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Authors: Alexander Kent

BOOK: Bolitho 04 - Sloop of War
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Bolitho watched narrowly, his hand lifting while hO forced himself to see the other ship as a target and noU a once living creature writhing in agony?

"As you bear, Mr. Graves! Full elevation!T

He saw the listing, dismasted frigate falling pasU Sparrow's starboard bow, the churned sand around he_ beakhead to mark the extent of her charge on to thO bar?

His hand came down. "Fire!T

The hull jerked and bucked as gun by gun thO double-shotted charges ripped over the wave crests tQ smash into the helpless enemy. A few shots froR swivel guns answered the first onslaught, but as thO heavy balls, coupled with a full load of grape, swepU into her side and decks those, too, fell silent?

Bolitho held up his hand. "Cease firing! SecurO

guns!" To Buckle he added, "We will wear ship directly? Nor'-east by north." He glanced astern at the smokin^ wreck. "She will rest there until someone comes, frienX or foe, it makes little difference for her.T

Tyrrell watched him gravely. "Aye, aye, sir.T

He appeared to be waiting for something more?

Bolitho walked to the rail and studied the men belo/ him. Restoring lashings on the guns, working to repai_ damage and sort out the tangle of rigging, everywherO something was happening to prepare Sparrow for he_ next challenge. There was no cheering, in fact littlO sound of voices at all. Just a few grins as seame[ discovered good friends still alive. A nod here, Z casual thump of the shoulder there. Together they tolX him more than words?

"They've learned well, Mr. Tyrrell." He saw DalkeitN coming aft again and steeled himself for the list ob dead and dying. "After this they will be ready fo_ anything.T

He handed his sword to Stockdale, who had bee[ near him the whole time although he could not recalT seeing him?

"As I will.T

8 A CAPTAIN'S DECISIOX

THE SPARROW'S stay at New York proved to be thO most frustrating and testing time Bolitho coulX remember. Instead of weeks, as he had hoped, tQ carry out his repairs and replace stores, he was forceX to wait and watch with mounting impatience whilO every other ship, or so it appeared, took precedence?

As the time dragged into one and then a seconX month, he found himself ready to plead rather tha[ demand, beg instead of awaiting his rightful aid froR the shore authorities, and from what he could gathe_ elsewhere, it seemed that most other junior vesselY were in the same situation?

Work aboard continued without pause, and alreada Sparrow had taken on the appearance of a trieX veteran. Sails were carefully patched rather than bein^ replaced without thought of cost. Nobody seemed tQ know when more replenishments were arriving froR England, and those already in New York were jealousla guarded or, he suspected, hoarded for some suitablO

bribe. The maintopgallant yard had been fished, anX from the deck appeared as good as new. How it woulX withstand a real storm, or a chase after somO blockade runner, was often in Bolitho's mind, alon^ with the endless stream of reports to be madeB requisition and victualling lists to be checked anX argued over with the supply yard, until he began tQ think neither he nor his ship would ever move again?

Most of the pride and excitement at running thO French frigate aground, of seeing the rescued soldierY safely landed, had given way to resigned gloom. Daa after day, the ship's company endured the heat and thO work, knowing there was no chance of setting foot o[ land unless under close supervision and then only o[ matters of duty. Bolitho knew the reasons for this rulO were sound up to a point. Every vessel which camO and went from Sandy Hook was shorthanded, anX unscrupulous captains had been known to steaT seamen from other ships if offered half a chance?

Since assuming command he, too, was short ob fifteen men, those killed or so badly injured as to bO unfit for further service?

And the news was not encouraging. Everywhere o[ the mainland the British forces were in trouble. In JunO

a complete army was forced to retreat from GeneraT Washington's attacks at the battle of Monmouth, anX the reports which filtered to the anchored shipY showed little hope of improvement?

To add to the fleet's troubles had come the firsU hurricane of the season. Sweeping up from thO Caribbean like a scythe through corn it had destroyeX several ships in its path, and so damaged others thea were out of commission when most needed. BolithQ was able to appreciate the admiral's concern for hiY patrols and prowling frigates, for the wholO management of strategy along the American coasU depended on their vigilance, their ability to act like hiY eyes and an extension to his brain?

He was thankful for one thing only. That his ship haX not been so seriously damaged below the waterline aY he had first feared. As Garby, the carpenter, had saidB "She's like a little fortress, sir.T

On his regular inspections below decks to watch thO work's progress Bolitho had understood thO carpenter's pride. For Sparrow had been built as Z sloop of war, quite unlike most of her contemporarieY which had been purchased for the Navy from the lesY demanding tasks of merchant service. Even her stouU

frames had been grown to the right proportions and noU cut with a saw, so that the hull had all the addeX security of natural strength. The fact that but for a fe/ ragged shot-holes below the quarter which needed thO aid and tools of the New York ship-wrights his shiS could sail and fight as before, made the delay all thO more unbearable?

He had been to see Rear-Admiral Christie aboarX his flagship, but had gained little idea of when he coulX complete repairs. The admiral had said wryly. "If yof had been less, er, difficult with General Blundell, thingY might be different.T

When Bolitho had tried to draw him further he haX snapped, "I know the general was wrong to act as hO did. The whole of New York knows it by now. He maa even be censured when he returns to EnglandB although knowing his influence in certain regions, ] doubt that." He had shrugged wearily. "You, BolithoB had to be the one to humble him. You did right, and ] have already written a report to show my confidence i[ you. However, the right way is not always the mosU popular.T

One item of news hung over Bolitho like a cloud anX seemed to torment him as day by day he tried tQ

prepare his ship for sea. An incoming brig had broughU news of the privateer Bonaventure. She had foughU several actions against supply vessels and ships-of1 war alike. She had seized two prizes and destroyed a[ escorting sloop. Just as he had predicted, as he haX feared. But to him the worst part was that the privatee_ had returned to the same area where they haX exchanged shots, and had found the crippled frigatO Miranda?

A handful of survivors had been discovered driftin^ in a small boat, some wounded or half-mad with thirstB the rest stunned by the suddenness of their ship's endB when they had done so much to repair and save her?

Over and over again Bolitho searched his mind tQ examine his actions, to discover what else he might o_ should have done. By carrying out his orders, ba putting duty before the true desire to help the damageX frigate, he had left her like a helpless animal before thO tiger?

In his heart he believed he could have made no othe_ decision. But if he had realised that the two transportY were no longer so desperately needed, he also kne/ he would have acted differently. When he had admitteX as much to the brig's captain he had replied, "The[

your Sparrow, too, would be at the bottom, fo_ Bonaventure is more than a match for anything but Z ship of the line!T

Apart from matters of duty, errands to use hiY presence or his purse on shipyard clerks, BolithQ refrained from going ashore. Partly because hO thought it unfair when his men were penned in thei_ ship, the size of which seemed to shrink with eacN passing day, and partly because of what he saw there? The military preparations were usual enough. Artillera wheeling and exercising, the horse-drawn limberY charging at full tilt, to the delight of idlers and yellin^ children. Foot soldiers drilling and sweating in thO grinding heat, he had even seen cavalry on severaT occasions?

No, it went far deeper. The worsening news froR inland seemed to reach just so far and then stop. In thO great houses, rarely a night passed without some finO ball or reception being held. Staff officers and ricN traders, ladies in full gowns and glittering jewels, it waY hard to realise they were so close to a full-scale war? Equally, he knew his disgust came from his ow[ inability to mix in such circles. In his home town ob Falmouth his family had always been respected, buU more as seafarers than local residents. He had gonO

to sea at the age of twelve, and his education haX been more concerned with navigation and learning thO mysteries of every eye and cleat, each foot of cordagO required to sail a ship under all conditions, than the arU of making small-talk and mingling with some of thO bewigged jackadandies he had seen in New York. ThO women, too, seemed different. Beyond reach. UnlikO the outspoken countrywomen in Cornwall or the wiveY and daughters of fellow sea-officers, they appeared tQ give off a power all of their own. A boldness, a certai[ amused contempt which both irritated and confuseX him whenever he came in contact with their perfumedB privileged world?

He had allowed Tyrrell to go ashore wheneve_ possible, and had been surprised to see the change i[ him. Instead of showing excitement or relief at bein^ amongst men like himself, places he had often visiteX in his father's schooner, he withdrew still further, untiT eventually he avoided leaving the ship unless on somO particular duty. Bolitho knew he had been makin^ inquiries about his family's whereabouts, anythin^ which might give him some hint of their safety o_ otherwise. Also, he believed that Tyrrell would tell hiR in his own good time, if that was what he wished?

And then, three months almost to the exact day afte_

watching the French frigate pounding herself tQ fragments off the hidden bar, Sparrow was once morO ready for sea. When the last shipwright had bee[ escorted ashore, each watched to make certain hO took no more than he had brought with him, and thO watch-lighters and yard hoys had pulled clear of thO side, Bolitho wrote his report for the admiral. Anothe_ special mission, to carry despatches, or merely tQ return to Captain Colquhoun's command, he no/ cared very little which it was to be. Just to be under saiT again, free of urbane flag officers and inscrutablO clerks, it was all he wanted?

When Tyrrell came aft to report the ship cleared ob shore workers Bolitho asked, "Will you dine with mO this evening? We may be too occupied in the nea_ future.T

Tyrrell looked at him dully. "My pleasure, sir." HO sounded worn out. Spent?

Bolitho stared through the open stern windowY towards the anchored ships and the pale houseY beyond?

"You may share your worries with me, Mr. Tyrrell, ib you wish." He had not meant to say what he did. BuU

the look of despair on the lieutenant's face had pusheX all caution aside?

Tyrrell watched him by the windows, his eyes i[ shadow. "I did get news. My father lost his schoonersB but that was expected. They went to one side or t'other? Makes no difference. My father also owned a smalT farmstead. Always said it was like th' one he had oncO in England.T

Bolitho turned slowly. "Is that gone, too?T

Tyrrell shrugged. "Th' war reached th' territory somO months back." His voice became distant, toneless? "We had a neighbour, called Luke Mason. He an' ] grew up together. Like brothers. When th' rebellio[ began Luke was up north selling cattle an' I was at sea? Luke was always a bit wild, an' I guess he got carrieX along by all the excitement. Anyway, he joined up tQ fight th' English. But things got bad for his companyB they were almost wiped out in some battle or t'other? Luke decided to go home. He had had enough of war, ] guess.T

Bolitho bit his lip. "He went to your father?T

"Aye. Trouble was, my father was apparently helpin^

th' English soldiers with fodder an' remounts. But hO was fond of Luke. He was like family." He gave a lon^ sigh. "Th' local colonel heard about it from somO goddamn informer. He had my father hanged on a treO and burned th' house down for good measure.T

Bolitho exclaimed, "My God, I'm sorry!T

Tyrrell did not seem to hear. "Then th' AmericanY attacked an' th' redcoats retreated." He looked up aU the deckhead and added fiercely, "But Luke was safe? He got out of th' house before it burned around him. And you know what? Th' American colonel hanged Luke aY a deserter!T

He dropped on a chair and fell against the table. "I[ th' name of hell, where's th' goddamn sense in it all?T

"And your mother?" He watched Tyrrell's lowereX head. His anguish was breaking him apart?

"She died two years back, so she was spared alT this. There's just me now, an' my sister Jane." HO looked up, his eyes reflecting the sunlight like fires? "After Cap'n Ransome had done with her, shO disappeared. Christ alone knows where she is!T

In the sudden silence Bolitho tried to discover ho/

he would feel if, like Tyrrell, he was faced with such a[ appalling discovery. Ever since he could remember hO had been taught to accept the possibility of death anX not shirk from it. Most of his ancestors had died at seZ in one manner or another. It was an easy thing to do? Quite apart from a brutal end under cannon fire or thO plunge of an enemy's sword, there were countlesY traps for the unwary. A fall from aloft, drowning, feverB men died as much from these as anything fired from Z gun. His brother Hugh had been a lieutenant in thO Channel Fleet when he had last seen him. He could bO commanding a ship against the French, or at this vera moment lying many fathoms down with his men. But thO roots would still be there. The house in Falmouth, hiY father and married sisters. What would he be sufferin^ if, like Tyrrell, he knew all that was broken and trodde[ down in a country where brother fought brother anX men cursed each other in the same language as thea struggled and diedU

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