Man Of War

No, it was not the way. They knew what he wanted – what the service required: a full broadside in a minute and a half. At her best, Nisus managed a minute and fifteen, and it made no difference that her guns weren’t as heavy, for a line-of-battle ship had extra men. No, he would repeat the exercises until they fired as they should. He had enough powder and shot to risk twenty broadsides at practice, and if they couldn’t manage it by the end of that . . .

‘Mr Lambe, have them fire by batteries. I’ll see who is the first to ninety seconds – and who is last!’

‘Ay-ay, sir!’

Lambe gave the order, and Peto’s admonishment. When all the batteries reported ready, he glanced at his captain for the word.

Peto took out his hunter again, and nodded.

‘Fire!’

Half an hour of smoke, flame, thunder and backbreaking work – both broadsides heaving as if they were in a general action: only the absence of the enemy’s shot eased their labour. Peto fancied he could hear the officers’ hoarse encouragement, and the mates’; until after ten minutes he could hear next to nothing unless it were bellowed in his ear. It was always the same: the whole of the crew would be shouting at each other for the rest of the day.

It was long past the dinner hour when the last battery – larboard upper deck – managed to reload and fire within the ninety seconds; and with only two rounds left for each gun. The lieutenants reported to the quarter-deck one by one as their batteries fell silent, and from each it was the same: the worm- and spongemen had gone about their work too gingerly to begin with, the loaders even more so, fearful of premature discharge; and the rest had been plain lubberly with the tackle. But they had warmed to it. They had all most definitely warmed to it.

Peto nodded: he had thought as much. They would get sharper with the tackle by daily practice, though the gun-workers would only get more confident if they used powder, and he could not afford to give them much of that. Once there was the enemy firing at their backs, too, they might be a deal less eager to sponge and ram and load. Perhaps he thought too meanly of them, but he had seen it all before. And there were but a couple of weeks only to get Rupert into the sort of trim that Admiral Codrington had a right to expect.

He turned to his lieutenant. ‘Well, Mr Lambe, let us see how things stand below.’

VII

REFORM

27 April 1828

They took the mail back to London, four days after coming down. Without the urgency of a family summons Hervey could not justify to himself the expense of posting. It had the advantage, too, of limiting conversation, for in truth he felt a mite wearied by the business in Horningsham, the last day especially, when Elizabeth’s defiance drove a wedge between them; and, he feared, between him and Georgiana.

He even felt its thin end edging between him and Fairbrother, for in the afternoon he and his friend had walked to Longleat, and Fairbrother had practised a deal of advocacy on Elizabeth’s behalf. Hervey had tried to explain that however good a man was this Major Heinrici, he could be nothing compared with Peto. Fairbrother suggested that they go and meet him; indeed, he proposed that it was in honour the very least that Hervey could do if he were acting as paterfamilias. But Hervey had scorned the notion, suggesting it might then become an affair of pistols. To this Fairbrother had expressed himself perplexed by the ways of the English, and had fallen silent on the matter, although at dinner that evening he went out of his way to cheer Elizabeth. Not that she appeared much in need of cheering (cool certainty, Fairbrother thought it; shamelessness was Hervey’s opinion).

Hervey was inclined to ascribe his friend’s solicitousness to the natural good manners of a guest, rather than believing he truly took her side. Nevertheless, he had not wished to spend a day in a post chaise in conversation upon the topic (which seemed inevitable if they had been placed in each other’s exclusive company), and so the mail had served him well in terms of both economy and retreat.