Dead Reckoning (34 page)

“They should have seen us first,” replied Topley, “silhouetted against the sunrise. They will not have seen us last night and we had only a glimpse of them.”

“When shall we catch up with them?”

“By this evening at this rate but I fancy they will back their topsails and give battle. They have no hope now of watering before the action and they would most likely prefer to fight in daylight.”

“Why, sir?”

“A night action favours the better-disciplined crew.”

“And that, sir, we certainly are! We have been taught to do it right! But how do we know that they have not been as well trained?”

“The
Clorinde
is a fairly new frigate, straight from her home port, and has never been in battle. She was sent out to reinforce the French squadron at Mauritius. She finds Port Louis in our hands, her campaign over before it has begun. Morale will be low from a sense of wasted effort. As against that, they have two fully manned frigates to our one. They will also suppose that we are depleted and worn out after years in the Indies. And that is
where they will be wrong. Through having a clever captain we are very well manned indeed—with three more men at the last moment! I doubted at first whether those men embarked at Mauritius would be any good. They were sulky when first allowed on deck but changed their attitude after the sulkiest of them had received a dozen lashes. They have worked well since then.”

The French were soon seen to have backed their topsails but the wind was light and it took the whole morning to come up with them. Delancey sent his crew to dinner rather ahead of time and did not clear for action until after they had finished their grog. The wind was north-easterly as was to be expected at the time of year, the day was fine, and the sun was hot. The French frigates seemed to be in very good order, the
Fidèle
in the lead as Delancey had expected. The
Minerva
was on a course which would overtake them to windward. Delancey sent for his officers and told them what he planned to do:

“I shall attack their leading ship at an oblique angle without replying to the
Clorinde
's first broadside. At about a cable's distance we shall fire our larboard guns into the
Fidèle
's rigging with bar-shot, chain-shot, and langridge. My hope is that we can then pass ahead of the
Fidèle
and manoeuvre so as to fire our starboard battery into her from a position athwart her hawse, using ordinary shot and firing low. With the
Fidèle
crippled, we can then deal with the
Clorinde.
To your stations, gentlemen—and good luck! Mr Northmore, beat to quarters!”

With the drum beating to the rhythm of “Hearts of Oak” the seamen ran to their guns, the marines fell in on the quarter-deck, the powder-monkeys hurried to the magazine, and the marksmen climbed to the fighting tops. When the drum stopped beating there was complete silence save for the creaking of ropes and the occasional flap of the sails. From the French ships came
the distant sound of a band playing “La Marseillaise” followed by the noise of cheering. Delancey made his round of the gun-deck, having a word with each gun-captain and saying something to encourage those of the youngsters who looked most scared. “Speed is no good,” he repeated, “without accurate aim.”—“Every shot must find its mark. Don't shoot for the sake of making a noise.”—“Wait for the order to fire.”—“Remember the drill—if you make a mistake you can burst the gun, killing yourself and your mates.”—“Do it fast but do it right!”—“You can't hide from the enemy's fire, so kill them and their fire will cease!” He was glad to see that the men were cheerful and confident, more certain of victory than he was. Now he was back on the quarter-deck, attended by the master and young Lewis as A.D.C. There was perhaps a quarter of an hour to go before the action would be joined. Watching the French, Delancey told himself that the probable climax of his career had been reached. Over the next few hours his reputation would be made or ruined. About him were the officers and men who might pay with their lives for any mistake he might make; and mistakes, God knew, were possible enough. How long had it been, however, since he went to sea! A lifetime ago he had been a captain's clerk, then a midshipman, and gained his commission at the Siege of Gibraltar. He had at one time commanded a revenue cutter, later a privateer, then a sloop. For years he had been learning his trade and now he was going to be put to the test. Good luck—and a little cunning—had placed him in command of a fast and powerful frigate. More luck and cunning had given him a sufficient crew and gunpowder to spare for practice. And now the moment was coming, had nearly come, when he and his men would be put to the proof.

The
Minerva
was on course for a point just ahead of the
Fidèle.
As she closed the distance the
Clorinde
fired a first shot so as to try the range. It fell short, as Delancey knew it would, and there was silence for another few minutes. Then, as he watched tensely, Delancey saw the whole position alter. Following some previously concerted plan, the
Fidèle
changed course slightly and backed her topsails. The effect was to place her to leeward of the
Clorinde,
practically on her larboard beam, and she made sail again as soon as the manoeuvre was complete. The
Clorinde
was thus between the
Minerva
and the
Fidèle
and Delancey's opening move had been thwarted. Or had it? On second thoughts, Delancey considered that the French move had been a mistake. The line abreast was a bad formation, as they would soon realize.

“We'll hold our present course, Mr Ragley, and attempt to cross the
Clorinde
's hawse at about a cable's distance.”

“We could go closer than that, sir.”

“I know, but I need a longer range to allow the canister to spread. Hold it as she goes. Mr Lewis, my compliments to Mr Topley and ask him to reload after discharge with the same type of ammunition. After firing at the
Clorinde
's rigging I mean to give the
Fidèle
the same treatment.”

As Lewis ran off the
Clorinde
fired her broadside and it was at once obvious that her gunnery was quite creditable. The
Minerva
reeled slightly under the impact of a dozen hits, a boat being smashed amidships and several men wounded at one of the forward guns. Having done the drill a score of times the gun's crew renumbered and the second gun-captain took the place of the first, who had been wounded.

Delancey ignored the
Clorinde
and held his course, with the range shortening and the French guns firing with greater effect. A second broadside did far more damage, dismounting Number
Seven Gun and wounding the foremast, causing five more casualties and tearing holes in the foretopsail. Delancey had decided upon this plan of holding his fire but he wondered now whether he was right to ask it of his men. Not being under fire, the French were aiming as at target practice . . . He could not change his mind now but he would be in trouble if a mast went. The chances were against it and the risk was one he could accept . . . but disaster might strike at any minute. He might himself be killed, if it came to that.

The French fired their third broadside, the
Clorinde
momentarily enveloped in smoke and the
Minerva
was now hit repeatedly, with another gun dismounted and a fire started—but quickly extinguished—at the break of the forecastle. Sails were hanging in tatters, several marines had been wounded, and a quartermaster killed at the helm. It was at this moment that the captain of the
Clorinde
perceived his mistake. With the
Minerva
heading to cross his bows, he would ordinarily have given the order to wear ship so as to confront the
Minerva
with his broadside, but to wear, in the present situation, would bring the
Clorinde
into collision with the
Fidèle.
If he tried to tack, on the other hand, he would be raked by the
Minerva
and separated from his consort. After one more broadside, the most damaging of any yet, the
Minerva
was clear of the enemy's arc of fire.

From the quarter-deck Delancey could see the Frenchmen clearly and wondered what their senior captain meant to do. And now the
Minerva
was crossing the
Clorinde
's bows. Each gun fired in turn with high elevation, sending a storm of iron through the
Clorinde
's rigging. Canister ripped through her sails, whirling chain-shot cut through ropes, and bar-shot chipped her spars and boom. Hardly any reply was possible and the British gunners did not waste a shot. In that raking position each projectile
had a triple chance of doing damage, the shot which missed the foremast could still hit the main or the mizen. Unlike the
Clorinde
the
Fidèle
had space to wear and was now attempting to do so but the
Minerva
was crossing her bows before she could alter course. A storm of iron ripped through her sails and rigging and a further broadside followed before she was able to reply. Almost at the same instant the
Clorinde,
from a rather greater distance, poured her broadside into the
Minerva
's stern. There was serious damage between decks, with a number of men killed and wounded. Mr Ragley fell at Delancey's side and was taken below, his place being taken by the boatswain. The marine sergeant was killed and a gun put out of action in the starboard battery.

The
Minerva
and
Fidèle
were now sailing away from the
Clorinde,
which ceased fire in order to wear ship, but the
Minerva
soon drew ahead of her opponent, allowing Delancey to cross the
Fidèle
's bows again and fire once more into her rigging. Persistence now achieved the desired result, the
Fidèle
losing her foretopmast. As the
Fidèle
turned away the
Minerva
engaged her, broadside to broadside, and Delancey had, for the time being, placed the
Fidèle
between the
Minerva
and the
Clorinde.
His gunners now fired round shot and fired low. Results were immediate and the
Fidèle
's mizenmast went over the side. As the
Clorinde
approached, Delancey broke off the engagement and drew away, hoping that the
Clorinde
would follow. But the captain of the
Clorinde
was no fool. He hove-to on the windward side of the crippled
Fidèle,
evidently resolved that his two ships must stay together.

Delancey now made a quick round of the ship, making much the same speech to different groups of sailors and marines:

“Listen, men. There are two enemy ships and we have crippled the smaller of them. It cost us lives and men wounded but
it couldn't be helped. The damage we have done to the smaller frigate should prevent her escaping while we deal with the other one. It also makes it difficult for her to go to the other's help. So we shall attack again now before they have time to finish their knots and splices. Fire quickly but make every shot go home!”

Renewing the engagement, Delancey placed the
Minerva
against the
Clorinde,
broadside to broadside at a cable's distance, thus ensuring that the one frigate would mask the fire of the other. All hell broke loose in an instant as the two batteries thundered. The two ships were sufficiently near to each other for Delancey to distinguish the captain of the
Clorinde,
who seemed to be an active officer, hurrying round to encourage his gunners and making warlike gestures with a drawn sword. Delancey's own sword remained in its sheath and he wondered for a moment why portraits of admirals so often showed them posed, sword in hand, against a background of furious carronade. Why draw sword against opponents seen to be a quarter of a mile distant? Putting the thought from him, he turned to watch what damage his guns were doing. They were firing steadily into the
Clorinde
and seldom going wide or over. He could see the splinters fly from a gun-port, a quarter-gallery smashed in, an empty port where a gun had been, a trail of smoke from some part of the forecastle. The
Minerva,
however, was taking punishment too and the
Clorinde
was adding musketry to the volume of her fire, although at too great a distance to be effective. It certainly looked, though, as if some infantry were added to her normal complement. Some of her cannon were firing wild and high and it might be guessed that her gun crews were forgetting the drill. Other guns were firing well, for all that, and the damage was mounting. One shot smashed the cabin skylight, sending a splinter into the boatswain's thigh. The boatswain was sent below, his place
being taken by John Cumner, boatswain's mate, and Delancey wondered how many men had already been lost. More to the point, what sign was there of the
Fidèle?

“Mr Lewis—take a telescope to the mizen-top and tell me where that other frigate is—you should be able to see her topmast above the smoke.” The midshipman was back in a flash, with a report that she was moving slowly and was now on the
Clorinde
's larboard bow.

“Well done, Mr Lewis. She means to take up a raking position—but I have a mind to give her an unpleasant surprise! Mr Cumner, make more sail! Set the topgallants and forecourse!”

The opponents had so far been in the normal order of fighting under topsails, mizen, and jib, and the effect of the additional canvas was to make the
Minerva
draw ahead of the
Clorinde.
There was wild cheering from the French side and the sound of cannon fire gradually died away. As the smoke slowly blew aside, the
Minerva
was seen to be heading for a position across the
Fidèle
's bows. The breeze was becoming fitful, the movement on either side was slow, and the
Fidèle
could in the ordinary way have changed course so as to present her broadside to the
Minerva.
But her seamen were hampered by the damage to her rigging. They had cut away the tangled mizen but she was still difficult to handle and her head had only been pulled round by the efforts of her launch. The same boat, joined now by another, was now trying to undo the work it had done but there was no time for this effort to succeed. Worse, the two boats were both sunk by the
Minerva
's bow-chasers, presenting the
Fidèle
with an impossible situation, her rescue attempts complicating her now feeble effort to avoid the coming enfilade.