Джулиан Стоквин - Persephone

‘We should do it!’ snarled Azevedo. ‘Anything less will—’

‘We do, and we lose our empire to the English fleet! Without our colonies’ revenue we become the paupers of Europe. Is this what you want?’

‘Fool! There is neutral shipping ready and willing to shift our cargoes or did this escape you, Rodrigo?’

In reply, the minister for marine commerce slapped his palms to the table and retorted, ‘It has clearly escaped you, Azevedo, what happened so lately in Copenhagen. The hard lesson there is that, should we not comply with their insistence, it shall be without a doubt visited upon us – a bombardment of Lisbon and seizure of our navy!’

A silence descended. Rodrigo shifted in his chair, then spoke softly: ‘What is not in contention is that our sovereign lord faces an insurmountable dilemma. Events are forcing themselves on us and one of only two choices is left. Either meekly to surrender to Bonaparte in all particulars, which will cost us our empire and probably the crown, or align with the British to stand and fight with them.’

‘A third is possible,’ observed First Secretary Joaquim Louriçal quietly. ‘Príncipe Dom João removes to Brazil out of reach of both, there to rule.’

‘I cannot abandon my people to flee in their sight. I will not do it.’

Louriçal shrugged.

‘All are pressing me to take sides with one or the other. This will be attended with dolorous consequences whatever is my course.’

‘Then—’

‘I have chosen.’

‘Sire?’

Dom João spoke firmly: ‘It is my fervent hope and prayer that in the very near future the offer of the Russians to mediate in this great war will be taken up by Great Britain to the infinite relief of all Europe. The British are hard pressed and, with the entire continent arrayed against them, there is little doubt but they must see where their best interests lie.’

‘So?’

‘I have given this much thought and have decided on a number of steps to this end. I shall declare war on the English, as Emperor Bonaparte desires.’

There were gasps and puzzled looks.

‘Sire, this is—’

‘Calm yourselves. I have taken the precaution of privily advising King George the Third of England that my declaration is in the nature of a form to satisfy Bonaparte only and that no offensive acts are contemplated against him.’

‘You will proceed against British citizens, the merchants and factors, confiscate their property and—’

‘I have been in consultation with my treasury officials. Full reparation will be afforded to those affected, provided they fall in with my motions.’

‘A counterfeit war.’

‘As will assure the emperor of the French of my best endeavour to agree to his demands. More than that, I have dispatched the noble Marquis of Marialva to Paris. He conveys my total subjection to the emperor’s will, with the gift of a casket of diamonds.’

‘Surrender?’

‘It will buy us the time we need, Dom Rodrigo. In addition he is to offer the hand of Dom Pedro, Crown Prince of Portugal and my eldest son, to any princess of the Bonaparte family.’

Into a stunned silence Azevedo said evenly, ‘There is no assurance that an armistice might be achieved in the short time remaining. Should we not take precautions – the defence of Lisbon, the military to take position?’

‘I will do naught to antagonise Bonaparte. The military movement against us is to be expected. A war-like gesture to oblige us to feel his power when he makes his demands. There is no question that he seriously intends to threaten me or my throne, only to bring Portugal and its empire to his cause.’

‘Then you shall do … nothing?’

Dom João looked offended. ‘Not so. This very day preparations are in hand for my removal into the Ajuda Palace in Lisbon town,’ he sniffed, ‘where I might lie closer to the bosom of my people.’

Chapter 10

Captain Sir Thomas Kydd took his place warily. That Smith had ordered an ‘all captains’ so late in the day implied something was afoot: the admiral was not prone to excitements. Had it anything to do with the dispatch cutter that had arrived several hours ago?

‘Gentlemen,’ Smith said, leaning back in his chair languidly and smiling benignly. ‘I trust I have not inconvenienced you at this time but I thought it meet to inform you of certain developments.’ In the tense watchfulness he made play with a lace handkerchief, then continued, ‘As they affect this squadron. I received a dispatch not an hour ago and in it were my orders. Gentlemen, Tsar Alexander has declared war on us.’

There was a stir around the table. Russia was about to join half a million soldiers to Bonaparte’s legions and had a fleet in the Baltic as powerful as that of the British.

‘You may consider anything wearing a Russian flag your legitimate prey.’ The amiable smile disappeared. ‘I don’t have to tell you that this is a serious turn for us. Especially when I’ve this day been advised of another. The Regent of Portugal, Dom João, has seen fit to bow to the Corsican and has in turn declared war against us.’

In the hard faces of the seasoned captains around the table there was now deep unease.

‘This means that, as far as I know, for the first time in the glorious history of our isles there is an enemy under arms along the entire shore of Europe – from the Arctic Circle to Gibraltar. Napoleon Bonaparte has finally succeeded in turning everyone against us.’

His smile returned. ‘But since when has England cowered from adversity? Europe lies under the tyrant’s heel but we have the rest of the world. Let’s help ourselves!’ he added wolfishly.

Grins returned.

‘In the matter of the Portuguese, how are we to proceed?’ Thompson of Foudroyant wanted to know.

‘As to a descent on their fleet? I would have thought nothing has changed. Should they feel disinclined to remove themselves from Bonaparte’s grasp, we deal with them expeditiously.’

‘Then, sir, may we be made aware of why are we not discussing the operation?’ he added delicately.

‘All in good time, sir.’

Kydd leaned forward. ‘Sir, should we not think to bring off our people now?’

‘Perhaps not yet.’

‘May I know why?’ Kydd asked, with an edge of impatience. There was a streak of theatricality in Smith that was most irritating.

Smith stretched and yawned. ‘For the good reason that I believe this entire business a bore and distraction from the larger war. Dom João’s actions are perhaps, on the face of it, a rational move. He’s saying that the French invasion of Portugal might be nothing more than Boney rattling his sabre, for even he would hesitate to devour a neutral country.’

‘Sir. Bonaparte has the example of Copenhagen before him. I cannot believe it’s in him to waste time in this way.’

‘You think so? I would have thought it more reasonable for him to achieve his taking of Portugal comfortably, simply by a show of force, thereby bringing them straight into his camp and their ruler his puppet.’

‘So Dom João is playing for time.’

‘By his notions of strategy. He’ll see how mistaken he is when the French walk into Lisbon and it’s all over for him. Damn the man! If he’d take up our offer and sail for the Brazils there’d be none of this pootling about uselessly with a valuable battle fleet. As it is, the blockade must continue.’

Pellew of Conqueror intervened quietly: ‘Nevertheless, sir, shall we not send away the transports with our people now, while we can?’

‘No. For the first, there is no immediate necessity. For the second, they’ll need escorting and I’m damned if I’m going to diminish my forces until I have to – I’ve few enough if Boney tries a sally from Rochefort. In any case, there’s every reason to hope this affair will blow over, and sad loobies we’d look if we’re seen to have panicked. Only when this Dom João has gone over in toto do we move, setting ’em on their way while we deal with their fleet.’