by Cal Clement
A woman approached Lilith, eyeing her over with an inquisitive look. Her mulatto complexion was only slightly darker than Lilith’s and her hair was wrapped up in a bandanna. She wore ragged pants over boots that looked a size too big and a torn-up sailcloth shirt that revealed several scars on her torso.
“You’re new. Pretty thing, but that won’t do a damn bit of good for you here. Take these, you’re coming over with us.” The woman said, handing Lilith a pistol and a thin rapier sword. “When the planks go across you follow me, don’t use those unless you see me using mine. Try not to get killed if a fight breaks out, losing your pretty face would break my heart.”
“Trina, we just fished her out of the drink a few hours…” Chibs began to object, seeing Lilith being armed up.
“She’s on the ship so she’ll earn her way Chibs. We’ve no time for a vote but the crew won’t have able bodies freeloading. Unless the Captain objects. She goes.” Trina snapped back at Chibs, who looked over his shoulder at the Captain. He had been watching as the young lady’s situation developed.
“She goes, but Trina, you’ve insisted so you will watch over her. If she does not return, then neither should you.” the Captain replied.
“Alright then, you girly, get your first taste today. Have you ever killed a man?” Trina asked.
“Just one.” Lilith replied as casually as she could. She could feel Trina’s inquisitive stare as she walked to the larboard rail. The cross planks were about to go down and the raiding crew all gathered on deck to flood across to the American ship.
“Well, hopefully you won’t have to today.” Trina said, “Keep close to me and if a fight breaks out, I’ll try to keep us both alive.” The planks clattered home onto the American ship’s rail and the pirates started climbing their way over.
Chibs was the first man across. A pistol in each hand, he expertly balanced the cross plank and dropped down onto the deck of the American ship. There were sailors with raised, empty hands scattered across the deck. Some of the sailors kneeled, some remained standing, all showed empty hands. There were no weapons laying on deck, something Chibs immediately took cautious mental note of. With a number of the pirate crew now aboard the American ship, Chibs walked up the quarterdeck and pointed his pistol directly into a sailor’s face.
“Where be your Captain? Cowering into his cabin?” Chibs asked, cocking the hammer of the pistol.
“Aye, he is.” the sailor stammered responding.
“Go and fetch him. If he comes out armed, we’ll kill everyone on deck before we burn this tub and leave you to swim boy.” Chibs hissed, shoving the young sailor to the gangway. “My name is Chibs, I’m the Quartermaster aboard the ‘Drowned Maiden,’ none of you cowards will be harmed if you keep your mouths shut and do as you’re told. Lift a finger against my crew and I will see every one of you dead.” Chibs shouted over the remaining crew, who were now being forced down to kneel on the deck of their ship by the boarding pirates. Lilith had crossed the gang plank and was now standing by Trina, aiming her pistol at a kneeling sailor who looked to be her own age. The young man still had a fair complexion and no beard, as he knelt, Lilith noticed his hands were shaking and tears ran down his face. A puddle of urine gathered around the deck where his knees touched.
Lilith, trying to remain focused in her own right, felt an edge of pity over the young sailor. She quickly snapped out of it when the sailor Trina had her pistol trained on tried to stand. Trina, in one swift motion raised her foot and kicked the sailor square in the throat. She then swept her pistol down, hitting the man over the head with the edge of her hand and handle of the gun. The remaining sailors on deck kept still, this show of instant force snuffed out any ideas of heroism among them.
The American Captain appeared from his cabin ready to accept his defeat, his shoulders slumped, head hanging. He approached Chibs to offer a formal surrender of the ship. Lilith watched as the events toward the quarterdeck of the American vessel unfolded, but she caught a smell, an awful retching smell that caused her to recoil slightly. She paused, wondering what the source of the offending odor was. It smelled like death and passed almost as soon as she had detected it. Again, it wafted into her senses and almost caused her to gag.
“What in the bloody? That’d gag a shit eating maggot!” Trina shouted, confirming Lilith was not the only one who smelled the foulness. Lilith stepped over to the netting covering the hold and peered downward, the smell was wafting from below and as she leaned over the hold there was no passing smell, it permeated her nose engulfing her senses. Lilith started to recoil and step away when something caught her eye, in the shadows below deck under the grate covering the hold Lilith saw a set of eyes. Her eyes adjusted to the shadow under the deck and Lilith started to make out faces. Just below the grate covering, Lilith observed them momentarily, people.
“Trina!” Lilith called over gesturing for her new mentor.
“What? What is it?” Trina snapped, stepping over and looking into the hold Lilith motioned toward. Trina gasped, both from what she witnessed and the overpowering smell. At once she called out to Chibs who had heard the commotion but was intent on dealing with the surrendering American skipper.
“Chibs!” Trina called, “You’d better come and look at this!”
“Hold on there,” Chibs began to respond. At that moment, an American sailor came from the hold, a tomahawk in one hand and sword in the other. The tomahawk raised to strike Chibs from behind. Lilith raised her pistol, squeezing the trigger prematurely sending a ball careening in front of Chibs’ would be assailant and meeting the wooden wall behind Chibs. This gave the attacker just a second of hesitation, which when Chibs spun to see who fired a shot was enough for him to level his pistol at the attacker and send the round into his chest at point blank range. This precipitated a reaction from a few more of the Americans, who were dealt with in the same manner and speed.
Chibs made his way over to the hold and looked down through the grate.
“Mother of god, what have these… what in the bloody name of Mary…” Chibs stammered but could not finish a sentence, his face flushed red offsetting his white beard. He raised his unfired pistol in one hand and grabbing the surrendering captain with the other placed the muzzle of the weapon directly under the man’s chin.
“Where did you take them on?” Chibs demanded through gritted teeth.
“Jamaica, please don’t shoot…” the captain stammered back in reply.
“Where in Jamaica you bloody fool? It’s a big enough island!” Chibs hissed through his teeth louder, his patience for the man gone.
“It’s, it’s a secret port. We take on goods in Kingston and then we are paid to shuttle the slaves as well,” the driveling captain barely had time to finish his sentence. Chibs discharged the pistol under his chin, sending the shot through the man’s mouth and head, throwing him backward to the deck in a rain of his own blood and brain matter.
“Trina, empty everyone from the hold. Get them across to the Maiden.” Chibs instructed, still staring down at the man he had just killed, “Then you may gather these prisoners of ours up. See to it they are placed down into their own hold, shoot any who resist. Bring three of the bastards across with you when you’re done, the Captain will want to ask some questions.”
Chapter 3
H.M.S Valor
11 Aug 1808
48 Degrees 12’ N, 9 Degrees 4’ W
The starboard bow chaser on the H.M.S Valor roared, sending its nine-pound iron projectile hurling towards the French sloop’s stern. Lieutenant William Pike looked on intently at the sloop for sign of impact, after a brief moment of flight the ball struck her target sending deadly shards of wood and glass from the aft castle flying.
“Larboard gun, four turns of elevation! Fire when ready!” William ordered as the starboard gun set about reloading. The starboard gun thundered sending another ball into their target, this one hit slightly higher than the last sending more shards of wood across her quarterdeck. A br
ace line snapped, and screams could be heard across the quarter mile gap of sea between them. The sloop had begun a hard turn to bring her larboard guns to bear on the Valor when the second ball had impacted, her turn stalled and her bow drifted back down wind.
“Her quartermaster must have been hit by debris! Both guns, Fire at will!” William shouted at the bow gun crews as they hurriedly made their guns ready.
The bow cannons were firing as fast as the crews could make ready, pausing momentarily only to adjust their aim. Their fourth and fifth rounds again found their target high on the stern of the French sloop causing chaos and destruction aboard the ship. Through the calamity aboard the sloop, she doggedly began her hard turn again.
“Captain!” William called out, “She’s coming about to fire! Larboard side!”
“Quartermaster bring her about four points to starboard, larboard battery prepare for raking fire as she passes,” Captain Grimes called out, each recipient enthusiastically repeated their order and carried about completing their task. Below deck, both batteries of guns were ready and run out, each crew awaiting their orders anxiously. William turned momentarily from the sloop to see how the larger warship was reacting to the cannon fire. The third rate had come about close haul with the wind off her larboard side aiming her bowsprit at an angle toward the Valor.
“Bow guns, make ready and hold fire, let me know when we have that one close enough to range her.” William instructed, “I’m headed for the quarterdeck, starboard gun leader take charge.”
“Aye Sir,” the gunners mate replied.
On the quarterdeck Captain Grimes took careful stock of the position of the sloop, his own course and the course of the much larger warship now beating towards the Valor. He calculated a course in his mind and quickly inventoried the Valor’s capabilities. With a plan put together, he walked up to the quarterdeck rail and looked over the crew quickly. All were ready, hands aloft awaited sail change, gun crews below had all reported ready. William came onto the quarterdeck.
“Mr. Pike, raking fire as we pass the sloop. Then have larboard battery make ready with chain shot and run out, once they are run out, I want max elevation and I want them to unship their rear wheels. See to it that starboard battery’s guns are all at the ready for full broadside fire on that ship of the line as soon as we have fired on the sloop. We won’t have any room for error. Tell Lieutenant Davitts his Marines are to hold fire on the sloop, we’re going to fan in front of that line ship within musket range, they can open fire on her.” Captain Grimes rattled off his instructions with dashing confidence. William’s broad smile went unnoticed by the Captain, no one else but he could see the commander’s plan beginning to take shape.
The sloop came in line with the forward guns on the Valor’s larboard battery while she was still at an angle leaving her broadside ineffective. The first two guns fired, followed by the next two and the next two after that. Each pair of guns sent eighteen-pound projectiles directly into the sloop’s stern and aft larboard quarter, until all twelve guns of the battery had dealt their blow without the sloop being able to return fire once. The French ship was a flurry of snapping line and cable, shattering wood meeting flesh and sail. Smoke was pouring from the gun ports in the rear before Valor’s battery had completed firing. Moments after the last shot, an explosion from in the sloop’s hold blew away a massive part of her larboard side sending debris and bodies flying outward, the flames spread quickly and she listed down on her side, thoroughly and decisively beaten.
“Quartermaster ready for hard a larboard, marksmen at ready, starboard gun crews full broadside on my mark!” Captain Grimes bellowed out, preparing the crew for their next fight. The third rate had acted just as Captain Grimes had anticipated they would, in an attempt to aid their countrymen they had made a course to intercept Valor and cut her off from the sloop, setting up a devastating broadside. But the Valor’s speed and maneuverability foiled their course. Grimes was able to fire all twelve-larboard cannon at the sloop and now was running before the wind setting up to launch a full broadside at the bow of the French ship beating directly towards them. The entire crew of the Valor was awaiting the Captains orders and as the large French warship drew closer, tense moments drug by and finally expired with Grimes’ shouted orders,
“Quartermaster make your turn now! Starboard battery, as she comes about, fire!” Captain Grimes directed.
The Valor cut her turn directly in front of the approaching warship, William guessed the range was less than two hundred meters. The starboard battery opened fire with impressive unity as the French ship came into their aim. Several rounds from the volley found their target, one smashing a large hole in the enemy hull just above the water line. The crew aboard the Valor all cheered loudly, cut short only by the shouts of officers redirecting their efforts back to their tasks. The Valor turned slightly again southward, and she was beam reach to the wind.
“Mr. Cobb keep your heading south by southwest, she will no doubt start firing bow chasers at us and we need to open a gap before our next move against her.” Grimes instructed, the opening salvo of the French bow guns confirming his predictions as he spoke. Their first shots fell slightly short and Grimes knew they would now have their range. Before Cobb could even respond, Grimes reissued his orders, “Run up every auxiliary sail, top gallants and royals on main and fore and get every bit of slack from the sheets, we must make every knot we possibly can.”
Cobb went about setting his Captain’s conditions while Grimes looked back over the fantail of the Valor. He could see the French gun crews readying their bow guns. The other French ship, the one Cobb had originally heard in the dark, had come about also and joined the pursuit of the Valor. With all her sails flying, the Valor rapidly created a gap between herself and her pursuers. The only hit she took was to the aft castle, wounding one sailor and killing another from the wooden debris caused by the ball. It took only forty minutes for Grimes and the Valor to create enough of a gap for the Captain’s planned maneuver. Grimes ordered the quartermaster to come about hard, turning with the wind until it was close reach off her starboard bow. This put the large Frenchman on her larboard side and just as Valor hit her heading, within range. The Marines fired swivel guns and muskets as they came about, causing the French sailors to scramble for cover. Valor’s larboard battery fired their guns, loaded with sail and line destroying chain shot. Without rear wheels though, the guns only recoiled a fraction of what they normally would, making reloading painstakingly slow.
The Valor’s salvo of chain shot ripped through much of the French line ship’s sails, shredding her main and topsail on the mainmast, severing many of her brace lines and breaking the larboard side yard for her mainsail. French sailors scrambled away from falling debris, several jumping overboard to escape the hail of fire from the Valor’s marines. Captain Grimes immediately ordered a hard-larboard turn again bringing them dangerously close to the massive French ship who was now severely disabled and in chaos on deck. The Valor’s quick turn was not as tight as her Captain had hoped she could make though, and she momentarily came into the field of fire of the French warship’s larboard battery. Grimes recognized the danger they were in immediately and began ordering crew to take cover. The French broadside sounded with a thunderous, deafening roar. Impacts along the starboard rail of the Valor sent jagged wooden debris flying and several brace lines flailing. Below deck, the forward most gun on the starboard battery took a direct hit next to their gun port, the impacting round destroyed the cannon, killed the gun crew and wounded several men from the adjacent gun crews. William himself was struck by a shard of wood, the jagged piece lodging high into his cheek by his left eye.
The Valor, wounded but still maneuvering smartly, passed out of the line of fire and crossed the bow of the line ship. Captain Grimes went below himself and ordered the remaining starboard battery to open fire. The volley of fire impacted on the bow and larboard side of the French line ship to deadly effect. Several holes were smashed into t
he French hull making the conditions for the already disabled ship desperate. She started listing heavily onto her larboard beam and smoke was pouring from all of her gun ports.
Captain Grimes ordered the quartermaster to maintain course westward and went about seeing to his wounded while assessing the damage Valor had taken. There was still another French warship approaching, this one considerably faster and more maneuverable than the line ship that was now fighting to stay afloat and extinguish a fire. Grimes arrived on the gun deck to William holding a wound on his face while he worked to restore order from chaos. He had already ordered all guns reloaded and run out, so Grimes began reorganizing gun crews to compensate for the dead and wounded. Once the gun smoke and confusion had settled, Grimes and Pike assessed damages to their ship and crew. Several sections of the starboard rail were shot away and the large hole by the forward gun port on the starboard side was the worst of it. The severed brace lines were already being replaced and the damage to the aft castle could wait for repair until a more convenient time and condition.
When the Captain and his first Lieutenant returned to the quarterdeck, the remaining French sloop had overtaken her countrymen on the line ship and were pursuing the Valor about half a mile off her stern. Far in the background William noted the line ship was struggling to battle their fire as thick black smoke bellowed up through her rigging and plumed high into the sky.
“They are unlikely to recover her.” Grimes stated, he paused momentarily staring at the struggling enemy vessel, “I intend to run us west and south. Mr. Pike get the crew organized. When that sloop comes close enough, we are going to come about on her and take her as a prize. We can take her to Nassau and let Admiral Sharpe do with her as he pleases. Perhaps she will be your first command.” The mention of command surprised William, who was not sure how to respond. His mind still reeled from the first part of their engagement and he was baffled how they had come out of it as well as they had. Captain Grimes had led his ship against two enemy vessels one of far superior firepower and size and one of near equal speed and maneuverability, leaving both in their wake, soundly beaten. Having witnessed Johnathan Grimes’ decisiveness and conviction in combat, William now understood more of the reputation the daring Captain held.
