The Rescue Read online

  Amid the clatter of tacking, the bell struck six times. Hornet responded to the change in sail and rudder by tripling her speed.

  “Put a man aloft who can identify Stinger I want to know if it is her as soon as she is recognizable,” Donland said.

  “Aye Captain, will be a few hours, near on the first dogwatch before we are close enough,” Jackson said.

  Donland clapped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “That I know, Mister Jackson, but it is the best we can do for this day. The shipwrecked will have another night of leisure, I trust they will enjoy it.”

  Jackson did not reply. He grinned.

  Two hours passed. “Time we see if we’ve gained on that sail,” Donland said to Jackson.

  “Mister Dewitt starboard helm ten points!” Aye Captain,” Dewitt answered.

  He turned back to Jackson, “Mister Jackson we will hold course until the end of the first dogwatch. If we don’t glimpse our quarry we will turn back south.”

  “Aye captain,” Jackson acknowledged.

  Hornet surged onward with the change of rudder and sail. Overhead, the sky was free of cloud. In all respects, the afternoon was made for sailing. Donland walked to the bow taking time to nod to the men he encountered. They each, in turn, knuckled a salute but did not speak.

  “Deck there!” Bill called down from the crosstrees. “Frigate! Larboard off the port bow!”

  Hearing the call, Donland turned and walked hurriedly back to the quarterdeck. Jackson had a glass to his eye.

  “Adelaide, sir!”

  “On patrol, I suspect,” Donland said. He took a glass from the rack and studied the frigate for a moment. “Aye,” he said and replaced the glass. “Make our number, Mister Welles,” Donland ordered.

  “Aye sir,” David answered and turned to the flag locker.

  “What of Adelaide? Jackson asked.

  Donland lifted the glass and watched as Adelaide ran up her number and the recognition signal. “Acknowledge the recognition, Mister Welles,” Donland ordered without removing the glass.

  There was no reply from Adelaide and she continued on her course.

  Turning back to Jackson Donland said, “Mister Jackson we will go about and return to Anegada. With luck, we will encounter Stinger.”

  “Aye, captain, pity Adelaide didn’t want to join our party. She’d made quick work of that pirate.”

  “True, between the two of us she’d haul her colors. But, the task is ours and it will be sloops and not frigates,” Donland said but in his heart would that he could command Adelaide’s assistance.

  * * * * *

  Donland sat in his cabin with the logbook before him. He had entered the encounter with Adelaide. His mind, however, was on what to do about the American if he did not find Stinger.

  A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come!” he called.

  “Beg pardon Captain,” Porter said with hesitation. “I’ve come to inquire if you’ve reached a decision.”

  “No, I've not,” Donland said bluntly. “Lieutenant Jackson has apprised me of your request but I've not taken it into consideration as of yet.”

  The man visibly slumped.

  “How old are you Porter?” Donland asked.

  “Twenty-eight Sir,” Porter answered.

  “And how long master’s mate?”

  “Six years, sir.”

  Donland turned in his chair and pulled open a sideboard drawer. He removed a scrap of paper and closed the drawer. Taking up his quill he wrote then held the paper out to Porter. “Three questions, Porter, each to be answered when I summon you. The time will be of my choosing and it will not be soon, so you will have ample time to prepare.”

  Porter's face went from surprise to confusion. He stepped forward and took the questions. He read them before moving back. “Aye Captain,” he said and smiled.

  “Be about your duty Porter,” Donland said and turned his attention back to the logbook.

  Porter saluted and turned for the door.

  Once alone, Donland sighed. Porter was a good man, would one day be a competent master but perhaps not suited to serve as an officer. He, like Jackson, was born a colonist, had no backing and no sponsor. Were it not for Jackson's heroics, the best he could have hoped for was receiving his master's ticket. But, Jackson had proven himself to be an apt seaman and a leader of men. Captain Okes had agreed to put forth Jackson to sit for the examination. It would not do for a lowly commander to put forth a master's mate for examination. It was difficult enough to put forth an educated midshipman with sponsorship. Putting forth a master's mate; well that was not going to happen.

  Donland stood and as he did there was another knock at the door.

  “Come!” Donland ordered.

  “Beg pardon Captain,” Sergeant Hempstead said with his hat under his arm.

  “What is it, sergeant?” Donland asked the marine.

  “A private matter sir, I’m in need of your guidance.”

  Donland sat. “And the nature of the matter?”

  “Lewis sir, he married a lass while in Savannah.”

  Donland brought to mind the young red-haired marine. The boy, for that, was what he was, only a few years older than David was. “And?” Donland asked.

  “He pines for her, caught him crying, I did. Not fitting for a marine!”

  Donland massaged his forehead. “Sergeant Hempstead I’m not inclined to involve myself with such a petty matter. He is your charge.”

  “Aye Captain, but he is a young lad and has the makings of being a good marine. Crack-shot he is.”

  “What actions have you taken thus far?” Donland asked.

  “Extra duty and a good scolding. Did no good, he’s sulky.”

  “Very well, send him to me. I’ll have a word with him,” Donland said.

  “Aye Sir,” Hempstead said and added, “He’s a good lad, just needs a bit of sorting out.”

  “Return to your duty sergeant,” Donland ordered. He wanted to hear no more. The American would be waiting.

  Honest pushed aside the curtain bearing a plate of fish and a mug of rum. “Spot of rum and a bit of fish,” he said as he sat the plate and mug on the table.

  Donland merely nodded and reached for the fish.

  Honest spoke his mind, “Given time and opportunity, Porter will do. Not sure he’s the making of an officer, though. Wants more than he can shift.”

  “And below deck?” Donland asked.

  “Always reading and taking guff from the lads. They like him well enough, but he puts on airs. They’d trust him in a fight.”

  Donland did not replay and Honest continued, “Now that lad Lewis, you leave him to me. I’ll set him to rights. Old Hempstead, the old bugger looks on the boy like he’s a son. Soft toward him, he is. I guess it’s because he never had one of his own.”

  Donland said nothing but lifted the mug. He would leave Lewis to Honest and Porter would wait.

  “What of David and your lad?” Donland asked as he held the mug to his lips.

  “Close as brothers,” Honest answered.

  The way Honest answered the question brought to mind another matter on the horizon. “Not equals,” Donland said to test the water.

  “Quarterdeck and gun-deck for now,” Honest replied.

  Donland pursed his lips and spoke what had to be said, “True enough but it will be your choice when opportunity arises. Can you bear it?”

  “Today I say aye but on that day I pray we be at peace for would ease my mind considerably were that so. But when I think of him in another ship and me not able to watch over him when hull to hull and the guns be blasting, it is a worry,” Honest confessed.

  “Aye, I too know the fear. When I see how David has grown, I know the time draws neigh that he will go his own way.”

  “Aye,” Honest agreed.

  Donland rubbed the grease of the fish from his fingers onto his britches. “But both, if they ever dream of walking a deck of their own will have to leave Hornet.”

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bsp; “Aye,” Honest said with heaviness, then asked, “You will put him forth?”

  “Yes, and as soon as either Stinger or Jacket require a midshipman. Best to keep him close at hand.”

  “Aye,” Honest replied.

  The bell struck six times and was followed by the stamp feet as hungry men hurried below for the morning meal. Hornet coasted along under light sail. Donland ordered three men aloft to keep watch. He’d not want to miss sighting Stinger. Anegada was just over the horizon to Hornet’s south. He had determined to cruise east and west, back and forth during the morning hours. If Stinger were not sighted, he would attempt to rescue those he believed to be Jacket’s survivors.

  Donland leaned against the gunnel while eating an apple. His mind drifted back through time, he saw her face, her smile and the wind blowing her hair. They had climbed a high hill. Before them lay the vast blue ocean. Overhead were puffy white clouds drifting lazily across the sky. They sat in the grass and he pulled her to him.

  “Sail two points off the larboard bow!”

  The call jerked Donland from his memory of her. He flung the apple over the railing and pulled a glass from the rack. He saw nothing. “What of her rigging?” He called up.

  “Three masts!” a lookout called down.

  Donland strode forward to the bow. He climbed up onto the bowsprit and clung to a line with one hand and put the glass to his eye with the other.

  “Stinger!” A voice called down from above.

  Donland crooked his arm around the line and focused the glass; it was indeed Stinger. He lowered the glass.

  “Mister Jackson make more sail,” he yelled back to Jackson who stood amidships.

  “Aye Captain!” Jackson answered.

  “Hands aloft!” Jackson shouted.

  “Mister Aldridge make our number!” Donland ordered as he made his way aft.

  “Stinger is tacking,” Ashcroft said as Donland neared the helm.

  “Very good,” Donland said.

  “She’s made her number, Captain,” Aldridge announced.

  “Good, now request the recognition signal, Mister Aldridge.”

  “Aye, sir,” Aldridge said and turned back to the flag locker.

  “Who is aloft?” Donland asked Ashcroft.

  “Little, Jacobs and Smith, sir,” Ashcroft answered.

  Donland craned his neck to peer upwards and cupped his hands to his mouth; “Little keep an eye out for the American!”

  Little called down, “Aye Captain!”

  “Recognition sent and acknowledged Captain,” Aldridge said to Donland’s back.

  Donland stood with his feet wide apart watching Stinger complete her tack and began to run down to rendezvous with Hornet. He was feeling better about taking on the American. Stinger had no more firepower than Hornet and getting in close to the American past her heavier guns would still be difficult. It would be a bloody fight when it came.

  “Send captain repair aboard, Mister Aldridge,” Donland ordered.

  “Aye Captain,” Aldridge answered.

  Turning to Honest, Donland said, “Go below and prepare to receive Captain Powell. Wine, I would think.”

  “Aye sir,” Honest replied.

  Hornet rolled on the swells as did Stinger just off Hornet’s larboard quarter. Powell came aboard followed by Lieutenant Andrews. Both saluted the flag and doffed their hats to the quarterdeck. The side party of marines stood at attention as the pipe tweeted. Donland extended his hand, “Good to see you hail and hardy, Commander Powell,” Donland said as he welcomed his guest.

  “Aye, and it is good to see that you are as well,” Powell replied as he shook Donland’s hand. “You remember, of course, Lieutenant Andrews.”

  “Aye, welcome aboard Lieutenant Andrews. Let us go below, we’ve more than a few matters to sort out. Lieutenant Jackson will join us,” Donland said.

  “Dismiss the side party Lieutenant Ashcroft,” Donland ordered.

  The windows of the cabin were open wide and with the door open a breeze flowed freely through the cabin. “Please be seated gentlemen, we shall have refreshments by and by but first, what of Stinger?” Donland asked.

  Powell knew Donland was referring to the obvious damage, he smiled and answered, “Bit of a set-to with an American sloop. I closed with her bow on and it was not until she luffed and showed her teeth that I realized my boldness was my folly. She loosed a broadside of nine-pound shot just as I ordered a tack to come upwind of her and rake her on the opposite beam. Were it not for that, she would have had us. As it were four shot struck home splintering our boats and shattering railings. We've no damage to masts and I continued the tack and managed a broadside at extreme range. I can't say that she received any damage.”

  “You did not pursue her?” Donland asked.

  There was hesitation on Powell’s face.

  “You are among friends and I shall not fault you for seeking a more opportune time to re-engage,” Donland said.

  Powell smiled faintly and answered, “Nines against sixes, we’ve no more than a prayer to take her. I chose to shadow her and seek opportunity knowing well that her captain is experienced and wily. He proved that by setting all sail and flying before the wind. I thought nothing of it until we began to gain ever so slowly, then as we rounded Pajors Point he luffed and came up on the wind. He waited until Stinger was mid-way of tack. The distance was halved by the time our tack was completed. He loosed a broadside at about three-quarter’s of a mile and one shot punched a hole in the mizzen. I then ordered another tack to put us out of range. Then, sad to say, he was gone and I feared to follow further for fear of another trap.”

  “Aye, as I would have done,” Donland said. “He is wily as I can attest. We encountered him, and but for a fouled line as he tacked we’ve received his offerings. However, I’m afraid Jacket fell victim off Anegada.”

  “Survivors?” Powell asked.

  “Aye, a few but the American was close at hand and I was not able to render them assistance. Perhaps, together, we shall be able to rescue them. But enough of that for now, let us have our refreshments,” Donland said.

  Honest entered bearing a tray of sweet meats and was followed by Simon bearing a tray of cheeses. They set the trays on the table and the two officers rose from their chairs.

  “I've brandy, wine, and rum,” Donland announced.

  Powell chose the brandy. With glass in hand he said, “I would venture that Hornet's presence is not coincidence.”

  Donland smiled, “No, she was ordered here by Captain Pettibone and instructed to capture or sink the American sloop with or without the aid of Jacket and Stinger. It is with great relief that Stinger is available and tasked with the same objective.”

  “Aye Captain,” Powell said and added, “I was at wits end considering how to achieve that objective and even with Hornet, the task will not be without risk. Taking that sloop will be akin to subduing a twenty-eight-gun sixth-rate. And I suspect her hull is on the same order as those big American frigates. Our shot will bounce back at us.”

  “Perhaps,” Donland said.

  “Have you a plan for taking her?” Powell asked.

  “Aye,” Donland answered.

  “Beg pardon Captain Powell, more brandy?” Honest asked.

  “Aye,” Powell answered and offered his glass.

  Donland considered the deference in Powell’s manner. Even though Powell was older and quite experienced, he behaved as if he were speaking to a post captain. Their past conversations, since each receiving their respective commands, were as equals. On the occasions he was the officer in charge of a mission, their relationship remained as equals. He found the deference to be unsettling.

  “Sir, your plan?” Powell reminded Donland.

  “Your brandy first, but keep a clear head about you,” Donland teased.

  “Aye,” Powell answered and grinned.

  That’s more like it, Donland thought. He wanted Powell as a friend, needed him as such.

  Jackson c
aught Donland’s eye as if to say, “Captain it’s time to be about it”.

  “Let us sit and I shall share my intentions,” Donland said. He turned to Jackson, “Close the door if you please.”

  “Aye Captain,” Jackson answered and rose.

  Donland remained standing and began, “We have two tasks ahead; first to rescue Stinger’s survivors and second is to take or sink the American sloop. I believe it will be possible to do both in one operation.” He paused and studied each man’s face. Beginning again he said, “We know the American sloop is cruising these waters. Her captain, having sighted Hornet and Stinger will correctly assume we will coordinate an attack against his vessel. He will be on his guard.”

  They replied in chorus, “Aye.”

  “Therefore, we will remain well apart with Hornet to the east but within signaling distance. If the American is sighted, our signal will be to make our number in reverse. Is that understood?” Donland asked.

  “Aye,” each man said.

  “Our destination will be Anegada. Hopefully, along the way, the American will sight Stinger and give chase. Captain Powell, you will lead the American southward giving Hornet the opportunity to rescue the survivors. Is this much understood?”

  “Aye,” each man responded.

  “We should be able to accomplish that task tomorrow before nightfall,” Donland said. “The taking of the American will follow at sunrise.”

  “What of the fight?” Powell asked.

  “Ah, the fight,” Donland said and grinned. “I’ve in mind a trap, one the American will not suspect. Jacket’s remains are close inshore on the eastern coast. On the west coast there is a beached Dutch ketch. Hidden just beyond the ketch is a shore battery of a nine-pounder or perhaps a larger cannon.”

  “Aye,” Powell said. “We holed the Dutchman and was about to take her but my lookout failed to give warning of the American until it was too late. It was then that I tacked to take her. I had to leave the Dutchman.”

  “Aye,” Donland said. He had wondered how the ketch had come to be beached.

  “So you know the coast,” Donland said.

  “Aye,” Powell answered.

  “Good, for you will be coming back to it. I intend to take the Dutchman and the battery. I will need a half-day tomorrow to land men, see to Jacket’s survivors and to take the ketch and battery. Captain Powell, you will tack north at daybreak and sail close inshore to bring the American under the battery.”