“He is a merchant captain, as well as a Baltic pilot and you may trust his local knowledge. He is of course, a civilian employee of the Navy. He holds no warrant and you remain responsible for the conduct of your mission and the safety of your brig. You may use Captain Jensen’s local knowledge of the Baltic area to safely complete your mission. He has a complete selection of charts for the Skagerrak-Kattegat waters you will be using to access the Baltic.”
“Your orders have not been completely drawn up yet, but I’ll send them, commissioning pendant and mail bags over in the boat with the additional crew members that you are allotted. You may keep the boat and its crew. I think you will find the boat better than the one you have now.”
The launch as it came from HMS Intrepid the following day was a shabby vessel indeed, straight out of the dockyard’s boat pond, devoid of paint but it was filled with seamen and their sea bags. A midshipman sat in the stern sheets with a sailcloth bundle. The seamen, mostly a glum lot, boarded the brig and were handed off to Rodgers. The mid doffed his hat on boarding and handed the packet to Tim.
“Sir, my name is Thomas Dale. I am instructed to inform you that your orders and ship’s commission are in this packet. We could not get all of the crew in the launch, so I would like to send it back for the remainder. I am to tell you, unless you have questions, you are free to depart when wind and tide serve.”
“Thomas Dale, just where in the scheme of things do you come in?”
The lad pulled out a folded parchment from under his jacket and handed it to Tim. Captain Phillips learned that Mister Dale was to report on board HMS Alert and assume the duties of a midshipman.
“How are your navigational skills, Mister Dale? Well, never mind, I’d rather be surprised! Every day at noon sights, you will be on the quarterdeck with me to tone your skills.”
“Now, I see that you have brought me a number of new hands. Just what may I expect?”
“Sir, most are ordinary seamen, with a few landsmen. Captain Wilson sent you Harris, a landsman who can read and write. He said you may want to try him out as your clerk. Then, there is Davis, we think is a runaway apprentice. He might serve as your servant.”
“You ‘think’ he is a runaway apprentice, or you ‘know’ that?”
“Mister Allison, our third officer on Intrepid thought he remembered him as a servant in the ‘Bear and Bull Inn’, but wasn’t positive.
“That is well, Mister Dale. Since we don’t know he is a runaway, we need not feel guilty for pirating him away. Right now, before we become involved with other matters, you had better fetch the remainder of the hands.”
The original members of the crew were much disgruntled, having had their spell of ‘Out of Discipline’ cut short. It might be a trying time for the new members of the crew as they meshed with the old. Since there were many more of the new men, though, Phillips forecast the oldsters would need to temper their animosity.
*****
With everyone aboard, Phillips called Dale aside. “Because you are to all intents and purposes the brig’s first officer, I want you to go forward and enter all the new hands in the ship’s books. Later, you and I will go over the watch and station bill to determine just where we will place each man”
That evening Captain Phillips pored over his orders. They were simple enough. He was to sail for the Baltic to deliver mail and dispatches to Admiral Saumarez. He was required to lend Admiral Saumarez such assistance as was required and only after being released was to return to Portsmouth with whatever mail and dispatches he was provided. He was especially warned to avoid seeking combat with enemy ships, but was to defend his ship and his dispatches with all means at his disposal. If at any time it appeared his brig was about to be taken, he must dispose of all dispatches so they could not be captured.
The next morning wind and tide being suitable for departure, he ordered Dale to signal their readiness. In due course, the ‘Proceed’ signal was hung out and HM Brig Alert won her anchor and set sail.
Both Phillips and Dale were extremely busy. It was necessary to train the men in both gunnery and sail drill. Tim had not been able to take a leaf from his father’s book and purchase extra powder and shot for practice. However, the brig had been captured with a full load of ammunition issued by the French navy.
Captain Wilson had told him some of the brig’s ammunition may have been ‘overlooked’ in the count, so he knew he had a fair amount to use for practice which he need not account for.
Every day that was suitable, the guns left a pall of smoke to leeward from their practice and every day the crew practiced their sail drill.
By the time they rounded the Skaw and entered the Kattegat, Phillips could consider the brig ready to meet any enemy of their own size. There was plenty of concern navigating the Kattegat, especially at night when they entered, with its twisting channels. Phillips had learned to trust young Dale and one or the other of them was constantly near a leadsman in the chains to keep themselves aware of the depth.
The first evidence of trouble the Alert had seen on her voyage came shortly after entering the Kattegat. Their lookouts had been seeing plenty of fishing boats, but following their orders, stayed clear of them. However, at dawn, a herring buss came out of the mist to windward of Alert. This was a large fishing vessel that was common enough to encounter, but this one had a few guns.
Apparently its owners had thought to try a little privateering. At any rate, though Alert gave way to the vessel, the stranger was having none of it. She fired a gun in front of the brig, pitching the ball right up under her bowsprit.
Visibility was poor that morning with fog and light rain and probably the captain of the buss thought the plain looking brig was carrying cargo. Alert was a very beamy craft, with plain brown paint covering her hull. She was not what one thought of when one spoke of a King’s ship.
Alert’s commission pennant was flying and she wore her red ensign, alerting all and sundry she was a British warship and not some trader to be trifled with. Even so, the herring buss, after coming up on Alert’s quarter, fired off her broadside of two little four pounder guns.
Alert had just cleared for action, as she did every morning at sea and coming around a bit to port, run out her guns and fired off her portside eight pounders at the privateer. Alert carried fourteen of the French made guns, so seven of them replied to the pitiful two gun salute of the buss. Most of the balls hit and did terrible damage to the converted fishing boat. The privateer had originally been designed to hold quantities of fish and was not intended as a warship able to withstand cannon shot.
As the gun crews went into their reload drill, the captain told Mister Dale to have the guns reloaded with canister. This was a metal can filled with small caliber shot. Upon firing, the can fell away at the muzzle, sending a cloud of small shot hurtling toward the enemy.
There was little of the canister on board, but every gun had a load, as well as grapeshot nearby, so changing the loads did not slow the loading tempo.
The enemy vessel was still shocked by the vehemence of the brig’s reply to their challenge and had not managed to get a gun ready to fire. Her captain apparently was of the philosophy, ‘Fire and board in the smoke!’ and had never gone through the trouble and expense of exercising her gun crews. Her surprised crew had not expected the smashing broadside from what they had considered an under armed trader.
Alert’s guns fired again as soon as they were loaded and the deck of the enemy was swept clean. There was now no sign of their colors and no one upright on the quarterdeck. The privateer had been crowded with a mob of men serving as boarders. Many of these were down and the deck of the buss looked like the floor of a slaughterhouse at the end of a busy day.
Phillips ordered his guns to cease fire and the brig sat poised in the water, ready to resume fire should the enemy wish. Eventually, a junior officer on the buss waved a white flag and the fight was finished.
Phillips sent Dale and his bosun’s mate to inspect their ca
pture. Neither was much impressed. Rodgers reported the capture was an aging fishing boat that had been given four small guns and sent privateering. Her hull was shattered and Rodgers doubted she could make the voyage back home. Accordingly, the few remaining survivors were taken aboard Alert and the buss set afire.
CHAPTER THREE
Alert made her way into the Baltic, via the narrow passage between Helsingor on Danish Zealand and Helsingborg on the Swedish coast. The batteries on Zealand were under French control and would be dangerous if passed too closely. Phillips’ instructions mentioned the confusion regarding Sweden’s stand with the warring powers. Bonaparte was applying pressure on that country to deny access to British ships and indeed to wage war on Britain. No one was quite prepared to say which way the nation would go.
The passage between the two countries being only a bit over two miles wide, Alert shaved the Swedish side to stay as far as possible from the known enemy Denmark. While batteries on Zeeland tried ranging shots, the Swedish batteries remained silent.
Glad to emerge from the shallow Kattegat, Alert encountered one of Admiral Saumerez’ scouting frigates. Directed to the fleet’s location, Alert saluted the flag in HMS Victory. The brig flew the signal, ‘Have Dispatches’ and was directed to fall into trail behind Victory.
Summoned to repair on board the flag, Phillips, already closely shaved, in his best coat and scraper, went over the side into the launch. The formerly plain, shabby boat issued them back in Portsmouth, had been titivated under Bosun’s Mate Rodger’s close scrutiny and now was sparkling white and would not embarrass the brig.
The boat crew had also made themselves clothing from the white duck fabric supplied by the clerk substituting for the non-existent purser. Altogether, brig, launch and crew presented a most professional picture to anyone watching from Victory’s quarterdeck. As a mere master’s mate, Phillips knew better than to board at the traditional starboard entry port and went around to the port side.
When challenged by Victory’s watch officer, Phillips merely answered with an ‘Aye”.
Boarding without the aid of side boys or the stamp and clash of Royal Marines, Phillips was met by the curious watch officer.
He saluted the quarterdeck and the officer himself, then gestured to the crew in the boat to send up the mailbags. He already had the dispatch case attached to a lanyard around his neck. The lieutenant who greeted him wondered where the brig’s commander was. Tim had to explain he was in command. Further questions had to wait, when an ill-tempered captain on the quarterdeck wondered what the delay was all about.
Hurrying aft, Phillips handed the dispatch case to the captain, while a pair of seamen lugged the mailbags aft. Impatiently the liner’s captain waved the men with the mailbags to the first officer standing by and asked Phillips, “You have dispatches for Sir James?”
“Yes sir.” He said, handing the case to the captain.
“Follow me.” He said, heading for the great cabin.
Sir James accepted the package with a smile and cut the cords with a pen knife. Reading through some of the papers rapidly, he snorted at one and handed the paper to the flag captain.
Keeping his silence, as befitting a person that knew his place, Phillips stood there at attention. Saumarez looked at him and wondered. “Where is your captain, Mister? I hope he is intact?”
“Sir, I command Alert. Admiral Cotton said I was too young to promote, so he gave me the command in lieu of promotion.”
The flag captain chuckled and said, “This is a new one on me, Sir James.”
“Come on my boy, we get little gossip from home here. Tell us what you did to gain this command?”
“Sir, I was a mid on my father’s frigate, when we captured the brig from the French near the mouth of the Tagus, off Portugal. My father, Captain Phillips, had already sent most of his officers away in other prizes and had no one he could spare to command her. He gave me a temporary posting as master’s mate and ordered me to take command. Later, on the way south down the Portuguese coast, we encountered some French ships.”
“My father engaged a forty gun frigate and defeated her. With the frigate was a schooner-corvette which my command engaged and took. Admiral Cotton confirmed my appointment as master’s mate and put me in command.”
“I will be damned”, mused the admiral. Raising his voice, he shouted for his servant. The servant, with an air of ill-use on his face, appeared.
“Bring a chair over for this young man to sit on, then get him some wine. Not that swill you try to serve me, but the good article that you and your mates drink from my stores!”
The indignant servant went off, bringing back a ragged looking chair. After he left again, Saumarez chuckled, “That man has been suffering since I took him as my servant back when I was a lieutenant. He knows the fleet would sink if it were not for his labors.”
The wine was cool and refreshing. Phillips commented on it and the admiral said, “I have a little basket that will hold a half dozen bottles. Jenkins puts it overboard on fifty fathoms of light line. Some people do not know this, but the sea temperature generally gets colder the deeper you go. An hour at fifty fathoms here in the Baltic, will give a nice chill to our wine.”
While Phillips finished his wine, he noticed the flag captain had left. “Captain Phillips, you will oblige me to take some papers of my own back to Admiralty. We also have some mailbags that I hope you will take back and put into the hands of the Post.”
Looking at Phillips sternly, the admiral wondered. “Now then Captain Phillips, I see from your report that you had a little action in the Kattegat. Would you tell me about it?”
Phillips had put the details of his action in his report to the admiral, but now went through it again verbally. The admiral considered. “Very well, the buss was to windward close by when the mist cleared that morning. She fired at you. Was there no way you could have avoided her, if you wished?”
“Sir James, she fired as soon as we saw each other. She missed us, but I could not know if her gunnery was to continue to be so poor. Alert is not the fastest brig in the Navy and had I ran, I considered that she could continue pounding us with those four pounders. I decided my best option would be to take her.”
“No doubt you were right, Captain. One of my problems is, most of my officers are veritable fire eaters, who think a boarding action in the smoke is the proper action in most encounters with the enemy. The dispatches that you carry in your small craft are most important to the Navy and it would be serious indeed if one of the bags were captured.”
“You must always remember their safe delivery is the most important matter, even if you could be accused of showing the white feather in evading an action.”
“I do note you burned your prize rather than attempt to bring her in. That shows common sense, which I value. Whenever I see a commander whose sole ambition seems to be taking prize after prize, to the exclusion of all else, I have to wonder whether he should be in command of one of His Majesty’s ships of war.”
“Well, Sir James, she was really only an old fishing boat with a few guns. We had beaten her up rather badly and I didn’t have enough men to repair and man her, as well as deliver my dispatches in a timely manner.”
Admiral Saumarez nodded and bent over his desk, scrawling something on a sheet of foolscap. Folding it, he held a stick of sealing wax over the flame of a candle and dripped wax on the note to close it. Pressing his own seal into the soft wax, he dropped the note into a mail bag beside his desk.
The flag lieutenant, standing inconspicuously behind the desk came forward and slipped a slotted piece of lead over the bag’s draw-cord. The officer carried the mailbag over to the nine pounder gun in the admiral’s office and pulling the cord taut, he placed the lead seal on the gun’s breach and pounded it closed with a little hammer. A steel stamp placed over the lead and pounded sharply pressed the seal into the closure and ensured nobody could open the bag without notice.
Admiral Saumarez said, “I
believe, Captain Phillips, that our business is concluded. If you take that mailbag with you, I would be glad if you would place it in the hands of the post in Portsmouth.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Back aboard Alert, Phillips had Dale in his cabin, relating the subject of the talk the admiral had just given him. “I think it’s a damned good thing we burned that privateer. Else, Sir James would be certain we youngsters were just whoring after prizes and to hell with our duty.”
“Speaking of which”, Phillips wondered, “what are we doing just sitting here?”
Pointing out the stern window, Dale said, “The flag has had a signal flying to the squadron, ‘Send mail to Alert’. I thought we ought to wait until all the boats had reached us.”
*****
With the help of Captain Jensen, the brig slipped through the narrow waterway between Zealand and Sweden at night. Phillips had been informed back on Victory that Sweden was still neutral, but how long that might last was anybody’s guess. By hugging shore, with the two boats ahead with sounding poles, Alert passed with little apparent notice. The crew of a fishing boat pulling their nets waved, but sounded no alert.
Proceeding northerly, remaining in the deeper channel, Alert’s lookout spotted a sail off her port quarter. Phillips was not at first concerned since the passage between the Baltic and the North Sea was heavily travelled, mostly by peaceful merchantmen. As this vessel neared, it was seen to be a brigantine of about their own size.
Under normal circumstances, she might have been investigated closely, but with the warnings he had received, Phillips ordered Alert to steer clear. Turning to starboard, the brigantine followed.
His Magesty's Brig Alert: A Tim Phillips Novel Page 2
