Horizon of Glory
"The Annals of Exploration and Empires," Book III, Chapter XVII, Page 211 In the annals of history, few epochs have been as rife with the promise of adventure and the peril of the unknown as the Age of Discovery. It was a time when the very fabric of the world was being stretched, its edges frayed by the bold hands of explorers and conquerors. Among these intrepid souls, one name, has been etched into the annals of legends. The Wars of the Roses, a conflagration that had consumed the heart of empires and forged kings from the crucible of blood and fire, had at last given way to an uneasy peace. It was in this aftermath, amidst the smoldering ruins of a world reshaped by conflict, that Byron's journey began. Armed with a relic of untold power, the "Navigation Logbook," he set forth into the uncharted waters of the world, where the mundane and the magical intertwined in an intricate dance. The high seas, a vast and uncharted canvas, stretched before him, a horizon that whispered of untold riches and the promise of peril. Great ships, their sails billowing like the wings of colossal birds, traversed these waters, their cannons thundering a challenge to the very gods of the deep. It was an age of ambition, a testament to the unyielding spirit of mankind's quest for dominion over the unknown. Beneath the waves, ancient beings from epochs long past slumbered, their legends carried on the creaking timbers of ships and the roar of cannons. Byron, undaunted by the shadows that lurked beneath the waves or the tempests that raged above, carved out a kingdom from the chaos that enveloped the world. His fleet, a specter of doom, became a symbol of his indomitable will, a force that would not be challenged lightly. This is a saga, a tale woven from the threads of history and magic, adventure and power, and the eternal quest for glory. It is a narrative that compels the heart and captures the imagination, a story that resonates through the ages, a reminder of the heights to which humanity can aspire when driven by the winds of ambition and the tides of destiny. Let this account, penned by the hands of the most esteemed historians and literature masters, serve as a beacon for those who seek to embark upon their own voyages of discovery. For within the pages of this epic tale lies the essence of the human spirit, a spirit that seeks, that conquers, and that endures.
HoG - Chapter 11
Chapter 11: Cannon Battle!
The officers of all ranks aboard the cruiser 'Severe' barked orders that echoed throughout the ship.
"All hands to battle stations!"
"Furl the mainsail, ready the cannons, clear all flammable materials from the open deck!"
"Strip the living quarters from the lower gun deck, prepare for combat..."
A group of crisply uniformed lieutenants and midshipmen, accompanied by Lieutenant Colonel Harold and Baron Adonis, marched to the aft deck's command post.
Their gazes, unfriendly and piercing, fixed upon the pirate ship looming not far ahead.
"Damn pirates, how can they run so fast? This battle should have been over half an hour ago," one of them muttered, the sentiment shared by most.
Just days after the succession to the throne was settled, the cruisers of the Channel Fleet received orders to blockade the coastal waters and seize all assets belonging to the Lancasters and their vassals.
Alongside the 'Severe', numerous other sixth- and fifth-rate cruisers competed in this task, each vying for a larger share of the spoils.
They had anticipated capturing the 'Maneater' within two hours.
However, an unforeseen turn of events led to a chase from 1:35 p.m. until past 4 p.m., before finally entering the one-kilometer firing range, fueling the navy's impatience.
The fifth-rate ship 'Severe', measuring 39 meters in length and manned by 200 sailors, boasted a single gun deck stretching from bow to stern. Armed with 20 twelve-pounder cannons and 12 six-pounder cannons on the open deck, it totaled 32 cannons.
In terms of manpower and firepower, it was more than sufficient to crush the opposition with ease.
Never had they taken the mere pirate ship seriously, and now, all tactical considerations were cast aside.
They yearned to assert their dominance over these waters with the most direct and brutal force imaginable.
"Load the cannons!"
Under the guidance of their gunners, the crews on the upper and lower decks hastily loaded every cannon on both sides of the ship. They rolled them out to the gun ports with practiced efficiency.
For a sailing warship, a formidable artillery platform at sea, the theoretical range of the cannons could extend up to a kilometer, but the practical effective range was only about a hundred to two hundred meters—close enough for sailors to see the fear in each other's eyes.
It was then that Captain Harold, with a flourish of his gilded command saber, signaled the attack.
"Prepare for a broadside, left side, three, two, one, fire!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...
White smoke billowed, and the orange-red flames of the cannons illuminated the sea's surface.
Sixteen hot, cast-iron cannonballs whistled through the air, hurtling towards the 'Maneater'.
Most plunged into the water, churned by the waves, sending up massive white plumes.
A few, however, struck the pirate ship with devastating force.
At such proximity, the cannonballs tore through the oak hull, scattering wooden shards and careening across the lower deck, wreaking havoc.
Fortunately, the lower deck of the pirate ship housed the cargo hold and living quarters, devoid of combatants.
Yet, one cannonball found its mark on the edge of the open deck, striking a six-pound bronze cannon that had yet to retaliate.
It shattered the wooden gun carriage, rendering the cannon useless.
The piercing screams of the injured filled the air.
"Ahhhhhh..."
Byron, his 'Spirituality' awakened, possessed heightened senses and an acute sense of danger. He had leaped aside in anticipation, evading the cannonballs, splintered wood, and the wildly rolling cannon barrel.
He snatched a "rigging chafe guard"—a high-friction cotton fabric—from the deck. With a deft flick, he halted the blood-red cannon barrel, preventing further destruction.
Several daring pirate gunners rushed over, securing the rampant cannon with thick ropes, taming the metallic beast.
But without its carriage, the cannon was of no use in this battle.
The two sailing ships continued to close the distance, propelled by the wind.
Seizing the momentary respite as the enemy reloaded, Captain Salman's eyes blazed with a savage, crimson light. He brandished his scimitar and bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos:
"Fire!"
The popular tactics of the era, lining up to fire, were a testament to the efficiency of muzzle-loading smoothbore cannons. Each volley was a critical opportunity, with accuracy and lethality increasing dramatically at closer ranges.
A sea battle was not merely a contest of equipment and marksmanship; it was also a fierce test of courage. Yet, individual bravery paled in comparison to the devastating power of cannons.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!...
The seven six-pound cannons, though weaker than the enemy's twelve-pounders, compensated with precision. One cannonball, as if guided by divine intervention, severed a halyard on the foremast of the 'Severe', causing the reefed topsail and heavy yardarm to come crashing down.
Injuries were secondary; the critical loss was the 'Severe's' maneuverability, which could not be swiftly restored.
"Well done! The gun crew responsible for that shot will receive an extra two barrels of rum after the battle!" Cheers erupted on the pirate ship, for this shot had significantly increased their chances of survival.
Engulfed in gunpowder smoke, the 'Maneater', positioned downwind, faced the relentless cannon fire from both sides. Byron, a graduate of the Royal Naval Academy, keenly assessed the situation.
"By securing the upwind position, they've gained a tactical edge. Despite the cruiser's reduced maneuverability, blocking the 'Maneater' is still within their grasp. A boarding action is imminent," he surmised.
Indeed, the 'Severe' had the upper hand. In naval combat, the maneuver known as "tacking" is akin to a martial arts opening move. Attacking from the upwind direction, where the wind originates, confers several advantages.
Intuitively, it's easier to strike the underwater hull of a downwind opponent with a parabolic trajectory, and the dense gunpowder smoke is blown towards the downwind side.
Fundamentally, the upwind position grants the ability to pursue or evade, known as "tactical maneuverability." The upwind ship disrupts the wind with its masts, yards, and rigging, creating a turbulent "wake" that extends downwind for about 200 meters.
This turbulence hampers the downwind ship's maneuverability, effectively buffing the upwind ship while debuffing its opponent. Without a sudden shift in wind strength, a downwind ship is trapped, unable to escape.
The battle unfolded as Byron predicted. After several more rounds of cannon fire, the 'Severe', now close to the 'Maneater', turned sharply and rammed into the pirate ship.
"Board them!" echoed the command. "Marines, throw the grappling hooks!"
Dozens of iron grappling hooks, attached to thick ropes, were hurled by the naval soldiers, latching onto the 'Maneater's' bulwarks. Yards, wide enough for dozens to stand side by side, were laid across the two ships. Impatient sailors, with sailor's knives clenched between their teeth, swung across like agile spiders.
Contrary to popular belief, cannons were not the decisive force in naval battles of this era, far from the fearsome reputation they would later earn as the "god of war." Unless a lucky shot hit the magazine below the waterline, causing a catastrophic explosion, these solid iron balls might not even sink a wooden ship, despite riddling it with holes.
Boarding actions were the true determinants of victory. Some military experts likened naval battles to "sieges at sea," with marines playing the pivotal role in securing triumph.
The sixth commandment of piracy decreed, "Those who delay the battle, those who flee in the face of the enemy, shall die!" After a volley of firearms, the pirates unleashed a storm of lead bullets upon the approaching navy, marking the beginning of the bloody close combat.
"Invincible with me!" roared a burly naval lieutenant, clad in silver chainmail and wielding a gleaming boarding axe. He leaped from the 'Severe' onto the 'Maneater', charging at Byron, who stood ready at the edge of the deck.
At that moment, Byron's 'Weather Intuition' predicted a change in weather in just ten minutes.