1805

broadside cleared they were rewarded by an astonishing sight. Little damage seemed to have been inflicted upon the enemy at the extremity of their range, but the Combined Fleet was heaving to.

'Probably thinks that Calder's just behind us out of sight,' Rogers put in, rubbing his hands with glee.

Drinkwater wore Antigone round and immediately the yards were squared they made out the shapes of two frigates on their larboard bow, dim, ghostly vessels close-hauled as they approached from the east.

'The private signal, Mr Frey, and look lively!' He did not want to be shot at as he retreated ahead of the French, and already he recognised Sirius with her emerald-green rail.

The colours of flags clarified as the ships closed and Drinkwater turned Antigone to larboard to come up on Sirius's quarter. The second British frigate, Égyptienne, loomed astern. Drinkwater saw Prowse step up on the rail with a speaking trumpet. 'Heard gunfire, Drinkwater. Was that you?'

'Yes! The Combined Fleet is just to windward of us!'

'Form line astern of the Égyptienne. Calder wants us to reconnoitre!'

'Aye, aye!' Drinkwater jumped down from the mizen chains. 'Back the mizen tops'l, Mr Hill. Fall in line astern of the Égyptienne.' Drinkwater watched Sirius disappear into a fog patch and the second frigate ghosted past. For one glorious moment at about seven bells in the afternoon the fog lifted and the mist rolled back, giving both fleets a glimpse of each other. Astern of the three westward- heading British frigates, the British fleet of fifteen ships-of-the-line was standing south-south-west on the starboard tack, their topgallants set above topsails, but with their courses clewed up. From Sir Robert Calder's 98-gun flagship, the Prince of Wales, flew the signal to engage the enemy. This was repeated from the masthead of his second in command, Rear-Admiral Stirling, on board the Glory.

To the southward of the three frigates the Combined Fleet straggled in a long line of twenty ships and a few distant frigates. Since they had hove to, they had adjusted their course, edging away from the British frigates which, in order to hold the wind, were also diverging to the north-west. Prowse made the signal to tack and Sirius began to ease round on the enemy rear. She was holding the fluky wind better than either Antigone or Égyptienne. A few minutes later the mist closed down again. Drinkwater set his courses in an attempt to catch up with Sirius and lost contact with the Égyptienne. He heard gunfire to the south and then the sound of a heavier cannonade to the south-east. Next to him Rogers was beside himself with impatience and frustration.

'God damn it, God damn it,' he muttered, grinding the fist of one hand into the palm of the other.

'For God's sake relax, Sam. You'll have apoplexy else.'

'This is agony, sir…'

'Steer for the guns, Mr Hill.' It was agonising for Drinkwater too. But whereas all Rogers had to do was wait for a target to present itself, Drinkwater worried about the presence of other ships, dreading a collision. Ahead of them the noise of cannon-fire was growing louder and more persistent. Then, once again, the fog rolled back, revealing broad on their larboard bow the shape of a battleship. This time the enemy were ready for them.

The roar of forty cannon fire in a ragged broadside split the air. The black hull of the 80-gun vessel towered over them as Rogers roared, 'Fire!'

Antigone's puny broadside rattled and thudded against the stranger's hull as they saw the red and yellow of Spain and an admiral's flag at her mainmasthead. The wind of the battleship's broadside passed them like a tornado but most of the shot whistled overhead, parting ropes and holing sails. One casualty occurred in the main-top and the main-mast was wounded by two balls, but the Antigone escaped the worst effects of such a storm of iron. As the great ship vanished in the mist Drinkwater read her name across the stern: Argonauta.

Then there were other ships passing them, the Terrible and America, both disdaining to fire on a frigate, and Drinkwater realised that the Combined Fleet had tacked and were standing north. In the confusion he wondered what on earth Calder was doing, and whether the British admiral had observed this movement. Then the outbreak of a general cannonade told him that the two fleets were still in contact, and the sudden appearance of spouts of water near them convinced him that the British fleet were just beyond the line of the enemy and that Antigone was in the line of fire of the British guns.

A little after five in the afternoon they made contact again with the Sirius. Both frigates then hauled round and stood towards the gunfire. Once they caught a glimpse of the action and, from what could be discerned, the two fleets were engaged in a confusing mêlée.

'I don't know what the devil to make of it, damned if I do,' remarked Hill tensely, his tone expressing the frustration they all felt. Antigone continued to edge down in the mist until darkness came, although the gunfire continued for some time afterwards.

'What in God Almighty's name are we doing?' asked Rogers, looking helplessly round the quarterdeck.

'Why nothing, Mr Rogers,' said Hill, who was finding the first lieutenant's constant moaning a trifle tedious. To windward of the group of officers Captain Drinkwater studied the situation, privately as mystified as his officers. On the day following the action the weather had remained hazy and the two fleets had manoeuvred in sight of each other. Both had been inactive, as though licking their wounds. After the utter confusion of the 22nd, the British were pleased to find themselves masters of two Spanish prizes. It was also clear that they had badly damaged several more. However, the British ships Windsor Castle and Malta were themselves in poor condition and preparing to detach for England and a dockyard.

The wind had held, the Combined Fleet remained with the advantage of the weather gauge, and Calder waited for Villeneuve to attack. But the allied commander hesitated.

'All I've had to do today,' remarked Rogers in one of his peevish outbursts, 'is report another three casks of pork as being rotten! I ask you, is that the kind of work fit for a King's sea-officer?'

Although the question had been rhetorical it had brought forth a sotto voce comment from Midshipman Glencross for which the young man had been sent to the foremasthead to cool his heels and guard his tongue. As Drinkwater had written in his journal, the last days had been inconclusive if our task is to annihilate the enemy. And today, it seemed, was to be worse. The wind had shifted at dawn and every ship in the British fleet hourly expected Calder to form his line, station his frigates to windward for the repeating of his signals, and to bear down upon the enemy. As hour after hour passed and the wind increased slowly to a fresh breeze and then to a near gale, nothing happened. Villeneuve's fleet edged away to the north. By six o'clock in the evening the Combined Fleet was out of sight.

'Well,' remarked Lieutenant Fraser as he took over the deck and the hands were at last stood down from their quarters, 'at least we stopped them getting into Ferrol, but it's no' cricket we're playing. I wonder what they'll think o'this in London?'

Chapter Fourteen The Fog of War

July-August 1805 

'Dear God, how many more?'

'Best part of the ground tier, sir, plus a dozen other casks among the batch shipped aboard off Ushant. I'd guess some of that pork was pickled back in the American War.'

Drinkwater sighed. Rogers might be exaggerating, but then again it was equally possible that he was not. 'If we ain't careful, Sam, we'll be obliged to request stores; just at the moment that would be intolerable. Apart from anything else we must wait on this rendezvous a day or two more.'

'D'you think there's going to be a battle then? After that farting match last week? There's a rumour that Calder is going to be called home to face a court-martial,' Rogers said, a note of irreverent glee in his voice.

'I'm damned if I know where these infernal rumours start,' Drinkwater said sharply. 'You should know better