The dragoon’s commander decided to try his own plan. On order, the horsemen, in two ranks, began a slow advance down the roadway toward the lines of the defenders. Captain Hornsby, standing calmly with his men, ordered them to stand ready. When the dragoons broke into a trot, the Marine nodded to Captain Mullins. By prearrangement, the British seamen manning the guns on the defenders’ flanks readied their guns, then a single, British-manned, French eight-pounder on the left flank fired its load of grapeshot. Horses and men fell, the terribly injured mounts screaming.
The dragoon commander had ordered this attack to see if he could induce the Marines to volley their weapons at long range, where serious casualties were not likely. At any distance over fifty yards, little loss could be expected, especially from a force this small. If the plan was successful, the dragoons could then ride down the defenders with their discharged muskets. The dragoon commander was prepared to abort the attack at long musket range if the defenders did not fire. In the event though, the Marines did not fire, although the gun did horrible damage to the dragoons.
Captain Hornsby was no amateur. The Marines were his main line of defense, and these men had previously been warned not to fire except on order. The guns were another matter. When the first gun on the left fired, another on the right flank was readied. Momentarily, there was confusion as men and horses attempted to clear the dead and injured men and horses on the ground. At the right moment, the second gun fired, contributing its message of death and confusion to the attackers.
The dragoon’s commander was one of the casualties from this discharge and fell without issuing his order to retire. The order was not necessary. Those horsemen still mounted, wheeled around and made their way back down the road at a gallop.
The foul weather of the morning had left and now the sun was out. More enemy troops appeared from the direction of the nearby village, but these appeared to be insufficient to bother the rescue party at this time. Still, with the large number of wounded on their hands, both British and French, it would seem to be a good plan to get the landing party and their charges back to the ship as soon as possible.
There had been no sign of a return messenger from the landing site, and the uncertainty was becoming troublesome. Finally, a mounted horseman was seen leaving the gaggle of French troops that had newly come on the scene. Coming at a slow walk, he was preceded by a foot soldier beating on a drum.
Lieutenant Parker went forward to meet the approaching officer. After a few minutes of conversation, the pair began approaching the British defensive line. Mullins and Captain Hornsby both went forward and met with the Frenchman.
After some preliminary discussion, it was decided that unarmed French troops could come forward and retrieve their dead and wounded. It was also decided that all French prisoners could be freed on parole when the British forces left.
Captain Mullins had a moment of unease when the French officer asked pointedly when the British might expect to leave. He was spared having to answer when one of his seamen reported a party coming down the path from the landing site. Pointing toward the new arrivals, he assured the enemy spokesman that he could tell him more in just a few minutes.
Mister Weatherby, Vigilant’s sailing master, was in charge of this party. Thirty seamen and a few more Marines carried litters to transport the injured and the master reported another party was being assembled. Another hundred men could be expected very soon, bringing additional arms, and medical supplies.
Leaving Hornsby and Parker behind to continue the talks with the Frenchman, Mullins went back to the fortification to investigate how matters were coming along.
By this time all of the injured had been given what treatment was available. Mullins was brought up-to-date with the issue of the freed prisoners.
Chapter Seventeen
It had previously been reported to Captain Mullins there would be little more than a dozen survivors of the brig-sloop Mohawk in this camp. This was true enough, but the French had acquired other British prisoners and placed them here until it would be possible to march them overland to a more secure facility.
At present, there were about thirty British prisoners, some of them from commercial prizes taken by both French national ships and privateers. Most of these were healthy enough to walk to the landing site, but a few had been badly wounded in the fighting or were ill from the poor conditions in which they lived. These would require assistance in making the trip to the sea.
A search of the premises revealed a battered, two-wheeled cart probably used to carry firewood for the facility’s cook. A small donkey had been used to transport this cargo, but there had been horses picketed in the rear of the facility when the rescue force arrived. Two had been ridden away by messengers early on in the conflict, and another had been injured in the fighting. Another pair of the big cavalry geldings were still there. No harness was available for the animals, but the seamen soon knotted together line and produced an adequate substitute.
The horses did not quite agree to the necessity for them to pull a donkey’s cart, but a leather-lunged bosun’s mate who had grown up on a farm soon convinced the animals otherwise. The bed of the tiny cart was enlarged with boards torn from the shelters, and the injured men carefully laid on.
With the assistance of Mister Weatherby’s party, there was plenty of people handy for the evacuation and now the additional reinforcements were seen marching down the track. One hundred men, carrying extra weapons and supplies, including litters to carry men who could not be accommodated on the cart.
Mullins went back to the site of the negotiations. The French officer had sent his drummer back to the main party and returned with a basket of wines and some ill-smelling cheese. He and the interpreter were having quite an animated conversation, describing the various idiocies each had experienced in his own service. Mullin’s frown brought Lieutenant Parker to his sense of duty and the French officer was advised of the imminent departure of the British forces with their recovered prisoners. By now, all of the wounded French soldiers had been returned to their own side, but there was still the question of the healthy French prisoners captured during the taking of the prison camp.
The officer was reminded of the necessity for these men to give their parole before being freed. This would mean they would not be allowed to take part in French military attempts on British targets until properly exchanged. Of course, most would argue ordinary soldiers could not be expected to honor such arrangements and would doubtless be placed back into the ranks as soon as they were returned to their own side.
The enemy negotiator decided to argue this point, demanding the men bring their weapons with them. Mullins considered. He was in no position to guard these men on a march across rough terrain to the landing site, and he doubted there would be space to evacuate them anyway. At the same time, he well knew there was little chance for the French military to honor a parole by these other ranks.
Surprising the French officer, he agreed to the terms. Asking for a moment, he left to return to the turmoil where his officers and petty officers were organizing the evacuation. Finding an armorer’s mate from Vigilant, he asked if the French arms could be made inoperable within a short time. When he went back to the negotiations a few minutes later, a party of men were smashing locks from captured French muskets on the breach of one of the cannon. When this task was finished, the muzzles of the muskets would be flattened, then hardened steel spikes would be driven into the vents of the big guns themselves.
When the time came for the soldats to be returned to their own army, the pile of smashed weapons was indicated to the French officer and Mullins reported, “Here are the arms we mentioned Monsieur. I regret that some have been injured in the fighting, but you have them back, as per the agreement.”
The procession started down the path, with Marines at front and rear and armed seamen on the flanks. The horses pulled the cart of wounded halfway down the column. The returned French prisoners were sent back to their headquarters
with their ruined weapons, while the few remaining French troops followed the column back to the landing site.
The weather had moderated by this time and the inlet was filled with boats of the fleet waiting for arrival of the landing force.
Long before French forces could be brought up, the British landing force had returned to the sea. Most of the recovered prisoners had been consigned to the captured sugar transport for return to Britain. HMS Vigilant then returned to her blockade duties.
The next few months were spent continuing their watch over the Brittany coast. One blustery afternoon, as the ship broke through a squall line, her lookout spotted a covey of small coasters in close to land. At the moment, they were occupied with rounding a rocky headland and perhaps were not quite as observant as they might have been. Their escort appeared to be an armed schooner, probably a privateer. With her dozen small guns, she was of no danger to Vigilant.
With a bone in her teeth, the frigate charged toward this helpless prey. Mister Weatherby stood by his captain, offering his advice on the bottom conditions in these waters. There were shoals aplenty here, with plenty of rocks waiting to puncture their hull. Perhaps that was why the targeted convoy was so oblivious to their approach.
When they were sighted, now very close, the escort fired a gun to warn the others, but there was little else she could do. The little schooner did try to draw off the frigate, but Mullins would not fall for that trick. He was well aware the escort could sail much closer to the wind than Vigilant.
He would have to let this escort go, but the heavily laden coasters were at his mercy. As the schooner blithely sailed out of danger, the frigate went after the convoy, which reacted rather as a flock of chickens attacked by a fox. Vigilant came up on a brig’s quarter, her guns bristling. The master of that brig had no desire to be a hero. Being a mere employee hired to deliver a cargo, he had little stake in the safe delivery of his cargo and ordered his crew to let fly the sheets when it became evident there would be no escape.
The prize crew tumbled down into the launch trailing alongside, then Vigilant went on to the next. She was able to take two more before the rest found refuge below gun batteries on the mainland coast. Taking her new charges back out to sea, it was time to inspect the booty.
The hull of the brig, while worth little in itself, contained a full cargo of brandy, packed in tight. The pair of luggers were worth less. One had a cargo of shoes while the other had a load of salt fish. Had he been farther from port, he might well have burned the last two craft, but since Falmouth was just off to starboard, he thought he would give a few of his midshipmen some training in handling a vessel.
He would have liked to send Broadhurst to command one of the luggers, but the boy was just too young. He did have those half-dozen mids sent aboard before their last sailing. Unusually, all of these lads had one or more prior cruises under their belts and all showed a little aptitude. The eldest was a young gentleman named Flowers with six years at sea behind him. His father was a Member of Parliament, while an uncle was a vice-admiral. Probably not a lad to be trifled with. He asked Mister Heyward to put Flowers in command of the brig with a useful crew. Heyward should select two other of the new mids to take in the luggers.
There would be no difficulty in getting the prizes into port. The weather was moderate and Vigilant escorted the pair of luggers right up to their mooring. Mister Flowers had seized the opportunity to free himself of his apron strings and had set out by himself for port separately. After firing the salute, Vigilant made her number and soon Mullins was ordered to repair aboard a hulked third rate. While being interviewed by the port captain, he was complemented on the seizure of the cargo of brandy aboard
He was informed because of the increased activity against smugglers, the price of good brandy here had become outrageous. As soon as this capture was adjudicated and sold at auction, it was expected prices would drop to a more moderate level.
When queried by Captain Harold about the state of his ship, Mullins relayed the report of his carpenter that the repaired section of the hull up forward was beginning to weep, and a survey might become necessary. Accordingly, Mullins was directed to remain in port until the dockyard was free to conduct its inspection.
With the ship moored in the inner harbor, there was little opportunity for the crew to conduct any useful training and soon the various officers and warrants were asking for leave. Mullins released as many of these people as he could, without jeopardizing the ship’s work that continued every day. It was impossible to give liberty to many of the hands. With most of them aboard involuntarily, a large percentage, if allowed ashore, would disappear in a flash.
A measure of relief could be furnished by allowing women to come on board. Theoretically, these women were wives visiting husbands, but actually most of them were local women of the waterfront, earning their living the only way they could. The hands would be put ‘Out of Discipline’ for the time allotted for these ‘conjugal’ visits. The sights to be seen on the berth deck were not for young eyes, so some careful captains took what measures they could to remove their ‘young gentlemen’ from the ship for this period.
The widow of an admiral, with full knowledge of the activities on a ship ‘out of discipline’, provided one recourse. She would regularly take into her large home numbers of young midshipmen for short periods. Arrangements with local pastors and women’s groups would provide access to parties and other entertainments for these young men. One subject it was necessary for Captain Mullins to discuss with his young men was the presence of girls and young women at these events.
He was very vocal describing the consequences of any of his mids should they be indiscreet with these young ladies. Of course, he knew the individual midshipman would remember little of his warnings once secluded in some corner with a naïve girl, but he reminded the lads chaperones would be present, some of them wives of senior naval officers. If any mid wished to be dis-rated and put to work cleaning the heads of some admiral’s first rate every day, this would be an excellent way to proceed.
With much misgiving he sent his mids ashore and released those officers that he could to their families, staying himself aboard to manage as much of the riotous behavior that he could. Despite what was occurring aboard the ship, repairs to her hull were finished, and a week later, the ‘Out of Discipline’ flag was lowered. It was necessary for the Marines to come aboard and break a few heads before calm was restored. It was then that Mrs. Ralston, the widow that had been watching over his mids came aboard in the launch, accompanied with her charges. Mullins had been one of her ‘guests’ himself, when he was a young lad and her husband was still alive. He remembered her well, but she showed no sign of recalling their previous acquaintance.
To preserve proprieties, he invited Lieutenant Heyward and his wife to his cabin for a light repast with Mrs. Ralston, where he was to find out what horrors his young men had committed.
Mrs. Ralston was quite complementary of the mid’s behavior and assured him all had been perfect gentlemen in her own presence. She was concerned about something that had happened on an occasion when she was not present. One of her friends had opened her own home to these youngsters for a dance. It was a large home and her pastor and some of the church ladies had organized the event. Mrs. Ralston had taken the opportunity to attend to some personal business, entrusting her charges to the hostess. When she returned some hours later to collect the young gentlemen, there was some consternation. Mister Flowers was missing, as was Miss Drummond, a young woman of tender years.
Eventually the pair returned, somewhat disheveled. Both swore nothing had happened, but of course there would always be some doubt. Mrs. Ralston thought it advisable that Mister Flowers not return to her home again. The girl’s father was an unemployed lieutenant who would have little opportunity to express his displeasure. Mullins requested Mrs. Ralston deliver his own apologies to the lieutenant and inform him he would be expressing his own displeasure to the midshipman.
> Flowers spent a very uncomfortable half an hour listening to Mullins express that displeasure. With the very few words Flowers had to say, he muttered that he had done the girl no harm, before learning it would be a cold day in Hell before Flowers went ashore again.
The matter soon became almost forgotten as the ship came back together. Rumors of another voyage to the Mediterranean were discussed, along with a proposed voyage to the Baltic. Mullins took neither to heart, expecting the ship would likely be sent back to the Brest blockade. Shortly, the Baltic voyage became more likely, but then it was found Vigilant would not be the ship going. Instead, a trim little former French corvette, now an eighteen-gun British sloop of war would be going and her commander would be Vigilant’s first lieutenant, Mister Heyward. The command had originally been offered to a young commander with ‘Interest’, but his people wanted him to be posted, so he was given an old post-ship, about due for the breaker’s yard. Mullins suspected the newly minted post captain would make a brief cruise in the post ship before given command of a small frigate.
Heyward was given his step and found himself a commander, something he had not expected this life. He would take the newly available sloop-of-war to the Baltic.
Chapter Eighteen
Mullins life was now becoming hectic. First, it was becoming more certain Vigilant would soon be departing on a voyage to the eastern Med. A diplomat was to be carried to Egypt to enter into discussions with the current ruler there. So far, there was no sign of a new lieutenant to replace Mister Heyward. There was no senior midshipman aboard Vigilant that Mullins would trust as acting lieutenant. Heyward had already taken command of his ship, but sometimes came over in his gig and assisted Captain Mullins with the extra work now necessary on the frigate. It was going to be a priority to find a lieutenant to fill out his wardroom before sailing.
HMS Vigilant: A Charles Mullins Novel (Sea Command Book 5) Page 12
