Fifty pounds weight of ragged-edged fragments of granite or other hard rock would butcher a gun deck, at least as effective as grape.
"So, with luck one at least of the frigates will be injured and may have lost crewmen, but they cannot be expected to have stone shot just yet."
"No, sir. There is the chance that they may not choose to pursue, sir. They may have another task to complete."
"Mr Murray thinks not, from all the young lieutenant told him. Their admiral is, in fact, seeking a success to compensate for his inability to carry out his original orders. He was, it would seem, expected to drive Sir Sydney Smith's squadron away from the vicinity of Acre, and then to succour the French army, or such that remained of it. He chose not to do so, discovering the squadron to be heavily reinforced since the plan was made. Was he to return to Venice or Toulon he would be called a coward and would certainly lose his head - probably unjustifiably - so he must be able to claim a triumph."
"The destruction of one heavy frigate is hardly that, I would have thought, sir."
"The capture of the captain of the Charybdis - who is not a well-regarded gentleman in France - might be seen as worthwhile."
"Ah... What does Mr Murray say, sir?"
"He suggests that I should not be taken."
Nias thought it was rather unfair. It was not as if the captain had eaten the French crewmen himself.
"May I suggest that we change course soon after leaving the shores of Crete, sir? Was we to add a significant southing, sir, after the French have located us, then we would be seen as attempting to close the convoy, having lost them in the night."
Even two hours would put them another ten miles away from the actual position of the merchantmen, would add more than seventy square miles to the search area; three hours would double that.
"Make it so, Mr Nias."
Active would not be coming back to search for survivors so it did not matter that they would not be where they were expected.
"What of Crete itself, Mr Nias?"
"We will enter the approaches to the Antikythiro Channel, sir, in two hours, or thereabouts and should keep the lights of the villages and the town of Chania in sight for much of the hours of darkness. Offshore wind, sir, so there is a prospect of an easy passage."
"And then five hundred miles of open sea to Malta - far less likely to be intercepted there, and the French will not wish to clap on sail and hover off the entrance to Valetta, knowing that the escort to the Levanters will be in the vicinity at some time in the next weeks."
It seemed likely that the convoy was safe, but not certain. Trident could not take the risk of running for the open seas until the next morning.
"See a grey goose at a mile, sir!"
The traditional call, suggesting that the dawn light was strong enough to make the change from night to day routine. The coast was just in sight to their south, mountains showing blue and distant.
Frederick wondered for a second just how visible a grey goose might be - they were not that big a bird, surely.
"Not to worry, that may be decided on another day. Lookouts aloft!"
Routine took over, dawn in these waters coinciding with the change of the watch.
The hammocks came up and filled the netting, the pumps were shipped and the deck scrubbed and dried, as on every morning, the procedure then made pointless by parties carefully spreading wet sand across the planks to give good footing in action. It would have made sense not to clean the deck at all, but that would have overset the whole basis of the day, could not be countenanced.
Cocoa was made, hot skilly as well - the thin porridge somewhat thicker than normal, an extra portion of oats in the pots. The bread barges were filled, double rations of hard-tack for those who wanted it.
"Mr Jenkinson!"
Frederick held a brief conversation with the purser and the master, established that French fire in their last action had utterly destroyed two ankers of rum. One of the lost barrels would provide the crew with an extra tot that morning, and a celebratory issue if the occasion arose; the other would be sold off, proceeds equally split between the pair.
"I do have some four barrels of a red wine, as well, sir."
"In Malta, Mr Jenkinson - I shall buy a couple of buffaloes and we shall have a feast."
Nothing ever remained a secret and the hands from Charybdis all remembered the feast they had held in Port Mahon, rapidly told the others aboard of the treat to come.
"Wind is backing, sir, turning into a westerly, I suspect. I doubt its strength as well, sir, it may well ease to a very gentle breeze. We may have to tack our way through the Antikythiro, sir."
There was sparse sea-room in that passage, due to the presence of small islands and reefs, and that could mean short tacks and a very slow passage.
The mainmast called a sail a few minutes later, a little before the noon sightings were taken.
"Half the day gained, Mr Archbold. Send Mr Fox up with the telescope."
"Ship rigged, sir, and carrying royals."
"Clear for action, Mr Archbold."
The powder boys ran to the magazine. All else was long done.
"Wet the decks, Mr Archbold - hot sun will have dried the sand."
An experienced premier would have known that, would have taken action already.
"Put the most able gunlayers to point all of the guns in each section, Mr Archbold. I hope to open fire at six cables, using our skills to their best."
It was normal practice to hold fire until the enemy was close and every round of a broadside would tell. Aimed single shots were not regarded as a profitable use of powder and ball as a rule.
Fox's voice pierced through the scurrying on the deck.
"Ship is a sloop, sir, twelve or fourteen guns. Hoisting signals, sir. French colours, I believe - certainly not Turkish, sir."
Two hours to concentrate the whole squadron and form a line, then a slow approach; at least as long again to bring themselves in range, probably no more than an hour of daylight remaining. It would be possible to hammer the leading frigate, probably to disable her before the others could close. Was there only two of the Frogs then they could be taken in these circumstances. Four was a different matter.
"Seven now in sight, sir, hull down. One a small brig and two ship-sloops, sir. Four much taller ships, sir."
All of the big frigates together. At least the convoy was within reason safe.
"Forming line, sir, the four, that is. The small ships are taking in sail, sir, falling to the rear."
Rational, but not what Frederick would have done. The French admiral could have sent his sloops off in pursuit of the convoy, which would have forced Trident to attempt to intercept them and upset any other plans that might have been made. By pulling the small vessels off he gave the choice of ground to Trident.
"He has formed his line too early, sir, forcing all to conform to the pace of the slowest, or of any who have taken damage to their rigging in earlier action. It might have made sense, sir, to let one of them lag behind - three should be able to hold us while the slowcoach joins."
"No great strategist the Frog admiral, Mr Nias. Did your lieutenant give him a name, Mr Murray?"
"Mercier, sir - unknown to me, he has no reputation. Appointed from the Ministry in Paris, I believe, so on shore for the past three to five years, that being the typical length of such a posting. Certain to be politically sound, sir - probably one of this First Consul's supporters."
"A soldier, is he not, this Bonaparte?"
"Yes, sir, one of the best generals the new regime has produced. I know of no naval experience at all, other than the voyage that led to Aboukir Bay. I understand that he has a personal say in the appointment of every senior officer."
It all helped to form a picture of what the French might be expected to do, how the admiral would behave in battle.
"How will the French authorities, their Ministry, react to the loss of some of their ships, Mr Murray?"
"Badly, si
r, particularly of new and powerful frigates such as these. These are ideal ships for the local waters, sir, able to work inshore and yet capable, two or three together, of at least driving off a Turkish two-decker. Losing these will interfere with the political plans of the Ministry."
Caution and probably over-caution was all that could be expected of the French admiral. Aggressiveness might pay a dividend, except that the English were almost always aggressive, the French would have built that into their planning...
"Mr Archbold! Should I fall then you must continue the action. If needs be, press to close quarters and fight at hand to hand until either the Trident is taken or you damage the French so much that they must withdraw to protect themselves, for it seems that they must avoid further loss if at all possible."
"Mr Nias, can we hold our course through the passage?"
Nias shook his head, looked up from his chart.
"We must make at least one tack, sir, and if the wind continues to veer then it will be two, and that will close the range most undesirably."
"Then we must stretch things out, Mr Nias - let them chase us and perhaps hold them off till the dark hours. Much may happen in the night, after all."
Nias could not imagine what, but was willing to postpone his probable death for a few more hours.
Two hours of precise sailing, carrying everything they could set on the fore; course and topsail to the mainmast; driver and nothing else at all at the mizzen.
"Unbalanced, sir, and she does not like it."
Frederick had watched without comment as Nias had put two more men to the wheel.
"When it comes to tacking, sir, then we must reduce sail on the fore. She will dig her bows in otherwise."
"Make it so, Mr Nias. We dare not risk failure."
Other sailors, men of the quality of poor, murdered Captain Cook, might have taken the risk, confident in their own outstanding skill. Frederick knew he could not and would not place such a burden upon Nias.
"Entering the three mile limit, sir."
Nias looked up from his sextant and his precise measurement.
"Mr Fox! Do you know what a shore battery looks like?"
"Big guns, sir?"
"That will be near enough, Mr Fox. Take a glass to the masthead, as high as you can go, and scan the shore, seeking any emplacements, batteries or forts that could fire upon us. Inform me of any national flag you may see."
"Turkish, sir?"
"No! Irish, you bloody idiot!"
Archbold jerked his head, pointed the puzzled midshipman to the mainmast shrouds, raised a threatening boot as he hesitated.
"Even the brightest can be slow on the uptake occasionally, sir."
Frederick scowled.
"Does the chart show any fortification along this coast, Mr Nias?"
"None, sir. The Barbary pirates are no threat, as goes without saying, and the Knights of Malta have been inactive these many years. I doubt there has been any reason for a garrison along this coast for the better part of a century, sir. The nearest naval port is Heraklion and that is not less than six hours for a frigate, sir. A day on horseback, for the Turk has no semaphore, to raise an alarm."
The Admiralty stated that all ships must display respect for neutrals and must never break the Rules of War as regarded conduct inside territorial waters. In the absence of witnesses it was clear that Trident was still on the high seas.
"Mr Fox! Inform me of any fishing boats you see."
"What do we know of the depth of waters along this coast, Mr Nias?"
"Very little, sir - the Admiralty Pilot warns that volcanic activity can occur in the Eastern Mediterranean and that shoals may be thrown up without prior indication."
"Annoying. We must soon make our first tack, Mr Nias. How far distant are the Frogs?"
"Six miles, sir, and closing at a little more than three knots. The tack will give them at least another mile."
"Two and a half hours till sunset. Cloud cover to the west, which is unsurprising with this wind."
"Heavy cloud before the end of the first watch, sir."
"Less than half moon. Was I the Frog admiral then I would despatch two of the sloops into the channel to watch out for us in the night. Perhaps he expects us to fight to the last, to scorn running."
"That has been the habit of the Navy, sir."
"And not one that I care to break, except that if we run we might be able to encourage the fastest of them to catch us separately from its consorts."
"They are holding well together, sir."
"Discourteous of them."
They closed the shore rapidly, the cliffs taking a more northerly trend, running out towards them.
"Tack the ship, Mr Nias!"
Every seaman was waiting, alert - ready at the sheets, poised to run aloft.
"Mr Cheek!"
The boatswain called to his party still working on the rigging to the maintopmast.
"Ready, sir!"
Swiftly, with hardly a check to her speed, Trident crossed the wind, turned her head to the north-west.
"Hold this tack till the last possible moment, Mr Nias. Let them wonder if we are not on course for the Seven Islands."
It would give Backham an extra hour or two to lose himself if the sloops were sent north first.
"French are tacking, sir. In line, still. The third of them is a fraction unhandy, I would say, sir, lagging a mite. Opened a gap of at least an extra cable. At this range it is impossible to be certain, sir, but I would say she has taken damage aloft."
"That might explain the speed of the French squadron, Mr Nias. I had expected them to have at least another knot in hand on Trident, but if they are holding to the rate achieved by their slowest all would be clear."
Ninety minutes dragged past, the French closing steadily, a bare mile off the starboard beam, the gunners pointing their cannon, adjusting them as the angle changed.
"Admiral is signalling, sir. Hoist coming down, executive, sir. All setting stun'sls, sir."
"An extra knot as they close. Very sensible. A point further off the wind, Mr Nias, if you please, open our broadside."
It hardly seemed necessary, but Nias obeyed, as he must.
"Be ready to fall off even further, Mr Nias. If the opportunity arises I would wish to break their line. Firing both sides we could entertain them for a few minutes to our advantage."
"They would take the opportunity to cluster about us, sir."
"Disable one and that might not be so easily done, especially if they strip to fighting sail - which we shall not, sir."
"A vast risk of fire, sir."
"Start pouring buckets of seawater onto the courses and driver, Mr Nias."
Nias obeyed, unhappily. They had had too recent an example of all that happened when a ship caught fire.
"The French lieutenant to me, please, Mr Murray."
Frederick briefly explained to the young man that he intended to withdraw his parole and place him and his men in the hold for the duration of the action. If they were released by their own people then they would face no problems - but if they were discovered to be at liberty on deck then there could be some very pertinent questions.
The lieutenant expressed his thanks - senior officers could display very little understanding on occasion. He requested, however, that he should be permitted to hold his men by the sick berth rather than deep in the hold. They could assist with the wounded quite legitimately.
"I would not fancy being locked away in the bowels of a ship facing these odds, sir."
"No more would I. Let it be so, Mr Murray. How do you propose to occupy yourself during the action, sir?"
"A musket and a place in the bows, sir."
"Better perhaps if you were to join my sharpshooters in the tops, sir. With your eye you could pick out useful targets for them."
Murray climbed to his station, aware that he was wholly useless in these circumstances and sure that he was being sent out of the way and to a place of relative safety. It
was almost humiliating, he reflected.
The French reached a distance of five cables, still holding their line. The leading frigate opened fire with her chasers.
"Long twelves, I estimate, sir."
"They will do little harm at that range, Mr Archbold. Twenty-fours will be more useful. Ninety minutes till dusk?"
"Fractionally more, sir."
Frederick waited for another discharge, called to the broadside gunners.
"Point your guns!"
He waited a few seconds, judging the roll.
"On the uproll... Shoot!"
He watched the result, trying to count splashes and watching for actual hits, far less easy to see.
"Six unders, Mr Nias, and one over; two off for line. Nine aboard her, I think."
"Very pretty practice, sir. Well grouped together also, mostly just forward of the mainmast."
Every gun-captain had his hand raised: reloaded, run out and pointed.
"Shoot!"
"Ease her, Mr Nias, close the range."
A third broadside, again obviously hitting hard. Running directly into a lesser foe had been effective at the beginning of this war, especially against French ships manned by newly made and inexperienced officers, promoted by the guillotine. Few of the professional seamen of the Old Regime had survived to fight their ships and it had become accepted tactically that a headlong rush into action won battles. The French admiral had learned from the English example, but he had not observed that times had changed, that presenting one's bows to the broadside of a hard-hitting gunnery ship was not so clever an idea.
"Carronades, ready!"
Seven visible hands rose and a boy ran to the eighth, out of sight in the cabin.
The carronades were loaded grape, would be at extreme range on their first discharge, but would do some good even so. They would fire independently after the first command.
The full broadside fired as the Frenchman began her turn to run parallel to Trident.
Fortune And Glory (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 5) Page 11
