If all the talk of pistols, cutlasses and boarding pikes (long handled axes with sharp hooks on the back of the blade) was a bit alarming, I comforted myself with the fact that Cochrane was yet to lose a man in action. If I had known what was to come I would have taken evening classes in weaponry with Eriksson every night!
Despite having a tiny scruffy looking ship and guns more designed for a duck hunt than a man o’ war, both officers and men were extremely confident about their prospects for more prize money. I remember wondering at the time what they would be like with a proper ship. As it turned out when given a frigate years later Cochrane was even more successful. On his first cruise his share alone in prize money was £75,000 and he returned with five foot tall solid gold candlesticks lashed to all three masts from a captured treasure ship.
With all preparations for the Speedy complete and the harbour master anxious to get what he saw as an embarrassing spectacle away from his wharves, I treated the officers and Guthrie the surgeon to a final meal ashore on our last night in Gibraltar. I used some of the funds given to me by Wickham for expenses, which seemed only fair as they were helping me complete my mission. We went to one of the best taverns and after Cochrane took some gentle ribbing over the state of the Speedy from some of the other naval officers there, we settled down to some good food. It was mostly fish and shellfish as fresh meat was hard to get with Spain blocking the border, but there was some fine wine that had been smuggled in. As we got to the port and cigars Cochrane started talking about how he joined the Navy
“My uncle was a naval captain and he signed me up as a midshipman on the books of four different ships when I was a young boy. I did not serve on any of them at the time, it was just so that I would have seniority on the lists if I did enter the Navy. I was 18 when I joined my Uncle’s ship as a midshipman but officially I had already been in the Navy for ten years.
Initially the first lieutenant hated me, he was the one that sawed my sea chest in half as it was too big, but he was a superb seaman and I leant pretty much all I know from him. My first few voyages were patrolling along the Norwegian coast and then protecting the fishing and whaling fleets near Nova Scotia. No fighting at all but plenty of time to learn the craft of sailing a ship and in some rough seas too. They were good times though.” Cochrane suddenly smiled at an amusing memory. “On most ships there is a pet animal or two and on my Uncle’s ship he had a parrot. The bird had learned to imitate the call of the boatswain’s whistle and sometimes piped a call so correctly that it threw the ship into confusion. We even blamed the parrot for some of our own mistakes if we could get away with it and as it was the Captain’s pet little could be done. I remember one time when the mayor and his daughter from some Norwegian town paid a visit to the ship. The girl was being hauled aboard in a bosun’s chair when the bird whistled the call for ‘let go.’ The poor girl ended up in the sea with the mayor and my uncle shouting at the crew to haul her back up before she drowned. How the lieutenant hated that bird.”
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Chapter 9
We set sail on the third morning I was with the Speedy. It was a bright sunny morning and winds from the North East helped push the little ship on at a decent clip. The crew all seemed to know what they were doing, with little need for anyone to shout. Which was just as well as a few looked more than a bit delicate from a last night on shore, but others were happy and joking about the new prizes they would capture. For a while I too found it bracing to feel the deck moving under my feet in response to the wind but when we got out into the main straights of the channel the currents were stronger and the movement seemed more violent. As a result after a while my old seasickness returned, this time it seemed worse than before. I began to wonder if the seafood we had enjoyed the night before was as fresh as the tavern keeper had said, although everyone else was fine.
With the high probability of enemy spies in Gibraltar watching ship movements from the harbour, Cochrane steered an easterly course when in sight of land as though heading out to towards the main Mediterranean fleet. In late afternoon with the land a very distant smudge on the horizon we put about and started hauling on a more northerly tack. With the prevailing winds Cochrane estimated it would take just two days to reach Estepona. He would arrange our arrival at night, I would slip ashore in a boat, deliver my messages to the old priest and then be away again before anyone noticed that I was there. It seemed straightforward and I began to feel the overwhelming confidence of the rest of the crew – ah the naiveté of youth! To add to my good humour Cochrane rated me as a midshipman in the ship’s crew, which meant that I would get a share of any prize money, which could be a tidy sum if this trip was as successful as their previous voyages. I was repeatedly assured that Spanish coasters and merchants put up very little resistance. Their crews were supposed to be demoralised and I would just be required to join boarding parties and look like a fearsome pirate. The absurd folly of this advice became only too obvious just the next day!
Over night the wind weakened and thick sea mist developed over the ocean but as we were so recently from land we were sure of our position and pressed on northwards as fast as the wind allowed. As dawn broke the ship looked eerie, sailing in this white cloud and even on such a tiny ship I struggled from the tiny poop deck to see either the bowsprit or the top of the mast. While we could see little on deck Cochrane sent a lookout with a telescope aloft where he thought the mist would be thinner. Sure enough two hours later as the mist started to thin as the weak heat of the winter sun eventually burned through it, the look out reported seeing the tops of some masts to the east. God knows how they tell these things from a few sticks poking out the top of a cloud, but he was sure it was not a naval ship and from the spacing he felt it was a large merchant. Wolfish smiles spread across the faces of the crew, a single merchant taken alone and by surprise in the fog would make an excellent start to the voyage. A course was set to intercept this new craft but the mist was thinning all the time and would not hide us for long.
The thing people forget about sea battles is the time they take, you read about ‘em and about how this fleet intercepted that fleet and imagine that it all happened fairly quickly. In reality things happen very slowly, leaving those with a nervous disposition plenty of time to get windy about the likely outcome - and with my heaving guts I was literally windy already! However as the morning pressed on, the gossamer threads of mist were stripped from our goal like a teasing harlot and by noon she was revealed. That masthead lookout deserved a bonus in my book for she was exactly as he had predicted, a nice big fat merchant. She was over twice our size but seemed lightly manned and there were no painted gun ports along the side. The crew were delighted as she was worth a pretty penny to all of them, and to me I remembered. Cochrane was already working out the size of the prize crew she would require when the situation took a very unpleasant turn.
There are times in your life when everything could change on the tiniest chance, a split second making the difference between life and death. One of those moments happened then as we drew close alongside the merchant, about a hundred yards off her. I swear to God that Cochrane had inhaled the breath to shout the order to start the attack when the enemy revealed a surprise of her own. Along her plain sides two rows of a dozen gun ports appeared and seconds later a lot of very large bronze muzzles were pointing in our direction. I gaped in horror. Along our decks the gun crews were crouched behind the bulwarks ready to reveal our own relatively puny surprise, and still blissfully unaware of the guns facing them A ship’s boy was prepared with the flag halyards to run up the naval white ensign. If we had revealed either the flag or any of our hidden cannon first we would have been blown instantly to matchwood.
I looked across at Cochrane, who instead of being worried just looked annoyed and muttered something about having “caught a Tartar.” The crew watching Cochrane from the guns began to sense something had gone wrong and one started to put his head above the parapet to see.
“Keep yo
ur heads down boys, that merchant has just revealed itself to be a powerful Spanish frigate” said Cochrane calmly. I looked across and sure enough the Spanish ensign had just broken at their mast and now one of their forward cannons boomed to send a shot across our bows in the international signal to heave to and stop.
“It looks like we will have to use our Danish tricks sooner than I thought” said Cochrane and then he turned to a small scared looking ship’s boy crouching at the flag locker behind him.
“Don’t worry lad we have plenty of tricks to play yet, take off the ensign and run up the Danish flag quick as you can. And get that other flag I talked to you about ready to run up the mainmast when I give you the signal.” He turned to face the crew and conscious that sound travels well over water asked quietly “Eriksson where are you, time for you to go on stage, come on up to the poop and give the orders to heave to.” A grinning Eriksson stomped happily up to the stern seemingly unconcerned by the gaping muzzles pointing in his direction. Cochrane in his shabby blue coat gave a smart salute as he descended the deck, leaving the big Dane apparently in charge. He had only gone a couple of steps when Eriksson’s big voice started to boom “Stand by to….”
“In Danish you bloody idiot” Cochrane hissed at him.
“Ja” said the Dane and then louder “Stavved at hiventil” or something like that. The crew just stared puzzled and confused at him until in an exasperated voice Cochrane hissed “Oh for God’s sake, forenoon watch only stand by to heave to – but do it slowly and slovenly, remember we are not Navy. The rest of you stay hidden, a coaster this size would not have a big crew.”
You can imagine how I felt as I watched the situation unfold. My early confidence had disappeared up the gun muzzles facing us. The hap hazard Danish disguise did not seem likely to fool a child from this distance. Already I could see the Spanish decks alive with men and starting to lower a boat. The frigate had probably been sent specifically to look for the Speedy which had been pillaging local shipping but clearly did not yet realise that they had found their prey. As soon as they were aboard they would swiftly realise that only one of us could speak Danish and then that we were the actual ship they were looking for. We could expect no mercy after that. Despite the fact that we were a naval ship, the Spanish viewed the crew of the Speedy as little more than pirates after its activities along their coast over the previous year.
Wickham’s message looked destined to be undelivered and I thought of O’Hare’s warning about being captured and French hospitality and remembered that the Spanish also used some of their prisoners as galley slaves. In these winds we could not run from the Spanish and in any case they would open fire the minute they saw signs that we were not standing too as requested. Even the rest of the crew seemed tense. Some were watching Cochrane hopefully as though he was a magician about to pull a rabbit from a hat but I could see no trick serving here. I imagined the horror my father would feel when he discovered that I had ended up a galley slave chained into a fetid Spanish warship patrolling the Mediterranean until it was sunk, no doubt with me still chained to it. But then I realised that my father never would discover what had happened to his son as I doubted the Spanish offered a mail service to galley slaves.
As we lost way the rocking of the boat seemed more pronounced and I began to feel queasy again. I moved to the middle of the ship where the movement seemed less pronounced, muttering that I was going to be sick. Cochrane looked up sharply at this, he had been crouching watching the enemy ship with his telescope. “Don’t you dare disgrace yourself in front of the enemy Mr Flashman,” he said sternly. I nodded an acknowledgement, not thinking that I was capable of speaking and obeying his order simultaneously at that particular moment. I shut my eyes, swallowed back the rising bile and was only vaguely aware of Cochrane ordering Barrettt the steward to bring a cup of salty porridge on deck and another seaman to bring one of the dirty lamps from the focsle.
By now a boat with around thirty heavily armed sailors and a young officer had put out towards us. I slumped down out of sight with the rest of the hidden crew behind the bulwark. I could hear the officer in the Spanish boat shouting at us and Cochrane prompted Eriksson to reply. “Tell them we are the Clomer from Copenhagen. We have been to Algiers and are bound for Marseille. Do it in English but with your nice strong Danish accent as though you are struggling with the language.”
I heard more shouting from Eriksson as he passed this message on and then someone again calling from the approaching boat. They were speaking English back to the Dane and asking why he had changed course to approach their ship. It was a good question and no error, as the only ships likely to approach what looked like a nice fat Spanish merchant ship were other Spanish ships or someone looking to take her. It was clear that the Spanish strongly suspected we were the latter.
Cochrane hissed to the ship’s boy “Now lad run up that other flag.” I opened my eyes to see what nationality we were going to claim now. For a moment I thought it was the red and gold of Spain but then I saw that the flag was all yellow, which meant nothing to me. A sailor nearby saw my confusion and whispered “that there’s the yellow jack, they fly that when the crew is sick.”
Cochrane was whispering to Eriksson again and a few seconds later I heard Eriksson shouting to the Spanish boat that was halfway between the two ships now.
“Ve haf plague om bord” he yelled gesturing at the flag. “Ve sailed to you to see if you had a doktor or medicine to help. Three crew are dead and six are still sick. They got sick after Algiers.”
This last detail was key as most people in the region had heard that plague had indeed broken out at Algiers. In Gibraltar and countless other ports there were measures in place to stop the contagion spreading. I could hear the officer in the boat shouting back to his ship in Spanish, he was passing on the message to his captain and asking what he should do. I could not hear the reply but after a few moments the officer in the boat shouted that they still intended to board. “Get your crew to stand well back, if they come close we shoot” shouted the officer.
“Blast” said Cochrane “I thought that would work.” Then I heard a shuffling and when I opened my eyes again he was crouched next to me.
“Don’t worry Flashman, we will soon be out of this fix, just close your eyes for me will you.”
I was too ill to argue and so shut my eyes and a moment later I felt his hands touching my eyes and cheeks, he seemed to be smearing something greasy on them. Well I have never worn makeup in my life and this really did not seem to be the time and place to start.
“What the devil are you doing?” I asked struggling to get away from him.
“Just trying to make you feel better, now drink this and if you must be sick please do it over the side, there’s a good chap.” He passed me a cup of what looked like milk. Judging that I could not feel any worse, I took a deep draught of it. I had swallowed one mouthful when the saltiness hit me and then I felt the bits in my mouth and knew I was going to sick. I stood and twisted round and felt my stomach heave just as I got my head over the rail. I sent an arc of vomit several yards into the sea and was then dimly aware of the Spanish launch just a few yards further on. In the stern sheets stood a young officer in a smart blue coat generously adorned with lace. But it was his face that took my attention as it was fixed on me. In a single second his expression turned from one of haughty disdain to disgust and then horror. I was beyond any acting, myself, my stomach continued to wretch as I hung to the bulwark muttering “Oh God” repeatedly.
Only later did I understand the full spectacle provided to the Spanish officer. Having been ordered to board a ship that could be potentially infected with plague, he was understandably apprehensive. As he approached its side he saw a wild creature with sunken eyes and cheeks, courtesy of some lamp black marking from Cochrane, appear and void his entire stomach contents over the side. After a few seconds frozen in shock the officer noticed some of the former contents of my stomach drifting towards his launch and
that seemed to tip him into action. Shouted orders followed and the launch turned about and headed back to the ship as fast as it could go with the officer shouting to his captain that it was plague for certain.
Cochrane got Eriksson to shout again asking if they had a surgeon and medicine to keep up the pretence but the only word I picked up from the officer’s reply was ‘loco’ meaning mad.
One of the men started a cheer as the boat rowed away but Cochrane cut that off quickly
“Quiet lads we do not want to ruin the effect now. Not after Mr Flashman has valiantly given his guts to see them off.” And with that he came up beside me as I was still slumped over the side retching and patted me on the shoulder.
“Well done Flashman, well done indeed. You see, your illness was a disadvantage and we turned it into an advantage.” With that he went off whistling to himself and leaving me still feeling like death warmed up but with a strong urge to punch him on his supremely confident nose. It was a feeling that would occur many times again in my association with Cochrane.
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Chapter 10
We stayed wallowing stationary in the sea while the Spanish Frigate sailed North West in the direction of Minorca, where the Speedy was officially stationed. The crew were jubilant at the success of our deception, with Cochrane soaking up the praise at his cunning and ‘Flashman’s broadside’ being hailed as a masterstroke. I was also congratulated as though I had been in on the plan all along and grudgingly had to admit that it had been a good idea. In fact having expelled what had been making me ill, I was also slowly feeling a lot better. One of the seaman fetched me a scrap of mirror so that I could see my face and I began to fully understand the look of horror on the Spanish officer’s face for my appearance would give children nightmares. A combination of Cochrane’s ministrations and my wriggling about to avoid them had created a hideous mask of shrunken eyes and cheeks while another mark presumably incurred while I was trying to escape looked like the shadow from a growth on my chin.
Flashman and the Seawolf Page 8
