CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christmas Day and New Year's Day passed with Ramage and his men celebrating at the inn. The surly innkeeper's liking for free wine finally overcame his disapproval of all seamen in general and foreign seamen in particular and he joined in their party at Christmas with wary reserve. By New Year's Eve he had obviously decided the foreigners were more skilled than most in roistering, and an hour before midnight was too drunk to know what they were celebrating.
To Stafford's disgust he never offered a drink in return, so the Cockney, finally nettled by the Spaniard's refusal to pay for even half a bottle of wine.mixed the man's drinks, explaining to Jackson that he wanted to make sure the fellow felt so ill next morning he'd 'think the drummer's using his head to beat to quarters!'
Twice each day Ramage strolled down to the Muralla del Mar to look at the ships, but there was no sign of any hurried preparation for sea. At least two dozen great yards from the three-deckers had been lowered into the sea and towed to the mast house quay, where they had been hoisted up for repairs. Yet there were so few men working on them he suspected the Navy was short of wood or money to pay the men - or both.
He was also puzzled by the convoy of seventy or more transports that arrived from Barcelona the day before Christmas. They were all heavily laden, and rumours spread through the town that they were carrying large quantities of powder and shot, provisions, a couple of battalions of troops and a regiment of Swiss mercenaries.
Not one cask of cargo nor one soldier had been sent on shore, so obviously the convoy was bound elsewhere. Since it had come from Barcelona to the eastward and was not unloading in Catagena, it must be bound westward, probably for an Atlantic port. Would the Spaniards dare sail such a convoy out through the Strait without the Fleet escorting it? Decidedly not. But where could the Spanish Government be sending troops and munitions? The West Indies? Perhaps round to Cadiz - it was easier to transport materials by sea than land - though risky. Somehow the convoy seemed more significant than the Fleet.
The daily walk along the Muralla del Mar became a pleasant habit: the old man fished by night and mended his net by day, and always greeted Ramage with the comment that the guns had not fired so there'd be a good night's fishing.
Then on Monday, 30th January, the first thing Ramage saw as he came past the sail loft and looked across the ropewalk was that at least twice the usual number of men were working on the yards, several of which had already been lowered into the sea ready to be towed back to the ships. A glance at the ships themselves warned him the admiral had received orders - almost every one of them had swarms of men working aloft in the rigging while others were painting the ships from stagings slung over the side. In the Arsenal Dock several lighters were alongside being stowed with casks of provisions; others, flying warning red flags, were taking in powder.
The raid on the admiral's house must be that night. At any moment the admiral might decide to go on board his flagship. That, Ramage had known only too well from the time Stafford made the keys, was the greatest threat to his plan.
Originally he'd assumed the admiral would work at the house, and only when Stafford had left to test the new keys in the locks had Ramage realized that, although the admiral was living in the house, there was no reason why he should not spend the day working in his flagship, returning to the house each night. Fortunately a close watch had shown that although the admiral had gone out to the flagship for two hours the day after he arrived, he had not been on board since. And, significantly, his flag officers and captains, too, were all living on shore in hotels and houses.
However, since the admiral had obviously given orders for the refitting to be speeded up he might well spend more time on board - and keep his documents locked up in the flagship ... Ramage hurried back to the inn to check whether the admiral had gone out to the ship. If he had, then Ramage knew his whole plan was wrecked.
The gardener's hut was hot and smelly: obviously a donkey had recently spent several weeks in it, but since there was no window it was easy to shield the flickering candle. Ramage knew that even Jackson was on edge as they both waited for Stafford's tap on the door, signalling that he had returned from his raid on the house.
When the tap came both men jumped nervously and then grinned at each other shamefacedly. Jackson held a tin mug over the candle flame and stood shielding the remaining faint light with his body as Ramage quickly opened the door. Stafford slipped in and blinked as Jackson lifted the mug and the hut lit up. He handed Ramage a small bundle of papers.
'No trouble, sir. All in the top drawer. Only writin' paper, quills, bottle o' ink, sealin' wax, candle an' sandbox in the uvver drawers.'
Hurriedly Ramage glanced through the letters, careful to keep them in the right order. All had been sealed with red wax and several bore the superscription 'Ministry of Marine'. The first two were routine letters telling Cordoba's predecessor, Langara, that his request for more rope was refused because none was available, and he would have to make do with the gunpowder he had because although theMinister knew it was 'somewhat deficient in quality', it was the best that could be obtained. The third letter, addressed to Cordoba and signed by Langara in his new role as Minister of Marine, was brief, and after the usual polite introduction it said:
'His Catholic Majesty has indicated to the Minister of Marine that it is His Royal pleasure that the Fleet under your command should complete its refit with all despatch and sail under your command from Cartagena at the latest by 1st February to join those of His Catholic Majesty's ships already at Cadiz, which you will also take under your command. Orders have been sent ensuring these ships are ready for sea. Immediately upon your arrival at Cadiz you will report the fact to me, keeping your Fleet at twelve hours' readiness to sail, and further instructions will be sent to you...'
1st February - in two days' time. And for Cadiz, one of the greatest natural harbours on the Atlantic coast and Spain's main naval base! There must be quite a few sail of the line there already. Once they were joined by Cordoba's Fleet, His Catholic Majesty would have something like an armada ready. To do what?
Was this part of a great joint French and Spanish plan to launch an invasion of England or, more likely, Ireland? Would the ships, full of troops, sail from Cadiz and drive off the blockading British squadron at Brest and let out the French Fleet, so the combined fleets could sweep up the Channel to carry out a plan agreed by France and Spain aimed at destroying Britain? It must be something as vast as that for Spain to risk her whole Fleet. They wouldn't forget what happened the last time they sailed an Armada ...
Ramage suddenly felt chilled as he realized the fate of England might - probably did - rest on how quickly Sir John Jervis received the information written on the piece of paper in his hand, and which he had just read in a stinking gardener's hut by the light of half an inch of guttering candle.
After glancing through the rest of the documents he told Stafford to hold the letter while he unscrewed the cap of a tiny ink bottle, took a short quill pen from inside his hat, smoothed out a piece of paper he had brought with him specially for the purpose, and copied out the exact wording of the important part of the order. He then refolded the original order, put it under the letters relating to rope and gunpowder, and gave the bundle back to Stafford. 'Thanks. Go back to the inn when you're returned them. Right, Jackson, douse that candle and bring it with you.'