Napoleon in 1812

"A clear sky with a cool breeze... It's the perfect weather for fireworks."

An old man limped past the railing and appeared on top of the upper gun deck. The old man's name was Pierre de Vaugiraud de Rosnay. He was a royalist who had opposed the revolution and dedicated his loyalty to Louis XVIII, who called himself the king of France.

He was the hero of the Battle of Chesapeake Bay, almost the only naval battle in which the French fleet defeated the British fleet head-on. The sailors and marines on board expressed respect for the legend of the French Navy.

Until now, Rosnay had lived a relatively peaceful old life, training his juniors as the principal of the Naval Academy in Nantes. However, he was originally an admiral who had to live on the deck, breathing the smell of cannons and gunpowder.

'When the war breaks out, you will return as an admiral and become commander of the fleet.'

According to the content of the contract he made with the French Emperor Napoleon, Rosnay took the command of the fleet after a long time. Between the salty and bitter winds of the Mediterranean Sea passing through his face, he felt the energy of the battleship.

His feeling of living on the dock and deck all his life told him. A fatal battle would soon take place here. Rosnay turned his head without loosening his clasped hands. He could see his comrades fighting back to back in the battle to come.

"It may be a moment that will remain in the history of the Empire, but why are your expressions so dark? Don't tell me you're still afraid of the illusion of pirates from the island country, are you?"

"No, Admiral!"

"Tsk tsk, you faintly weak guys. I'm almost 80 years old, and I'm standing on the deck..."

Rosnay clicked his tongue, saying that young people had no spirit these days, took out a telescope from his sleeve and looked at the sea. Soon after, he began to see colorful banners coming from afar with the wind. Their symbol, the Union Jack, hung from the highest sail.

'I expected the match against them around the middle of the war. I didn't know we would face each other this quickly.'

The Emperor and other imperial command seemed to intend to decorate the prelude to the Great War with a naval battle victory.

If the Empire, which was invincible on land but fragile at sea, could win against the world's best maritime hegemony, it would be able to gain the momentum of war properly.

In the midst of tension, the experienced admiral smiled confidently. If so, it would be reasonable to assume that it satisfied that demand.

"The men of the sea should be tough and strong. In other words, you should be calmer than a rifleman, more courageous than a grenadier, and more reckless than a cuirassier! Judging from this weak mental state, you've been trained in vain so far 1"

Drennan came down from the stern while chewing a cigarette. He was an Irish ghost who had drifted from place to place after the failed revolution in Ireland, and was promised independence and sovereignty of his country by the imperial government in exchange for fighting for France.

"Hehe, is that why you've been criticizing me for being the principal of the naval academy?"

"Well, if Your Excellency the Admiral thinks so, it might be."

Drennan did not hide his dissatisfaction with the situation as he had to fight on a battlefield at an unwanted time.

"It's hard enough to keep up with those vicious bastards, but if you rush to meet the orders and timelines of your superiors, you can't avoid being humiliated. Can you handle the current situation of the sailors and the marines?"

"What are you worried about when the island pirates are not even three-headed monsters like Cerberus guarding the door of the underworld? They are just poor creatures like us, whose heads can be smashed and whose limbs can be broken. Besides, aren't we protected by naval heroes?"

Drennan could not refute Rosnay's words as he stroked the railing of the deck. Currently, the fleet led by Admiral Rosnay was a new fleet created by consolidating the marine capabilities available to the French Empire.

Among them, there was the best battleship of the Empire produced under the cooperation of prominent craftsmen using the finest wood. 'La Ruyter' was the name of the ship that Admiral Rosnay and Drennan were currently on.

This majestic sea monster had three gun decks with 114 cannons, and its crew was composed of the most experienced sailors and marines and the graduates from the naval academy with the highest grades who had been commissioned as officers.

It would probably leave a strong imprint on the Royal Navy approaching from beyond the ocean.

Booml Boom! Boom!

The first fire flew from the British fleet's artillery. However, this was not a shot to neutralize enemy ships when naval warfare began. It sent a signal to distant enemy ships.

It had been a long-standing custom for European naval forces to temporarily lower their flags and to fire a cannon on the opposite side of the fleet, to inquire about their willingness to engage in battle or surrender, or to exchange conversations between admirals or captains before battle.

"You need to know who your enemy is. So that you can answer accordingly."

At the order of Admiral Rosnay, the French new fleet also fired. It was the tense moment when both fleets lined up side by side and look at each other while riding the waves. The admirals of the two fleets planned to meet on an island in a neutral area.

"It's both nice and unfortunate to see Your Excellency the Marquis again in a place like this and in this situation. I would like to express my sadness for your absence of the past years."

"Long time no see. But don't call me Marquis. When I returned to the Empire, I gave up all the titles and honors of the days when I was a member of the royalist faction."

Rosnay firmly responded by mentioning his current position to an old officer who had served with him in the army of Conde (the royalist army). The officer guided Rosnay with a bitter smile as if he could not help it.

The place where the British and French admirals faced each other was a small rocky island in the northeast of the Balearic Sea. They greeted each other, and Plymouth Tasman, the commander of the British fleet who called Rosnay here, opened his mouth first.

"I didn't know that the French admiral would come all the way here to greet me in the face of the Kingdom's fleet. And that it would be a long retired admiral

like you. I'd like to ask you first if this is really what your country intended or if it's your own active judgment?"

"It was the command's decision, but I also agreed with it. As the commander of the fleet, should I miss a golden opportunity to intercept the ships of an

enemy country that have sailed 1,500 km from Gibraltar through the rough winter sea of the Mediterranean Sea?"

Admiral Rosnay said that and laughed. At his provocation that meant 'You will be fish food here', British officers laughed while raising their eyebrows.

They showed the ridiculousness of their absolute confidence that they wou Id not lose in the sea. However, Admiral Rosnay had a real belief.

The fleet stationed in Gibraltar, which usually anchored in Gibraltar and defended Britain's maritime trade rights in the Mediterranean Sea, departed immediately after the war began, and its destination was, of course, the southern coast and major ports of France.

In order for the blockade network, which the maritime empire boasted, to be restarted, a forward base was needed to anchor the fleet and supply the sailors, and that was the British island of Menorca.

In other words, it was inevitable for the British fleet to pass through the sea route between Gibraltar and Menorca Island.

The imperial government obtained the exact departure date of the stationed fleet through several smuggling routes, and was able to intercept the British fleet after calculating the time based on the sailing speed of the ships.

All of this was not a coincidence, but collaboration made through elaborate calculations and plans.

'In the end... Even the order that seemed unreasonable at first glance looks now to have been the best move in the current situation.'

Even luck was following the Empire. A country loved by God would never be defeated.

The fleets representing the two countries, and the two admirals representing the fleets, could not reach an agreement, and it was now time to have a dialogue of power on the ocean.

Seeing Britain's proud battleships opening their guns at once and approaching the original formation of the French fleet was enough to tension the crew of the new fleet.

The overwhelming record that the Royal Navy had accumulated so far, the fear of battle, and the Union Jack flapping over the ocean. It was a fear and pressure that the French had no choice but to bear, so they had to overcome it with their own hands.

"You remember the name of the legendary naval master who buried the most British warships in history and drove Britain to the brink of defeat, right? As you all know, this flagship is named after this hero."

Michiel de Ruyter. Europe's No. 1 admiral, a hero of the British-Dutch War, surpassing Horatio Nelson. The French flagship 'La Ruyter' was named after him.

"Our merciful and brilliant Emperor tried to use my name shamelessly. However, I flatly rejected His Majesty's proposal. It was because I wanted to remind you of the weight of Ruyter's name. My name is quite well known, but how dare I compare myself to Ruyter!"

The admiral's self-mockery humor caused laughter among the sailors and marines. Rosnay laughed with them.

"The Empire led by His Majesty is a country of tolerance. True to its name, it is not enough to accept countless immigrants, ethnic groups, and refugees from countries with forgotten names, but even rebels of the Empire are hired without hesitation."

The power to unite various people. It was a strong and tough principle to defeat the British. Large and small resentments built up as their families and friends were hurt by the British tyranny and oppressed by Britain. It was the driving force moving them.

"Raise the tricolor flag up high! The time for the decisive battle has come! As of today, the Empire will fly high on the ocean!"

"Wooaaaah!!"

The curtain rose on the first battle of the Great War, which would be called the 'Battle of Cala Emboixar' because it faced off the coast of the same name.

Of course, it was also reported on the British side that France was training the navy with enormous finances, resources, and manpower.

As Britain had a history of breaking the French navy dozens of times, the British laughed lightly, but internally, they were very wary of these changes in France.

The French had always failed to show their ability due to various restrictions, unexpected situations, and bad luck, but the British were well aware that the French navy was the only force that could threaten the British sea, even by a little.

What Whitehall's naval headquarters feared the most was for them to unleash their full potential and rush into power.

"Obviously, they must be confident in this fight to be this active. It would be better to take our time to look at the situation before entering the battle."

"We must uproot them before they get stronger. Isn't it part of our mission to clean up the French navy in the Mediterranean Sea anyway?"

The opinions of the officers of fleet stationed in Gibraltar were divided into two. Should they watch and collect information or go into battle right now? Plymouth Tasman, who was struggling between them, decided to choose the latter and fight.

"It's time to start harvesting!"

As the alarm of all ships rang, their layout was changed to a double line structure, and the formation was changed to a form in which fast-speed frigates wrapped around both sides.

"Well, well... Lastly, check the port and the explosives. Check the artillery cartridges, too!"

"Appointed officers, come up to the watchtower!"

"Raise the anchor from the second-class battleships on the left! Open the leading 35 gun ports!"

Tasman ordered them to take the formation of a semi-circle resembling a crescent moon. The skillful sailors and competent captains faithfully moved according to his command and drew the exact picture that the admiral wanted.

On the other hand, the French fleet still did not show much movement, drawing a horizontal line close to a straight line. The staff officer who saw it suggested the following.

"How about using the tactics of Admiral Nelson's great victory in the Battle of Trafalgar? If we command the two and three columns to charge in parallel like this, they will be able to break through each of their ships."

"You're talking about the central breakthrough tactic. It causes a large number of casualties. But you have to use it while looking at your opponent."

At that time, the opponent of Nelson's fleet was a French-Spanish combined fleet, so its organizational power was very weak. Thus, it had collapsed without controlling the breakthrough of the solid British battleships.

On the other hand, even at a glance, their current proficiency and organizational power seemed incomparable to those of then.

"I'm going by the book. Ships from 1st to 4th on the left side, advance! Same goes for the right wing!"

While Tasman's flagship, the HMS Hound, took its place in the center, the other battleships advanced and entered the range of artillery fire. In a tense moment, no matter who came first, the guns lit up at the same time.

Boom! Booom! Boom!

"Forward! Move forward!"

"Keep the heat, but be flexible and fire and engage autonomously!"

Along with the order, the HMS Hound also began to advance. The first-rate warship carrying 110 cannons was such a powerful battleship that it was one of the best in the United Kingdom.

Tasman had no intention of using its splendor only for decoration. Even though it was a flagship, it bravely charged in line with the other battleships and fired from its 45 starboard cannons.

Boom! Boom! Booom! Booom!

"All cannons on port side! Raise the shooting angle!"

"Turns slightly on the right! Keep the same angle!"

"Enemy chain shots! Everyone, get down!!"

Despite the noise, senior British naval officers led each battleship and launched autonomous offensives and counterattacks.

As the battle progressed, the British fleet had already turned into a streamlined and convex formation, and the French fleet returned to a semi-circle, so at first glance, it looked like the British Navy was trapping the French ships.

But the problem was the frigates placed at the end of the left and right sides. The British Navy's frigate was qualitatively different from other navy's frigates.

Although small in size with a single deck and weak defense, the British frigate was a ship with 40 cannons and a crew of 300 men. In other words, it meant that it was different from normal frigates in terms of firing power. In a raging battle between battleships, a typical frigate would only be able to throw pebbles into the waves.

However, the British frigate showed the power to break that common sense. The situation changed suddenly as they advanced at a high speed unique to frigates to engage the fight on the flanks of the French fleet.

French ships began to be helplessly hit by the British fleet's crossfire on both flanks.

'These are special frigates designed to deal with pirates' barbary. They're fast, can freely rotate, and have firepower at the level of a fourth-class battleship. Neglecting to cope with them is the cause of your defeat.'

The captains of the frigates cleverly targeted the masts and sails of the French warships. This was to reduce their mobility. A stationary ship was just a huge ta rget.

Now, it was time to gradually nibble at the French fleet from the outside. It was not without twists and turns, but it was around the time when the idea of a smooth victory spread on the HMS Hound.

Whaaaam!!

A huge explosion sounded with the sou nd of guns. A moment later, it was confirmed that the frigate caught up in it was not pierced by a shell but 'exploded and burned down'. Tasman had no choice but to scream.

"What... What the hell is this...!!"

Inside his field of view, there were images of the frigate that had almost been destroyed in a single blow and the miserable crew aboard it.

TL notes

Here's a picture of the HMS Victory, a first-rate ship of the line (I suppose the HMS Hound looked similar):