Chapter 13: On the Prowl

April, 1812

HMS Dido was sailing on a southerly course, holding the seaward position in a 20 mile-wide line of frigates that were combing the sea off the Pyrenees foothills. Cerbere had to lie due west Thomas knew although all they could see was a thin line of land on the horizon. Thisbe was holding the most landward position of their line at some two leagues from the shore. In perhaps an hour they would have to change course to southeast to avoid Cap de Creus which was jutting out from the coastline, but not before Thisbe had a chance to have a look at the shipping at Llançà. The coastal battery there had been destroyed by a landing party from HMS Sutherland, 74, two years ago, and it had not been rebuilt by the Spanish or the French. The last reports indicated a small battery of four 18-pounder guns in a makeshift position at beach level.

Benning planned to move in with the bigger frigates and dispatch that battery with a few broadsides, but only if there was any shipping lying at anchor making it worth the risk. Thisbe and Dido were to hold back and catch any vessels trying to escape. Neither of the ancient sixth-rates were built to endure 18-pounder fire, and Benning knew that Caroline could handle whatever the French had ready.

Suddenly, flags flew up Circe’s lines, and Midshipman Partridge mumbled the signal numbers to himself at first before he turned.

“Sir, Thisbe to squadron: four sail at anchor.”

“Very well, Mr. Partridge. Acknowledge.”

“Aye-aye, Sir. Oh, there’s another one. It’s from Caroline: Proceed as planned!”

“Acknowledge, if you please. Mr. Muir, clear the ship for action! Quartermaster, four points to starboard. Mr. Currey, man the braces!”

Dido responded smoothly going to the wind. They had to catch up with the other frigates now to reach their pre-arranged position. Through his glass Thomas could see Caroline and Circe also going to the wind, whilst Thisbe was shortening sails to allow her companions to come up.

“Sir, ship is cleared for action!” Muir reported. Thomas had looked at his fobwatch. Nine minutes was nothing but excellent.

“Well done, Mr. Muir. Let’s add main course and foresail until we reach our position!”

“Aye-aye, Sir!” Muir answered eagerly. As soon as the topmen set those huge sails, Dido leapt forward as if given the spurs, lying over decidedly.

Muir was beaming with satisfaction, as were the other officers Thomas could see. They were closing the distance to Circe rapidly, but also getting closer to the coastline. Thomas could see the rocky hills rising out of the sea, with only a few sandy coves. Llançá could be seen over their larboard bow, a small coastal town perched on the rocky coast. Blue smoke was rising from a point along the coast. Probably a heating oven, Thomas thought. If it was still blue smoke they were just starting the fire he knew, and they would never get their shot heated in time.

They were now in their planned flanking position and Thomas ordered the main course and the foresail taken in again. He needed more information to plan his next actions. With quick determination, he strode forward and to the main shrouds. Two minutes later saw him up in the crow’s nest trying to catch his breath and holding his glass steady enough.

There, close to the rocky shore, lay four vessels, two brigantines, a brig and a large cutter from the looks of them. Their crews were bustling about. The cutter’s crew were simply launching a boat and making a run for the coast, abandoning the small ship. The other three were weighing anchor and setting sail Thomas could see. They were probably hoping for the frigates to concentrate on the battery first. If all three of the vessels made their run for safety at the same time, they might even have a chance.

Now they were anchor up and moving. Thomas could see that they were heading south, trying to slip by Thisbe and gain the open sea. Dido was of no use in her current position. Thomas rushed down the ratlines back to the deck.

“Quartermaster, fall off four points! Course south by southwest! Mr. Muir, main course and foresail! We must head off those merchantmen before they slip past Thisbe!”

The first dull gun shots were heard from the coast, and a few water fountains leapt up around Caroline. Even as he looked, Caroline fired her bow chasers, quickly followed by Circe’s.

Dido lay over when the full wind filled her big sails and she raced across the small bay to join Thisbe. The brig and the two brigantines were trying to pass the small frigate to windward, the brigantines in the lead. Melrose could be trusted to catch the brig, but Dido was already well positioned to head off the brigantines. They were seaworthy ships, but Dido was quicker due to her larger crew which could set and brace sails simultaneously, whereas the small civilian crews of the French could only handle one mast at a time. This had given Dido a sufficient advantage, but now they had to catch two ships at once.

“Mr. Muir, kindly have the starb’d guns loaded with dismantling shot on top of the round shot and run out!”

“Aye-aye, Sir,” Muir answered and passed the orders on to Mr. Lark who commanded the main deck.

“Let’s cripple the first brigantine, then catch the second. Thisbe can handle the rest,” Thomas explained to his second-in-command.

“Yes, Sir! By God, it’s good to see some action at last!”

Thomas smiled. Yes, it was good. After over two years of shepherding transports, this was exhilarating. To starboard, Caroline and Circe were now firing full broadsides at the gun position on the shore. Thisbe had fired a shot over the brig’s bow and was threatening her with a broadside. Even as Thomas looked, a Tricolore went up the brig’s mast and then down again.

Dido was slightly ahead of the first brigantine, whilst the second was falling behind. Thomas understood. The second brigantine would wear soon to escape behind him.

“Mr. Lark! Aim for the rigging! Fire when you think fit!” Thomas shouted.

Mr. Lark saw fit. Just seconds later, the starboard side guns discharged in a well-ordered broadside, hurling almost 200 pounds of iron into the brigantine’s rigging. Her huge gaff mainsail was torn to shreds and her foremast sail parted. She lost way immediately.

“Back the foretops’l!” Thomas roared. “Let her have another one!”

Dido slowed a little, giving her gun crews time to load. The second broadside completed the destruction of the brigantine’s rigging, leaving her crippled and helpless.

Meanwhile, the other brigantine had worn as expected and was crossing Dido’s wake.

“Ready to wear ship!” Thomas shouted. “Man the braces! Quartermasters, bring her before the wind!”

Like a well trained horse on a parade ground, Dido went around and within a minute, she was chasing the fleeing Frenchman. The brigantine had gained two cable lengths with her manoeuvre.

“Mr. Muir, a shot over her bows!”

The foremost six-pounder on the forecastle barked and a fountain of water jumped up close to the brigantine’s starboard bow. In response, four guns were run out on the French ship, six-pounders at the most. The French captain wanted to fight. Thomas sighed.

“Larboard battery, ready to fire! Quartermaster, one point to starboard!”

By changing the course a little, Dido’s broadside could bear on the brigantine.

“Mr. Bellows! Fire when your guns bear!”

Bellows waited until Dido was on even keel before he ordered the broadside. The nine-pounders discharged and smoke was drifting to leeward, briefly obscuring the brigantine from Thomas’s view. When the smoke cleared, Thomas saw that the smaller ship had been hit at least four times. Immediately, she turned into the wind and hove to.

“Get in the main sail and foresail! Get the t’gallants in! Larboard battery, load and run out! Quartermaster, two points to starboard!”

Dido closed the gap to the damaged brigantine and then hove to, her ten nine-pounders ready to fire. In the face of this threat, somebody in the hapless brigantine lowered the Tricolore.

“Mr. Muir, take longboat and cutter and take possession, if you please!”

Behind them, Thisbe had collected the other brigantine whilst Caroline’s boats were already closing in on the abandoned cutter. The shore battery was silent now, probably destroyed by the two frigates. Thomas found himself smiling. The well coordinated attack had been successful. Now, if those ships were not sailing in ballast, the four frigates would share in at least ten thousand pounds of prize money, easily £600 for each captain or almost two years’ pay.

Muir was back half an hour later to report.

“She’s the Belle Madeleine out of Antibes, Sir. Three hundred tons and carrying a cargo of wines. Fifty casks of fifty gallons each. Another twenty casks of brandy wine from Jerez. Looted from the Spanish owners it would seem.”

Thomas nodded. His idea had been correct. The French were sending back loot in their transports.

“Crew of fifteen, Sir, armed with six four-pounders. Her captain was wounded by our broadside. I was able to secure the logbook and their signal book.”

“Excellent, Mr. Muir. Ten tons of wine will fetch a pretty penny. I wonder what the other prizes carry.”

“Gentlemen, to further success!” Captain Benning proposed.

The other three captains raised their glasses to join in the toast. Thomas was particularly satisfied. His own suggestion to check ships bound for French ports had paid off handsomely. The Belle Madeleine with her cargo of Spanish wines and brandies had been only one of three cargoes they had caught. The brig was carrying what had to be the complete furniture from a richly appointed castle, including some beautiful pieces that dated back to the Moorish rule. The other brigantine also carried loot – bales of silk, crates with silverwares, precious china and even two strongboxes filled with gold and silver coins. Only the cutter had been loaded with army stores and was bound for Malaga.

Right now, the prizes were following the four frigates. Captain Melrose would escort them to Gibraltar for adjudication by the prize court. Captain Benning’s prize agent would then dispose of ships and cargo. Thomas wanted to lay claim on a few pieces of the furniture as gift for his parents, but this was not possible before they were registered as prizes.

“Now, gentlemen, let us plan the next moves. I propose that we continue our southerly sweep. Captain Melrose and the prizes can stay with us until we are past Spanish waters. Perhaps we’ll catch some more on the way, eh?”

“I believe that to be the best course of action, Sir,” Woolcombe agreed.

Thomas just nodded his agreement, as did Melrose.

“Thisbe will remain with the prizes unless receiving contrary orders from me,” Benning continued. “I was also thinking of releasing the prisoners on some undefended beach along the coast. We can only spare small prize crews. Getting rid of the prisoners will take away some of the head aches for the prize captains.”

“Two-hundred pounds of head money, Sir,” Woolcombe argued.

“Twelve pounds ten shillings for each of us, Sir, against the £700 each of us can expect from the sale of prizes and cargo,” Melrose answered. “I agree that releasing them will make things easier. They’re civilians anyway.”

Benning looked at Thomas. “Captain Grey?”

“Sir, I agree that £200 is a drop in the bucket compared with the prizes and cargoes, but it is good money nonetheless. However, we could let them trade their freedom for information. It would help us to know which ports are being used by the French. Do they go to Malaga with the army stores and receive their cargoes there too? Or is there some other place where they pick up loot?”

Woolcombe gave a measured nod to this. “This might be worth a try, Sir.”

Benning nodded too. “Perhaps that would indeed be worthwhile. Captain Melrose, you speak French, don’t you?”

Melrose nodded with a wry smile. He had been a prisoner in France until he was released after the Peace of Amiens.

“Let us see what they know,” he said.

The questioning of the French sailors had really paid off, Thomas mused. He was looking at the prizes as they cast anchor under the guns of Gibraltar. A total of nine merchantmen and one armed French cutter had been captured on the way south along the Spanish coast, so many that Captain Benning decided to dispatch both Thisbe and Dido to escort them to Gibraltar.