Ramage's Diamond (43 page)

Again Thurot nodded, as though fear and misery had made him speechless.

“How many in your ship's company?”

“Two hundred and seventy-three petty officers and men, five warrant officers and four officers, and the Captain.”

“You suffered no casualties?”

“Casualties? Oh yes, I forgot. Eleven dead and seventeen wounded, but only four of them seriously.”

Ramage breathed deeply and noisily, as though considering something. “My Captain is a stern man. He could send you all to England, even though there is a more—how shall we say it, a more civilized way …”

Thurot was obviously trying to pull himself together, and he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “What way,
m'sieur?
”

Ramage gestured towards Martinique. “It would be more civilized to let your men row ashore. A long row, admittedly, but then it is a long voyage to England. The officers would give me their parole, and you would agree that the men do not serve again until formally exchanged …”

Thurot glanced down at the box. Ramage kicked it back with his heel, so that it slid under his chair. “If you agree to those terms, I will take the box away in a kitbag, padded with old clothes, so no one will know …”

Thurot gulped, as though his adam's apple was trying to leap out of his mouth, nodded his head vigorously and then, to Ramage's horror, burst into tears.

An hour later Ramage stood with Southwick on the
Juno
's quarterdeck watching as the
Surcouf
tacked up towards the Grande Anse du Diamant beach, towing ten boats astern of her. Southwick commented that she looked like a dog running out of a butcher's shop with a string of sausages.

The boats were packed with men. The first four were the
Surcouf
's own boats, then came the
Juno
's launch and jolly-boat, and finally
La Comète
's boats. Only twenty Frenchmen remained on board
La Comète
to handle the chain pump, and by the time the
Surcouf
had cast off the boats as near to the beach as possible and waited for the French to scramble up the beach and the boats to return, the
Juno
's carpenter would have stopped
La Comète
's leak, ready for the
Surcouf
to take her in tow.

The heavily-laden merchant ships were the next problem. He had tossed up between them and the two frigates, which were now drifting past the southern end of the Diamond still firmly locked together. Finally he decided that an enterprising French officer, as soon as he landed on the beach, would try to find some native boats (if the merchantmen's own boats had been smashed up by
La Créole
) and, in breach of paroles and exchange agreements, set about getting aboard the merchantmen as soon as night fell.

Fifteen heavily armed Junos led by Rossi were now guarding the twenty Frenchmen working
La Comète
's pumps. The moment the
Surcouf
returned with the boats, those twenty Frenchmen would be allowed to row to the shore, providing the carpenter and his mates had stopped the leak satisfactorily.

Now, as the
Juno
beat up towards the cluster of drifting merchantmen,
La Créole
finished a sweep close to the shore and bore away towards her.

Orsini, signal book in hand, was standing waiting. “The
Créole
's pendant,” Ramage said, “and the signal to pass within hail. Number 84, I believe.”

He was teasing the boy but Paolo was still taking his work very seriously. “Number 84, it is, sir!”

The wind eased as the
Juno
closed with the coast and as she approached the wallowing merchantmen the
Surcouf
turned to run back to
La Comète,
her long tail of boats towing astern. Ramage swept his telescope along the beach and could see a long column of men walking towards the western end. He steadied the telescope and saw that a much smaller group of men was waiting there for them, probably the masters and men from the merchantmen. He swung the telescope back along the beach and saw piles of wood gathered every twenty yards or so along the water's edge. Much of the wood was shaped into curves so he realized that they were a dozen or more smashed-up boats from the merchant ships. Wagstaffe must have taken
La Créole
in close and given his men some target practice, or sent a party on shore with axes. Anyway, there was no risk of the French getting back on board again from this beach unless they wanted to swim …

Southwick finished grumbling at the quartermaster for letting the maintopsail luff flutter and then came over to Ramage.

“I don't think many of them waited long enough to cut the sheets and braces, sir,” he said, pointing towards the merchant-men. “I think they just let 'em run. The ropes may have flogged themselves into rare old tangles, but ten men apiece should be enough to get them under way. I'm a bit doubtful about them anchoring in the right places, though …”

“As long as they get an anchor down on the five-fathom ledge by the Diamond,” Ramage said, “I'll be content. They'll have
La Comète
for company, but the rest of us will be under way all night.”

“And the two frigates, sir?”

“I want to go down and look at them as soon as we have these merchantmen safely anchored. I've been watching them, and there's no risk of them cutting themselves adrift. Seems to me the one hit amidships is settling.”

Southwick took the proffered telescope. “You're right, sir! Well, we'll soon see. I can't wait to hear from Aitken how it all happened.”

The
Juno
now had fewer than forty-five men on board. Apart from the carpenter and his mates, there were fifteen seamen on board
La Comète
guarding the French pumpers. Twenty-five men could keep the
Juno
under way under topsails.

“Pick twenty men,” Ramage said. “They can handle two merchantmen. Who do I put in charge of each party … ?” He paused, trying to think of men.

“Jackson and Stafford, sir?” Southwick suggested. “They're your best men.”

Ramage laughed and agreed. The idea of an American seaman belonging to a British ship of war going off in command of a crew to bring a French prize to anchor had a truly cosmopolitan ring about it. “That takes care of two ships. Wagstaffe will have to spare ten men, so three ships can come down at the same time,” he said, “and then he can take the twenty Junos back and with his ten collect three more. His ten men can bring the last one in. That will save time, because the
Créole
gets up to windward better than we do.”

The schooner came down the
Juno
's larboard side, swept under her stern and, hardening in sheets, came close under the frigate's quarter. Ramage shouted across Wagstaffe's orders and the schooner bore up towards the convoy, men running aft to the falls of the quarter boat, ready to lower it. Southwick already had his twenty men mustered and was giving instructions to Jackson and Stafford. Both told their men to collect arms, and Ramage noticed they all chose pistols and cutlasses.

A quarter of an hour later the
Juno
was lying hove-to to windward of the merchantmen and her two cutters were pulling for the two nearest while
La Créole
's small boat was already alongside another.

Ramage looked across at
La Comète
and saw that she now had all the
Surcouf
's boats astern of her. Aitken obviously wanted them out of the way of the cable, and it was a quick way of transferring more men to work on the French frigate's fo'c's'le. Then he saw a single boat leave
La Comète
and pull towards the headland. The
Juno
's carpenter had been better than his word and the French seamen had already been freed, after their long spell at the pump. Ramage did not envy them their long row: their backs would already be aching … That would leave one boat on the Grande Anse beach. The French were unlikely to make use of it, but if there was time
La Créole
could go over and destroy it.

“Jackson's done it!” Southwick shouted gleefully. “Just look at him,” he added, eye glued to his telescope, “standing there with a cutlass slung over his shoulder and a couple of pistols in his belt! Looks more like a pirate than the Captain's coxswain!”

The ship's yards were being braced round and the sails filled as the men sheeted them home. Slowly she gathered way, slab-sided and bulky, and Ramage saw her Tricolour being hauled down. A minute or two later it was hoisted again, with a Red Ensign above it.

“And there goes Stafford,” Southwick called. Ramage saw another Tricolour come down and the Master commented: “Jackson's beaten him there—though where he found that ensign I don't know!”

It took nearly two hours to get the seven merchant ships anchored off the Diamond, and by the time the last two arrived the
Surcouf
had towed
La Comète
into position, anchored her, and retrieved the seamen, leaving fifteen Junos on board under Rossi's command.

On an impulse, Ramage had sent word to Aitken to keep two of
La Comète
's boats in tow, as well as her own, and had taken the third in tow of the
Juno,
giving instructions to Wagstaffe to return to the beach with
La Créole
and destroy
La Comète
's fourth boat, which the French seamen had tried to haul up.

Then the
Juno
led the way round the south side of the Diamond Rock to the remaining two frigates, which were out of sight behind it. The sun was beginning to dip down now and it would be dark within two hours. The men of the
Juno
and the
Surcouf
were at quarters as they rounded the Rock, Ramage cursing to himself yet again because he was so short of men, but a sudden hail from Southwick on the fo'c's'le warned him that the French ships were in sight. One glance told him that all fighting was over for the day.

The decks of one frigate were almost awash and, as far as he could make out, she was being kept afloat only by the bows of the second, which was now heeled over by her weight and likely to capsize at any moment. The men had cut her masts away, presumably trying to right her, but three boats were rowing round the two ships. As he looked through the telescope he saw black specks in the water round the two ships. There were also white blobs with black specks on them: men holding on to hammocks to keep afloat.

As he watched he felt a chill which had nothing to do with the fact that the heat was going out of the sun and they were getting a stronger breeze as the
Juno
came clear of the land. It was the realization that the three boats circling the two ships probably represented all that could be launched. The rest had presumably been smashed by falling masts and yards.

There must be five or six hundred Frenchmen out there, some swimming, some clinging to hammocks, others to bits of wreckage. Many were still on board one or other of the ships: men who could not swim or who feared the sharks. Five or six hundred Frenchmen to be rescued by the
Juno
and the
Surcouf.
Once again there was the risk of rescued becoming captors …

Southwick came hurrying up the quarterdeck ladder, a look of alarm on his face. “It'd be suicide, sir,” he exclaimed, obviously not caring that the men at the wheel and the quartermaster heard him. “Let those devils on board and they'll seize both ships! Aye, and recapture the merchantmen and
La Comète
too!”

“Quite right,” Ramage murmured, “and take us into Fort Royal in triumph, and probably put the pair of us in the public pillory for a couple of days to cool our heels while they sharpen the guillotine.”

“Well, sir, I know how …” he broke off, but Ramage could guess that the rest of the sentence would have been, “soft-hearted you are.”

“You don't want to leave them to drown though, do you?” Ramage asked in a mild voice.

“They have three boats, sir.”

“Among about six hundred men?”

“I'd sooner leave 'em to drown than hand the two ships over to them,” Southwick said firmly. “Why, if it was t'other way about, they'd probably sink the boats to make sure
we'd
drown!”

Ramage jerked his head and walked aft to the taffrail, where the Master joined him with a questioning look. Ramage looked astern at the
Juno
's four boats and one from
La Comète
towing astern. Then he pointed to the
Surcouf,
following two hundred yards in the
Juno
's wake. “She has six more. With the three already there, we have fourteen boats in which to tow them to the Grande Anse beach, keeping them at painter's length all the while.”

“I suppose so, sir,” Southwick said grudgingly, “but no good ever came of trusting Frenchmen, an' you know that better than most.”

The rescue was easier than Ramage had expected. He hoveto the
Juno
fifty yards to the north of the sinking ships, the boats swinging round like a dog curling its tail. Immediately men began swimming to them, and Ramage hailed one of the boats, which approached warily. A lieutenant was in command of it, and Ramage ordered him to row round the survivors and tell them to start by getting into the
Juno
's boats. As soon as they were full the other frigate would come down and pick up the rest. They would be towed to the beach, Ramage told them, warning the lieutenant not to let the boats get so crowded that they capsized or sank. “You are fortunate that we are here,” he shouted harshly. “You will all remain in the boats.”