Thunder On the Sea: A Tim Phillips novel (War at Sea Book 11) (10 page)

This had been a fight its participants would talk about for many a year. It was not every day a little brig would defeat such a powerful ship. The question now was, what to do with the prize? In wartime, of course, the capture would be repaired as well as possible and then sailed home for the crew to face the adulation of the public.

Here though, this would be impossible. Britain and Spain were officially at peace with each other. Undoubtedly, the frigate’s captain had planned to obliterate the little brig, probably hoping its fate would never be ascertained. He probably assumed no one in Europe would ever hear of the brig’s destruction.

Probably it would be best to just sail off and leave the large ship to her own devices. It would not be prudent or probably possible to bring that frigate into a port that the brig could safely enter.

Accordingly, Mastiff cleared as much damage away as she could and sailed, leaving the big frigate wallowing in the waves.

Battered and bruised, Mastiff set course for the island of Trinidad, close to the mainland of Venezuela. Having been in British hands for twenty years now, it was the most convenient friendly port for them to reach. The brig remained there only a few days while the most urgent repairs were made. After dropping copies of their reports in the post, the brig set course for English Harbor in Antigua.

There, they were the subject of some suspicion until Captain Phillips produced the, thus far, secret documents that detailed their mission to this area. A meeting with Governor Ramsay finally settled their claim to be a King’s ship, entitled to be repaired and maintained at government dockyard.

The dockyard was in no hurry to complete their repairs, so Phillips took rooms in town and lived there with Mary and the children while governmental inertia slowly ground on. During the weeks and months of delay, the brig’s crew began to evaporate. Many of the men had thought themselves victims of sharp practice when they found they had actually been serving in the Royal Navy instead of just crewing a yacht, so felt no scruples in just walking away from the brig. Always supposing there was another ship heading for home waters that needed hands, of course.

Phillips himself informed Sergeant Henderson of the new order and provided the funds to array his sergeant in the glory of a Royal Marine uniform. Some of the green-uniformed men also remained, far from home and uncertain of how they were to make a living, opted to sign on also. The seamen, of course, had the opportunity of signing aboard any visiting ship that was missing a few crewmen.

Phillips continually badgered the Governor to persuade him to regularize the men’s naval and marine service so that he could have deserters apprehended, but Ramsay was reluctant. He decided to wait until instructions came from London to make a decision.

It was at that time the governor made a suggestion to Phillips. The British government had outlawed the importation of new slaves a few years earlier in the war. At the time, there had not been ships available to make much of a dent in this traffic. Ramsay proposed Phillips take his ship to sea to interdict some of this cruel traffic.

Phillips assured the governor he would gladly put to sea on that very quest as soon as he received a commission, supplies and a crew. This ended their conversation on the subject.

With his hands tied on matters concerning the ship, Phillips put it out of his mind. Hiring a little spring wagon, with a driver to handle the mule, Phillips and Mary began to explore the island. Putting all matters relating to the ship and the Navy from their minds they began to have a delightful time. The sun was too fierce for the babies’ light skin, so they were left behind in the care of a nurse.

The pair spent weeks in each other’s company, and it was inevitable they began to speak of marriage. Phillips had not been seeing Captain Fitzhugh on a regular basis, but running into him at the chandlery, Fitzhugh was asked if he would consider being best man at the wedding. Matters went rapidly at this point, and one morning he found himself coming out of the church entrance with a beautifully gowned Mary Phillips on his arm, under an arch of swords from officers of the local Army garrison.

The newlyweds had hardly a moment to become used to the idea when a mounted Royal Marine clattered up to the door. From his leather case, he pulled out a packet of papers which he presented to Captain Phillips.

One of the papers was just an order to present himself immediately to Governor Ramsay. Others, had come from London. He was congratulated on the completion of his mission and thanked for the information he had sent to London.

Now, there was to be a new mission. In almost the same words that Governor Ramsay had used earlier, he was acquainted with the proliferation of slave ships loading their cargo on the West Coast of Africa and transporting the unfortunate victims across the ocean to the various slave markets. He was required to attend upon the governor immediately.

His new wife had asked to use the wagon and driver to take her on a shopping excursion, so rather than hiring another vehicle, he decided to walk there. Actually, Government House was close by. It was only a few minutes after his arrival before he was ushered in to see the governor.

With orders and approval from London, all delays were put aside, and repairs and maintenance of the ship went on at a rapid pace. Exactly where he was to find a crew, Phillips had no idea, unless the governor would permit him to press the men he needed. As it happened though, good fortune supplied the answer.

With the war now over, many of the Royal Navy’s bigger ships had been stripped of their crews and put in ordinary. One who was not, was HMS Apollo, an 80 gun third rate. On a proposed visit to the Caribbean to show the flag to the Spaniards, Apollo was caught up in a late-season hurricane. She survived, but suffered much expensive damage. With the budget being what it was, the dockyard decided not to repair the ship. There were plenty more back home, now waiting to go into ordinary, that could replace her. Her crew and many of her fittings would be removed and the two-decker would become a hulk, useful as a floating warehouse.

With her crew coming ashore, there would be plenty of men to pick and choose from to man HMS Mastiff. It was anticipated the brig would do her cruising off the west coast of Africa. Closer to home though, small craft by the dozen were carrying loads of slaves illicitly among the islands, delivering the hands to smaller plantation owners. Other small craft, armed with a gun or two and manned with scores of hungry men, were also cruising these waters, taking whatever merchant shipping they ran across.

To meet these threats to peace, Governor Ramsay dipped into his funds and purchased a schooner which was armed and crewed with more of Apollo’s men and given to Lieutenant Fitzhugh. The schooner’s purpose was to patrol closer to home, hopefully snapping up the local slave and pirate traffic as well as any vessels that had evaded the British and American African patrols and made it across the middle passage.

The governor was unsure whom he should put in command of Mastiff. He had an elderly lieutenant as an aide, to whom he could give her. If Phillips approved, he himself could be appointed the new aide, else he must return to London.

Ramsay explained his reasoning to Phillips. “The only other option I can think of is place you in command. But that would be sure to ignite controversy among your naval colleagues. A brig, I understand, is the command of a lieutenant or commander, not a post captain like yourself.”

“Perhaps”, Phillips essayed, “we could temporarily dub the brig as a ‘post ship’. Then, I could legitimately remain aboard as her captain.”

“What about your honor?” worried the governor. “I know plenty of men who could not endure such a slight!”

“Oh, honor be damned!” muttered Phillips. “Give me something that floats and I will take it to sea.”

There would be no more nonsense of the brig being a private yacht. She would fly a commission pennant and the Union Jack. From a government warehouse, Phillips was able to draw sufficient Royal Marine uniforms and gear to supply his Marines.

What, though, was he to do with his wife and children? Mary wished to continue to sail with her husband, but the battle with the Spanish frigate had left a deep impression on her. She did not wish to subject the children to similar dangers again. Accordingly, she agreed to take passage back to Britain and resume care of the estate.

They had a week to spend together before it was time to part. Mary would take passage in a well set-up transport ship, taking military families back home. An Army captain that he knew slightly, taking his family home, volunteered to watch out for her. Phillips found he had come to care deeply for his wife. In the beginning, after the death of his child’s mother, he had merely regarded her as one of his employees, a necessary convenience without whose services he would have had great difficulty keeping his infant son alive.

In the time since, he found he could rely on her intelligence and advice. Gradually, almost without becoming aware of it, he found that respect had turned to love. It was bitter to stand on the quay and watch the transport’s boat take his wife and the boys out to the ship.

Before he could fall into the depths of melancholy though, here was Mister Andrews, one of his more useless midshipmen, to inform him the most recent supply of ship’s biscuit brought aboard was infested with maggots, and probably inedible, even by the Royal Navy’s relaxed standards.

By the time he had sorted out that difficulty, more troubles fell on his shoulders, so that by the time it was time to sail, he hardly knew what day of the week it was.

The draft of men from Apollo came over by launch in the midst of his personal anguish. In the morning, the decks and interior of the brig had been almost empty. That afternoon, after the launches had disgorged their passengers, those same decks were swarming with seamen carrying their bags and making their own critical observations of the brig. Having lost all of his own supervisory personnel, some of the officers and petty officers from Apollo came over too.

He had a young Lieutenant, Mister Burns, to serve as first officer. Burns had been fifth officer on Apollo. The young man was at first just another anonymous officer among a herd of new faces. Burns soon pulled ahead of the others by taking charge and relieving his captain of many of his chores. Another young man, Mister Devons, rated as master’s mate, could also take the deck, when needed. There was a whole flood of midshipmen that had been interviewed by Captain Phillips before leaving Apollo. Some of these lads had a few cruises under their belts and could probably be trusted with important tasks.

The hurricane season was about over for this year when Mastiff set sail. The plan was to follow the Gulf Stream up the North American coastline, then cross the Atlantic. He planned to touch at Gibraltar, then it would be southerly down the African coast line, interviewing all ships encountered. Any ship carrying slaves would be seized, and the captives would be taken to the settlement at Sierra Leone, where they would be set free.

There was little difficulty with the ship or crew. Mastiff, of course, was in perfect order, and the men, before coming aboard, had been culled carefully. On the way up the American coast, they met plenty of Yankee ships, but there was no trouble. The war with that republic was ended, and British ship captains were strictly forbidden to show dis-respect to American ships or crew. The only American ships he might offer to molest would be ships returning from Africa with holds full of slaves.

Captain Phillips had visited America before and wished to do so again, but now was not the time. Lieutenant Burns was a most efficient first officer, well versed with his duties and determined to spare his captain any effort in the handling of the ship.

On her arrival at Gibraltar, Mastiff fired off the salute, and her crew went right to work loading the tons of provisions that had been ordered for them long before their arrival. The more experienced of the hands expressed their displeasure when the casks of Spanish red wine were hoisted aboard in place of the rum they had been consuming since their departure from the Caribbean.

While the men would consume alcohol in almost any form when the occasion arose, rum was their favorite, and discord was to be expected when it was not available. As far as the Navy was concerned, availability and price was the important factor. In home waters, beer was frequently issued, but that did not travel well. In the Med, whatever cheap wine that could be found was issued to the men. For longer voyages, to or from the Caribbean, rum was favored since it did not spoil.

Two hands came aboard just before Mastiff sailed. Both claimed to be off an American merchantman that had sailed without them, and maybe that was true. One seaman, Jonas Fellowes, claimed to have served on a Baltimore based slave ship on several cruises. Seeming to have a plethora of knowledge of the trade, as well as being a skilled seaman, Phillips rated the man as quartermaster’s mate. His station would be near the helm, where he could advise the ships officer’s on matters relating to the slave trade.

At last ready to leave, with casks of salted beef and pork as well as the bags of biscuit taking up all available cargo space, Mastiff set sail. She rode so low in the water, from the extra provisions, since it was uncertain where or when she could re-supply. Phillips knew the sluggish brig would have difficulty taking many prizes initially because of her slow speed. Slave ships were generally fast-sailing craft, so as to be able to get their highly perishable cargo to market before losing too much profit. Of course, the slavers would be low in the water too, at least initially. Later in the voyage, as stores were consumed, and the dead thrown over the side, the ships would rise higher in the water.

The masters of these slave ships usually jammed as many Africans in the bowels of the ships as was physically possible. If there were any delay at all in the progress of the slave ship to its destination, the casualty rate among the Africans would be horrendous.

Of course, it was all business to the owners and captains of these horrors. Little was paid for their victims at the slave barracoons along the western coast of Africa. Owners and captains realized they would lose much of their cargo due to disease and overcrowding. Their hope was a fast passage across the Atlantic to their markets. If such a speedy passage could be made, those having a share of the profits could reap respectable rewards.

Even with a loss rate approaching twenty percent of the slaves, money could still be made, as long as expenses were kept down. It was HMS Mastiff’s duty to apprehend as many of these slavers as she could, rescue as many slaves as possible, and return them to Africa. Since the time many of them had been originally been captured by raiding parties, or had even been sold into slavery by their own tribal leaders, they had been marched over long distances to the coastal barracoon where they were confined until purchased.

Often, the population of the slave barracoon was composed of groups of people from large numbers of tribes, often speaking differing languages. Unable to communicate with their fellow prisoners or their new masters, the individual slaves were in a dreadful predicament.

If a British warship should capture one of the ‘Blackbirder’ slave ships, there was the problem of what to do with the freed slaves. Since it was impractical to send them back to their original homelands, of which there might be dozens or more, some far inland, many were sent to Sierra Leone, which became an important refuge. The colony had previously served as a refuge for slaves from Revolutionary War America who had been re-settled first in Nova Scotia and London before being sent to Africa.

Shipping was plentiful along the African coast. Some of it was legitimate, the trade looking for ivory, gold and other products of the region. Other ships, of course, had loaded trade goods in European ports, which would be used to trade for slaves at the barracoons. Mastiff could not actually interfere with a ship unless she had slaves on board. This was where Fellowes began to earn his keep.

Coming on duty with the morning watch, he called over Mister Devons, a master’s mate taken aboard in Antigua. Pointing towards the African shore to port, the land still hidden in darkness, he reported there was a slave market and barracoon up a small river just ahead.  Devons said large ships could not get over the bar at the mouth of the river, so they sent launches upstream to the market. He said there was a rather exposed anchorage where the slave ships sometimes waited.

As soon as Phillips came on deck, Mister Devons brought Fellowes over to him. After listening to the explanation, Phillips asked how they could determine whether any ship they spotted in the anchorage had any slaves aboard.

Devons explained what he knew. “Sir, an important chief of the region had some slave pens set up at the end of an overland trading route here. Arab traders sometimes drive slave coffles to this post, where they are purchased by the local chief. He sells the slaves to any European ship that comes along looking for this type of cargo. Ships do not come every day though, and sometimes the slaves have to stay in the pens for weeks. When a ship does come, its captain may not like the price asked or the condition of the slaves. A ship leaving may have a full load, or it may be empty. About the only way to be certain would be to come in the anchorage as they are loading.”

At any rate, it was decided to continue on past the anchorage as their presence had doubtless been noted. When the sun was well up and the ship south of the anchorage, she turned to starboard and made her way back out to sea. Retracing her route, she found herself at dusk again off the river’s mouth, but out of sight of land. The ship’s boats were manned with armed seamen and Marines and set out for the anchorage, with the first officer in command of the expedition.

Hours passed and Phillips worried. It was late afternoon when a large, ship-rigged vessel was spotted coming toward them towing their boats.

Mister Burns had a grin that spread across his face when he boarded Mastiff. “She is a legal prize, sir. She is the ‘Mary Parker’ out of Liverpool, bound for Louisiana. She has fifty Blacks on board, all that were in the slave pens when she arrived. A large coffle is expected any day now, and her master and many of her crew were ashore waiting for that to arrive. We came alongside and heard the noise the slaves were making on board. We had been spotted by the anchor watch, so I gave the order to board and up we went. There were only a few crewmen on board and most of them were drunk and below decks with their native women. There were some Black guards to keep the slaves under control, but they mostly dropped into their own boats when they saw our weapons.”

Phillips wondered, “Do you know where the members of the crew that went ashore are?”

Burns replied, “Two of the men remaining on board were Swedes, who could speak a little English. Fellowes had a talk with them.. He thinks the crew went to a party the chief here was hosting. A runner had reported the Arab traders were nearing the village and would likely arrive next day. Apparently, the slaver captain wanted to get an early idea of the quality on the incoming captives. This village is a few miles up the river by the slave pens. I did not like the idea of rowing up the river in the dark. We had possession of the ship so decided to bring her out.”

“And you decided correctly, Mister Burns.” Phillips decreed.