The Bomb Vessel (12 page)

Quilhampton swallowed, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing round his grubby stock.

‘Only in general principle, sir.'

‘Make it your business to discover the matter in detail. Now, how is a topmast stuns'l set?'

‘The boom is rigged out and the gear bent. Pull up the halliards and tack, keeping fast the end of the deck sheet. The stops are cut by a man on the lower yard. The tack is hauled out and the halliards hove. The short sheet is rove round the boom heel and secured in the top.'

Drinkwater smiled, recognising the words. ‘Very well, Mr Q. Consequent upon the death of Mr Mason I am rating you acting master's mate. You will take over Mason's duties. Please take your journals with you.'

He waved aside Quilhampton's thanks. ‘You will not thank me when the duty becomes arduous or I am dissatisfied with your conduct. Go and look up how to club-haul in that excellent primer of yours.'

Drinkwater picked up his pen and returned to the task he had deliberately interrupted by summoning Quilhampton.

Dear Sir
, he began to write,
It is with great regret that my painful duty compels me to inform you of the death of your son
 . . .

Explosion
and the rest of the squadron came into Yarmouth Roads during the next two days to join the growing number of British men of war anchored there. Most of the other bomb vessels had been blown to leeward and Martin merely nodded when Drinkwater presented his report. The fleet was reduced to waiting while the officers eagerly seized on the newspapers to learn anything about the intentions of the government in respect of the Baltic crisis.

A number of British officers serving with the Russian navy returned to Britain. One in particular arrived in Yarmouth: a Captain Nicholas Tomlinson, who had been reduced to half-pay after the American War and served with the Russians at the same period as the American John Paul Jones. He volunteered his services to the commander-in-chief. Admiral Parker, comfortably ensconced at the Wrestler's Inn with his young bride,
refused to see Tomlinson.

No orders emanated from either Parker or London. It was a matter that pre-occupied the officers of
Virago
as they dined in their captain's absence.

‘Lieutenant Drinkwater is endeavouring to discover some news of our intentions either from Martin or anyone else who knows,' explained Rogers as he took his place at the head of the cabin table and nodded to the messman.

‘I hear the King caught a severe chill at the National Fast and Humiliation,' said Mr Jex in his fussy way, ‘upon the thirteenth of last month.'

‘National Farce,' corrected Rogers, sarcastically.

‘
I
heard he caught a cold
in the head,'
put in the surgeon with heavy emphasis.

‘At all events we must wait until either Addington's kissed hands or Parker has got out of his bed,' offered Easton.

‘At Parker's age he'll be a deuced long time getting up with a young bride in his bed,' added Lettsom with a grin, sniping at the more accessible admiral in the absence of a king.

‘At Parker's age he'll be a deuced long time getting
it
up, you mean Mr Lettsom,' grunted Rogers coarsely.

‘Yes, I wonder who exhausts whom, for it is fearful unequal combat to pit eighteen years against sixty-four.'

‘Experience against enthusiasm, eh?'

‘More like impotence against ignorance, but wait, I have the muse upon me,' Lettsom paused. ‘I am uncertain on whom to lay the greater blame for our woes.

‘Why here is a thing to raise liberal hopes;
Government can't do as it pleases,
While the entire fleet 'waits the order to strike
Addington awaits the King's sneezes.'

A cheer greeted this doggerel but Lettsom shook his head with dissatisfaction.

‘It don't scan to my liking. I think the admiral the better inspiration:

‘ 'Tis not for his slowness in firing his shot
That our admiral is known every night,
But his laxness in heaving his anchor aweigh
Must dub him a most tardy knight.'

There were more cheers for the surgeon and it was generally accepted that the second verse was much better than the first.

‘But the lady's no fool, Mr Lettsom, and I'll not subscribe to her ignorance.' Rogers said as the laughter died away. ‘Parker flew his flag in the West Indies. He's the richest admiral on the list. His fortune is supposed to be worth a hundred thousand and all she has to put up with is a few years of the old pig grunting about the sheets before the lot'll fall into her lap. Why 'tis a capital match and I'll drink to Lady Parker. There's many a man as would marry for the same reason, eh Mr Jex?' Rogers leered towards the purser.

Jex shot a venomous look at the first lieutenant. His conduct during the fight with the luggers had not been exactly valorous and he had dreaded this exposure as the butt of the officers' jests.

‘Ah, Mr Jex has seen victory betwixt the sheets and is accustomed to seek it between the sails, eh?' There was another roar of laughter. At the end of the action off the Sunk Jex had been discovered hiding in the spare sails below decks.

‘You are being uncharitable towards Mr Jex, Mr Rogers. I have it on good authority he was looking for his honour,' Lettsom said as Jex stormed from the cabin the colour of a beetroot.

‘Come in. Yes Mr Q, what is it?' Drinkwater's voice was weary.

‘Beg pardon, sir, but the vice-admiral's entering the anchorage.' Drinkwater looked up. There was a light in the young man's eyes. ‘Lord Nelson, sir,' he added excitedly. Drinkwater could not resist Quilhampton's infectious enthusiasm.

‘Thank you, Mr Q,' he said smiling. The hero of the Nile had a strange way of affecting the demeanour of his juniors. Drinkwater remembered their brief meeting at Syracuse and that same infectious enthusiasm that had seemed to imbue Nelson's entire fleet, despite their vain manoeuvrings in chase of Bonaparte. What a shame the same spirit was absent from the present assembly of ships. Drinkwater sighed. The subsequent scandal with Hamilton's wife and the vainglorious progress through Europe that followed the victory at Aboukir Bay, had curled the lip of many of Nelson's equals, but Drinkwater had no more appetite for his paper-work and he found himself pulling a muffler round his neck under his boat cloak to join the men at
Virago's
rail cheering the little admiral as the
St George
stood through the gatway into Yarmouth Roads.

The battleship with her three yellow strakes flew a blue flag at her foremasthead and came in with two other warships. Hardly had her sheet anchor dropped from her bow than her cannon boomed out in salute to Parker's flag, flying nominally at the mainmasthead of the 64-gun
Ardent
until the arrival of Parker's proper flagship. The flag's owner was still accommodated at the Wrestler's Inn and this fact must have been early acquainted to Nelson for his barge was shortly afterwards seen making for the landing jetty. It was later rumoured that, although he received a cordial enough welcome from the commander-in-chief, Parker refused to discuss arrangements for the fleet on their first meeting.

Although a man who appeared to have lost both head and heart to Emma Hamilton, Nelson had never let love interfere with duty. It was soon common knowledge in the fleet that his criticisms of Parker were frank, scatological and scathing. Nelson's dissatisfaction spread like wildfire, and ribald jests were everywhere heard, particularly among the hands on the ships that waited in the chill winds and shivered in their draughty gun decks while Sir Hyde banked the bedroom fire in the Wrestler's Inn. In addition to Lettsom's doggerel there were other ribaldries, mostly puns upon the name of the hostelry where Parker lodged and all of them enjoyed with relish in gunrooms as on gun decks, in cockpits and in staterooms. Nelson had given a dinner the evening of his arrival and expressed his fears on the consequences of a delay. His impatience did not improve as day succeeded day.

The final preparations for the departure of the expedition were completed. Nearly eight hundred men of the 49th Foot with a company of rifles had been embarked under Colonel Stewart. Eleven masters of Baltic trading ships and all members of the Trinity House of Kingston-upon-Hull had joined for the purpose of piloting the fleet through the dangers of the Baltic Sea. On Monday 9th March Parker's flagship the
London
arrived and his flag was ceremoniously shifted aboard her at eight o'clock the next morning. The admiral remained ashore.

Later that day an Admiralty messenger arrived in Yarmouth with an order for Parker to sail, but still he prevaricated. His wife had arranged a ball for the coming Friday and, to indulge his Fanny, Parker postponed the fleet's departure until after the event.

That evening Lieutenant Drinkwater also received a message,
scribbled on a piece of grubby paper:

Nathaniel

I beg you come ashore at eight of the clock tonight.
I must see you on a matter of the utmost urgency.
I beg you not to ignore this plea and I will
await you on the west side of the Yare ferry
.

Ned

The word
must
was underlined heavily. Drinkwater looked up at the longshoreman who had brought the note and had refused to relinquish it to Mr Quilhampton who now stood protectively suspicious behind the ragged boatman.

‘The man was insistent I give it to you personal, sir,' he said in the lilting Norfolk accent.

‘What manner of man was it gave you this note?'

‘Why, I'd say he were a serving man, sir. Not a gentleman like you sir, though he was gen'rous with his master's money . . .' The implication was plain enough without looking at the man's face. Drinkwater drew a coin from his pocket.

‘Here,' he passed it to the boatman, frowning down at the note. He dismissed the man. ‘Mr Q.'

‘Sir?'

‘A boat, please, in an hour's time.'

‘Aye, aye, sir.'

‘And Mr Q, not a word of this to anyone if you please.' He fixed Quilhampton with a baleful glance. If Edward was reduced to penury in a matter of weeks he did not want the world to know of it.

A bitter easterly wind blew across the low land south of the town. The village of Gorleston exhibited a few lights on the opposite bank as he descended into the ferry. Darkness had come early and the fresh wind had led him to order his boat off until the following morning. To the half guinea the note had cost him it now looked as though he would have to add the charge of a night's lodging ashore. Brotherly love was becoming an expensive luxury which he could ill afford. And now, he mused as the ferryman held out a fist, there was an added penny for the damned ferry.

Clambering up the far bank he allowed the other passengers to
pass ahead of him. He could see no one waiting, then a shadow detached itself from a large bush growing on the river bank.

‘God damn it, Ned. Is that you?'

‘Ssh, for the love of Christ . . .'

‘What the devil are you playing at?'

‘I must talk to you . . .' Edward loomed out of the shadows, standing up suddenly in front of Drinkwater. Beneath a dark cloak Drinkwater could see the pale gleam of a shirt. Edward's hair was undressed and loosely blowing round his face. Even in the gloom Drinkwater could see he was in a dishevelled state. He was the longshoreman's ‘serving man'.

‘What in God's name . . . ?'

‘Walk slowly, Nat, and for heaven's sake spare me further comment. I'm deep in trouble. Terrible trouble . . .' Edward shivered, though whether from cold or terror his brother could not be sure.

‘Well come on, man, what's amiss? I have not got all night . . .' But of course he had. ‘Is it about the money, Edward?'

He heard the faint chink of gold in a purse. ‘No, I have the remains of that here. It is not a great deal . . . Nat, I am ruined . . .'

Drinkwater was appalled: ‘D'you mean you have lost that two hundred and fifty . . . ? My God, you'll have no more!'

‘God, Nat, it isn't money that I want.'

‘Well what the devil is it?'

‘Can you take me on your ship? Hide me? Land me wherever you are going. I speak French. Like a German they say. For God's sake, Nat you are my only hope, I beg you.'

Drinkwater stopped and turned to his brother. ‘What the hell is this all about, Ned?'

‘I am a fugitive from the law. From the extremity of the law, Nat. If I am taken I . . .' he broke off. ‘Nat, when I heard your ships were assembling at Yarmouth and arrived to find
Virago
anchored off the shore I . . . I hoped . . .'

‘What are you guilty of?' asked Drinkwater, a cold certainty settling round his heart.

‘Murder.'

There was a long silence between the brothers. At last Drinkwater said, ‘Tell me what happened.'

‘I told you of the girl? Pascale?'

‘Aye, you did.'

‘I found her abed with her God damned marquis.'

‘And whom did you murder?'

‘Both of them.'

‘God's bones!' Drinkwater took a few paces away from his brother, his brain a turmoil. Like at that moment in the Strand, his instinct for order reeled at the prospect of consigning his brother to the gallows. He remembered his mother, then his wife and child in a bewildering succession of images that drove from his mind the necessity of making a decision and only further confused him. Edward was guilty of Edward's crimes and should suffer the penalty of the law; yet Edward was his brother. But protecting Edward would make him an accessory, while Edward's execution would ensure his own professional oblivion.

He swore beneath his breath. In his passion Edward had murdered a worthless French aristocrat and his whore. How many Frenchmen had Nathaniel murdered as part of his duty? Lettsom's words about duty came back to him and he swore again.