Command

This was his home—despite the powerful smell of turpentine, paint and raw wood shavings. He saw that he was standing in a diminutive but perfectly formed lobby; the door on his right was to the coach, his bedplace and private quarters. The door ahead was to the great cabin—the whole twenty-foot width of the vessel. Illuminated by the decorous stern windows he had seen from outside, it was a princely space, vaster by far than any he had lived in before.

He went to the mullioned windows and opened one: the miniature stern gallery was a charming pretence but just as pretty for that. All in basic white, it would soon see some gold leaf, even if he had to pay for it himself. His steps echoed oddly on the wooden deck—he looked down and saw a snug-fitting trap-door, almost certainly his private store-room.

The coach was little longer than an officer's cot: washbasin and drawers would fill the width, but it was palatial compared with what he had been used to. He left the cabin spaces for the quarterdeck and marvelled at the cunning of the Maltese shipwrights, who had contrived the comfort of the airy cabin while keeping all along the flush deck clear for working sail.

He went forward to a hatchway and descended into an expanse of bare deck. This was the only true deck the brig possessed, above him the open air, below him the hold. It was empty, stretching from the galley and store- rooms forward to what must be the wardroom and officers' cabins aft. Now it was gloomy and stank of linseed oil and paint: there was little ventilation— all cannon would be mounted on the upper deck and therefore there were no gun-ports to open. At sea, this would be home to eighty men or more and the contrast with his own appointments could not have been greater.

He stood for a moment, dealing with a surge of memory relating to his own time as a seaman. A stab of feeling for those faraway days of hard simplicity but warm friendships crowded into his mind. It would be the same here in Teazer's mess deck but he would never know of it. He had come so far . . . Would fortune demand a pay-back?

Voices drifted down through the hatch gratings: this might be the first members of Teazer's company. Kydd bounded up the fore hatchway to the upper deck. A short man in spectacles and a shabby blue coat abruptly ended his conversation with one of the caulkers. 'Do I see the captain of Teazer?' he said carefully.

'You do. I am Commander Kydd.'

The man removed his hat and bowed slightly. 'Ellicott, Samuel Ellicott. Your purser, sir.'

'Thank you, Mr Ellicott. We're only just in commission, as you see . . .' The man seemed nervous and Kydd added, 'I would wish ye well of y'r appointment aboard us, Mr Ellicott.'

'Mr Kydd—sir. I have to ask you a question. This is vital, sir, and could well rebound on both of us at a time now distant.'

'Very well, Mr Ellicott.'

'When I heard that you'd—taken it upon yourself to commission Teazer like you did, I knew I had to come post-haste. Sir, have you signed any papers?'

'I have not, Mr Ellicott.'

The man eased visibly. 'Fitting out a King's ship new commissioned is not the place for a tyro, if you understand me, sir.'

'Although this is my first command, Mr Ellicott, it is not m' first ship. However, it's kind of ye to offer y'r suggestions. I do believe we have a mort o' work to do—the people will be coming aboard tomorrow an' we should stand ready t' receive 'em. So we set up the paperwork first. Just f'r now, I shall use m' great cabin as our headquarters. Then we start setting out our requirements for the dockyard. No doubt they wants it on a form o' sorts.'

A thought struck him. 'Do ye know of any who'd be desirous of a berth as captain's clerk? Someone who knows Navy ways, c'n scratch away at a speed, discreet in his speech . . .'

'There may be . . . but he is now retired,' Ellicott said. 'A few guineas by way of earnest-money should gain his interest. Was captain's clerk in Meleaguer thirty-two at Toulon in 'ninety-three, as I remember. Shall I . . . ?'

'Desire him t' present himself this day or sooner and I shall look very favourably on his findin' a berth in Teazer. ' There were a number of Admiralty placements by warrant to which a captain was obliged to accede: the boatswain, gunner, carpenter and others. For the rest, Kydd was free to appoint whom he chose. 'Shall we find a stick or two f'r a table and begin?'

The prospective captain's clerk, Mr Peck, arrived with commendable promptness, a dry, shrewd-eyed man of years who had clearly seen much. Together, he and the purser fussed away and came up with a list of essentials—which began with opening the muster book, in which the details for victualling and wages of every seaman of Teazer 's company would be entered.

Then it was the establishment of ship's documents, letter-books, vouchers, lists of allowances—it seemed impossible that any man could comprehend their number, let alone their purpose, and Kydd was happy to leave them to it.

Shortly, another of his standing officers puffed aboard. 'Purchet, boatswain, sir,' he said. The man had a lazy eye, which made it appear that he was squinting.

'I'd hoped t' see you aboard before now, Mr Purchet,' Kydd said mildly. 'We've much t' do afore we put to sea.'

'Aye, sir,' Purchet said heavily, glancing up at the bare masts. 'An' I hope you ain't thinkin' o' them false- hearted set o' rascals in the dockyard.'

'They'll bear a hand, I'm sure, but we'll be setting the ship up ourselves. It's a small dockyard I'll grant, but I'll have fifty prime seamen for ye directly.'

Purchet's eyebrows shot up.

The carpenter arrived and was soon complaining of his lack of stores. Time was slipping by: Kydd needed to prime the dockyard to begin releasing Teazer's stores and equipment forthwith. If he failed, the men could not be accommodated on board or entered on the ship's books and he would quickly lose them to other ships. 'Mr Ellicott, be s' good as to accompany me to th' dockyard and advise.'