Ramage and the Saracens r-17

by Dudley Pope

  From a distance of fifty yards Ramage found the sight of the frigate sinking both sad and, in another sense, a relief. It was sad because the sinking of any handsome ship - and Le Jason was a handsome ship - was always distressing, and yet a relief because her guns could not kill or wound any more men of the Calypso. While the boats were being hauled round alongside, Southwick was shouting orders for the boats' crews to stand by, and while the men left the guns and ran to their stations, Ramage watched Le Jason. She had turned over completely and was lying in the water like a great turtle. Her copper sheathing was green except near the waterline, where it was pitted, restored to its normal colour by shots which had torn into it 'twixt wind and water.

  Great gouts of air escaped as the capsized hull rolled; then it gave a gigantic convulsion as though shaking itself free of something, and Ramage guessed that the masts had come adrift. A minute or two later he saw first one and then another mast break water close beside the hull, a tangle of spars and rigging, and now freed of their weight the hull began to slide below the surface, water erupting in' little volcanoes, propelled by random air pockets.

  The surface of the sea was scattered with floating wreckage. Here and there he could see men, random black figures, clinging to spars.

  Now all that was left was a great circle of smooth water, punctuated every now and again by a bubble of air coming up from the sinking ship. More pieces of wreckage, spars and other pieces of wood breaking loose came up to the surface, shooting out of the water like lances with the force of their buoyancy.

  By now Aitken had the Calypso lying-to, and Ramage told him: "Get the boats away and start picking up survivors. Two Marines in every boat as guards."

  Within five minutes the Calypso's four boats were rowing round, through the wreckage, dragging men out of the water and, with little ceremony, tossing them into the bottom of the boats.

  The first boat came back to the Calypso with more than twenty survivors. The two Marine guards looked almost sheepish because the rescued Frenchmen were coughing or vomiting; there was no fight left in even one of them.

  Rennick was waiting with Ramage by the entryport and as soon as the survivors arrived on deck they were escorted, five at a time, onto the fo'c'sle.

  "We've nothing to worry about from those fellows for an hour or so," Rennick remarked.

  "No, it's the old story of only a few of them being able to swim."

  "I don't think many have escaped from the ship, sir," Rennick said.

  Ramage shook his head. "No. I did a very rough count and saw about a hundred. Looks as though more than half of them went down with the ship."

  "Yes, even though she was rolling heavily, she went very suddenly in the end."

  When the third boat came alongside the cox'n shouted up: "We've got a couple of officers here, sir!"

  When the two men were helped up the ship's side, clothes torn and hair soaking, Ramage walked over to them and said in French: "Perhaps you would introduce yourselves."

  The elder of the two bowed, coughing at the same time: "Jean-Louis Peyrafitte, lieutenant de vaisseau, and captain of Le Jason, frigate. This," he indicated the other man, "is the second lieutenant. He was with me on the quarterdeck."

  "M. Peyrafitte," Ramage said, "I am afraid you have lost at least half your ship's company."

  "I know. It was my fault. I did not realize she was so near capsizing. I should have cleared the decks."

  Ramage shrugged his shoulders. "It was easier to see from over here," he said quietly. "You fought until the last moment."

  The Frenchman looked up for the first time. "You think so?"

  Ramage nodded. "You were rolling so much that I don't know how your men aimed their guns."

  Now it was the turn of the Frenchman to shrug. He gestured round the Calypso's decks and then up at the masts. "They were not very successful," he said sadly.

  "They were earlier," Ramage said grimly. "I lost some good men."

  He turned to Rennick. "Put a Marine guard on these two and then take them down to my cabin: they can dry off there."

  Rennick was about to protest that the wardroom would be more suitable when he realized that Ramage was paying a small tribute to the French captain's bravery. "Very well, sir," he said.

  Ramage saw Orsini and told him: "Go down and tell my steward to give these two men towels and dry clothes."

  For more than three quarters of an hour the boats combed the wreckage for survivors, but when they were finally recalled they had found only one hundred and sixty-three men. The only officers to survive were still the two found by the third boat, the captain and second lieutenant. Most of the others, Ramage guessed, had stayed with their divisions of guns.

  Finally, the four boats were hoisted on board, the foretopsail and maintopsail were hoisted, and Ramage gave orders for the Calypso to wear round and set a course for Capraia.

  "I wonder what we'll find with the other frigate," Southwick said.

  Ramage laughed. "You want two frigates in one day, eh?"

  "I don't see why not," the master said.

  "Pass the word for Bowen - providing he's not in the middle of operating. I want to know what the butcher's bill comes to."

  Bowen came up on deck, his clothes still bloodstained, and reported to Ramage.

  "Twelve dead from gunshot wounds and splinters, five badly wounded from splinters, and seven slightly wounded, gunshot and splinters, plus one man completely dazed when the gun was dismounted. It's only the second time I've seen such a case, but he is speechless and although he's not deaf, he doesn't understand what is said to him."

  "We've been lucky," Ramage said grimly. "If Le Jason had not had that leak, we could have lost half a hundred men."

  Bowen looked up at the ragged group of men up on the fo'c'sle. "At least. Are those the French survivors?"

  "A hundred and sixty-three, and two officers."

  "How many men did she have on board?"

  "I haven't asked the captain yet, but probably about two hundred and fifty."

  CHAPTER SIX

  The trip back to Capraia was a run of less than two hours, and Ramage steered for a position on the coast about three miles north of the little port. Retook the Calypso in to three quarters of a mile from the beach and then, wary of the kind of outlying rocks that had holed Le Jason, brought the frigate head to wind and anchored.

  "Hoist out the boats, Mr Aitken," he said after Southwick assured him the anchor was well dug in. "Let's get rid of our passengers."

  During the run back to the island he had a long talk with Peyrafitte. Le Jason had had a complement of two hundred and seventy-seven when she began the action, so that one hundred and twelve men had been lost, either from the Calypso's gunfire or by drowning.

  The French captain confirmed that the ship had hit a rock off Capraia and the impact had started several planks. At first the pump had kept up with the leak but after that Le Jason's speed through the water while engaging the Calypso had made it worse, and towards the end he was having to take men away from the guns to replace those exhausted at the pump.

  Peyrafitte, a stocky and black-haired man with deep brown eyes, said ruefully: "But for the leak, we may have taken you!" "You had fifty more men and we had the same number of guns," Ramage said. "We should both have lost a great number of men."

  "I did anyway," Peyrafitte commented.

  Ramage shrugged his shoulders. "There could have been more. Considering everything, you are fortunate that you have more than half your men up on the fo'c'sle."

  "I know," the Frenchman said, "but I will have to account to my admiral for my navigation."

  "Your navigation?" asked a puzzled Ramage.

  "That rock," Peyrafitte explained. "It was shown on my chart. I thought we were farther offshore."

  "Your chart is better than mine: I had no indication that there were any rocks there."

  It was the Frenchman's turn to shrug. "Your chart showed no rock and mine did. You didn't hit it and I did.
My admiral will want to know why. He will order a court of inquiry ..."

  "But a court of inquiry is routine anyway," Ramage protested.

  "Yes," the Frenchman agreed, "but what can I answer when they ask me that question? They won't even know that your chart did not show a rock: it will be enough that mine did and I hit it."

  Ramage wanted to console the man: he had fought bravely and he had been beaten by a leak. But from what Ramage had heard the French Navy dealt harshly with anyone who made mistakes, even if they involved misjudging the position of a rock by a few score yards in the midst of an action.

  It took an hour to ferry the prisoners ashore. The two hours spent up on the fo'c'sle had done much to revive their spirits; so much so that Ramage told Rennick to put four Marines in each boat, just in case a wild spirit decided to try to rouse his comrades into making an attempt to get control.

  The first frigate, Le Tigre, was out of sight round the bend in the coast, and after the boats had returned and men had weighed anchor, Ramage ordered the ship to general quarters.

  "She probably won't be there," he said sourly to Aitken.

  "They've certainly had time to send up the yards, but we damaged the mainyard."

  "She could have got under way with topsails," Ramage said. "She could have gone southabout round the island and we would not have seen her."

  "Well, we gave her a battering," Aitken said. "For sure the captain won't be able to use his cabin without dockyard repairs!"

  Ramage recalled the raking broadsides they had poured into Le Tigre's stern. How many of those broadsides had swept the length of the ship, dismounting guns and slaughtering men? Perhaps not enough to prevent her escaping while the Calypso pursued Le Jason. Jackson sat on the deck surrounded by his gun's crew. Stafford said firmly:

  "She won't be there. She's had plenty of time to bolt. You fink she's going ter 'ang about after Le Jason came down to rescue 'er?"

  "Didn't do Le Jason much good," Rossi observed.

  "Nah, but what's ter stop Le Tigre escaping?"

  "We left them in a mess," said Jackson. "Could they have got the yards up?"

  "They'd 'ave escaped with what they got up already," Stafford said scornfully. "Topsails, t'gallants - enough to get under way."

  "True enough," Jackson agreed, "providing our raking broadsides didn't do any damage. When we swept the deck I saw a lot of damage. Must have cut a lot of cordage, apart from putting paid to that mainyard."

  "We shall know in a few minutes," Gilbert said, getting up and going over to the port. "No, we're not far enough round to see yet."

  "Who is making a bet?" Auguste asked. "I bet a tot that she is still there. Any takers?"

  "Done!" exclaimed Stafford. "I say she's gone."

  "Who'll bet that if she's gone we don't start chasing her?" Jackson asked.

  "Cor, you'd 'ave to be mad to take that bet," Stafford said scornfully. "If she's gone she could only have gone round to the westward, and Mr Ramage'll be after her like lightning."

  "We'd never catch her," Rossi said. "She'd have a two-hour start on us."

  "But she'd be under reduced canvas," Jackson pointed out. "She won't have her main course up. She'll be just jilling along under topsails and topgallants."

  "Two hours is two hours," Rossi said doggedly. "Why, she'll probably be out of sight - there's plenty of haze about."

  "Let's wait and see," advised Jackson. "We'll know in a few minutes whether or not Staff's won his tot."

  Up on the quarterdeck Ramage waited as impatiently as Stafford as he watched the coastline with his telescope.

  "It's nice seeing our fo'c'sle clear of prisoners," he commented to South wick.

  "Aye, but they'd had all the fight washed out of 'em!"

  "Maybe," Ramage agreed, "but it only needed one hothead to rouse them up."

  "It would have taken more than one hothead," Southwick said. 'Most of them had swallowed a lot of the Mediterranean, and all they wanted to do was sick it up."

  Ramage gestured ahead. "I thought that dam' frigate was anchored in this next bay, but it's not the right shape."

  "No, it's another mile or so yet. And the bay cuts in so you won't see anything until you pass the first headland."

  Aitken said: "I expect the ship's company are making bets whether or not she's still there."

  "What odds are you offering?" Southwick asked jocularly.

  "If I was a betting man - which I'm not - I'd give twenty to one that she's gone," Aitken said. "She'll be halfway to Toulon by now."

  "We'll see," Southwick said calmly. "If she's gone we'll have a hard time finding her in this haze - it seems to be getting worse."

  "She's still there," Ramage said calmly. "I can see the trucks of her masts over the headland."

  "Twenty to one, eh?" Southwick said to Aitken. "Don't start taking bets - you'd be bankrupt in short order. Horses are more unpredictable than Frenchmen!"

  Ramage tapped one hand with the telescope. "If they've hoisted their colours again - and are still anchored as before - we'll rake em a few times: they'll probably take the hint and haul down their colours again."

  "I wish we could rake her across the bow," Southwick said. "There can't be much aft for us to smash up."

  "I want to sail her out of here," Ramage said sharply. "So we don't want to risk any damage to her jibboom or bowsprit."

  "Oh, I realize that, sir," Southwick said. "It was just getting rather boring raking her stern!"

  "Just bear with us a little longer," Ramage said sarcastically.

  "Anyway, they may haul down their colours again as soon as they sight us."

  "They couldn't have seen us coming back, sir?" Aitken asked.

  "I thought of that - in fact I was trying to spot them," Ramage said, "but the bay they are in cuts up to the north-west, so they can't see out to the east or north-east."

  "So, we'll surprise them," Aitken said cheerfully. "We've been surprising Frenchmen a lot today."

  "As long as they don't start surprising us," Ramage said. "Let's not get too confident."

  He gave Aitken a helm order to start rounding the headland and looked for Orsini. The young Italian was standing five yards away, pretending he could not hear the conversation.

  "Go round all the guns on the larboard side and warn them that they will probably be raking the Frenchman in about five minutes," he said. "And tell the officers that the Frenchman is here."

  His telescope showed the stunted, gnarled olive trees growing along the headland, their leaves glinting silver as the wind caught them. There were dark green patches where cactus grew in sprouting clusters. The ground was rocky: there was little soil on this eastern side of the island and what little grass there was had been ripped up by goats, whose tracks made spiders' web trails.

  Le Tigre must be lying in the same position, head to wind and her bows to the east, her stern pointing at the far headland and leaving little room for manoeuvre. At least, that much he could make out from the position of her masts.

  And then suddenly the Calypso had rounded the first headland and there, fine on her larboard bow, was Le Tigre, looking much the same as when Ramage had first seen her. The mainyard was still down on deck but her stern was still out of sight. The Tricolour had Been hoisted again; it streamed aft in the breeze in what seemed to Ramage a pointless act of defiance. Not so pointless, he corrected himself: 'Le Tigre thought she had been rescued by Le Jason; she was not to know about that rock further up the coast.

  "It'll be like a wasp's nest on her quarterdeck," observed Southwick. "They never expected to see us again."

  "There were times when I didn't expect to see her," Ramage said sourly.

  He turned to Aitken. "We'll rake her astern with our larboard broadside, if you please; pass thirty yards off her transom."

  Roundshot this time at a range of thirty yards. And if they approached carefully, at right angles to the French ship, only a few of the enemy's guns would be able to fire at them.

&n
bsp; The Calypso's first broadside smashed even more of the French ship's transom into dust: it always surprised Ramage just how much dust was created. Dust you could see, clouds of it; splinters, many six feet long, you could not see: they were flung up faster than the eye could detect, and they scythed along to kill more men than the roundshot.

  The smoke of the guns was just sweeping across the quarterdeck, setting the three officers coughing, when Ramage gave the order to wear round and cross Le Tigre's stern on the other tack.

  Slowly, with sails slatting and men hauling at the braces, the Calypso wore round and, after reloading their guns, the crews ran across to the starboard side to be ready for the next broadside. As Aitken shouted orders for trimming the sails the Calypso steadied on her new course and increased speed.

  Southwick, staring grimly at Le Tigre's stern, growled: "She won't be able to take many more broadsides like that!"

  As he spoke, the Tricolour fluttered down, something first seen by an excited Orsini. Ramage at once seized the speaking trumpet and shouted to the guns to cease fire, but five had already fired before the order was Understood through the ship.

  "Serves 'em right," Southwick commented unsympathetically. "They should have hauled down their colours the minute we hove insight."

  Two frigates in one day: as Ramage thought back to how the day had begun - with the prospect of destruction by those two ships of the line - he was hard put to believe what he saw. But the Tricolour had been lowered at the run and he had to admit that, with the prospect of another raking broadside, he could not blame the French captain. Blame him, yes, for not getting the yards across and preparing to get under way, instead of assuming that the other frigate would drive off the Englishman. But that was a piece of unjustifiable optimism since he knew that both ships were evenly matched.

  "Back the foretopsail, Mr Aitken," Ramage said, wanting to heave-to outside the arcs of fire of Le Tigre's broadside: there was no need to start trusting the Frenchman just because he had hauled down his colours.

  But he was back with the same problem: what to do with prisoners. Only this time he would have almost a whole ship's complement, less those killed by the Calypso's broadsides . . . Well, it was the same problem, and there was the same answer: put the prisoners ashore while Le Tigre was repaired and got ready to be sailed away by a prize crew from the Calypso. But the prisoners from Le Tigre would not be half-drowned men unlikely to put up a fight. "We'll anchor, Mr Aitken. And then I want a boat gun fitted in the cutter."