Chapter 12: Sir Winston Keller

November 1807

The squadron sailed past Cadiz out of sight from the coast. Sir Charles left three frigates and some sloops to maintain the illusion of a blockade for the few days they would need in Gibraltar. The rest sailed on for The Rock. It was hard work, beating up against the eastern wind, and it took them three days to reach their destination. Another ship of the line was lying at anchor, and the Asians stared at her. She was almost an exact copy of Asia. HMS Malta had been the French Guilleaume Tell before she was captured in 1800 just outside Valetta harbour, and she was the sister ship of Asia née Aigle. Her Captain William Shield was Tony’s senior by two years.

Once the squadron had anchored, the Portuguese fugitives were landed, no doubt adding to the acting governor’s woes. Next, the various cargoes were landed, an immense opportunity for the local ship chandlers. Many of the wares “secured” from French looting were costly, and the ships of the squadron stood to make good money.

The difficult situation notwithstanding, Sir Hew Dalrymple invited the officers of the squadron to dinner in his residence, an invitation that was of course accepted. On questioning the messenger, Tony ascertained that he should bring Harriet as well, and of all the captains, he was the only to be accompanied by his wife. He sent a billet, warning Harriet to be prepared for the dinner.

It was late afternoon when he was rowed ashore, wearing his Nº1 uniform, with silk stockings, gold-buckled shoes, and gold-embroidered hat. He walked the short way to the rented house where an excited Jenny Johnsen opened the door and led him into the small salon. It took Harriet not more than a few minutes to finish her preparations, and she greeted him with a smile and a kiss.

“I had not expected you to be back so soon, my darling. I already heard that you were able to evacuate the Portuguese court?”

“Yes, we were quite lucky. Is everything to your liking, here?”

“Yes, I like it. Everything is so small here, but we enjoy our stay. Shall we go?”

Smiling, Tony offered his arm and they left the house, strolling the short distance towards the Governor’s Residence. Uniformed servants received them and a page led them towards the dinner hall. One side of the table was reserved for the Navy captains. Tony and Harriet were seated according to Tony’s seniority. His Excellency had been able to recruit a number of ladies to provide the unaccompanied officers with table partners, and Harriet seemed to know a number of them already.

From the get-go, Tony sensed resentment between Sir Hew, the governor, and Sir Charles Cotton. The Admiral was the ranking officer at the table, sitting close to the Governor and his wife, but they barely spoke a word to each other. There was another officer present, a rear-admiral, whom Tony did not know. Captain Masters, sitting next to Tony, enlightened him.

“That’s Sir Winston Keller. He just recently received his flag, same time as Fanning. I fear he will be Cotton’s second-in-command.”

“Fear?”

“He’s old school, and a Bible thumper to boot, if the stories are true. The title’s a baronetcy, passed down to him from his grandfather. I doubt he ever fought any action. I know him from Plymouth where he commanded a receiving ship.”

“Why on earth did they post him here, then?” Tony asked incredulously.

Masters shrugged cynically.

“Look at Gambier. Bible thumpers are the rage of the season.”

The food served made Tony woefully aware of his luck having Nadine Blacket as housekeeper. He made a comment under his breath, causing Harriet to chuckle.

“I heard that Dalrymple is in over his head financially with this posting,” she whispered. “He looks worried.”

The evening proved to be boring in the extreme. Once the unspeakable dessert had been served and the guests rose from the table, Sir Charles led Rear Admiral Keller to meet the captains.

“Gentlemen, Sir Winston Keller is my new second-in-command. Sir Winston, Captain Paynter, my chief of staff. Captain Grindall of Prince, Captain Warren of Genoa, Captain Masters of Warspite, Captain Sir Anthony Carter of Asia and Lady Carter, Captain...”

Bows were exchanged with each introduction, but Tony noticed Keller’s eyes return to Harriet every few seconds. Well, she was a beautiful woman, and Navy officers rarely had a chance to feast their eyes on women. He dismissed it as only human.

“... Asia and Warspite will join Malta under Admiral Keller’s command.”

Tony whipped his brain to retrieve that last sentence from his subconscious.

“Gentlemen, I deem it as a blessing from the Almighty to have such distinguished officers serving under my flag. We shall sail day after tomorrow, to worry the Spanish and Portuguese coasts. Those transports, York and Caroline will sail with us and transport the marines under Major Thornapple.

“I look forward to knowing you better. Perhaps you gentlemen and you, Lady Carter, can grace my table at dinner tomorrow?”

An invitation from an admiral was an order. Besides, the captains were curious about Sir Winston. Tony groaned inwardly, however. He had counted on at least one evening in Harriet’s arms, but a dinner could last well into the night, and he could not sleep ashore without Keller’s express permission. He felt Harriet’s hand press his arm encouragingly.

At least, the dinner would be early. They bade their farewells and walked back to the rented house. The children were asleep already. Harriet gave Tony a mischievous smile.

“We are alone, it seems. Praise the Almighty.”

Tony grinned back. “I believe the time for worship has come.”

A half hour later, he rested in Harriet’s arms where she cradled his head, stroking his hair and forehead.

“I love you so much, Tony,” she whispered tenderly. “You are my life and my happiness.”

“To have your love makes me a blessed man,” Tony answered sincerely. “I wish I could stay the night, but...”

“I know, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Of course. I’ll try to come for breakfast, to see the children, and then again, we’ll go to Keller’s dinner.”

“I don’t like him,” Harriet stated decidedly. “He makes my skin crawl with his voice.”

“He’s not my ideal of an admiral either,” Tony sighed. “Why on earth did he receive this command?”

“I’ll ask father in my next letter,” Harriet promised. “Meanwhile, be careful. He’s likely going to see every flippant remark as blasphemous.”

“Well, at least, Asia is not his flagship. Darling, I need to dress and return to the ship.”

“Let me help you, darling,” she answered.

Using a wash cloth, she cleaned him up and helped him into his uniform. With a kiss, he bade her good-night and left the house. At the quay, the gig was waiting, and a scant ten minutes later, he was back in the Asia’s after cabin.

Dinner in the Malta was a stiff and uncomfortable affair. Keller kept a young chaplain as his secretary, and he had his guests sit through an abbreviated service before dinner was served. The food was barely up to the standards. Keller had never seen much service, and probably never won prize money. His flag was new, meaning he had not drawn rear-admiral’s pay for long, and this explained the lean cooking.

What was worse was the oppressive atmosphere. Keller discouraged any talk about naval affairs and kept bringing up religious topics. Neither Tony nor Masters could contribute much here, and neither could Captain Monroe of the York and Mister Malloy of the Caroline. Only Captain Shields seemed used or resigned to his admiral’s predilection and contributed the appropriate platitudes. Both Harriet and Tony were bored stiff when finally the toasts were offered, accompanied by a pitiful selection of spirited drinks.

When they left, Keller made it a point to acknowledge Harriet, wishing her a continued pleasant stay in Gibraltar, and asking her to convey his respectful greetings to Sir Richard Lambert. With Harriet hand on his left arm, Tony felt her apprehension and her dislike for the man.

On deck, waiting for the gigs, Masters gave a whispered comment.

“Now, that was a joyful evening, wasn’t it?”

Harriet, still holding Tony’s arm, giggled.

“I wish you much heavy weather to prevent further dinners in the flagship,” she whispered back.

“He’s a fount of merriment, isn’t he,” Tony added, again to Harriet’s giggle.

The gig brought Tony and Harriet to the quay, and he accompanied her to their rented house. He could not stay, but his farewell kiss left Harriet with a dreamy expression and weak knees.

With the dawn’s first light, the small squadron weighed anchor and made its way out of the Bahia de Algeciras. Once beyond the Strait, they sailed a west-northwestern course until they reached Cape Sagres. From there, it was less than a half day to reach the small fishing village of Porto Covo, their first target.

They came together in the Malta the evening before they reached Porto Covo. Keller appeared upbeat for some reason as he explained the plan to take the small village and its port and wait for the French and Spanish to react. Major Applethorn could assemble over six-hundred marines, and the ships would provide firepower if needed. After explaining the aims and the situation, Keller dropped the bomb.

“Captain Carter will command the landing force.”

Applethorn reacted with indignation.

“Sir Winston,” he began, but Keller silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Major, the landing force will be under the command of a senior Navy officer. Besides, Captain Carter is also a Colonel of the Royal Marines, I believe?” He chuckled over his weak joke. “You will be second-in-command, of course.

“Now, gentlemen, any suggestions on your part?”

“There are two forts, Sir Winston,” Tony pointed at the map. “For all we know, they may still be held by Portuguese troops. The French may have taken them, too. We must approach from the north. Once we have taken the port, we can make contact with the forts.”

Keller nodded reluctantly.

“That puts us in a tight spot if we want to surprise them in the early morning, but I see your point. Any comments, gentlemen?”

Masters shook his head.

“This is mostly a lee coast, Sir Winston. When it blows hard from the west, we’ll have to stand off from the land. That may put our landing force in peril when they have to reembark.”

“Yes, indeed. What can we do about it?” Keller asked curtly.

“Nothing, really, but we need to keep our eyes open.”

“That is understood, Captain. Now, tomorrow, we shall need every boat in the squadron. I have read up on the reports of several landing operations, chief of all the recent operation against Copenhagen. It is of utmost importance that the boats reach the beach in one single wave. The boats will carry swivel guns, to clear the beach of enemy forces. Once the beachhead is established, our forces will move decisively towards the village. Preparations for a defence will be made immediately. Any questions, gentlemen?”

“We are not holding on to that place, Sir Winston?” Tony asked, rather surprised. “Sir Charles explained that our strategy is to force the French and their allies into forced marches, to recapture our beachheads. Then we’d retreat and hit at another place.”

“Exactly, Captain. Yet, we shall let them bleed, too, before they can recapture our beachheads.”

“Sir Winston, once we have taken those forts, we should destroy them or at least destroy their guns,” Masters suggested.

“Why not take those guns?” Tony asked. “Those are old fortresses, likely two-hundred or more years old. They will have bronze guns, big ones, too. Say two and a half tons each. Fifty tons of bronze will yield a pretty penny at the Woolwich Arsenal.”