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The man was tall and carried himself with a peculiar intensity, his eyes large and expressive. He was an impeccable host and quickly settled his guests to a small but well-planned supper.

Soon Kydd found himself reminiscing with the amiable Brisbane about Jervis, the irascible Lord St Vincent, while the older man brought to mind in an amusing way the Great Siege of Gibraltar so many years before.

He knew Lydiard of Anson, of course, and after giving a modest account of Trafalgar, he heard in return of him in an eighteen-gun sloop assisting a British warship in an epic battle against an enemy frigate that had ended when it finally struck. As luck would have it, it was recounted, when boats were lowered to take possession a damaged fore-mast fell and the French took the opportunity to re-hoist colours and make their escape.

‘Right, gentlemen,’ Brisbane said, as supper things were cleared away and a light Madeira was produced. ‘I rather think it time to talk about the morrow. This is not by way of a council-of-war but your acquainting with my plan, which, should it fail, will be my responsibility entirely.’

It needed saying: a council-of-war implied a shared liability. Brisbane was not a commodore and had no other authority than that of senior captain but was making it clear he was taking the burden for failure entirely on himself.

‘The first matter that we must touch on is-’

A distant wail of boatswain’s pipes sounded faint and clear. ‘Ah – that must be William now. Stout fellow, he must have cracked on sail quite unreasonably to be with us.’

He waited until there was a polite knock at the door and a pleasant, much-weathered officer appeared.

‘Ah, yes. Gentlemen – Captain Bolton of Fisgard, who cannot abide to be overlooked in the article of fighting.’

After introductions were complete, Brisbane resumed:

‘As I was about to say, I would have you under no misapprehension as to the main objective of this descent on Curacao.’

There were puzzled looks and he went on quickly, ‘Which is, you’ll be surprised to learn, not to add further conquest to His Majesty’s dominions but for quite another reason. I have confidential instructions from Admiral Dacres that direct me to turn my best endeavours to the locating and extirpation of a secret base from which the French are conducting a species of guerre de course by naval means against our sugar trade.’

He cut short the general stir. ‘This is the reason why we have been so singularly unsuccessful in our protection, being unknowingly beset by a fleet operation under naval direction when we expected it to be privateers of the common sort. This must be stopped or we suffer ruinous loss to our commerce at great hazard to our conduct of the war as a whole.’

‘Charles, would it be impertinent to enquire as to how we’ve gained possession of this information?’ Lydiard asked.

‘I’m told it’s from a source of intelligence that the admiral considers of the highest quality. I conceive it may be relied upon, old fellow.’

‘Then-’

‘Then it does colour the nature of our assault. We have the location of the base and it is my intention that, once we have penetrated their defences, we hold while we send a flying column to surround and destroy the operation, after which time we withdraw.’

He considered for a moment, then added, with a wolfish smile, ‘That is, unless we are sanguine that we have succeeded beyond the ordinary. In which case our assault might then be better termed an invasion.’

Kydd warmed to the man. Here was a leader who was not going to let opportunities pass for want of enterprise.

‘Let’s talk now of what we face. The harbour of Willemstad is called the Schottegat and is in the nature of an inland water of considerable extent. The only entrance is a mile-long channel, a hundred yards or so wide at best. On the right side is the older main town, on the left extensive civil works. The town is protected by Fort Amsterdam, a large fort at the seaward entrance of the channel to the right. It rates two tiers of sixty guns in all. There’s another, Fort Republiek, even bigger, at the other end of the channel, also on the right.’

‘So we land on the left?’ Bolton said.

‘Ah, no. With both forts on the right, the Hollanders will feel sure we’ll land up the coast on the left, form up and advance on them. Without a doubt they’ve their soldiery there, waiting to welcome us. I’ve a notion we’re to surprise ’em and take the direct route to the right.’

‘In the teeth of these forts? A brazen move, I believe,’ Lydiard drawled.

‘You think so? But then our hand is forced – it’s to the right a mile or so that the base is located.’

‘Er, we’ve heard nothing of their sea forces,’ Kydd interposed, remembering what Renzi had said about seeing a thirty-six-gun frigate in the harbour.

‘Oh, yes,’ Brisbane replied airily. ‘A twenty-two-gun corvette and a thirty-six-gun frigate were mentioned. These may inconvenience and will have to be silenced, of course.’

Kydd started. This was not a plan: it was a disaster in the making. Was he the death-or-glory type that every sailor feared?

Lydiard seemed uneasy, too, and said carefully, ‘An attack from the front against a prepared enemy is a perilous undertaking at any time, Charles. Could not the main objective be secured by other means – for instance, by the privy landing of a party at night to take the base and its people?’

‘I rather fear the risk is too great.’

‘The risk?’

‘That in failing it would alert the Dutch to what we’re chiefly about. No, this cannot be allowed. We go forward as before.’

‘If the objective is so important,’ Kydd interjected, ‘might we not delay until we can rouse up some military reinforcement and be sure of it?’

‘It is because it is so important that we cannot tolerate delay, dear chap.’

He suddenly grinned. ‘To see you all so mumchance is diverting in the extreme. Let me ease your concerns a little. I have given this much thought and come to the conclusion that to do the opposite of what they expect is our best chance. In this case they will be reckoning that we stand off and salute them with a long cannonade, then send in troops to contest the field in the most obvious place – the clear flat ground to the left of the channel.’

‘And instead?’

‘You will have noticed that the channel orients down to the sou’-sou’-west. With the present easterly we may count on a fair wind to sail on directly inside at the first whisper of daylight. Now, if I were the Dutch commander I’d situate his thirty-six somewhere near the entrance, moored a-crossways to offer his broadside to any unwelcome guest, supported by the corvette in likewise pose.’

‘Sealing off the channel to us? A hard thing to face.’

‘No, for he can’t impede access by his own shipping and must leave a space. Where they can go, so can we. Consider – without warning we appear out of the dawn and without a by-your-leave boldly continue on into the channel, past the fort, past the ships, all of which need time to close up for action. Too late! The town lies under our guns.’

‘And then?’ Bolton said coolly. ‘We’ve marines, armed seamen – do we then at our leisure step ashore and take the capital?’

‘I shall be clearer. The flying column lands and makes straight for the base. That is essential. The rest depends on planning and forethought, with the ability to change objectives at short notice. As I said, I’ve given it much consideration. Here are the details, gentlemen.’

Brisbane produced a scheme from his desk that was a model of military planning. Each ship had its own task: Arethusa would lead and tackle the thirty-six. L’Aurore, the lightest, would follow with the vital task of landing the flying column when practicable. The heavyweight Anson would be next, anchoring mid-channel to menace the worst of the opposition, while Fisgard would take the rear and go to the support of any in difficulty.