Victory

possession, has now an immense number of sail-of-the-line at his disposing, a damn sight more than we. Should these all at the one time be brought together in the Channel . . .’

‘Well?’

‘Our own strategics are very simple: to stop this happening. And to this end we have a tried and trusty weapon. Blockade. At Brest they have Ganteaume and his armada, Missiessy at Rochefort, Villeneuve at Toulon. The Spanish under Gravina at Ferrol, Vigo and Cadiz, fine deepwater ports. And outside every one of these lies a British battle squadron sternly denying them the open sea.

‘The effect of this is decisive: if any enemy leaves port that part will inevitably be defeated before it has time to join with the others, of that you can be assured. So while they lie apart and divided we are safe. Conversely, if they manage to break out and combine we will be overwhelmed. Therefore the heroes of the hour are those ships and men that are now standing before the enemy in all weathers to this end.’

Pitt looked up sombrely. ‘Incidentally, who have you on this duty at the moment?’

‘Cornwallis at Brest with seventeen of-the-line, Orde off Cadiz with five, Calder at Ferrol with eight and Nelson before Toulon with twelve. Not so many to set against them, I will agree.’

‘So if they do get out, what then?’

‘The chiefest danger is Toulon, which is why we have our most feared admiral there. And it’s there as well that the French have their commander-in-chief. If he can contrive to break free he sails west, adding battleships from Cartagena and forcing the strait of Gibraltar. Overwhelming Orde, he effects a conjunction with the Spanish in Cadiz. He then sails north, releasing others from Ferrol and Vigo and reaching Brest where Ganteaume comes out. The Combined Fleet is then in overwhelming force at the mouth of the Channel – and our worst nightmare is upon us.’

‘Quite,’ said Pitt. ‘Knowing these plans, however, we make our dispositions.’

Melville shook his head slowly. ‘No, sir, we do not know their plans. What I have outlined is the most obvious move for them and the most tempting. But there are other possibilities that would make nonsense of deployments based on it.

‘For instance, there’s always Ireland. A descent on its unprotected coast with the scale of forces Napoleon now commands would most probably succeed and this would place us in the impossible situation of facing two ways in defending our islands.

‘Then again there is the East. Bonaparte has always resented his defeat at the Nile, which turned the command of the Mediterranean over to us. If he can effect a landing in the Middle East again, he has a royal road to India and even the Ottomans in Constantinople. He will then have achieved his most desired object, a limitless empire without ever getting his feet wet.

‘He may well consider a feint – at Surinam, say, or Africa – and, while we’re so engaged, descend on the Caribbean in crushing force, taking our sugar islands. I don’t have to say that in this case we’d be bankrupted and suing for peace within the year.’

Pitt slumped back. ‘This is all so hard to take, Henry.’

‘Yes. We have world-wide commitments, sir. To maintain protection on our interests ranging from Botany Bay to Nova Scotia requires a colossal fleet to be dispersed about the planet. Napoleon may keep his own in concentration for whatever purpose he desires.’

Closing his eyes in weariness, Pitt sighed. ‘Then what you are saying is that if the nation’s hero, Nelson, fails us and the French get out, we’re ruined.’

‘Yes, sir, I am.’

L’Aurore ghosted in over a winter-bright sea, past the Mewstone to starboard, and came to single anchor among the scatter of ships in Cawsand Bay within Plymouth Sound. Her captain stood proudly, reflecting on the times he had brought his humble brig-sloop Teazer here.

Now in full-dress post-captain uniform, with a fine sword, on the quarterdeck of his own frigate, it was a world past, a more innocent time but one that seemed to have been in preparation for this culminating moment – when, incredibly, he was on his way to join Admiral Horatio Nelson.

His commissioning pennant dropped from the masthead at precisely the same time as the Union Jack rose on the jackstaff forward while aft the white ensign floated proudly free. As a naval visitor of significance Kydd would now be expected to pay his respects to the port-admiral, and in deep satisfaction he heard the first lieutenant call away his barge.

‘Hands to harbour routine, Mr Howlett,’ he ordered, but added quietly, ‘Row-guard and no liberty of any kind. We sail for Gibraltar just as soon as we’ve stored and watered.’

‘Aye aye, sir,’ Howlett said coldly. It would be some time before Kydd was forgiven, it seemed.

‘I’m sending out the store-ships as soon as I can stir ’em up. Turn the hands to, the moment they’ve opened the hold.’

Kydd returned as quickly as he decently could. The new port-admiral had been effusive in his congratulations, the action with Teazer having taken place in his waters. Narrowly avoiding a formal invitation to dinner, Kydd had set in train the storing of a ship for foreign service, including the items he was to carry to his commander-in-chief.

With rising excitement he called his barge and headed back. From the outside L’Aurore looked quite perfect. Larger than any craft in view, she was at one and the same time both martial and beautiful, and his heart went out to her.

Oakley’s pipe squealed, pure and clean in the cold, clear evening as Kydd mounted the side-steps and punctiliously raised his hat to the quarterdeck. He turned to go below and Howlett fell into step beside him. He said, with a note of smugness, ‘It grieves me to tell you, sir, that I have to report deserters already.’

‘Oh? To be expected, I suppose,’ Kydd said, with irritation. ‘I would have thought it foreseeable enough for my first lieutenant to take steps to prevent it.’

‘Ah, but these are your precious volunteers who are running. The first boat of trusties. I’m told half the crew ran off as soon as they had a line ashore,’ Howlett said primly.