Sea Rescue! by Anthony Barton

Author:Anthony Barton [Barton, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bulmer Press
Published: 2018-12-27T05:00:00+00:00

SHE clenched her fists.

Here are two great engines of war, equipped with the most modern inventions, from the match tubs with perforated covers to the mercury thermometers ingeniously constructed by the German glassblower Fahrenheit, and both our warships possess highly sophisticated weapons with waterproof locks and adjustable quoins intended for use only with due regard to measured charges and ballistic tables, but presently being fired prematurely by the strange blue flames from heaven crawling about in the rigging.

There is far more to this war than I ever imagined.

‘May the Saints preserve us!’ cried Mr. Weevil, after a gun discharged itself, wounding two of the crew.

Corrie and Tom glanced at one another. Corrie ran to help Tom. Together they ran to the ship’s bow chaser, and slewed the weapon around. Tom’s torso gleamed with rivers of perspiration. Sweat ran down Corrie’s face. They were both wreathed in smoke. Corrie hoped the smoke would confuse the aim of the sharpshooters in the Galatée’s tops.

‘Bar shot loaded,’ said Tom, and then he coughed. The powder fumes must have tickled the back of his throat.

Corrie bent over the gunlock. She had to admire the machinery. The gunlock was a miracle of modern precision engineering, constructed of solid brass and fitted to the right side of the vent by two bolts.

‘Priming the pan,’ she said, pouring in the small-grained powder.

Her task complete, she nodded to Tom.

‘Closing the frizzen,’ he said, suiting his action to his words.

‘All set!’

‘Cock the lock!’

‘Fire!’ said Corrie, and jerked the lanyard, obeying her own order.

The flash passed through the hole to the entrance of the vent and ignited the head of the quill tube.

‘Whump!’ barked the gun in a belch of flame and smoke.

An iron bar with a half-ball attached at both ends tore into the Galatée’s rigging, spinning round and round while making an eerie wail that sounded like ripping canvas. Lines in the enemy’s rigging parted and Corrie heard several blocks and sheaves tumble to the deck of the enemy ship.

Their piece recoiled only to be brought up short by its hawse. At that moment a musket ball struck the barrel and ricocheted away, causing the cylinder of the gun to ring like a bell.

‘Sponge out!’ said Corrie.

She and Tom continued their work, and their sweaty bodies shared the rhythmic movements of ramming home and running out. They paused to wipe the sweat from their brows, and grinned at one another.

Tom plunged his rammer down the barrel.

Corrie pierced the serge with her pricker.

Corrie was pleased to be fighting alongside Tom. Together they were doing their best to confound the French naval effort. Eight thousand women had served openly in the French army until a recent decree had banned them from duty. She had no doubt that most of those brave French women were continuing to fight incognito or in disguise, just as Corrie was fighting in disguise in the Royal Navy, and all were happy to defy authority and get the job done.

If women and men learned to work

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