“Night glass to the forecastle, Mr Kelly.”
The boy would probably see nothing at all, but he had sharp eyes, and the beginnings of a brain to think with.
The lookout pointed towards the boat, holding the glass steady for Kelly and incidentally pointing it true. Kelly delayed a few seconds before running back.
“Cutter, sir. Speedy’s launch, I believe, sir.”
“If it is a launch then it cannot be a cutter, Mr Kelly, despite having three masts and being of a given dimension. Speedy’s largest boat… Crowded with survivors, perhaps?”
“No, sir.”
“Then carrying a message, one presumes. What does that suggest, Mr Kelly?”
“Speedy has observed something of interest, sir, and does not wish to display her presence with rockets. Mr Akers intends also to remain unobserved but close to the enemy he has located.”
“Well done, young man!”
Murray, at Frederick’s shoulder, agreed with the boy’s analysis.
“Bright lad, Sir Frederick! It might be possible to recruit him away from the sea and more into my area of service, do you think?”
Frederick did not agree. He had taken responsibility for Kelly’s welfare and moral upbringing when he had made him one of his midshipmen; he could not in all decency turn the boy into a spy.
“He may have that opportunity when he is older, Captain Murray. For the while I prefer that he should cleave to the path of honour.”
It was a familiar attitude, but it could still irk Murray, the more because he had both respect and liking for Sir Frederick and he knew that the liking at least was returned.
The night airs were light and the launch took half an hour to close Trident and disclose Akers’ senior master’s mate.
“The moon broke through an hour since, sir. Showed a ship and a sloop and maybe five or six of smaller craft, sir. Island boats, sir. Captain Akers don’t think it’s a convoy as they ain’t in lines, sir.”
Half a dozen schooners with a company of soldiers or Marines aboard each; possibly the intent was for the frigate to engage and the small craft to board on the other side. It was a tactic that had been used elsewhere with success, but it depended on surprise, an attack at dawn, the two forces split well apart and the boarders appearing out of the last darkness.
“Return to Mr Akers and instruct him to fall back on Trident and to take station one mile upwind. Nimble to conform, if she is within sight and signal. Now then, what is your name, sir?”
“Hogsflesh, sir.”
“Hampshire man?”
“Comes from dirty Durley, sir, not three miles from Boorley Green.”
“Recognised the name – not uncommon in our parts. Now, Mr Hogsflesh, listen carefully so that you can tell me back the order. If the sloop accompanies the small craft, then Speedy is not to engage but must immediately fall back close on Trident. If they are no more than island boats then Speedy may try to cross them and fire broadsides, but she is not to board, and must then take up her station on Trident. Repeat my order, sir.”
“Yes, sir. If so be as the sloop is running escort then Speedy got to drop back on you for to be protected, like. If the sloop ain’t there then Speedy can sink all she can by gunfire but she ain’t to get boarded at hand-to-hand, sir.”
“Well done, Hogsflesh! All speed back to Mr Akers!”
The boat pulled away, rowing hard, the wind, such as there was, foul for them.
“Two hours at least, Mr Nias?”
“More like three, sir. Full daylight, I suspect before they close Speedy and come aboard her. The oarsmen are tired already for a long night and the sea has a lop on it, just sufficient to make rowing hard work.”
“Mr McPherson, make ready two signal hoists – one to close and sink the small craft by gunfire, the other to avoid action and take station on Trident. Dawn will tell us which should be used.”
“Strip to fighting sail, Mr Nias, but be aware that I will wish to close the Dutch frigate at the earliest moment.”
The Dutchman would have the wind gage and would choose when to begin any action and, initially at least, at what range. Not possessing carronades, the Dutch captain would probably to prefer to engage at a distance.
“Mr McPherson, long guns on the disengaged side to be loaded ball, double-shotted, and to be part-crewed – a gun captain and two handspike men. If small craft attempt to close and board while the Dutchman is exchanging broadsides, then aimed fire, gun by gun, at a cable or so, and not to attempt to reload, the men to join the engaged side. Full crews to the carronades and they to use grapeshot, firing individually at their own discretion and utterly destroying any boarding parties. Sharpshooters will also concentrate their fire on the small craft, as will the Marines and swivels. Chasers at opportunity and their crews may, if they cannot find a target, work broadside pieces.”
“What of surrender, sir?”
“To be accepted but no rescue to be made until the action is over. We are not to take companies of soldiers aboard during an engagement however much they have raised their hands.”
“Clouding over again, sir. Coming down the wind. I doubt Speedy can see a thing now.”
Nias was fairly much unconcerned – the brig was small and lying under bare poles – if she could not see then it was very probable that the Dutch could not pick her out either.
“First light when, Mr Nias?”
“In twenty minutes, by the clock, sir, but the cloud is thickest, I would imagine, to the south and east and that will delay morning twilight by some little time.”
Vague, imprecise and irritating, but no doubt as good an answer as could be made. Frederick restrained his tongue – there was no gain to abusing a man who was doing his best.
“Gunfire, sir!”
A distant series of explosions, high-pitched – six- or even four-pounders at several miles.
“Rockets, sir!”
Climbing in the distance; white, red, white – an alarm signal rather than distress.
“Too close for Speedy, Mr Nias?”
“Hogsflesh in the boat, sir!”
“Close on Speedy, Mr Nias. All sail conformable. Recall to the boat, Mr McPherson, though they will be hard pressed to see the flags in this wind. What of Nimble?”
“Not in sight, sir.”
“Lookouts aloft! It is too early but they might pick up something…” Frederick waited a minute before hailing the mizzen and mainmasts to take a careful sweep around the whole of the horizon.
“I have been taken by surprise already, Mr Murray. If the Dutch have but one frigate and one sloop, whose position we know, then what is, I assume, attacking Speedy?”
“Small cannon, sir… another sloop? More island boats in a second flotilla? Gunboats, even?”
The lookouts reported nothing in sight.
“Gunboats… there is a thought. Small rowing galleys with a single gun – possible but unlikely, because one would expect twelve pounders at least. Hardly worthwhile to risk even a small crew with a cannon that cannot reasonably expect to sink a ship. Too far out to sea, as well, unless they are ship’s boats perhaps. When will that bloody sun rise!”
A slow grey light, crawling out of the east, the cloud heavy.
“Telescope, Mr Rogers!”
The young lieutenant ran to the main topgallants, light enough to swarm high on the slender pole-mast.
“Launch, sir, under sail, one mile distant, closing. Nimble at five miles and inshore, sir, not signalling.”
Nimble could see nothing, was not wasting their time by saying so.
“What of Speedy, Mr Rogers?”
“Not in sight, sir.”
Had she been taken then she must still have been close to her original position.
They waited, the light slowly improving.
“Small craft, sir, three schooners, hove-to, boats out…”
“Picking up survivors…”
Nias put the surmise into words. They waited while the launch came alon
gside and Hogsflesh climbed heavily up the side.
“We was a half-mile off when they came out of the dark in a line, sir, and crossed Speedy – four of ‘em, shooting with swivels and no more than a pair of cannon apiece. Mr Akers got a scrap of sail on the foremast and then the main driver and got under way and put a broadside into the last in line but then the foremast came down and she broached to, sir, and the leading schooner was tacking to come back for more and she rammed ‘er smack in the middle, sir and they both rolled into the trough and they was gone before you could tell of it. Whole thing was over in two minutes, sir!”
“And you came away to report. Quite rightly, Mr Hogsflesh. With three others of the enemy to commence rescue you had no business there. They would have taken you as well.”
“Yes, sir. Lots of men on they schooners, sir. Full of ‘em!”
“Close the enemy, Mr Nias.”
The Dutch did not choose to come to action and used the wind gage to hold off. The schooners rejoined and they slowly, but faster than Trident could manage, tacked inshore and out of sight.
Trident crossed the location where Speedy was lost – a few timbers; a hen coop; a single floating bucket.
“The Dutch are civilised, Mr Murray. Was there any survivors they will have been picked up, but it was very quick. Nimble to close, Mr McPherson.”
A brief message shouted and Nimble made all sail to the north.
“Tack to gain sea room, Mr Nias, at least four miles off the coast when we round the next headland. As soon as we open the coast we shall be able to determine what to do next. What does the chart give us?”
“New Amsterdam and then twenty to thirty miles to the mouths of the Corantijn River – the chart suggests that the coast changes, sir – muddy and marshy, floodwaters sweeping low land away and depositing more, sir. Empty land. The plantations from all I have heard are inland and further down the coast except around New Amsterdam.”
“Then the flotilla we seek must be basing itself on New Amsterdam, for lack of another port.”
“Probably, sir.”
“Captain Murray, what does your reading suggest?”
It was a reasonable assumption that Murray would have discovered much about the Dutch colony.
“Not very much, I fear, sir. The colony is less rich than most of the islands and the slaves are less docile because they have the chance of freedom. There is wild land within sight almost of the farthest plantations. One night’s walk and they may be hidden away forever. So, an active and disciplined militia, always alert for a rising. Other than that, it is an unattractive place and seems to bring unpleasant people to it – the planters are renowned for their brutality and coarseness. Militarily – I do not know, for the reports differ wildly. There are emplacements for guns, but how many and of what sort, no two writers agreed.”
Trident eased her way inshore, slowly and very cautiously, eight miles distant from New Amsterdam and in sight of a small tower, a battery, Frederick presumed. There was no light showing, the whole coast dark.
“Cast off, gentlemen.”
McPherson and Murray in the cutter and the launch, a full Marine landing party of thirty men between the two, the tall figure of Quinlan easy to pick out.
Frederick could not justify landing himself, the battery too small, the plantation house behind it insignificant. The raid was solely for the purpose of gaining information; there was nothing to cut out, no fortification to hold as a base for the eventual invasion.
The boats made the shore, the parties ran up the beach, black figures against the white sands, and spread either side of the tower before attempting their escalade.
The heavy explosion of a single cannon split the night, its plume twenty feet long at least.
“Coastal gun, sir. If she was loaded ball then maybe some of ‘em survived on that side…”
Loaded grape and one of the parties was gone.
A lantern appeared towards the top of the tower, showed three flashes and then was left unshuttered as a guide mark.
“Tower taken, sir.”
“Close the shore.”
The leadsman began his calls as they crept towards the beach. The chart showed a deep-water inlet and an anchorage, hence the tower as a guard. They anchored less than a cable offshore, ample depth to swing with the tide.
Frederick remained aboard – there was still no justification for leaving his ship.
“Launch, sir!”
Three minutes and she was hooked on and a dozen men were hauled up the side and hustled below decks to the Doctor. Murray made his way to the quarterdeck, dumped a small pile of paper at his feet and saluted.
“Signal book and orders, sir. Mr McPherson has the party at the plantation house and will be pulling back at any moment. I spoke the owner and he knows nothing. The tower was commanded by an army lieutenant who died, together with his sergeant. The corporal who was senior knows nothing at all; he is deeply, fundamentally stupid, sir. The quartermaster, or so I suppose he should be called, who collects rations from town and buys in the markets, says that the frigate was sent to escort the merchantmen from Amsterdam but came too late and dares not return without them, or some prize to replace them. They had collected a few island boats together to carry a battalion to raid Georgetown and take the ships in harbour there; when they saw you they changed their mind and ran back to Amsterdam and put the soldiers ashore again.”
“Well, that is something to know, Captain Murray. I saw casualties, sir.”
“Lost Mr Quinlan, sir. He was at the head, of course, and was struck by the one ball fired, not ten yards from the muzzle. Nothing remains of him except what can be collected by brush and shovel. The muzzle flash, the ‘plume’, it is called?”
Frederick nodded.
“Was very long and burned a dozen of the Marines, more or less severely, and some were knocked down by the wind of the ball. At least of thirty-two pounds, sir – a long coastal piece.”
“Just the one gun?”
“Four, sir, but it would seem that only one was loaded, and that was touched off by the sentry, the crews asleep in their quarters.”
“Coastal guns are not to be fired at night when they cannot see their target, of course, Captain Murray. Was Sergeant Benson hurt?”
“Not at all, sir. He was at the rear of the party because Mr Quinlan was at the front.”
Neither commented on how fortunate an occurrence that was.
“Mr Kelly! Go ashore in the launch and bid Mr McPherson to destroy the four guns and to set a fuze to the magazine. He has slow match with him. The guns are to be loaded very full of powder and to have rocks wedged inside the muzzles, so as to split them, not merely to spike their touchholes. Repeat the order, if you please.”
Kelly returned the command, word for word.
“Mr Murray, a difficult commission for you, sir. I could wish you to go to the plantation, to the slave quarters, and inform any young men that they are at liberty to take service as seamen aboard this ship. You will also instruct the Marines to hold all overseers and slave drivers under guard at the house and then will throw all gates and fences open. We cannot in law order the slaves to run away, or so I understand our orders, but we cannot either be expected to act as guards in place of their masters. Speak to some of the servants in the house, would be my suggestion.”
“My pleasure, sir. Quite literally, I would add!”
Bosomtwi appeared at the edge of Frederick’s vision, just happening to be seen, saying nothing.
“Mr Murray, you may wish Bosomtwi to accompany you, perhaps as interpreter.”
Only eight young black men came aboard, but Frederick was happy that they were the most enterprising and probably clever as well; they would be useful.
Trident took herself offshore nearly half a mile, the launch at tow, and watched as four little figures ran from the tower and jumped into the cutter, waiting in the shallows, spilling the wind from her sails and with her oars double banked. She set off at remarkable p
ace.
“Should we ever have a fleet sailing race, Mr Nias, we will be well-prepared for a victory.”
“Amazing the stimulus a ton or two of gunpowder can offer, sir.”
Murray had his telescope set and was watching avidly; he said that the path of the explosion would show much of scientific interest.
Smoke and flame jetted; blocks of stone flew and the tower fell; the waters of the roadstead flowered in a hundred eruptions as debris fell from on high.
“Did you see, Sir Frederick? The flame spouted from the top of the tower, as from a furnace chimney, while the smoke and stones blew out from the base in a near-perfect circle and the masonry collapsed downwards into the centre! Fascinating, sir! I shall write a paper for a close friend who is a natural philosopher, and he may well speak before the Society, possibly quoting my name.”
The first sign of vanity Frederick had ever discovered in the man: it made him much more human.
“Soldiers, sir, on the coast road.”
The masthead was not particularly excited – soldiers and their antics were of little interest to the seaman.
“Have they cannon?”
“No, sir. Just foot-soldiers, sir.”
“Mr Murray, would you be so good?”
Murray made his way just as high as was necessary to see the marching column, came down as soon as decency allowed – he had no love for the masts.
“Half-battalion of foot, sir. Garrison troops against a landing, I would imagine.”
“Close the shore, Mr Nias. Mr McPherson, run out the starboard broadside!”
“With respect, sir, they will scatter as soon as they see the guns!”
“And that will save us the bother of having to fire them and cause them much annoyance as well, sir.”
The troops with one accord screamed and ran away as the broadside appeared, much to the entertainment of the sailors who all cheered loudly.
“A day at least to round them up again, Mr McPherson – not a great victory but it is the sort of thing that so amuses the men!”
Murray shook his head, forced to admit that the action had been sensible and practical.
Sugar and Spice (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 6) Page 15
