HMS Aphrodite (Sea Command Book 1) (11 page)

Now to windward of both fleets, the ship-sloop found herself more or less in the open, save for a small 28 gun Spanish frigate, probably tasked with repeating duties as was Aphrodite.

As the relieved crew of the ship-sloop watched the second-rate disappear into the fray, the frigate tacked and came toward her stern. Concerned with being raked, Mullins ordered a turn to starboard to bring his broadside to bear.

He had no wish to engage this stronger opponent, when he had orders to evade combat and tend to repeating signals.

This fellow was not going to oblige though, so as soon as his ports were open, Mullins gave the order to fire. The guns very nearly fired as one, and the resulting damage aboard the Spanish frigate was impressive. Surprisingly, the frigate fired not a single shot in reply, although she had been in perfect position. Some of her ports had never opened.

With no time to meditate on the reasons for this behavior, Mullins ordered the firing to continue, although with half charges now, and a charge of grape on top of ball. With her starboard beam being beaten to ruin, the frigate managed to fire two guns of her broadside, receiving another devastating broadside in exchange. She was unable to stand this and wore away, avoiding combat.

His blood up now, Mullins followed her around, continuing to fire, although now the devastating broadsides were rarely delivered. Instead, individual guns delivered their messages when they bore on the target.

The frigate was able now to get more of her guns in action and the matter turned into a slugging match. Although the frigate had been badly damaged in the opening minutes of the action and many of her guns knocked out, she still had nearly as many operational as Aphrodite.

Close in now on the enemy’s quarter, Mullins ordered the guns to change to grape and canister rounds. Several charges of this murderous ammunition arriving on the enemy quarterdeck immediately wiped out the command staff there. In the face of incessant charges of grape pummeling the frigate, a panicked crewman slashed the halyard to the tricolor with his knife and her colors came down.

It was a few moments before that crew realized their ship had, in effect, surrendered and firing began to die down.

As both sides became aware of the surrender, a Spanish third-rate, turning out of line with a damaged mizzen and a main about to fall, interposed herself between the pair and prevented Mullins from sending a crew to take possession of the prize.

In the meantime, he saw that his crew of signal men were busily engaged in their duties. Looking at one of his mids busily recording signals, he noted this lad was recording Victory’s signal to another ship to ‘Engage the enemy more closely.’

As he watched the lad move to the next signal from Victory, he saw, ‘Congratulations to Aphrodite on her victory’.

Probably irritated by her own wounds and the little ship-sloop’s victory over a Spanish frigate, the crippled third-rate fired off a pair of aftermost lower deck thirty-two pounder guns from her starboard battery. These guns were at the limits of traverse, and one shot missed entirely, while the other took a massive chunk from Mullin’s own quarter gallery.

Vexed with the ruin of his private seat of ease, Mullins brought his ship to the rear of the enemy and began to pump broadsides into the enemy’s unprotected stern.

Her rudder was the first to suffer, then the liner’s mizzen, already wounded, fell when Aphrodite’s grape charges severed the stay’s and shrouds holding the mast upright. When it fell, Mullins decided it was time to clear the area. He had committed the unpardonable sin, firing upon a capital ship. Any members of that ship’s fleet would show no compunction about smashing the little ship to splinters.

Aphrodite’s activities had not gone unobserved among the enemy and she was now attracting fire from other ships of that fleet. HMS Victory came to the rescue when she ordered, “Discontinue the action. Scout in the rear of the fleet. Retrieve any survivors found.”

Aphrodite disengaged herself and made her way out of the battle area and found herself in the rear. Wreckage was everywhere, floating on the sea, and much of that debris supported one or more seamen, sometimes Spanish, sometimes British, sometimes living, sometimes not.

His own crew sadly depleted from battle casualties, he nevertheless manned the few seaworthy boats remaining and began to rescue survivors. The Spaniards he found that seemed healthy, he stowed in a floating launch they happened upon. Towed behind the ship, the enemy crewmen were relatively safe and not likely to be in a position to cause trouble.

British seamen were brought aboard, and the healthy ones, after a little rest, were put to use manning boats to save others. The injured of both nations were sent below to face the tender mercies of the surgeon. By nightfall, the ship was as full of people as peas in a bag, but enough healthy seamen were present to fully man the ship.

That evening HMS Niger happened upon them. Much had happened since they had initially spotted the Spanish fleet the previous day. Niger had rescued her share of survivors, but still had room aboard, so her captain kindly accepted some of Aphrodite’s catch and promised to deliver them to the fleet.

The ships then separated and Aphrodite resumed her task of searching for survivors. As night fell, fewer men were found alive, and the search was soon suspended as useless. At two bells in the middle watch, the midshipman of the watch came to the captain’s sleeping compartment. Mullins, on his feet all day, had just retired, but the argument between the mid and the Army sentry outside his door brought him to his feet.

The mid reported the deck watch had sighted lights ahead and it was believed they were on a possible enemy ship. Mullins went out on deck and examined the situation through the deck officer’s night glass. Something ahead was supporting four or five lanterns, perhaps a wounded ship making repairs in the dark. At that moment, the only light showing aboard Aphrodite was the binnacle light, which Mullins immediately ordered extinguished.

The ship was still at action stations, with all guns loaded and ready. Extra guards were placed on the enemy prisoners and ship repairs were suspended. Under her tops’ls, the ship-sloop slowly closed on the enemy. As she slowly neared, there was enough light available to identify the quarry as a much beaten-upon French third rate. Her rudder was gone, and the stern galleries had been smashed in.

All three of her masts had gone overboard and the rhythmic clanking of her pumps was apparent. She was low in the water, with the lower gun ports barely above the surface. Aphrodite moved around to her stern, where it was seen her whole port quarter had been savagely mauled.

As the sun came over the horizon, at first no one on the wrecked ship noticed the little ship-sloop. A boat was in the water, attempting to tow one of the liner’s old masts back to the ship, apparently with the object of salvaging it for jury repairs. How they intended to get the massive timber aboard, Mullins had no idea.

Then Aphrodite was sighted. Although she was close aboard the big third-rate, there was no gun aboard the big liner that would immediately bear on Aphrodite. A party of men began a desultory musket fire upon the British ship. By now, Gridley, the Marine lieutenant commanding the Marine and Army troops aboard had formed his men up and asked permission to fire. Mullins hoped to save the liner and bring her back home. If he opened on her with his big guns, she might well sink. Perhaps a few volleys would induce them to lower their colors. At once, the regular crashing volleys from the troops’ muskets began their work, at the rate of three volleys a minute.

At first, this seemed useless. The target was at really long musket range and Mullins hated to come closer for fear of having his own men injured from return fire. Finally, a gunner’s mate approached the captain and suggested they try some canister on the target.

Mullins at once approved the trial. This ammunition consisted of cans of musket balls which would be fired from the ship’s long guns. Upon emergence from the guns’ muzzles, the cans would open and the musket balls would proceed like a charge of duck shot toward the target, at a speed of nearly a thousand feet in a second. Much of this ammunition had been expended during their previous action, but enough remained to entertain the enemy.

This tempest of shot slowed the return musket fire from the enemy but she showed no sign of surrender. Mullins was tempted to just sink the beast, but the large opening smashed above the waterline in her stern gave him an idea.

With the extra men he had on board from his rescue duty, he thought he could lead over a hundred boarders onto the liner and still leave sufficient hands aboard his ship. The men and their arms dropped down into the boats. Musketmen at the enemy taffrail tried to engage the boats with fire, but a few blasts of canister took that idea from their minds.

Mullins was one of the first to board the enemy through the large hole that had been blasted into her stern. He carried a double-barreled Manton in his left hand with a brace of issue Sea Pattern pistols in his sash. In his right hand he carried his ornate Reeves sword made in Birmingham.

When a half dozen Spaniards contested his entrance, one of his bargemen, Dan Harris, a most powerful seaman, forged ahead with a slashing cutlass attack. When the defenders began to overpower the seaman, Mullins, firing with his left hand, put a ball from the Manton into a defender’s face. He wounded another with the second ball from the pistol then dropped the weapon to the deck and went on with his sword.

More of his men were swarming into the crowded space which proved to be the remains of the ship’s wardroom. As they surged upward toward the quarterdeck, the defenders began throwing down their arms. On deck, the surviving enemy seamen fought only in a desultory manner. When young Mister Raynor began shouting in Spanish to the enemy crewmen, telling them falsely the ship had surrendered, most threw down their weapons and sat down on the deck.

When the last enemy crewman was subdued, the Aphrodites were unable to rest. An enormous amount of work was yet to be done.

All available hands were put to work securing the ship, attempting to stop the influx of water. The surviving Spanish seamen were mostly exhausted by their struggle and unable to do much work, so the captives aboard Aphrodite were brought to the liner and put to work on the pumps. As the carpenters’ crews, both British and Spanish, stopped more leaks, it was now possible to stay ahead of the leakage.

Later in the day, the crew managed to pass a towing cable to the huge battle ship and begin the struggle to move her. The big ship was an almost impossible tow, since she had no rudder. The old mizzen mast, which had fallen overboard, was retrieved and one end was secured to the ship’s stern. Lines from the after end of the floating mast were brought aboard and used to move the mast from side to side to make slight course changes.

By dawn of the next day, the tow was under a little control and they were making slow progress toward the mouth of Portugal’s Tagus River, where Mullins hoped to find some of Jervis’ fleet. As they plodded eastward, tops’ls were seen approaching from the north. One of these was HMS Orion, 74, Captain Saumarez. Saumarez immediately took charge, passing the tow to a big frigate and calling Mullins aboard for his report.

On the verge of collapse, Mullins made his way up Orion’s side and was led into the great cabin. He actually fell asleep while awaiting Saumarez. Unable to stay awake for the celebration meal that was laid on for him, he was put into the second officer’s bed and allowed to sleep for the remainder of the day. Aphrodite was then relieved of her duties and ordered to return to the fleet.

Back with the fleet, Aphrodite resumed her routine patrolling duties, with her crew occupying much of their time repairing battle damage. Soon, the fleet set sail for Spithead, arriving there at the end of March. Following the defeat of the Spanish fleet on St. Valentine’s Day, the elation aboard ship turned to despair among many, when the red flags of revolution were seen flying from the tops of the ships in harbor.

The crew of the ships at that anchorage had revolted against naval authority in mid-April and taken over the ships. Many officers were sent on shore by the mutineers.

Ship’s boats were seen putting out from the mutinous fleet, visiting each arriving vessel. As Aphrodite anchored, a nearby third-rate ran out a few of her broadside guns. This was the first time Mullins had been threatened by British guns. After mooring, a ship’s launch hooked on to her main-chains and a party swarmed up, a young midshipman at their head, waving a sail cloth packet. Mullins shouted down that only the mid would be allowed to board.

The cox’n of the boat replied, “Cap’n, yer honor. Do you note that 74 with her guns run out?  If you harm any of us, she will blow you all to perdition. Now, Mister Davis here has a package for you. Maybe you should look at it.”

By the time he finished his address, the boat’s party was aboard Aphrodite, standing in the waist with the mid approaching the quarterdeck with the packet in his hand.

Taking it from the lad, Mullins noted the line holding the wrapping closed had been slashed. Looking questioningly at the lad, the midshipman stuttered that the hands had taken the packet from him, read it, then told him to deliver it.

There were several messages in the packet, the most relevant telling him the fleet anchored at Spithead was in a state of mutiny. If he was able, he should set sail for the Dutch coast and join the blockading fleet off the Texel. If his ship was no longer under command, he had permission to leave the ship with his officers, then to post to London and report to the Admiralty.

Mullins looked around, His Army guards were still loyal and had their muskets trained on the arriving mutinous delegates. He could see two massive sail of the line with their guns run out, and believed if he used force against these people, his ship and crew would be lost to their fire.

Therefore, hoping to avoid an accident, he ordered the soldiers to ground their muskets and stack their arms. Facing the grinning cox’n, he asked what about their demands.

“Captain, that does not concern you. You and your officers will get into a boat now and go ashore. You will have to pull yourselves over. None of us will lose a drop of sweat to deliver you.”

The boat was overcrowded as it made its way to safety. Most of the warrants accompanied their captain, although the carpenter had noted an old friend among the delegation of mutineers and listened to his arguments. He had the grace to apologize to Captain Mullins and said he was joining the mutineers. He asked that his actions should not be held against him. The carpenter was reminded he was joining a mutiny against the King and must be prepared to face any consequences, the least serious being the loss of his warrant.

Once ashore, he went to the admiral’s shore office and reported on what was known of the mutiny. Admiral Radke told him to take rooms nearby and inform a member of his staff where he might be staying.

Giving his officers the contents of his purse to sustain them for a while, he visited his banker’s office. Since his people had been forced to leave the ship with what they had on their persons when ordered off, many had left their funds aboard Aphrodite, where everything had, by now, probably been looted.

He found that several more of his prizes had been adjudicated and his prize agent had deposited the resulting funds. Unfortunately, the banker informed him he could not advance any gold or silver coin. For the time being, paper currency was the coin of the realm! The banker was indignant over the vast quantities of gold being sent to the Austrians to persuade them to keep an army in the field for another season.

Returning to the inn where he had left his people, he distributed the paper funds to all who were struggling financially, then caught the coach to London. For days he haunted the Admiralty, hoping to get an idea of what the Royal Navy was planning to do about the mutiny.

Privately, Mullins was sympathetic to the mutineers. Many of them had suffered serious privations because of the refusal of Parliament to allow them a decent wage, paid promptly. H
owever, he was a King’s officer and the country was at war. This was no time to immobilize an entire fleet.

With no one willing to discuss this matter with a lowly commander, he returned to Portsmouth. Some of his people had left, but other officers from other ships had taken rooms, finding it an inexpensive place for an unemployed junior officer to stay.

One evening, Mullins and another officer were standing down by the sea looking out at the moored fleet. Most of the ships were lit up and those nearby were plainly visible. Aphrodite was one of the closer ships and seemed to be in good order. At least the mutineers were maintaining the ships properly.

A bit of a gale was whipping up, and storm clouds had moved in. As the rains came, and visibility dropped, Mullin s and his friend went back to the inn. Before going inside, he glanced at the wind gauge on the inn’s roof. It reminded him the strong wind was trying to push the moored ships right out to sea. He thought to himself, if it were not for this confounded mutiny, the fleet could almost sail by itself, in such a wind.

Inside now, someone pressed a drink in his hand.
He stood in a corner reflecting, recalling the orders that had arrived just prior to his being expelled from his ship. If he could have kept command of his ship, he would have followed the orders to proceed to sea and sail for the Dutch coast. If only he could get his ship back, he could cut his cable and be at sea in minutes.

With this thought in his head, the door of the inn slammed as two officers returned from a visit to the necessary. One of them, while slapping the water from his hat, announced, “Lads, it’s raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock. You can’t see your hand in front of your face!”

Now the thoughts he had been having bloomed into being. He knew what he had to do. Mullins went to the bar and climbed onto a shaky stool.

“Gentlemen”, he shouted.

With no one paying the slightest attention to him, he tried shouting again. “Gentlemen, I have an idea which may put us on a ship and out to sea.”

A drunken lieutenant nearby assured him he had an idea on how to make pigs fly. After more persuasion, he influenced three officers to sit at table and talk.

“Gentlemen, my ship Aphrodite is as close to shore as any of the fleet. I marked her position before this storm came along. I am sure I could lead a few boats to her side. In this weather, we would be invisible for much of our way out to the ship. Anyway, I doubt if a good anchor watch is being kept. Few hands, without a stern officer breathing down his back will want to keep a good lookout in this kind of weather.”

One of the officers, whose name Mullins just recalled, was Daniels, wondered what they would do when aboard. “Those third rates nearby would sink us if we tried to get to sea.”

“Mister Daniels”, Mullins replied. “They could sink us, if they could see us. I doubt they could in this kind of weather.”

“As I see it, we would only have to get aboard, secure the anchor watch, and prevent the hands below from coming up.”

“If we cut the cable immediately, the wind would begin to push us out to sea in a minute. We could hoist some head sails and put someone at the wheel. I know most of the men on board are not thoroughly behind this mutiny. They only went along when they thought there was no choice.”

Another officer at the table wondered what was in it for them. As he saw it, there was an excellent chance for one to have his guts spilled out on deck!”

Daniels voiced his thoughts. “We spend our careers trying to get notice so we can rise. I myself am married with a family. I need to get off half-pay and hopefully be promoted. I think this would be an excellent way to be noticed. Of course, none of us are likely to be promoted, but we should all get ships after this, if we can get this one back from the mutineers.

As the discussion intensified, bystanders began gathering, listening. One went to the door and looked outside. Upon returning, he announced, “If we are going to do this, we had best do it now, before this rain lets up!”

The plan began to take life of its own, as men gathered, adjusting their swords and wondering where they could find a pair of pistols. It was a motley crew of men Mullins found himself leading to the quay in the pouring rain. He knew some were already having second thoughts, the rain sobering them up.

A ship’s launch lay abandoned on the beach, left there by a crew absconding from their ship in the early days of the mutiny. Now half full of rainwater, it had to be hurriedly bailed and oars located. A fisherman’s dory was close by, which would hold those unable to get into the launch.

Mullins was becoming disillusioned by the sight and actions of the men. Although most of them were officers, supposedly intelligent enough to understand what they were about, they were also half drunk, noisily arguing with each other and taking offence at imagined slights. The drenched men appeared to be a very pitiful and bedraggled assault force.

At length, they were launched and heading for the hoped-for location of Aphrodite. For a moment, the rain subsided enough to see the ship, now darkened and apparently asleep. Anxiously waiting for the hail of the ship’s anchor watch, the officers were relieved when the clouds opened again and poured water down on them with a vengeance.

Mullins sat at the tiller, navigating by compass until a whisper came down the crowded thwarts. “Ship ahead!”

There she lay, half hidden by the rain. As the bowman hooked on at the main-chains, it was seen the man-ropes had been taken in. One of the youngsters aboard, a midshipman, edged his way to the boat’s gunnel and eased himself onto a batten. Climbing the slippery steps, without the security of man-ropes, he made it through the entry port. A moment later, first one coil of line was lowered down, followed by a second. The officers in the boats, while perhaps a little drunk, were still seamen and came up hand over hand.

While gathering in the waist, Mullins made his way forward. There, he found a seaman ensconced upon a folded sail, with another piece of sailcloth on top, partially shielding him from the rain. He was snoring away peacefully under canvas in a storm. Holding the blade of his sword at the man’s chin, he kicked his body.

The seaman came awake with a start and a sputter, sitting up as he saw what he was facing.

“Cap’n Mullins”, he whispered. “I’m not with the mutineers. I do what they tell me to or they will tip me over the side.”

With an effort, the ship’s captain remembered the man. Arnold was one of the few landsmen aboard who had been employed to man the braces to haul the big yards around.

Mullins quieted the man and gave him to some of his men who had come forward. “Looks like this man was the anchor watch”, Mullins remarked. “Let’s cut the cable, get some sail on her and get her out to sea.

Placing armed men by the closed hatches to prevent the mutineers from swarming them from below, someone found the axe where the cook had always kept it to cut wood for the galley. The axe was not all that sharp and a big lieutenant took several attempts to sever the anchor cable.

Immediately, the wind and current had their grip on Aphrodite and began sweeping her out to sea, stern first. Others up forward began hoisting some head sails to pull the ship around and into some control.

Before any of this was effective though, men closed in below began trying to force their way out. One man, who had been sleeping in the great cabin, made his way on deck with one of Mullin’s Manton pistols in his fist, where Mister Doolittle brought him down with a sword slash to his leg.

Men posted at the forward hatch were unable to cope with the desperate men below who had managed to get a crowbar under the hatch and were prying it open. As it broke free and opened fully, a burly lieutenant volunteer took a twelve-pound ball and dropped it onto the tangle of men bellow attempting to escape. Midshipman Raynor took another and threw that down, to a chorus of curses from injured men. A master’s mate, armed with a brace of Sea Service pistols, fired one down the hatch with the threat to loose another shot. With sails drawing and a man at the wheel, the ship-sloop was easing her way out of the harbor entrance. One of the liners, belatedly realizing one of her charges was escaping, fired off a gun, but no one noticed where the ball struck.

By morning, the rain had stopped and the ship was under control, making her way across the channel to the Dutch island of Texel, hoping to join the blockade there if it was still extant.

There had been disorder below decks when the re-capture had become realized. Now quiet had been restored, with questions and sometimes threats passing through the hatches in both ways.

From Arnold, the anchor watchman captured asleep, some names were gathered that were said to be against the mutiny. Accordingly, these men were called to come to the hatch and questioned.

Soon, a half dozen men were standing before their captain, swearing they were loyal. While the officers who had boarded the ship had been sailing the ship, it was decided the regular hands would be more familiar with these duties. As soon as a man below was shown to be faultless in regard to the mutiny, he was called to a hatch and put to his accustomed work.