"In either case, Lieutenant Bartoe, the senior into Penguin, is to capture or burn whatever he discovers, or continue on another two miles to what we term the 'dragon's muzzle,' just off the Northern arm of the breakwater of the harbour of Le Verdon sur Mer, then wait for support from Commander Kenyon's Erato and Commander Hogue's Mischief."
"Might I ask why that is, sir?" a Lt. Aubrey, whose Marines and sailors would be aboard the cutters, asked. "I would have sixty men of mine own, plus another thirty off the cutters, all told. We could land on the breakwater, and march on the village, taking the French from the rear, as well."
"It's more than a mile from the place you suggest, Lieutenant, and more than two miles' march from the battery on Point Grave. Were the Frogs garrisoned in the village in strength, we could not take the battery and slight it, then march that far quick enough to assist you," Lewrie explained. "Both landing parties would just arrive tired. It's better that you and the cutters wait for Erato and Mischief to get the landing-parties ashore at Point Grave, then sail round to back you up before taking further action. Once they do arrive, though, all ships are free to sail right into the harbour, if the pickings look promising, and take a peek into the cove below the 'dragon's jaws'."
"Unfortunately, sirs," Lt. Devereux wryly commented, "we ain't as spry as our Army brethren, as stout of leg and lung, from marching, trotting, and charging for practice almost weekly, what?"
"And, our main objective is the reduction of the Pointe de Grave battery, and we don't know how long that will require," Lewrie further said, "nor how many kegs of powder must be landed to flatten it, so… any attack on Le Verdon must be up to Commander Kenyon's judgement as best he sees it, once he joins the cutters, which, 'til that happens, will be under Lieutenant Bartoe's command. Shipping is primary, if it is there, with assistance from Marine and naval boarding parties, then the village and harbour, if it appears that we are not out-numbered. "Besides, sir," Lewrie said with a shrug and a twinkle, "going ashore on the village docks, if such is practicable, is a much shorter stroll," which slight jape raised a collegial chuckle.
Lewrie could not help casting a chary eye on Kenyon, who would bear a great deal of responsibility for the coming landings. Kenyon did not look all that well; his face was waxy pale, and he slumped in his chair, hemmed in closely with officers hanging over his shoulders, and peered blankly at the chart, as though the closeness of the cabins did not give enough air to breathe. His mouth hung slightly open, and the nickering of his tongue over dry lips gave Lewrie the impression that Kenyon would dearly wish a glass of something both wet and intoxicating, no matter the import of the moment.
God, he's a slender reed! Lewrie bemoaned; why couldn't Hogue be senior, his active commission but a day older than Kenyon's!
"Savage will remain off the point, and will see that the powder kegs are landed, once Lieutenant Ford's and Lieutenant Noble's people are firmly ashore, and will cover the main landings with our guns. If substantial opposition is detected up-river of the point, which might require my re-enforcing, Commander Kenyon will fire off a signal rocket, right, sir?" he prompted, hoping to fetch the man back from catatonia.
Kenyon snapped his head up to look at Lewrie, had to gulp before speaking from a dry mouth, and said, "Of course, sir," by rote, yet… "We know that we may rely upon your support, Captain Lewrie." And that came with one of Kenyon's slyly snide looks, though the others, with no knowledge of the recent action off the Cote Sauvage, nor the grudge that Kenyon bore for his losses, took as a companionable affirmation of mutual trust!
Goddamn yer blood, you…! Lewrie wished to shout aloud; can't I relieve him for drunkeness, at least? He 'II bugger this up, certain! Drunk as Davy's Sow, or from spite for gettin' some o' his Molly Boys knackered! For better or worse though, unfortunately, he was stuck with him. Oh, but if you turn this into a shambles, Jemmy, I'll see ye stomped on like a worm!
"Believe me, sir," Hogue drolly commented, "are there Frog warships lurking down at Talmont, you'll see a royal fireworks of rockets in the air, so you can come join the hunting!"
"Uhm, no…," Lewrie said after the laughter died away. "Let's take signals into account, separated as we are. If you discover Frog opposition, Lieutenant Bartoe, send up two rockets, and continue firing, in pairs, 'til /fire a pair in reply, then limit your advance into the river to the shallow bay North of Le Verdon. Same goes for you, Commander Kenyon, if enemy ships turn up after you sail round the point to support the cutters, and I shall reply the same, to signal my arrival to support you!
"Mister Bartoe," Lewrie continued, "if no opposition is found afloat, launch one rocket after you are off the 'dragon's muzzle'… here," he said, tapping the chart with a fat lead pencil, "to which I shall reply in like manner. Do you espy large numbers of French troops in Le Verdon, launch four rockets in a single salvo to alert us that we may expect opposition marching to confront our landing-parties busy at the battery. Again, same goes for you, Commander Kenyon, once you've joined the cutters, and have had a good look of the village and small port. Then, is an attack upon the harbour either practicable or necessary, and, knowing that you have left the beaches at the point, send up only one rocket to let me know that you're going in. Anyone takin' notes?" he asked suddenly, peering about.
"I am, sir," his clerk, Padgett, spoke up from a far corner by the chart-space.
"Copies of the rocket signals for each captain, and every officer of Marines, before we adjourn, do ye please, Mister Padgett," Lewrie instructed. "Well, gentlemen, if no one has any questions… no? How about comments?"
"Wish we were cross the river, sir, with the asault on the fort, and all," Lt. Noble wistfully said in the sudden silence. "Theirs the greater honour, what?"
"I trust there will be enough honour and glory available to all, sir," Lewrie replied with a grin. "Speaking of… might be best, does Commodore Ayscough know our signals, so, should the French have armed vessels up-river, Chesterfield, Lyme, and the 'liners' can come to our assistance with their guns, once they've silenced Fort Saint Georges."
"I shall see to it, sir," Padgett told him, reaching into the chart-space for a fresh sheet of paper, but recoiling quickly, as soon as he'd gotten hold of it, for Toulon and Chalky, shy of such a noisy gathering, had taken shelter in the shelves 'tween books, and were of a territorial mood, ready to claw and hiss at anything that threatened to enter their refuge.
"See to it, Captain," Lt. Urquhart also promised, though it was going to be a foul and wet row over to Ayscough's flagship; perhaps he would send a Midshipman, and save his clothing. At any rate, Urquhart looked restless and pleased, for he would be leading Savage's, armed seamen onto the beach, with Marine Lieutenant Devereux his second.
"Uhm, I do find a bit of oddness to this, though, Captain Lewrie… the timing of our assault, in broad daylight," Lt. Ford commented as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, "and our beginning a bit before the other operations, sir."
"Marching distances, Mister Ford," Lewrie told him, tipping him a wink. "Dawn, the traditional time for an attack, rises, and our foes see us deep into the estuary, in strength. We're not doing anything to threaten them, anchored as we are. 'Sacre bleu,' and other such words of consternation, hey? Then, word comes by galloper that more warships are off the Cote Sauvage, blazin' away like Billy-Oh, puttin' down an armada of rowing boats… where probes were recently made, French soldiers were killed, and guns smashed, and their defences still aren't sufficient. From those beaches, perhaps a brigade, perhaps an entire division, could march on La Tremblade, Marennes, or Rochefort. Hour or so later, after they've committed forces to re-enforce the few troops they have there,… at the double-quick with their tongues lollin' out, and the troops from Royan sent off, too, they find out that we 're the real threat, soon as we up-anchor, and it's too late to march all those fellows back in time to counter us.