HMS RESOLVE: A John Phillips Novel

by Richard Testrake

  Observing the enemy corvette through his glass, he saw her starboard gun ports open and the muzzles of her guns run out. Apparently, her captain thought he was going to sail past her starboard beam and exchange broadsides. Of course, with the disparity in number and weight of the guns, this would not have been a bad idea, except for the big frigate coming up astern.

  When he judged his ship within range, he told Mister Land he wanted to make the enemy believe he was going to open fire with his own starboard guns as he went by. He wanted those guns run out as though they were going to fire. Then, on his order, he wanted those crews to run the guns in and rush across the deck to the port side guns. These would be run out and prepared to fire as he was putting Resolve across the enemy’s bow.

  “Mister Lund, I want every idler in the ship on deck to assist the gun crews. The sail tender men of the gun crews will be away from their guns for a bit as we change course. The idlers will be used to help heave those portside guns into position.”

  With Resolve’s starboard battery bristling out her ports, Phillips thought the enemy captain felt he had made the right guess and was now preparing to meet the overwhelming fire of the large British frigate.

  Judging his time, Phillips calmly ordered his crew to run in the guns. All had been informed of the plan, so there was no mass confusion. The sail tenders, men on the gun crews who were designated to leave the guns on order to trim sail, ran to their new stations. Then, he ordered the ship turned to starboard to cross the corvette’s bow. She started her turn sweetly as her gun crews raced across the deck to man the already loaded guns on the port beam. The idlers, men who really were not layabouts, but were actually very busy people at daywork jobs about the ship, were already manning the gun tackles. As the ship crossed the corvette’s path, Phillips ordered, “As your guns bear, FIRE!”

  In ones and twos, those guns began slinging their eighteen pound balls toward the corvette at nearly a thousand feet in a second. Desperate damage was being done to the little corvette as the heavy balls smashed their way from bow to stern of the little ship, destroying equipment, guns and men without discrimination.

  As Resolve sailed past, the corvette’s foremast toppled, then her tricolor came down. Apparently her captain was not exceedingly resolute.

  There was no time to send a boat to take possession. The big frigate was coming right up. Had the ships been farther apart, Phillips might have considered pacifying the Admiralty officials by trying to escape out to sea. The enemy was almost upon him though and it was besides, a faster ship. There was nothing to it but engage the frigate.

  With the corvette immobile in the water and out of the fight, Phillips asked the sailing master to turn to starboard and sail down the enemy’s starboard side, at a distance of a cable’s length or slightly more. He knew his men could be deadly accurate at that range. He was not sure about the enemy.

  With his glass, Phillips saw the enemy had guns on both beams run out. Apparently he wanted to be ready for whatever the British frigate captain had in mind. As the two ships approached, Phillips thought the enemy might edge her way closer. That is what he would have done if he had a powerful ship, but poor gunners.

  The enemy maintained his course, perhaps he felt confident with his gunners, or maybe he might be a bit nervous at approaching that deadly British frigate too closely. At any rate, Captain Phillips gave the same orders to his gunners as he had a few minutes before. “As your guns bear, FIRE!”

  Again, the guns began firing, one and two at a time, when the gun captains were satisfied with their aim. One after another, those eighteen pound balls devastated the starboard beam of the enemy ship. This time, the damage was not as extensive, since the balls could not travel through so much of the ship, but still, frightful damage was being done. Phillips watched as one ball struck the muzzle of an enemy gun full on and the gun literally disappeared. Of course, the weapon had not disintegrated, but smashed backward, probably torn from its tackle, it had likely injured or killed members of its crew. The gun was now perhaps loose on the enemy’s deck and men would need to be withdrawn from other duties to get it under control.

  For a few minutes, Resolute had her way with the enemy. The enemy captain apparently did not believe in independent firing, as not a single weapon fired until both ships were broadside to broadside. Then, every gun on the French frigate’s starboard beam fired. Every gun that was capable, that is. A half dozen did not fire, either because of damage to the gun itself, or perhaps casualty’s among the crews.

  Some of the enemy shots did strike Resolute. A twelve pound ball passed through the mizzen shrouds and clipped the mizzen mast. Phillips knew it had been a twelve pounder by the size of the divot in the mast.

  The men were fully into their gun drill and were not yet tired. Every gun fired at its own speed, so there was a continuous fire upon the enemy. The French frigate fired a few disciplined broadsides before she went to independent fire. By that time however, it was becoming a lost cause.

  Resolute was now firing twice as fast as the enemy and most of her fire was going into the enemy hull. Resolute had edged down toward the enemy ship and eased over on the enemy starboard bow. His gunners were ordered to switch to grape shot and they began to pummel her at close range. The grape, in effect, turned each big gun into a giant shotgun. Phillips watched a sudden swirl among some people on the enemy quarterdeck, as a charge of grape went through, then suddenly, nobody was on his feet there.

  He saw a young man in a blue coat run to a halyard and begin sawing away with a knife. At that time, there was a momentary lull in fighting and Phillips ordered Mister Land to cease fire, but to ensure all guns were ready to open again at any moment.

  The halyard gave way on the French frigate and the tricolor floated aimlessly to the deck. As everyone caught their breath, Mister Land pointed to the corvette, defeated earlier. She had a spar erected as a jury mast, with a lateen rig on it and was now trying to creep away toward the French mainland.

  Captain Basel, commanding the Royal Marine detachment was standing by on the quarterdeck, along with his entire detachment in their red coats. Phillips ordered his officers to ready the ships boats and prepare to ferry the Marines over to the defeated frigate. Basel registered a protest. “Sir, I was ordered most stringently that I was not to leave the strong room unguarded until the special cargo had been unloaded.”

  “Very well, Captain. What if we leave you here on the ship, with say twenty Royal Marines, while the other forty tackle the frigate with your sergeant? I believe Lieutenant Hastings with a party of seamen could hold the prize with their help. In the meantime, I need to go after the corvette before she escapes.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  With the Marines and seamen on their way to the captured frigate, Phillips waited with the ship’s guns threatening the ship. When he was satisfied his people were in control, he ordered Resolute to pursue the corvette. She was creeping along, but with a soldier’s wind right on her beam she had an excellent chance of making it to safety, unless Resolute stopped her.

  While Resolute came up from behind, a party could be seen on the stern of the fleeing corvette moving a gun into position. Phillips could not believe professionals would fire upon their captors after surrendering, but he ordered his crew to man their guns. When that eight pounder fired, it was something of an anticlimax. The ball merely punched a hole in the center of the foresail, with no other damage. Phillips ordered Resolute to turn to starboard, ready to fire a raking broadside. The corvette dropped the flag she had earlier raised and let fly her sheets.

  As she coasted to a halt, the gunports of Resolute’s broadside opened and the guns came out. A figure on the corvette’s quarterdeck tore off his white shirt and began waving it frantically. When Phillips ordered ‘Fire!’ all the guns went off within seconds. Most of them hit and the stern of the corvette was destroyed.

  The frigate waited in position dispassionately, determining if anyone else on the corvette wished to continue
the fight. With no further evidence of violence, a boat was sent to take possession. Mister Scott soon returned and said the corvette wasn’t worth sending home. He doubted she would make it, in the first place and even if she did, he thought a prize court would not allow them anything worthwhile for the ship. “To be honest sir, I wouldn’t pay tuppence for her as she sits.”

  The corvette’s powder magazine was flooded, then the prize was set afire, after her people were taken off.

  The survivors were brought over to Resolute and struck below. The single surviving French officer bewailed Phillip’s firing on a ship that had surrendered. Phillips, in a very bad mood over the loss of the prize money, verbally lashed into the man. “Your ship after lowering her flag, attempted to escape and fired upon us. Your purported surrender meant nothing. We fired back.”

  “But M’sieur, we only put a shot through your sail. You destroyed our ship.”

  “Yes, you put a shot through our sail, after surrendering. We put eighteen of them through your counter. I hope you will not play games with the rules of war in the future.”

  He ordered the man put below with his men. The officer argued that his honor would not permit him to be treated like a common sailor. He demanded the right to walk the Resolve’s quarterdeck with the British officers. He assured Phillips he would submit to capture.

  Without further discussion, Phillips beckoned the Royal Marine sergeant over and told him to take this prisoner below and put him in irons.

  Britain was just over the horizon and Captain Phillips would have liked to turn back with his prizes and have some damage repaired in a shipyard. Wisely, he felt it was probably better to stay as far away as possible from Admiralty until after the specie had been delivered. When they found he had fought two ships while carrying all that gold and silver aboard, there would be hell to pay!

  The two frigates made their way south, past France then the Iberian Peninsula, knotting and splicing as they went. By the time they reached Gibraltar, both ships were in rather good repair.

  The governor asked Phillips to report at the local government building, a structure that had formerly been a convent prior to the British capture of Gibraltar a century before. James Drummond, acting as governor for the Duke of Kent was well aware of the specie aboard Resolve and empathized with Phillips over the destruction of the loss of the corvette. He expressed his agreement of Resolute defending herself against the French warships and commended the officers and men of the frigate for taking two warships, even if one had to be destroyed.

  The acting governor ordered his secretary to draft a letter to Admiralty expressing these views. He told Phillips, “Maybe this will take out the sting of what they may tell you when you go home and report. You had better turn your prize over to our court here. I realize it will be months before she will be adjudicated, but it will happen, sooner or later. In the meantime, your prize crew will be returned to you.”

  Drummond discussed with Captain Phillips the real purpose of the Resolve’s expedition to the Mediterranean.

  Pulling out a chart, he pointed to a tiny island between Sicily and the African mainland.

  “All is not as it has been told, Captain.” he reported. “I know you have orders to deliver your funds to the British Army in Sicily, as their pay. In reality, the total amount we are talking about greatly exceeds the requirements of the Forces. Actually, the Army’s pay is relatively up to date, so far as any of our units may expect in wartime conditions.”

  “This island I am pointing at is the Isle of Lampedusa. As you see, it lies between Sicily and the African mainland. Certain factions in the British government wish it to be made part of the Protectorate of Malta. It is believed it could be used for growing crops and livestock to help feed Malta itself. Peasants with their tools and livestock have been transferred to the island. Money is needed to transform the island into the productive farmland that is needed.”

  “Funds have been juggled around to find the wherewithal. What you or I think of the project is neither here nor there. We will obey our lawful orders and see that it is disbursed correctly.”

  “So, Lambedusa will be the end destination of what the money will purchase. The specie itself, you will take to the Port of Valetta, on Malta, where you will report to the British Civil Commissioner. He will direct you to the officer delegated to receive it. After the funds have been transferred to military custody, you may depart, to return back here. Are there any questions?”

  “Sir, as I understand now, I am to release the funds to the British Army on Malta. My previous orders called for me to take them to Sicily.”

  “Well, you see Captain, matters have changed, what with HM Governmental politics and local civil politics, all combined with military politics. I have the pertinent orders already drawn up. Do you recognize my authority?”

  Phillips read through the confusing document, but eventually felt it covered him in case any questions might be raised later. Finally, he signed the receipt for the papers and bade the Acting Governor goodbye.

  Making his way back to the ship, Phillips came aboard with the usual ceremony. A worried first officer met him. “Sir”, said Lieutenant Land. “I am obliged to report an act of sabotage by one of the men.”

  “Report” ordered the long-suffering Phillips. Land thought a moment and began his statement. “It seems Seaman Barnes became upset when you informed him he had been dis-rated and was now to be a seaman about to be sent to another ship. He made several incendiary devices using powder from musket cartridges and bits of slow match. He placed one in the manger where we keep the lambs and another in the sail locker. The one in the manger, he buried in the animal’s hay. The other he placed under some sailcloth.”

  “The device in the manger was discovered when the fodder burst into flame. An alert seaman saw it and dowsed the fire with water from a fire bucket. During the commotion, a party of midshipmen, including your son, found the one in the sail locker. The ember on the slow-match was just inches away from the small powder charge, but the smoldering slow match had already ignited the sailcloth. The smell of burning canvas alerted the lads. Again, a bucket of seawater put out the fire.”

  “Very well, what did you do with Barnes?”

  “I had the carpenter install some ring bolts in the mess deck. He is chained to those ring-bolts by his hands and feet. I thought he would be under closer scrutiny there and would not be able to get into mischief.”

  “What kind of condition is he in?”

  “He is in perfect condition, sir. The hands hardly got in a blow before the Master at Arms got him in restraints.”

  “Well, let us go see the man!”

  The procession paraded below decks to the berthing area for the seamen. It was a constricted space where men were not able to stand upright. It was mostly empty now, since the men’s hammocks had been stowed on deck in the hammock nettings. In the center of the compartment, a man was spread out, his hands and feet attached by chains to ring bolts fastened to the deck.

  The man was no longer in ‘perfect’ shape. It appeared someone had stepped on his face, probably several times. An elderly seaman, ruptured and beyond any heavy type of work puttered about in the compartment.

  Phillips, wise in the ways of the lower deck, offered, “Wainwright, I know you did not see anyone injure the prisoner, but it cannot happen again. He must stand his court martial and it would be better if he is unmarked.”

  “Sir, the old man said, “He tried to burn us all up.”

  “I know, Wainwright. This will not be a case of two dozen lashes at the grating. I am sure he will be making the high jump.”

  There was a moan from the prisoner. “Captain, I didn’t do anything to get hung over. I just set a couple of little fires. No harm in it.”

  “Well Barnes, you can tell yourself that as they haul you up to the mainyard. You know, I was going to find a captain that needed a seaman and trade you for one of his mids. I just came back from the Convent and don’t you know,
I forgot all about it. Well, I doubt that anyone would want to take you aboard a ship now.”

  Phillips had to go ashore again to acquaint the Acting Governor of the new developments. The governor was upset. “We can’t keep you here forever, Phillips. Can’t you just hold a summary court aboard your ship and then hang him?”

  “Can’t do that, Governor. We need five captains to sit on a court and there aren’t that many ships here right now.”

  “Well, perhaps we should let the Army do the job for you? Your officers can all give sworn statements and we’ll let the Army try him. He did try to burn the King’s property and that should put it in the proper bailiwick.”

  As it turned out, the Army decided to shoot the man rather than hang him. They tied Barnes to a post, then a dozen redcoats fired their muskets at him. They buried him in a shallow grave right on the parade field itself, there being little space to spare for a dead arsonist. Within hours, troops were parading over the grave site, stamping the earth flat.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Resolve continued into the Med. The stale beer taken aboard back in Portsmouth was now gone and a harsh red wine had been substituted. There were plenty of complaints of the taste, but most agreed the wine had enough authority. Of course, the real desire of the men was to finish the wine so they could be issued their rum.

  On their way across the Med, the lookouts saw plenty of opportunities for plunder, as vessel after vessel belonging to most of the states of Europe were seen. A large percentage of these craft belonged to nations allied with Bonaparte and thus fair game.

  Phillips had to call ‘all hands’ to explain why they could not just rampage among the targets, taking what they wished. Most of the men could not understand why a ship might be subject to capture on one day and denied them the next. Their captain empathized with them and assured his crew they would run riot among Boney’s shipping, just as soon as the Royal Navy let them off the leash.