Invasion

Ambleteuse, Boulogne and etaples, of which Boulogne has by far the largest concentration.

'Now, Bonaparte is no sailor. He believes the Channel is a ditch to be crossed as in any other military operation, but he will find it very different. However, he is the devil incarnate in the arts of war and is vigorously pursuing great works to assist his cause. For instance, at Boulogne he is creating an embarkation quay a mile long and an artificial basin capable of floating a hundred vessels. He is not to be underestimated—some say he is mad, but it were folly to take him so. With his immense resources, and a surprise by your infernal devices or a feint at Ireland, he could be across in the space of a tide or two only. No, sir, make no error, we're under the greatest peril that ever was . . .'

'Then what is our force, sir?' Kydd said evenly.

'Stand fast the main battle fleets, we have three lines of defence against the immediate prospect of invasion,' Boyd replied. 'The first is of sloops and gun-vessels, and it is the inshore squadron of Admiral Keith's Downs command against the French coast,' he added drily. When Kydd held silent he continued, 'The second is of heavier metal and consists of frigates and older sail-of-the-line and it is in with the English coast to contest any landing in the southeast, as well within the Downs command. The third may be found in every creek and estuary from Hartland Point in north Cornwall to Great Yarmouth on our east coast. By this I am referring to the Sea Fencibles, who at this moment are some twenty-five thousand strong and manning some eight hundred vessels of, er, all kinds.'

'Then . . .'

'Quite. The first line of defence must be our strongest. There is no doubt but that you must brace yourself for the hardest-fought struggle this age. I do wish you well in this, Commander.'

'Sir.'

'We'll go on to the details now. Signals, chart emendations, the invasion craft and their characteristics as known, rendezvous positions—there's much to take in. First we shall look into the new signal book . . .'

Kydd was troubled and apprehensive. The mass of operational particulars had done nothing to lessen the effect of Boyd's first words, that this was a situation of such dire consequence as had never been faced by his country before. Now, knowing the details, he was only too aware of the knife edge of chance factors that could determine the future of the world. As head of the entire military strength of the kingdom, the Duke of York had nevertheless solemnly pronounced that, 'The fate of the nation is in the hands of the Navy.' And he must be right: the war was as much the Royal Navy's to lose as Napoleon's to win. A faint-hearted admiral, a deceitful piece of intelligence to send a fleet in the wrong direction, any or all could ensure Bonaparte got the unfettered hours he needed.

Returning to the White Hart, Kydd found his chair and sat quietly, eyes closed, letting the tensions drain. In two days he would return to the Downs and take Teazer to war. Would she come through? Would he? The only thing that was certain was that the immediate future would test both himself and his ship to the limit. Half a million Frenchmen under arms opposed by just a few thousand storm-tossed seamen in worn ships . . .

'Do I intrude, brother?' Renzi's gentle voice interrupted his thoughts.

'Oh, er, not so much, m' friend,' Kydd said, opening his eyes. 'Renzi, there's a matter I need to talk to you about, if y' will.' It was coming out too stiffly but he had to say it. 'That is, it touches on the future, you see.'

'Why, certainly,' Renzi said, sitting.

'I've—it's been an . . . interesting week. And now I'm much clearer what is to be facing us.'

'And what is that, pray?'

'If Bonaparte crosses, it's nothing less'n a fight to the finish—the last extremity, if you catch m' meaning.'

'If he crosses.'

'The invasion fleet is ready—near a hundred thousand men in the first assault. Only the Navy to keep 'em off. The first line o' defence is ourselves, m' friend, up against the French coast. If they break through us and launch their monstrous flotilla there's precious little to give 'em pause before they're flooding ashore.'

'If I may be so bold, dear fellow, might I observe that this agitation of spirit is quite unlike the Tom Kydd of yore?' Renzi said lightly, but his eyes were sombre.

'You've not heard what I have,' Kydd retorted grimly then caught himself. 'No, m' point is this, that shortly Teazer is sailing into, um, uncertain times. It's possible we'll need to stand against Bonaparte's whole armada—and, m' dear friend, I'd rather I had no distractions, if you understand,' he said firmly.

'Am I to apprehend . . . ?'

'Nicholas. It's a hard enough thing that I must place Teazer athwart their bows. It's hard, but it's necessary. What is not so is that I put the life of a learned scholar to hazard.'

'Are you—'

'Hear me, if you will. You must agree there's clerks a-plenty to be had, but not such a one who's as well a philosophical gentleman, one whose work mankind will soon surely set a value to.' Kydd faced Renzi squarely. 'Nicholas, I'm asking that you take y' books and remain ashore until this business is concluded.'

'That will not be possible,' Renzi said immediately.

'Pray why not?'

'Grant me that my sense of duty is as . . . consequential as your own. And for all that there is little enough I can do for my country in its extremity. All I ask is that I be allowed to continue in my post of duty to the satisfaction of my conscience.'

'It—a time might come that—'

'As we agreed in the beginning, if the ship is in imminent danger of boarding or some such, you may rest assured I will take up arms to defend it. As to the value of my carcass to posterity, you will allow me to be the judge of that.'

'Nicholas, this is not—'