"Ramage and the Dido" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pope Dudley)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ramage had written a brief but tactful letter to Admiral Cameron outlining the capture of the Volage and describing the new plants, mangoes, that she had on board. Without mentioning Captain Bligh or breadfruit, he had tried to draw the admiral's attention to the fact that the mango might become an important fruit in the West Indies - a welcome change from the usual round of oranges and bananas and pawpaw. How did one tell an admiral that the mangoes in the Volage might be as important to the West Indies as the breadfruit, and obtained without having to send a special ship all the way to India to collect them?

Had the French split the journey up, first taking them from India to Mauritius and planting them out there, then a year or so later taking plants from Mauritius and bringing them here, thus cutting the length of the voyage almost in half?

How could one persuade an admiral in a letter to have the plants brought ashore and planted out, instead of throwing them overboard and fitting the frigate out with more guns, because he was so short of frigates? Better still, send the Volage on to Jamaica, the biggest British island and the most suitable, he thought, for experiments. They had big botanical gardens there: the staff would be just the right people to plant the mango and see how it prospered in the West Indies.

Anyway, the Volage was now carrying the letter to Admiral Cameron. If the admiral was really interested, there must be someone on the station who spoke French and could question Furneaux further.

Southwick, who Ramage suspected was a frustrated gardener, gave a sniff and said: 'If anything comes of this plant business, they'll probably call you "Mango Ramage" - you'll be as famous as "Breadfruit Bligh".'

'Bligh is famous for the Bounty, not the breadfruit,' Ramage said sourly, 'so I'll thank you for not making any comparison.'

'Well, mangoes sound tastier than breadfruit, so perhaps it won't be too bad.'

'Martinique,' Ramage said, to change the subject. 'Is the current playing tricks with us?'

'There's a bit o' west-going current here, but not enough to worry about. We should have Diamond Rock abeam in about three hours. That'll bring back some memories, eh?'

Ramage nodded. 'It seems a long time ago. I still don't know how we captured it!'

'I don't know about capturing it: the miracle was how we swayed up those guns to the top. And how we captured the Calypso.'

'Well, we may have captured it, but it was retaken by the French because of the drunken antics of an officer long after we had gone back to England.'

'Yes, the loss of the Rock was a shameful business,' Southwick said. 'If we'd have held on to it we would have continued to control everything that tried to get into Fort Royal.'

'And we wouldn't have the present trouble either. At least, Admiral Cameron wouldn't. And we wouldn't be here. Curious how the wheel seems to have turned full circle. It's about time for us to recapture Diamond Rock.'

'I should imagine the French have a proper garrison there now,' Southwick said speculatively.

'Well, I'm certainly not going to try it,' Ramage said. 'Times have changed. What a young officer commanding a brig can do, and get away with, is different from the circumstances of a post-captain commanding a seventy-four and with definite orders in his pocket.'

Southwick put his telescope to his eye. 'I can just make out Cabrit Island,' he said. 'You'll remember that is the southernmost tip of Martinique. We'll soon be up to Fort Royal, and loosing off a broadside into Fort Louis. Ah,' he said sentimentally, 'it's quite like old times!'

Half an hour later, when the Dido had hauled around to the north-west, a lookout hailed the deck to report a sail in sight in line with Diamond Rock, which it had just rounded.

Ramage immediately sent Orsini aloft with a telescope, and the young Italian was soon shouting down that the sail was a brig, which had just altered course towards the Dido.

Aitken, who had answered the hail, put down the speaking trumpet and said to Ramage: 'Didn't you say, sir, that there was one of our brigs patrolling off Fort Royal?'

'Yes, the admiral was grumbling that he had not got a frigate. Hoist the challenge.'

At dawn each day Ramage consulted the little booklet given him by Admiral Cameron showing the challenge and reply for every day during the next three months, and he gave both to Aitken as soon as he came on deck. The brig - if she was British - would have a copy too, and it was the tradition that the challenge was the first signal hoisted, and if the correct reply was made then each ship hoisted the flags corresponding to her number in the List of the Navy. Thus, almost instantaneously, ships could discover a friend and know her identity.

The booklet containing the challenges and replies was the most secret on board: the penalty for letting it fall into enemy hands was at best a court martial, and in a bad case a captain could expect to be dismissed the Service. By contrast, letting the Signal Book fall into enemy hands, although a court martial offence, was less important: in the Signal Book every signal had its own number, and it was tedious but not impossible to warn every ship, after the Signal Book was known to be in enemy hands, to add a certain number - three, or seven, or nine, usually a single figure - to the numbers in the book and once again secrecy was restored. Most signal books had the original printed numbers crossed out and new numbers written in by hand.

Paolo shouted down that the brig had answered the challenge correctly and had hoisted her pendant numbers, which he called out. Ramage took the Signal Book out of the drawer in the binnacle and turned to the back. There she was: number 613, the Scourge, of 22 guns.

'Have the captain come on board: heave-to when she is closer,' Ramage told Aitken.

The signal for captain, with the Scourge's number, was hoisted, and in a few minutes the Dido was hove-to under backed maintopsail and the Scourge was hove-to to windward and hoisting out a boat.

And there was Diamond Rock fine on the starboard bow, sticking up like a jagged tooth. The rock with a sprinkling of green. Yes, it was a long time ago, Ramage thought, but capturing the Rock and attacking the next French convoy to pass had been exciting; afterwards there was a feeling of achievement - apart from having captured a French frigate, which he was given to command, and which became the Calypso, one of the fastest frigates in the King's service.

The captain of the Scourge was a nervous young lieutenant who introduced himself to Ramage as James Bennett. He was tall and thin with sandy hair, and very impressed when he found he was talking to Captain Lord Ramage. It was obvious, Ramage thought, that the capture of Diamond Rock made a story still told in the Windward and Leeward Islands.

Ramage took Bennett down to his cabin. 'What's going on up at Fort Royal?'

'It's very quiet, sir. The French seventy-four is still anchored in the Baie du Car#233;nage, under the guns of Fort St Louis, with a frigate close by her. There are the usual collection of droghers anchored off the mouth of the Sal#233;e River, along with a few trading vessels. Otherwise there is nothing going on. The last time I saw her, yesterday afternoon, the seventy-four had her topsail yards sent down, probably doing repairs.'

'How close do you go in to look at her?'

'About a mile, sir. Fort St Louis opens fire, and then I usually turn away. It's easy to lose the wind in the bay, and I'm always a bit nervous about lying there becalmed while the fort gives us a pounding.'

'Yes, the bay is surrounded by mountains to the north and east: they act like curtains and keep the wind out.'

'And they've put in some new batteries covering the town to the west of the fort. Before that, I used to sneak in from the west, but now the batteries keep me well out into the bay.'

As Bennett talked, Ramage got the impression of a nervous young man afraid of risking his ship, but nevertheless carrying out his orders to keep a watch on the French seventy-four. But he was not the man to startle anyone by sending a boarding party in one night to try to cut out the frigate, or make a surprise raid on the droghers, and sink or burn a few. Not a man in other words, who made his presence felt, discomforting the French from time to time. If he ever achieved post rank it would be by luck, being the only man around when the opening occurred, rather than the reward for a particular episode.

It was a pity, Ramage thought, that someone like Aitken or George Hill did not command the Scourge; they could make the ship live up to her name. He made a guess at how Bennett had obtained the command of the brig: her previous captain had died suddenly from yellow fever and Bennett, a lieutenant in the flagship and a favourite of the admiral, had been given the command. If that was so, and he suspected it was, then Bennett had been lucky. It was a very familiar story, though of no particular credit to the Navy, because it meant that some spirited and competent lieutenants failed to get promotion because they did not catch an admiral's eyes, never serving in the flagship.

Which only emphasized that all too often luck was the most important factor in getting promotion: being around and under the admiral's eye when a vacancy occurred.

Yet if he was fair he would have to admit that was how he got his start: he was at hand in the Mediterranean when Lord Nelson - then a less distinguished rear-admiral - was looking for a lieutenant to command the Kathleen cutter and attempt to carry out what he now realized were thought to be impossible orders, although at the time he had been so young and keen that nothing seemed impossible. Nor, in this case, were they.

As he examined the great kidney-shaped bay, memories came flooding back to Ramage. Nothing had changed at Fort Royal, up in the north-west corner. The cathedral stood in the centre of the town and Fort St Louis still sat four-square on the peninsula to the east. Further eastward the seventy-four was at anchor in the Baie du Car#233;nage, with the frigate half a mile to seaward, swinging just clear of the big shoal in front of the fort.

'That seventy-four seems snug enough,' Southwick grunted, putting down his telescope. 'Doesn't look as if she goes to sea very often. They need boats to tow her into that berth: she could never sail in, not with the prevailing wind.'

'She only needs to sail when a convoy is expected,' Ramage reminded him. 'The frigate probably does all the routine patrolling - she's anchored well out.'

Even as he spoke, an idea was growing in Ramage's mind. The frigate was anchored well clear - what was that channel called? Ah yes, the Passe du Car#233;nage, and to the west of her was the Banc du Fort St Louis.

'I wonder what they're thinking over there,' Aitken speculated. 'They probably haven't seen a British seventy-four off here for many months.'

'Well, that frigate never sailed to chase off the Scourge, so I don't expect they'll get very excited about us,' Ramage said.

'A pity,' Southwick commented. 'I can't see how we'll ever lure her out.'

'We might be able to catch her if she sails to escort a convoy,' Ramage said.

Southwick gave one of his familiar sniffs, this time indicating doubt. 'They probably only get a couple of convoys a year, maybe not even that many, so we might have a long wait.'

'Better than blockading Brest in the winter,' Aitken commented. 'A gale once a week in the winter, with snow as well. Frozen ropes, clothes wet for weeks on end ... no I'd rather blockade Fort Royal!'

Ramage, who knew he had not the patience to blockade anywhere for long, thought about his original idea. Already the thought of sailing up and down the coast, or waiting off Diamond Rock for the Scourge to make a signal that the French were sailing, was beginning to pall.

But for a day or two, he would let the French settle down again: the Scourge would continue her watch on Fort Royal while the Dido went back to waiting close to Diamond Rock.

He thought of the row of mountains lining the coast down as far as Diamond Rock. It was almost like coming home again, because he could remember the names of most of them. Once past Cap Salomon, there was Morne La Plaine with another one behind it whose name he had forgotten, then Morne Macabou, followed by Morne Jacqueline, jutting out to sea, and then the highest of them all, Morne Larcher, which formed Pointe du Diamant.

Splendid mountains, all of them, but cutting off the Trade winds as effectively as a door, unless for a change there was a bit of south in them. All of which meant that a ship had to keep five or six miles out to sea, unless the captain wanted to risk losing the wind and getting swept north by the north-going current.

But, as Aitken said, it was worse off Brest!

He told Southwick to fix the frigate's position, using both the compass and horizontal sextant angles, and as soon as the master had done that Ramage gave the order for the Dido to turn away to the south-west, to round Cap Salomon three miles off and then turn south to start patrolling west of Diamond Rock, where the wind was steady and the current less strong.

When hands were piped to dinner, and as the Dido turned southwards, Stafford said to the four Frenchmen: 'Well, now you've seen it, what do you think of Diamond Rock?'

'You must have been goats to capture it,' Gilbert said. 'Only goats could climb up there. And as for swaying up guns...'

Stafford laughed at the memory. 'Yes, goats was about it; that rock is even steeper than it looks. As we sailed past this morning, I was amazed that we ever managed to get a gun ashore there - there's only one tiny landing place. We hoisted the guns to the top direct from the deck, o'course, using a block and tackle. Pity those fools who took over from us ever lost it. More than six hundred feet to the top - made you feel dizzy looking down. But the battery we had at the top - I can tell you, that had a good range!'

'What did you do for water?'

'Ah, that was the problem. The island is as dry as - well, a piece o' rock. Every drop of water had to be landed. I fink that's how the French recaptured it - our chaps ran out of water. I can tell you, it's hot up there - the rock holds the heat. Doesn't seem to get any cooler at night, either.'

Jackson said: 'Staff's main memory of the place is that he didn't get his regular tot. As you know, he's partial to a drop of rum.'

'I dunno about a tot,' Stafford grumbled. 'All I can remember was wishing for a pint of cold water. That's all I could think about. I even dreamed about it.'

'It was just off Diamond Rock that we captured the Calypso,'Jackson told the Frenchmen. 'Mr Ramage was given command of her as a sort of recognition of what he had done in capturing the Rock. By the way, did you notice that frigate in Port Royal?'

'Yes,' Rossi said. 'Is like the Calypso. A sister, I think.'

'I think so, too: she has the same sheer, from what I could see of her.'

'I wonder what's happened to our Calypso,'Stafford said. 'Probably commissioned again and flogging up and down the Channel. Chasing French privateers. I'm glad we left her: all that cold and wet. That's what I like about the West Indies - it's nice and warm. Even the rain is warm.'

'Wait until we get a hurricane: then you'll change your tune.'

'You forget we've already been through one hurricane here. I can still hear those masts going by the board in the Triton brig. You must admit, Jacko,' Stafford said, 'that it was a wet and windy few hours.'

'I can remember how we drifted afterwards - what was the name o' that island? Oh yes, Culebra. Sad to think of the wreck of the Triton still on that reef.'

'You can say one thing about serving with Mr Ramage,' Stafford said. 'At least there's plenty o' variety. Too much, some might say. Not me,' he added hastily. 'I enjoy it.'