In the Navy
Copyright© 2005/2020 to Argon
Chapter 53: The Trusk Sisters
April 1813
No new fires were observed, and the wait began. Tony spent the next two hours on deck, anxiously watching the mouth of Saint John’s Bayou, until he saw first one, then the other five boats make their way out to the lake, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he could already see through his glass that there had been casualties. The closer they got, the more he could discern. Clearly, Uxbridge in Saturn’s longboat had suffered a wound to his left arm, since his coat arm was missing, and a bloody bandage was showing.
Still, maintaining discipline, Uxbridge waited until Captain Stanfell’s longboat made fast at Saturn’s chains. Tony received the captain with proper ceremonial and led him aft, not before giving Andrew a nod to look after Uxbridge. In the cabin, John Little served them brandy before Tony bade his guest to report.
“Sir Anthony, we made it alright into the bayou and across to the town. We pretty well took the Yankees by surprise at first, and we set fire to an armoury and two warehouses, after chasing out the workers.
“Moving further towards the town centre, we encountered fierce resistance from one of the houses lining the market place. At least three riflemen were firing upon us, firing regular volleys, and there were more inside who must have helped by loading those rifles. They were damn accurate, too, Sir Anthony, and Mister Uxbridge was wounded. I ordered the Marines to advance, and Captain Courtland had them fire three volleys against the house. Fire from inside ceased, and the Marines advanced and took it.”
Stanfell made a face. “We found three dead Yankees inside and four wounded, two women, sisters, amongst them. Sir, learning that they have no surgeon in the town, I took the liberty to bring along the wounded for our surgeons to treat them.”
“I applaud your chivalry, Captain,” Tony said warmly. “How severe are those wounds?”
“Thank you, Sir Anthony. The older sister suffered a glancing shot against the head and was bleeding badly. We thought we’d lose her, but Surgeon’s Mate Warner took a look and bound up the head wound. Her sister must’ve taken her rifle and fired it. It broke her arm. Seems, she wasn’t a good rifleman or -woman. The men were wounded when the Marines stormed the house, stab wounds from the bayonets, Sir. Nothing too serious, but bleeding badly.”
“Very well, we shall see and hope for their best. What happened next?”
“We caught a young man in militia garb storming blindly from a house, not fully clothed yet. He’s a lieutenant, and we took him prisoner. We moved further and found three more warehouses and their militia command post and set them on fire. We found their mail and secured a strongbox from the command post. We also secured seven slaves from a slave trader and relieved him of his monies,” Stanfell grinned. “They should prefer the Navy to the canebrakes.”
“I believe I saw a few black faces,” Tony nodded. “Mister Little can approach them and maybe make them understand.
“Yes, Sir Anthony. Then, we were approached by two youngsters, siblings. They claim to be British and sound like it, too. Their father was in an arrest cell. He’s a British merchant, and he and his children made it here from Fort de France before Dessaline took over. The Yankees let him ply a little trade, but there’s a new commander, and he was arrested. We broke him out when we took the command post, and I took them with us.
“All in all, we had seven wounded, Mister Uxbridge, two sailors and four of the Marines. It looks like they’ll all make it.”
“Splendid, Captain. I felicitate you on a well-executed mission. We should make use of the western breeze and find our way out of this enclosed water. We shall have a dinner tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to rest and write your report.”
“Thank you, Sir Anthony. With your permission?”
“Of course, Captain. Let me show you to the port!”
Once Stanfell was on his way to the Cossack post-ship, Tony turned to Andrew.
“Let’s get the Hell out of this lake, Andrew. Signal to the squadron: Weigh anchor and form line behind flagship.”
“Aye-aye, Sir Anthony!” Andrew answered, as was proper, and immediately gave orders to get under way. Signal flags were already flying, when Andrew sought Tony again. “Uxbridge lost some blood, but the bones are not hurt. The ball tore through his upper arm, so there’s no rags in the wound. Looks good.”
“That’s a relief. Uxbridge’s a good man. How are those minutewomen?”
Andrew smiled. “In pain. It took Latimer twelve stitches to close the head wound. Had to shave off her hair for it over her right ear. She’s out like a light after the tot of rum she got. Her sister’s cussing enough for the both of them, though. Latimer had to set her arm, but the rum she got didn’t stop her from calling him and his boys any bad name in the book. They both seem to be the daughters of the local militia commander, some Colonel Trusk. He’s away from New Orleans, looking for some run slaves of his.”
“We’ll patch the girls up and then set them ashore somewhere. I don’t think I’ll offer them a place at my table,” Tony remarked drily.
“You had better not. Well, they’ll both have royal headaches come tomorrow. One from the head shot, the other one from the rum.”
The squadron had made it out of Lake Pontchartrain and Lake Borge before sundown and was now securely anchored in the Mississippi Sound. The bulkheads had been raised again in Saturn, and the hands had received a warm supper and belated rum rations, excepting the masthead lookouts. Tony and Andrew also had a decent supper of cold cuts and leftover beef pie, with a fine bottle of French red wine from Tony’s wine locker, before they turned in for the night. Now, the ship’s bell had sounded four times, and with the sunrise imminent, Tony had got up and was getting shaved by Grimm.
Dressed in an everyday Captain’s coat, he made his way to the quarterdeck, where he found Andrew, who was already receiving the report of the officer of the morning watch, Mister Walter Cray, the sailing master. Obviously, nothing was amiss, and one look around told Tony that the squadron was sitting pretty, with the westerly 3-knot breeze just strong enough to fill the windbags that were rigged to aerate the lower decks.
“I shall visit the wounded, Captain,” he told his brother-in-law, who nodded.
“Yes, Sir Anthony. Mister Latimer is making the rounds.”
With John Little in tow, Tony descended to the main deck and then took the steeper companionway to the orlop deck. The sick bay was located amidships on the orlop deck where the movements of the ship were the least violent in heavy seas, and, as told by Andrew, he found the surgeon there, already making rounds. Tony found George Uxbridge sitting in a cot, his arm and shoulder neatly bandaged and looking chipper enough for somebody who had been shot the day before.
“Good morning, Mister Uxbridge. You look spry enough!”
“Thank you, Sir Anthony. I’m doing well, and Mister Latimer assures me that I’ll be as good as new soon.”
“It is not my decision, but I advise you to follow the surgeon’s recommendation. You lost blood after all, and your arm must hurt fiercely when you move it. I speak from experience, as you may know. If you take two or three days to recuperate, a midshipman will fill in and gain valuable experience.”
“Yes, Sir Anthony. That is something to consider. What lifts my spirits is that the harpy who shot me feels worse than I do.”
“Yet, I heard that she is spreading the hurt.”
“No, Sir Anthony, that is her sister, the foul mouth. The older Miss Trusk is suffering the most from the cussing of her sister, seeing that she has a blinding headache. That’s what I meant, Sir Anthony.”
“Oh, dear. Let us hope that we can arrange for cartel, to rid us of them. The Yankees can have them back. Well, it’s good to see you in good spirits, Mister Uxbridge. I’ll make my rounds then.”
Tony found the wounded sailors and Marines and ascertained that their wounds were light. The two American militia men were another matter, with one run through the left shoulder by a bayonet blade, and the other through the left thigh. Both were weak from their blood loss, but when they realised that it was the high and mighty commodore who was interested in their wellbeing, they answered smartly and with respect. One of them asked that word should be sent to the shore to let his wife know that he was alive.
“She’s heavy with child, Sir, an’ I’d hate’er to worry on top o’ that.”
Tony promised to let the Americans know of their prisoners. He then pulled aside a curtain fashioned from bread sacks, that protected the two wounded women from the looks of the men. One of them, a black-curled, dark-eyed lass of perhaps eighteen years, look quite banged up, with her head in a bloody bandage, and her face showing the pain she had to feel.
Her sister, her hair a light brown, scowled at him with barely suppressed anger.
“I am Commodore Sir Anthony Carter, commanding this squadron. May I have the pleasure of learning your names?”
“What for?” the light-haired one hissed.
“Why, to let your family know that you are alive and in our custody, but also to arrange for a cartel to return you to the shore.”
“How chivalrous!” she sneered. “What ransom will you demand?”
Tony could not help it: he had to laugh. “I’m afraid that things will be reversed. We shall probably have to pay your fellow Americans to take you back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I cannot imagine that they’ll accept you back without remuneration, now that lucky circumstance freed them of your less-than-delightful presence.”
From behind the sack-cloth curtain, laughter could be heard, and the young woman blushed furiously. She was just drawing a breath to voice her anger, when her sister’s weak voice — barely a whisper — could be heard.
“Please, stop it, Angelina! My head hurts!”
“There you have it! Your ruffians shot a woman in cold blood.”
“The arm of my lieutenant tells me a different story. It was your foolhardiness that got her shot. Five men and two girls against a landing force of two-hundred. What on earth possessed you?”
“We had to do something. Father was away with the militia, and there was no-one else,” the black-haired sister whispered.
“Brave, but still foolhardy, Miss. Now, you seem to be a little better mannered. Can you tell me your names?”
“I am Amanda Trusk; my sister’s name is Angelina. I’m the older,” she answered, squinting her eyes a little.
“Very well. I shall let your authorities know of your identities and conditions. I am afraid that I cannot effect an exchange under cartel immediately. You will have to stay detained with us. In the light of this, will you both give me your word of honour that you will not act against our ships, officers and crews whilst being kept on board?”
“Never!” the younger, Angelina, hissed. “I’ll fight you and your ruffians to my last breath!”
“Admirable, but senseless. This leaves me no choice put to have you placed under lock for the duration of our voyage. Miss Amanda?”
“I’d give my word, but I cannot betray my sister.”
Tony shrugged. “I regret this, but you leave me no choice. Let me know should you change your minds.”
“This is how you treat young ladies of standing?” Angelina Trusk asked snidely.
“Oh, judging from your conduct and language, you are no lady, just an obstinate, foul-mouthed child, and you’ll be treated accordingly. Of course, I regret having to include your sister in the same predicament, but I noticed that you don’t care about her.”
“How can you say that?”
“Easy. You made your decision, knowing the effects on her and knowing of the pain she is suffering, without even conferring with her. I find you quite heartless, Trusk,” he ended with calculated malice, eschewing the honorific ‘Miss’, for she annoyed him with her childish conduct. He saw the effect on her immediately, for she turned first white in anger, before developing a blush when she regarded her sister with her blood-soaked bandage.
“I’m sorry, Mandy!”
“I understand you, Angie. I also have to acknowledge the humane treatment we are receiving from our foes. Things could have gone much worse. Think of what father told us about the time the Hessians took grandfather’s farm!”
“You want to give your word, Mandy?”
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