Renzi gave a grim half-smile. The intricate web of international commercial relations was now shattered, the delicate threads of trust and faith at the core of international trading, which allowed the continuation of life-giving commerce in the midst of global war. It wouldn’t be the sugar industry only, even if it was the biggest wealth producer, but also the goods pouring out of the factories as a result of the revolution of industry in which Britain was leading the world.
‘Then there’s insurance,’ Laughton went on bitterly. ‘When premiums go much above ten per centum, profit on the voyage dwindles to nothing and at present, for fear of what Boney will do next, the rates are beyond reason.’
‘So you are at a stand, Richard.’
His brother gave a bleak smile. ‘Except that it is not to be borne. While our ships lie idle we must pay a per diem demurrage to allow our sugar to rot in the hold, an expense we cannot carry indefinitely. Yet we cannot sail for lack of market and increasing insurance rates. To sail – or not to sail. Nicholas, this is a dilemma for us. It makes trivial a decision such as to go with sugar or is it to be coffee, and is for myself the hardest I’ve ever faced.’
Aboard L’Aurore Kydd listened soberly to Renzi’s account of the meeting in Spanish Town. It seemed his friend’s sense of foreboding had been fulfilled. Napoleon had delivered his devilish counter-stroke and, because it was in the realm of commerce and economics, the Navy were helpless to do anything about it.
‘I can find no comfort to offer Richard other than that we carry on to do our duty,’ he told Renzi. It was a strange and disturbing feeling, being under threat of an enemy that could not be settled by sailing out to meet him in battle.
‘Meanwhile our orders are the same. Keep the seas to put down any privateers or such as show their faces – although with none of our shipping abroad I can’t see how they’ll bother.’
Then he handed a letter across. ‘This morning’s mail. From our late and much lamented third lieutenant. As my confidential secretary I think you’re entitled to see it, old chap.’
It was in Bowden’s strong, neat writing but on the front and reverse it had ‘in confidence’ written in capitals across the top.
‘To you. And asking for advice.’
‘Yes – read on.’
… and so I suppose I’m asking you for counsel. I know my duty, that is clear, but the situation aboard has worsened to an alarming degree and I’m vexed to know what is the best course to take in the circumstances for the sake of all concerned …
‘Tyrell. Coming it the tyrant still.’
… the topman came down from aloft as bid, but before he could be seized by the master-at-arms he cast himself into the sea and was lost. The four men on deck who called out in horror were taken and are to be flogged for contumacy. Moreover the entire starboard watch are under stoppage of grog for a week, occasioned by his hearing wry talk at their supper and none to own to it, and are as a consequence mutinous and intractable.
What is most disturbing is what is happening in the wardroom. They are a sullen, moody crew, for all believe the other is carrying stories to Captain Tyrell, for he knows what each is doing and saying and they durst not venture an honest opinion. I keep my counsel if asked, for if pressed it would be difficult not to betray what I think to be the true reason, that is, the captain is constantly prowling and spying on us privily …
Troubled, Renzi looked up from the letter. ‘These are not the actions of a balanced individual, dear fellow. Has he—’
‘Go on.’
… while ashore he drinks himself to oblivion, but at sea he never touches a drop that ever I’ve seen. But for all that, the night watches are much put out of countenance because it is his practice to roam the decks under cover of dark – but curiously, if he encounters any man, he does not notice, looking by him and pacing on. Mr Kydd, I’m concerned that should we fall in with the enemy we shall not make a good accounting …
‘You’ll find some position he should take, will you not?’
‘How can I? Tyrell is captain under God and has done no wrong by the Articles of War. It’s the sea service and he wouldn’t be the first hard-horse captain hated by those under him. And on deck at night – does every mortal always command a good sleep?’
‘Still, I take pity on poor Bowden.’
‘If Tyrell had friends by him they’d ease his course but he has none.’
‘Of his own doing,’ Renzi said drily.
‘He has an unfortunate manner, true, but does it make him a lesser commander? As a King’s officer Bowden has a loyalty to his captain that must prevail over all. There is no other course.’