Chapter 10: Corsairs

October 1807

“Sunrise in fifteen minutes, Sir,” Dougherty reported. “The extra provisions are stowed. Lieutenant Prince came aboard with that German doctor and with the extra hands for the squadron.”

Tony sighed inwardly. When he had arrived at Portsmouth two weeks ago, he had asked for a replacement for Mister Galbraith. In turn, the Admiralty had saddled him with His Serene Highness The Prince of Hohenstein, a German ruler whose principality had been sacked by Bonaparte but who was a nephew of King George. He had joined the Navy in ‘05, as a midshipman in a flush-decked sloop, the Clotho. As had to be expected, he was commissioned a lieutenant within a little over two years. It was sheer luck that Mister Sweeney had passed his exam mere days before him. As things stood, Mister Prince was the 6th Lieutenant.

The worst thing about him was the apparent need for his chamberlain to accompany the young man to all his postings. The man was rated as a ship’s surgeon, and he had served in that capacity already. In the Asia, he would be a supernumerary surgeon under Jonathan Wilkes. As the port admiral had explained, this arrangement would allow the Baron Grossmann to tend to his duties as chamberlain.

At least, Mister Prince had received excellent evaluations as midshipman, one of them from Captain Bugler whom Tony knew from the blockade of Brest. Perhaps, not all was bad about the young man.

Tony looked around; it was time.

“Kindly have the night signal “anchor up” hoisted, Mister Prince! Mister Dougherty, have a signal gun fired!”

Twelve sails were entrusted to Asia’s protection. They were all bound for Gibraltar, with provisions and arms for the garrison, but also with supplies for Collingwood’s Mediterranean Fleet and Cotton’s squadron. There was also an old fourth-rate, the York. Without her maindeck and upper deck guns, ‘armed en flute’, she served as troop transport, carrying reinforcements for Gibraltar, but also extra Marines for Sir Charles Cotton. It did not take clairvoyance to foresee landing operations.

Fortunately, the weather was clear, and Tony was already able to see his charges in the light of the approaching dawn. When the wintry sun finally showed, the signal lanterns were hauled down again, and the crew manned the stations. Under the boatswain’s supervision, the men began to turn the capstan. A minute later, Dougherty reported.

“Anchor cable is up and down, Sir.”

“Fine. Set the tops’ls. Quartermaster, as soon as you have steerage, south by southeast.”

Tony watched the transports which were in varied states of readiness. Whilst some had weighed anchor, others were obviously lagging behind, in spite of the written orders Tony had distributed the evening before. One Navy transport, the Gwendolyn, did not even show signs of life on her decks.

“Bloody lubbers!” Dougherty pressed through his teeth.

“Let’s wake him, Mister Dougherty,” Tony answered, a malicious grin on his face. “Kindly have a starboard battery gun readied. Sandbag charge.”

“Aye-aye, Sir,” Dougherty grinned back.

This was something Tony had decided to try. Captain Armitage had told the story how he, when commanding a prise, had repelled boarders by firing bags of sand from the ballast. There had been no grapeshot or canister in the ship, but the sand had shown an impressive effect. Tony expected that firing a sandbag would not cause structural damage, but make a terrible noise on impact. Whilst a gun was readied, Asia was approaching the laggard. Still, there was no sign of life. That would change soon. Asia was drawing close, and Tony heard the main deck 32-pounder being run out. A little backing of the topsails, and the Asia lost way, lying neatly alongside the transport at a pistol-shot distance.

The short blast of Tony’s battery pipe was followed by the roar of the big gun. The transport keeled over under the impact of over thirty pounds of sand against her side. With grim satisfaction, Tony saw that her paint had been sanded off in a circle six feet wide. A moment later, a dishevelled man appeared on the deck of the transport, wearing a shirt and nothing else. Tony took the speaking trumpet.

“Good morning, Captain!” he hailed. “May I invite you to join our convoy?”

All over the Asia’s deck, men were holding their sides with laughter whilst the wild-eyed master of the transport shouted at his shocked hands who had crawled from the hatches.

“I expect your report over this disgrace, Lieutenant!” Tony hailed as a parting shot.

The transports were Navy ships, commanded by Navy officers. It was an employment for officers who could not hope for promotion, for whatever reasons. Tony could guess at the reasons why Mister Malloy, the master of the Gwendolyn transport, was considered hopeless.

Harriet appeared on the deck being clearly worried. She was ready for sea, her hair in a braid, and wearing her heavy, suede leather skirt.

“What happened?”

Tony pointed at the Gwendolyn.

“A little wake-up call,” he grinned. “We tried a nine-pounder signal gun first, but sand-bagging seems to be more effective.”

Harriet looked at the transport.

“They overslept?” she asked incredulously. “Oh dear! How could that happen?”

“Look at them! They’re drunk.” Tony came to a decision. “Mister Dougherty, send Mister Sweeney with a boat crew to take over the transport. Have Mister Malloy sent over. Mister Sweeney will sail the transport to Gibraltar.”

“Mister Malloy, consider yourself under arrest for dereliction of duty. Lieutenant Sweeney will sail the Gwendolyn to Gibraltar where you will be handed over to the port admiral. Mister Dougherty, Mister Malloy will be confined to Mister Sweeney’s cabin for the journey. He is to receive no wine or spirits.”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face.

“My ship! You can’t take my ship from me!” he stammered.

“I’m afraid you leave me no choice. Repair yourself to the wardroom.”

Dougherty led the tottering man below whilst the convoy slowly began to move. Sweeney knew his business, and in short time, the Gwendolyn spread her canvas. With grim satisfaction, Tony watched as the ships of the convoy took their relative positions with painstaking accuracy.

“I believe they are warned, Sir,” Dougherty opined, not quite able to hide his grin.

Indeed, they passed the Isle of Wight in excellent order, Asia keeping a position to windward from the centre of the line. Tony had done enough convoy duty to know his business.

“If the wind doesn’t veer, we should be able to make Ushant,” he told Harriet. “Mister Prince, make signal: Asia to convoy, course west-southwest.”

A short time later, the signal flags unfolded, accompanied by another signal shot, and the convoy came to the wind.

“I shall have my breakfast now, Mister Dougherty. Kindly alert me if anything requires my attention.”

Offering his arm to Harriet, Tony went aft. In the cabin, the table was laid. Summoned by Grimm, Lucy appeared, smiling a good morning greeting. Little Emily showed up, too, as usual in Jenny’s tow. The nurse Ellie held Richard on her arm. It was almost like a breakfast at home if one discounted the rolling of the ship and the sounds of the timbers.

Little Richard would have his first birthday soon, and Ellie had to watch him as he was beginning to walk. Tony had closed and latched his desk already, fearful of the little boy pulling himself up and dousing the logbook in ink.

He had to relate the incident with the Gwendolyn for Lucy, and he saw how Jenny grinned broadly at the thought of the hard awakening the crew had when the 32-pounder sanded their ship’s side.

After breakfast, Tony returned to the quarterdeck to monitor their progress. Mister Prince still had the watch and Tony watched the young man unobtrusively. He was nervous, Tony could see, but that could be explained by the presence of his captain on the quarterdeck. He watched the convoy diligently, nevertheless, and he kept the Asia exactly where Tony wanted her.

“Signal to Caroline,” Tony ordered. “Keep position!”

“Aye-aye, Sir!”

Mister Prince snapped his fingers at the midshipman of the watch, young Mister Uxbridge, who in turn ran for the signal halliards. The boy was learning fast, and it took him less than a minute to pick the flags from the locker. Once they flew out, Tony saw with satisfaction that the Caroline transport shook out a reef to gather more speed.

For the rest of the morning, no corrections were needed. Tony had a short meal in the cabin at noon time, and when he returned to the deck, Mister Dougherty joined him.

“May I speak, Sir?”

“Yes, of course, Mister Dougherty.”

“It’s about Mister Malloy, Sir. I had a look at him, before lunch, and spoke with him. He’s about sober again, and he’s crushed, Sir. He knows this will put him on the beach for life.”

“As well it should, Mister Dougherty.”

“Yes, Sir. Certainly. Only...”

“Yes? Speak up if you know more.”

“Sir, he’s had a hard time the last days. His wife died during a stillbirth, and it’s taken the life out of him, it seems. Yesterday, he had to bury her. It would seem the crew took advantage of his state, and the watch went below to drink. He’s mortified, Sir.”

“What do you suggest, Mister Dougherty?”

“I was thinking, Sir, always assuming you can agree, we could let him go watches. I spoke with some other wardroom members, and we would keep an eye on him. He may find his balance again, Sir.”

Tony weighed that. Mister Sykes came to his mind. What if the Asia faced an enemy? Could Malloy be trusted? On the other hand, Tony did not even want to think of his own state of mind should anything happen to Harriet and Richard.

“Give him a few more hours, then send him to my cabin. Have the wardroom steward spruce him up. I’ll speak to him and then give you my decision.”

“Thank you, Sir!”

“No, thank you, Mister Dougherty, for bringing this to my attention. I should have said this before. I am very grateful for having you as my first fieutenant. I can hardly imagine a better second-in-command.”

Dougherty’s face lit up in a proud smile.

“If I may say so, Sir, I could not have found a better captain, either. I have learned quite a lot under your command.”

When Dougherty went below, Tony could see he had a spring in his step. There was something to be said in favour of encouraging subordinates! Dougherty had been a loyal first lieutenant at all times, he was even able to anticipate Tony’s decisions to a certain degree, and he showed initiative, too. Something had to be done for the man.

Tony’s thoughts turned to Mister Laughton, the 2nd Lieutenant. Tony did not know nearly enough about the man. He was meticulous in the execution of his duties, a strict disciplinarian, always on time and without overt faults. Yet, Tony thought he needed to know more about him. The same was true about Mister Chalk, the 3rd Lieutenant. Chalk was more open and he always answered eagerly when spoken to, but Tony’s knowledge of the man was superficial. Mister Eldridge, the 4th, Sweeney and Prince as Nºs five and six were even less known to him.

Tony realised that this was his own fault. He had spent too much time of his command either with his superiors or with Harriet. He had to meet the officers under his command more frequently. How could he forget that with Fanning as his commodore? This was something he had to correct, and with this resolution, he went aft to his cabin. Harriet was sitting near the stern windows, and she looked up with a smile.

“Richard is sleeping, and Emily is sitting with Jenny, trying to read a book,” she told him.

“We are very lucky to have Jenny. I shudder to think what would have happened to her had I handed her over to that Judge in Bridgetown.”

“Oh dear God, let’s not even think about that!” Harriet exclaimed. “She is to me what John Little is to you, my personal cox’n in life.”

“An apt analogy, my dear,” Tony agreed. “Would it trouble you much if we had company for dinner? I really must make an effort at getting to know my officers. I just realised that, aside from Dougherty, I only know them dimly.”

“No, my darling, far from it. Should we have three of your lieutenants for dinner, and perhaps two or three of the young gentlemen?”

She was referring to the midshipmen of course.

“If you won’t mind, that would suit me perfectly. Perhaps we can ask Mister Dougherty, Mister Chalk, and Mister Prince and let each of them pick a young gentleman?”

Harriet smiled.

“Of course, Mister Dougherty must be in the first group. What about Mister Chamberlain?”

“Grossmann. We better have him, too,” he sighed. “Jonathan and Lucy can come tomorrow. Perhaps, with four wardroom members up here, Lucy can dine with Jonathan in the wardroom tonight.”

“I’ll bring it up with her. Do you want me to organise the dinner for you?”

“That would be a great relief for me,” Tony laughed.

He stood close to Harriet and offered his hand. Harriet took it and stood, looking into his eyes.

“I am very happy to have you with me,” he said earnestly. “I missed you very much.”

“Ssh! Let’s not touch that again! We’re together again, and this time, I’ll do my damnest not to ruin it again. Let’s not extend the dinner for too long, though. I have plans for after dinner.”

Tony caught the twinkle in her eyes and he had to laugh.

“Yes, I’m definitely happy to have you with me!”

An hour later, the sentry announced Mister Malloy. What a difference the last hours had made! His outward appearance was without fault now, and he stood steady.

“Sir Anthony, I want to thank you for hearing me, Sir,” he said with a firm voice.

“Mister Malloy, Mister Dougherty has told me about your terrible loss. Obviously, I had no idea. Yet, you must see that to command a ship, even a transport, you must not let your personal sorrows affect your conduct. That may be harsh, yet many lives depend on you.”

“I see that, Sir, and I’m ashamed. I don’t drink much as a rule, Sir, and somehow, the drink got to me much stronger than I expected. I had a right headache, too, when I reported to you, and I couldn’t think or talk straight.”

Tony nodded. This was his decision. Malloy was not a ‘posted’ captain, not even a commander; he was a lieutenant in command of a Navy auxiliary. Nobody would even raise an eyebrow if he cashiered the man. Yet, what if it had been a momentary lapse? Perhaps, Dougherty suggestion had merit.

“Mister Dougherty suggested to me to allow you to do duty in my ship until you regain your balance. I am indeed willing to give you a second chance. By the way, who was your second-in-command?”

“Mister Pickwith, Sir. He’s a midshipman, but a very senior one. He’s over thirty, Sir.”

“Aha. Was he drunk, too?”

“No, Sir Anthony, not to my knowledge. He kept watch whilst I...”, Malloy took a ragged breath, “Whilst I was ashore looking after things.”

“I see,” Tony mused.

Indeed, he saw something. It was a disloyal thing to do on the part of Midshipman Pickwith not to see to it that his lieutenant woke up on time. Perhaps, there was even more to that. Then again, if the man was still a midshipman at age thirty, then perhaps he was simply inept.

“Mister Malloy, here’s what we’ll do. If you did duty in my ship, your seniority would make you third lieutenant. You will appreciate that this is out of the question. I therefore ask you to stay as a guest in the wardroom until tomorrow when you will relieve Lieutenant Sweeney. Mind you, that I’ll keep a close eye on the Gwendolyn.”

“Aye-aye, Sir! Thank you, Sir! I’ll not disappoint you, I promise.”

“I don’t have to tell you to stay away from the spirits, do I?”

“No, Sir, indeed not, Sir.”

“You may also want to watch out for that midshipman. He strikes me as either disloyal or unfit.”

Malloy nodded grimly.

“Aye-aye, Sir.”

“Well then, get rested, Mister Malloy.”

“Thank you, Sir Anthony. You’ll not rue this, I swear.”

After Malloy was gone, Harriet entered from the sleeping chamber. Without ado, she planted herself in Tony’s lap.

“I listened in. I believe you did something noble for the poor man. I hope he’ll come around.”

“So do I. Is everything set for the dinner?”

“I believe so. Are there any special considerations with regard to His Serene Highness?”

Tony could see a little devil of mischief dancing in her green eyes. How he had missed this!

“You should consult His Excellency, The Baron Grossmann, Chamberlain of His Serene Highness,” he answered drily. “Oh, Jonathan holds him for a very good surgeon. Perhaps, he can cut the roast?”

Harriet giggled and snuggled against his chest.

“I can’t wait for them to be gone again,” she whispered.

“Oh, dear. You are certainly in a mood.”

“I’ve been that way all day. Would His Serene Highness be offended by my sitting in your lap during dinner?”

“I doubt you could sit comfortably for long,” he taunted her back.

Again, Harriet giggled. “I can feel what you mean by that,” she purred.

“You two are a sight!” Lucy’s voice sounded from behind.

Harriet looked up lazily. “I missed him,” she stated by way of explanation.