HMS Athena: A Charles Mullins novel (Sea Command Book 4) (17 page)

Unable to stop to take possession, Jemmapes continued on, under full press of sail toward the privateer brig, which had apparently just decided to join the festivities. The captain of that brig probably thought he could take a ship in the starboard column before the third-rate arrived. He was wrong.

Jemmapes came about so as to have the oncoming brig on her beam and fired at long range. Most of the shot missed, grouping closely about the brig in the waves. Enough impacted the hull though, to cause severe damage.

With several large shot holes close to the waterline, as well as a gun knocked from its carriage on the gun deck, the brig’s master thought better of this attempt and wore around to get back out to sea.

With the tables turned on the privateer’s men, the last schooner capable of sailing made her escape. Mullins sent Asp after the merchant taken in the beginning of the action. Her captor had fallen behind and was struggling to get back to her prize. Asp beat her and was waiting when she neared. The schooner was probably better armed than Asp, with more men aboard. However, there was a ship-of-the-line close by that knew how to use its guns.

The privateer captain had to consider that he was unlikely to get the prize clear, so he decided to cut his losses by abandoning the men aboard the merchant. They were all boarders, easily replaced at little cost on any friendly waterfront.

Asp was the workhorse now. While Jemmapes stood by the convoy, Asp rescued the sugar-carrying brig, taken early in the action. She had a deck full of enemy boarders, but when they saw their mother ship sailing off, they decided to give up the fight.

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Lieutenant Houser, commanding Asp, had had a busy day and was in no mood to deal with recalcitrant ship masters. After securing the captured merchant, he was faced with fifty dangerous prisoners, those men from the now-fleeing privateer. Some, he put in the hold of his cutter, more went into the merchant, while the rest were put into the cutter’s boats as well as those of the merchant and were now being towed behind.

While busy with these affairs, he was constantly having to deal with the master of the merchant, newly freed from his captivity. Captain Jamison was free with his advice, not above telling this young officer how things were done in the merchant service. He was especially disdainful of using his ships’ boats to store the prisoners. He knew very well one of the ships in the convoy, a former slaver, had a supply of fetters aboard.

Jamison thought it would be better to borrow the fetters and put every boarder in irons, secured on deck. Upon being chastised by the cutter’s captain for offering such constant advice, Jamison turned upon Captain Houser and upbraided him before his men.

This was the last straw for Houser. Now suffering from a bad headache, he ordered the cutter’s bosun’s mate to lock the man in his cabin, after removing his personal gear. When the crew of the merchant objected to their captain’s treatment, he ‘pressed every man into the navy, replacing them with some of his own men. Those former merchant sailors were now in the Royal Navy and subject to its discipline.

By this time, Mullins had run down and removed all of the crewmen and boarders from the enemy brig. The last ship to be freed from its captors was the barkentine laden with tropical hardwoods. The convoy now had an embarrassment of captives. Luckily, they were rather close to home, and a week later saw the convoy enter Portsmouth harbor.

The next week saw the prize captain of Jemmapes busy. Not only had he been the convoy’s escort commander, but had assisted in the capture of a French seventy-four, a feat which brought a great deal of acclaim in wartime Britain.

Attention had to be given to Captain Jamison, master of the brig that had made herself a candidate for capture when she abandoned the convoy. Jamison had not taken his confinement after the action lightly and had filed charges against Captains Houser and Mullins.

The shipping company that was Captain Jamison’s employer had not seen the matter in the same light and discharged the captain from its employ. Charges were dropped soon after.

Jemmapes went into the dockyard as soon as there was a vacancy. Although her former French owners had neglected her maintenance, she was still in fair condition, and the dockyard could repair any deficiencies.

His officers were put on half-pay and went about their business, some of them already searching for a ship. Captain Mullins had to stand trial for the loss of HMS Athena, which caused him a great deal of anxiety. Thankfully, some of his officers on Jemmapes had been seconded from Argonaut and therefore, having not been involved with Athena’s loss, were able to testify in his favor.

Additionally, full reports had been forwarded by Argonaut’ captain involving Athena’s role in the action, and Mullins was duly exonerated.

As soon as the news reached her, Doris posted down from London with her son and the two had a most satisfying reunion. The question hanging over their heads was when Mullins might have to go back to sea again. He had a fleeting hope he might have Jemmapes, but well knew there were many other post captains with more right to her than he did.

At length, with all business either completed or put into someone else’s hands, he made one last visit to Jemmapes in the dockyard and set out with his wife and son in a hired carriage to London.

Because of an earlier incident involving an attack by highwaymen, he invited some other officers also travelling to London to accompany them. With every man armed, some riding up on top, they made the trip safely, if not comfortably.

Once in London, they stopped by the house and unloaded the coach. The passengers were invited into the house for a meal before going on their separate ways. One of them, Lieutenant Heyward, had returned from service in the Orient on a heavy frigate a year ago. Despite constant searching, he found nothing available and admitted over a pair of bottles he was concerned with his future.

Married, with a large family, Heyward was also elderly for his rank. Over fifty now, he well knew he was unlikely to ever be promoted higher, and many captains disliked having a lieutenant his age on their quarterdeck. It could be that he was on the beach for life now, and it was difficult to support his family on the half-pay. He had spent nearly all of the remainder of his funds on this trip to Portsmouth, where he had heard there were command vacancies for a pair of gun brigs. The trip came to naught when the brigs were returned at the last minute to their old berths in ordinary.

Mullins was non-committal, upon hearing his problems. These problems were rife in the navy, with little anyone could do to help. Having no command of his own at the moment, he could offer nothing to the officer. Knowing nothing about the man or his capabilities, he thought he probably would not do so in any case. For his own officers, he preferred younger men, still vigorous, who were not afraid to take chances.

Mullins spent a month in London, squiring Doris around to all the balls and theaters she wished. This activity was beginning to pall on him when the post brought the notice from the Admiralty.

They had a new stable boy now, to assist the elderly hostler. The lad was dressed in some old livery found in a closet and he drove Mullins in the chaise to the Admiralty building on Whitehall.

Mullins expected he would be waiting for hours for someone to take notice of a junior post captain. He sent his chaise back to the house, telling the driver he would find his own way back.

No sooner had he found a vacant seat in the waiting room and located a newspaper, the porter was at his arm, telling him Lord Arnesley would see him now.

The second sea lord greeted him effusively and complimented him on his previous service. Getting right to the point, Lord Arnesley told him he was being considered for command of HMS Juno for service in the Med. Juno was a thirty-two-gun frigate, now moored in the Pool of London, and available for his inspection should he wish to look her over before acceptance.

At the moment, she had a full crew, save for her first lieutenant, who had involved himself in some difficulty. There were no current plans for him to remain on active service.

“Did Captain Mullins have a candidate in mind for that position?”

At once Mullins accepted the command, without exercising the option to look the ship over. He proposed his former first officer, Mister Howard, for first officer but was told that worthy had already sailed for the Baltic, commanding a dispatch cutter.

Mullins, at a loss, dredged up other names of officers he had known from the recesses of his memory, but was told all of them were either out of reach or serving on other ships.

At the last moment, he recalled the name of Mister Heyward, who he had entertained at his home. He wondered if Lord Arnesley had any information on this officer.

A clerk was sent rushing out to locate what information Admiralty had on this officer. While waiting, Lord Arnesley gave Mullins an involved account of salmon fishing on his estate.

When the clerk returned, he handed the voluminous folder to the sea lord, who in turn handed it over to Captain Mullins.

Leafing through it hurriedly, Mullins found Heywards’ previous captains had positive comments for this officer, especially his ship-handling abilities.

Several of them however had commented upon his lack of interest. No Member of Parliament or ranking officers in the Royal Navy had seen fit to take his career in their charge and see him promoted. Another entry mentioned his inability to exercise tact when dealing with those of a higher station in life than his own. Mullins was able to understand at once why this officer seemed destined to a life on the beach.

Mullins hesitantly proposed the name of Heyward for his first officer and this was accepted. Told that a messenger would deliver the necessary orders to Heyward’s quarters that very day, Mullins left for the Pool.

It was afternoon when Mullins arrived. Sitting on a bollard mounted on a stone pier, he looked about, hoping to sight the Juno. The Pool was jammed with shipping, making it difficult to distinguish one ship from another. As he looked without result, two youths approached. He took a firm grip on his purse just in case they were up to no good. As they came closer, he saw they were clad in the ragged remnants of midshipman clothing. The anxiety vanished. He could handle midshipmen, ragged or otherwise.

When one of them asked, “Can we help you with anything, Captain?”, Mullins knew these mids were likely without a ship, earning a living by doing services for more fortunate officers. Fumbling a coin from his purse, he asked, “Would either of you lads know where HMS Juno is moored?”

Both eagerly pointed to a cluster of shipping near the far shore. The tall one announced, “There she is sir, she is moored right behind that razée. She has been there for the last week, ever since she came down from Davis’ yard. She has been taking aboard her hands, and a bad lot some of them appear to be. She sails for the Med, but there has been some trouble with her captain and first officer.”

Mullins grunted when he heard the unasked-for news. “Do you suppose either of you could find a way to take a note to Jumo’s watch stander?”

Mullins soon learned the lads had salvaged an old, abandoned punt upstream and used her to convey messages to the various moored ships. He was told they would deliver the message for a shilling, which Mullins thought was highway robbery, but decided these were growing boys and needed to eat like everyone else.

While looking through his bag for pen and ink, he found he had neglected to bring those tools. Giving up the idea of a written message, he composed a short verbal one that he thought the lads might be able to convey without mangling it too much.

“Would you please tell the master’s mate of the watch on Juno that Captain Mullins will be boarding in two hours to take command of the ship.”

Both of them eagerly nodded their willingness. The short one removed his cap and hesitantly asked, “Sir, we would be ever so glad if you could take us aboard your ship.”

Caught short by the request, Mullins considered that he knew nothing about these boys or their capabilities, but he well knew that if he did not have the allotted number of mids in his gunroom, various superior officers would insist he take their sons, nephews and grandchildren aboard. In his own opinion, there was nothing more useless than a first-commission midshipman. At least this pair probably knew the difference between port and starboard.

Deciding if these boys did not suit, he could always send them ashore, or perhaps train them up to be topmen.

Surprising them both, he agreed to the request, telling them he would take them on temporarily, to see how matters worked out. He ordered them to deliver the message, then return to shore where he would feed them. They would take a shore boat to the ship later that evening.

Mullins made a mental note of their names before they set out on the voyage across the Pool. While waiting for the boys, Anderson and Perkins to return, an itinerate scribe came by with his little pushcart. Mullins paid him to write a short message to his wife explaining he had a ship and would be spending the night on her. He promised to be home on the morrow and explain everything. Handing the scribe his fee, the old man promised to put the message in the post within the hour.

There was some delay with the midshipmen’s return. Mullins suspected there was some disbelief aboard the Juno about these ragged boy’s story, but eventually the shabby old punt was seen making its way back across.

Perkins explained, being senior, he had spoken to the Juno’s second officer and informed him of the new captain’s impending visit. Mister Hakes offered his respects and said the ship would be waiting.

Keeping his word to his midshipmen, he looked for a place to feed them. A pie man had his cart nearby, but his offerings did not impress the captain. An inn nearby seemed to offer the most hope so they went there. It was not crowded this time of day and they were able to secure seats on the bench at the long table. At this time there was little to offer, but Mullins purchased the remains of a loaf of bread and some cold mutton with mustard. The maid brought them jars of beer to wash down their meal. After she filled their mugs, she went over to a solitary figure sitting at a bench to replenish his drink.

With a start, Mullins saw that it was Lieutenant Heyward. It had been a matter of weeks since Mullins had seen the officer, but it seemed he had grown even more shabby. Thinking the officer had received his orders and was on the verge of reporting for duty, Mullins wondered at a first officer reporting for duty in such a state.

Hiding his chagrin however, he invited Heyward over and bought him another drink. It soon transpired that Heyward had not yet received the orders and was merely passing time looking over the ships. Captain Mullins amazed the officer when he told him orders were likely at his residence that would put him aboard Juno as first officer.