The Baltic Prize

Chapter 54

Kydd settled in his chair to let the forenoon routine on deck take care of itself. There was little reason to sweat the ship’s company until their orders came, and Tyger had suffered little in the Bornholt affair.

Keats had been cool when he’d reported; he’d bristled at the suggestion that Mason be disciplined for his near-fatal disregard of Kydd’s signal, and at Kydd’s pressing had brusquely wanted to know whether he was demanding a court-martial on the officer’s conduct. In the event the operation had worked out well and he’d no real desire to see the man crucified for what amounted to a personal slight so he’d let it go. The day and the field were Kydd’s and nothing could spoil that.

Saumarez had been both genial and congratulatory – in his difficult and trying situation there would be few occasions to celebrate but this was one, and he’d been at pains to indicate his satisfaction in the outcome, granting Tyger a full week of rest at anchor before rejoining the southern blockade.

Kydd sighed in contentment: nestled in his waistcoat pocket, next to his heart, he felt a warm glow that was meant for him alone. The Fleet Mail Office had delivered into his hands another letter from Persephone – an outreach of her being that had crossed whole seas to tell him of her love and passion.

He took it out reverently to read yet again.

My darling sailor-man!

Where will my letter find you in Neptune’s realm, I wonder and dream? Seeing sights of grandeur and majesty on the ocean’s billows without doubt, for which I’m quite filled with envy …

Kydd smiled as he read of her new friends.

It’s been such fun! You see, we’re all sea-widows here together in Plymouth Dock and we can go to places that we cannot when by ourselves. Each has her special gifts and we entertain accordingly. Oh, and when you’re home you’re promised to sing for us as you did before – at Saltram, do you remember? Oh dear, and I do hope it won’t be long, my sweetling …

How could he forget? She had come to his rescue by accompanying him on the piano when he’d hesitated before that noble throng.

Persephone closed with news of the estate, adding,

Mrs Appleby has been poorly lately but this will be the weather, which has been so spiteful these few weeks. We’ve been able to manage but …

It was still a thing of unreality that someone cared about him above all others. And, wonderingly, he realised he was no longer a rootless being, oblivious to where he’d fetched up among the random gusts of chance and Fate: now he had someone and something to cherish and adore.

A soft knock sounded on the door.

It was Bowden. ‘Sir. Probably nothing to worry of, but a Swedish cutter’s just entered the anchorage and sought out the commander-in-chief. He’s laying alongside now. Seemed in great haste and possibly has news …?’

There was no need to report this to Kydd, but if the cutter did bear consequential tidings, the very next thing would be an ‘all captains’ and a warning of this would be appreciated.

‘Thank you, Charles. If it’s news it can’t be good.’

Within the hour the signal was duly hung out and Kydd’s barge was among the first to reach Victory and see him mounting the side-steps and into the august portal.

Instantly he became aware of a charged atmosphere, a tense expectancy.

‘Something afoot, Puget?’ he murmured, to the captain of Goliath.

‘As you might say,’ the officer drawled imperturbably.

‘Well?’

‘It’s happened, is all. What we knew would. The Russians – they’re out. Made sortie from Kronstadt in force and are headed this way. God knows what-’

An unsmiling flag-lieutenant ushered them below to Victory’s great cabin and Kydd took his seat, pulse racing.

At last – the Imperial Russian Navy had made its move and had come out to fight!

There was now every prospect of a grand fleet battle in the very near future, the like of which had not been seen since Trafalgar.

If they were overcome by their foe’s colossal strength, the Baltic would be Russian and Britain’s crucial and only commercial life-line would be severed. Unable to bear the costs of war, a miserable surrender to Bonaparte’s will would then be on the cards.

‘Gentlemen.’ Saumarez looked drawn and old. ‘The Swedes have informed me that a Russian fleet of, at present count, nine ships-of-the-line and five frigates has left Kronstadt for the central Baltic under the command of Grand Admiral Khanykov. There is every reason to expect further increase by another route.’

Already this single squadron had numbers equal to their entire Baltic Fleet. All freshly manned, stored and, if rumour was to be believed, of new and deadly construction. And about to fight in their own well-known waters.

‘I need hardly state that this could not have occurred at a worse time for us, two of our sail-of-the-line under repair and half of the remainder on station with Admiral Keats.’

Meaningful glances were exchanged. This was close to three to one and even Nelson had not faced such odds.

‘Yet I would not have you despair. We have as allies the Swedes, whose naval assets are not inconsiderable.’ Catching Kydd’s eye, he added, ‘And by this I mean their deep-sea fleet, which is not to be confused with their archipelago fleet, lately destroyed at Sveaborg.’

‘Sir, I rather fancy that your term “allies” is a mite strong in the circumstances,’ Puget intervened smoothly. ‘After their somewhat languid showing with the Northern Expedition?’

‘There is a Swedish fleet commanded by Admiral Nauckhoff near equal in weight of metal to that of the Russians assembling at the Gulf of Bothnia. By personal intercession of this officer, our urgent assistance is begged when he sails to confront Khanykov. Naturally I have agreed.’

‘May we know who commands the combined fleet in this engagement, sir?’ Kydd asked carefully.

‘Ah. Therein lies a difficulty but not one to which you allude, sir.’

Saumarez looked pained and Kydd had a stab of apprehension.

‘This particular time is doubly difficult for myself, as their lordships have seen fit to lay a special service upon me of a strictly confidential nature that prevents me leaving this station. Any assistance given, therefore, is in the nature of a reinforcement only. Our ships will conform to the Swedish order of battle.’

The captains to a man stared at him in dismay. To face the Russians at last was one thing but to fight under a foreign flag and command was another. And a retaining of forces for this special service implied an even further reduction in those available to send against the enemy.

‘Your service, sir. Can it not be-’

‘No. The matter is too delicate. I remind you – the Swedes are of a number with the Russians and fight for their very survival.’ He looked down at his papers and when he raised his eyes it was with a bleakness that chilled Kydd. ‘To this end I am detaching Centaur and Implacable under Rear Admiral Hood to join the Swedes forthwith.’

Two ships-of-the-line only against the Imperial Russian Navy? This was rank madness!

Graves of Brunswick spoke for them all. ‘Sir, we’ve the Russians out in the open at last, our chance to settle with the villains once and for all. If we throw-’

‘Be silent, sir!’ Saumarez exploded. ‘I’ll not have my orders questioned!’ Pale and quivering, he stared the officer down.

Kydd winced. He’d never seen the fearless admiral in such a state. Only a dire circumstance, stretching his inner resources to their limit, could explain it.

Saumarez recovered himself. ‘Not only these will go but frigates and rated vessels in support.’

Into the shocked silence he listed the men-o’-war that would go to face the enemy. Besides the two sail-of-the-line, it would be just two frigates, Daphne and Tyger, and three sloops.