“Permission to sail, sir. Flying on SNO’s flagpole.”
“Thank’ee, Yeoman.”
Captain Erskine was playing games, intentionally sending the signal well before the expected time so that Racoon could seem inefficient.
“Acknowledge, Yeoman. Mr Mason, single up, if you please. Hands to leaving harbour stations. Make all salutes to senior officers, Mr Mason. Are there any hands adrift?”
“One, sir. McLenehan, again, sir.”
“Inform the harbour authorities that he is to be taken up as a deserter. Is he a habitual offender?”
“Hopeless, sir. A drunk. He had been on stoppage of leave for six months before this. Last night was his first run ashore.”
“Best we should get rid of him.”
“He is very good with his knots, sir. Elegant ropework such as we boast is not easily achieved. Various admirals have been struck by McLenehan’s knots, sir.”
“No. Indeed, one might say that McLenehan can get knotted! I shall not tolerate such misconduct. Request SNO to arrange for his arrest pending court-martial for missing his ship. The man has abused his privileged position and I shall not put up with his nonsense – or that of any other drunkard who wishes to make a nuisance of himself. No rum ration in prison – he may have six months dry and see what that does for his thirst.”
The Yeoman and his two signalmen were in easy hearing range. They would pass the word that the new captain would not tolerate any lapse in ordinary discipline.
Racoon came to a single line and the postman made his jump and the lieutenant watching the screws waved that all was clear and the ship moved slowly out into the stream and curved away downriver.
“Nicely done, Mr Mason. A good, clean wake showing an exact curve – an example to lesser mortals.”
Magnus came to the salute as he passed the remainder of his squadron, all acknowledging their senior as he passed.
“Secure from harbour stations, Mr Mason. Whose watch is it?”
“Mr Harborough and Midshipman Grant-Hartley, sir.”
“What’s your opinion of Grant-Hartley?”
“Good enough, sir. Not quite as wonderful as he believes himself to be, perhaps, but well capable of making sub-lieutenant. Ideally, he should be sent over to a bigger cruiser or battleship, sir. Racoon is small as cruisers go and he needs the discipline of a big ship. Do him good to be one of thirty officers – a little fish in a bigger pool.”
“So be it. I shall pass your recommendation to Admiral Seymour. The boy needs a little more of urgency, to my mind. He would make a very fine flag lieutenant now, but I should prefer him to be somewhat more useful to the Navy. And yes, Mr Mason, I do know exactly what I am talking about.”
“All hands to their stations, Mr Mason. All gun crews to close up.”
Magnus stood in the conning tower, watch in hand and an eyebrow raised.
“Which broadside, sir?”
“All guns, Mr Mason.”
“Ah… we have a complement of one hundred and seventy-six men, sir, less one left ashore. We do not have quite sufficient gunners to man the whole of our armament, sir.”
“Man the six inch, Mr Mason. All of them. And the four starboard three pounders. Both Maxims as well. Mr Plumb to me, please.”
Magnus stood gravely, watch held out as if for Mr Plumb’s inspection.
“Twelve minutes, Mr Plumb. A ship steaming at twenty knots will have traversed five miles of sea while awaiting our response. A cruiser could quite possibly fire four dozen rounds from each of its guns in that time.”
“In time of war, sir, we would have two guns permanently closed up, sir, ready for action.”
“A good response, Mr Plumb. Let us trust that we will know that we are at war. Train every spare hand as a gunner, Mr Plumb. When next I call for action I shall expect to see every man except for the stokers on watch working a gun, apart, that is, from the torpedo party.”
They stared forward at the fixed tubes and the torpedo carriages, all inboard and with no crew to hand.
“We shall not be depending on the mouldies, sir.”
“Very true, but they can be useful, even if only for despatching a severely damaged ship.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Prepare a gunnery target, Mr Plumb. We shall fire live when we return from Hong Kong. For the while, give the men an hour of exercises. Ensure that the Maxims have full belts in plenty. They may well be very useful if we have to stop and search small ships or lorchas or junks.”
“Aye aye, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but what sort of gunnery target?”
“The normal, Mr Plumb. A float with two poles on it, sailcloth stretched between them, a red cross prominent to assist with aiming. Sixty feet square is standard, I believe. We shall practice at one thousand, two thousand and three thousand yards – the shortest of ranges. The three pounders can be effective at that distance, I believe. One of the boats to tow the target out and to have replacement poles and canvas aboard against need.”
“Rather slow, sir. The boat would wish to retire a half mile or so from the targets…”
“Four or five cables, you say, Mr Plumb? Are your gunners that inaccurate?”
“Gunnery ain’t about being accurate, sir. The gunners’ job is to place broadsides at a cable, sir – no need to worry about longer ranges. Get up alongside and hammer them, sir, like Nelson did!”
“Nonsense, Mr Plumb! Nelson sailed at four knots into battle at Trafalgar. Racoon will enter the fray at seventeen knots. If we are fighting the Germans, then they may well be making more than twenty. The wind gage means nothing now, except for blowing the smoke out of our eyes. Against a German cruiser I would expect to open fire at eight thousand yards. If you cannot achieve hits for me at that range then Racoon will be lost, do you understand, Mr Plumb? Lost!”
Mr Plumb looked shocked – it would not be his fault if the guns could not hit at so foolish a distance.
“Anyway, sir, it’s the Frogs what are the enemy. Always have been. No business fighting anybody else, sir. And they ain’t no use at sea. Stands to reason, don’t it.”
“There is a strong chance that the French will be our allies in whatever war comes next, Mr Plumb. If they are our enemies then we may be in trouble, because most French cruisers have bigger guns than ours. The guns will practice, Mr Plumb. If they remain inaccurate then I shall seek an effective replacement as gunnery officer aboard Racoon.”
Mr Plumb left Magnus’ presence in a state of shock. His guns were well polished; the gunners showed smart; they could fire their guns within reason quickly, using blanks – what more could a captain ask for? He called the six inch gun layers together, informed them that they must do better.
“You will be firing at three thousand yards next week. I expect all of you to hit with every round after the first two. You’ve each got a range finder on your gun. Use it.”
None of the layers had been trained in use of the range finder, which was not entirely accurate in any case. They generally set range by eye and relied on shell splashes to guide them onto the target. They had only ever fired against stationary targets.
Admiral Seymour was in sympathetic mood when Magnus reported to him.
“Telegram in from the Admiralty, to be forwarded to you, Captain Campbell. Obviously, I know what it says, it coming to me first.”
Magnus took the paper flimsies in his hand, noting that there was at least four pages to the message. He read it through with a sense of relief, noting that it was headed to Captain Lord Eskdale.
“Well, sir. That would seem to be that. Not as clear cut as I might have liked, but legally it seems to have put the business to bed, one might say. Nasty for the poor men who had to deal with it, though.”
“I’ll say it was, Lord Eskdale! I saw a case like it twenty years back, a jack who fell overboard and went through the screws and slept badly for nights afterward!”
Magnus quoted from the flimsies.
“’A naked and much mutilated body
taken from the Thames. Injuries consistent with those inflicted by the screws of a large vessel. Face wholly unrecognisable. Condition and apparent age of the corpse consistent with Lord Eskdale. Well fed; not in the habit of manual labour; scars from small shot to left upper arm.’”
“Had he been shot, your brother, sir?”
“Five years ago. Peppered while out with a gun, on a driven pheasant shoot. Damned fool who was next in line followed a bird much too far to his right. Number six shot at forty yards, just clipped him, four or five into the flesh – annoying more than anything else.”
“As you say, Lord Eskdale – a damned fool to do it, but fortunate from your point of view. Makes the identification very probable. I wonder why he was naked?”
“Possibly a farewell fling before he jumped, sir!”
Seymour laughed and then stopped himself, guiltily. His new flag captain snorted at his side.
“Forgot! You probably have never met Captain Jellicoe, Eskdale.”
“I have not had that privilege, sir. Obviously, the name is not unfamiliar.”
Captain Jellicoe, though still young, had enjoyed a glittering naval career and was prophesied to rise to the highest ranks of the navy. He was renowned as a leading member of the Fishpond, one of Jacky Fisher’s favourites.
“You could request a posting back to Home Waters, Eskdale. I would have no hesitation in supporting that request – there may well be family matters requiring your attention.”
“Thank you, sir, but my father is well capable of looking after the family interests. I do not wish to sacrifice my career, sir. I believe that we may well be busy in China within a few months, two years at most. I am to make up for the years in which I have contributed too little to the Navy, sir, and the China Station may well be the right place for that. There are in any case other personal reasons which absolutely demand my continued presence here, sir. I believe that I must request permission of my superior to marry, sir?”
“You must indeed, Lord Eskdale! Miss Blantyre, I presume?”
“She has condescended to give her hand to me, sir.”
“Elegantly expressed, my lord. You have my full and unreserved permission. A beautiful lady and a wise marriage from the worldly point of view.”
“Thank you, sir. She is truly beautiful, is she not? She is also a very fine lady, sir. I am a lucky man in every sense. I must confess, sir, I had expected her father to give me the right about, but he has welcomed me into his family. Perhaps my brother did me a good turn there, sir!”
“He may well have, my lord. I demand an invitation to dance at your wedding, of course.”
“Granted willingly, my lord – your name must be prominent on the list. When, I do not know, but this year I must imagine. One advantage of my brother’s disgraceful taking off is that I do not need to enter any prolonged period of mourning for him!”
Admiral Seymour could not but deprecate such levity.
“To business, Lord Eskdale. I wish you to take Racoon north along the coast, calling into Hanshan for two days and proceeding as far as Tsingtao, there to make a courtesy call, saluting the German flag and taking a quiet glance about for any batteries in process of construction. A view of the hills on either side of the harbour might be instructive as well. There will be forts going up, I do not doubt.”
“They have only just taken the Treaty Port, have they not, sir?”
“Legally, yes, but it seems that they have been preparing the ground there for some little time. I suspect that German gold has been evident there for a couple of years and it is quite possible that the fortifications were put in hand some time ago, apparently created by a general of the Imperial government. I believe this Baron Hildesheim has been in and out of the port over the last two years – and that I only heard recently, he has kept his head well down.”
“A busy man, that Hildesheim, sir. Tsingtao is placed to give some control of the sea routes leading towards Peking, is it not, sir?”
Jellicoe took over.
“Tsingtao lies at the head of Kiaochan Bay, some two miles from Cape Evelyn. The bay is about twenty miles deep and offers a sheltered deep-water anchorage. Effectively, the port is the prime access to Shantung Province and the Germans have an official zone of influence of some fifty kilometres inland – that is a little more than thirty miles. The port of Tsingtao would be ideal for the assembly of a force intending to have another round with the Taku Forts and open the route into Peking. A cruiser squadron there could significantly interfere with trade between China and Japan, or the Pacific, and would be close enough to Hong Kong and Canton to be an irritation to us. Obviously, Tsingtao stands between the French in Indo-China and the Russians in Vladivostok, in much the same way that we do in Hong Kong.”
“Then it is well placed, sir, to exercise control over much of China and to irritate the other European powers.”
“It is, Lord Eskdale.”
“Blockade would not be possible, sir, so it is a matter of taking the port from the land in case of war. A Chinese army, or more likely Japanese, could do so – but we could not, having far too few troops on station. It is a very well-located base, sir. It should pay for itself as well, with trade. A major grain area, Shantung, Mr Blantyre told me, as well as the obvious tea and silks. Some minerals as well. Not as powerful as Hong Kong, clearly, but with the potential to be a nuisance when the war with Germany comes.”
“I agree, Lord Eskdale. What would you do about Tsingtao?”
“Keep a force in being in Hong Kong, sir – strong enough to deal with whatever squadron the Germans have in Tsingtao – and rely on the intelligence people to keep us informed on what is going on there. A cruiser squadron that is sallying out into the Pacific will need to coal to a maximum and load stores for months at sea. They will probably want to bring colliers out in company as well. It should be possible always to have a few days warning of their intention to sail. Time to send a runner to the nearest telegraph station and get a wire to Hong Kong.”
Admiral Seymour was unconvinced.
“What’s wrong with a simple blockade, Eskdale? Why not do as we always have? A pair of battleships offshore, with their squadron, quite sufficient to deal with any attempt to leave port.”
“Six torpedo boats or destroyers, sir, in poor visibility ideally, and your battleships are gone, together with the bulk of their squadron. If these submarines we keep hearing about come to anything, then it would need no more than a pair of them. Close blockade no longer is possible, sir. The torpedo and twenty-six knot boats have finished the battleship, sir.”
“Nonsense, man! Anything new will always be countered within a year or two – the torpedo will be old hat within five years, there will be an answer to it of a certainty. As for submarines – I shall believe in them when I see them!”
Magnus knew better than to argue with an admiral; the expression on Jellicoe’s face suggested he need not do so – he was convinced of the menace of the torpedo.
Captain Jellicoe took over the conversation.
“A Chinese army, you say, Lord Eskdale. Is there such a thing?”
“Given a strong Chinese government, then most definitely, sir. The Chinese are weak because their leaders are vicious, sir. The Qing are on their last legs – luckily for us – and China is decrepit solely because of that. Give the ordinary Chinese the proper leadership they want, and watch what will happen, sir. You know, I heard a deal of nonsense about something called ‘Eugenics’ when I was in England – the superiority of some races over others – I ain’t no scientist, that’s for sure, and for all I know the Africans might be naturally inferior to the English – but the Chinese and Japanese are our equals, that’s for sure. You might argue about India, where a handful of Englishmen rule millions of them, but what I have seen of the Chinese says that the ordinary folk here are just as educated as us, and equally bad-tempered. The general who runs the army in Hanshan is very good, sir – give him guns, and we have done just that, and he will stand toe to
toe with us any day.”
“I shall believe when I see it, Lord Eskdale, but you have seen it. What do we do?”
Magnus laughed.
“Why, give more guns to the Chinese who support us, sir. Keep them sweet. They lack the industry to cast their own great guns, sir, or to make machine guns – so we supply that lack and let it be clear that we ain’t doing so out of the goodness of our hearts. We are buying their good favour, and they will be happy to trade with us on that basis – until they get a new government that will let them throw us, and every other foreigner, out of their country.”
Jellicoe was impressed, could see the policy as logical; Admiral Seymour was deeply unconvinced and was not about to allow little yellow men to stand up as his equals.
“Be that as it may, Lord Eskdale. You are to visit Hanshan again and show yourself friendly, but you are master, be clear of that.”
“Yes, sir.”
The admiral had spoken and there could only be one answer. Captain Jellicoe led Magnus away from the presence, ostensibly to sit down with him to discuss all of those items of business that came under the flag captain’s purview.
“Coal and ammunition, my lord. Men, officers particularly – have you promotions or transfers in mind?”
“I could use a Gunner who had some idea of fast and accurate fire, sir. My man firmly believes that he will conduct the next war at broadsides, a cable distant! He would be better suited to polishing the brasswork on a battleship, sir.”
“Tactfully expressed, Lord Eskdale. You seem to have a jaundiced view of battleships.”
“In their proper place, very useful, sir. I would suggest that their proper place is as squadrons dispersed around every major anchorage in Britain, ready to sally forth to beat up any invader. Purely defensive beasts, sir, sheltered by a screen of torpedo boats and destroyers. To command the seas, flotillas of heavy and light armoured and protected cruisers, able to control the trade routes and to take every enemy colony. In our own colonies, sir, torpedo boats are the answer. We could man twenty torpedo boats from the complement of a single battleship, sir.”
02 Shanghai Dreams (The Earl’s Other Son #2) Page 7
