"If the fleet is, or has been, in this location then a wise commander of an escort might well bring his charges to an anchor out of sight against the land. Let us see what the two have to say to us."
"Harriet signalling, sir!"
Frederick nodded to his First Lieutenant, waited for Masson to call the message to him; the boy was turning pages in his book again, dropping his telescope as he fumbled.
"Can you see the flags, Mr Gentry?"
"Enemy in sight, sir. The enemy is Spanish. The enemy is a frigate... is a sloop... is a sloop Numeral Two, sir. The enemy is merchant ships, Numeral Ten, more."
A Spanish convoy of more than ten vessels escorted by a frigate and a pair of sloops.
"Acknowledge, Mr Masson!"
The Yeoman of the Signals hoisted the flag which he had bent on ready.
"From Harriet, sir. The enemy is at anchor. Bearing ESE at eight miles."
"Thank you, Mr Gentry. Mr Masson, report to the boatswain and inform him that your knowledge of the signal flags needs to be improved, twelve times over!"
The boatswain led Masson to the aftermost gun, swishing his rattan cane the while. The three new midshipmen watched in open-mouthed horror; Watson, who could see the opportunity to shine, grinned. Frederick turned to the boys.
"Mistakes may almost always be forgiven, gentlemen. Laziness is not a mistake!"
The boatswain made the point that laziness would not be forgiven, except painfully.
"Harriet and Bluenose; captains to repair on board the Flag."
Frederick was no longer a commodore but he was senior captain.
"Where exactly is this convoy to be found, Mr Porter?"
Porter pointed to the chart, showed almost the largest of the coves.
"Cliff on either side, sir, to almost two hundred feet, at a guess, and the inlet at least three cables, though how much of that is deep water is unclear, sir. Two cables in breadth, sir. Ten at least of merchantmen, several of them of two and three masts, sir, but low. Polaccas and xebecs perhaps, sir, but a pair of square-rigged, brigs or snows; Atlantic rig, sir."
"Well spotted, Mr Porter. Bound for Cadiz, perhaps, with naval stores. Possibly to voyage across the Atlantic. Important to deny the Spanish navy their contents."
"Yes, sir. The escort is anchored to the seaward of the convoy, sir. A thirty-six gun frigate but I could not see what she was carrying, sir. Two sloops, one of eighteen, the other smaller, probably twelve."
"Very good. Is it possible that either of the square-riggers could be naval?"
"Very slack if they was, sir. Sails furled any old how."
"Well seen. Mr Dench, have you further observations?"
"There might be a reef extending out to sea from the starboard headland, sir. I picked up white water for perhaps a cable out from the shore, sir."
"What says the chart, Mr Calver?"
"Not sufficient, sir, not to be certain, but the lie of the land makes a reef not at all impossible, sir."
"Then we shall assume it to be so, gentlemen. Is there a fort or battery to be seen?"
"No, sir," said Porter.
"There was a dozen of small fires on the larboard headland, sir," Dench demurred. "A battery of field guns would not be impossible or even an earthworks."
"Shepherds, sir, cooking their food." Porter was dismissive of the junior man's suggestion.
"Let us see what we have, gentlemen. I am rather of the opinion that we must make a try at this convoy, and I am sure that you would quite like to sail a sloop apiece into Gibraltar, and I know full well that Mr Gentry would love to pace the quarterdeck of a Spanish frigate."
All three applauded the suggestion.
"We do not want the convoy to be run aground, and it would be annoying if we were to fire broadsides at the frigate and to hit the merchantmen as well. We wish to cut out the convoy but certainly do not have the manpower simply to overwhelm the frigate and both sloops from our boats. Let us therefore bend our minds to the solution of the problem. Waiting for the convoy to sail is not an answer that appeals to me. So, what is to be done?"
The junior officers assumed the question to be rhetorical and said nothing.
"Could you see any paths on the headlands? Would it be possible to set a party ashore to climb to the top?"
Neither man could give an answer.
"So! I think it necessary to know that. Mr Dench, you will proceed to the south of the larboard headland, as close to shore as may be necessary and discover what may be seen. If there is a battery of field guns then there must be a way by which they have reached their current emplacement. Do not go ashore, but endeavour to locate a route, if you would be so good. Now, please."
They watched his boat take him to his little schooner and then saw him making all sail and pointing almost impossibly high into the wind to make his return to the shore.
"Euripides is weatherly, sir, but he is at least two points closer than we could dream of."
"Three for Harriet, sir."
"Have you ever practised with that twelve pound mortar your previous captain set on your quarterdeck, Mr Porter?"
"No, sir, for having very few shells for it, sir. My gunner has played with it, using wooden shells he carved to size and weighted with scrap, just for amusement, he said. He has told me he thinks he could 'drop a shell on a sixpence'."
"Ask him if it would be possible to anchor beyond the reef at the starboard point and annoy the frigate from off her bows, where she could not respond. At dawn, just at first nautical twilight say, giving us light for all we wish to do."
Porter signalled for his gunner to come aboard Euripides, explained the question to him.
"One over, one under - or t'other way round, of course, like - and the third to drop plumb aboard 'er. Twenty minutes, sir, and I can put six bombs on 'er deck, sir. Only twelve pounders, sir, but I reckon they could do 'er a bit of no good, especial like if I gets lucky with a ready-use cartridge or tangles one up in the mast'eads maybe and sets a fire up in the rigging."
"Good. One rocket to open fire, a second to cease, sir. That is if Mr Dench can discover a road for us and all becomes possible. We will not attack under fire from a battery. All boats to tow, Mr Gentry."
Frederick turned to the Captain of the Marines, waiting hopefully nearby, close to the quarterdeck party, but not quite so near that he might be thought to be eavesdropping.
"Captain Thomas, your men to be made into three separate parties; your lieutenant and twenty four to board Bluenose and be taken ashore, if she finds our road. To take the guns at first light, sir."
"Aye aye, sir."
"The remaining two parties to first and second cutter and to take the two sloops at the same moment. There will be seamen to assist."
Captain Thomas was sure they could do the job.
"Euripides will fire a single red rocket to give the signal to all three parties to act."
Thomas agreed that would be the easiest way of coordinating the attacks.
"Mr Calver, you will have the sailing of Euripides and will bring her as close inshore as may be - using the lead, it goes without saying. Mr Blenkinsop, you must stay aboard, with the guns, and you are to use your discretion, sir. If the frigate is in the way of overwhelming the boats then you will fire broadsides into her. If possible, you will not. An extremely difficult task, sir, and one that will demand the judgement I know you to possess."
Blenkinsop would far rather have gone in the boats.
"I will take my barge. Mr Gentry, Mr Doolan, Mr Iliffe, a boat apiece. Mr Gentry, you will join me in attempting the frigate by the bows; Mr Doolan, your boat to the stern of the frigate. Mr Iliffe, you will take the merchantmen in hand, sir. No nonsense from any of them. Name your own men, but do leave a sufficiency to work the ship and a broadside."
The junior lieutenants saluted and trotted off to name their parties and squabble over who should be left aboard under the boatswain.
"Purser to the quarterdeck, please."
&
nbsp; The purser arrived, looking anxious.
"Hot cocoa, biscuit and cheese for the change of the first night watch, sir. The men all to have a little something to put some life into them."
The purser nodded and smiled and begged to make a suggestion.
"There is time, just, sir, to boil up pease pudding for the men, instead of that hard old cheese, sir. To be exact, sir, it will be a bit lentilish, you might say, for being able to lay hands on a few pounds of such and some of they chick-peas what the Greeks do eat so much of, while we was in Malta, but 'twill make a good solid bite to put in their bellies, sir. Though, to be sure, those old chick-peas do come back on the men something chronic, sir, being as 'ow you knows about them on the mess decks for a day or two after when they lies down to sleep in their 'micks, sir."
"I am sure we can survive the gaseous emissions, sir, and the men will welcome the treat."
The purser scurried off to the galley and Frederick began to wonder what it was about the cheese. Had the purser found people with a strange, and probably perverse, liking for ration cheese and sold off much of his stores?
Bluenose returned an hour before dusk, reporting success.
"A good and dry track, sir, close to a sandy beach, just two miles away from the headland, sir. An hour of quiet marching, even in the dark, sir."
"Very good. You will take aboard the party that Captain Thomas will nominate and you will lead them ashore and lay up in ambush to take the headland and any guns upon it when, and not a second before, a rocket is fired from Euripides. You may expect the signal at dawn. You will have the command, of course. If there are guns then you will have discretion over their use, Mr Dench. You might wish to fire a warning shot at any merchantman who decides to be foolish, for example. Do endeavour not to kill any of us, sir! Take match with you so that you may overload the guns and split their barrels as you withdraw. Keep a watch for soldiers coming from inland; if needs be turn the guns on any such. Pull your men out when it seems wise to you. Take a pair of flags and a signalman to semaphore Euripides at need."
"Aye aye, sir."
"On completion of your task you will bring Bluenose to join the remainder of the squadron, readying yourself to take command of any other vessel. You have a junior who can take your place as far as Gibraltar, I trust?"
"A very good master's mate, sir. A man who might well be given his commission, sir."
"Possibly - that will be for another time. My clerk will give you a written order. If I should fall then it becomes much easier to explain yourself to the admiral if you have a paper to hand over."
"Bosomtwi - you, Kavanagh, Marc and Jean to accompany me in the boat. Barge crew and what, eight other men as well?"
"Seven, sir. Olsen, he's got the right, isn't it."
"He is still a boy... very well, he would be hurt to be left behind, would think he was not man enough to serve me. See to it, please."
Frederick swore to himself; if Olsen was to go then so must the three young midshipmen, each in the boat he was learning to sail. They could not be protected; it was part of the service.
Thinking of the boys, neither Fox nor McGregor's ships had been in Malta while he was in port; a pity, he would have liked to chat with the pair, they were still his followers; and he would wish to catch up with his onetime premier, Captain Backham. Next time, perhaps.
They fed the men - the pease pudding declared to be foreign but tasty for all that, and very welcome as an extra - and eased Euripides inshore, silently making the necessary pair of tacks. Two miles out, at an estimate, and the boats were loaded and sent away, one after another, Frederick leading and showing a shielded lantern over the counter of the barge.
"Row small, lads! No splashing!"
The moon was set and they had to feel their way slowly, watching for the reef, feeling the set of the swell underneath them.
They laid on their oars two cables away from the frigate, hopefully out of sight to wait the minutes till dawn and the rocket.
Far too early, there was a musket shot, then a volley and quieter pistol shots from the headland, surprise lost.
Calver on Euripides used his commonsense and fired the rocket. The mortar on Harriet gave its little thump and a first shell landed a fraction over, barely thirty feet from the frigate, the light of its explosion giving the gunner the range.
"Stretch out!"
Frederick stood and roared, promising himself to break Dench unless he had a very good answer.
The party from Bluenose had landed from its two boats, wildly overcrowded, crawling into the beach with bare inches of freeboard. The Marines had stumbled through the soft sand in their heavy boots, the sailors running barefoot and laughing. They reached the roadway, its ruts mended with broken stone, sharp on the feet; the Marines smirked.
Dench led them off up the road, stopped in seconds.
"Not to march, if you please, Lieutenant Twynham! The cadence is rather noisy, sir!"
The Marines were well-trained and found it very difficult to break step, to just walk in the way that idle civilians did.
Dench sent two of his topmen ahead to spy out the land, thinking that younger and agile men were best for the job. They came back to say that there was a battery of siege cannon, army because they had big wheels for moving on land, but at least eighteen pound guns. There were six of them.
"Forty-eight gunners, at least. Cooks and their hands. Probably some infantry to stand guard as well. Two dozen of your Marines and twelve of my sailors, Lieutenant Twynham. Rather nasty odds!"
"A volley and a charge out of the night, sir. That should compensate for the numbers."
They set themselves close to the battery, muskets primed and ready, watched in dismay as the cooks stirred early in the darkness and got their fire together for breakfast; inevitably one of them needed to ease his bladder and wandered into the edge of the bushes around the site.
The cook dropped with a boarding axe in his head.
"The bugger were pissin' on I, sir!"
There was just enough noise to alert a sentry who fired well wide of the actual location but caused sleeping men to scramble out of their blankets in the area of trampled bushes and grass behind the guns.
"Shoot!"
The muskets fired and half-asleep men screeched, fell and ran.
"Charge!"
The Marines went in with their bayonets while the sailors padded behind with their Sea Service pistols and cutlasses.
The most of the Spanish gun crews ran down the track, having been on the headland long enough to know its geography. A few panicked and galloped over the edge of the cliff. A dozen or so lay on the ground, dead or wounded. Twenty or more stood with their hands up.
Dench called a few orders, mostly to show that he was there and in command, but the Marine sergeant and his own two petty officers tidied up quickly and quietly.
"Lieutenant Twynham, please to put the Marines across the track against the gun crews returning or raising an alarm."
The sun crawled into the sky and made the task easier. The track took a bend as it came onto the flat of the headland and it was simple to place a double rank of Marines in cover above it. The seamen shifted two of the big cannon to point directly downhill. They could not emplace them properly but they double-shotted them with grape and were fairly satisfied that they would slow any attacker who had just run up the slope towards them.
"French guns, sir, old as well. Louis Quinze, sir - that was the Fifteenth, was it not?"
Dench agreed that it was, surprised that a Marine could display such erudition.
"Sir, they's a path down to the shore, sir."
Dench leant out over the cliff edge, saw a made track winding down through the rock and bushes; presumably the garrison had been there long enough to go fishing.
"Has Sir Frederick been successful?"
Three mortar shells in succession landed in the frigate's waist, exploding in the middle of the crew running to their guns and causing screaming havoc. T
he shells were light and their casings contained only a few pounds of fragments of cast-iron, insufficient to kill more than one or two unfortunates but enough to sting and abrade many. Men fell, but most simply ran below to take cover from the unknown weapon.
"Fire the second rocket. Board her."
Frederick cheered and climbed the side, waving his sword on the empty forecastle; none of the crew changed their minds - they had given up on this fight.
The Spanish captain, who had delayed to put on his uniform, it being ineligible to fight in shirtsleeves, reached his quarterdeck only to be cut down by the rush of Doolan's boarders. A half-dressed lieutenant, less constrained by convention, possibly not so highly-born, came running up on deck and shouted the surrender in time for a slashing cutlass to be pulled aside. Fighting stopped.
"Marines to guard the hatches. Bosomtwi, run up the Union Flag!"
The captains of the sloops saw the flag and then observed Euripides swinging her broadside to bear at the mouth of the cove. They followed their senior's example and raised their hands, reflecting that they were no more than obeying his implicit order - if the frigate captain had surrendered then they must follow his example.
The convoy made no resistance. They knew that the Navy would not harm prisoners and that they would soon be sent home - many of them having been taken in the previous war when the English cruisers had rampaged along the Mediterranean coasts.
"Mr Dench semaphoring, sir."
"Acknowledge him."
"Aye aye, sir. He says he has taken the guns and is about to blow them, sir. He will come down to the headland by the track here, sir. Please to pick him up."
"I am tempted to bloody well leave him to swim! Acknowledge. Order Mr Dench to release his prisoners on parole and have them to take the wounded to a place of safety. Signal Harriet to repeat to Bluenose to rejoin."
Frederick surveyed the inlet, nodding his satisfaction.
Every one of the merchantmen was flying a white banner. A number of bedsheets had been brought into use at a glance; some were distinctly yellow in tinge.
A Busy Season (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 8) Page 6
