The Admiral, pale and ill-looking, was doggedly working in his left-handed scrawl through a pile of correspondence, as he now had half a dozen allies with whom to deal in addition to the scattered ships of his Fleet, and was preparing to defend Messina from attack by the French. After greeting Roger courteously but abruptly, he asked in what way he could be of service to him.
Determined to give the little fire-eater no grounds for inveigling him into further work as a secret agent in the Mediterranean, Roger cannily refrained from asking directly for a passage home. Instead he said that, having got as far as Naples, he had intended to return overland to France but, as that had proved impossible, his only alternative was to go home by sea. Then he could slip across the Channel to deliver Bonaparte’s despatches and, resume his secret activities in Paris.
The Admiral wasted no words, but said glumly, ‘I myself may shortly be sailing for England. In that case I will take you with me. In any case I will arrange matters for you. Pray excuse me now.’
Roger had not long to wait. Two days later a corvette arrived from Gibraltar. She carried a despatch for Nelson and a few hours later Sir William joyfully passed on its contents to Roger. Owing to a misunderstanding the ‘Great Plenip’ as they had derisively nicknamed Sir Sidney Smith, had taken more upon himself than had been intended. Nelson was still Commander-in-Chief for the whole of the Mediterranean. Hood’s Squadron would continue to act under his orders, as also would the pretentious Commodore. The Admiral was writing a despatch for the corvette to carry and, having watered, the ship was to proceed again to sea the following evening. Roger was to sail in her.
On the afternoon of the 16th Roger said good-bye to the kindly Hamiltons, then went aboard the corvette Firefly, whose Captain was a Lieutenant Shotter. The Lieutenant, a big, middle-aged, cheerful man, welcomed Roger aboard and showed him to a small cabin. Having stowed away his few belongings, Roger went on deck and, as the early dusk of the February evening fell, watched Palermo fade away in the distance.
That night as he settled down in his narrow cot he sighed with satisfaction. After twelve months away from England he was at last on his way home. It might be another two months or more before he got there and, at this time of year, it was certain that there would be periods of bad weather during which he would suffer from seasickness. But that was a small price to pay to escape for good from the perils he had had to face for so long. Once home, he was now determined never to go abroad again until peace was restored.
When he went on deck next morning he found that, during the night, favourable winds had enabled the corvette to cover the sixty miles along the coast to the north-west tip of Sicily and that she was now off the little port of Tripani. By noon she had rounded the islands lying off the peninsula and was heading south. After a pleasant meal with the cheerful Lieutenant Shotter, Roger went below again for an afternoon nap.
Roused by the striking of eight bells, he went up and joined the Lieutenant on the poop. The weather was cold but fine and, after a few minutes, he noticed that the declining sun was almost directly astern. Turning to Shotter, he said.
‘Am I crazy, Lieutenant, or are your methods of navigation most unusual? The sun is behind us, so we must be sailing east; whereas for Gibraltar we should be proceeding west.’
The Lieutenant gave him a slightly pitying smile. ‘I’m sorry to have to disillusion you, Mr. MacElfic, but we are not going to Gibraltar. My instructions are to take Firefly to Egypt.’
17
Shanghaied for Further Service
Roger’s blue eyes grew dark with anger. Suddenly he found his voice and demanded, ‘What the hell is the meaning of this?’
‘I can hardly make my meaning plainer, sir,’ replied the Lieutenant. ‘Firefly is bound for Egypt.’
‘There has been a mistake,’ Roger rapped out. ‘An absurd misunderstanding. Admiral Nelson promised me a passage home. I must request you to put about at once and land me at the nearest Sicilian port.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, but that is out of the question.’ Shotter remained quite unruffled in the face of Roger’s angry stare. ‘The misunderstanding must be on your part. Sir Horatio gave me my orders personally and they were to take you to Egypt.’
‘Were they, by God! Then he’s tricked me and——’
‘I don’t like to hear you say that, sir,’ the Lieutenant interjected swiftly.
‘I don’t give a damn what you like,’ Roger roared. ‘The Admiral has no right whatever to dictate my movements. I am not his servant, but Mr. … Well, no matter. But I have friends powerful enough to have you dismissed the Service. Do you refuse to put about and land me it will be the worse for you.’
‘Mr. MacElfic, I’m sure you don’t mean that, because you know that I must obey the orders I’ve been given. If you thought you were on your way home I sympathise with you; but you’re not, and it will make things much more pleasant for both of us if you act sensibly.’ As he spoke, Shotter drew a letter from his pocket and added, ‘Sir Horatio said that, when you learned our destination, you might be somewhat upset and he told me to give you this. No doubt it will explain matters.’
Seething with rage, Roger took the letter, broke the seal and read:
Mr. Brook,
I trust you will not think too badly of me for the small deception I have practised upon you. Sir William Hamilton will have informed you that I am still responsible for the conduct of operations in the Levant. Owing to the extraordinary position you have created for yourself as the confidant of Bonaparte, I am convinced that you can be of far greater service to your King and Country by returning to him than by going to Paris. In any case, I cannot find it in me to deprive my Command of such a valuable source of intelligence as you have it in your power to provide. I am, therefore, sending you to my subordinate, Captain Sir Sidney Smith, with instructions to him to make use of you as he sees fit.
I am, etc.
Nelson
After what Shotter had said the contents of the letter were more or less what Roger expected; but that did not lessen his rage. When he had read it through the Lieutenant said:
‘Now, sir, may I suggest your showing that you bear me no personal ill feeling on account of your situation by coming below and joining me in a glass of wine.’
Roger shook his head. ‘I appreciate your offer, Lieutenant, but for the moment I am in too churlish a state to do justice to any man’s hospitality. However, in an hour or so, if you will permit me?’
For a good hour he remained in his cabin in a positively murderous mood at the thought of the way in which he had been trapped. But his anger gradually subsided and at last he could even appreciate the grim humour of the turn events had taken. He had thought himself so clever in lying to the little Admiral about wishing to get back to Paris, but it was Nelson who had had the last laugh. All the same, Roger was not prepared to submit tamely and he felt that an occasion was almost certain to arise when he could leave Firefly long before she arrived off the coast of Egypt.
He was soon disillusioned in that hope. When he joined Lieutenant Shotter in his cabin the Lieutenant filled two glasses from a decanter of Canary Sack then said, ‘There is just one point, Mr. MacElfic, which I think we should settle right away. We can then leave this unhappy subject for good and, I hope, prove pleasant company for one another on the voyage. However favoured we are with the weather, we shall have to look in at Crete to pick up fresh victuals and water and, should we be blown badly off our course, perhaps at other places. I trust you will not attempt to jump ship.’
‘Do you mean that I am your prisoner?’ Roger asked, his ire again beginning to rise.
‘I should prefer not to put it like that,’ the cheerful Shotter replied. ‘It is simply that I am under orders to deliver you to Sir Sidney Smith. My Admiral was most positive about that. Therefore I must ask you to give me your parole or, if you will not, I shall have to take the precaution of putting you under guard whenever we are within swimming distance of the shore.’
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For a moment Roger considered. Had he been in an enemy ship he would have refused to give his parole, and backed himself to escape. But to do so from a British ship while under guard would be almost impossible without seriously injuring one or more of the British sailors; and that he was not prepared to do.
With a nod he said, ‘Very well, then. I’ll make no attempt to me.’ They then shook hands on it and drank ‘good luck’ to the voyage in their first glass of wine, voyage in their first glass of wine.
The voyage of Firefly proved uneventful, except that she was twice blown back and forced to shelter for a few days under the lee of Crete. Having escaped being caught in the open she evaded the worst of the storm and Roger, although distinctly queasy, managed to survive the week of bad weather without being seasick. Just under three weeks after leaving Palermo they sighted Alexandria.
They received the latest intelligence from a blockading frigate. Bonaparte had adhered to his plan and, early in February, had launched his invasion of Syria. On the 20th, after a twelve-day siege, the powerful fortress of El Arish had surrendered to him. The French had then proceeded up the coast and were now laying siege to Jaffa. Having learned this, the new Commander in the Levant had left Alexandria to succour the besieged city. Shotter promptly rehoisted sail and set off after him.
Three days later Firefly was off Jaffa. There was no sign of Sir Sidney Smith and tricolour flags were flying over the city; so it had evidently been captured. They hailed an Arab dhow that was lying half a mile out from the harbour and, as Roger was able to act as interpreter, secured an account of what had taken place.
The French had appeared before the great walled city on March 3rd. The garrison, which was said to have numbered over four thousand men, had made several determined sorties, but had been driven back. After two days of severe fighting the French artillery made a big breach in the walls. Bonaparte, presumably to save his Army from the casualties inseparable from an assault, sent a messenger under a flag of truce to offer terms. But the ferocious Djezzar Pasha, who, from Acre, ruled all Syria, had ordered the messenger’s head to be cut off and sent back to Bonaparte. The French then carried the city by storm. Djezzar succeeded in getting away but the greater part of the garrison surrendered.
It was then discovered that some two thousand of them were from the garrison of El Arish. Apparently, not wishing to be burdened with so many prisoners, Bonaparte had, after taking the great fortress, freed them on condition that they would take no further part for a year in the war between France and Turkey. However, they had promptly broken their word and marched off ahead of him to strengthen the garrison at Jaqa. On March 9th, two days after the fall of Jaffa, Napoleon had had the whole two thousand taken out to the sand-dunes and shot.
When Shotter heard this his language about the French became unprintable. Roger, too, was profoundly shocked and felt that such an appalling massacre must always remain a stain on Bonaparte’s name.
Proceeding up the coast on the following day, March 12th, Firefly came up with Sir Sidney Smith’s Squadron. It consisted of two frigates: Tigre—in which Sir Sidney, having promoted himself, was flying the broad pennant of a Commodore— Theseus, and a number of smaller vessels. A boat was lowered and Shotter went aboard Tigre. Three-quarters of an hour later he returned and called up to Roger to come down and join him in the boat, which then made a second trip to Tigre and they both went aboard.
Sir Sidney received them in his stern cabin. He was a fine-looking man of thirty-four, very richly dressed and wearing the sash and diamond-encrusted Grand Cross of his Swedish Order. When the introduction had been made he said to Shotter, ‘I thank you, Lieutenant. You may leave us.’
During the three and a half weeks of Firefly’s voyage, her Captain and Roger had become firm friends; so as Shotter was about to leave the cabin, Roger wrung him firmly by the hand, thanked him for his many courtesies and said he hoped they would meet again. Shotter warmly reciprocated the hope and closed the cabin door behind him.
Sir Sidney then tapped a letter that was lying on his table and said, ‘Mr. MacElfic, do you know the contents of this?’
‘No,’ Roger replied coldly, ‘but I can make a good guess. It is from Admiral Nelson and in it, without any warrant to do so, he places me at your disposal as a secret agent.’
‘It does much more than that. Sir Horatio informs me that for several years you have been in the service of the Prime Minister, and may be entrusted with both military and diplomatic secrets of the highest order. It also states that you performed the extraordinary feat of getting yourself appointed one of General Bonaparte’s aides-de-camp. You must be a very exceptional man, Mr. MacElfic, and I am honoured to have your company on this station.’
Considerably mollified by this welcome, Roger replied, ‘I thank you, sir. I am much relieved to feel that, from what Admiral Nelson has said of me, you are not likely to request me to risk my neck counting the guns in a fort for you, or finding out if some local Sheik can be bought for a small sum of money. For my part, since I have been sent here against my will, I am at least consoled that it should be to an officer so distinguished for his brains, initiative and daring.’
Sir Sidney smiled. ‘That was generously said. But Sir Horatio says nothing of your having been reluctant to join me. Perhaps you would clarify the point.’
‘Put briefly, Admiral Nelson decided that my connection with General Bonaparte could be used to inflict greater damage on the French than would allowing me to return to Paris. So having promised me a passage to Gibraltar he virtually shanghaied me and put me on a ship bound for Egypt.’
‘Then I can sympathise with your resentment. But the little man will stick at nothing that he feels may help discomfit our enemies, and I am the gainer. When, pray, were you last in Paris?’
‘In early May. I sailed with Bonaparte to Egypt. But in March we might well have met.’ Roger gave a sudden laugh. ‘There was an occasion when I was threatened with being sent to join you in the Temple.’
‘Indeed! Well, you may thank your stars that you did not. I spent two years in that damnable prison, and during them I nearly died of frustration.’
‘That I can well believe, sir, knowing your zest for action. I, too, know that gloomy prison, though not as a prisoner. I penetrated it several times during an abortive attempt to rescue poor Queen Marie Antoinette.’
‘Did you now! Perhaps, then, you knew a most devoted servant of the Queen and dear friend of mine—a Swedish nobleman, Count Axel Fersan?’
‘I knew him well,’ Roger smiled. ‘And that brings us to Sweden. We might well have met there for I, too, served King Gustavus in his war against Russia; and, for a special service I was fortunate enough to render him, he did me the honour to confer on me the Order that you wear. But, alas, I had to bury my Star beneath the foul straw of a cell in the fortress of Schlüsselburg, for had it been found upon me it would have cost me my life.’
Holding out his hand, the Commodore shook Roger’s and said enthusiastically, ‘Mr. MacElfic, I can see that we are birds of a feather, and shall delight in one another’s company. You must dine with me and we shall find a thousand things to talk about.’
Roger was shown to a cabin, where he found that his few things had been brought over from Firefly. For an hour or so he lay down in his cot and considered his situation. Pleased as he was with his reception, he was still extremely loath to rejoin Bonaparte and again face deserts, thirst, a plague of flies and the many hazards inseparable from a campaign in Syria. Yet, short of flatly refusing to serve Sir Sidney, he saw no alternative. He could only hope that he might be able to strike some sort of bargain, then pray that his luck would hold.
When they met again for dinner, at which only the two of them were present, Sir Sidney opened the conversation by remarking, ‘I fear we can scarcely look on this as a celebration, because in the despatch referring to yourself I also received notice of my demotion. But perhaps you were told about that before you left Palermo?’
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‘Sir William Hamilton did tell me that there had been some misunderstanding,’Roger replied tactfully.
‘Let us call it that. The fact is that our little Admiral, although rightly weighed down with all the laurels he can carry, is still jealous of anyone else gaining a single leaf from that honour-bestowing shrub. With his three weeks’ sailing distance away in Palermo, dancing attendance on a buffoon King and a terror-crazed Queen, it is only sensible that the Levant should be an independent Command. But since the Nile, he has become raised to such heights by the adulation of the people that his superiors no longer dare cross him. In consequence, our strategy must suffer.
‘He has ordered me to strike my broad pennant and revert from the rank of Commodore to that of Captain. That I shall not do, because it would be bad for discipline for my Squadron to see their Commander receive such a slap in the face.
‘However, another matter perturbs me far more. The seat of war in the Levant is no longer Egypt but Syria. The only way in which Bonaparte can reach Constantinople is by a march along the coast and our only chance of preventing him from doing so is by giving our greatest possible support to the Turks in the coastal fortresses he will have to attack. The blockade of the Egyptian coast could easily be maintained by two frigates and some smaller craft. It had, therefore, been my intention to order Captain Hood to join me here with his line-of-battle ships. This is where they should be, and they would have proved invaluable. But, alas, I have been deprived of the right to make proper use of them.’
Roger took a good pull at his glass of claret and replied, ‘Sir Horatio’s treatment of me rankles somewhat; but I share the universal admiration of his genius as a sailor. Therefore I feel that I can say without prejudice that I judge you to be right. Pray tell me now of the present situation.’
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