Not wanting to go against the Gulf Current for the whole distance, Laird took them out to sea that day and turned south that evening. It was early in the morning watch when the officer of the watch sent down Jason Hendricks to wake him. Hendricks was a newly appointed midshipman of sixteen. He was not very knowledgeable about Navy affairs yet, but had served on his grandfather’s merchant fleet for some years and had the makings of a seaman. “Sir”, he shouted, “Mister Wilson says to tell you a ship is in sight.”
Hendricks added, “I know her well, sir. She’s the Amy Benson. She sailed out of Boston for years but now her owner Amos Hunter flies the British flag and sails out of Halifax.”
Harrison grumbled, “Keep your voice down, Hendricks. I can hear you just fine.”
Hendricks could not be satisfied unless he got the last word in. “Mister Wilson told me to make sure you were awake”, using the same shout he had used before.
Groaning, Harrison donned his heavy wool coat and picked up the new bicorne hat his wife had given him before the voyage. Searching for his heavy gloves, he found them where his servant had hidden them away. Higgins thought they were much too fine and expensive to wear aboard ship, and was always hiding these items and leaving out his ancient, worn-out attire.
On the quarterdeck now, he shivered as the frigid wind found its way under his heavy coat. Although they had made some southing, it was just as cold here as it was to the north. His watch officer, Mister Wilson, approached and pointed out to starboard. “There sir, right on our beam.”
A big, ship-rigged merchant was plodding along on her northerly course. Harrison wondered aloud, “I wonder what she is doing out here when she could be coming up the Gulf Stream, making port a little sooner?”
Young Hendricks was right there, shamelessly eavesdropping. “Sir, I know the man. Right now he flies the British flag on his ship so he can avoid the blockade. But he doesn’t want to have to wait for convoys, so he sails out here where he thinks he will not be noticed.”
“Won’t the British fine him for not obeying that Order in Council?”
“No, that is the beauty of his plan. When he enters Halifax harbor, he hoists the American flag. Admiral Sawyer there is happy to have rogue American ships bring trade, so he says not a word about it. He will give a license to anybody that asks.”
Harrison ordered the ship put about, and the Allen began coming up to the ship. It was high daylight before they came alongside, the ship ignoring their presence. When he fired a gun, the ship raised an American flag that matched their own, and kept sailing. The gunner tried another shot, and this clipped her cutwater, bringing forth some outraged gobbling from a portly gentleman on the merchant’s deck.
Close enough now to use a speaking trumpet, Harrison shouted for the fellow to heave to. With no response, he warned, “Those last were warning shots, the next will go into your hull.”
The remainder of the ports opened and the guns were rolled out. The merchant set her tops’ls to the mast and slowed to a crawl.
“Mister Laird”, Harrison told the first officer. “I want you to take an armed party and examine that ship. Mister Hendricks will accompany you. He is to rummage the master’s quarters, to see what he can find.”
It was an hour before Laird returned to the sloop with a case full of papers. Young Hendricks had remained on the merchant with some armed hands. Laird approached his captain and announced. “When I went aboard that merchant, her master handed me her papers and manifest. Supposedly, she is the Amy Benson whose home port is Boston. She has a cargo of tobacco from Virginia in hogsheads bound for Boston, or Halifax, depending on which set of papers you want to believe.”
“When we went past her stern before boarding, the sternboard said she was the Amy Benson out of Halifax, but she has another sternboard under that one saying she is out of Boston.”
“Young Hendricks worked as an apprentice for that master two years, and knows some of his little tricks. He found one set of documents in the cabin saying she was a British ship and another proving she was American. Amos Hunter, her owner and master, has papers identifying himself as an American and as an Englishman. Apparently Mister Hunter wishes to be all things to all people.”
Harrison had himself pulled over to observe matters himself. The master of the ship was most indignant of his treatment and would surely call upon the new Navy Secretary, Mister Jones, and forcefully express his displeasure.
Leaving the master in the hands of his Marines, Harrison had a hatch opened. Hogshead after hogshead was wedged tightly in place. He approached his bosun’s mate standing by the hatch and asked if he could knock in the top of one of the large oaken casks. He wanted to see the contents.
Obligingly the seaman located an axe and had a top knocked in within a few minutes. The pungent aroma of Virginia tobacco emerged. “Dayton, I am planning to burn this ship. If you or your mates wish any of this tobacco, and have a place to stow it, you may take what you will.”
Harrison had it in mind that every tobacco user aboard ship would take a few pounds of tobacco from the huge barrel. After returning to the Ethan Allen, he looked out his stern window and saw the Benson’s windlass cranking a hogshead through the open hatch from the end of a cable leading through a block on the mainyard. As he watched, his crew braced the yard around until the container hung over the side. The Benson had a big barge on board and that had been dropped into the sea and led under the hanging hogshead. Slowly, the barrel was lowered into the barge, making it settle deeply into the water from the half ton weight of the tobacco.
How they were going to stow it on the Ethan Allen, he had no idea and knew better than to ask.
The first tendrils of smoke began seeping through the open hatches before they set sail. Soon after, flames began gushing out and she was then fully engulfed. Harrison had sacrificed a jug of whale oil that he had intended to use for his lamps on the voyage. He decided he could just use slush from the galley instead.
Mister Hunter was confined to a little storeroom the bosun said they could use. He had a stool to sit on and the deck on which to sleep. A bucket for his bodily wastes, which he could empty over the side once a day and a Bible, although he would have a difficult time reading it for lack of a lamp. When he complained bitterly, he was told he could sleep in irons on the orlop deck if he preferred.
The USS Ethan Allen continued south, once sighting a dozen ships heading in their own direction. Closing to inspect them, they found three of them were British warships, two frigates and a ship-sloop. Wanting to say nothing to any of them, Allen hoisted everything she could carry and the race was on. The big 38 gun frigate was soon sunk under the horizon, but the sloop and the smaller frigate were not so easily left behind. The pair remained with the American ship the rest of the day, the Allen escaping only in the dark of night. Harrison would have gladly met with the ship-sloop by herself, but an action would have only bad results if the frigate was present too.
Harrison was becoming depressed. He commanded a warship and his duty was to seek out and destroy any enemy warships he met. Here he was, slinking around like a burglar, hiding from everyone, almost afraid to come out in the open.
The men though, seemed to be taking it in stride. They were in the warmer waters of the south and men were now caulking on deck on their off watches, taking the sun and working on scrimshaw.
One day, while taking noon sights with the midshipmen, he found they had left Florida, the last appendage of the North American mainland in these parts and were closing Cuba. He had no instructions concerning these Spanish areas. While Spain was technically an ally of Britain in her was with France, he knew of no reason why the United States should not be at amity with Spain.
He decided it might be worthwhile to send a boat into San Juan harbor to find if he could bring the Ethan Allen into the port to load supplies and find out more of this pirate ship. It had been months since Navy Secretary William Jones had issued the orders for this mission. The pirate could well h
ave been taken long since and his bones might be decorating some gibbet along the shore somewhere,
Harrison selected Mister Laird to take the boat in. Although he was not the most pleasant person to deal with, he had a good head on his shoulders and was able to make clear decisions rapidly. Laird was dead-set against ‘Papists’ and was apt to fly into a rage discussing them. Harrison reminded him the people in these parts were Roman Catholics, and he must not discuss religion with them.
It was nightfall when the boat returned. Laird had had a productive day on shore. Their quarry was still terrorizing the local populace and the American’s efforts to suppress this menace were welcome. Supplies were available but it was not deemed advisable for crew to come ashore on liberty. A pilot would come out in the morning to take them to their anchorage.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
The men of the Roebuck were in a better frame of mind after their liberty away from the ship. They found a creek which they used to fill the few empty water barrels and set sail again. Thinking back, Phillips thought he remembered Lord Forsythe mentioning his caregivers telling him of the pirates sometimes frequenting Viequez. Even if they did not make the island a permanent base, it might be worthwhile to make exploratory visits now and then.
Their minds and bodies refreshed, the crew of Roebuck set sail again. Still sailing along the Puerto Rican coastline, they tried to inspect every small bay and inlet they came to. Their interpreter learned a few inhabitants had seen a big frigate, but whether it was the pirate, nobody knew.
Approaching San Juan harbor, Phillips decided to enter and learn of any news before going on to inspect Viequez.
Having already visited the port before, Phillips was ready this time and the fortress did not find it necessary to fire a warning shot. They hoisted the signal for a pilot who came to them as soon as he had delivered his previous ship to her mooring.
As they were ghosting through the quiet harbor to the anchorage, Phillips spotted a trim little sloop-of-war flying the American flag. After the port doctor came aboard to listen to Phillips oath that no man had suffered any contagious disease recently, they were granted practique. Certain officers, including the ship’s doctor, were permitted to go ashore to make necessary arrangements. The doctor needed to purchase certain medicaments, as well as some green foods for the relief of health problems among the men. The purser had his own purchases to make. The men’s tobacco supply was getting low and this was a good port to purchase rum.
Phillips went ashore with the ostensible purpose to meet with Don Quevido again. The official was indeed free and met with him in front of a posada by a nearby plaza. Warning Phillips he himself had a meeting scheduled with the archbishop that very morning, they had a short discussion where it was soon found that neither had any new information. The pirate frigate was still continuing its depredations and it was still not known where it might be based. There were a thousand islands where it could be and the corsairs could be using several or many of them alternatively. Quevido left for his appointment and Phillips sat there at the little table wondering how he was to spend the time ashore. While he was debating himself, he noticed a uniformed man settling in at another table.
When the stranger shifted his sword to a more comfortable position and removed his hat, he paid more attention. During his service in the Mediterranean, Phillips had met several American Naval officers, and this one was wearing the uniform. He must be from that American warship in the harbor.
With most of a bottle of wine in his belly, Phillips began thinking of his options. This was an officer of a nation with which his country was at war. But, he was in a neutral country where it would be folly to go forth, waving his sword. He could just sit here and ignore the fellow. Or, he could saunter over and introduce himself. Of course, neither could discuss their missions or plans, but they were officers of respectable services. Surely a little courtesy could not be amiss?
A waiter came by then and asked an undecipherable question in Spanish. He did not understand the language but when the lad pointed to his empty bottle, Phillips nodded and put a coin on the table. A new, opened bottle was promptly placed before him. Picking up the bottle and his glass, he went over to the stranger’s table and looked questioningly at the empty chair.
The American officer had obviously been observing him also and waved him to the empty seat with a grin. “Master Commandant Harrison of the USS Ethan Allen, sloop-of-war”. He said. You are with that British sloop anchored near me.”
“Well”, answered Phillips, “Since I’m actually a post captain, she has to be a post ship.”
“Yes, Your Majesty”, offered Harrison, knuckling his forehead like a seaman approaching a senior officer.”
“That’s alright, Master Commandant. I just did not want you to get the idea my ship was a mere sloop.”
The waiter had brought a glass and placed it before Harrison, so Phillips filled it with wine. Wordlessly, the two officers sat and meditated the subjects they were to discuss with each other.
It was Phillips who brought up the subject of the pirate. Surely that would not conflict with his duty.
Harrison responded. “It is curious that you mention that, Captain. My Secretary of War dispatched me down here to see what I could do about the fellow. It seems Secretary Jones is upset over the un-necessary barbarities the pirates are inflicting on their captives.”
Phillips nodded. “I have been chasing him for weeks now. I can’t seem to pin him down. But, I have intelligence he is using haunts around Puerto Rico, One said he was using a base on the Isla Vieques, off to the east of Puerto Rico recently.”
“Then, you should be thanking your lucky starts you have not found him. That frigate has some serious armament aboard his ship!”
“Oh, as a King’s ship, we are expected to go up against serious opposition. And this pirate, even though he is sailing in an old French 40 gun frigate, is not quite up to the standard of her former owners, the professional French Navy. Most of those guns were missing when the ship began its new career. It has been re-armed with whatever could be gleaned from its merchant prizes, probably four and six pounders.”
Nodding, Harrison answered. “I think that was true originally. However I spoke a Spanish Garda Costa vessel early yesterday and learned the pirates had sacked an old Spanish fortress near here. The fort was nearly abandoned but the pirates got the guns, twelve pounders, all on naval carriages. They also seized a large supply of ammunition that had just been delivered. I think either of us encountering the frigate will have a fight on our hands!”
With plenty to think about, Phillips returned to the ship.
Early in the morning watch the next day, he was wakened by the midshipman of the watch. “Sir, a boat from that Yankee sloop is alongside with a message.”
“Well, have them hand the damned thing up!”
“Shall we allow them to board?”
“No, we will not. We are combatants, for God’s sake!”
When Phillips had shrugged into his uniform coat and placed his hat on his head, he emerged onto the quarterdeck. The officer of the deck nervously presented him with a sealed document. Phillips ripped the thing open ungraciously.
It was from Master Commandant Harrison, expressing his interest in the subject of their tête-a tête ashore yesterday. If the captain of HMS Roebuck were interested, he would like to propose further discussion of that topic, only at a place of Captain Phillips choosing.
Phillips needed to think this over carefully. Discussions with an enemy combatant could easily lead him into shoal waters. It was only after he read over his orders advising him of the importance of dealing with this pirate that Phillips decided to gingerly approach the subject with this American captain.
A brief visit to the British Consulate brought additional news that gave him thought. He needed to discuss this news with another person of like mind as himself.
Accordingly, for the sake of secrecy, he sat down without the aid of his clerk, who h
ad a better hand with a pen than himself and penned a letter to Master Commandant Harrison advising him that he must be very circumspect about approaching any level of co-operation between the two warships, but expressed his interest in re-visiting the subject at the same establishment they had met before at the same time of day.
Addressing the note to Master Commandant Harrison, USS Ethan Allen, and sealing it, he impressed his personal seal into the wax and called for his coxswain.
Cox’n Mullins, as Phillips knew from the ‘X’ he had signed the muster book, was perfectly illiterate, although an excellent seaman for all that. Taking Mullins out on deck, he looked out at the American warship.
“Mullins, I have a task for you which I hope you can perform without it being discussed on the mess deck. I wish you to deliver this note to that American warship, and hand it up to her anchor watch officer. There will be no reply. There will be no banter between your boat’s crew and people aboard the American. Our countries are at war, as you know, so we must be discreet. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I didn’t understand some of the words you used, but I will deliver the note, and the boat’s crew will keep their mouths shut.”
“There you have it, Mullins. Take care of it at once, if you please.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Harrison was waiting at the posada when Phillips arrived. They each ordered a bottle of wine and cigars from the waiter. A lamp was placed on the table with the drink and tobacco, and the waiter trimmed the cigars for them.
“Well”, began Harrison. “What are we to discuss?”
“Just this! Both of us must be circumspect if we do not want to bring down the wrath of our respective governments upon our heads. In my own case, my instructions are to do what I can to eliminate this pirate. I assume you have similar instructions. From the intelligence you gave me yesterday, it seems this fellow may be a tough nut to crack, by either one of our warships. I have a little added intelligence that I have since learned from our consul here.”
Across to America: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 9) Page 16
