“Mr Warren, secure all other vessels, please. Mr Forshaw, landing party, take the quayside, establish a perimeter, all warehouses inside it. Mr Grant, assist Mr Forshaw then try to restore order in the town. Mr Jackman, secure this ship, spirits room and magazine to go under immediate guard, prisoners to the hold. Mr Atkins… Mr Atkins!”
“Dead, sir. Got unlucky with a twenty four, sir.”
“Careless of him, Mr Warren. Mr Beeton! Lieutenant Beeton, set up a temporary prison on shore – rope off an area on the foreshore, throw any matelots you find into it under guard.”
“Ow! Sir, Lee Ah Man says one schooner is run away, see!”
One enterprising soul had slipped his anchor and left very quietly in a small, fast dispatch runner, was a mile off already, uncatchable.
“Ow! Sir, it is the Dutch governor’s ship.”
A nuisance, because it would carry word to the other armed vessels of the squadron, but there was far too much to do in Nieuw Leiden to hare off in certainly fruitless pursuit.
Order was restored rapidly in the remains of the town. The threat of the French cannon once gone the local population took their revenge for their property and their women. Within the hour those French sailors not surrendered were dead or dying – some could be heard screaming all day.
“Preliminary report, Mr LeGrys?”
“Sir, just listed, without detail, for the meanwhile – national ships are the frigate, ‘Citoyen Marat’, 40, and store ‘Rousseau’, which is a fourth rate, ‘flute’, Mr Warren says.”
“No guns – just a row of empty holes in the wood.”
“Right, sir. Five merchant ships, four of them prizes taken in the last month, one was at anchor here when they arrived – more than twenty four hours ago, so that’s no problem, sir! One officer and eighty men prisoner, about three hundred dead – no accurate count is possible for those on shore, sir.”
“Our losses?”
“One officer and four men dead, nine wounded, two certainly mortally.”
“Good, a promising start. Now for the interesting part of the day’s proceedings!”
“Mr Warren – Marat is yours to take to Batavia, in consort.”
The prize, a ship of equal or greater size than her captor, was Warren’s by right, by custom, and meant, almost certainly, his promotion, though it could not guarantee his employment as Master and Commander – he might have to take passage to India or back to England to wait his turn. In terms of prize money he might do better to continue as first of the Charybdis, and a rare few officers did refuse the opportunity of promotion in favour of staying in a particular commission. In Warren’s case it seemed unlikely, because he was rich, by naval standards.
“Thank you, sir, I am honoured!”
“Has Mr Forshaw the knowledge and ability to become Premier in your place, or should I seek a more experienced man in Batavia?”
“’Get thee behind me, Satan!’” Warren laughed, reluctantly. “He has all that is necessary to be very successful in the role, sir. I don’t like the man, but he is active and able, a thorough-going seaman – it is a pity he is such a little shit with it!”
“True indeed, and I shall miss you, sir! Set about refitting Marat, if you please, and give me a report as soon as you may. Ask Mr Forshaw to come to me please, send Mr Jackman ashore in his place.”
“Mr Forshaw, you will become First Lieutenant, if you please, the place yours as a permanent appointment. We have still another frigate to catch, and though I do not wish to count my chickens, you should be ready for her.”
“Thank you, sir. I am sure I shall be fit for command, sir.”
“Yes, I tend to agree with you, Mr Forshaw. Assuming Beeton obtains his commission in Batavia, we will need another acting lieutenant - Warren or Bruce?”
“Warren, sir – he has the potential, I believe. Bruce will make an outstanding master, might become a good lieutenant, but young Warren is a certainty.”
“I agree. Inform Warren and arrange for Atkins’ uniform to be split between him and Beeton, payment as is fair.”
“Aye aye, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Your due, Mr Forshaw – you have shown yourself to be an active, able, intelligent junior, well fitted to accept greater responsibility. I shall look to you to bring young Jackman on so that he will be ready to step into your shoes when the time comes, and Beeton and Warren both have much to learn about running a watch. You will be a busy man, sir – and I am wholly confident that you will rise to this challenge and present me with a ship at least as efficient as Mr Warren’s.”
Forshaw smiled – he would not be content to be as good as Warren, he would be better.
“Now then, Mr Forshaw – Jackman to take the flute, Simons to the largest of the prizes, a petty officer and good men to each of the others. We will have to escort them to Batavia, cannot possibly afford to lose half our complement in prize crews. What is our damage, Mr Forshaw?”
“I do not have the reports to hand yet, sir. Chips is examining the hull now, and the bos’n is still in the rigging. I believe we took no damage below the waterline, and little enough above. We shall need more mids, sir, four would be better than three, and, with the admiral’s permission we might stretch a point and take a fifth.”
“I hate midshipmen, Mr Forshaw! Lazy, unwashed, gluttonous, spotty, fundamentally stupid and inept – there must be intelligence in modern youth, but it is not to be found in those who choose to go to sea!”
“Very true, sir – yet we do need some to sail the boats and assist with the guns, and they can be handy with working parties.”
“And Mr Cheek has a strong arm, after all. How do we go about finding them, half the world away from Pompey, Mr Forshaw?”
Forshaw chuckled complacently. “Let the word be passed in Batavia, sir. There will always be young men wishing to transfer to a frigate, especially a prize-taker. Some captains will have deserving foremast jacks they want to bring on but prefer them to have their chance in another ship, away from their past companions; and, sir, as well, there will be some useless objects whose captains feel they might do better in another ship, making a new start – but I will see to those, sir.”
“Good. Make it so. We will be tedious short-handed on our passage to Batavia, having to crew Marat as well as put bodies onto each of the prizes.”
“Yes, sir, I had considered that. I will make out new quarters bills, sir, I have the basic ideas in mind.”
“Yes, of course, I should have realised that you would have, Mr Forshaw. Carry on.”
Full light showed the damage done to Marat in their brief onslaught – guns dismounted, ports smashed, deck furrowed, standing rigging slack, mainmast scored, bulwarks splintered. The great benefit of being at such close quarters – point blank range – was that none of the shot had dropped below muzzle height and there was no damage below the level of Charybdis’ guns, the integrity of Marat’s hull had not been compromised and there would be no imperative need to dock her to make repairs. The daylight also showed a great swarm of Chinese and Malay artisans coming aboard and setting busily to work.
“Mr Warren! The shore party, what is its provenance?”
“Dockyard, sir, sent by the Governor, who proposes to wait on you at about midday, after he has dealt with the most urgent business ashore.”
That was a relief – there would be no massive bills sent to a deeply unsympathetic Admiralty.
“They are barbarian filth, captain!” The governor was old, portly, white-haired, red-faced and outraged. “I am alone here, fortunately – but my deputy, the officers took his wife and two daughters, the younger barely twelve, and assaulted them repeatedly. Five of the merchants had families who were caught – young boys as well! Some of their girls died under the treatment they received, how many I do not yet know. What happened in the native town was even more vile, I am told: rape at first, perverted torture as they grew tired and bored and more and more drunk. I request that you will give your prisoners over to
the shore authorities, sir. I promise that they will be treated appropriately.”
It would solve a problem – rations, water, accommodation, all would present difficulties, and guarding a hundred or so matelots in tropical heat would not be easy, they would have to be allowed on deck in simple humanity. Equally, it was clear that the governor’s definition of ‘appropriately’ might not be quite that envisaged by the laws of war; however…
“Your offer is very welcome, sir, but I must ask for a written receipt for them. The Admiralty pays a reward called ‘head-money’, not a large sum but very welcome to my sailors, and they will require proof of the number of men taken. If I might be permitted?”
A quick conference with David LeGrys and a docket was penned in duplicate, brought for joint signature, quickly filed away.
“Ablett, would you go to Mr Beeton, on shore, tell him that the Dutch militia will take over his prison at, say four o’clock, shore time.” The governor glanced at his watch, nodded. “He will then return immediately to Charybdis, delaying not at all at my most stringent command. You will have a boat waiting for his party.”
Frederick turned back to the Governor. “We will sail in two days time, I think, sir – thanks to your help our repairs will be sufficiently completed by then. It would be appreciated, sir, if I could say that all the prisoners were alive in your custody at that time.”
The Governor nodded, the captain could say whatever he cared to but as a courtesy he would erect his gallows on the other side of the hill.
“We had no garrison, captain – even a company of infantry could have delayed them enough to save the families.”
“I will ensure that the Admiral at Batavia is made aware of that fact, sir. One of the prizes we have retaken is a John Company ship – he will certainly hear from them.”
Immediately before they sailed a member of the governor’s staff brought a note to them, with compliments and thanks, the results of interrogation of the prisoners. Frederick scanned the contents, passed it to Forshaw – his second in command must know everything, particularly in fever waters.
“Frigate Nantes, 32, twelves; brig is a nine pounder, two schooners with popguns, as we know. In addition a prize, a large country ship, armed whilst in Nieuw Leiden from other prizes, a mixture of long and short guns, cannon and cannonades, of eighteen, twelve, nine and six pounds and pierced for fifty. A mixed crew, some French, some Malay.”
Forshaw whistled; a heavy, probably teak-built, ship with the fighting powers of a frigate made an unpleasant addition to the enemy strength, partially cancelling the loss of the Marat.
“She’ll need some months to work up, sir, but will be a nuisance for sure. At least we know more of them now – squadron sailed east to survey the coast and report on a possible site for a new colony with access to the Philippines. Rendezvous for Marat not specified – she a faster sailor, to overtake the squadron in a couple of weeks, loading the prizes with stores first. Plan to return to the Mauritius, then make a sweep of the Indian coast before returning to France. Ambitious!”
The Admiral in Batavia was a deeply unhappy man – the Company had already made its displeasure felt and the possibility of being superseded, of being sent home to England, disgraced, his career ended, was very real. He did not have the ships to take over the pursuit of the French, nor the troops to safely garrison even the major settlements, could do very little.
“Your Mr Warren is to be made, of course, Captain Harris, Master and Commander as of this day. I have a sloop for him, her captain wishing to invalid these six months now. Your Marat – renamed! – I shall buy in, and very welcome, too. As a result I must make some youngsters lieutenant and will confirm both of your boys – Beeton and Warren – they look to be of an age and are close enough to their time.”
Frederick was instantly on guard – he had never met the admiral, knew nothing of him, had no interest with him and no claim on his generosity and he must have favourites of his own who could take those two commissions. What did he want, what was the quid pro quo?
“You are under Admiralty orders, Captain Harris. Are you to remain in these waters, sir, or are you passing through, as it were?”
“I am ordered to make an end of the French squadron, sir, and not to cease in my efforts to do so. I must pursue them, I believe, and under your advice, of course, you having more local knowledge in the nature of things, I propose to sail at soonest.”
“Good! I had hoped to hear you say that, feared you might be under orders for India, say. With your Marat I have three frigates and a few lesser vessels and will blockade the Straits and patrol to the south; as well, I have sent dispatches to Madras, Calcutta and Bombay and hope the Bombay Marine will make patrols to the Mauritius. Was you to go south of the islands, through the Gulf of Papua and then northabouts towards the Philippines, then either you or I would bring these Frogs to book, satisfying both our needs. We can never stop the French from making these raids, but with a little determination we can make very sure that they never return from them, Captain Harris.”
The admiral called Frederick to him again on the following day, his ears evidently well battered by the civilians.
“Captain Harris, Captain Warren! Thank you for joining me gentlemen – I have new information which you should be aware of.”
No ship had made port in the past day – it could only be a face-saving formula.
“You are to have a consort, Captain Harris, detached from my command to yours. Captain Warren is to have Cobra, instead of the smaller vessel originally his, and will sail with you.”
Warren, swab shining brightly on his left shoulder, bleary-eyed, head obviously throbbing, smiled sweetly on hearing his name and blessed, wonderful rank, retired into his crapulous haze. Frederick wondered just how many bottles had been needed to get him into such a state, knew that his nephew had been rescued from the harbour having decided to take a swim after his second, whilst Beeton was in the sick berth in near coma; it had been a good celebration.
“Cobra, sir, I do not know her. One presumes her to be locally built? “
“Dutch, I believe, bought in and regunned, originally to be Adder, I am told, her Dutch name a fathom long and impractical. However, as things fell out… she has twelve nines, and six utterly ridiculous forty two pound carronades!”
“Much too deadly a bite for an Adder, sir!”
“Just so. The story is, and how true it is I do not know, that the Master Intendant in Calcutta indented for a siege train from the Carron Works in Scotland, thinking that sooner or later they would need to reduce some of the French forts in India, patterned after Vauban, some of them, very powerful. Be that as it may, some eighteen months later, these six carronades were offloaded at his wharf; Adder was outfitting, so they decided it had always been intended that she should be exceptionally armed, by way of a test or trial, and they renamed her, and sent her south, out of sight, to Batavia. Cobra’s captain will take a frigate now that Marat has set off a chain of promotions, and Mr Warren will read himself in this afternoon, assuming he can see sufficiently to read at all by then!”
They nodded – Warren wincing – the story of the Cobra seemed an all too likely chain of events.
“A broadside of one hundred and eighty pounds at a cable or less – that would give an unwary Frog indigestion, sir!”
“That is why she is to be your consort, Captain Harris. In terms of manning I have been able to be generous, sir – the crews of the prizes you retook had the choice of waiting till the Admiralty Court adjudicated, and then hoping to be hired on when the prizes eventually sailed again, or of volunteering to serve His Britannic Majesty. As they would be earning no pay whilst their ships were tied up in port they would have faced certain problems – the courts are exceeding slow, whilst starvation occurs quite rapidly! They have volunteered to a man, the bulk being drafted to Marat, twenty apiece of European able seamen to Charybdis and Cobra. You will also, no doubt, be able to sign on a number of Malays whilst you are
here.”
They made appropriate noises of applause and thanks – Malays, while commonly skilled seamen, were also fairly slight in build as a rule, lacked the sheer bulk of muscle and bone needed to run the great guns out at speed.
“I am given to understand that the authorities in Nieuw Leiden hanged the French prisoners out of hand, Captain Harris?”
“They sacked the town, sir – brutally. All, however, were reported to us as alive and well when we sailed.”
“Good. Your report says so, I trust?”
“It does, sir, and contains the docket signed by the governor and taking responsibility for them.”
“Very good! Our hands are clean, and Pontius Pilate set a very good precedent. All wrapped up in clean linen. A bad sack, you say?”
“I saw a fishing village in Sicily, some years back, sir, that had been taken by Barbary pirates. Much the same, in terms of vicious brutality, I believe.”
“Enough said, Captain Harris – I saw it in the American War, the savagery of the mob uncontrolled, the evil that lurks only just below the surface, the lash and the noose the sole answer, I fear.”
“Discipline always, sir – it can never be relaxed.”
“I agree, sir – a glass of wine, sir, Captain Warren will be much the better for it!”
Eastwards through the unknown waters south of Java and Bali; anxious navigation, a master’s mate always in the foretop of Cobra, leading for her shallower draught, watching for the colour changes that signalled coral. League upon league of deep blue, broken only by the shark lanes - those mysterious milky white rivers in the sea – and then suddenly, a patch of turquoise, more or less round, and from nothing a dozen more. The lead at work, nosing a slow way round the reef or atoll, almost never an island, then back in the deeps, piling on sail to make up for the nights spent hove-to. These seas had hardly been used by English sailors – Dampier, Cook and Bligh the most noteworthy – and there were no Admiralty charts and very few named features. John Company had no interests in the south and consequently had not explored the area, and the Navy, in the nature of things, was to be found where the traders needed protection; Ferrier took the position of every significant reef they came across, but the little crosses were few and far between.
The Fuzzy-Wuzzy Man (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 3) Page 7
