02 Shanghai Dreams (The Earl’s Other Son #2)

by Andrew Wareham

  He came away and took himself to his cabin, feeling guilty that he could not find a greater natural sympathy for the unfortunate who had suffered under his command. Perhaps he was a naturally cold-hearted person, he thought.

  There was a great mass of reports to be made, ranging from the necessary statement of the facts of the action for the admiral to the requisitions for stores expended and repairs to be made. All was delayed by Carter, in indignant mode.

  “Four broken portholes, sir. Glass smashed by rifle bullets. Bloody vandalism! These Chinks got no respect, sir.”

  “Possibly they did not know just whose glass they were breaking, Carter. It might not have been malice, you know.”

  “Did you identify those field pieces, Mr Mason? I could not see what they were.”

  “Nor me, sir. Perhaps Mr Brownrigg will have an idea.”

  Brownrigg was casually knowledgeable.

  “De Bange, sir, from the shape of the breech. Eighty mm, I think, about eleven pounds. Presumably taken during the wars with France in Indo China and the south of China generally. The French experienced a number of minor defeats in their wars, sir. Completely unsuited to shipboard use, I would have thought, because of the recoil. Better than nothing perhaps. I suspect they were to be more of a threat than a real weapon, sir. Most merchantmen would give up rather than face a bombardment by modern seeming guns.”

  Magnus was slightly disappointed – he would much rather have discovered the guns to be German.

  Admiral Seymour was pleased with their success.

  “I shall pass the word in the proper places, Eskdale. All of the merchants will hear that the Navy has protected their interests again. They hate pirates, which is hardly surprising, and are forever moaning that they pay huge sums in taxes and get nothing in return. Bloody scoundrels, all of them! The truth is that they fiddle every penny they can, pay as little tax as they can get away with and then expect the Navy to protect them for free! However, they own the politicians and we do not, and that’s the end of it as far as we’re concerned.”

  Captain Jellicoe gravely agreed – the merchants in China seemed to him to be particularly rapacious examples of the breed.

  Magnus made no comment, quietly hoping that he might get orders for Shanghai now to grant him proximity to his own favoured merchants.

  “French guns, you say, Eskdale?”

  “So my gunner informed me, sir. He tells me that they have a distinctive breech, recognisable at a distance.”

  Captain Jellicoe agreed.

  “The de Bange system, Lord Eskdale. Very clever, but the word is that the French are developing something better, due to come into service this year or next. They have invented some way of absorbing the recoil and leaving the gun still on its aim, much the same as a naval gun but on wheeled field artillery. It will increase the rate of fire massively, from two a minute to ten or more. At the moment a field gun must be re-aimed with each round, you see.”

  Jellicoe was renowned as a gunnery man. If he said it to be so, then it was.

  “Have we the like in development, sir?”

  “Possibly. It is unlikely that the Army will have woken up to the need yet. I have little doubt that they will catch up at some time in the next twenty years – immediately before the next innovation that makes them out of date again.”

  It seemed reasonable. The Army was as deeply stuck in the mud as the Navy; in their case the question was, ‘what might Wellington have done?’

  Admiral Seymour turned to orders.

  “The quiet life for you and Racoon for a few months, Eskdale. Shanghai, you will be pleased to know. Guardship. There will be a steam tug and lighter made available at a couple of hours notice to take a party and a twelve-pounder up the river as necessary.”

  “My gunner is well capable of handling that, sir. Mr Brownrigg has matured in the few weeks he has been with me and will benefit from the opportunities that detached service will provide. I shall send another officer with him to command the landing party, of course. That duty will rotate, I think, to give all of my people a chance to shine. On the topic of officers, sir, a replacement Paymaster would be of great value. If Mr Eccles survives, then he will still be on the sick list for many months.”

  “Ah, yes, that is very true. I have a medical report on him, in fact.”

  Admiral Seymour pawed helplessly at his desk, seeking the correct piece of paper. Jellicoe came to his rescue, shaking his head; the Flag Captain’s desk was rigorously organised, as was the man himself.

  “Here it is, I see. Yes… the Surgeon says that Mr Eccles will be long in his care. He still will not predict his survival… no more than a half chance of living and if he does pull through, it will be with but one lung functioning. Any infection might finish him. Obviously, he must be invalided out of the service. When he leaves the Surgeon’s care he will go aboard a ship home.”

  “It can happen to any of us, sir.”

  “Very true, Lord Eskdale. There may be a bullet with any of our names on it. Send his servant ashore with his trunks, Lord Eskdale. You will need replacements for the lost men, as well; they can be posted today. It will take a little longer, I suspect, but I shall find a Paymaster for you as well. A lieutenant on a sloop who is in line to step up to a larger ship for a couple of years, prior to being made Paymaster-Commander in an armoured cruiser or battleship; that will be the thing for you and should not be too difficult to find.”

  Captain Jellicoe said he had three possible names in his files; two of them were in port currently and he would pick out the best suited and send him across for inspection.

  “You have a choice, Lord Eskdale, so you can see if the man I send is good for you.”

  Magnus made his thanks; he was very junior to pick and choose his wardroom.

  “Setting a wedding day when you get to Shanghai, my lord?”

  Magnus smiled, said he hoped so.

  “Not too long delayed, I trust, sir. Ridiculous, is it not? For years I have been, as they say, footloose and fancy free, yet now I only wish to hurry into the shackles of wedlock. My London acquaintances would stare to see me in such a state!”

  “Do you care, my lord?”

  “Not in the least, sir. I am merely very much aware that I am far luckier than all of them put together.”

  Captain Jellicoe, in his mid-thirties and still single, seemed a little envious.

  “I hope I may have your luck myself, one day, Eskdale. I wish you a long and happy marriage, my lord.”

  Paymaster Whitlocke presented himself in the admiral’s offices just two days later. It had occurred to Magnus that it would be gratuitously humiliating to the young man to call him aboard Racoon and then dismiss him as unsuitable. It would soon become common knowledge that he had been turned down for the post while a visit to the admiral’s quarters would carry no connotations at all.

  Magnus sat Whitlocke down, commented briefly on the hot and sticky weather of Hong Kong at that season, tried to set him at his ease.

  “Tell me about yourself, Mr Whitlocke. There are several families in the Navy of your name.”

  “Yes, sir. All of us related to some degree. A great-great grandfather retired from the sea with prize-money at the time of the American Revolutionary War, or just after. He married late, of course, but sired five sons – one inheriting the land he had bought, the other four going to sea and three of them enjoying a degree of success in small ships during Napoleon’s time. Those three wed and themselves sent sons to sea…”

  “A great proliferation of Whitlockes as a result, I appreciate.”

  “Just so, sir. I am a third son and a little short sighted, so I am a Paymaster, but it would be unthinkable to pursue a career on land!”

  Magnus laughed. He knew of the naval families and of their adherence to tradition, generation after generation.

  “Have you been long on the China Station, Mr Whitlocke?”

  “Two years, sir. Racoon is due for Home in three, I believe, and that wo
uld be about right for me, sir.”

  “And me. Five years is sufficient, I believe. I would be happy if you would come aboard Racoon, Mr Whitlocke. I think you would fit in well with us and you are strongly recommended by Captain Jellicoe, which is no small point in your favour. We shall not see a deal of excitement over the next while as we are ordered to Shanghai, in effect as a guardship, but it is not a bad place to be posted.”

  “It is one of the most exciting cities on Earth, they say, sir.”

  “More of a country man myself, Mr Whitlocke, but you may well be right.”

  Chapter Seven

  The Earl’s Other Son Series

  Shanghai Dreams

  “Finished with engines.”

  The instruction to Engineer Lieutenant Buchan served to inform the other officers that Racoon had entered harbour routine, the ship securely tied up.

  They were moored to a pontoon and so sentries were posted to the brow. In smaller, less secure, harbours they would have carried loaded rifles; in Shanghai they had a pickaxe helve in hand but in fact relied upon a loaded revolver discreetly placed out of sight and well within in arm’s reach. Their greatest concern was of thieves slipping aboard, normally at night but possibly in the company of legitimate port workers bringing stores from chandlers or quartermaster’s stores. The thieves would carry knives, as was a known fact that did not need to be investigated, and so it was legitimate to shoot them on discovery, according to regulations for the port.

  “Signal from Senior Naval Officer, sir. ‘Captain to report at his convenience’.”

  That meant very soon but not drop everything immediately.

  “Thank you, Mr Mason. A messenger to carry the Admiral’s bag to the Port Office, if you please. Postman ashore. I don’t know about shore leave yet. If possible, I want all of the men to have a few days while they can. The men behaved very well off Formosa; they deserve whatever reward we can offer in the way of time ashore.”

  Magnus knew that his words would be passed along, that the men would all hear that he was pleased with them.

  “Officers are at liberty to go ashore, of course, but not until I return and can tell them what our future holds. Captain Erskine may well have duties waiting for us.”

  Captain Erskine had obviously been eating well, had progressed from plump to noticeably fat. It was not uncommon for more senior officers to display a significant adiposity, but normally signified that they were content to remain in shore appointments for the remainder of their career. Men who looked for a sea-going existence were generally of the leaner kind.

  “Sir.”

  They exchanged salutes.

  “No urgent orders from Admiral Seymour, sir. The routine bag is in the office. Captain Jellicoe’s compliments and he would expect to make his tour of inspection commencing Shanghai in the next month. He would expect to use Barfleur, sir.”

  Barfleur was the other ten inch second-class battleship on station.

  “Then he don’t intend to go up to Hankow, Lord Eskdale. He would come in a cruiser if he wanted to tour the river.”

  “From what he has let drop, sir, he is using a battleship because it is his intention to make a formal visit to Japan following his inspection here. The friendship with Japan is to be strengthened, I believe, sir, with a possible view towards an eventual formal alliance.”

  Captain Erskine nodded thoughtfully; he was not unintelligent and was able to appreciate that meant a worsening of relations with Russia. An alliance between Britain and Japan would probably include the provision that neither would join a war against a single country – if, for example, Japan and Russia fought then England would stay neutral. If any of Russia’s allies joined in, then British forces would also enter the conflict. As Russia was Japan’s obvious enemy, the effect of alliance with Japan would be to isolate Russia from her own friends, France particularly.

  “What of France, Lord Eskdale?”

  “Good question, sir. We don’t know. From the little I have been told, it seems very likely that we will not edge closer to Germany. It is probable that we shall not form a direct alliance with France. The thing is, though, sir, that the old balance of power is gone. We can’t play off France against Germany against Austria-Hungary against Russia against the Ottoman any more; what we can do is essentially uncertain, sir. New territory, and essentially unexplored is what I am told. And then there are the Americans, who are starting to flex their muscles, sir.”

  “What’s the unofficial feeling, Eskdale? You probably know more of that than I do, stuck here in Shanghai. It’s a pleasant place to be, no mistake about that, but it’s a backwater politically.”

  That depended on the politics one wished to play, Magnus thought. The antics of the Great Powers in China could tell one a lot about the ambitions of the puppet-masters in the European capitals.

  “The buzz is that all is on edge, sir. If Germany seeks naval power then confrontation, war, against England is inevitable. On the other hand, if Germany remains content to create the greatest army in Europe, then at minimum an understanding becomes a very easy matter. Should Germany desire to expand eastwards, then Whitehall will have nothing to say about the business. If France was to try to recover Alsace and Lorraine, then it would be nothing to do with us. Were the Ottomans and Austria-Hungary to go to war, bringing Germany in on the one side and Russia on the other, then we would look on with benevolent interest, friend to all. But the bulk of opinion is that the Kaiser wants battleships to play with, and if he does, then twenty years will see us at war with Germany.”

  “Germany has Tsingtao now…”

  “It has, sir, and no doubt would wish to pick up more desirable properties in China. Her Majesty’s Government cannot approve of such German expansionism in what is a British sphere of interest, sir. It would be thought desirable to know what German activities are, sir.”

  “Impossible to tell, Eskdale – no way of getting the Chinks to speak to us. We just don’t know what is going on behind our backs.”

  “I may be able to discover some of what is going on, sir, from the commercial side.”

  “Good point, my lord. I have no such channels available to me, you know. Never been much of a one for mixing with trade, you know, Eskdale. Not the thing in my family.”

  Magnus laughed, finding the attempted sneer genuinely amusing.

  “Nor in mine, sir. My father will have another apoplectic fit when he discovers the company I am keeping, and hopefully marrying into. Times are changing, I believe, sir. I intend to change as well.”

  Captain Erskine regretted that he could not quite agree – not all change was desirable, in his opinion.

  “Better to keep to the standards that made Old England great, you know, Eskdale. Wiser in many ways to keep a distance from the lower orders… Easy for me to say, of course, my family having been careful over the last few generations.”

  Magnus knew Captain Erskine to be of a wealthy clan with great estates in Ireland particularly, but with land and rents in England as well. His eldest brother would be a fifty thousand a year man at least when he inherited the barony. It was a probability that Erskine, the third son, had an income of a good thousand a year settled on him.

  “My family have been more distinguished as spendthrifts since the Prince Regent’s day, of course, sir. My father, I must imagine, has very little left to spend. A sensible marriage is wise for me. I am very lucky in being able to combine good sense and personal desire, sir. I have every expectation of being very happy in my wedded life, assuming that neither father nor daughter have had second thoughts.”

  “I cannot for a moment imagine that they will, Eskdale. Peers are not two a penny, you know. Not many belted earls to be caught in Shanghai, you know!”

  They laughed merrily, Magnus unable to return the insult immediately. No doubt their feud would have many years in it; there would be other opportunities to sneer.

  “Admiral Seymour implied that Racoon was to be a guardship, sir, spending the bulk
of her remaining commission here in Shanghai but on alert to despatch gun and landing party wherever needed. Racoon is, to be honest, a failure as a ship, sir. A torpedo cruiser that can barely creak up to seventeen knots! A torpedo must, as you know, be fired at close quarters – it currently has a range of no more than a thousand yards. How does one reach close quarters with a ship one cannot catch, sir?”

  Captain Erskine did not know, and cared very little.

  “Much overblown, the torpedo, Eskdale. We have nothing to fear from that infernal machine. As you say, impossible of practical use. Admiral Seymour has sent me his orders for Racoon, subject to immediate operational needs, of course; as Senior Naval Officer, Shanghai, I must take the local decisions in the light of changing events here. The intention is exactly as you report. Racoon is to remain at twenty-four hours notice, fully coaled-up and ready to sail at six hours notice on the engines, but essentially acting as the guardship. There is to be a provost party available at thirty minutes at all times of day and night. Should disorder break out then Racoon will provide the first back-up to the police. An officer and thirty men would be reasonable, and as many again available within two hours.”

  That would be easily arranged under harbour conditions, Magnus thought. It would keep the men alert, as well, giving a reason for exercises.

  “That should go some way to keeping the complement awake, sir. Avoids idleness, which can only be a good thing.”

  Captain Erskine matched Magnus for pomposity.

  “Action is what made the Empire great, Eskdale!”

  “Hear, hear.”

  “There is a tug and lighter available at six hours notice, according to the contract. In fact, it may well be far less than that, depending on what is to hand at any given moment.”