The Bomb Vessel nd-4

by Ричард Вудмен

  'No, I can't see a thing. D'you want me to tell the captain on my way below?'

  'Yes, I'd be obliged to you.' Rogers turned away. 'Hey fo'c's'le there! Can't you see anything unusual on the starboard beam. Keep your blasted eyes peeled, God damn it, unless you want a Danish guard-boat coming alongside to piss in your ear while you're asleep up there…'

  'Aye, aye, sir.' Lettsom heard the aggrieved tone in the response.

  In the cabin he told Drinkwater of the news of Cruizer.

  'Thank you Mr Lettsom, pray take a seat. Will you take a glass and a biscuit with me? I daresay we will know what's amiss tomorrow morning, in the meantime a glass to keep the cold out before turning in would be a good idea, eh?'

  'Indeed it would, sir, thank you.'

  'Mr Lettsom, I don't care much for doggerel, but I hear that you command a superior talent upon the flute. Would you oblige me with an air?'

  'With the greatest of pleasure, Mr Drinkwater. Are you familiar with the work of Lully?'

  'No. Pray enlighten me.'

  The fleet had moved south from Hven at daybreak. They were now anchored within sight of the roofs and spires of Copenhagen, at the northern end of Copenhagen Road. Another council of war had been held aboard London to which the artillery officers were summoned. Quilhampton returned from delivering Tumilty to the flagship with news for Drinkwater.

  'Amazon and Cruizer, sir, they've been forward with the Lark, lugger. Lord Nelson's reconnoitred the Danish position, so one of the mids aboard London told me.'

  Drinkwater nodded. 'Doubtless we'll learn all the details when he returns. I'm obliged to you Mr Q.' Drinkwater reached for the old notebooks of Blackmore and pored over the chart, lost in thought.

  The Danish capital of Copenhagen straddled a narrow strait between the easternmost part of Zeeland and the smaller island of Amager. The strait formed the inner harbour and ran through the heart of the city. To the east the sea formed a large open roadstead separated from the main part of The Sound by the low, sandy island of Saltholm which supported little but a few huts and a quantity of marram grass. But the roadstead was deceptive. In addition to the shoals that lined the shores of Amager and Saltholm, which converged at the southern end off Drager in The Grounds, a large elliptical mud-bank split the roadstead in two. Called the Middle Ground it divided the area into two navigable channels. The westernmost one, which from the British fleet's present anchorage led first towards, and then southwards past Copenhagen, was called the King's Deep. The easternmost which ran due south close to the Saltholm shore, and out of range of the guns at Copenhagen, was known as the Holland Deep.

  The problem in attacking Copenhagen would be whether to enter the King's Deep from the north, which might bottle the ships up at the southern end with an unfavourable wind preventing them returning through the Holland Deep, or assembling at the southern end and forcing a passage to the north through the King's Deep when the wind changed.

  Drinkwater was suddenly disturbed by the opening of his door and the gleam of gold coins flung across the chart before him. He looked up in astonishment. Tumilty's usually florid face was blue with cold and a large dewdrop depended from his nose. But his expression was one of utter joy.

  'There's my stake in the wager, Nat'aniel, and sure it is that I've just as cheerfully parted with another five to Captain Lawson for his superior pyroballogy from the Zebra, so I have.'

  'And what of Zebra, Tom?' asked Drinkwater cautiously.

  'Would you believe they've strained the thirteen-inch mortar bed mortal bad! And would you believe that they've sprung a gar-board on the reef, and while it ain't what her commander would call serious, what with the hands pumping for an hour a watch, but further concussions of her mortars might let the whole o' the Baltic into her bilge?'

  'And Virago?' asked Drinkwater rising to pour two glasses of blackstrap.

  'Nothing firm yet, Nat'aniel. Flag officer's minds don't leap to decisions with the same facility as that of your humble servant's, but 'tis only a matter of time until expedience itself must recommend Virago to fill the breach, an' there's me money as an act of faith.' He lifted the glass to his lips giving one of his heavily conspiratorial winks.

  Drinkwater digested the news. 'What did you learn of the plans for the rest of the fleet?'

  'Oh, Parker's increased the size of Nelson's detachment by adding Edgar and Ganges.'

  'That makes twelve line of battle ships. D'you think he means Nelson to make the attack?'

  Tumilty nodded. 'Certain of it… Fremantle is put in charge of those damned flat boats and there are some additional signals. Here, 'tis all in these orders.'

  Tumilty tossed the papers onto the table. He added conversationally, 'Isis lost seven men passing Cronbourg when one of her old guns blew up.' He emptied his glass, helped himself to another and went on, 'Nelson, it seems, went ahead yesterday afternoon in a lugger…'

  'The Lark.'

  'Just so; then last night Brisbane took the Cruizer and laid a couple of buoys at the north end o' the Holland Deep. D'you know where that is?'

  Drinkwater pointed at the charts before him. Tumilty peered over his shoulder. 'Ah, and yesterday Nelson saw the Danes hacking down beacons off Dragor…'

  'Here, at the southern end of the Channel leading to Copenhagen from the south. If we'd gone by the Great Belt we'd have had to pass the cannon at Dragor and as you see there is less room than through The Sound.'

  'Just so, just so… apparently the whole operation is now in jeopardy because the beacons and buoys have been removed from the approach channels. There's a line of forts and floating batteries along the waterfront at Copenhagen and they command the approaches from the north or south. In their front lies a shoal…'

  'Here,' Drinkwater pointed. 'The Middle Ground, between the flats round Saltholm and Copenhagen itself.'

  'Nelson wants to attack from the south, waiting for a southerly wind so that he may have a breeze to carry himself north if he's forced to disengage. The position looks formidable enough…'

  'And if it ain't buoyed…' Drinkwater's voice tailed off and a remote look came into his eyes. Then he suddenly slapped his hand down upon the papers.

  'God's bones, why the deuce did I not think of it before… where the devil's Lord Nelson now?'

  'Nelson? Why he's still on the London, or perhaps the Elephant… hey, where are you going?'

  Drinkwater flung open his cabin door and shouted 'Have a boat ready for me at once there!' then re-entering the cabin he reached for his cloak, hat and sword.

  'I'm off to see Nelson.'

  'What about your orders?' Tumilty pointed to the packet lying unopened on the desk.

  'Oh damn them! We ain't going anywhere until those channels are buoyed out!'

  Nelson's barge was returning alongside Elephant as Virago's boat approached. The barge had not left the battleship's side, although the admiral had gone on board by the time the Virago's boat bumped alongside and a tall lieutenant jumped across into the barge, teetered for a second upon a thwart, grabbed a tossed oar for support, and with a muttered 'By your leave,' flung himself at the manropes and scaled the side of the Elephant.

  Touching his hat to the quarterdeck and announcing himself to the astonished marine sentry at the entry port Drinkwater collared a passing midshipman and looked round. The tail of a posse of officers was disappearing under the poop and Drinkwater guessed they followed Nelson into his cabin.

  'His lordship, cully, upon the instant…' he growled at the boy.

  Nelson was dismissing the entourage of officers, rubbing his forehead and pleading fatigue as Drinkwater pushed through them.

  'What is your business, sir?' Drinkwater found himself confronted by a tall man in the uniform of a senior captain. The midshipman had melted away.

  'By your leave sir, a word with his lordship…'

  'What the devil is it, Foley?'

  'An officer who requests a word with you.' Foley half turned and Nelson appeared in the doorway of
the great cabin.

  'My lord, I beg a moment of your time…'

  Nelson was frowning. 'I know you!'

  'I entreat your lordship to permit me to assist in the surveying and buoyage duties attending the fleet's approach to Copenhagen…' He felt Foley's hand upon his arm.

  'Come sir, this is no time…'

  'No, wait, Foley.' Nelson's one good eye glittered, though his face was grey with fatigue. 'Let us hear what the lieutenant has to say.'

  'I was employed during the last peace in the buoy yachts of the Trinity House…'

  'The Trinity House has provided us with pilots who do not share your enthusiasm, Mr, er…?'

  'Drinkwater, my lord. You misunderstand me. These men are from the Trinity House at Hull, unfamiliar with the techniques of buoy-laying. The buoy yachts of the London House are constantly about the matter.'

  There was a pause, then Nelson asked: 'Have I not seen you somewhere before, Mr Drinkwater?'

  'Aye, my lord, at Syracuse in ninety-eight. I was first of the brig Hellebore…'

  'The Hellebore?' Nelson frowned.

  'You sent her to the Red Sea to warn Admiral Blankett of French intentions in Egypt.'

  'Ah, I recollect. And all to no avail, eh, Mr Drinkwater?' Nelson smiled wearily.

  'Not at all, my lord, we destroyed a French squadron and brought home a fine French thirty-eight.'

  'Ah…' Nelson smiled again, the wide, mobile mouth that betrayed the wild passion of his nature showed too that he was still a man of no great age.

  'Mr Drinkwater,' he said after a moment's consideration in the rather high-pitched Norfolk accent that he never attempted to disguise, 'your zeal commends you. What ship are you in?'

  'I command the bomb-tender Virago, my lord. She has two mortars mounted and an artillery lieutenant as keen to use 'em as myself…' he held the admiral's penetrating gaze.

  'The ruddy Irishman that was at this morning's conference aboard London, eh?'

  'The same, my lord.'

  'I shall take note of your remarks and employ you and your ship as seems most desirable. I will acquaint Captain Brisbane of the Cruizer of your familiarity with the matter now urgently in hand. In the meantime, I must ask you to excuse me, I am most fearfully worn out… Foley be a good fellow and see Mr Drinkwater off…'

  'Thank you, my lord.' Drinkwater withdrew, never having thought to have an admiral ask to be excused, nor such a senior post-captain to escort him to his boat.

  'I hope you are able to make good your claims, Mr Drinkwater,' remarked Foley.

  'I have no doubt of it, sir.'

  'The admiral's condescension is past the tolerable limits of most of us,' the captain added with a touch of irony, handing over the importunate Drinkwater to the officer of the watch.

  But Drinkwater ignored the gentle rebuke. He felt the misconstruction placed upon his presence with Lady Parker at Yarmouth was now effaced. He had glimpsed that Nelson touch at Syracuse and now he knew it for what it really was. In contrast with the tradition of self-seeking that had divided and bedevilled fleet operations for generations, Nelson was destined to command men united in purpose, whose loyalty to each other overrode petty considerations of self. They might not triumph before the well-prepared defences of Copenhagen but if they failed they would do so without disgrace. In the last words of Edmund Burke, if die they must, they would die with sword in hand.

  'Now gentlemen,' Drinkwater looked round the circle of faces: Rogers, the assembled warrant officers, the red-faced coat of Tumilty, the thin visage of Quilhampton. 'Well gentlemen, we are to split our forces. Mr Tumilty is to continue his preparations with his party under the direct command of Mr Rogers who will assume command of the ship in my absence. The three watches will be taken by Messrs Trussel, Matchett and Willerton who will also attend to those other duties as may from time to time be required of them. Messrs Easton and Quilhampton will provide themselves with the materials on this list and select a boat's crew which is to be adequately wrapped up against the cold. Mr Lettsom, you and Mr Jex will serve additionally to your established duties to second those other officers as they require it, or as Mr Rogers or myself deem it necessary. This is a time for great exertion, gentlemen, I do not expect to have to recall anyone of you to your duty but there will be little rest in the next few days until the matter presently resolved upon is brought to a conclusion. What that conclusion will be rests largely upon the extent of our endeavours. Is that understood?'

  There was a chorus of assent. 'Very well, any questions?'

  'Aye sir.' It was Matchett, the boatswain.

  'Yes?'

  'Are we to stand in the line of bombs, sir, as I've heard?' Drinkwater shot a glance at Tumilty whose innocent eyes were studying the deckhead.

  'I cannot tell you at present, Mr Matchett.' A murmur of disappointment ran through the little assembly. 'All I can say is that I represented our case to Lord Nelson himself not an hour since…'

  There was a perceptible brightening of faces. 'That is all, gentlemen.'

  'Sir! Beg pardon, sir.'

  'Yes, what is it?' Drinkwater turned from the boatswain to Mr Quilhampton.

  'For this surveying, sir, the tablet and board…'

  'Yes?'

  'Well, sir, I can hold a pencil in—my right hand but…' Quilhampton held up the hook that terminated his left arm.

  'Damn it, I had clean forgot, accept my apologies, Mr Q…' Drinkwater tore his mind off the instructions he was giving to Matchett and rubbed his forehead.

  'Why don't 'e see Mr Willerton, sir. Carpenter'd knock him up a timber claw to hold anything, sir.'

  'See to it, Mr Q, obliged to you Mr Matchett, now to the matter of these buoys. I want as many nets as you can knock up, about a fathom square, use any old rope junk but the mesh must be small enough to stop a twenty-four pound ball from escaping. Fit the boat up with coils of ten fathoms of three inch rope, enough for as many nets as you make. Then I want some of those deal planks left over from fitting the magazines, you know, the ones that Willerton has been hiding since Chatham, and small stuff sufficient to square lash 'em into a cross. No, damn it we'll nail 'em. Then I want a dozen light spars, boat-hook shafts, spare cannon ramrods, that sort of thing, all fitted with wefts of bunting. Get the duty watch cracking on that lot at once.'

  'How many balls to each net, sir?'

  'Four'll be too heavy to manhandle over the gunwhale, better make it three.'

  'Then we can make the nets a little smaller, sir.'

  Drinkwater nodded, 'See to it then.' He turned aft and caught sight of the purser. 'Oh, Mr Jex!'

  'Sir?'

  'Mr Jex, Mr Tumilty has asked me that it be specially impressed upon you that your party of firemen be adequately trained in the use of pump and hoses. When we go into action their efforts are required throughout the period the mortars are in use.'

  'When we go into action sir?' Jex queried uncertainly. 'But I thought that the matter was not yet..'

  'I hope that we will soon know… ah, Mr Willerton are you able to help Mr Q? You have little time…'

  Drinkwater did not see the pale face of Mr Jex staring with disbelief at his retreating figure.

  Half an hour later Drinkwater reported to Brisbane aboard Cruizer.

  'Now see here, Drinkwater, what we achieved last night in the way of buoying the channel was little enough.' Brisbane leant over the sheet of cartridge paper spread upon the table in Cruizer's cabin. On it the brig's master, William Fothergill, had pencilled in the outline of the islands of Saltholm and Amager. Upon the latter stood the city of Copenhagen. Also drawn in were the approximate limits of the shallow water.

  'We are attempting to find out the five fathom line which will give us ample water for Nelson's squadron. Happily for us the tidal range hereabouts is negligible, although a strong southerly wind will reduce the water on the Middle Ground…'

  'So I understand, sir.'

  'Last night we sounded for the eastern limit of the Holland Dee
p, here, along the Saltholm shore and laid four buoys…'

  'What are you using for buoys, sir?'

  'Water casks weighted with three double-headed shot, why?'

  'With respect, sir, though adequate, the casks may be difficult to see, particularly if the sea is covered with sea-smoke as has been the case the last three mornings. May I suggest planks or short spars lashed or nailed in a cross with a hole drilled for a light pole. Ropes stoppered at the ends of the plants and drawn together to a becket at the base of the pole will afford a securing for the mooring and assist the pole to remain upright. If the pole carries a weft or flag I believe you will find this method satisfactory…'

  'Damn good idea, sir,' put in Fothergill, 'and if necessary a lantern may be hung from the pole.'

  'Quite so.' The three men straightened up from the chart smiling.

  'Very well, Mr Drinkwater, so be it. Now Mr Fothergill is about to ink in what we have done so far and then this chart will go across to Captain Riou aboard Amazon. From now on all surveying reports are to be returned to Amazon where this chart is to be completed. I understand they have a squad of middies and clerks making copies for all the ships as the information comes in.'

  The meeting closed and Drinkwater urged his oarsmen to hurry back to Virago. Already his active mind was preparing itself for the coming hours. Away to the southward of them Amazon was anchored off Saltholm, together with the Lark and the other brig, Harpy, and the cutter Fox. Boats were out with leadsmen, their cold crews struggling through the floes of ice that reminded them all that further to the eastward the pack was breaking up and every day brought the combination of a Russian fleet closer. Even before they reached Virago, Cruizer was underway again with Lord Nelson on board to reconnoitre the enemy position.

  It was late afternoon on the 31st before Drinkwater and his two boats pulled away from Virago's side. Astern of them each towed the materials for two buoys, dismantled and lashed together so as not to inhibit the efforts of the oarsmen. Each boat was heavily laden with nets of round shot in the bilges, small barricoes of water under the thwarts and each oarsman had his feet on a coil of rope and a cutlass. The oars were double-banked with two spare men huddled in the bow. All, officers and men alike, were muffled in sheepskins and woollen scarves, mittens and assorted headgear. All had had a double ration of spirits before leaving the ship and two kegs of neat rum were stowed under the stern sheets of each boat. Mr Jex had protested at the extravagance but had been quietly over-ruled by Drinkwater.