william price and the thetis 14

 had a few internet problems this morning but here we are, and anyone who missed it, I posted a Dramatis Personae. It's missing one or two people but they will go in the book version. 

Chapter 14

 

“Where next, sir?” Erskine asked William, when they left the river mouth.

“North, towards the Bight of Benin, whence most slave ships come,” said William. “You know the warning rhyme?”

“Beware, beware the Bight of Benin, there’s one that comes out for forty goes in,” said Erskine. “Is it so dangerous?”

“It’s the diseases,” said William.  “Our crew is healthy, and we have a good surgeon, so we may be luckier than some, but I’d as soon not risk it. If you were thinking of cutting out slave ships at source.”

“I – no, that never crossed my mind,” said Erskine. “I understood a lot of them go up sundry rivers to take on cargo.”

“Yes, just as disease-ridden. I believe the death-toll amongst slaves and slavers alike is horrendous,” said William. “It won’t do any harm, though, on our way north, to map every channel and inlet. It will do the young gentlemen no harm to take sightings and triangulate.”

“What are they going to triangulate on?” asked Erskine.

“A known height with a baseline; or in other words, the lugger’s mainmast,” said William. “And the other half of them on the lugger using our mast, and  then comparing angles. We’ll keep to a cable’s length apart for ease of mapping. It’ll take longer to head up the coast but it may come in useful. And Mr. Prescott can take his piratical poachers out in the pinnace to look at the lie of the land in closer detail. He can make handy sketches which have more accuracy than many lads’ measured maps.”

“He’s one of the best midshipmen I’ve ever sailed with,” admitted Erskine.

 

 

William was swiftly made aware of why there were no official maps of the slave coast; though he could mark capes and bays, the mapping of river mouths was made virtually impossible by the ever-shifting mangrove swamps.

“It wasn’t such a good idea,” William admitted to his officers. “I have never encountered mangrove swamps before, and I have to say I wish I hadn’t now.  I made a mistake, but at least it’s not a costly one. We’ll continue to log capes and bays, for a rough guide, and Colin can see if he can see rivers, to at least mark their existence.”

“I don’t think anyone can imagine such scenery before having experienced it,” said Scully. “Was there no warning in your orders?”

“None whatsoever,” said William. “They spoke of slavers using isolated rivers known only to them, and that the slavers painted the tops of their masts white to be camouflaged against the sky, and the body of the ship dark green to hide against the mangroves. That’s the only reference, and I checked it today.”

“Perhaps they thought you knew, having sailed in the tropics,” said Amelia.

“That’s likely it,” said William. “Not that I ever did encounter mangrove swamps. I encountered the odd port, and had a mild case of yellow fever in one.”

“Oh, that’s good,” said Amelia. “I have heard that if you have had it, you are then immune.”

“Useful,” said William. “Pity one cannot inoculate, as with Jenner’s smallpox.”

“One probably could, if one knew what to use,” said Amelia. “If it had been recently, I might have used your blood.”

“Sir, please, sir,” said Colin, vibrating with excitement.

“Not now, midshipman,” said Pigeon.

Colin gave him a look of impatience.

“I’ve never known Mr. Prescott to interrupt without good cause, myself,” said Scully, mildly. “What is it, lad?”

“The description of a slaver ship, there’s one in that river we last passed; I wrote it in my report, but the captain hasn’t had time to look at it since I came on board,” said Colin. “Adou and I could cut the anchor cable if we swam up the river and prepare to take it under tow.”

“I’m going to veto that; Adou was telling me about crocodiles which are huge and fierce,” said William. “Otherwise, it would be a plan to work on. A small boat operation, however, might be feasible, if they don’t leave before dark.”

“Anchor in the bay,” said Pigeon.

“Ah, a good suggestion,” said William. “And thinking us to maybe have seen them on the way in, and suspicious of them, they will lurk until we are gone.”

“Except they won’t have the chance, because we will already have made off with their ship,” said Scully, rubbing his hands together.

William gave orders to come about, and anchor just out of the bay itself. He hoisted the union flag, just to make sure of being intimidating.

“Deck! Sail out at sea!” called the man on watch.

“Well, as we are being honestly us, and if coming in for slaves, not having any to dump, bend on our number and the challenge,” said William. “If slavers, they will veer away.  Quarters, please, Mr. Gubbins.”

“Or attack to help out an ally,” said Gubbins, after shouting out orders.

“But unlikely,” said William. “Even if both are slavers, the chance of one putting himself out for another is small.”

“Deck! Vessel is a Post Office packet!” called the lookout. “Acknowledging our number, identifying self.”

The package met the lugger, which William sent to greet it, taking out mail from the men.

Frid Percival looked serious when he came on board with packets of mail.

“You remember that pirate king young Colin managed to capture?” he said.

“Peter Snow? Yes,” said William. “We didn’t stay for his hanging, as you might recall, only to get your rudder fixed.”

“Well, apparently he’s free and has a crew, and a Royal Navy sloop of war,” said Frid.  “The Packet was in Gibraltar when it happened.”

“Well, damn,” said William. There was a letter to him which was in an unfamiliar but forceful hand, which he tore open.

Price, my dear boy,

I am ashamed to say that your pirate ran into some of his men from another ship, brought in for justice, and they managed to hoodwink the officer in charge of the hulk where they were being held, and escaped, swimming to a sloop of war under a young and inexperienced officer, who paid for his complacence in port with his life. The ship is named ‘Sparrowhawk,’ and we believe he has the code books intact. Be aware. I am imposing on you, wbo have fought him, the duty of capturing him, though I have sent word by this packet to other vessels they might encounter. If you have to sink her, do so rather than permit him to get away; if captured, remember to display her pennant under yours as a prize so others do not take you to be Snow.

My apologies for this unfortunate occurrence. 

Pellew.

 

William swore fluently enough to delight the heart of Mr. Lord.

“Goodness me, sir, I don’t have all those words in my notebook,” said Lord, worshipfully.

“Don’t go using them until you have at least one epaulet,” said William. “Pass the word to muster aft.”

He quickly read his sister Fanny’s letter whilst waiting for all to muster.

Dearest William,

You will be pleased to know little Edmund is doing very well, and we may expect another Happy Event. Edmund is very uxorious, bless him.  I hope that Amelia is well and does not feel that she married in haste to repent at leisure, and I still resent you making her marry you at sea to sooner enjoy your carnal lusts rather than waiting for a time when we could have had a proper wedding.  I do not see how she can feel properly married being wed over a barrel of rum by a naval officer, not a proper cleric of the Church of England. I know you said that the man was an army chaplain, but who knows what kind of a dissenter he may have been, and not a real Christian at all! Though at least he cannot have been Catholic, which would have been quite terrible. I wish you every luck in rescuing those poor slaves, however, and I hope they will go to better lives where they will receive proper religious instruction.

Your loving sister, Fanny.

 

“Oh, dear,” sighed William, passing the letter to Amelia. “Fanny always was a bit strait laced, but I fear she has become a positive prig.”

Amelia scanned it, and laughed.

“I felt properly married the moment you made me yours over the gun because that wretched cot of yours was too narrow and had its own ideas of moving about,” she said.

William blushed.

They now slept in separate cots, slung from the deck beams, but he had a down-filled mattress for the floor for not sleeping on.

 

The hands mustered aft.

“I fear I have a fisherman’s tale to tell you, which is more improbable than Walden’s very fishy mermaid story, but is, alas, perfectly true. The one that got away was Mr. Prescott’s pirate king, from the brig which should pay off all your debts. He’s taken a sloop of war, named ‘Sparrowhawk’ and I suspect he will be seeking us out for revenge. What’s more, I’ve been asked, personally, by Admiral Pellew in this letter to deal with the pirate Peter Snow for him. And he’s a good man, who feels much embarrassed to have lost the bastard on his watch, as you can imagine, so let’s make him happy by obliging him. He turned down any suggestion that he was to take any share in our prize money for the last lot we brought in; and some port admirals would have found a loophole to claim his eighth.”

The men cheered, but some looked nervous. This would likely mean actual battle, not sneaking around in the dark stealing ships, and with a war ship.

“Thirteen to eighteen guns, nine or eighteen pounders,” said Colin. “We have a dozen nine-pounders and four eighteen pounders. Unless she’s one of the most up-to-date with all large guns, it’s down to seamanship, and that means we have an advantage with the best captain in the navy.”

“Not true, but I have one of the best crews, which is what makes a captain look good,” said William. “And if she was captained by an inexperienced young man, as Pellew says, she won’t be large or as heavily armed as some.”

“We don’t want to damage ʼer too much,” said Walden.

“You’ve forgotten, Jeb; no prize money for re-taking one of our own,” said William. “Don’t calculate in that nine thousand one hundred and some pounds.”

“Nossir,” said Walden. He brightened. “Ve head money should do us nicely though,” he said. “And ve fame.” He considered. “I might even get lucky wiv the woman I fancy.”

“And who’s that, Jeb? I’d say she’s a lucky woman, and you’ll always have a home with us.”

“The widow o’ the narsty curmudgeon wot sent me to sea, Sir Basil Hicksworf. I ʼeard ʼe’d stuck ʼis spoon in the wall, an’ Lady Hicksworf ve sweetest lady wot ever stepped. Exceptin’ the Mrs. Capting o’ course. Brought us water an’ vittles’ when ʼed of let us die o’ thirst,” he added. “An’ she was scairt o’ ve big bully.”

“I see,” said William. “That’s looking high, Jeb.”

“Aye, reckon I’ll ʼave to get Taff to learn me to talk like a nob,” said Walden.

William hid a smile. As father to his crew, in some respects, he must take Jeb Walden’s love life seriously, though a young widow of the gentry was hardly likely to even look at a poacher from rural Essex.

But then, stranger things had happened. And Jeb, as a senior warrant officer, would be a wealthy man from all the prize money.

“Lads,” said William, turning from Walden back to the crew, “These pirates may be manning a warship, but listen to me.  Those of you who came from the ‘Thrush’ when I was prize captain on the little American schooner we cut out, the ‘Mosquito,’ will remember that it took the combined arms of the ‘Thrush’ and the ‘Mosquito’ to fight this very ship, under the name of ‘Nancy Beth’ to a standstill. Young Colin – I heard that, and I will not tolerate any references to the song, ‘Young Colin a-cleaving of a beam,’ the boy is thirteen, for shame on you! – Mr. Prescott, I should say, pulled the same trick on Snow in his brig that I pulled on ‘Nancy Beth’ but there was more parity of size and we carried off the sprit.  It allowed us to get away, which I am not ashamed to confess to. And we were very glad that ‘Nancy Beth’ carried only six-pounders. Both ‘Thrush’ and ‘Mosquito’ were damaged. This means that this ship can outfight a sloop of war with a tender, if properly armed and manned.”

The men cheered.

There was a sudden air of relief; a sloop was small, but packed a powerful punch, as well as being sturdily built.

“Thrush was small and not much of a compliment to Captain Mornington,” said Scully, softly.

“Aye, John, but we had Mosquito too, remember, and we had to rake ‘Nancy Beth’ to even get a chance to survive. I recall feeling bitter regret and anger that we had rescued Amelia only to get her killed, and to resolve to shoot her myself to prevent them seizing her.”

“You silly bugger,” said Scully, affectionately. “None of us doubted you for a minute over that escapade, you realise.”

“I plead having been knocked silly when the mast came down?” said William.

Scully laughed.

“Aye, it’s a good excuse,” he said.

The men relaxed more; if their officers were joking amongst themselves, there was nothing to worry about. They waited for their names to be called out for mail; most were now at least nominally literate, thanks to Thomas Stackfield running classes. Each mess had an officer or petty officer assigned, to whom to go with troubles, though many also went to Stackfield, a popular chaplain, who listened to all troubles seriously. William hoped that mail from home would not bring too many problems. There was usually one piece of news in every mailbag which would prompt a sailor to ‘run,’ or desert, to try to sort it out, or hoard his tot and get drunk, leading to a mandatory flogging. William had not yet had to flog a man, and did not want to have to start.