Ottoman

by Christopher Nicole

  Harry agreed. Therefore he reported to Constantinople, preferring to send a messenger rather than go himself. He had no idea what situation he might find there, and he rather dreaded what news might come back.

  But the news was all good. The Persian campaign had been brought to a successful conclusion, and Ibrahim had been awarded a triumph for his successes there. He was still Grand Vizier, and it was he in fact who replied to Harry’s letter. So he and Suleiman must have become reconciled.

  Additionally, Prince Mustafa was seen in public and was being given important commands by his father. Harry felt tremendous relief: Roxelana had clearly failed in her harem intrigues.

  Best of all, the Sultan fully approved Hawk Pasha’s plans to expand Ottoman rule in the western Mediterranean through the capture of Tunis.

  *

  Harry and Barbarossa got to work with a will. While Barbarossa made a showy demonstration of force off the coast, Harry marched his small army along the mountain route he had reconnoitred the previous year. Thus the somewhat sleepy city of Tunis was assaulted unexpectedly from the land side, and fell very easily. Only then did Barbarossa risk taking his galleys into the shallows.

  For Tunis had never been fortified to resist an attack by land; it stood virtually on the site of ancient Carthage, with all the advantages enjoyed by that famous seaport. The city occupied a hummock of land jutting out from the mainland, protected on each side by an extensive salt lake. These were just deep enough to float the average galley, but they were surrounded by sandbanks and small islets, and the dredged passage through them into the main lakes was narrow and well protected by a fort.

  Yet, had Mulai-Hasan ever troubled to look over his shoulder, he could have made his stronghold impregnable.

  As they intended to make this city their headquarters, and needed the goodwill of its inhabitants, Harry refused to permit a sack; indeed, those of the existing garrison who wished to take service under him were welcomed. To his disappointment, however, the Dey Mulai-Hassan managed to escape, and all Hawkwood’s efforts could not find him.

  Later he discovered that Mulai-Hassan had made his way to Madrid and was there importuning Charles V to assist him in regaining his lost kingdom.

  As Harry immediately set about strengthening the defences of the city, especially on the landward side, he transported his wives and family from Algiers to his new capital. Algiers was just too close to Spanish anger, and Tunis was definitely the stronger of the two ports.

  *

  Once Tunis was secure, early in 1534, he commenced his own private project. He built four ships, each only a hundred feet long and twenty-five wide; they were nearly as narrow as a galley. Each was fully decked, and flush-decked. Below was storage space for munitions and for captives and booty when taken. The crew, himself included, was expected to sleep on the deck.

  For propulsion he used the lateen sail to which he had become accustomed in his yachting days. Experimenting, he found that he could sail within fifty points of the wind, which was superior to the performance of any galleon.

  To his surprise and delight, Yana here put forward a suggestion.

  “I understand it is your intention, my lord,” she said, “to build ships more able to withstand the storms of the ocean than galleys can. But on the ocean, or near to shore, there will be times when there is no wind, or when you will wish to move your ships from place to place against the wind. My lord, we do not employ galleys in Russia, but on our rivers our boats are propelled with great sweeps.”

  “Sweeps?”

  “These are long oars, perhaps one, perhaps two to a side, depending upon the size of the vessel and of the river it intends to use. Your ships could carry two a side. These oars are laid on the deck when not in use. When required, they are thrust over the side through rowlocks mounted on the gunwales. Some three men each are required to pull them. You will find that they will move your ships through the water at a good speed.”

  Harry realised she had made a brilliant suggestion, especially for the type of work he had in mind. Sweeps and rowlocks were put in hand immediately.

  When he eventually called for volunteers to help take his little squadron to sea, he was surprised at the response. He allotted fifty men to each vessel and announced that he would command the expedition himself.

  Barbarossa and Dragut were dumbfounded.

  “What of Doria? they demanded.

  “You have told me his fleet cannot be ready for sea before this autumn. I will be back by August — and certainly before the October gales.”

  “Supposing you come back at all,” Barbarossa grunted.

  *

  Tughluk wished to accompany him; he was now eighteen years old and a capable seaman. Tutush, only two years his junior, was equally enthusiastic. But Harry could not bring himself to take his only two sons on what might prove a most dangerous adventure; from the Turkish point of view, he was challenging the unknown.

  “You will remain here in my place, and sail with Barbarossa,” he told Tughluk.

  The boy was sufficiently well disciplined not to argue

  Tutush he told to remain in the fortress, in charge of the palace.

  He did not tell them that he had a private reason for commanding this expedition himself, and for separating himself from his family.

  If he was going to raid France, why should he not visit England? It was now eighty-seven years since the Hawkwoods had left England to seek their fortunes in the East. But not one of them had ever been allowed to forget their heritage, and they had all been taught English as their first language.

  To return there, however briefly, had become an ambition of his since he had first tasted the delights of sailing.

  *

  The little fleet left Tunis at the end of May, Harry having learned from his Spanish prisoners that the weather in the great bay lying to the north of Spain first improved about June.

  It was already fine enough in the southern Mediterranean. They made their first stop at Algiers, and learned that there was no sign of any Spanish movement at sea. This suited Harry, well aware that his men were intensely nervous at the thought of facing the Atlantic. But, then, so was he.

  Next day they put out, running before a light easterly breeze. Soon they sighted the huge rock of Gibraltar, beyond which was Algeciras bay, a large and sheltered anchorage. Here they made out some ships riding at anchor, but none showed any interest in the four dark shapes creeping along the far side of the eight-mile-wide channel.

  Although the breeze had freshened somewhat, their speed dropped to a considerable extent, and the sea grew quite choppy; Harry soon realised that they were fighting a strong current. Indeed at one stage they remained motionless for several hours, only barely holding their own. Then the tide turned and the current weakened, but it still was not with them.

  He deduced that, because of evaporation, the waters of the Atlantic must always flow into the Mediterranean, only slackening somewhat when the tide was on the ebb. Equally he deduced that for the tide even to match the current, it must be running at several knots. There was clearly a great deal to be learned about ocean sailing.

  But at last they were through. The land dwindled away to either side, and they found themselves climbing great walls of slow-moving water, then shooting down the other side. The Turks were extremely alarmed at this first evidence of the immense power of the ocean, but after a few hours became used to the movement, especially when they discovered that these water walls, some thirty feet high, did not break.

  But Harry understood that were the wind to freshen to any extent, they would indeed break — and would then become most formidable.

  The little squadron steered steadily north-west, and they found themselves again closing the land. Two nights out from Gibraltar they sighted the lights of Sagres, on Cape St Vincent, where Harry knew that the Portuguese prince Henry the Navigator had in the previous century established an observatory to learn all that could be discovered about the sea, its tide
s and currents, and indeed about the weather.

  He gave the Cape a wide berth, not wishing to have his presence reported; but once round it and sailing north, he kept within ten miles of the coast, closing it every dawn and dusk to ascertain if there was anything worth attacking. The weather remained entirely on his side, the breeze having shifted from east to south-west, so that once again he had a fair wind.

  Two days later they came upon the rocky promontory of Cascais, guarding the river Tagus. Harry knew from his captured maps that a few miles up the Tagus lay the great city of Lisbon, capital of Portugal. To attack that was beyond his means, but on standing in to the anchorage at Cascais, he was amazed to find it crowded with shipping, some of a good size.

  “Plump ducks,” commented Diniz, who had been promoted to second-in-command of the admiral’s ship.

  “We must have one, at least,” Harry decided, and studied the situation. It wanted but an hour to darkness. But he was more interested in the way the ships lay to anchor. When he had first sighted them, they had all been with their bows facing west towards the open sea. But, as his squadron approached, the ships drifted in various directions round their anchor chains, and now they were all swinging so that their bows pointed upstream towards Lisbon.

  Clearly the tide had just turned, to the ebb. His observations had told him that each tide lasted approximately six hours, therefore it would flood again at about midnight, and begin to ebb about six the following morning. This was knowledge that could be put to his advantage.

  He set his signal flags, and the squadron — which had aroused some interest on shore, judging by the activity in the fort — stood out again for the night. When they were hove-to Harry called his captains on board the flagship to give them their instructions. Shortly before dawn he led them back again, steering on the lights of the fortress and a much larger light displayed further up the estuary to mark a sandbank, and carried along by the last of the flood.

  Silently the four little ships slipped through the dark water, Harry himself leaning on the steering oar of the lead vessel. During his brief reconnaissance of the previous evening he had marked the rocks tumbling down from the fortress, but had formed the impression that the bay itself was clear, from the way the ships were anchored. Thus he led his little squadron well past the fortress before turning back; with the wind in the south-west, this was not a difficult manoeuvre. The tide was now almost slack.

  He was also waiting for first light, and it was at this moment that he approached the anchored vessels.

  The previous evening he had marked his chosen victim, a large carrack on which he had observed a great deal of activity, as if she was ready for sea and awaiting only a fair wind. With the wind still westerly, or foul for her purpose, he estimated at least half of her crew would be ashore. He led his squadron straight through the many smaller vessels anchored outside the merchantman, still maintaining absolute silence.

  Before anyone in the anchored fleet was aware of it the four corsairs were alongside the carrack; the sails were dropped and the grapples thrown. The Turks swarmed over the gunwales from both sides. The anchor watch were disposed of almost before they could shout, and the ship was taken but five minutes later. As Harry had guessed, many of the crew were ashore; those who could escape the flailing scimitars of the pirates leapt overboard. Several died.

  The holds were a mass of fine stuffs, but Harry was principally interested in gold on this occasion — there was no time to take slaves, or to transport a great deal of booty into the waiting feluccas. Within fifteen minutes he was chasing his men back over the side, and had laid a powder trail from the deck to the carrack’s magazine.

  The grapples were freed, the sails were set and the corsairs surged away from the side of the doomed vessel. The wind was now foul for them as well, and it was impossible to sail directly out to the anchorage, but this was to the good. Harry directed his ships up the estuary, and away from the hubbub that had suddenly erupted as the people of Cascais realised what was happening.

  The guns of the fort opened up and boats began to put out from the shore to regain control of the carrack. By now Harry’s squadron was about a mile up the river, beyond cannon range. He came about and stood down the estuary; the tide had turned and the ebb enabled him to keep even closer to the wind than usual. He intended to pass outside the range of the fort on the outward journey as well.

  But the fort was soon distracted. The men from the shore had just reached the carrack, when it blew up. Even the feluccas were rocked by the force of the explosion, which sent masts and guns and pieces of timber flying skywards.

  For several minutes afterwards there was silence, so shocked were the Portuguese by what had happened. In those minutes the pirate squadron made good its escape.

  “What will they say of us now?” Diniz asked triumphantly.

  But Harry knew that so far on their voyage they had had nothing but good fortune.

  *

  Their luck changed further north, soon after they had passed the grim promontory known as Finisterre. The cliffs there, several hundred feet high, were shrouded in low cloud, but next morning these cleared and the south-westerly wind which had been bowling them along in a most friendly fashion, increased to gale force and above.

  Now the swell did begin to break, great ten-foot-high walls of water that came surging down on the little ships. This time Harry, after dropping the sails, elected to run before the storm under a bare pole. The other masters followed his example, but it was an anxious twenty-four hours as the feluccas hurtled into the Bay of Biscay, being constantly submerged beneath the foaming white. Their crews wailed their fear and begged Allah for mercy, and Harry clung grimly to his steering oar as he fought to keep the ship stern-on to the seas and avoid being rolled over.

  Not all the masters were as expert. One lost control just after dawn. Harry could only watch in horror as the felucca turned broadside on, was picked up by a wave in that position, and then rolled down the slope in a slurry of wood and water and drowning men.

  He looked back to see her floating upside-down, about to be smashed by another giant wave. There was nothing he could do to help her — or her people.

  *

  When the storm abated later that day, the three surviving ships could set their sails again.

  “By Allah, does such a thing happen often in these waters?” Diniz asked fearfully.

  “Too often,” Harry told him.

  The other two captains were all for turning back but Harry would not allow it. It was too soon yet: the Portuguese coast would be alive with men-of-war seeking the pirates. And, as far as he was concerned, the voyage had not yet properly begun. He held on into the bay in increasingly fine weather. They came across some scattered islands, and then a little river. This they followed, to appear suddenly before a sizable town guarded by a small fortress.

  The French defenders were taken entirely by surprise as the corsairs, having dropped their sails and got out their sweeps, surged alongside the stone dock, leapt ashore and assaulted the fort. People fled screaming in every direction. Harry had his men manhandle two of the cannon standing on the battlements round to oversee the houses, then fired them. Walls came tumbling down and fires were started. People streamed into the fields and hillocks outside the town, but Harry despatched a body of his men to see what could be gained in the way of slaves. They returned with a good score of pretty girls.

  Meanwhile the mayor of the town had hoisted a white flag and offered to parley. He nearly fainted when Harry ransomed the town itself at ten thousand gold pieces, and it took two days to raise the money by digging into the cellars of every local merchant.

  By then Harry’s scouts, proceeding further up the river in small boats, reported that one of the local lords was assembling a militia. Harry hastily re-embarked his men, with their slaves and their gold, with stocks of fresh food and the water casks refilled. Then he bade goodbye to the mayor and put to sea. Within an hour the shore was lost to sight. />
  The raid was repeated further along the coast, and when there was another gale, Harry kept his ships in a sheltered, deserted bay in complete safety. But here, if the storm did them no damage, they nearly met with disaster. They had dropped their anchors just before dusk, to awaken a few hours later to hear and feel their keeps grinding on the sand. A few hours later on three vessels were high and dry, lying on their sides.

  The Turks were terrified, and assumed themselves lost, especially when daylight came to reveal the extent of their plight. Harry understood what had happened, and he could also see the tide slowly returning. But he realised too that if a body of French soldiers were to come upon them now, they were indeed lost. Fortunately none did, and in the middle of the morning they were floating again and able to put to sea, since the storm had abated.

  But clearly there was still a great deal for him to learn.

  By now it was the end of June, and the ships were nearly full of booty. But he had that last ambition to fulfil before sailing for home.

  *

  From the Brittany coast he led his three ships northward, and after two days sighted hills which rose gently from the shore towards the interior.

  He wondered at his emotion, or perhaps the lack of it, as at last he gazed at his homeland. It was probably the greenest land he had ever known; not even France could compare. And it looked so utterly peaceful.

  When they passed a fishing boat a few miles from shore, its crew stood up to wave, even as they stared in amazement at the unusual craft and their even more unusual crews. Then they hastily set sail, away from the strangers.

  The feluccas stood on, and sighted an empty beach in a shallow bay. The breeze was light, and the clouds not the least threatening; there was no evidence of any rocks encumbering the bay itself, although they clustered to either side. Harry put in and anchored, having carefully measured the depth of water by means of a heavy stone tied to a line, and decided that there would be sufficient to float his ships even at the bottom of the tide.

  The small boat was launched and he was rowed ashore. He leapt from the bow on to the sand — the first Hawkwood to set foot on English soil in eighty-six years.