Ramage and the Dido

by Dudley Pope

  ‘There’s a big “but”,’ Jackson said. ‘The bigger our ship, the fewer the casualties. And we could never have cut out the Alerte so successfully with the Calypso – we wouldn’t have had enough men. We cut out the Alerte so easily because we had enough men to swamp ‘em. If we’d been in the Calypso we’d have had only half that number of men. And we may not have carried her. Don’t forget that. There’s an advantage in being in a ship of the line.’

  ‘More deck to scrub and more brass to polish,’ Stafford said sourly. ‘That’s the only difference.’

  ‘And you’re alive to grumble about it,’ said Jackson.

  ‘The way you chaps keep nagging at me, I sometimes fink life’s not worth living,’ Stafford said, far from mollified.

  ‘You forget we have three frigates and one ship of the line within a month, and we’re still alive to collect our prize money,’ Rossi said. ‘So cheer up, Staff; you’ll have us all in tears in a minute!’

  ‘All right, all right; call me ‘Appy Staff and I’ll sit here making funny faces for you all.’

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t get sent to Barbados as prize crew in the Alerte,’ Jackson said. ‘You never know when you’re going to get back to your ship.’

  ‘But they sent the brig this time,’ Gilbert pointed out.

  ‘Yes, and if there’s another ship short of men lying in Barbados they’ll talk the admiral into transferring you,’ Jackson said darkly. ‘Prize crews are anyone’s men, mark my words.’

  ‘Well, we’ve all been lucky – three frigates needing prize crews, and none of us picked,’ Stafford commented.

  ‘I reckon we can thank Mr Ramage for that,’ Jackson said. ‘He knows what I’ve just been saying. We’ll never see those fellows sent off in the first frigate again: someone will snatch them at Plymouth. That’s why Mr Ramage sent the brig to Barbados: he’s getting worried about the number of men he’s losing.’

  ‘When do you expect to see the Scourge back, sir?’ Aitken asked.

  ‘Under a week,’ Ramage said. ‘Give her a couple of days to get there – the winds have been light. And a day at the outside for the Scourge to put the prize crew back on board and sail. Give her a day or two to get back here and that’s your week.’

  ‘I’ll be glad to get those lads back. Rennick is sure someone in Barbados will steal his marines.’

  ‘Not this time, I think. We’re in good odour with Admiral Cameron or should be, anyway – and I think he will make sure we get our men back. It’s pretty obvious why I sent the Scourge – to bring all our men back.’

  ‘I hope you’re right sir,’ Aitken said. ‘I hate losing a single man.’

  ‘I think the Barbados ships are well manned: they probably send out pressgangs as soon as a convoy comes in from England.’

  ‘One can’t help feeling sorry for the men in the merchant ships,’ Aitken said. ‘Just imagine – arriving in the Chops of the Channel after a year out here and looking forward to seeing your wife and children, when one of our pressgangs comes alongside and whisks you off, to serve in one of the King’s ships until this war is over.’

  ‘I don’t know anyone who likes the pressgang system, but how else are we to man the ships? With no men for the King’s ships, who is to defend the merchant ships? And without the merchant ships we’d be in the sort of state Martinique is in – worse, in fact.’

  Aitken shrugged his shoulders. ‘One thing about it, the pressgang certainly produces an odd mixture of men!’

  ‘Yes, the oddest sort seem to turn into prime seamen, whether volunteers or pressed men. It doesn’t seem to matter whether the man was a footpad or a footman; he’s likely to make a good topman, as long as he’s sound in wind and limb.’

  ‘By the way, sir, what do you intend for the men this afternoon?’

  ‘Gunnery exercises,’ Ramage said emphatically. ‘Keep them at it: don’t forget that it won’t be long before we’re tackling that seventy-four over there, and the one that wins is the one who fires fastest and most accurately: and I want to encourage Higgins, who is proving an excellent gunner.’

  ‘We’re short of Kenton and Orsini; I’ll have to replace them with a couple of older midshipmen.’

  ‘Very well: it’ll give them some experience.’

  Ramage picked up his telescope and walked to the ship’s side, examining Fort Royal and the seventy-four in the Carénage.

  ‘I wish I knew why she had her yards sent down. Have they found some rot in them, or are they changing some running rigging?’

  ‘Judging from the condition of the Alerte,’ Aitken said, ‘it could be both. I’ve seldom seen so much stretched rigging and bare wood. They must be getting desperately short of all sorts of stores. But sending the yards down doesn’t make it seem they expect a convoy within the next few days.’

  ‘I wonder what the Achille does when a convoy is due. Does she sail and meet the convoy a few hundred miles out in the Atlantic? Or wait ten miles or so offshore and just escort the convoy in for the last part? Or does she wait off Cabrit Island, at the south end of Martinique? It’s hard to know – the convoy could be a couple of weeks late: perhaps more.’

  ‘Do you propose to sail out and wait, if he shows signs of getting ready for sea?’

  ‘No – we’ll follow him and wait. He and the convoy are bound to meet somewhere and sometime, and that’s where we’ll tackle him, I think.’

  ‘It all sounds rather hit or miss, as far as the French are concerned.’

  ‘They don’t have much choice,’ Ramage said. ‘That’s the trouble with being blockaded. From the French point of view the blockade isn’t – or wasn’t, before we arrived – being imposed here. Oh no, it is our cruisers off the coast of France that are making it dangerous for that convoy. It has got to escape them to get here, and it might well accidentally meet one of our ships of the line which just happens to be on passage. And now Admiral Cameron has the ship of the line he wanted – us, in other words – he can impose a close blockade of the island.’

  ‘Well, we made a good start by taking the Alerte!’

  ‘Yes, but we mustn’t let the Achille slip through our fingers. The French may have another ship of the line escorting the convoy. So we might find we have to tackle two ships of the line before we can get at the merchantmen.’

  ‘It doesn’t give the Achille much time to get under way, unless she has a rendezvous at a certain date.’

  ‘Perhaps the convoy will send a frigate ahead, to warn the Achille to sail and meet them,’ Ramage said. ‘That’s quite likely.’

  Aitken grinned cheerfully and said: ‘That might give us yet another frigate to snap up!’

  ‘Certainly I doubt if she’ll expect to find a British seventy-four waiting for her. I think we have had just a frigate or a brig keeping an eye on Fort Royal for a long time. I had the impression from Admiral Cameron that he couldn’t spare a seventy-four, until we arrived.’

  ‘I get the impression, sir,’ Aitken said, ‘that we have not been taking the blockade of Martinique very seriously.’

  Ramage nodded. ‘I think you’re right; but put yourself in the admiral’s place. You’re very short of all types of ships, and you know a convoy rarely comes to Martinique. Are you going to keep a ship of the line off Fort Royal – if you have a spare one – or are you just going to keep an eye on the place using a frigate or a brig?’

  Aitken thought for a few moments and then said: ‘One forgets he has responsibility for Trinidad, Grenada, St Vincent and St Lucia, quite apart from the Main coast and Martinique.’

  ‘Yes. He’s lucky that Guadeloupe comes under the Leeward Islands station, otherwise he’d be even more hard pressed.’

  ‘We seem to be sympathising with admirals,’ Aitken said ruefully. ‘It must be because we’re in a ship of the line now, not a frigate!’

  ‘It’s probably old age,’ Ramage said. ‘We’re getting on in years and we’re growing benevolent.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Scourge
came in sight just seven days after leaving for Barbados, and in reply to the signal for her captain, Lieutenant Bennett arrived on board the Dido just as the men were being piped to dinner.

  He brought a letter from Admiral Cameron congratulating Ramage on the capture of the two frigates, and Bennett told him what had happened to the mangoes. It turned out that Cameron had served in India and knew the fruit well, and thought it a good idea to try to plant them in the West Indies. He was therefore planting half the trees in Barbados and sending the other half to Jamaica.

  More important, as far as Ramage was concerned, the Scourge had brought back every man who had formed the prize crews for the Alerte and the Volage. As soon as Bennett told him this, Ramage gave instructions to Aitken to send the Dido’s boats to collect them.

  Ramage then gave Bennett his orders: he was to resume his patrol off Fort Royal, and the Dido would move further south, to cruise off Diamond Rock. If the Scourge saw any sign that the Achille was preparing to sail she should make the signal to the Dido, which would immediately move north to see what was happening. If, on the other hand, the Dido sighted a convoy coming round the south end of Martinique she would engage immediately.

  Bennett had just left to rejoin the Scourge when Kenton and Orsini arrived back on board the Dido, both excited at being back.

  ‘What sort of trip did you have in the Alerte?’ Ramage asked.

  ‘Fine, sir: she’s a fast ship. Very like the Calypso. Her bottom was very foul, so she didn’t go to windward too well.’

  ‘Did you see Admiral Cameron?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I gave him your despatch. He was delighted. He remembered that he had complained to you about the shortage of frigates, and made some joke about appreciating that you had listened to what he had said. He was very friendly, sir. And he knows about mangoes.’

  ‘Yes, Bennett told me. Well, if the trees take well, perhaps we can sample the fruit the next time we go to Barbados.’

  ‘We’ll have to be out here for a long time, sir; I don’t think those trees will fruit for two or three years.’

  ‘A pity, mangoes are beginning to intrigue me. I hope they’ll make a welcome change from pawpaw and oranges!’

  ‘I’d give anything for a good apple,’ Kenton said. ‘You can’t get your teeth into any of these West Indian fruits, they’re far too soft.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a pity apples and pears don’t grow out here. I’ve never understood why olives don’t thrive, either: they grow in the hottest and driest spots in the Mediterranean, so I don’t see why they don’t grow here. After all, the Spaniards brought the orange here from Seville, and the banana from the Canary Islands. Who’d have thought they’d flourish in this climate?’

  ‘By the way, sir,’ Kenton said, ‘the admiral is going to plant a couple of mangoes in his garden. He says he won’t gain much by it but his successors will be grateful – providing the mango likes the West Indies!’

  Shortly after dawn four days later Ramage was walking up and down the quarterdeck, soon after the lookouts had been sent aloft, when there was a hail. The Scourge was steering down towards them from the north, the lookout reported.

  ‘What the devil does he want?’ Kenton muttered, talking to himself.

  The Dido was two miles to the westwards of Diamond Rock and the brig was off Cap Salomon, about four miles away, when she was sighted coming clear of the land.

  Did Bennett have something special to report? Ramage wondered. That seemed the only explanation of why she would leave her cruising station, unless they were short of water, and wanted some casks from the Dido.

  ‘We’ll steer up to meet her,’ Ramage told Kenton. The wind was light, from the east, the sea was calm, and it looked as if it was going to be a typical hazy July day, punctuated by showers and weak sunshine. July was almost always a rather depressing month, starting off the hurricane season. It was unusual to have fully fledged hurricanes this early; instead, at three- or four-day intervals, there were these days of plain dull weather, sometimes with a brisk wind but always the dull cloud scudding through from the east. It would be different in August and September, when this sort of weather could quickly turn into a hurricane, or at least a storm, and a ship had to find shelter or make an offing, well clear of land, where she could ride out the hurricane.

  In less than half an hour the Dido and the Scourge were lying hove to within a cable of each other and Ramage watched as Bennett was rowed over. The lieutenant was either in a great hurry or nervous at keeping the Dido’s captain waiting, because the brig had hardly backed her foretopsail before a boat was being hoisted out.

  By now Aitken and Southwick had come up to the quarterdeck, curious at all the activity.

  ‘Water,’ Southwick declared. ‘He’s short of water and wants us to give him some. He was too lazy to fill up his casks when he was in Barbados, which was the obvious thing to do.’

  But Ramage was becoming less sure that water was the reason for the visit. Bennett would not have missed the opportunity of taking on water in Barbados – particularly since he could go alongside for it, instead of having to have the casks rowed back and forth.

  Ten minutes later Bennett was saluting Ramage, his face troubled. Then he reported, the words tumbling out. ‘Sir – a French frigate got into Fort Royal during the night! We sighted her there at daylight – in roughly the same position that the Alerte was.’

  Bennett waited, expecting the tongue-lashing for having let the frigate get into port without sighting her. Instead Ramage said grimly: ‘She got past both of us – more by luck than anything else, I suspect: she probably didn’t even know we were here. And it’s a good piece of seamanship to round Cabrit Island and then make your way up to Fort Royal in the dark.’

  Bennett was still uncertain of himself. ‘I’m sorry sir: she must have nipped in when we were at the northern end. Just chance. We’d have seen her if we were at the southern end.’

  ‘You couldn’t have done much about it,’ Ramage said. ‘Fired off some rockets and hoped we saw them, perhaps, but you’d have been hidden by the land unless we were well out.’

  ‘I’m glad you understand our position, sir,’ Bennett said, his relief obvious.

  ‘What sort of frigate?’

  ‘It was too dark to make out many details. Flush deck, thirty-two guns – that was about all we could see. I came south to report as soon as we spotted her.’

  ‘Very well,’ Ramage said cheerfully. ‘Go back to your station – no sign of the Achille stirring, I suppose?’

  ‘No sir, no sign at all.’

  ‘Well, keep a sharp lookout: the frigate might have some news that means she puts to sea.’

  ‘Aye aye, sir, I’ll stay in really close.’

  ‘Keep clear of that big reef on the east side of the Passe du Carénage – what do they call it? Oh yes, the Grande Seche. I always think that Nature put it there specially to protect the eastern side of Fort Royal.’

  Bennett returned to the Scourge, and as soon as the boat was hoisted in the brig let her foretopsail draw and headed back up to the north.

  ‘So a French frigate sneaked past us during the night,’ Southwick grumbled. ‘Well, no moon and a dark night, and our lookouts must have been asleep. Still, give the devils their due: as you said, sir, it was a good piece of seamanship. What’s he up to, though?’

  Ramage said: ‘He brought the French the news we’ve been waiting for: the convoy is near. Anyway, that’s my guess. And I think we’ll see the Achille cross her yards and get ready to sail.’

  Southwick rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. ‘Yes, if the Achille gets ready for sea we’ll know that’s why the frigate came in. But she may be bringing despatches. Fresh orders for the governor, perhaps. Might be something as mundane as wanting water.’

  Ramage nodded and said: ‘True, it might be only one of those things. But the only reason for the Achille to be waiting here in port is to be ready to escort a convoy in, and the only way she would know where to me
et the convoy was if a frigate came ahead and warned her – gave her a rendezvous, in fact.’

  Southwick gave one of his sniffs, this time an approving one. ‘Yes, that makes sense. But is the frigate going to sail again at once, without waiting for the Achille?’

  ‘I should think so.’

  ‘What about getting out to sea and intercepting the convoy, sir?’ Aitken asked.

  ‘It’s hopeless trying to find a convoy out there. The point is it has to come round Cabrit Island to get up to Fort Royal, and that’s the obvious place to wait for it. And with a bit of luck the Achille will go out that way too, to the rendezvous.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Southwick, ‘if we wait at the eastern side of Cabrit, out of sight, we may catch the Achille napping.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Ramage said. ‘Just as the damned frigate caught us napping. There’s no point in waiting off Fort Royal – if the convoy got up that far, some of the merchantmen might be able to bolt in.’

  Daybreak was a repeat of the previous day: the lookouts had been sent aloft and Ramage and Aitken were on the quarterdeck, talking about the day’s work, when there was a hail from aloft. Aitken grabbed the speaking trumpet and answered, and the shout came back that the brig was approaching them from the north.

  Ramage had a sudden sick feeling he knew why. ‘Send Orsini aloft with a bring-’em-near; she may be flying a signal.’

  By chance the Dido was heading north towards the brig, and they were approaching each other at a combined speed of nine or ten knots. By the time Orsini had grabbed a telescope and made his way up the ratlines, it was getting lighter, and he was soon hailing the quarterdeck.

  ‘She’s flying a signal, “Frigate sailed in night”.’

  Ramage cursed and told Aitken: ‘Acknowledge. Tell him to resume his patrol.’

  Aitken gave the orders and said: ‘Does that mean we missed him a second time, sir?’

  Ramage was not sure. The officers of the deck had been given orders to make sure that the men kept a sharp lookout: the Dido had moved further north to patrol off Cap Salomon. The brig was patrolling close in off Fort Royal. There seemed to be only one explanation of how the frigate had eluded the Dido.