Free Breaking the Line by David Donachie Page B

that we need. Like you, sir, I have had chimeras rear their head, fleets that turn out to be no threat, an evasive enemy that reports tell me is in three places at once or is not to be found at all. I cannot tell you how often I have heard that Guillaume Tell and Le Généraux are over the horizon, only to find they are snug in harbour. We operate, too often, in a fog.’
    ‘Quite,’ was all Keith could say.
    ‘It has ever been my way, even when, as a captain, sending a lieutenant away in a prize, to ensure that they know they are free to act as they see fit. My instructions are general, in that I would like to see them safe in harbour, but not at the risk of passing up any opportunity that presents itself.’
    That, too, was at odds with Keith’s method: he gave tightly written orders that he expected to be obeyed to the letter.
    ‘Before the Nile …’ Nelson paused, to let Keith acknowledge that the battle had been special, which he did with a nod. ‘… in all my conferences I stressed that any captain sighting the enemy was not to wait for my signal. By covering I hoped, in discussion, all the alternatives, I felt I could trust them to do as I would in the circumstances.’
    ‘You must be lucky in your captains,’ said Keith, with what he thought was unmistakable irony.
    Nelson missed it. ‘That sir, has been my greatest asset. Captain Foley sailed inshore of the French at the Nile without any request to me for permission to do so. I point to the success of that as vindication of my way. Therefore you will readily understand that on receipt of your orders I applied the same principle, adding my judgement to yours.’
    To damned well ignore them, thought Keith.
    ‘I knew you would agree with my dispositions once you had a chance to examine them.’
    The man’s confidence was staggering and, to Keith, impertinent. He was tempted to tear a strip off Nelson, but good sense made him hesitate. He had already told everyone at the Admiralty that Nelson was a menace. He had seen the depth of Nelson’s insolence now. In future he would word his orders to make sure that they must be obeyed, so that this pipsqueak could never wriggle out of doing as he was told.
    Nelson was still enthusing about his officers: Troubridge who had taken Rome, helped by a division of Russians. Alexander Ball, who had been made governor of Malta, even although Valetta was still in enemy hands, Hardy, Foley and the others, so that Keith reckoned they must fawn on the man. Then it was the turn of the Hamiltons, whom Nelson could not praise enough, Sir William for his long knowledge of Italian politics, Lady Hamilton for her connections to the court, which meant that he, as an admiral, was always abreast of the thinking of Ferdinand’s ministers.
    Keith had heard rumours of the Lady Hamilton business, indeed he had even discussed them with St Vincent before the old rogue went home. Some said she ruled the fleet, that Nelson was putty in her hands. Worse, that the Hamilton woman was so enamoured of the Sicilian Queen that ships that should have been doing what Keith ordered were kept in waters that suited the Neapolitan cause. That he would stop.
    ‘It is my intention to accompany you back to Palermo, Lord Nelson, so that I can form a personal impression of how matters stand there.’
    Nelson’s face stiffened. He had come all the way from Palermo to Genoa only to be told that they were going right back there, which to his mind was coming it pretty high. He was tempted to make some remark to the effect that St Vincent had been better in his manners. But the look on Keith’s face stopped him: it was as if the fellow was hoping he would say something untoward. And Nelson had come to smooth troubled waters, not rough them up.
    Nelson had not liked the sound of Keith from his despatches, and exposure to the reality had only served to confirm that. Even with his well-known habit of looking for the best in everyone, he could find little in this