The First Lord bustled out of the room. Giles and Bush turned to Mr. Newsome, the Second Secretary, for elucidation.
“There are a few details of your orders that I should go over. You may think that they are needlessly detailed, but there is a reason. We have learned from our spies in Brest that rumors have been circulating about suspicious naval activity where the river enters the ocean. Normally the Admiralty would order the ships to stay in the bay while the attack would be launched from boats, but the news from Brest suggests that your frigates should enter the river and proceed upstream at least as far as the point where they cannot be seen from the coast. Indeed, given the number of men you will need to land at the dock, not merely to regain our ships but also to control the area so that you can free the prisoners, I believe that you should take your ships right up to the dock. Your orders cover risking your ships in that way.
“If you hurry, and the winds are favorable, you should be off the mouth of the river by dawn in three days’ time. The tide will be flooding until ten o’clock, so you should aim to enter the river at first light and proceed upstream as early as possible.
“Now, about officers. The First Lord thought that we should not appoint captains or even commanders to command the frigates once you have secured them. Capable officers who are not presently in a command are few and they would mostly have seniority to you, Captain Giles. The ships, both the frigates and the others will be commanded by lieutenants, of whom there are many first rate ones still on the beach. We have fourteen lined up with orders to join you at Spithead, Captain Bush. I believe that your first lieutenant is rather junior, Captain Giles, as a result of the fracas over Lieutenant Foster. Do you want a more senior one?”
“No, sir, Lieutenant Davis has come along very quickly. I want to keep him as my First.”
“Very well, the other lieutenants are to take charge of the recaptured ships. They will only be in command until you return to Portsmouth, of course. Similarly, we have enough petty officers to make the journey reasonably easily. We are relying on the recaptured crews to man the prizes, for that is what they will be. If not, you will have to use your own crews. Both of your frigates have almost full complements, so that should not be an excessive drain since you are to bring all the vessels back to Portsmouth immediately. Because of the possible need to free captives who may be some distance from the ships, we are also sending one hundred marines under marine Lieutenant James Dudley, in addition to the ones you already have on board. For land duties, Lieutenant Dudley will be the senior officer.
“The extra men should already be on board Perseus, Captain Bush. I am afraid that you may find your wardroom to be very crowded, but it should only be for a very short period of time. You may want to transfer some of the people to Patroclus when you rendezvous with her.
“Captain Giles, the news from Butler’s Hard is that Patroclus is ready to sail. They have worked very hard to get her ready. We’ve been trying to keep her armament a secret, but I have no doubt that the news must already be out, so on your return, you will also go to Spithead. But we have lightered around shot and powder to make up for what you have already expended – my, you really do go through military supplies at a fast clip, don’t you? Patroclus has been resupplied with rations. So you should be ready to sail as soon as you arrive at Butler’s Hard.
“Here are you orders, and your commission, Captain Bush, and yours Captain Giles. Good luck to you both. I am confident that you will erase the blemish on our reputation from the loss of the frigates before it becomes general knowledge!”
Giles and Bush found themselves ejected from the Second Secretary’s room without further ceremony and out on the street before they could fully absorb all the information they had been given. They hastened back to their inn to collect their sea-chests and Carstairs, before seeking out the Portsmouth Coach. Bush was bursting with enthusiasm about taking command for the first time, and of a fifth-rate. Thanks to Giles, he had avoided the slow progress from lieutenant to captain via being a commander in charge of minor vessels. Even if this command was temporary, and the Second Secretary rather implied that it was not, it was a big step up for Bush.
The two captains arrived at the inn just in time to catch the coach for Portsmouth, arriving there in the early evening. Bush immediately took himself out to Perseus. He was immensely pleased to have the boatman cry ‘Perseus’ when challenged, indicating that the captain of the ship was in the boat. He mounted the side with comparatively little difficulty, immensely proud to see that Jackson’s artificial limbs and his own devoted practice with them had given him the confidence not to request a bosun’s chair. He arrived to the twitter of pipes and read himself in. His evening arrival gave him a chance to meet his officers and make sure that Perseus would be ready to weigh anchor in the morning.
Giles and Carstairs hired a carriage to take them to Butler’s Hard so that Patroclus could sail on the morning ebb. The two captains had agreed to rendezvous in the Solent at six bells of the forenoon watch, but Bush was off the mouth of the river by two bells and Patroclus arrived one bell later. Giles went across to Perseus and was pleased to see that Bush had been given a well-ordered ship, obviously ready for whatever she might be called upon to do. He had all hands assembled, including the lieutenants, petty officers and marines that had been added to the ships’ company for this venture. When they were gathered, he explained to them what they were going to do, and then took half of the additional officers and marines back to Patroclus in the boats of the two frigates. He didn’t need to assemble his own crew since he could rely on Carstairs to report reliably to the ship’s network that invariably spread any news or rumors quickly, and he would gather his own officers together once they were under way.
The wind was fair from the north-north west and the two frigates made a good eight knots as they sailed down the Channel to round Ushant before turning towards their destination. Patroclus was somewhat faster than Perseus, but even so they were making good time. So much so that on the second afternoon, Bush signaled to Giles that he would like to slow down and have some gunnery practice before they got so close to the French coast that firing their cannon might warn of their presence. Bush took a leaf out of Giles’s book and practiced with powder and cannon balls, even though he knew that he would have to pay for the expended materials if they did not encounter a genuine need to fire the guns.
Early the next morning, an hour before dawn, they had worked their way to within half a mile of the shore, the lead going steadily in the chains to warn of any unexpected shoaling. There was enough of a moon that they could make out the shore easily and the gap where the river entered the bay. The wind had freshened somewhat and was backing into the south and promised to make their trip up the river simple. And so it proved. They entered the river under only mainsails and jibs and were beyond the trees before the sun had risen. With any luck, their presence would not have been noted.
Patroclus led the way up the river. Before the last bend, Giles ordered the frigates to anchor. He took his barge to survey the landing cautiously. All was calm. There was no sign of activity either on the vessels or on the dock.
After cautiously returning to Patroclus, Giles formed his plans. The ships’ boats could safely carry fifty marines in the quiet waters of the river. The boats would lead the attack with the marines with the object of securing the dock to prevent any rush from on shore to get to the ships. If they met with no opposition, they were to proceed to block all entrances to what had appeared to be a barracks. Meanwhile, the two frigates would come alongside two of the frigates that were at the dock, grapple with them and take them. The crews of Patroclus and Perseus were then to secure the third frigate, the brig, if it was still there, and the merchant ships.
All went according to plan for once. The marines had secured all entrances to the barracks before their presence was even discovered, and the frigates were greeted with bleary-eyed ship’s watchers who appeared to be nursing the effects of late night
drinking. The barracks surrendered without fuss. The guards on the prison block gave up equally easily, though the number of prisoners released was disappointingly small.
Things had gone very easily so far. A major part of their mission had been accomplished without a shot being fired and without any casualties. But now they ran into a road block. The released prisoners knew that there were several other places where other sailors were being held as slaves. But they were unsure exactly where the prisoners were held or how to get to them. They did know that the locations were some considerable distance away. None of the former captives had been to any of the other places. They were only aware of them from casual references which the guards had made to these sites, and even then what little they had gleaned might be unreliable because of their own inadequate understanding of French. In short, they had no real idea where these different prisons might be or how to get to them.
Giles was in a quandary. He could hardly send the marines marching all over the country side hoping to find the missing captured-sailors. But equally, he really couldn’t leave the captives against his orders. Even without that consideration, he could not possibly abandon them when there was a possibility that they would be sold in the slave markets of Africa. To add to Giles’s troubles, the wind was clearly freshening even as it backed further into the south.
Giles led more by encouraging others than by command. He decided to present his dilemma to his assembled officers, not just those from Patroclus and Perseus, but all the others they had brought along on this venture. A solution to the problem soon emerged.
Lieutenant Dudley of the marines spoke perfect French, and three of the naval lieutenants who were to take command of the recaptured vessels could make a good try at the language. Lieutenant Dudley suggested that he could persuade some of the guards to reveal where the captives were held and lead a rescue party to them. Giles looked askance at him, not seeing how he could be so confident of getting co-operation from any of the guards.
“Why, sir, they are not legitimate prisoners of war. They are pirates, plain and simple. I will point out to them that we see only two ways of dealing with pirates. One is to hang them immediately, the other and more lucrative one is to sell them into slavery. I suspect many would prefer to hang.”
“But we can’t do either of those,” Giles protested.
“Of course we can’t, sir,” responded Lieutenant Dudley, “but they do not know that we are constrained from doing so. It is what they themselves have been doing. I am suggesting that we tell them that if any of them will assist us by leading us to the places where the prisoners are held, then those people will be allowed to stay behind when we leave and that we will simply forget that they are pirates as long as they do not fall into our hands again. I would be surprised if that threat does not get some volunteers to help us.”
Giles did not like the idea of threatening the prisoners. He had, however, not thought about what he would do with them. They were not naval prisoners of war. They were indeed pirates, or the assistants of pirates and slave traders. If he took them back to England, there was every likelihood that they would be hung or transported to Australia, since they were hardly suitable candidates for the press gang. Dudley’s suggestion had merit and he himself could think of no alternative that would get him out of his dilemma. So he gave Dudley his permission to try.
The marine lieutenant put on quite a show of being the fierce, blood-thirsty warrior. While Giles could not follow most of what he was saying, he got the impression that Dudley appeared to be offering the leniency to some of the prisoners only very reluctantly under his captain’s orders and that he himself was hoping to be able to hang the lot of them summarily. After his harangue, several of the former guards indicated that they would be very willing to help. Dudley quickly determined that the prisoners were held in four separate locations, and he chose a total of twelve of the volunteers to guide them. He indicated to Giles that he thought that having three terrified people to guide them would discourage any of them from becoming courageous enough to lead them astray. Lieutenant Dudley’s marines, together with the ones from Patroclus and Perseus, formed into four parties, each commanded by one of the French speaking officers. Dudley led the group that had to go farthest. The information gleaned from the volunteers suggested that it would be impossible to rescue those prisoners and return to the ships that day. At least two of the groups could hope to return only on the following day. In the case of Lieutenant Dudley’s group, they could only be expected in the afternoon on the following day and they would have to take supplies with them to allow for a lengthy absence.
The groups set off immediately. But being marines and not infantry, Giles reckoned that he could not expect a speedy return. The remaining captured guards were ushered into the prison that had held the English captives. The seamen herding them, because they knew how cooperation had been achieved to get volunteers, delighted in acting as if they were vexed at not being able to hang their prisoners immediately. The remaining seamen, largely under the orders of the officers brought to command the liberated ships, went about examining the condition of the vessels and making sure that they were ready to sail when required.
The wind was steadily increasing. By mid-afternoon it was blowing a full gale, and Giles was glad that their orders had not left them at sea on what would be a lee shore if the wind veered and otherwise would threaten to blow them out to sea. He made sure that everything on Petroclus was firmly secured and suggested that the other ships do the same. In Bush’s case, Giles was told, rather testily, that the appropriate orders had been given at least half-an-hour previously.
The first two groups returned late in the afternoon, bringing with them the sailors they had freed and their guards, including the guides to whom they had promised release, but they would not be turned loose until the ships were leaving. So far the results had been very satisfactory, though Giles felt some concern when the lieutenant in charge of one of the groups reported that he suspected that one of the guards who had been watching the prisoners work when Giles’s men descended on them might have gotten away. There was nothing Giles could do as a result of this news; he still had to wait for the other two groups to return the next day, and the gale which was now blowing ensured that he could not safely take the ships from the dock.
The next day, all Giles could do was to try to clear the mountain of paper work that arose from even a short stay at the shipbuilder’s yard for repairs and also that was generated by the new voyage, hiding his impatience and worry as best he could. Bush, on whose shoulders the responsibility for the success of their mission rested more lightly spent the time getting better acquainted with his command. The third group arrived at seven bells of the forenoon watch. Only as the last light was fading did the final party appear. They had also successfully freed the captured sailors and commenced their return with a new group of their own prisoners, those who had been guarding the English captives. But the marines were intercepted by a company of cavalry which harassed their progress until Lieutenant Dudley lured the enemy into a skirmish in which the cavalry fared very poorly and were eventually driven off.
It was now too late in the day to attempt to take the ships down the river and out to sea, even if the wind had permitted it. The light had faded completely and the sky was heavily overcast. Giles ordered that all ships be ready to sail as soon as there was enough light to see their way, and posted a strong defensive line in case the enemy should attempt a night attack.
Overnight the wind did ease. The ships slipped from the dock soon after first light. Patroclus was in the lead, followed by Perseus, then came the merchant ships, the brig and finally the three recaptured frigates. Giles had ordered all naval ships to clear for action before leaving their moorings. The wind had backed into the east and was light so they had no trouble ghosting down the river borne along as much by the falling tide as by their sails. The white channel markers were easily spotted and the calls from the chains indicated that the depth
s were as expected.
Just as the sun rose, Patroclus cleared the line of trees and rounded the last bend to give a view of the bay. The sight that greeted them could hardly have been worse. Beating up towards the river’s mouth was a French ship-of-the-line, a seventy-four. She was on a course to cross the mouth of the river close enough to the shore to block any ship attempting to leave the river for the open ocean. She was certain to reach the blocking position before Patroclus could escape from the river. Farther out to sea was a French frigate that could take care of any ships that eluded the blockade by the ship of the line.
Giles could only proceed. The situation might not be as hopeless as it appeared. The French ship had probably slipped out of Brest when the inshore squadron had been blown off station by the gale. It was quite likely that her crew was not well practiced having been trapped, possibly for months, by the blockade of Brest. On paper Patroclus stood almost no chance against the stronger French ship. In reality, if the French gunnery was not of high quality, Patroclus might stand a very good chance of defeating the enemy, especially as Patroclus’s bow chasers were of a size that surpassed the individual guns of many battleships.
As Patroclus was passing to starboard of the final channel marker, she slid slowly to a stop with her bow slightly elevated. She had run aground! Giles immediately shouted a string of orders to let loose the sheets and to furl the sails, to get the bower anchor into a boat and taken astern so that they could try to pull Patroclus off the sand bank. Other orders involved shifting some of the cannons to the stern. Only when these matters had been attended to did Giles look questioningly at the master, Mr. Brooks.
A New War Page 21
