HMS RESOLVE: A John Phillips Novel

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HMS RESOLVE: A John Phillips Novel Page 8

by Richard Testrake


  It was to be the Leeward Islands of the Caribbean this time. While there was still a fleet based in Antigua, it had thinned out considerably with the depletion of French naval forces in that area. Now, inhabitants of the French islands were arming such vessels as they could get their hands on, getting Letters of Marque and Reprisal from a local government official and becoming privateering entrepreneurs. Often these vessels became mere pirates, attacking any vessel afloat that might show them a profit, no matter what flag was shown.

  Phillips task was to concentrate on clearing the waters of this vermin, at the same time, giving any French national ship its proper attention.

  Phillips spent the next day posting down to Portsmouth, where he found Mister Scott, his first officer, tearing his hair out. The crew, when Resolve was emptied out, had been taken to a receiving ship, where theoretically they would be returned to their parent ship after the necessary work was finished. However, many of the able-bodied seamen had been drafted to other ships and the people sent to Resolve after her repairs were complete, were the dregs of the press, as well as prisoners sent from jails to meet a county’s quota.

  By spending large sums paying off impress officers, Phillips was able to secure almost enough able seamen to get the ship to sea. But, what about gunners and other specialized trades aboard ship?

  The port admiral told him he must just grow his own. Admiral Tyler assured him he would find plenty of time on the long voyage to the Caribbean to train his men the way he wanted.

  He had some new officers. Mister Scott was still his first officer and one day the old third officer returned from his wanderings. Mister Hastings was ready and willing to come back to HMS Resolve.

  Both Hollingsworth and Goodyer had departed. Hollingsworth‘s mother had secured him a position as flag lieutenant for an admiral. Goodyer was appointed as fifth lieutenant aboard a second rate ship of the line. An earnest young man joined them, fresh from passing his board examination as lieutenant. Lieutenant Whiting was still clad in his best midshipman’s uniform when he came aboard.

  After some discrete questioning, Phillips learned Whiting did have the funds to purchase the required kit he would need as a commission officer, but had not wished to delay a moment the moment of triumph of actually succeeding.

  Pointing out the building housing his own naval outfitter, he sent the young officer ashore in the launch to obtain the proper gear. There was a very real danger of the boat crew deserting en masse, so he sent a corporal and a file of Marines in the boat to make sure it came back.

  The water hoys came out to the ship and pumped the needed water aboard though hoses running down into the tiers. With the water tuns filled, it was time to load the ammunition for the ship’s eighteen pounder guns. Despairing the crew’s inability to sail across the harbor, he instead kedged his way. Using the launches to ferry the kedge anchors ahead of the ship, the crew was put to the capstan and hauled the ship over to a remote part of the port by brute force.

  “At least”, Phillips thought, “his men would know how to heave at the capstan bars.”

  While bringing the powder aboard from the powder hoys, all flame of any kind was extinguished. In addition, decks were swabbed with seawater, to insure any powder leaking there would be de-activated on the wet deck. Full fire buckets were deployed all over the ship and instructions given to mop up any spillage with a wet swab.

  With all stores now aboard ship, HMS Resolve swung around her anchor waiting for her sailing orders. Finally, an immaculate lieutenant in a pristine boat delivered them. He was to join a convoy to Antigua serving as part of her escort. HMS Blake, a 74 gun third rate under Sir William Johnson, would be escort commander. Brig-sloop Pelorus would also accompany the convoy. With her 16 thirty two pounder carronades and 2 long sixes, she would be a dangerous opponent to much larger warships.

  The warships would be guarding a pair of troop-loaded transports as well a half a dozen merchant craft with miscellaneous cargo. Before departure, the captains and first officers of the escorts were called over to HMS Blake to get their commander’s views on their duties.-

  “Gentlemen”, began Sir William, “I have already addressed the masters and first mates of the convoy and listened to their concerns. I have given them my own and here is what we have come up with.”

  “First, we here all know, once the convoy begins to straggle and predators appear on the scene, we will lose ships. I have told the masters how important it will be for their ships to remain in formation so we may protect them.”

  “The masters tell me they have few crewmen on board, because of the parsimony of their owners and because of the Royal Navy’s pressing of so many of their hands. Because of this lack of men, they may have difficulty with making or reducing sail, or even answering signals.”

  “I have informed them we will give each ship the benefit of the doubt, but if non-compliance to signals become too overt, that ship will be asked to leave the convoy and proceed independently. Their insurance carrier will be notified and the owner will be forced to pay increased premiums or go without insurance altogether.”

  “HMS Blake will be to windward toward the rear of the convoy. Pelorus, will station herself to leeward, off the lee beam of the convoy. I wish Resolve to take the lead. All escorts will keep a close watch on all other ships. Make certain your signal people keep on their toes looking for signals from any ship in the convoy. At night, we will signal with pyrotechnics. You should all have copies of the anticipated signals.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The ships of the convoy, given a favorable wind and tide worked its way from the harbor and out to the Channel. The first day was spent with individual crews getting used to their individual ship’s little intricacies.

  Scott, as first officer, had his hands full training up the many new crewmen in their sail drill, so he deputed Mister Hastings, the second to handle gunnery and teach the men their duties. Mister Whiting was to handle signals and was told to find a conscientious and intelligent midshipman to second him in his duties.

  Phillips had informed Sir William before leaving port that he had many new crewmen and would be daily exercising them in both sail and gun drill. The escort commander was dubious when he was told live fire would be employed. He was mollified somewhat when he learned the frigate’s captain had purchased the necessary powder and shot with his own funds.

  “Well”, Sir William offered. “You will be up ahead with nobody on your flanks to be struck by your fire. I do think it strange you should go to this expense. On my part, I just come up alongside the enemy and just go at them. But, to each his own.”

  Every day that was suitable, the crews of the convoy was entertained by Resolve’s thundering broadsides at any piece of trash floating in the water. If there were no suitable targets, the longboat would often sail ahead, dropping offerings into the water.

  Initially, the frigate would sail alongside the targets, hammering them with grape, rewarding the better shots with extra tots of grog. As the gunners improved, the targets were passed at greater distances. One afternoon, with not a sail in sight outside the convoy, Sir William ordered Pelorus to take his own spot in the rear and came sailing up to see what all this thundering was all about.

  The longboat had just dropped one of the empty little powder kegs in the water. Resolve passed it at such a range the keg was nearly invisible. A weight had been placed in the keg for ballast and a wood stick with a scrap of sailcloth nailed to it to improve visibility.

  When he had signaled the longboat to drop that particular target, he had not realized HMS Blake was coming up to watch the display. When Hastings coughed and pointed to the third rate, it was too late. They could never maneuver close enough to the target now to make a sure hit likely.

  Knowing he would face ridicule from his superior should his gun crews fail to get close to the target, he nevertheless ordered the starboard guns to make ready. There were 18 guns on a side. He had the guns arranged in sections, six secti
ons, three guns to a section, each section commanded by a midshipman. When each section’s gun captains were ready, each gun captain would raise his arm. Depending on the orders for the action, either the midshipman, the gunnery officer, or the captain would give the order to fire.

  Phillips was allowing the mid to perform this task today. The ship was gradually coming up on the tiny white speck off to starboard. He well knew there was absolutely no chance a shot could come close to that little dot. One gun captain raised his arm, then another. After some hesitation, the third did the same. The mid gave the order to fire. The guns did not fire immediately. All three gunners waited for the ship to rise on a wave, then all tugged their lanyards at the same time. The cloud of smoke blotted out the target, but it soon blew away. All the officers on the quarterdeck had their glasses on the target. Through his, Phillips saw a tiny plume of water sprout just a few fathoms short of the keg. An instant later, a second rose alongside and the third smashed the keg, leaving no trace of its existence visible. Hastings immediately issued the ‘Cease Fire’ order. It would be embarrassing if the next gun crew should fire at an empty sea with shots splashing erratically all over the Atlantic.

  A minute later, a flag hoist arose on Blake and Lieutenant Whiting, the signals officer read it out. “Enemy destroyed”, then another signal was hauled to the peak, “Captain ‘our number’ to repair aboard flag.”

  While the gig was being lowered, its crew assembled where Mister Scott gave them a hurried inspection. The captain’s steward rushed up from below with Phillip’s best coat and hat, as well as the rather glorious looking sword he had recently purchased for occasions such as this.

  The big two decker was angling over their way to save the boat crew a long pull and soon his bowman hooked onto the starboard mainchains. After the ceremonial, Sir William led him aft to the windward rail of the quarterdeck and extended his best congratulations.

  “I was most impressed by your demonstration, Captain Phillips. If I can find a supply of gunpowder and shot available in the Leeward Islands, I will copy your methods and attempt to drill my gunners into your style of proficiency.”

  Embarrassed, Phillips was forced to demur. “Sir William, that shooting was luck, as much as anything else. We had to burn a lot of powder in practice to break that little keg.”

  Two more days into the voyage, Blake’s lookout spotted two sail in the distance which was reported by flag signal to the convoy.

  The merchants began clustering closer, when the two vessels spotted raised the tricolor. One was a brig, about the size of their own Pelorus, while the second one appeared to be a North American built sloop, a rather large one under French colors. The schooner appeared much more nimble than the brig and it began darting around the convoy, making passes to test the quality of the escorts. After dancing around all day, with no success, the schooner sailed off, while the brig kept formation with the convoy as if she was another escort. With the schooner gone over the horizon, Sir William ordered Pelorus to try to catch the brig.

  Night was approaching and Pelorus had not returned. Hours passed and Phillips knew Sir William must be worried. Just after the seventh bell in the middle watch had sounded, Phillips was wakened by a gunshot. He rushed to the quarterdeck where he found the deck officer, Mister Whiting waiting for the watch below to boil out of the hatches.

  “What seems to be the trouble, Mister Whiting?”

  “Sir, the transport ‘Betty Jane’ who was behind us to starboard, fired a gun off to her port. I think one of those privateers has returned.” As he spoke, there was the crackle of musketry from the transport. Apparently, some of the transports troops had loaded their muskets and were firing at an adversary.

  A second later, a red signal rocket wavered erratically into the night sky. This was the signal for an enemy attack. Although Phillips thought there was a strong probability of a mistake, he reduced sail to allow the convoy to catch up with him. Perhaps a ship in the port column had drifted out of position and confused the deck officer of the Betty Jane.

  Then, a broadside blasted, fired from a vessel close by the transport. In the light of gun flashes, Phillips recognized the schooner that had fled over the horizon the day before. Ordering the night signal for “Enemy in sight’, he edged his frigate closer to the scene. Asking Hastings what his guns were loaded with, he was told the forward three on each beam were loaded with grape, the remainder with solid shot.

  The crew were clearing the ship for action at a frantic pace. It was necessary to knock down all the partitions about the lower decks. A shot striking such material could generate deadly splinters which could kill or wound as many men as the projectiles themselves.

  The transport behind was approaching the slowing frigate along with her adversary. The after guns would be firing first this time. Phillips instructed Hastings to inform the section commanders to have the guns to fire low into the hull of the schooner. She would be lightly built and the balls would likely pass straight through her and smash into the transport beside. The captain expected most of the passengers and crew of the transport would be on deck to repel a boarding action, so hopefully there would be fewer casualties. Anyway, the transport was an ancient Navy frigate sold out of the service. She may now be old and decrepit, but she had been built to withstand gun fire and she still could, no matter her age.

  The sloop was firing a few guns steadily now into the transport, while troops on the Emily Jane were now sending slashing volleys into the schooner from their Brown Bess muskets. It seemed nobody had observed Resolve as she was being overtaken by the convoy.

  Finally, the two after starboard guns fired, awakening everyone to the realities. The sloop fired a few guns toward the frigate. Only one came aboard, which struck the mainmast and stuck there like a raisin in a plum pudding. More of the frigate’s guns were firing now and the lightly built schooner was coming apart. It had been built cheaply to carry cargo, not to face broadsides from ships of war.

  The sloop was in a horrible position. She was up against the transport on one side, while the frigate was crowding her on the other. At the same time, the soldiers on the transport were sending sheets of heavy musket balls at them, while the frigate was breaking the sloop apart with the heavy iron balls she was firing.

  In the end, with no possible escape and her main having fallen onto the transport, she gave up. The big guns stopped firing right away, but it took some time to convince the troops to stop. Their blood was up and they had lost comrades.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The convoy ended its voyage in English Harbor near the end of the hurricane season. Captain Phillips was called to Government House where he met Governor Elliot as well as Sir Alexander Cochrane, Vice-Admiral of the Leeward Islands station.

  The governor, pleading urgent business elsewhere soon took his departure. The admiral was soon to return back home, but was careful to give Phillips a briefing on the naval realities in the Caribbean. Cochrane advised him the area needed a strong presence to handle the growing threat of privateers from the French islands.

  “Captain Phillips, the forces we have here are not a third the size we need to keep the privateers in check. I use the word privateers, but others may more accurately describe them as pirates. They typically rove in small craft disguised as island traders, but will have a mob of men on board, with a few guns.”

  “I am told any owner of such a craft may get a Letter of Marque from a local French government official for a pittance, but some of the more brazen do not even bother with that. A problem you will have dealing with these vermin, is their usual shallow draft. They can get into nooks and crannies where your frigate can not go. I wish I could give you some smaller craft to assist you, but I just cannot.”

  “There is just not the funding to purchase such vessels. Should you manage to capture something useful, you may consider using it as an auxiliary.

  “Now then, another item that will concern you. A few years ago, When the French Admiral Villeneuve vis
ited these parts with his fleet, he managed to capture members of a British convoy. One of his frigates attempted to take the prizes into Guadeloupe, but was intercepted by British ships. The prize ships were burned, but Siréne made it into port and was left behind and the war began to pass her by. We think the crew began to drift away, mostly into the numerous privateers. Reports we received from agents advised Siréne had begun to deteriorate.

  “Then, we heard a small convoy from France had made port there. Apparently the convoy carried necessary supplies for the frigate’s repair. An energetic captain assumed command and repairs began to be made. Now, we find the frigate is making short shakedown cruises.”

  “What will develop with this frigate, we do not know. There is the possibility she may combine forces with some of the privateers and be able to cause our convoys to and from home serious difficulty. She is a forty gun ship, armed with twelve and eight pounder guns.”

  “You should be able to take her on if you encounter her and that will be specified in your orders. It is of importance Siréne does not become a nucleus around which privateers and small French National warships may congregate to cause trouble for us.”

  HMS Resolve swung around her anchor in English Harbor waiting for necessary stores. They were far enough from shore to discourage any seamen from deserting, except for Ned Harding, loblolly boy. Harding was no kind of boy, being about fifty years of age. He had become too decrepit to work aloft any longer, so the surgeon had taken him on.

  His job had been to assist the surgeon with surgeries and whatever minor tasks he might have. It was commonly regarded as one of the softest jobs on the ship.

  There were always a number of bumboats around, selling almost anything portable enough to carry in a small boat which a seaman might be induced to buy. Somehow, Harding had arranged for a bumboat to approach the ship near the bow. Harding, repairing to the ships heads for a ‘constitutional’ hastily donned a facsimile of a woman’s dress he had sewn himself and slipped over the side. He had actually made it into the bumboat when the master’s mate of the watch noticed something unusual.

 

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