Up to now, opposing fleets fought by each getting into a line, one ship astern of the other, follow-my-leader fashion, and approaching obliquely until they were side by side. Then each ship had to try to drive its opponent out of the line. St Vincent had used these tactics against the French and Spanish at Cape St Vincent and (but for Nelson) they would have been as useless as they always were. At the Nile and Copenhagen, Nelson had successfully attacked the enemy at anchor. Now he could expect to be attacking an enemy at sea and, as he described it to the listening captains, the Combined Fleets of France and Spain would probably comprise a long line of thirty-four ships (unless more broke into Cadiz from Brest, or some such place, and reinforced them).
He lost no time in describing how he was going to surprise (and overwhelm) the enemy. The long line of thirty-four ships would probably be sailing with the wind on the quarter or on the beam. In other words, there would be a leeward end probably formed by the leading, or van, ships, and a windward end, the centre and rear ships.
If the leading ships wanted to turn back to reinforce the rear they would have to tack or wear and then beat to windward to get into position, zigzagging along the line.
We shall be outnumbered, Nelson said. He did not know how many ships of the line he would have on the day of the battle, but the British would be heavily outnumbered. So he would not even try to pit all his ships against the thirty-four of the enemy. No, he was going to attack and overwhelm one section of their line with two columns. Breaking through the enemy's line at right-angles, he would cut off the centre and rear divisions, leaving the leading ships sailing on to leeward and out of the fight until they could beat back to help the centre and rear - by which time the British should have captured several ships.
The two columns would in effect be two knives slicing a section out of a long snake. He would lead one column in the Victory, and Admiral Collingwood the other: two columns each of a dozen or so ships. But he wanted to lure the Combined Fleet out: that was his most difficult task. At the moment it was expected they would sail and head north to the Channel, to try to seize control of the Strait of Dover for long enough for Bonaparte to sail over the invasion flotillas he had waiting (in Calais, Boulogne and all the other ports and anchorages) to land on the Kent and Sussex coasts. It is only in England, on English soil, that the French can finally beat us, Nelson said, and Bonaparte knows that well enough: he is camped on the hills at Boulogne; all he dreams about is his troops getting on shore in England.
My fleet here, blockading the Combined Fleet in Cadiz, is all that prevents Bonaparte from sailing his flotillas, Nelson said quietly. If we let them escape us, Bonaparte's flotillas will sail. Quite apart from that, we have a large British convoy of General Craig's troops sailing to the Mediterranean to join the Russians in Italy. Any French or Spanish ships at sea will threaten General Craig and his troops. Unfortunately, Nelson admitted, no one knew quite where the general and his convoy were at the moment.
But, Nelson emphasized, the Combined Fleet would not be lured out by the sight of a score of British ships of the line waiting on the horizon ready to attack. Therefore tonight - as soon as the captains had returned to their ships - the whole fleet would shift fifty miles to the westward, leaving a couple of frigates to watch Cadiz, and another frigate and three ships of the line (because he did not have enough frigates) would stretch out to the fleet, each within signalling distance of the other, and then they would wait.
Provisions, Nelson said abruptly. He did not know how long they would have to wait off Cadiz, but the men of the fleet must be kept fit. That meant fresh provisions. Yes, most of the ships had enough salt tack and water for three months but salt junk eventually meant scurvy, so for fresh meat he would be sending a few ships at a time the eighty-odd miles to get bullocks from Tetuan, watering at Gibraltar on the way.
And he intended introducing Sir Home Popham's new telegraphic code into the fleet, as a supplement to the Signal Book. "I brought out copies for each ship: make sure each of you collects a copy when you leave."
Nelson then asked if any of the captains had questions, or comments. It was already obvious that the captains were delighted with Nelson's two-column, cut-off-the-head attack. Several indicated that they were in no rush to go down to Tetuan and so risk missing the battle.
And then it was over. Captains took their farewell of Nelson like excited schoolboys leaving for the holidays, and soon the great cabin was empty again except for Ramage, Scott and His Lordship.
"Ah, Ramage, now for your orders. First, I don't suppose you have anyone else on board who speaks Spanish?"
"Yes, a midshipman speaks it fluently."
"Is he Spanish?"
"No, sir: he is the nephew of the Marchesa di Volterra."
"Ah, the beautiful Marchesa you rescued on the Italian mainland." Nelson's face clouded. "But wait a moment, didn't I hear recently that Bonaparte seized her when she decided to go home during the Peace of Amiens?"
Ramage nodded. "Yes, sir. As far as we know she's still a prisoner - unless he had her assassinated. But three or four years ago her young nephew escaped from Italy, and she asked me to take him as a midshipman."
"And how has he turned out, eh?"
"As lively as the Marchesa. A fine seaman and one of the most popular people in the ship. Once he passes for lieutenant he'll be one of the best in the Navy."
"Well, 'uncle'," Nelson said with a grin, "the job I have for you doesn't require seamanship but you'll both need Spanish - and courage. You have good charts of Rota and Cadiz on board the Calypso?"
When Ramage shook his head, Nelson said to Scott: "Please go and tell the master to make copies of the ones we have. Mr Ramage must have them."
As the chaplain left the cabin, Nelson dived his left hand into the pocket of his armchair, obviously searching for a particular paper. Do I offer to help him? Ramage wondered. He decided against it: no one had fussed around the admiral while the captains were on board: Nelson seemed a man who overcame his own problems.
Finally he brought out a black folder held together by tapes. Holding the folder between his knees, he tugged at the tapes and then opened it on his lap.
"Ah, yes, here it is. Take this and read it."
Ramage walked over and took the single sheet of paper. In neat copperplate writing was a Spanish name and the name of a church.
"Now give it back," Nelson said, and as soon as Ramage had handed it over he said, squinting his good eye and holding up the page to catch the light: "Now repeat the name and the church."
Ramage did so, and Nelson put the page back in the black folder.
"You can guess the rest," he said.
Most of it, Ramage thought sourly. The clues were speaking Spanish and the name of a Spaniard in Cadiz, his address being somewhere near that church. Go and see him. Find out from him all you can about the enemy.
"I think so, sir," Ramage said. "Is he one of our agents?"
"I don't know about 'one of our'," Nelson said. "He's our only agent in Cadiz or Rota. A disaffected Spanish nobleman who hates the French. His name and - such as it is - address was written down for you by none other than the Secretary of State for the Foreign Department, which gives you some idea of the need for secrecy. This man's son-in-law is one of the Spanish captains commanding a ship in the Combined Fleet - with not much enthusiasm, I gather. Now, this nobleman has been passing his intelligence to Gibraltar, somehow or other, and he will not be expecting you. You will say you are a friend of the Secretary of State, who assures me that will be sufficient. Then you will ask him about the following."