frequent was the crack of signal cannon as hangings were carried out on the Neapolitan ships. But the routine of a British man o’ war went on. Hammocks were piped up each morning; decks were wetted, sanded, holystoned and flogged dry. Boats plied between ship and shore carrying ammunition and men. And Nelson was still to be found each morning pacing his quarterdeck, head bowed, gnawing on professional and private concerns. Was he right about the Brest fleet? What would theythink in London of his actions, and his questioning of Lord Keith’s orders? What was he to do about his wife?
‘Sir.’ Nelson looked up to see Pasco, looking bewildered. ‘There’s a fisherman come alongside, and from what one of the local marine officers tells me he is ranting about Commodore Caracciolo having risen from the sea bottom to come in on the tide and get his revenge.’
‘Nonsense.’ growled Nelson, then seeing Pasco’s face fall, he added, ‘forgive me.’ The lad was only conveying what he had been told to impart.
‘The King has been informed, sir.’
‘Not by you, I hope?’ asked Nelson, grinning. The thought of Pasco barking out such news to Ferdinand amused him.
‘No, sir, by his own fellow. The one who translated the fisherman for me went to tell him.’
By the time they made the main deck Ferdinand was there, questioning the near prostrate fisherman. Clearly what the man had seen had alarmed him because every sentence was accompanied by the sign of the cross, and a wild-eyed look at those who stood round him. Ferdinand was as superstitious as his subjects and was furiously fingering a green agate charm. The upshot was that Hardy, less than pleased, was obliged to raise anchor and stand out to sea so that the royal fears could be laid to rest.
The body bobbing in the water was unmistakably that of Caracciolo, and it looked as if his hands were still tied. The square head and firm jaw were recognisable, and the fixed stare seemed more threatening, the sea birds having pecked out his eyes. The noose that had killed him was still tight round his neck.
Ferdinand was mumbling prayers under his breath when Sir William came to the rescue: he pointed out that Caracciolo had only risen from the deep to beg his king’s forgiveness for his treachery – that his soul would never rest in peace without it. Ferdinand swallowed the explanation whole and shouted a hasty royal pardon at the bobbing corpse, which seemed, by the touch of a wave, to bow in acknowledgement.
‘Mr Pasco,’ whispered Nelson, ‘oblige me by getting that body out of the water as soon as we port our helm.’
‘Sir.’
Nelson was angry with himself. He should have ensured that what he had assumed had been carried out. But he was even angrier with the Neapolitan officers who had committed what he considered an outrage. How could Christian men who had sailed with Caracciolo and dined at his table behave like that?
Pasco didn’t relish the idea of touching the corpse, that was obvious by his look of distaste, so Nelson said, ‘Tow the body ashore and find a priest. Then ensure the Commodore has a decent burial according to the rites of his faith.’
4
Fort St Elmo surrendered on August 1st, the anniversary of the Battle of the Nile, and so became the occasion of a huge illuminated fête to celebrate both the victory and the man who had brought it about. Twenty-one gun salutes were fired to honour both sovereign and British admiral, all the Neapolitan ships were illuminated and a specially constructed Roman galley was rowed round the bay carrying a portrait of Nelson at the stern. Both Nelson and Hardy anticipated that King Ferdinand would now go ashore to reclaim his kingdom. Instead, he informed them of his intention to return to Sicily.
A second despatch arrived from Lord Keith, to tell his junior admiral that he had been out of touch with the French Brest fleet for more than three weeks, and had no idea of its whereabouts. Every available ship
‘Sir.’ Nelson looked up to see Pasco, looking bewildered. ‘There’s a fisherman come alongside, and from what one of the local marine officers tells me he is ranting about Commodore Caracciolo having risen from the sea bottom to come in on the tide and get his revenge.’
‘Nonsense.’ growled Nelson, then seeing Pasco’s face fall, he added, ‘forgive me.’ The lad was only conveying what he had been told to impart.
‘The King has been informed, sir.’
‘Not by you, I hope?’ asked Nelson, grinning. The thought of Pasco barking out such news to Ferdinand amused him.
‘No, sir, by his own fellow. The one who translated the fisherman for me went to tell him.’
By the time they made the main deck Ferdinand was there, questioning the near prostrate fisherman. Clearly what the man had seen had alarmed him because every sentence was accompanied by the sign of the cross, and a wild-eyed look at those who stood round him. Ferdinand was as superstitious as his subjects and was furiously fingering a green agate charm. The upshot was that Hardy, less than pleased, was obliged to raise anchor and stand out to sea so that the royal fears could be laid to rest.
The body bobbing in the water was unmistakably that of Caracciolo, and it looked as if his hands were still tied. The square head and firm jaw were recognisable, and the fixed stare seemed more threatening, the sea birds having pecked out his eyes. The noose that had killed him was still tight round his neck.
Ferdinand was mumbling prayers under his breath when Sir William came to the rescue: he pointed out that Caracciolo had only risen from the deep to beg his king’s forgiveness for his treachery – that his soul would never rest in peace without it. Ferdinand swallowed the explanation whole and shouted a hasty royal pardon at the bobbing corpse, which seemed, by the touch of a wave, to bow in acknowledgement.
‘Mr Pasco,’ whispered Nelson, ‘oblige me by getting that body out of the water as soon as we port our helm.’
‘Sir.’
Nelson was angry with himself. He should have ensured that what he had assumed had been carried out. But he was even angrier with the Neapolitan officers who had committed what he considered an outrage. How could Christian men who had sailed with Caracciolo and dined at his table behave like that?
Pasco didn’t relish the idea of touching the corpse, that was obvious by his look of distaste, so Nelson said, ‘Tow the body ashore and find a priest. Then ensure the Commodore has a decent burial according to the rites of his faith.’
4
Fort St Elmo surrendered on August 1st, the anniversary of the Battle of the Nile, and so became the occasion of a huge illuminated fête to celebrate both the victory and the man who had brought it about. Twenty-one gun salutes were fired to honour both sovereign and British admiral, all the Neapolitan ships were illuminated and a specially constructed Roman galley was rowed round the bay carrying a portrait of Nelson at the stern. Both Nelson and Hardy anticipated that King Ferdinand would now go ashore to reclaim his kingdom. Instead, he informed them of his intention to return to Sicily.
A second despatch arrived from Lord Keith, to tell his junior admiral that he had been out of touch with the French Brest fleet for more than three weeks, and had no idea of its whereabouts. Every available ship
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