‘A fire ship!’ John gasped as he saw them launch the blazing raft towards the French barges from the English ships on the other side of the bay. One man stood at the back of the raft, courageously steering it straight towards the supply barges, the wind setting the flames in the bow leaping and crackling, reflected in the water until it looked as if the fires from hell were burning up from under the sea. The sailor stayed at his post until the last moment, until the heat beat him into the water, and the flames licked towards the kegs of powder. He dived off the back of the raft just as the charges on the fire ship exploded like celebration fire crackers. His head went deep under the water and for a moment John thought that the man was lost, then he came up, wet-headed like a seal, and swam to the nearest ship, clung to a rope and was hauled in.

The wind swung around; the unmanned fire ship, yawing wildly, blew before it, drifted away from the French barges and helpfully lit their way across the heaving glassy seas to the shore and the fort.

‘Damnation!’ Tradescant swore. ‘It’s going to miss them.’

Perilously the fire ship swung in a current and headed for the English line. The sailors scrambled to the side of the ship with buckets of water to try to douse the flames and poles to fend it off. By its brilliant flaring light the English gunners on the other ships could at last see their targets. The English guns pounded into life and John saw the French barges struck and men thrown into the water.

‘Reload!’ the gunners’ officer yelled from below. The deck of the ship heaved and thudded under John’s feet as the big guns fired and rolled back. Another direct hit, and another French vessel smashed amidships, men screaming as they were thrown into the rolling dark sea.

Squinting through the smoke, John could see that some of the barges were getting out of range, heading towards the citadel.

‘Aim long!’ he shouted. ‘Aim for the furthest barges!’

No-one could hear him above the noise. Impotently, John saw the leading French barge run ashore below the castle on the tideline, the citadel’s sally port gates flung open in welcome, and a line of defenders rapidly form to unload the barges and throw sacks of food and supplies of weapons into the fort. John counted perhaps a dozen barges safely unloaded before the light from the fire ship died and the English gunners could no longer see their target, and the battle was lost.

The citadel was reinforced and revictualled and there would be no visit from Commander Torres to dine with the duke and accept his terms of surrender tomorrow.