Distant Gunfire

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Distant Gunfire Page 10

by David O'Neil


  From one of the other galleys came the sound of a shot, and at that point all need of quiet was forgotten. Whilst some of the men readied the stern chasers, the sail dropped from the yard and filled. The anchor rope was cut with an axe and the ship sailed free, followed by a spatter of shots from the shore. The other two galleys were also cut loose and the three ships sailed for the open sea.

  Walker’s was first through, despite starting from its place nearest the shore. As they passed the fort at the harbour mouth, the galley fired both its stern chaser guns at the fort, creating confusion within the walls. The second galley was nearly clear when the first of the fort’s guns fired. The ball passed above the deck of the heeling ship, missing the ship but carrying off two of the boarders as they were securing the sail, causing the sail to flap and ship to lose way. The third galley received three hits from the fort, killing four of the boarders and wounding Mr. Hanson in the leg with a flying splinter. Four of the rowers were also killed as they sat still chained on their bench. The ball carried on through the side of the ship, and she began to take water as she heeled to the wind.

  Hanson called for the helm to be brought up, raising the hole above the water line. The tethered slaves pushed out the oars and waited for the command to row. Hanson called to Alan his second in command. “Get a patch on that hole and get someone to beat time for the oars.”

  Alan, ordered men to drop the sail and use it to stuff the shot hole in the hull, he picked up the mallet himself; as he struck the drum a single beat the oars rose together and dipped into the water, he struck the drum again starting to establish a rhythm and the oars followed the beat, driving the ship through the choppy sea.

  Seeing the effect of the oars, Hanson ordered the mast dropped and the galley swiftly made its way out to their ship waiting offshore with the two other galleys.

  In the two days whilst at anchor in Gibraltar harbour, the ship had provisioned and taken on the latest charts of the Mediterranean, and the other inland seas. The two main pirate bases had been indicated. As Robert sat in his cabin studying the charts of the North African coastline, he smiled at the notation in the corner of the chart, ‘Amended in 1793 by the observations taken by Lieutenant Martin Walker RN’. He recalled how the name had intrigued him at the time of Walker’s joining the ship. Of course he knew the name. At the time of Walker’s capture, Robert, as a midshipman had been responsible for amending the ships charts.

  The city of Tangier was by far the most important to the west, but it was Bone to the east that occupied his attention. For some considerable time, the Bey who commanded the galleys that raided from the city had been creating havoc amongst the merchant traders of the Mediterranean. The Roister was under orders to stop the pirate activities from this area, using whatever means available.

  The capture of the three galleys had been the result of a hasty decision on Robert’s part, and he was still not quite sure what he could use them for.

  The released slaves were at present camped several miles down the shore under the eye of Captain Ullyet and his company of marines. There were several sick men from the benches, currently under the care of the surgeon, John Sweet. Three of these men were not expected to survive the next few days.

  Robert’s biggest need at present was information. He had no knowledge of the layout of the city of Bone, and the slaves he had spoken to so far had not seen much since their capture. The one factor which could be of assistance was the deep and abiding hatred felt by the slaves for their former masters. All had volunteered to join in the fight against their former captors, but without information Robert could not take the risk.

  His musings were interrupted by the arrival of the surgeon with his report on the condition of the released slaves and the crew.

  “Give me the bad news, John.” Robert was not feeling too confident.

  “Sorry, sir, I can only give you good news at the moment. Of the crew, no problems; the splinter wound suffered by Mr. Hanson is healing nicely and apart from the odd case of rope burn and cuts and bruises, the crew are fit.

  “The slaves have a wide variety of ailments but apart from my three serious bed cases, all are reasonably fit, and with decent food will recover fully in time.”

  A knock at the door interrupted the discussion and the figure of Lieutenant Walker appeared.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, Walker, what is it?”

  “Sir, I know one of the slaves in the surgeon’s care.”

  “So what are you telling me?” Robert was puzzled.

  “Sir, Carlo was the house slave of the Bey himself. He only came to the benches after he had displeased the housekeeper, I saw him only briefly before I was rescued as he was transferred to another galley. The important thing is that he knows the layout of the city and the routines of the Bey’s household.”

  “Bring him here and we can create a map of the city.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, he is in the charge of the surgeon and is currently under treatment.”

  “Doctor, can this man Carlo be brought here?”

  “No sir, at present he is exhausted, to speak with him I am afraid we must go to him; and even then he must not be tired too much as he is still in danger ”

  There was an assortment of skills among the freed slaves, though the majority were fighting men of one sort or another. Their origins were from several European countries, other North African areas, Nubia and Scandinavia, Greece and Venice. They were able to converse in a lingua franca, a local argot of the Mediterranean. Lieutenant Walker’s past history as a slave meant he was able to converse with the freed slaves in the tongue he had learned whilst he had been on the benches himself.

  All of the 180 men now added to the forces at Robert’s disposal seemed eager to exact their revenge on their former captors.

  A plan began to form in Robert’s mind.

  ***

  The darkness was profound and the party below the walls of the outer fort crept quietly round to the lower embrasures, the small noises of their passage covered by the sounds of the sea on the beach below.

  Robert led the assault party, preceded by Peter Morse, who slithered over the wall which was crumbling and broken at this point. Robert waited and watched Morse rise up behind the figure of the sentry who was gazing across at the lights of the city around the harbour. The sentry died without a murmur; and the raiding group moved in after Robert, through the embrasure and into the fort.

  The previous seven days had been taken up with planning the raid on the Pirate haven at Bone; Carlo the former slave had been invaluable and, having recovered from his exhaustion, was with the raiding party to ensure they did not get lost in the maze of streets surrounding the Palace of the Bey.

  Two fishermen taken offshore had been able to confirm that the Bey was absent at the moment; discipline at the fort and among the other military in the city was slack.

  Morse gestured to Robert, and the party swiftly followed into the central square of the fort. The second half of the party scattered as arranged to deal with the other lookouts. The whole operation was conducted in silence.

  The garrison was housed in the rooms built into the walls in the courtyard below the gun platforms. The marines came forward to deal with the sleeping men, who made little resistance.

  The few that tried were swiftly despatched, the others were crammed into a single barrack room and held there under guard.

  The guns of the fort were loaded and where possible swung round to cover the city and palace.

  Leaving Abbott in command, Robert raised the signal to the frigate to enter the harbour. With the tide such as it was making, plus the light wind on her quarter, she crept into the Bay.

  Dropping anchor she swung until her broadside was opposed to the Bey’s palace and its surrounding buildings. The fort at the far side of the bay was out of range of the frigate, but as far as they knew it was out of use. The city was lit up with lights, mostly flickering firelight, The palace was outlined by the watch fires o
f the guards stationed around the building.

  The shore party made their way to the slave quarters situated beside the quay. The watchman seated beside the big locked doors was sound asleep and fell unconscious from the offhand crack with the butt of a musket.

  Walker led his group into the building, the guards, mostly only half awake were killed where they lay. The released galley slaves were not disposed to be merciful. The men scattered through the building releasing the captives and herding them into the central quadrangle.

  Chapter nine

  Walker himself, with the assistance of the bo’sun, released the women captives, keeping them grouped in what was the guard’s common room. Among the released slaves were several European women, three of whom were English, recently captured from a merchantman carrying them from Livorno in Italy, fleeing homeward from the threat of an invading French Army.

  The English were all of the same group, Lady Elizabeth Merrick, Countess of Newbury, her maid Flora, and her companion Mrs. Harper. The others were Spanish and Italian, captured from passing ships over the last few weeks. All had been detained ostensibly to be ransomed by the Bey. Howeverm Walker was of the opinion that they were more likely to end up in the Bey’s Harem

  From their comments it seemed they had been captured after the departure of the Bey who had now been away for several weeks, visiting the desert areas of his domain, accompanied by the members of his personal guard. The 150 strong party had been reported to be returning in two days’ time. The separate detention of the English party was to preserve them from the unwanted attention of the other prisoners to ensure they are not spoiled in any way before the Bey has a chance to see them. In view of the blond beauty of the Countess, Robert doubted that the Lady would have progressed beyond the harem.

  The Palace of the Bey was swiftly surrounded and the watchmen gathered up and lodged in the slave quarters with the other prisoners.

  The third landing party under the command of Lieutenant Ogilvie, after a forced march from the town, established that the fort was indeed deserted and falling into ruin. It had been out of use for some time apparently, the guns standing in the embrasures were old and rusty, and the touch holes stopped with nails. He reported to Robert at the palace delivering seven more released slaves and nine new prisoners.

  Walker came to report the finding of the treasury. “I’ve placed the place under lock and key and posted guards, sir,” he reported. “There is a large amount of specie, both gold and silver. I’ve brought this chest to you, sir. It seems to be the container for some other valuables. There is an inscription I cannot read.”

  Two men lowered the chest to the floor in front of their captain.

  At first glance it seemed quite ordinary, the inscription was Chinese and though Robert could identify the script he could not translate it. He guessed what its content would be and indicated to Walker to open it.

  The gasp of disbelief from Walker brought a smile to his face. “The Admiral will be pleased with this!”

  “As will the men,” Walker commented, looking at the mass of jewels of all shapes, sizes and colour. “Place them in the strongbox in my cabin, and load the gold and silver. I’ll have the ship rigged to look as if she has been captured. We will ambush the Bey and his men when they approach the palace.”

  ***

  The returning column wound its way through the city gates, the men unsuspecting and looking forward to enjoying the delights of the city after eating dust for the past few weeks. As soon as the last file passed through the gate, the trap was sprung. Robert’s men rose all around the party, muskets up, locks cocked. Some few resisted and they were swiftly despatched. The majority surrendered, giving up their arms and allowing themselves to be taken and locked in the, now crowded slave quarters.

  The Bey was conveyed to the palace where he was accommodated in the dungeon beneath the floor.

  The box of monies carried back by the expedition to the desert stood unopened before the empty throne. When Robert received the Princess, sister of the Bey, he listened carefully to her application to assume the rule of the port of Bone.

  He knew he had no chance of holding the port, so in this event, he granted her application and agreed to leave the Princess in charge.

  The captured galleys were hauled up on the beach and burned. The extra men would be accommodated in the small fleet of xebec’s normally trading along the coast, but currently lying alongside the jetties in front of the city. Having warned the Princess that he would be returning soon, HMS Roister set sail once more for Gibraltar, to report.

  ***

  Robert wiped the sweat from his brow and cursed quietly when a drop fell on the page before him. He was finishing his personal comments on the final draft of the report on the incidents of the last four week cruise, and the action at Bone. He sipped water from the glass in front of him and returned to his labours.

  HMS Roister was moored out in the bay beneath the loom of Gibraltar, and the sun had just cleared the rock. The full rays were now concentrated on the stern of the ship and the relief of the Rock’s shadow was now denied him.

  The report was delivered personally to the Admiral in the great cabin of the flagship. Robert stood before the desk studying his newly arrived commander. Rear-Admiral Lord Broughan-Midgham was a big man with a healthy farmer’s open face, and as he sat reading Robert’s report, the sweat ran freely down his plump cheeks.

  “Damn it’s hot!” He ran his finger round his neck loosening his stock, then “Right young Graham, I’ve read the words. Now tell me what you really think is happening.” He fixed Robert with a steely stare, “Sit down man. Wallace, get some wine for the captain,” this aside, to his servant waiting by the open door.

  Robert sat as ordered, “Well, sir, I believe that we can control Bone, at least by allowing the Bey to carry on ruling the port but under our eye. By placing garrisons in the forts the city, palace and harbour would be under our control. The local people look to the Bey as their ruler and in my opinion he would be quite happy to resume his position under British rule, provided we do not prevent the people following their Muslim beliefs.”

  Robert sat back.

  Broughan studied the young man seated across the desk, then “What of the Princess, the Bey’s sister?”

  “I am sure she would be much happier with her brother back in charge, sir. In the Muslim world women carry little authority on their own. I did arrange matters on a purely temporary basis.”

  “Very well, you will reinstate the Bey under our supervision as you have suggested, we probably have some sort of civilian who can act as the Bey’s conscience, a High Commissioner or some such. I will send a company of infantry and a company of artillery to hold the forts. I’ll have the orders sent over to you and arrange for a departure within the week.” He turned to the austere looking figure of his flag captain. “See to it, Merrick, will you?”

  At that he turned once more to Robert. “Right, Captain. You may prepare for this task and for an onward voyage to Sicily, with despatches for Sir William Hamilton, Ambassador to the King of Naples who is currently visiting Palermo. Off you go.”

  Thus dismissed Robert rose and returned to his ship and the privacy of his own cabin.

  With his coat removed and his shirt open, Robert stood by the open windows watching the swooping sea birds diving on the scraps floating on the surface of the water. A light breeze gave some relief from the heat. He thought about Captain Merrick, husband of the lovely Elizabeth. At the thought of her, he flushed and recalled the sight of that beautiful body rising from the scented waters of the bath in the palace of the Bey, of the intensity of their lovemaking in the bedchamber cooled by the sea breeze through the open windows.

  She made comment at his hesitation at the outset of their liaison; then explained her attitude to his suggestion that the outcome could be an embarrassing pregnancy. “Edward needs and requires an heir, he is an anxious and poor lover and it appears he cannot provide one, I must therefore make
my own arrangements, however discreetly.”

  She made it quite clear that she would not be tied in any way as she had no intention of leaving her husband, of whom she was quite fond. At the same time she did find him Robert, a pleasant companion and a pleasing bed mate, whom she would readily welcome if circumstances allowed.

  As Robert uneasily conceded afterwards, it was after all a gentlemanly thing to do, having done and said all.

  When the HMS Roister sailed in convoy with seven merchantmen en route to Sicily; there was an additional sloop of war HMS Jaipur swiftly becoming known affectionately as the Jampot, Commander John Keith, under Roberts command.

  The transfer of the garrison and the installation of the Bey went as anticipated without hitch, and Mara, the Princess, sister of the Bey, was most grateful for the relief from the complexities involved in the rule of the North African Territory. To Roberts’s embarrassment she seemed to look to him for counsel, and it was with some relief he found that his First Lieutenant Billy Beaumont was only too pleased to take over the mantle of confident to the princess.

  The remainder of the voyage to Sicily went without incident, though the ships found uncomfortable sailing with the onset of the Sirocco. The wind carried the sand from the desert and deposited it on every open area, and pushed dust throughout the interior of the passing ships.

  Sir William Hamilton was a kind and interesting man; over dinner he discussed his archaeological findings in the historic area around Naples and here in Sicily. The society in Palermo was provincial but well suited to the nature of the area which was bucolic rather than cosmopolitan, and the easy manner of Sir William Hamilton was well in tune with the tenor of the place. Significantly his comments on the progress of the French incursion into Italy were prophetic.

 

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