“That will all change, Mister Stuart. As soon as we put out to sea, we will begin to properly train the men. How are we supplied with powder and shot?”
“Not too well, sir. I am afraid Captain Decker sometimes would sell off some of our good equipment and replace that with lower quality kit. There is talk that his travel to London is somehow related.”
Mullins said indignantly, “You mean, he sold the good powder and replaced it with inferior?”
“Stuart said diffidently, “I would not want to speak ill of my betters, sir. Although, I doubt if a single cask of our replacement powder would pass proof.”
The procedure known as ‘Proofing’ was performed on powder issued to British warships. This test determined whether the powder met the specifications for issue to a King’s ship. Mullins knew the ship and the men on her might soon have to trust in the efficacy of the ship’s powder.
“Mister Stuart, I want you to make a proper report to the Master of the Powder Wharf, expressing your doubts of the ship’s powder. If you have any suspicions concerning any other of the ship’s equipment, I will want to hear of them. When we sail, we will be standing into danger, and all the ship’s equipment and men must be ready. I will be addressing the other members of Achille’s staff shortly and I will insist upon the ship being ready for combat as soon as we leave port.”
The next week was a perfect beehive of activity as the ship was examined minutely from stem to stern. There was a firestorm over the gunpowder issue. At some time in the past, the present powder had been stored in improper conditions. It was soon determined that excessive moisture had leached saltpeter from the present powder and left the material deficient in explosive power. Some samples could hardly be made to fire.
Apparently, Captain Decker had found another captain who would purchase his good powder stored in the ship’s magazine. To replace it, he purchased this deteriorted powder from a private dealer. Mullins thought the previous captain felt the matter would never come to light, since the guns were rarely fired.
It was in a meeting aboard the flag that Mullins learned the former captain of Achilles was at this moment standing before a court martial in London. It was understood these present deficiencies would be made known to the court.
Because of the delay, Mullins allowed Brooks to remain ashore with his mother for several more days. At last though, the powder issue was addressed and then three lieutenants came aboard. Mullins, at that time, also called Brooks to him and asked if he was ready to leave.
Brooks said he would be very glad to leave. His mother had purchased a suit for him that would have been more in place on an emir’s harem guard. All silk and imitation gems, he was embarrassed to wear the garb. Mary wished him to serve as the footman on her carriage and wear this garment while on her shopping expeditions. She thought her ornate footman impressed the neighbors, usually forgetting to mention the footman was her Black son.
Brooks had unpleasant memories of his own servitude, and did not find it amusing to find himself being portrayed as a Moorish slave.
Mister Johnson, the new first officer, was an efficient appearing man of middle years and height. The others were younger men, but seemed eager to please. As soon as all had greeted their captain, they donned their working clothing and began to get their hands dirty.
The new first officer, was obviously a man of much practical experience. As was normal, there were a few brave or stupid hands who would try a new officer on for size, by asking foolish or unusual questions. When a hand approached him and wondered when the men would be issued the extra ration of grog that was their wont when working late, the new officer did not bother to answer. Calling over a nearby bosun’s mate, he stated, “I notice the heads are foul and need to be cleaned. Here is just the man to do the job!”
Mister Harrison, the second officer, was not a man of long service, but seemed to have some experience. Mister Lassiter, the third, had only just passed for lieutenant, and did not need to shave every day just yet.
Taking the good with the bad, Mullins had already determined his ship and crew were acceptable as they were and could doubtless become superior with a little training. He was quite satisfied with his new officers. Now that the last of the captain’s and wardroom stores had come aboard, it was time to be about their work.
Chapter Twenty-Two
HMS Achilles went out on the morning tide, without making herself a laughing stock. Once out of sight of land, in an effort to avoid amusing the locals, Captain Mullins began putting the ship and crew through sail drill. Here, he found his people mostly knew enough about the art to minimize the chances of fatal error. From now on, he would tend to instructing the crew about how things were done in the Royal Navy, rather than the fishing smack on which they may have learned their skills.
Before the afternoon grog issue, the men would get a solid hour on the guns. Here, more training would be required. Much of the crew had been with the ship under the command of their more recent captain. Unfortunately, Captain Decker had not been a believer in the practice of frequently exercising the great guns. Thus, many of the hands were unfamiliar with the ship’s armament, some had never seen a gun fired before.
This afternoon, all hands had a chance to roll a gun out of a port and haul it back inside, while listening to one of their petty officers explain the functions of all the kit they were expected to learn to use. Before the drum called the hands to their grog, Mister Harrison called a provisional gun crew he had formed and prepared one of the midship’s eighteen-pounders to fire. The second officer was not prepared to listen to any derision concerning his gun-pointing ability, so no target was fired upon. Instead the big long-gun vomited its ball directly into the sea a cable’s length to port.
Properly impressed, those members of the crew previously innocent of naval gunnery, had something to discuss with their shipmates. The ship was destined to meet up with a convoy off Plymouth and escort it to Gibraltar. Even her important duty laid on by the highest members of the admiralty could not exempt her from this task. Luckily, Achilles would not be the sole escort for this gaggle of merchants.
The first evidence of the convoy was a little eight-gun cutter off Plymouth. She identified herself as HM Cutter, Pluto; Lieutenant Commander Mason. Pluto began repeating signals from HMS Sussex, 74; Captain Morgan. Sussex, the senior ship, was out of Achille’s sight, but within signaling range of Pluto. Her first signal, repeated to Achilles, welcomed her to the escort and ordered her to take station to windward of the center of the convoy. By this time, the tops of the convoy were coming in sight, and Achilles sailed directly to her station.
A ship-sloop, Hera, also would share in the escort duties, as would an old brig-sloop, Vesta. The dispatch cutter would also accompany the convoy. With her miniscule armament, she was neither here nor there, when it came to her defensive capabilities, but Mullins was certain her naval crew and young lieutenant commanding her would be useful in any argument with privateers or outright pirates.
Weather conditions had become increasingly threatening and the convoy was sailing into the teeth of a moderate gale now. Sussex ordered her two dozen charges to adjust sail to conform to the weather. Every one of the individual merchant ship masters had his own idea of the proper way to sail in these conditions, and by next morning, the convoy was well scattered. Achilles was busy for the remainder of the day collecting ships and directing sometimes unwilling masters to their proper positions. Her crew now gained experience, as they loaded and fired blank charges to persuade reluctant merchant masters to do as they were bid.
The smallest escort, Pluto, proved to be the busiest of the escorts, as she acted something like a sheep dog, harrying her flock where they were needed. It was rare when she did not have a cloud of powder smoke behind her as she bullied her much larger charges.
The weather gradually moderated, and now Pluto became a messenger for the convoy commander. On the third day out, with the weather now favorable, Pluto came alongside the fri
gate and delivered a message from Captain Morgan.
On days when the weather permitted, he wished to invite escort vessel commanders aboard his ship in turn. On some occasions, certain of the merchant masters might be invited. Tomorrow was Mullin’s day. He was invited for dinner with Captain Morgan, where both captains could gain some understanding of each other’s problems and the capabilities of their respective ships.
The convoy was sailing on that day on a broad reach, with the watch on deck having little to do. As Mullins prepared to drop into his boat, he asked the first officer to conduct gun drill in his absence. No firing would take place, the guns would be merely run out and back in ‘dumb show’.
Several repetitions took place before Mullin’s boat hooked onto the flagship. Captain Morgan was amused. “For a moment, when I saw all of your guns run out, I thought Sussex was about to receive a broadside. How often do you exercise your men?”
Answering, Captain Mullins said, “At the beginning of a cruise, when I may have men with whom I am not entirely familiar, I try to have gun drill every day.”
Morgan nodded, “What about live fire? Do you do much of that?”
“Sir, as you know, Admiralty discourages us from burning the King’s powder except in earnest. I try to purchase powder privately that I can use whenever I feel the men need the experience. At this time, I have some privately purchased powder that I am prepared to expend. I thought it proper to ask your permission before I do any firing though. I would not wish to alarm any of the merchants.”
The escort commander had no objections to her escorts blazing away any extra powder, so for the next week, both Achilles and Vesta kept up a thunderous uproar. These were the only ships with the extra powder, the others must remain quiet.
On the following Sunday, by order of the convoy commander, all guns were to remain silent, in deference to the passengers aboard the convoy, who had requested a period of quiet to calm their nerves.
Captain Mullins was not unhappy. His people had had some good training over the past few days and anyway, his private powder stores were becoming depleted. Instead, he decided to read out the Articles of War to his people. The men had, in fact, been called aft in their freshly cleaned clothes and assumed the properly reverential attitude, when the midshipman of the watch intruded and indicated the flag was signaling.
Delaying the proceedings, the captain waited to see what was on Captain Morgan’s mind. The signal seemed routine enough, two sails sighted, hull down, to leeward. Mullins was to run the sighting down and see what he could make of it.
Captain Mullins was happy enough to take on this task. Being tied to Captain Morgan’s apron strings could be hard work. Haring off to leeward after these two strangers might relieve them of some of the stress to be found hazing reluctant masters to get back into position. Then too, after running many miles to looard, who could say how long it might take them to find the convoy again?
Most of the crew breathed more easily after they went below to take off their Sunday-best and resume their working clothes. The sightings were not in evidence as Achilles turned away from the convoy. Sussex had been closer when they were sighted, beside her tops were loftier than Achilles’.
Soon though, two tiny notches appeared on the horizon, and there they were. A midshipman raced to the top with a glass and reported two sail, one brig-rigged, the other a schooner. Neither was flying an ensign.
Mullins had his suspicion about this sighting. Sussex was just still in sight and he ordered the information sent to her, but doubted the signal could be read at this distance. As Achilles set all sail she could bear, another ship came into view, behind the first two. This last was ship-rigged, but something seemed to be wrong with her rigging.
Deciding to see if his crew could get the ship cleared for action faster than their previous attempts, he gave the order. His men somehow got the idea their commander believed these were enemy ships and the possibility of prize money was at hand. The captain had never seen his men move so rapidly. Afterward, he had his petty officers go about the ship to make certain she was indeed ready for action.
Aside from a few easily-corrected minor errors, the ship was ready, and the men stood by as Achilles neared the trio. The brig and schooner were standing between Achilles and the new sighting, as if they were somehow defending her.
There was indeed something wrong about the ship. Her fore tops’l was torn, and the yard itself was broken. As he watched, a party of topmen tried to take in the yard and sail, but there were too few of them and they made a mess of the attempt. As the ships closed, he could see through his glass some of the main’s shrouds had been severed and the mast itself had a decided lean. Then too, shot holes speckled the ship’s beam as she lay broadside to them. This ship had been in an action, very recently too.
The brig seemed anxious to prevent them coming closer and ran out her battery. This amused Mullins, who only counted seven guns on her broadside. Achilles herself had thirteen in hers, with another three big carronades fore and aft. When Achilles’ guns came out, the brig reluctantly turned away and put her quarter to the wind. The schooner, a smaller and more fragile vessel, had already seen the wisdom of retreat and was well on her own way.
The ship, her hull and rigging shattered, rode in the sea, her sheets flying in the wind, in a position of surrender. The launch and cutter were filled with armed seamen and Marines and sent alongside, while Achilles threatened her with her starboard guns. Minutes after the prize crew went up her side, the launch returned, with Mister Midshipman Turner in her sternsheets. He reported the ship was the British merchant ‘Lord Howe’, out of Plymouth, bound for the Caribbean with a cargo of household sundries.
She had become separated from her convoy in the recent storm and had been taken by this pair. Because of language difficulty, it was not clear whether they were privateer or pirate but neither had shown a flag. Half the Lord Howe’s crew had been slaughtered and the others struck below.
Bosun’s Mate Wilkins, now commanding the prize, was clearing away the damage and should be ready to sail in an hour. The former prize crew were put in irons and sent below.
Later, on their way back to the convoy, Wilkins came on board Achilles and made his own report. Half the crew of the prize had been maliciously slaughtered, the remainder had been badly beaten.
Wilkins was certain, from what he had learned from the surviving members of the original ship’s company, that the prizecrew he now had in his custody, were in fact pirates.
The pirate crew secured below in the Lord Howe were mainly French islanders, with a few Spaniards. None of them would or could speak to their captors, so Mullins ordered them to be kept secured until he could report to Captain Morgan.
Achilles spent the next three days running down the convoy. It soon became apparent they were not the only ship in pursuit. The pirate schooner was sighted off their forward starboard quarter one morning. Achilles made an attempt at pursuit but could not catch up. Later, the brig was also sighted. Perhaps the pair was not ready to admit defeat and hoped to take another prize or two.
While still chasing, Achilles encountered another storm. At first, it seemed not as severe as the first one they met. Then, they met a blinding line squall. The winds were so severe that the reefed fore topsail blew out in an instant. The hands spent a busy half hour to get repairs made and the ship under proper control. After clearing the weather, they met a broken merchantman left behind by the convoy. The brig had lost much of her canvas and her cargo had shifted. Lying on her port beam, her gunnel was under water and her pumps were having trouble keeping up with the influx. Men and pumps were sent to her assistance and eventually she was put into some semblance of order. She did not have a spare suit of sail, so the sailmaker used some old worn canvas from Achille’s sail locker to get her before the wind again.
Achille’s was acquiring quite a little fleet of her own. With none of his flock being an example of a swift vessel, Mullins was concerned with the pirate
vessels coming upon him. Granted, Achilles was vastly superior to either or both in gunnery, but they were nimble craft and it would not be surprising should one of his flock become separated from their lone guardian during an action.
In the event though, it was the main convoy that came under attack again. The guns were first heard before daylight. The pirates must have stumbled upon the convoy by accident and someone had fired. Now, a number of guns were sounding in the distance and Mullins thought Sussex must have become involved.
At daybreak, the whole tableau was spread before them and it was possible to see the problem. The merchants were scattered about, with the four remaining escorts attempting to gather their flock. Sussex was up forward with a few ships, but the little schooner was nipping at her heels. If the liner could have connected with a solid broadside, the schooner would have ceased to exist, instantly.
The schooner was too nimble and somehow a merchant was in the way whenever the liner did have a shot. The ship-sloop had gathered a few merchants and appeared to be handling herself properly, but the brig-sloop was in trouble. She was hard pressed by the pirate brig and now the schooner had left the battleship and was joining the fight.
The cutter came dashing to the fray with her popguns. She dashed in like a nimble ferret, then turned and left before she could receive fire. Still distant, Mullins opted to engage the brig in order to save the cutter from suffering important damage.
The brig, now alarmed, turned and attempted to flee, but an almost miraculous shot from the cutter put a four-pound ball into the corsair’s stern, jamming her tiller. The brig’s steering was disabled for only a few minutes, before the little ball that was jamming the rudder fell out, but in that time, Achilles came closer and now there might just be a chance.
The broadside was fired, and several balls struck, with serious damage being done to the hull of that brig. With numerous casualties already suffered, as well as the loss of men sent away on a prize, this pirate no longer had the men to conduct a good fight. The commander of a National ship would have likely hauled down his flag to avoid more casualties.
HMS Falcon: A Charles Mullins novel, Sea Command 7 Page 15
