HMS Athena: A Charles Mullins novel (Sea Command Book 4) (5 page)

HMS Athena had been prettied up as much as possible for her entrance into English Harbor in Antigua. The admiral and much of the fleet had left to avoid the hurricane season but some smaller craft were in harbor, specifically a thirty-two-gun frigate, HMS Harpy with her captain acting as commodore for the remaining smaller craft.

Mullins ordered the salute fired to the flag and boarded his gig before the summons came. He took with him his log and some letters Captain Cockburn had given him before parting. Aboard Harpy, he learned Captain Janders had gone ashore but would surely soon be back since the arrival of Athena would have made a stir in the town.

Sure enough, a smartly appointed captain’s gig was seen coming at speed toward Harpy. Mullins stood back as Harpy’s officers welcomed their captain. Upon introduction, Janders invited him into the great cabin and offered him wine and fresh island fruit. His journal on the desk in front of him, Mullins explained his presence. He recounted the actions with the French ships that had attempted to take the treasure ship and the near crippling injury that Athena had received.

The commodore grimaced when told how the French corvette had nearly caught them unaware at the island, and again when he learned they had fought an action with much of their powder spoiled.

“However”, Mullins recounted, “the French crew is now marooned on the island in the Caicos where we careened our ship. We left them two weeks of provisions. Maybe they are still there, if you would like to collect them.”

Athena was able to secure a new mainyard at the dockyard and managed to renew her powder supply, although he was warned the fleet had drawn much of the powder before leaving. The amount remaining was finite and he was warned to be sparing with what he had.

Captain Janders was not able to give Mullins any orders governing his future activities. “Probably your best course would be to complete your refit here, then proceed up to Halifax to see what they may want you to do there.”

“On your way north, perhaps you would take care to watch out for evidence of enemy activities. Since the fleet left us for the hurricane season, French privateers staging out of St. Martin trouble us. Those ships under my orders are too few to patrol the area and we are losing local shipping that are not sailing in convoy. If you could catch one or two of them, it would be of great help.”

Mullins allowed his men to have a run ashore before leaving. Only five did not return. Since these five were all landsmen, they were no great loss to the ship. Captain Janders was able to obtain a like number of men incarcerated in the local gaol. Their merchant ship had left port without them and the men had been causing trouble with the local populace until taken into custody. These men were now sad looking specimens, but they claimed to be able-bodied seamen. Despite their claims, Mister Farver put them on the books as landsmen, to be rated as ordinary seamen once they had demonstrated their ability.

HMS Athena left English Harbor sailing leisurely up the chain of islands. In addition to the official Navy issue of powder, he still had that which he had taken from their prize. The superintendent of the powder wharf explained that it was not possible to issue that powder to a Royal Navy ship unless it had been first re-manufactured and brought up to British specifications. There were no facilities to do that locally, so the simplest plan would be to sell it at prize auction. With no British privateers in port at the time to bid the price up, Mullins, as the only bidder, purchased the entire lot at his own expense and at a good price. He could use the powder as he saw fit without answering endless questions from Admiralty. He would now have the needed munitions to drill the crew with live-fire exercises.

While the post ship was still in ordinary, back in England, a party of French adventurers, venturing out to sea in small boats, boarded and seized the American merchant brig, General Washington, off the coast of Guadeloupe. The ship, laden with sugar and bound for Philadelphia, was easily overcome since yellow fever had afflicted the crew. Her captors, in a more settled part of the world, would have likely been judged pirates, since they had no letter of marque. Here though, a group of local businessmen purchased the prize for a pittance and all irregularities in her capture were forgotten.

The brig was taken into port, armed, and refitted as a privateer. For several years, French naval ships and privateers seized American ships and cargoes in retaliation for the cessation of war payments to France from the United States. Known as ‘The Quasi-War’, war at sea between the two countries continued for those years. While that war had been concluded by treaty before the new private warship could put to sea, the war between France and Great Britain had recently resumed and the new owners of the brig decided to send her to sea to attempt to make a return on their investment.

Given a crew of hard-bitten seamen, familiar with war at sea, the former American brig, now renamed Reynard, set out to find her prey. She was initially successful and was able to return her owners a significant return. She was armed originally with whatever guns could be found, but now her owners felt better artillery might allow her to take more strongly defended ships and bring more profit.

Another privateer brought in a transport, delivering among other items, a dozen 12-pounder long naval guns originally destined for English Harbor. These weapons were purchased and installed on the Reynard, replacing her old mixed-caliber guns. A professional naval officer might have warned the owners of Reynard of the dangers of overloading the lightly built merchant hull with the heavier ordnance, but no such advisor was present. Reynard’s captain, the former second officer of a French merchantman damaged in a storm, had not the experience necessary to advise the owners.

Reynard put to sea with additional crewmembers to serve as boarders. Her captain’s plan was to attempt to avoid damaging valuable hulls and cargo by swarming the victim with overwhelming manpower. She made her next capture without firing a shot. Having gained similar experience from the previous cruise, Captain Gougeon thought it unnecessary to expend expensive ammunition on practice when it was so easy to overawe a victim with hordes of screaming boarders at the rails.

One disadvantage of the strategy was the difficulty of remaining at sea for extended periods with this number of people on board. Consequently, it was necessary to return to port often to take on new supplies and replace those hands who wished to go ashore to spend their booty.

When Reynard left port on her third cruise, she had few members of her original crew still on board. Captain Bourgeon found it easy enough to leave word at waterfront bars that Reynard was taking men on as boarders. These men would receive no pay, as such, but would be recompensed by shares in any captures. Waterfront hangers-on with few skills as seamen, flocked to the ship. She rarely stayed at sea for long and had thus far returned with a valuable prize on her heels after each voyage. A boarder, with few other skills, could receive a pocket full of silver, with perhaps a gold piece included, for a short voyage. Everyone, owners, captain and crew was happy with the plan.

The hands aboard HMS Athena were not having an easy time. The people not on watch were expected to keep busy with normal ship’s maintenance as well as hours spent every day at the guns or on sail drill. Amos Senders aloft in the maintop, felt himself lucky to have, what many acknowledged were, the best eyes in the ship. Thus, Mister Farver usually sent him aloft when clear weather gave the ship the opportunity to spot another ship at long range. While the hands on deck were straining at the guns, Farver had made a nest of a studding sail and was comfortably working on his chew of tobacco. The most trying part of this duty was keeping one’s mind alert and ready to note the smallest blemish on the horizon that might prove to be a hull-down ship’s tops’ls.

Senders was ruminating over the possibilities of getting a share of Ira Patterson’s grog ration. Patterson was that rare bird, a seaman who did not drink spirits. Patterson did not offer up his ration easily though. One had to do him a respectable service, competing with the other seven men in the mess. As his mind explored the possibilities, his eyes caught a tiny notch on the horizon ahead as the ship rose on a wave.

The notch disappeared as the ship dropped into the wave’s trough, only to return as the ship rose again. Senders hesitated to call the sighting down to the quarterdeck. If that miniscule notch was a flaw in his vision, he might face ridicule. Considering the matter for a few minutes, he decided if he did not report the sighting, he would likely face worse from Mister Farver.

Gathering up his courage, he shouted to the quarterdeck. “Deck there, sail ahead, just off the starboard bow. Hull down.”

He had to repeat the call a second time before anyone took notice. Someone was not paying attention to his duty on number-eight gun and both Mister Farver and Mister Flowers were letting the guilty party know of his inattention. Captain Mullins was observing this scene and failed to hear Sender’s report. Lieutenant Howard was alert though and informed the captain.

Shortly after, Howard came clambering up the ratlines, and awkwardly gained access to the top by transferring to the futtock shrouds. Out of breath when he arrived, he could only ask, “Where away?”

With Senders silently pointing to the sighting, the target dropped below the horizon when the ship dropped into another trough. Mister Howard, unable to catch sight of the minute target through his wavering glass, impatiently asked Senders if he had not reported a bird by mistake.

Offended by the officer’s doubting tone of voice, Senders merely answered, “Nosir” and shrugged. If the officer would not listen to him, it was no skin off his ass!

As soon as he recovered his breath, Howard made his way down and reported the sighting was merely Sender’s imagination. Mullins was curious. Senders had always been a conscientious lookout. He felt it necessary to discover whether he could continue to count on the man. Regretting his silk stockings, he had donned earlier this morning, he made his own way up the shrouds. Before reaching the halfway point, his stockings were indeed ruined.

Climbing out on the futtock shrouds, he momentarily had the memory of the terror he had felt as a boy, making his first trips aloft. Attempting to quiet his shaking nerve by discussing the sighting with Senders, he asked, “Do you still have the sail in sight Senders?”

“Yessir” came the answer as the seaman pointed ahead. “Almost dead ahead, just a touch to starboard.”

Bracing himself against the topgallant shrouds, Mullins peered out through his glass in the indicated direction. Just as he had convinced himself that Howard was correct in his assessment of Sender, the ship raised up again on a swell and Mullins was rewarded by a tiny speck on the horizon sweeping across his vision. Concentrating now, he was able to steady the glass and keep the speck in sight.

It now remained in sight as Athena closed, but still dropped out of sight sometimes when the ship dropped into a trough. Mullins turned to Senders, “Amos, that eyesight of yours has earned you an extra tot of grog tonight. After your relief, you are free to go below and take a caulk. I will make sure nobody bothers you until it is time for your next watch.”

In due course, as the ships closed, it was apparent the newcomer was a brig, then probably a Yankee built one. Had the brig not have been on their planned course, Mullins might have been tempted to leave her in peace and continue on his journey north, However, he had been asked to search for privateers and this he would do.

The brig continued closing Athena. Initially, her lookout had not been as capable as Senders, and even after the sighting was finally reported, she was mistakenly identified as a French national corvette, which Athena had indeed been, some years before. Both ships correctly identified their opponent at almost the same moment. Briefly, Captain Bourgeon, of the private brig of war, Reynard, thought of engaging this Englishman. She appeared to be of similar size to Reynard and surely the private ship’s twelve-pounder guns would be superior to anything the Englishman was armed with.

Soon though, saner thoughts passed through Bourgeons head. A fight with this enemy ship would doubtless turn into a brutal slugging contest. Both ships would likely receive extensive damage. While the Britons had a king to pay for needed repairs to their own ship, any repairs needed by Reynard must be paid for by the syndicate of owners. The owners expected him to take his prizes with very minimal damage to the ship.

Reluctantly, bourgeon put the privateer came about, hoping to leave this fellow behind.

‘

Mullins could now see the brig from his quarterdeck and his glass confirmed the lookout’s opinion she was flying the tricolor. He had been hoping she would offer to engage, but then he saw her come about to flee. He noted the enemy captain wore ship rather than tacking. A captain with a poor crew or inadequate gear might choose to wear ship instead of tack. This involved turning away from the wind in a 270-degree arc before coming onto the desired course. Perhaps there was a problem with the brig, or maybe the difficulty lay with the crew. At any rate, Athena had a brig to chase.

Mister Cartwright was on deck, one eye on the rigging, the other on the helm. Mullins decided to keep his attention on the chase and leave the ship-handling to the sailing master. If the truth be told, he thought the sailing master to be a better practical seaman than himself anyway. In any event, they were gaining on the brig, slowly to be sure.

As the hours passed, Reynard had lost much of her lead. The excessive weight of those 12-pounders the privateer had recently taken aboard were pressing her down in the sea. Low in the water, she could not keep pace with her pursuer. Captain Bourgeon was furious with his first mate and the entire crew, placing the blame for the sailing qualities of the brig on them. Of course, in reality, the blame was his, alone. He had signed on the hands, many of whom were not seamen and selected those massive 12-pounders, which were making this formerly agile brig perform like an old scow.

It was beginning to appear that he was going to have to fight the Englishman after all. There could be little doubt of the outcome of that action. At this close range, he was sure his opponent was a French-built corvette. He had been aboard a few similar warships and knew this one could not survive a fusillade of 12-pounder balls at close range. He had the battle already planned as the enemy came closer.

While he had no guns firing directly to the rear, he decided when the pursuer came a bit closer, he would veer alternately to port and then to starboard. This would allow his after-most guns to fire at the target, hopefully getting in some destructive hits. Perhaps his fire might even knock down a mast. In that case, he could stand off and pound the enemy until she struck.

Of course, his owners would be upset with him for bringing in a badly damaged prize, but he would receive praise and respect from the local naval officers. So long as his own brig was not badly damaged, the owners would recover from their ire.

One minor problem caught his attention. As the enemy came closer, he realized she was not the minute little corvette he had assumed. He now knew that she was larger than his own brig and had more guns. This was of little consequence though. He knew his 12-pounders would outrange the 6 or 9-pounder guns he expected the British warship to be armed with. He would just have to open fire earlier, at a longer range, in order to damage the enemy enough that she could not be a threat to his brig.

With that idea in his mind, he decided he had allowed the enemy to approach close enough. His after guns would be just in range now. The helm was put over and almost immediately the big gun fired. Where the shot went could not be determined, but it did not impact near the enemy ship.

It was taking the untrained gun crew an inordinate length of time to reload the big gun so the privateer’s captain ordered the brig to veer in the opposite direction, to allow the other gun to fire. The strike of this gun was easily observed, since it struck the sea well off to starboard, short of the target.

Continuing her fire against the British warship, the privateer’s captain was becoming alarmed. None of the shots had taken effect upon the enemy and she had lost much of her lead. He had to expect the enemy to open fire upon Reynard with her own forward guns shortly.

This was not the worst of his problems though. The carpenter had run up from below, reporting the concussion of the big guns was tearing the brig apart. One of his gunner’s mates showed him the breaching cables had nearly pulled their eye-bolts through the timber on which they were mounted. An alarming sagging in the deck by the two after guns showed where support timbers below were giving way.

If only he could get a few hits on the enemy ship before she closed, he knew he could still win this battle. He was aware however, this would be his last voyage as captain. His owners would be outraged at the repair costs for the brig, if she could indeed be brought back to port.

Athena had closed the distance between them substantially, because of all the weaving the brig had done. Mullins decided it was now time for him to put fire upon this enemy. He regarded the captain of the brig a fool for loading her down with such massive weapons, but sooner or later, one of those balls was going to strike home.

Midshipman Archer was standing by his captain. Mullins was using the lad as a messenger to relay orders to others. Taking a moment to brief the mid of his plans, he sent him running to relay that information to the gunners of the fore and after carronades. Mister Howard was sent to oversee the gunners of the long guns amidships. He was about to order the ship to come around to port, with her starboard broadside trained on the enemy. He judged his well-practiced gunners on the main guns would have little difficulty in hitting the target. The carronade gunners might have more difficulty. They were at almost extreme range for such weapons. Not wishing to waste a shot, Archer would tell the carronade gunners the command ‘Open Fire’ did not apply to them. If the gunner felt he had little chance to hit his target, he must not fire, saving the round for a closer shot later.

However, if the gunner felt optimistic, he was free to fire on his own volition. The result was much as Mullins hoped. The long guns mostly hit the brig, peppering her stern with raking impacts which caused tremendous damage to ship and crew. One carronade gunner waited until the roll of the ship had his gun pointing over the target. The diminutive powder charge lofted the thirty-two-pound ball up and over the stern of Reynard, plunging into her deck about amidships. The ball, coming down with force, penetrated the upper deck and continued smashing its way through obstacles until being stopped by several casks of salt beef.

This was the shot that decided the brig’s captain to strike. His vessel falling apart around him, he well knew he would likely never get another command. But, if he hauled down his flag, he would probably survive the war. There was nobody left on his quarterdeck to pull it down. The surviving members of his untrained crew had mostly fled below. He had to do the deed himself.