“No need to waste time, gentlemen,” said Cornwallis abruptly. “Captain Moore has brought me despatches from London and we must act on them promptly.”
Even though he began with these words he spent a second or two rolling his kindly blue eyes along the row of captains, before he plunged into his explanations.
“Our Ambassador at Madrid—” he went on, and that name made them all stir in their seats; ever since the outbreak of war the Navy had been expecting Spain to resume her old role of ally to France.
Cornwallis spoke lucidly although rapidly. British agents in Madrid had discovered the content of the secret clauses of the treaty of San Ildefonso between France and Spain; the discovery had confirmed long cherished suspicions. By those clauses Spain was bound to declare war on England whenever requested by France, and until that request was made she was bound to pay a million francs a month into the French treasury.
“A million francs a month in gold and silver, gentlemen,” said Cornwallis.
Bonaparte was in constant need of cash for his war expenses; Spain could supply it thanks to her mines in Mexico and Peru. Every month waggon-loads of bullion climbed the Pyrenean passes to enter France. Every year a Spanish squadron bore the products of the mines from America to Cadiz.
“The next flota is expected this autumn, gentlemen,” said Cornwallis. “Usually it brings about four millions of dollars for the Crown, and about the same amount on private account.”
Eight millions of dollars, and the Spanish silver dollar was worth, in an England cursed by paper currency, a full seven shillings. Nearly three million pounds.
“The treasure that is not sent to Bonaparte,” said Cornwallis, “will largely go towards re-equipping the Spanish navy, which can be employed against England whenever Bonaparte chooses. So you can understand why it is desirable that the flota shall not reach Cadiz this year.”
“So it’s war, sir?” asked Moore, but Cornwallis shook his head.
“No. I am sending a squadron to intercept the flota, and I expect you’ve already guessed that it is your ships that I’m sending, gentlemen. But it is not war. Captain Moore, the senior officer, will be instructed to request the Spaniards to alter course and enter an English port. There the treasure will be removed and the ships set free. The treasure will not be seized. It will be retained by His Majesty’s Government as a pledge, to be returned to His Most Catholic Majesty on the conclusion of a general peace.”
“What ships are they, sir?”
“Frigates. Ships of war. Three frigates, sometimes four.”
“Commanded by Spanish naval officers, sir?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll never agree, sir. They’ll never violate their orders just because we tell ‘em to.”
Cornwallis rolled his eyes up to the deck-beams above and then down again.
“You will have written orders to compel them.”
“Then we’ll have to fight them, sir?”
“If they are so foolish as to resist.”
“And that will be war, sir.”
“Yes. His Majesty’s Government is of the opinion that Spain without eight million dollars is less dangerous as an open enemy than she would be as a secret enemy with that money available. Is the situation perfectly clear now, gentlemen?”
It was instantly obvious. It could be grasped even more quickly than the problem in simple mental arithmetic could be solved. Prize money; one-quarter of three million pounds for the captains—something approaching eight hundred thousand pounds each. An enormous fortune; with that sum a captain could buy a landed estate and still have sufficient left over to provide an income on which to live in dignity when invested in the Funds. Hornblower could see that every one of the four other captains was working out that problem too.
“I see you all understand, gentlemen. Captain Moore will issue his orders to you to take effect in case of separation, and he will make his own plans to effect the interception. Captain Hornblower—” every eye came round “—will proceed immediately in Hotspur to Cadiz to obtain the latest information from His Britannic Majesty’s Consul there, before joining you at the position selected by Captain Moore. Captain Hornblower, will you be kind enough to stay behind after these gentlemen have left?”
It was an extremely polite dismissal of the other four, whom Collins led away to receive their orders, leaving Hornblower face to face with Cornwallis. Cornwallis’s blue eyes, as far as Hornblower knew, were always kindly, but apart from that they were generally remarkably expressionless. As an exception, this time they had an amused twinkle.
“You’ve never made a penny of prize money in your life, have you Hornblower?” asked Cornwallis.
“No, sir.”
“It seems likely enough that you will make several pennies now.”
“You expect the Dons to fight, sir?”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Only a fool would think otherwise, and you’re no fool, Hornblower.”
An ingratiating man would say “Thank you, sir,” to that speech, but Hornblower would do nothing to ingratiate himself.
“Can we fight Spain as well as France, sir?”
“I think we can. Are you more interested in the war than in prize money, Hornblower?”
“Of course, sir.”
Collins was back in the cabin again, listening to the conversation.
“You’ve done well in the war so far, Hornblower,” said Cornwallis. “You’re on the way towards making a name for yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.” He could say that this time, because a name was nothing.
“You have no interest at Court, I understand? No friends in the Cabinet? Or in the Admiralty?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s a long, long step from Commander to Captain, Hornblower.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ve no young gentlemen with you in Hotspur, either.”
“No, sir.”
Practically every captain in the Navy had several boys of good family on board, rated as volunteers or as servants, learning to be sea officers. Most families had a younger son to be disposed of, and this was as good a way as any. Accepting such a charge was profitable to the captain in many ways, but particularly because by conferring such a favour he could expect some reciprocal favour from the family. A captain could even make a monetary profit, and frequently did, by appropriating the volunteer’s meagre pay and doling out pocket money instead.
“Why not?” asked Cornwallis.
“When we were commissioned I was sent four volunteers from the Naval Academy, sir. And since then I have not had time.”
The main reason why young gentlemen from the Naval Academy—King’s Letter Boys—were detested by captains was because of this very matter; their presence cut down on the number of volunteers by whom the captain could benefit.
“You were unfortunate,” said Cornwallis.
“Yes, sir.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Collins, breaking in on the conversation. “Here are your orders, captain, regarding your conduct in Cadiz. You will of course receive additional orders from Captain Moore.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Cornwallis still had time for a moment more of gossip.
“You were fortunate the day Grasshopper was lost that that shell did not explode, were you not, Hornblower?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It is quite unbelievable,” said Collins, adding his contribution to the conversation, “what a hot bed of gossip a fleet can be. The wildest tales are circulating regarding that shell.”
He was looking narrowly at Hornblower, and Hornblower looked straight back at him in defiance.
“You can’t hold me responsible for that, sir,” he said.