Ramage And The Rebels r-9

by Dudley Pope

  He hurried below with the slate on which he had noted the bearings and was back again within four or five minutes to tell Ramage: "The smoke is coming from somewhere about half - way between the villages of Soto and a place called Sint Willebrordus. About eleven miles west of Amsterdam. Can it be cane fields burning?'

  There's no sugar cane on this island. And cane doesn't burn with a popping like muskets. It can only be houses.'

  'Deck there! Foremasthead lookout!'

  Startled, Ramage, Aitken and Southwick looked forward. The voice, almost disembodied, sounded excited, and Aitken answered: 'Deck here.'

  'Sail on the larboard bow, sir, and I think I can see land beyond it. Might be a cloud but the bearing stays the same.'

  'What type of ship?'

  'Can't tell, sir; she's still hull down below the horizon, but I think she's steering towards us.'

  Aitken looked round for Jackson, handed him the telescope and pointed aloft. Without a word the American made for the shrouds and began climbing the foremast Ramage said: 'It can't be land, but he may have seen a cloud hanging over Aruba.'

  "What ship is it?' Southwick muttered to himself. 'Probably a cutter from Jamaica with fresh orders from the Admiral. Convoy work, more than likely . ..'

  'Beat to quarters,' Ramage told Aitken.

  Jackson hailed the deck the moment the drummer stopped beating the ruffles.

  'Her hull is only just lifting above the horizon but from the cut of her sails she's a merchant ship. Could be American, sir.'

  'Make a signal to Lacey,' Ramage said. 'His lookouts are By the time the signal flags had been hoisted, acknowledged by La Creole and lowered again, Jackson was reporting from the foremasthead that the ship had just tacked, and was obviously bound for Curacao. Aitken had just reported that the Calypso was at quarters when Jackson hailed once more to report that the strange sail was a merchant ship and almost certainly American.

  American, and therefore wary of one of the King's ships, because a meeting at sea usually resulted in being boarded and having a Royal Navy officer checking through the ship's company for British subjects, who would be pressed immediately. Ramage pictured the American master groaning at the prospect of losing at least a couple of good seamen from a total of perhaps a dozen. On the other hand, masters of neutral ships were often good sources of information: they visited enemy ports, saw ships of war, and, because they were not taken as prizes, could talk about it afterwards. And the best way of making a master talk was to catch him in the moments of relief after he discovered that none of his men was going to be pressed ... '

  The Calypso and the merchant ship were approaching each other fast; within minutes Ramage could see the American's hull above the horizon. Have the guns run out,' he said to Aitken, 'we want to look fierce. Then come below. I have more orders for you.'

  Down in his cabin he explained his intentions. The master of that Jonathan is going to curse as soon as he sees the British flag - hell have identified us as a French - built frigate, and to him there'd be nothing out of the ordinary in a French frigate beading west after apparently sailing from Amsterdam. Then suddenly hell realize his mistake.

  'So you'll board him and examine his papers. He could have sailed from a port on the Main, Aruba or direct from somewhere in North America. If he has just left an enemy port, I want to know what ships he saw there and what ships he's seen at sea, especially privateers. Dates, positions, courses being steered . . .'

  Aitken looked worried. These Jonathans usually don't care to help us much, sir,' he said cautiously.

  'No,' Ramage agreed, 'because they've usually just had some of their prize seamen claimed as British and sent down into the boat. But you will make it clear that, providing he co-operates, you will not even ask to see the muster book ...'

  'And hell be so relieved . . .'

  'Exactly,' Ramage said, 'but of course, if he is truculent, you know what to do.'

  Aitken nodded. 'I hope I find a few Scotsmen; we're outnumbered in the Calypso, sir.'

  'I want quality, not quantity, Mr Aitken,' Ramage said ambiguously, laughing dryly.

  'Aye, sir. I've heard say that the Admiralty tell commanders - in - chief that when they ask for more frigates.'

  'I'm sure they do,' Ramage said, 'that's why we make sure of having enough by going out and capturing our own.'

  The young Scot gave one of his rare laughs. 'I've never thought of it like that, sir; I wonder how often a frigate and a schooner go out on patrol together manned by the people that captured them?'

  'In a year or two we'll have our own fleet. Well charter it to Their Lordships on a share-of-the-prizes basis!'

  An hour later Ramage and Southwick waited at the quarterdeck rail. The Calypso was hove - to half a mile to windward of the American ship, which was lying with her sails furled, broadside on to the swell waves and rolling violently. Clearly her master did not trust her spars, rigging and sails enough to risk heaving - to. Shipowners often insisted that once in the Tropics/ their master used old sails as an economy. It was not an economy, of course, because tropical squalls were more sudden and vicious than people living in temperate climates realized; but most shipowners were men who cheerfully spent a guinea to save four pennies and congratulated themselves on the bargain.

  The Caroline of Charleston, South Carolina. The moment he had seen the port of registry he had ordered Jackson to join the boarding party, warning Aitken to tell the American seaman what they were trying to discover, and explaining to the puzzled first lieutenant that Jackson had been born in Charleston.

  The Caroline from South Carolina: it sounded like the beginning of some lullaby. If she was bound for Amsterdam (there could be little doubt about that) could he use her in some way, a Trojan horse that would get him among those damned privateers?

  He could seize the ship and, putting his own men on board, send her into Amsterdam under her American flag. With his officers dressed in old clothes, they could pass themselves off as Americans and deal with all the paperwork with the Dutch authorities. They would, of course, anchor near the privateers. And soon after dark they would board them, set them all on fire, and then sail the Caroline of South Carolina out again, trusting that the Dutch would not fire on her, assuming she was getting dear of the flaming ships and never suspecting or guessing she was the cause.

  Ramage shook his head. These were crazy thoughts: the diplomatic rumpus would be enormous; any British officer who used an American ship in this fashion would be court - martialled by the Admiralty and probably jailed; relations between Britain and North America were bad enough already; an incident like that could set off a war. Apart from all that, he thought ruefully, it was an excellent plan.

  'Aitken and Jackson are getting ready to go down the ladder, sir,' Southwick reported. 'Ah, that fellow with the wide - brimmed straw' hat, hell be the master. He's shaking hands with Aitken. And with Jackson, too.'

  Ten minutes later the boat was alongside the Calypso, and the Caroline, letting fall her sails, was getting under way again to continue her tedious series of tacks to get up to Amsterdam. It was unusual to see a square - rigged ship of her size sailing under the American flag: most of the trade in the West Indies was done with schooners. She was at least painted in the traditional dark green, the colour favoured by slave ships because it matched the mangroves which lined the banks of the rivers in the Gulf of Guinea where the slavers hid.

  Aitken hurried over to Ramage, obviously excited, and Jackson, the next man up the side, was grinning broadly. Ramage saw the first lieutenant glancing astern, towards Aruba, and then he was reporting, making an effort to speak clearly.

  'It worked just as you expected, sir: I suspect half his men are British. He says a French frigate anchored off Aruba was due to leave for Curasao a few hours after the Caroline weighed. He half expected her to be in sight by now.'

  'Has he seen any privateers?'

  'No, sir: he commented on it. Normally he sees three or four between the Windw
ard Passage and the Main: they always board him to check his papers. But he did say he has seen more British warships: he wasn't surprised when he. saw us - or so he says. And Jackson was able to have a chat with some of the seamen.'

  Ramage looked at the American. 'Well, did you meet any old friends?'

  Jackson grinned. 'Not old friends, sir, but I knew one of the men; he was sweet on my sister - when they were both about five years old.'

  'What else did you discover?'

  'Quite a bit, sir, but it only confirms what Mr Aitken just said. They - the men in the Caroline - met some of the seamen from the French frigate on shore in Aruba. Said they were an undisciplined crowd; they didn't pay much attention to their officers. Called each other "citizen". And they wouldn't pay the Dutch shopkeepers the prices they asked: they just took what they wanted, paid half what was asked, and drew their swords when a crowd gathered.'

  Even as Jackson talked Ramage was thinking of the small book in the drawer of his desk: the French signal book. He looked at Aitken. 'You did very well with the Caroline.' He turned to Jackson. 'You, too. Now make a signal to La Creole: I want Mr Lacey to come on board at once.'

  An hour later, long after the men had run in the guns and secured' them, put pikes, cutlasses, muskets and pistols back in the arms chests, and swabbed down the decks, Ramage looked round his cabin at the perspiring but eager faces of his officers. He had finished explaining his plan and said to Lacey: 'Have you any questions?' The captain of La Creole had none.

  Aitken, however, was worried about darkness. 'Supposing she comes up from Aruba during the night, sir?'

  Ramage shook his head. 'With no moon and the risk of cloud, would you choose to make a voyage of forty - eight miles at night, the current foul, when you could time it to make your landfall in daylight?'

  'No, sir,' the first lieutenant said apologetically, 'it was a silly question. I'd hope to be about fifteen miles west of the island - west of Westpunt Baai - at dawn. Then if the wind was lighter than I expected I'd be that much later, and there'd be no risk of running ashore in the darkness.'

  'And that's where we will be,' Ramage said. 'Well be close to Westpunt Baai, and with the coast trending south - east towards Amsterdam, Lacey will be able to show how La Creole can pull with the bit between her teeth.'

  He looked round to see if anyone had more questions, and Wagstaffe said: The privateers in Amsterdam, sir: are we leaving them alone?'

  'For the time being, yes, although they won't realize it. Watchers along the coast will be reporting us going westward, but at twilight well turn back towards Amsterdam so that the Dutch lookouts report that we are doubling back.and obviously intend to spend the night off the port - just the sort of trick one would expect. But of course once it's dark well turn back yet again . . .'

  'And hope it is not so dark we run ashore,' Aitken said dryly.

  'Sint Christoffelberg is twelve hundred feet high,' Ramage said. 'We should be able to see it from five miles off, and Lacey here has only to keep an eye on our poop lantern.'

  He stood up and said slowly: 'Remember, gentlemen, that timing is vital. If we see the fish isn't taking the bait, we have to act immediately, otherwise dozens of our men will be killed or wounded unnecessarily.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  By dawn Southwick and a dozen men had about half of the smallest of the Calypso's anchor cables, a ten - inch - circumference rope the thickness of a man's forearm, ranged on the foredeck after being led out through a hawsehole and back on board again, with a light messenger rope made up to the end. All her guns were loaded and run out, the decks had been wetted and sanded, and cutlasses, tomahawks, pistols and muskets had been issued. The Calypso was once again ready to greet the first light of day, the only difference being the cable lying on the fo'c'sle like a sleeping serpent Ramage, walking round the ship, could sense the men's excitement and he stopped here and there in the darkness to warn that they might have to wait two or three days for the Frenchman to appear. The men were delighted that the captain should stop and pass the time of day but were obviously ignoring his warning: they had made up their minds that the French frigate would show up today, that she would be reported in sight to leeward as soon as the lookouts went to the masthead at daybreak and had a good look round. One of the men had given it enough thought to realize that the Frenchman approaching from the west might see the Calypso against the lighter eastern sky and bolt, and he was relieved when Ramage assured him that in fact they would be hidden against the blackness of Sint Christoffelberg and the hills at the western end of Curacao for that first critical fifteen minutes of the day.

  The special lookout posted aft and staring into the Calypso's wake continued to report every ten minutes or so that La Creole was still astern. Although it was a dark night there was plenty of phosphorescence, and every now and again a pale greenish swirl astern showed where the schooner was faithfully following and revealing herself occasionally as her bow sliced into a swell wave.

  From his own experience in the past, Ramage knew that Lacey would have had little sleep, worried that his lookouts forward would lose sight of the Calypso's poop lantern. The young lieutenant, knowing how important it was that he should be only a few hundred yards from the Calypso at first light, was unlikely to have left the quarterdeck: he had probably spent the night in a canvas chair, boat cloak over his shoulders, occasionally dozing and frequently nagging whoever had the watch and interfering as only anxious captains know how. Yes, Ramage thought to himself, I know just how you feel ...

  La Creole had to be close at daybreak, just in case: Ramage had been most emphatic about that. He personally did not think they would see the Frenchman at dawn whichever day she arrived, but there was always a chance that she sailed at the proper time and made a fast passage, which would bring her off Curacao at first light. No gambler would ever bet on a Frenchman being punctual, but the whole success of the operation depended on La Creole: be had made sure that Lacey really understood.

  Ramage looked through a gun port He could just distinguish the toppling waves; they had a grey tinge, and the stars low on the eastern horizon were dimming slightly, Orion's Belt had crossed overhead and dipped, the Southern Cross and the Plough had revolved, Polaris had remained fixed, and the sun would soon be dazzling them all. Yes, Sint Christoffelberg was over there on the starboard beam so high that it was distinguishable as a black wedge pointing upwards and obscuring the stars low on the north - eastern horizon.

  Somewhere in the darkness on deck three men waited, one at each mast, for the order sending the lookouts aloft - it would come from Wagstaffe this morning - and then each would race up the ratlines like a monkey, hoping to be the first to hail the deck that the French frigate was in sight. The competition, mast against mast, was traditional.

  Ramage finished his walk forward along the starboard side and crossed over to make his way back to the quarterdeck along the larboard side. There was very little sea; the Calypso was hardly rolling, giving a gentle pitch from time to time, almost a curtsy, as a swell wave came along the side of the island, part of the movement westward that began off the western comer of Africa, crossed the Atlantic and Caribbean, and finally ended up) thousands of miles away, in the muddy shallows of the Gulf of Mexico.

  Groups of men squatted round their guns. Usually they were half asleep, but this morning they were wide awake, occasional whispers and stifled laughter showing they were cheerful enough. Ramage never understood how men could laugh and joke when, within the hour, they could be dead, shattered by grapeshot or torn apart by roundshot. It was enough that they were cheerful.

  Yet, he realized, they were cheerful because they were confident; they were confident that death would not touch them. And they were confident because - well, because so far, under his command, they had been lucky. All the actions of the last few months, including the original capture of the Calypso and La Creole from the French, had been fought with very few casualties.

  Would there be a great change o
f heart among them if they fought a bloody action? Would they then be less martial?

  He doubted it: most of them seemed like Southwick: as keen for battle as schoolboys for a game of marbles or poachers for fat pheasants. And as his heels thumped the deck and he balanced himself against the ship's roll, he knew he was slowly becoming a better captain. It had taken long enough, but now he had finally absorbed the apparent contradiction that the captain who worried too much about his men being killed in action was likely to kill them by the dozen because he would be too timid. The boldest plan was usually the safest He realized he had never consciously taken a ship into action with that thought uppermost, but looking back on a series of actions, the fact was that he had often escaped with only a dozen killed and wounded when a prudent man with an apparently safer (more cautious) plan might have lost four dozen.

  Was he being arrogant? Perhaps, and if arrogance on his part led to confidence among his men and success to an operation, then perhaps arrogance was no great fault. And of course it was the men's arrogance (that any one of them was worth three Frenchmen) that gave them the boldness which led them to succeed. The casualty lists usually bore them out, and certainly the Admiralty seemed to assume that one of the King's ships with a hundred men should be able to board and capture a French national ship with three hundred.

  'Lookouts there - away aloft!'

  Wagstaffe's shouted order broke into Ramage's thoughts and he realized he had not noticed how much lighter it had become in the last few minutes, minutes when he had just stood at the gun port staring at the wavetops gliding past The men were getting up from the deck where they had been squatting or sitting, groaning as stretched muscles gave them a twinge, teasing each other, some shivering with the dawn chill and swinging their arms, others spitting tobacco juice over the side through the port Ramage climbed the quarterdeck ladder to find Wagstaffe waiting anxiously at the rail, speaking trumpet in one hand and night glass in the other, obviously awaiting the first hail from aloft, while Southwick stood at the binnacle talking to Aitken, who would take over from Wagstaffe if any enemy ships were in sight, leaving the second lieutenant free to go to his division of guns. The Marines were forming up with much stamping and thumping.