the matter.’
‘Furthermore, I have no wish to lose any spars by cracking on, nor to lie there day after day under the eye of a Commander-in-Chief who dislikes me. He is a very distinguished sailor, I fully admit; and his reputation as a fighting captain was very high indeed; yet as a flag-officer he has been less fortunate... It is very odd, but there is something about the Admiralty board-room table that has a sad effect on some of those who sit there, sensible men who can club-haul their ship off a roaring lee-shore or take a huge Spanish beauty like the Santisima Trinidad and remain perfectly civil and unassuming until this point, this board-room table. It is not invariable, but I have served under some who, on becoming a Sea-Lord, above all First Sea-Lord, who suddenly swell up into creatures of enormous importance, who have to be approached on hands and knees, and addressed in the third person. No. Lord Barmouth will have a monuwent in the Abbey with a great many fine actions engraved upon it; but he is perfectly capable of doing a dirty thing, and I should rather make my obeisance a very short time before the dark of the moon and then go about my business, looking as much like a distressed merchantman as possible.’
It was a good plan; it kept the ship from the wear and tear of a hurried passage, so that (apart from other considerations) she should be entirely ready for the eagerly-expected meeting. But it was based on the false assumption that the Commander-in-Chief should be sitting in Gibraltar.
He was in fact exercising the vessels under his command, the ships of the line to port, the sloops and minor craft to starboard, in line abreast; and well behind them sailed a numerous convoy of merchantmen.
This surprising armada was reported, bit by bit, from the masthead as the morning cleared, starting with the foremost division of sloops; and Jack had time to spread more canvas, much more canvas, to the north-east breeze before the hail came down: ‘On deck, there. On deck: flag two points on the starboard bow.’
Fortunately the Surprise was in a high state of cleanliness - decks already dry from the swabbing - guns as neat as a paper of pins - all hands reasonably well turned out and necessarily stone-cold sober; but this did not prevent Harding, Woodbine and the Royal Marine officer from fussing about the ship or Killick from overhauling the rear-admiral’s uniform that Jack wore, on formal occasions, as commodore.
The day cleared. The signal midshipman and his yeoman watched the almost continual stream of hoists running up aloft as Lord Barmouth put his fleet through a variety of manoeuvres and expressing a variety of comments, mostly unfavourable. At last Surprise’s number appeared, together with Commodore repair aboard flag.
Bonden and his crew already had the barge clear for lowering down and the moment he saw Jack emerge from his cabin in the glory of number one scraper, presentation sword and a large quantity of gold lace he gave the word and the boat glided down, instantly followed by bargemen and a master’s mate at the tiller. ‘As soon as we are a cable’s length away,’ said Jack to Harding, ‘start the salute: and I am sure you will never forget a couple of spares in case of a misfire.’
With this he ran down into the barge, and as usual Bonden shoved off, saying to his crew, ‘Row dry, there; row dry.’ And when they had pulled just a cable’s length, the Surprise began her salute to the Commander-in-Chief, seventeen guns: for this was the first time she had met him in office. After the seventeenth Implacable replied, but hesitated slightly after the thirteenth as though doubtful of Jack’s right to more, though his broad pennant was clearly to be seen - hesitated until some angry voice roared from the quarterdeck, when the remaining two were fired almost together.
The captain of Implacable, Henry James, an old shipmate, received Jack kindly as he came aboard: the Royal Marines presented arms, and the flag-lieutenant said, ‘May I take you to the Commander-in-Chief, sir?’
‘I am happy to see you, Mr Aubrey,’ said Lord Barmouth, half-rising from behind his desk and giving him a cold hand.
‘So am I, upon my word,’ said Sir James Frere, the Captain of the Fleet, whose grasp was much more cordial.
‘But I do not quite understand what you are doing in these waters. Pray sit down while you tell me.’
‘My Lord, the previous Commander-in-Chief gave me a squadron with orders to proceed to the lonian and Adriatic and - having seen the trade on its way - to put an end to Bonapartist ship-building in those parts, to persuade some French ships to come over to the Allies and to take, sink, burn and destroy those who would not. An emissary from Sir Joseph Blaine also spoke of the Ministry’s concern at reports of a Muslim confederacy’s intention of preventing the junction of the Russian and Austrian forces marching westward to join the British and Prussian armies, or at least to delay it long enough for Napoleon’s superior numbers to crush each of the Allied states separately. This move on the part of the Muslim group however required the enlistment of a large number of mercenaries; and they had to be paid. The money was to come from a Muslim state on the confines of Morocco, and it was expected to travel by way of Algiers: our intelligence people eventually put an end to that and it is now to come by sea, through the Straits, as I have told Lord Keith in repeated dispatches, not knowing that he had been superseded. Perhaps I should add that Sir Joseph also supplied my political adviser with a local expert, a gentleman perfectly fluent in Turkish and Arabic, who was of the greatest value: with his help we detached one French frigate, destroyed two others, and
