“Damn the luck William, that bastard will prevent us from taking any prize this day.” Grimes uttered to his second in command. William, completely taken aback, couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Any commander William had ever worked with would be trying to find a way to survive their current predicament. Captain Grimes was still working out his plan of attack!
“The closest Frenchy is a sloop; she can match our maneuvering and possibly our speed. We must disable her first, run out the long nines on the bow and aim for those masts. Fire at will, Will.” the Captain said, pausing slightly to emphasize his pun.
“Aye Sir.” William responded, completely bewildered. The Valor was about to be in a serious engagement and her commander was cracking jokes. He instructed the gun crew to load the bow chasers and run them out, the first shot would give them range to set up a possible hit on their second.
“Larboard gun fire when ready.” William instructed. With a thunderous roar, the cannon fired and recoiled violently. The crew set about immediately, swabbing the bore with a sponge then a powder bag and wad with another nine-pound ball immediately after. William looked for the impact of the first shot, it sent a plume of water into the air just behind their target.
“Starboard gun increase elevation four turns, fire when ready!” William shouted.
5 Aug 1808
Governor’s Mansion -Kingston, Jamaica
Admiral Elliot Sharpe exited a large, comfortable carriage in front of Lord Governor Alton’s mansion. Governor Alton expecting his arrival, greeted him on the front steps leading up to the grand mansion. Colonial soldiers guarding the premises and it’s occupants snapped to attention when the two men came into sight.
“Admiral Sharpe! How good to see you, please, I am expecting additional company, a dinner party. Would you join us?” Alton said. The Governor spoke everything with an air of contempt and elitism that the Admiral could barely suffer. His ample build and the walk down the stairs caused the last words to come across a little hurried as he ran out of breath.
“It would be my pleasure Lord Governor.” Elliot replied. A stark contrast to the obscenely overweight governor, Admiral Sharpe was a tall, slender man. He spoke in measured, careful tones and always maintained his officer’s reserve. Years of command in the Royal Navy had embedded discipline and bearing into Elliot, his tone was the same whether he was accepting a dinner invitation or ordering a shore battery to open fire. His opinion of the governor couldn’t be lower, the things Elliot had sacrificed and worked for his entire life, Governor Alton was born into. It was a symptom of a class system that defined life in Britain and all of its colonies and protectorates. Governor Alton wielded commander in chief powers of the Caribbean fleet and so Elliot must suffer his presence and pander to his oddities and incompetence.
The two entered the mansion and proceeded through a large, ornate atrium and into a study. The room was filled with bookcases, a large desk sat at the rear of the room facing inward from picture windows displaying a gorgeous backdrop behind the mansion. The Jamaican evening was setting in, casting orange and pink hues over the hills and cliffs overlooking calm, almost serene seas. The evening glow served to illuminate the study and Admiral Sharpe took note of charts scattered across the Governor’s desk. A large map of the Caribbean painted on the north wall and flanked by more bookcases loaded with volumes. Governor Alton stood behind the desk and settled into the high back plush chair behind it. He removed his wig and dabbed at his forehead with a kerchief, barely abating the onslaught of perspiration.
“There is to be a few additions to your fleet Admiral. I have received correspondence from London, and you should be expecting an additional frigate this month and next. As well as two ships of the line the following month and two more the month after.” Alton said in between recovering his breath.
“I didn’t realize we were in need of additional ships, with the pirate problem nearly abated…” the admiral began to reply.
“I know you didn’t realize, but I have foreseen the need and have requested the additional sea power.” Governor Alton snapped, interrupting the admiral, “I want the frigates assigned to covering the East India Company shipments between Barbados and Kingston. The larger ships, third rates I believe, are to be deployed as a squadron to defend Kingston harbor.”
“Yes, Lord Governor. I will see to it. But, if I may Sir, might I inquire into the need for additional escorts for the East India ships, we haven’t lost any to pirates in quite some…” Admiral Sharpe began to respond, but was again interrupted.
“I am aware of threats to the East India fleet of which you are not Admiral. Those are your orders; I see no need for further discussion.” Alton huffed out, growing visibly irritated with Admiral Sharpe.
“Yes, Sir. Might I also inquire as to the standoff orders we are currently issuing to the fleet. It would aid in their defense if the fleet could rely on the East India ships for mutual support as well as approach to render aid if the East India ships are in distress.” Sharpe said, hurrying his cadence slightly to avoid being cut off again and internally irritated at the Governor’s rude habit. Through it Elliot maintained his military bearing, insulted as he was that the silver spoon Governor kept insinuating his subservience while also implying a sense that Admiral Sharpe was somehow ignorant of his duties.
“The standoff orders are to remain Admiral. The East India
