Winds of Folly (26 page)

The ship's boats consisted of the Captain's barge, the launch, two cutters and the jolly boat. Normally, in a calm sea, they would be towed behind the ship, but in the
Unicorn
's guise as an Austrian merchant trader, all except the jolly boat had been stowed in the waist and covered with canvas. It would take some time to get them into the water and it were best done while there was still some light in the sky. Crammed to the gunwales, the boats could carry about 120 men between them. A large corvette of twenty guns or more would carry about the same number, but most of the French crew would still be asleep below decks – provided the
Unicorn
reached the bay before dawn.

The first lieutenant, of course, begged to be allowed to lead the attack, but Nathan was of a different mind.

‘I am sorry,' he said, with entirely bogus regret, ‘but I have had the advantage of seeing where she lies in daylight.' This was not the only reason. Duncan was a solid and reliable officer but he was not the man to be leading an attack in small boats off an unknown coast in the darkness. ‘I will take Mr Tully as second-in-command,' he said, ‘and Lieutenant Whiteley with his Marines.'

‘And I beg you will allow me to accompany you, sir,' Spiridion said, ‘for I know the coast well hereabouts – and I fought against Turks and Barbary pirates in my time.'

‘It will be an honour,' Nathan assured him with a bow, though for all his Turks and pirates, he had no wish to see the
British Consul killed by Frenchmen while under his command.

But there was one other decision he had to make – and it was more difficult.

‘I intend to take George Banjo,' he informed the first lieutenant privately.

Duncan frowned. ‘I cannot advise it, sir,' he replied. ‘In the interests of discipline …'

‘Even so,' Nathan interrupted briskly. ‘Banjo is worth five men in a boarding party. It is absurd to leave him chained in the orlop when we need every man we have got.'

‘Very well, sir, but I believe we must inform Mr Bailey.'

‘Then be so good as to send him to me.'

Bailey, of course, took it badly. ‘With respect, sir, I must register an official protest,' he complained stiffly when his Captain's decision had been put to him.

‘I appreciate your concern,' Nathan told him, ‘and I will note it in my report, but I am persuaded it is in our best interest. He will be returned into custody as soon as the operation is over. And by way of compensation you may command the large cutter – I cannot say fairer than that.'

He was not sure if the officer regarded this as a reasonable exchange but it gave some small satisfaction to Nathan.

‘Fetch Banjo here,' he told Gabriel, when Bailey was dismissed. ‘I would have a few words with him in private.'

When he went on deck the men were already armed to the teeth with the usual array of boarding pikes, cutlasses and axes – but no guns. Nathan would take no chances of issuing firearms to the crew for fear of alerting the corvette to their approach with an accidental discharge. He took his own pistols, though, which had caps to prevent such a misfortune and to keep the powder dry, and of course the Marines had their muskets and bayonets. Banjo, he noted, had armed himself with his favourite weapon – a machete he had brought from
the swamps of Louisiana with a blade that had been honed to a razor sharpness. He looked none the worse for his incarceration in the orlop deck, but Nathan caught him looking at Mr Bailey once with an expression he did not at all care for while testing the blade with his thumb.

The wind dropped a little after midnight and despite Spiridion's assurance it had fallen away altogether long before dawn. At a little after six bells in the middle watch, Nathan ordered the men into the boats and they left the
Unicorn
becalmed in the middle of St George's Bay. They rowed on in line ahead, led by the Captain's barge, towards the dark hump of Paleokastritsa, with its ancient monastery and the ruins of a Byzantine fortress high on the cliffs. It was a bright, starlit night and when they reached the headland they could see the corvette still in her position off the opposite point. But if the French kept any kind of a lookout they would be able to see them just as clearly as they crossed the mouth of the bay. It would be safer to stay close inshore against the dark backdrop of cliffs, even though it would add another couple of miles to their journey. So they muffled the oars and rowed on, across the narrow mouth of Spyridon Cove and round the long curve of the bay to Kassiópi, where Nathan let them rest while he viewed the enemy at close quarters and made his final plans for the attack.

The
Jean-Bart
was moored by the head, about two cables' lengths off the end of the point. She had lights at her stern and masthead and she had taken the precaution of rigging nets against boarders. Her gunports were closed, however, and Nathan could see no sign of life on the decks. His initial plan had been to seize the quarterdeck and the forecastle, cut the cable and send the men aloft to loose the topsails. Then, even if the French continued to fight on, they could steer the corvette out to sea under the guns of the
Unicorn
. But they had left the
frigate hove to in St George's Bay. They would have to overcome the entire crew and then tow the corvette back along the coast. Their best chance of success, he figured, was to secure the quarterdeck and forecastle and turn the ship's own cannon against the men in the waist. He had taken the precaution of bringing cartridge and powder and several bags of grapeshot in boxes in case none were kept near the guns.

He explained this plan to the officers as the boats nuzzled together off the headland. Then they made their final approach.

They were within half a cable's length before they heard the first shouts of alarm, and they covered the last few yards in a frantic dash with no attempt now at hiding their intent. Nathan led his barge and the two cutters straight for the quarterdeck with most of the Marines, while Tully made for the forecastle with forty men in the launch and the gig. They reached the side without a single shot being fired, but there was an inevitable delay while they hacked their way through the anti-boarding nets. Then they poured aboard with wild yells.

There was little resistance on the quarterdeck. Two or three of the crew had taken up belaying pins but they threw them down when they saw the press of armed men swarming aboard. An officer came rushing up sword in hand, but he was swiftly cut down by half a dozen men with pikes and axes. Others battened down the hatch and secured the companion leading down to the Captain's cabin. But then a great flood of Frenchmen came pouring up out of the hatches in the waist, including a number of soldiers armed with muskets and bayonets. Whiteley had his Marines lined up on the rail pouring a disciplined volley down into them, but the fire was swiftly returned, and there seemed to be a desperate struggle going on up in the forecastle where Tully had boarded with his own contingent.

Nathan had made straight for the foremost gun on the
quarterdeck with Banjo and Michael Connor, the two biggest men in the crew, and the Angel Gabriel at his back. It was a 6-pounder as he had expected, nothing like the big 18-pounders aboard the
Unicorn
, but it still weighed a good 3 hundredweight, and it took all four of them to cast it loose from the muzzle and lever it round with crowbars to face down into the waist. It was already loaded, as was normal in wartime, with a lead apron over the touch hole to prevent accidental ignition, and Nathan noted with relief that everything else was laid out in tubs next to it – handspikes, sponges and worms, wads and matches, even a powder horn and a lantern. But no cartridges or spare rounds.

Nathan looked about the deck – a certain number were usually kept in special holes drilled in the hatch coamings, but in the darkness he could see no sign of them. Possibly they only sent up for them from the magazine when they were clearing for action. He could not tell if the gun was presently loaded with round shot or grape, but the quickest way to find out was to fire it, and he was about to do so when the door of the companion flew open and a number of men came rushing up on to the quarterdeck led by an officer with a brace of pistols. He discharged them straight at the men at the 6-pounder and Connor fell back across it with a smoking wound in his chest. Nathan drew his own pistols but before he could fire the officer was upon him with his sword. He ducked under one wild slash but slipped on Connor's blood, and he was sprawling on the deck with the officer poised to run him through when Banjo stepped up and took the man's head off at the neck with one slash of his machete. Nathan scrambled to his feet, wiping the blood from his eyes, while Banjo and Gabriel laid about them like berserkers. There was a savage hand-to-hand struggle going on all over the quarterdeck now. Spiridion had his back to the helm fighting off two men with a sword in one hand and
an axe in the other. Bailey was calling on the men to rally round him at the stern. Whiteley still had his Marines at the rail but back-to-back now, fighting to keep the French pinned down on the quarterdeck while other of the ship's complement engaged them from the rear. Nathan found the slow match burning on the deck and he stepped up to the gun again and put it to the touch hole.

The cannon turned out to be loaded with round shot and the effect was disappointing, but they reloaded with cartridge and grape brought up from the barge while the fighting continued all around them. The second discharge was far more effective. The grape cut a huge swathe through the crowded deck and it was followed a few seconds later by a second salvo from up forward where Tully had finally gained control of the forecastle. When the smoke cleared Nathan stared down at a waist that seemed to be full of dead and dying men.

Whiteley wheeled his Marines about and they advanced across the quarterdeck with their bayonets, driving the remaining Frenchmen before them to the stern. Several leaped overboard and struck for the shore. The rest threw down their arms. The officer Banjo had killed turned out to be the Captain, and the only officer they could find unwounded was a young ensign who gave Nathan his sword.

They herded the prisoners down into the orlop deck and Nathan headed straight down into the Captain's cabin and blew open the safe with one of his pistols. Their surprise had been so complete that the code book and the Captain's orders were still there, and he stuffed them into his coat pocket to read later. When he went back on deck there was a pale light in the sky and they could see a huddle of people watching them from the headland. There was still not a breath of wind.

‘Get the men into the boats,' he instructed Tully. ‘They will have to tow us out. The Marines may stay aboard,' he told
Whiteley, ‘but they must take a turn at the capstan and haul in the cable.'

‘And the wounded, sir?' Nathan looked about him. There appeared to be a dreadful number of corpses lying about the decks and the wounded among them, many crying out for help, French and British together.

‘They must have had a doctor aboard,' Nathan said. ‘Ask among the prisoners and send him up with four or five members of the crew. And we had better have as many of our own men with them.' He cursed himself now for not thinking of this before, and bringing the
Unicorn
's doctor and his loblolly boys, but he had thought it would not be long before they were back aboard the frigate. ‘Perhaps you would be good enough to take over here,' he instructed Tully, ‘for I have business with the Consul below.'

He and Spiridion went through the Captain's orders together.

‘It is as I thought,' Nathan said. ‘They had orders to take soundings in all the major bays and harbours. Not only at Corfu but at Paxos and Zante.'

Spiridion scanned the document. ‘Do they give a reason?'

‘No, but I think we can guess.'

‘The French mean to seize the islands.'

‘A bigger question is why,' mused Nathan.

‘It would mean war with Venice.'

‘I do not think that would trouble them overmuch, but it would certainly interest the Venetians if they knew.' Nathan ran his fingers through his hair and encountered a sticky mess of blood. He frowned and looked about the cabin. The French had not had time to clear for action and he availed himself of the pitcher and bowl on the Captain's dresser. There was even a mirror, he noted with interest. Sometimes he thought he had joined the wrong Navy. While he was thus engaged, Spiridion
had applied himself to the wine store and poured two full glasses from what proved to be a hearty claret.

‘I have a mind to go to Venice,' Nathan announced when he had finished his ablutions.

Spiridion looked startled. ‘What good would that do?'

‘Well …' Nathan considered. ‘I might find out what has happened to the British Ambassador. He might tell me what happened to Dandolo – and why. The Ambassador might have other friends in high places. We would appear to need them if the French have designs on the Seven Islands.'

‘A lot of mights for such a risk,' Spiridion observed. Then, after a moment's reflection: ‘It is possible they have made a deal.'

‘Who?'

‘The French and the Venetians. The Ionian Isles in return for peace.'

‘Is that likely?'

‘The French have a significant following in Venice, even among members of the government.'

‘Well, there is only one way to find out,' Nathan proposed.

‘There is never only one way to find out. For you to go to Venice would, in my view, be perfect folly.'

‘Why is that?'

‘Because Venice is crawling with French agents who would have you knifed the moment you stepped ashore. There are any number of
bravi
who would not think twice about killing an English officer – though they might ask for more than the going rate.'

‘I was thinking of posing as an American,' Nathan confided. ‘Their relations with the French have deteriorated somewhat of late but they are still counted as neutrals. Or do you not think that would make a difference?'