by Dudley Pope
Copyright & Information
Ramage & The Dido
First published in 1989
Copyright: Kay Pope; House of Stratus 1989-2010
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The right of Dudley Pope to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.
This edition published in 2010 by House of Stratus, an imprint of
Stratus Books Ltd., Lisandra House, Fore Street, Looe,
Cornwall, PL13 1AD, UK.
Typeset by House of Stratus.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library and the Library of Congress.
EAN ISBN Edition
0755108272 9780755108275 Print
0755124286 9780755124282 Pdf
0755124448 9780755124442 Kindle
0755124618 9780755124619 Epub
This is a fictional work and all characters are drawn from the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance or similarities to persons either living or dead are entirely coincidental.
www.houseofstratus.com
About the Author
Dudley Bernard Egerton Pope was born in Ashford, Kent on 29 December 1925. When at the tender age of fourteen World War II broke out and Dudley attempted to join the Home Guard by concealing his age. At sixteen, once again using a ruse, he joined the merchant navy a year early, signing papers as a cadet with the Silver Line. They sailed between Liverpool and West Africa, carrying groundnut oil.
Before long, his ship was torpedoed in the Atlantic and a few survivors, including Dudley, spent two weeks in a lifeboat prior to being rescued. His injuries were severe and because of them he was invalided out of the merchant service and refused entry into the Royal Navy when officially called up for active service aged eighteen.
Turning to journalism, he set about ‘getting on with the rest of his life’, as the Naval Review Board had advised him. He graduated to being Naval and Defence correspondent with the London Evening News in 1944. The call of the sea, however, was never far away and by the late 1940’s he had managed to acquire his first boat. In it, he took part in cross-channel races and also sailed off to Denmark, where he created something of a stir, his being one of the first yachts to visit the country since the war.
In 1953 he met Kay, whom he married in 1954, and together they formed a lifelong partnership in pursuit of scholarly adventure on the sea. From 1959 they were based in Porto Santo Stefano in Italy for a few years, wintering on land and living aboard during the summer. They traded up boats wherever possible, so as to provide more living space, and Kay Pope states:
‘In September 1963, we returned to England where we had bought the 53 foot cutter Golden Dragon and moved on board where she lay on the east coast. In July 1965, we cruised down the coasts of Spain and Portugal, to Gibraltar, and then to the Canary Islands. Early November of the same year we then sailed across the Atlantic to Barbados and Grenada, where we stayed three years.
Our daughter, Victoria was 4 months old when we left the UK and 10 months when we arrived in Barbados. In April 1968, we moved on board ‘Ramage’ in St Thomas, US Virgin Islands and lost our mainmast off St Croix, when attempting to return to Grenada.’
The couple spent the next nine years cruising between the British Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico, before going to Antigua in 1977 and finally St.Martin in 1979.
The sea was clearly in Pope’s blood, his family having originated in Padstow, Cornwall and later owning a shipyard in Plymouth. His great-grandfather had actually preceded him to the West Indies when in 1823, after a spell in Canada, he went to St.Vincent as a Methodist missionary, before returning to the family business in Devon.
In later life, Dudley Pope was forced to move ashore because of vertigo and other difficulties caused by injuries sustained during the war. He died in St.Martin in 1997, where Kay now lives. Their daughter, Victoria, has in turn inherited a love of the sea and lives on a sloop, as well as practising her father’s initial profession of journalism.
As an experienced seaman, talented journalist and historian, it was a natural progression for Pope to write authoritative accounts of naval battles and his first book, Flag 4: The Battle of Coastal Forces in the Mediterranean, was published in 1954. This was followed in 1956 by the Battle of the River Plate, which remains the most accurate and meticulously researched account of this first turning point for Britain in World War II. Many more followed, including the biography of Sir Henry Morgan, (Harry Morgan’s Way) which has one won wide acclaim as being both scholarly and thoroughly readable. It portrays the history of Britain’s early Caribbean settlement and describes the Buccaneer’s bases and refuges, the way they lived, their ships and the raids they made on the coast of central America and the Spain Main, including the sack of Panama.
Recognising Pope’s talent and eye for detail, C.S. Forrester (the creator of the Hornblower Series) encouraged him to try his hand at fiction. The result, in 1965, was the appearance of the first of the Ramage novels, followed by a further seventeen culminating with Ramage and the Dido which was published in 1989. These follow the career and exploits of a young naval officer, Nicholas Ramage, who was clearly named after Pope’s yacht. He also published the ‘Ned Yorke’ series of novels, which commences as would be expected in the Caribbean, in the seventeenth century, but culminates in ‘Convoy’ and ‘Decoy’ with a Ned Yorke of the same family many generations on fighting the Battle of the Atlantic.
All of Dudley Pope’s works are renowned for their level of detail and accuracy, as well as managing to bring to the modern reader an authentic feeling of the atmosphere of the times in which they are set.
Some of the many compliments paid by reviewers of Dudley Pope’s work:
‘Expert knowledge of naval history’- Guardian
“An author who really knows Nelson’s navy” - Observer
‘The best of Hornblower’s successors’ - Sunday Times
‘All the verve and expertise of Forrester’ - Observer
Dedication
To Jane Clare Victoria
With much love
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I have taken a liberty with one historical fact. A French frigate carrying the first mango plants from Mauritius to Martinique was captured by the British frigate Flora, Captain Marshall, one of Rodney’s squadron, in 1782 and taken to Jamaica.
Dudley Pope
French West Indies
Maps
Martinique - LH
Martinique - RH
Martinique - Full
Chapter One
Ramage folded the Morning Post and sat back comfortably. There was very little news in the paper and he passed it to Sarah, who was an avid newspaper reader and had already finished The Times and sniffed at the lack of anything of interest.
He had another five days’ leave: time enough to go down to Aldington and have a look at the Kent countryside, apart from reassuring himself that all was well with the house, although Sarah had been staying there most of the time he was away in the Mediterranean, only coming up to London in a hurry when she heard that he had arrived back in Portsmouth.
His parents’ home in Palace Street was a serviceable halfway house for both of them, apart from being conveniently near the Admiralty and even nearer the House of Lords, so that his father, the Earl of Blazey, could attend debates whenever he wished.
Ramage was vaguely aware of a horse pulling up
outside the front door, although the sound of passing horses clopping their way along Palace Street was nothing out of the ordinary, but a few minutes later the old butler, Hanson, appeared at the door, his spectacles sliding down his nose as usual.
‘An Admiralty messenger, my lord: he has a letter for you and needs you to sign a receipt.’
Ramage nodded and went to the front door, signing the proffered receipt book and taking the letter. It felt strange, heavy and stiff, as though the paper with its heavy seal enclosed a sheet of parchment. He shrugged his shoulders as he walked back to the breakfast room to rejoin Sarah, who looked up inquiringly.
‘Probably fresh orders,’ he said and, noting the alarmed look on Sarah’s face, added: ‘I doubt if they’re urgent: their Lordships know I haven’t had much leave in the past few years.’
Sarah walked over to the desk and came back with a paper-knife. ‘Break the seal and put a stop to the suspense,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you have to go away again so soon.’
Ramage was reluctant to hurry: the sheer weight of the packet did not bode well. Routine letters were not written in parchment, and this packet crackled when he squeezed it. He took the paperknife and pried open the outer seal, and the folded paper opened by itself to reveal a parchment commission inside. He recognised it immediately – but a commission? What was happening to the Calypso frigate, which he had commanded for the past few years? She was even now waiting for him down at Portsmouth, under the temporary command of her first lieutenant, James Aitken.
But there was no mistaking the document: there was the Admiralty Office seal at the top left-hand corner, red wax with white paper on top; the blue stamp duty seal below it, with ‘11 shillings and 10 pence’ and a crown; and three signatures beneath the verbiage in the middle. Yes, it was a commission right enough, but sending him where, and in what ship?
He began reading, starting with the first few lines at the top. ‘By the Commission for Executing the Office of Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, etc.’
Then came the main section of the commission: ‘By virtue of the Power and Authority to us given, We do hereby appoint you Captain of his Majesty’s ship the Dido, willing and requiring you forthwith to go on board and take upon you the charge and command of Captain in her accordingly: strictly Charging and Commanding all the Officers and Company of the said ship to behave themselves jointly and severally in their respective employments… Hereof nor you nor any of you may fail as you will answer to the Contrary at your Peril…’
It ended with ‘By command of their Lordships’ and the signature of Evan Nepean, the Secretary to the Board, on the left, and the signatures of three Board members on the right.
The Dido? But wasn’t she a seventy-four? He had a fleeting picture in his mind of seeing her in Gibraltar some time ago. Command of a seventy-four!
‘Why are you grinning?’ Sarah asked quietly, obviously fearing the worst.
‘I think I’ve just been given command of a seventy-four,’ he said. ‘Let me find a copy of Steel’s List and check the name.’
His father’s copy of Steel’s Original and Correct List of the Royal Navy was on the desk, a thin grey-covered volume. He flipped through the pages until he came to the one headed ‘A complete List of the Royal Navy,’ where all the ships, from the 112-gun Salvador del Mundo to hired armed cutters and luggers, were named alphabetically. Yes, there was the Dido, at present in Portsmouth and built in 1798. She had been paid off, and obviously he would have to commission her.
He felt a sudden nostalgia for the Calypso. And what was going to happen to all the officers and men with whom he had sailed for so long? He would be lost without the old master, Southwick, who had served with him since he had been given his first command as a callow lieutenant in the Mediterranean so many years ago. And the Scot, Aitken, who had once refused a command to continue serving with him. And ‘Blower’ Martin, the junior lieutenant with his flute. And seamen like Jackson, Stafford and Rossi. Thinking of them took the shine off the new appointment.
‘This is a big promotion,’ Sarah said. ‘Your father will be pleased. Getting command of a second rate at your age.’
‘Third rate,’ Ramage corrected. ‘It’ll be a few more years before I get the chance of a second rate.’
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. ‘I never did understand “rates”’ she admitted.
‘It’s just a matter of the number of guns a ship carries. A first rate has a hundred guns or more, a second rate between ninety-eight and ninety, a third rate from eighty to sixty-four… The Calypso is a fifth rate with thirty-two guns, and last of all comes a sixth rate, between thirty and twenty guns.’
Again Sarah looked puzzled. ‘I know this is a dreadful thing for the wife of a post-captain to admit, but the number of guns does not mean very much. How big is the ship? How many men does she carry?’
‘Well, seventy-fours vary slightly – the later ones are larger – but the Dido is probably about 170 feet long on the gun-deck, has a ship’s company of about 600, and is around 1,700 tons – more when she is provisioned for six months, of course. Now can you picture her better?’
‘Not really. Will I be allowed on board to visit you?’
‘Of course. You’ll have to come down to Portsmouth – but there’ll be plenty of time: I’ve got to commission the ship.’
At that moment Ramage’s father came into the room and wished them both a cheerful good morning. Almost immediately he saw the commission lying on the table, along with a copy of Steel’s List, and recognising both he looked questioningly at his son. ‘You’ve heard from the Admiralty?’
‘Yes, their Lordships have given me a new ship.’
‘Oh. You’ll be sorry to leave the Calypso – she’s become a second home!’
‘Yes – but they’ve given me a seventy-four.’
‘Ha, at last their Lordships have woken up to your worth! It was probably that last cruise in the Mediterranean that did it. After all, they gave you a whole Gazette to yourself for winkling out those Saracens. What ship?’
‘The Dido. I have to commission her at Portsmouth.’
‘Dido? She’s only seven or eight years old – I remember her being launched at Bursledon. Well, having to commission her is as good a way as any of getting to know your way round a two-decker. You’ll be at the mercy of your first lieutenant and master – d’you know who they’ll be?’
Ramage shook his head. ‘All I have at the moment is the commission. I found out she was at Portsmouth from Steel. I don’t know whether commissioning just means assembling the ship’s company and provisioning, or getting the masts in and rigging her.’
The earl smoothed down his white hair and held out his hand. ‘Well, whatever it is, congratulations. It won’t be long before they give you a second rate. Then you’ll get your flag!’
Ramage shook his hand and both men sat down again. The earl looked round at Sarah. ‘Well, my dear, so it is goodbye to frigates. What’s it feel like now, being married to a man who is going to command a ship of the line?’
‘He’ll miss all the men on board the Calypso,’ Sarah said. ‘It seems a pity that the captain has to start all over again when he changes ships.’
‘Yes’, it is a big change,’ the earl agreed. ‘Six hundred or so men instead of a couple of hundred. A really big ship to handle.’
Sarah held up her hands apologetically. ‘Nicholas has just explained to me what a “rate” is. But tell me, what is the difference between a frigate and a ship of the line, apart from its size and the number of men?’
‘Its job, mainly,’ the earl said. ‘A frigate is a scout – it acts as the admiral’s eyes when working with a fleet, or it does all those jobs that Nicholas has been doing for the past few years. But a ship of the line is just that – a ship which forms part of the line of battle when the fleet is in action. At Trafalgar, the frigates were supposed to stay out of the fight and repeat signals – the classic task for a fr
igate in battle, not getting involved in the shooting. Nicholas, of course, had to break the rules and get himself into the action, but normally the line of battle will be formed with ships of seventy-four guns or more. There are still a few sixty-fours around, but they are being replaced because they are not powerful enough to stand in the line of battle.’
‘So if Nicholas had been given the Dido in time he could have been in the line of battle at Trafalgar?’ Sarah asked.
‘Yes. Being him he made up for it with the Calypso, but if there is another Trafalgar and Nicholas is part of the fleet concerned, yes, he will be in the line of battle.’
‘It sounds a dangerous job.’
The earl laughed. ‘No, on the contrary. A captain stands much more chance of being killed in a frigate action than the captain of a ship of the line in a battle like Trafalgar. Just think of the numbers – on board a frigate he is one of a couple of hundred; in a ship of the line he is one of six hundred or so.’
‘Lord Nelson was killed,’ Sarah pointed out.
‘Yes,’ the earl agreed soberly, ‘but he would insist on wearing all his orders and decorations. He was an obvious target for French sharpshooters. Captain Hardy, who was walking the deck with him, was not scratched.’
‘But Nicholas has been wounded so many times: it doesn’t seem fair!’
Ramage said lightly: ‘The important thing is that I’ve survived!’
‘Does being given a ship of the line mean you won’t be away for such long periods?’ Sarah asked.
‘Probably. Ships of the line are usually attached to fleets, and fleets are not usually at sea for such long periods. Unless I get put on the blockade of Brest – blockade work usually means being at sea for a long time. Still, we don’t keep such a close blockade now…’