Ramage & the Saracens (14 page)

And that was the only safe way of putting the Frenchmen ashore: loading the cutter with a boat-gun and a dozen marines with muskets, and using it to escort the other boats ashore with the prisoners. But first he had to go over to
Le Tigre
and take her surrender. Was the captain still alive?

The French captain was dead; he had been killed when Ramage had ordered the
Calypso
's guns to sweep
Le Tigre
's decks. Ramage saw that the ship's first lieutenant had been so shocked by the attack and the death of his captain that instead of getting the ship ready for sea he had spent the time having the men clear up the ship and prepare the bodies for burial. More than thirty bodies were lined up on deck, neatly sewn into their hammocks, and waiting for the funeral service to be read.

The lieutenant, Christian La Croix, had met Ramage at the entry port and immediately offered his sword, as though scared that if he did not do it immediately Ramage would open fire again.

La Croix told Ramage that
Le Tigre
had originally been part of a force which had included the two line-of-battle ships, but she had sprung her main-yard and foreyard and had been ordered into the lee—as it then was—of Capraia. The wind had changed, making the island a lee shore, but the captain had not considered the wind strong enough to be a threat.

The captain had never expected to see a British ship, and he had been caught completely unawares when the
Calypso
had suddenly appeared round the headland. The first raking broadsides had swept through the ship, cutting men down in swathes. They could not manoeuvre and thus could not bring any guns to bear, and when the captain was killed, the lieutenant had decided the only thing he could do to stop the slaughter was to surrender, and hardly had he hauled down his colours than he saw
Le Jason
(also part of the original force but detached to inspect a distant sail) returning. The
Calypso
and
Le Jason
had engaged each other immediately, and when the
Calypso
had not returned two hours later he assumed she had been taken. A wrong assumption, he admitted ruefully.

Then, he said quite openly, the
Calypso
had suddenly reappeared, round the northern headland this time, and once again caught him unprepared. He had not seen the masts of the British frigate approaching; the first he knew was when a lookout saw the ship rounding the headland with her guns run out.

Ramage had been told all this story while they stood on deck by the entry port. He was quite ready to take La Croix's word for it that the dead captain's cabin no longer existed.

After returning the lieutenant's sword—much to La Croix's surprise, since he thought that by surrendering he had brought dishonour on himself twice in one day—Ramage told him that he intended putting all
Le Tigre
's ship's company ashore, except for the wounded, who would be taken to the
Calypso
for treatment. Those too badly wounded to be moved would be treated on board
Le Tigre.
The ship's surgeon, Ramage said, would have to remain on board as a prisoner. In the meantime one of the officers could read the funeral service over the dead.

Back on board the
Calypso,
Ramage revised his orders. The prisoners would be ferried ashore in the two cutters, and the jolly-boat would be armed with a boat-gun and would carry a dozen marines. The two cutters would be rowed to the shore keeping either side of the jolly-boat. If the French prisoners tried to take control of one or other of the cutters, Ramage instructed, the men at the oars should jump over the side, leaving the way open for the boat-gun in the jolly-boat to open fire.

Orsini was put in command of the jolly-boat with Jackson and his boat crew, with marines to handle the gun, which fitted on the forward thwart and fired two pounds of musket balls.

To take the first boatload of prisoners ashore, the jolly-boat was rowed over to
Le Tigre
and she stayed close to the entry port while the cutters went alongside. Two marines searched each man as he came down the ship's side to make sure that he was not concealing a pistol or a knife.

The wind was kicking up a chop as the two cutters and jolly-boat set off on their first trip to the shore. Orsini, proud and excited at commanding a little flotilla of three boats, kept a sharp lookout and steered for a forty-yard-long stretch of beach between rocks. There was a slight swell breaking on the sand but each boat had a grapnel ready to drop as it went in and which would prevent its stern from swinging round so that the boat broached.

Ramage had left Hill and a dozen seamen on board the French ship to supervise the transfer of prisoners and had taken Lieutenant La Croix over to the
Calypso
: he would remain a prisoner of war on board. La Croix had been taken below under guard and Ramage was idly watching the two cutters return empty, escorted by the jolly-boat. Suddenly he saw the cutters as they approached
Le Tigre
quickly swerve away and wait about thirty yards from the entry port. The jolly-boat went up to the entry port, paused for three or four minutes, and then turned and headed for the
Calypso.

A puzzled Ramage called Aitken and Southwick and went to wait at the entry port. As soon as the jolly-boat came alongside and hooked on, Orsini hurried on board and saluted Ramage.

“The French prisoners have seized Mr Hill and the marines,” he reported angrily. “They warned me and the cutters to keep off …”

“What are their demands?” Ramage enquired.

“They made none, sir. I think they just seized our people without any plan.”

“Do they have a spokesman?”

“There's a big fat seaman who shouted down at me. He looks like the ringleader.”

Ramage thought for a moment. If he made a single mistake now there would be an inglorious stalemate: a stalemate which he had caused by not putting a strong guard on board
Le Tigre.
He had assumed, since she had surrendered and could not get under way, that all her men were helpless. Clearly they were not.

“Go back to
Le Tigre,
” he told Orsini. “Tell the ringleader that we shall start raking his ship as soon as we get under way again, and will go on raking her until they hoist a white flag showing they surrender.”

“But Mr Hill … ?” asked Orsini.

“Mr Hill and the rest of them will have to take their chance,” Ramage said abruptly.

As Orsini scrambled down to the jolly-boat, Ramage gave his orders. Southwick was told to get the ship under way again—which meant letting the fore-topsail draw—while Aitken was ordered to make sure the guns on both broadsides were loaded, and the crews were distributed as evenly as possible, since many men were away in the two cutters and jolly-boat.

“Supposing the French put Hill and the rest of our men right aft, sir?” Southwick asked.

“I'm assuming they will,” Ramage said bitterly, “in which case they'll be killed—if we have to open fire.”

Southwick nodded reluctantly, because he liked Hill. “I suppose we have no choice.”

“None that I can think of,” Ramage said.

By now the fore-topsail was drawing and she began to wear round to pass across
Le Tigre
's stern.

“Pass the word to the guns that they are not to fire the first time we cross
Le Tigre
's stern,” Ramage told Aitken. “But we shall tack and pass back, if necessary, and they will open fire with the starboard broadside.”

“Pass just close enough to keep our yards clear,” Ramage said to Southwick.

As the
Calypso
turned, Ramage watched the group of Frenchmen by the entry port. The jolly-boat had been up to the ship and, now that Orsini had delivered his warning, was rowing clear, followed by the cutters. Ramage could imagine the debate among the French: they could now see the English frigate, with guns run out, manoeuvring to deliver another of her raking broadsides which had already killed so many Frenchmen. Would the fat spokesman (ringleader, most likely) now realize that he had just signed the death warrants for another score or so of his shipmates?

The
Calypso
slowly turned as though to bring her larboard broadside to bear as she passed across
Le Tigre
's stern, and Ramage watched the French ship closely. He had decided to make one false run to give the French time to find a white flag: they would have to make one up from an old sheet, or even hoist up a square of canvas, though the colour would be far from white.

As Ramage's telescope swept
Le Tigre
's stern, he saw running men waving shirts. Then the Tricolour was hoisted a few feet and then hauled down again. There was no mistaking the movement.

“They're surrendering again,” Southwick said with a contemptuous sniff. “They can't find a white flag!”

“Keep going,” Ramage said. “It won't do ‘em any harm to think they're going to be raked again.”

The
Calypso
passed close under
Le Tigre
's stern without firing and then wore round to pass back again and returned to her original position, where she hove-to.

Almost immediately Orsini was alongside with the jolly-boat and coming on board for orders.

“Bring that spokesman over here, and then carry on with the cutters taking men ashore,” Ramage said. “But I want to talk to the fat man.”

Orsini said: “I thought you were going to rake her, sir: it looked very frightening from the jolly-boat.”

“It had to look frightening for the bluff to work,” Ramage said.

“You mean you would not have fired, sir?” Orsini asked.

“That fat man thought so, and that's all that matters,” Ramage said.

“I thought you would, too,” Orsini said with a shiver. “I thought I'd seen the last of Mr Hill.”

“I expect Mr Hill thought he had seen the last of us, too,” Ramage said grimly.

Orsini went back to the jolly-boat and ferried the fat man before resuming escorting the cutters. Ramage could see the crowd of Frenchmen assembled on the beach growing larger and larger.

The fat man was made to stand at the gangway with two marines behind him. He was, Ramage thought, one of the most repulsive men he had ever seen. The fat on his stomach made him look like an inflated bladder; the fat on his face hung down like the jowls of a bloodhound. The man was greasy and unshaven. But even as he stood in front of the two marines he was wringing his hands, like an apologetic innkeeper. He said nothing but his hands kept on moving. Clearly, Ramage realized, the man expected to be shot and thrown over the side. Well, there was no reason to let him think differently—for a while, anyway.

“Well,” Ramage said coldly in French, “your commanding officer had surrendered the ship, hadn't he?”

“Yes,
m'sieur.
”

“And that included you?”

“Yes,
m'sieur.
”

“Then why did you make my men hostages and tell the boat to keep off?”

“I don't know,
m'sieur,
” the man said miserably.

“Don't be stupid: you persuaded the rest of your ship's company to follow you.”

“Oh no!” the man exclaimed. “No, they didn't. At least, a few did but the rest said it was suicide. Why—they ran aft and surrendered the ship again just as you were going to open fire!”

“Oh, so it wasn't you surrendering?”

“No, sir,” the man said, perspiring freely and wiping his forehead with his hand. “No, not me.”

“Why not? Didn't you agree with them surrendering?”

“I was too scared,” the man admitted. “I thought you were going to rake us again—and I was afraid of being killed.”

Well, Ramage thought, at least you are an honest man. He turned and told Aitken in English to pass the word to Rennick to have a file of half a dozen marines line up on the gangway facing the fat man.

It took several minutes and during that time Ramage did not speak a word. The fat man, eyes bulging, watched every move round him. Finally the file of marines were ready and Sergeant Ferris saluted Ramage smartly. “The men you requested all fallen in and ready, sir.”

“Very well, Sergeant,” Ramage said formally, returning the salute.

By now there was almost complete silence on deck: seamen had stopped and were watching the fat man; Aitken and Southwick stood to one side of Ramage and Sergeant Ferris stood beside the marines.

Ramage turned again to the Frenchman, who was perspiring so heavily he looked as though he was melting.

“What you were doing,” Ramage said deliberately, “was fomenting a mutiny. Your captain—the lieutenant who had taken over command—had surrendered. In other words he had given you orders to cease fighting. But later you—whoever you are—gave new orders to the men: you told them to drive off the English, to whom your new captain had surrendered.

“Death!” Ramage suddenly thundered at the man, who immediately fainted in an untidy heap.

The two marines behind him put their muskets down on the deck and dragged him to his feet, letting go of him as soon as he could stand unaided.

Ramage said: “Death! That is what I could order, and there—” he pointed to the marines, “—are the men of a firing squad. Yes, death is what I could order for you. And I may yet. For the time being you will be taken below and put in irons.”

As soon as the man had been taken away, Southwick said: “I thought you meant it! It would have been the first firing squad you've ever assembled.”

“The fat man thought I meant it, too,” Ramage said. “I've never seen anyone faint like that before!”

Ramage waited until the two cutters had finished ferrying the prisoners ashore and as soon as they turned back towards the
Calypso
with the jolly-boat he said: “Pass the word for the carpenter, Mr Southwick: we'll go over and inspect
Le Tigre.
I want to see what repairs have to be done to make her seaworthy.”