A Hard, Cruel Shore by Dewey Lambdin

Author:Dewey Lambdin [Lambdin, Dewey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250030085
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

HMS Sapphire did reap a few more prizes, even one upon which the new gun sights could be tested, but Lewrie’s hopes of being in “business” were pretty-much dashed. Still seemingly without escorts, the French convoys, sent out in penny-packets of three, four, or five ships to reduce the odds of them all being swept up by the dozens, seemed to spend more time huddled fearfully in ports all along the coasts during the daylight hours, and if any strange tops’ls were spotted by shore watchers, that was where they stayed.

If they did slink out of shelter round sundown, they ran without lights, making them almost impossible to spot, and put into harbour at the first alarm only twenty-odd miles further along on their voyages. If they were detected, and Sapphire gave furious chase, most of them managed to enter port long before the plodding, heavy two-decker could catch them up within gun range, making Lewrie imagine that even if he still commanded a swift frigate, they would have still escaped.

His officers and Sailing Master tried to console themselves, and him, with how much delay in the delivery of supplies that they were causing, even if they didn’t capture anything, how their very presence was freezing the process, creating one gigantic bottleneck, and starving Marshal Ney’s army in Northern Spain of everything needful, slowing their operations, perhaps even forcing them to remain in place in large garrisons awaiting the largesse that Paris promised them, but receiving only dribbles.

“It’s possible, sir,” a hopeful Lt. Elmes suggested, “that we are forcing them to land their goods in all these little fishing villages, and have to cart them inland from there. Think on it; long baggage trains using up all their waggons and draught animals, with thousands of troops drawn off to guard them. Would not that give the partisanos more opportunities to raid and bum the supplies, and kill more Frenchmen?”

“Mister Elmes has a point, sir,” Lt. Westcott contributed to the gloomy conversation over supper in the great-cabins. “The French planned to use the large port cities, Corunna, Ferrol, Gijon, and Santander, Bilbao … nice, sensible, easily protected, but now? Little land convoys scattered all over the lot, each one needing a squadron of cavalry, or a battalion of infantry to keep the Spanish off them!”

“You’re makin’ it sound like blockade duty, sir,” Lewrie petulantly replied as he idly shoved pickled vegetables round his plate. “Boring, excruciating, eye-glazing, dull blockade duty. We need to be after them, not loafin’ along and just watchin’ ’em!”

“Well, sir, if they won’t come out, perhaps we must go in,” Lt. Keane of the Marines suggested. “I will own that the last few weeks have proven to be stultifyingly dull to me, as well. What if we found an occasion for some cutting-out raids? Even if we don’t fetch the enemy ships out, we could set them alight and plant new fears in them.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more, Mister Keane,” Lewrie quickly agreed. “Hear, hear! A

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