by David O'Neil
“Clear for action, Mr. Forest-Bowers, if you please.”
“Sir! All hands, clear for action.”
The call was followed by the pound of feet, as the crew raced to their stations for going into action.
The three ships were closing, and it was with some surprise that Graham noticed that the French ships were making no attempt to evade the more heavily armed Racer.
The French corvette was showing her teeth, the row of open ports, all now showing the wicked shapes of the guns. The schooner was not well handled, and she had got herself in an awkward situation when coming about. Martin called to the Captain, “Sir, she is in irons.”
“Helm alee!” The Captain called. “Starboard broadside steady. Fire as you bear.”
The guns down the starboard side fired in turn bringing the three masts of the schooner down with a raffle of gear and smothering her battery of guns beneath the fallen sails.
The Captain was already concerned with the corvette. He called for starboard helm to bring the port broadside to bear on the corvette.
The corvette was right on the edge as she fired her first gun. The recoil was enough to cause her head to fall off exposing her bow to the guns of the Racer.
Graham did not need another invitation. He called, “Guns, as you bear.” The roar of the broadside guns as they fired, one by one, smashed the French ship, wounding her almost without response.
“Stand by boarding party, Mr. Forest-Bowers.”
The two ships came together. The grapnels flew, securing one to the other. With a roar the boarding party climbed over the piled hammocks at the bulwarks, and down onto the deck of the French ship.
The crew were scattered but they quickly came to oppose the boarders, and the fighting was savage. Martin found he was fighting for his life, the cutlass he had taken heavy in his hand. His clothing was spattered with blood from friend and foe alike. The battle raged back and forth, neither side seeming to be able to prevail. The impasse was broken when more men burst from below deck and joined the battle wielding broken pieces of wood as clubs, and captured weapons from the many dead and wounded on deck. Martin though at first that all was lost, until he realized that the men were attacking the French.
“Come on, Racers, we have them now.” They attacked with renewed vigour. The other men took up the cry Racer and pressed forward. The French seemed to lose heart and began backing off, throwing down their weapons. The Tricolor was pulled down. With a cheer the boarders celebrated the victory.
Martin returned to his ship and reported to the Captain. “It was close ,sir The prisoners held by the French made the difference.”
“Well done, Martin. What was the butcher bill? Do you know?”
“We lost twelve killed and twenty-two wounded. The surgeon thinks we will lose nine of the wounded. The recovered prisoners lost four men, but there were thirty of them with just the odd minor cuts and scratches. The corvette is the Hermione.”
“I’ve sent a party over to the schooner under Mr. Holmes. I would like you to join him and report the condition of the ship as soon as possible.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Martin touched his hat and called for the crew of the jollyboat to take him over to the schooner.
The Oriele was a ship that had been obtained from the Americans. She had been pierced for ten guns, and used as a privateer. Despite the loss of her masts, she was otherwise quite seaworthy. When Martin boarded the Master had already started the crew on fishing the first of the masts to the stump of the foremast.
The contents of the hold were of interest. The ship had obviously taken a valuable prize. There was, apart from several barrels of wine, a box of treasure in the form of jewellery and gold ornaments and a stack of silver bars. The remaining space was taken up with bales of cloth of varying quality.
When Martin reported to the Captain, the decision was taken to move the silver and valuables to HMS Racer. The remainder was left in the Oriele’s hold.
It was no great surprise for Martin to find himself in command of one of the prizes. He was given the Hermione of 28 guns and normally a crew of at least one hundred and thirty.
With just sixty men the ship was a lot to handle, but once the damage to the fore end had been patched, the ship was in condition to sail at least.
Captain Graham decided to take the two prizes under his protection back to Palermo. There he could either gain more men, or at least get his own crew back. And it was with some relief that the three ships made it safely to harbor.
They found considerable help in the form of repairs to the prizes, but were ordered by the port captain to carry the prizes to Gibraltar, as there was no arrangement for the disposal of such craft in the port. The prisoners were taken off however. For once there were replacement seamen to fill out the crews for the two prizes. The loss of a ship of the line due to gun damage, had exposed concealed rot in her main timbers, this meant the entire crew had been thrown on the beach, awaiting repatriation.
The senior officers of the condemned ship were all gone. Though there were lieutenants senior to Martin ashore, Captain Graham selected juniors only, preferring his own people to retain command until the ships were delivered. Thus Martin found himself with two junior lieutenants and two midshipmen and a full crew of seamen. His nucleus from the Racer soon had them organized into watches. Neither of the lieutenants had had serious responsibility before in the hierarchy of the 74 gun ship they had served.
While the repairs to both prizes were carried out, Martin had his crew practice working together with their new divisional officers. This allowed both young men to learn a little of what they would be required to do in the cramped confines of the corvette. He himself met James Cameron and Will Cope for the first time, two men who would became his close friends thereafter.
By the end of the two weeks refitting the Hermione, the crew were working together and all four of the new occupants of the gunroom, and the afterguard, were comfortable in the confines of the small frigate.
The trio of ships left Naples with despatches for Gibraltar, and a recommendation for the inclusion of the 28 gun ship and the schooner in the fleet.
For Captain Graham there was a certain pride in leading his own small command through hazardous waters. It was with certain hopes, that they sailed in a wide line abreast to cover as much of the sea as possible, in the search for enemy sail.
It was two days before they spotted sail. The Oriole, sailing on the starboard of the line, spotted topsails, ahead on her starboard bow. Her signals brought the others to join her in the chase though it had to be said that Oriole had the legs of both other ships.
When the chase was brought into view, it appeared to be more than the three could seriously bring to battle. Their quarry was a 36gun frigate with a convoy of twelve merchantmen, all under the Tricolor.
The signal went out to the Oriole pass to the other side of the convoy, and cut out as many ships as possible. To Hermione it was to keep the wind over the frigate. Martin called for the guns to be manned and run out. The rumble of the iron wheels on the decks reverberated through the ship. Below in the orlop the surgeon prepared his instruments, while his assistant scrubbed the table, borrowed from the officer’s quarters for his purpose.
The French frigate cleared for action, the sound of the drum beating to quarters came across the water, as she tried to manoeuvre into the windward position.
Captain Graham took the Racer across the stern of the Frenchman. The name of the ship Niobe was picked out in gold, among the elaborate carved and gilded frame, beneath the stern windows. The guns of the British frigate spoke in turn as she crossed behind the Frenchman. Graham felt a certain regret as the elaborate gilded stern carving was shattered and torn by the broadside guns of Racer as she passed. The guns of Hermione joined the action, as she clawed upwind to hold her place to windward of the French frigate.
Now the guns of the Niobe joined the chorus, adding their noise to the sounds of battle.
The other si
de of the convoy Oriole was cutting out merchantmen. She fired a gun to emphasise her instructions to a recalcitrant captain. The six ships already under her control were now sailing a divergent course to the remainder of the convoy.
Hermione with guns reloaded and run out, was causing the Niobe a lot of trouble. Her speed and agility were keeping the frigate distracted. So Racer diverted and chased four more ships from the convoy under the threat of her guns.
Oriole was now herding her six captive ships back on the eastward course, with Racer encouraging his four to join her. The midshipman, handling signals, called Martin’s attention to the flag flying at the peak from the Racer. It was the agreed recall. Martin studied the position of the French frigate and his own situation. Making his decision he called to change course. As the ship’s head swung round towards the frigate, the Frenchman reacted, turning to bring his broadside to bear. Martin waited, watching the relative movements of the two ships until. “All hands, ready to come about! Lee ho….! Wheel to port, handsomely there. Bring her round. Starboard broadside, as you bear. Fire!” The ship, making her final turn to break off the action, gave the frigate one last sting.
The Hermione rapidly caught the escaping convoy and her two consorts. She joined them in shepherding the merchantmen toward Gibraltar, while the French frigate licked her wounds and made do with her two remaining ships.
In discussion at a later date, Captain Graham suggested that the Niobe had been commanded by a hurriedly promoted junior officer, to replace a Royalist Captain. They had the good fortune to be able to take advantage of the Captain’s inexperience.
In Gibraltar the convoy and the two prizes created a sensation. As anticipated, the corvette and the schooner were both bought in by the Navy. The merchantmen were mainly purchased by private traders, and their cargoes were auctioned in the traditional manner.
Martin, already aware of his increasing financial status, was richer by a considerable amount. His share of the prize money, according to his agent had increased his wealth to a sum he could never have dreamed of as a boy. Now approaching his eighteenth birthday, he still had difficulty taking it all in. The real prize had been the silver bullion, and treasure chest of gold and jewellery. When added to the prizes taken earlier, his fortune was now over £25,000. The agent for Cox’s in Gibraltar, having collected his share, assured him that the funds would be available wherever he needed to draw upon them.
Being honest with himself, Martin did not really appreciate what his wealth meant in terms of his shore life. Thus he disregarded the wealth he had acquired, grateful that he could afford new uniforms, and some small extra things that made life a little less spartan. The fact was that his body had filled out on what had been a rather bony frame. His clothes it seemed, had shrunk accordingly.
He did note that his credit was accepted by Gieves in Gibraltar with alacrity. The attention given to the fit and cut of his new uniforms was surprising in view of his lowly rank.
The command of HMS Hermione went to a favored senior Lieutenant on the staff of the Admiral. For Martin, the experience of command, in addition to his earlier stint, had given him a maturity beyond his years.
Lieutenant Carrington had been given command of the schooner. Now HMS Oriole, she was detached to carry despatches to Portsmouth. HMS Racer returned to her duties in the eastern Mediterranean, where, after reporting to Palermo, she was ordered to collect the agents dropped off at the start of her commission in the area.
There were reports of French shipping in the area, so the lookouts were increased for the journey to the Egyptian coast. As it happened there were no contacts made on the outward journey.
The boat approached the land, aiming for the glimmer of a signal lantern shaded on the shore side.
As the keel scraped across the sand, Martin jumped ashore barefoot, pistol in one hand, the painter in the other. Four crew members followed him, hauling the boat quietly further up the beach.
Martin cautiously approached the lantern, which was about fifty yards along the shore to the right of the boat landing spot. As he neared the lantern, he made out the dark group of people, behind the signal. As he got nearer on silent bare feet, he was aware of the people talking, among them the voice of Alouette. He stopped, listening. She was speaking in slow French. She was saying was there was no point in all this silly cloak and dagger business. She was not a spy, nor were her friends, being held in the hut at the top of the beach.
Martin stopped and retreated back to the boat. There were twelve men in the boat and all carried arms. He called them out of the boat and had them all prepare to use their knives. It was imperative that they did not warn the other party of their presence.
He then led the men to the top of the beach and scouted along to find the hut mentioned by the woman. He was convinced that the comment had been a warning.
He found the hut, and his men scattered surrounding the small building to ensure there was no ambush. Martin approached the doorway that showed up as a darker patch on the wall of the building.
He tapped on the door.
“Qui est là?”
“C’est moi” Martin replied.
The door opened quietly and Martin stepped into the small hut. There was a dim light in the corner and two men were seated beneath the dim glow.
Another man was standing behind the door. As Martin stepped in, he moved. The knife in Martin’s hand pricked him in the throat. “Make no sound or you are dead.”
The bosun, Carter, stepped over to the other man, who had frozen on hearing Martin’s voice. He had noted the immediate compliance by his companion. The thud of the club in Carter’s hand hitting the head of the Frenchman was followed by the lowering of the man’s slack body to the ground.
“Take this one, Carter.” Martin ordered, and went to the two men tied and gagged beneath the lamp. “Are you all right?” He asked.
“Yes, but Alouette...!”
“We will fetch her now.” Martin reassured him.
“Bosun, have the men take this pair to the boat, with the prisoners. Bring four men back to collect the lady.”
Carter grinned, “Aye, aye, sir. Wallace, Grimes, Pierce and Toby, you’re with me. Quiet now!
“Andrews take these two gentlemen and the prisoners to the boat.”
“What do I do then, bosun?” Andrews asked.
“Bloody wait for us.”
Martin smiled quietly and moved off silently over the sand. The party beside the lamp was getting impatient. Alouette could be heard saying, “I told you there was nothing here.”
There was the sound of a slap, and a small cry. Then four men and the drooping figure of the woman appeared out of the darkness.
The four seamen did not hesitate, Martin caught Alouette as she fell from the grip of the man, who appeared to be in charge of the group.
“Take him.” Martin ordered, indicating the man. The others were all dead. Picking up the woman in his arms, Martin carried her back to the boat where the others waited.
He climbed in and settled in the stern with the woman on his knee, her head against his shoulder.
“Back to the ship.” he ordered.
Alouette recovered on the way back to the ship. She woke, feeling the fabric of Martin’s coat against her cheek. She did not move while she worked out where she was and that she was safe. Then she relaxed and smiled to herself snuggling slightly in Martin’s embrace, safe and secure once more.
Chapter twelve
Command
1798 February
The ship rose easily on the long swell. A storm at the other end of the inland sea, making itself felt 2000 miles away. As the ship rose on the next crest the voice of the lookout at the masthead called. “Sail ho! Fine on the starboard bow.”
“Mr. Brown, take my telescope to the masthead and tell me what you see.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Looping the strap of the leather holder around his shoulder he leapt on to the standing rigging shrouds and made his way up to the main m
ast head. There he braced himself against the sway of the ship, and took out the telescope focussing it on the scrap of white on the horizon, just to starboard of the bowsprit.
For some minutes he studied the appearing and disappearing scrap. Then he closed the telescope and put it away. “It is the French Frigate, Niobe, sir, the ship with the convoy.”
The Captain nodded thoughtfully. “Martin, I am feeling it it’s time for the crew to get some real exercise. I am fed up wasting powder in practice. So how say you?”
“Why I say, yes. It is a good time to fight, and a good day for it too.”
“Call the men aft.”
Martin was surprised. Captain Graham was not the sort of captain that liked to stir the men to effort. He always expected it to be forthcoming regardless.
With the men gathered aft Graham said, “You may recall we took a convoy on our way to Gibraltar. Well, we have in sight the frigate that was escorting those ships. She is a little bigger than us, though I believe we have the legs of her. I also think we can give two broadsides to her one. She will make a prize worth taking. So let us teach them how we do things in Britain.
The men cheered. Their Captain was popular, and they knew they could depend on him.
The distance between the two ships reduced. Both ships slowed, as they approached each other, manoeuvring to get the advantage of the up-wind position. The first gun was fired four hours after the ships first sighted each other. The action finished three hours later, in the fast falling night. Both ships had suffered, but the Frenchman had come off worse. Her foremast was lying at an angle across the foc’sle, and the first three guns of her port broadside were impossible to serve, her anchor was hanging down into the water and there were runnels of blood down her side showing the list she had, from taking in water. The clank of the pumps was loud across the gap between the two ships.
