by Dudley Pope
With all the introductions over, Ramage murmured to Aitken, and later repeated to Southwick, his thanks for the reception. When the men were piped down from aloft and descended like swarming starlings, excited at the presence of the Marchesa and the captain's parents, Ramage said to Aitken: 'You aren't going to get much work out of them until we leave!'
'We're only doing the dockyard's work, sir,' he said sourly. 'Eighty dockyard men were allocated to get the guns and roundshot out. I haven't seen one of them. It took me three days of bullying at the Commissioner's office to get the hoys, and I began swaying the guns over the side with my own men just to get the job done. That damned Commissioner probably has those eighty men building a house for one of his friends - using Navy Board wood.'
'Probably,' Ramage said. He had seen long ago that corrupt transactions would be rated normal by the Navy Board; honest work was the exception. 'Now, all the officers are invited to lunch with us - providing you can supply enough chairs from the gunroom. Kenton, Martin and Orsini could use a form. And was that hamper of food brought on board from the yawl? Ah, there it is; Jackson and Rossi are carrying it below. My mother has packed enough for a ship o' the line.'
CHAPTER THREE
The family's visit to Chatham was still being talked about by Gianna, who had been excited at seeing again the men who had rescued her from the Tuscan shores and then sailed with her in Ramage's first command, the Kathleen cutter.
The Times and the Morning Post were delivered early that morning and Hanson brought them in on a silver salver, offering the Earl his choice. He took The Times, saying: I know you prefer the Post, Nicholas.'
The Countess pushed back her chair and stood up. 'You men will want to read your papers. Gianna wishes to visit her dressmaker again, so unless you want it, John, we'll use the carriage.'
'Good Heavens!' the Earl muttered. 'Sit down a moment,dear . . . Does the Post mention this?' he said to Nicholas without raising his head.
Ramage nodded but was engrossed in what he was reading. The Countess looked surprised and then slightlyalarmed, but when she saw that Gianna was about to ask questions she held her finger to her lips.
Finally the Earl said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice: 'Bonaparte's done it, the scoundrel!'
The Countess sighed, needing no more explanation, but Gianna said excitedly: 'What is it? Read it out!'
The Admiral looked across at his son. 'You read it, Nicholas: I'd like to compare it with The Times report.'
Nicholas flattened the page of the paper. 'Well, peace has been signed. The Post says:
' "We are officially informed that yesterday, the 1st day of October, the preliminary articles for a peace between Great Britain and France were signed in London between Lord Hawkesbury, His Majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and M. Louis-Guillaume Otto, Commissioner for the Exchange of French Prisoners in England.
'"It is understood that ratifications will be exchanged within two weeks, and that they will be followed by a Royal proclamation in which His Majesty will order a cessation of arms by sea and land.
'"According to the preliminary articles, five months from the date of the exchange of ratifications will be the longest period during which hostilities can exist in the most distant parts of the globe."'
As soon as he stopped reading, Gianna said: 'It gives no actual details, then? Just that the preliminaries have been signed?'
'There is a second article, which may or may not be official. The writer simply says "We understand . . ." That's often a way the government flies a kite to see how Parliament will react; sometimes it is simply gossip.'
'Read it out, anyway,' his mother said.
'I'll just tell you the main points. As far as I can see, we return to Bonaparte and his allies everything we've taken and he keeps everything except - Egypt. Anyway, starting with the West Indies: we return every island we've captured from the Dutch except Dutch Guiana but we don't return Trinidad to the Spanish.'
The Earl sniffed: 'That's Bonaparte punishing the Dons for making peace with Portugal without his permission!'
Nicholas nodded. His father understood the broader sweep of world affairs better than he. 'Denmark gets back the islands of St Thomas, St Croix and St John . . .' For a moment his memory flicked back to the Triton brig, his second command, drifting dismasted in the Caribbean after a hurricane, with St Thomas and St Croix in the distance.
'The Swedes get back St Bartholomew.'
A tiny island north of Antigua but one of the most beautiful in the Leeward Islands.
'France - well, Bonaparte gets back all the sugar islands except Guadeloupe. We lost thousands of soldiers and hundreds of seamen from sickness to capture them. Every capture raised a cheer in Parliament for the government. Now Bonaparte gets them back - by bluffing Hawkesbury, I suppose.'
Every one of those islands was as familiar to Ramage as Whitehall: St Lucia, and his attack with the Triton brig; Martinique, where he had seized Diamond Rock and captured a convoy, and his present command, the Calypso frigate, raiding Fort Royal - or Fort de France, as the Republicans had renamed it; Antigua with its mosquitoes and corruption . . .
'Now,' he continued, 'the Atlantic. We return the Cape of Good Hope to the Dutch, and Portugal gets Madeira.'
'So we lose provisioning ports on the way to India,' his father said. 'Hawkesbury is a bigger fool than anyone believed.'
'You flatter him,' Nicholas said dryly, 'because, in the East Indies, Malacca, Amboyna, Banda and Ternate are returned to the Dutch, although we keep Ceylon. But in India Bonaparte gets back Pondicherry, Chandernagore and various settlements along the Ganges.'
'It's unbelievable,' the Admiral said, his voice revealing his despair. 'We've lost so many lives and beggared ourselves and now we sign a peace treaty which would be harsh even if we'd lost the war.'
'We won the war and Hawkesbury and Addington have lost the peace,' Nicholas said bitterly.
Gianna said quietly: 'There is no mention of Italy?'
'Not of Volterra, but I'm just coming to Europe,' Nicholas said. 'We return the island of St Marcouf, Egypt goes back to the Sublime Porte, and the Order of St John of Jerusalem have Malta, Gozo and Comino restored to them. France has to evacuate Naples and Roman territory - that is the only reference to Italy - while Britain evacuates Corsica, which means Portoferraio, and "all other islands and fortresses she has occupied in the Adriatic and Mediterranean". And, across the Atlantic, we restore St Pierre and Miquelon to Bonaparte so his fishermen have a base . . .'
'Can I return to Volterra?' Gianna asked flatly.
Ramage gestured at his father, who was obviously leaving him to answer. 'Well, once the ratifications are signed, legally we are at peace with France and British subjects will be free to travel. Dozens will flock to Paris and Rome, I expect. But Bonaparte is going to keep the Republic of Genoa, Piedmont, Tuscany ... all the Italian states, including Volterra. At least, that's what the newspapers say, and I think they must have been given special information.'
'That doesn't answer my question, caro...'
He knew it did not; he was trying to evade it. 'You are the ruler of Volterra by right, custom, tradition and the will of the people. But Bonaparte invaded it - along with most of the rest of Italy - and this peace they are signing still leaves the French in occupation. I can't see Bonaparte allowing the rightful ruler back into any country he is occupying.'
'Why not? It is my Kingdom!'
'That would be sufficient reason for him to refuse . . .'
'This Bonaparte - he would be afraid that I would rally my people and throw out the French?'
'Darling, you might - and would, I am sure - rally your people, but you could never throw out the French.' He loved the way she always referred disdainfully to 'this Bonaparte', but the habit could be dangerous. 'You must not underestimate "this Bonaparte". His armies probably total a million men. You'd be lucky to raise an army of a thousand -'
'Nico!' she said angrily. 'Man
y more than that!'
'Cara, you must be realistic,' he said, choosing his words very carefully: he wanted to convince her, but if she lost her temper it was impossible to reason with her. 'While you have been in exile, the French will have set up a government, as they did in Genoa, and new leaders will have emerged in Volterra prepared to work with them. There -'
'You are not suggesting my people would cooperate -'
'I am not suggesting it, I am telling you. There are always men who cooperate with an occupation army. If Bonaparte had ever occupied Britain there would be men – perhaps even people you know - eager to cooperate to get some personal advantage. It is the same in Volterra. Some of those who did not choose to escape with you when Bonaparte's Army of Italy marched in - why did they stay?'
He waited for the question to sink in. After several long moments she said: 'They had land, family, responsibilities...'
The Countess said: 'Gianna, you know that's not entirely true; you've complained to me about some that you suspected were staying to collaborate with the French.'
Gianna nodded miserably. 'Yes, but it is hard to believe people can be so wicked!'
Ramage said harshly: 'They can be and they are. Bonaparte obviously set up a puppet government in Volterra formed by people you know. If they heard you were coming down the Via Aurelia in your carriage, you'd meet with a fatal accident before you were within a hundred miles of the city gates.'
'But supposing I keep my arrival secret?'
'Assassins would find you in the palace corridors.'
'Then why did not the British insist that Bonaparte withdraw his armies from Italy?'
'We are not strong enough. When a peace treaty is being negotiated, the country with the biggest army and navy has the most say.'
'But you have just been saying that Hawkesbury -'
'Yes,' Nicholas interrupted, 'Bonaparte has the biggest army, but we have the biggest navy, and our blockade of France has left his dockyards empty of timber to build and repair ships, rope and canvas. France is short of food. That's why Bonaparte started the peace talks: he wants a year or two of peace.'
'A year or two?' Gianna exclaimed. 'Then what happens?'
'As soon as his warehouses are restocked Bonaparte will declare war again. There are still places for him to conquer. Britain, for example, quite apart from Egypt and India.'
"Then why does Britain accept his terms? Why negotiate? Why not continue the war?'
'Because this present government is weak and doesn't believe we can finance the war any longer.'
'Finance it! Which would Addington and Hawkesbury prefer - to be bankrupt or prisoners of Bonaparte?'
The Admiral coughed and everyone glanced at him. 'The fact is,' he said, 'most of the present government don't have the imagination to see that ultimately that's the choice. The people in the country towns and villages can understand it, but not the Addingtons and Hawkesburys. Pitt has many faults, but when he's sober he is a brilliant treasurer.'
By now Gianna was weeping and both had the embarrassed attitude of men facing tears. Nicholas deliberately avoided saying anything to comfort her because the 'this Bonaparte' attitude had to be changed, for her own peace of mind and safety.
'So traitors rule Volterra,' she sobbed. 'Perhaps even my own cousins . . . Yes, they would do anything to hold on to their wealth and lands . . .'
'And get control of yours, too,' the Admiral said quietly. 'That is why people collaborate with an enemy - for power and material gain.'
Two days later a letter arrived at Palace Street from the Secretary of the Admiralty, telling Ramage to report to the First Lord next morning at ten o'clock. Evan Nepean, the Secretary, gave no hint at what Earl St Vincent wanted to see Captain the Lord Ramage about, but it was typical of the irascible old admiral that he insisted on using Ramage's title.
Gianna was sure Ramage was to be sent to some distant part of the world with news of the peace, but both Ramage and the Admiral thought it more likely that the First Lord, as a gesture towards Admiral the Earl of Blazey, was seeing his son personally to tell him that once the ratifications had been exchanged - within two weeks at most, unless Bonaparte thought of more outrageous demands - half the Navy's ships were to be paid off and their officers put on halfpay.
'You have to admit that you have no experience of the Navy in peacetime, Nicholas,' his father said. 'I have, and looking at your service - where you've been able to pack more action into a very few years than any half dozen officers normally experience in a lifetime - I can't see you being able to put up with the boredom.
'Yes,' he said, noting his son's raised eyebrows, 'sheer boredom. The Navy in peacetime is concerned with filling in the right number of the correct forms punctually, doing every sail order in the signal book in the minimum time, and covering the maximum amount of ship with the minimum of paint. Your service in command of a frigate will probably comprise dancing attendance on an admiral who has enough political "interest" to keep himself employed.
'At sea you and the rest of the squadron or fleet will be in company with the flagship. When the admiral says tack, you tack; when the admiral says wear, you wear. Everything you do, as the ship's captain, will be governed by a signal from the flagship, from hoisting your colours by the flagship's drumbeat at daybreak to lowering them at her drumbeat at sunset.
'In port - which will be most of the time - you will dance attendance on the commander-in-chief, for several reasons. You are a very "eligible" bachelor, and the admiral's wife will have at least a dozen young daughters or protégées she considers suitable matches for you. You have a certain fame as a fighting officer, so you will be required to attend all social functions arranged by the admiral and his lady to give ton which the proceedings would otherwise lack. And you should remember that one word spoken out of place could lose you your command: for every ship in commission in a peacetime Navy, there are twenty captains on halfpay only too anxious to take over, and a vindictive admiral can put you on the beach.'
'I think you are deliberately painting a gloomy picture, father,' Ramage protested, but his mother shook her head.
'If anything it would be worse for you, Nicholas,' she said. 'From your first day as a midshipman until now there has been a war, with action, opportunity and promotion. You have come to think of that as normal naval service. But it is not. You may spend the rest of your life without hearing another shot fired, with promotion depending upon the captains senior to you dying of old age, not being killed in action . . . Nicholas,' she said with a seriousness he rarely heard, 'I do not see you as a naval officer in peacetime.'
Ramage laughed because he understood what his parents meant, but they were also forgetting a point which they had discussed only two days earlier, when he had read out the reported terms of the articles of peace.
'You forget that we shall be at war again in a year or two. Bonaparte is only resting. If I can hold on to my command for a while, it means I shall be ready with my present ship's company for whatever the French have in mind. It's taken a long time to sort out these men. Now I wouldn't change one of them.'
Gianna, still upset at Volterra not being mentioned in the articles, and due to see Lord Hawkesbury next day, protested: 'You talk as if war is going to last for the rest of our lives.'
The Admiral said gently: 'It may well do for the rest of our lives -' he gestured to include himself and the Countess' - and much of yours. Remember, Britain is now alone. Austria, Prussia, Portugal, the Russians - all have been our allies at one time or another. We've paid enormous subsidies to persuade 'em to fight - for their own safety, incidentally - but now we haven't the money and they've neither the ability nor courage. Britain alone can't defeat Bonaparte: just think how many men he has under arms and how many acres of land under cultivation. Ultimately they are the two things that matter. If he can grow enough wheat to feed his people and has a big enough army to defend his borders, our blockade can't hurt him. In the peace he's now arranging he'll restock his wa
rehouses, as Nicholas says. Then he'll be beyond our reach. If he can last out five years he'll beat us because I'm sure we can't beat him: our people have been taxed enough, in order to try to save the Prussians and the rest of them.'
'And I shall never again see Volterra
'Perhaps not: you must always have that in mind.'
'So how can I argue with Lord Hawkesbury to have Volterra included in the peace, or the subject of a further treaty?'
The Admiral shook his head. 'My dear,' he said in his calm, gentle voice, 'we have not encouraged you either to see Hawkesbury or to think Britain can help you. Just remember that Jenks is a politician, not a gentleman, and you should treat him as such.'
Lord St Vincent's office was the next beyond the Board Room, high-ceilinged with a polished table on the far side, opposite the door and where the First Lord sat in an armless chair with his back to the window. His large head and a natural stoop made him appear smaller than he was.
The room smelled of guttering candles: St Vincent was usually the first to start work at the Admiralty, and the first officers he wanted to see would find their appointments timed for seven o'clock. Between seeing people - who ranged from captains receiving orders to politicians seeking favours for the nephews of friends - he attacked the papers neatly piled on his table, calling in the Board Secretary, Nepean, who often worked at the huge mahogany table in the Board Room itself.
The old Admiral wiped his pen with a piece of cloth and carefully placed the quill in a wooden rack before looking up at Ramage, who had been announced by a messenger, summoned into the room, and now waited while St Vincent went through the ritual of completing one task before starting another.
Unexpectedly he stood up and held out his hand. The two men shook in silence, and the Admiral gestured to the single straight-backed chair as he sat down himself.
'You've been busy since I last saw you. At the Duchess of Manson's ball before you went off spying in France, eh?'
'Yes, sir,' Ramage said.
'Since then you've been collecting a number of Gazettes.'
