Thunder On the Sea: A Tim Phillips novel (War at Sea Book 11) (3 page)

Inspecting the three men to their front, two were found dead, while one was still alive after being struck by two blasts from shotguns. Badly wounded, it appeared that he was not long for this world.

Behind them, the man Phillips had wounded was alive and groaning in pain from a bullet in his side and a broken arm from the fall from his horse. He too would likely die sooner or later, since a wound from a large caliber weapon in that part of the body would invariably kill the man. Gangrene was almost a certainty in such a case, Phillips had learned that from visiting ship’s cockpits after a bloody battle. A badly damaged arm or leg could be removed, with a decent chance of saving the man’s life, but a shot in the trunk was usually fatal.

The men were standing there, cooling down, and examining their options. They had two dead bodies, two with deadly wounds, a woman and two infants. They should take the downed bandits to the nearest magistrate, but how was this to be done?

As they were mulling over the problem, they were startled by the sound of hooves on the hard-surfaced road. A band of horsemen had come up from behind the coach and surrounded them, a dozen men, in all. None carried anything more deadly than small swords and riding crops.

Few explanations were necessary. All were local landowners coming back from a party. They were well acquainted with the highwayman problem in this part of the country. When Phillips said they needed to get these people to a magistrate, but there just was not enough room in their coach, one elderly gentleman sniffed and said he was Sir Andrew Harkins, the magistrate for this locale, and the event could be said to be duly reported.

Two riders were dispatched to ride ahead to obtain a wagon from the next property and take the bodies, living and dead, into town. Apprised of the escape of one man on horseback, the magistrate announced every man with a horse was expected to meet next morning, in front of the livery to pursue the man. Dogs were also to be brought, if possible.

Phillips had his driver take the coach to the next village’s inn where they stayed overnight. There was only one bed, so they would have to share. The guard and driver were going to sleep in the stable, and if Phillips declined to do that, his only other recourse was to sleep in the coach. Mary made no objection when he inquired about the possibility of sharing the bed with her. She acted surprised, as if she thought sharing a bed was the most natural thing in the world.

In her shift, the young woman was appealing, but the two infants between them made a most formidable barrier and Phillips slept soundly that night.

Next morning, he was roused by the noise from the square. Those men intending to pursue the wanted bandit had gathered there and were making an infernal noise.. The magistrate had a huge hound that he was sure would take them to their man. A dozen other dogs were present, but Phillips was told privately that they were just there to lend their voice to the chase. The judge’s big hound would be the one to find the fellow. The judge offered him a good horse to ride, and Phillips accepted.

All of the men were armed, mostly with light fowling pieces. Considering the rifle to be too unwieldy to carry on horseback, he tucked the pistols in a sash he wound tightly about his middle and borrowed the blunderbuss of the driver. He would have liked to take the eight-bore gun of the hired guard, but that wish was refused. The guard and driver said they would sit here in the inn and sample the local ale.

Phillips rode quietly beside the judge out to the scene of the ambush. Magistrate Harkins told him he knew what mount the fellow was riding. “Fellow by the name of Fletcher owns her. He used to ride her every day whenever he had to go someplace. When she got a little old and stiff, he put her out as a brood mare and usually gets a good foal from her every year. She has a strange shape to one forefoot, and I’d know her track anywhere. I saw it last night, and recognized it right away. Last night, while you were asleep, I rode out to his place. He said she was taken a week ago. Thing is, she has not been on grain. Grass fed, and at her age, she won’t last long in a horse race.”

Once at the scene of the attempt on the coach, the judge asked Phillips to show him where the mounted man had sat his horse before fleeing. The magistrate ordered the men to remain at a distance, while he and Phillips located the tracks of the bandit’s mount. Opening a sack behind his saddle, he shook out the contents, a worn and faded saddle blanket. Calling his hound, the animal came loping over along with some of the other dogs that were running free.

The judge shook the blanket out at the dog’s feet and ordered “Find!’ The other dogs were slow to evince any interest, but the big hound took his time sniffing at the blanket, then began searching. Catching the faint scent of the horse on the ground, he began slowly to puzzle out the trail.

The judge explained, while waiting for the dog. “This blanket was used on the mare just before she was taken. It is full of the animal’s scent. The dog will attempt to follow the scent on the ground. As long as our fellow stays with the horse, we have a good chance of catching him.”

The dog, finally finding a strong scent on the ground, set out on a lope, occasionally circling to locate the lost trail. Once after the dog temporarily lost the scent, one of the riders found the hoof prints of the racing mare. After the tracks crossed a stream, the magistrate’s dog suddenly began running, with the rest of the pack baying behind,

The judge kept his men under control, not wanting any headlong pursuit. Stopping once to rest their mounts, the magistrate explained.

“We have better horses, and as long as we can stay on the trail, we are bound to catch him. The tracks we are following now are the ones he made last night, and you can see his animal is exhausted. He will have found a spot to hide last night, but now hears the dogs behind him. With no grain for his horse, he must know he will be caught if he cannot find a better one.”

As the men crested a rise, they saw ahead of them, another small hill, on the summit a grove of trees. The dogs were racing across the intervening valley baying at full cry. As they reached the trees, the dogs found their quarry, an old, tired mare. Some of the dogs would have savaged the animal but the magistrate’s hound knew this horse. In years past, the hound had accompanied this very mare on many a fox hunt, with the magistrate’s friends. A daring young hound leaped for the horse, but the big leader of the pack put himself in his path and took a chunk out of a big, floppy ear.

With the scene seeming tranquil now, several dogs began collecting at the base of a big, sprawling oak, yapping and barking. The big hound remained impervious to their excitement. He had been ordered to find the mare, and he had done so. Now it was time for a nap.

The judge was not so inclined. He had led these men on a man hunt, and a man was what he wished to find. Careful peering into the canopy revealed a person huddled in the top, where a branch came off from the main trunk. Phillips was asked over to the tree and tasked with identifying the person. He tried to abstain, since he had caught only the briefest glance at the horseman before he galloped off.

“Nevertheless, is there no distinctive clothing the man wore?”

Racking his brain, Phillips recalled the bandit had been wearing a dark cloak when he rode off. He could clearly remember the garment flapping in the wind. This fellow had no garment, but one of the magistrate’s friends spotted just such a robe caught in the branches, partway up the tree. The horseman rode over to the tree and by standing in his stirrups was able to reach the fabric and pull it loose. The man’s horse did not like this strange garment flapping around on his back and took off on a run.

As Phillips watched the rider handle his mount, with the cloak streaming behind, it brought him back to the scene at the coach. He assured the judge the robe seemed to be the one worn by the highwayman. This was enough information for the magistrate. He rode under the tree and shouted up into the branches.

“Time to come out of the tree, young man.”

The voice from the branches said, “You’ll just hang me.”

“Well, there is that, but if you don’t, we’ll shoot you.”

With no answer coming from the treetop, Sir Andrew held up a finely engraved light fowling piece and said. “Last chance, young man.’

The magistrate spent a few moments fussing with the lock of his piece, adding a pinch of powder to the pan. When the weapon finally discharged, there was a yelp of pain from up in the tree, then a body came tumbling out. For a moment, it seemed it might lodge across a pair of small branches, but these broke loose and the body fell head first to earth with a dull thud.

Phillips dismounted and went over to the body. It had taken a charge of small-shot in the upper body and had suffered a broken neck from the fall. Their suspect was now dead.

A heavy pistol was lying on the grass beside him. A closer inspection revealed it to be the type of weapon issued to heavy cavalry. It had recently been fired and Phillips could find no extra charges with which to re-load the gun.

The magistrate, when handed the pistol, assured the band that this was definitely their highwayman, and now they could enjoy a stirrup-cup before they returned to town to hang up the other two bandits.

The men enjoyed their drinks, and when they were finished, went back down the path a mile or so to a farmer’s pub, where arrangements were made to have the body retrieved and sent into town. While they were there, it was decided they might as well have another round of drinks in the pub, and it was a very jolly band of men who rode home that evening.

There was no need now for an inquest and a trial, because both of the wounded bandits had expired soon after the party had left that morning. Phillips checked on his horses and found them in good condition, so made plans to leave early the next morning.

It was just a short drive to his estate, but as they drove through the little village, Phillips became aware of a commotion. Villagers were dancing in the street, the church bell was peeling and some youths were attempting to build a bonfire. Bidding his driver to pull up, Phillips inquired as to the reason for the festivities.

A middle aged man in a craftsman’s smock told him the post had just brought word the war was over. Napoleon of France had abdicated and the world was now at peace. This, of course, was intriguing news. Phillips knew there would be dismay among many naval officers who might soon be losing their livelihoods. He himself, was not concerned. He had thousands in prize money invested safely and he knew the estate was capable of supporting itself.

The driver took the coach to the estate and all went inside. The staff was well aware of the news and Phillips soon learned it would be difficult to get anything done around the place that afternoon and evening.

He took his new employee around the building, showing her where everything was and getting her opinion on where to place the nursery. He introduced Mary to the other servants and reminded everyone that she was in charge of the infants and would make any necessary provisions for their care. He was beginning to learn Miss Ferguson was not quite the person he had thought when he had hired her.

He found that she had the rudiments of an education, at least what little most young women of that era were offered. She could read, write and do her sums. In addition, she had some knowledge of the Spanish language. She found herself in her present straits when her father died two years before. Her mother had passed when she had been a very small girl.

She had gone into service as her only means to earn a living when a young rascal had impregnated her after promising her the moon with a cherry on top.

Leaving matters in her hands, the exhausted Phillips decided to call it a day and go to bed. Little was done around the estate for the next week, while the retired ship captain got his bearings. But then he started meeting with locals getting different viewpoints and developing some of his own. Hearing from some of the local farmers that food prices were likely to remain high for the immediate future, in view of the turmoil likely to ensue when all of Napoleon’s troops were dismissed and sent home, he decided to invest in a herd of red cattle that was offered to him.

As the demands of paperwork took up more of his time, he found that Mary Ferguson could be of great assistance. When he found she could actually make sense of some of the multitudinous bills that arrived weekly, he sent her to see a friend of his nearby. Charlotte Norris was an old friend of his family who was an astute (and wealthy) businesswoman.

While there were men who attempted to take advantage of a perceived ignorant and helpless woman, few tried it a second time. Norris could buy or sell almost any of the fools that thought they might take advantage of her. Mary Ferguson remained with Charlotte for a week, where she was able to quickly pick up much of what she needed to know to run an estate. As a personal favor to Captain Phillips, whom Norris had known since he was a small boy, Mary was encouraged to bring any of her more difficult problems for her to scrutinize.

For months, Phillips watched closely over the workings of his estate, but soon the duty began to pall. By now his child’s nurse had taken over the day-to-day operation of the property and had it operating like clockwork. There was now very little for him to do about the place. It was then, the post arrived, delivering a summons to appear at the Admiralty in London. The hired coach that had brought him back had long since been returned to its livery, but he had ordered his own carriage brought down from the London townhouse earlier.

This carriage had been maintained well and was in remarkably good condition. With his own coachman upon the box, they set out for London early the next morning. Phillips was not concerned about the summons. He thought perhaps an inspection of one of his former ship’s paperwork had revealed a shortage or perhaps even an overage of Crown property. He was well prepared to offer necessary payment to recoup any expenses.

It was very late that night when the carriage clattered into London, and Phillips slept late next morning in his townhouse.

As a result, he did not walk into the Admiralty waiting room until late in the day. The place was not nearly as busy as it had been during most of the war and he was called in to one of the Lords’ offices early on.

As it happened, there were no misdeeds of his that must be explained. A post ship was being prepared for a voyage of exploration into waters west of Chile and South America. Phillips was to be given first refusal of its captaincy. Phillips had to think about the offer a bit. The war with America was still continuing, although he had heard progress was being made in the peace talks. At any rate, he had no desire to become involved in the war with the United States.

The Admiralty official assured him this was to be a voyage of discovery that had been instigated by the scientific community. He would find no references in his orders that required him to engage in any military or naval action, and in any case, he would be operating well away from the continental United States.

Accordingly, Phillips accepted the assignment. The command of a post ship would not ordinarily be counted a plum to an officer of his experience, but there were few plums being passed about these days with the war now over. At the very least, he could remove himself from the estate and busy himself with a task he knew something about. Accepting the new orders, he went outside where he found his coachman waiting to take him back to the townhouse. There, he spent the evening penning letters and instructions to the various people he must explain his absence to.

He had to be careful writing the letter to Mary. She had become a valuable employee to him and he had no wish to invoke her ire with a poorly chosen choice of words. In the end, he merely told her he had been called back to duty and would be away from England for a time. He explained sufficient funds would be in an account at his bank for her to operate the estate, and apologized at the abrupt manner of his departure.

Now, it was time to devote himself to the King’s business. He had to glance at his orders to remind himself of his ship’s name. HMS Prince Rupert it was, a former French corvette, captured in the last war. Her original owners had given her a name it was felt would be unseemly under British colors, so she was given one from a ship long since gone to the breaker’s yard. A 24 gun, nine pounder ship, now based in Portsmouth, which meant he must post there if he did not want to subject his own coach to the stresses of the trip.

His business in London complete, he boarded the coach and off they went. Stopping only to change horses and refresh themselves, they rattled into Portsmouth early the next afternoon. Exhausted from the trip, Phillips nevertheless thought it advisable to call on the port admiral. As it happened, the gentleman was not available, so Phillips was closeted with the flag captain.

Captain Horner explained the mission. In addition to the scientific expedition, it was desired the ship should call on the various Spanish ports on both coasts of South America, ostensibly to show the flag, actually to examine the feelings of the populace concerning independence from Spain.

During much of the recent war, the Spanish colonies had been left more or less on their own, with their parent country fully engaged in its own struggles. Now, with Spain attempting to re-exert its authority over the region, many local leaders were expressing their resentment.

While that country had been allied with Britain during the last portion of the war against Napoleon, at the present, Spain was today exhibiting an alarming notion to exclude other nations from trading with her colonies. There was sentiment in Parliament in some corners that a discreet offer of assistance to certain revolutionary activists might be in order.

Captain Phillips was to gather such intelligence as he could and relay it to the Admiralty. Needless to say, it was imperative that no hint of his actions come to the notice of the local Spanish officials. Should any dissidents attempt to secure refuge aboard the ship, local authorities should be notified. In no way was the mission to attract unfavorable attention from Royal Spanish authority.

Phillips learned his ship was already taking on stores for the voyage. At the present, Mister Hiram Cooper, the ship’s master was in command, none of the other officers having yet made an appearance.

At that news, Phillips decided it would be prudent to make an appearance as soon as possible. There was a signal tower near the water’s edge where signals could be sent to the various ships. Ordinarily, a signal from the tower requesting a ship’s boat would be acted upon promptly by the designated ship.

Deciding to make his visit a surprise, he ignored the tower and engaged a shore boat to deliver him to Rupert.

The post ship had a proper anchor watch set and the approaching boat was challenged early on. There was a flurry of activity aboard ship when it was learned their new lord and master was about to come aboard.

Mister Cooper met him at the entry port. Phillips was satisfied with the man’s appearance and demeanor. He seemed rather young for his job, but Phillips knew that he himself was considered by many as very young for his own position.

After the requisite ceremonial greeting, Mister Cooper invited his captain to look over the ship. This occupied much of the afternoon and Phillips was tired when he at last looked inside his own quarters for the first time. The retiring life of a country gentleman was not conducive to clambering for hours around a King’s ship, above and below decks.

He was surprised when he entered his cabin and noticed the state of his quarters. Knowing the ship had just been put back into commission, he had expected to find just bare, unfinished cabin. Instead, he had a bed, a desk, some storage cabinets and a sail cloth carpet.

A thin little man made his appearance just then. “Sir”, he began. “My name is Ben Jacobs. I was Captain Warner’s servant on his last voyage. We paid off a year ago, and I was wondering if you could use my services.”

Phillips wondered at the effrontery of Jacobs just walking into the captain’s cabin without any form of announcement. However, trained captain’s stewards were rather thin on the ground, and it might be worthwhile to try this one out. Phillips told the prospective steward they would do this on a trial basis. Should it all work out, he would ask the first officer to enter Jacob’s name in the ship’s books.

As a test, Phillips counted out some coins from his purse and handed them to Jacobs. Addressing the prospective steward, he ordered him to report to the Master and request the use of a ship’s boat.

Jacobs should go ashore and purchase whatever supplies were needed for the captain’s personal stores. It would be desirable if the boat could return to the ship without losing any man to desertion.

Actually, it would be strange if any man deserted in this present time of peace. With so many warships lying in ordinary, there was a surplus of seamen. In these days of peace, King’s ships were not normally sent to sea for years at a time, as was the custom during the previous war. Most seamen, so long as they had a fairly humane captain, were happy to have a berth, and usually ignored any chance to desert.

The ship already had nearly a complete crew. As soon as seamen on the beach learned of this post ship fitting out, they had come aboard in droves and volunteered. The major problem now was officers, he had none. The port admiral’s flag captain had informed him a request had been telegraphed to London and it was expected the new lieutenants would shortly post down.

There were already hopeful midshipmen by the dozen making their way out to the ship requesting a berth. Busy with the mounds of paperwork, Phillips left the task of selecting midshipmen in the hands of the sailing master. This worthy knew well the necessity of only choosing those lads who had successfully completed at least one commission, preferably more.

It could have proved to be advantageous had the captain taken a more active role in choosing his mids. Many of them had families of high social status, and a prominent family might be expected to further a captain’s career in exchange for taking a surplus boy off their hands.

Captain Tim Phillips however, felt no need to seek favors. He was already at the pinnacle of his profession, a property owner with plenty of funds invested. He could afford to allow others to search for whatever favors were needed. 

The captain was in his cabin, nearly hidden behind piles of statements of condition, and other interesting literature, when he heard the master’s mate of the watch challenge an approaching boat.

The answer to the challenge was a vocal ‘Aye aye’, indicating at least one officer was aboard the approaching boat. This was enough to propel Captain Phillips from his cabin. He desperately needed officers to take the load from his own shoulders. Looking overside from his post on the quarterdeck, he saw a group of officers in the stern of an approaching barge. As they mounted the battens to the entry port, he saw he had two naval lieutenants as well as one from the Royal Marines.

He greeted each officer individually, making note of their names. The senior of the two lieutenants, Mister Fitzhugh, he immediately pronounced to be his first officer, and charged him to take up his duties immediately. Addressing the Marine officer he asked, “When do you expect your men?”

Lieutenant Haynes had no idea. He had received his orders by post at his parent’s home and had taken coach immediately to the ship. He expected the ship‘s complement of Marines would soon be sent from their barracks.

When the prospective captain’s servant, Jacobs, returned from his shopping expedition, he brought with him a boatload of such supplies that the commander of a ship might find necessary on a long voyage. He had a list of everything he had purchased and the amount he had paid for each item. Phillips, satisfied with his performance, passed the word for Mister Fitzhugh and had Jacob’s name entered on the books as ‘Captain’s Servant’.

The crew was occupied for the next week with taking on stores. Phillips and his officers had to be alert for any provisions of poor quality. It was not unknown for unscrupulous merchants to offer ancient or even spoiled provisions as if they were new stores. Knowing as he did the ship would soon be at sea, far from land, it could well be a disaster should any of these provisions become rotten while at sea.

The last major task before putting to sea, was the loading of their powder. The ship was required to make her way to a part of the harbor where an accidental explosion would not lay waste to the whole complex, then the powder hoys came out and the potentially deadly transfer was made. .

With the ship now ready in all aspects to sail, Phillips requested permission to depart. Surprisingly, this permission was not forthcoming. The reply was simply ‘Wait’.

The ship swung at anchor another day, then the flag hung out the signal for ‘All Captains’. Moments later, every ship in harbor had a boat in the water, delivering its captain to the flagship. Phillips was piped aboard the hulked old three-decker right after a young commander from a sloop of war made his way through the entry port.

The port admiral was still not present. Rumor had him still in London discussing important matters at the Admiralty. Captain Horner presided over the gathering and told them what he knew.

It seemed Napoleon had escaped from Elba and was reported to be at sea, presumably searching for a port on the mainland that would give him refuge.

After his abdication as Emperor of France, he had been exiled to Elba near the Italian peninsula where he was to spend the remainder of his days. Allowed a small force of men, he was allowed to take control of the island as his own principality. Now, fragmentary reports which had just reached London, suggested he had boarded a vessel with some of his men and escaped from Elba.

Captain Horner quieted the tumult that erupted with the news.”

“All this is likely just a rumor, with no basis in fact. Even if he has, if fact escaped, I fail to see how this can have important consequences for Britain. We know very well the French people do not want him. If he does go ashore in France, we can be sure the forces of King Louis XVIII will soon bring him to heel. At any rate, I am told to get every ship to sea to nab this culprit.”

“All King’s ships prepared to sail are ordered to make their way without delay to Gibraltar, where they shall report to the senior officer present. Probably, it will be found at that time Mister Bonaparte is now in irons and no longer a fugitive. Should that not be the case, each and every captain will do his best to bring the fellow into the bag.”