William Price and the Thetis 3

 

Chapter 3

 

The ship’s company was beginning to pull together with the evolutions, and seemed not to mind the hard work in the pleasure of competing mess against mess, and taking great pleasure in the simple prizes for their efforts. And William was looking for men to rate, as well, for which reason, he set each mess a problem, with no officer to help them.

He made the midshipmen address the same problem as well.

“You have run aground. The wind is mostly parallel to the coast. Your hull is unbreached. What do you do?” he said.

He gave them each an hour, then mustered all men aft to offer their answers.

These varied from the slightly optimistic idea of mustering all hands on the quarterdeck jumping up and down to Colin Prescott’s overly complex idea of using a kedge anchor to winch the ship backwards, allied with an anchor on a spring to bring her head round to take advantage of the wind and warp round. Taffy’s mess had come up with the use of a kedge anchor, moving cannon balls aft, and starting to winch as the high tide was about to become slack water. Most of the others had thought of moving weight aft, and using the high tide.

“And it’s plain all of you are better seamen than an officer I’ve known who would have abandoned ship,” said William. “Taff, your mess takes the prize for the most sensible and likely answer; and of course in a real situation, you would be taking into account what the bottom is made of, and how deep you are in mud. But I’m pleased with all of you. Mr. Prescott has given us a clever answer, but he needs to be aware that the spring will put a great deal of strain on the hull, and if it was weakened when running aground, it might spring a plank.”

Colin nodded.

“Yes, sir, I see,” he said. 

“Well, the midshipman’s berth has earned a cup of hot chocolate; eggs all round for breakfast tomorrow, and Taff, a guinea each for your mess. You’re all plainly aiming to do my job for me, and you’ll need to save up for the uniform.”

This sally was met with much laughter.

“Deck there!” called Walden, who, being counted with the officers was up aloft.  He was one of the few William would expect to buckle down and actually set a kedge anchor and make a success of kedging the ship off. “Sail fine on the larboard stern, carrying a Post Office flag, and bearing down on us.”

“Bearing down on us, Jeb, confirm?” called William.

“Bearing down, aye, cap’n!” called Walden.

“Quarters, men, and quietly about it,” said William. “Load with grape shot. Marines out of sight, stand by to repel boarders.  Heave to as they come up to us; this is a friendly encounter as far as we want to show it. Mr. Lord, up aloft with the bring-em-near, and see if you can see any more than Jeb.”

“Aye aye, sir!” squeaked little Lord, scampering up the ratlines like a squirrel with his telescope.

“Aye, sir!” it echoed through several throats as his men went to their stations like a well-oiled machine; which they now were, reflected William. The evolutions had made them into a ship, not a sailing vessel full of men. He was never tired of seeing that happen with new crews, the moment in which they knew their duty and had the training to do it.

And what if it were a legitimate post office packet, running him down with news that the pirates had already been taken? Well, then, they would stand by from action stations. His crew were disciplined, and would not attack without the order given by him, or one of his officers. Lt. Erskine might not be half as much use as young Mr. Prescott, but he knew his duty. And this would show whether Erskine was going to freeze in action. He turned to Scully.

“I put Taffy to watch Nat Erskine, Will,” said Scully, softly. “He doesn’t take advantage. And Frid Percival will step in at need.”

“You know my mind well, John,” said William. “Thanks for that. I hope Taff won’t be needed, but as you say, it’s time to find out.”

Lord slithered down the last part of the ratlines, and ran up to the quarterdeck, saluting, and almost falling over the dirk that kept getting between his legs.

“Sir, it’s the ‘John and Betsy,’ and Mr. Walden says his compliments to you, and she’s on his list from the barrators, with a Henry Feltham as the master and commander.”

“Well, that’s fairly conclusive,” said William. “Run and quietly tell the other officers, and the gun crews that the enemy is in sight, and to stand by for the order to engage the enemy more closely.”     

Lord saluted, and scampered off. Really, it should be young Seth Porkins, or his own brother, Sam, sent running errands, but Lord loved to run aloft, and could be trusted to make a full report. “Mr. Price,” said William, to his brother, “My respects to Mr. Gibbins, and be ready to come up point, and then heave to and shorten sail, and stand by to let loose all canvas on my signal.”

“Aye, sir,” said Sam.

“We’ll swing right round before the wind if you loose all sail together,” said Scully, startled.

“And cross their bow,” said William. “They’ll be close against us, but we’re the bigger ship this time, and if anyone loses a spar, it will be them.”

Scully chuckled, remembering his first voyage with William, cutting out the ‘Mosquito,’ and the daring move of taking her right under the ‘Nancy Beth’s’ bow, losing a mast to do so, from the larger ‘Nancy Beth’s’ bowsprit, which was also destroyed.  It was a risk to take, but they carried spare sprits, spars, and masts for this six-month cruise, and the ability to rake a pirate ship, which would carry a much higher compliment of men than a pure warship of similar size, could be vital, to reduce the odds.

With luck, most of the pirates would be killed by grape shot whilst boarding, but having an ace up the sleeve as well was always good.

Essentially, by coming up a point, he had made it harder for the ‘John and Betsy’ to come alongside, as she would be coming into the wind shadow of the ‘Thetis;’ and that also put her at a disadvantage. William knew the trick from having seen senior captains and admirals pull it off to discommode junior captains, especially those they did not like, making them look clumsy, and giving reasons to berate the junior. All very unfair, but then, the politics of the navy hung very much on looking good and making potential rivals look bad. And bold captains like Captain Mornington caused black jealousy to rise in the hearts of other, less able captains, and doubtless he, William, would suffer the same.

Which was why William had studied the best way to get the most from sail handling.

He knew to a whisker how to use his speed as momentum to bear down on a ship whose master was being petty, and to turn at the last minute to lay alongside without a pause, or a flog of the sails, or fouling of the yards, and without any excuse for censure.

The supposed post office packet master had not surreptitiously practised dealing with such spite, and though it could go close to the wind, it wallowed rather into position beside the ‘Thetis,’ still masquerading as the ‘Nancy Beth.’

Consequently, Henry Feltham, if it were he, was in a fine old rage over the difficulties in manoeuvring his ship into the right place, and was audibly cursing the master of the ‘Nancy Beth’ for changing direction to make him have to come up against her like that, or else go to the other side. He was quite an interesting shade of purple.

“Would you say that Captain Feltham was puce, John?” William asked Scully.

Scully considered.

“A shade too pink, I fancy,” he said. “I’d have said he was a shade somewhere between morone and pompadour, myself.”

“Ah, I knew you’d know,” said William. The seamen in earshot were grinning; they knew battle was coming, and to watch their captain and first officer banter right on the verge of battle was always comforting. Their officers were cool hands! William leaned over the rail.

“I’ve a large washing tub if you want something a bit more weatherly to sail,” he said.

Feltham bared his teeth.

“You won’t laugh in a moment,” he growled. “Up and at ʼem, boys!”

Hidden pirates emerged from what had looked like deck cargo and threw grappling hooks.

William stepped back as a sharp-shooter took aim at him.

He raised his speaking trumpet.

“Ensign, Thetis, Number sixteen, lads!” he called. Flag number sixteen, ‘Engage the Enemy more closely;’ and the order to let fly the ensign of the Royal Navy, and strike the false name plates over the name ‘Thetis.’

 The pirates were swarming up the ropes as he called out, which was unfortunate for them, since their climb brought them approximately in line with the cannon as the gun ports opened, and the guns coughed their deadly vomit of musket balls in bags. They were a bit more spread out than had been the pirates who had tried to take the ‘Endeavour,’ but it was still effective. William nodded permission for Ziv Stark to take his men and sundry volunteers onto the ‘John and Betsy,’ and waited on the quarterdeck.

He considered it a far from enviable position when he could be fighting alongside his shipmates, but he ceded the leading of the seamen to Scully, as a captain must. And though some thought rank held the privilege of remaining on the quarterdeck without joining in the fighting, it was no privilege in William’s opinion, but an irksome duty.

He found himself engaging in battle, nevertheless, as several of the pirates made for the quarterdeck. He was close-pressed by a man with a cutlass, when his opponent’s mouth suddenly erupted in blood, with a sharp point coming out of his mouth and perilously close to William before crumpling to the deck. Behind him was Ado’s grinning face; he appeared to have made himself a number of spears for throwing. His accuracy and strength made this a better weapon for him than a service firearm, and William nodded his gratitude.

“No more bother the cap’n,” said Ado, happily.

William thought Ado might be under the impression that these pirates were slavers, too; not that there was much to pick between them. Ado was looking forward to killing slavers.

The trap was sprung, and though there were some casualties for Amelia to deal with on the orlop deck, well-lit now with the masses of wax candles she had bought, but there had been no real hitch as far as William could see. The fighting was diminishing, and most of the bodies seemed to be the enemy.

He would call for the butcher’s bill when all was secured, and find out whom he had lost, all the names on a ship this small being faces, and some knowledge about them to him. It was the part William always hated, and the bile settled cold and heavy in his belly at the thought of how many he might have lost. Especially any of those who were dear to him.

And Scully was yelling for Frid. What, had the ‘John and Betsy’ managed to hole them? He had heard a single gun…. Frid was in sight, still looking far too expensive for the navy, and disappearing below on the ‘John and Betsy.’ Had Colin got over-excited, and fired a roundshot at them? Now little Seth Porkins was running up to him, and saluting.

“Mr. Scully’s compliments, captain, but the damned pirate put a ball in his own ship,” piped Porkins. “Mr. Scully says that Mr. Percival had better fix it or he’ll send him home to get married, sir.”

William laughed.

Scully had a good idea of what was fixable, and what was not, and he would not joke if it were not. Ah, and now Scully was manhandling Henry Feltham on board; he would live to hang. Which William might do summarily, but it would be more politic to send him back to stand trial.  Which was a nuisance, because that would mean sending the ‘John and Betsy’ back to England, losing one of his officers, and too many of his crew, who would be needed to both overwhelm, and, too, man slavers, to get the slaves to safety in Sierra Leone. He had been teased by a few of the other captains in Portsmouth about being overmanned, for having asked Amelia to buy out the debts of those in prison for debt, but he was not overmanned at all. With luck, some of the slaves would volunteer. It was said that many did so, rather than be stranded in a strange land, albeit free there, in the colony Great Britain had set up for the purpose. After all, it was no point sending them home; most had been taken from their homes already, and the king of Dahomey was resistant to ceasing the lucrative slave trade on which his kingdom’s wealth was built.

Funny what strange trivia went through the mind, thought William, as he came face to face with the purple little man.

“It’s a shade more puce now, sir, I think,” ventured Scully, breaking William out of his fugue.

“Indeed, a most unhealthy shade,” said William. “I discourage my wife from wearing the colour, singularly unflattering.”

“Damn you! Take me seriously, you bastard!” shouted Feltham.

“Goodness! He looks puce, but he sounds vermillion,” said William. “Is he about to have an apoplexy?”

“I don’t know sir; couldn’t happen to a nicer person, though,” said Scully. “I thought you’d want him alive to question about other pirates and barrators.”

“I’m not going to talk, damn you, you curly-haired baby-faced loon!” spluttered Feltham. “And you’ll have none of the prize of ‘John and Betsy’ for I’ve scuttled her.”

“Put him in irons in the brig of the ‘John and Betsy,’ with a volunteer to call through the grating to see when he wants to talk as the water rises,” said William.

“Aye, sir,” said Scully. “Mr. Stark! Take the prisoner below decks in the prize.”

Ziv Stark smirked as he removed the suddenly sweating puce prisoner, babbling expletives, to which young Mr. Lord was listening ecstatically.

“It ain’t going to sink,” said Scully. “Frid took one look at the hole and told me a one-armed landsman unbreeched could fix it. He was showing Mr. Porkins how to do it, and the child was teaching him verses of ‘Leave her, Johnnie,’ that I did not know. But there’s no reason we should not pour some water under the door of the brig.”

“Very good; carry on,” said William.