Fortune And Glory (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 5)

by Andrew Wareham

  The rifles in the tops found targets, shot repeatedly, a dozen rounds between them in the first two minutes.

  "They have cleared the quarterdeck, sir. The admiral and his people, sir, all down!"

  Nias was inclined to disapprove. It was ill-mannered to target the enemy's leaders in such a fashion - one did not do so!

  "Very sensible, sir. I detect Mr Murray's hand here, I believe."

  The leading ship sheered away, some surviving officer deciding things were too hot for his taste, probably a young lieutenant not knowing what to do and preferring to make his mind up elsewhere.

  "Change target to second ship!"

  They began to exchange broadsides, the second frigate coming parallel a cable distant.

  "How long till sunset, Mr Nias?"

  "Forty minutes, sir. Third frigate is breaking the line, sir, hardening up to cross our stern at a guess."

  "Point up, Mr Nias, as if to attempt to open the range, sir. And then, sir, if possible, come hard over to run between them, firing both sides. They will be less willing to fire into us, and possibly each other, so will aim high, into our rigging, I trust. Warn the men in the tops."

  There was a concerted rush to the deck, the sharpshooters having no wish to stay in the way of broadsides of grape and chain.

  "Now, sir!"

  "Do it, Mr Nias!"

  Nias delayed a second for the roll, called the men to the sheets, ordered the helm down, turning Trident until she was running almost before the wind, forging ahead between the two frigates.

  "As they bear, Mr Archbold."

  Archbold had used his initiative, had reloaded grape over ball after the last broadside. Bennet, able at last to use the chasers, had done the same, shot into the French forecastle with his thirty-two pounders.

  The second frigate fell out of line as her foremast tumbled; simultaneously the third poured a well-laid broadside into Trident.

  Men fell; one of the guns dismounted; three others without the crew to serve them.

  "One more of those and we are defeated, sir."

  "Wear ship, Mr Nias. Close her as if intending to board. Watch the admiral."

  More men dropped as a distant broadside came from the fourth frigate.

  "Shy, sir! She has presented her side at half a mile, has no great wish to close."

  Frederick nodded, took a deep breath, bellowed to Bennet.

  "Target the fourth ship, Mr Bennet!"

  "I suspect that a few of the chaser's rounds will encourage her to keep her distance."

  "Flag hoist from the admiral, sir."

  They had no knowledge of the French codes, waited a few seconds to discover what would happen.

  "Discontinuing the action, sir. They are hauling off, not fancying a night engagement. That damned fool is tacking, sir!"

  It was known that a French captain who disobeyed orders from his admiral stood a high chance of losing his head. It was probable that the order had been to close on the pennant ship and that the third frigate was obeying literally.

  "Hold fire, Mr Archbold! Double shot with ball, wait for her stern. At my order!"

  A minute of silence, first and second frigates withdrawing, the third no longer bearing.

  "What is number four doing, Mr Nias?"

  "Wearing away, sir, glad to take the opportunity, I suggest."

  "Rare, that. I have known Frogs to be bad seamen on occasion, but I have never come across one who was shy. Their captains are normally appointed on merit, far fewer by patronage. It happens, in every navy, one imagines, that a coward surfaces - but it ain't common amongst them."

  "Coming on, sir..."

  Archbold was running along the line of guns, pointing the fourteen still in service. One midshipman was doing the same, McGregor by the size of him, it was hard to see through the drifting smoke. There should have been a second.

  "Lost Fox, by the seem of it."

  "Now, sir."

  "Shoot!"

  Trident heeled to the discharge, another great mass of smoke spread across the deck and over the bows.

  "Very pretty, sir! Falling into the trough - she has lost her rudder, I believe. Two more broadsides and we could take her, sir, provided..."

  "I doubt her consorts would be best pleased by the attempt, Mr Nias. Wear ship, sir, and enter coastal waters. Johnny Turk will not be pleased but we cannot weather the headland in this wind without tacking into the range of the Frogs, and I think we will do better for a night of repairs before we try that."

  Trident would be in a worse position in the morning. The French would also have the night to make repairs and would take men from the sloops to make up their losses.

  "The wind is still veering into the west, sir."

  "I doubt we shall be going very far in the morning, Mr Nias. Especially if that is another set of sails I see to the north. Lookouts aloft!"

  Another frigate was reported closing the French squadron under full sail, anxious to join the battle it seemed.

  "Can we man a full broadside, Mr Archbold?"

  "Take a gun from the port battery, sir, to replace the dismounted piece. Instruct the crews of the chasers to join the broadside as soon as they no longer bear. Yes, sir. We have lost another twenty men, sir, and a dozen in the doctor's hands who may not survive. Add to that the better part of thirty who are in no case to work for a few days, sir."

  "What officers have we lost?"

  "Mr Fox has a splinter wound to the arse, sir. Most uncomfortable for the poor lad, but, mortification excepted, he should be ambulant within the week."

  "An honourable wound, but I doubt he will wish to display his scar."

  "The French prisoners suffered sadly, sir, in that last broadside. No fewer than four balls amongst them, poor fellows! They would have been better off in the hold it transpires - I think barely one in three are whole."

  "At least we have the bulk of our officers still. What of damage, Mr Nias?"

  "Foremast stays, sir. I would not wish to set anything until they are replaced."

  "Five knots if we are lucky, in the most favourable wind. We cannot run away, and will be unable to fight both sides"

  "It might be thought wise, sir, to send a boat away. Mr Murray, for example, should not be taken, and the midshipmen perhaps should not be left as prisoners for years."

  Cheek, present but silent, shook his head.

  "Can't be done, sir. We ain't got no boats, sir. Sunk or drifted away, there ain't none."

  They organised the watches so that all of the men would get some sleep - they should not stay on their feet all night, however much work there was to be done.

  The carpenter reported, announced three feet of water in the well and rising.

  "Must of bin one below the waterline, sir. Pumps, sir, till I can get to 'er, what will need us to be heeled over, sir. If so be we can come to anchor, sir, and shift the port broadside acrost, then I reckons as 'ow I can patch 'er, sir."

  The men could forget about sleep after all.

  "What time is dawn?"

  "Full light a little after six o'clock, landsmen's time, sir."

  Ten hours left, quite possibly their last ten hours.

  "Light the galley fire. Purser to me, please."

  Jenkinson appeared, a blue powder smudge across his cheek.

  "I borrowed a musket, sir. I was used to be a good shot when I was a boy, sir, after geese down on the river, sir."

  "Well done, Mr Jenkinson. Every shot helps. What can we do for the men, by way of something hot? The French prisoners as well, if we have enough."

  "Lobscouse, sir, within two hours. Slush for a fatty base; dried peas; onions; ration beef cut up small; a gallon or two of the red wine; flour to thicken it up. Boiled up and they'll have a good, solid meal in their bellies, a bit of a treat as well. We could maybe throw some of the pickled red cabbage in, just for a taster. Not the sauerkraut, though. I'll ask the cook whether he should grate cheese in besides - there are those who hold the flavour to be mo
st attractive."

  Frederick began to regret his idea, for he would have to be seen to enjoy a plateful too, every man together, all hands pulling in the same direction.

  Four hours of pumping, those of the crew not heaving on the handles trundling the guns across the deck or shifting water barrels deep in the hold where the shot hole had shown itself. Then two hours more to bring Trident back to an even keel and secure the guns and return the ready-use rounds to their racks.

  "Watch below to sleep for two hours, Mr Archbold. Too little by far, but better than none at all."

  "What of yourself, sir?"

  A first lieutenant was permitted to ask such a question, where he thought the welfare of the ship was at stake.

  "There is no sleep in me for the while, sir. You will get your head down while you can, though. Tell Mr Bennet to relieve you."

  Murray was at his shoulder, wearily seeking his attention.

  "The French prisoners, sir, beg to offer their thanks for the meal and for the attentions of the doctor. Their officer was among the lost, sir, and I have been talking with some of their warrants - master's mates, I think. Quite intelligent, one of them, and keeps his ears open on the quarterdeck, listens to what his captain has to say. He told me the admiral had more than once shown worried that peace would be upon him before he could achieve the success he desired. Hence, probably, this battle, sir - it might not have been what he wanted, but it was to hand and could be talked up into a victory which would do his career great good."

  "So, Mr Murray, he will be back in the morning."

  "I fear he must be, sir, if he lives, which I beg leave to doubt. Both Marc and Jean targeted him with their first round. His flag-captain followed, sir. So, I know not who will be acting - the most senior captain, I presume."

  The first light of dawn showed the French in a huddle immediately outside territorial limits.

  "Five frigates - two of them unlikely to join any action today, by the looks of them! We made our mark yesterday, Mr Archbold!"

  "We did indeed, sir. Unless I am much mistook, sir, that is a sloop making sail."

  They watched the small vessel - sixteen of nine-pounders, no conceivable threat, unless she was a fireship, which was unlikely because they could see a full crew sailing her.

  "Hoisting ensigns, sir... No she ain't!"

  They waited for the lookout to offer a more helpful statement.

  "On deck! White flags at fore, main and mizzen, sir!"

  "Thorough. Dip the colours in acknowledgement, Mr Nias. I am damned if I will show the white flag to any Frog!"

  The sloop came to anchor a cable off, under their broadside, wholly vulnerable, no guns run out.

  "Boat, sir, white flag, officer. Post captain, I believe."

  "Mr Murray, do you wish to be seen? Will you interpret?"

  A somewhat muffled voice assented. Glancing round Frederick saw that Murray's face was well bandaged and artistically blood-stained on the visible parts.

  "Just a precaution, sir."

  The boat hailed.

  "Permission to board, sir."

  "Granted. Post-captain's honours, Mr Archbold."

  A test for the young man - a good premier would be ready, would have foreseen the demand.

  A thin rank of marines in passable uniform; boatswain's mates with their pipes; no sideboys.

  "Lost three of the boys, sir and the others are too upset from watching Neddy die slowly from one in the guts, sir."

  Frederick nodded - he could accept that.

  The French captain appeared and saluted in response. Murray spoke quickly to him, taking the initiative, not allowing him the first word and giving Frederick time to make a brief assessment of the man.

  'Forty, or so; bright-eyed, looking at everything; seen the bodies laid out by the rail; knows we are hurt but not broken yet.'

  The Frenchman replied briefly, handed Murray a note.

  "He is captain of the ship that joined last night, sir. Peace was signed at Amiens two weeks ago, sir. The war is over."

  "Prisoners on deck, Mr Archbold."

  "He says, sir, that all prizes taken in the past fourteen days are to be returned."

  "Quite right, too, Mr Murray. All of the vessels in the convoy were taken three weeks ago, so that does not apply. The prisoners must be released to him immediately. Please explain that we have no boats."

  Archbold brought the thirty or so unwounded French on deck, carrying with them their injured and dead.

  "I have explained that one of their broadsides killed many of them, sir. He says that it is unfortunate, but it happens in war. He asks as well whether you are the Captain Harris who travelled to the South Seas."

  "I am, as you know, sir. Tell him so. Explain as well that the savages boarded the French ship which ran aground during the fight, that we were still engaging a frigate and a brig when they took the crew."

  "He accepts your word for that, sir, saying that it is more likely conduct for an English officer than the wild allegations made by the newssheets."

  Frederick bowed in response.

  "He wished to know whether there are French prisoners at Morogos. I have taken the liberty of informing him that the island has returned to Turkish hands and we left none there."

  Frederick bowed again.

  "Make arrangements for all of the prisoners to be released and taken away, Mr Murray. Suggest that it would be tactful was the French squadron to sail before Trident - just to avoid any possible insult or other foolishness."

  The declaration of peace did not mean that the two nations would suddenly come to love each other.

  The French sailed on a course that would take them as well to Toulon as back to Venice; Frederick was too happy to see them go to worry about their destination.

  "Hands to the waist, if you please, Mr Archbold."

  All except the most irredeemably stupid had realised the peace must have intervened in their battle. Apart from a few enthusiasts, they were very glad as well.

  "We will sail for Malta in a few minutes, as soon as the French are a convenient distance away. There, I suspect Trident will be for a long stay in the yard, and I hope that most of you will be sent home to England. There is peace - but the feeling is that it will not last, I must tell you that. Five years from now, at most, will see us back to war again, so I believe. I wish to say to you that I am proud to have commanded you - few ships could have fought as Trident did yesterday, and a ship is only as good as her men! I believe we have just sufficient time for a tot before we make sail, Mr Nias."

  They did not cheer, but there was a quiet murmur of satisfaction at a job well done. Fox appeared from the sick bay, limping and very obviously sore behind and there was a general laugh as the wits asked just what he had been up to and advised him to be more careful next time.

  "Four-water grog, sir?"

  "Neaters, Mr Nias."

  The men much appreciated the rare occasion when they received their rum undiluted. The teetotallers scowled, unable to share in the jollification.

  They sailed, very sedately to the west, unable to pack sail on any of the masts, looking more like a stumpy merchantman than a crack frigate.

  "Pray God there is no storm, sir - we shall not enjoy the lee shore of Crete."

  "How is the barometer, Mr Nias?"

  "Rising, sir, slowly. Gentle, sweet breezes more likely than any gale, sir. And let us be thankful, sir."

  The slow passage gave Frederick time to sit down with David LeGrys to write their report and make up the logs.

  "Admiral Fortescue gave strictest instructions that we might rescue civilians only. Rebels under arms were not to be succoured, I seem to remember, David."

  "Yes, sir. Fortunately, sir, being short-handed we called for volunteers to serve His Majesty and a number of Greek men, being very poor and food stocks low, due to the depredations of the French and the Turk, stepped forward. The war having come to an end we no longer have need of their services but no doubt the Admir
al can find something for them."

  "What?"

  "He will no doubt find an answer, sir."

  The problem of Archbold had to be resolved. If Frederick recommended that he be retained as premier of the Trident then he would probably be employed for some part of the peace - not necessarily in Trident or as a first lieutenant, but given a ship in reward. If he reported that he was not capable of continuing in the role then he would very rapidly become simply another of the many surplus lieutenants lining the beach.

  "He is not yet ready for the position, sir. He would do very well in a sloop with a hundred men, but Trident is too big, too demanding."

  "Yet he deserves my loyalty. He fought well and did his very best."

  "Then perhaps, sir, we must name him for his courage and leadership in battle, and hope that the admiral will understand what should be done."

  "There will be many more lieutenants than berths within a few months, I suspect, and he has no money of his own."

  It would depend on Fortescue, whose reactions could not be predicted without a knowledge of his latest orders from London.

  "We cannot name Mr Murray, I believe, sir."

  "He does not exist, David, was never aboard this ship, though I believe there is a desire that he should share in the wardroom's prize money."

  "Difficult, sir, but not impossible."

  A quick note to himself to allocate the dead first lieutenant's share to Murray. Merritt had been a bachelor and there was no direction for parents,

  "Davidson, sir, is acting-lieutenant now. Will Mr Backham make his recommendation or shall you?"

  "Both, I trust, and that is a point, David. Assuming we can meet the convoy before we reach Malta, can you offer to assist Mr Backham with his paperwork? He may well be at a loss in the novel situation."

  The convoy had met the light winds before them and Trident was able to join them two days out of Malta, to their surprise, all having given Trident up for dead.

  "Looking at Trident, Sir Frederick, I assume that you met up with the squadron of frigates that the Levant convoy reported. Venetian hulls, forty guns, they informed me."

  "Five of them, sir, as my report specifies, one at least of forty-four. One we met in a night action and it burned, I fear. The other four, and their accompanying sloops and gunbrigs, found us off Crete. We bloodied their noses, but we were driven into a lee shore, masts wounded, crew reduced, guns dismounted, and were about to be overwhelmed when their courier arrived with very welcome news of the peace. I fear me they had a victory otherwise, sir."