Patrick O'Brian - H.M.S. Surprise

a great deal would depend on Braithwaite’s promptness in repeating signals. The hoist ran up, the signal-​gun fired to windward. ‘I shall give them a moment to brood over it,’ he said inwardly, paused until he saw the scurrying stop on the forecastle of the Alfred, just astern, and then cried ‘Ready oh! Helm’s a-​lee.’

This movement brought the Indiamen to the point where the Surprise had turned, while the Surprise, on the opposite tack, passed each in succession, the whole line describing a sharp follow-​my-​leader curve; and as they passed he stared at each with the most concentrated attention. The Alfred, the Coutts, each with one of his quartermasters aboard: in her zeal the Coutts ran her bowsprit over the Alfred’s taffrail, but they fell apart with no more damage than hard words and a shrill piping in the Lascar tongue The Wexford, a handsome ship in capital order; she could give the rest her maintopsail and still keep her station; a fine eager captain who had fought his way out of a cloud of Borneo pirates last year. Now the Lushington, with Pullings standing next to Mr Muffit on the quarterdeck - he could see his grin from here. And there were several other Royal Navy coats aboard her. Ganges, Exeter and Abergavenny: she still had water-​butts on her deck:

what was her captain thinking of? Gloag, a weak man, and old. ‘God,’ he thought, ‘never let me outlive my wits.’ Now a gap in the centre for the Surprise. Addington, a flash, nasty ship: Bombay Castle, somewhat to leeward

- her bosun and Old Reliable were still at work on the breechings of her guns. Camden, and there was Bowes limping aft as fast as he could go to move his hat as the Surprise went by. He had never made a man so happy as when he entrusted Camden’s guns to the purser: yet Bowes was not a bloody-​minded man at all. Cumberland, a heavy unweatherly lump, crowding sail to keep station. Hope, with another dismal old brute in command - lukewarm, punctilious. Royal George, and she was a beauty; you would have sworn she was a postship. His second-​best coat stood there on the quarterdeck, its epaulette shining in the sun: rather large for her captain, but he would do it no discredit - the best of them all after Muffit. He and Babbington were laughing, side by side abaft the davits. Dorset, with more European seamen than usual, but only a miserable tier of popguns. Ocean, a doubtful quantity.

‘Sir,’ said Stourton, ‘Linois is putting about, if you please.’

‘So he is,’ said Jack, glancing aft. ‘He has fetched our wake at last. It is time to take our station. Mr Church, signal reduce sail. Mr Harrowby, be so good as to place the ship between Addingion and Abergavenny.’ Up until the present Linois had been continually manoeuvring to gain the wind, and to gather his forces, making short tacks, standing now towards the Indiamen, now from them. But he had formed his line at last, and this movement was one of direct pursuit.

While the Surprise lay to he turned his glass to the French Squadron: not that there was any need for a telescope to see their positions, for they were all hull-​up -it was the detail of their trim that would tell him what was going on in Linois’s mind. What he saw gave him no comfort. The French ships were crowding sail as though they had not a care in the world. In the van the SŽmillante was already throwing a fine bow-​wave; close behind Marengo was setting her royals; and although the Belle Poule lay quarter of a mile astern she was drawing up. Then there was the Berceau: how she managed to spread so much canvas after the drubbing she had received he could not conceive - an astonishing feat: very fine seamen aboard the Berceau.

In the present position, with the Indiamen under easy sail on the starboard tack with the wind two points free, and Linois five miles away, coming after them from the

eastwards on the same tack, Jack could delay the action by hauling his wind - delay it until the morning, unless Linois chose to risk a night-​action There was a good deal to be said for delay - rest, food, greater preparation, and their sailing-​order was not what he could have wished But, on the other hand, a bold front was the very essence of the thing. Linois must be made to believe that the China fleet had an escort, not a powerful escort perhaps, but strong enough to inflict serious damage, with the help of the armed Indiamen, if he pushed home his attack As for the sailing-​order, there would be too much risk of con-​fusion if he changed it now, they were not used to these manoeuvres, and in any case, once the melee began, once the smoke, din and confusion of close action did away with the rigid discipline of the line and with communication, those captains who really meant to lay their ships alongside an enemy would do so the others would not

The tactics that he had agreed upon with Muffit and that had been explained to the captains were those of close, enveloping action the line of battle to be maintained until the last moment and then to double upon the French ships, to take them between two or even three broadsides, overwhelming them with numbers, however weak the fire of each Company ship If a regular doubling was not possible, then each captain was to use his judgment to bring about the same position - a cluster of ships round every Frenchman, cutting up his sails and rigging at the closest range.

Now, after hours of reflection, he still thought this idea the best: close range was essential to make the indifferent guns bite hard; and if he were Linois, he should very much dislike being surrounded, hampered, and battered by a determined swarm, above all if some men-​of-​war were mingled with the Indiamen. His greatest dread, after the doubtful fighting qualities of the merchantmen, was that of a distant cannonade, with the heavy, well-​pointed French guns hitting his ships from a thousand yards.

Linois vanished behind the foresail of the Addington as the Surprise glided into her place in the centre of the line. Jack looked up at the masthead, and felt a sudden overwhelming weariness: his mind was running clear and sharp, and the continual variation of the opposed forces presented itself as a hard, distinct point on a graph; but his arms and legs were drained of strength. ‘By God,’ he thought, ‘I am growing old: yesterday’s brush and talking to all these people has knocked me up. But at least Linois is still older. If he comes on, maybe he will make a blunder. God send he makes a blunder. Bonden,’ he cried, ‘run up to the masthead and tell me how they bear.’

They bore three points on the quarter: two and a half points on the quarter: Belle Poule had set her forestay-​sail and she had closed with the two-​decker: they were coming up hand over fist. The hails followed one another at steady intervals, and all the time the sun sank in the west. When at last Bonden reported the SŽmillante at extreme random-​shot of the rear of the line, Jack said to the signal-​midshipman, ‘Mr Lee, edge away one point; and get the next hoists ready: prepare to wear all together at the gun: course south-​east by east: van engage to windward on coming up, centre and rear to leeward.’

This was the aggressive manoeuvre of a commander eager to bring on a decisive action. Wearing would reverse the order of sailing and send the whole line fast and straight for the French squadron close-​hauled on the opposite tack- a line that would divide on coming up and threaten to take them between two fires. It would throw away the advantage of the wind, but he dared not tack all together- too dangerous an evolution by far in close order - and even this simultaneous wearing was dangerous enough, although a few minutes of edging away would make it safer. Indeed, Linois might well take it as a mark of confidence.

Now they had edged away from the wind; the line was slanting farther south, with the wind just before the beam. ‘Carry on, Mr Lee,’ he said, and turned to watch the repeating-​brig. The signals ran up aboard her, brisk and clear. ‘I must give the Indiamen time to make them out,’ he said, deliberately pacing to and fro. The slow-​match for the signal-​gun sent its acrid smoke across the deck, and he found his breath coming short: everything, everything, depended on this manoeuvre being carried out correctly. If they turned in a disordered heap, if there was irresolution, Linois would smoke his game and in five minutes he would be among them, firing both sides with his thirty-​six and twenty-​four-​pounders. Another turn: another. ‘Fire,’ he said. ‘All hands wear ship.’