‘He was at San Domingo?’ Taking place earlier in the year, off the not-so-far-distant Hispaniola, it was said to have been the greatest fleet action since Trafalgar.
‘He was – and for his pains had his hat blown from his head by a great shot on his own quarterdeck in Northumberland. Never forgave ’em.’
There were appreciative chuckles while they did their duty on the spicy pepperpot.
By the time the cloth was finally drawn and the brandy had appeared, Kydd had mellowed considerably, the memories of the south continent now in full retreat. Cigars from Spanish Cuba were brandished, and in the blue haze he listened lazily to the ebb and flow of conversation. They were all post-captains and senior field officers at this august gathering, he reflected with pride, and he was here by right, damn it.
He pondered yet again on the turn of fortune that had taken him back to the Caribbean as a frigate captain. It seemed so distant, his time as a young seaman, almost like another life. Only in the Royal Navy was it possible to break through in society as he had done, from the common sort to gentleman with all that it meant in terms of respect, politeness and comforts. In fact, if he did well …
‘Dear fellow – do I see you content with life at all? That your elevated situation here at the centre of empire is not altogether a burden?’
‘Just so, Nicholas,’ Kydd said, in satisfaction, then hurried to add, ‘Yet never so good as if my particular friend was present. How are you?’
Renzi did not reply. A strange expression crossed his face, and he rose and paced about the great cabin restlessly. ‘There’s quite a different matter that concerns me.’
‘Oh? Please to tell your friend, old trout.’
‘It touches on your professional duty, which I’ve sworn never to trespass upon.’
There was something in Renzi’s tone that sounded a note of warning, but Kydd replied warmly, ‘Fire away, Nicholas. I’m sure I’ll appreciate your words.’
Renzi breathed deeply. ‘I’ve a nightmare that will not leave my mind.’
‘I’d have thought a rational sort o’ fellow like you shouldn’t have trouble dealing with such.’
‘You say that we’re to be concerned chiefly with keeping the sea lanes free of vermin. Not to be scouted, true, but in my bones I feel that we’ll soon be faced with much worse than that.’
‘That the French will make an attack? We all know they’d go on the offensive if they could, but we’re ready for ’em! Or is it something else ails you, m’ friend?’
‘It is. Napoleon Bonaparte. I keep seeing him sitting there in the Tuileries brooding over Trafalgar and what it means to his imperial ambitions, witnessing our empire growing and his fading away. He knows that this is, for the most part, funded by the produce of our Caribbean islands and he would stop at nothing to put an end to it. If it’s within his power to strike a devastating blow directly at them, as will deprive us of their substance, then at one stroke he reduces his most implacable foe to penury. No more subsidies to stir up the continental powers against him, no means to sustain the great Navy that protects them – in that event he’s well aware that the only course left us is to sue for peace.’
‘You’re rattled by the bugaboo Boney!’
‘No!’ Renzi drew up his chair quickly and, leaning forward, spoke as gravely as Kydd had ever heard him.
‘Listen to me! The Emperor of France is a ferocious conqueror with a brilliant mind. We should never, ever underestimate him, particularly when crossed. Since Trafalgar he’s all the time he needs to plot and plan a deadly thrust at our vitals, a terrible revenge. I feel it in my bowels that he’s contemplating a master-stroke. It’s a logical move for him – and so like the man.’
He paused to draw breath. ‘Let me mention just two that come to mind.
‘Properly planned this time, a battle group assembles needing merely a single sail-of-the-line from each of the Atlantic ports, but this easily outnumbers our Leeward Island Squadron. It concentrates on one major island, say Jamaica, sweeping contemptuously aside any resistance we can put up, and lands a strong military force. They need only take Kingston and Spanish Town and they have the island.
‘Moving quickly they retrieve their soldiers, leaving a garrison to tie down the troops we have rushed there. This time Barbados is invested – there are at least six landing places, which cannot all be defended. Bridgetown falls and with it the island.
‘In one move the tables are turned. They are in possession of our largest sources of production – and with it most of our ports and dockyards. From these as their base, they may descend on our possessions one by one at their leisure, all before word reaches England and reinforcements are sent.’