Lieutenant Fury

by G. S. Beard

  The ship had become strangely quiet again now, signalling that the Amazon was cleared for action with her crew waiting silently at their stations. Fury turned to look along the line of his crews stretching forward down the ship’s larboard side. If they were to go into action, it would be his side which would have to fire first.

  ‘Men!’ he shouted, ‘I want those ports opened and the guns run out like lightning if the order is given, so stay alert!’

  He walked over to where Carlisle was standing.

  ‘Larboard battery ready sir.’

  ‘Very good,’ Carlisle replied, ‘now all we have to do is wait.’

  Chapter Two

  Captain Barber paced casually about the Amazon’s quarterdeck with Lieutenant Douglas alongside him. The sail coming down from the north-west was clearly visible from the deck now, even without a glass. He could make out her frigate’s lines – the low sweeping hull hiding the menacing line of guns behind those closed ports. She was also under topsails only, like the Amazon, and it was obvious that they would pass a little over one cable’s length away from each other – ideal gunshot range.

  Barber had needed his telescope to see that she was flying the tricolour. Even now, he still had difficulty adjusting to the flag of the new French Republic. He looked up at his masthead for the thousandth time, checking to make sure that the Union flag streaming out to starboard had not vanished.

  ‘Mr Douglas, have the hands on deck stationed ready to tack if I give the word. Station some men on the focsle to raise the jib and haul out the sheet to starboard in the event she looks like missing stays.’

  Tacking the Amazon at that time would be critical, and if she missed stays and fell back, her stern would be vulnerable to being raked. If she looked like she would not turn, then raising the jib and flatting the sheet out to starboard would help push the bow round.

  ‘Aye aye sir,’ Douglas replied.

  ‘In the meantime,’ Barber continued, ‘please station yourself at the quarterdeck rail overlooking the waist to relay my orders down to Mr Carlisle and Mr Fury if necessary.’

  ‘Aye aye sir,’ Douglas replied once again, moving away to organise the men before stationing himself at the quarterdeck rail and turning back to watch the captain for his signal.

  Captain Barber strode over to the larboard bulwark with glass in hand to look across at the other ship, her cutwater producing a creamy foam as she sliced through the water. He raised the glass to his eye and scanned her deck. There were small figures rushing about, a speck of blue here and there betraying the presence of an officer. One in particular was stationary, possibly her captain, looking over at the Amazon and perhaps wondering if Barber was Amazon’s captain. He looked down at his blue full dress coat. Once they got closer he would certainly be distinguishable by his uniform. Despite all his precautions he wondered how to play the next few minutes. If they were at peace still, should he give his opposite number a wave as they passed, to signify the friendship of nations? Probably not – it would leave him open to a snub by the French captain.

  He looked forward again, the ships now only about a mile from each other. He could feel the tension of the situation weighing down on him. Could they be at war? Even with only topsails set they would pass each other quickly, and so the Frenchman would have to be quick if he intended to unleash a broadside. The first sign Barber would have of that would be the raising of their larboard gun ports as they approached. He would then have to hope that his own crews would be fast enough to open their ports, run out and train the guns, and then fire before the Frenchman passed out of range. After that, her captain could dash down on Amazon in an attempt to pass across her stern and rake her, so it would be a case of tacking quickly to keep the Amazon’s guns bearing on her and to avoid giving the French ship that chance. With that in mind, the orders he had given were correct.

  On and on they came, the figures on the Frenchman’s deck becoming clearer as they approached. Barber was staring so hard at her hull, waiting for the slightest movement along her side, that his eyes were now beginning to ache, the sunlight reflecting off the wave caps dazzling him.

  They were almost abreast now, the jib boom of the French ship stretching forward and just beginning to overlap the Amazon’s own jib boom. A movement from the forward part of her quarterdeck caught his eye, and he looked to see the man he had seen earlier, now clearly wearing a resplendent blue uniform – obviously the captain – waving to him, his hat high in the air as he shouted something which was whipped away by the wind.

  What a fool he was! The French captain was merely greeting him as they passed, and there he was, expecting the worst with his ship cleared for action. He began to raise his right arm in the air in response, stopping halfway up as the Frenchman’s gun ports suddenly opened.

  ‘Mr Douglas!’ he shouted frantically, ‘Have the larboard guns run out and fire at will!’

  He vaguely heard the first lieutenant acknowledge and shout his order down to Fury on the upper deck, while his own eyes remained glued to the French ship, her guns emerging from her ports like stubby black fingers as her crew hauled on the tackles to run them out.

  Their bows were overlapping now and Barber heard the sound of rumbling trucks as their own guns were hauled out, the noise being cut off abruptly a moment later as the side of the French ship erupted in a rippling fire as each gun bore, the deep boom drowning out all other sounds as the muzzles winked with flame before the black smoke belched out, blowing away towards the Amazon.

  He could not be sure where the broadside went, other than a vague awareness of crashing timber and screaming men down below, the deck heeling slightly with the impact. Almost at once the Amazon’s guns replied as the men quickly trained them and fired, the noise deafening and the deck heeling once more under Barber’s feet from the recoil.

  The men down below would be choking now as the smoke from the guns was blown back in through the ports by the brisk westerly wind. Nevertheless they had done well, Barber could admit that. Even with the head start from the French ship, the Amazon’s broadside had followed closely on the heels of the enemy’s.

  Lieutenant Douglas was next to him now looking out across the sea at their antagonist, already almost past them 200 yards away. Her name could be clearly seen now emblazoned across her transom. Thetis.

  ‘Mr Douglas, I believe we are at war.’

  Barber said the words calmly, as if he were merely commenting on the weather. Lieutenant Douglas stared at him for a moment with a wry smile creasing his face.

  ‘Aye sir!’

  As they watched, her transom seemed to foreshorten as she began the slow turn to bring her before the wind in an attempt to pass astern of the Amazon and rake her.

  ‘We’ll tack the ship if you please, Mr Douglas,’ Barber said matter-of-factly.

  ‘Aye aye sir,’ Douglas replied, walking over to the binnacle to pick up a speaking trumpet to make himself heard.

  ‘Ready about! Stations for stays!’

  An unnecessary order considering the men had been ready at their stations for some time.

  ‘Ready! Ready! Ease down the helm!’

  The helmsman turned the spokes of the wheel through his fingers to port, the ship’s bow gradually coming round towards the direction of the wind.

  Barber looked over to where Thetis was swooping down on them, Amazon still broadside on to her now she was beginning to come up into the wind. Even as he watched, her side lit up once more as she loosed another broadside into Amazon’s hull, more screams and crashes from below combined with what sounded like falling blocks from above. He looked up quickly but could see no major damage aloft.

  Almost instantaneously Amazon’s own broadside thundered out below, the smoke clearing quickly to give him a good view of the scars along the hull of the Thetis from Amazon’s twelve-pounders. The men were aiming well, he thought.

  ‘Helms alee!’

  Douglas was still shouting orders to bring the Amazon on to her new tack,
stolidly ignoring the hail of shot which had just passed. The wheel was now hard over and the Amazon’s bow was approaching the eye of the wind, her way rapidly diminishing. The men stationed at the foretopsail were loosening off the sheets to spill some of the breeze from the sail and allow her to come up easier.

  ‘Haul taut! Main topsail haul!’

  The men at the main and mizzen topsail braces began to heave, swinging the yards round the other way, ready for the new tack. She was up in the eye of the wind now, all way lost as she hung there for what seemed like an eternity. Would she make it round? No, no … yes!

  Her bow began to swing again, falling on to the new tack and saving Barber the task of ordering the men on the focsle to hoist the jib, as he was intending.

  ‘Haul taut! Let go and haul!’ Douglas bellowed, sending the men on the foretopsail braces heaving to bring that yard round on to the new tack also.

  ‘Full and bye,’ Barber snapped to the helmsman, the man immediately letting the Amazon fall off from the wind until she was approximately six points away before steadying her on her course, keeping an eye on the luff of the topsails to ensure he did not get too close.

  On this course, and with Thetis running before the stiff westerly breeze, there was every chance that they could pass the Frenchman’s stern and rake her. Barber looked across at her again but she was already turning to port, the more northerly direction turning her exposed stern away from the Amazon’s broadside. This captain was no fool. Barber jumped slightly in shock as the Amazon’s guns discharged once more under his feet, followed a second later by another broadside from the Thetis.

  The smoke from their own broadside was drifting away down on to Thetis now, blocking his view, but it was clear that Amazon’s rate of fire was slightly superior to her opponents. The smoke began to pass, revealing Thetis wearing back round to a more south-easterly heading, bringing the wind on her starboard quarter.

  Barber quickly walked over to the binnacle and peered down at the compass card housed within. South-south-west was their current heading. He turned to the helmsman once again.

  ‘Starboard your helm. Bring her round to east-south-east and keep her steady.’

  ‘Aye aye sir,’ the man replied, easing the spokes of the wheel through his hand and peering at the compass card to note the course.

  The Amazon’s bow began to swing round away from the wind, picking up speed slightly as the wind came round on to the starboard quarter. Another succession of crashes sounded as the Amazon’s larboard crews fired on Thetis, followed by a reply from the French ship after a slight pause.

  Looking across at Thetis, Barber could see that she had finished her turn and was now about 300 yards away down to leeward, on much the same course as the Amazon.

  On and on they went, it soon becoming clear that Thetis was on a slightly converging course to that of the Amazon, so that the staggered broadsides crashing out from each ship as the crews reloaded and fired at their own pace, were progressively closer. It was also clear that the Amazon’s gun crews were firing three broadsides to the enemy’s two, although Barber grudgingly had to admit he was surprised at the accuracy of the Frenchman’s fire.

  Another series of crashes rocked the Amazon and Barber saw one of the brass six-pounders on the quarterdeck lifted up and flung back off its carriage like a rag doll, its crew disappearing into bloody fragments as the shot swept through them, splinters flying across the deck from the smashed bulwark.

  ‘Men,’ he shouted, ‘secure that gun!’

  The crew of the neighbouring six-pounder abandoned their job for a moment and dashed over to where the gun was lying in the lee scuppers, threatening to slide about the deck. A quick handful of hammocks from the nettings along the bulwark sufficed to shore up the gun against the ship’s roll.

  Barber turned away from the proceedings and looked across once more to where the distance between the Amazon and Thetis had now shortened to a little over a hundred yards.

  ‘Mr Douglas,’ he said, turning to the first lieutenant who was still at his side, ‘I’ve a mind to run down and cross her stern. Have the men at the braces standing by.’

  ‘Aye aye sir,’ Douglas replied, turning to tell off the men stationed at the braces as Barber strode over to the helmsman at the wheel.

  ‘Starboard your helm,’ he ordered, and once again the wheel spun anticlockwise through the helmsman’s fingers, slowly sending her bow further away from the wind. Barber was looking forward along the deck and over to Thetis to judge when the Amazon had swung round far enough to send her down past the Frenchman’s stern. ‘Keep her at that,’ he ordered the helmsman, just before he judged the course to be ideal.

  He watched as the helmsman straightened the wheel, the Amazon coming round a trifle further before the rudder steadied her on course. Perfect! He smiled to himself.

  The men at the braces were hauling the yards round to catch the wind at the most efficient angle, and the Amazon was now surging down upon Thetis, who was still drawing ahead on the same course, taken completely by surprise.

  ‘Mr Douglas, inform Mr Carlisle to have the starboard battery standing by, ready to fire as they bear.’

  Douglas acknowledged and moved over to the quarterdeck rail overlooking the waist to relay the order. Barber could hear a faint acknowledgement from Carlisle and then thudding feet as the crews dashed over to the other side of the ship to man the starboard battery. Twenty-five yards to go now, with Thetis pulling away on Amazon’s starboard bow, her stern beginning to show as Amazon’s jib boom began to cross her wake.

  Barber fancied he could see panic on her quarterdeck as they watched the Amazon coming down on them, and they may even have started to turn up into the wind in an attempt to throw her stern away from the Amazon’s guns, but it was all too late. They were passing her now and the first gun going off forward confirmed it, followed slowly by each one in turn as they passed.

  Even as he watched, her beautiful stern windows disappeared as the balls smashed through, tearing a destructive path along the whole length of her main deck. The lovely gilt transom had also vanished in a hail of splinters, smashed into pulp by more shot. Over the crash and thunder of the great guns Barber could hear the lighter fire of the swivels up in the Amazon’s tops under the command of the marines, who were pouring a murderous hail of canister on to the quarterdeck of Thetis. It would be interesting to see how long she lasted after that, he mused, the fire now slackening and warning him that they had already passed her stern.

  ‘Quartermaster!’ he bellowed, ‘Port your helm. Come back round to east-south-east and keep her steady.’

  The quartermaster acknowledged and relayed the order to the helmsman, and a moment later, with the aid of the men at the braces, the Amazon’s bow began to swing back to her original course, this time some fifty yards to leeward of Thetis and on her larboard quarter.

  Intermittent firing continued, both from the Amazon’s forward-most guns and Thetis’ aft-most guns, those being the only ones that would initially bear as the Amazon gradually overhauled Thetis to come back up alongside her.

  Looking across as the smoke passed, it was obvious to Barber that some of the larboard-side guns of the Thetis were out of action, numerous empty ports staring back at him like missing teeth to signify the guns were not run out. More earsplitting thunder from the guns down below showed that the men were firing as quickly as ever and there was a decided gap now until the enemy loosed off a ragged broadside, the crash of that followed instantaneously by the sound of smashing wood and stifled screams.

  He began pacing the quarterdeck with Lieutenant Douglas falling in beside him as the two ships glided forward, broadside to broadside. On and on they went, the Frenchman lasting far longer than both Barber and Douglas had anticipated, even if her fire was now slackening considerably. She was probably one of the best ships the French had, with hand-picked crews and experienced officers. Two of her gun ports had been smashed into one jagged hole by numerous shot, and at lea
st three of her larboard guns were now out of action.

  Another crash sounded over to the left as another shot hit the bulwark, sending splinters flying across the deck not two feet in front of the pacing officers, both men watching as three men were cut down amid the hail, one clutching his side as it poured blood on to the deck.

  A shouted order to those serving another of the quarterdeck six-pounders sent them over to the man, quickly lifting him and carrying him down to the surgeon and his mates.

  ‘Poor bastard,’ Barber muttered in a rare show of sympathy.

  ‘Aye sir,’ Douglas replied in agreement. He was convinced the man would probably rather bleed to death than be seen to by the surgeon, nothing more than a butcher in disguise.

  He spared another glance over at Thetis and a movement high above her deck caught his eye, immediately prompting him to turn round and inform Captain Barber, but the captain was no longer at his side …

  Fury had kept pacing up and down the upper deck all the while, he and his gun crews assisting Carlisle with the starboard battery now that their side had disengaged. He watched as the men, pouring with sweat and blackened from the smoke, reloaded, ran out and fired as fast as they could. His own eyes were stinging from the effects of the black smoke blowing in through the open gun ports, the back of his throat dry and hoarse as he shouted encouragement.

  There had been many men killed or wounded. After the casualties suffered in India, Fury wondered how on earth they still had enough manpower to manoeuvre the ship, much less fight. As was customary, he had given the order to throw the bodies over the side like pieces of old rubbish to keep the decks free to work the guns. Perhaps he would feel guilty at the recollection of it afterwards, but now was not the time.

  The Frenchman seemed to be firing solely at Amazon’s hull, probably in an effort to kill as many as they could before boarding. Nevertheless, their rate of fire was slackening noticeably now, providing further encouragement to the Amazon’s men as the long hours of drill took effect.