Of course, the happy homecoming didn't happen right away. Admiralty, justifiably leery of French intentions, was loath to reduce the Fleet quickly, even though the wish to save funds and reduce annual expenditures on the Navy's maintenance pressed some returns and de-commissionings.

Ships of the line were the first to depart, the oldest and weariest 56s, 58s, and 64s of British Third Rate, or those warships bought in after capture from their foes. No, it was the 74-gun two-deckers of the line which were the standard, and, should war break out again, the older, smaller ships might never be put back in commission. Yet even after the weakest and oldest were gone from the North Sea Fleet, it was not a fortnight later that the 74s were called home, too, leaving the frigates, brigs of war, and older sloops of war to carry the burden of showing the flag, with two-masted lighter "despatch" sloops and single-masted cutters to bear orders and mail back and forth.

It could be worse, Lewrie could conjure with growing impatience; we could be in the Indian Ocean, or the China Seas! Even a fast packet or frigate might require six months to bear word to Royal Navy units on far-off stations. Those ordered out to distant oceans before the peace articles were ratified, those still cruising halfway round the world, just naturally would assume that the war was still on, and would attack any enemy National ship they encountered, make prize of any enemy merchantman… and what the courts-martial might make of those engagements, and what the Prize Courts could demand as damages from unwitting captains was best not thought about!

At least Lewrie and HMS Thermopylae had learned of the peace in a matter of days; even ships on the North American Station at Halifax, the West Indies Station on Jamaica, or the Leeward Islands Station at English Harbour, Antigua, or the squadrons at Gibraltar might not know for another four or six weeks after October 12.