1805 (27 page)

‘
Diable
!' Villeneuve had paled again. ‘How is this known? Do you know everything that comes to me?'

He rose, very angry and Drinkwater hurriedly added, ‘Pardon, Excellency. It was only a guess . . . I, I made a guess . . .'

‘A guess!' For a second Villeneuve's face wore a look of astonishment. Then his eyes narrowed a little. ‘Santhonax was right, Captain Drinkwater, you are no fool. If I have to fight I will, but I have twice eluded Nelson and . . .' He shrugged, ‘perhaps I might do it again.'

Drinkwater relaxed. He had been correct all along in his assumptions. The two men's eyes met. They seemed bound in an intensity of feeling, like the eyes of fencers of equal skill where pure antagonism had given way to respect, and only a superficial enmity prevented friendship. Then one of the fencers moved his blade, a tiny feinting movement designed to suggest a weakness, a concern.

‘I think you might,' said Drinkwater in a voice so low that it was not much above a whisper. It was a terrible gamble, Drinkwater knew, yet he conceived it his duty to chance Nelson not missing the Combined Fleet.

For what seemed an age a silence hung in the cabin, then Villeneuve coughed and signalled their intimacy was at an end. ‘After this conversation, Captain, I regret that you cannot leave the ship. You have given your parole and I will endeavour to make your stay comfortable.'

Drinkwater opened his mouth to protest. A sudden chilling vision of being on the receiving end of British broadsides overwhelmed him and he felt real terror cause his heart to thump and his face to blanch.

It was Villeneuve's turn to smile: ‘You did not believe in destiny,
Captain; remember?' Then he added, ‘Santhonax wished that I left you to rot in a Spanish gaol.'

Drinkwater woke confused. After leaving Villeneuve he had been conducted to a small cabin intended for a warrant officer below the water-line on the orlop deck of the
Bucentaure
. A sentry was posted outside and for a long time he lay wide awake thinking over the conversation with Villeneuve, his surroundings both familiar and horribly alien. Eventually he had slept and he woke late, disgruntled, hungry and unable for some seconds to remember where he was. His lack of clothing made him feel irritable and the mephitic air of the unventilated orlop gave him a headache made worse by the strange smells of the French battleship. When he opened his door and asked for food he found the moustached sentry singularly unhelpful.

‘I don't want your damned bayonet for my breakfast,' muttered Drinkwater pushing the dully gleaming weapon aside. He pointed to his mouth. ‘
Manger
,' he said hopefully. The sentry shook his head and Drinkwater retreated into the miserable cabin.

A few minutes later, however, the debonair Guillet appeared, immaculately attired as befitted the junior officer of a flagship, and conducted Drinkwater courteously to the gunroom where a number of the officers were breakfasting. They looked at him curiously and Drinkwater felt ill at ease in clothes in which he had slept. However he took coffee and some biscuit, observing that for a fleet in port the officers' table was sparsely provided. His presence clearly had something of a dampening effect, for within minutes only he and Guillet remained at the table.

‘I should be obliged if I could send ashore for my effects, Lieutenant . . . I would like to shave . . .' He mimed the action, at which Guillet held up his hand.

‘No, Captain, please it is already that I 'ave sent for your . . .' he motioned over his own clothes, stuck for the right word.

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.'

They were not long in coming and they arrived together with Mr Gillespy.

‘Good Lord, Mr Gillespy, what the devil do you do here, eh?' The boy remained silent and in the bad light it took Drinkwater a moment to see that he was controlling himself with difficulty. ‘Come, sir, I asked you a question . . .'

‘P . . . please, sir . . .' He pulled a note from his pocket and held it out. Drinkwater took it and read.

Sir
,

The boy is much troubled by your absence. Permission has been obtained from our captors that he mayjoinyou wherever you have been taken and I have presumed to send him to you, believing this to be the best thing for him. We are well and in good spirits
.

It was signed by James Quilhampton. He could hardly have imagined Drinkwater was on board the enemy flagship. ‘Lieutenant Guillet . . . please have the kindness to return this midshipman to my lieutenant . . .'

‘Oh, no, sir . . . please, please . . .' Drinkwater looked at the boy. His lower lip was trembling, his eyes filled with tears. ‘
Please
, sir . . .'

‘Brace up, Mr Gillespy, pray remember who and where you are.' He paused, allowing the boy to pull himself together, and turned towards Guillet. ‘What are your orders regarding this young officer?'

Guillet shrugged. His new duty was becoming irksome and he was regretting his boasted ability to speak English. ‘The admiral 'e is a busy man,
Capitaine
. 'E says if the, er, midshipman is necessary to you, then he 'as no objection.'

Drinkwater turned to the boy again. ‘Very well, Mr Gillespy, you had better find yourself a corner of the orlop.'

‘And now,
Capitaine
, perhaps you will come with me onto the deck, yes?'

Drinkwater was ushered on deck, Guillet brushing aside the boy in his ardour to show the English prisoner the puissant might of the Combined Fleet. Drinkwater emerged on deck, his curiosity aroused, his professional interest fully engaged. He was conducted to the starboard waist and allowed to walk up and down on the gangway in company with Guillet. The lieutenant was unusually expansive and Drinkwater considered he was acting on orders from a higher authority. It was difficult to analyse why Villeneuve should want an enemy officer shown his command. He must know Drinkwater was experienced enough to see its weaknesses as well as its strengths; no seaman could fail to do that.

The deck of the
Bucentaure
was crowded with milling seamen and soldiers as the last of the stores were brought aboard. The last water casks were being filled and there were obvious preparations for sailing being made on deck and in the rigging. Boats were out under the bows of the nearest ships, singling up the cables fastened to the buoys laid in the
Grande Rade
.

‘Over there,' said Guillet pointing to a 74-gun two-decker, ‘
le
Berwick
a prize from the Royal Navy, and there, the
Swiftsure
, also once a ship of your navy,' Guillet smiled, ‘and, of course, we also 'ave one other ship of yours to our credit, but we could not bring it with us,' he laughed, ‘His Majesty's sloop
Diamond Rock
!'

Guillet seemed to think this a great joke and Drinkwater remembered hearing of Commodore Hood's bold fortifying of the Diamond Rock off Martinique which had been held for some time before the overwhelming force of Villeneuve's fleet was brought to bear on it.

‘I heard the garrison fought successive attacks off for nineteen hours without water in a tropical climate, Lieutenant, and that they capitulated upon honourable terms. Is that not so?' Guillet appeared somewhat abashed and Drinkwater changed the subject, ‘Who is that extraordinary officer who has just come aboard?'

‘Ah, that is
Capitaine
Infernet of the
Intrépide
.' Drinkwater watched a tall, flamboyant officer with a boisterous air climb on deck. ‘ 'E went to sea a powder monkey,' Guillet went on, ‘and 'as escaped death a 'hundred times, even when 'is ship it blows apart. 'E speaks badly but 'e fights well . . .'

‘And who is that meeting him?'

‘That is my
capitaine
, Jean Jacques Magendie, commandant of the
Bucentaure
.'

‘Ah, and that man?' Drinkwater indicated a small, energetic officer with the epaulettes of a
Capitaine de Vaisseau
.

‘Ah, that', said Guillet in obvious admiration, ‘is
Capitaine
Lucas of the
Redoutable
.'

‘You obviously admire him, Lieutenant. Why is that?'

Guillet shrugged. ‘He is a man most clever, and 'is crew and ship most, er, 'ow do you say it . . . er, very good?'

‘Efficient?'

‘
Oui
. That is right: efficient.'

Drinkwater turned away, Infernet was looking at him and he did not wish to draw attention to himself. He stared out over the crowded waters of Cadiz, the great battleships surrounded by small boats. He saw the massive hull of the four-decked Spanish ship
Santissima Trinidad
. ‘that is the
Santissima Trinidad
, is it not?' Guillet nodded. ‘She is Admiral Gravina's flagship?'

‘No,' said Guillet, ‘the Captain-General 'as 'is flag aboard the
Principe de Asturias
of one 'undred and twelve guns. The
Santissima Trinidad
flies the flag of Rear-Admiral Don Baltazar Cisneros. The ship moored next to 'er, she is the
Rayo
of one 'undred guns. She may interest you,
Capitaine
; she is commanded by Don Enrique Macdonnell.
'E is an Irishman who became a Spanish soldier to kill Englishmen. 'E fought in the
Regimento de Hibernia
against you when your American colonies bring their revolution. Later 'e is a sailor and when Gravina called for volunteers, Don Enrique comes to command the
Rayo
.'

‘Most interesting. The
Rayo
is newly commissioned then?'

‘Yes. And the ship next astern is the
Neptuno
. She is Spanish. We also 'ave the
Neptune
. She is', he looked round, ‘there, alongside the
Pluton
 . . .'

‘We also have our
Neptune
, Lieutenant. She is commanded by Thomas Fremantle. He is rather partial to killing Frenchmen.' Drinkwater smiled. ‘We also have our
Swiftsure
 . . . but all this is most interesting . . .'

They spent the morning in this manner, talking always about ships and seamen, Drinkwater making mental notes and storing impressions of the final preparations of the Combined Fleet. He had a vague notion that they might be of value, yet was aware that he would find it impossible to pass them to his friends whose topsails, he knew, were visible from only a few feet up
Bucentaure
's rigging. But what was more curious was the strong conviction he had formed that it was Villeneuve himself who wished him to see all this.

A midday meal was served to Drinkwater in his dark and malodourous cabin. Eating alone he was reminded of his time as a midshipman in the equally stinking orlop of the British frigate
Cyclops
. The thought made him call for Gillespy. The only response was from the sentry, who put a finger to his lips and indicated the boy asleep in a corner of the orlop, curled where one of
Bucentaure
's massive futtocks met the deck.

Guillet did not reappear in the afternoon and, after lying down for an hour, Drinkwater rose. The ship had become strangely quiet, the disorder of the forenoon was gone. The sentry let him pass and he went on deck, passing a body of men milling in the lower and upper gun-decks. As he emerged into a watery sunshine he was aware of the admiral's flag at the masthead lifting to seawards; an easterly wind had come at last!

On the quarterdeck a reception party which included Captain Magendie, his officers and a military guard was welcoming a short, olive-skinned grandee with a long nose. He courteously swept his hat from his head in acknowlegement of the compliments done him, revealing neatly clubbed hair.

Lieutenant Guillet hurried across the deck and took Drinkwater's
arm. ‘Please,
Capitaine
, is it not for you to be 'ere now.'

‘Who was that man, Lieutenant?' asked Drinkwater suffering himself to be hastened below.

‘Don Frederico Gravina. Now,
Capitaine
, please you must go to your cabin and to stay.'

‘Why?'

‘Why,
Mon Dieu, Capitaine
, the order to sail, it is being made.'

But the Combined Fleet did not sail. At four o'clock in the afternoon of 17th October the easterly wind fell away to a dead calm, and Drinkwater sat in his tiny cabin listening to the details of Mr Gillespy's family.

Drinkwater woke with the calling of
Bucentaure
's ship's company. He was denied the privilege of breakfasting with the officers and it was clear that he was not permitted to leave the hutch of a cabin he had been allocated. Nevertheless he was not required to be locked in, and by sitting in the cabin with a page of his journal before him he amused himself by getting Gillespy to attempt to deduce what was going on above them from the noises they could hear.