HMS Valiant - 25. Chapter 25

December, 1799

Off Cagliari, Sardinia

Dawn broke out over the placid Mediterranean Sea, slowly illuminating the area they were traversing. Granger was in good spirits, and for good reason. He had hosted Blayney to dinner and had truly enjoyed the man. With their initial conflicts surrounding O’Brian behind them, Granger found him to be charming and interesting. Even more of a positive was not having Lady Elgin aboard. Blayney told him that she was making life particularly unpleasant for his officers, who tried to be polite to her. It was his hypothesis that she was so vexed at Granger for removing Comstock, she was literally beside herself with anger. Heaven only knew what malice those two had been plotting.

“Ship ahoy!” called the lookout. “Antares, about a mile astern.” The winds had been erratic last night, and that explained the distance between Valiant and her charge.

“Heave to,” Granger ordered; although there was so little wind, it barely had an impact. Granger gave the order for breakfast, while Antares crawled toward them at a maddeningly slow pace.

“We seem to have lost the wind, my lord,” Meurice noted.

“That is not uncommon in this sea,” Granger observed. “It seems that it relishes its extremes, whether they be raging storms, or debilitating calms.”

“I have spoken to one of my mates, my lord, whom we consider to be a sage on these waters. He has assured me that the wind will die out completely, and soon,” Meurice said.

Granger pondered that, and with that piece of information, the distance between Valiant and Antares became more of a concern. “Mr. Weston, put the ship about and close with Antares.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. Valiant slowly turned and retraced her steps, crawling back toward the hulking transport. They were able to close to within two cables length before Granger ordered Valiant to heave to again.

“When she closes to one cables length, we will resume course,” Granger said to Weston.

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but you seem to sense danger,” Weston noted. It was quite daring to ask such a question, because some captains would interpret that as a question of their authority, but he knew Granger was willing to humor him, and share his thoughts if it was important. Weston wanted to know if it was important.

Before Granger could respond, the sails flapped briefly, and then lay flat against the masts. “The wind has abandoned us, and we are becalmed,” Granger noted. “That is never safe for a sailing ship in the Mediterranean.”

“Corsairs, my lord?” Weston asked.

“Indeed. I have encountered them a few times before,” Granger said with a rueful smile, getting a chuckle from Weston. Granger’s exploits battling pirates, especially at Oran, were the stuff of legends. “I have a healthy respect for the havoc they can wreak.”

“Fortunately, there is no sign of them, my lord,” Weston noted logically.

“That is true, but we are less than one hundred miles from Bizerte, which is a renowned pirates’ lair. And with conditions as they are, they are almost sure to sortie. We must keep a good lookout.”

“Aye aye, my lord.”

“In the interim, I think I will go check on Mr. Clifton, while trying not to let Lady Elgin foul my mood,” Granger said. “Please call away my gig.”

Weston acknowledged that order, even as Granger went below to make sure his appearance was set to rights. He returned to the deck as his gig was pulled alongside, then descended into her for the brief trip over to Antares.

They turned out a side party just as they should, and Clifton was there to greet him. “I’m sorry we fell a bit behind last night, sir.”

“With the winds such as they are, it can’t be helped,” Granger said soothingly. “I did not come to berate you; I merely came to check up on you.”

“We are doing just fine, sir,” Clifton said with a grin. “Won’t you come below for a glass?”

“Let us see how the captain of a capacious transport vessel lives,” Granger joked. He paused to greet Blayney, and then followed Clifton below. The cabin was large, but rather Spartan.

“Sadly, Captain Comstock did not believe in fitting out his quarters in a fine style, sir, and the wine he left behind is not much better than is served below decks,” Clifton said.

“I am sure it will do,” Granger said. “And I’m sure he will expect you to pay for it as if it were smuggled from France.” It was the custom for a captain assuming command of a ship to buy out the other captain’s remaining stores.

“Of that I am certain, sir,” Clifton said. They talked about nothing in particular, until they were distracted by a hail from the masthead, and then the sound of cannon.

“It appears we are needed on deck,” Granger said. He led Clifton back up to the quarterdeck, to find a somewhat agitated Midshipman Molyneux waiting for him.

“My lord, Valiant has signaled that there are ships in sight.”

“Ships?” Granger asked curiously. “Let us take a look. Mr. Clifton, would you fancy a climb to the maintop?”

“Certainly, sir,” Clifton said. Granger attached his glass to his waist, and then began to climb the shrouds, with Clifton trailing behind him. They got to the maintop, got situated, and trained their glasses on the horizon. The sight that greeted Granger made his heart sink, and did much to erase his good mood. There were eight xebecs heading for them under oar power, closing at a deliberate pace.

“Mr. Clifton, do those xebecs look different than the others we have engaged?”

“They seem bigger, sir,” Clifton said.

“I thought the same thing. Evidently the pirates in Bizerte, if that is where these ruffians are from, have invested in larger vessels,” Granger noted with a dash of humor.

“I think, sir, that it is better to have a few larger xebecs, than to have many smaller ones,” Clifton observed.

“Perhaps,” Granger said, “but they will be more difficult to sink.” Granger took one last look at them, and then affixed his glass back to his waist. “Let us return to deck.”

“Aye aye sir,” Clifton said.

Granger grabbed a backstay and gingerly slid back to the deck, while Clifton mimicked his moves. He leaned over and hailed Jacobs. “Go back to Valiant, and tell Mr. Weston to rig carronades in the bows of the launch and the longboat. After that, you may come back and get me.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. Granger did not wait to watch him leave. Instead, he began to pace the deck with Clifton, as his mind analyzed the situation. In the past, he’d only had to worry about one ship, his own, but now he had two vessels to defend. Valiant would do best at warding the xebecs off with her cannon, but the transport had but a few four-pounders, all but useless for protection. But she did have 500 battle-tested soldiers aboard.

Granger stopped pacing. “Colonel Blayney, a moment of your time, if you please.”

“Certainly,” Blayney said, and joined Clifton and Granger.

“We are almost certain to be attacked by eight xebecs. They will be armed with one large caliber cannon in the bow, probably a 24-pounder, and they probably carry some 150 to 200 men each. These vessels are powered by oars, so they are maneuverable, while we are not.”

“Cannot Valiant ward them off?” Blayney asked.

“If we cannot maneuver, it will be difficult for our guns to bear,” Granger said. “We will attempt to do so, but it is unlikely we will be able to stop all of them.”

“It would appear that we are in dire straits,” Blayney said.

“I have a plan, but it will require your men to do some fighting. I trust they are in the mood for such a venture?”

Blayney smiled. “We are always ready to fight.”

“Excellent,” Granger said. “In the past, when we have engaged these ships, we have attempted to ward them off, and sink them before they could attack us.”

“That strategy has served us well, sir,” Clifton said.

“It has, but in this situation, we have an advantage in manpower, thanks to Colonel Blayney and his men.”

“So what will you do?” Blayney asked.

“The xebecs will see Antares and think that she is a fat merchant ship. She will be the prize they will go after. They will send enough xebecs to divert Valiant, and then they will focus the others on this vessel,” Granger said. He was familiar enough with the tactics of these Barbarians to guess at their plan.

“That would make sense, sir,” Clifton agreed. Blayney had never engaged pirates, so he had no opinion to offer.

“It is important that these cretins attempt to board Antares. If they choose to stand off and pound her with cannon, that could cause you a bit of discomfort,” Granger said to Blayney.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Blayney said, understanding clearly what 24-pound cannonballs would do to his troops packed below.

“My thought is that if your men are largely hidden below, Colonel, the pirates will range alongside and board Antares. Once they are within musket shot range, you could have your men surge onto the deck and attempt to decimate the crews with musket fire. After they board, it will probably require the use of their bayonets to dispatch them.”

“We can do that,” Blayney said confidently.

Granger was interrupted by a shrill and grating voice. “I am convinced that Your Lordship is trying to kill me, with yet another battle while I am aboard,” Lady Elgin said.

“This is not a battle we are seeking, we are merely defending ourselves,” Granger said.

“Perhaps if Captain Comstock were still here, we would not be in this predicament.”

“That is most likely true, since he would still be attempting to get his vessel out of Minorcan waters,” Granger said. “But as that did not happen, and we find ourselves in this unenviable situation, I think it is imperative that you go below.”

“We will see if you survive this onslaught,” she said acidly.

“If I do not, you will not,” Granger said. “The Arabs do not take prisoners, at least among the men. Women, they would most certainly keep.”

“Then in this case, I will have to pray for your victory,” she said, and turned on her heel to go below.

“She certainly does not give a man much incentive to fight,” Blayney said, making Granger and Clifton laugh.

“I will return to Valiant, and do what I can to defend her and assist you,” Granger said. “Mr. Clifton, you will work in concert with Colonel Blayney. I will trust you gentlemen to largely fend for yourselves.”

“Aye aye sir,” Clifton said.

“Let us develop a plan, Clifton,” Blayney said. Granger bid them farewell, and found his gig waiting for him. He descended into it, and settled in for the ride back to Valiant.

“You were very speedy, Jacobs,” Granger said.

“Aye, my lord,” Jacobs said. “We wanted to make sure and pick you up before those pirates get here.”

“And for that, I am thankful,” Granger said. “When we return to Valiant, leave my gig in the water. We may need it.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Jacobs said. They hooked onto Valiant and Granger ascended the side to be greeted by Weston Meurice, and Eastwyck.

“It seems our old friends have come looking for us again, Mr. Meurice,” Granger said. He’d been in the last battle Granger had fought with the cretins.

“I suspect the result will be the same this time, my lord,” Meurice said with a grin. And with the pleasantries over, Granger turned his mind to the task of preparing Valiant for battle.

“Mr. Weston, please dismiss the hands for dinner. After they are done, we will clear for action,” Granger said. He estimated that they had a few hours, at least, before the pirates were upon them. “I would be obliged if you, Mr. Eastwyck, Mr. Meurice, and Major Treadway would join me for dinner, where we can discuss our strategy.”

“Of course, my lord,” Weston said. Granger went back to his cabin to find Winkler waiting for him. “I will be entertaining my officers for dinner, and then we will be clearing for action.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Winkler said. “The advance notice may save me some headaches later.”

“I think you should remember this kindness when you are cursing me under your breath for some other perceived slight,” Granger said, teasing Winkler.

“That is probably wise, my lord,” Winkler said, being slightly cheeky. He went to spur Lefavre into action, then came back to help Granger into his dress uniform. They completed that just as Weston and the others arrived.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Granger said affably, as if there weren’t 2000 pirates preparing to murder them all in cold blood. “I thought we could enjoy a quick meal and discuss our strategy with the pirates.”

“Of course, my lord,” Weston said, as the senior. “We are most grateful for your invitation.

“I am remembering the last time we encountered pirates, we used the boats to turn the ship, and to attack ships that ranged along our bow or stern,” Granger noted.

“We were successful, but it was a near thing, my lord,” Meurice observed.

“Indeed, but I am not sure such a strategy will work this time,” Granger said. They looked at him, waiting for him to explain. “Valiant is much bigger and bulkier than Belvidera was. Our experience in warping her away from the dock when we first commissioned her has demonstrated how difficult she would be to maneuver in that fashion.”

“That required a considerable amount of labor for slow results, my lord,” Meurice said, agreeing with him.

“In addition, the xebecs we are facing appear to be much larger than those we have faced before,” Granger added. “They will be more difficult to sink.”

“What do you intend, my lord?” Treadway asked.

“I think we must rig guns here in the stern cabin to protect our stern, and use the bowchasers to ward off ships from the front as best we can. They may opt to stand off and pound us, in which case we will have to try and use our bow and stern guns to make their lives unpleasant.”

“That is a wise course of action, my lord, but I have an additional suggestion,” Meurice said.

“I am certainly open to ideas,” Granger said.

“I am thinking that we may use some of the guns to help us turn Valiant, my lord.” That focused all of their attention.

“How would we do that?” Granger asked.

“If, in addition to towing the ship about, we also fired cannon off to push us in that direction, it may speed our turns,” Meurice said.

“I’m not following you, Meurice,” Weston said. Neither was Granger, but he was fortunately saved from having to exhibit his own ignorance.

“Let us say we wish to pivot to the starboard,” Meurice began. “We could have the longboat pull on the stern to larboard, while we fired double-shotted guns from the front two or three larboard guns, and two or three guns from the aft starboard guns.”

“You think the cannon would give us enough force to turn the ship?” Eastwyck asked.

“I do not, but I think that they may assist the longboat enough that it is able to turn us faster. It is, to my mind, the speed of the turns which are vital,” Meurice said.

“It will be difficult to implement both plans, as we will need the rearmost cannon for our stern chasers,” Granger noted.

“I think it is worth it, since my concept is untested, to rig the stern guns, my lord. I do not think it will make a substantial difference to use the next most aft guns.”

“Then, gentlemen, I suggest we eat with some haste, so we have time to set up our defenses,” Granger said. “It would be useful to be able to test your system before we engage the pirates.”

“It would indeed, my lord,” Meurice agreed.

“What about Antares, my lord?” Treadway asked.

“Colonel Blayney is going to keep his men hidden to entice the pirates to run aboard. Antares will want them to board, where they will face a very disciplined military force,” Granger said.

“Indeed they will, my lord,” Treadway said.

“You will need to maintain a reserve force to handle any pirates who are able to board us,” Granger said to Treadway.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. They finished their dinner, and then Granger’s cabin was cleared of everything but his stove. After that, the men began the laborious task of removing enough of the stern to fire the guns through it, and of then moving the guns into position. That was a major task, since it involved not only moving the guns, but of rigging the tackle to maneuver and fire them.

Granger left Eastwyck to manage that task and went on the quarterdeck to see how much progress the pirates had made. They were much closer, and indeed their xebecs were much bigger. Granger estimated they’d be in action within the hour.

“Mr. Weston, please see that small arms are issued to the men,” Granger ordered.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said.

“My lord, we are ready to try a turn,” Meurice said.

Granger looked at the direction of the pirates approach. “Let us turn to the starboard.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said.

“Please make sure not to hit Antares when we fire the guns,” Granger said in a jocular way.

“We will do our best, my lord,” Meurice said with a grin. Granger watched with interest as Meurice directed the longboat to begin pulling, then as close to the same time as possible, the two front larboard guns and the two aft starboard guns fired.

Granger evaluated their progress and smiled. “I think, Mr. Meurice, that you have made Valiant as maneuverable as Belvidera was. Nicely done.” It would still be painfully slow, and if the pirates were nimble it would be ineffective, but every little bit helped.

They heard the sound of gunfire, and saw smoke from the bows of the leading xebec. The shot fell short by half a cable. “We will be within range shortly,” Granger noted.

He watched as the pirates adopted their classic strategy, which was just as he had hoped. Three of the xebecs angled toward Valiant’s bows, while the other five headed toward Antares. Granger looked at the big transport and could see Clifton on the quarterdeck, along with Blayney and a few seamen, but there was no sign of the troops. Blayney’s presence alone, wearing his bright red coat, should not be significant enough to deter the pirates.

“Long cannon shot, my lord,” Weston noted.

“We have no targets yet, so we will wait until they are closer to make our move,” Granger said. In the past, the craft had been frailer, so it had been worth using long shots to see if they could be disabled. These ships could absorb more punishment, so it was probably wiser to wait until the range was closer.

Three xebecs maneuvered themselves off of Valiant’s bows, while the other five maintained their course toward Antares, which was astern of Valiant. “Mr. Meurice, be ready to turn to larboard,” Granger called. A ball slammed into their bow, but Granger heard no scream. Another shot, only this one went well off to their starboard.

Granger bided his time, waiting until the xebecs were well within range. “Now, Mr. Meurice,” Granger called. “Mr. Eastwyck, stand by the starboard battery.” Slowly Valiant came to the larboard, but she was going much faster than the xebecs had planned. They scrambled to get away from her broadsides, but it was to no avail.

“Fire!” Granger ordered. Valiant’s broadside crashed out, sending massive 24-pound balls toward the fragile craft. The gunners reloaded frantically and fired, generating so much smoke Granger couldn’t see. He climbed up the rigging and smiled as he saw two of the xebecs sinking, while the other one stood by to retrieve the survivors. But when he turned to look at Antares, Granger saw a sight that horrified him. Three of the five xebecs had not attacked Antares, but were instead heading straight for Valiant.

“Mr. Weston!” Granger called. “There are three xebecs approaching us from astern. Get the chasers into action!”

“Aye aye, my lord.” Granger grabbed a backstay and hurried back to the deck, getting some rope burns as a reward for his haste, but that was the least of their problems.

“Mr. Meurice, turn us to the starboard, as fast as you can!” Granger didn’t wait to hear his acknowledgement; he was already moving on to the next task. “Major Treadway, focus your men aft. You may pull men from the larboard guns. We are about to be boarded.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Treadway said. He gave his lieutenant a few clipped orders, forming up the men, and then went below to organize the gunners.

Granger went back to his cabin, where the stern chasers were firing at the approaching xebecs. They’d damaged one, but the other two were close in. He heard the sound of rifle fire from above, as Treadway’s snipers took out some of the Barbarians, but it would not be enough. “Load the guns with grape,” Granger ordered Travers, who was tending to the stern guns.

“Aye aye, my lord,” he said. They accomplished that quickly enough, and then waited as the two xebecs got close, so close Granger could almost see the color of their eyes.

“Fire!” The guns crashed out, sending grapeshot into the mass of Arabs on the bows waiting to board Valiant. They had taken a horrible toll, but it was not enough. Now the first ship grappled with them, and then the pirate savages came pouring into his cabin.

Granger pulled out his sword and dispatched one of them to meet Allah, but there was another behind him. They had no choice but to fall back. “Fall back behind the marines, my lord,” Treadway called.

“Come on men,” Granger said, and they hurriedly moved through the marines and out of their way. The marines stood ready to advance, a disciplined force to be reckoned with.

“Fire!” Treadway ordered, and the muskets went off almost in unison. There would be no chance to reload. “Charge!” The marines surged forward with their bayonets, but it was not enough to stop the flood of Barbarians. Now their reserve squad was falling back. Now they were fighting for every inch of the deck, and they were losing.

Clifton and Blayney had seen all of this evolve, and had stood there in shock and dismay as the three xebecs avoided Antares and instead headed for Valiant. “They won’t be able to hold them off, sir,” Clifton said.

“I think you underestimate Granger,” Blayney said. “As for us, we have our own battle to fight.” Blayney watched as the two xebecs closed in, thinking they were about to have an easy prize to catch. Closer and closer they came, brandishing their swords and yelling. Blayney waited until they were seventy-five feet away, and then gave the order. “Men of the 89^th foot, man the sides!”

Springing from their concealment with precision discipline, 250 soldiers formed ranks along the side of Antares. The pirates did not seem daunted by this disciplined force, they merely moved in for the kill. Blayney knew the value of that first volley, and he would not waste it on long shots. He waited until the pirates were less than twenty feet away. “Front rank, fire!” Some sixty muskets crashed out, their balls slamming into the pirates.

The men of the first rank moved back to reload, and the second rank moved up to the bulwark. “Second rank, fire!” Sixty more muskets crashed out, and then these troops moved to reload.

“Third rank, fire!” Sixty more muskets sent sixty more balls heading toward the xebecs.

The crippled xebec that had drifted away from Valiant now found itself crashing into the bows of Antares, but Blayney was ready for that as well. “The 30^th will repel boarders forward!” he called to his captain. The fresh troops that had not been engaged surged up from below and all but swept the boarders off the deck.

“Sir, we can board these boats,” Clifton suggested to Blayney. The two xebecs that had come along side them were covered with wounded and wailing pirates.

Blayney smiled, and then called to his troops. “The 89^th will advance! Charge!” It was an unorthodox command for boarding, but it worked. Blayney leapt onto one of the xebecs, while his men swarmed on behind him. He had not expected a foe like this, which would fight to the end. They asked for no quarter, and so the soldiers began a methodical slaughter of the Arabs. They were so enraged, they threw the wounded over the side, so by the time they had captured the two xebecs, there were no pirates alive aboard either ship.

The battle aboard Valiant was not proceeding as well. Granger found himself exerting every last ounce of energy as he slashed at the advancing Arabs, but there were simply too many of them. He felt the tide of the battle turning against them, and let his mind wander back to when he and John Travers had captured the Intrepid. They had boarded her with a small party of men, and they had fought onto her deck, but then the press of French sailors had turned the tide, just as the Arabs were doing now. He had looked defeat in the face, and had seen his own life flash before his eyes. He watched in anguish as one of the Arabs cut down Eastwyck, leaving him wounded on the deck as they stepped on him to advance. There was nothing Granger could do for him. They were being pushed back, further and further from Eastwyck, who lay wounded in the scuppers.

They were at the waist now, in the middle of the ship, but this enemy was not like the others Granger had faced. If he were battling a French or Spanish foe, he would have called for quarter, he would have surrendered to save the lives of his men, but in this situation, that was not possible. They would not offer quarter, nor would Granger ask for one. If he did, they would just slaughter them wholesale.

He saw Winkler and Jacobs fighting off a horde of corsairs over by the starboard carronades, with Winkler wielding his dirk with a skill Granger didn’t know he possessed, but he was forced to pay attention to the latest cretin in front of him. He was a huge, hairy creature, wielding a bloody scimitar. The man’s breath stank as badly as the rest of him, and as soon as he saw Granger, with his dress uniform on, his eyes lit up, as he knew he’d found the prize. If he killed this man, the rewards would be astronomical, more than he could imagine. The vengeful Bey of Oran had placed a huge bounty on Lord Granger, a bounty that would be his.

Granger parried his scimitar aside, even as he felt Weston jostle him as he thrust at the pirate he was fighting. “My lord, there are two more xebecs approaching,” Weston said.

When those boats deposited their men, the tide of battle would irrevocably turn, and all would be lost. “We will fight on, nonetheless,” Granger said, even as he battled the powerful Arab in front of him. The man swung his scimitar with all of his power, and Granger had no choice but to deflect it with his sword, only the man had put so much energy into his swing, it hit Granger’s blade with a force he did not expect, and could not counter. Granger’s sword deflected the scimitar, but the force of that deflection tore the weapon from Granger’s hand, so now he stood in front of the Arab, without a weapon, all but defenseless.

A shot rang out behind him, and he saw the Arab fall to the deck. “I believe this is your sword, my lord,” Treadway said, even as he tossed the pistol aside.

“Thank you, Major,” Granger said, although he wondered if he should be grateful. He was merely prolonging the inevitable. He felt Valiant lurch as the other two xebecs crashed into her stern, and had all but given up hope, when he heard an unexpected voice from beyond the Arabs.

“The 30^th will advance, by the center!” he heard Blayney order. And there, beyond the Arabs, forming up on the poop deck and the quarterdeck was one of the most beautiful sights Granger had seen. Rows of stolid British regulars, with their impeccable red coats and white breeches, their bayonets fixed, advancing on the Arabs, attacking their rear.

Granger and his men let out a ragged cheer and surged forward, energized by the arrival of this fresh and lethal force. Pinned between them, the Arabs were now the hunted. It was their tide that had turned. With a precision that was as impressive as it was terrible, Blayney’s men moved forward, slaughtering the pirates. The men that followed tossed them over the side, whether they were wounded or dead. Granger felt no remorse. These were not men, they were animals. They didn’t follow the rules of war, so they would perish in the same way they fought.

And then the last of them were vanquished, and Granger found Blayney standing in front of him. Granger was almost giddy, so relieved was he at surviving. “Colonel, your arrival was most timely.”

“I am glad we could be of assistance,” he said.

Granger grinned at him, and then his countenance became serious. He put his sword in his scabbard, and gripped Blayney’s hands in his. “I owe you my life.”

“It is an honor to have assisted such a noble warrior,” Blayney said. But there was much to do, and duty called Granger, demanding his attention. He let Blayney’s hands go, and then turned to attend to his ship, and his men.