Their Lordships Request: A Harry Heron Adventure

by Patrick G Cox

  "As you say, Thomas, but I fear for some of our charges. The Maid of Selsey had unsound timbers when we inspected her in Simon's Bay and though they made some repairs, I do not believe she will bear too much of this." He changed the subject, "How do our people fare? And our Dutch passengers?" Captain Blackwood made reference to the group of survivors plucked from a sinking Dutch East Indiaman bare weeks before. "I do not see Mister Heron's youthful shadow about today."

  "The galley fire being dowsed we have had no hot meal since yesterday, but the men are in good spirits, sir. Captain Te Water and his officers have been a great help and taken care of their passengers. I believe the Gunroom's guests have been placed with the ladies in your quarters for the moment sir."

  "Good." The Captain watched as another huge sea lifted the ship from astern, feeling the acceleration as the ship was thrust forward by the combination of the force of the water and the increasing thrust in the sails as the ship rose on the wave. He caught sight of Midshipman Barclay and called, "Mister Barclay! Attend me sir."

  "Sir." Eamon Barclay hurried to the quarterdeck and touched his hat just as a burst of spray sailed over the nettings, driving a stinging burst into his face.

  "Take a glass to the maintop and see if you can spy our convoy. I wish to know their positions relative to our own if you please."

  Barclay's face paled slightly under his tan. He touched his hat again and said, "Aye, aye sir." He hated clambering about in the rigging, especially in these conditions.

  The First Lieutenant watched the Midshipman depart. Barclay's bullying and inclination to shirk responsibility made him unpopular among both officers and men. But Thomas Bell could find pity for the burly young man who did not have a good head for heights or the agility to be comfortable in the rigging. "If you'll pardon me sir," he said. "I must see the Carpenter and the Boatswain. We have been taking a little water and I have several matters I want checked." He indicated the Gunner and his mates presently going from gun to gun, checking, and sometimes re-securing, the guns. "So far we have been lucky."

  "Lucky Thomas?" the Captain smiled despite his fatigue, "Do you not think it owes something to the efforts you and the others have put into ensuring everything is secure? Do not think I am unappreciative."

  -

  At his post by the great double wheel, Harry shivered in his sodden coat as yet another burst of spray drove across the deck. These southern seas were hardly the balmy sun drenched paradise he had expected. Even here, partly sheltered under the break of the Poop, the wind found ways to drive the stinging spray onto a body. He glanced at his friend Ferghal in little more than a sodden shirt and canvas trousers as he diligently watched the half hour glass. The ship's stern lifted yet again as another huge sea surged beneath their keel.

  "Watch your helm," snapped the Mister Wentworth, throwing his own weight on the spokes as the ship began to surge down the face of the swell, threatening, briefly, to veer sharply from her course.

  There was a moment of discomfort as the deck canted steeply and the ship hung between plunge and roll, fighting to swing to starboard against the efforts of the helmsmen to hold her straight and on course. Cries of alarm came from the companionway behind them as the women and children there found themselves being flung to the deck by the violence of the motion. Harry heard the Captain call to him and hurried to where he stood.

  "Sir?"

  "My compliments to Captain Te Water. I believe he is aft with his people, ask him to join me here."

  "Aye, aye sir." Harry touched his hat, feeling the wind tugging at it as he did so.

  He was about to obey when the Captain added, "You may stow your hat and mine sir." He smiled as he handed Harry the hat he had been clutching for the last several hours. "I fear they do nothing but distract us in these conditions."

  Accepting the hat Harry returned the smile, "Aye, aye, sir. I have been afraid mine would join Mister Beasley's and provide a nest for some great bird for a time now, sir."

  "Quite so." The Captain laughed at the image of his officers' hats providing nests for birds. "Well you may rest easy on that head. Now find Captain Te Water."

  ***

  Harry hurried aft, and, after delivering the Captain's hat to his servant, knocked at the door of the great cabin. He waited a decent moment while steadying himself with a convenient handhold and then entered a scene of chaos. Several women huddled together against the bulkhead and attempted to sooth frightened children. Two older ladies were evidently engaged in caring for another who seemed to have injured herself and the group of boys had taken over the seats beneath the great stern windows. From here they were noisily watching the waves and the slashing spray through the glass. Frightened cries from the smaller children and some of the younger women lent confusion and volume to the overall hubbub of their voices. All of it in Dutch and therefore unintelligible to him.

  Harry paused, conscious of the fact that a pool was forming at his feet, and glanced about him seeking out the Dutch Officers as they attempted to maintain calm among their people. He spotted Captain Te Water even as a boy's voice shouted, "Harry is hier!"

  Pieterzoon de Ruiter managed an acrobatic charge to Harry's side and asked, "Mag ik – Kan I go to deck wit' uwe?"

  "I am sorry, Pieterzoon, but the Captain would not allow you to go on deck just yet." Harry responded with a smile. He was not quite sure why this boy had attached himself so firmly and the language barrier was one reason he had difficulty with it. "I must speak to Captain Te Water."

  "Ja Mijn Heer?" The Dutch Master had noticed his presence and came across, eying Harry's sodden clothing and the spreading pool.

  "Sir, Captain Blackwood's compliments, he asks that you join him on deck please."

  "Ik kom," rumbled the Dutchman. "Take me to him." He called to one of the women in Dutch and she hurried over with a large oiled coat. Taking it, the Captain pulled it on, and followed Harry from the cabin, firmly preventing Pieterzoon from dodging after them.

  After the warmth of the cabin the cold struck hard at Harry through his wet clothing and he wondered if it had really become colder or was merely the result of the contrast. Leading the Dutch Captain to the weather side of the deck he informed his Captain, "Captain Te Water sir."

  "Thank you, Mister Heron," Captain Blackwood acknowledged his presence and turned to speak to the Dutchman.

  Harry returned to his post by the binnacle and had barely resumed his task of noting activities on the slate for later entry into the ship's log when there was a hail from the maintop.

  "Deck there! Maid of Selsey's in distress, she's carried away her foretopmast." There was a pause then, "She's signallin'!"

  Another Midshipman staggered to the nettings and sought desperately with his telescope for the distressed ship, "Signal sir," he called. "Am in need of assistance."

  "Damn." Captain Blackwood swept water from his face as a fresh burst of spray caught him unawares, his attention on the other ship. "We shall have to attempt to help – she has above two hundred souls aboard." He turned to the First Lieutenant, "Shorten sail, Thomas, we will have to run down to her and attempt to heave too so we may determine what can be done."

  "Captain," the Dutch Captain interjected, "You risk your own ship in this. I will order mijn manne to assist vere zey can."

  ***

  Harry watched with bated breath as the quarterboat was lowered under the lee of the Spartan, hove to at great risk as she attempted to stay close to the stricken casualty. There were several moments when it appeared that it must be torn from the falls and its occupants drowned as the Third Lieutenant and his handpicked crew fought her clear and then battled the howling wind and spume wracked seas to reach the damaged transport.

  "Damned ship seems full of landsmen," exclaimed Lieutenant Rae. "They have made little effort to clear that ravel. Do they expect us to do all for them yet again?"

  "So it would appear." Captain Blackwood sounded angry. "Her Master seems to have been less than honest about her co
ndition and his men were insolent and idle when I visited them in Simon's Bay." The Captain turned. "O'Connor," he called, "Fetch the Carpenter to me – quickly now."

  Ferghal knuckled his forehead and ran to the companionway to seek out the senior Warrant Officer. He found him supervising his mates inspecting a leaking gunport.

  "Hallo young Fergie," the Carpenter acknowledged his arrival, "What brings yer below?"

  "Captain's compliments, Mister Trotter," he said. "Sure an' he wants you on the quarterdeck."

  "I suppose I'd best be j'ining 'im then." The Carpenter grinned. "Lead the way me lad. Matt, see you make all tight here and keep lookin'. This sea is working her seams bad an' she's tekin' watter in some awkward places."

  "Now then young Ferghal, what does our Lord and Master want of a lowly carpenter?" he asked following the youth. "What has caused our heaving too?"

  " 'T' Maid o' Selsey," Ferghal replied, answering the second question first, "She's lost her foretopmast and seemingly done some damage other where. Sure Mister Beasley and the quarterboat are attending her now – perhaps there is a need for your services."

  "So I should think." The Carpenter frowned. "But in this sea there be little I can do if she is holed below water."

  Arriving on the quarterdeck the Carpenter made his way to the Captain and knuckled his forehead in salute. "Yer sent fer me, sir?"

  "Take a look at the Maid of Selsey, Mister Trotter. She's taken some damage below water I believe. What think you – can your Mates make her sound enough to ride this out?" The Captain handed the carpenter his telescope, adding, "See below her beakhead as she rises. She seems to have overrun her spars and the fools have still not cleared away the wreckage!"

  "Signal from Mister Beasley, sir," exclaimed Midshipman Peterson at the signal halyards. He called out the flags to the rest of his party, and announced, "Assistance required. Ship holed and making water fast." He paused as a fresh string of flags soared aloft, reading the flags and hurriedly searching the signal book. Finally he called, "Mister Rogers asks permission to take off the convicts, sir!" He looked shocked, and desperately checked his book, spelling out the words and letters carefully. "It seems correct, sir," he added doubtfully.

  "Acknowledge Mister Peterson." The Captain's face was grim. To the First Lieutenant he said, "Damme, Thomas, she has upwards of two hundred of the wretches under hatches, over half of them women and children. In this sea it will be dangerous and damnably difficult." He turned to the Carpenter. "I will require you to accompany the boats and see what may be done to keep her afloat until we can affect the transfer. A miracle is needed here, Trotter. Nothing less will do!"

  ***

  The second quarterboat joined the first, struggling through the seas, the red coats of a party of Marines clustered bright in her belly. With huge difficulty one of the launches was also hoisted out, dropping alarmingly into the water in the ship's lee as she staggered against the power of wind and sea. Her crew spilled into place and, under shouted orders, slashed the lashings holding her oars even as the boat surged out on the length of her painter away from the ship.

  An exclamation of appreciation drew the Captain's attention to the cluster of Dutch officers watching the exercise. "I beg pardon Captain," he said, addressing Captain Te Water. "I fear I am a poor host at present."

  "Alles in order," exclaimed the other. "Uwe manne." He paused, then said slowly, "Your men are ver' brave – and ver' goet." His officers nodded their agreement, "Ve vould not haf attempted such a t'ing as this!"

  Harry watched the boats soaring and plunging alongside the stricken ship, seeing the men scrambling into her chains as they struggled to board her. Forward he could see the flash of an axe as someone cleared the wreckage visible under the other ship's bows. Then the process was reversed, with small figures being passed into the boats, struggling and kicking in fright and fear. These were followed by several women and the first boat caste off to begin the struggle back to the Spartan.

  Harry held his breath each time the boat plunged over a steep crest and he could see that everyone not engaged in rowing was bailing furiously as the water seemed to pour over her gunwales and prow with each stroke. A cheer went up from the Spartan as the overloaded boat struggled into her lee. Harry joined Lieutenant Rogers and the hands as they hauled, dragged and snatched the pathetic human cargo from it. A quick change of crew and the boat was away again on its mission of mercy just as the second quarterboat struggled alongside.

  "Staan uwe een kant Mijn Heer," said a deep voice at his elbow. "Uns zal diese werk ondernemen!"

  Harry found himself firmly moved aside and a burly Dutchman took his place, a line around his waist as he reached out and down to snatch a pair of children. Taking one in each huge hand, the man swung the kicking pair almost effortlessly upward to where his companions waited to catch them. In no time at all the boat was emptied and again on its way.

  "Mister Heron," the First Lieutenant called him. "Take some men and clear a space under the fo'c's'le for the women and children – see the purser for some bedding. When you have done that make a space in the forehold for the men. Make sure it is secure."

  ***

  Finding a Master's Mate, Harry told him what was required, and then led his party to the sheltered space beneath the fo'c's'le. Quickly they cleared the area of anything that could be used as a weapon and rigged some screens to enclose the area normally used as a sick berth. He had barely finished when the Royals began to herd the bedraggled women and the children towards it. Harry felt sickened at the looks of fear mingled with hope on their faces and swiftly led his party below to prepare the hold for when the male convicts came aboard. He watched as the ship's armourer secured chains to the great frames in readiness for the arrival of the prisoners and when it was done, reported the work to the First Lieutenant.

  "Well done lad," said Thomas Bell. "Hopefully we will be able to transfer them to the other ships as soon as this storm abates – and the Master thinks the wind is falling even now."

  "Thank you, sir." Harry glanced forward. "Have you further orders for me?" The wind seemed much colder now, though perhaps it was the contrast between the fetid air of the hold and lower decks and the exposed quarterdeck.

  "Not at present. Remain on hand though, I may need you shortly."

  Harry returned to his post at the binnacle and resumed charge of the slate from a Master's Mate just as the Master grunted, "Wind's abating – not swift enough to help us though, and there's a feel of snow in it. This sea will run for days." The Master peered at the racing overhead cloud and added, "We're far enough south for snow, though it is unusual at this season.

  In the time he had been below it seemed that all the women had been removed from the distressed prison transport – though not entirely without loss and injury. The Surgeon and his mates were even now busy among them and several canvas wrapped bundles, some obviously children, lay on the deck. The First Lieutenant remarked to the Master, "It is a miracle that we are witnessing – only five of the children lost and eight among the rest. Our own bill is light as well – one crushed foot and two broken arms. Mister Rogers tells me that in the lower prison hold the water was already at waist level for the men there. But her Master would not countenance their removal from it, though there were several drowned already." He glanced across at the Maid of Selsey and grimaced. "It must require a special hardness to be willing to allow even convicts to drown like rats in such a cage."

  "Aye, Mister Bell." The Master scowled. "I do believe you to be in the right of it there, sir!" He thrust his large hands deep into his coat and added, "And to be so determined on the profit that you ignore rotten timbers. The Carpenter says it is surprising she has held together this far."

  ***

  The wind was somewhat easier, though still strong, when the last boat drew away from the sinking ship. A flurry of snow briefly powdered shoulders of those on deck and the nettings as the quarterboat was hauled up to her davits and the launch returned to her
cradle.

  "Braces there," called the First Lieutenant and the backed topsail once more filled to the wind. It was as if the ship itself wanted to leave the scene of the sinking Maid of Selsey, to put some distance between herself and the misery the other ship represented.

  Spartan gathered way; somewhere ahead the remaining ships of her small convoy had to be found. "Shake out a reef in the topsails and see if she will carry reefed topgallants, Thomas," Captain Blackwood ordered, "We have a stern chase now."

  "Aye, aye, sir," the Lieutenant turned and bellowed, "Hands to make sail, Mister Billing. Reefed t'gallants if you please and set the mizzen topsail – triple reefed."

  As the canvas spread the ship plunged forward, her deck canting steeply on the roll. Harry staggered and steadied himself with a hand on a belaying pin in its rail. He grinned at Ferghal clutching the frame of the hourglass housing. "The ship seems eager to leave this place," he commented.