The final eighteen-pounder seemed to have doubled its weight. Hayden could hear the men talking as they paused for a break part-way to the top.
‘I believe someone lied about the tonnage of this gun,’ one man suggested.
‘Falsified the customs certificate, that’s sure.’
Darkness slowed the ascent, and made finding solid footing awkward and difficult. For the men guiding the sledge – and Hayden was one – torchlight did not reveal the sharp edges, the grabbing roots.
Midnight passed before the gun reached the hilltop, and, once the halt was called, men collapsed where they stood, too exhausted to even cheer, their faces vacant and shadowed. No one offered congratulations or even muttered thanks; they simply toppled to one side where they sat and fell into a stupor.
‘Sir…’ Jinks managed after a moment.
Hayden had thumped down on the edge of the wooden sledge, his back against the gun.
‘I fear it will soon grow cool, and the men… they have no shelter here.’
‘I will not order them to rise, Mr Jinks; they are fatigued beyond measure. Let them lay out this night. Snow could fall, I think, and they would not be sensible of it. Let us hope they come to no harm.’
Hayden felt himself sliding down the rugged slope towards sleep.
‘If I may, sir,’ a voice said quietly, and Hayden opened his eyes to see a figure bent over him. He thought he felt a light weight settle over his body, and realized a rough blanket covered him. He could see torches down the slope, where the hands who hauled the guns had fallen upon the unyielding ground. In the faint light, men moved among them, as priests went among the fallen after a battle.
‘They’ve brought us blankets, Captain Hayden,’ Jinks said, his voice coming from some great distance.
‘Who…?’
‘The soldiers, sir.’
‘Wherever did they find them?’ Hayden asked, but he fell back into dream before anyone answered.
Eighteen
A league distant, the island appeared verdant, almost lush, but from the deck of the Themis, anchored a cable-length from the beach, Corsica appeared a dull grey-green. This was the result of the low branches of the underwood being a woody-grey and largely unconcealed by leaves, which, at a distance, had the curious effect of dulling the green, as though the eye mixed the two colours into one.
Upon the nearby hilltops, the batteries kept up an incessant firing upon the French positions below, bombarding them with both shot and exploding shells. Hayden was only a little cheered by the idea that the French were hiding in holes while their earthworks were blasted apart around them. In truth, he was yet too fatigued to take the least pleasure from his accomplishment, as though it had been managed by some others or perhaps completed decades previously.
He gazed, for a moment, down into the perfectly clear waters that, from any distance, appeared to be the most vibrant azure. He could see the sandy bottom, and here and there misshapen, flattish rocks, like a dark shadows on the sea floor. The day, still warm, was very nearly windless, the sea and sky as unblemished as a sudden understanding.
‘On deck!’ came the call from aloft. ‘Boat approaching.’
Many boats came and went, among ships and between the anchored fleet and the shore, but this one appeared to be making its way directly towards the Themis – and it was not, Hayden noted, one of their boats. In the stern he could see a midshipman seated by the coxswain and, near to him, some other in a coat of indistinct colour – perhaps green.
Hayden was about to call for his glass when Wickham appeared at his side, and after barely a second’s perusal announced, ‘Sir Gilbert!’
‘Mr Barthe?’ Hayden called to the sailing master, who was bent over a small table with his mate.
Barthe straightened, with a look of slight confusion. ‘Sir?’
‘Can you make out the occupants of this cutter?’
Barthe crossed the deck to stand at the rail by Hayden, only slightly frustrated to be interrupted during his instruction. ‘I cannot.’
‘I am pleased to hear it,’ Hayden replied.
‘Sir?’
‘Nor can I make the man out, but Mr Wickham here tells me it is Sir Gilbert, a truth I can only discern with a glass. But I’m pleased to hear you cannot make him out either. My eyes are not failing.’
‘Pleased to be of service.’ Barthe hovered, as though about to turn away.
‘Carry on, Mr Barthe.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
A few moments later, Sir Gilbert came puffing over the rail, a smile spread over his pleasant face.
‘Captain Hayden! I have just been to see the places where you hauled the guns up to the hilltops and had the whole manner of it described to me. Well done, sir! May I offer my congratulations! How General Dundas must grind his teeth to see those guns firing down upon the French – when he said it could never be done! But it was done, sir, and not by the army, neither.’
Hayden could not help but be gladdened by the ardour of Sir Gilbert’s praise and excitement.
‘Colonel Moore tells me that he believes Dundas will give him the order to attack the French positions the day after tomorrow.’ He began patting his pockets. ‘Which brings to mind… Ah!’ He produced three letters, examined the addressees, returned one to his pocket and handed the others to Hayden.
The hand that addressed the first was known to him. The second, from Admiral Lord Hood.
‘Go on! Go on! I am certain you are all in a lather to see what the Admiral has written you.’
Hayden did not require further encouragement, and broke the seal.
Sir Gilbert watched his face with great attention and anticipation. When Hayden folded the letter without a word, Sir Gilbert laughed pleasantly.
‘You needn’t be so secretive, Captain; Lord Hood explained his plans to me. You are to go after the French frigates?’
‘Indeed. You are singularly well informed.’
Sir Gilbert waved this away with a hand. ‘I am the representative of his Majesty’s government in these waters. Lord Hood confides all to me. And I repay him by repeating nothing, Captain. Can you take a ship into that little bay?’
‘No. The batteries would destroy it. We will have to cut the frigates out by night, boarding them from ship’s boats. It must be done in concert with the assault on the French positions. If we were to attack before, the French soldiers might come to their aid. If we attack after, the French sailors might fire their ships.’
‘They would not try to sail them out under cover of darkness?’
‘Lord Hood has set a very close watch on them by night, and our frigates would soon have them in a corner in this small bay. The great concern is that the French will either fire or scuttle them before they can be taken. And certainly they must have all their preparations made, given the cannonade raining down on the French batteries.’
‘The French cannot help but be sensible of their position here,’ Sir Gilbert agreed. ‘Once the batteries were opened on the hilltops, they must have realized the redoubt could not be held.’ Sir Gilbert looked around the deck of the ship and at the anchored fleet. ‘A very thankful Madam Bourdage and her lovely daughter took ship for Gibraltar these two days past, where they will go on to England. When you have occasion to return home I am certain you shall be the beneficiary of such an outpouring of gratitude from these ladies as will make you blush with pleasure. It is only unfortunate that you could not claim all the evacuees as your relations.’
‘Few families are so large. Would you care for a refreshment, Sir Gilbert? Coffee, perhaps?’
‘I should like nothing better.’
Hayden was anxious to open his second letter, which was from Henrietta, but schooled his emotions and played a passable host to Sir Gilbert Elliot. Without being indiscreet, Sir Gilbert had a propensity for gossip, and given his circle of acquaintance this made for fascinating conversation. He not only moved in the highest political circles in England, but was intimate with many of the
great thinkers and influential personages. Both the king and the Prince of Wales were known to him, as well as Burke and Fox and a host of others. The First Secretary of the Navy, Philip Stephens, was also a familiar personage.
‘You might find yourself addressing him as Sir Philip when next you see home,’ Sir Gilbert informed him. ‘I have it on good authority that his knighthood is in the offing. And well deserved it is, too.’
The moment Sir Gilbert settled himself in the waiting boat, Hayden hurried back down to his cabin and broke the seal on his letter from Henrietta.
My Dear Captain Hayden:
I began this letter by writing, My Dear Charles, as though we, like Robert and Elizabeth, were cousins, or upon Christian names from childhood. I do not know, quite, what tone in which I am permitted to write but your last dear letter to me was couched in terms of such unrestrained affection and warmheartedness that it has emboldened me and made me dare to reply in kind, hoping all the while that I do not presume too much.
I have missed you terribly and you are very often in my thoughts. Women who have sons, husbands or cousins engaged in this terrible war must always be anxious. How they must all watch the post, fearing that single, fateful letter, yet exalting when that sweetest of missive comes from whatever distant theatre, saying that their loved one is well, unharmed, in good health and spirits. You cannot think what this means, and how these poor women then have cause to weep from both worry and relief. And then, but a few hours later, return again to their anxious vigil.
I should not fret so much if you were but a bit more fearful. It was not difficult to read between the lines of your letters telling all that occurred on your convoy, and Elizabeth could not help but confirm my beliefs, as much as she wished not to. It was not quite the routine convoy you described it as.
England remains much as you left it, but for an unseasonably cold winter. Among our little circle, Robert remains perfectly pleased with his new command, and hopes for some action to equal your own. My dear Elizabeth is, as always, busy and content, and would be transported entirely to have her dear husband home. I have but recently returned from Plymouth and can report that Lady Hertle continues to amaze all with her vigour, though I have become aware that the cold winter is hurting her poor joints and she is at great pains to hide this when walking or pursuing needle work, which she has almost abandoned these last weeks.
My own family continue to prosper, and I do hope you shall have occasion to meet them when next you return.
As for myself, I am at my family home along with three of my sisters. The days are much taken up with walking, playing various instruments, reading aloud (my family detests cards), writing almost daily missives to my dearest you, working on the secret novel, and indulging in equally secret pining. Oh, how I hope you will return home before the spring!
I am called away. My father is duplicating the investigations of Mr Newton. I cannot tell you why. It is his latest hobby horse and I am his dutiful assistant. Today we have somewhat to do with prisms.
I do pray this finds you in perfect health, content, and anchored safely in some unassailable harbour.
Your captive heart,
Henri
The evacuation from Toulon had few beneficial effects upon the British fleet, but for the number of ship’s boats that had been required – confiscated from the French. This surplus of cutters, barges and gigs allowed Hayden to replace all the boats he had lost in the same harbour.
‘Mr Chettle, we will swing the boats aboard and paint them all black – both inside and out.’
The angular carpenter might have been trying to hide his disapproval of this order but he was not entirely successful. ‘Black, sir?’
‘Yes. As black as we can make them. Will that be a problem, Mr Chettle?’
‘No, sir. I have all the lamp-black we should want, sir.’ He appeared at a loss for words. ‘It is just… uncommon, Captain.’
‘It will all become clear. Four blackened boats… by tomorrow, if you please, Mr Chettle.’
‘Aye, sir.’
‘Oh, and the sweeps, as well, Mr Chettle.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘Mr Barthe?’
The sailing master came hurrying along the deck with his characteristic waddle.
‘Captain?’
‘I think it best that our painting not be visible to anyone ashore. Perhaps some drying sails can be arranged to hide Mr Chettle’s efforts, if you please?’
The sailing master appeared as confused by the order as Chettle had been, but answered quickly. ‘Aye, sir. I shall arrange for a few sails to take the air.’
‘Thank you, Mr Barthe.’
Hayden called his officers together, and when they had gathered in his cabin, all silently expectant, Hayden began. ‘Lord Hood has ordered us to cut out the frigates anchored beneath the batteries in Fornali Bay. I am to get sufficient men from the Foxhound to take one ship; our crew will take the other. The attack must be co-ordinated with the army’s assault upon the French fortifications.’
‘That will explain why poor Chettle is shaking his head as his crew paints the boats black.’ Wickham was smiling, but whether at Chettle’s consternation or at the prospect of action, Hayden could not tell.
Hayden looked at the faces of his officers. ‘Mr Barthe,’ he said. ‘It is apparent by your countenance that you disapprove of this plan, I suspect, heartily.’
‘Captain, you know as well as I do that the ships will be set afire or scuttled the instant the assault begins upon the redoubt. They’ll not let those ships fall into British hands if there is any way at all that it can be prevented.’
‘I agree entirely, Mr Barthe, but the attempt must be made, and if we can surprise the French crews, I believe we have at least a chance of capturing one ship if not both. After all, they will hardly set fire to a ship they are still aboard, will they? If we can engage them and prevent them from abandoning their vessel, we might carry it. We just might.’
‘I am quite certain we can manage it, sir,’ Wickham interjected. ‘If we can come upon them by stealth, sir, so that we are climbing aboard before they are aware of us, it can be managed.’
‘Are they fully crewed, Captain?’ Hawthorne asked.
This was the question Hayden had been asking himself, without a certain answer.
‘I set two men to watching them from the hilltop as we raised the guns, and it was their opinion that the ships were not fully crewed. Sailors’ uniforms could be seen among the men establishing the works, so I suspect that neither ship possesses a full muster. The captains will not want to find themselves in the situation of having to suddenly disembark two hundred men so that the ship can be fired. No, they will have only a few men aboard. My lookouts thought there might have been as few as sixty souls – no more than eighty.
‘Mr Archer, I will leave you in charge of the Themis. And before you ask, your request is denied; the senior lieutenant will stay with the ship. Have you been on a cutting-out expedition, Mr Ransome?’
The new lieutenant stirred from thought. ‘I have not, sir.’
‘I shall send Mr Hawthorne in your boat; he is a deft hand at such things.’
Hawthorne broke into a grin.
‘Mr Wickham and Mr Madison will each have command of a cutter. I will command the barge. Mr Wickham, take a seaman with good eyes and station yourself on the hilltop near the number one battery, if you please. You will observe the French frigates. If their crews suddenly return or their numbers change appreciably, inform me immediately. I will visit the battery tomorrow afternoon to assess the situation for myself.
‘I should like to take eighty men in the boats. A cutlass and brace of pistols for each man with shot and powder in proportion. Each boat will carry axes and pikes as well. It is my intention to approach by stealth, cut the boarding nets on the larboard quarter, kill or render senseless the sentry, then board in silence. If we are discovered we shall cut away the boarding nets with axes and get as many men over the s
ide as we can. It will be hot work, I should think.
‘Mr Hawthorne, I shall want half your marines with muskets and bayonets, the company divided between the first two boats. There will almost certainly be moonlight, so the hands should wear blue jackets. As my boat shall be the first to approach, I will make a list of the men I want and let you make the arrangements, Mr Archer.’
‘Aye, sir.’ Archer attempted to hide his disappointment at being left aboard, and Hayden was pleased to see he was managing nicely.
‘Upon concluding here, I will visit General Dundas and learn his intentions. I will speak with Colonel Moore, and then pay my respects to Captain Winter of the Foxhound.’ Hayden realized that he felt a great sense of elation at the prospect of action that did not involve dragging heavy guns over hostile countryside. ‘The armourer should examine the flint of every pistol and replace any that are not perfectly satisfactory. Is there anything that anyone wishes to suggest at this moment?’
The officers all glanced one to the other.
‘We might blacken the men’s faces, Captain,’ Wickham offered, ‘in deference to the moonlight, sir.’
‘Yes. Mr Ransome, ask Mr Chettle for some cork to burn.’ Hayden realized Ransome had been very keen to earn prize money. ‘I might remind everyone that even if we do take a frigate that we are under the orders of Lord Hood, who will receive a share, and all the ships present will also receive shares for both officers and crew. I fear no carriages will be purchased with the small monies we receive.’
Smiles and laughter told Hayden that everyone was excited, if not a little anxious, at this enterprise.
‘Mr Archer, any man who must go ashore should be strongly cautioned to say nothing of our intentions. Even General Paoli advised me that the French still have their supporters among his people. Best they not learn of our plans.’ He looked around at the gathered faces, the barely contained eagerness of the middies, Mr Barthe’s knowing resolve. The sailing master had served long enough in His Majesty’s Navy to see many a man lost on just such an enterprise. He understood the terrible luck of it all. But he would not shirk or shy – Hayden knew.
A Battle Won Page 38
