Bolitho was still looking towards the poop and wondering what Draffen could suggest at this late stage.
“Damage?”
“Sounded worse than it was, sir. The carpenter is below now.”
“Good. Tell Mr Grubb to get his men to work on it as soon as he can.”
He paused as the first corpse was carried through the main hatch and dropped loosely to await burial. In the space of a few minutes they had lost seven lives. About one a minute.
Bolitho clasped his hands behind him and walked slowly towards the weather side, his face suddenly angry. Euryalus was the most modern device known to man’s ingenuity at making war. Yet an ancient fort and a few soldiers had made her as impotent as a royal barge.
He snapped, “I am going to see the admiral, Mr Keverne.”
“Sir?”
“I too have some ideas which I will put to him directly!”
Allday watched him pass and gave a slow smile. Bolitho was angry. It was about time the captain took charge, he thought, for all their sakes.
13. Second chance
Vice-Admiral Broughton looked up from his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
“We had not quite finished, Bolitho.” He gestured towards Draffen, who was leaning against the cabin bulkhead. “Sir Hugo was just explaining something to me.”
Bolitho stood firmly in the centre of the cabin which seemed vaguely empty without its more valuable fittings and furniture. These has been taken below the waterline for safety before the fruitless attack on the fortress. Nevertheless, Broughton was lucky to have been spared the usual disorder which would be found in a British built three-decker. Then, his quarters, like all the rest of the ship, would have been stripped bare, the normally hallowed cabins wreathed and stained in smoke from their own guns. But the nearest cannon were safely beyond the bulkhead, so that after the air of alertness and battle tension on the upper deck this cabin added to Bolitho’s sense of frustration and growing anger.
He replied, “I would suggest we act quickly, sir.”
Broughton raised one hand. “I am aware of the urgency.” He seemed to sense Bolitho’s anger and added coldly, “But speak your mind if you wish.”
“You have seen the fortress, sir. The futility of trying to beat it into submission from the sea. Using ships against sited shore batteries and defences has never, in my experience, been of any use.”
Broughton eyed him bleakly. “If you want me to admit that you advised me against such action in the early stages, then I will do so. However, as we have neither the facilities nor the strength for a combined attack, nor the time available to starve the garrison into submission, I do not see we have any alternative.”
Bolitho breathed out slowly. “The only thing which has made Djafou a thorn in the side of every maritime nation using these waters is the fort, sir.”
Draffen said shortly, “Well, Bolitho, that is surely rather obvious?”
Bolitho looked at him. “I would have thought it obvious also
to whoever devised this plan in the first place, Sir Hugo.” He turned back to the admiral. “Without it this bay is valueless, sir.” He waited, watching Broughton’s eyes. “And with it, this bay is still quite useless to us.”
“What?” Broughton sat upright as if he had been struck. “You had better explain!”
“If we succeed in taking the fortress we will still be hard put to hold the bay as a base, sir. Given time, the enemy, particularly the French army, would land artillery further along the coast and make the anchorage untenable for our ships. So we would be like the present defenders. Driven back inside that stone pile and able only to stop others from using the bay for shelter or whatever use they might see in it.”
Broughton stood up and walked slowly to the quarter windows. “You have still made no mention of an alternative.” He sounded less abrupt.
Bolitho said slowly, “Return to Gibraltar. Inform the Commander-in-Chief of the true facts, and I am sure he will give you the support and the ships for making another attempt to obtain a base.” He expected Broughton to turn on him, but when he said nothing continued firmly, “A base where we would be better placed to widen the scope of future fleet operations. Further east, where we still have friends who would be prepared to rise against their new oppressors, given enough help and encouragement.”
Broughton said, “You say that Djafou is useless?” He appeared unable to get it out of his mind.
“Yes, I do. I am certain that if the powers in Admiralty were properly aware of its conditions and facilities they would never have agreed to the first suggestion.”
Draffen said sharply, “In case you did not know, Bolitho, it was agreed on my suggestion.”
Bolitho studied him calmly. At last, after all the uncertainties
and missing parts to the puzzle, something was coming out into the open.
He said, “Then it would be better to admit you were wrong, sir.” He hardened his voice. “Before any more of our people are killed.”
Broughton snapped, “Easy, Bolitho! I’ll have no petty argument under my flag, dammit!”
“Then let me just say this, sir.” Bolitho kept his voice very even, although inwardly he could feel nothing but anger and despair. “Unless you put the squadron in such a position where we have more sea room to fight, you may be caught on a lee shore. With the prevailing nor’ westerly, and no space to regain an advantage, you will be in real danger should an enemy arrive here. In open sea we can still give the enemy a bloody nose, no matter what the odds prove to be.”
Broughton said, “Sir Hugo has already suggested a further plan.”
Draffen pushed himself away from the bulkhead. He was smiling, but his eyes were very cold.
“You have been too long on your feet, Bolitho. I am sorry I did not appreciate the fact earlier. This is my idea. It is only a framework, of course, but I am almost sure I can obtain the aid we now desperately need.”
Broughton said in a weary tone, “Sir Hugo’s agent can be contacted somewhere along the coast, it seems.”
“Exactly!” Draffen was relaxing very slowly. “I have had dealings with a powerful tribal leader. I have even met him on some occasions. Habib Messadi has much influence along these shores, and no love for the Spanish intruders!”
Bolitho replied quietly, “But we will be intruders if the Spanish garrison is made to go. Where is the difference?”
“Oh, in heaven’s name, Bolitho!” Broughton sounded angry. “Will nothing satisfy you?”
Bolitho kept his eyes on Draffen. “This Messadi is, I presume, an outlaw of some kind, otherwise how could he exert such power on a coastline like this?”
Draffen’s smile faded. “He is not the sort of man you would let loose in Westminster Abbey, I will allow you that.” He shrugged. “But to make this mission successful I would accept aid from Newgate or Bedlam if I thought it might help.”
“Well, Bolitho?” Broughton was looking from one to the other with obvious impatience.
But Draffen spoke first. “As I said to you earlier, one day Djafou will be discarded by us for something better. Like the proposal you have just made to Sir Lucius. Messadi controlled Djafou for many years and has no love for the French or the Dons. Surely it would be better to keep him as an ally, some additional thorn to prod the enemy’s side?”
Broughton snapped, “I agree.”
Bolitho turned away. Without effort he could see the yelling figures swarming across the Navarra’s bloodied decks, the terror on the crew’s faces when the chebecks had been sighted. And now Broughton was about to take such people as allies, merely because he could not accept the prospect of returning empty-handed to Gibraltar.
He said, “I am against it.”
Broughton sat down heavily. “I have great respect for your past record, Bolitho. I know you to be a loyal officer, but I also realise you are often plagued by too much idealism. There is no officer in the squadron I would rather have as my flag captain.” His tone hardened. “But I will suffer no insubordination. And if necessary I will have you removed.”