Gervaise was up again at dawn. He was amused at the wonder of the
knights, as they came up one by one, at the sight of the little fleet
anchored outside them. As soon as it was fairly daylight, he sent off to
the three prizes to request all the knights to come on board the galley.
When all were assembled there he said, “You are all aware, comrades,
that Sir Fabricius Caretto has brought news that the galleys at Genoa
are all laid up, and that it will be a fortnight before they can put to
sea. Long before that, the corsairs will assuredly be ravaging all the
villages and small towns along the coast of Italy, unless we can prevent
their doing so. It would be simple madness to try to attack them at sea;
of that I feel sure you are all conscious. It would be only throwing
away our lives and our galley.”
There was a murmur of assent among the knights. They were ready for any
encounter in which there was a chance, however faint, of success; but
all saw that for a single galley to attack one of the largest corsair
fleets that had ever set out, would be nothing short of insanity. Their
leader's words, however, seemed to show that he had some plan in his
mind by which he hoped to strike a blow at the enemy, and all listened
eagerly for what was coming.
“We have heard from our comrade Fosco that their ships lie moored in two
lines, side by side in a narrow inlet. He has returned this morning with
the news that they are still there. He thinks that three or four more
have arrived during the last two days, and it is probable they are
waiting for the three we captured to join them. Tonight it is my
intention to attack them, but not by rowing in and boarding them, for
that would be hopeless. Yesterday Sir Ralph Harcourt went, as you are
aware, to fetch provisions. But this was a part only of the object of
his trip. He has, as you see, brought back eleven craft with him; these,
I may tell you, are laden with combustibles--pitch, oil, straw, and
faggots. They will be rowed and towed to the inlet tonight, set on fire,
and launched against the pirates.”
An enthusiastic cheer broke from the knights. They saw at once that,
lying as the corsairs were, side by side, the destruction of many of
them was certain.
“He has also brought fishermen,” Gervaise went on, “two or three of whom
will go in each fire ship, having a boat towing behind, in which they
will escape as soon as the craft are alongside the galleys. The galley
and the three prizes will take their post at the mouth of the inlet.
The fire of our guns will add to the confusion among the pirates, and we
shall endeavour to fall upon any galleys that may extricate themselves
from the mass, and try to make their escape. Sir Ralph has brought back
materials for making ninety mantles of the Order, for the Christians on
board the three prizes, and thirty fishermen to bring the crew of our
galley up to its full strength. The light of the flames will suffice
to show the pirates that, as they will believe, four vessels, manned
by knights of the Order, are barring the entrance. Many will, we may
calculate, jump overboard and swim ashore rather than face us, and we
shall be able, at any rate, to capture three or four of their craft,
for, as they come out, one by one, we can all close round them; and with
nearly fifty knights, ninety released captives, burning for vengeance,
and some fifty or sixty fishermen, for those from the fire ships will,
of course, join us--we shall make short work of them, and may even hope
to entirely destroy their fleet.”
Again a joyous shout rose from the knights. This would indeed be an
exploit that all might be proud to share in, and, breaking the ranks in
which they had stood while Gervaise addressed them, they crowded round
him with exclamations of enthusiasm and devotion.
“Now,” he said, as soon as silence was a little restored, “the knights
of the langues on board the prizes will send at once to the coaster on
the left of the other two. Sir Ralph will go there now, and supply each
with materials for making the mantles for the Christians; he has brought
thread, and fish bone needles. You will see that the stuff is cut up
into suitable lengths, and handed over to your crews, and that each man
makes up his mantle. There can be but little sewing required for these
sleeveless gowns, nor need it be carefully done. The great thing is that
the white crosses shall be conspicuous. As soon as you have set them
to work, you will examine the state of the arms, see how many more are
needed to complete the list, and then send off to Sir Ralph, who will
furnish as many as are required: the fishermen have brought their
own weapons. See that the slaves are all well fed today, and, before
evening, inspect well their fetters, so that you may be free from all
anxiety as to an attempt by them to escape during the conflict.
“The rest of you will go on board these native craft, and see that
the combustibles are fairly distributed among them, the wood and straw
soaked with pitch and oil, as also the sails and ropes, and that the
decks are well coated; this is a most important duty. Get some torches
made also, so that there shall be two on board each craft; these are to
be lighted the last thing before we get to the point, and will be thrown
down into the straw and faggots in the hold, by the fishermen when they
get close to the corsairs. All this can be prepared before our morning
meal, and when you assemble here I hope to receive your reports that
everything is in readiness. One of the other coasters has some bullocks
on board. Sir Ralph will send one to each of the prizes, and one to us.
They had better be killed and cut up at once, in order that the crews
may have two good meals today of fresh meat. See that the galley slaves
have their share.”
No time was lost in carrying out the orders. Ralph, as soon as the
cloth, arms, and meat were distributed, went round in a boat to see that
the combustibles were properly laid for firing, and everything done to
insure that the flames should spread rapidly. The Sards shared in
the work, and rations and wine were distributed to them; and when the
knights sat down to their meal on board the galley, they were able to
report that everything was in perfect readiness, and that the work of
sewing the mantles was making good progress.
The day passed slowly to the young knights, all of whom were burning
with excitement at the thought of the coming fray. The released
Christians were no less exultant at the prospect of taking vengeance for
the sufferings they had so long endured, and the scene on board all four
ships was most animated.
After talking it over with Ralph, Gervaise told off three more of the
knights to each of the prizes, so that there should be ten on board
each. This reduced the strength on board the galley to seventeen; but as
they would have the assistance of a strong band of Sards they considered
this to be ample, under the circumstances. It was arranged that the
galley, with one of the prizes, should close with the first corsair that
came out, and that the other two prizes should attack the second. After
capturing these, they were to assist each other as circumstances might
dictate. Gervaise strongly impressed upon the knights in command of each
prize that they were not, single handed, to attack a corsair unless one
of their consorts was near, and free to give assistance.
“We must run no risk of a reverse,” he said. “We are certain of
destroying many of their vessels and of breaking up their fleet, and it
is far better that a few should escape than that we should run the risk
of losing ten of our number, to say nothing of those we have rescued
from captivity. In the excitement of the fight this order must be
strictly borne in mind. Our victory must be marred by no misfortune
brought on by headstrong rashness. The corsairs are bound to be very
strongly manned, and ten knights, even aided by such assistance as
they may get from the Christians, might find themselves altogether over
matched against a crowd of desperate men.”
As soon as it was dusk the anchors were drawn up, and the fleet got
under way. They proceeded but slowly, for the wind was light, and the
fishing boats moved heavily through the water. There was, however, no
occasion for speed, for Gervaise did not wish to commence the attack
until past midnight. The guns had all been loaded before starting, and a
pile of ammunition was placed near each. Presently the wind nearly died
out, and the galley and prizes then took the coasters and fishing craft
in tow. It was nearly one o'clock when they got within half a mile of
the inlet. The tow ropes were then thrown off, the fishermen got out
sweeps, and the galley led the way, the fire ships followed in a body,
and the three prizes brought up the rear. The oars had all been muffled,
and slowly they made their way, until Fosco, who was standing next to
Gervaise on board the galley, said that the point just ahead marked the
entrance to the inlet. They then stopped rowing until the fire ships
were all close up.
These were, as had previously been arranged, in two lines. Five fishing
boats, each manned by four men and having its small boat in tow behind
it, formed the first line; the three coasters, each with six men at the
oars, and the three other fishing boats, formed the second. The torches
were now lighted. Ralph took his place in the centre boat of the first
line; Gervaise went on board one of the coasters, and the order was
given to the men to row. What wind there was was favourable, blowing
from the northwest, and therefore right into the inlet. Scarcely had the
first boats reached the entrance when a shout was heard.
“Row, men, your hardest now!” Ralph shouted; the Sards bent to their
oars, and the five boats advanced rapidly towards the corsairs. As they
did so, a babel of shouts and cries rose from the dark mass of ships,
which swelled into a tumult of alarm as on Ralph's order, “Throw your
torches into the straw!” a flash of flame leapt up from each boat. Five
more strokes, and they were alongside the two outside ships. As they
crashed heavily into them, the men leapt from their seats and sprang
over into the small boats, threw off the painters, and rowed astern,
opening on either hand to allow the second line of fire ships to pass.
These, by Gervaise's directions, divided, and three bore along on either
side of the corsairs, and then ran in among them, throwing grapnels to
fasten the fire ships alongside. Then, as the flames sprang up from the
holds, the crews betook themselves to their boats, and rowed out of the
inlet.
By the time they reached the galley and prizes, the eleven fire ships
were a mass of flame, which was spreading to the corsairs. Lying packed
together as these were, the confusion was terrible. Numbers of men
endeavoured to push off the fire ships, but it was too late; others
tried to extricate their galleys from the mass, throwing off the
hawsers, and striving with hand and oar to push their vessels out of the
line. As soon as the boats were alongside the galley, the guns of the
four vessels opened fire with grape into the crowded ships, now lit up
by the flames as clearly as at noontide, while the battle cry of the
Order sounded high above the din.
“Nothing can save the ships near this end of the line,” Ralph said, “but
some of those behind may make their way out between the others and the
rocks. I can see that some of them there are lowering their yards and
sails to prevent their catching fire as they pass.”
The knights distributed among the guns worked them incessantly,
directing their fire chiefly against the outside ships, so as to hinder
the crews in their endeavours to arrest the progress of the flames; but
they were soon able to fire impartially into the mass. As the heat of
the flames drove the pirates back, scores of men leapt overboard, and
made for the shore. Presently, two or three ships were seen making their
way along the narrow line of water on either side of the flaming group
in front. As the first advanced, the galley and one of the prizes rowed
a short distance forward to meet it. Its deck was crowded with men,
among whom a discharge of the cannon from both ships created terrible
slaughter.
A moment afterwards they closed with it, one on either side, and the
knights, the released captives, and the Sards, sprang down on to its
deck. The fight lasted but a minute. Appalled by the disaster that had
befallen them, by the terrible effect of the broadsides, poured in at a
few yards' distance, and by the sight of so many of the dreaded warriors
of the Cross, some of the corsairs threw down their arms and flung
themselves on the deck or into the hold, crying for quarter; those who
resisted fell either under the swords of the knights, the vengeful axes
of the late captives, or the pikes of the Sards; but the great bulk,
leaping from the bow or stern, swam ashore.
“Back to your ships!” Gervaise shouted, the moment resistance ceased.
“Leave her floating here; she will help to block the way.”
Six vessels alone managed to make their escape from the blazing mass of
ships, and all of these were captured almost as easily as the first had
been. As soon as it seemed that all the remainder were involved in
the flames, boats were lowered and sent on board the prizes to take
possession. Save for the wounded on the decks, they were entirely
deserted by their crews, as those who had run below, as soon as they
found that their captors had left the vessels, dropped into the water,
and made their way, either by swimming or with the assistance of oars,
to the shore. There remained only the slaves, chained to their benches.
A few of these had been killed by the broadsides; but the guns had been
aimed at the poops and forecastles, where the corsairs were clustered
together, and consequently the number of galley slaves who had fallen
was comparatively small.
In none of the galleys was the proportion of Christians anything like so
large as that in the three prizes first taken, the greater portion being
men of inland tribes who had been captured in warfare, or malefactors
who, instead of being executed, had been sold to the corsairs.
Nevertheless, in the six galleys some seventy Christians were found,
and at once freed. It was terrible to think that in the galleys that had
been destroyed a large number of Christians must have perished in the
flames, and Gervaise expressed bitter regret that he had not considered
that his attack by fire ships must necessarily involve the loss of so
many Christian lives.
“It can't be helped,” Ralph said, as Gervaise poured out his feelings to
him. “To very many of them death must have been welcome, and if we had
not attacked them as we did, and they had sailed for Italy, hundreds,
if not thousands, of Christians would have been killed, and as many more
carried away into captivity; so, you see, the balance is all in favour
of the course we adopted.”
Gervaise admitted this, but nevertheless his regret at the fate of
so many unfortunate captives quite overpowered for the time his
satisfaction at the complete success that had been achieved. The victory
had been almost a bloodless one on the part of the assailants. A few of
the knights had received wounds. Two among the Christian crews had been
killed, and four Sards; while two score had received wounds more or less
serious, as, unlike the knights, they had no defensive armour. While
waiting for daylight to appear, all their wounds were dressed and
bandaged by the knights.
In the morning the captured galleys were towed out, and anchored a short
distance away, and then Gervaise rowed up to the head of the inlet,
followed by the other three ships. They found that eleven of the
corsairs had been burnt, and to their satisfaction, they discovered four
uninjured galleys lying there, deserted, save by the slaves.
Seeing the fate of their comrades who had first issued out, the
commanders had, instead of trying to escape, rowed quietly to the head
of the inlet, the movement being covered by the flame and smoke, and had
there landed, having laden themselves with stores for their support on
shore. This was a great satisfaction to the knights, for not only did
it swell the list of prizes, but it reduced by over thirty the number of
Christian slaves who had perished in the flames. Taking the galleys
in tow, they rowed out of the inlet, whose banks were strewn with half
charred timbers, oars, and relics of the fight.
As soon as they had anchored by the side of their first prizes, a
council was held on board the Santa Barbara. It was clearly impossible
to take thirteen prizes to Rhodes, for there would be but three or four
knights to each, and were they to fall in with but one Moorish pirate,
they might suffer great disaster, while, should they meet with a storm,
they would fare badly indeed, as they could not depend upon the rescued
Christians for the management of the sails and oars in heavy weather. At
the same time, all were most anxious that the prizes should be carried
to Rhodes. Never, save as the result of some great battle, had such a
fleet of captured galleys been brought in, and the knights were prepared
to endure all dangers rather than part with one of them. Finally, after
much discussion, it was determined that they should make for Genoa. From
thence the rescued captives would be able to find their way to their
homes. The great majority were Italians and Spaniards; the former could
proceed by land or sea to their respective homes, while the Spaniards
would have no long time to wait before a vessel of their own nationality
entered the port, even if one were not lying there when they arrived.
Moreover, in any case it would be necessary to despatch a vessel to
Genoa, in order that it might be known that the danger was averted, and
that there was no longer any necessity for getting the galleys ready for
sea.
The chief ostensible reason, however, for going to Genoa was that there
would be no difficulty in engaging as many sailors as might be necessary
to take the prizes to Rhodes. Underlying all the arguments was another
reason which Ralph laughingly stated.
“It is all very well to bring forward one argument after another, but
not one of you has the courage to say what I am sure all of you have
at the bottom of your hearts. You know very well that you want to go to
Genoa to enjoy a triumph. The Rhodians are all very well, but there are
very many more fair faces at Genoa. Fie, Sir Knights! Such a spirit is
little in accordance with the vows of the Order. Are we not bound to
humility? And here you are all longing for the plaudits of the nobles
and ladies of Genoa!”
Some of the young knights laughed, others coloured hotly.
“They need not be ashamed of the feeling,” Caretto said. “Is it not the
ardent desire of all true knights to do gallant deeds, and do they not
value above all things the guerdon of applause from the fair eyes of
ladies. Your comrades have performed the gallant deeds, and well deserve
the reward. Now, Sir Gervaise, if not for this reason, at any rate for
the others that have been brought forward, I suppose we are all agreed
that we sail for Genoa. For our part we are heartily glad that such
is your decision. We, and the young knights of our langue, have many
friends there, and in their name I am sure I can promise you a reception
as hearty and sincere as that which we shall ourselves receive.”
It was settled that the rescued captives should be divided equally
among the thirteen prizes, and that three knights should go in each. The
Moorish captives were also divided equally among them, to aid with the
sails, and to row a few oars, in case of a dead calm setting in. The
commands were distributed according to seniority, the three rescued
Italian knights remaining on board the Santa Barbara with Gervaise.
The Sards were anxious to return to their villages, in order to carry
the news that several hundreds of Moorish pirates had landed.
“We shall have great trouble with them,” one of the young fishermen,
who spoke a little Italian, said to Gervaise. “There are always a great
number of swine, and herds of goats, up among the forests on the hills.
We must send up and drive in as many of these as possible, and of course
we shall send messengers to Tempe; but it will need a very large force
to combat these pirates, who will be able to come down and plunder
and destroy, and then retire to the hills, whence it will be hard to
dislodge them.”
“I am sorry indeed that such trouble should have been caused to you,”
Gervaise replied; “but I am afraid that I can give you no assistance.”
“We shall hunt them down in time,” the Sard said confidently.
“There are many villages scattered about Tempe, and what with us
fishermen, and the woodmen and charcoal burners, we shall soon get a
strong body together. Besides, we know the mountains, and they do not.”
“I should say that you had best avoid a pitched battle with them, but
keep on harassing them by night and day, cutting off all who separate
themselves from the main body, until at last they are completely worn
out.”
“We shall deal with them, Sir Knight. We are all hunters, for there are
wild boars and stags in the forest, and wolves too, and wild sheep on
the higher mountains. Every man among us can use his bow skillfully, and
wield pike and hatchet. The hunt will not be unprofitable, either, for
we can get a good price for all we take alive, to work in the mines.”
An hour later one of the galleys started with the Sards for their
villages in the bay of Tempe. After landing them, she was to rejoin the
rest of the fleet at their former anchorage at Madalena. By nightfall
all were gathered there, and the next morning they set out for Genoa.
The wind was light; but in their anxiety to return home as soon as
possible the released captives all volunteered to take their former
places on the benches, and the vessels were kept going at a fair rate
of speed. Two days' rowing took them to Bastia, where their approach
created unbounded excitement until the banner of the Order was seen
floating from the stern of the Santa Barbara, while smaller flags, that
had been hastily manufactured, flew from the mastheads of the thirteen
prizes. Even then the inhabitants feared to put out, believing that
the flags were but a ruse, and numbers of them fled at once, with their
families and valuables, to the mountains. It was not until a boat was
lowered, and Ralph, accompanied by three or four other knights, rowed
ashore, that the panic was allayed.
As soon as it was understood that the galley of the knights had not only
captured the thirteen corsairs, but had destroyed eleven others, and had
thus annihilated a fleet that was intended to prey upon the commerce
of Italy, and ravage the western coast, the alarm was succeeded by the
wildest enthusiasm. By the time Ralph had obtained the fresh meat and
stores he came ashore to purchase, the greater part of the population
were gathered on the shore, and a flotilla of boats put out with him,
filled with picturesquely dressed men and women. Some carried flags,
others green boughs, while the ladies had bouquets and baskets of fruit.
The galley was the first attraction, and, mounting her sides, the ladies
presented their offerings of fruit, while the men cheered, and waved
their hats; many musicians came out in the boats, and these played on
bagpipes and three-reeded flutes a succession of airs peculiar to the
island.
Gervaise received his visitors on the poop. These were at first
altogether incredulous when told that it was the lad before them who
had commanded the galley, had performed such a remarkable feat, and had
freed them from a terrible danger. The youth of the knights of the Order
no less surprised them, and had not Gervaise assured them that it was
altogether contrary to the rules of the Order for a knight to allow
himself to be embraced, many of the ladies would have taken this form
of showing their enthusiasm and gratitude. The next morning the fleet
started for Genoa. The wind was much stronger than it had been on the
previous day, and it was therefore unnecessary for the oars to be put
out, except, indeed, on board the galley. There, at nightfall, the
Christians relieved the slaves for some hours at their benches, and the
next morning the circle of hills round Genoa, with the city nestling at
their feet on the water's edge, and climbing for some distance up their
slopes, was in view. Caretto at once suggested that it would be well to
signal to the fleet to lie to.
“If we do not do so,” he said, “they will assuredly think that it is the
corsair fleet advancing to attack and burn the vessels in port, and you
may be saluted as you approach by a shower of cannonballs. If you will
permit me, Sir Gervaise, I will go forward in one of the prizes and
explain matters, and will return here in a short time.”
“Thank you, Sir Fabricius. As such mischance as you mention might indeed
very well occur, we will lower sail and lie here until you return.”
While Caretto was away, the knights and crews breakfasted, and the
former put on their armour and gayest attire, in readiness for the
landing. Gervaise, although with much inward vexation, considered it
necessary to do the same.
“I do wish,” he said to Ralph, who was smiling at his rueful face, “that
you could for today take my place, and let me pass as lieutenant.”
“I should not mind at all, Gervaise. But you must put up with the
disagreeables as well as the advantages of being commander, and must
submit to be honoured and feted here, as well as getting no end of
credit at Rhodes. You will have the satisfaction of well deserving it,
for I am sure the plan of attacking them with fire ships would never
have occurred to any one else, and if it had not been for that, we
should have had the mortification of seeing them sail off without being
able to move a finger to interfere with them.”
“If one were fighting for fame and honour, all that would be true
enough; but members of an Order, whose sole object is to defend
Christendom from the Moslems, should strive only to do their duty, and
care nothing for such things as honour and glory.”
“Human nature is human nature, and I don't see any reason why one should
despise honour and glory when they come to one in the course of duty.
I fancy you will think so too, Gervaise, in course of time. I am quite
sure that among the fifty knights, there is not one who does not feel
well content that he has not only done his duty to the Order, but has
gained a share in the credit and honour that will certainly be given to
all who have taken a part in so crushing a defeat of the corsairs. As
for myself, I do not for a moment pretend that I am not sensible of the
fact that, as second in command of the galley, my chances of obtaining
promotion in the Order are very greatly improved.”
It was nearly two hours before Caretto returned.
“It was well indeed that I went in,” he said to Gervaise, “for I found
the city in an uproar. The alarm bells of the churches were calling all
citizens to arms, and troops were being hurried down to the forts and
batteries. Rumour had of course exaggerated the strength of the fleet,
and half the population believed that the safety of the city itself was
menaced by the approach of a mighty squadron. As soon as my news was
bruited abroad, and they learned that the fleet consisted solely of
prizes captured from the Moors by a galley of the Order, alarm quickly
changed into delight, the sharp, angry clang of the bells was succeeded
by peals of gladness, and the joy of the citizens at being relieved from
the cloud of anxiety that had hung over the city since my last visit,
was unbounded. I went at once to the council chamber, where I found many
of the leading citizens already assembled, having been summoned in hot
haste as soon as our approach was made out. At first they were almost
incredulous when I told them that every ship of the pirate fleet had
been either destroyed or captured, and that the fleet in the offing
consisted entirely of your galley and the thirteen corsairs she had
captured. As soon as they really grasped the fact, they sent off
messengers to the churches to order the joy bells to be rung, and to the
dockyard to arrest all work upon the galleys. Then I had to give them a
short account of the surprise and destruction of the corsair fleet, and
finally they begged me to ask you to delay your entry to the port for
a couple of hours, in order that they might have time to prepare a
suitable reception for you.”
“I suppose there is no help for it,” Gervaise said. “Is there anything
that we ought to do?”
“I should decorate the galley with all the flags on board: should set
every one to work to make great flags with the cross of the Order to
hoist to the masthead of the prizes, instead of the little things that
are now flying; and under them we will hoist the flags of the corsairs,
among which are those of Tripoli, Tunis, and Algiers. I do not know that
there is aught else we can do.”