Ramage and the Dido

by Dudley Pope

  ‘We’ll soon see,’ Ramage said. ‘We’re approaching the frigate quite fast now. This breeze is slowly strengthening.’

  ‘What I’d give for a bit o’ moonlight,’ repeated an exasperated Southwick. ‘Trying to judge with the upside-down image in this glass makes my eyes go funny.’

  ‘We’ll attack the frigate to starboard, so we don’t get blinded by our own smoke. Warn the guns, Mr Aitken.’

  The first lieutenant sent one of the midshipmen below while he shouted up to Orsini on the poop.

  Ramage saw the frigate dead ahead again as the Dido yawed slightly. By now Jackson had taken over as quartermaster, and Ramage gave him a helm order which brought the frigate round to fine on the starboard bow: on this new course they would pass her about fifty yards off. Just the right range for the gunners, Ramage thought, but far enough not to alarm the frigate if she was in fact still under the impression that the Achille was approaching.

  He could imagine the clicking as the second captains cocked the locks on the guns: the captains would be standing behind them, firing lanyards held in their right hands, ready to drop on one knee as the frigate loomed up close. Well, they had some experience of a night action; he only hoped that what they had learned attacking the Achille was going to stand them in good stead tonight.

  The range was closing fast now and, after another look at the frigate, Ramage told Aitken: ‘Tell the gunners they’ll be opening fire in about three minutes.’

  Still no challenge from the frigate: well, that bit of carelessness on their part was going to cost them dearly: had they challenged, the lack of a correct reply would at least have warned them.

  ‘Another merchantman rounding the island,’ said Southwick. ‘But maybe she’s a frigate.’

  ‘Eight ships,’ mused Ramage. ‘Quite a good-sized convoy, and there may be more escorts.’

  Ramage gave another helm order to Jackson and the men at the wheel turned it a couple of spokes. The frigate was barely two hundred yards away and Ramage could see that she had everything set to the topgallants. Her rigging now stood out spidery against the stars; there was just a hint of phosphorescence at her stem as she butted her way through the water.

  It seemed almost unsporting, Ramage told himself, to come out of the darkness and fire a broadside into the unsuspecting frigate; but this was war, and if one was careless the price was usually heavy.

  Ramage moved a few steps on the quarterdeck so that he could see the frigate clear of the Dido’s jib-boom and bowsprit. A hundred yards. Fifty yards. Still the frigate ploughed on, obviously thinking that the seventy-four approaching on her starboard bow was the Achille. Twenty-five yards. A ship’s length. Ramage imagined the Dido’s gunners taking the strain on their trigger lines.

  The crash of the first guns of the broadside came as a shock even though he was expecting it: a series of blinding flashes and muffled explosions and the rumble of the guns flinging back in recoil. Finally the last guns in the broadside thundered out as Orsini’s carronades swept the frigate’s decks, spraying them with a deadly hail of caseshot. Ramage thought of the unsuspecting Frenchmen standing about on the frigate’s deck; then he reminded himself that if the position had been reversed the French would have shown no mercy.

  There had been plenty of hits on the frigate: it was almost impossible to miss at this range, and he had imagined he had heard the shot crashing into the hull. Now, in response to his hurried order to Aitken, the Dido wore under the frigate’s stern and prepared to come alongside, firing another broadside. The sails slatted and cracked, the yards creaked as they were braced round and the sheets trimmed. Ramage could hear Orsini’s gunners shouting with excitement as they crossed the poop to man the larboard carronades.

  For once Ramage felt remote from the action. Perhaps it was a bit too cold-blooded, perhaps there had been little excitement before opening fire, but there was something lacking. He found himself thinking of the frigate now about to receive another broadside when she had just had one smash into her. Well, he thought grimly, if it was a French seventy-four attacking the Calypso the French would not be feeling squeamish.

  Once again the Dido’s broadside crashed out, the flashes destroying his night vision but lighting up the frigate perfectly so that he could see every detail of her rigging and sails and observe that her hull was painted black with a wide red strake.

  Suddenly amid the gunfire he could hear a French voice shouting through a speaking trumpet. He thought for a minute that it was hurling defiance, but as the last half of the broadside crashed out he realised that the man was surrendering. He called to Aitken to stop the guns firing and shouted a helm order to Jackson so that the wheel was put over and the Dido turned into the frigate, crashing alongside her.

  At last the guns stopped firing as the two midshipmen sent below by the first lieutenant managed to pass the word to the officers at their quarters. Ramage himself shouted up to Orsini to stop the carronades firing again, but only made himself understood after several of them had gone off. By now the two ships were grinding against each other and Ramage told Aitken: ‘Get the first boarding party over: tell Rennick to add ten Marines.’

  Even with the extra Marines it was not a very large prize crew to take command of a captured frigate, but if the French tried any tricks, he thought grimly, the threat of another broadside would probably bring them to their senses.

  He watched as the boarding party scrambled down to the frigate – whose name he had noticed was the Sirène – and he wished he could have sent Hill along as well, so that his French would make sure that orders were obeyed quickly, but felt he could not spare an officer from his quarters with a lot more shooting still to be done.

  He suddenly remembered the stern lanterns and snatched up the speaking trumpet. He then realised that leading a prize crew taking command of a frigate was too much for a midshipman, and decided that after all Hill would have to go.

  ‘Send Hill over to take command of the frigate,’ he told Aitken, ‘and tell him to douse the stern lanterns. Then put the frigate’s wheel over otherwise we’ll never get free of her.’

  Another midshipman was sent below to fetch Hill, who suddenly appeared on the quarterdeck. Ramage repeated his orders and added: ‘If we don’t see you again make for Barbados. I’ll send the Scourge to collect you. If you see any merchantmen they’ll be the ones we’ve captured, so escort them.’

  Hill, delighted at once again commanding a prize frigate, eagerly scrambled over the side of the Dido and down on to the frigate’s deck. Ramage could just make out movement on board the frigate as fighting lanterns were brought up from below. In the starlight he could see that most of the boats on the booms had been smashed and a thirty-foot length of bulwark beaten in, making an unsightly kink in the frigate’s sheer. But it was too dark to see other damage and anyway Ramage knew that most of it would be below decks, because the Dido’s gunners had orders to fire into the hull. The boats had probably been smashed by the carronades, whose task was to sweep the decks, killing men and cutting rigging.

  Ramage looked astern and could just make out the first of the merchantmen faithfully following in the frigate’s wake. Their masters must now be in something of a panic: they had suddenly seen their pilot attacked by an unknown ship, and Ramage thought it very unlikely that they had charts for the voyage up to Fort Royal – charts on a large enough scale, anyway.

  By now Hill should be putting the frigate’s wheel over, turning her to larboard so that she came clear of the Dido, which in turn would be turning to larboard as she wore round to tackle the first of the merchant ships.

  ‘That was a wise move sending over Hill as prizemaster,’ Southwick said. ‘He’ll be quick to spot if the French try any tricks. You never can tell with these Frenchmen: once they haven’t got us alongside pouring broadsides into them, they might get their courage back…’

  ‘That’s just what I thought,’ Ramage agreed. ‘That’s why I sent over some extra Marines.’

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p; By now Aitken was giving the orders which wore the ship, and once again the sails slatted as she turned. Ramage changed his position on the quarterdeck to get a better view of the first merchantman, and Southwick growled: ‘I shall be very surprised if we have to fire a shot to take this one!’

  Ramage had already reached the same conclusion and was conning the Dido round to come alongside the ship, within hailing distance. ‘Pass the word that no guns are to fire without receiving orders,’ he told Aitken, ‘and make sure Orsini’s carronades understand.’

  Quickly the sheets were trimmed and the yards braced, and the Dido turned on to the same course as the merchantman and started to overhaul her.

  ‘She’s reefed down – can you believe it?’ exclaimed Southwick. ‘These mules are all the same, whether French or British.’

  As the Dido began to overhaul the merchantman, Ramage picked up the speaking trumpet and went to the ship’s side. As the bowsprit drew level with the merchantman, Ramage bellowed in French: ‘Surrender – or I’ll fire a broadside into you!’

  He quickly reversed the trumpet and put it to his ear, and almost immediately heard an agitated yell: ‘We surrender…we surrender!’

  ‘Heave to – I’m coming alongside,’ Ramage shouted back, and gave a quick helm order so that the Dido turned slightly, her big hull with its pronounced tumblehome crashing into the side of the merchant ship.

  ‘Get that second boarding party over,’ Ramage snapped at Aitken, and while the two ships pressed together a midshipman led his mixed party of seamen and Marines, jumping down several feet on to the deck of the merchant ship. Ramage waited to see that they were in control and then ordered the Dido to wear.

  Once again the Dido repeated the manoeuvre which had separated her from the frigate, and Southwick said: ‘Six more merchantmen and another frigate.’ With that he snapped the nightglass shut.

  ‘Let’s hope these merchantmen give no more trouble than that one,’ Ramage said.

  ‘Yes, leave the frigate until last,’ Southwick said. ‘No chance of taking him by surprise!’

  Ramage looked round for the next merchantman and pointed her out to Aitken, who conned the ship round until she was overtaking her from astern. Ramage picked up the speaking trumpet as the Dido’s bowsprit drew level with the ship and then began to pass it.

  ‘Surrender and heave to!’ Ramage shouted in French, but when he reversed the speaking trumpet to hear the reply he was startled by the stream of defiance and French obscenities.

  He recognised the Gascon accent and the voice seemed very determined. He reversed the speaking trumpet and shouted: ‘If you do not surrender I will fire a broadside into you.’

  This threat brought more cursing and it was obvious the French master did not intend either to surrender or to heave to.

  Ramage thought for a moment. A broadside would almost certainly destroy the ship. He decided to give him one more chance. ‘Heave to or I’ll blow you out of the water!’

  More curses and shouts of defiance showed that the Gascon master was determined to take no notice of the British ship of the line almost alongside him and Ramage told Aitken: ‘He refuses to surrender or heave to. Give him a whiff of the carronades!’

  Aitken called up to Orsini on the poop and a few moments later the carronades barked out, sweeping the merchantman’s decks with caseshot. Again Ramage hailed through the speaking trumpet and received a shower of abuse in reply.

  Very well, he thought to himself, you’ve brought it on yourself: the carronades gave you a taste of what to expect. ‘Fire a broadside into him, Mr Aitken,’ he said. ‘I’ve given him four chances to surrender.’

  The flash and crash of the broadside caught him unawares, before he could close an eye, and he was blinded for several seconds. He had just heard Southwick exclaim: ‘Look, she’s afire,’ when he saw flames coming up her forehatch. The hatch cover had obviously ripped off and the flames were lighting up the foot of the sails.

  He shouted to Jackson to turn two points to starboard and then ordered Aitken: ‘Man the fire engine!’

  As he quickly looked round the flames began spreading and lighting up the night sky. He caught a glimpse of the surrendered frigate and merchantman ahead, and saw the string of merchantmen astern, their sails lit up.

  The Dido seemed to be turning very slowly and already the flames were licking up the sails of the merchantman. Ramage could hear the crackling of burning wood and as, horrified, he watched the flames, the ship’s foremast slowly, almost lazily, leaned over forward and crashed down on to the bowsprit.

  This stopped the ship as if she had run into a wall, and the Dido continued sailing, passing her as she began her turn away.

  ‘I hope she isn’t carrying powder,’ Southwick said.

  ‘We’re too close if she is,’ Aitken commented.

  ‘If she’s carrying powder, her master is a fool,’ Ramage said. ‘You don’t invite a broadside from a ship of the line if you’ve got powder in the hold. Even if you’re a Gascon,’ he added, half to himself, remembering the reputation that Gascons had for boasting – indeed, giving their name to the word gasconnade.

  At that moment the ship blew up. One moment she was dead in the water, flames leaping up from her forehatch; the next moment she was a livid red flash.

  Now the darkness seemed more intense.

  Ramage suddenly felt sick. The Gascon master’s stubborn behaviour, in spite of four warnings, had left him no alternative to opening fire, and he had no particular qualms about the ship being set on fire – the men could always escape in their boats – but blowing up like that, killing those who agreed with their master and those who, given the option, would have surrendered…

  But there was no time for regrets: he gave orders for the Dido to tack and make her way to the next ship in the convoy. As soon as they were almost alongside her, Ramage called on her to surrender and heave to. This time the master, having just seen what had happened to his next ahead, shouted his agreement and the Dido went alongside to put a prize crew on board.

  As the Dido tacked to get clear and headed for the next merchantman, Ramage looked ahead carefully for the second frigate, but could not see her. ‘Where’s the other frigate?’ he asked Southwick.

  ‘I haven’t looked for several minutes, sir, what with that ship catching fire and blowing up.’ He opened the nightglass and put it to his eye. After a minute or two he said: ‘That’s strange, there’s no sign of her. Just three more merchantmen, but not a sign of the frigate. D’you think she’s bolted?’

  Ramage shrugged his shoulders in the darkness. ‘Couldn’t blame him if he has. There’s nothing much he can do to save this convoy.’

  Southwick gave one of his famous sniffs but made no comment. The last three merchantmen surrendered without any fuss, all three obviously intimidated by the fate of their countryman. With the last of the prize crews put on board, Ramage said to Aitken: ‘We’ll go and see how Hill is getting on with the Sirène.’

  It took fifteen minutes to get back up to the Sirène, the Dido having to thread her way between merchant ships which were anyway clumsy sailers but were now being handled by inexperienced midshipmen with very few seamen.

  Ramage hailed Hill, who had the frigate hove to under a backed foretopsail. With the whole convoy now dealt with, Hill might as well carry a despatch to the admiral.

  Ramage went to his cabin to write a rough draft of the despatch so that Luckhurst could make a fair copy. The report to the admiral was brief, describing how he had found the convoy, attacked it and captured one frigate and all the merchant ships. He regretted, he said, that a second frigate forming the escort had escaped in the darkness, and a merchantman refusing to surrender and apparently carrying powder had been fired at, catching fire and blowing up. He finished his draft with all the usual formalities and then called Luckhurst to make the fair copy.

  He then went out on to the quarterdeck and told Aitken: ‘I have a despatch for the admiral which must be taken acr
oss to Hill. Also, give him a hail and see if he has enough people. Send Orsini over with the despatch – tell him to make sure Hill is satisfied that he has everything under control.’

  Paolo was soon back from the Sirène, reporting that Hill and his Marines had now secured all the prisoners and would be getting under way in about ten minutes, that he did not need more men and that the French were very cowed. ‘Most of them saw the merchantman blow up,’ Paolo said, ‘and that knocked the stuffing out of them.’

  Ramage waited with the Dido hove to until he saw the Sirène’s foretopsail sheeted home and braced sharp up as she bore up for Barbados. Then he said to Aitken: ‘Set a course for Fort Royal: we still have some unfinished business there.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Early in the forenoon with the sun hot and the wind still light the Dido hove to off Pointe des Nègres, half a mile from the stranded Achille. Through his glass Ramage could see that the French ship’s boats were busy ferrying the crew to the one small beach at the end of the Pointe, leaving them an arduous climb up the cliff before they could make their way back to Fort Royal. More important she was again flying a Tricolour: the surrender was being ignored.

  He told Southwick about the colours and added: ‘They’ve given up any hope of getting her off, for the time being anyway. Perhaps they’re going to bring in shipwrights to patch her up, and then pump her out until she floats clear.’

  ‘They’ll probably make an effort,’ Southwick said. ‘After all, she’s the only ship of the line they’ve got out here.’

  ‘She’s the only ship of any kind they have,’ Ramage corrected. ‘So they’re bound to make every effort to repair her. They haven’t a ship to send to France asking for reinforcements!’

  ‘The Navy is short of everything, but I wonder how badly off the Army is.’

  ‘Well…they haven’t had the losses that the Navy has had, so perhaps they are not in such a bad way,’ Ramage said.

  ‘Let’s hope they don’t bring out any guns and set them up on the cliff to cover the Achille.’