Tenacious

Kydd tore his eyes away. 'A terrible sight, sir,' he said to Houghton, who was watching with Bryant. Houghton cast him a curious look. 'Even if they are Frenchies,' Kydd finished lamely.

The blaze was spreading about the poop and its light now tinged the faces of the officers in Tenacious as they stared at the awful sight. They resumed pacing: there was no need to make the job of any vengeful French sharpshooter the easier. The master pulled out a large kerchief and wiped his forehead. 'Does strike me, sir, that such a monster must have a mort o' powder aboard. The blaze reaches the grand magazine, why, it would put a volcano to shame!'

'There is that, of course, Mr Hambly. Do you wish me to allow them to extinguish the fire ?' A grim smile belied Houghton's words. 'Yet a reasonable course for her captain would be to strike now to save life—but I doubt he will do that.'

'Then, sir, do you not feel it prudent t' shift berth? If she explodes it will put every ship to hazard.' Bryant came in.

Houghton took three paces more before replying. 'Consider, Mr Bryant. Our people have been fighting for long this night. They're exhausted and can't in all mercy be expected to stand at a capstan. But should we cut our cable in the darkness we cannot easily range another through the stern-port and therefore we lose our advantage. And in any event I am obliged to point out that while our immediate opponent remains at her anchor, so must we.'

'Aye aye, sir.'

As always in the sea service, duty would stand well before consideration of personal safety. But the fearful logic of war dictated that the enemy could not be allowed to save themselves or their ship. The end, therefore, would probably be cataclysmic.

The pitch darkness was now rolling back with the light of the burning ship; as the blaze strengthened and leaped, the entire bay was illuminated and Kydd imagined a fearfully fascinated audience of thousands watching from the lines of ships—and they themselves were at its very centre, the massive three-decker the next after their own adversary.

Houghton turned to Kydd. 'I want to know the moment she shows any sign of yielding.' But even with her after deck uncontrollably on fire her lower guns continued to crash out against her tormentors: there would be no easy end for this proud ship.

'Pass the word for the boatswain and gunner. Mr Bryant, I rather fear that we must remain for the final act. I would have you prepare Tenacious.' There could be no more dangerous situation, a burning powder keg of gigantic dimensions about to explode near to them.

'Cease firing. Secure the magazines.' On the upper deck men glanced fearfully across at the flaring torch that was the enemy's after deck, then cleared their own of cartridges and all combustibles.

The boatswain sent men aloft with lines; fire-buckets were hauled up and emptied over the sails furled along the tops of the yards, the decks sluiced. 'I'll have a sentry on the cable, if you please, Mr Pringle.' There would be some who might be tempted to cut the cable and run. If they did, it would only send them blundering downwind straight into the deadly blaze.

Flames had now run along L'Orient's deck and were reaching up into the masts and rigging in a crackling flare that cast the scene in a ruddy orange. Kydd felt a creeping awe at the approaching moment of doom.

Houghton turned to them all. 'Gentlemen, I do believe we should now consult our situation. We shall run in the guns and secure the gunports. So, too, the hatches must be battened, but I believe we must take our chances under the half-deck.'

Carrying dripping swabs and leather buckets of water, men took their last look at the blazing ship as they went below. Then the gratings over the hatches were covered with the thick tarpaulin more usually to be seen in stormy weather, and secured with battens hammered into cleats. Kydd reflected on the hell below, in the stinking closeness each thinking that the very next instant could bring the titanic explosion that would crush them to oblivion, or capsize the ship and drown them all.

'God damme, but this business sticks in my throat,' Bryant growled.

Kydd saw that men from the ship were now beginning to jump from her decks into the sea and worm from the gunports to drop into the water. Yet still her guns fired, her colours flew. It was madness, an insane defiance against the inevitable, but from a sense of glory, honour?

Houghton watched with grim concentration. Then he turned abruptly to Bryant. 'We cannot stand by and see those brave fellows drown. Is the launch still at the boom?'

'It is, sir, but—'

'Then take it, Mr Kydd. Do what you can before ... the end.'

'Aye aye, sir.' His mind raced, crowding with images of the Caribbean inferno, his dread of fire threatening to unhinge him. He took a long, deep breath, then made his way to the bulwarks. For protection the launch and cutter had been placed on the unengaged, sheltered side of the ship. The launch was their biggest boat but it seemed so frail a bark to approach such a maelstrom of fire. He pulled back and sought out Rawson. 'Go below. Get a petty officer an' six. Don't tell 'em why.'

Rawson returned with Poulden and six hands, who gaped in awe at the burning ship. 'The cap'n wants us t' see if we can save some o' the Frenchies yonder,' Kydd said, forcing a tremor from his voice.

One of the seamen spoke up, 'Aye, well, they're sailors an' all, aren't they, mates?' Others rumbled a cautious agreement, held by the grim spectacle.

'Then into th' boat, lads,' Kydd ordered. 'You too, Mr Rawson,' he added.

Alongside the dark bulk of Tenacious the boat seemed no refuge and Kydd fought down a rising panic.

'Heading where to, sir?' said Rawson quietly.

'The Frenchy, if y' please.' Any swimmers would be fanning out in all directions and would be lost in the dark. The only real chance for saving more than one or two would be to stand off the burning flagship. They left the shelter of the side of their ship and came into full view of the blaze, which now bathed the whole bay in firelight as bright as day. When it became apparent where they were heading one of the seamen looked behind him and cried out, 'Be Jasus—she's goin' ter blow!'