The King`s Coat l-1

by Dewey Lambdin

  ’Aye aye, sir.’

  I was your pride and joy, you priggish bastard, as long as you thought you were making Sir Onsley happy, Alan thought miserably. But now you have a new master, you'll cut your cloth to suit Sir George.

  Alan stumbled out the entryway and up to the quarterdeck to the taffrail, as far away from everyone as possible. There was a fair wind that morning, and English Harbor sparkled.

  The breeze that came to him was full of good smells, of green and luscious growing things from shore, the tang of salt and iodine and tidal odors from the strand, raw wood from the dockyard, and the scent of pitch and hot pine-tar as some ship was repaired to windward. It should have been a delightful day in which to be alive, but it was most definitely not.

  That was one of the drawbacks of a man-of-war; the lack of privacy when you had to let go and drop to the deck and weep, not only weep but thrash, curse, scream and pound your fists on something at the unfairness oflife until you were spent. But no one was going to walk around you until you were through and then ask if you felt better for doing it.

  So Alan stared at the shore and gripped the intricately carved taffrail until his hands were white. There was nothing he could say or do in the face of Treghues' moralizing that would make a difference. He was going to become a leper. Treghues had made it clear that he wanted him gone as soon as the Navy could let him, and would also hound him from the fleet. A captain set the tone for his ship. How long would it be. Alan wondered, before Treghues' open dislike spread to Mister Monk, Railsford. Peck, Dome, Cheatham and the rest? Perhaps even David and little Carey would start walking wide to avoid him. Well, he had not planned to make the Navy a career, anyway. He had hoped to make Lucy Beauman, and her father's money, a career, but even being so close to that was no balm for his shattered spirits. Much as he at times hated the Navy, he did not relish being thrown out of it.

  If he were to leave the Navy it would be at his own time, and with his pride and his prize money intact, not as a rejected midshipman but at least as a half-pay lieutenant, which would allow him to hold up his head in public.

  And there was his perverse streak to consider-loathe the life of a sailor as much as he wanted to, curse the demands of the Navy and the deprivations one had to suffer, it was the only thing that he was good at! He could roister and romp with the ladies, play buck of the first head in a company of fellowcocks, dance, drink, wench, run wild in the streets and spend money with the best of them, but that was not a career without a peer's purse. He could navigate as well as any-even with a sextant, one hundred miles out of your reckoning was considered fairly accurate-he could stand a deck watch, could hand, reef and steer, handle a small boat, could handle all the paperwork, much as he despised it, had learned enough to make a good sailor and a fair midshipman, and he was very good with weapons. Where else was he going to be able to do all that? After the Navy, clerking for some firm would be damned dull. No one in his right mind would go for a soldier, and he couldn't afford to buy someone's commission. There was nothing suitable for a gentleman that he could do, or hope to undertake at eighteen years old, with no civilian connections.

  He would have to accomplish something, soon, something that he could point to that even Treghues could not demean, that would gain him so much favorable comment that he would be safe in the Navy.

  God Almighty, listen to what I'm saying… I'm beginning to sound like I want to stay in and be made "post"…

  Even if that was his goal, and he seriously doubted his own sanity if it was, he still had four and a half years as a young gentleman in training before he could stand for a lieutenancy. The rules called for six years on ship's books, two of those years as a midshipman or a master's mate, and proof of age no less than twenty. In another ship he might be chosen as a master's mate, which had a salary to it and would lead quicker to a commission, but would not Treghues' opinion of him follow him in his records? He had seen other midshipmen of twenty, thirty, had heard of men in their forties still midshipmen-too good seamen to be cast out but unable to pass the exam, or having passed, had no luck or interest working for them to obtain a berth as an officer.

  Damme, but this is a hard life, he thought miserably. But. why should I expect it to be fair? I'm not stupid. Would it be better for me to fight back by being cruel and unfair myself, more than I am now, at any rate? Is that the way to succeed? Desperate was at sea, reaching north with a soldier's wind on her starboard beam. For once she had company as she followed the thirty-two-gun frigate Amphion, and was in turn trailed by two sloops of war, Commander Ozzard's VIXen, and another sloop of war named Roebuck. They had sailed north from English Harbor after making their offing, destined for Anegada, a low sand-and-coral island at the eastern end of the British VIrgins. Once there, they had to be careful to avoid the Horseshoe Reefs, where hundreds of ships had come to grief over the years. Commander Treghues had sealed orders, which he had not shared with anyone as of yet, but the presence of four cruisingtype warships in company bespoke a major effort of some kind, and rumors were rife in every compartment.

  Rumors were also flying about what Treghues had said to Lewrie in his cabins. The captain's clerk and steward were silent about the matter, mercifully, and Treghues was also tight-lipped, but it did not stop the wildest speculations.

  People were indeed curious, and expanded on the slightest hints. Treghues behaved as if Lewrie were not there. He paid not the slightest attention to him during the course of his duties, had absolutely no comment about his navigation work when he inspected the midshipmen's slates at noon sights, indeed barely glanced at Lewrie's, and as Amphion led them around Horseshoe Reefs into the lee of Anegada at dawn of their third day at sea it was Carey who had charge of the leadsmen in the foremast chains, Forrester who had charge of the cutter that probed ahead of them, and Avery by the wheel, leaving Alan to bide his time restlessly aft by the taffrail with a signalman.

  Once safely in deeper waters all four ships hove to, cocked up to windward and gently making leeway on the tide to the west, while all captains were summoned to the temporary flag frigate. The conference lasted two hours, at which time Treghues came back aboard and went below with Mr. Monk, leaving Railsford to get the ship underway again. During the course of the day the squadron reached north and south behind Anegada, not straying too far north, nor coming too far south so that they could be seen from Virgin Gorda.

  It was dusk before a conference was held aft, a conference in a hot and stuffy cabin with the transom windows covered, in a ship that burned no lights except for the binnacle lanterns. Treghues had included the midshipmen, master's mates, master, Marine officer and Railsford. Lewrie sat far back from the glossy desk, where a chart was spread out. Treghues gave him a single darting glance of malice before opening the meeting. ’Tomorrow, we raid the Danish Vtrgins," Treghues said. "But they's neutral, sir," Monk said in the buzz of excitement that followed Treghues' pronouncement. ’Aye, they are, Mister Monk. Neutral, but culpable," Treghues said wryly. "Admiral Rodney was most clever to seize St. Eustatius, and keep the Dutch flag flying. He took over one hundred fifty ships intent on running our blockade. But now the word is out and that traffic has shifted to other harbors. At first the Danes winked at privateers using their islands, and the local governors had little military force to control the traffic. We complained diplomatically, and they ordered belligerents and smugglers to move their operations to Puerto Rico or Cuba. but they never seem to put any teeth in those orders as long as the privateers are subtle about their doings. Now our job is to stage a lightning raid as though we are part of the ships based on Tortola. and put the fear of God and the Royal Navy into these people, scour them until they concentrate somewhere else, and force the Danes to play fair.’

  ’Most clever," Forrester said loud enough for Treghues to hear him, which brought a smile from their captain. "By first light Roebuck and Amphion, with local pilots, shall be far enough down the Drake's Passage to look into Coral Bay on St. John, and then run down t
o the west and snap up everything that moves off the port of Charlotte Amalie," Treghues went on, using a pair of brass dividers to sketch a course, tapping at the great hurricane hole and bay on the southeast coast of St. John, which island had been made desolate by a slave rebellion years before and pretty much left to go to ruin. ’We shall enter the open waters south of the island of St.

  Thomas, and head for the island of St. Croix." Everyone leaned a little closer to look at the western end of the Drake Passage, which was littered with rocks, possible shoals and the mark of a wreck or two. "Mister Monk advises the Flanagan Passage for us, south of the island of the same name," Treghues continued. "VIXen shall lead our little flotilla and shall be inshore of us, off Christiansted, going no closer than two leagues to avoid entering Danish waters. We shall be farther offshore snapping up one prize after another. Coming from the east as we shall be, with the sun behind us, with the Trade Winds behind us and with the westerly-setting tide flow, we can catch anything at sea. All ships and prizes shall concentrate here, later in the day, off the island of Vieques in the Passage Group, to the east of Puerto Rico.’

  ’This'll be a bitch, sir," Monk said, scratching at his scruffy chin. "Drake Passage is as lumpy as a country road. Now, there's twenty-four to twenty-five fathoms, safe as houses, down Drake's Passage. It's here off Norman Island, it gets tricky. The chart don't show it but somewhere off the point here nor-nor'west 0' Pelican there's a shoal with a deep channel between that an' another shoal. There's deep water between Flanagan an' The Indians an' Ringdove Rock, 'bout fourteenfathom at high tide. An' ya can't go too far inshore 0' Peter Island to avoid the shoals. I'd feel my way down with the fores'ls, spanker an' forecourse, an' keep the tops'ls at three reefs until we're in the clear.". ’We shall be following Commander Ozzard," Treghues said, disliking the advice. "So I think we should not have too much difficulty.’

  ’But if he sets on one 0' them shoals, sir.. ‘. ’We shall depend on your skill to guide us, Mister Monk," Treghues said, moving on to other matters. "Prize crews. First will be Forrester and a bosun's mate… Weems, I think. and ten hands, if she's big. Next, Avery and Mister Feather. We'll be in deep water, so the third crew will be Mister Monk, young Carey, and some men, depending on her size. Lieutenant Peck, if you should be so good as to provide four private Marines to each prize, in full kit to cow any resistance, I would be much obliged.’

  ’Delighted, sir," Peck said. It was rare that his Marines had a chance to wear their scarlet uniforms at sea; usually they were dressed in slop clothing much like the hands, to save wear and tear. ’Should we be so incredibly fortunate as to take a fourth ship as a prize, I shall send the first lieutenant and Mr. Toliver, which will still leave me a master's mate aboard. Bosun, see that each crew has a quartermaster's mate or senior hand able to steer, and let's get all our boats down for towing tonight.’

  ’Aye aye, sir.’

  There were a few looks in Lewrie's direction. He was rated as able to stand as an acting master's mate, had done so already, in fact, and yet had been pointedly left out of their captain's reckoning. ’If a chase is too small, burn it. We can also ignore the many local fishing boats unless they seem to be heavily loaded, or act suspiciously, or show too many white faces.’

  ’What about putting captives overboard, sir?" Railsford asked. ’Any ship engaged in illicit trade, you may spare the blacks, Danes and neutrals. But any belligerent nationals, and especially any American rebels, or rogue Englishmen, be sure to retain so they may be taken to court for their activities. The French, Spanish and Dutch deserve to be placed in chains, as do any rebels. And any Englishman partaking in this business deserves to hang for treason." 320 Dewey Lambdin By first light Lewrie was on the gun deck below the gangways, swaying uncomfortably as the squadron seemed to fly down the Sir Francis Drake Passage. The Trades were steady and blowing quite fresh. With the wind nearly dead aft it never felt like they were making much gain over the ground since they had no noticeable breeze. The only way to judge was to stand on a gun breech or the jear bitts and watch the many isles and rocks slide past. There was a heavy chop in the passage, sixfoot waves seemingly about six feet apart, and the frigate's four hundred fifty tons thumped and pounded through them, flinging spray halfway up the jibs.

  The crew had gone through the motions of dawn Quarters, the daily scrubbing of decks, like automatons, but now there was a tingle of excitement in the air as they stood easy to their guns. They were piped below to their breakfasts but didn't stay below long and came back up still chewing, to stow their hammocks and resume their waiting among the artillery. ’Mister Railsford, I'll have chain slings rigged aloft on the yards," Treghues ordered, finding work for them to do in the meantime. "Bosun, layout the boarding nettings and prepare for hoisting.’

  Lewrie had been on the quarterdeck earlier and had gotten a good look at Mr. Monk's chart, much marked and doodled on from his years of experience in these waters. He could recognize Norman Island off their larboard bow, could spot the hump that was Pelican Island.

  The locations of those two shoals, of which Monk was so leery, were shadowy guesses in dark pencil markings, and Alan tried to triangulate a possible way to avoid them.

  About five cables ahead of them, half a mile, fuen tiptoed her way a little closer inshore, and Desperate leaned slightly as she wore to follow her around. The leadsmen were alternating tossing the lead from either foremast chain platform, calling out their soundings, which had remained stable at twenty-four or twenty-five fathoms. Desperate drew nearly three, so she was still safe if the charts were right, though that was a big if. Farther ahead and off to starboard a little, Amphion and Roebuck were threading the gap between Flanagan Island and Privateer Point and would soon be able to look into the deep bay which might shelter enemy merchantmen or a privateer ship or two. ’God Almighty, he's found a shoal!" Monk shouted, and Alan took a peek over the bows. VIXen was wearing almost due south, coming about hard and beginning to heel to the stiff breeze.

  There was collective relief as VIXen continued on her new course and a signal flag went up to her mizzen truck, a numeral8. ’Safe, by God," Monk said loudly, leaning over his chart and pencilling in another bit of arcana for the Admiralty to peruse some day in future when he handed in all his charts upon paying off.

  VIXen hoisted another numeral group: 25. She had found their deep-water passage to the south of Flanagan Island, and from what Alan could remember, would encounter nothing shallower than twelve or thirteen fathoms from then on. Desperate wore early, cutting the corner slightly on VIXen's course until they wore due south right in her wake. ’Hands aloft!" the Bosun sang out. "Hands aloft an' make sail! Layout an'let go tops'ls!" They threaded the Flanagan Passage-the Indian Rocks to their east, Pelican Island off their larboard quarter, waves breaking over Ringdove Rock and shoal water shading off from dark blue to turquoise and aqua and pale green. That they did it at nearly seven knots and gaining added a certain piquancy to it all, even though they had found deep water. By the time the preventer backstays and jiggers had been freed and triced up, and the tops'ls hauled down and puffed full of wind, they were on their best point of sail with the Trades on their larboard quarter making over nine knots, heading sou-sou'west half-west, the leadsmen steadily calling out twenty fathoms or better. It was a bumpy ride, as Monk had predicted, but most pleasant all the same. ’Sail ho!" the lookout called almost immediately. "Two points off the larboard bow!" She was VLXen's pigeon, and obviously a belligerent from the way she hauled her wind and turned to run. But there was no escaping the fleeter sloop of war, and before half an hour had passed they could see puffs of smoke as VLXen opened fire. Treghues had his little band strike up a tune. The young drummers and fifers countermarched back and forth by the quarterdeck nettings over the waist, and a couple of landsmanfiddlers joined them to entertain the crew.

  The seas between S1. Thomas and St. Croix were working alive with shipping that fine, sparkling moming, and the crew danced their hornpipes exuber
antly at the thought of action to come.

  They were bearing down on the nearest chase, a full-rigged ship painted like an Indiaman and showing two rows of gun ports. She hoisted Danish colors but continued to flee, which made her most suspicious for a neutral.

  Desperate cut inshore of her as she fled to the west, gybed to the opposite tack and began to close her rapidly. She was deeply laden, so the lower row of gunports was most likely false. ’Still," Railsford bellowed through his speaking trumpet, stopping the people capering and dancing. "Gun crews, stand to, to starboard!" Once within two cables, Mr. Gwynn was sent forward to the carronade on the forecastle and Lewrie drifted up in that direction to take his stance halfway up the ladder to spot the fall of shot. They had not used the carronades much, since "The Smashers" would have made kindling of most of their earlier prizes, but here was a suitable target for the heavy and destructive ball they fired.

  In went a powder cartridge, four and a half pounds of powder. Then a thirty-two-pound shot, hollow-cast and filled with powder and a mixture of grape-shot and musket-shot. Gwynn fiddled with the lay of the gun, and the hands tugged on the swivel platform to adjust it. Gwynn hummed along with the musicians as he slid the quoin out slightly. A carronade had little range due to the light powder charge. ’Ready!" he called, stepping clear and raising his fist. "Fire as you bear!" The gun captain touched the vent hole. The quill took light and sparked down into the charge. The gun barked and recoiled on its wooden slide. The ball struck their chase squarely. The massive ball hit the foe just at the break of the larboard gangway and the quarterdeck, a little ahead of the mizzen chains, and burst with a terrific energy and a satisfying puff of smoke, shrapnel, dust and splintered wood. The chains shivered and the heavy shrouds parted. Her mizzen t' gallant and topmast snapped and heeled over to starboard, yards crashing to the deck and smothering her wheel.