Chapter 21 - The Hunter or the Hunted
Captain Lewis stared through his spy glass at the French brigantine as she sped away from the Essex. She is fast he thought perhaps too fast for the Essex to gain upon her but for the sake of his prize ship he had to give chase. He noticed everything, the Sun which had just begun to fade towards the west. He noticed the south wind filling the sails but more importantly he noticed that which most men did not, he noticed the movements of the waves and the currents.
Even in the open seas, there were subtle currents like small rivers of water in the midst of the ocean, rivers that would carry the Essex ever closer the French ship. He scoured the waves looking for a flowing eddy of waves pushing forward in a long line of waves, a river in the midst of the open seas.
Again he looked across the horizon for any sign of a flowing river in the midst of the sea.
The crew of the Essex could see that the French brigantine kept a steady distance between herself and the Essex as the Sun began to set even further in the western sky. The excitement of the capture of the French merchantman waned as the hot sun beat down upon the decks of the Essex. With the wind to their backs, the heat of the day began to take its toll upon the crew that had remained at battle stations.
Still Captain Lewis scanned the horizon for any sign upon the waves.
A smile came across Aaron's face for one hundred yards off the port side, he spied at last what he had been so desperately searching for, an eddy of waves pushing forward from a long line of waves.
"Mr. Hagney, ten degrees to port!"
The Essex slowly turned and found herself in a river in the midst of the open seas. With the wind and the current behind her the Essex began to close on the French brigantine.
The crew roused themselves at the sight of the French brigantine coming ever closer. The Essex sped through the water ever closer to her prey, ever closer to victory!
Within the hour the Essex had closed within 200 yards of the French brigantine. Close enough for the crew to see the French sailors scurrying about preparing for battle. She would be no match for the Essex with only 18 guns and what appeared to be a small crew. All the French had was speed.
An advantage that had been neutralized by the skill of Captain Lewis.
"Dutch, a word if you please!" cried out Captain Lewis.
He would not confer with his officers, he would only take the advice of his gunner, the Dutchman from Poquoson. The Dutchman left his post and ran to the aft deck upon his Captain's command. A broad smile had been upon his face for most of the afternoon as he admired the skills of his Captain.
"Aye, aye Captain." the Dutchman reported with a salute as he stood upon the aft deck.
"Dutch, when we gain a little closer, I intend to tack to the starboard bringing our port guns to bear upon her. I need to know when we shall be in range to take out her topsails. I need for you to signal to me when you believe we are in range. Return to your post and give me the signal."
"Aye, Captain, I shall give the proper signal." Dutch stuttered in his thick accent.
The Essex continued to gain upon her prey, the crew at their battle stations and the cannons of the Essex primed and ready. As the Essex closed in upon her prey the crew could see the captain of the French brigantine staring at his sails desperately hoping for a sudden burst of wind to carry him to safety.
Captain Lewis held a steady course edging ever closer to his prey, ever closer to his victory and a true prize, another ship of war in his possession. His eyes moved between the French ship and the Dutchman.
Dutch stood at the ready with his eyes fixed upon the topsails of the French brigantine, his only movement was of his right hand gently rising and falling with the rhythm of the waves as the Essex sped onward ever closer and closer to the French.
Captain Lewis began to grow a bit anxious, surely the Essex was in range and yet the Dutchman had not given the signal. The thought crossed his mind, "now . . . now is the time", a thought that he quickly suppressed with another thought . . . "trust your crew . . . trust your gunner. . .trust the Dutchman."
The Essex had come within 50 yards of the French brigantine when Dutch finally spoke.
"Now sir, now my Captain, now!"
"Mr. Hagney, ten degrees to the starboard, port guns prepare to fire, Dutch fire at your pleasure."
The Essex lurched to the starboard and her port guns aligned with French ship, but still the Dutchman remained silent as he aligned the four cannons of battery one.
"Prepare to fire, battery one fire!" Dutch cried out.
The cannons of battery one roared to life briefly drowning out the noise of the wind and of the waves.
Dutch did not wait to see if he had hit his mark, but scurried along the line of cannons to check the sightings of the four cannons of battery two.
"Prepare to fire, battery two fire!" the Dutchman commanded.
Dutch did not wait to see if he had hit the mark, but raced to check the sightings of the four cannons of battery three. He had no need to look for the crew of battery one had cried out "Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!" as their shells burst through the main mast causing the topsail of the French brigantine to come crashing down upon her decks.
Dutch lowered the sighting of battery three to snap the main mast with deadly shot and shell.
"Prepare to fire, battery three fire!"
The four cannons of battery belched forth their deadly shot. Dutch was halted in his sighting of battery four by a surprising order from his captain.
"Cease fire!"
Dutch looked at his Captain in disbelief, in the sudden silence, he heard a loud cracking sound, and then screams of men as the main mast of the French ship snapped and came down upon the heads of the French sailors.
Dutch looked across the waves, with a cold grin upon his face, he had taken her main mast, he had taken her speed away.
"Mr. Hagney, thirty degrees to port. Mr. Marshall prepare the starboard guns to rake her stern!"
The French brigantine, which had sped through the waters came almost to a halt. The French captain closed his eyes briefly amid the shouts and cries of his wounded crew as the Essex turned to cross his stern. He knew what was about to happen, he knew that the Essex would rake his stern with cannon. He knew that there was little he could do but he would never strike his colors, for surrender meant dishonor and honor was all he had left.
The Essex made steady progress ever closer to the idle French ship of war which bobbed up and down upon the waves.
As the Essex crossed her stern Mr. Marshall gave the fatal order.
"Starboard guns fire as you bear!"
Each of the 18 cannons of the starboard guns fired in succession with deadly effect sending shots through the stern, through the officers quarters and into the crew of of the French brigantine.
The French helmsman felt the release upon the wheel as several of the shots snapped the wheelhouse ropes. The brigantine was rudderless and was dead in the water.
"Prepare to come about, port guns prime and ready, one more time lads and tonight we shall count the silver of the French!" bellowed Captain Lewis.
The excitement of the crew and of their Captain was squelched by the cry of the watchman in the crow's nest.
"Sail ho! North by Northwest! She is French a ship of the line!"
"Damn" muttered Captain Lewis as he sought his spyglass only to hear the watchman again cry out.
"Sail ho! Directly North! She is French, another ship of the line!"
The French navy had arrived to spoil the spoils of the Essex.
"Mr. Hagney set a course due east, stow the guns, and make fast the sails!"
The hunter was once again the hunted.
Aaron looked upon into the sky, the Sun was setting fast in the western sky. Another hour of daylight and in the night he would give the French the slip and head for Bermuda.