“They could not reasonably expect to beach them and float them again for another voyage. One would look for flat bottom barges to come aground at low tide and disembark guns or horses or stores before taking the water again at high. But these are not to do so.”
“They are to tie up at a quayside, perhaps, sir?”
“Then the French must plan to take a harbour rather than come across the beaches of Romney Marsh or Sandwich. Ramsgate or Margate, perhaps? I know neither harbour, Captain Murray.”
“Nor I, sir. May I board the poor fellow to the starboard, sir?”
“Close alongside, if you please, Mr Gentry.”
Marc and Jean had done their work with their heavy, accurate rifles; no living man could be seen on the prame.
Six seamen accompanied Captain Murray onto the barge and busied themselves with jibs and tiller to get her under steerage way and end the rolling that threatened her frail timbers with imminent dissolution.
Acheron continued in pursuit of the clumsily fleeing barges, was brought up short when the six remaining of the larger sort all hauled their wind and lowered their flags in surrender.
“There’s a damned nuisance, Mr Gentry. Boats, sir, to take their crews off and fire them.”
It would have been far quicker simply to fire broadsides into them, but their surrender could not be refused and the crews must be taken to safety, the more particularly because they were unarmed. Even ignoring the demands of honour, which said that surrendered men must be rescued, the British courts would have shown no hesitation in declaring such an action to be murder.
It took an hour to complete the procedure, by which time the remaining barges had scattered, a few reaching the shore, some risking deeper waters, a score at least clapping on all they had and coming close to escape, as they might not be overhauled before dark. Murray in his prame joined them before they had fired all of the taken vessels.
“Come alongside, Captain Murray, and we will take you aboard before burning her.”
Murray acknowledged and left his party of seamen to obey.
“Very interesting, Sir Frederick, inasmuch that she had no gun ports at all, nor so much as the ringbolts for a chaser. Wholly a transport, sir. In addition, and this I believe to be significant, she was made all of seasoned timbers!”
“Thus, at a guess, she was intended to be put to use over many years. Was she designed for a single use in an invasion then cheap, green timber would be ample for the purpose. Lightly constructed, so not for maritime trade – she is a river boat, sir.”
The Army had built her, and expected her to be used on the rivers and canals of France and the Low Countries and the Germanies. The invasion was not high on their list of expectations, it seemed.
“Recall the squadron, Mr Horner.”
The barges had scattered to the extent that they would destroy few more of them before nightfall left them too close to the shore in a westerly wind. Better to set a course for Portsmouth in daylight.
Captain Murray took the Mail to London as soon as they entered harbour next day. Frederick, his reports written overnight, made his way to the Port-Admiral.
“Reports to be forwarded to the First Lord, if you would be so good, sir. Copies to you, sir.”
Admiral Girton glanced through the copy given him in courtesy, noted the main facts.
“Twenty-four of barges sunk or burned. Forty of prisoners brought ashore after you were forced to accept the surrender of six of the larger sort, which you destroyed. I note that you consider them to be river craft. Captain Murray to report separately, I see. You conclude that these barges could not be used to make a landing across a beach – they must be tied up at quay or wharf side. If there is to be an invasion, then it must take place by way of a captured port.”
“I understand that Captain Murray will say the same, sir.”
“Defence of the larger harbours is easier than to control every long stretch of sand on the coast, and they know that... They do not intend to come, Sir Frederick, unless some chance changes the balance of power in the Channel. Was there to be an earthquake at Portsmouth, or a sudden hurricane, then they would set sail. Equally unlikely, was their fleet to defeat ours, then they might take the risk. As it is, they have an army of a quarter of a million sat along the coast from Boulogne, all in good training and in their corps and divisions and brigades; their ration trains, such as they are, all have been mobilised and are ready. They have to wait somewhere – why not on the coast as a distraction? It is a lie, sir, a great puff for the diplomats and politicians and newssheets to swallow.”
“And swallow it they have, sir, happily.”
The admiral agreed, then recollected himself – loyalty demanded that he must not criticise his masters.
“What do you intend next, Sir Frederick?”
“A raid, sir, just to cause a degree of irritation before winter closes in. On the coast of Brittany, I think. A cutting-out if it may be arranged, if not, a simple burning of a yard or of a ropewalk or perhaps a warehouse or two. I am quite sure that we may find something that will provide us with flames to toast our fingers by – the men so love a fire, sir!”
“They do indeed! I remember that from the American War – I had a frigate then and took part in more than one piece of business onshore. I can never recall stepping into the boats again without the crackle of flames in my ears. Great fun, sir!”
They laughed together, the admiral suddenly remembering a piece of news.
“Your lieutenant, the boy Andrews, Sir Frederick. I made enquiries of him and was given the word only yesterday. Two thousand in prize money – a huge sum for a boy, too much for him, or so I was told. He chose to stay ashore for two years, and thoroughly enjoyed himself, it would seem. Absolutely penniless at the end of that time, of course, and down on his hands and knees, was lucky to beg a berth of a friend of the family who was minded to give him a second chance. Four years on blockade before he passed his board, and then two years more as a master’s mate before he was finally given his commission, not so long before peace put him ashore again. Never a sniff of prize-money, not on blockade service, and his parents disinclined to look after him when he was ashore for being a wastrel, far less make him an allowance. This berth aboard Acheron was all he could get after the Peace – in and out of the dockyard and pottering about the Channel the meanwhile – he has no other occupation, no income, no prospects and must take what comes his way. He must soon see the end of this commission, too, Acheron may well be sold out of the service rather than taken back into the yard again.”
Frederick agreed – they were pumping for a glass in every watch, her seams taking in water even in calm conditions.
“The master shakes his head and moans whenever I call for topgallants, and, truth to tell, I cannot blame the poor man for she is not fit for service. She is not rotten, that one can say for her, and the hull could no doubt be recovered… but it would make more sense to break her and use the good timbers for the repair of other, more likely ships.”
“So Mr Andrews will be on shore again, it would seem, Sir Frederick.”
“Bad luck for the boy, sir, but unless he shows much more than he has as yet, he will not be a follower of mine, I am afraid. He will have his chance in this action coming; if he seizes it then I shall look after him, as goes without saying.”
“And if he does not then another fifty years old half-pay lieutenant in prospect, Sir Frederick – an aroma of rum and despair surrounding him!”
“We have all seen them, sir. He will have had his chance.”
‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away’ – it was a hard service and made little provision for weak men.
The weather seemed set fair for the time of year and the Marines filed aboard the brigs next morning, Frederick calling Captain Dench to him while he watched.
“A small port with a boatyard, Mr Dench, and a barge or two on the stocks. Warehouses as well would be ideal, and with no signs of the tents of an Army camp o
n the fields outside the town. Identify your target and make a drawing, particularly to show the location of the battery, and carefully placing them if there is more than one. Distant from Brest, as goes without saying! If there is a merchantman in port, so much the better, but that is not to be a deciding factor, sir. The decision has to be yours, and if you are mistaken in your choice then you will hover offshore and watch the squadron die, sir – for, of course, you will not take part in the landing, being too small, and will maintain a watch at a distance for any interfering Frenchmen.”
They established the course that the squadron would take and placed a probable rendezvous.
“Fire a pair of rockets if you cannot discover us, Mr Dench – finding a pinpoint in the Channel is not always easy.”
The Port-Admiral sent a message to every ship in Portsmouth that afternoon, telling them of the glad news of the King’s recovery from his unfortunate illness and of his return to all of his functions. He did not mention that the old gentleman, though having regained use of his mind, had become almost blind and had to have official papers read to him. It was his second recovery and the reaction of all was to wonder when he would next relapse.
Dench brought Bluenose to the rendezvous, on time and without the assistance of rockets and lights; he made no reference to his competence as a navigator – he did not need to boast of his abilities, he implied.
“St Just, sir, set into one of the little estuaries and with a sufficiently wide valley to provide the fields for a town rather than a fishing-village. Large enough, sir, to have its own yard that might well launch a vessel as great as two or three hundred tons – a sloop or a substantial merchantman. A stone quay, sir, and a single battery mounting four great guns. Warehouses and ships’ chandlers, two or three of each; one or two may have been ordinary stores, sir. No sign of military, sir, apart from a small barracks with a flag that seemed to be the quarters for the gunners, I think. There is a possible landing place across the headland, sir, shown on the sketch I have made. There appears to be a track, sir.”
“You are within reason certain, Mr Dench?”
“Yes, sir. I passed across the mouth of the estuary, beating against the wind as if I had orders to make towards Brest, took a tack that quite naturally brought me well inshore, with the Tricolour flying, of course.”
“Excellent.”
Frederick thought for a minute or two, decided that he could not take the risk of relying upon a boy of Dench’s age and experience; he must see for himself.
“Mr Gentry, squadron to make for the port of St Just, to be offshore immediately before nautical twilight tomorrow. I intend to rejoin then or slightly before. Orders will be given on my return, but the expectation is that we shall enter the harbour with the dawn, Acheron and the sloops in line astern. The brigs will have landed the Marines in the cove behind the town two hours previously and they will cross the headland and take the battery by storm before blocking the road leading along the valley inland. On entering the port the landing parties from Acheron and the sloops will burn the shipyard and all repositories of naval stores or army rations.”
“Quite clear, sir. What if you do not return, sir?”
“Assume command of Acheron. Inform Mr Burford of Blackbird, who is senior, that he has the squadron and that my orders were to return to Portsmouth.”
The orders of a dead or captured Commodore could not be held to be binding – the command died with the man – but it seemed a reasonable wager that Burford would do as he was told.
“Bosomtwi, Ablett, we are to go aboard Bluenose and have a look at this place. Inform Marc and Jean, if you please.”
Frederick saw no need to tell them what ‘this place’ might be – they would have been listening.
“Best you are wearing seaman’s clothes, isn’t it, sir. They sees a man looking over the side all dressed in uniform and gold they going to ask theyselves just what he think he doing in a little schooner, isn’t it!”
Frederick meekly agreed; he did not even say that he had had the same thought himself.
Bluenose swept past St Just in the morning light, obviously returning from wherever she had been two days previously. There was no sign of a military presence, other than the battery. They could see men busy in the shipyard, working on the hull of a small merchantman, probably to be no more than a fat-bellied coasting brig, and on two other slips showing the keel and ribs of a pair of barges. There was activity at the three warehouses, wagons drawn up and unloading, sacks lifting to the upper floors on small derricks. It was a legitimate military target.
The tide was low and they could see into the cove where the Marines might land; there were three small fishing boats drawn up on the beach.
“Crabbers or lobstermen, sir,” Dench suggested. “Quicker to draw up here and run the catch over the track and into the market rather than round the headland and beat into the river mouth. I have seen the same at home, sir, on the Cornish coast.”
“Only a small beach to land on. Boats from four brigs would likely foul each other. No more than six together, I would think, and that will demand clever boatwork. Three brigs to land their men here, the fourth to come into the quay.”
“Pride of Lyme to be that one, sir,” Dench suggested.
“Yes, if you think so, Mr Dench,” Frederick agreed, noting definite nods from Ablett and Bosomtwi. “Is there a particular reason?”
It was obvious that there must be.
“I have served with Mr Horrocks, sir. Midshipman when he was master’s mate, sir.”
Better to say no more; the implied accusations were there and it was unnecessary to make them overt.
“When will the fishermen sail, Mr Dench?”
“If they are the same as at home, sir, then late afternoon, work their nets for the evening and half the night and return with the dawn. They want light leaving and entering the river mouth, sir. The lobstermen work more with the tides, sir.”
The initial outline would work, slightly modified; Frederick ordered the schooner back to the squadron.
“Mr Dench will lead the brigs to an anchorage off the cove, Mr Webb in Señora in command and both then patrolling offshore but in line of sight. Night signals as normal, except that blue lights, three in succession, will be the order to abandon the operation, to recover the Marines and to make all speed individually back to Portsmouth.”
Webb and Dench acknowledged the order and the lieutenants-in-command of the three brigs looked even more worried, having no love for night operations, and very little for landing on alien shores.
“Blackbird, Robin and Pride of Lyme will conform to Acheron, in line astern, Pride of Lyme in sight of the flag’s stern light. It will be a small and shaded lantern, Mr Horrocks, and will require you to keep within fifty yards, at most, of Acheron’s counter. You will, of course, be on deck all night, sir.”
Horrocks acknowledged the order, made in front of potential witnesses, impossible to claim misunderstanding at a later enquiry. He could not fall off the line, become lost and return to Portsmouth as the wisest option.
“On entering the river mouth and without further order, Mr Horrocks, you will proceed at best speed to the quay and there land your Marines, tying up and waiting to re-embark them at the close of the morning’s proceedings.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Robin and Blackbird will follow Pride of Lyme to the quay, if necessary bellying up against her, to make their landings.”
Burford acknowledged and Ross gave half a grin; he would definitely ensure that Horrocks had no way out before he cast off.
“Landing parties, gentlemen. Seamen from Acheron will be led by Mr Luscombe to burn the yard, taking care to fire all three vessels on the stocks and to separately set alight all stores of timber, canvas, rope and cables, and of paint, varnish and tars. Mr Andrews will take a party into the ships’ chandlers and will salvage all useful materials and return them to Acheron and the sloops as possible; when the recall is given then you are to f
ire them, sir. Mr Gentry will remain on Acheron, keeping a rigorous lookout to sea. At the first hint of topsails you will fire a gun, sir, and that will be the signal for all parties to return instantly to their ships.”
The three lieutenants agreed that they understood their orders.
“I shall be to hand on the quayside, gentlemen, as visible as is possible.”
As expected – the most senior officer must be immediately accessible.
“Mr Ross, you will take your landing parties to the warehouses, again salvaging where possible but taking care to burn all military stores remaining.”
Ross acknowledged; he could be trusted to loot intelligently, Frederick thought, and keep the men away from the brandy while letting them lay their hands on a few bottles of wine.
“Mr Burford, there were a few of river barges tied up, sir. There may be some there in the morning, in which case you will examine their cargo and sink or burn any and all carrying military goods as normally defined. That done, sir, take command of the destruction of the warehouses and shipyard.”
It was necessary to give Burford, second senior of the squadron, an important role. The shipyard was the sole justification for the raid.
Frederick conferred with the Marines separately.
“Major Campbell, you will be landed at the quay, sir. I would be obliged to you if you was to search out any town guard before marching your party to the road where it exits the township to lead inland. A barricade, if such can be achieved, would be useful. I am not entirely certain, of course, but I believe I saw the tower of a church on the outskirts, and there are often pews to be found there…”
“And churchyards are commonly enclosed by stone walls, sir. I am sure that we will be able to set up a defensive position.”
“There was no tented encampment within sight, Major Campbell, but the valley, in the nature of things, winds its way inland and there could be troops within an hour or two of marching.”
The Odd-Job Man (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 7) Page 9
