by Dudley Pope
Southwick gave one of the prodigious sniffs for which he was famous; a perfect combination of contempt and distaste but, if he was ever challenged about it, still just a sniff. "I'll be interested to see it. I've already had the sight of a very small-scale one of that part of the coast - the Master of the Invincible has it; captured from a Spanish prize it was - and that Santa Cruz is a rare hole in the wall."
Ramage went over to the desk, found Captain Eames's small chart, and gave it to Southwick, who looked at it as though it had just hit him in the face. "Wha - wha - just look at it! " he gasped. "The Invincible's, scrap of paper covering the whole coast tells us more than this does! "
Ramage patted Southwick on the shoulder. "Let's be honest: the only chart that'd do us any good is one that gives us the soundings all the way down the entrance channel and the whole of the lagoon. I doubt if even the Spanish have an accurate one! They probably rely on a pilot. You know the sort of thing - thump, 'That's a rock! ' - 'Yes, Captain sir, I'll remember it next time! ' "
Southwick continued looking at the chart and, using his finger and thumb, measured a distance against the latitude scale. "They never went within two miles of the entrance - look, sir, their nearest sounding gives 'em away! "
"Lots of guns in the two forts, " Ramage said mildly. "Hot work running a line of soundings under fire."
Southwick stared at him and Ramage flushed: he was so contemptuous of Eames that he now found himself making excuses for the wretched man, and Southwick was not only puzzled by what Ramage had said but angry with Eames on his own account.
"Under fire, sir? What's to stop 'em going in closer after dark? Or if that doesn't suit 'em, send a boat in. The Dons weren't rowing guard across that entrance! "
"Well, at least the Jocasta is fitted out, " Ramage said. "We won't have any work to do before we sail her back."
"The first word came from the Admiralty, didn't it, sir? Well, they've probably got it all wrong. I'll bet the Dons have only just started fitting her out, and she's not due to sail until this time next year. You wait and see if I'm not right, sir."
Southwick was cheering up; there was no doubt about that - he was grumbling with more relish. "This was reliable information, " Ramage said. "It came from Madrid, apparently. It seems the Spanish are trying to assemble a big convoy in Cuba and need a powerful escort: our frigates from Jamaica have been rattling the bars right off the entrance to Havana."
Southwick nodded in the doubting manner of a gamekeeper listening to a garrulous poacher explaining away the three pheasant in his bag. In Southwick's view no information from the Admiralty was ever to be relied on. Solid facts came only from other masters; it was the result of experience and observation carefully noted down in log books or on charts, and all else was illusion, the eternal Cape Flyaway that many people talked about but no one ever rounded.
"Well, the Jocasta is in there, and whether she's ready or not we have to find a way of winkling her out." Ramage was curious to hear what Southwick, a firm devotee of board-'em-in-the-smoke tactics, might propose.
The Master scratched his head, using the same motion that a seaman might employ to ruffle the head of a mop before wetting it in a bucket. "You always set a lot o' store by surprise, sir, but I can't see how we can surprise 'em at Santa Cruz. Why, that Captain Eames went just close enough to make them as jumpy as a shepherd hearing a fox barking at lambing time.
"No chance of making an accurate landfall in the dark and sending in boarding parties by boat - the current along the coast is too strong for that, " he added. "But if we arrive off the coast in daylight we'll be spotted, wherever we are, and the word will be passed to Santa Cruz. If the wind's fair for sailing in through the entrance channel, it's foul coming out. Towing out two frigates one way or the other past those forts - well, that doesn't bear thinking about. Even cavalrymen galloping along the beach on either side could use us for target practice. "So that leaves us with . . ."
Ramage waited several moments, and then prompted him: "Leaves us with what?"
Southwick tugged a large lock of hair in frustration. "To tell you the honest truth, I'm damned if I know. In fact I'm beginning to have some sympathy for Captain Eames. What have you in mind, sir?"
"First, you'd better save some sympathy for me. Second, don't get fixed ideas. The chart shows the whole thing is impossible, and I think that's what defeated Eames: he kept thinking about the chart, so he was beaten before Santa Cruz hove in sight."
There was a sudden shouting on deck and both men hurriedly moved to the skylight to listen. Ramage caught some of the words and heard someone running down the companionway to report. "The Juno's in sight, " he said. "We'll have our men on hoard by nightfall."
CHAPTER THREE
The sun had dipped below the ridge of hills that ended in Fort Barclay and twilight was beginning to fade the colours when a boat from the Invincible came alongside with a midshipman carrying a message from Admiral Davis. It was a brief one, telling Ramage that the Calypso had been given the number 132 in the List of the Navy. From now on any flag signal made to her would be prefixed with the number 132, and she would also use it to identify herself - after enough time had elapsed for other ships to be notified, of course. As he wrote her name in the signal book, Ramage saw that she fitted in a blank space (previously filled by a ship sunk, captured or sold out of the Navy for scrap) between the 110-gun Caledonia and the 80-gun Cambridge.
The second part of the Admiral's message ordered him to report on board the flagship, and Ramage guessed that it was not until the Admiral gave the order to make a signal for the Calypso's captain to come on board that it was realized that she had no number to go with her new name.
Ramage took the sword from his steward and buckled it on while Southwick bellowed for the Captain's coxswain and had a boat brought to the gangway. Why on earth did the Admiral want to see him now? The mosquitoes came out in thick clouds just as the sun set and usually vanished an hour later. It was in the nature of admirals, Ramage thought angrily, to want to see junior captains at mosquito hour. By the time he arrived on board the Invincible he would be itching from a couple of dozen bites.
Southwick was waiting at the gangway. "The quartermaster says that Mr Aitken is still on board the flagship, sir." He lowered his voice and murmured: "He tells me - why he didn't report it before I don't know - that one of the Invincible's boats filled with Marines went over to the Juno and came back with four men in irons . . ."
The tone of the Master's voice made it clear that he knew Ramage would draw the same conclusion: Aitken had trouble on board, and armed Marines taking away men in irons was most likely to mean a mutiny. Yet the Juno had anchored well away from the Invincible. If there was a threat of further mutiny on board surely the Admiral would have re-anchored her within range of the flagship's guns?
Mutiny among the Junos? The thought left him numbed. It couldn't happen; those men would never mutiny. Yet four men taken to the flagship in irons spoke for itself. Had Aitken turned out to be a petty tyrant the minute he was given temporary command? It was just as unthinkable that the crew of a frigate should mutiny and murder the captain and officers and hand the ship over to the enemy - yet the Jocasta was in Santa Cruz at this very moment, proving that the unthinkable was not impossible.
"The Admiral probably wants to question you about them, " Southwick said miserably, echoing Ramage's thoughts. Four men. Who were they? He could not guess the name of even one of them. He climbed into the boat and nodded to his coxswain to cast off.
Thomas Jackson was an American who, like Southwick and the boat's crew, had served with Ramage for several years. Sandy-haired and lean, the coxswain was usually a cheery man. Now his shoulders were hunched and he avoided Ramage's eye. The normally happy Italian Alberto Rossi, the irreverent Cockney Will Stafford - all the men in the boat looked as though they were rowing off to the flagship to be flogged round the fleet. They too had seen the Invincible's Marines and drawn their own conclusions.
r /> As he sat in the stern sheets slapping at mosquitoes landing on his wrists and face, Ramage turned to Jackson. "Did you recognize the prisoners?"
"No, sir, " the American said. "The light was going. I had a look with the bring-'em-near but they were in leg-irons and that made 'em crouch down a bit. The Marines were shovin' them, too."
By now the boat was leaping through the water and Ramage felt very close to the men. They had been carefully chosen over a long period and all of them had been in action with him many times. He found he had to think carefully to remember just how many times and was glad of the distraction. Jackson had been with him when the Sibella frigate sank under them in the Mediterranean; he had helped rescue the Marchesa from Bonaparte's cavalry, and had regarded himself as Cupid's assistant ever since; with him again in the Kathleen cutter (when Southwick had joined) while they captured the dismasted Spanish frigate; a survivor when the Spanish ship of the line rammed them at Cape St Vincent ... it went on and on.
Suddenly Ramage shivered: Paolo was on board the Juno! Had he been hurt in the mutiny? He had recently survived three bitter actions in a week; but he was an impetuous boy, yet to celebrate his fourteenth birthday. "The Marcheezer's nevvy, " that was how most of the Junos described Paolo Orsini, and he had become a favourite, not only because he was the Marchesa's nephew but because he was quick, willing, cheerful and fearless. None of the men knew that he was the heir to the kingdom of Volterra and would become its ruler if the Marchesa died without having children.
If the Marchesa died . . . England was four hours ahead of Antigua, so by now she would be in bed and asleep. She was living with his parents, but would they be down in Cornwall or at the London house? If his father had anything to do with it they would be at St Kew; the old Admiral had little liking for London life.
Gianna, too, preferred the country: it was as if all her memories of the life she had led in that great pile of a palace at Volterra had vanished. There a dozen servants came running at her slightest gesture and her ministers listened with grave faces to whatever decision she made concerning the citizens of her kingdom. It was potentially heady stuff for a young girl, but she was born to it. She had ruled - and successfully - from the time her father and mother had died within weeks of each other. When Bonaparte's Army of Italy had swept south she had fled -into the arms of Lieutenant Lord Ramage who, with Jackson, had just survived the sinking of the Sibella, the frigate sent from Corsica to rescue her.
So much had happened since then. More actions and promotion for him; a certain amount of happiness for her. She had learnt to accept her exile from Volterra and she had fallen in love with him. She could not understand why he did not resign from the Navy, pointing out with cold logic that there were dozens of captains and scores of lieutenants who were on half-pay because there were no ships for them, nor likely to be.
Then young Paolo had arrived in England, having managed to escape from the French and determined to go to sea with the Royal Navy. Ramage had been reluctant to take him. He was a thoroughly pleasant lad who spoke English perfectly, but Ramage had a vivid imagination and could picture himself trying to find words to tell Gianna that Paolo had been killed, or badly wounded. So far his letters had told her of the good progress the boy was making, but now . . . ?
Captain Edwards met him on the Invincible's gangway, unsmiling and, apart from a brief apology for possibly interrupting Ramage's supper, uncommunicative as he led the way to Admiral Davis's cabin.
Aitken was sitting opposite the Admiral, his boyish face lit by a lantern hanging from the deckhead. He seemed relaxed - as relaxed as any lieutenant given temporary command of a frigate was ever likely to be in the presence of his commander-in-chief. The Admiral looked the same as usual, his round face glistening with perspiration from the heat of the cabin, his bushy eyebrows lifting as Ramage came into the cabin and lowering as he gestured to a chair.
"Sit down, sit down, " he said impatiently. "A drink? No? Suit yourself."
Ramage saw that all three men were now looking in front of them. Without turning the Admiral said irritably: "You didn't remind me to give the Calypso a pendant number. Couldn't make a signal so had to wait for a boat to get over to you. It'll make me late for supper and I have guests." He added, as if talking to himself: "Damned dull crowd they are, too. Tradesmen and parsons, and all of 'em up to their necks in smuggling with the Jonathans."
He turned suddenly to Ramage: "Young Aitken here has just brought in four mutineers from the Jocasta. Found 'em on board a Jonathan off Guadeloupe."
Ramage almost sighed with relief. That explained the Marines, and the four men in leg-irons. He felt guilty of disloyalty to his Junos for thinking that any of them would have mutinied. His Calypsos, he corrected himself; Aitken would be ferrying them over within the next few hours.
"Have to bring 'em to trial, " Admiral Davis said, "and I need you to make up the number for the court. You won't be able to sail until they're sentenced, but you might get some useful information. Question 'em about Santa Cruz."
There were only five post captains in English Harbour at the moment - six if you included the lieutenant whom Admiral Davis had just promoted and put in command of La Comete. A minimum of five captains was needed to form a court martial, and Ramage was not sure if the new man could sit before the Admiralty confirmed the promotion. Obviously the Admiral thought he could not.
The Admiral could not preside at a court martial - by regulation that was a job for his second-in-command, in this case Captain Edwards. And they had to find someone to act as deputy judge advocate - the Invincible’s purser, probably, or the Admiral's secretary. A court martial provoked a shower of paperwork.
The Devil take it: he did not want to spend days sitting on a court martial when he should be busy getting the Calypso ready for sea. Yet the chance to examine the four British seamen about the Jocasta's position at Santa Cruz would . . .
"I'm doubtful if Ramage can question the prisoners before the trial if he is to be a member of the court, sir, " Captain Edwards said quietly.
"Hmm, must admit I can't think of a precedent, but what difference does it make if he questions them before the trial instead of during it? As a member of the court he can ask all the questions he wants."
"There's no apparent difference, sir, " Edwards said patiently, "but we've no judge advocate to consult, and there'd be trouble if we hanged the men and the Admiralty later ruled the trial invalid because a member of the court was involved before the hearing."
"Oh, very well. No questions before the trial, Ramage." Ramage realized that, with every ship in the Navy carrying a list of the names and descriptions of all the mutineers, several must have been captured and tried by now, and the evidence given at their trials would be available.
Nine of them so far, " the Admiral said in reply to Ramage's question. "The first four were brought into Barbados a year ago. One turned King's evidence so we could convict the other three, and they were hanged. The fourth hadn't been a mutineer, or so he claimed. Then three more were found serving in a Spanish privateer and taken to Jamaica. The man who turned King's evidence was sent to Port Royal to give evidence against them and they were hanged, too. Mutiny and treason. Then a pair of them were taken off Brest, and the man was sent to England to give evidence."
"So there is no one over here to give evidence against these men, sir?"
"No, " Admiral Davis said crossly. "It would take too long to send to England for the witness."
Ramage realized that it was going to be a difficult trial. If all four men kept silent - remained loyal to each other, in fact - he did not see how they could be convicted. One of them must be persuaded to turn King's evidence. Or Admiral Davis should send all four men to England so that they could be tried there. That was the surest way of seeing that justice was done.
The Admiral obviously guessed Ramage's thoughts. "We need a trial out here as an example. I've been hearing some disturbing reports from some of our ships. A few hotheads h
ere, a few there. Easy to stir up a ship's company, especially during the hurricane season when the heat makes everyone edgy.
"We still don't know why the Jocastas mutinied, " he added crossly. "Three trials, and all we know is that there were half a dozen ringleaders and the rest of the men followed them. And some loose talk that Wallis was a bit free with the cat-o'-ninetails. Mind you, he had to be, after the Nore and Spithead."
Captain Edwards was shaking his head, and Ramage knew he too had compared the dates. "The Jocasta affair was a month before we had news out here that the Fleet had mutinied at Spithead, sir."
"Same kind of hotheads, though, " the Admiral growled. "Irishmen, members of that damned London Corresponding Society - traitors, the whole bunch of them."
Edwards said nothing. Perhaps, Ramage thought, he too had reservations about the late Captain Wallis, who had sailed from Jamaica, where he had been one of Vice Admiral Sir Hyde Parker's favourites. He had been sailing under Sir Hyde's orders at the time of the mutiny, and Sir Hyde would have made sure that no information detrimental to Wallis reached the Admiralty from Jamaica - even though, he reflected bitterly, the only way of preventing mutinies in other ships was to find out exactly why it had happened in the Jocasta. Obviously that was what angered Admiral Davis. He would know better than anyone else in the West Indies if Sir Hyde was covering up for Wallis.
"The men you captured, " Ramage asked Aitken, "what were their ratings in the JocastaT'
"Two topmen, a quartermaster and a steward, sir - or so they claim. They were rated ordinary seamen in the American ship."
"Where did they join the American?"
"La Guaira and Barcelona. They left the Jocasta - she has a Spanish name now, of course - several months ago. A year or more, in fact."
The Admiral grunted and took the glass of punch that a steward was offering him. "Very well, then. I've told Aitken to transfer the Junos to the Calypso tomorrow in the forenoon, so you get your men and your First Lieutenant back again. I can't see the trial starting for a couple of days." He took out a large watch and grunted yet again. "My guests will be getting impatient: I must go back to the Dockyard. Tell you the truth, staying on shore is a mixed blessing. All those people - and twice as many mosquitoes. Don't know which are more irritating."