The man I was helping was starting to shake in shock and looked at me with wide eyes. The whites of his eyes looked stark against the blood and grime spattered across the rest of his face. It was only when he gasped “thank you sir” that I realised that the man was Jarvis, the first sailor that I had written a letter for just an hour ago. He looked in a bad way and not for the last time in my life I struggled to find words of comfort.
“Hello Jarvis, you just hang in there, you will be all right, Guthrie will be along in a minute to help. Here hold my other hand.”
“I’m dying aren’t I sir?”
“You have taken some wounds but you know what Guthrie is like, he is a top sawbones and he will be here in a minute. Don’t give up, you hang on, think of…” Here I struggled to remember his wife’s name amongst all the others I had written to. “Think of Judy and the boys, think of running that Inn with them. Imagine all those travellers passing by, drovers with flocks to sell you meat, soldiers and sailors with stories to tell, what would you call the Inn?”
“It will be a good house sir” he said, his voice already faint. “You would be right welcome to come and visit.”
At last Guthrie came over and knelt down on the other side of Jarvis. Gently he reached forward and with a sharp knife cut down the front of the seaman’s shirt and pulled the sides back. I nearly retched, there was a huge splinter sticking out of his chest, it was a wonder he had survived this long.
“It is OK Jarvis, look at me now and it will soon be over.” As he said this Guthrie reached across and removed my hand from Jarvis’ neck and the blood once more began to pump from the wound. As his lifeblood spread across the deck I felt his grip on my hand slowly slacken. He murmured “thank you sir” but it was unclear who he was talking to as he was staring between us and then with a shuddering gasp he died. Battles at sea can be strange things, one moment death and destruction and then moments of calm. For me it was quiet as Jarvis died, there was still cries and shouts from around the ship but I just remember putting his hand back on the deck and thinking of that bottle floating in the sea astern.
Guthrie had moved on to someone else and I realised that I needed to pull myself together. I stood up and looked about us. The two French ships had returned to their original courses, straight towards us to close the range further before they fired again. Surprisingly we were still showing a good turn of speed despite the damage to our rigging. Back on the quarterdeck Cochrane was still calling commands. The gap we had been aiming for originally would now involve sailing between the broadsides of two French ships, which would be suicide but we were maintaining our course. Their bow chaser guns now crashed out again but did little damage.
With just a few hundred yards to go before we would have sailed down the broadside of the leading ship Cochrane put the helm hard over and we sailed across their bows. The French warship tried to react and put their helm over to match our move. There was a mighty roar from their guns but the ship had turned quickly, too quickly for their gunners and much of their next broadside seemed to boil the sea with splashes directly in front of us. Enough of the guns though did find their target and these seemed to be firing chain shot which tore through our rigging. Yards and sails were torn to pieces and while Cochrane again tried to change course to pass behind the front French ship, the Speedy was sluggish to respond.
The first French battleship was already frantically reloading and we were close enough to hear the shouts of their gunners from inside their hull. The second French ship would soon be in point blank range with their broadside. We were wallowing in an area that would be covered by both ships and either one of them could destroy us completely. We had barely any sails left, no guns and we were facing three French men of war. Cochrane had one final look round for some new tactic but seeing no escape he moved swiftly to the stern rail and cut the halyard holding our flag with his sword. He hauled in the flag himself while shouting at the helmsman to heave to and point her into the wind.
“That’s it lads” he called as brought the yards of silk inboard. “There is no point going on we would all be killed for no purpose. The French will treat us better than the Spanish.” He looked distraught and his voice cracked slightly as he added “I am proud of you all.” With a tear welling in his eye, he disappeared to his cabin to gather up any papers, orders and the mail and throw it overboard in a weighted bag.
That was the end of the Speedy. One minute we were desperately trying to escape and the next we were a captured prize. Even though none of us had been able to see a way of escaping for the last few hours it was still a shock to find that we had been caught. I think all of us thought that somehow Cochrane would find a trick as he had so many times before to see us clear. While Guthrie and some of the others tended to the wounded, Archie and I just stood stunned at the realisation that it was over. We were now prisoners of war.
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Chapter 18
The lead French ship, which turned out to be called the Dessaix, sent a boat over full of marines to secure their prize and to return with the Speedy’s officers.
I took care to carry my diplomatic papers and packed my other possessions in a kit bag and then, casting a last glance around her tiny blood stained deck we climbed down the side of the Speedy into the waiting long boat. Guthrie had been left behind to look after the wounded and so there was just Archie, Cochrane and myself. The younger midshipmen or snotties as they were known, were also left on the Speedy.
I don’t recall anyone speaking on that trip, there really was not anything to say and I think we were all lost in our own thoughts. We were to be prisoners of war until we were exchanged or the war ended. There had been talk of an imminent peace when we were last at Port Mahon and so we may not have a long captivity. Cochrane was doubtless thinking of the loss of his first command and the court martial that would automatically follow when he was released. I on the other hand was thinking of Jarvis and thanking my lucky stars that the splinter storm that had killed him had missed me. Suddenly I had a flashback of my father talking about the battle of Marburg, he was right, on land and sea war can be a bloody random business.
Once aboard the French warship we were treated with respect. Cochrane formally surrendered his sword to the captain. He was a tall thin Frenchman called Christie Palliere, who to recognise our brave resistance, refused it. We were required to give our parole, or promise that we would not interfere with the running of the ship or try to escape – not that there was much chance of that – and we were then given the freedom of the ship and some bunks in the officer’s quarters. The sinking mail boat was also captured by the third French warship and a reluctant prize crew put aboard. Palliere told us that he had been given special instructions to look out for the Speedy but was surprised that a ship so small had caused the Spanish so many problems. That first evening in captivity Cochrane calculated that during the 13 months that he had been in command of the Speedy he had taken or retaken upwards of fifty vessels, captured 122 guns and taken 534 prisoners. Not bad considering its previous captain appeared unable to catch a cold never mind a ship.
The British fleet had blockaded the French in their ports for many months and we had been told that their lack of sea time would make their ships less efficient as their sailors had less experience of being at sea. These ships had recently slipped past Gibraltar from their Atlantic ports but to my novice eye seemed very capably manned. Cochrane was also impressed, he pointed out that the French sails were cut differently to the British ones. They had a greater expanse of flat canvass exposed to the wind compared to the bellying sails of the British. He told me that this meant that the French could sail closer to the wind and faster. The French clearly had not been wasting their time in port but working on improving their ships.
After a short cruise down the Spanish coast lasting just two days we arrived in Algeciras, a port on the Spanish coast across a large bay from British held port of Gibraltar. We were marched off the ships towards the citadel that over l
ooked the bay. The Spanish were jubilant that the harassment of their coast by the Speedy had been brought to an end and there was more than one clout from musket buts from our Spanish guards to speed the crew on its way. The crew were marched down into the dungeons while the officers and I were housed in a large room in one of the towers. While the French and Spanish were allies we had all felt more comfortable being prisoners under the French tricolour than under the red and gold flag of Spain. The Spanish had many scores to settle with the Speedy. Palliere the French Captain had assured Cochrane that he had given orders that we were to be viewed as prisoners of the French and that he would check on our welfare but this would only last while he was in port, and that did not look like it would be too long.
The main British fleet in the region was the one under Admiral Saumarez, which had been blockading the Spanish fleet in Cadiz. The French had sailed around them to pass through the straits of Gibraltar and into the Mediterranean. The British Navy now had a dilemma, they could not afford to have a group of powerful French warships loose attacking shipping around their main port of Gibraltar but if Saumarez moved to attack them he would release the Spanish fleet in Cadiz. The problem for the British was clear from our prison cell which had a window that over looked the bay. The port of Gibraltar was clearly visible just six miles away. The three French warships were powerful enough to capture any shipping they wanted. Gibraltar was effectively closed until the French were destroyed or driven away.
Cochrane, Archie and I spent our first night in captivity debating what the British would do, we did not have long to wait. The Speedy had been captured on the third of July 1801, we arrived in Algeciras on the fifth of July, the British attacked on the sixth. Cochrane had been invited by Palliere to join him for breakfast on the Dessaix that morning, leaving Archie and I gnawing on stale bread for our breakfast and wondering what we were missing. Suddenly we heard trumpets sounding the alarm and men running and shouting around the fortress and so we rushed to the window to see what was happening. It is the only time I have ever watched a battle from prison which meant that I could enjoy the spectacle without feeling any obligation to join in. The battle also promised our liberty for if the British raided the port then we were bound to be freed either in an exchange of prisoners or from British sailors capturing the citadel. As the British fleet rounded the headland we were hopeful that we would be enjoying tea and muffins with Governor O’Hara that afternoon.
The British fleet was more than a match for the French, comprising of ten powerful warships. Their aim was to capture the French ships and carry them back to Gibraltar as prizes but Admiral Linois in command of the French was equally determined that his ships would not be carried across the bay if he could help it. Using boats and anchors and winches, the French started to haul their ships close inshore so that they could work together with the shore batteries and defend the anchorage. We watched the French hauling away from our window as the British fleet gathered for the attack. To our delight the French managed to run all three of their ships aground with their sterns facing the enemy. They would have wanted to swing them around so that their broadsides could cover the attack but could now only fire with their stern chasers. As they could not fight from the ships, the French Admiral then sent boat loads of his gunners ashore to man the Spanish gun batteries.
With a westerly wind and strong currents in the bay the British struggled to make their way into the anchorage, having to sail past it to the north and then sweep back down the coast. The first two British ships tried to anchor opposite the harbour and pound away at the French ships. The shore batteries, particularly those manned by the French, gave a strong return of fire and the British were forced to slip their cables. We watched in dismay as one by one the British ships fired into the anchorage before being dragged away by wind and current. Eventually one British ship, the Hannibal, turned to sail directly into the anchorage. It seemed determined to sail between the French ships and the shore to capture at least one of them, unaware that the French ships were aground.
The Hannibal went aground herself bow on to the broadsides of the French ships. The remaining French gunners now that they had a target they could aim at took up the challenge with gusto and blasted the Hannibal with everything they had. The shore batteries joined in and we watched with horror as the brave, if reckless, ship took terrible punishment while able to do little to defend itself. The rigging was shot away, the decks were covered in wreckage and broken spars, holes were blasted through the bulwarks and eventually after more than a third of its crew were killed or wounded the commander of the Hannibal, Captain Ferris, struck his colours.
The rest of the British fleet were by then out of sight working their way back around the bay to get back to Gibraltar and consider their next steps. The Hannibal was stuck just a few hundred yards away from where Archie and I watched. We debated whether Ferris should have struck his colours sooner. I thought he should have while Archie thought that if he had done more to lighten his ship then the tide could have got him off the sandbank to escape. The tea and muffins would have to be postponed now but we were not too downhearted. The British would have to try again and with more favourable winds they should succeed. As we watched and chatted boats from both the shore battery and the French ships rowed across to the Hannibal and took command of the ship. What followed was one of the strangest incidents I ever saw.
As the Hannibal had been captured by both French and Spanish guns the joint prize crew could not decide whose flag should fly over the prize. Someone, evidently not a seaman, decided to compromise and fly the British flag over prize but fly it upside down.
“That’s odd” said Archie when he saw it.
“They will probably spend days arguing over who captured it” I replied. “With luck we will have taken the ship back before they make up their mind.”
“Yes but an upside down flag is an internationally recognised distress signal, it means that the ship is sinking and that they need help.”
“But surely people will realise that in this case it just means the ship has been captured?”
“I am not so sure, if British shipwrights help save the ship then they get a share of the prize money. If enough of them come over then they may even try to recapture the ship under the noses of the Spanish if they can get her afloat again.”
I was doubtful but the flag could clearly be seen by telescope in Gibraltar but half an hour later Archie called me to the window again. There across the bay were around twenty launches and cutters all pulling or sailing to Algeciras. It was amazing, just two hours ago the British fleet had been undertaking a full scale attack. But now when an international code for help was flown, the British were sending every shipwright, artificer and seaman they could find to help keep a ship afloat in an enemy port. To this day I am not sure if this was an outstanding humanitarian act in time of war or something driven by greed and opportunism, probably a bit of both.
Whatever it was, it gave the French and Spanish a dilemma. They could hardly open fire on men responding to a distress signal but equally they could not allow them to recapture the ship. Eventually they decided to let the boats board the Hannibal one at a time but then capture the British as soon as they were on the deck. By the end of the day virtually every skilled shipwright from Gibraltar was a prisoner in Algeciras.
Cochrane gave us the details when he returned to us that evening looking like he had been in the wars himself. His shirt was stained crimson and when we first saw him we thought he had been wounded. He explained that when the British had started their attack he had been having breakfast in the cabin of Captain Palliere on the Dessaix. Despite the fact that the stern windows of the cabin faced directly towards the attackers, Palliere had insisted that the attack should not spoil their breakfast and carried on with the meal. With his captor showing such sang froid, Cochrane was not going to show fear and so he tucked in while they watched the battle through the window. Their repast was only brought to a conclusion when a round
shot crashed through the stern window and into a wine bin under one of the sofa’s, showing them with claret and broken glass.
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Chapter 19
The French and Spanish had captured a large number of prisoners, including the shipwrights through unintended trickery and now honour demanded that they be returned. The next morning another British launch sailed into Algeciras, this time under a flag of truce to discuss the release of prisoners. At that time there was no regulated system of exchange between warring countries but it was agreed that all the shipwrights and men of the Hannibal and the Speedy would be released. The ships officers would be released on parole, meaning that they could not resume duties against France or Spain until an officer of similar rank had been released by the British in exchange. There was however one significant exception to this arrangement.
The negotiation to release prisoners took the best part of a day and by lunchtime it was still not clear who would be included. As we were being brought some cold pork and bread for lunch a young Spanish army lieutenant arrived to advise that as I had diplomatic papers I was not considered a prisoner of war and so could leave immediately. He explained that a horse and escort were waiting to take me the twenty odd mile route back to Gibraltar by land. I did not want to leave by myself but it was by no means certain then that the Speedy’s officers would be included in the exchange. Cochrane recommended that I went. “If they don’t want to keep you as a prisoner, you would be a fool to stay. If they don’t let us go you can press the authorities in Gibraltar to push for our exchange.” So reluctantly I said farewell and left them, leaving much of my kit behind for them to bring by boat if possible.
The young lieutenant explained that we had to leave via the Commandant’s office to pick up a pass that would enable the escort to cross the border. I followed him down some stairs and along two corridors until we got to the commandant’s office. He knocked and a hesitant voice called out “enter.” The Commandant was a fat nervous looking elderly officer sitting behind an elegant desk. He beckoned for us to enter the room and I had gone about four paces when the hair at the back of my neck prickled and I whirled round. From behind the door, familiar dark shark like eyes stared back at me above a self satisfied smile. “We meet again senor Flashman” said Abrantes quietly.
Flashman and the Seawolf Page 21
