Victory

and they’re distrustful as you’ll be able to show ’em how to lay a prize by the tail.’ At Kydd’s expression he hurriedly added, ‘Besides, word’s out that we’re likely enough t’ be sent to the blockade fleets, s’ no chance at prize- taking.’

‘I see. Mr Howlett, you spoke to the regulating captain. Did he give you a sense o’ the prospects for more pressed men?’

‘No, with Ajax and Orion 74’s having prior claim and the port stripped clean he doesn’t hold out any hope in the matter.’

‘Then we’re on our own. Any ideas, gentlemen?’

The discussion ebbed and flowed, but the outcome was indeterminate. In a bracket of days they had to find a full crew – or a cleverer captain with answers would replace him.

Kydd dismissed them and slumped into his chair, gazing stonily out of the stern windows. Unbelievably he had gained his heart’s desire and to have it snatched away so easily would be painful beyond belief – was there nothing he could do to prevent it?

After a sleepless night he was no further forward. Then in the early dawn light an idea came to him, but one so shocking he was astonished that he had thought of it. It was vile, dishonourable, a scurvy trick to be loathed by any true sailor. But it had one, and one only, saving grace: it was guaranteed to work. He would have his men.

Precisely at morning gun he was at the port-admiral’s office. ‘Sir, I’m grieved to say I’m sadly under strength and with urgent sailing orders for Admiral Nelson. I have a request which I beg you’ll consider . . .’

Two days later when Alceste frigate hove into Portsmouth harbour to pay off after three long years in the West Indies, her men were turned over into L’Aurore without once setting foot on English soil. Kydd stood well back as they came aboard. Whatever else, these men were the best – deeply tanned, fit and, after three years together in a crack frigate, were a known quantity and a priceless contribution to his ship.

But they also looked dazed and bewildered, massing protectively together by the main-mast, occasionally glancing aft bitterly.

He knew how they would be feeling. As they’d sailed back across the Atlantic their thoughts had been with homes, loved ones and the little gifts and curios they would present on their happy return. And as the ship made landfall on the Lizard and began that last beat up-Channel, even the most hardened shellback would have been caught up in the all-consuming excitement – ‘Channel-fever’, the last hours of the voyage passing in a dream-like delirium.

Instead there had been the unaccountable diversion to the Motherbank anchorage, quickly followed by the ship being surrounded by boats from the guard-ship and L’Aurore, together with press- tenders, hoys, launches full of marines. It would have been all over very quickly, the men given minutes to find their sea-bags and chests.

Just an hour or two ago they had thought their voyage had ended but, thanks to Kydd’s cruel decision, it was not to be. He crushed the hot thoughts of injustice that rose, his face stony. There was no other way.

‘Keep the guard-boats!’ Kydd called to Curzon, at the gangway.

The ship had boarding nettings rigged under the line of gun-ports and all boats at the lower boom were kept at long stay. Their entire detachment of Royal Marines patrolled the upper decks and there were even discreet parties in the tops with swivel guns.

The most effective, however, were the boats rowing guard, slowly and endlessly circling the ship at a hundred yards distant, ready to intercept any daring enough to make a break by leaping from the yards or in other desperate moves.

The first lieutenant set up his table to rate the Alcestes and one by one they came up, strong faces, men with pride in their bearing and contempt in their voices. Howlett processed them swiftly for it had been agreed that it made sense to keep the men in the same position they had been in Alceste and fit the lesser number of L’Aurores around them.

‘What are you about, Mr Curzon?’ Kydd roared. ‘My orders are t’ let no boat approach whatsoever!’ A slim Portsmouth wherry had slipped past the circling pinnaces and was hooking on at the main-chains.

The boat hailed L’Aurore – Curzon turned, and shouted back, ‘Two to come aboard, sir – saw your poster and want to join,’ he added incredulously.

The pair hauled themselves inboard, their dunnage thrown after them. It was Stirk and Poulden, survivors of Teazer. Kydd couldn’t bring himself to speak to them; they’d find out what he’d done soon enough. ‘Enter ’em in under their old rate, Mr Howlett,’ he said gruffly, and left the deck.

His first lieutenant reported with jocular satisfaction: ‘A fine haul, sir! She mans more than we, so I took the liberty of turning away any I didn’t like the look of.’ Kydd grimaced. To those held aboard, the sight of the lucky few escaping to freedom would only make their own situation harder to bear.

‘I want ’em in two watches and messed before the dog-watches, if y’ please,’ he snapped. ‘Ship goes to routine after supper.’

It was asking a lot, but this would occupy them with the choosing of mess-mates for each six-to-eight-man mess-table, the stowing of their chests and ditty-bags, and settling the unwritten assumptions of the pecking order.

Howlett would have overnight to produce a watch and station bill for sailing; that for quarters could wait until later. Kydd would then himself take decisions on divisions. This was the partialling of the ship’s company behind each officer so that, with a fair cross-section of skills in each, they could undertake risky tasks such as a cutting-out expedition – storming aboard an enemy ship in its own harbour, setting sail on a strange ship and getting it to sea.

Divisions was as well the Navy’s way of ensuring the men were cared for, that there was his own particular officer a humble seaman could call on whenever things turned against him.

Then it was a matter of storing ship for foreign service and putting to sea, away from the continual sight of what the men could not have. Days only!

Kydd slept well and was up before dawn. Gilbey had nothing of significance to report overnight, but at first light a wretched sight unfolded. Word of Alceste’s turning over had leaked out and a number of