The Sea and the Sand Page 11

  ‘And again, hurrah,’ Decatur said. ‘We are going to fight at last.’

  *

  ‘We need more sail, Mr Decatur,’ Edward Preble said, ‘if we are going to take those fellows down before they gain shelter. Set your top-gallants.’

  ‘Aye-aye,’ Decatur acknowledged, and hurried forward to give the necessary orders.

  Preble had elected to transfer his pennant to the Essex for close work against the African coast — she drew considerably less than the far larger Constitution — and if this had entailed a great sharpening of discipline, it had also meant they were in the thick of whatever action was to be found, which was a most pleasant change.

  Standing beside the commodore, Toby swung his telescope from left to right. The four Tripolitanian ships they had sighted the previous evening, south of Malta, obviously totally surprised to find the American squadron at sea in November, were strung out in front of them in full flight towards the now visible shore. Behind them the three smaller American frigates were also sailing south as fast as they could, while Constitution prowled the northern horizon, Malta now long out of sight.

  But with every minute they were entering uncharted waters, for them; James Barron had never allowed his ships to approach this close to the dangerous sandbanks off the Libyan coastline.

  ‘Look at that gallant fellow Bainbridge,’ Preble said. ‘He outstrips us all. By God, sir, that is rank insubordination, to outsail one’s commodore.’ But he was clearly delighted.

  ‘The Philadelphia has fewer worms in her hull, perhaps, sir,’ Toby ventured.

  Preble shot him a glance. ‘Then we should travel even more quickly, Mr McGann, as where there are worms, there is surely less timber. That will do very nicely, Mr Decatur,’ he acknowledged, as the first lieutenant came aft, having set the fine-weather sails at the very tops of each mast.

  Preble looked aft, to where the President was bounding along in their wake; further back yet, the Enterprise schooner carried only her working canvas, and was almost hull down; armed only with a few light six-pounder guns, her business was fast scouting and the rapid transmission of despatches, not becoming mixed up in a fight.

  Toby continued to watch the fleeing pirates, and suddenly caught his breath. ‘Breakers, sir.’

  ‘Rocks?’

  ‘No, sir. I would say sand.’

  ‘To either side,’ Decatur commented.

  Preble levelled his glass. Now the pirates were almost blanketed from their view by the billowing canvas of the Philadelphia, directly ahead. But to either side of the American vessel could be seen the ripples of breaking water over the sandbanks. They were now within five miles of the coast, and the houses of Tripoli could clearly be seen.

  ‘Does Bainbridge not see them?’ Decatur muttered.

  ‘He reckons where the pirates can sail, so can he,’ Preble said.

  ‘Not necessarily, sir,’ Decatur argued. ‘Those fellows draw only a fraction of the water our ships require, and there will be bends in the channel which the pirates will anticipate, but which may well catch Captain Bainbridge unawares.’

  ‘Shall I signal recall, sir?’ Toby asked.

  Preble continued to stare at the Philadelphia, biting his lip. The frigate was now very close to the corsairs, and even as they watched her bow chasers exploded, and one of the pirate masts went by the board.

  ‘Noble fellow, Bainbridge,’ he said. ‘Oh, noble fellow. He knows no fear.’

  ‘He’ll still not catch them,’ Decatur said. ‘Sir, I most respectfully urge that you call him back.’

  Preble sighed. ‘It goes against the grain. Mr Decatur, the first thing we must do is put boats down and thoroughly chart that channel.’

  ‘That’ll bring the pirates back out to stop us,’ Toby said gleefully.

  ‘So it will, Mr McGann, so it will. Meanwhile …’ he shrugged. ‘Set the recall signal.’

  ‘Aye-aye,’ Toby said, and hurried to the signal halliards, where a midshipman waited, book in hand.

  ‘Supposing he’s looking behind him,’ Decatur said.

  ‘Well, it’s to be hoped he’s looking ahead of him. Shorten sail, Mr Decatur, and signal President to do the same, then prepare to anchor. As soon as Philadelphia rejoins us, we will … Great God in heaven.’

  The glasses came up again, but even with the naked eye it was possible to discern the catastrophe which had happened in front of them, as the cries of the sailors on the main deck and the forecastle testified. For the Philadelphia had come to a halt, while the fresh northerly breeze still filled her sails, and as they watched, her foretopmast went slumping down as if shot away, its sails a flailing mess.

  Toby and Decatur looked at the commodore, aghast.

  Preble continued to stare at the stranded vessel. What thoughts must be going through his mind Toby dared not consider. The United States Navy only possessed six frigates. And now one of them was stranded. Through Preble’s decision to order a general chase in the first place, and then through his fatal hesitation in ordering her recalled. Now, to get her off a sandbank in an almost tideless sea would require an immense effort, as well as certain knowledge of the surrounding water … and no adjacent enemies.

  ‘Can we tow her free, Mr Decatur?’ Preble asked in a low voice.

  ‘She drove on at speed,’ Decatur said. ‘And we would be working to windward in very narrow waters.’ He shrugged. ‘We have to attempt it, sir.’

  Preble chewed his lip some more. It was a horrifying decision to have to make. Send another of his precious ships in there to attempt to tow the Philadelphia to safety, or abandon her.

  ‘Heave to,’ the commodore said. ‘And anchor, as I have instructed. Signal President to do the same. Mr Decatur, you’ll prepare a boat party, well armed. We will cover you as far as we can, but those villains may well try to interfere with your activities. I want that channel sounded and surveyed and a plan made to bring Philadelphia out this evening. This is a most urgent matter, Mr Decatur.’

  ‘Aye-aye,’ Stephen cried, and slid down the ladder into the waist.

  ‘They’re coming back, sir,’ Toby said. Preble’s glass came up. ‘God,’ he said. ‘God!’ The Tripolitanian ships had come about, in complete confidence as there could be no doubt that they knew every inch of these waters. ‘God!’ he said a third time. For now it could be seen that there was a perfect armada of other craft, mostly small, some hardly larger than rowboats, but every one crammed to the gunwales with armed men, issuing from the distant harbour. The Tripolitanians knew they had the frigate at their mercy. ‘There must be several thousand of the rascals,’ Preble muttered. ‘Will our guns fetch them, Mr McGann?’ Toby licked his lips. But there was only one answer he dared give: the truth. ‘No, sir. We are two miles too distant, at the least.’

  Two miles through the sandbanks. ‘Then they will be overwhelmed before we can possibly assist them.’ Preble snapped his fingers in despair. ‘Set the signal to abandon ship, Mr McGann. And fire your bow chasers to make sure that Captain Bainbridge is aware of the order.’

  ‘Aye-aye.’ Toby hurried forward to carry out his instructions. But his belly seemed filled with lead, an increasing weight of despair as he stood on the foredeck, peering through the smoke of his guns, and watched the pirate vessels going alongside the Philadelphia. Even that order was going to be too late. The frigate’s cannons boomed and wreathed her in smoke, but, lying as she was, listing heavily to starboard, her big guns could only fire into the sky, or into the sand. There was considerable small arms fire as well, but the crew of the American ship could not hope to defend themselves against the enormous numbers opposed to them. And indeed, the firing was already slackening.

  As Preble recognised. Toby supposed this had to be the bitterest moment of the commodore’s life — in attempting to carry the fight to the enemy, as instructed by Congress, in contrast to the inactivity of Barron, he had in a single afternoon suffered more casualties than his predecessor had in three years. But he would not shirk the r
esponsibilities of his position and sacrifice yet more lives in a forlorn hope. ‘Mr Decatur,’ he called, as the boats were swung out. ‘Avast there.’

  ‘But, sir,’ Decatur protested.

  ‘Bring those boats back in, Mr Decatur,’ Preble repeated. ‘The Philadelphia is lost. Bainbridge is lost.’

  *

  It was not the first winter Toby had spent in the Mediterranean, but it seemed by far the coldest. He patrolled the quarterdeck of the Essex, wrapped in a heavy jacket, slapping his arms together to increase his circulation. The ship was anchored, but there was enough sea running to make her snub her cable with sharp jerks, and besides, it was very necessary to keep a sharp lookout in case the Tripolitanians decided to come out for a surprise assault. They had gained a great deal of confidence since their stunning victory of the previous year. They had even sent a boat out under a flag of truce, and their envoys had strutted the decks of the flagship, waxed moustaches bristling, beards thrust forward aggressively, jewelled fingers wrapped around the hilts of their scimitars, as they had presented their demands to the commodore. One hundred and nineteen sailors, they claimed, including Captain Bainbridge, lay in their prisons. And would lie there until they rotted, unless a ransom of sixty thousand dollars was paid.

  Toby thought Preble would burst a blood vessel as he stared at them. But the commodore replied in a controlled voice. ‘And the ship?’ he enquired.

  The head envoy, a tall, dark man with heavy features and a ferocious smile, who spoke perfect English and was, it appeared, the Vizier of the Dey himself, and who had introduced himself as Mohammed ben Idris, smiled. ‘The ship? Ah, no, Commodore Preble. The ship belongs to Tripoli. Such are the fortunes of war.’

  Preble’s fingers curled into fists, but he had still kept himself under control. ‘I will have to forward your demands to my Congress in Washington,’ he said.

  Mohammed ben Idris bowed. ‘May Allah speed your messengers.’ Another smile. ‘For the sake of your people in our prisons.’

  ‘Murdering cut-throats,’ Preble growled, as the felucca made its way back into the shallows.

  ‘At least they’ll get no joy from the ship,’ John Rodgers remarked. He had joined them in the Essex for the conference. Now he stared at the stranded Philadelphia.

  ‘I don’t agree,’ Decatur objected. ‘I would say they have already had a great deal of joy from her, and will have more.’

  They had all looked at the distant vessel, knowing he was right. The frigate still lay, listing to starboard, and another of her masts had gone overboard. She looked a total wreck, but there was no indication that her hull had been in any way damaged by the soft sand. Certainly she had been already looted of all her guns, the small, shallow-draft Tripolitanian boats being able to get right alongside, while there had been hundreds of eager hands to man blocks and tackles and swing the huge pieces of metal out on to their decks. Since then the work had become even more intense, as the pirates, no doubt utilising slave labour, could be seen at work dredging a channel away from the sand to deeper water.

  ‘They mean to refloat her,’ Decatur asserted.

  ‘Can they do it, gentlemen?’ Preble asked. ‘Can they?’

  ‘Given sufficient time, yes, sir,’ Decatur said. ‘Now they have lightened her by removing her stores and ordnance, it is entirely practical. Certainly once they get that channel dug. Sir, may I respectfully …’

  ‘Yes, Mr Decatur,’ Preble said. ‘I am giving the matter much thought. But to destroy an American warship, ourselves …’

  ‘There is also the matter of the crew,’ Rodgers said. ‘If we assault the ship, supposing we can, will that not be to sign Bainbridge’s death warrant? And all his people?’

  ‘They are American sailors and officers,’ Decatur said stiffly. ‘They will have no doubts as to their duty.’

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Preble interrupted. ‘Squabbling amongst ourselves will accomplish nothing. We will have to see how they progress, and make our decision when it becomes necessary. Meanwhile, we will despatch the Dey’s ransom demand by all possible haste to Paris and thence Washington, and hope for an early reply. And add our recommendations. If they would send me a military force to undertake a land assault while we came in from the sea …’ He sighed. He knew Congress would never send an American army overseas, just as he was now realising that this was an impossible war to win with merely a handful of frigates.

  ‘You are yet speaking of a couple of months before we can hope to have a reply,’ Rodgers pointed out.

  ‘I’m afraid I am,’ Preble agreed. ‘But we can do nothing more except wait and watch, and by remaining here, gentlemen, make sure that nothing and no one uses this port. Or the Philadelphia.’ His smile was grim. ‘I am afraid I can wish you no very jolly Christmas, gentlemen.’

  Nor had it been a jolly Christmas, several weeks ago. The Enterprise had ploughed back and forth between Sicily and their station, bringing occasional mail and replenishments of fresh food and water, but the two frigates had kept the sea at the mouth of the channel, watching and waiting and hating their helplessness more than their enemies. But they hated the Moors, too. Mohammed ben Idris, Toby thought, as he peered into the darkness and listened to the wind howling in the rigging. The Vizier had seemed to sum up all of his feelings about the Moors, in his arrogant awareness of his power, of the victory his people had gained by a lucky stroke. At least the weather in the New Year had been so unfailingly bad there had been no question of them salvaging the Philadelphia. It revealed the extent of the protecting sandbanks that the frigate was still intact. This night was indeed the best for several weeks, with the wind no more than twenty knots, he estimated, and …

  ‘With respect, Mr McGann,’ said the duty midshipman. ‘There are lights over there.’

  Toby levelled his glass.

  ‘Do you think the Moors are coming out, sir?’ The boy’s voice was high with excitement. ‘To fight?’

  ‘No, by God.’ Toby closed his telescope with a snap. ‘Summon the commodore.’

  Preble was on deck a moment later, his greatcoat over his nightshirt, hurrying to the rail. ‘What is your estimation, Mr McGann?’

  ‘I would say they are attempting to float Philadelphia, sir,’ Toby replied. ‘Look, there is a cluster of lights, then a line of them, and then others at intervals all the way back into the harbour. The lights are bobbing, sir. They have their new channel marked with anchored boats, and are preparing to tow Philadelphia into Tripoli.’

  ‘By God!’ Decatur had joined them. ‘If they succeed in that …’ He glanced at the commodore.

  Preble’s voice was heavy with disappointment; once again he had underestimated the spirit of his enemies, had failed to accept that they might take a chance at the very first fine weather. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘They will have possession of one of the finest ships ever built.’

  ‘She’ll need to be re-rigged,’ Toby ventured. ‘That will cause them no great difficulty,’ Decatur said. ‘And they have the guns ashore already, and all the shot for them as well. You may be certain of that. Once they have her, armed and rigged and ready to put to sea …’

  ‘Aye,’ Preble said again. ‘There’ll be no stopping them.’ He sighed. ‘I had thought to make a quick end to this war. Now it seems I may have managed to lose it.’

  ‘What happened to the Philadelphia cannot possibly be considered your fault, sir,’ Toby objected.

  ‘Do you not suppose so, Mr McGann? I had signalled general chase on that fateful day. And I did not signal recall soon enough. And I am the commodore; whatever happens to my squadron is my responsibility. Well, gentlemen, we may as well turn in.’

  ‘Sir,’ Decatur stood to attention. ‘We cannot allow the Philadelphia to be taken into the Tripolitanian service. Even if it costs the lives of Captain Bainbridge and his people, and I doubt it will do that — these fellows are too anxious for money, and will await at least the outcome of their ransom demand — we yet have a clear duty greater than friendship to o
ur mates.’

  ‘I agree with you, Mr Decatur,’ Preble said. ‘But I do not see how we can retrieve the situation now. They have outmanoeuvred us. I know you have almost completed your survey of the outer channels, but to attempt them in the dark …’

  ‘I accept that, sir. It will be necessary to devise a new plan.’

  ‘What sort of plan?’

  ‘A ruse de guerre, sir. A single bold stroke. It will require courage of both the moral and physical variety. But it can be done. It must be done. If you will allow me to raise seventy volunteers.’

  ‘You’ll take me for a start,’ Toby said.

  Decatur clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I never doubted that.’ He looked at Preble. ‘And if you will but humour my proposition, sir …’

  Preble gazed at him, then at Toby, then looked at the distant lights where the Philadelphia was being refloated. ‘You had best come below, Mr Decatur,’ he said. ‘And explain to me what you have in mind.’

  CHAPTER 5

  The Mediterranean — 1804

  ‘Well, Felicity, what do you think of the Americans now?’ Mohammed ben Idris chuckled, and put his arm round the girl’s shoulders as he stood beside her on the battlements of the fortress overlooking Tripoli Harbour, gazing at the American squadron now hull down on the northern horizon. ‘They have finally admitted defeat. Now we can sleep easily in our beds again.’

  Felicity stared at the distant ships. Mohammed ben Idris often allowed her to walk here, on the battlements outside his private apartments — suitably veiled, of course — and from the very first time she had exercised that privilege the Americans had been there, at least one of them. By all accounts they had been there even before she had completed her journey across the desert from Algiers to … her home, she supposed it would now have to be called. Whatever had happened to her during the past three years, those ships had been a suggestion that she could yet hope to be rescued. She had even been surprised that it had not yet happened, when she remembered the way Thomas Truxton had accepted odds of nearly two to one to defeat La Vengeance …