cupped his hands. “Ahoy there! This is His Britannic Majesty’s frigate Arrow. Who are you and can we be of assistance to you?”
There was a faint reply, but Priestley’s keen eye picked out the fact that the working men were now moving a lot faster than they had been. They wanted to be away!
“Ahoy Arrow! This is the Mary Jane out of Charleston. Got caught in a bad storm a short while ago. Took us by surprise, I can tell you! Do not require any assistance. Let us not detain you!”
Priestley was not put off by the fact that on the face of it, the ship was probably an American vessel, but the man speaking had a marked British accent. That, in merchant ships that plied the Atlantic trade routes was hardly unusual. “Charleston eh?” he said to no-one in particular. “Big slave market in Charleston if I recall correctly?” This time he was looking at the Master.
“Aye sir, but she don’t have the smell of a blackbirder.” McGwyver replied. They were downwind of the ship and the smell would have been evident.
“That does not mean she is not.” Priestley turned back to the other ship. “Ahoy Mary Jane! I am sending a boarding party. We can at least see if we can assist you on your way.”
“We do not need any help! Keep away from this ship or I’ll have your commission, damn you!”
“You will standby for inspection. Any attempt to prevent my men boarding you will be dealt with severely!” He turned to Clayton. “Very well Mr Clayton, you may go. Listen to your instincts and to what Mr Fardon has to say. I understand he knows all the tricks of the trade.!”
“Aye aye sir.”
Five minutes later, the boat was pushing off from the frigate, whilst the gun-crews waited patiently. Hawkins noted a movement, and turned to Priestley, who smiled and said, “Yes Tom, she is going to try to make sail. She does not wish us to board her, does she? Very well, you may show our teeth!”
At Hawkins’ roar, the gunports suddenly opened along the frigate’s side and her battery was run out. Sixteen twelve-pounders were suddenly looking down the throat of the other ship. All movement aboard it suddenly ceased, but there was still a cry from it.
“Damn you for threatening an American ship! How dare you threaten me with your guns!”
“Then avast complaining and allow my men aboard, or by God, I will fire into you!”
The boat with Lieutenant Clayton and the boarders came alongside and the young officer was soon climbing the low side of the brig. He could be seen speaking with someone whom Priestley assumed was the Captain, and the boarding party fanned out along the gangway, ready for trouble. As Priestley watched, he saw the Bosun’s mate signal to two men to follow him and went to go below, only to be threatened by three of the brig’s crew, but when the boarding party drew their cutlasses and pointed pistols, resistance ceased and Fardon and his men disappeared below. Priestley turned to Hawkins. “Tom, ask Captain Reardon if he would send a squad of his bullocks over to help, would you? It is just this feeling….”
Hawkins smiled broadly. “He has had a squad ready and waiting ever since we came alongside sir. I will tell him he can go!”
Five more minutes and another boat left Arrow’s side, this time with a squad of red-coated Marines in it. There were yells clearly heard from the brig named Mary Jane but Captain Reardon and his Marines were
soon on the gangway, and the Marines had their Brown Bess muskets covering the brig’s crew. Priestley tensed as he saw the big Bosun’s mate re-appear, shaking his head. That first of all made Priestley think he had made a huge mistake and that he was going to be in serious trouble with his Admiral, if not the Admiralty, but then he saw Clayton pull a pistol out of his belt and point it at the brig’s Captain, and his boarding party took charge of some swivel guns and pointed them at the crew. He smiled. Clayton’s men had found something!
In the meantime, Giles Courtenay, with his Flag-lieutenant and Alex Trafford, had transferred to the frigate Miranda, Captain Martin Stevens, and were heading in the opposite direction to the original course adopted by Arrow, in other words to the south, and in particular to a stretch of coastline to the south of Mondiana. They were going after the dark-blue painted corvette to put her out of action.
For what Courtenay had in mind, he really needed once again a moonless night, or one where cloud covered any moon there was. Since there was not likely to be another moonless night for a while, he was left praying for some cloud cover. His plan was to attempt to take the corvette with a boat action, and to that end, he had brought with him some extra seamen from his flagship and some of her Royal Marines, led by a tough Sergeant. It would do the boat’s occupants no good at all to be pulling into the bay under the light of a harvest moon.
When they arrived in the vicinity of the bay where they knew Senora de Fuentes was hiding, Matilda kept well out to sea so as not to be seen. Not only would it ruin everything if the crew of the former French National corvette saw the frigate, but Courtenay did not wish anyone in Mondiana to know they were about either. It would be too easy to get a message to the ex-French ship warning its Captain of the fact there was a British frigate in the area.
Courtenay and the Mercenaries Page 15