*Chapter Three - The Admiral's Command*
Oh! Admiral Gam-- I dare not mention beer
In such a temperate ear;
Oh! Admiral Gam-- an Admiral of the Blue
Of course, to read the Navy list aright,
For strictly shunning wine of either hue,
You can't be Admiral of the Red or White
Thomas Hood
*******
Hornblower scanned the signal with something close to disbelief. "Have a boat lowered, Mr. Bush."
"A boat, sir?"
"You heard me!" Nine miles out from the Basque Roads the British Fleet was receiving orders for the captains to board the flagship to confer.
It was now many hours since the first of two great explosions had rent the night. The French anchorage had been lit by fire throughout the remaining hours of darkness, and he could see distant flashes as the rockets left aboard the fire-ships went off. Still more revealing had been the signals that had begun to issue from the Imperieuse, Cochrane's ship, at first light.
5.48 'Half the fleet can destroy the enemy. Seven on shore.' 6.40 'Eleven on shore.' 7.40 'Only two afloat.'
The weather was too choppy for a boat attack - but only two afloat! Gambier had eleven battle-ships, six frigates and an assortment of smaller vessels. Only two afloat - the French fleet was at their mercy. Only two afloat, and the bulk of the British fleet hovered nine miles out, waiting for heaven knew what, while the tide turned ready to float the enemy fleet again. And now Gambier wanted to hold a conference.
The feelings in the flagship cabin were all too clear. Hornblower had realised that many of his fellow captains disliked Cochrane. He had not known they hated him.
'No cause to go in,' in different words and tone, that was the song that almost all were singing. No cause to go in and risk the ships. No cause to go in and add to what had been achieved already. No cause to hand a resounding triumph to that arrogant Scotch puppy - no one said the last, but the thought was all too clear. No cause to go in.
Gambier was saying that the object had been attained already, the fleet was aground and hence destroyed. Hornblower listened in stark disbelief. He knew Gambier had spent the bulk of his career behind a desk, but this was absurd! Only the rankest landlubber could be unaware that beached ships generally floated off at next high tide. They would be damaged, but they would not be destroyed.
He held his own tongue, no-one would pay heed to one of the most junior captains present. Only a couple of the battle-ship captains were in favour of going in, and it was plain they would be overruled. Gambier finally settled on proceeding to a position about five miles out, then dropping anchor, to be ready he said, if any of the French ships should make for open water. Hardly likely.
At noon Hornblower stood aboard the stationary Lydia, surveying the French fleet through his eyeglasses. They looked in a bad way, he could see guns being thrown overboard on some. Even once afloat, and that would not be long delayed, they could be no match for the British ships. But 'No cause to go in....'
He swept the glass backwards, focused on the Imperieuse, where she lay anchored near the channel entrance. Then he gasped. Surely the ship was. moving.
Not underway though, drifting into the anchorage with the tide, as though she had slipped her cable. Could so mundane an accident in truth have happened to Cochrane?
Of course it had not! No, this was deliberate. The man was going in alone, in such a manner that he was not obviously defying orders. He was risking everything, rather than let the chance slip. He was going in alone.
His spyglass travelled back to the flagship, Caledonia, he pictured the slight figure of Gambier, with his thin hair and worried face, twittering in indecision. Almost he felt pity. A decent man at heart, James Gambier, but he had no business commanding a fleet.
More signals from Imperieuse:- 1.30 'The enemy's ships are getting under sail.'
1.40 'The enemy is superior to the chasing ship' (The sails of
Imperieuse were unfurled now, the gloves were off.) 1.45 'The ship is in need of assistance.'
He's got you! Hornblower thought exultantly as he looked back at the flagship. You can't ignore that! What will it look like for you, if you don't respond and a public hero meets his death because you wouldn't face two ships with seventeen? And with his reputation he might just take down the fleet alone which would be even worse! Oh, he's got you all right....
Just after two the flagship signalled the frigates to go in.
The guns on Aix boomed as Lydia entered the channel but the firing was weak and ragged, and a little damage to the sails was all she suffered as the five frigates swept down on the French fleet, opening up upon the larger ships with all their power. Looking back, Hornblower could see four of the great battle-ships also approaching the anchorage: Caesar, Theseus, Valiant and Revenge. Gambier must have had third thoughts and ordered in more of the fleet. The French were in chaos, panic stricken, quite a number of the ships were still beached and he could see men leaping overboard and running frantically across the mud flats. The others cared only for their own escape, struggling desperately for the mouth of the Charente river, where they would be sheltered by the great guns of the guarding forts. He had never been in such a one-sided action. Never even imagined one. The men of Lydia were laughing and cheering as they worked the guns. Hornblower felt quite sorry for the French.
The fighting wore on through what was left of the light, directed now by Rear-Admiral Stopford from the Caesar. Boats were launched, boarding actions against those ships still beached. Those too were one-sided, the ships were such wrecks that the French were glad enough to be taken off them, little thought of resistance. Others blazed in flame, some still on the sands, but more struggling away from their predators, making good their desperate escape. Towards evening a ship set ablaze by her own crew blew up with a tremendous noise. Others were fired by their British captors. Battle did not stop with darkness, but it diminished, most of the large ships either taken or away. A victory without a doubt, although most ships had escaped they must be damaged and their crews demoralised. A victory, yes, but not the overwhelming triumph the battle might have been.
Just before dawn a signal from Caledonia recalled the ships-of-the-line. Four of the great French battle-ships were destroyed, the others escaped, except for the wallowing flagship, Ocean. Taking the Caledonia's signal as a general recall, the frigates began to peel off and rejoin the fleet. Reluctantly Hornblower ordered Lydia to quit the harbourage. The last he saw of the battleground Imperieuse and Seymour's little frigate, Pallas, were closed either side of Ocean like a pair of small dogs attempting to bring down a wounded bull.
It would take an unambiguous recall from Gambier to bring Cochrane in, and with his usual hesitancy the Admiral was slow to issue it. At last, however, Ocean was left to complete her escape. As far as Gambier was concerned the battle was over, and he had no desire to put up with this turbulent junior for any longer than was strictly necessary. Within hours of the recall Imperieuse was bound for England, carrying the Admiral's dispatches which would recount the battle for public consumption.
Oh! Admiral Gam-- I dare not mention beer
In such a temperate ear;
Oh! Admiral Gam-- an Admiral of the Blue
Of course, to read the Navy list aright,
For strictly shunning wine of either hue,
You can't be Admiral of the Red or White
Thomas Hood
*******
Hornblower scanned the signal with something close to disbelief. "Have a boat lowered, Mr. Bush."
"A boat, sir?"
"You heard me!" Nine miles out from the Basque Roads the British Fleet was receiving orders for the captains to board the flagship to confer.
It was now many hours since the first of two great explosions had rent the night. The French anchorage had been lit by fire throughout the remaining hours of darkness, and he could see distant flashes as the rockets left aboard the fire-ships went off. Still more revealing had been the signals that had begun to issue from the Imperieuse, Cochrane's ship, at first light.
5.48 'Half the fleet can destroy the enemy. Seven on shore.' 6.40 'Eleven on shore.' 7.40 'Only two afloat.'
The weather was too choppy for a boat attack - but only two afloat! Gambier had eleven battle-ships, six frigates and an assortment of smaller vessels. Only two afloat - the French fleet was at their mercy. Only two afloat, and the bulk of the British fleet hovered nine miles out, waiting for heaven knew what, while the tide turned ready to float the enemy fleet again. And now Gambier wanted to hold a conference.
The feelings in the flagship cabin were all too clear. Hornblower had realised that many of his fellow captains disliked Cochrane. He had not known they hated him.
'No cause to go in,' in different words and tone, that was the song that almost all were singing. No cause to go in and risk the ships. No cause to go in and add to what had been achieved already. No cause to hand a resounding triumph to that arrogant Scotch puppy - no one said the last, but the thought was all too clear. No cause to go in.
Gambier was saying that the object had been attained already, the fleet was aground and hence destroyed. Hornblower listened in stark disbelief. He knew Gambier had spent the bulk of his career behind a desk, but this was absurd! Only the rankest landlubber could be unaware that beached ships generally floated off at next high tide. They would be damaged, but they would not be destroyed.
He held his own tongue, no-one would pay heed to one of the most junior captains present. Only a couple of the battle-ship captains were in favour of going in, and it was plain they would be overruled. Gambier finally settled on proceeding to a position about five miles out, then dropping anchor, to be ready he said, if any of the French ships should make for open water. Hardly likely.
At noon Hornblower stood aboard the stationary Lydia, surveying the French fleet through his eyeglasses. They looked in a bad way, he could see guns being thrown overboard on some. Even once afloat, and that would not be long delayed, they could be no match for the British ships. But 'No cause to go in....'
He swept the glass backwards, focused on the Imperieuse, where she lay anchored near the channel entrance. Then he gasped. Surely the ship was. moving.
Not underway though, drifting into the anchorage with the tide, as though she had slipped her cable. Could so mundane an accident in truth have happened to Cochrane?
Of course it had not! No, this was deliberate. The man was going in alone, in such a manner that he was not obviously defying orders. He was risking everything, rather than let the chance slip. He was going in alone.
His spyglass travelled back to the flagship, Caledonia, he pictured the slight figure of Gambier, with his thin hair and worried face, twittering in indecision. Almost he felt pity. A decent man at heart, James Gambier, but he had no business commanding a fleet.
More signals from Imperieuse:- 1.30 'The enemy's ships are getting under sail.'
1.40 'The enemy is superior to the chasing ship' (The sails of
Imperieuse were unfurled now, the gloves were off.) 1.45 'The ship is in need of assistance.'
He's got you! Hornblower thought exultantly as he looked back at the flagship. You can't ignore that! What will it look like for you, if you don't respond and a public hero meets his death because you wouldn't face two ships with seventeen? And with his reputation he might just take down the fleet alone which would be even worse! Oh, he's got you all right....
Just after two the flagship signalled the frigates to go in.
The guns on Aix boomed as Lydia entered the channel but the firing was weak and ragged, and a little damage to the sails was all she suffered as the five frigates swept down on the French fleet, opening up upon the larger ships with all their power. Looking back, Hornblower could see four of the great battle-ships also approaching the anchorage: Caesar, Theseus, Valiant and Revenge. Gambier must have had third thoughts and ordered in more of the fleet. The French were in chaos, panic stricken, quite a number of the ships were still beached and he could see men leaping overboard and running frantically across the mud flats. The others cared only for their own escape, struggling desperately for the mouth of the Charente river, where they would be sheltered by the great guns of the guarding forts. He had never been in such a one-sided action. Never even imagined one. The men of Lydia were laughing and cheering as they worked the guns. Hornblower felt quite sorry for the French.
The fighting wore on through what was left of the light, directed now by Rear-Admiral Stopford from the Caesar. Boats were launched, boarding actions against those ships still beached. Those too were one-sided, the ships were such wrecks that the French were glad enough to be taken off them, little thought of resistance. Others blazed in flame, some still on the sands, but more struggling away from their predators, making good their desperate escape. Towards evening a ship set ablaze by her own crew blew up with a tremendous noise. Others were fired by their British captors. Battle did not stop with darkness, but it diminished, most of the large ships either taken or away. A victory without a doubt, although most ships had escaped they must be damaged and their crews demoralised. A victory, yes, but not the overwhelming triumph the battle might have been.
Just before dawn a signal from Caledonia recalled the ships-of-the-line. Four of the great French battle-ships were destroyed, the others escaped, except for the wallowing flagship, Ocean. Taking the Caledonia's signal as a general recall, the frigates began to peel off and rejoin the fleet. Reluctantly Hornblower ordered Lydia to quit the harbourage. The last he saw of the battleground Imperieuse and Seymour's little frigate, Pallas, were closed either side of Ocean like a pair of small dogs attempting to bring down a wounded bull.
It would take an unambiguous recall from Gambier to bring Cochrane in, and with his usual hesitancy the Admiral was slow to issue it. At last, however, Ocean was left to complete her escape. As far as Gambier was concerned the battle was over, and he had no desire to put up with this turbulent junior for any longer than was strictly necessary. Within hours of the recall Imperieuse was bound for England, carrying the Admiral's dispatches which would recount the battle for public consumption.