A New War
Page 9
Before Giles could decide whether to float another cask, there was a cry from the masthead, “Sail ho! Three points off the larboard bow”
“Mr. Miller. Take a telescope to the mast-head to see what she is. Mr. Davis, secure the bow chasers.”
Miller grabbed a telescope and headed up the ratlines. Once at the masthead, he settled himself firmly and examined the sighting.
“Deck, there. Ship appears to be a frigate, based on her royals and topsails. French cut. She is hard on the larboard tack on a course that might intercept ours. She is too far away to clearly determine her nature or her course.”
“Mr. Miller. Stay at the masthead until you can determine better what she is,” Giles bellowed. “Mr. Foster. Get both watches to dinner. Then clear for action. Mr. Brooks, what do you make of her?”
“Hard to say, sir. We could expect to meet French ships here, though Cherbourg is not a major naval base. If she is a French frigate, her business may be to round Ushant in order to proceed south or to go into Brest. She could also be trying for the Atlantic. The French coast is close enough that there won’t be any other French ships near her, under the horizon. And, of course, she might be one of ours if she has not been in service long enough to have her sails changed.”
“True.”
The watch below had soon finished their dinners and changed places with the watch on duty. Soon the fire could be doused and other preparations made. In a very short time, Giles was able to give the order to clear for action. A somewhat disordered bustle broke out. It was a drill that Giles had yet to practice and the weakness of Foster’s stations bill again became evident. Giles doubted that he had conferred with Davis or Miller about it. He was amused to note that the petty officers were quietly righting some of the worst misallocations without raising a fuss. Luckily, they still had lots of time, but they would have to do better in future. After the hub-bub of clearing for action, a comparative silence descended on the ship as they waited for the vessels to come up to each other.
“Mr. Miller, is she showing any colors?
“Not yet sir. Just a moment, she is raising a flag. It’s the tri-color, sir. She’s French.”
“Very good. Mr. Correll, raise our colors.”
“Sir,” said Brooks, “by my reckoning, if both ships hold their course, she will cross our bow in twenty minutes at a distance of a cable and a half.”
Giles had noted Brooks with his sextant taking repeated observations of the approaching ship and calling for the log to be cast far more frequently than usual. Unlike Giles, who hated all the calculations which he had been forced to learn as a midshipman, Brooks reveled in them and would take great pride in accurately predicting where they might be in the near future. “Very good, Mr. Brooks. Keep me informed as your calculations get more accurate.”
“Mr. Hughes,” Giles addressed the gunnery expert who had been standing on the lee side of the quarter-deck, “we shall shortly be going into action. As you are a civilian, I must ask you to proceed to the orlop for your own protection.”
“Captain, I would like to stay on deck. I might be able to help with the guns. In any case, I would dearly like to see them in action.”
“If you are sure, Mr. Hughes, your assistance will be much appreciated. Could you help direct the bow chasers which are likely to be the first guns in action?”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Hughes unconsciously confirmed Giles’ suspicion that he had served in the Navy at some time.
Giles then turned his mind fully to what the coming battle might involve, especially in its first stages. Like a chess player he had to anticipate his opponent’s initial moves and his responses to them and vice versa. If both ships held their courses, their paths would cross with the enemy ahead. As she crossed, their opponent could fire at least one broadside before Patroclus’s main guns could bear. The French frigate could then continue on her course, hoping that its cannon balls had damaged Patroclus enough to slow her down, and gambling that Patroclus’s reply, fired at a greater distance would not cripple the French vessel. Alternatively, after the first broadside, she could turn to leeward and engage Patroclus in the hope that the first cannonade might have done enough damage that Patroclus would not be able to respond effectively. It would also allow the enemy to escape to leeward where Patroclus’s ability to sail closer to the wind would not matter and on a point of sailing where she might be slower than the French frigate. It was unlikely that the enemy ship would turn downwind before she met Patroclus to exchange broadsides since that would expose her stern to having Patroclus turn to rake her as she passed and possibly get in another broadside unopposed. But, if the opposing frigate wanted to escape down wind, she would have taken the opportunity to do so earlier, knowing that a long stern chase might exhaust the daylight before Patroclus could come up with her. The same argument held for the French ship turning down wind after crossing Patroclus’s bow, but Giles should watch for any sign that that was what she was doing when the time came. That left the question of what Giles should do. He could come about now. That would open the possibility of the enemy turning down wind to rake Patroclus as they sailed along. The same problem applied to tacking before their paths intersected, and as the ships converged, the danger being that, if Patroclus should miss stays, she would be vulnerable to devastating broadsides from her opponent. So Giles’s best move seemed to be to hold his course until the French frigate had passed ahead of her and then tack in pursuit.
Having settled in his own mind what would be the best course to follow, Giles consulted Brooks, knowing that the master would have been performing similar calculations in his head. Brooks’ opinion was the same as Giles’s so, with everything ready for the encounter, the whole ship’s company had to endure seemingly endless minutes as the two ships converged without anything further to do in preparation.
When there were only a few minutes until the French ship passed ahead of them, Giles ordered, “Mr. Davis, open fire as convenient.” He had intended to give the usual order, ‘Open fire as you bear’, but remembered Hughes saying that it was better to have a few ranging shots first to improve accuracy. Within seconds, the larboard bow-chaser blasted out. Giles observed that the shot fell well short of what he had expected. And the same thing happened with the starboard bow-chaser. He was about to investigate what was wrong, but he noticed that the starboard shot had ricocheted far forward when it skipped off a wave. Hughes had undoubtedly suggested aiming deliberately low to mislead their opponent of the force of metal she was about to encounter. In moments, he was proven right. Just before the bow of the enemy came in line with Patroclus’s bowsprit, both bow chasers fired, and this time within moments Giles saw the opponent’s forestay part even as a large hole appeared in the jib. In moments, the long twenty-fours fired again, doing serious damage to the enemy’s foremast shrouds. The third volley was the one that did the most damage, for it severed the mizzen shrouds and hit the mizzenmast itself. The French frigate was just coming over the top of a wave, and the effect was to snap the unsupported mizzen to windward where it went by the board, swiveling the frigate into the eye of the wind. Her starboard battery was able to fire at Petroclus as the wounded ship swung into the wind, but all the shots went wide.
Giles immediately gave the orders: “Starboard you helm. Mr. Foster, back the mainsail. Mr. Miller, fire as you bear.” He noted, without it really registering with him, that the second order was in fact repeated and implemented by Mr. Brooks and not by Mr. Foster. “Mr. Correll, keep a sharp eye out for her lowering her colors or doing something equivalent since the flag on her spanker gaff is no more.”
“Captain, she has just lowered her ensign from her topmast, and there are some men on the quarter deck waving a flag as if to lower it.”
“Belay that order for the guns, Mr. Miller.”
“Cease fire,” bellowed Miller. “Secure the guns.”
Only one gun of the starboard battery fired before the order could be complied with. Giles had just captured a F
rench frigate without having to receive a shot.
“Mr. Shearer, Carstairs, get my barge ready, and the longboat with a dozen marines, the carpenter and his mates, and as many seamen for whom there is room. I’ll take possession of the frigate. Mr. Miller come with me. Mr. Foster, you will have the ship in my absence.” For the first time, Giles noticed that Foster had been standing behind the mizzen, but for the moment thought nothing of it.
The boats’ crews were rapidly assembled and rowed across to the French frigate. There they were met by someone who seemed to be in a lieutenant’s uniform offering his sword to Giles. There emerged one serious problem, for it became evident that none of the Frenchmen spoke English and none of the Englishmen spoke French. Giles silently cursed his father who had not thought it wise to spend money on a French governess or to send Giles to a school where French was on the curriculum, and the ships he had served in as a midshipman had no one capable of teaching the midshipmen French, that most useful of languages for a naval officer. Among Patroclus’s officers, the one who was nearest to being a French speaker was Miller, but he had only a smattering of the language, and seemed to be able to extract only small amount of useful information from the French.
“Sir, the ship is the Quatorze de Juillet – I think that means the fourteenth of July. Her captain was struck by the ball that hit the mizzenmast and instantly killed. The lieutenant is called Robart. He and the other officers are prepared to give their parole. But, if I understand him right, they have no desire to be exchanged for English officers.”
“We’ll have no say in that matter, Mr. Miller. Get men to replace the forward rigging that has been destroyed. Mr. Hendricks, you and your mates determine how you can rig some sort of jury mizzen. Falmouth is upwind of us and we will need the prize to go to windward. A sail aft, like the driver, would help that endeavor. Mr. Macaulay, your marines can guard the prisoners. Make sure that they are kept below decks. Do you need more marines?”
“It would help sir, but I can also use some of our seamen, suitably armed to help guard them.”
“Very well. Round up the French marines and send them over to Patroclus. Mr. Miller, I shall send you more of our seamen and marines, also one of Mr. Brooks’s mates with suitable charts to make sure that you can find Falmouth. Mr. Miller, if you have a chance, see if there are any documents or other interesting finds among the captain’s possessions which were sent below when she cleared for action. Now, Carstairs, I am ready to return to Patroclus. We should take the French officers with us.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
When Giles returned to Patroclus, his first action was to confer with the Master.
“Mr. Brooks, a word with you in private.” Everyone would presume that they were discussing the best course to take, given that they would need to accompany the wounded frigate until at least they were away from any possibility of a French rescue being made, but that was not Giles’s concern
“Mr. Brooks, where was Mr. Foster when we were approaching the Quatorze – that is the name of the French frigate?”
“Sir, he was on the quarterdeck.”
“Mr. Brooks, don’t prevaricate. Where on the quarterdeck was he?”
“He was behind the mizzenmast, sir.”
“Skulking?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“And Mr. Brooks, when sail handling orders had to be given, did Mr. Foster give them?’
“No sir. Enough time elapsed from when he should give them that I … I stepped into the breech.”
“Thank heavens! No, you don’t have to pretend any more even though he is senior to you. So we have a first lieutenant who is not only a poofter, but who also is shy.”
“I’m afraid so, sir.”
“Damnation, what am I to do? Court-martialing him, for either or both offenses would totally distract us from our mission. And Davis is too inexperienced to be first lieutenant, anyway.”
“Yes sir. Though I think that Mr. Davis might surprise you. I know that I would be happier with him as first lieutenant than Mr. Foster. But Mr. Miller is green as grass, and Mr. Carrell is hardly ready to be a lieutenant. ”
“Confound it. I have got to get rid of Foster, but not in a way that will delay us. I think I would rather be very short of officers than having one I cannot trust! Well, we’d better get all the other things straightened out so that we can proceed.”
By late afternoon, the repairs to the rigging of Kay-torze – as the hands had taken to pronouncing the name of their prize – had been finished, and Hendricks had succeeded in fishing a spare spar to the stump of the mizzen to carry a driver. The wind had backed into the south south-west so both ships were capable of laying courses that would easily take them into Falmouth if the wind held. Giles had used the luxury that a full crew gave him to send more men to Kay-torze to help in controlling the prisoners and in sailing the ship.
“Mr. Stewart, you seem to be midshipman of the watch. Signal Mr. Davis to take station on our leeward quarter and to proceed with us to Falmouth.” Giles knew that it was a bit unfair to expect a midshipman of only a few days’ experience to be able to fulfill the order, except he also knew that Brooks would make sure that the new midshipman knew what to do.
“Captain, sir!” broke in Foster. “It is surely my right to take command of the prize.”
“Hardly, Mr. Foster. We may well meet other French vessels and I will need you here when we engage them.”
“But, Captain. It is always the custom, so that my experience in command can be noted to speed up my being posted.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Foster, that it is not the custom. And you must realize that in taking the prize, Mr. Davis’s contribution was much greater than your own.”
“Sir, I protest. I want my protest recorded in the log.”
“Very well, Mr. Foster. It will be noted and the circumstances in which your protest was made.”
The crossing of the Channel was without further incident, and they raised Falmouth at five bells of the afternoon watch on the next day. There was still plenty of daylight by the time they had anchored, with Kay-torze to landward of Patroclus. Giles immediately ordered his barge readied to take him ashore. As they passed close to Kay-torze, there was a loud splash on the opposite side of the ship.
“Man overboard,” came the call, followed by, “It’s one of the prisoners trying to escape.”
Giles ordered Carstairs to take the barge around the stern of Kay-torze, and as they came abreast of the rudder, they spotted a man in the water, apparently trying to swim ashore. Carstairs steered the barge to catch the swimmer and, despite some last minute attempts to get away, the man was snared by Humphries who had been rowing bow oar. It was one of the Frenchmen and even in the barge, he continued to struggle. Giles ordered that he be bound with some of the ropes in the barge, and then turned to Carstairs.
“We’d better get this specimen back on board Kay-torze before going to the Admiral. I also ought to make sure that Mr. Davis is not in difficulty.”
Giles unexpected return to Kay-torze was met by a very hastily assembled welcoming party, with only one bosun’s whistle twittering and two marines at attention. While Davis was clearly nervous, Giles’s only interest was in the well-being of the ship and crew.
“Thank you for catching that man, sir. I should have had him watched more carefully.”
“No harm done, Mr. Davis. How is everything?”
“Very well, sir. We did make one discovery about the ship.”
“Yes?”
“It was Mr. Correll, actually. He discovered the Captain’s desk, where the French had struck it below, and it contained a locked drawer.”
“I don’t imagine that stopped you opening it.”
“No sir. I did. The drawer seemed to contain the ship’s log, the signal book, and the captain’s orders. We couldn’t understand any of them, of course, but that is what I guess them to be. And I noticed a word that looked like ‘Ireland’ in the orders.”
“I’d better take them to the Admiral directly. Anything else?”
“Yes, sir. The man who tried to escape. He is not an officer, but he does not appear to be a seaman either. I wonder if he could have something to do with the ‘Ireland’.”
“Quite possibly. Since he is already in my barge, I’ll deliver him to the Admiral too. Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
Carry on then. I’ll urge the Admiral to take charge of Kay-torze and the prisoners as soon as possible so you can get back on board Patroclus.”
Giles was shown straight into the Admiral’s room when he got ashore.
The Admiral received Giles’ report and put it to one side. “I’ll read this later and send it on to London. I was told, Captain Giles, that you were coming. I didn’t expect you to come with a prize. In what shape is she? And for that matter, how is your own ship?”
“Patroclus suffered no damage, sir. The French ship, the Kay-torze de Jullet, lost her mizzenmast and suffered some damage to her rigging. Otherwise, she is in good shape.”
“The what?”
Giles repeated his version of the ship’s name. The Admiral still looked puzzled, until his aide whispered something to him.
“Ah, Le Quatorze de Juillet,” the Admiral said, in a perfect French accent. “They do love to give their ships names linked to their Revolution.”
“Yes, sir. We found some papers in the Captain’s desk. I think they may be the log, the signal book and the Captain’s orders. None of my people could read them and I don’t know French, I am afraid.”
“I gathered that! Where are they?”
“Here sir.”
Giles handed over the documents. The Admiral scanned them quickly, concentrating on the orders.
“You are quite right. She was supposed to go to Ireland to land an agent, whether a spy or a provocateur is not clear. I don’t expect that you know which prisoner he might be.”
“Sir, it is probable that he is the man who tried to escape by jumping overboard.”