Shores of Barbary (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 12)

by Andrew Wareham

  “And did Curlew cross Valmy repeatedly, sir?”

  “Well, as it transpired, in fact, sir, she did not quite manage that little job, sir. She poured one into Valmy’s stern, sir, but fell in irons making her tack to return and ended up under the disengaged broadside, which took her masts, you might say. Fortunately, sir, Valmy, being larger, made a greater leeway and fell across Curlew, sir, which enabled her to board. The one broadside Curlew did manage at the stern did no favours to Valmy’s steering, sir, hence her falling foul of her, you might say.”

  “You took Valmy by boarding, losing some sixty officers and men – nearly one quarter of your complement. I must admire your valour, Captain O’Neill. I shall seek men from the released slaves, many of whom have no homes to return to. You will need to refit in Malta, having taken such damage underwater that you are pumping two hours of each watch. Your prize crew can take Valmy in with you, sir. My report will of course go with you. The admiral in Malta will forward it to the Admiralty. It may well be published in the Gazette, sir.”

  Frederick did not add that the victory was so far from shining that it might well be quietly ignored.

  “Ah, I am in need of officers, sir, having lost me second and third and three of my four midshipmen.”

  “Make some acting, Mr O’Neill. The admiral in Malta will be able to find bodies for you.”

  Captain O’Neill returned to his ship, surprised at Frederick’s lack of enthusiasm, wondering if his admiral might not be jealous of his great success.

  Frederick turned to Captain Griffiths of Curlew, Master and Commander and no doubt hoping to be made post for his efforts.

  “Captain O’Neill has made a good report of you, Mr Giffiths. I trust you will continue in such virtuous paths. Curlew is to go into the yard here and will be remasted, we hope. There are some spars sufficient for your needs, the French having supplied some outstanding Dalmatian oak, presumably intending to use the harbour for their own needs. They have timber here to refit a substantial squadron, which will be mentioned in the reports to Malta, of course. A peculiar place to discover a fully equipped shipyard. Make fullest use of the yard, sir, to refit Curlew. I shall send the other small vessels in as well as they come available.”

  “Yes, sir. I had wondered, sir, whether there might be some promotions to hand for some of my young men.”

  “You are short one lieutenant of your two, and lost two midshipmen, I believe. Your master is also dead. You had four midshipmen, I see – strictly, of course, two of them were master’s mates. Can you promote either of your surviving mids?”

  “Both are very young, sir. Squeakers still.”

  “You must have another lieutenant, that is for sure. I shall speak to my flag-captain and we shall discover a man for you. Can you promote a master?”

  “The senior master’s mate is capable, sir.”

  “Good. I cannot find midshipmen, of course. You are liberty to make gentlemen of any of your hands if you consider it appropriate.”

  Unspoken was Mr Griffiths’ desire to be made post while the promotions were being handed out. Frederick had no vacancy, but was not minded to promote him any case; failing to make one’s tack did not in Frederick’s mind serve as qualification for post-captaincy.

  Curlew took her mooring in the harbour at the end of the week and then all available hands set to stripping the yards and the whole town of everything of value, while pulling everything that must remain in the yards into great, flammable heaps.

  Barrels of tar were broken open in the yards and in all of the larger premises along the wharves. Captured gunpowder was tipped in piles next to the tar. Earthenware jars of cooking oil were smashed in the houses and left to soak into the floors and walls. The straw pallets from the slave barracks were all pulled together in the middle of the building. The furniture of the palace, such little as there was, was thoroughly smashed and piled together in the hall, the remaining contents of the kitchens piled on top.

  Powder trails were laid and ceremoniously lit before the sailors returned to their ships and cast off from the shore. Then they sat at anchor and watched the show.

  The Sea Soldiers evacuated their batteries and returned to their transports. They had double-loaded and split the barrels of the cannon that they had left behind and had laid trains to the barrels of French and unlabelled, local gunpowder in the cellars. They sat back and watched hopefully, enjoying a loud bang as much as any.

  They sailed at nightfall, leaving desolation behind them.

  “Course for Benghazi, Captain Arbuthnot.”

  Book Twelve: The Duty

  and Destiny Series

  Chapter Five

  “Prizes and escort to detach, Captain Arbuthnot.”

  The escort was not strictly necessary for the run to Malta, but if the prize crews were ever to return, he must send a sloop to bring them back again.

  Four xebecs of more than one hundred tons, the largest closer to two hundred, in fact; three merchant polaccas, smaller, their hulls effectively worthless but carrying the released slaves, the four hundred who had chosen to return to their homes rather than sign onto the lower-deck in the squadron. The great bulk of the men taken from the Sicilian and Spanish coast had wanted to go back to their villages, though aware that they might not still exist after the raids upon them; they might find some of their families, they hoped, even after the years that had passed.

  “They have not a chance, sir,” Captain Arbuthnot repeated. “Not the least possibility, poor souls. They will find strangers if, indeed, they discover any population at all along that coast. I have pity for them, and wonder as well how they will live. There will be no boats to fish from and their few fields will have reverted to weeds. They will have no money to start afresh with. They will be lucky indeed if they do not end up as beggars in the streets of their biggest town, whatever that may be.”

  “I agree, sir. Yet I could not force them to sign on – that would be to enslave them again. There is no happy ending for those men! Poor souls, as you say.”

  “What next, sir?”

  “Blockade Benghazi for a day or two, just show ourselves and perhaps make a threat of bombardment, even a sham of a landing. In essence, anger and humiliate them. After that, we shall see. I am at least free of those damned reports!”

  Two days of unbroken reading and writing had left Frederick frazzled, irritable, waiting the opportunity to explode.

  The Captains of fifteen vessels had submitted their detailed accounts of all of their doings, ranging from the bald simplicity of Sandwich’s paragraph – ‘sailed to Benghazi, saw nothing, came back again’, to the complexity of Lachesis’ shot by shot, sail by sail - second by second almost - tale of her doings. All had had to be read, compared to each other for timings, summarised, put together into a log of the squadron’s actions for the whole period in harbour. Additionally, Major Prentice had submitted his records of the assaults upon the two batteries, their action against the Bey’s horsemen and the later demolition of the fortifications.

  Lists had to be made of killed and wounded, making mention of the particularly deserving. Further lists, in far greater detail, had to be provided of stores expended, with a justification for their use. Frederick was not amused that he had to provide no excuse for the death of his men, but he had to explain precisely why he had chosen to draw extra rations to feed the released slaves.

  The accounting for the Prize Fund was simple – he merely had to sign the lists of every single item taken, certifying that the quantity and quality was precisely as stated – and then accept the manifests for the goods loaded onto the taken xebecs and sent to the Prize Court in Malta.

  Finally, he had to send in the indents for stores expended and to be replaced from the Quartermasters in Malta. The primary need was for medical supplies to replace those used by the Surgeons – and here he had to do no more than testify to the numbers of men killed outright; the names of those who died after the battles; and the names and ratings of those w
ho recovered and returned to duty, together with a statement of men to be invalided out – too much wounded to serve, insufficiently so to be conveniently, and inexpensively, buried. Master, boatswain, sailmaker and carpenter of each ship also sent in a detailed requisition, all to be collated, but needing little checking as they were countersigned by their captain, who thus accepted blame for inaccuracies.

  Frederick and his clerk and Lieutenant Aggers had devoted more than sixty hours between them to the reports. They were tired, and knew that there would be mistakes in them; there must be, perfection was impossible. One day, possibly not for a decade, an Admiralty clerk would pick up on those errors, and there would be an inquest and probably a demand for the repayment of a few pounds against them; there might be a court-martial, if the clerk was vindictive and the First Lord uncaring.

  The existence of reports was reason for an Admiral to go to half-pay, never to sail again; the fact that there was a few thousand in the Prize Fund was argument for continuing to serve, Frederick thought.

  He had never been greedy, as a young man, had been concerned more to earn fame and glory, and promotion on its back. But now he had rank, and two sons and a daughter, each with his or her own rights and desires which he wished to meet in full. Add to that, he rather liked having money in his pocket; it was very pleasant occasionally to spend without having to count the cost. He was very well off now, he supposed, but that was no reason to imagine that another few thousand would not come in handy.

  Frederick invited Captain Arbuthnot to dine with him that evening – an Admiral must keep a table and was expected to offer some hospitality, and it gave a chance to discuss his course of action less formally.

  “Lachesis is to the dockyard, and will not return to the squadron in the immediate future, possibly never, which is a nuisance, Captain Arbuthnot, to be deprived of our sole frigate. Sloop Curlew will also require time in the yard, though not such a great deal, having been able to remast her ourselves. A strange thing that, the yard having spars in such quantity and size; lower masts, topmasts, topgallant and royals, and with yards to match. Lucky that Valmy could take a deck cargo; it would have been shameful to have burned those. Ships’ timbers as well of best, seasoned Dalmatic oak. They will all – those that the carpenters didn’t pinch - be bought in by the admiral in Malta – good price too!”

  “French timber sir, and sent presumably for their own needs. The Frogs would not have given such gifts to the Berbers, sir – why should they? They could not use them, not running to square-rigged ships themselves. No, sir, those spars say to me that the French intended to use the harbour as a repair yard and base for their own ships. Valmy frigate was but the first, I must imagine.”

  “They will be annoyed, I believe, Captain Arbuthnot, when they get there and find no harbour at all. I think we must send two of the cutters on patrol along the Gulf between Misrata and Benghazi, keeping an eye out for the French who will likely arrive looking for a refit. There are still French 74s to be found in the Greek Islands, and even off the coast of Egypt, in pursuance of Bonaparte’s dream of securing the passage to India. Our three two-deckers together could deal with any small squadron of Frogs, I believe.”

  “It would be the end of Preston, sir. A single vigorous action would leave her unable to swim. The bombardment kept her carpenter busy for a week closing her seams and reinforcing the remainder of her knees.”

  “True, but I am quite willing to let Preston go to her long home, if in process we sink or take a squadron of the French.”

  Captain Arbuthnot thought that a little drastic, but he had to admit that a victory would be worth some cost to the squadron.

  “I have decided, however, that we must annoy the people of Benghazi first. Close the port to all coastal traffic; parade outside the harbour mouth; threaten the shore forts; the meanwhile send Harfleur and Sandwich with the Sea Soldiers to take and burn a more distant bastion to the east, assuming we locate a vulnerable target. That done, a week or two later to sail west and see what we can do on the coast towards Tripoli. The Admiralty orders say that we must send a ship in to threaten the rulers of the great cities; I think we shall be content to send a note in by taken small craft. The Barbary pirates are quite capable of sinking a vessel under a white flag, by way of defiance. We shall not give them that opportunity.”

  Captain Arbuthnot agreed that it was unwise to trust to the sense of honour of the denizens of the Barbary Coast; or of any foreigners for that matter.

  “That said, sir, the Sea Soldiers did rather well, I thought. I must confess that I expected little of them - no more than a colonial militia by origin, after all – but they showed very professional.”

  “They did indeed. I am to discuss their doings in detail with Major Prentice and his senior captains, and to consider questions of promotion with him. We have a problem there, as you may be aware.”

  Captain Arbuthnot knew of that problem, and wished Frederick joy in its solution, glad for once that he was not the admiral.

  “I shall visit the two transports tomorrow, Captain Arbuthnot, and shall dine Major Prentice and his officers when we are off Benghazi.”

  “All of his officers, sir?”

  “Every last one of them, Captain Arbuthnot. Yourself, Captains Baker and Paget as well. We shall do the job thoroughly, sir, because they have earned our respect.”

  Major Prentice joined Frederick for his inspection of the two parts of his battalion, introducing his officers in proper fashion and nodding gravely as Frederick addressed his men, the same speech to each pair of companies.

  “A very smart turn-out, men. Well done! Also, my thanks to you for your work at Mars-Al- Brega, where you did all that could have been expected of you, and more. I have reported to their Lordships of the Admiralty that you carried out your orders in the best traditions of the Navy. I have suggested that you might be made into a permanent Royal Marine Battalion – though I do not know whether that will eventuate. There will be further actions on land in the next weeks and I know that I will be able to rely on you. I am very pleased to have you in my command – an admiral must always want the best, and you have shown yourselves to be just that.”

  At the end of the morning Frederick invited Major Prentice to return to Conquest with him.

  “Your butcher’s bill, Major Prentice, was light – which is a source of some pleasure to both of us, I do not doubt. Unfortunately, three of your deaths were of officers, men leading, as they should, from the front. That provides us with a problem, one whose solution is not simple.”

  “It is not, sir. Lost, one captain and two lieutenants; wounded and returned to Malta, one captain and one lieutenant. Also lost, but more easily replaced, one native officer, as they are inelegantly termed.”

  “Correct me if I am wrong, Major Prentice, but every company has a captain and a lieutenant, each transferred in the Sugar Island from the Regulars there. So, four captains and lieutenants; they are aided by two native officers in each company, promoted from your own sergeants. Are the native officers commissioned, as such?”

  “The Governor of Jamaica commissioned them in his own Militia, sir. They have the equivalent of ensign’s rank, but a higher pay rate, to reflect their extra responsibility. The Governor, sir, had some experience in the Madras Presidency in India, and was influenced by the sepoys of John Company, who have senior native officers, of course.”

  Frederick asked Lieutenant Aggers to make a note of the officers’ provenance. He suspected he would have to explain his actions in full at a later date.

  “The Admiralty informed me that I was to make use of your half battalion, Major Prentice, but did not look as far forward as the possibility of deaths in action. When Marine officers are lost – which is not an infrequent event, in the nature of things – the admiral has the power to issue acting commissions, to replace them. I take that to be my precedent. I cannot make use of you if you have too few officers.”

  “Two captains and three lieutenants gone, si
r, an awkward number. I have only one lieutenant to take his step.”

  “Exactly. I trust he is capable of so doing?”

  “He is, sir.”

  “Good, you will wish, I must imagine, to ensure that one of the experienced captains is to be found in each transport.”

  “That will be arranged, sir.”

  “Good. My first thought is to make a senior Marine lieutenant and transfer him to you as your fourth captain. Marines promote by seniority and I am certain that I will discover a young man happy to take his step perhaps a decade early.”

  Major Prentice thought that probable.

  “What of the four lieutenants, sir?”

  “I will grant acting commission as lieutenant to four of your native officers, Major Prentice. Provided you are willing to enter them into your wardroom, that is.”

  “I have been unable to envisage an alternative, sir. I know which four I shall choose.”

  “Good. Speak to Mr Aggers here and show him the wording for your documents, if you would be so good, and all will be done as quickly as can be. I presume you will make all of the other necessary promotions yourself. Do you wish to parade your people and make a ceremony of granting their commissions? If so, will you wish me to hand them across in person? If you prefer to do so yourself, well, you know your own people and what is best. The decision is yours, sir.”

  The dinner was held, successfully, conversation maintained manfully and the native officers and newly promoted lieutenants all showing able to use a knife and fork, to the relief of the naval officers. The second half of the evening, well lubricated by wine, was naturally easier, both parties able to offer song and humour – and if they did not all understand each other’s jokes – well, who noticed? Importantly, none of the guests, navy or army, was able to walk entirely straight on leaving, which was always the sign of a good evening.

  Frederick was pleased that he had brought all of his subordinates together, firmly believing that men fought better for knowing each other. It was, he rather pompously proclaimed, a part of an admiral’s duty, to make his people into a single unit; then he fell into his cot and slept heavily till dawn.