Authors: Peter Smalley
'Monsieur Faulk, you forget that this is not the Royal
Navy, and that you are not in command of this ship.'
'At once, if you please!'
'If I was you, Monsieur Faulk, I should be careful not to
overreach myself, and upset my friends. I should remember
what they have done for me.' A hint of menace.
'What you have done for me! If you mean that you have
helped me to make a large fortune, may I remind you that I
have spent every penny of it in aiding the cause!'
'Ah, yes. Yes. You have not put any of it aside, of course.'
'I haven't time for this bloody foolishness! We must get
under way!'
'Perhaps, if you have not put any money aside, then you
are the foolish one, no? Perhaps, before you attempt to
take command of a ship that is not yours, you should
consider this. Your part in the cause is really a very little
one. You and I – all of us – are little parts of the whole, and
we must not presume to know everything of the grand
design.'
'I never have presumed it! I have always done what I was
asked, purely out of belief and loyalty to great ideas, to the
noble ideals of the revolution. But I am also a practical man,
a practical sea officer. If I am right about the boat being
followed, and the shadowing ships, we face great danger.
Surely you must grasp that I am in the best position to
undertake – '
'You are
not
in command here, Monsieur Faulk.' Over him,
with cold authority. 'Please return to your own vessel, and
leave all questions of strategy and command to us. Yes?'
Aidan Faulk stared hard at the other man, shook his head,
then ran up the ladder and went on deck, into the rising wind.
Dawn at sea, the grey light broadening over the wind-licked
swell, spray flying from the crests, and vestiges of mist rolling
and swirling away all round the tall heeling shape of HM
Hawk
cutter, ten guns, sailing large on the starboard tack, the
wind three points on her quarter.
'D-e-e-e-e-ck! Two sail of ships to the east!' The lookout
in the top.
James jumped into the shrouds, hooked an arm through for
steadiness, and focused his glass. Found the sails, a league or
more distant across the hazy, wind-tossed sea, the crests
foreshortened in the lens.
'They make for Dieppe.' To himself. Jumping down to the
deck:
'Mr Love! We will beat to quarters!'
He had not kept the guncrews at quarters in darkness,
thinking it unwise to make men weary when they could be at
rest. Better that they should fight the guns fresh and alert
than that they should come to an action bleary, stiff, and
tired. The scattering roll of the drum, the calls, thudding feet,
sand strewn in fans across the deck. A lone herring gull
floating at the topsail yard, dipping and gliding, his grey and
white plumage, the wings black-tipped, coming clearer in the
rising light. He saluted
Hawk
with a battle cry – 'quah-quahquah'
on the wind – and heeled away towards England. The
rush of sea along the wales, curling up nearly to the rail, and
surging away aft in a seething lace of foam. Backstays
humming and taut, blocks a-quiver aloft, the pennant flickering
long from the trucktop, curling and streaming seventy
foot above, and the great standing curve of the mainsail
spanking them along at fourteen knots.
James drew in a mist-cold, lung-filling breath, and felt
himself alive to the tips of his fingers.
'Starboard battery, Mr Abey!'
'Ready, sir!'
'Very good.'
Hawk
dipped her head and yawed a little, and corrected
herself with almost no help from the helmsman at her tiller.
James smiled, and set his hat a little firmer athwart his head.
'Come on, then.' Murmuring to himself as he raised his
glass and peered. 'Now we shall discover who is master, right
soon.'
Nothing of this was officially sanctioned, he knew, nothing
of it was according to the book, yet he did not feel that what
he undertook today, what he meant to undertake – in
rescuing Captain Rennie, and bringing him home safe, and
besting the other vessels at sea – was in any wise reprehensible,
or ill-advised, or wrong.
'On the contrary,' he murmured, 'it is entirely right.'
He had decided on a stratagem during the night. First, he
must disable the
Lark
. He must shatter her rudder by raking
her stern. He must then contrive to dismast her. Rudderless,
unable to make sail, she could not bring her guns to bear.
Straightway after he must deal with the corvette. She was
ported for at least twenty guns, probably six-pounders. She
could well carry other guns – chasers, or carronades, and
swivels. Rennie would be kept below, James was in no doubt,
and thus would not be in immediate danger during the action.
Hawk
, with her eighteen-pounder carronades, could match
the corvette's broadside weight of iron – and better it, too, by
thirty pound. In speed of handling, going about, and
reloading,
Hawk
also held the advantage.
However, he must in least consider the possibility – probability
– that
Hawk
could suffer damage. Should the corvette
manage to loose a broadside at
Hawk
, and strike her with
even a fraction of the roundshot aimed, severe injury could
result. Two or three six-pound roundshot, flying at a
thousand feet per second into
Hawk
's rigging, or striking her
mast, gaff, yards, could deliver crippling impairment. He
must rely on speed, and the sheer determination of his
assault. Again he went over the plan in his head. One broadside
to disable her rudder, a second to dismast her. Then an
immediate following attack, even as the guns were reloading,
upon the corvette. He summoned Midshipman Abey.
'Sir?' His hat off and on.
'I know that you are tired, having kept the deck all night.'
'I lay down under the boat as you advised, sir, and got an
hour or two of sleep.'
'Very good. You are refreshed?'
'I am, sir. And ready for anything asked of me, or ordered.'
'I will like marksmen in the top when we attack the
corvette.'
'Aye, sir. How many?'
'Two, Richard. But they are not to carry muskets aloft.
They are to carry swivels, and canister. They are to fire down
into her waist, and kill men.'
'Aye, sir.' A little subdued.
'That is a very harsh thing for a sea officer to require of his
people – we must kill seamen deliberate – but in this action
we shall have no choice. We are outnumbered very severe.'
'Yes, sir.'
Glancing away, and taking a quick step or two, then
returning: 'Our first broadsides will in course be roundshot,
to smash
Lark
. Reloaded, our broadsides are to be grape.'
'Grape, sir?' Surprised. 'To attack the larger ship?'
'Aye, y'heard me right. I know that I said we would use
roundshot throughout the action, with full allowance
powder, when I gave you my plan of action yesternight. I
have changed my mind.'
'Yes, sir?'
'I will like to employ French tactics against this French
ship.' Seeing the youth's puzzled face: 'They will naturally
expect from an Englishman roundshot broadsides, first fire.'
He shook his head. 'French gunnery method – I believe it is
in their fighting instructions – is to deploy grape, firing into
the rigging, and firing at guncrew, for maximum damage and
injury. Very good, we shall match them. Only we shall fire
first, that is the essence of it. Fire first, and bring down on
their heads a great tangle of rigging, yards, and canvas on the
heads of gravely broken men. Throw them into terrible
disarray. Then, our second broadside . . . ?'
'Roundshot, sir?'
'Roundshot, Richard.' A nod. 'Pass the word for the
gunner, if y'please. I will like full allowance and
double
shot,
our second fire on the corvette. Then we must board her, and
find the captain.'
When James had seen the gunner, and given him his
instruction, he again fell into reflection. Not only was this
stratagem without official sanction, it was very probably – the
plan entire – a career-ending matter, should it go badly.
England was not at war with France – not yet, at any rate –
and to make war on another ship at sea in the peace was in
usual described as piracy. If things went wrong, badly wrong,
by God he could face court martial, and be cashiered.
'Disgraced.' Aloud.
'Sir?' The helmsman.
'Nay, nothing. I was clearing my wind.' And he coughed
and made a performance of clearing his throat. Glanced aloft,
and forrard, and asked the usual questions. How did she lie?
How did she respond? Received the usual replies:
Hawk
was
a fine sturdy sea boat; she sailed true and fast.
'We will ease her a point.'
'Aye, sir.' And it was done.
A few moments told James and the helmsman both that
Hawk
was not appreciably faster, in fact was perhaps a
fraction slower, and James gave the order to take back that
point, the wind on her quarter, and again she lay fast and true,
cutting through the sea.
James summoned the carpenter, and discovered the depth
of water in the well – negligible. He strode forrard, and trod
the length of his command, and returned. Jumped up into the
shrouds, and focused his glass. They had gained.
Hawk
had
gained, despite the chased vessels' stunsails and clear
determination to outrun the pursuer.
'I mean to prevail this day.' James jumped down on the
deck. 'I feel in my marrow that I will.'
The day broadened, and the distance between pursuer and
prey narrowed on the sea.
The first intimation Lieutenant Hayter received that his
stratagem was undone was the divergence of the two vessels
ahead. It happened abruptly. The corvette turned away wide
to the south;
Lark
ran in a looping sweep to the north.
'Christ's blood,' James, in consternation, 'we must chase
one, or t'other. But which?'
He summoned his sailing master, Garvey Dumbleton, and
presently made his decision:
'We will smash
Lark
first, and then pursue the corvette. I
want you to lay me as close in by the cutter as may be
possible.'
'Aye, sir. Ain't Captain Rennie in the . . . ?' Faltering as he
saw James's glare.
'What about Captain Rennie?'
'I only meant – that I believed him to be in the corvette,
sir.'
'So he is, Mr Dumbleton. I will not like to attack the
corvette, however, only to discover
Lark
doubled back and
lying under my stern, and her shot raking my own rudder. I
must disable
Lark
at once.'
'Very good, sir.'
He did as he was told, and soon
Hawk
was in fleet pursuit
of the fleeing
Lark
, the sun gleaming and dazzling from out
of the east, from out of the hidden coast of France.
The
Hawk
pursued the
Lark
, the bird of prey attempting to
fall on the songbird, and gained on her. The lookouts in the
top kept the deck constantly informed; one watched the
cutter, the other the corvette.
'D-e-e-e-ck!
Lark
coming about!'
'Coming about?' James, bringing up his Dollond glass.
'The corvette continues due south!' The second lookout.
James swung his glass briefly to the south, saw the corvette
still in full retreat, and was part relieved, part dismayed. If he
did not resolve the question of the
Lark
right quick, the
corvette would slip away altogether. Muttering:
'Why does she go so far south? Why don't she swing east
for Dieppe?' He swung the glass again to the north, just as the
first lookout:
'
Lark
heading due south, sir!'
'South! He sails at us direct?' James lowered the glass a
moment, frowning, then: 'Yes, I see. The corvette makes for
Le Havre, not Dieppe after all. The
Lark
seeks now to engage
us, having lured us away, while the corvette escapes into Le
Havre, to take Captain Rennie ashore and into the depths of
France, where we cannot hope to rescue him.' Louder,
sucking in a breath:
'Mr Dumbleton!'
'Sir?'
'I have changed my mind. We will go about, if y'please, and
head south in pursuit of the corvette.'
'Aye, sir! Very good!' His hat off and on, with enthusiasm.
'Mr Love! Stand by to go about!'
James peered again through his glass, braced himself as
Hawk
swung in a swift, heeling arc to head south, and: 'Mr
Abey!'
'Sir?' Coming aft from one of the forrard carronades.
'We must outrun the
Lark
, now – if we can. However, if
she should gain on us we must turn and fight, at the last
possible moment. In that event I will like you to be ready with
your larboard battery to fire
as we go about
. You apprehend
me?'
'Yes, sir.'
'You will so angle your carronades on their transverse
trucks as to bring them to bear when we are yet at an oblique,
impossible angle of fire – as
Lark
will read it. You see?'
'I do, sir.' Nodding eagerly.
'Thus you will be able to fire on the
Lark
well before she is
able to fire at us, because her long guns cannot be brought to
bear. Your purpose, in fact your design entire, is to dismast
her.'
'Very good, sir.'
'Smash me her mast, Mr Abey!' This largely for the benefit
of the crew, to encourage them.
'I will, sir.'
James put his hand on the youth's shoulder. In a quieter,
more confidential tone: 'Now then, Richard, I am depending
on you, this day.'
'I will not fail you, sir.' Earnestly.
A nod from James, and the midshipman went forrard, his
heart lifted, his whole being filled with the responsibility
placed upon him.
Less than half a glass, and:
'
Lark
gaining on us, sir!' From aloft.