Breaking the Line by David Donachie Read Free Book Online Page A

personal oath to their sovereign only to break it. It was easy for him to understand the prevailing mood of the court, which was anticipation of a bloody revenge.
    Ferdinand would not hear of an amnesty, waving an imaginary blade to lop off endless traitorous heads. If the judges he had sent Troubridge were hanging renegades, the only question arising for the King was this: were they doing it fast enough? Yet when it was mooted to him that he should return soon to Naples to oversee the recapture of the city, he fell silent.
    Then news came from Troubridge that the French had abandoned Naples, leaving only a garrison at the most potent fortress, St Elmo. Almost simultaneously Nelson learned that a French fleet of nineteen sail-of-the-line had broken out from Brest, their supposed destination the Mediterranean, and the period of repose came to an abrupt end. The time had come to get back to sea.
    What frigates Nelson had were sent to range far and wide, to look for the approach of the enemy. Despatches were sent to Cadiz to tell Earl St Vincent that he felt confident if the French did come he could defeat them. Meanwhile, shifting his flag to HMS Foudroyant, he would take station off Naples. Would the King take command?
    It was left to the Marquis de Gallo to inform Sir William and LordNelson that the King’s Council felt it imprudent to risk Ferdinand’s person, on which so many hopes were based, aboard a ship that might well see action. The reptilian de Gallo was as much a realist as Sir William Hamilton. He knew that it was in Britannia’s interests to retake the city, which would be risky, even given Cardinal Ruffo’s successes. The forts covering the bay were held by committed Republicans. Let Nelson succeed and Ferdinand would reap the reward. If he failed, the King would be absolved of blame.
    ‘Of course His Majesty is conscious of what you do, Lord Nelson, and wishes you to know that he has complete faith in your abilities. Therefore he wishes to appoint you his personal representative.’
    Nelson sailed with full powers to make peace or war, and to hang whomsoever he chose.
     
    HMS Foudroyant, a dry, weatherly vessel, in much better condition than the battered Vanguard, led the fleet into the Bay of Naples. Nelson had aboard Hardy as his flag captain, Tyson, several officers and midshipmen, as well as Sir William and Lady Hamilton as interpreters. In the first week of June, the scene sparkled. Emma could believe, as she stood on the poop looking at the city, that it was as she had always known it. But the huge tricolour flying above Fort St Elmo disabused her of that idea; that and the gimcrack flag of what the rebels called the Parthenopean Republic flapping everywhere else.
    The bay was full of boats, but only one took the eye, a splendid barge canopied in red, bearing a great white flag with a golden cross. There could be no doubt of whom it carried, and soon Nelson made out the arrogant figure of Cardinal Ruffo, sitting on what looked remarkably like a throne.
    ‘I think we had best give our swelled-up priest a C-in-C’s salute, Hardy. Thirteen guns, if you please.’
    Sir William, standing next to Nelson, nodded sagely, knowing that it was wise to flatter Ruffo. The guns banged out, and Nelson imagined he could see Ruffo tallying them off on his fingers. The cardinal was piped aboard with all due ceremony, with smiles and greetings being exchanged. That mood was shattered by Ruffo’s declaration that he had arranged a truce with the rebels.
    ‘Then you must repudiate it,’ said Nelson. ‘You do not have the authority.’
    ‘I cannot,’ Ruffo replied sententiously. ‘I have given my word.’
    ‘Your cabin,’ said Sir William, quietly, the maindeck of a ship being no place for such a discussion.
    In fact, it was a full-blown argument, made worse when Ruffo outlined the generous terms he had granted the insurgents. These rebels were to be allowed two alternatives: they could return to their homes, as