The Midshipman Prince (31 page)

      
The ship needed to replenish its supply of food, water, gunpowder, and wood for the cooking stoves, plus several minor but important repairs needed to be made. The only thing that kept Saumarez from getting underway without attending to those needs was the wise counsel of his First Lieutenant. He asked the captain whether he would rather attend to these matters now, or join Hood’s fleet then have to leave, perhaps on the eve of a battle, because we were out of water; or break off during an engagement and flee from the enemy because we were out of powder.

      
That settled it. He didn’t like it, but Saumarez would rather die than report for duty with a ship that was unfit to accomplish its duties.

      
So, for the next few days the bay was filled with small craft going back and forth between the
Tisiphone
and shore. Tons of supplies were shipped aboard—kegs of water, fresh fruits and vegetables, meat, casks of small beer, bags of breadfruit, and cords of wood. In addition, there were the thousand little things that made life bearable, and sometimes possible, when you crammed 200 men in a wooden container 124 feet long and 33 feet wide. Chief among these smaller items was mail.

      
Very few things aboard ship had the importance of mail call. To begin with, it rarely happened and mail could take anywhere from six months to several years to catch up to you. To send a letter a family member or friend would first send it to the Fleet Mail Service at Falmouth. The mail service employees would place it in a bag depending on which fleet the ship was with (i.e. Mediterranean, America, Channel, West Indies, and so forth). Several times a week small, light, fast ships called packets would leave Falmouth to deliver the bags to their assigned chief of station—wherever he might be.

      
The mail packet had arrived in English Harbor about a day after the
Tisiphone
, and immediately the tenor and tone of day-to-day life changed. Suddenly, the most popular men aboard ship were those who could read and write. The smartest of them knew how to convert that skill into extra tots of rum, if not cold hard cash, by reading and then writing replies for their shipmates.

      
The bag was brought aboard the
Tisiphone
and opened by the first lieutenant. Official dispatches, of course, were removed first along with mail intended for the warrant and commissioned officers. The remaining mail was placed in piles according to the specialty of the recipient and given over to the officer or midshipman in charge of that division. That afternoon, before the first dogwatch, the mail would be distributed to the men.

      
This was among both the happiest and the sadist times aboard ship. News of births, marriages, good health and good fortune, arrived alongside letters concerning news of deaths, sicknesses and disaster. Messages of eternal devotion tumbled out of the bag along with letters beginning “Dear John.” Seamen would be happy or sad, but none could be indifferent to the arrival of the mail packet.

      
Captain Saumarez called Sidney Smith to the quarterdeck and introduced him to Lieutenant James Cornwallis, Master and Commander of His Majesty’s armed brig
Badger
. Saumarez came right to the point.

      
“Smith, we’re going to be stuck here for I don’t know how long getting re-supplied and refitted; but Admiral Hood needs to get my dispatch as soon as possible. Lieutenant Cornwallis here is on his way to Hood. I want you to deliver this message pouch to him personally. You can rejoin us when we catch up in a few days.”

      
“Yes, sir. Can I bring...”

      
“Yes, Walker can go with you. You’d think you two were brothers or something.”

      
In a way, you know, maybe we are,
Smith thought as he went below to gather his few possessions and say good-bye to Susan Whitney and Bill Hanover, promising to see them again in a few days.

* * *

      
The armed brig
Badger
actually began life as the USS
Pitt
. She was captured from the Americans in 1776 and was quickly purchased into the Royal Navy to serve the West Indies station. She was 68 feet long, 21 wide, carried about 90 men and had numbered among her captains such men as Horatio Nelson and Cuthbert Collingwood.

      
The
Badger
had two masts, the foremast was square rigged, and the main was fore-and-aft. This gave the
Badger
its two primary virtues: it was fast and maneuverable. With the square rig, it would run before the wind like a man of war. With the fore and aft sails, it could sail into the wind like a Barbary pirate.

      
The “armed” part of its designator was more psychological than anything. She had 12 “long fours” (four-pound carriage guns) on her main deck and two half-pound swivel guns. While that might sound impressive, it was not. Ignoring the swivel guns, it meant she could only throw a broadside of 24 pounds. While that might give pause to a lightly armed privateer, it was laughable to any serious warship.

      
No, the
Badger
was built for speed and speed was what she was showing as she left the island of Antigua in her wake.

      
The ship proceeded down the leeward side of the Leeward Islands looking for the British fleet. Lieutenant Cornwallis was slightly older than Sidney Smith and senior to him as a lieutenant. That was a moot point, however. As soon as they stepped foot aboard the
Badger
, Cornwallis shed his erstwhile rank of lieutenant and became the Master and Commander of a ship of the Royal Navy. Aboard that ship, he had all the rights, privileges, authority, and responsibilities of the captain of a 100-gun first rate. There were things even the king himself could not order him to do—at least not while on board his own ship.

      
Cornwallis bore the responsibility lightly. He was no tyrant or tyrant in the making. He was maybe 20 years old and drove the ship like a teenager with a fast new horse. He knew when to rein his impulses in, but there were other times when he had the
Badger
nearly leaping out of the water in obedience to his commands. He could not imagine anything on God’s green earth being better than having command of a fast packet.

      
Walker was standing in the bow of the ship enjoying the feeling of the warm Caribbean air cascading through his hair as the
Badger
plowed through some low rolling waves. His solitude, however, was broken by a call from the main mast lookout.

      
“On deck, there. Two sail, two points off the larboard bow.”

      
Cornwallis quickly replied, “Very well. Keep a sharp lookout and tell me when you can identify them.” He handed one of the precious telescopes—one of only two on board—to a midshipman and told him to take it up to the lookout.

      
Walker started walking back toward the quarterdeck as he saw Smith emerging from the hatch to the officer’s cabin. They met at the ship’s tiller where Cornwallis was standing.

      
“Who do you think they are, captain?” Smith used the honorific because it was both technically correct and he knew that no lieutenant ever tired of being called “captain.”

      
“It’s hard to say. Probably ours, but I am going to head over there to find out.”

      
Fifteen minutes later, the lookout called again. “On deck! I make out three, no, make that four, sail now. They look like they’re maneuvering for a fight.”

      
And no sooner had the lookout said those words than a series of red flashes could be seen on one of the ships followed a few seconds later by the unmistakable sound of a broadside being fired.

      
“Helm, come up a point or two. We are duty bound to go over there to help with the injured, and anyone that’s in the water, but I do not intend to get this ship in the middle of
that
dog fight.”

      
And “that” was referring to one of the countless skirmishes that occur in any war—unrecorded by history and unremembered by anyone who was not there. In this instance, two British ships of the line from Hood’s fleet, the
Torbay
(74) and the
London
(98), came across the
Scipion
(74) and the
Sibylle
(32) of De Grasse’s, and all concerned were immediately cleared for action.

      
As with most naval battles, large and small, most of the time was spent jockeying for position. When the battle was joined, however, it developed into a running fight that lasted from 3:00 in the afternoon into the night. The climax came when the
London
managed to close to within pistol shot range of the
Scipion
. A furious exchange of gunfire then occurred in which the
London
, though it had more guns, amazingly, got the worst of it. Having sustained serious damage and with her steering almost completely shot away, the
London
broke off the fight, sheered away, and almost ran into the
Torbay
in the process.

      
The French knew there was no way they were going to be able to board and capture either ship. The British were heavily damaged, but they were not defeated, and the French were keenly aware of the difference. So, they simply sailed away leaving the British to lick their wounds. Unfortunately, the French ships broke in the direction of the
Badger
.

      
This began the process of everyone on board the
Badger
willing themselves and their ship to become invisible. During the battle, there probably weren’t a half-dozen men on either side who were even aware that the
Badger
was there. Now her survival depended on her being such small fry that the French would ignore her and just sail on past.

      
She was not to be so lucky.

      
The
Scipion
moved first. She was following the
Sibylle
and swung out so that the two ships, bracketed the
Badger
, the
Scipion
to larboard, the
Sibylle
to starboard. When they came up to the
Badger,
the
Sibylle
hauled her wind and dropped open her gun ports. That was the end game. Cornwallis knew that if the
Sibylle
fired even a half-broadside, the
Badger
would come apart like a child’s toy.

      
With a pale face and shaking hands, he walked over to the main mast, drew his sword, sliced a halyard, and watched the British flag flutter down to the deck.

* * *

      
Hanover swung around the corner of the sick bay and found Susan cleaning up some instruments after the
Tisiphone
’s afternoon sick call.

      
“Susan, do you know who is on board this ship?”

      
“Yes, almost 600 men, 87 of whom seem to have one version or another of the clap at the moment.”

      
“No, silly. Sir Charles Douglas is on board. He’s being transported to take command of the
Formidable
.”

      
“How wonderful for him,” she said without enthusiasm as she continued putting a series of bottles back into a cabinet.

      
“No, Susan, seriously. Sir Charles is probably the world’s leading expert on gunnery. Why the changes he’s made in gunnery, his inventions... He’s a living legend.”

      
Susan closed the door on the pharmaceutical cabinet, grabbed a rag and paused to look at Hanover before starting to scrub down the foldout counter.

      
“And you’re telling me this… why?”

      
“While we were in English Harbor, we got 12 of the new firing mechanisms that Sir Charles invented.”

      
“Please, Bill, I am very tired. Could you get to the point?”

      
“We’ve got the mechanisms and Sir Charles himself is going to give us training on how to use them in a few minutes. All officers, midshipmen, gunners and gunners mates must be there.”

      
“You’ve noticed, I assume, that I am a surgeon’s mate?”

      
“Yes, well...” and suddenly Hanover was less sure of himself. “I just thought that you having been married once to a gunner... and you always seem interested in anything having to do with the ship... that...”