“Let me say, Sir Charles,” he concluded, “that I am greatly impressed by the good order and discipline which is evident among the military formations I have seen in both Kent and Essex. That they will give a good account of themselves, should the enemy land, I am wholly convinced. Before we discuss practical measures of defence, however, I thought it appropriate to hear the latest intelligence about the enemy forces. If you agree, Sir Charles, I shall ask Mr Xenophon to address us on this subject, about which he is better informed, I believe, than anyone else on this side of the Channel. I think that we shall learn from him that our preparations, which some people think excessive, are in fact barely sufficient. Mr Xenophon.”
Mr Xenophon was a lean, hawk-faced man dressed in dark clothes which were intended, no doubt, to be inconspicuous. Carried beyond a certain point the effort to avoid notice is apt to make anyone the centre of attention, and this could have been said of Mr Xenophon. He spoke, however, with great confidence and clearly considered his own efforts as central to a war effort of which Lord Keith and the rest knew only the fringes.
“I shall arrange the intelligence we have collected under four general headings: the harbours on which an attempted French invasion will be based; the landing craft available; the troops to be committed; and the time of year at which the attempt will be made. As regards the harbours, it is now sufficiently clear that they are all between Etaples and Dunkirk. Boulogne, Calais, and Dunkirk are all important but Boulogne is the port from which the main effort will be made. Other places like Dieppe may have a part to play but it is not from there that the flotilla, or any part of it, will sail. Our concern is with nine harbours in all, centred upon a headquarters at Boulogne. Now, as regards the craft available, we estimate that there may be about nine hundred designed for the purpose and up to five hundred requisitioned fishing boats, tonnage enough for some seventy thousand infantry but with the total numbers still increasing. I come now to the troops actually in the area. I would not myself put the number at more than forty thousand men, but the engineers are laying out additional camps, perhaps doubling the accommodation now available, not all these camps being on the coast. What is significant about the Army of England, as it is called, is not its present strength but the presence there of some crack units which would never be used in a mere diversion or feint. Last of all, I should assume, as you do, Lord Keith, that the invasion attempt must be made between June and September. I have no actual information on that point but I should judge that arrangements cannot be completed within eight weeks and that October would be too late in the year. In Bonaparte’s place I should choose the month of July and would prefer the period leading up to the full moon. I should be made to realise, however, that embarkation of a large army would depend upon a week of calm weather, more than the Channel will usually offer.”
“Thank you, Mr Xenophon, for a very useful and clear summary of the facts known to us. Do you suggest, in effect, that the Army of England is to number seventy thousand to eighty thousand men?”
“No, my Lord, that would be too small a force to serve the Corsican’s purpose. To embark less than a hundred thousand would be to risk immediate defeat on landing.”
“Thank you, Mr Xenophon, I agree with you.” After a short pause he addressed the senior army officer: “Sir Charles?”
“Well, my Lord, I was surprised to hear no mention of cavalry or artillery.”
“We can assume, General,” said Mr Xenophon, “that Bonaparte will not have forgotten either, he himself being a gunner. We know, in fact, that some of the larger craft are fitted to carry up to fifty horses. But no cavalry regiments have yet appeared. My agents are all clear on this point.”
“Nor need it surprise us,” said another general. “If cavalry were now there in force they would have used up all the local forage long before July. The same would be true of the artillery. When they appear it will be because the invasion is imminent.”
“I am sure you are right, General,” replied Mr Xenophon.
“Agreed,” said Sir Charles, “but I question whether a force of a hundred thousand could be thought sufficient. I should be surprised to hear of less than a hundred and fifty thousand men being deployed.”
“The total may well exceed that number, Sir Charles, for all we know.”
“If it does,” said Lord Keith, “Bonaparte must be relying on using the same craft for a second or even a third trip. If that is so, he must choose the shortest sea passage.”
“We have no intelligence on that subject, my Lord,” replied Mr Xenophon.
“From Boulogne the nearest point would be Dungeness,” continued Lord Keith, “and I would assume that the invading army must land between Folkestone and Hastings.”
“Our assumption has been the same,” said Sir Charles, “but we have included Dover and Brighton among the points we must be prepared to defend.”
“Very rightly, Sir Charles. If Bonaparte should change his mind about this hazardous campaign—and it is my opinion that he will eventually cancel it—your military preparations will be a principal cause of his discouragement.”
“Your naval vigilance, my Lord, will give him still greater pause for thought.”
“Thank you, Sir Charles. But I should myself consider that his hesitation, when the time comes to give the order, must arise more from the inherent difficulties of the task. One consideration which led, I believe, to my present appointment is that I commanded, on the naval side, at the invasion of Egypt in 1801. My problem was to sail from Malta and to land about sixteen thousand men at Aboukir from over three hundred boats. I thus have actual experience of a large-scale conjunct expedition, more perhaps than most of my fellow flag officers. This Egyptian affair was an opposed landing under heavy fire but the presence of the enemy was, in truth, the least of my worries. To embark and disembark an army is no easy task at any time and the whole operation can be disorganised at any moment by a change in wind direction or a patch of mist. When confronted by the sort of difficulties I have met with, Bonaparte may well conclude that the thing he means, at present, to attempt is not even possible.”
A short silence followed, broken by Rear-Admiral Thornborough, who asked whether Bonaparte was likely to use any secret weapons. There were rumours, it seemed, of vessels driven by steam-engines, of new explosive devices, and even a boat able to travel below the surface. Had Mr Xenophon any facts on the basis of which these rumours could be supported or denied?
“All we know for certain, Admiral, is that the American inventor Fulton gave a demonstration of steam navigation at Paris and that his invention was rejected. His underwater boat was similarly demonstrated at Brest and judged to be impracticable. He is now in England, offering these and other devices to the Admiralty.”
“And if he has a sympathetic hearing from Lord St Vincent,” remarked Sir Sidney Smith, “I for one will be astonished.” There was some laughter at this.
“And I would share your astonishment,” said Lord Keith. “While remembering, however, that his lordship’s period of office may not be eternal.” This comment produced a murmur of subdued conversation, all being aware that the government’s fall was expected within weeks. “There are others aspiring to high office who may be less sceptical of innovation.”
Some further discussion followed but the general conclusion, summarised by Lord Keith, was that Bonaparte might be expected to attempt his invasion of England in July, that his army centred on Boulogne would number no fewer than 150,000 men, and that he would aim to land at points between Folkestone and Hastings. “Whether he will really make the attempt must remain to be seen and I have my doubts about it. These are nevertheless the assumptions on which we must act. If he comes, we must be ready for him.”
The conference came to an end and its members dispersed, Lord Keith and other flag officers going to dine with the Governor of the Castle, less senior officers dining together at the Dover Stage Inn. With them was Mr Xenophon, as conspicuous as ever in wearing no uniform. Delance
y found himself next to Captain Denham of the Eagle, who was inclined to ridicule the scale of military defence.
“What is droll to me, sir, is that Bonaparte has never understood the importance of our commerce. Success against us means, to him, his marching into London at the head of his army. But Lord St Vincent and his advisers have never been worried about that. Their fears have always been that the French would find means to intercept our East and West India convoys. London could be ruined without the entry of a French army. Fortunately for us, he never seems to have realised that we are more concerned about our trade than about his troops. I question myself whether our regiments here can serve any useful purpose.”
“I am much of your opinion, sir,” replied Delancey, “more especially regarding Bonaparte’s ignorance of where we are most vulnerable. But I think myself that our troops do more than add colour to the scene. Their strength will be known to Bonaparte and he is thus compelled to reinforce his Army of England. Granted that his men are veterans, he must have numbers at least equal to those that will oppose him. But each additional division or brigade makes his embarkation problem more difficult. His plan, so far as I understand it, is a staff officer’s nightmare.”
“I must confess my ignorance of conjunct expeditions,” replied Denham. “Wherein is the special difficulty to which you refer?”
“Well, sir, our conjectures as to the French strength range from one hundred thousand, minimum, to one hundred fifty thousand. Whichever figure we accept, we know that such an army must have room to camp and room to exercise. I have made inquiries about the Duke of York’s expedition to the Helder in 1799. I have even a note of the numbers and dates. He led thirty-five thousand men in all but where were they encamped? Not at Deal, not on the beach. Here at Dover? Impossible. All the accommodation and all the space is taken up by the garrison, by the men who are to stay here; and the same applies to Folkestone or Ramsgate. No, the bulk of the force was camped at Barham Downs, about twenty miles from Deal or two days’ march. Embarkation began during the second week in August and the first division sailed on the 12th. The second division sailed on the 26th. The head of the third division reached Deal on 7 September—five thousand strong—and embarked on the 9th. The Earl of Chatham, Commander in Chief, sailed on the 10th and the last brigade did not embark until the 12th. Using the sheltered anchorage of the Downs, employing ships as transports, and not mere rowing boats, and with the help of the Deal boatmen—probably the best boat-handlers in the world—it took Lord Chatham’s staff about four weeks to embark thirty-five thousand men. You cannot have men drawn up on the beach for days. You cannot keep them for weeks on board transport ships at anchor. They must assemble where there is grass for the horses and room to exercise. But Bonaparte’s problem is infinitely worse. Boulogne has some sort of shelter from the Bassure de Baas and there is a useful basin a mile up the river and another at Wimereux. But he has no proper transports and must rely on the flotilla of small craft. How long will it take him to collect one hundred fifty thousand men from the encampments up to thirty miles away? How long to embark them and how long before they can sail? At Lord Chatham’s speed of embarkation it would take him over four months; four months free of bad weather and free from interference by us!”
“I beg leave to suggest, sir, that Bonaparte is an abler commander than Lord Chatham.”
“What—abler than our future Prime Minister’s brother? Surely you cannot be serious? But even were Bonaparte four times as good—an almost seditious idea—his embarkation would still take four weeks of fine weather with the British taken completely by surprise. But what surprise is possible? Boulogne is the place and July is the month. No one at today’s conference is going to expect the attempt to be made from Toulon in December.”
Before the dinner ended, or at least before the party dispersed, Delancey managed to have a word with Mr Xenophon. Inquiring further about the Nautilus, he asked whether anything had been heard about her or a similar craft at Le Havre.
”I have had a report about that,” admitted Mr Xenophon, “and have not known what to make of it. There can be no doubt that the Nautilus herself is at Brest and has been rejected. If there is another such device at Le Havre she must be another vessel, similar in design but possibly an improvement. With Fulton in England, any other such craft must be the work of someone else—probably someone who worked with him on Nautilus. Do you think that such a vessel poses a serious threat?”
“I don’t know, Mr Xenophon, but I shouldn’t dismiss it as fantastical. There are three ideas under current discussion: the steam-vessel, the boat which can travel under the water, and the explosive device used at sea. Each has certain possibilities but what would be really dangerous would be a combination of the three. I suggest, sir, that Le Havre should be watched with care. We need to know of any plot that is hatching there.”
Chapter Eleven
WHEN WILL BONEY COME?
REAR-ADMIRAL Knight’s squadron was at anchor in the Downs when news came on 11 May that Addington had resigned and that William Pitt had formed a new government with the Duke of Portland, Lord Eldon, the Earl of Chatham, Canning, Huskisson, and Spencer Perceval. Replacing Lord St Vincent at the Admiralty was Lord Melville. News of the event reached Deal in a matter of minutes by telegraph, the semaphore system which had connected Deal with the Admiralty since 1796. If there was lingering any prejudice against Delancey at the highest level, it went with the removal of Troubridge and Markham. He had no claim on Lord Melville for any special favour but he could at least hope for a better frigate than the Vengeance. By reputation he was still the man who had destroyed the Hercule, a French ship of the line, and he might at least hope to be treated as well as anyone else. Knight signalled for all captains and gave them the news at once.
“Politics apart,” he concluded, “I think this a change for the better. Lord St Vincent is an excellent man, as we all recognise, but he was so intent on preventing corruption in the dockyards that he almost brought work to a standstill. Melville will wish to fight Bonaparte rather than the shipwrights and caulkers at Portsmouth and Chatham. He will also expect to see early results, the actions which will prove that a new energy is being applied to the war. Facing the French invasion flotilla we shall be relied upon to harass it. It is for me to make a plan but I am open to consider proposals from any of my officers.” There was an awkward silence, broken at last by Captain Harding of the Lizard, the senior captain present.
“I must confess, Admiral, that I am somewhat at a loss. We might claim, I think, that we have done all that is possible. We have no means of forcing an entry into Boulogne harbour. Lord Nelson himself planned the attack in August 1801, achieving nothing but a heavy loss of life and the loss of Captain Parker. He also discovered, at great cost, that the enemy gunboats are secured by chains, not by ordinary cable. Few of us would hope to succeed where Lord Nelson failed and the French will have strengthened their defences since his attempt was made. We could bring bomb vessels to a point within range of their defending gunboats but their fire would be wildly inaccurate as it always is. My own view, Admiral, is that we should let them alone until they actually embark their troops for the invasion. Then we shall catch them at sea.”
“Delancey?” said the Admiral.
“Were the decision left to me,” replied Delancey, “I should agree with Captain Harding. Encourage them to attempt their invasion of England. Keep out of sight and allow them to think it the easiest task in the world. Then catch them in mid Channel! But that decision, which I believe to be correct, will not satisfy our Members of Parliament. They will ask their lordships of the Admiralty why nothing is being done and that same question will then be passed on to you, Admiral. What are we doing against the French flotilla? What do we plan to do? I submit, sir, that we cannot reply ‘Nothing.’ As against that, I am utterly opposed to any plan which occasions a great loss of life. We can sacrifice men in order to defeat the enemy. I would never incur losses in order to placate the ignora
nce of Parliament. My idea, sir, is to make noise enough to merit a column in the newspapers, give all the appearance of energy but take the least possible risk.”
“An admirable solution in principle, Delancey,” said Harding. “Perhaps you will now go into more detail?”
“Now, sir,” protested Delancey, “you must be fair. I have given you the broad outline. I had expected you to contribute the rest.”
“Be damned to you! What do you take me for? A confounded magician?”
“Well, Admiral, failing help from Captain Harding, I will add one further idea. The enemy defences can be penetrated in one way only; by the entry into their harbour of a vessel they recognise as one of their own.”
“Ah, your captured gunboat?” asked Knight.
“No, sir. By the entry first of all of another gunboat which my gunboat will have captured.”
“Well, let’s have the rest of it.”
“I have not drawn up a plan in detail, sir. We were not told beforehand that our views would be invited.”
“That’s true, I’ll allow. Who else has an idea to put forward?”
There was a prolonged silence, the other captains looking embarrassed.
“Well, gentlemen,” said the Rear-Admiral at last, “I accept Delancey’s plan in principle. We have to do something to give proof of our activity. It is not a cause in which we are justified in taking a great risk with our men’s lives. It must rest, as a plan, on deception rather than mere force. With all that we agree. It remains to be seen whether Delancey can translate a vague idea into a real plan of action. How long do you need, Delancey?”
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