The Bomb Vessel

Touching his hat to the quarterdeck and announcing himself to the astonished marine sentry at the entry port Drinkwater collared a passing midshipman and looked round. The tail of a posse of officers was disappearing under the poop and Drinkwater guessed they followed Nelson into his cabin.

'His lordship, cully, upon the instant…' he growled at the boy.

Nelson was dismissing the entourage of officers, rubbing his forehead and pleading fatigue as Drinkwater pushed through them.

'What is your business, sir?' Drinkwater found himself confronted by a tall man in the uniform of a senior captain. The midshipman had melted away.

'By your leave sir, a word with his lordship…'

'What the devil is it, Foley?'

'An officer who requests a word with you.' Foley half turned and Nelson appeared in the doorway of the great cabin.

'My lord, I beg a moment of your time…'

Nelson was frowning. 'I know you!'

'I entreat your lordship to permit me to assist in the surveying and buoyage duties attending the fleet's approach to Copenhagen…' He felt Foley's hand upon his arm.

'Come sir, this is no time…'

'No, wait, Foley.' Nelson's one good eye glittered, though his face was grey with fatigue. 'Let us hear what the lieutenant has to say.'

'I was employed during the last peace in the buoy yachts of the Trinity House…'

'The Trinity House has provided us with pilots who do not share your enthusiasm, Mr, er…?'

'Drinkwater, my lord. You misunderstand me. These men are from the Trinity House at Hull, unfamiliar with the techniques of buoy-laying. The buoy yachts of the London House are constantly about the matter.'

There was a pause, then Nelson asked: 'Have I not seen you somewhere before, Mr Drinkwater?'

'Aye, my lord, at Syracuse in ninety-eight. I was first of the brig Hellebore…'

'The Hellebore?' Nelson frowned.

'You sent her to the Red Sea to warn Admiral Blankett of French intentions in Egypt.'

'Ah, I recollect. And all to no avail, eh, Mr Drinkwater?' Nelson smiled wearily.

'Not at all, my lord, we destroyed a French squadron and brought home a fine French thirty-eight.'

'Ah…' Nelson smiled again, the wide, mobile mouth that betrayed the wild passion of his nature showed too that he was still a man of no great age.

'Mr Drinkwater,' he said after a moment's consideration in the rather high-pitched Norfolk accent that he never attempted to disguise, 'your zeal commends you. What ship are you in?'

'I command the bomb-tender Virago, my lord. She has two mortars mounted and an artillery lieutenant as keen to use 'em as myself…' he held the admiral's penetrating gaze.

'The ruddy Irishman that was at this morning's conference aboard London, eh?'

'The same, my lord.'

'I shall take note of your remarks and employ you and your ship as seems most desirable. I will acquaint Captain Brisbane of the Cruizer of your familiarity with the matter now urgently in hand. In the meantime, I must ask you to excuse me, I am most fearfully worn out… Foley be a good fellow and see Mr Drinkwater off…'

'Thank you, my lord.' Drinkwater withdrew, never having thought to have an admiral ask to be excused, nor such a senior post-captain to escort him to his boat.

'I hope you are able to make good your claims, Mr Drinkwater,' remarked Foley.

'I have no doubt of it, sir.'

'The admiral's condescension is past the tolerable limits of most of us,' the captain added with a touch of irony, handing over the importunate Drinkwater to the officer of the watch.

But Drinkwater ignored the gentle rebuke. He felt the misconstruction placed upon his presence with Lady Parker at Yarmouth was now effaced. He had glimpsed that Nelson touch at Syracuse and now he knew it for what it really was. In contrast with the tradition of self-seeking that had divided and bedevilled fleet operations for generations, Nelson was destined to command men united in purpose, whose loyalty to each other overrode petty considerations of self. They might not triumph before the well-prepared defences of Copenhagen but if they failed they would do so without disgrace. In the last words of Edmund Burke, if die they must, they would die with sword in hand.

'Now gentlemen,' Drinkwater looked round the circle of faces: Rogers, the assembled warrant officers, the red-faced coat of Tumilty, the thin visage of Quilhampton. 'Well gentlemen, we are to split our forces. Mr Tumilty is to continue his preparations with his party under the direct command of Mr Rogers who will assume command of the ship in my absence. The three watches will be taken by Messrs Trussel, Matchett and Willerton who will also attend to those other duties as may from time to time be required of them. Messrs Easton and Quilhampton will provide themselves with the materials on this list and select a boat's crew which is to be adequately wrapped up against the cold. Mr Lettsom, you and Mr Jex will serve additionally to your established duties to second those other officers as they require it, or as Mr Rogers or myself deem it necessary. This is a time for great exertion, gentlemen, I do not expect to have to recall anyone of you to your duty but there will be little rest in the next few days until the matter presently resolved upon is brought to a conclusion. What that conclusion will be rests largely upon the extent of our endeavours. Is that understood?'

There was a chorus of assent. 'Very well, any questions?'

'Aye sir.' It was Matchett, the boatswain.

'Yes?'

'Are we to stand in the line of bombs, sir, as I've heard?' Drinkwater shot a glance at Tumilty whose innocent eyes were studying the deckhead.

'I cannot tell you at present, Mr Matchett.' A murmur of disappointment ran through the little assembly. 'All I can say is that I represented our case to Lord Nelson himself not an hour since…'

There was a perceptible brightening of faces. 'That is all, gentlemen.'

'Sir! Beg pardon, sir.'

'Yes, what is it?' Drinkwater turned from the boatswain to Mr Quilhampton.

'For this surveying, sir, the tablet and board…'

'Yes?'

'Well, sir, I can hold a pencil in—my right hand but…' Quilhampton held up the hook that terminated his left arm.

'Damn it, I had clean forgot, accept my apologies, Mr Q…' Drinkwater tore his mind off the instructions he was giving to Matchett and rubbed his forehead.

'Why don't 'e see Mr Willerton, sir. Carpenter'd knock him up a timber claw to hold anything, sir.'

'See to it, Mr Q, obliged to you Mr Matchett, now to the matter of these buoys. I want as many nets as you can knock up, about a fathom square, use any old rope junk but the mesh must be small enough to stop a twenty- four pound ball from escaping. Fit the boat up with coils of ten fathoms of three inch rope, enough for as many nets as you make. Then I want some of those deal planks left over from fitting the magazines, you know, the ones that Willerton has been hiding since Chatham, and small stuff sufficient to square lash 'em into a cross. No, damn it we'll nail 'em. Then I want a dozen light spars, boat-hook shafts, spare cannon ramrods, that sort of thing, all fitted with wefts of bunting. Get the duty watch cracking on that lot at once.'

'How many balls to each net, sir?'

'Four'll be too heavy to manhandle over the gunwhale, better make it three.'

'Then we can make the nets a little smaller, sir.'

Drinkwater nodded, 'See to it then.' He turned aft and caught sight of the purser. 'Oh, Mr Jex!'

'Sir?'

'Mr Jex, Mr Tumilty has asked me that it be specially impressed upon you that your party of firemen be adequately trained in the use of pump and hoses. When we go into action their efforts are required throughout the period the mortars are in use.'

'When we go into action sir?' Jex queried uncertainly. 'But I thought that the matter was not yet..'