‘I assume that everything is in hand for the review?’ said Napoleon.
The admiral seemed to wince before he replied.‘Sire, it is not safe to proceed.’
‘Not safe?’
Bruix gestured towards the rain-lashed window. ‘There’s a gale blowing. It would not be safe. I have given orders for the review to be cancelled.’
‘You do not give the orders here, Admiral. I do. And I ordered you to prepare the review.’
‘But, sire, in this weather it would be madness.’The instant the word was uttered Bruix realised his mistake and hurriedly tried to conceal the error in a rush of explanations. ‘The boats ferrying the men out to the barges could be swamped. The vessels are already overloaded with supplies and equipment. The moment they try to tack out to sea they might be blown on to the shore.’
‘Could be? Might be?’ Napoleon snapped. ‘Where is your courage, Admiral? Where is your determination to see your orders through? Have you no sense of duty?’
Admiral Bruix’s face coloured at the attack on his integrity. ‘I know my duty, sire. It is my duty to preserve the men and vessels under my command so that they are fit and ready to do battle with the enemy. As such, it is my decision to delay the review until the weather improves.’
‘I see,’ Napoleon replied icily. ‘Then it is my decision to dismiss you from your post, with immediate effect.’
‘What?’ Admiral Bruix’s eyes widened in astonishment.‘You can’t do that.’
‘It is done. Berthier?’
‘Sire?’
‘Inform the naval ministry at once. And then see that Monsieur Bruix is removed from our presence and sent home.’
‘Yes, sire.’
Napoleon swept his gaze away from the hapless admiral and fixed it on the nearest of the other naval officers. ‘You.What is your name?’
‘Vice-Admiral Chaloncy, sire.’
‘Well then, you will take command of the naval forces in the harbour, and give orders for the review to continue.’
‘Sire, I . . .’ The vice-admiral glanced helplessly towards Bruix and Napoleon slammed his hand down on the table, making the others jump.
‘Damn you navy officers! Is there not one man amongst you ready to do his duty?’
The third naval officer stepped forward at once. ‘I’ll give the orders, sire.’
‘You are?’
‘Vice-Admiral Magon, sire.’
Napoleon stared at him and then nodded. ‘Very well.You are now promoted to admiral. See to it that there is no further delay.’ His glance flicked back to the other naval officers. ‘As for you two, get out of my sight.’
By the time word arrived at headquarters to announce that the men had boarded their vessels and the review was ready to begin, the rain was lashing down across the coast and the sea was a heaving mass of lead-coloured waves, fringed with white caps and spume where the wind carried off the spray. The barges, under heavily reefed sails, and towing launches, battled to keep their stations as the flotilla prepared to sail past the imperial pavilion on the beach. Napoleon and his staff, wrapped in oilskins and clasping their hats on their heads with their hands, made their way down through the cobbled streets of the port and out along the strip of sand and shingle to the pavilion.
‘Wild weather, sire,’ said Berthier.‘I wouldn’t fancy being out on the sea in this storm.’
‘Storm?’ Napoleon laughed. ‘This is no storm, Berthier. Merely an unseasonable spell of bad weather. It’ll soon pass, you’ll see.’
‘I hope so, sire. For the sake of our men.’
‘A little seasickness never hurt anyone. Besides, they must be prepared to make the crossing in whatever weather there may be when our fleet arrives to clear the Channel.’
They reached the steps to the viewing platform and climbed on to the stage, which overlooked the beach and the sea beyond. In this slightly elevated position the wind was even stronger and the Emperor and his staff officers were forced to squint into the driving rain blowing in off the sea. Napoleon turned to the newly promoted naval commander. ‘You may begin, Admiral Magon.’
‘Yes, sire.’ Magon nodded to the signals officer and a moment later the telegraph arms above the pavilion swung into place to pass on the order to the flotilla.There was a delay as the sailors on the leading barge scrambled aloft from the crowded deck and shook out a reef. Slowly the vessel got under way and cautiously crossed in front of the pavilion before approaching the shore, while the other barges struggled to follow in the heaving seas. One by one they lurched forward across the waves in a straggling line, and then hove to half a league from the pounding surf. At once they dropped anchor, hauled in their sails and swung head into the wind.
Napoleon gestured to Admiral Magon. ‘Is this the usual practice, anchoring so far from shore?’
Magon nodded swiftly. ‘Of course, sire. Under such conditions the barges’ commanders dare not come any nearer to a lee shore.’
‘So what happens now?’
‘The unloading of the troops will begin.’
Berthier raised his telescope and watched as the longboats pitched up and down as they were hauled alongside the barges. He drew a sharp breath. ‘Is it safe?’
Magon swallowed nervously and risked a quick glance at his Emperor before responding. ‘I’m sure it’s safe enough, sir. In any case, the Emperor has ordered it.’
‘That’s right,’ Napoleon affirmed evenly. ‘And we will proceed with the unloading. The men are more than able to cope in these weather conditions. Isn’t that so, Admiral?’
‘Yes, sire. My officers are in no doubt about what they must do.’
‘Good.Then let’s see how they handle it.’
Napoleon and his staff fixed their attention on the nearest vessel as the sailors hauled a launch alongside and held it in position with lines and boathooks as the first of the soldiers clambered down the side of the barge. The launch lurched up and caught three men just as they stepped into it, sending two tumbling into the bottom of the boat while the third fell over the side with a splash. He was seen to struggle for a moment, arms waving desperately, then a wave passed over him, sweeping him away, and he was lost from sight.As more soldiers boarded the launch, another two men were lost, and then, at last, the sailors pushed the boat away from the barge and unshipped their oars. But as the wind carried the launch away it turned side on to an oncoming wave and capsized. The staff officers around Napoleon gasped, but he continued to watch without expression as a handful of survivors clung to the bottom of the boat, which floated low in the water like the back of a whale.
‘Sweet Jesus,’ Berthier muttered. ‘Those poor bastards.’
‘Yes,’ Napoleon said tonelessly. ‘Let’s see if we have any better luck with the next boat.’
Fortunately, the soldiers from the barge managed to board without incident and the sailors turned the launch smartly into the shore and rowed for their lives.The third boat was not so lucky, and a chaotic surge of foam along the side of the hull swamped her just as she was cast off, carrying away some of the men aboard before the rest panicked as the boat sank into the sea beneath them.Those who could swim struck out for the side of the barge a short distance away.The rest went down with the launch.