Ramage's Diamond

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As the Juno stretched close-hauled down the coast, making a bare five knots and with the Surcouf following in her wake two hundred yards astern, the headland formed by Diamond Hill was fine on the larboard bow. The wind was fluking round the peak and freshening. Ramage guessed that once they were out of the lee of the land it would probably be from the east-north-east.

Diamond Rock had just come in sight clear of the headland and Ramage could see La Créole a couple of miles beyond it, well placed to give Wagstaffe a clear view of the convoy approaching the Fours Channel from the east still unaware that two British frigates were coming down from the north-west.

Wagstaffe had made no more signals, apart from reporting that the convoy was following the coast. He must be confident that it would reach the trap of the Fours Channel just as the Juno and Surcouf arrived to spring it. Leaving him with the responsibility of timing the operation had put a heavy load on the shoulders of the Juno's former Second Lieutenant. At first it had worried Ramage that so young a man could wreck everything through carelessness or nervousness. But the young Londoner had impressed him at last evening's conference in the cabin: he had asked several questions that revealed a quick and lively mind, not nervousness or indecision.

Ramage looked astern once again. The Surcouf was a fine sight in the Juno's wake, topsails and topgallants filled in taut curves, her guns rows of stubby black fingers, pointing menacingly through the ports, her bow wave like a white moustache flowing up from the cutwater. Within half an hour the guns would be belching smoke, but for the moment gulls wheeled round her and flying fish flashed low over the water, silver darts aimed without targets.

The French merchant ships were presumably still in the same formation, probably three columns with three ships forming the middle one and two the outer, but the four frigates would no longer be surrounding them. The land covered the eastern side of the convoy from attack, and would continue to do so all the way up to Fort Royal, so one frigate would probably be ahead, one abreast the leading merchantmen, another abreast the last one, and the fourth astern. This meant that the Juno, beating through the Fours Channel to attack the convoy from ahead, would have to dodge two frigates to get at the merchantmen, and the Surcouf, going on to round the Diamond itself before tacking up to cut off the convoy's retreat, would have to deal with the other two.

Ramage looked round at Orsini. 'You have signal number thirteen bent on ready?'

'Aye, aye, sir,' he said, and added: 'Prepare for battle, sir.'

Ramage nodded. 'And the Diamond Rock's pendant and number 123?'

'Aye, aye, sir. To the Juno and Ramage batteries, special signal, Attack the enemy's convoy of merchant ships or transports.’

'Don't get them mixed up, then,' Ramage warned, 'so that you hoist the wrong one.'

The boy pointed to two different halyards. 'No chance of that, sir.'

'And don't mislay the signal book, in case I need to make a signal in a hurry.'

'No, sir,' the boy said patiently, and then grinned. ‘I doubt if you'll need to use number sixteen, though, Engage the enemy more closely.'

Ramage smiled, glad of the boy's confidence. 'No, the lads need no encouraging.'

He watched the steep cliffs, the shadows almost vertical. They were approaching the end of the headland rapidly now. In a few minutes the land would turn away sharply to the eastward and then curve in again like a huge sickle, the point being Diamond Hill headland, the blade the long beach of the Grande Anse du Diamant and the handle the two headlands at the far end. A mile off the tip of the sickle, like a clump of wheat that it was about to reap, was the Diamond Rock.

Southwick came up the quarterdeck ladder, his great sword at his waist, bushy hair poking out from beneath his hat like a half-squeezed mop and his nose bright red from sunburn. 'No sign of the Admiral then, sir?' He rubbed his hands. 'That means we certainly don't share the prize-money - apart from his usual eighth!'

'We might be glad to see him before the day is out,' Ramage said with unintended harshness.

'We'll go through that convoy like a knife through butter!' Southwick declared cheerfully. 'You'll see, sir.'

'They'll be dead to windward of us,' Ramage reminded him.

'And as you mentioned last evening, sir, they'll never expect us to dare to beat up through them. They'll be like a flock of hens waking up to find a fox in the coop!'

As both men talked, they watched the headland of Diamond Hill drawing abeam and Ramage was reminded of watching a theatre stage as a curtain was drawn back, slowly exposing the scenery and the players.

Wagstaffe by now had La Créole about two miles southeast of the Diamond Rock; from there he could reach up right into the middle of the convoy. Because La Créole was still flying the Tricolour, the moment the French saw the Juno and the Surcouf they would assume she was fleeing from them and seeking protection.

The men at the Juno and Ramage batteries on the Diamond could see both the British frigates coming down to the headland from the north-west and the French convoy creeping along the coast. 'Like a crossroads,' Ramage said to himself and only realized he had spoken aloud when Southwick swung round questioningly. 'I was thinking of the French coming up to this headland from the east while we're approaching from the north-west. Like two coaches approaching along sunken lanes and not seeing each other until they're almost at the crossroads.'

'Just one coach,' Samthwick corrected with a broad grin. 'We're the highwaymen!'

Now they could see clear across the great bight to Pointe des Salines at the southern end of the island that reminded Ramage of a boot. They were rounding the toe cap and could just see the heel with the instep still hidden.

'They must be sticking very close to the coast,' Southwick growled. 'I'd have thought we'd have seen the first of 'em by now.'

Ramage gestured to the end of the headland which was drawing aft at what seemed an alarming speed, but he knew it was only anxiety playing tricks with time.

'Deck there!' came a hail from aloft, 'a frigate on the larboard bow, sir, three miles or more, in line with the headland.'

And there she was, ringed in the telescope lens. He saw a second one beyond her just as the lookout hailed again. The first must be on the convoy's bow, the second on the quarter. Then he saw the third frigate, which was obviously leading the convoy and well ahead of it. The convoy was just at the beginning of the Fours Channel and the timing was perfect.

'Hoist our colours,' Ramage snapped at Orsini. That was the prearranged signal to Aitken that the Juno had sighted the French ships and could herself be sighted and identified. Ramage watched the three frigates closely. At any moment there should be a flurry of flag signals, warning that enemy ships were in sight. With any luck, while the French escort prepared to deal with the enemy La Créole would be getting in among them, apparently a welcome reinforcement but actually positioning herself to act as a Trojan horse.

‘I can see a merchantman now,' Ramage told Southwick, trying to keep his voice even. 'And another beyond her – the ships in the outer column. And another, and two beyond - the centre column ...'

With the wind coming free as they passed clear of the headland, Ramage watched the dog vanes. A glance down at the compass showed it trying to make up its mind between northeast and east-north-east.

'Close-hauled, if you please, Mr Southwick; we should be able to lay south-east comfortably!'

Southwick began bellowing into a speaking trumpet and as Jackson gave orders to the men at the wheel, carefully watching the luffs of the sails, seamen hauled at the sheets and braces, flattening in the sails. Astern the Surcouf was bearing away slightly on to a direct course for the Diamond Rock and Ramage realized that the French ship was faster than the Juno. Aitken would fetch the Diamond with the wind a point free, perhaps more. So much the better; she had farther to sail and the sooner she reached the Rock and rounded it to close off the eastern entrance of the Fours Channel the better,

By the time he looked back over the larboard beam the Fours Channel was in sight and there was the whole French convoy sailing towards him. There were three columns of merchant ships, as he had expected, with one frigate ahead, two out to seaward, and one astern. They were relying on the coast to protect the whole inshore side of the convoy. He must let them go on thinking that the land shielded them.

‘If we could only get between them and the beach ...’ Southwick murmured wistfully. 'Still, Wagstaffe timed it well. They're all just about in the Channel.'

'Not yet,' Ramage said. 'Another half a mile to go. They're just outside the range of the Juno and Ramage batteries. Give 'em ten or fifteen minutes.'

'But they might turn and bolt!' Southwick exclaimed anxiously.

'Come now, Mr Southwick,' Ramage chided, 'you don't really expect seven merchantmen to try to beat back to Pointe des Salines, do you?' He glanced astern and saw that the Surcouf would now be in sight of the French. 'Why should they be frightened of a couple of frigates when they're so near home and have a schooner coming along to help them!'

'Sorry, sir,' said Southwick with mock contrition. ‘I just can't stand the thought of those beggars getting away after all our preparations.' With that he picked up his telescope and looked at the Diamond. 'No sign of the Juno battery - just bushes.' He trained the telescope lower. 'I can just see the cave at the back of the Ramage battery but no sign of guns or men.' He swung the telescope round to the east. 'Wagstaffe’s tacked. He'll just be able to lay the tail of the convoy.'

Ramage, still watching the French frigates, saw a string of flags hoisted from the leading one. He cursed his lack of a French signal book: they had searched La Créole and La Mutine the moment they were captured, but there were no papers on board, not even a muster table. More flags were hoisted and all the frigates repeated them. A few moments later he realized that the second signal must have been to the convoy because the merchantmen were now beginning to bunch up, the outside ships closing in on the centre column. Instead of three columns of ships there was soon just a group, like seven sheep crowding together as a sheepdog circled them. More important, though, they stayed on the same course. They were coming through the Fours Channel . . .

The Juno, stretching south-east and sailing fast, was now half-way between the headland and the Diamond itself. The Surcouf had almost reached the Diamond and would soon be hauling her wind to round it and then tack north to get at the rear of the convoy. She might need a couple of extra tacks, but it would not matter; it would all serve to confuse the French.

The head of the convoy was at most a mile and a half from the Juno and, as best he could judge, just coming into the extreme range of the Diamond batteries. And the wind was strengthening: the Juno was beginning to slice up spray over her larboard bow and it was drifting aft in dancing rainbow patterns. The gun captains were putting aprons over the locks, small canvas bonnets that would keep them dry until the last moment.

What the devil were the French escorts going to do? At the moment the convoy and escorts were still sailing the same course, coming down into the Fours Channel and heading straight for the Juno. The only sign that they had seen the two British frigates was the two signals and the merchantmen bunching up.

A third signal was hoisted on board the leading frigate and he watched carefully. There were answering signals from the frigates only. Very well, they had received orders - but what were they going to do? He looked back at the merchant ships and stifled an oath of surprise. 'Just look!' he exclaimed unbelievingly to Southwick. 'Some of them are clewing up their courses! They're going to jog along under their topsails alone!'

'Just like all merchantmen,' the Master said cheerfully. 'If they were making five knots before, they'll make three now, if they're lucky. Our lads at the Diamond batteries must be rubbing their hands!'

'Are they acting under orders?' Ramage wondered aloud, and at the same moment saw more signals hoisted by the leading frigate. He watched carefully but none of the other frigates answered, so the signal must have been for the merchantmen.

The merchant ship leading the centre column let fall her courses again, as if in response to the signal, and was followed by her next astern, but the other merchant ships were still busy furling, obviously ignoring the order. A minute later the two centre-column ships clewed up their courses again, clearly anxious not to find themselves ahead of the rest.

By now the Surcouf had rounded the Diamond and tacked to the northwards and La Créole had tacked, too, as though trying to keep well up to windward of her pursuer and reach the safety of the convoy. Ramage pointed them out. 'I think we'll match the Surcouf tack for tack for the time being.'

As the Master snatched up his speaking trumpet, Ramage saw that the leading frigate was altering course slightly, as though intending to sail the convoy through the precise centre of the Fours Channel. Obviously the French captain had decided on the change to keep both British frigates on his larboard bow. It was a good move from his point of view because it left the convoy still covered by the coast to the north.

'Belay that!' Ramage called to Southwick, 'we'll stay on this tack!' He wanted to be sure that all the ships in the convoy followed the leading frigate, and the Juno tacking might scare them off. Their new course would take them half-way between the headland and the Diamond and would reduce the range for the Diamond batteries to half a mile. It would also leave a wider gap between the convoy and the coast.

Southwick rejoined him and saw what was happening. 'The Rock's a magnet for them,' he said.

Ramage shook his head. ‘I think he knows about the current and is afraid the merchantmen under topsails alone will get swept too close to the headland.'

'What's he going to do with those other two frigates, sir?'

'I'm damned if I know. He made them a signal which they answered, but they're still keeping station.'

Southwick gestured towards the Surcouf. ‘Just look at her, sir, she's eating up to windward. She's at least a knot faster than us.'

'A point which hasn't escaped Aitken,' Ramage said wryly, and began to recast his plans slightly. Two unexpected things had happened. First the French merchantmen had obligingly reduced sail and cut the convoy's speed, and second the Surcouf was not only proving faster to windward than he had expected, but she was pointing higher. On this tack, unless the convoy altered course, Aitken could actually intercept the convoy, sailing into the middle of it, instead of arriving astern of it to cut off its retreat.

Ramage began rubbing the scars over his brow and the moment Southwick noticed it he made a mental note not to interrupt the Captain's thoughts. Rubbing the scar meant concentration and perhaps a sudden change of plan. From past experience it resulted in something even more desperate than originally intended but usually more effective. He tried to guess what it would be.

At the moment Southwick thought that the situation was more or less as they had anticipated. The convoy was beginning to come through the Fours Channel towards them; the Surcouf was well round the Diamond and heading up towards the convoy to shut the escape door; La Créole was almost up to the rear of the convoy. Wagstaffe was making another tack, which was unnecessary unless he was trying to waste time until the Juno and the Surcouf were in position. The convoy had reduced speed and the leading French frigate was going to bring them through the middle of the Fours Channel.

Southwick shrugged his shoulders. The original plan had been for the Juno to try to fight her way through the leading frigates to get at the merchantmen while the Surcouf did the same from astern, with La Créole doing her best to get into the middle and use her nimbleness to savage the merchantmen like a stoat running amok in a hen run. That seemed good enough to Southwick, particularly when the Diamond batteries joined in.

Ramage looked round for Orsini. 'Give me the signal book and stand by.'

He thumbed through the pages. Making a signal which gave a precise order was frequently difficult for a captain or admiral who wanted to do something out of the ordinary. There were nearly four hundred signals in the book, ranging from Engage the enemy more closely to The ship has sprung a leak, from Send boats tomorrow morning for water, for fresh beef, or for any other supplies of which the ship may be in need to The physician of the fleet is to come to the Admiral.

For all that, he was going to have to use two separate signals to give his new order to Aitken. The problem was that the new order was not a complete change. The Surcouf was still to attack the convoy, but not from the rear: Aitken was to attack the middle of the convoy from the seaward side. Signal number 33 said Engage the centre of the enemy, but might be misunderstood by Aitken as meaning that he was also to attack the frigates which, forming a half circle round the convoy on his side, would immediately close up to drive him off. No, Ramage had to make it clear that the English frigate's target was stil the merchant ships, Very well, there would have to be two signals. The first would be number 22, Attack the enemy's convoy of transports or trading ships, followed immediately by number 33, Engage the centre of the enemy.

He looked across at the convoy. It was also time to make the agreed signal for the Diamond and indicate to them that their orders were unchanged.

'Orsini, hoist number 13.'

'Number 13, Prepare for battle, sir,' the boy said, running to the halyard,

Ramage gestured to one of the four men to leave the wheel and give him a hand, and watched the Surcouf acknowledge.

He then said carefully to the boy; 'Now the Surcouf's pendant, and then two signals, number 22, and number 33.'

‘Aye, aye, sir,’ said the boy, repeating the meanings. Ramage nodded and prayed that the Diamond batteries would not be so excited that they did not notice that the second signal was addressed only to the Surcouf.

'We’ll tack now, Mr Southwick,' he said and tried to look at the Surcouf. The Master had heard him tell Orsini the signals and was obviously puzzled as he walked to the quarterdeck rail with his speaking trumpet. In a few moments more Aitken would not be puzzled: he would know that he had to keep the Surcouf on the same tack and heading for a point, at the moment unmarked, where the frigate and the convoy would meet. Then, whatever the French frigates did to try and stop him, he must luff up or bear away, tack, wear, or do anything else that let him dodge the escorts and break through to attack the centre of the convoy.

What would Aitken think? Ramage knew it did not matter, because the battle had to be fought, but the young Scot might think that, at the last minute, his senior officers had left him the desperate part of the fighting, ordering him to make a suicidal attack.

Would Aitken realize that he was now being ordered to attack the centre of the seaward side of the convoy so that at his approach two, and possibly three, of the frigates would bear up to fight him off, leaving only the leading frigate to drive off the Juno as she beat up through the Channel? Would he see what would happen if the Juno managed to avoid the leading frigate and suddenly attacked the convoy from the landward side? It would be a massacre, but by then the Surcouf would probably be a shambles. For a moment Ramage sympathized with an admiral with his flagship in the centre squadron who ordered the van or the rear squadron to make some apparently unexpected and dangerous attack and stayed in safety himself. Men would die and never know that they had been part of a larger plan. They might guess it, of course, because an admiral was responsible for the whole fleet, but how about the senior of two commanding officers, like himself and Aitken? How could Aitken be sure that Ramage was not deliberately giving him orders that would take the worst of the fighting off the Juno and leave most of it to the Surcouf?Aitken might have to fight off two or perhaps three frigates.

The Juno was now swinging round on the other tack; the helmsmen were turning the wheel, sheets and braces were being trimmed, and Ramage bent over the compass, shading it from the glare of the sun. He glanced up at Jackson, who nodded: the Juno was now sailing as fast and as close to the wind as possible, at right angles to the convoy's course. The lubber line on the compass was steady on north.

He looked across at the convoy, now broad on the Juno's starboard bow. The Surcouf had acknowledged his signals and he could see that she would be able to lay at the centre. But what the devil were the French frigates going to do? It looked as though they were going to stay in their present positions in relation to the convoy. Putting himself in the senior French captain's place, he was sure the plan at the moment was for the nearest two frigates to drive off the nearest enemy, without attempting to capture or destroy it.

From the French point of view this made sense: Fort Royal Bay was less than ten miles away round the Diamond headland. Four French frigates had only to keep two British frigates at bay for three hours - less, if they could persuade the merchantmen to set more canvas - and they would all be safe and have carried out their task of getting provisions to Martinique.

The colours, he thought irrelevantly: the almost harsh blue of the tropical sky, the deep blue of the sea which lightened as it closed the shore and, like the edge of a rainbow, merged into pale green along the sand of the beach. The inside of the Juno's bulwarks was a deep blood red; the guns shiny black and the sails aloft not the white of poems and songs but a faint tan, what an artist had once described as raw umber with a touch of burnt sienna.

Looking across at the convoy he was startled at the nearness of the leading frigate. It would be difficult indeed to explain that he had been attacked unawares because he was considering how much raw umber was mixed with burnt sienna ...

Then he saw two separate signals being hoisted in the French frigate. The Surcouf was a mile away from the seaward frigate. Any minute now he expected to see smoke pouring from them as they tried the range. Ramage was just estimating that the leading frigate was perhaps half a mile from the Juno when he saw all three frigates answering the signals.

Almost at once the frigates at the rear and on the quarter bore away slightly, obviously intending to drive off the Surcouf, while the leading frigate made a bold turn to starboard, to prevent the Juno getting between the convoy and the shore. The frigate which had stayed abreast of the leading ships now moved up to take the leading frigate's place at the head of the convoy.

'Most interesting,' Ramage heard a voice comment quietly, and he turned to find Bowen watching.

'It's our move,' Ramage said crisply, 'and perhaps a chessmaster like yourself can see it.' There were two or three minutes to spare and after that the pieces would start moving across the board with startling speed and confusion,

The Surgeon was shaking his head. 'No, sir, this isn't quite my kind of game.'

Ramage gestured to Southwick, to make sure he was ready for the Juno's next move. 'Remember your bishops, Mr Bowen,' he said with what seemed to the Surgeon a devilish, grin. 'The unexpected diagonal attack.'

The Master laughed drily and fingered the speaking trumpet. 'Aye, sir, the bishop might do it. Checkmate in three moves!'

The French frigate was turning even more inshore now as the Juno crossed ahead of the convoy and Ramage thought she would try to rake the Juno, firing her broadside into the British frigate's unprotected; bow. Every yard the French frigate sailed took her farther from the convoy, every yard she held on, hoping for that raking broadside, increased Ramage's chances of succeeding with his bishop's move. He glanced at Bowen and nodded towards the companionway. 'I know you'd like to watch, but you must stay alive to tend the casualties.'