For some time Fial's black ship and his cohorts had been referred to as a rag tag fleet of pirates, but when the fleet sailed from Viana do Castelo on Saturday December 26th 1807 it was as organised as any fleet put to sail. Sailing over Christmas Fial planned to attack the Spanish port of San Sebastian near the French border on New Year’s Eve, hoping to catch ships of the French fleet off guard. He was aware slavers anchored in the port to resupply and barter with the Spanish.
They passed groups of British merchants and men of war, heading for Portugal with the initial supplies and soldiers for the planned assault by the Duke of Wellington, without incident. His fleet was well organised and the coloured groups all formed separate lines as they made progress abreast of each other; a formidable foe for any power to confront.
The quartermaster on Fial's first ship of the line, the Dryad, was on the quarterdeck of an escort frigate, the Ruby May. Litchfield Boyd had progressed to second lieutenant since his last encounter with Fial and recognised the black ship they called the Ghost as she slipped by well ahead of the main fleet on the horizon. The Ruby May struggled into the south wind of the coast of Fisterra, Spain as the Ghost quickly headed north past them with the wind some half mile to their seaward side.
The three British escort ships of the line in the convoy held their course, flanking the merchant men carrying soldiers and supplies. Boyd lowered the long glass from his eye and handed it to his captain. "Yes that's McGuire alright and that's his fleet bearing down on us from the south. I heard Captain John Mansfield once say he was a born leader when McGuire was just fifteen; a truer word I have never heard. He saved my face once on the Dryad, I wish him Godspeed."
The Captain of the Ruby looked blank. "Twenty four ships manned with some of the biggest cut throats on the sea. Privateers we are informed. I await the day we can turn on them," answered the captain.
"You have not met this man, nor seen what he can do. I suggest you think twice sir before attempting to engage a ship that has eluded every attempt at defeat; mainly due to the fact that he always attacks. I await the outcome of where he is taking this fleet."
The Conquistador came into sight leading her line no more than half a mile to seaward side of the Ruby; the captain of the Ruby could not believe his eyes. "My God that was the flagship of the Spanish navy not so long ago." The black flag with skull and cross daggers flew boldly from her mast. He could just see the Corsican ships, the Mercury and the Invincible leading their lines, he lowered his sight glass slowly. "The Ricard brothers; this is as powerful a fleet as I have ever seen. Now we know where these ships have been for the last few years. They all fly the same flag, are in perfect formation; some kind of coloured tip on each line’s flag the same. You’re right Boyd, I would think twice about how to confront this fleet."
"The fleet is a distraction. It's the Ghost that will do the damage, then this lot will clean up the mess. I predict that McGuire will cut the French navy to pieces."
"I thought Claremont was a fool, I'm not so sure now."
"I’d say he's headed for San Sebastian."
The captain looked at Boyd sternly. "Only a madman would attack San Sebastian, the place is a fortress protected by a large fleet of French warships anchored near the mouth of the bay under the fortress cannon."
"A madman or a wise man captain. The fortress cannon are useless while their own ships are in range. No one’s ever tried it before but McGuire knows there are many African slaves in transit there. He can disable most of the fleet in the dark and the rest would be sitting ducks at first light. You would care to have a small wager against my predictions captain? They will have no idea or time until it is too late. We have seen this tactic perfected by this man but still fail to capitalise on the tactics of his success. He will change the face of gunship warfare within the next two years."
"Bold words Boyd, but I would not be game enough to predict what this fleet can achieve. None of the captains in his fleet can be trusted or controlled."
"They trust McGuire and fly his flag. Non-allegiance would lead to dire consequences. McGuire is judge, jury and executioner all in the same day. They understand and trust this man. Do you trust Claremont, Captain?"
The captain put his sight glass under his arm while staring at Boyd and walked to the helm, fixing his gaze on the open sea ahead.
San Sebastian Bay has the island of Santa Clara in the centre of its access from the ocean. It is about a mile in circumference and shaped like an egg. It is a perfect spot to have a port as ships can be anchored in the bay, protected by fortress and cannon either side of the inlets and Santa Clara Island atop rocky undulating cliffs.
The Napoleonic Wars had made the port a strategic place for the French moving troops through Spain and supplying warships and trade. The bay’s entrance pointed north and was protected by a fleet of French warships anchored outside the bay some half a mile just before the water became too deep to anchor a ship.
On New Year’s morning of 1808 at four am the weather was blowing from the north and a heavy swell rocked the warships as they lay at anchor. Crews were minimal as most were in San Sebastian with a fleet of over twenty French warships, plus a myriad of traders and slave ships celebrating the New Year anchored in the bay. A healthy swell left longboats unable to put to sea and change the watch of tired sailors. Lights burned on the nine French men of war, clearly visible to the fortress lookouts also with minimal watch manning, most being involved in New Year celebrations with soldiers in transit to Portugal, well deserving some rest. San Sebastian had been a safe haven for those who docked there, enemy shipping never coming near the place nestled in the corner of the Bay of Biscay. The French knew only a madman would chance an attack.
At 5.00 am New Year’s Day 1808 out of the black windswept night, cutting the swell apart like a knife, the Ghost homed in on the lights of the westernmost French warship the Melina, passing below her bow, pointed into the wind from the north. The first the ship’s crew or lookouts knew of the attack was the four cannon shots that took out the waterline of the French giant.
The Ghost turned back past the unmanned guns of the Melina to the next ship the Pascal. Even if the guns were manned they could not use them as the ship’s guns all pointed at other ship’s bows, pointing into the wind no more that two hundred yards apart and would fire on each other unless they could put to sail and change direction. Forty minutes later the waterline of all nine ships had been damaged, some irreparably. The Ghost headed out to sea as the light began to crest the horizon, and raised a red flag signalling his fleet, now visibly approaching the coast.
The Conquistador broke from her line and headed well west of the inlet, turned and Captain Louis Zachariah commenced a bombardment of the fortress on the west side of the bay with heavy cannon. The rest the two lines of six ships from Fial's fleet turned from the west end of the French warships, delivering broadsides to the bows as they passed the line. They were now floundering with poor manning and most taking on water. By the time the Conquistador had sailed past the French fleet four were in flames and two had sunk below the lower deck. Fial's two groups re-formed heading north. It was slow going into the wind, joining the two groups already heading north that had not been involved in the attack.
Full light revealed the magnitude of the two hour assault; none of the nine French ships protecting the bay were serviceable, two were in flames, two had sunk and one had pulled anchor ending up wrecked on the rocks of Santa Clara Island. The attacking fleet was heading out of sight to the north; the French first class warship the Theodore had put to sail from the bay, mustering enough hands to sail, and was out to sea a mile from the decimated harbor entrance. She was attempting to pursue the attackers as other ships began to sail from the harbor. From the north horizon a black ship at speed with the wind was spotted by the crow’s nest and identified as the Ghost. The Theodore turned and just made the harbor entrance before the Ghost turned north and sailed out of sight.
It
was midday and General Louise René, one of Napoleon’s top brass in charge of military operations at San Sebastian, surveyed the decimated fleet restricting access to the harbor. He could see well the devastated ships below the fortress on the west hilltop. He lowered his long glass and spoke to Admiral LeMonde, chief naval officer for the French San Sebastian fleet. "Nous sommes stupides. Napoleon sera furieux. Ce qui fait vous proposez que nous fassions Amiral." We are stupid. Napoleon will be furious. What do you propose we do Admiral?
"Withdraw all ships to the bay, send a messenger to Brest. If this madman attacks San Sebastian he will attack Brest. We have a large fleet of mainly merchants off the coast there; if we cannot get them word he can do the same thing. You can see what the Conquistador has done to this fortress. This piss ant ship they call the Ghost manned by a mad Irishman has rockets aboard similar to those used by the British."
"You see this and you call it a piss ant ship. I would say the captain of the Ghost no matter from where he comes is a fearless genius. I want all the information we have on what happened here. You would be best advised to have most of your navy operate like this man if this is what he can do. Find a man who knows how to build ships like his then find men who can fight like him; or we will lose this war."
"Horsemen will not make Brest before this fleet."
"Brest is three hundred and fifty miles, at the worst possible outcome if the wind stays from the north they will make Brest in four days if the wind turns two. Have messengers ride day and night. They must warn Brest of what is coming. I will make a full report to Napoleon myself so if you don't see me anymore remember you are next Admiral."
"I thought this Fial McMurrin or whatever they call him was hung by the British on board the Victory. He must have passed convoys of British men of war on his way here indeed if it his him."
"The lookout on the Melina has seen this man before and confirms it is him. The crew of his ship are black Africans. His ship is black and called the Ghost of McMurrin. He just attacked a flotilla of our warships and laid them waste. He has another twenty-four warships with him, some the most powerful on the sea as you can see by the hole I am looking through in this solid stone wall. How much more confirmation would you like admiral?"
"Lieutenant!" A young naval Lieutenant hastily attended the Admiral's side at attention. "Have messengers ride day and night to Brest along the supply line changing horses every ten miles. Inform them a privateer fleet of over twenty ships attacked San Sebastian and is now heading for Brest. Expect attack in early morning by single brigantine ship called the Ghost. Be sure to mention that the Conquistador, the Castela, the Mercury, and the Invincible are among the fleet that will attack at first light. Be sure to mention it is believed the fleet are privateers condoned by the British." The naval rating hastily left to carry out his instructions.
"A blow on Brest like this and our only hope will be taking Russia. I envisage this fleet has been condoned as the British are busy in Copenhagen. This is totally unexpected. Build those ships Admiral and train the crews or perish."
"Fial McMurrin is a master seaman and can navigate by instinct. Men like him you can count on your fingers and toes. Even if we are ready at Brest things will change. He will then head for England for supplies. God knows what will happen then."
"You can chase him from here with a small fleet."
"I think not, the British may be in the area. If they know about this attack it would leave us open to invasion. Even if we did they could turn on us if spotted. I think it would be a poor move."