HMS Aurora: A Charles Mullins Novel (Sea Command Book 3) (7 page)

It was now the frigate’s turn to administer punishment, but the sudden damage had hindered the enemy crew’s efforts to bring the ship around successfully, and she was caught hanging in stays, until an officer was able to get her under control again.

The carronades were reloaded first and again the heavy guns were the first to fire, seconded by the long nines, as they were readied. Almost at the last minute, the desperate crew of the enemy frigate was able to get their ship around for her broadside to bear. Now it was Aurora’s turn to receive punishment.

The frigate’s guns were still charged with ball, and many of these eight and-twelve-pound projectiles were fired at Aurora. As was often the practice in the French naval service, most of the balls were directed into Aurora’s tops, where they struck nothing. Long before the French guns could be recharged, the Aurora’s guns were ready again. When the carronades were ordered to shift to grapeshot, the first result was the severing of the starboard foremast shrouds, and the weakened mast let go. The press of sail on that mast snapped it at the notch left by the previous strike on the foremast. It came down, falling across the deck to port.

With all guns now switching first to grape and now case shot, the deck of the enemy ship became a deadly area for men to work or fight on. The men on the enemy quarterdeck who had been directing operations were all struck down, and now there was no one to turn to for advice or help.

One by one, the individual enemy guns fell quiet as their effective crewmembers were struck down. Eventually, when firing had all but ceased on the frigate, Mullins ordered the cease-fire and the crew waited.

Cautiously, a figure raised himself from the enemy deck and waved a white shirt. Waiting a few more moments, Mullins ordered the launch brought up and filled it with Marines and armed seamen. Dropping down into the stern sheets, over the vigorous objections of Mister Daley, Mullins had himself pulled over to the frigate.

Climbing onto her deck by means of the wreckage of the foremast, Mullins surveyed his capture. Most of the enemy crew were quiet, save for one burly fellow who seemed to want to renew hostilities. Coming at Mullins suddenly, wielding a boarding axe, Mullins momentarily was at a loss. Not so Private Cummings of the ship’s Royal Marines, who was standing beside his captain. His corporal had ordered him to protect Captain Mullins and protect him, he would. A blast from the Marine’s musket halted the assailant, and his bayonet through the assailant’s body, felled him.

With this the only untoward incident, the surviving enemy crew were ordered below. A single, surviving junior officer in training, surrendered the frigate. All of the other officers were casualties. The most important task was now to keep the frigate afloat. Dreadful damage had been done to the ship, especially in the bow. With most of his own ship’s company aboard the prize making repairs, Mullins was forced to ruefully watch the convoy the frigate had been guarding, sail over the horizon, watched now by their former chase, that elusive schooner.

With grave doubts whether the frigate could safely make it to Gibraltar, Mullins elected to take her to Malta. There was some astonishment when they sailed into Valetta harbor. It was not every day that an eighteen-gun ship-sloop was able to so devastate a twenty-eight-gun frigate. Several ships of the Mediterranean fleet were in the harbor, and a group of post captains came aboard the prize that afternoon to hear about the battle.

The carpenter from a third rate came over the next day to discover what needed to be done to permit the frigate to sail. He was gloomy over her prospects, saying he doubted if she would ever sail again. On the other hand, the commodore was more optimistic, assuring all the frigate would soon be whole again, if only she could be delivered to a British dockyard.

The French aspirant that had surrendered the prize was terrified by thoughts of what might happen to him for his action. Mullins invited him into his cabin on several occasions for a meal and provided the youth with a detailed account of the battle, as seen through British eyes.

In his account, he explained the frigate lost most of its officers only in the last minutes of the battle and the aspirant should be held blameless for its surrender. The clerk, on his captain’s order, drafted an accurate account of the battle, which Mullins signed and gave to the aspirant.

If he was to face a court martial for his actions, this account should give the lad’s defense some assistance.

Grateful for this assistance, the lad was able to recount what he knew about French plans for the defense of Egypt. Mullins called for his clerk, who wrote down the aspirant’s account. This would be sent to Whitehall long with his own views, but Mullins put little value on either. Much of what the boy had to say seemed more likely to be typical gunroom or wardroom gossip. As for his own views, he would be the first to admit to having little confidence in any information he had gathered.

Stretching over to the eastern Med to investigate reports of French warships there, they met up with Commodore Sidney Smith in HMS Tigre, an eighty gun third rate. From Smith, Mullins learned of a proposed landing by British forces at Aboukir Bay. This action would seem to eliminate the need for Aurora’s mission, since Commodore Smith already had the information needed to bring his enemy into action.

With orders from Smith to return to Gibraltar to deliver dispatches, Aurora left the eastern Mediterranean for return to Gibraltar. Charged with delivering these dispatches in a timely manner, Aurora was forbidden to break passage under any but the most dire of conditions.

South of the boot of Italy, at first light, the masthead lookout sighted the tops of some strange shipping ahead. Following the spirit of his orders, Mullins ordered the ship to evade to the south. At first Mullins thought his ship remained unseen, his maneuver a success. Then, the masthead lookout reported two sails separating from the others and making for Aurora.

Wishing no interference with his mission, Captain Mullins put the wind on his quarter, his best point of sailing, and hung up all of his canvas in the light breeze. Aurora immediately stepped out like a thoroughbred, raising a respectable mustache at her bow. One of her pursuers though, was just a bit faster, fresh out of a yard, as she was. This was soon identified as a French national ship-corvette, of about the same size as Aurora. Her consort, now lagging behind, was a brig, pierced for a dozen guns.

Mullins had no qualms about engaging the corvette, unless something greatly unexpected happened, his carronades should give him the edge in any ship-to-ship action, provided that action was fought within carronade range. There was the rub, though. If that enemy captain smelled a rat, he could stand off and snipe away at long range until his consort caught up. The only solution would be to engage the enemy ship-corvette while the enemy brig was still out of range. Then, if he were able to defeat the ship quickly, he could engage the brig at his leisure.

Leading his pursuers out into the Med, the brig dropped farther behind until its tops went below the horizon. Satisfied the brig was out of the race, Mullins ordered Aurora put about and made directly for the enemy ship-corvette.

As they approached each other, once within long-gun range, the enemy came to and presented her beam to them, her guns run out, waiting. Ignoring the invitation, Aurora continued to close. Accepting the opportunity, the enemy fired off her broadside at long range, with little to show for the expenditure of ammunition. Those shot aimed correctly mostly went into the tops, accomplishing little. More went into the sea about Aurora.

The only result was the severing of a few shroud lines for the mainmast. Men scrambled to repair this minor damage and Aurora continued her approach. When the enemy fired again, she was now closer, and she made four hits on Aurora. Three of the four were in the tops, a ball puncturing the mizzen tops’l, another striking the fore topsail yard and another severing the forestay. The more serious injury came from the ball that struck right up forward and passed right down the deck, killing a landsman and wounding two more.

Aurora continued her approach and was now within carronade range. The first officer had timed the firing times of the enemy guns, and just before the enemy was expected to fire, Mullins put the ship about, with her starboard broadside presented to the enemy. Opening fire seconds before the enemy was ready, produced encouraging results. At this close range, most of the balls struck their target. Mullins was counting on the two carronades in the broadside and one, at least, did not fail him. It struck the corvette low, right up forward.

That huge hole should give the enemy captain something to consider. In addition to this damage, two of the enemy guns were disabled. Realizing he was under fire from guns larger than he possessed, the enemy put about and retreated, pounded by Aurora’s fire as she went. Mullins was confident he could finish off the enemy ship now, what with her damage, but the brig was coming up, and he could envision the dressing-down he could expect to receive if he disobeyed his orders to avoid action with the enemy.

Accordingly, Aurora sat waiting for any sign the enemy captain might wish to change his mind. When he continued his retreat, Aurora put about and resumed her course toward Gibraltar.

Once the ship was at anchor, and the port doctor was making his inspection, Mullins was called to the Convent, a former church building where the government offices were located. The dispatches were handed over to an official who informed him they would be sent home by other means. A mail packet was in the harbor, ready to sail. A fast sailor, the papers would get back earlier on her than aboard Aurora.

She received new orders to return to the Med, there to take part in the blockade of Toulon. Members of his crew, mainly newly-joined landsmen, were not happy with this news. They were anticipating a return to Portsmouth and a run ashore. With some of the outraged crewmen loudly expressing their dissatisfaction, Mullins felt himself forced to take a firm hand with his people. Usually considered to be a considerate captain, he had the hands mustered and explained his likely actions.

“Men, none of you have seen a man flogged while I have commanded this ship. With my own ears, I have heard some of you threatening mutiny if we do not return to England. All of you know that is not how the Navy operates. We go where we are ordered, not where some loud landsman tells me where I must go. I will give you fair warning. My officers, warrants and petty officers have my orders to report such infractions to the first officer. I will consider each case coming before me and will see each culprit at mast.”

“If I consider a threat serious, I will remand the case to a court martial. You men have heard me read the Articles of War often enough. You should all be familiar with the penalties of such talk.  In case any of you are not, I will read those articles again at Sunday divisions. Please listen carefully and take note.”

With no further displays of discontent apparent, Aurora finished taking on stores and received her orders. As they left the harbor, Mullins gave the ship to the sailing master and asked his first officer into his cabin. There they discussed the mood of the ship. The captain believed the men would soon forget their grievances, but Mister Daley was not so sure. He felt there was little danger from the old hands, but there was a large proportion of men furnished by the Impress Service, some of whom had left gaol cells to serve in the Royal Navy. It was these men who were causing much of the trouble.

As they talked, Mullins heard the Marine sentry outside his door raise his voice, then a thud, a groan, and the clatter of something heavy dropped to the deck. Mullins went to the door to investigate, while Mister Daley drew his sword, which he had taken to wearing lately when on duty.

As Mullins reached the door, it swung open and Landsman Weyland stepped in, with one of the ship’s pistols in his hand. Behind him were two more hands, one armed with another pistol and the third wielded the sentry’s musket. Private Wells lay on the deck outside, blood running from his head, pooling on the deck.

Weyland pressed the muzzle of his weapon against Mullin’s head and ordered Daley to drop his blade. With Mister Daley disarmed, other men crowded into the cabin and tied the officers’ arms with line they had brought.

Thoughts were flashing through Mullins mind, what he could say to these people to convince them to give it up. In the end, he kept his silence. By their own actions, these men had just condemned themselves to hang. Nothing he could say would likely convince them to give up this nonsense.

Weyland ordered one of the others to go out on deck and tell the duty officer to hand over the ship to the mutinous hands. A moment later, the voice of Mister Evans was heard as he shouted to his captain.

“Sir, we are told we must give over the ship. I have not complied and have a few good men with me and some arms.”

Weyland produced a seaman’s knife, which he pressed firmly against Mullin’s neck. “Not a word, Captain.”

The two officers sat in the cabin all that day. Occasionally their guards were relieved, but it seemed to be only a few who were entrusted with the task. At least, the same men returned after a few hours off duty. Mullins, familiar with his ship, believed they were still more or less on course, and suspected only a small number of hands were involved with the mutiny, but it seemed obvious that a majority of the seamen were willing to cooperate with the mutineers.

That night, when the relief for their guard came on duty, the officers had their first suspicions confirmed that the mutineers were encountering difficulties. The relief guard had already stood two previous watches and was in a surly mood. When Mullins tried to engage the man in discussion, the lout offered to cut his captain’s throat.

By mutual agreement, Mullins and the first officer kept their silence and their guard responded by falling asleep, sitting at the captain’s desk. Minutes later, sounds at the starboard gun port resulted in something on a line being passed through. The single light in the cabin did not produce enough light to identify the object, but Mullins, tied in his chair, was able to maneuver over to the gun port to investigate.

There were two objects secured to the end of the line. The first was a razor-sharp seaman’s knife, the other was a pocket pistol belonging to Mister Evans.

Their guard was now snoring away, showing no interest in their activities. With their hands secured behind them there was going to be some difficulty in taking possession of their gifts. Daley managed to back his chair up to the gun port and seize the line to which the weapons were secured. Mullins edged his chair over and took the knife in his numbed hand. Unable to control the blade himself, he held it while Daley attempted to sever the line holding his wrists.

At the cost of some cuts and blood, eventually the line was cut and Daley was able to shed his bonds. Daley then took custody of the blade and had Mullins freed, in short order. Their guard was still at the desk snoring noisily, his pistol on the desktop. Mullins sidled over and picked up the weapon, checking the priming as he did so. He would have liked to secure their guard, but had no line immediately available. The guard’s pistol though, would make an efficient club. Clutching it by its barrel, Mullins swung it against the man’s head. Inexperienced at rendering people unconscious, he struck harder than necessary and felt the skull give way from the blow. The mutineer never woke again.

Armed with the pistols and Daley’s sword, the pair crept through the cabin door. On the quarterdeck, Mister Evans sat on the deck by the helm, with a dozen others about. One of them was Mister Adolphus, who they soon learned was the one that had passed the weapons to them. Two more were Hudson, his clerk, and Archer, the newly appointed midshipman.

Evans explained their situation. His men controlled the helm but the seamen aboard, sometimes listening to the mutineers and sometimes not, controlled the sails. Evans, although deprived of his charts, was sure the ship was in or near the sea lanes usually travelled by shipping on the way to the blockading fleet at Toulon. The sailing master thought there was a good chance of sighting one or more of these ships. The problem here seemed to be, how would they notify one of these ships of their difficulty.

A dozen crewmen up forward were watching the officers at the helm. Evans explained that many of the seamen, while taking no part in the active mutiny, were refusing to follow orders. One hand had told him privately these were waiting to see how the situation played out. Some of the original active mutineers had seemingly dropped out, when most of the crew did not join with them. The more violent participants, few in number now, were mostly holed up on the mess deck. They had the contents of an arms chest in their possession and were prepared to cause much bloodshed.

It was believed most of the crew, while refusing to take part in any violence, would refuse to follow any orders they felt would result in their apprehension. Already talk had begun regarding taking the ship to either France or America.

When Mullins asked about weapons available to them, he was shown two swivel guns, several pistols and a pair of muskets. Not enough to take on a crew of mutineers.

Noticing Mister Adolphus on the outskirts of the group, Mullins recalled he had often used the lad as his signal officer. “Mister Adolphus, how is our supply of signal flags? Can we signal our plight to any warships we see?”

“Sir, the mutineers threw most of our flags overboard. I have a few they did not notice. The only useful ones might be two I have that would signal ‘Engage the enemy more closely’. This would seem to be gibberish, but might cause a ship to pay us some attention.”

As they spoke, a group of seamen detached themselves from mass of men on the foredeck and came aft. A topman Mullins recognized, Amos Harris, knuckled his forehead and spoke.

“Captain Mullins, we are glad you are alright. We were right fearful of what those gaolbirds might do to you.”

Mullins answered, “Harris, you puzzle me. I saw no evidence of yourself or anyone else, save for these people here on the quarterdeck, doing anything to quell this mutiny.”

“Sir, once this started, anything one of us did to stop it, would put nooses around our mates’ necks. We have all voted to keep you and your officers safe, but we will not do anything to have any hands brought to a court martial.”