“What of the Turkish garrison?”
“They are sat in the two big forts, sir, with the Greeks seeking to cut their throats whenever they venture out and them reciprocating at any opportunity. Best to leave them to it, sir, as we might be forced to take sides otherwise.”
“And the French invasion force?”
“That, sir, they had no certain knowledge of, but thought it might be at sea, there having been no merchant vessels sailing from the north in the last little while.”
“We should do all we can to discover the reality, I think, Mr Murray. Thank you, sir! Mr Nias, change course to follow the coast north, I believe. Bearing in mind the prevailing winds, Mr Nias, what would be the most likely track for the French to follow, assuming they are using small local merchantmen for troop carriers?”
Nias had not the least idea, but knew better than to say so. He was able to turn to his charts and pencil in the route he would have taken and then set a course for a sensible, dawn interception, assuming their speeds and starting date to be the most likely.
“They will have sailed with a full moon, sir, easier by far to keep their convoy together during the nights. Full daylight for a landing if they are to take boats into the beaches, though they would wish to enter any harbour at first light. If they miss their time then they may be expected to anchor in the shelter of a convenient island for half a day or so.”
That assumed that they would not simply work their way down the Italian coast until they could make the short passage directly east to Corfu. The French did not command the whole of the coastline, would probably not take the risk of being spotted and a fast boat running ahead of them to arrange a reception.
“North then, as far from the Seven Islands as possible so that if the convoy is split up we will have the opportunity to run them down piecemeal. What are the typical merchantmen of these coasts, Mr Nias?”
“Venetian traders, sir? Typical? Brigs and commonly ships, much like any others to be found in the largest ports – for they were often used to trade into Atlantic waters. Adriatic coastal vessels are more varied, commonly polaccas and feluccas of anything from twenty tons to two hundred and with a mix of lateens and square sails. The smaller feluccas and tartanes would be hard pressed to carry two platoons of infantry, the largest polaccas might take half of a battalion or perhaps a battery of twelve pound field guns, though not their horses as well.”
A convoy carrying a single brigade of infantry together with field guns and commissariat would need five or six Atlantic traders, or thirty or forty of coastal sail. It would be escorted, but by what?
“The Turks have sailed south, we are told, Mr Murray. Does that smack of duplicitous arrangement?”
“Of course, sir, what else could there be in this part of the world? A bribe to an admiral, a promise to pasha and bey… All of the most usual, sir.”
The ‘promise’ it transpired would normally be of independence, of the creation of small principalities free of the Ottoman Empire and with guarantees of protection against Austrian incursion. If the Balkans became a mass of tiny statelets, all in conspiracy against each other and the Ottomans and the Austrians, and all hostile to the existence of an autonomous Greece, then French - or British perhaps - ambitions would be more easily attained.
“You seem to imply, Lieutenant Murray, that we might be well-advised to allow the French to first subvert the bases of Ottoman and Austrian power, and then to destroy the Frogs without permitting the return of the original authorities.”
“Downing Street might be pleased if you did, sir, but you must be certain that you can extirpate the French influence – no half measures.”
One frigate, no soldiers, and the potential might of the French Empire to be countered.
“No, Mr Murray, as the men would say, ‘sod that for a game of skittles!’ That is not a set of risks that I fancy.”
“I tend to applaud your wisdom, sir. Given a fleet and an expeditionary force, then perhaps it would work as a policy, but even then I would advise caution. Indeed, sir, can you safely make an attack upon the invasion convoy, if such exists?”
“Safely? If I wished to be safe then I would stay at home, Mr Murray! But it is not impossible that we might make the Frogs wish they had stayed at home instead. We may assume that they know the Turks will not intercept them, and they will be aware that the bulk of the Russian squadron is otherwise engaged. Is it possible that they may have arranged that as well, Mr Murray?”
“A lesser degree of certainty, sir, but all things are feasible. I am no expert on Russian politics, and I am told that only a Russian can be, for having the feeling for the national character – which is unique, as well as being pickled in their vodka. Where was I? Ah, yes – the question of whether a Russian admiral might be subverted by French gold. If he is of a family that might be at risk if the present tsar was to be assassinated – and any tsar may always be struck down for any number of reasons – then he might seek financial reassurance, but it would be in no small sum. So my answer tends to be the question of how much the French can pay in gold coin, cash in hand. They may have been able to steal from Venice – they certainly will have done so, but most of the loot will have gone to Paris – and retain sufficient for their local needs, but I doubt it. It is possible that an arrangement has been made between Paris and St Petersburg for a local accommodation, and that I suggest is in fact far more likely. Russia is on bad terms with England at the moment and could well be considering changing sides. The Tsar might show his potential good will to France, and this new First Consul of theirs, by an order to the admiral to lose himself in the Mediterranean for a few weeks. It is, now I think on it, quite likely.”
Frederick would have preferred a simple yes or no, but he thought it probable that Murray was saying that the French would expect no trouble from the Russian navy. If such was the case then the French would have escort sufficient to deal with any fortuitous encounter with Barbary pirates or such, but would not be expecting any significant naval battle. The presence of Trident in these waters should still be wholly unknown to them; even if there were spies in Malta - and it would be surprising if there were not, they must be present in every naval base – they would not have had time to get any message to Venice.
“Let us see if we may disappoint the Frogs, gentlemen. Master and officers and senior warrants to my cabin, Mr Backham.”
“It is my intention to utterly destroy this invasion; we should send a message throughout the whole of these waters. Trident is to seek out and take or destroy ships of war; launch and longboat with carronades and boarding parties to take the surrender of the transports, gentlemen. It will be of the greatest importance to ensure that the soldiery offer their formal acceptance of terms – do not assume that the ship’s master is empowered to speak for the military passengers. Point out, gentlemen, that you will have no qualms in taking off the crew and then firing the ship if the army will not surrender.”
“Can we do that, sir?”
“Easily, Mr Backham. The gunner will make up combustibles to go aboard each boat – a bag of gunpowder wrapped in tar-soaked rags with a length of slow match is said to be very effective.”
Backham was often naïve, but he realised that Frederick had deliberately chosen to misunderstand him and said no more; perhaps his conscience was too tender for the demands of modern war.
“Captain on deck, sir?”
“It is not a question, Mr Fox! You are informing me of a necessary action, as ordered by the Officer of the Watch. If the need arises you are permitted to shout in my sleeping ear, though you should not, for example, shake my shoulder. A voice of command, Mr Fox, not a polite query!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why, Mr Fox, am I required on deck?”
Frederick’s loyal retainer, Bosomtwi was bustling with coat, hat and swordbelt and Frederick had a few seconds to spare for the education of a bright midshipman.
“Sails, sir, to the north, from the masthead. Several
small vessels and one at least a little larger, and in company.”
“How long till sunset, Mr Fox?”
“Two hours and twenty minutes, sir. Visibility poor, sir, due to cloud. Wind in the south-east, strengthening, but the Master says will not become even half a gale.”
“Well done! You should always acquaint me with the knowledge I must need, Mr Fox.”
There was a clattering and banging on deck, the sounds of clearing for action. Backham must have called ‘All Hands’, a decision a First was always free to make and one that showed a proper initiative.
Would Backham be fit to command? He still had not made up his mind.
He ran up on deck, looked to the north but there was nothing in sight from sea-level yet.
“How long to close, Mr Nias?”
“An hour, sir.”
“Is this wind reliable?”
“It should be set in the south-east, sir. The barometer has dropped a little but shows no indication of any great storm. I would think it more likely than not that we have twenty-four hours in this wind, possibly longer.”
Two and a half hours of daylight. A whole convoy could not be taken in ninety minutes and most of its ships would scatter and disappear in the dark hours… it was worth a risk.
“Strip to single-reef courses, Mr Nias. Initially to the south-west, then bring us about in the night to close the convoy from due west at dawn. Have you any indication of the convoy’s speed?”
“Assuming it is not the fisher-fleet out of some Albanian village, sir, then we would expect them to shorten sail and huddle together in the night hours, tucked up under the guns of the escort. Steerage-way and little more, sir.”
The escorts should be to windward of their charges, but any threat must come from the south and west, not from the east. The commander of the escort would probably choose to sacrifice the wind-gage in order to keep his ships between any enemy and the convoy – he would have only minutes in which to react to a night attack.
“Lookouts up all night, Mr Backham. It may be possible to pick up a careless lantern, for example, or a binnacle light. Keep the fire lit in the galley and serve the men their morning cocoa early. They will do better for a hot drink with their piece of hardtack.”
Many of the men were quite toothless and few of those above thirty had even half a complement of molars – they would appreciate the opportunity to dip their biscuit and soften it.
“Ball to the long guns and chasers, sir?”
“Yes. We shall aim to engage the escorts, and if possible to sink or disable them very quickly, to provide the transports with the encouragement to surrender. Soldiers tend to be unenthusiastic about drowning, I believe, and a few examples should help them come to a right decision.”
“Assuming, sir, that there is a full brigade of soldiers, and that they surrender, what do we do with them?”
“Take them to Malta and give them to the admiral there, with my kindest regards, Mr Backham. We have no Fuzzy-Wuzzies available to provide an alternative solution.”
The smiles in response were forced, more so than was normal for Frederick’s wit.
Five thousand prisoners – even on half-rations that would be a lot of food to come out of the admiral’s cupboard. He would either seek to exchange them or send them to Port Mahon as quickly as he could – but that was his problem, not Frederick’s.
“They have hoisted lanterns to their tops, sir! Every one of them is showing a light!”
“Generous of them, Mr Nias. It shows that they have no expectation of hostile ships of war. They must know that the Turks and Russians have been sent away, told to play elsewhere and act very surprised when they return to find a French army resident in the Seven Islands. It also confirms that they have no information of our presence in these waters – if they knew of a powerful frigate then they would be far less carefree.”
“Unless they seek to trap us, sir.”
“They have no need to, Mr Nias. Why risk an action at sea when they can simply beef up their garrisons and wait for us to attempt them?”
“It is likely then that the troopships are not French, as such, sir – they wish to keep an eye on them, see that they do not slope off in the dark.”
They watched for the first half of the night, holding off three parts of the way to the horizon and trying to distinguish the French vessels and tell which were escort, which troopers.
“One tall ship, sir, the mast-head lights suggesting topgallants, and that is a national ship for sure. Six or seven more of three-masters, but the lights much lower, implying pole masts – so polaccas, merchantmen almost for certain. Another fifteen lanterns, two-masters or just the one, and no easy way to tell in the dark, but lower still – feluccas or caiques, perhaps ten of them.”
“One escort only, Mr Backham?”
“Unlikely, sir – we will probably discover an armed brig or sloop, perhaps two.”
“Excellent – we need a little practice with the great guns. Time of dawn, Mr Nias?”
“Effectively, sir, soon after eight bells. There is a bank of cloud to the east, over the land, and that will combine with the mountains to reduce the light, to give in effect a long twilight period. How long, of course, I am unable to calculate with any degree of certainty.”
To an extent the period of part darkness was to their advantage, approaching from the west as they were.
“Let as many as may be of the hands sleep at their stations, Mr Backham. Stir them at seven bells – though, thinking on it, let the bell not be sounded as such, merely quietly called around the lookouts.”
The sound of a bell could often be heard far across still waters. They had no wish to give the alarm to an alert Frenchman, and the species must exist after nearly ten years of warfare.
“Courses alone, Mr Nias, or would you wish to risk topsails as well?”
“I would take an even greater risk, sir, and call for t’gallants while we are closing on a course nearly perpendicular to theirs – our profile much reduced, bows on or nearly so. Strip to courses immediately prior to bringing the broadside to bear, then single reef, and, if possible, set the topsails again and furl the courses.”
Nias, quite properly, was alert to the dangers of fire and wished to strip to fighting sail despite this slowing them to one or two knots.
“If we find ourselves committed to an exchange of broadsides, a hammering match, then do so, Mr Nias. But be ready for the order to chase – there may be another escort who chooses to run rather than commit himself in protection of the transports.”
A captain who was prepared to die with all of his crew could delay them for twenty minutes or longer, even in a sloop, which would permit the bulk of the convoy to close the land, enter territorial waters and claim protection. That would be a nuisance if there were neutral witnesses.
“Silently call ‘All Hands’, Mr Backham.”
Life had its little pleasures; observing Backham trying to follow that order was one of them. The hands were well-drilled and under command – they obeyed immediately and showed an understanding of what was demanded of them. A disaffected crew could have sabotaged his purpose without showing in any way disobedient, but the Trident’s crew scurried to their places without a word or stumble.
“Load ball, long guns. Grape, carronades.”
The crews had all been warned in advance, but the order had to be given – there must be no room for uncertainty.
“Close the escort, Mr Nias, not further than two cables, preferably inside comfortable range for the carronades, but use your discretion, sir.”
Nias would not thank him for that order but there would be little time for consultations – he must take the decision though the responsibility would, must, remain the captain’s.
The wind was picking up, veering a little more into the north, a strong breeze, no call for reefs yet, so far an advantageous change.
“Five knots, Mr Nias?”
“Fractionally less, I would say, sir.”
> Forty minutes to close the convoy.
The French lookouts should be on deck unless they had reason to be especially cautious. If there was a man in the mastheads then he would be watching the merchantmen, not trusting them to hold a course at night. The moon was setting, the cloud haze growing, they should remain invisible until very close, unless…
They could only wait. He could not set the men to singing nor put the fiddle and trumpet to play martial airs; they must simply be patient, imaginations racing.
“Mastheads to check all round the ship, Mr Backham, send a mid up to tell them.”
It would be terminally embarrassing to be taken unawares by a pair of frigates to their stern. The court-martial on the loss of the Trident would be unforgiving in such circumstances.
“Clear, sir.”
Davidson was in the bows with the master’s night-glass, a short telescope with lenses of a broader than normal diameter to collect all of the available light. In some circumstances the night-glass could be a useful aid. He returned to the quarter-deck shaking his head.
“Frigate, sir, single-deck certainly and too small to be one of the heavy Venetians, I believe. No lights, no sign of clearing for action, sir, but there could be surreptitious activity – I could not see sufficiently, sir.”
“Hoist ensigns, Mr Backham – they will not be able to see them, and we do not fly flags at night, I know, but they shall not say that we did not fight under our colours.”
“Distant how far, Mr Nias?”
“Three cables, sir.”
Nias clamped his jaw shut, hands behind his back, motionless.
Frederick began to wonder whether he had been stricken by a palsy when he gave a sudden shout to the boatswain.
“Now, Mr Cheek!”
Topmen poured aloft and the guns were run out; the steersmen heaved the wheel hard over, assuming that the men at the sheets had done their job. All was done in silence, none of the normal cries, and very quickly – a risky manoeuvre and one that was probably only possible in the razee with its heavy scantlings, the hull and spars built to the demands of a much larger two-decker.
Fortune And Glory (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 5) Page 2
