Ramage At Trafalgar (27 page)

He looked across at the
Victory:
she seemed to be the sharp end of a thin wedge of ships aimed at the side of the enemy line of battle; but her sails flapped occasionally in the intermittent breeze as if hinting to Lord Nelson that Nature might not be on his side.

In the
Calypso
, Ramage knew everything was ready for battle, although they would not be firing a shot: the gunner was down in the magazine and the “fearnought” felt curtains were hanging down, doused with water and protecting the magazine and serving hatch from flashes; the decks were wetted and sanded; the guns were loaded, with flintlocks firmly bolted on, and their captains ready to grab the trigger lines which, until needed, stayed neatly coiled on the breeches of the guns. The second captains were ready with their prickers, which would be rammed into the vents to penetrate the cartridges, ensuring that the coarser powder ignited the moment the priming powder flashed into the vent. The men would have been issued with cutlasses, tomahawks, pikes or pistols, depending what was marked against their name in the general quarter, watch and station bill, which listed the name of every man in the ship and his task for every evolution, whether anchoring, tacking, wearing, furling, reefing or fighting the enemy.

Jackson had brought up Ramage’s two pistols, loaded and ready to fire – a task the American had set himself years ago. And Ramage was, at Silkin’s insistence, wearing his Lloyd’s Patriotic Fund sword. Ramage preferred a seaman’s cutlass for fighting, but today (of all days) he could be sure the
Calypso
would not be doing any fighting…

The
Victory
had half a mile to go. And there! the French 74 ahead of the
Santissima Trinidad
fired a broadside, red winking eyes giving way to smoke which, because the wind was too light to disperse it quickly, filled the ship and blurred her outline as it streamed out of the gunports.

Ramage looked at the
Victory
with his glass. The enemy’s broadside must have fallen short. And then the great Spanish three-decker seemed to shiver as the guns on all her decks fired. Smoke curled up, wrapping itself round her tumblehome like fog and reaching up to her sails, following their shape. Again Ramage could see no effect on the
Victory
or the
Téméraire
, which seemed to be trying to race the
Victory
.

The range was now so short that it could only be bad gunnery, and while Ramage speculated whether he would see spurts of water from shot falling short, the French flagship fired a broadside, but wherever her shot fell she might as well have been pelting the
Victory
with snowballs for all the effect they had. By now the three enemy ships were sailing along in a bank of swirling smoke because the wind was so light that ships and smoke went along together.

But the range was closing fast and he saw that the
Victory
was passing through the line close under the stern of the
Bucentaure
. It was going to be a bad place, because another French 74 was very close astern of the
Bucentaure
while a third (she had sagged off to leeward) was just beyond the gap, ready with a broadside.

Suddenly the three enemy ships were firing at the
Victory
and the
Téméraire
; a moment later – or so it seemed – the
Victory
had steered under the
Bucentaure
’s stern and, from smoke wreathing up from her bow and the clouds of dust now drifting across the French flagship’s stern, had raked her with the great 68-pounder carronade on the larboard side of her fo’c’sle. Ramage could imagine dozens of grapeshot sweeping along the length of the
Bucentaure
, cutting men down in swathes,

Within five minutes the whole section of the enemy line of battle was hidden in clouds of twisting and swirling smoke as the
Leviathan
and
Neptune
broke through. Well beyond, the leading ships of Admiral Collingwood’s column – the
Royal Sovereign
,
Belleisle
,
Mars
and
Tonnant
– smashed their way through and, like those in Nelson’s column, immediately turned to larboard, to steer parallel with the enemy ships.

“What a sight! What a sight!” Southwick kept muttering. “Oh, why couldn’t I be the master of the
Victory
!”

“It’s worked, sir!” Aitken exclaimed. “The wind held up for His Lordship!”

“It needs to hold on a bit longer to bring up the rest of the ships,” Ramage said grimly, “Otherwise the odds against Lord Nelson and Admiral Collingwood will be five to one…”

“Seems strange to be out here while all the fighting is going on over there, sir,” Aitken said. “By the way, did you see that French frigate to leeward of their line?”

“Yes,” Ramage said, “She’s a sister ship of the
Calypso
, unless I’m much mistaken.”

“It’s hard to make out her sheer with all these ships of the line in the way, but that’s the impression I get.”

“Oh, she is, sir!” Orsini exclaimed “I saw her clearly through the gap between two ships!”

“You’re not supposed to be listening,” Aitken said sternly, and then demanded: “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Orsini insisted, “The frigate to leeward of the
Santissima Trinidad
. She’s just like us – except for our yellow strake, of course. The other four French frigates have flatter sheers, and the masts are differently spaced.”

“Mr Aitken,” Ramage said, his voice as casual as he could make it, “have grapnels rigged from the ends of the yards, and three or four ready here at deck level.”

Southwick looked at him quizzically. “If you burn wet powder, you get plenty of smoke.”

“Yes, I haven’t forgotten.” He turned and pointed to the tubs of water beside the aftermost carronades, round the edge of which slow match burned. “Have those tubs hauled over against the taffrail and send three seamen down to the magazine for cartridges.”

“Orsini,” Ramage said sternly, “you are far too busy to observe any signals. The
Victory
won’t make any to us – she can’t even see us with all the smoke – but the
Euryalus
can…”

“I understand, sir,” Orsini said with a grin. “I’ll give them a hand shifting those tubs.”

“Stunsails, sir?” Aitken murmured questioningly.

Ramage looked aloft, where topmen were now busy at the ends of the yards, coils of rope over their shoulders, securing the grapnels. The stunsail booms would have to be run out and the stunsails themselves manhandled up from the sail room. He then looked across at the enemy’s line of battle.

Ramage shook his head. “There’s no time. We wouldn’t have them drawing before we’d be cutting them away.”

He looked across at Southwick. “I want all the leather buckets lined up along the taffrail, full of water. And give the deck an extra wetting.”

He inspected the enemy line of battle. Even in the few minutes he had used giving orders, the situation had already changed: looking along the line from the van, the
Neptune
had broken through and rounded up almost alongside the
Santissima Trinidad
; the
Conqueror
, following her, had rounded up to leeward of the
Bucentaure
; the
Leviathan
, passing through the line, was about to run alongside the French 74 that had been well to leeward of the rest; the
Victory
was alongside the fourth French ship – he could just make out her name in the drifting smoke, the
Redoutable
, which was squeezed between her and the
Téméraire
.

There was not much space, but if one was fast enough…if the wind held… “Something must be left to chance…”

“Mr Aitken,” he said, “as far as I can see the
Britannia
is going to pass through the line in the wake of the
Leviathan
. We’ll pass through in the
Britannia
’s wake.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Airken said, but added: “That means we shall pass the
Victory
fairly close on our starboard hand.”

Ramage nodded. “I doubt if anyone will be looking out for us. Anyway, the smoke is so thick–” he gestured at the thick clouds now rolling like dirty fog along the line of ships, in places as high as their mastheads, “–we’d never be able to distinguish flag signals…”

By now the heavy drum-roll of broadsides was echoing across the water like thunder from an approaching summer storm. Occasionally there was the thud of a single gun as some gunner twitched his trigger line accidentally, but the broadsides were almost continuous.

“A point to starboard,” Aitken told Jackson, who repeated the order to the four men at the wheel: four now not because there was any weight on the spokes with this light wind but because some of them might be cut down.

“Get Kenton, Hill and Martin up here,” Ramage said. Lord Nelson’s plan for breaking the line in two places, cutting off the van, seemed to have worked. Surprise: His Lordship had done the unexpected. Now Captain Ramage was going to try the same tactics. The scale would be vastly smaller but the principle was the same.

With the three lieutenants standing beside Aitken, all looking startled at having been suddenly called up to the quarterdeck from their division of guns, Ramage said:“There’s hardly any time.” Quickly he outlined his plan for the
Calypso
and then said: “So the three of you–” he indicated the junior lieutenants, “–will go back and assemble boarding parties.

“You, Kenton, will board and take the fo’c’sle. Cut all sheets and braces you can lay your axes to. Hill, you do the same amidships but you’ll need to pick fifty men – you’ll have all the French guns’ crews to deal with. Take five extra men and give them axes: they
must
cut sheets and braces.

“Martin, you’ll take fifty men and secure the quarterdeck. Detail five men to seize the wheel make sure they have pistols and cutlasses. And don’t forget, sheets and braces. Right, off you all go!”

As the three lieutenants hurried away both Aitken and Southwick said in unison: “What about me, sir?”

“You remain in command of the
Calypso
,” Ramage told Southwick, who groaned theatrically.

“Look here,” Ramage said angrily, “I’m not having a debate about this every time we go into action. There’ll be you and less than fifty men to beat off any attempt by the French to board
us
. Oh no, don’t sneer at the idea. That’s the best defence the French have, if they only realize it.”

Aitken, watching the smoke rolling along the enemy line and keeping an eye on the
Britannia
, looked questioningly atRamage. “You’ll come with me,” Ramage said. “The Frenchman’s quarterdeck. Watch out for Martin’s men and remember, we’re interested in securing the wheel.”

Ramage realized that Jackson was looking at him, pleadingly. “All right then, if you can get word to your relief, you can come with me!”

Jackson promptly shouted to a passing seaman, who then hurried down the quarterdeck ladder. Ramage turned to the Marine lieutenant. “Ah, Mr Rennick: a change in plans. There’s a French frigate the other side of this smoke that interests us. You should put half your Marines under Sergeant Ferris and tell them to help secure the enemy’s waist: Hill will be going across with fifty seamen, but most of the French guns’ crews will be there. You take the other half yourself and make for the quarterdeck. You’ll find Mr Aitken and myself strolling round somewhere up there, along with Martin and fifty seamen. Is all that clear?”

Rennick gave a wolfish grin and hitched round his sword. “Absolutely, sir: my men are getting bored just watching the battle.”

Ramage thought of the boredom of twice daily parades when the Marines marched and countermarched, musket butts clattered amid showers of pipeclay and heels stamped. And they were bored watching the greatest sea battle – or rather the opening rounds of it. No, it wasn’t possible. Then he realized that the men were bored not with the sight but the fact they could not join in: each of the Marines had the soul of a butcher imprisoned in a spectator…

At last he could look ahead again. Yes, the
Calypso
was tucked in nicely astern of the
Britannia
. The
Santissima Trinidad
had the
Conqueror
raking her stern and the little
Africa
raking her bow, while the
Neptune
was pouring in broadsides from leeward. The
Bucentaure
was firing broadsides into the approaching
Ajax
but any moment the
Britannia
would start raking her from astern. To leeward of the
Bucentaure
the French
Neptune
, heading east at right-angles to the line of battle, was exchanging broadsides with the
Leviathan
while the
Victory
was the first ship in a row – she too was heading east, almost alongside the
Redoutable
, which in turn was alongside the
Téméraire
, which was pouring broadsides into the
Fougueux…

But all that really mattered to the
Calypso
was that the gap between the
Bucentaure
and the
Victory
was wide, and the
Leviathan
was on the French
Neptune
’s larboard side. The
Calypso
’s sister ship was a mile away on the
Leviathan
’s larboard bow.

The
Calypso
caught a sudden puff of wind that did not reach the
Britannia
and she surged up on the three-decker. Ramage thought for a moment of Rear-Admiral the Earl of Northesk wondering why the
Calypso
frigate was following so close in his wake, but the Scotsman would probably assume she was acting under orders from the commander-in-chief.

That, he realized, was the advantage of doing the unexpected: everyone assumed you must have orders… And if he timed it right he would be able to stay on the
Britannia
’s larboard side as she passed the
Victory
to starboard so that no one would spot a little frigate apparently lost in the banks of smoke…