HMS Aurora: A Charles Mullins Novel (Sea Command Book 3) (10 page)

Men were coming aboard the ship when her captain read himself in. Most of the standing offices were those Mullins had sailed with before, but the hands were new to him. A lesson had been learned from the recent mutiny, and those men brought in by the Impress Service were examined closely for perceived violent tendencies. Some suspicious characters were sent aboard liners taking on stores in the harbor in exchange for some of their own hands.

It was felt, with the large number of hands aboard the liners, the men from the gaols could be more easily assimilated in the large crews there.

Needless to say, the captains of the liners were not at all sympathetic toward this viewpoint. Mullins was pleased with the overall quality of his men though, and felt he could accomplish any mission appropriate to a ship of this size.

The time came to depart. All the stores were on board, and all the men intended to sail were on the ship. There was no nonsense this time about secret orders. They were to return to Boulogne and enforce the blockade. The ship was anchored in nearly the same location as a previous time when it was discovered the anchor was fouled in some old wreckage on the bottom. Mullins explained to his new first officer, Mister Hardinger, the extreme difficulty they had in breaking the ship free.

This time, there was no difficulty in winning the anchor, and immediately after the hook was brought aboard and fastened to the cathead, the ship was on her way. Once out in the Channel, there was the usual epidemic of seasickness from the new landsmen, but there were enough seasoned hands to perform the necessary seakeeping duties.

The men prostrate from sickness were not spared. Those unwilling or unable to go to their duty station were driven below to the mess deck and left to their misery. Those unable to control themselves from fouling the deck, would be taken to task when their healthy peers returned from their labor on deck, and forced them to clean their mess, however foul.

Off the French coast, Mullins found the situation similar to what it had been when he had been there last. New invasion craft were being constructed in little ports along the coast and were being ferried to Boulogne by often ill-trained crews.

Commodore Wilson, commanding the little group of sloops, brigs and cutters here, advised him not to bother wasting prize crews on any but the more important prizes. With most of the prizes encountered being hastily constructed craft of poor quality, it was considered better to take aboard such prisoners as could be accommodated and burn the vessels. Aurora spent her time chasing down the elusive craft, but earned little in prize money for her efforts.

Mullins received cheerful mail from Doris nearly every time a ship reached them from home. He took to writing her frequent letters himself, explaining the ship’s daily activities, while staying away from any subjects involving security matters. Her letters always brought a smile to his face and he wished he had someone with whom to share them. Some of the private matters in her letters though, persuaded him that would not be a good idea.

The life of the captain of a King’s ship, was often a lonely one, and he spent much time thinking about his relationship with Doris. When he was with her, he felt as if she was the most important person in his world. At sea though, after the pangs of initial separation, he was quite able to take her from his memory.

He wondered about this. These had been thoughts crossing his mind about marriage, whether to Doris, or possibly someone else. He was now a wealthy naval officer and plenty of his acquaintances mentioned available sisters, daughters or other relatives.

During a lull in the action, he was called aboard the flag and tasked with duty that would take him from the area for a time. Called into the great cabin, he was asked whether he had ever sailed to the Baltic. When he replied he had visited that area several times as a midshipman, Commodore Wilson informed him he was to carry a negotiator to Anholt Island. Anholt, of course, was Danish soil, a small island in the Kattegat. Denmark had maintained a light on that island for years, to give mariners their position in these shoal waters during times of low visibility. Britain, as well as other countries, traded with the various countries bordering on the Baltic, and this shipping relied on the light for determining position, but relations between Denmark and Britain had been declining as of late.

With the disagreements between Britain and the Danish Crown, there were threats of shutting that light down. HMS Aurora would meet a transport at a designated rendezvous, and escort her and her load of two hundred soldiers, with accompanying weapons and kit to the island. There, the negotiator would go ashore and attempt to convince the inhabitants of the island to either keep the light burning voluntarily and at British expense, or submit to British occupation.

Once either option came into effect, Aurora would remain on station until it was obvious no further threat might take place. It was hoped no occupation would be necessary, but the landing force aboard the transport must be ready for the possibility.

The transport had not yet made its appearance, at the designated rendezvous, since it had not yet left Portsmouth. Although the detachment of Royal Artillery, under the command of Major Gibbons, had long since loaded, the foot troops expected had been tardy in making their appearance.

The ship itself was an ancient, former 74-gun third-rate, HMS Odin, now disarmed and relegated to its present role, transporting men and materiel wherever needed. Lieutenant Carter, an over-aged naval officer, almost at the end of his career, commanded. Carter had been unfortunate enough to have no one of importance to follow his career and attend to his advancement during his naval service. He had obtained his lieutenant’s commission at an advanced age and had never been promoted farther.

Although without any flaws in his professional capabilities, there had always been another officer, with someone of interest nearby, when a vacancy was available. It was always that other officer that was noticed.

At this stage, with Lieutenant Carter older than many of the admirals, few captains wished him aboard their warship. This transport was the only command left to him and Carter was glad to have her.

Waiting for the missing troops, who were intended to garrison Arnholt, should it be necessary to occupy, Carter used his time to explore the big port. One point of interest for him was the collection of rusting twelve-pounder guns on the ordnance wharf. The Master of Ordnance came out of his office when he saw the naval officer examining his wares, and explained.

“These guns are out of an old fourth-rate, condemned and sent to the breaker’s yard. The guns are an old pattern and have been judged too old to re-issue so they have been struck off the inventory. They are waiting transport to a foundry where they will be melted down and re-cast.”

HMS Odin was presently armed with only a pair of nine-pounders for signaling purposes. Carter expressed his dismay to the official that he commanded a former ship of force, now armed with such paltry armament.

Mister Royter, the ordnance master, always ready to exchange gossip with a new face, invited Carter into his office and poured him a glass of wine. After exchanging what gossip they had, Royter returned to the subject of the guns. By this time in the afternoon, the official had already consumed more than a few bottles of wine, and while not incapacitated, was not all that steady either.

He expressed misgivings as to sending a fine ship like Odin to sea with no armament. “Just think, what would the public say if some little French gun boat came up to her and caused her to strike just because she was not armed.”

Carter had no answer to such a question. While unlikely, such a disaster would likely lead to him losing not only his command but likely his career.

Royter, the drink now speaking for him, now reminded the transport’s captain of the pile of condemned guns outside his office. “They are off the inventory, so no one could take notice if some came up missing. Of course, I have no gun carriages for them. How you would obtain that article, I have no idea.”

His interest piqued, Carter, speaking more to himself, rather than Royter, said, “I do have a damned good carpenter aboard my ship. He has to be good to make all the repairs to keep her afloat. He could knock together a few in no time.”

Royter said, “There you have it. The answer to your problem. If you send over a boat, you can use the mast at the end of the wharf to load a few guns for your ship.”

Back aboard Odin, Carter gave some thought to Royter’s word. Just how much trouble could he get into if he followed through and took a few of the guns? Reflection caused him to think, perhaps not too much. After all, he was trying to get those guns back into action against the enemy. And, Royter had already told him they were off inventory. So, they were not really King’s property then, were they?

He had only a small crew aboard Odin, just enough to handle her in bad weather. Nothing at all like what she had carried when she stood in the battle line with the other liners. He certainly did not have the men required to man a number of guns. He did have enough men to crew the big launch though. He called over Amos Harding, the bosun, and told him about the guns going begging over on the ordnance wharf.

“Mister Harding, I’d be glad if you would take the launch over to the wharf tonight and load what you can. Bring back your booty and we will hoist them aboard. I have already been given permission to take the guns, but perhaps some of the other officials may take offense, so I’d like to do this quietly, without undue notice being taken.”

It was early in the middle watch when Harding took his men on their raid. From the tenor of his captain’s remarks, he had understood he was to bring back a ‘few’ guns. But then, there had been the statement to ‘bring back what you can’. He would have to examine the scene to see what he might be able to do.

After Royter’s soliloquy to Carter, another transport anchored near the wharf. This was the ship that was to carry those condemned guns to their destiny at the foundry. A large lighter had been moored fore and aft at the ordnance wharf and left, there being no funds to pay the workmen to load after hours. The intent was to load these condemned guns into the lighter in the morning when the workmen returned. They would then be transported out to the waiting transport in the harbor.

The watchman was fast asleep in one of the warehouses, so no one was about when the launch pulled up to the wharf. Exploring ashore, the bosun realized this task was going to be easier than he had expected. A large pile of twelve-pounder gun barrels was placed next to the mast. This had a large spar jutting out horizontally from its apex, and had the necessary tackle to load heavy objects that could then be swung out over the water.

The difficulty here, was this lighter moored just in the proper place to load the guns. Of course, the lighter could be unmoored and moved away, but time was fleeting. The bosun decided it would be better to use the lighter to transport the guns out to the Odin. Besides, they could load more guns aboard the lighter than the launch could carry. They could retrieve the launch when they returned the empty lighter.

Putting most of his men on the windlass, the first gun was lifted off the pile and swung over the lighter. Lowered gently, it was swung into place and scraps of wood wedged under the gun so it would not shift.

After a dozen guns had been loaded, the bosun was becoming concerned with the passage of time. They still had to get the lighter to the ship, the load transferred, and the lighter returned to shore. He believed they could have taken the entire inventory, but there was just not the time.

Captain Carter was nonplussed when the lighter loaded with guns came to Odin’s side. He had not expected this bounty, and was unsure whether he could escape with this number. Too late for anything else, he ordered his entire crew on deck to man the capstan. In short order, the guns were lifted from the lighter and deposited on Odin’s deck. The exhausted launch crew on the lighter had just enough time to return the lighter to its former mooring place at the wharf.

The morning sun was beginning to show its gleam to the east when the launch cast off and commenced its return to the transport. She carried some unexpected items. The bosun, noticing the piles of twelve-pounder balls rusting away in the mud, directed his men to each pick up a few of the projectiles and stow them in the launch. There would be some confusion in an hour, when the master of the legitimate transport went ashore to examine the cargo he was to load. The Master of Ordnance had no explanation for the missing guns. Perhaps the many bottles of wine he had drank the day before had impaired his memory. At any rate, there would be a shortage of many tons of scrap iron.

The matter would be easily rectified, though. The ordnance master directed the complaining transport ship captain’s attention to some forgotten old French guns hidden in a corner by the brush and small trees that had grown up between them. They had gone un-noticed for many a year. These old guns would make up the deficit nicely.

The carpenter and his crew were put to work aboard Odin, constructing the needed gun carriages. There was time to spare since the foot soldiers had still not made their appearance. Major Gibbons, the Royal Artillery officer that would be commanding the landing force, was interested in the guns.

Once the first carriage was completed, Gibbons had his men practice running the first gun in and out of its port. With only a dozen guns, Carter would mount all on the upper deck. As more of the gun carriages were completed, some with the assistance of the soldiers, Carter became concerned about the ship’s appearance. Watching from ashore as the crews exercised the guns, it was obvious she had only a small number of the guns that an active third rate might ordinarily carry.