The Valiant Sailors

  THE VALIANT SAILORS

  Historical Fiction by V.A. Stuart

  Published by McBooks Press

  THE ALEXANDER SHERIDAN ADVENTURES

  Victors and Lords

  The Sepoy Mutiny

  Massacre at Cawnpore

  The Cannons of Lucknow

  The Heroic Garrison

  THE PHILLIP HAZARD NOVELS

  The Valiant Sailors

  The Brave Captians

  For a complete list of nautical and military fiction

  published by McBooks Press, please see pages 265–267.

  THE PHILLIP HAZARD NOVELS, NO . 1

  THE

  VALIANT

  SAILORS

  by

  V. A. STUART

  MCBOOKS PRESS, INC.

  ITHACA, NEW YORK

  Published by McBooks Press 2003

  Copyright © 1986 by V.A. Stuart

  First published in the United Kingdom by

  Robert Hale

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or

  any portion thereof in any form or by any means, electronic or

  mechanical, without the written permission of the publisher.

  Requests for such permissions should be addressed to

  McBooks Press, Inc.,

  ID Booth Building, 520 North Meadow St., Ithaca, NY 14850.

  Cover: Crimean War, Main gun deck of HMS Terrible: Make Ready to Bombard Kinburn at Mouth of the Bug River, published in the Illustrated Times, 10 November, 1855. Courtesy of Peter Newark’s Military Pictures.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Stuart, V. A.

  The valiant sailors / by V.A. Stuart.

  p. cm. — (The Phillip Hazard novels ; no. 1)

  ISBN 1-59013-039-1 (alk. paper)

  1. Hazard, Phillip Horatio (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Sevastopol (Ukraine)—History—Siege, 1854-1855—Fiction. 3. Great Britain—History, Naval—19th century—Fiction. 4. Crimean War, 1853-1856—Fiction. 5. British—Ukraine—Fiction. I. Title.

  PR6063.A38V355 2003

  823’.914—dc21

  2003005259

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  Printed in the United States of America

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Contents

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  With the exception of the Officers and Seamen of H.M.S. Trojan and her passengers, all of the characters in this novel really existed and their actions are a matter of historical fact. Their opinions, too, are in most cases widely known and where they have been credited with remarks or conversations—as, for example, with the fictitious characters—which are not actually their own words, care has been taken to make sure that these are, as far as possible, in keeping with their known sentiments.

  The author thanks the Navy Records Society and its Council for permission to reproduce maps from the Society’s publication No. 83, Russian War, 1854. Edited by D. Bonner-Smith and Captain A. C. Dewar, R.N.

  THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO

  Admiral of the Fleet the Earl Mountbatten of Burma,

  as an expression of the author’s admiration and respect for “the most valiant sailor,” under whose command in Burma it was a privilege to serve.

  FROM THE NAVY RECORDS SOCIETY MAP

  MAP FROM SKETCH BY CAPTAIN (LATER ADMIRAL SIR) LEOPOLD HEATH OF H.M.S. NIGER, WHOSE SHIP TOWED H.M.S. LONDON

  PROLOGUE

  On 30th November, 1853, a small frigate squadron of the Turkish Navy, overtaken by a severe storm, was compelled to put into the Bay of Sinope for shelter. Sinope, a little town situated midway between Constantinople and Trebizond and 150 miles south of the Russian naval base at Sebastopol on the Crimean peninsula, had been in Turkish hands since 1471.

  Despite the fact that war had been declared between Turkey and Russia a little over a month before, the Turkish Commander, Vice-Admiral Osman Pasha, anticipated no danger to his small fleet in spite of his present close proximity to Sebastopol. Both the Tsar and the Sultan had announced to the world that, whilst reluctantly compelled to settle their differences by force of arms, each intended to confine himself to the defensive.

  In consequence, an unofficial truce existed between the two opposing navies which had hither-to been scrupulously observed by both sides. In spite of this, however, under cover of fog, six Russian line-of-battle ships, each mounting between 80 and 120 guns, entered the harbour and attacked the Turkish ships at anchor. Within an hour all these had been sunk or set on fire.

  The Russians were armed with shell-firing guns—the canonobusier advocated by the French General Paixhans, in 1824, which had never before been used in any naval action, and the Russian Vice-Admiral Nachimoff, his prey completely at his mercy, used them ruthlessly for target practice.

  Having destroyed the frigates, the Russian gunners directed a murderous fire at the few survivors who were attempting to swim ashore. The Commander of the Russian fleet did not call a halt to the slaughter until close on 4,000 Turkish seamen had perished, after which he turned his guns on the town. It was soon ablaze, the shore batteries reduced to heaps of rubble and the garrison in headlong flight.

  News of the disaster reached England, via Berlin, on 12th December and it roused a storm of public feeling, culminating in repeated demands for the British Mediterranean Fleet— then in the Bosphorus—to be sent into the Black Sea in order to protect Turkey from further unprovoked attack. This was not done immediately, however, for the British Prime Minister, Lord Aberdeen, was still seeking to avert a war with Russia.

  Eventually, on the 3rd January, 1854, the Allied Fleets, numbering eighteen sail-of-the-line with escorting frigates and steamers, entered the Black Sea, their purpose to afford protection to the Ottoman territory and flag.

  H.M.S. Britannia, a 120-gun three-decker, flew the flag of Vice-Admiral James Whitley Deans Dundas. His recently appointed second-in-command, Rear-Admiral Sir Edmund Lyons, transferred from the Terrible, 21—the steam frigate in which he had travelled from England—to H.M.S. Agamemnon, 91, a fine new steam-screw second-rate, launched less than a year before and sent out, at the Rear-Admiral’s own request, to receive his flag. In addition to these ships, the British Fleet included Trafalgar, 120; Rodney, 92; Albion, 90; Vengeance, 84; Bellerophon, 78; all under sail; Sanspareil, 90, converted to steam-screw, and eight frigates. Vice-Admiral Hamelin, commanding the French Fleet, flew his flag in the 120-gun Ville de Paris, his second-in-command, Rear-Admiral de Tinan, in the 16-gun paddle steamer Gomer. A second French squadron, under Rear-Admiral Bruat, was later to join his command.

  Based on Sebastopol were an estimated fifteen Russian sail-of-the-lines, seven large frigates—60’s and 54’s—seventeen smaller frigates and corvettes, and upwards of sixty steamers of various kinds, with a further twenty or thirty gunboats on the Danube.

  The clouds of war grew darker and more threatening as the world waited expectantly for vengeance to be taken on the perpetrators of the Sinope massacre, but the Russians kept prudently to their own territorial waters, avoiding any chance of an encounter with the British and French Fleets, which were thus left in virtual command of the Black Sea. Such fighting as there was took
place on land, between Turk and Russian and, during the spring of 1854—apart from some spasmodic fighting in Asia Minor—the main theatre of war was the Danube basin. There, the Turkish Commander-in-Chief—a shrewd, battle-hardened Croat, who had adopted the Turkish name of Omar Pasha—established his headquarters at the mountain stronghold of Shumla and, supplied through the Black Sea port of Varna, prepared to meet Prince Gortschakoff’s expected attempt to cross the Danube and march on Constantinople.

  The key to the Turkish army commander’s defensive strategy was the fortress of Silistria, the most vital as well as the most strongly held of his chain of fortresses on the Bulgarian bank of the Danube, sixty miles to the north of Shumla. This he determined to defend until the help he had been promised arrived from his British and French allies and, in particular, from their Fleets.

  Queen Victoria opened the British Parliament on 31st January, 1854. In her speech from the Throne she emphasized that—although her endeavours, in cordial co-operation with the Emperor of the French, to restore the peace between Russia and Turkey had been unremitting—she believed it necessary to make a further augmentation of Britain’s naval and military forces.

  During February, battalions of the Guards and the 1st Royal Fusiliers entrained for Portsmouth, where troop transports were waiting to take them to Gallipoli and Constantinople. The British people, clamouring for war, cheered them enthusiastically as they marched through the streets, with bands playing and colours flying. It was announced that Lord Raglan, Master-General of the Ordnance, was to command the Expeditionary Force of 30,000 men which, in the event of war, would be sent to Turkey. Vice-Admiral Sir Charles Napier was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the British Fleet destined, when war broke out, to serve in the Baltic. There was intense activity in naval dockyards and ports; ships, newly commissioned and being fitted out for service with either the Baltic or the Black Sea Fleets, were manned and prepared for sea in record time.

  Among these ships was the steam-screw frigate Trojan of 31 guns and 300 horse-power, built at Sheerness in 1851 and now commanded by Captain Thomas North, a post-captain in the Royal Navy. Having undergone a refit in the dockyard at Devonport and completed her sailing and gunnery trials, the frigate was lying at Plymouth in readiness for immediate departure when, on 17th March, orders reached her from the Admiralty.

  The first part of his instructions caused Captain North no surprise. He was to take on board a draft of Royal Marines and another, of seamen and boys from the Impregnable, and proceed with all possible speed to join the flag of Vice-Admiral Dundas in the Black Sea. This he had expected but the final paragraph with which his orders concluded caused him to swear, loudly and ill-temperedly, beneath his breath. He was directed to receive, in addition to the seamen and Marines, two female passengers of importance and was to dispatch his First Lieutenant to London at once, so that he might escort Trojan’s two passengers to the ship.

  Sealed orders concerning the destination of these passengers would be awaiting him at the Admiralty and the First Lieutenant was to call for them as soon as he reached London… .

  Frowning, Captain North rang the bell at his side. To the sentry who answered it, he said curtly, “Pass the word for Lieutenant Hazard. He’s to report to me immediately.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  1

  Phillip Horatio Hazard, First Lieutenant of Her Majesty’s steam frigate Trojan, was not ill-pleased by the unexpected opportunity to visit London before his ship sailed. He concluded his official business at the Admiralty in time to dine with his parents at their house in Kensington Gore, where his arrival was warmly welcomed. Since he was not required to assume responsibility for the Trojan’s two female passengers until noon the following day—when, he had been told, they would meet him at Paddington Station—he was able to spend some pleasant hours in the bosom of his family which he had not anticipated and, in consequence, greatly enjoyed.

  After taking affectionate leave of his mother and young sisters, he drove to the station with his father, a retired rearadmiral who, in spite of a heavy cold, insisted on accompanying him thus far on his journey. As their cab clip-clopped its slow way through the crowded streets, the Admiral talked enthusiastically of the impending war with Russia.

  “I envy you, Phillip. ’Pon my soul, boy, I wish I were coming with you. Why, I remember in ’98 …” His faded blue eyes were lit by a fugitive gleam of excitement as, for his son’s benefit, he recalled some of the epic naval engagements in which, during his long and distinguished career, he had taken part.

  Phillip listened dutifully. He had heard most of the stories before and, as a child, had listened to them enthralled, for they had inspired all his boyhood dreams. But he was in the Navy himself now—at twenty-seven a man, not a boy, with nearly fourteen years’ seagoing experience behind him—and the oftrepeated tales of past glories had long ago lost their magic for him. He had been stripped of his youthful illusions and, although he would have changed the life he led for no other, he was unable to share his father’s unqualified enthusiasm for a war in which, all too soon, he would be actively involved.

  He could not regard any war as … how had the old man put it? As offering a splendid chance of advancement to an ambitious young officer … he smiled ruefully to himself. Under the command of a man like Thomas North, he would be as well to curb his ambitions, in any case… .

  The Admiral broke off in mid-sentence. As if guessing the trend of his son’s thoughts, he said with an abrupt change of tone, although without apology, “But that’s all past history, is it not? We should talk of the future, of your future, Phillip … because I’m depending on you to acquit yourself well. You have a name to live up to, don’t forget. I named you after the greatest naval commander this country ever bred, although your mother, more’s the pity, insisted on Phillip as your first name. Phillip, after that uncle of hers, who was a poet … he shook his head disgustedly.

  “Yes sir,” Phillip acknowledged, his voice flat.

  Ignoring the interruption, his father went on eagerly, “I’d like to hear that you’ve been given your own command before this war’s over … it would mean a great deal to me. I regard you as my only son, Phillip, you know that, I think. Your brother Graham is lost to us but …” The stern old face relaxed suddenly in a smile of singular warmth and affection. “You are the source of much pride to me.”

  “I am glad of that, sir.”

  “Your own command, Phillip,” the Admiral urged. “That is what you must aim for … your own command. I had mine when I was your age, so it is not too much to expect, is it, with a war to help you?”

  “No, perhaps not, Father. Except that I …” Phillip bit back the words he had intended to say. He wanted to talk to his father about North, to seek his advice, but he knew suddenly that he could not expect the old man to understand, in the circumstances … to understand or even to sympathise. They were of different generations, he thought regretfully, and they saw everything through different eyes now—the navy, the war, the conduct of his brother Graham, perhaps even life itself. There was a gulf between them, which neither could hope to bridge during the few minutes left to them and this precluded his asking for advice.

  “Except that you … ?” his father prompted. “Except that you what, Phillip?”

  “It was nothing, sir, nothing at all,” Phillip evaded. “I shall do my best, you may be sure.”

  To his relief, the cab turned into the station entrance and came to a halt behind a line of other vehicles. A porter opened the door. Phillip hesitated and then alighted, to stand bareheaded in the open doorway, studying his father’s lined face and red-rimmed, fever-bright eyes with a pity he was careful not to betray.

  “Don’t wait, sir,” he begged, “because it will not improve that chill of yours if you do. Railway stations are drafty places and my train is not due for another forty minutes, at least.”

  “And you have these female passengers of yours to meet, have you not … the mysterious Baroness von
Mauthner and her charge?”

  Phillip inclined his head. “I was instructed to meet them here, as I told you, and escort them to the ship.”

  “It’s deuced odd, when you come to think about it,” Admiral Hazard observed. “Giving passage aboard one of Her Majesty’s frigates to two foreign females in time of war … but I suppose their Lordships know what they’re about. You haven’t any idea who they are, have you?”

  “No, sir, none,” Phillip was compelled to admit. “I have been told very little about them. Simply the Baroness’s name and that she is elderly and her ward young. It is to be hoped that I shall recognize them, when they arrive.”

  “Well, I must not keep you from your duty,” the Admiral said. He blew his nose with unnecessary violence. “Remember what I’ve told you, Phillip.”

  “I won’t forget, sir.”

  “And you’ll write …” The old man was seized with a fit of coughing. He added gruffly, when he could get his breath, “Your mother will be anxious for news of you. Women don’t see wars in quite the same light that we do, of course, and they worry. Your mother more than most, I sometimes fancy.”

  “I shall write as often as I can, Father,” Phillip promised, “to you both …” he had a momentary vision of his mother’s small, sweet face and forced a smile. “Goodbye, sir. I’m very glad I was able to see you both again before sailing.”

  “Yes, I am glad, too. Godspeed, Phillip. Take care of yourself.” A thin hand gripped his and then abruptly released it. Phillip nodded to the cab driver, anxious for his father’s sake as well as his own, to keep their parting to its usual brief and unemotional level. They were accustomed to partings, after all, and there had been many before this one.