HMS Aphrodite (Sea Command Book 1) Read online

  The enemy guns were still thundering away, although slowly now that so many of her crew were casualties. The frigate drifting helplessly now, Havoc made her way around to her quarter where none of her guns could reach her. She sat there, her guns silent, while she waited to see what the enemy commander wished to do.

  In Mullin’s eye, surrender was the only possible option, but the frigate captain did not view it that way. Only fathoms away from the crippled warship, Havoc’s crew could see a party of seamen hauling a nine-pounder gun to an empty port. Mullins waited as long as he felt he possibly could, but then ordered a sections of carronades to fire on the enemy quarterdeck. The ensuing blast eliminated all on that quarterdeck, including the captain and the crew of the gun.

  The only sounds heard now were the screams and cries of hideously wounded men. There was no reaction now as the wind pushed the brig and frigate together. One burly seaman clambering up the frigate’s side gently removed the sword with which a young aspirant was threatening him.

  The frigate had suffered desperate damage, and the crews of both ships were kept busy, insuring she would not come to grief during a bad blow later on. As soon as Mullins was satisfied as to the safety of his own ship, he went over to the frigate and inspected the prize. She had lost almost all of her quarterdeck officers, with only the aspirant who had been handling the signals emerging more or less intact.

  Having sailed from port very recently, the prize was well supplied with necessary ship’s stores, enough to cover much of the repairs for both ships. After Havoc had repaired her most serious injuries and the prize was able to make the journey to Gibraltar, the pair separated and went on their ways.

  Chapter Four

  Shipping along the Ligurian coast was plentiful, the difficulty was determining just who the vessel in question was working for. To an extent, this question was alleviated when they came upon a coaster just off the coast. The dilapidated vessel came to at once when a gun was fired and Mister Waters took a boat over to investigate.

  Waters was becoming a most promising deck officer. Smaller vessels like Havoc were often supplied with a master’s mate instead of a master. This would often lead to promotion to master sometime in the future . Mullins had discussed the matter with Waters on a quiet night watch. Waters informed him he was of course happy to have the honor of serving in his present position, but hoped to someday attain commissioned status.

  He had already proved his merit when he took much of the initiative in repairing the battle damage incurred in the action with the enemy frigate. That ship had been hastily patched and sent to Gibraltar, along with her former crew, now prisoners. Havoc herself was as ready as his crew could make her. A major difficulty was the twenty casualties she had incurred in that fight with no immediate means of replacing them.

  When Waters returned, he brought with him a British Army captain of Hussars, although his uniform was in a sad state of disrepair. Nevertheless, upon gaining the deck, he stood at attention and saluted the quarterdeck and Mullins, himself.

  Invited to the cabin, the officer immediately demolished a chicken that had been roasting for Mullin’s dinner. Two bottles of claret likewise disappeared along with a quantity of ship’s biscuit. He informed Mullins the Italian Irregulars he had been advising had not had much luck in obtaining food, and most were starving when they were trapped by a French column in a blind valley.

  French infantry on the plain and cavalry charging down the hill put his people in disorder, with most being ridden down by horse. He had been fortunate enough to stumble across a tiny hole behind a thicket in which he remained hidden until the French finished their bloody business.

  He related most of the survivors were summarily dispatched for not being in uniform. A few were led away for questioning, but Captain Fitzwilliam was not optimistic concerning their survival. He revealed this French advance party was using the coast road for this advance into Liguria. He was certain they were being supplied by sea and, while examining one of Water’s charts, selected a likely fishing port he thought they might use.

  Regarding this as information that should be reported without delay, he placed Midshipman Wallace aboard the vessel with a crew of seamen and a pair of Marines with a statement furnished by Captain Fitzwilliam. Charged with locating the flag and reporting this information to Admiral Jervis, Wallace was off.

  Squaring away for the subject fishing port, they found upon entering its little bay the French column had already arrived. It was well after sunset and the enemy was unaware of their presence. Several outbuildings on the towns outskirts had been fired, and the troops were plainly visible as they went about their business of looting.

  As matters settled down in the town, it appeared the French had occupied a block of buildings on the waterfront. Guards surrounded these buildings, and the shipboard observers could see by firelight what the enemy was doing.

  Mullins decided he would approach the shore at daybreak and bombard the place. He halted his plans when a boat was seen approaching the brig from shore early in the morning before the sun was fully up. The officer in the boat queried the anchor watch in French, but the quick thinking bosun’s mate of the watch had one of his crew, a native of Genoa, answer in Italian.

  The brig’s Marines were hastily summoned and were ready when the surly French corporal climbed aboard with his men. Most were captured as they clambered aboard, but a few in the boat became alarmed at the disappearance of those who had already boarded the brig. When the pair left in the boat became alarmed and attempted to fend themselves off, an eighteen-pound carronade ball was dropped squarely into the boat’s bottom. Those men on deck on the brig were too busy securing their new captives and had not time to rescue the boat crew. One survivor of the sinking boat managed to swim to the brig and hang on until someone threw him a line. The second, opted to make for the shore, but went under long before he reached it.

  Captain Fitzwilliam spoke fluent French, and an interview with a few of the survivors elicited the information that French army forces ashore believed their brig was a transport meant to supply provisions. At this point, nobody on shore was believed to be aware of the subterfuge.

  The corporal refused to speak of his orders but a conscript swore they were to guard the contents of the supposed supply brig to prevent pilfering.

  Knowing the enemy column believed them to be allies, Mullins brought Havoc close in to shore, where they had a much better view. Fitzwilliam believed there were about two hundred troops, but assured Mullins there would likely be twice that many before nightfall.

  As they watched, they observed a train of four guns, eight-pounders by the look of them. The teams of bullocks hauling them looked done in, but Fitzwilliam thought those bullocks would be in the men’s cooking pots that night, with fresh cattle appropriated from the town’s former inhabitants. A detachment of artillery troops accompanied the guns and it was thought likely the invaders would construct a battery here to protect this port from seaborne attack.

  It was nearing mid-day when Mullins decided there was no more to be learned by delay, so he ordered his broadside guns laid on their targets. Every gun had been assigned its target, and was loaded with the charge deemed most appropriate. The crews of the erstwhile shore batteries were engaged in preparing a firing platform for their pieces. They had cleared away a flat expanse of ground and were beginning to haul over balks of timber and stone material to begin the construction of the protective emplacements.

  Before much of a beginning could be made of that, firing commenced. A deafening barrage knocked down the beginnings of the structure, decimated the working parties and killed the bullocks. Havoc was just barely within musket range and for a few minutes, outraged troops engaged in a losing duel with the brig’s guns. A few blasts of grape soon lessened the ardor of these troops and the hills were seen to be covered by scores of these men scrambling away.

  As Fitzwilliam dryly commented, “Few of those men will be alive tomorrow morning. Their predec
essors have treated the populace very badly, and I think they will now find themselves on the receiving end of Ligurian justice.

  After shooting away much of her powder and shot, Mullins took Havoc out to sea. Low as he was with ammunition and with a greatly depleted crew, Havoc set out to find the fleet and report.

  Havoc took up her station in trail behind HMS Victory, as ordered by flag signal. No further attention was given to her until next morning when she signaled, “Captain to repair aboard Flag.”

  Mullins was met by an officer and directed to Captain Robert Calder’s cabin. The flag captain was noncommittal over much of his report, but was animated over the capture of the French frigate. Mullins had to recount detail after detail about the capture of the enemy ship.

  “I hope you understand Mullins, this cannot last. Sooner or later the enemy will realize the secret to survive an attack by one of these gun brigs will be to simply stay out of carronade range and just shoot them to pieces with their long guns. Now then, I have Havoc’s ‘Statement of Condition’ here. Can you tell me verbally of anything you will need before you commence another patrol?”

  “Sir, we have had some casualties from our recent actions. I badly need another twenty men to bring our crew to complement. In addition, our supply of eighteen-pound shot is very low. Another action will likely consume what we now have.”

  “As for beef, biscuit and pork, we have sufficient to last us another month. Our water is low, but we can refill at most any small island. I would like to obtain any fresh fruit or vegetables available to help us ward off scurvy.”

  “As to the brig’s condition, she has been in several actions with resultant injury. My carpenter and his crew have worked wonders making her ready for service, but the fact remains, she could undergo a survey in a dockyard with profit.”

  Captain Calder rubbed his chin and considered. “Captain Mullins, all of this is something I must discuss with Sir John, which I intend to do over supper tonight. You will join the inshore blockading fleet and await further orders. I expect the flagship’s carpenter may well pay your brig a visit within a few days.

  Havoc made her way to join the smaller ships standing off Toulon’s harbor. The Inshore Squadron’s commander sent Havoc with a sloop-of war into the outer harbor one moonless night to investigate.

  The pair slipped into the harbor without notice and made up their notes of any changes that had occurred since the last examination. There had been no intent to find any trouble, but in the midwatch, a darkened ship appeared in the channel.

  With no notice at all, the sloop and brig both followed her out as she kept close to the coast in an effort to avoid detection by the blockading fleet. When the false dawn began to allow detail to be seen, the sloop showed a blue light and Havoc moved up to command the strange ship’s port quarter. The sloop moved in to cover her starboard beam and the thing was done. The prize was Genoese vessel with a Frenchman as captain and a mixed crew.

  Most of the ship’s crew was below and the deck watch had not thought to notify anyone of the blue glare behind. The ship was taken without a shot being fired as boarders from both her pursuers swarmed aboard. An examination in full daylight showed she was loaded with military stores for the Italian campaign, as well as a company of French light infantry. These troops were little used to travel by sea and most were suffering the pangs of sea-sickness. Other than some surly remarks in soldier’s French, no resistance had been offered. This capture would surely put a very slight crimp in the plans of the new French commander, a young Corsican officer named Buonaparte.

  The trio reached the Inshore Squadron just as a messenger cutter arrived from the flag. A midshipman from the cutter delivered orders for Havoc to return to the fleet for a brief survey. Accordingly, she took aboard all the prisoners from their last capture, and made her way back out to sea again.

  There was some difficulty as the brig now had nearly as many prisoners aboard as she did crew. The prisoners were put below while the crew was reduced to sleeping on the upper deck. When she joined the fleet, it seemed every glass in the fleet was trained on the little brig teeming with humanity. Even as she came into trail behind the three-decker, boats were pulling toward her to investigate.

  When the captive troops were paraded upon Havoc’s deck, Sir John himself came up to see. The flag signaled for Havoc’s captain to report, and Mullins found himself giving another explanation to Admiral Jervis.

  After the prisoners were transferred to the flagship, Jervis informed Mullins of his satisfaction with his activities and advised him that the Victory’s carpenter would be boarding the brig momentarily to suggest what might be done about her needed repairs.

  Mullins had supper that evening with Sir John and Captain Calder, returning to Havoc in a moderately intoxicated condition. The officer of the deck took it upon himself to have his captain hoisted onboard strapped into a bosun’s chair.

  The carpenter from HMS Victory arrived in the morning watch and spent the day roaming the brig, thumping on her timbers. Every echo of that sound reverberated through Mullin’s head that morning. Late in the evening, a report was furnished to Mullins, advising him of the necessity for dockyard repair, and recommending her captain return the brig to Portsmouth.

  Before departing, many of her stores and crew were removed, and it was a depleted brig that entered Portsmouth Harbor a few weeks later. Her remaining crew was removed to the receiving ship and the officers released to other duties. Phillips himself was ordered to London to appear at the Admiralty.

  Boarding the coach at his inn, Mullins was on his way to London. It was a wearying journey which was not completed until the next day. No incidents occurred on the trip, and he arrived in London, safely but exhausted. His father maintained a house there where he spent that night.

  Early next morning, he engaged a hackney coach to take him to the admiralty. As usual at this stage of the war, the waiting room was crowded, with standing room only for a lowly lieutenant. Surprisingly, his name was called early on, and many a captain or commander looked upon him with curiosity, as he made his way out the side door.

  He was led to a tiny dog-kennel of an office where a clerk occupied a worn desk. The clerk rose and examined him closely. Sniffing, as if he thought his guest barely meted his expectations, he informed Mullins that Lord Spenser would meet with him shortly. He was advised not to offer any advice or suggestions but merely agree to anything the First Lord said.

  Confused, Mullins stood there for minutes until the sound of a bell tinkled. The clerk beckoned him to follow and they proceeded through a hall into a larger corridor. There, a magnificently carved door was opened and Mullins was in the presence of Britain’s First Lord of the Admiralty.

  Spencer seemed to be a kindly old gentleman who wondered what Mullins wished to see him about. The clerk, standing behind Mullins, scrambled forward and whispered into Spencer’s ear.

  “Ah yes, now I remember. Sir John’s dispatches have reached us and some of us wondered about some of the actions reported. Admiral Jervis tells us that you have been a very energetic officer who may well warrant being watched more closely.”

  “We are told that a commander wishing for a desired result, may merely dispatch you and find later the mission has been accomplished with little fuss. I am curious however. I believe I know your father. He is a very politically adept person and usually gets his way with most matters.

  Since my minions can find no record of your appearing before any board to receive your commission, I wonder just how you acquired it.”

  Mullins explained how he had learned he had been promoted. He told of his former captain presenting him with the document, informing him it had come directly from the Admiralty.

  Spencer looked pensive. “Mister Mullins, I will tell you I do not like such affairs. This business will be examined in closer detail. It is the intent of this administration that all midshipmen be examined as to their qualifications before being given the King’s Commission.”
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  “In your defense however, you seem to be well above the average of those newly commissioned officers. I do hope we may find ourselves allowing you to keep this lieutenancy. Good day to you, Mister Mullins. You will be contacted shortly.”

  Chapter Five

  Required to leave an address where he could be reached, Mullins was at a loss. He knew Havoc would be likely out of commission for some time and from the sound of Lord Spencer’s words, it seemed unlikely he would be given command after her repair. For the time being, he elected to remain in his parent’s town house in London.

  Hearing nothing for a few weeks, Mullins was certain that his father’s actions had caught up with him. Convinced his career in the Royal Navy was at an end, he almost told his butler to refuse to admit a visitor in uniform. Suffering from the blue devils of late, Mullins had little interest in meeting people. When he was told the visitor was elderly and on crutches, he relented and ordered the man admitted.

  This visitor was Lieutenant Harden, wounded in the American War, years before. With the loss of his left leg, he was unemployable at sea and had been given this sinecure of a job of delivering messages for the Admiralty. He was not elderly, but did appear to be in his forties.

  Mullins offered the messenger a glass of wine to help him recover from the effects of the cold wind and damp which indicated the cold of winter was approaching. Ignoring the packet lying on the table, Mullins made casual conversation with the messenger until he was addressed once as ‘sir’ and another as ‘captain’.

  Thinking Harden was unaware of his actual status, Mullins addressed the issue. “Lieutenant, I am an unemployed lieutenant, much like yourself. Although, you do have a position whereas I do not!”

  Harden looked at him strangely. “Perhaps you will wish to read the contents of this packet. I overheard the clerks discussing the subject before it was sealed.”