The Sultan's Daughter
Page 35
‘Bonaparte has twice smashed the Turks—at E1 Arish and at Jaffa. He is now advancing along the coast opposite us and obviously intends to invest St. Jean d’Acre. As you will know, it is a mighty walled city. Its fortifications were built by the Crusaders who held it for many years against the Saracen. At present, Djezzar Pasha commands there. He is a most vile man and capable of any barbarity; but he has an abundance of courage and determination. If he can hold it all will be well. If he fails all will be lost, for it is the key to Syria.’
‘How do you regard his chances?’
The Commodore shrugged. ‘I would say fifty-fifty. I’ve no reliable information about the size of Bonaparte’s Army, but it cannot be very large. Moreover he is so ill-found for provisions that he had to commit the enormity of massacring two thousand prisoners taken at Jaffa, because he could neither fed them nor spare the troops to march them back to Egypt and dared not leave them in his rear.’
‘Yes. I heard about that.’
‘Another factor is that plague has broken out in his Army. If it becomes an epidemic that may relieve us of our anxieties. But should it not, the French will remain extremely formidable. On the other hand, the Turks are mustering two Armies—one in Rhodes and the other in Damascus—both designed for the relief of Acre when it is invested. The question is whether either will arrive in time to relieve the fortress.’
‘Should they fail to do so, Bonaparte would still have to fight them afterwards.’
‘That is true, but the odds would then be in his favour. I am informed that he has sent emissaries to the Christian Druses and other peoples who are restless under the Turkish yoke. At the moment they are sitting on the fence, waiting to see if he can succeed in taking Acre. If he does, they will rise and join him. That could mean his gaining the adherence of no fewer than eighty thousand auxiliaries. With such a force at his disposal it would prove the end of the Sultan’s Empire. You will see now how everything depends on our holding Acre.’
‘I do, indeed. How far do you think you can assist in that?’
‘From off-shore the guns of my little Squadron should seriously interfere with the attacks of the French, but the crux of the matter will lie in Djezzar Pasha’s ability to defend the walls of the city. Since you know of my escape from the Temple, you may have heard that it was made possible by a good friend of mine: Colonel Phélippeaux. He was a Colonel of Engineers in the old Royal Army of France, and is a great expert on fortifications. He accompanied me to the Levant and, before I sailed from Alexandria early in the month, I sent him and Captain Miller ahead of me in Theseus. He is now in Acre inspecting the defences and, if his recommendations are accepted, I have hopes that by now they are being greatly strengthened.’
As the meal proceeded, Roger described to his host the collapse of the Neapolitan invasion of the Roman States, the evacuation of the Royal Family and the horror which had subsequently descended on Naples. They then talked of the Russo-Swedish war and the French Revolution. Later Sir Sidney gave Roger an account of his capture at Le Havre.
He said there was no foundation in the story that he had attempted to blow up the docks. He had been given command of the frigate Diamond and a flotilla of small craft, with orders to clear the Channel of French privateers that were then seriously interfering with British commerce. In the course of a year he had captured or destroyed a great number of them; but one, owing to her exceptional speed, continued to elude him. Learning that she was in Le Havre, he had determined to cut her out. Having no Lieutenant available upon whom he could rely, he had taken in the boats himself. The lugger was taken by surprise and captured almost without resistance. However, when Sir Sidney went on board and the lugger was got out into the river, she was caught by a flood-tide and carried upstream. They hoisted sail but the wind had fallen; so at daybreak she was still above the town and becalmed. The French then attacked her from both the water and the land with all the forces the big port could muster; so against such overwhelming odds Sir Sidney and his men had been compelled to surrender.
When they were halfway through a decanter of rich Malaga wine Roger said, ‘You will appreciate that, as I owe allegiance only to Mr. Pitt, I can refuse to accept your orders. But placed as I am I feel it would be unpatriotic to deny you such help as you may in reason ask from me. On this I would be glad to hear your views.’
The Commodore remained thoughtful for a moment, then he replied, ‘The thing that would be of most value to us would be an accurate appreciation of Bonaparte’s forces and his supplies. Upon such information we could settle the best tactics to use in the defence of Acre. If he has strength and staying power it would, I think, pay Djezzar Pasha best to make a number of determined sorties and so prevent the French from creating a strong, entrenched position and from tunnelling beneath the walls. But if the previous engagements of the French, and now the plague, have seriously weakened them, Djezzar would do better to take no risk of his best troops being cut up outside the city, but sit tight and wait until starvation and disease cause the French Army to fall to pieces.’
‘That is sound reasoning,’ Roger agreed. ‘Now I must be frank. I have no intention of risking death going backwards and forwards in the desert, or of spending several months at Bonaparte’s headquarters endeavouring to get periodical reports back to you of how matters are going there. If in a single mission I can secure for you the information you require, will you agree to send me back to England at the first opportunity?’
‘Yes,’ replied the Commodore, without hesitation. ‘That is a fair offer and I willingly agree to your conditions.’
‘Good,’ Roger nodded. ‘The next question is how am I to make connection with the French? Although the Turks are our allies, you cannot simply put me ashore. It is certain that I should fall in with a band of marauding Arabs who would promptly murder me.’
‘We could disguise you as an Arab,’ Sid Sidney suggested.
‘Thank you, no,’ replied Roger with a quick shake of his head. ‘Your Arabic may have been good enough for you to pass as an Arab in Morocco, but mine is not good enough for me to pass as one in Palestine. And, as these people cannot read any laissez-passer with which you might furnish me, it would be useless.’
‘It is a pretty problem,’ the Commodore admitted.
After a moment’s thought Roger said, ‘There is one way in which it might be done: that is by an exchange of prisoners. To the French I am known as Colonel Breuc. If the French have a British prisoner of equivalent rank you could send a flag of truce and, perhaps, arrange an exchange. You would get something for nothing and without being subject to any danger I should be taken straight to Bonaparte’s headquarters.’
‘That is certainly an idea. Unfortunately, though, as it happens, the French have taken none of my people except a few seamen from boats sent in with reconnaissance parties. And it would look far too fishy should I propose an offer of a Colonel on the General-in-Chief’s Staff in exchange for those poor fellows.’
‘I fear it would,’ Roger agreed. ‘We are, then, at a dead end, and must continue so until we can devise some plan by which I can reappear at Bonaparte’s headquarters as an escaped prisoner without having first to be landed and make my way alone across country infested with murderous tribesmen.’
During the week that followed, neither of them could think of any way in which this could be accomplished. Roger took all his meals with Sir Sidney, who was his senior by only three years, and they had much in common. As they reminisced over events in which, although then unknown to one another, both had played a part, their mutual liking grew. Before long, too, Roger realised why it was that Sir Sidney was unpopular with his naval colleagues. He was by nature haughty and extremely intolerant of those typical naval Captains who were expert seamen but almost entirely ignorant of matters outside their profession. He spoke several languages fluently, was widely read, had an intimate knowledge of events which had led to the present international relationships and possessed a swift, inventive mind. I
t also emerged that he took good care of his men and that they reciprocated with respect and affection.
On the 15th they dropped anchor opposite the Crusaders’ great fortress city of Acre. It lay on a rock promontory, rectangular in shape and joined to the mainland by a wide area of flat desert and marsh. Thus, as Sir Sidney pointed out to Roger, ships anchored to north and south of the city would be in an excellent position to assist the defence by enfilading assaulting columns. They went ashore and, accompanied by Colonel Phélippeaux, carried out an inspection of the defences.
Roger was amazed at their strength and depth. The four-mile-long wall encircling the town was in most places a hundred feet high and so broad that three coaches could have been driven abreast round the top. Every few hundred feet great bastions juted out, enabling cross-fire to be poured down on attackers. The succession of culverts, moraines and fosses seemed unending and it appeared impossible that the city could be taken by assault.
But Phélippeaux pointed out that in many places the walls were crumbling and that several of the towers had become unsafe, so would come down easily under bombardment; that some of the moats had become choked, having been used for generations as refuse dumps and that fields of fire had been rendered useless because groups of shanties had been erected outside the walls, masking the lines of sight. He was particularly concerned about the north-eastern corner of the city, which was the furthest from the shore and largely an area of ruins. An enormous tower stood there but, if once seized, it would be very difficult to recapture, and possession of it would give the enemy dominance over the whole of that quarter.
However, he reported that Djezzar was doing his utmost to strengthen the defences and, as evidence of this, they saw many gangs of Arab men, women and children—hundreds strong—toiling at clearing twenty-foot-deep ditches and hacking down and burning scores of miserable huts.
Two days later a sloop came alongside Tigre, with the news that a French flotilla, composed of small craft, had passed Jaffa and, keeping close inshore, was coming up the coast. The Commodore at once ordered sail to be set and the Squadron headed south to meet it. Sir Sidney’s luck was in. They surprised the flotilla that night as it rounded the promontory at the southern end of the long bay. There followed a sharp encounter and the French endeavoured to beach their ships, upon which every boat possessed by the British was sent in and a skirmish ensued on shore that ended in the capture by the British of every ship in the flotilla.
It proved to be a prize of incalculable value as it consisted of seven gunboats mounting thirty-four cannon, which could be used in defence of Acre, and the whole of Bonaparte’s siege artillery, amounting to nearly forty heavy guns and a great quantity of ammunition. It would have required a labour force thousands strong to drag these heavy cannon all the way from Egypt by the camel-track that linked the coast towns; so Bonaparte had had no alternative but to send them up by water. Later it transpired that, on finding Sir Sidney Smith’s Squadron in the Bay of Acre, he had sent a message back to Jaffa, ordering the flotilla to remain there; but by the time the message arrived the flotilla had already set sail.
It was a body blow to the French, for not only did the loss of their siege train deprive them of the swiftest means of reducing Acre but, as the material had been captured intact, it could now be used against them. Phélippeaux was overjoyed and at once set about landing the cannon at the Mole so that they could be installed, as he directed, to strengthen the weakest places in the fortress’s defences, and Sir Sidney sent ashore to man them all the gunners he could spare.
Roger’s future was also decided by this action. One of the boat parties had rashly chased the French too far from the shore, then found itself surrounded by superior numbers and forced to surrender. The party consisted of a Lieutenant, a Midshipman, a Petty Officer and seven seamen, and Sir Sidney thought it possible that the ten sailors might be released in exchange for one French Colonel. A flag of truce was sent ashore at the southern point of the long bay, on which lay the little port of Haifa, near which the flotilla had been captured. Two hours later the Lieutenant who had been sent ashore returned to report that a French officer there had agreed to the exchange.
During Roger’s week in Tigre he had formed such a firm friendship with the adventurous Sir Sidney that he had, on several occasions, been tempted to tell him his real name and the whole truth about himself. But his natural caution caused him to refrain because, even under the seal of secrecy, the fewer people who knew that Roger Brook and Robert MacElfic were the same person, the better. But he now had to become Colonel Breuc again, and how he should account to Bonaparte for the five months he had spent as Robert MacElfic had given him considerable thought.
He decided finally to say that, according to plan, he had gone aboard a Greek ship in Alexandria, had posed as an Englishman and had passed safely through the British blockade. But a fortnight later the ship had been captured by Corsairs and taken to Tripoli where, for two and a half months, he had had a hideous time as a slave loading cargo in the harbour. He had then managed to escape by concealing himself in the hold of a merchant ship and, when she was well out at sea, he had given himself up as a stowaway. To his delight, he found that the merchantman was a French blockade-runner and bound for Marseilles; so he had no hesitation in declaring himself to be Colonel Breuc and her Captain had treated him with the greatest politness. On board he also met the owner of the ship’s cargo, a Monsieur Drapeau, whom it happened that he had known well in Paris some years earlier; so there could be no question of his identity. But when the ship was sneaking by night through the narrows south of Malta his luck turned. She ran straight into Sir Sidney Smith’s Squadron on its way to Egypt, and was captured. As he was known to Drapeau, it had been out of the question to pretend that he had lied to the Captain about being Colonel Breuc and that he was in fact an Englishman; so, since Sir Sidney was not calling at any port under British control, he had been carried on to Syria as a prisoner.
At that time ships were being captured almost daily throughout the Mediterranean, either by Barbary pirates or the ships of the warring nations; so there was nothing in the least improbable in such a story, which provided a complete explanation of his never having reached France.
By six o’clock he had first cut then chaved off the fine, brown, curly beard that he had grown as MacElfic, and was ready to go ashore. Compared with other missions he had undertaken, he did not expect this last hazard in the Near East to prove particularly difficult or dangerous. Now that the French Army was arriving outside Acre there was no longer anything to be feared from marauding Arabs and Sir Sidney’s gunboats would be constantly patrolling within cannon shot of the coast. He would be escorted at once to Bonaparte’s headquarters and a few days there should be sufficient for him to inform himself of the size and resources of the Army. The odds were that the headquarters would be no more than a few miles from the coast; so he should be able to slip away from them one night and, as a Colonel, no French picket would interfere with his making his way to the shore. Only then might he meet with difficulties. However, there were still plenty of native-owned fishing boats coming and going in the long bay and before dawn he should be able to find one whose master could be bribed to take him off to the nearest British ship.
Sir Sidney wished him the best of luck and a speedy return. Having taken a cordial farewell of the gallant Commodore, Roger went over the side into a waiting boat. Half an hour later he landed, with the Lieutenant who had carried the flag of truce, at a previously agreed point about halfway along the Gulf, some six miles south of Acre.
A small body of French troops, headed by an officer, was waiting there and with them were the British sailors who had been taken prisoner the previous night. The formalities were soon concluded. The sailors, hilarious with joy that their captivity should have been of such short duration, clambered into the boat and it pushed off. Meanwhile the French officer had saluted Roger and introduced himself as. Captain Elbée of the Camel Corps.
‘Then I congratulate you,’ Roger replied. ‘But, since you have such a fine turn of speed, I wonder that you are not being made use of in the advance guard.’
‘We are the advance guard,’ the Captain replied. ‘At least, as far as the coast is concerned. The bulk of the Army has now spread out and is enveloping the city. It was, I believe, expected that other advance units would reach the coast north of Acre today. If so, the siege will begin tomorrow. My troop will not now be moving on until I receive further orders.’
‘Do you know the whereabouts of the General-in-Chief’s present headquarters?’ Roger enquired. ‘If you do I should like to proceed there tonight, so that I can report myself without delay.’
The Captain shook his head. ‘I regret, mon Colonel, but that is not possible. I am told that the General-in-Chief intends to establish himself somewhere on the slopes of Mount Carmel, so that he can overlook the city. But as you can see we are a considerable distance from the Mount. Parties of enemy skirmishers have been coming out of Acre all day and roving the plain. It is certain they will continue to be active at night. If you proceeded on your own, you would run a grave risk of capture and I have not enough men to spare an escort for you.’
While talking, they had crossed the half-mile inland to the spot where, just out of range of the guns of the British ships, Elbée had made his camp. It was in a wide depression between two rolling sand-dunes on the crests of which lookouts were posted. In the flat valley bottom the remainder of the troops were gathered round a fire at which some of them were cooking supper, and beyond it a score of seated dromedaries were picketed in a neat line.