1805

My dearest husband, Drinkwater read, Elizabeth's two-month-old letter having found its way to him via one of Calder's ships: I have much to tell and you will want to know the news of the war first. We are in a fever here and have been for months. The French Invasion is expected hourly and the town is regularly filled with the militia and yeomanry which, from the noise they make, intend to behave most valiantly, but of which I hold no very great expectations. We hear horrid tales of the French. Billie has taught us all how to load and fire a blunderbuss and I can assure you that should they come they will find the house as stoutly defended as a handful of women and a legless boy can make it. The children thrive on the excitement, Richard particularly, he is much affected by the sight of any uniform…

You will have heard of the Coalition with Austria. Much is expected of it, though I know not what to think at the moment. We are constantly disturbed by the passage of post-chaises and couriers on the Portsmouth Road that the turmoil makes it impossible to judge the true state of affairs and indeed to know whether anyone is capable of doing so …

There was much more, and with it newspapers and other gossip that had percolated through the officers' correspondence to the gunroom. There had been a movement by the Brest fleet under Ganteaume which had engaged British ships off Point St Matthew and seemed to have followed some direct instruction of the Emperor Napoleon's. It was conjectured that a similar order had gone out to Villeneuve, but the accuracy of this was uncertain.

The news was already old. He felt his own fears for his family abating. The uncertainty of the last months was gone. Whatever French intentions were, it was clear that the two main fleets of the enemy were secured, the one in Brest, the other in Cadiz. This time the doors of the stables were double-bolted with the horses inside.

'Beg pardon, sir, but Mr Fraser says to tell you that Euryalus is approaching.'

'Euryalus?' Drinkwater looked up from the log-book in astonishment at Midshipman Wickham. 'Are you certain?'

'I believe so, sir.'

'Oh.' He exchanged glances with Hill. 'We are superceded, Mr Hill.'

'Yes,' Hill replied flatly.

'Very well, Mr Wickham, I'll be up directly.' He signed the log and handed it back to the sailing master.

Half an hour later Drinkwater received a letter borne by a courteous lieutenant from the Euryalus. He read it on deck:

Euryalus

Off Cadiz

27th September 1805

Dear Drinkwater,

I am indebted to you for so ably holding the forward post off San Sebastian. However I am ordered by Vice-Ad. Collingwood to direct you to relinquish the station to myself and to proceed to Gibraltar where you will be able to make good the deficiency in your stores. You are particularly to acquaint General Fox of the fact that Lord Nelson is arriving shortly to take command of His Majesty's ships and vessels before Cadiz, and it is his Lordship's particular desire that his arrival is attended with no ceremony and the news is kept from Admiral Decrès as long as possible.

May good fortune attend your endeavours. Lose not a moment.

Henry Blackwood.

Drinkwater looked at the lieutenant. 'Tell Captain Blackwood that I understand his instructions… Does he think that Decrès commands at Cadiz?'

The lieutenant nodded. 'Yes, sir. Captain Blackwood has come directly from London. Lord Nelson is no more than a day behind us in Victory…'

'But Decrès, Lieutenant, why him and not Villeneuve?'

'I believe, sir, there were reports in London that Napoleon is replacing Villeneuve, sir. Admiral Decrès was named as his successor.'

Drinkwater frowned. 'But Decrès is Minister of Marine. Does this mean the game is not yet played out?'

'Reports from Paris indicate His Imperial Majesty still has plans for his fleets, although I believe the French have decamped from Boulogne.'

'Good Lord. Very well, Lieutenant, we must be about our business. My duty to Captain Blackwood.'

'So,' muttered Drinkwater to himself as he watched the Euryalus's boat clear the ship's side, 'the horse may yet kick the stable door down.'

'Port, Captain Drinkwater?'

'Thank you, sir,' Drinkwater unstoppered the decanter and poured the dark wine into his gleaming crystal glass. Despite the war the Governor of Gibraltar, General Fox, kept an impressive table. He had dined to excess. He passed the decanter to the infantry colonel next to him.

'So,' said the Governor, 'Nelson does not want us to advertise his arrival to the Dons, eh?'

'That would seem to be his intention, sir.'

'It would frighten Villeneuve. I suppose Nelson wants to entice them out for a fight, eh?'

'I think that would be Lord Nelson's intention, General, yes.' He remembered his conversation with Pitt all those months ago.

'Let's hope he doesn't damn well lose 'em this time then.' There was an embarrassed silence round the table.

'Is Villeneuve still in command at Cadiz, sir?' Drinkwater asked, breaking the silence. 'There was, I believe, a report that Napoleon had replaced him.'

Fox exchanged glances with the port admiral, Rear-Admiral Knight. 'We have not heard anything of the kind, though if Boney wants anything done he'd be well advised to do so.'

'The fleet is pleased to have Nelson out, I daresay,' put in Knight.

'Yes, Sir John. I believe his arrival will electrify the whole squadron.'

'Collingwood's a fine fellow,' said Fox, 'but a better bishop than an admiral. Pass the damn thing, John.'

Sir John Knight had his fist clamped round the neck of the decanter, withholding it from the Governor to signal his displeasure at having a fellow admiral discussed before a junior captain.

'Vice-Admiral Collingwood is highly regarded, sir,' Drinkwater remarked loyally, disliking such silly gossip about a man who was wearing himself out in his country's service. Fox grunted and Drinkwater considered that his contradiction of a General Officer might have been injudicious. Knight rescued him.

'I believe you will be able to sail and rejoin the fleet by noon tomorrow, Drinkwater.'

'I hope so, Sir John.'

'Well you may reassure Lord Nelson that he has only to intimate his desire to us and we shall regard it as a command. At this important juncture in the war it is essential that we all cooperate…'

'A magnificent sight is it not? May I congratulate you on being made post, sir.'

'Thank you… I er, forgive me, your face is familiar…'

'Quilliam, sir, John Quilliam. We met before Copenhagen…'

'On board Amazon … I recollect it now. You are still awaiting your step?'

'Yes. But resigned to my fate. To be first lieutenant of Victory is a better berth than many. Come, sir, his Lordship will see you at once and does not like to be kept waiting.'

Drinkwater followed Quilliam across Victory's immaculate quarterdeck, beneath the row of fire-buckets with their royal cipher and into the lobby outside Lord Nelson's cabin. A minute later he was making his report to the Commander-in-Chief and delivering Sir John Knight's documents to him. The little admiral greeted him cordially. The wide, mobile mouth smiled enthusiastically, though the skin of his face seemed transparent with fatigue. But the single eye glittered with that intensity that Drinkwater had noted before Copenhagen.

'And you say it is still Villeneuve that commands at Cadiz, Captain?'

'I have learned nothing positive to the contrary, my Lord, but you well know the state of news.'