Invasion by Julian Stockwin

still greater if Spain moves against us, as it must surely do, but these are matters of high strategy and change from day to day. You will want to know more of what faces your own part of the field.
    In fine, it is the forefront of the battle. The invasion Grande Armée is massing with three corps—Marshals Davout, Soult and Ney, if you’re interested—with more than a hundred thousand picked troops ready to embark for the first assault, the Emperor Bonaparte himself to take command. For this, as you will know, he has been fast assembling the largest invasion flotilla in history with specialist craft only some of which we have knowledge of.”
    Kydd stared at the map. The dense-packed notations on the French side seemed endless, stretching away down the coastline. Across the Channel—so very close—a single line of dots and squares was brought right up against the line of the sea.
    â€œYou will be informed about the details of these vessels later. Take it from me that they are in their thousands and under the direct command of Admiral Bruix, a most experienced and canny officer. They have been in the building at every boatyard and river port on the coast and are being assembled at the main ports. To the north of Cap Gris Nez we have Calais, Dunkirk, Gravelines and so on to Ostend and Flushing, to the south Wimereux, Ambleteuse, Boulogne and Étaples, of which Boulogne has by far the largest concentration.
    â€œNow, Bonaparte is no sailor. He believes the Channel is a ditch to be crossed as in any other military operation, but he will find it very different. However, he is the devil incarnate in the arts of war and is vigorously pursuing great works to assist his cause. For instance, at Boulogne he is creating an embarkation quay a mile long and an artificial basin capable of floating a hundred vessels. He is not to be underestimated—some say he is mad, but it were folly to take him so. With his immense resources, and a surprise by your infernal devices or a feint at Ireland, he could be across in the space of a tide or two only. No, sir, make no error, we’re under the greatest peril that ever was . . .”
    â€œThen what is our force, sir?” Kydd said evenly.
    â€œStand fast the main battle fleets, we have three lines of defence against the immediate prospect of invasion,” Boyd replied. “The first is of sloops and gun-vessels, and it is the inshore squadron of Admiral Keith’s Downs command against the French coast,” he added drily. When Kydd held silent he continued, “The second is of heavier metal and consists of frigates and older sail-of-the-line and it is in with the English coast to contest any landing in the southeast, as well within the Downs command. The third may be found in every creek and estuary from Hartland Point in north Cornwall to Great Yarmouth on our east coast. By this I am referring to the Sea Fencibles, who at this moment are some twenty-five thousand strong and manning some eight hundred vessels of, er, all kinds.”
    â€œThen . . .”
    â€œQuite. The first line of defence must be our strongest. There is no doubt but that you must brace yourself for the hardest-fought struggle this age. I do wish you well in this, Commander.”
    â€œSir.”
    â€œWe’ll go on to the details now. Signals, chart emendations, the invasion craft and their characteristics as known, rendezvous positions—there’s much to take in. First we shall look into the new signal book . . .”
    Kydd was troubled and apprehensive. The mass of operational particulars had done nothing to lessen the effect of Boyd’s first words, that this was a situation of such dire consequence as had never been faced by his country before. Now, knowing the details, he was only too aware of the knife edge of chance factors that could determine the future of the world. As head of the entire military strength of the kingdom, the Duke of York had