On the King's Sea Service: A John Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 1) (8 page)

Securing an Enemy Battery

The attack was over in minutes. Basically, the landing party swept through the emplacement from the rear and the defenders ran out the front, into the forest on either side.

After the initial excitement had subsided, Phillips and Marshall organized a defense all around the encampment. This was a new battery, probably in place for only a few weeks. A wooden causeway laid upon the sand showed where the guns and other heavy gear had been trundled ashore after being unloaded from the transport.

Men searching the shallows at the head of the bay found a swamped barge, abandoned there after the battery had been established. Phillips thought he had perhaps a day before enemy forces began to gather before the installation. He had planned to destroy the guns in the same manner as they had the previous battery, but his boatswain came to him with an idea.

“Sir, I think we can pump out that barge and load those guns on it. I think it will hold them. We could float it out into deep water and sink it. Bore a hole in the bottom and it will sink, right enough, or we could just fire a couple of musket shots through the bottom.”

Checking the chart, Phillips noticed there was an area near the mouth of the bay with a depth of ten fathoms or more. He thought that sixty feet of water was enough to prevent the guns from ever being found or raised.

His gunner had some hardened steel spikes in his equipment box. He set to work pounding a spike into the touchhole of each gun, then breaking each brittle spike off. Since the spikes were harder than the surrounding cast iron of the guns themselves, it would be a major job to return them to working order, even if they could be raised.

Men were put to work digging a channel into the beach at the foot of the causeway. His people found some heavy timbers laid into the parapet of the battery. The prisoners, upon being questioned, reported they had originally made up the big tripod that had been used to hoist the weapons from the barge.

While his men were busy retrieving them, a delegation of civilians came down to the beach. Midshipman Mullins was brought ashore to speak to them. He reported, “Sir, the soldiers appropriated their oxen to use for rations. They want the cattle that are still alive back.”

His bosun had already reported they needed some draft animals to move the guns. Phillips knew there were half a dozen bullocks in a pen in the camp, but had no notion of working them. He told Mullins the locals could have the cattle, if they could get them to move the guns onto the barge.

The locals were concerned because the cattle had not been fed and would be weak from hunger, so he ordered a hundred pounds of biscuit brought ashore and given to the cattle. Once the first of the suspicious bullocks sampled the strange biscuit, the rest went after it like starving wolves.

While the trench was being excavated, another party went to the marsh where the barge had been abandoned. Its gunnels were about even with the top of the water, but a portable pump was brought to the site and men sent to work pumping.

At first, it seemed water slopped over the gunnels back into the boat as fast as it was removed, but after some men set to work baling with buckets also, the crew started making some headway. The water level in the barge soon began to drop rapidly. Presently, it was necessary to scoop out the foot of mud that filled the bottom of the boat.

The boat finally began to float. Its oars could not be found, so the Exeter’s launch tied onto it and towed it to the dugout portion of the causeway where it was manhandled into position. The big twelve pounder cannons were on carriages, so locals quickly hooked two span of oxen to a gun and hauled it to the tripod, which had been assembled so it straddled the trench. Then, the oxen were brought around to the cable running to the big block at the apex of the tripod. The last pair of oxen was hooked on and all were set to pull. With six animals pulling, the big gun slowly lifted off its carriage and violently swung out over the barge underneath.

The animals were slowly backed until the gun settled into the barge. Crew members pushed the now empty carriage away and the cattle were led around to bring another gun around.

By the time all the guns were on the barge, it had very little freeboard. The gunnels were within inches of the water. After the locals were told they could take the cattle and anything else they wanted from the battery, they swarmed over it like ants, hauling away anything they could carry.

While they were doing this, seamen were tearing up the causeway, piling up the wood under the tripod. Adding anything else that was flammable, including the empty gun carriages, a puncheon of oil found in the cook shack was broached and the fluid spread liberally over the pile. Lieutenant Marshall took a spare blue light and placed it under the oil soaked material.

The bagged powder charges from the magazine were removed and sent aboard both Bulldog and Exeter. This powder could be re-bagged and used for practice ammunition in the future, without having to account for it.

When the incendiaries under the pyre were lit, the blue flames flashed through the pile of material and it was fully engulfed in a moment. Phillips had warned the locals that troops could be expected to arrive at any moment, so they took their spoils and left.

With the locals gone, Phillips ordered the launch to tow the barge into the bay. He pointed out the area he wanted to sink the boat to the coxswain. He advised him to have his men row easy, since it would be easy for water to slop over into the boat and sink it. He made sure the cox’n had a sharp axe with him to cut the line, since if the barge went down it was liable to take the launch with it.

The crew of the launch with some effort got the barge moving. The carpenter went along in the launch with an auger, but it was not necessary. The barge travelled safely enough in the calm water of the bay, but as soon as they reached open water, the sea began slopping over into the barge. The cox’n immediately started chopping at the cable with the axe and just as it parted, the barge’s gunnels dipped below the surface and down it went. The cox’n let down a lead line to measure the depth at that point. Seven fathoms, over forty feet deep.

Phillips doubted any divers in the area would be able to descend to that depth and get a line on any of the guns. That would be if they knew where to find them. Phillips could see no sign of the locals. He was sure that none of them had seen the weapons sink. For all the enemy knew, maybe he had loaded the guns aboard ship and taken them away.

Fleur d’Orleans

Now, it was time to get away from the coast, before the wind shifted and pinned them there. Little Bulldog was first out of the harbor, signaling the way clear. Exeter weighed her anchor and sailed out into the sea with the offshore breeze. As the got out past the headland, Bulldog hoisted ‘Enemy in sight’, just as their own lookout shouted, “Sail off the starboard bow. Big corvette or maybe a frigate.”

A frigate it was, twenty eight guns in total. The British vessels would be taking a big chance were they to try to engage that ship. Her scantlings were much heavier than those of Exeter or Bulldog and her guns were probably larger. Phillips guessed twelve pounders. Exeter and Bulldog carried sixes, although Bulldog also carried a few 32 pounder carronades in forward and aft gun positions.

The frigate was heading straight toward the two British craft. She was now beating against the wind, just able to maintain her course, while Exeter and Bulldog were sailing large. In the enclosed waters, the pair would have to proceed past the broadsides of the frigate, not an appetizing choice. Phillips ordered the signal hoisted, ‘Form line astern’.

Bulldog backed her main topsail, slowing to let Exeter pull ahead. As the three ships converged, he told the master to handle the ship, so he could deal with the guns. He said, “I want you to swing us across her bows, so we can rake her.” Trusting that Drummond would follow him, he waited. As the frigate came up to them, her guns bristling, she could not fire yet, as she was bows on to Exeter. Phillips guessed she thought Exeter would try to slip by on the frigates starboard side and hoped to blow her to perdition with her broadside. Instead Avery turned the ship to starboard. Phillips ordered loudly, “When your gun bears, fire.”

He agonized for an instant that when he said the word ‘fire’, some blockhead might yank his lanyard immediately, but there was only quiet. The frigate’s yards started to swing around to match the sloop’s turn, but Exeter beat them to it. As her bow guns started to bear, they began to go off, one by one, the six pound iron balls ripping through the thin scantlings at the frigate’s bow and travelled the length of the ship, tearing and rending men, ship and equipment.

The enemy fired a broadside at Exeter, all her port side guns going off more or less at once, but much of it was wasted, many of the guns not bearing on their target. Looking back, he saw Bulldog had not been able to follow him around, holding on instead to cross the enemy’s stern, going right on past the now empty enemy guns. She took the opportunity to salute those impotent guns with her broadside.

Her six pounders did their share of damage, on top of the havoc the frigate had received from Exeter, but the carronades were especially devastating at such close range.

Bulldog’s petty officers harried the gun crews to hurry the reload, and most of the guns held a charge by the time the gunbrig rounded the frigate’s stern.

While savaging the enemy’s quarter with her broadside, one of her little six pound balls damaged the frigate’s sternpost and her rudder became jammed.

The frigate now being unable to steer, Exeter was able to take station across the bow of the frigate, pounding her with her guns, the shot again travelling the whole length of the ship. The Bulldog laid off the frigate’s quarter, smashing her after parts and preventing repair parties from mending the rudder.

Only the aftermost guns on the enemy’s port side could reach the brig and those guns were soon put out of action. The loads of grape from the carronades were especially effective in reducing the numbers of enemy crew upon the frigate’s deck. Soon the frigate’s bowsprit was shot away and then down came her fore topmast. When the whole foremast then fell, the action was nearly over.

Bulldog, still astern, began using grape and canister in all her guns and was now raining a storm of deadly death into the ship. After a final blast cleared the enemy quarterdeck, her flag came hesitantly down.

Phillips roared ‘Cease Fire” and after a couple of extra individual crashes, the carnage ended. He looked at Bulldog. Her mizzen was dangerously askew and blood was running from the scuppers. Exeter herself had men sprawled on the deck, dead or wounded and a twelve pound ball had dangerously weakened the foremast.

Much of the rigging had been damaged and the larboard shrouds for the mainmast had been badly damaged. He looked over the side; the launch which had been towing was still afloat. His cox’n was also still alive. Mister Braddock came up the hatchway with a bandaged arm, the remaining pieces of his shirt a mass of gore.

“Mister Ackroyd”, Phillips shouted to his signal officer. “Please take some seamen and the Marines and go over to the frigate and take possession. Take the boat crew aboard with you if necessary.” He sent Braddock below, again.

Hours of intense labor followed as the three ships were repaired enough to make them barely seaworthy. The crew of the frigate had been hurriedly run below, with boat guns aimed at the hatches. The foremast of the Exeter, as well as the mizzen of Bulldog had to be ‘fished’. Lengths of timber were lashed tightly to the masts and the bindings twisted taught. The standing rigging; stays and shrouds, had to be repaired or renewed.

The captured frigate needed to have a jury bowsprit and foremast rigged. The wounded crewmembers of Bulldog were suffering, as they had no doctor aboard. Midshipman Mullins found the captured prize, ‘Fleur d’Orleans’, had two surgeons mates aboard, in addition to her surgeon, so he ordered one of those mates to report aboard Bulldog, to see what he could do. With all the repairs they were able to perform with their men and materials, the little fleet set sail for Plymouth.

Closing the English coast, they fell in with a ’74 gun liner, also destined there. Her captain was so impressed with their feat that he loaned a hundred men, parceled among the three ships.

The “Fleur d’Orleans’ got the largest share since she had only a tiny prize crew aboard and a large number of enemy prisoners not at all happy about going into the hulks. Upon reaching port Phillips and Drummond were summoned immediately to the presence of the elated Vice Admiral Cosby.

That gentlemen, after first insisting upon a shot by shot commentary of the action, then ordered them into a post-chaise and sent them into London with a packet to take to the Admiralty. Cosby assured the captain’s promotions were probable for both Drummond and Phillips, if his recommendation carried any weight. Perhaps also for their first officers.

Reaching London, Phillips met with Admiral Howe, who praised his enterprise and initiative and was then sent to the waiting room to await orders. After an hour’s wait, an ancient lieutenant hobbled up to him on his wooden leg and handed him a packet.

The packet contained a commission appointing him to the command of “Vigorous’, a thirty two gunned frigate, now coming out of ordinary in Plymouth. With this commission, he was now a post captain, entitled to wear his swab on his right shoulder instead of the left.

Eventually, with the passage of time, he would be an admiral; should he live that long, of course.

He found he was authorized to take aboard the crew of Exeter, that ship being taken out of service for a much needed survey and repairs. He would be on his own however to fill out the remainder of his crew. He was pleased to find the first prize he had taken had been adjudicated and he now possessed a well filled purse.

It was true that most of the money he was handed was paper currency, which was taking the place of much of the specie throughout Britain but at least he could now afford cabin stores. With his new riches, he was concerned about highwaymen, so stopped by a gun maker and bought a pair of pistols.

He purchased an inside seat on the mail coach, but since the weather was fine and a female passenger inside seemed a twin of the one he had traveled to Portsmouth with weeks earlier, he elected to ride on top with the driver.

His sea chest was loaded up on the coach, but he needed to carry on his person the rifle the viscount had left for him to look after. A cursory search had failed to locate a relative he could delegate the weapon to.

The driver eyed his weapon and his heavy coat pockets. “Always glad to have a well-armed gentleman aboard sir, but you won’t have to use the guns this trip. With the hot press the navy has out, all the highwaymen are running for cover.”

Halfway to Portsmouth, Phillips realized he had better change to the insignia of a post captain rather than that a mere commander. He removed his coat and switched his epaulette from the left shoulder to the right. Now he was correct.