Quarterdeck(104)
‘You’re right – and damn wrong. Do you know that most of the trade out of Nova Scotia is your cargo in our bottoms, on its way to ports of the world only a neutral can reach? You stop an American and you sink your own trade.’
Kydd flushed. ‘You asked for views – I don’t know y’r details but this I do know: if you’re doin’ the same for the French you’re makin’ a hill o’ money out of it.’
Truxtun’s expression hardened, then a glimmer of a smile showed. ‘Well, as to that . . .’
It was the first that Kydd had heard of the true extent of the French attacks on American shipping and Truxtun’s tone left no doubt of his feelings. ‘If we don’t stand on our hind legs and fight ’em we deserve to be beat.’
He looked directly at Kydd. ‘You’re wondering why we don’t declare war. So am I!’ He glowered. Suddenly he got to his feet, crossed to his desk and abstracted a folded paper. ‘I’ll show you this,’ he said, in an odd voice. ‘It came in today.’
It was a single page, and bore the seal of the President of the United States. Kydd looked up in surprise. ‘Don’t worry, the whole world’s going to know about this tomorrow,’ Truxtun said heavily.
It began, ‘Instructions to Commanders of Armed Vessels, belonging to the United States, given at Philadelphia in the twenty-second Year of the Independence of the said States . . .’ Truxtun leaned over and stabbed a finger at the second paragraph. ‘There!’ ‘WHEREAS, it is declared by an Act of Congress . . . that armed Vessels, sailing under authority or Pretence of Authority from the French Republic, have committed Depredations on the Commerce of the United States . . . in violation of the Law of Nations, and Treaties between the United States and the French Nation . . .’ Truxtun snorted. ‘And what must we do?’ He tapped the last paragraph: ‘THEREFORE, and in pursuance of the said Act, you are instructed and directed, to seize take and bring into any Port of the United States . . .’
‘You see? It’s on. A shootin’ war against the French.’
Kydd stared in astonishment – everything had changed. ‘But—’
Truxtun interrupted him: ‘But it’s not. We haven’t declared war, the French haven’t. What kind of peace is it that requires me to fire into a Frenchman on sight? Some sort of – of quasi-war?’
Kydd was in no doubt. ‘Any kind o’ war is fine. This is thumpin’ good news – and c’n I say, sir, if we both have the same enemy then we must be friends.’
‘No! No – I didn’t say that. I didn’t say that at all. We just has the same enemy, is the truth of it. I’ll be doing my duty at sea and you’ll be doing yours as you see it.’ He took back the paper. ‘If it’s any clearer,’ he said gruffly, ‘I mean to say I hope we meet at sea one day – as equals, Mr Kydd.’
The convoy was finally ready to sail. Showers blustered in from the north in curtains of white, vivid against the sullen grey of the sky, and lines of foam-crested waves advanced seaward.
A sullen thump came from forward – the signal gun for departure; two cutters moved about the dozen merchantmen cajoling, threatening, shepherding. It was so similar to Kydd’s sailing from Falmouth, yet there was a difference: the lift of a head, the ringing shouts of the petty officers, the brazen size of the flag at the mizzen peak, the length of the pennant at the mainmasthead. This was a unique experience: to be aboard the first frigate commissioned in the United States Navy, and the first to put to sea on a war cruise.
Kydd stood out of the way, to the side, buffeted by the wind and with rain dripping from his hat brim. He was in no mood to go below. Although he was a spectator, he knew that no one would forget the day: a navy brought in just months from nothing to one that could execute the will of the nation. From helpless acquiescence to a sea force that would now go against the country’s enemy – and conceivably within hours.
He looked forward. Gindler strode ahead proudly, disdaining oilskins over his lieutenant’s uniform. To starboard the square, lofty lighthouse of Cape Henry lay abeam. With Constellation in the lead, the convoy left the haven of Chesapeake Bay and sailed for the open ocean to the east and all that lay beyond.
Standing out to sea the frigate lifted to the swell, new men staggered to the businesslike roll, while others sniffed the wind as if eager to be out to sea – or was it in anticipation of bloody action? The merchant ships bunched together close to the American frigate: there had been talk ashore of a pair of big privateers lying in wait and self-preservation was a strong motive for keeping station.