Thunder On the Sea: A Tim Phillips novel (War at Sea Book 11) (8 page)

As expected, the purchase request was accepted and Captain Phillips took legal possession of the vessel a month later. Windlasses and cables pulled her out of the mud and she was towed to the nearby boatyard. The yard spent the rest of the winter refurbishing the hull and setting up her masts and rigging.

During this time, the standing officers along with Mister Fitzhugh supervised the work. Towards spring though, it was necessary to sign on a proper crew.

Handbills had been printed and posted in prominent locations around the county. Others were displayed up river as far as London. These bills all specified only those able bodied seaman with recent experience aboard his Majesty's warships would be considered.

Some thought had been given to incorporating a body of marines among the crew. Of course, traditional Royal Marines with their distinctive uniforms would be a dead give-away to their actual identity in foreign waters, but it was decided it would not be inappropriate to sign on a body of men who in a former life had been Marines or Army foot soldiers.

To avoid confusing these men with Royal Marines, Phillips contracted with some of the village women to sew up some uniform coats. His outfitter was able to find some bolts of light woolen fabric. Phillips thought the lighter material might be better suited to the tropics than the standard heavy woolen cloth the Royal Marines wore.

He had not concerned himself as to the color of the material, just so long as it was not red. When the son of one of the seamstresses appeared before him modelling the coat, Phillips was surprised to see it was a dark green. Refurbished muskets and accoutrements were furnished and soon, as recruited seamen began coming downriver to join, so did a few men who claimed to be Army or Marine veterans of the last war.

One face appeared that Phillips knew well was genuine. Sergeant Henderson, from the last voyage of HMS Prince Rupert. He had not thought of the man since the last ship had paid off and he was not all that sure he wanted to think of the man now. For much of the past commission Henderson had been a useless drunk. While it was true the Sergeant had stopped drinking the final few weeks, it had been Phillips’ experience that few drunks could stay away from their elixir for much more than that time.

He did have a problem, however. While there was no difficulty selecting good seamen, marines were a different story. Most of the candidates that had come forward thus far were disbanded soldiers. While he was willing to take aboard a certain number of these, he did need a nucleus of professional marines to teach them what they must know of seagoing soldiery.

He had a few old Royal Marines, but they were much like the old Sergeant Henderson. Capable enough on duty, but often helpless drunks when off, and completely unable to think for themselves at any time.

With reluctance, Phillips called Henderson forward and explained the cover story the crew was being told. He himself was buying the ship to sail her as a yacht to tropical waters off Spanish America. Since pirates were plentiful in those parts, it was deemed prudent to have trained men at arms about the ship. Was Henderson willing to sail aboard Mastiff as a private soldier?

Henderson was. Since being released by the Royal Marines, he had been eating none too regularly and needed a permanent position. When asked about his drinking, Henderson claimed he had not touched a drop since that day in the old “Prince Rupert”.

Phillips was not too sure about that statement but decided to take the man at his word. He explained, while Henderson was being signed on as a private, before sailing, a sergeant would be selected. Who that might be was not determined yet, but Henderson would be kept in mind for the position providing his behavior was satisfactory.

By now, the brig had been pulled out to the anchorage where her rigging was set up and provisions and gear were being brought aboard. Only the standing officers were living on board ship at this time. Phillips had arranged the hire of two barns to house the seamen and marines who had signed on.

The worst of the winter was over and the plan was to sail in the early spring. There had been a bureaucratic delay in getting powder, ball and gunner’s stores released to them, without raising a hue and cry that might alert the press to the semi-official status of the expedition. Finally, it seemed that difficulty was behind them when it was learned that a Baron Beauvoir would arrive soon to wish them Godspeed.

A private communication from Lord Melville suggested this was a
nom de plume
of the court official Phillips had met earlier. It was thought the official would make a brief appearance to insure the secrecy of the .project was being maintained, then would leave. Mellville’s note indicated the official would travel by water in a little, decked-over cutter.

Phillips went to some expense to insure the local inn was properly prepared to meet an
in cognito
representative of the Court. Hours before the appointed time, inhabitants from miles around began showing up at the inn in their best attire. Some of these people had even been invited to the festivity.

In due course, the little cutter tied up at the public pier, where the official was greeted by Captain Phillips and a guard of green clad marines. Private Henderson had had to be swiftly promoted to Sergeant since he appeared to be the only person available who could train his troops for the ceremony in the limited time available. The Baron pulled Phillips aside and asked him about the brig's readiness to sail. Phillips assured the official they just needed powder and shot. As soon as these articles were delivered they would be able to depart on the next tide.

The Baron confessed that he had understood Phillips to be married. When the expedition was planned, the thought had been his wife could accompany them. This would have assured any suspicious Spanish officials of the innocence of this expedition.

Phillips told the Baron that he had indeed been married, but his wife had died shortly after the birth of their son. He was now a widower.

The Baron expressed his sympathy and said it was of little matter, he was sure Phillips would come through in the manner expected.

The festivities did not last long at the inn. The Baron went in, greeted a few people, had a glass of wine, and then departed. His cutter un-moored but an hour after it had arrived. The Baron’s vessel was seen to pass close to Mastiff as if to give him a good view of the craft, but he did not stop. In minutes, the cutter had rounded a bend in the river and was out of sight.

The party at the inn was now coming alive. An impromptu band had set up in the corner of what was humorously called ‘The Grand Ballroom’, and was providing the music for some country dances. The citizenry was busily engaged in downing as much of Phillips’ liquor as they could before the tap was turned off.

It was then that a slight lad twisted by the pair of marines guarding the door and ran to meet Phillips. Thomas was known to many as an un-official helper to Gunner Laster. The Gunner was an elderly man, a bit stiff sometimes, who needed a little help on cold mornings. Laster was often inclined to fish from a little skiff, usually bringing back his mates’ breakfast. Thomas Hardesty blurted out a confused story of pirates aboard the Mastiff. Some questioning elicited the information that a large fishing boat had run aboard Mastiff soon after the Baron had left. A dozen men had swarmed aboard and secured the standing officers. Hardesty and the Gunner had witnessed this while fishing nearby.

Hardesty had rowed ashore and had set out running to give the warning. Captain Fitzhugh had approached and heard the end of the conversation. Phillips told him to arm himself and inform Sergeant Henderson his marines would likely be needed momentarily.

As news of the attack circulated among the people, many began to drift away. Henderson came over, with a big former soldier he was using as his corporal. Phillips quickly ordered the marines to be formed up ready for action. He would meet them at the door in five minutes. Sending Thomas running up the stairs to fetch his weapons, Phillips looked around the people remaining in the ballroom to see if there was someone he could use.

Finding no one he wished by his side in a brawl, he started for the door. Thomas caught him before he exited, a pistol in each hand and a sword under his arm. Luckily each pistol was charged, as the lad had not thought to bring any extra loads. Taking a second to secure the sword, he set out after the marines who were marching at the quick step ahead of him. From the shore, they could see the men on board the Mastiff pillaging the vessel. So far, the vandals on the brig had not noticed the activity on shore. It was a dark night and the men all wore dark clothing. The marines were practically invisible in their green coats. A launch was pulled up on the shore and a party of marines hauled it into the water. There were no seamen handy to row, but a few of Phillip’s marines had been in the Royal Marines in the war and could man the oars.

Phillips directed the cox’n to pull around to the side of the fishing boat the pirates had used to board the Mastiff. The freeboard of that boat was closer to the water, and Phillips thought his marines might find it easier to board. As they approached, the pirates on the Mastiff saw the launch coming and began to scramble back aboard their boat.

Before they could cast off, the launch slammed up against the fishing boat, and the marines began boarding.

The pirates were armed and attempted to defend themselves but the marines with their big Brown Bess muskets foiled their efforts. Whether former Royal Marine or Army foot soldier, the men were well trained in the use of their weapons. The iron-shod butt of a heavy musket against a man’s head was enough to put a pirate down, often permanently. One hairy man attacked Phillips with a cutlass. Phillips parried the attempt with his own sword.  Not trusting the slim dress sword blade against the sturdy cutlass his opponent was using, he pressed the muzzle of his pistol against the pirate’s side and pressed the trigger. Phillips dropped the pistol to the deck as the pirate fell and pulled out the other pistol. There were no more opponents. Within just a few minutes, all of the pirates were stretched out on the deck, most of them badly injured.

After the prisoners were secured, Phillips and Fitzhugh made a search of the brig to see what damage had been caused.

Surprisingly, the damage was minimal. Several casks of powder from the gunner's stores had been hoisted from the magazine. Apparently the pirates had misjudged since most of the powder had not been delivered yet. The lighters were scheduled to arrive that very night.

Phillips called Sgt. Henderson over and congratulated him on the professionalism of his people. He had not expected them to do this well, since they had had little chance for training. Henderson reminded him that many of his people had been redcoats for years before being disbanded. He was sure his new marines would prove their worth in days to come.

The pirates were loaded into the launch and ferried ashore where they would be afforded the tender ministrations of the local magistrate. That worthy begged the loan of the ship's carpenter. It seemed, while he had a scaffold ready for use, it could only dispatch one prisoner at a time. He had eight prisoners to process and he thought it would take an inordinate period of time to hang them one by one with the existing apparatus.

The magistrate hoped the ship's carpenter could assist the village in building a new scaffold, one perhaps capable of processing several customers at the same time. However, when the lighters delivering their powder were seen coming downstream, Phillips had to beg off. The crew would have to work much of the evening getting it stowed, then they would sail in the morning. The magistrate’s new customers would just have to wait their turn.

The ship's crew was ordered aboard and set to immediately putting everything in order. By the end of the day, there was no sign of the outrage.

Charlotte Norris and Mary Ferguson coached down to see them off. Phillips had them both out to the brig to show it to them. The women set both babies down on the settee in his quarters. Norris exclaimed his quarters were larger than many a household. “You could almost raise a family here”, she said.”

Phillips’ servant served them wine and cheese and the discussion revolved around what foreign lands Mastiff would touch at. As they discussed the sights to be seen in the southern latitudes, some of which Phillips had visited before, Mary seemed rather sad.

“I suppose it is foolish for a woman, especially one with a child, to wish to travel about the world. Sometimes I wish I were a man”, she said.

Phillips accompanied the women ashore and followed them back to the inn.

Diplomatically, Charlotte went upstairs to get something, leaving Mary alone with Phillips.

Unbidden, words came to his mouth. “Mary, I am forbidden to explain just what our expedition is all about, but I have been told it would be better if I had a woman to travel with me who might be perceived as my wife. I apologize for bringing this up with you since I know it could be taken the wrong way. However, if you and your child wish to accompany me on this voyage, it could certainly be arranged.”

“But what about the estate Captain Phillips? Who would see to it?”

Glancing up the staircase, Phillips saw Charlotte descending. To Mary Ferguson he said, “Why do we not ask Charlotte? I am sure she knows someone I can hire to run the estate in my absence.”

In a matter of seconds, the mood had changed from sadness to joy. As Charlotte joined them Mary exclaimed, "Charlotte, Captain Phillips has asked me to accompany him on his voyage. Do you know anyone that could handle the estate in our absence?"

Norris assured them not to worry, she knew just the man. She herself would look over his shoulder until she was sure he knew just what he was doing.

With matters now settled, there was some dismay when the women realized the ship was leaving next morning. Both women assured Phillips it was absolutely not possible for a woman to just leave on a moment’s notice on a trip of this magnitude. Clothing and accessories must be purchased and chests packed.

Nevertheless, Phillips ordained. “I have assured the people who arranged this expedition that we could leave as soon as our powder comes aboard. I noticed a few minutes ago the lighters were coming in sight. We will load tonight and leave in the morning. The ship sails on the tide tomorrow morning and those who wish to travel on it will be aboard. Any missing items of clothing or other gear we may purchase at port calls on our journey.”

One item it was felt necessary to locate was a source of milk for the babies. A cow would be ridiculous for a small brig but an appeal to the publican in the inn produced a village woman, who appeared leading a small doe goat on a string. The woman carried a tiny kid in her arms. She assured Phillips the doe produced plenty of milk that would be ideal for supplementing the diet of the infants.

A pair of seamen were given some shillings and told to fetch back as much cured hay as the money would buy. The carpenter was set to work erecting a small stable on the foredeck.

Once out in the Channel, Mastiff caught a good slant of wind that took her right out into the Atlantic. With the world at peace now, there were numerous ships of all seafaring nations bound for who knows where. Neither Mary nor the babies had any trouble with sickness, although several of the marines were incapacitated for a few days. Former soldiers, they had had little previous experience with sea crossings. Mary was insistent that she nurse the afflicted men but Phillips assured her presence below decks would be an embarrassment to the crew.

He told her that Sergeant Henderson would see to the men well enough. That very afternoon, Henderson had his men on deck, some of them barely able to stand, practicing the manual of arms and then bayonet drill.

The seamen laughed at the marine’s labors, but their own bosun’s mates soon had them aloft, practicing sail drill. There being no overwhelming rush to reach their destination, they touched at the Canary Islands, where all, seamen, marines and passengers, were given a chance to go ashore. With Mary and the infants aboard, additional cabin stores were required and Captain Phillips spent a day with his passengers shopping for supplies.

Sergeant Henderson worked himself into a state when two of his marines decided they had had enough of this seafaring life and declined to board the ship when their liberty was at an end. He took the half dozen former Royal Marines he had and went looking for the men. They were found, beaten, robbed and unconscious outside a waterfront tavern. 

After the bloody men had been  brought back aboard ship, Phillips ordered them taken below to the orlop deck and placed in irons. Had the brig still been accounted a Royal Navy ship, he could have had the offender’s backs lashed bloody. With the fiction of their being a purely civilian ship though, Phillips decided a few days in irons would suffice.

Once leaving the islands, he began training his crews in earnest. Now leaving European waters, they had to be aware of former privateers who had not returned to port at war’s end. During wartime, privateers were given license to prey on the shipping of their country’s enemies. Now, in the peace, some privateers, often sailing from isolated bases in the New World, found it profitable to turn pirate and continue their predations upon seafaring traffic of all nations.

Mastiff had guns aboard. A pair of six-pounders for bow chasers and fourteen 32-pounder carronades on each beam with another pair of long guns as stern chasers. The long guns were the only guns visible on deck, with the carronades all struck below into the hold. It had not been deemed politic to have public notice taken of the massive armament available on board. Her broadside gun ports had been caulked over and painted, so that it would have taken a very close inspection to determine she had once been a King’s ship.

Now though, the situation was altered. Sailing farther west every day, in her guise as a peaceful yacht commanded by a wealthy wastrel, she appeared to be a profitable target to one of the swarming pirates. It was time to be prepared.

Hatches were opened and lines running through blocks on the fore and main yards were dropped down into the hold. One by one, the stowed carronades were pulled up with the windlass and dropped on their respective slides on deck. Gunners’ mates, with their heavy mauls, went to each gun port and freed it.

By evening, all guns were mounted and their tackle ready. Most crew members had had more or less training with the guns from their days in the Royal Navy, but there were fewer men than had generally been the custom in the service. The ship’s marines would have to assist. There was time for a few discharges before dark, and those men who had never experienced the discharge of a big gun learned something.

Mary took the babies below when the guns were to fire. Every day, the brig left a trail of smoke behind her as she thundered away. Eventually, Phillips was satisfied, and firing practice was reduced to two days a week. With the brig closing the French Windward Islands, lookouts were doubled to spot anything suspicious. Of course, the administration on these islands was at peace with Britain, but it was not beyond possibility that a pirate or two might be based on one of the more remote islands.

It was on a fine morning when the first alarm was noted. The lookout on the maintop was the first to spot them, followed a moment later by the man on the foretop. Mister Hasting, their first officer seconding Captain Fitzhugh, was up the rigging like a monkey, to see for himself. After carefully looking around with his glass, he took hold of a backstay and sliding to the deck, he ran aft and reported to Fitzhugh and Phillips standing by the helm.

“Sir, two luggers standing out to meet us. They look like fishing craft, but they both have a bone in their teeth and why would a pair of fishermen be so anxious to meet a peaceful brig?”

Fitzhugh ordered the brig cleared for action. The guns were loaded and manned, but the gun crews were ordered to lay on deck behind their weapons, and the ports were to remain closed. The ship’s marines were also ordered to stay hidden until it was determined they would be needed.

Mary took the babies below, accompanied by Phillips old servant and the goat and her kid. At action stations, no lights were allowed so Mary found herself in a tiny compartment below the water line in pitch blackness.

As the luggers neared, they separated and came up on either side of Mastiff. Swarms of men were to be seen at the luggers’ sides. Phillips, realizing that he was a passenger here and Fitzhugh was commanding the brig, wondered how they were loaded. Fitzhugh reported all guns were loaded with ball. He felt a quick way to get the pirates attention was to give them a broadside of those thirty-two pound iron balls travelling at over 800 feet in a second. The reload for the discharged guns would be grapeshot to help thin out the swarms of boarders aboard the pirates.

Eying the closest lugger, Phillips could see only a pair of guns aboard. These were mounted midships between the fore and main masts, on each beam. The guns appeared to be old French eight-pounders. These guns could be deadly if loaded with the proper ammunition.

Turning to the brig’s captain, he advised, “Captain Fitzhugh, I will be grateful if you do not allow those fellows to fire into us at close range.”

“Do you wish me to fire a warning shot, sir? I was afraid that would make them sheer off.”

“Fire away, Captain Fitzhugh. If they reply, give them a broadside, and reload with grape.” The lugger to starboard edged closer, spilling her wind to avoid closing too rapidly. Fitzhugh ordered the brig to come to starboard a few points, which allowed the starboard six-pounder to bear on the pirate. As alarmed shouts came from the lugger, the gun roared and slammed back until stopped by its breaching cables, pitching the shot just ahead of the lugger’s bow.

Phillips rather expected the lugger to get the message and to sheer off. She did not. Instead, a fellow with a ridiculously large hat got behind his gun and began directing men with crows to shift the gun from one side to another.

Wasting no more time, Fitzhugh ordered the ports opened and the guns to fire. As the big guns exploded, the marines leaped to their feet and began firing their muskets. Those heavy iron balls, belched from the muzzles of the carronades and striking the lightly constructed lugger, dis-assembled the boat. One moment it was there, and the next, it was in bits and pieces on the waves.

Now the lugger to port made its move to escape. Fitzhugh had no gunners manning the guns of that side. All of his men were on the starboard guns. No matter, it was only a few steps across the deck. In seconds, the crews were at the portside guns. In a few more seconds, these guns fired also. There was not the instant destruction of the previous discharge this time. This lugger was farther away and not all shots fired hit. Enough did hit to smash the pirate’s port beam. The little lugger could not live with such a savage wound and immediately began to fill and sink.

Few crew members of either boat stayed on the surface long. Those who did manage to remain afloat were soon joined by sharks that had been pacing the ships. The sharks began making their slashing attacks against the struggling survivors and then they were gone.

Phillips’ steward Jacobs, emerged from a hatch with a screaming child in his arms. Mary came behind with the other infant. Jacobs appeared incongruous holding a child while wearing a cutlass at his side and a pair of Navy Sea Service pistols in his sash, ‘Just in case!’ The goat clambered unassisted up the ladder and made her way to the site of her stable, now taken apart and stowed away.

Mary appeared white-faced and terrified after her confinement in a pitch black compartment with her only companions, an ancient, feeble servant, two infants and a goat. After gaining the sunlight however, she made not a word of complaint, but took charge of both children and began the attempt to soothe them.

The great cabin had been knocked down when the brig cleared for action, but the crew soon had everything put back together again. One item was missing.  A temporary partition had divided Phillip’s sleeping compartment. Mary had used one of the small compartments while Phillips used the other. Mary had a hanging bed the carpenter had constructed for her, but now it was in the plain sight of all with business inside the owner’s quarters.

Mary and the babies had had a difficult morning and paid the matter no mind. She stretched out with a child in each arm and soon both babies were quiet and sleeping.

The carpenter took this moment to come in with his crew, and with exaggerated care, began erecting the misplaced partition.

Mastiff continued on her way toward Spanish waters. As the brig neared the Spanish island of Cuba, a lone sail was spotted ahead. It appeared to be a cutter, which the brig’s sailing master thought might be a Spanish Guarda Costa. Mastiff approached cautiously, coming to the wind outside gunshot range. It would mean a long pull for the oarsmen in the boat but no one could say they were trying to surprise the vessel.

The Spanish cutter was not quite so shy. She approached within a cables length of Mastiff, then came to herself. An officer in ornate uniform climbed down into his boat, which was crewed by a dozen ragged individuals.