HMS Aphrodite (Sea Command Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: HMS Aphrodite (Sea Command Book 1)
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In an attempt to dissuade him from that course, he ordered a gun fired to leeward, an invitation

to fight. If the frigate ignored the challenge, every observer would see that captain’s decision to avoid combat as a reflection of his courage.

There would be no such question about this captain’s actions though. He continued straight for Aphrodite, probably planning on smashing this interloper, then continuing on to his duty with the convoy.

Mullins discussed his planned actions with his officers, then walked the deck talking to the individual gunners. He informed them he intended to come to port shortly, back his topsails, and wait for the enemy to come up. When he decided they were within range, he would order ‘Fire”. When the gunners heard that, they should take careful aim, making certain their guns were all trained true and only then, pull their firing lanyards.

He would determine what his next action might be when he saw the results of this fire. If any important spars were shot away, he might range closer and fire into the enemy again. Otherwise, he would run for a bit and then repeat the previous action.

When he looked over his men’s faces, he saw many of them grinning with confidence. Looking back at the enemy, he saw the slower ship was falling back. Not wishing to discourage her, he turned his ship to port and backed his topsails, waiting for her.

Now almost stationary, he lay there as the big frigate forged ahead.

To the gun captain of the nine-pounder long gun by the helm, he asked, “What do you think Ripley? Can you hit her at this range?”

The gunner shifted his quid, pondered a bit then said. “Reckon I could Captain. But most of the others couldn’t. It might be better to wait a mite longer.”

Mullins spoke, “Tell you what Ripley. When you think she is close enough, just fire off your gun. Then, I’ll tell the others to fire.”

Staring with deadly intent down the barrel of his gun, Ripley nodded, saying to his captain, “Reckon this will do Captain.”

With one last glance down the barrel of his gun, he stepped aside, waited for the roll and pulled the lanyard. As the gun bellowed, Mullins shouted, “On the up-roll men, fire.”

One gun, fired immediately by an excited gunner before the ship completed its upward roll, plunged its ball into the sea far short of its target and did no damage, but several balls, fired as the ship rolled upwards on the swell, crashed home on the oncoming frigate. Through his glass, Mullins saw a swirl in a group of men on the enemy’s forecastle when a ball passed through the crowd.

Seeing no important damage though, he put the ship to the wind again and resumed their flight from the enemy.

Several times that afternoon, they tried the same tactic, coming to, firing a broadside then fleeing. On the third occasion, the ploy did not work as expected, since the enemy came about when they did, and fired her own broadside, Aphrodite received a pair of twelve-pound balls smashing through her hull.

With the convoy long since run below the horizon, Mullins decided he could stop this game now, before his ship received major damage. Continuing on his course through the night, there was no sign of either the enemy or convoy the next morning.

 

Changing course to Elba, he arrived there alone, four days later, without any more encounters with the enemy. The convoy had not been seen since the separation. The harbor of Portoferrio, the destination of the convoy, was empty of shipping, save for the normal small vessels to be expected in a port of this size. Apparently, the evacuation convoy had already arrived and departed.

 

With no sign of hostile activity, Aphrodite made for the mainland close by. The small coastal village specified was noted behind its protective break wall. Other than a few beached fishing boats, there was no sign of activity at sea. A few children could be seen through a glass, peering at them from behind buildings. The newly acquired and now repaired launch, under the command of the second officer, was no sooner in the water, filled with armed seamen and Marines, when a disturbance could be seen on the beach. A fellow, surrounded by local townspeople, was waving his arms at the boat.

Through his glass, Mullins watched the man, dressed very much like a British seamen, approach the landing party and knuckle his forehead to the officer. Then he saw the man lead the party into town.

After a long wait they returned, the Marines carrying a door on which a man was laying. This person, still on the door, was placed across the gunwales of the ship’s launch. By the time the launch reached the ship, the ship’s bo’sun had lines rigged to hoist the man on board.

Mr. Weyland reported he had found these men on shore. Both were crewmen from HMS Ranger who had strayed away from their landing party the day before, on Elba. Both had become overtaken by drink in a local wine shop and had been set upon by locals. The man with the broken leg, Akers, and his mate Hardisty appeared to have received recent beatings. Hardisty had stolen a small boat and sailed it across to the mainland. A local physician treated them both and Hardisty at least now, seemed healthy enough.

 

Mullins cringed inwardly at the trouble this was liable to cause. He would have to report this event in the log and both men were apt to be charged with desertion, a crime which could well bring the death sentence. Bracing himself, he ordered Akers to be sent below to the surgeon, while he would see Hardisty immediately.

Hardisty was escorted by two large bo’sun’s mates into the great cabin. Hardisty had little to say regarding his offense and Mullins felt compelled to order him put into restraints to be held for court martial. Just before going out the door, Hardisty muttered something about the poor British lady on shore.

Curious, Capt. Mullins called him back. While Hardisty would have nothing to say about his own escapades onshore, he was willing to natter about this British couple he had met there. In his account, the husband was a British businessman who had interests on the island. His wife had been in the process of a difficult labor when the evacuation convoy arrived off Elba. There had been no time or practical means to get the woman, in the midst of her labor, across the strait to Elba.

Mullins went back on deck and conferred with Lieutenant Weyland. The officer assured him there were no signs at present of hostile forces nearby. Calling for his coxswain, the captain ordered his gig and boat crew made ready. He was pulled ashore wearing his best coat and hat, his buttons and buckles gleaming.

All was quiet onshore. Aside from a few children who approached begging for coppers, there seemed to be no activity. Hardisty, accompanied by a pair of Marines, showed the way to a roofless old church near the center of the village. Behind it, was a stone outbuilding that Mullins could tell by the evidence that had been used for housing goats.

A disheveled middle aged man met them at the entrance. He introduced himself as Ned Roberts, a purchaser and importer of Italian wines. Asked about his wife, he said she seemed to be recovering now, having just delivered their new daughter. Roberts assured them, a few hours ago he was certain his wife had little time to live, her suffering was so intense.

When asked if he would like to leave the island with his wife and daughter, the man was enthusiastic. Roberts wished to meet with Sir John Jervis to confirm a recent wine order. He wondered though if his wife’s physician could be taken along also. It seemed Dr. Martel was a noted Paris surgeon and Royalist.

He had fled France to escape the Terror and taken refuge on this island where he thought he would be safe. With French forces approaching now, the surgeon was terrified. His funds exhausted, he was unable to flee.

Mullins paused not a moment. He asked Roberts to notify Martel he was welcome aboard Aphrodite and would be taken to safety. A servant was sent flying to inform the doctor and in due course, a short round man appeared with an equally round wife and four children.

Martel did not speak English, so Roberts did the honors. A concerned ship captain wondered if this was the doctor’s family. Assured this was indeed the case, Mullins had not the slightest idea where he might stow all these people. Never mind though, that was the purpose of first officers, their lot in life was to earn their pay by making difficult decisions for their captains.

Unable to get everyone in the boat, Mullins reached into his purse and extracted a sixpence. He wished to get Aphrodite out to sea before the French arrived and thought to save time by having a shore boat take the doctor’s party to the ship.

He attempted to ask a group of townspeople if someone could deliver the additional passengers. No one understood his English, but they all knew what silver looked like, in all its forms.

As the townspeople crowded around, Roberts interpreted the message. An older man dressed in fish-smelling work clothing pointed to his equally noisome boat. This craft had apparently recently returned from a night’s work and the evidence was readily apparent to one’s nose. Roberts questioned him and reported he would take the extra passengers out for two of the silver coins, but advised against it.

“He will do it for a single sixpence, like enough sir. He just wants to bargain.”

Not wishing to waste more time, Mullins found another sixpence in his purse and handed both to the astonished fisherman. The new passengers boarded the stinking boat with no sign of protest. Mullins ordered his boat crew to keep pace with the fishing boat.

In the long pull out to the ship, he noted the doctor’s family, all of them very solemn on shore, were becoming more animated the closer they came to Aphrodite. The younger children especially, were jumping around like a boatload of puppies.

Once aboard Aphrodite, the passengers were herded aft while the ship was being readied to put to sea. With a French fleet expected to arrive soon, he wanted to get away from the land as soon as he might.

 

Mister Lafferty set the ship on a southerly course that would bypass Corsica and Sardinia and take them into the open sea. There, he intended to sail directly for Gibraltar. This part of the Med was becoming unsafe for a lightly armed warship, now that Spanish warships were taking the sea with their French allies.

Mister Roberts informed the captain that he had heard talk back on Elba that a combined French and Spanish fleet had been seen by fishermen just offshore.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

With the wind on her quarter, the ship was behaving well and no threats were immediately apparent. Now was a good time to make some disposition of his passengers, who were increasingly underfoot, especially Doctor Martel’s offspring. Doctor Martel himself stood by the helm, discussing affairs of state with the confused Welch quartermaster, who could make little sense of the doctor’s French.

A flustered Mme. Martel, sure her brood would undoubtedly plunge into the sea at any moment, feverishly tried to keep them by her side, with little result. The older boy, Charles, seemingly about four years of age, was bent upon following the seamen aloft and Lieutenant Weyland was seen to scramble up the portside mizzen shrouds to rescue the lad.

Henri, about a year younger, would follow his brother anywhere, and if the elder boy was prevented his mischief, the younger would try to succeed in his place. There were two other children, Michelle, about five was a little mother, devoted to her infant sibling and lately to the Robert’s newborn girl. When not attending to these youngsters, she vainly attempted to moderate her younger brother’s activities.

Concerned that some of these children were apt to be lost over the side as a consequence of their antics, Captain Mullins summoned one of his topmen. Bill Lasker had been ruptured on the voyage out from England and was no longer fit to do any strenuous work, but knowing Lasker was a father himself, thought he might be able to restrain the boys.

The efforts succeeded better than he thought. In an hour, Lasker had the four older children and one of the infants huddled in a circle on the foredeck, receiving lessons on tying various seamen’s knots. When the children tired of that, he sat them in a circle and began telling sea-stories. Some of the language in these stories was perhaps not quite what a careful mother would like her children hear, but since neither Mme. Martel nor the children could understand the English words, Mullins did not see any reason to interfere.

He made a mental note to have the children transferred to another ship, when convenient, one preferably with a person more used to caring for children. These youngsters would soon begin to parrot the seamen’s language they were hearing, and that might astonish some people on shore.

As far as quarters for his guests were concerned, he evicted his first officer, Mister Harden, from his tiny cabin and took it over for his own use. Harden confiscated Mister Weyland’s cabin and Weyland went to dwell with the midshipmen.

The Martel family took over the captain’s dining compartment, with a newly constructed bed replacing the great table, which was taken apart and struck below. The Robert’s had to settle for his smaller sleeping compartment and both families were to be allowed to use the chart room and his quarter gallery.

Almost at once the squabbles began, with anguished repetitions of the various grievances. Since he could not understand Mme. Martel’s expostulations, he felt, in justice, he should not listen to Mrs. Robert’s own issues. Therefore he ordered his officers to keep both women away from him.

 

Sailing south past Sardinia, with the wind behind them, all was quiet, save for the occasional feminine dispute. Doctor Martel too, was prone to argue medical procedures with Mister Bellinger, but these were carried on in French or Latin, which did not usually intrude on anyone else’s conversation.

When these arguments became too vocal, Mullins could always order his own ship’s surgeon to pipe down, something he could not do with the women.

With no need for any sail adjustments, the starboard watch presently on deck was having an easy enough duty. The children were up forward listening to one of Laskers’s sea stories, when the main lookout called down, reporting a sail in sight coming out of an inlet on Sardinia.

 

Events on that island were confused at the moment, with various factions vying for control. Some of these factions might well be friendly, but Mullins had heard some were siding with the French. He decided to veer away to port to stay out of the way of this fellow. At length, Mister Weyland, from his perch in the crosstrees, reported this sail was a ship-rigged cargo vessel of no particular importance.

Some of the crew began to chatter about taking the ship as prize, but Mullins did not listen to their speculation. He had no idea of her nationality and a chase to close her might give an enemy opportunity to come up to him. With his cargo of women and children, he felt he had no business in chasing prizes.

The stranger veered to pass him astern and was soon out of sight. There was still much nattering about this missed opportunity, when another sighting was made. This one, there was no mistaking. Flying a tri-color, this corvette emerged from a Sardinian inlet and immediately came after Aphrodite.

Appearing from a distance to be about the same size as Aphrodite, Mullins was not unduly worried, until he saw the armed brig that sortied after the ship. With only four small guns on her broadside, she was not an immediate threat to the twenty-two gunned ship-sloop. However, if the corvette, of equal armament to Aphrodite, came to action with her and could hold her, the brig might be able to come up astern and pound her with those guns, without any good way for the British ship-sloop to respond.

 

While he was mulling over his options, Mister Harder came stumping aft, his peg-leg making its distinctive clicking sound as he came across the deck. Weyland was already standing by the helm, having already seen to the guns. With no gunnery experience since the American War, Harder asked what weapons on the approaching vessels they might be facing.

Weyland answered, his glass already trained upon the two approaching warships. “Sir, the big ‘un looks like your standard French corvette of twenty-two guns. Very much like our ship. Looks like her guns are the normal French eights, very close to our nine-pounders in size. The brig has her ports closed and I can’t quite make out…Wait! She’s opening some ports.”

Weyland added, “Captain, I think she is armed with carronades. I don’t know what she thinks she is up to, opening her ports at this distance. She is too far away to have a chance of hitting us with carronades.”

Harder had his own glass on the enemy warships. “The corvette has been signaling, and the brig answering. Maybe the brig is simply following orders.”

Mullins had a problem now. The brig could be considered harmless, so long as she was kept at a distance and was unable to use her short-range weapons. Let her close though, and her powerful carronades could do dreadful damage.

While the officers had been distracted by the actions of the enemy, the powder monkeys had been bringing up the powder charges for the guns from the magazine below decks. The oldest Martel boy, aping the lads, some scarcely older than himself, attempted to draw cartridges from the gunner to take up himself.

Master Gunner Jones, well versed in the way of young rascals, was having nothing to do with his wishes, so the boy, accompanied by his brother Henri, occupied himself by running about the foredeck.

The winds had picked up since noon sightings and now the ship was plunging into the waves, shipping water onto the deck on occasion. Mullins had just become aware of the lad’s new antics. Lasker, their minder, had been called away to serve as one of the gun captains, and, at the moment, the boys were under no one’s control. As he roared an order to get those boys below, a wave came aboard, the concurrent lurch of the ship slipping young Charles right over the lee rail.

There was activity on deck as Mister Lafferty, on orders from Mullins, put the ship about. The captain’s gig was towing behind, so it was pulled up alongside and the boat crew tumbled aboard. Everyone on deck kept his eyes on the diminutive speck in the water, which was beneath the surface much of the time.

Although Seaman Lasker was not a member of the boat crew, he used his status as the boy’s ‘sea daddy’ to exert his right to be aboard the boat and was the one who pulled the inert little body into the boat. Lasker had come from a family that made their living fishing from small boats in all weather and was familiar with what must be done. Placing the boy over a thwart he began pushing down on his back, trying to expel as much water as he could, rhythmically keeping this up until the boat was alongside the ship.

By the time the lad was passed up to the deck, he was coughing and sputtering, very indignant over the rough treatment he was receiving. Mister Bellinger, the ship’s surgeon, as well as the boy’s father, Doctor Martel, were waiting, and the boy was immediately hustled below, with no time for the frantic mother to comfort the boy.

Mullins now had other matters to attend to. During the rescue, the ship had been standing toward the two enemy warships, and now they were alarmingly close. The brig and corvette were in line ahead, with the brig leading. As Aphrodite came about, she fired off her broadside at the brig, raking her severely. The brig came about and tried a broadside herself, every shot of which missed, just out of range.

Aphrodite was able to get another broadside in before the brig fell behind, with serious damage in her tops, but now the corvette was coming up with a bone in her teeth. Mullins elected to engage the corvette, with the brig now seemingly out of the fight, at least until she could make repairs. The crashing of the guns were punctuated by the piercing screams of Mme. Martel who was confined on the orlop deck with Mrs. Roberts and the children.

Mrs. Roberts however, soon escaped to the cockpit, where she first assisted the surgeons in treating the wounded. Later, when one of the powder boys was brought below with a bad splinter wound, she took his place delivering powder cartridges to number-three gun. She had taken the lad’s place while both doctors were hard at work on the increasing number of casualties being carried below, and the firing on deck had reached a crescendo.

Both ships lay beam to beam a cable’s length distant and were pounding each other unmercifully. When Mullins saw the previously crippled brig get a jury rig replacing her foremast and come to the wind, he thought the end might be near.

But then, the corvette’s foremast began to lean gradually, at first, then faster, as her shrouds and stays tore loose. The brig now used her newly gained mobility to come about and make her way back to the Sardinian inlet from which she had emerged. With her foremast and its rigging in the water, the corvette was incapable of sailing, and after a few more exchanges, her colors fell to the deck.

Mullins was certain he must burn the prize, since he had lost so many men killed or wounded, he had barely enough people to get Aphrodite to port. Mister Weyland had a musket ball strike his left leg at long range. Apparently, the bones were not broken, but the flesh was badly torn, and Doctor Martel wished to have it off, to forestall gangrene. Weyland, knowing how the loss of his leg had damaged Hardin’s career, would have nothing to do with the idea. He would rather risk gangrene than go through life as a cripple.

The captain had gone below to discuss the matter with both doctors. Weyland had been administered the Navy panacea for pain, rum, while Dr. Martel had dosed him liberally with laudanum. Martel was certain the amputation must proceed if the patient was to have any chance for survival. Mister Bellinger was not so certain.

“Sir, if Mister Weyland had been sent to me during the height of the action, I would have had his leg off immediately, as a matter of course. Now that there is time to reflect, I believe we have some time to wait to see if the mortification does set in. I think we might wait a day or so before we have to make a decision.”

 

Mullins went back up on deck after receiving a report that a ship’s boat was approaching under sail. Through his glass, he could see that it was a large long-boat filled with men, probably thirty or more. As a precaution, he ordered the able-bodied men left aboard the ship to arm themselves.

When the boat hooked on, it could be seen that most of its people were some variety of Englishman, with the usual proportion of Blacks and other groups commonly found on British flagged ships. An individual in a blue coat was the first through the entry port and identified himself as Mister Spencer, second mate of Poseiden, a three-decker East India Company ship, which had been taken by the corvette and brig that Aphrodite had just faced.

The ship herself had been sent back to France with a prize crew. A few of the foreign members of the Company’s crew volunteered to help sail her in return for not being held as prisoners upon reaching France. Some of Poseiden’s original crew went with her as prisoners in the hold. The men in the longboat had been left behind, since it was felt they might be willing to attempt to re-take the ship. They had been held in a small stockade guarded by hired locals, who had melted away after seeing the results of the recent action. The men had broken out, seized the longboat and made their way out to the Aphrodite.

With thirty seamen to supplement his own people, Mullins decided he had enough men to sail the prize home. Accordingly, he sent Mister Hardin over to the prize with enough people to convince the French prisoners it might be well to cooperate with their captors. After a discussion with Mister Spencer, he learned the East India Company officer was, despite his recent privations, capable of serving as second in command of a ship.

Rating Spencer as master’s mate, he was given the duty of serving as first officer on board Aphrodite. Mister Harden would sail the prize back to Gibraltar, in company with the Aphrodite. Hopefully, Mister Weyland would recover and be able to return to the quarterdeck again.

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