'Very well, Mr Bourne.' He raised his voice. 'Starboard battery make ready. I intend to haul our wind and rake from forward.' He paused as another enemy ball found their stern. 'You may fire as you bear, Mr Rispin, but take your time, my lads, and reload as if the devil was on your tail.' He nodded to Hill, 'Very well, Mr Hill, starboard tack, if you please.'
Melusine began to turn, heeling over as she brought the wind round on her beam. Gun captains pulled up their ports and drove home more quoins to counter-act the heel. Rispin, leaped from gun to gun, his hanger drawn.
'God damn! Mr Frey, pass word to Tregembo to get my sword… Where the devil have you been, Tregembo?'
'Sharpening your skewer, zur, 'twas as rusty as a church door knocker…' Tregembo buckled on the sword and handed Drinkwater a pair of pistols. 'An' I took down the portraits, zur.' He reproached Drinkwater, his old face wrinkling with a kind of rough affection.
Drinkwater managed a half smile and then turned his attention to the ship. Above their heads the braces were swinging the yards. From forward he heard the report of the first gun and watched the enemy for the fall of shot. He saw splinters fly from the vessel's knightheads. Each gun fired in turn as Melusine crossed the stranger's bow, and although one or two holes appeared in the Frenchman's fore course and several spouts of water showed on either bow, most seemed to strike home. But as Melusine stretched out on the starboard tack she too exposed her stern to the enemy. They fired a broadside and several balls furrowed the deck, one wounded the mizen topmast and holes opened in the spanker.
Somewhere below there rose the most horrible howl of agony and Drinkwater was aware of little Frey shaking beside him.
'Mr Frey,' said Drinkwater kindly, 'I don't believe anyone has loaded Captain Palgrave's fancy carronades. Would you and your two yeomen attend to it, canister might be useful later in the action, wouldn't you say?'
Frey focussed his eyes on the two brass carronades that Captain Palgrave's vanity had had installed at the hances. They still slumbered beneath oiled canvas covers. Frey nodded uncertainly and then with more vigour. 'Aye, aye, sir.' It would be good for the child to have something to do.
Astern of them the enemy hauled into their wake. The Melusine's French build began to take effect. She started to open the distance between them.
'Mr Bourne, pass word for the gunner to report to me.'
The gunner was called for at the hatchways and made his appearance a moment or two later, his felt slippers sliding incongruously upon the planking.
'Ah, Mr Meggs, I want a caulked keg of powder with a three-minute fuse sealed up in canvas soon as you are able to arrange it.'
The gunner frowned, raised an eyebrow and compressed his toothless mouth. Then, without a word, knuckled his forehead and waddled below. Drinkwater turned to Bourne.
'Well, Mr Bourne, whatever our friend is, he'll not get a gun to bear at the moment.'
Hill came up. 'D'you intend to mine him, sir?'
Drinkwater grinned. 'We'll try. It's a long shot, but I'm not certain that he's a national frigate. I have an idea that he may be a letter-of-marque, in which case he'll be stuffed full of men and we cannot risk him boarding.'
'I am of the same opinion, sir. There's something about him that marks him as a corsair.'
'Yes. Now, we don't want him to see the keg dragging down on him so we will put it over forrard and lead the line out of a forrard port. That way he will not observe any activity around the stern here…'
'Use the log-line, sir? It's handy and long enough,' asked Hill.
'Very well. Do that if you please.' Drinkwater looked forward. 'But first, I think you had better luff, Mr Hill'
'Jesus!' Hill's jaw dropped in alarm as the berg reared over them. Drinkwater held his breath lest Melusine struck some underwater projection from the icy mass that towered over the mastheads. 'Down helm!'
Melusine swooped into the wind, her sails shivering, then paid off again as the berg drew astern. Their pursuer, his attention focussed ahead, had laid a course to pass almost as clear as his quarry. That the Melusine could shave the berg indicated that it was safe for him to do so, and Drinkwater remarked to Hill on the skill of their enemy.
'Aye, sir, and that argues strongly that he's a letter-of-marque.'
Drinkwater nodded. 'And he'll be able to read our name across our stern and know all about our being a French prize.'
Hill nodded and Bourne rejoined them. 'Meggs says he'll be a further ten minutes, sir, before the keg is ready.'
'Very good, Mr Bourne. Will you direct Rispin to take watch on the fo'c'sle and warn us of any ice ahead. Take over the starboard battery yourself.'
Bourne looked crestfallen but acknowledged the order and moved forward to the waist.
Meggs brought the wrapped keg to the quarterdeck in person.
'Three-minute fuse, sir,' he said, handing over the keg to Hill who had mustered three sail-trimmers to carry the thing forward, together with the log-line tub. Five minutes later Drinkwater saw him straighten up and look expectantly aft. Drinkwater nodded and leaned over the side. The keg drifted astern as Melusine rushed past, the log-line paying out. Snatching up his glass Drinkwater knelt and focussed his telescope, levelling it on the taffrail and shouting for Quilhampton.
'Mr Q! The instant I say, you are to tell Hill to hold on.'
'Hold on, aye, aye, sir.'
Drinkwater could see the canvas sack lying in the water. It jerked a few times, sending up little spurts of water as the ship dragged it along when the line became tight, but in the main it drifted astern without appreciably disturbing the wake. He wondered if his opponent would have a vigilant lookout at the knightheads. He did not seem a man to underestimate.
Suddenly in the image glass he saw not only the keg, but the stem of the advancing ship. The bow wave washed the keg to one side.
'Hold on!'
'Hold on!' repeated Quilhampton and Drinkwater saw the line jerk tight and then the persistent feather of water as Melusine dragged the keg astern, right under the larboard bow of the pursuing Frenchman.
He wondered how long it had taken to veer the thing astern. Perhaps no more than a minute or a minute and a half. He wondered, too, how good a fuse Meggs had set. It was quite likely that the damned thing would be extinguished by now. It was, as he had admitted to Hill, a long shot.
'Stand by to tack ship, Mr Q!'
Quilhampton passed the order and Drinkwater stood up. He could do no more, and his shoulder hurt from the awkward position it was necessary to assume to stare with such concentration at the enemy's bow. The keg blew apart as he bent to rub his knees.
'Larboard tack!'
He felt the deck cant as the helm went down and Hill ran aft telling his men to haul in the log-line. Struggling down on his knees again he levelled his glass. At first he thought that they had achieved nothing and then he saw the Frenchman's bowsprit slowly rise, The bobstay at least had suffered and, deprived of its downward pull the jibs and staysails set on the forestays above combined with the leeward pull of the foremast to crack the big spar. He saw it splinter and the sails pull it in two. There was a mass of men upon the enemy fo'c's'le.
He spun his feet. 'We have him now, by God!' But Melusine had ceased to turn to starboard. She was paying off before the wind.
'She won't answer, sir! She won't answer!'
It was then that Drinkwater remembered the rudder.
Chapter Fifteen
The Action with the 'Requin'
28 July 1803
Drinkwater did not know how much damage he had inflicted upon the enemy, only that his own ship was now effectively at the mercy of the other. It was true the loss of a bowsprit severely hampered the manoeuvrability of a ship, but by shortening down and balancing his loss of forward sail with a reduction aft, the enemy still had his vessel under command. And there was a good enough breeze to assist any manoeuvre carried out in such a condition.
As for themselves, he had no time to think of the loss
of the rudder, beyond the fact that they were a sitting duck. But the enemy could not guess what damage had been inflicted by fortune upon the Melusine.
'Heave the ship to under topsails, Mr Hill!' Drinkwater hoped he might convey to his opponent the impression of being a cautious man. A man who would not throw away his honour entirely, but one who considered that, having inflicted a measure of damage upon his enemy, would then heave to and await the acceptance of his challenge without seeking out further punishment.
Despatching Hill to examine and report upon the damage to the rudder Drinkwater called Bourne aft.
'Now, Mr Bourne, if I read yon fellow aright, he ain't a man to refuse our provocation. It's my guess that he will work up to windward of us then close and board. I want every man issued with small arms, cutlasses, pikes and tomahawks. The larboard guns you are to abandon, the gun crews doubling to starboard so that the fastest possible fire may be directed at his hull. Canister and ball into his waist. Mr Mount! Your men to pick off the officers, you may station them where you like, but I want six marines and twenty seamen below as reinforcements. You will command 'em, Mr Bourne, and I want 'em out of the stern windows and up over the taffrail. So muster them in my cabin and open the skylight. Either myself, Hill or Quilhampton will pass word to you. But you are not to appear unless I order it. Do you understand?'
'Aye, aye, sir.'
'Oh, and Mr Bourne, blacken your faces at the galley range on your way below.'
'Very good, sir.'
'And you had better warn Singleton what is about to take place. Tell him he'll have some work to do. By the way who was hit by that first ball?'
'Cawkwell, sir. He's lost a leg, I believe.'
'Poor devil.'
'He was closing the cabin sashes, sir.'
'Oh.'
Drinkwater turned away and watched the enemy. As he had guessed, the Frenchman was moving up to windward. They had perhaps a quarter of an hour to wait.
'Mr Frey!'
'Are your two carronades loaded?'
'Aye, sir.'
'I think you may have employment for them soon. Now you are to man the windward one first and you are not to fire until I pass you the express order to do so. When I order you to open fire you are to direct the discharge into the thickest mass of men which crowd the enemy waist. Do you understand?'
The boy nodded. 'I need a cool head for the job, Mr Frey.' He lowered his voice confidentially. 'It's a post of honour, Mr Frey, I beg you not to let me down.' The boy's eyes opened wide. He was likely to be dead or covered in glory in the next half-hour, Drinkwater thought.
'I will not disappoint you, sir.'
'Very good. Now, listen even more carefully. When you have discharged the windward carronade you are to cross to the other and train it inboard. If you see a number of black-faced savages come over the taffrail you are to sweep the waist ahead of them with shot, even, Mr Frey, even if you appear to be firing into our own men.'
The boy's eyes opened wider. 'Now that is a very difficult order to obey, Mr Frey. But that is your duty. D'you understand me now?'
The boy swallowed. 'Yes, sir.'
'Very good.' Drinkwater smiled again, as though he had just asked Frey to fetch him an apple, or some other similarly inconsequential task. He went to the forward end of the quarterdeck and called for silence in the waist, where the men were sorting out the small arms, joking at the prospect of a fight.
'Silence there, my lads.' He waited until he had their attention. 'When I order you to fire I want you to pour in as much shot across his hammock nettings then hold him from boarding. If he presses us hard you will hear the bosun's whistle. That is the signal to fall back. Seamen forward under Lieutenants Rispin and Gorton. Marines aft under Mr Mount. When Mr Bourne's reserve party appears from aft you will resume the attack and reman your guns as we drive these impertinent Frenchmen into the sea. I shall then call for the fore course to be let fall in order that we may draw off.'
A cheer greeted the end of this highly optimistic speech. He did not say he had no intention of following the enemy and taking their ship. He did not know how many men knew the rudder was damaged, but some things had to be left to chance.
'Very well. Now you may lie down while he approaches.'
Like an irreverent church congregation they shuffled down and stretched out along the deck, excepting himself and Mount who kept watch from the quarterdeck nettings.
The enemy ship was almost directly to windward of them now and also heaving to. As Drinkwater watched, the side erupted in flame, and shot filled the air, whistling low overhead, like the ripping of a hundred silk shirts.
The second broadside was lower. There were screams from amidships and the ominous clang as one of the guns was hit on the muzzle and a section of bulwark was driven in. A marine grunted and fell dead. Drinkwater nudged Mount. It was Polesworth. Drinkwater felt his coat-tails being tugged. Mr Comley, the bosun, was reporting.
'I brought my pipe aft, sir.'
'Very good, Mr Comley. You had better remain with me and Mr Mount.'
'Aye, sir.'
'Have you served in many actions, Mr Comley?' asked Drinkwater conversationally.
'With Black Dick in the Queen Charlotte at the Glorious First, sir, with Cap'n Rose in the Jamaicky at Copenhagen, when you was in the Virago, sir, an' a score o'boat actions and cuttin' outs and what not…'
A third broadside thudded home. Aloft rigging parted and the main top gallant mast dangled downwards.
'You were with the gun brigs then, on the 2nd April?'
'Aye, sir. An' a precious waste of time they were, an' all. I says to Cap'n Rose that by the time we'd towed 'em damned things across to Denmark and then half the little barky's got washed ashore here an' there…'
But Drinkwater never knew what advice Mr Comley had given Captain Rose in the battle with the Danish fleet. He knew that the Melusine could stand little more of the pounding she was taking without fighting back.
'Open fire!' He yelled and immediately the starboard guns roared out. For perhaps ten whole minutes as the larger ship drove down upon the smaller, the world became a shambles of sights and sounds through which the senses peered dimly, assaulted from every direction by destructive forces. The shot that whistled and ricochetted; the canister that swept a storm of iron balls across the Melusine's deck; the musket balls that pinged off iron-work and whined away into the air; the screams; the smoke; the splinters that crackled about, made it seem impossible that a man could live upon the upperdeck and breathe with anything like normality. Even more astonishing was the sudden silence that befell the two ships' companies as they prepared, the one to attack, the other to defend. It lasted perhaps no more than ten seconds, yet the peace seemed somehow endless. Until that is, it too dissolved into a bedlam of shouting and cursing, of whooping and grunting, of killing and dying. Blades and arms jarred together and the deck became slippery with blood. Drinkwater had lost his hat and his single epaulette had been shot from his left shoulder. It was he who had ended the silence, ordering Frey's brass carronade to sweep the enemy waist from its commanding position at the hance. He had pushed the boy roughly aside as he placed his foot on the slide to repel the first Frenchman, a young officer whose zeal placed himself neatly upon the point of Drinkwater's sword.
Simultaneously Drinkwater discharged his pistol into the face of another Frenchman then, disengaging his hanger, cut right, at the cheek of a man lowering a pike at Mount.
'Obliged, sir,' yelled Mount as he half-turned and shrugged a man off his shoulder who had tried leaping down from the enemy's mizen rigging. The smoke began to clear and Drinkwater was suddenly face to face with a man he knew instinctively was the enemy commander. Drinkwater fell back a step as the small dark bearded figure leapt through the smoke to Melusine's deck. It was a stupid, quixotic thing to do. The man did not square up with a sword. He levelled a pistol and Drinkwater half-shielded his face as Tregembo hacked sideways with a tomahawk. The Frenchman was too quick. T
he pistol jerked round and was fired at Tregembo. Drinkwater saw blood on the old Cornishman's face and lunged savagely. The French captain jumped back, turned and leapt on the rail. Drinkwater's hanger caught him in the thigh. A marine's bayonet appeared and the French commander leapt back to his own deck. Drinkwater lost sight of him. He found himself suddenly assailed from the left and looked down into the waist. The defenders were bowed back as a press of Frenchmen poured across.
'Mr Comley, your whistle!' Drinkwater roared.
He had no idea where Comley was but the whistle's piercing blast cut through the air above the yelling mob and Drinkwater was pleased to see the Melusines give way; he skipped to the skylight.
'Now, Bourne, now, by God!'
A retreating marine knocked into him. The man's eyes were dulled with madness. Drinkwater looked at Frey. The boy had the larboard carronade lanyard in his hand.
'Fire, Mr Frey!' The boy obeyed.
Drinkwater saw at least one Melusine taken in the back, but there seemed a hiatus in the waist. Most of his men had disengaged and skipped back two or three paces. The marines were drawn up in a rough line through which Bourne's black-faced party suddenly appeared, passing through the intervals, each armed with pike or tomahawk. Bourne at their head held a boarding axe and a pistol. The hiatus was over. The bewildered Frenchmen were suddenly hardpressed. Drinkwater turned to Comley.
'Let fall the fore course, Mr Comley!'
The bosun staggered forward. 'Mr Frey!'
'Sir?'
'Reload that thing and get a shot into the enemy waist from there.'
'Aye, aye, sir.'
Slowly the Melusines were recovering their guns. There were dead and wounded men everywhere and the decks were red with their blood. Drinkwater followed Bourne down into the waist, joining Mount's marines as they bayoneted retreating Frenchmen. The quarterdeck was naked. If the French took advantage of that they might yet lose the ship. Drinkwater turned back. Two or three of the enemy were preparing to leap across. He shot one with his second pistol and the other two were suddenly confronting him. They looked like officers and both had drawn swords. They attacked at once.
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