The Gathering Storm

by Peter Smalley

  'Starboard carronades – fire-fire-fire!'

  The thudding explosions of the squat smashers, belching flames. A fiery, sulphurous fog of smoke and fragmented wad enveloped the quarterdeck. As the smoke cleared, Rennie and his young lieutenant saw the result of their attack. The French frigate had taken the full, concentrated weight of shot through her bow and foremast. Her bowsprit, figurehead and cutwater had been destroyed, and her foremast now fell with a rending crash, the headsails snatched fluttering down amid a tangle of stays and shrouds. The ship faltered and lost headway, and was hopelessly crippled.

  Rennie lifted his speaking trumpet, the metal glinting in the sun, and:

  'Marksmen in the tops, fire at will!'

  From Expedient's fore and maintops, Marine sharpshooters directed a hail of musket fire, plus canister shot from half-pounder swivels, across the French ship's decks. The frigate drifted closer.

  'Re-lo-o-o-o-oad!'

  The carronades rapidly reloaded – sponged, cartridge, shot and wad rammed – and within a minute:

  'Starboard carronades ready!'

  'Aim using the swivel trucks, Mr Abey. Aim – and fire at will.' Rennie, with a grim little nod.

  The carronades turned on their transversible trucks, as Richard Abey:

  'Starboard carronades – point and fire at will!'

  BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM-BOOM

  Now the destruction of the French frigate was complete. Her mainmast trembled, lurched, and went by the board, and the naked ship was dying in the sea, blood leaking from her shattered strakes in telling red slicks. Screams came from her, and pitiful cries and moans.

  Rennie gripped a backstay, felt his eyes fill, and shook his head. To himself:

  'But only a little time since, I wished the wretches all the sufferings of hell ...' Wondering at this spontaneous change of heart, of feeling, of soul. Aloud, as if to purge himself of emotion:

  'They have got what they asked for, by God.'

  And then he saw young Richard Abey's face as he stood at the rail. He was staring at the French ship in appalled silence. A tear fell on his cheek. He turned to look at Rennie, and there passed between them an apprehension that was at once fleeting and profound, that seemed to say:

  'What is this life we have chosen, that brings us to do these things?'

  And the moment was gone.

  Rennie crossed to the larboard rail, and lifted his glass. He had been aware of the unprotected boats all the time during the bloody culmination of the action, and now, with relief:

  'I see Lieutenant Leigh in the pinnace, and our hands at the oars – and at the oars of the boat following. Somehow they have captured a boat.' A pause as he peered, then: 'By God, they have got him in the pinnace ...'

  'Sir?' Richard Abey crossed the deck.

  'Lift y'glass, Mr Abey. Y'see that central figure in the huddle of people in the lead boat?'

  'Yes, sir.' Focusing.

  'That is King Louis. That is the king of France.'

  'Yes, sir. But ain't that – ain't that Lieutenant Hayter, in the second boat?'

  THIRTEEN

  'Tom Makepeace dead?' James put down his fork and stared at Rennie.

  'Aye.' A sigh. 'In the action. And my third, Mr Souter, and a great many others.'

  'That is sad news indeed.' All pleasure in their reunion now tempered and diffused by this harsh intelligence.

  'Aye, it is. This commission has cost us very dear. In least it has not cost you your life, James, thank God though in view of the risks you have took – have been obliged to take – it is a miracle you wasn't killed.'

  'I might have been killed, had not I received very kind assistance, as I explained.'

  'Ah, yes.' Nodding, a glance. 'Well well, we have done our duty between us, and we have got the king and queen out of France, and safe into my quarters in the ship.'

  'But not yet out of French waters. Which brings me again to my request, sir.' Leaning forward over the table. They were in the gunroom – Rennie's cabin being occupied by the royal party – sitting at one end of the mess table over a snatched meal. From above and without came the clatter and crack of mallets and chisels, and scattered splashing as battle detritus was heaved over the side. Rennie poured wine into their glasses, and now shook his head.

  'No no, James. Do not iterate that request, if y'please. I have more than enough on my mind—'

  'We cannot weigh until rudimentary repair is completed, you said so yourself, sir. While we lie here, let me take the gig and go ashore, and bring Madame Maigre away – if I can find her. There is no need of a boat's crew, I can manage the gig on my—'

  'It's out of the question, James.' Over him. 'We must proceed as soon as we are able.'

  'But, surely—'

  'On any number of grounds, out of the question. As I've already said to you.'

  'I know all the grounds, all the objections. I am willing to take my chance. Leave me behind, if you have to. I will follow you home to England.'

  'Sail to England in a bloody gig! Are y'mad, James? Has living in disguise addled your brains?'

  'Greater things have been done in boats.'

  'You cannot mean – Captain Bligh?' An incredulous frown.

  'If he could sail a thousand leagues in a launch, I can sail an hundred in a gig, sir.' Defiantly.

  'Don't be such a damned fool.' Sternly, then, tilting his head: 'Who is this woman, James? What does she mean to you, exact?'

  'Without her protection I would certainly not be sitting here now. Further, she is part of the king's entourage. It would be the cruellest indifference to abandon her altogether, do not you—'

  Over him: 'James, James – I am very sorry, but if she has not been took, she is dead.'

  'We cannot know that for certain.'

  'The attacking party was already advancing from the cliff down the beach by the time you embarked with the royal party, yes? She must've been took then, don't you think so, or killed by a musket ball? Unless ... unless ...' Raising his eyebrows.

  'Unless what?'

  'Unless she was one of them, all along. A revolutionist.'

  'Eh?'

  'Had not you considered it?'

  'Nay, I had not!'

  'But good heaven, you described to me the events leading to your escape from the château with the royal party, through the lanes to the inlet. How did the National Guard know that the king was hid at the château? How did they know to follow you to the inlet? They must have been told. They must have been given information from within, so to say.' He shrugged.

  'You cannot think that Juliette would—'

  'Juliette?'

  'Madame Maigre. You cannot believe that she would be so duplicitous. It's – it's impossible.'

  'Why?'

  'Well, you do not know her, in course, else you would not suggest such a thing. Forgive me, but it is just infamous bloody nonsense.'

  'Why?'

  'What d'y'mean why? I know her. I know her loyalties and beliefs. I know to a certainty that she could never—'

  'Y'know nothing of the kind, James.' Over him, shaking his head.

  'What?'

  'It is wrote all over your face, it is in your eyes. You are infatuated. The woman has took you in, hook, line and gaff.'

  'I am sorry you should think so little of me, sir, when I have done my part as honourable as I could. I reject everything you have said about Madame Maigre. You do not know her.'

  'Well well, I will not like to add to your distress, when ye've been so cleverly duped.' Raising a hand as James began furiously to reply. 'Nay, do not let us argue, if y'please. Whatever she may have accomplished, we have left her behind now, and that is the end of that.'

  'Very well, if you will not allow me the gig I will take the French boat instead.' Standing.

  'What did y'say?' In turn growing angry.

  'I am not under your command, I think. I am not commissioned in the service. I am acting as an independent agent in this, under the distant command of Mr Map
pin and the Fund. I have brought that second boat to the ship, and I have decided independent that I will take it away.'

  'You will do no such fucking thing, sir!'

  They glared at each other across the narrow table. From the deck above:

  'Boats approaching from the east! And two sail of ship from the so-o-o-outh!'

  The two officers ran on deck. Two fishing boats could be seen approaching from the east. James looked at them only briefly, but Rennie peered at them through his long glass. He lowered the glass, stepped to the other rail, and focused the glass on the two ships to the south. A moment, and:

  'Now then, Mr Hayter.' Lowering his glass and turning.

  'Sir?'

  'We must set aside all difference, agreed? Under the circumstances?'

  'In course, yes, agreed.'

  'You are willing to forget all about going ashore, and to return to duty as a sea officer?'

  'I am, sir.'

  'Very good. I am appointing you my lieutenant.'

  'Under Mr Leigh?'

  'You will replace Mr Makepeace, and act as my first. My clerk will write it down later.'

  'Very good, sir. I have no blue coat.'

  'Damnation to dress regulations, Mr Hayter. They have never troubled you in the past, and you have a natural authority as an officer. All I ask is that you apply it on my quarterdeck. We are attacked from the east, and from the south, and will soon be fighting for our lives.'

  'From the east? But surely we have seen these boats before, along this coast. They are only bisquines, are not they? Fishing boats?'

  Rennie thrust his glass into James's hand, and pointed. 'Aye, bisquines, but they are full of troops.'

  James peered through the lens and saw that Rennie was right. The two bisquines had been commandeered. He swung the glass to the south, and peered at the two approaching ships. They were frigates. He returned the glass to Rennie.

  'I beg your pardon, sir. Shall we beat to quarters?'

  'We will first cut our cable and run due west, Mr Hayter. As soon as we are under way we will then clear for action. I hope that's the last bower I lose, I'm running short.' Moving aft to the tafferel.

  'Very good, sir.' James strode to the breast-rail, and lacking a speaking trumpet cupped his hands at his mouth, filled his lungs and bellowed:

  'On the fo'c's'le there! Cut away the bower! Cut the cable!' A moment, then turning: 'Hands to make sail! Topmen aloft!'

  The boatswain's call echoed along the deck. All around him James saw and heard the familiar, pulse-tightening rush and flurry of the ship coming alive. Even in her half-smashed, half-crippled condition Expedient was a man-of-war, and lifted herself to that imperative with a heartening surge of purpose. All activity of repair was abandoned, topmen jumped aloft, sails were loosed and set, and yards braced. The ship swung free, gathered herself and stood west into the wind.

  The master Bernard Loftus ran up the ladder from the waist, stopped short and stared at James in wonder.

  'By God, it really is you, James.'

  'Aye, it is.'

  'I heard you was aboard, but could scarce believe it.' Brushing at his shirt and pulling on his coat. 'I was in the orlop assessing damage with Mr Adgett. How came you—'

  Over him: 'Long story, Bernard, best told when we are at ease, which we ain't just at present.'

  'You are right. We are not.' And he hurried aft, putting on his hat, and calling back as he went: 'Welcome back!'

  James was about to raise his cupped hands to his mouth a second time when Rennie left the tafferel and came forrard to join him.

  'Two things occur to me, Mr Hayter.'

  'Sir?'

  'Before we beat to quarters, the royal party must be got below into the lower deck. They cannot remain in my cabin during an action. Second, how many soldiers protect the king?'

  'Half a dozen, I should say ... Ah, I see your design, sir. Guncrew.'

  'Aye, we are going to need every man we can muster. I fought the last action against the frigate with carronades alone, but that will not answer against two frigates now. We must man as many of our guns as we are able, short-handed as we are. You and I, and Mr Loftus, must take our places at the tackles. And the middies, too. Idlers, waisters, any man that is on his legs.'

  'Unless we can contrive to outrun those frigates, sir. Crowd on sail, beat west, and then run north to England.'

  'We are in no condition to run, only to limp. The chase would be short, and end in disaster.'

  James glanced aloft, then forrard. 'Very good, sir. We must gain the wind, turn and fight.'

  'Aye, we must.'

  'What of the other frigate, though? There is no possibility she will return to the battle?'

  'None. She was dismasted, and drifted away. Her people attempted to tow her with boats, but she drifted inshore away to the north, behind the islets.'

  'Ah. Then there's only the two frigates approaching need concern us.' A faint smile.

  'Aye, those.' Grimly, lowering his voice. 'I cannot pretend that I am sanguine as to the outcome, James. Do not forget those damned fishing boats.'

  James, lowering his voice in turn: 'We have been in dark places before this, sir, with all the odds against us, and we have always prevailed.'

  'Perhaps not today, though. I cannot help feeling – this ain't our fight, James.'

  'Not our fight ... ?'

  'Well well, perhaps with the cargo we carry it ain't the time to say so, you are right. If we are attacked in one of His Majesty's ships then it is our fight whether we like it or no, and we must lift our heads and hearts, and do our best.' A moment, then: 'I will like to shake your hand, James.'

  James held out his hand. 'Good luck, sir.'

  Rennie gripped the hand, shook it, and: 'God bless you, my dear friend.'

  *

  Lieutenant Hayter, coatless and with a kerchief tied round his head, ducked below the hammock cranes as a chopping hail of grapeshot smacked into rigging and timber just over his head. Splinters and frayed fragments of tarred cable spun and scattered. A fragment cut his cheek, and another nicked the corner of his eye. He winced, sucked in a breath, and stumbled to his feet. Tears streamed from the cut eye, mingled with drips of blood.

  'Re-lo-o-o-o-ad!'

  Crack! Crack! Crack-crack!

  Canister shot sang, and bit into everything it hit, thudding, pocking, lethal.

  James ran aft, and found Rennie standing with apparent calm by the binnacle, holding his glass under his arm. Ducking as more shot fizzed and whirred across the deck, James:

  'Sir, I must ask leave to put a proposal, before it is too late.'

  'It is already too late, Mr Hayter.' Calmly, grimly.

  'No, sir, no. I think not.' Ducking again. 'Will not you crouch down, sir?'

  'I will not.'

  James felt himself obliged to stand up straight on his legs. He was half-blinded, and he felt dazed and sick, but he would not allow himself to display weakness before his captain.

  'Sir, I think I must take the royal party out of the ship, and away in a boat.'

  'In a boat, good God! Why is your mind so fixed on boats? It is madness in an action such as this. I will not even consider it.'

  THUD THUD THUD

  Expedient's remaining larboard carronades. The deck shuddered underfoot, and a fog of smoke and grit swirled about the two officers.

  'Sir, if you please, I must press—'

  'I will not hear any more! Return to your station, sir.'

  'Christ's blood, will not you listen! It is their only chance!'

  Lieutenant Hayter had spoken with such vehemence and conviction that Captain Rennie turned to look at him, as smoke boiled all round. And was forced to admit to himself that the lieutenant was probably right.

  'Sir, we must strike very soon, else be blown to pulp and matchwood. If I can get away in a boat with the king, hide among the islets, and then make for England, there is hope for His Majesty yet. If he is took, there will be none. He will be execute
d.'

  'Nay, James.' Shocked. 'Not even the revolutionists would commit so foul a crime as regicide.'

  'Would not they? Then why has the king fled? Because he does not like their manners?'

  'I imagine because he wished—'

  James, over Rennie: 'They meant to kill him, if he had stayed in France. They mean to kill him if they take him a prisoner now.'

  Rennie looked at him a long moment in the hanging smoke, and at last sniffed in a breath.

  'Very well, James. I must accede to your wish, since you have been in France and know the condition of life there better than I. We will go about and haul in one of the boats lying astern, and get you and the royal party into it. We will fight our guns long enough for you to slip away under our lee.'

  'Thank you, sir.' With evident relief. 'Will you then strike?'

  'And be took ourselves?'

  'Surely that is better than being smashed and killed? With the king gone out of the ship, then it really ain't your fight any more – is it?'

  'I will decide when ye've gone, James. And I'd be obliged if ye'd go right quick. There ain't a moment to lose.'

  'Very good, sir. I will say goodbye.'

  'I hope not permanent, James.' A nod, and he went aft through the smoke.

  The orders given, and Expedient came about. The boat brought in. Expedient continued to fight her guns, and the two French frigates pressed home their attack, while the bisquines hovered beyond the fighting ships.

  Expedient loosed two further broadsides, and under cover of the dense smoke the royal party went into the boat – the pinnace – and James and a small crew pulled away toward the islets. James went with a heavy heart. He knew that his scheme had little hope of success. He knew also that when – not if – Rennie struck his colours, Expedient and all in her would likely suffer very hard at the hands of their vanquishers. Expedient had done very great harm, in French waters. She had destroyed a frigate and a corvette, and damaged the two present frigates, whose people would wish to exact payment.

  'Even if we slip away under cover of the islets, they will certainly come looking for us. And to reach England we would have to break cover and head for the open sea.' James to himself as he stood at the tiller in the stern sheets. 'What chance can there be for us?' Looking over his shoulder at the continuing battle, and the heavy clouds of smoke hanging over the sea.