An Eye of the Fleet Read Online Free PDF

cheered. He was joined by another as
Cyclops
’s crew roared their approval at the sight of
Resolution
sailing into battle. Drinkwater found himself cheering wildly with the other men in the top. Tears poured down Tregembo’s cheeks. ‘The bastards, the fucking bastards . . .’ he sobbed. Drinkwater was not sure who the bastards were, nor, at the time, did it seem to matter. It is doubtful if Tregembo himself knew. What he was expressing was his helplessness. The feeling of magnificent anger that overcame these men: the impressed, the drunkards, the gaol birds and the petty thieves. All the dregs of eighteenth-century society forced into a tiny hull and kept in order by a ruthless discipline, sailed into a storm of lead and iron death cheering. Stirred to their souls by emotions they could not understand or control the sight of puissant
Resolution
had torn from their breasts the cheers of desperation. It is with such spontaneous inspiration that the makers of war have always gulled their warriors and transformed them into heroes. Thus did the glamour of action infect these men with the fighting anger that served their political masters supremely well.
    Perhaps it was to the latter that the barely articulate Tregembo alluded.
    â€˜Silence! Silence there!’ Hope was roaring from the quarterdeckand the cheering died as men grinned at one another, suddenly sheepish after the outburst of emotion.
    Faintly across the intervening sea a cheer echoed from
Resolution
and Drinkwater realised
Cyclops
must appear similarly magnificent from the seventy-four. A shudder of pride and cold rippled his back.
    Before darkness isolated the admiral from his ships Rodney threw out a final command to his captains: ‘Engage the enemy more closely.’ He thus encouraged them to press the enemy to the utmost degree. Both fleets were tearing down upon a lee shore with off-lying shoals. By five o’clock it was nearly dark. The wind had risen to a gale and gloomy clouds raced across the sky. But the moon was rising, a full yellow moon that shone forth from between the racing scud, shedding a fitful light upon the baleful scene.
    At sunset
Resolution, Edgar
and
Defence
had drawn level with the rearmost Spanish ships. Exchanging broadsides as they passed they kept on, heading the leeward enemy off from Cadiz.
    â€˜Larboard battery make ready!’ The order rang out. Drinkwater transferred his attention to port as
Cyclops
was instantly transformed. The waiting was over, tension was released as gunners leapt to their pieces and the British frigate rode down the Spanish.
    The enemy was close on
Cyclops
’s larboard bow. Below Drinkwater a chaser rang out and a hole appeared in the Spaniard’s main topsail.
    Devaux ran aft along the larboard gangboard. He was yelling orders to the lieutenants on the gun deck below. He joined Hope on the quarterdeck where the two men studied their enemy. At last the captain called one of the midshipmen over.
    â€˜M’compliments to Lieutenant Keene, when his battery engages he is to cripple the rigging . . .’
    The boy scrambled below. Hope wanted the Spaniard immobilised before both ships, distracted by the fury of battle, ran down to leeward where the low Spanish coast lay. Offshore the shoal of San Lucar waited for the oncoming ships of both nations.
    â€˜Mr Blackmore,’ Hope called over the sailing master.
    â€˜Sir?’
    â€˜The San Lucar shoal, how far distant?’
    â€˜Three or four leagues, sir,’ answered the old man after a moment’s consideration.
    â€˜Very well. Post a mate forward on the fore t’gallant yard. I want to know the instant that shoal is sighted.’
    A master’s mate went forward. On his way aloft he passed Drinkwater who stopped him with a question.
    â€˜Old man’s worried about the shoals to looard,’ the mate informed him.
    â€˜Oh!’ said Drinkwater looking ahead of the frigate.