“Very good, Mr. Copperfield. Mr. Bates, if you please, we shall descend,” Wilkins called to another of the officers on deck. Moments later, the ship lay along the dock once more. “Now, I am to Government House. Mr. Weller, I believe you have secured transportation?”
Weller had been with him since he had been a sub-lieutenant in Australia, and there was no man more reliable. He was the ship’s boatswain as well. None of the men would cross the imposing bo’sun. Weller stood three inches taller than him, and half again broader in the shoulders. The man was a giant. Wilkins thought himself fortunate to have a good relationship with him.
He turned to encompass all the officers on the bridge in his briefing, “And gentlemen, when I return, I believe the addition of our new midshipman calls for a batch of punch from my grandfather’s recipe.” All his officers liked that indulgence. All of them.
Upon his return from Government House, Wilkins retired to his quarters to change hurriedly. Then he came forward, the captain’s quarters always in the stern of the ship, a tradition from the sea-going ships of the fleet. The bridge stood at the prow, an arse-over-tit design if ever there was one, but he had gotten used to it long ago. He did agree that visibility was much improved when charting one’s course from the front of the airship rather than from the rear.
The watch officers gathered so that he could issue orders and brief them on parts of what he had learned—but only a part. Not all of it.
During inclement weather, this new class of ship had metal posts that were placed about the deck, then walls fitted to them, and a roof, so that the bridge became enclosed. As it was warm, summer in the Southern Hemisphere, the walls were in stowage, whilst the sun’s hot rays were kept from their heads by the balloon bag.
“Gentlemen, we leave for Pretoria at speed! All leaves cancelled and the complement to be gathered for making sail before dusk. I wish to be up and underway no later than sixteen hundred.” Wilkins knew his officers were surprised by the orders. Sunset was but a few short hours away.
“We can still dine at eighteen hundred as planned. I am in need of your company and a round of punch to settle my nerves from our orders. Which I shall reveal in due course.
“Mr. Gay, I believe these constitute sufficient orders to keep you busy this little while?” When they gathered, once underway, Wilkins would tell them of his meeting with the admiral, as well as Mr. Cecil Rhodes.
Gay had the watch. “Aye aye, sir. If you please, there are not many hours for us to raise steam for launching at sixteen hundred. I shall attend to the matters of preparing for departure at once. Mr. Copperfield, and Mr. Wemmick, please attend. We will have to conduct a muster of the crew . . .”
Wilkins turned his attention to Jack Dawkins, the ablest of his sub-lieutenants in navigation. He, Dawkins, and the Master, Mick Bunsby, went to plot their new course.
Even should the winds blow against them somewhat, with a good compass and altitude, one could make transit with minute adjustments to their destination. Pretoria: a location that was readily marked on their charts. The biggest worry was stopping for coal at Kimberley.
“We will have to make our way to the depot at Beaufort West,” Wilkins said. The depot, only built within the last six months, they had flown their way to it once before.
“The railway still has not reached it, but it is near the middle of any sprint to Kimberley. We should reach it late in the day tomorrow, the winds holding steady,” Bunsby said.
Wilkins nodded to this. “True, but one can never count on the winds to do what they should. That is the first leg; then to Kimberley. And there, we will have to watch the men extra carefully.”
Dawkins grinned. The sub-lieutenant commanded the detail that brought the crew back from liberty when they last ventured to Kimberley. There were more than forty thousand inhabitants in that mining town, which meant it was a big town. A city. One filled with vices that miners and airmen each found tempting—and had partaken of, for it took three days to restore the crew to order previously.
Fortunately, the ladies who enticed the crew to frolic while on leave at Cape Town charged rates that were more conducive to the money the airmen had in their pockets. Wilkins knew such ladies of pleasure in Kimberley could cost twenty-five pounds for an evening’s entertainment—a significant cost for a captain’s wages, and far beyond the means of the men.
And yet, because he had given the airmen leave, they loved him the more for it. Even when he sent Dawkins and a detail to get all to return to the ship, they loved him for it.
Australia’s gold rush of the forties and fifties prepared Wilkins for what happened to men who hoped to strike it rich. He told his crew that more ended in poverty than in wealth. The truest way to riches was to sell shovels and stakes to miners. Sell them for claims and what money the miners had. Soon enough, he reflected, storekeepers could be holders of claims like Mr. Rhodes and other magnates.
Three airmen had been forcibly brought back to the ship, having tried their best to jump. Two weeks in the brig reminded them that the RDC was not a hardship. Working the Golden Mary, even when three thousand feet in the air, was rewarding.
When the officers, except for Sub-lieutenant Bates, who had the watch, assembled in his stateroom in the aft of the ship, Wilkins stood to welcome young Copperfield amongst them. The Golden Mary had room for only four junior officers. He had made room for Copperfield when he learned of his predicament. He could do no more. Copperfield, if true to the many legends Micawber had heard about Copperfields, would either fly or fall on his own.
“Gentlemen, before we have our toasts and you shall try this excellent punch I have blended, I will impart to you the details of our mission. As my grandfather always says, remember our family motto. ‘Nil Desperandum! Never despair!’ ”
Wilkins then explained how the admiral had sent him to meet with the legendary Mr. Rhodes. Then, he told his officers of the theft of the diamonds from Natal, to be retrieved as quickly as they could, ensuring the Army remain above the fray. They would get the diamonds back without the Boers complaining the British violated their sovereignty, although the annexation of the Transvaal meant there was no sovereignty to violate. The Boers seemed to have a different interpretation of what Sir Theophilus Shepstone had done when he had annexed the country.
“The admiral believes that our ability to travel swiftly provides opportunity to recover the diamonds and return before anyone suspects that they are missing.” Wilkins did not add that success would forestall the Transvaal’s eruption into war. And failure would lead to the very opposite.
When finished, Sub-lieutenant Dawkins stood to be noticed. “Sir, if I may, before the junior officer proposes the loyalty toast . . .” Dawkins looked to young Copperfield, for it would be his duty, his commission as midshipman most recently advanced, “I would offer us all another of your famous sayings.”
“Of course, yes, of course. Nothing we old men like hearing better than ourselves quoted back. Shows you young sots really respect us and all.” Dawkins was just a few years younger. The Master, Bunsby, easily twice their age, snorted, restraining a bark of laughter. On the bridge, he no doubt would have indulged in it.
Dawkins raised his glass. “Then, ‘Welcome poverty! Welcome misery, welcome houselessness, welcome hunger, rags, tempest, and beggary! Mutual confidence will sustain us to the end!’ I have always interpreted this to mean that if we rely upon each other when called to do so in service to Her Majesty, all will turn out for the best.”
Wilkins hoped his young gentlemen understood that to be so. His grandfather had kept the Bank of Port Middlebay solvent during the crash of ’73 with such attention. “Quite right. Quite right. You will have to give the young man credit, Mr. Bunsby, that he knows a little something.”
“Bah, I shall give him that he knows little!” Bunsby reached for his drink, then stopped and looked determinedly at young Copperfield.
“Of course,” Wilkins noted, “Mr. Copperfield, it is your duty to begin. M
r. Chairman,” who was Dawkins, as well, “you must conduct things. The loyalty toast.”
Copperfield got his nod from Dawkins and stood. “Captain, Mr. Chairman, gentlemen, I give you, Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. Long may she reign!”
The rest of the gentlemen pushed back their seats to stand, and followed Wilkins’ arm as he raised his own glass and uttered the same words. While he only took a sip, Bunsby, as was his wont, along with Dr. Sawyer, knocked back the entire glass. It was to be a long night, and both men, the Commander knew, would have heavy heads the following day.
Captain Micawber acted indulgently to Daniel Copperfield and the other midshipmen since they had left Cape Town. They were two days out, and—all things being equal—things proceeded well despite the blow.
However, at Kimberley, the Captain had said he was going to offer leave. The men knew they were going to face the Boers, and likely combat, something that they had trained for, but had not actually had to do yet.
“Is that Kimberley, sir?” Daniel asked Captain Micawber.
“It is. It is, indeed. We shall coal up overnight and then be gone at dawn.”
“But, sir, we can fly quite easily at night. Isn’t that a strength of the RDC?”
“Instead of slaving away and taking two hours to top the bins, we shall spend the night and allow the crew to entertain themselves. They will have four hours in each watch to do so. The punishment, should they be tardy, is well understood.”
Daniel nodded. The cat of nine tails was long gone, but they still whipped an airman for desertion. Being a second late returning from leave could bring a sentence of ten lashes. Midshipmen still were made to kiss the gunner’s daughter.
The captain explained part of command meant knowing when to be strict, and when to appease the crew. Even with leave, the ship had time to intercept the Boer thieves before they found safety in the Transvaal.
The Golden Mary could reach Pretoria with what coal they had, but might not fly much farther. Captain Micawber reminded Daniel that Pretoria was in the hands of the Empire just then. If things became volatile, they might not be able to get more coal there.
The Golden Mary had spent two hours at Beaufort West tipping up the coal bins into the lowest stowage. Daniel had overseen that last part in the hold, even scooping several shovelfuls, showing the men that he was capable of exertion. The coal came down a chute and had to be distributed evenly by manual shovel work.
The two large propellers powered by the steam engines allowed the dirigible to choose its course, rather than rely upon unpredictable winds to bring it to its destination. The propellers allowed the Golden Mary to reach speeds of over twenty miles each hour. Steam power changed the world. Land, sea, and air travel, all at constants, and faster than man had ever known. It was an amazing age.
Captain Micawber sent Daniel up the mast so he could use a glass and get a better view of the city as they approached. Kimberley was getting better, he had been assured, even from when the Golden Mary had docked there a few months before. Over the last few years, the town had progressed from chaos to a large city.
Last porting, some men had tried to jump ship. This time, Captain Micawber said he prayed no one would be so tempted. Daniel, though, believed they would be. The Golden Mary did not have the luxury to stay at length and see to those men who would test the captain.
From the lookout came a shout, “Ship ho!” and that led to scurrying about. Daniel turned his glass to that part of the city the lookout was pointing towards.
“Where away?” Lieutenant Gay had the duty below and called up to the lookouts on the mast.
“She hovers near the city center. She’s large, sir.” As they neared, the image became clearer and Daniel saw in his own glass what he had not thought to see.
The German ship, the Frederick, that they had heard was operating in Africa, moored at Kimberley. The Golden Mary had twenty-four guns. There were thirty-six twelve-pounders aboard the Frederick. It was longer and had one more deck than the Golden Mary. Daniel believed the Mary much more maneuverable, though.
Captain Micawber called the crew together as they neared the square where they would drop to the ground and the coal stores. “The enemy is here. And you all know whom I mean. I am placing my trust in you, men, that you can enjoy your liberty without revealing what we are about. You all are in our confidence about how important this mission is. The Germans must not find out, for if they do, I would hazard they would interfere. They should dearly love for us to fight another war, since we just finished one. And the German Emperor would no doubt wish to add this very rich land as his own. Though his son is married to our Empress’ daughter, I do not think that would stop the man and his minions, like Bismarck, from trying to take our diamond mines.”
None of the men said anything. This wasn’t a dialogue.
The captain’s instructions, before they left the ship and got themselves into trouble, were to be followed. In hindsight, Daniel wondered why the captain had not kept secret his orders about the thieves and the diamonds. But aboard a ship, the only secrets were those that were unshared with another. The ship, as big as it was, was still small, where the only privacy one had was when at the heads.
And in the Dirigible Corps, naval architects had to modify their design. Since the quarterdeck had moved forward, the heads were no longer positioned there, nor were they free to the open sea or air. One could not take care of their needs as if on a sea-ship for an airship could be traveling over a city or village.
“Let me leave you with these words, men: you will be tempted to spend what monies you have. I hope the city shall open its arms to us as it did when last we ported here, but it may not. The amenities you seek may be quite costly. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen pounds nineteen and six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, result misery.
“Watch that which is in your pockets, for we have other ports we shall reach, and we shall return to our berth in Cape Town, where you can acquire nearly all that you find here, and much the cheaper as well.”
Lieutenant Gay pulled Daniel aside. “Copperfield, you and Jarndyce will be refilling the coal bins during our first port watch. You will have liberty during the second, as will Dawkins, who shall be overseeing the coaling operation. I advise you that Jarndyce might be inclined to test the boundaries one finds at a port like Kimberley, yet he can well-afford to do so. However, I caution our other midshipmen to spend such leave with most of their money left here with the quartermaster, and with their hands shoved as far down their pockets as able.”
Sub-lieutenant Dawkins had overheard. “If you will allow, lieutenant, I shall take Daniel under my wing. You will recall that I am somewhat familiar with the town, and should be able to steer our young friend to places where he shall be in only the best circumstances.”
The older lieutenant looked to Dawkins. “Mind the captain’s words. This time, we have made few preparations and may not have the same kindness extended to us as our last liberty here.”
Dawkins nodded and it seemed all arranged.
Two hours of hard work after they ported saw the hold filled with coal. Enough to get to Pretoria and return to Kimberley, should such be needed. And more than an hour for him to clean up and make himself presentable. Working with coal left those in the deepest part of the hold as black as night. The coal dust inevitably flew all about the confined space.
When Daniel and Dawkins made their way to the gantry and down the stairs, they noted several of the airmen from the Frederick nearby, clustering at their own gantry. Two Royal Marines stood at the foot of the Golden Mary’s stairs and came smartly to attention as he and the older officer left.
“I shall show you around, Copperfield. And though none can consider themselves truly at home in such a rough and tumble environment as Kimberley, I know of some few places where the innkeeper shall sell us liquor at reasonable prices. A man in uniform is sometimes very good to be
seen through the window having a drink, for it calms the clientele. Other times, it is not so good, but our uniforms are a novelty, at least, anywhere inland.”
The two men soon made their way through streets, which were really just dirt that had rivulets of mud throughout, to the Three Cripples Tavern.
“Now, I ask you, young Copperfield, where are our rights? We are Englishmen and here we are in the furthest reaches of the Empire. Were we not in uniform, we should be treated lower than low where the only thing of value is the money in your pocket. And I have lived like that before.”
“Sir?”
“London, Copperfield. London. You are familiar with the place? And call me Jack, when we are off like this.”
Dawkins and he forked over near a pound for a pitcher of beer. Foul-tasting as beers go, the stores onboard ship were better. At eighteen shillings, it cost nearly ten times more than Cape Town. Not that Daniel had much time to have noticed, having only been in that city for two days himself before ordered to report aboard the Golden Mary.
“Not as good as we would find in London,” Lieutenant Dawkins said. “And not as cheap either.”
“Is that where you come from? London?”
Dawkins smiled, “I did. Born there and lived there for most of my younger life. I knew the streets as well as I know my hand here. But my old guv’nor shook me hard one day and got me a place on a ship. Cost him and me a fortune, then. A veritable fortune. He made an atonement and I will state I am the better for it.”
Daniel knew that London had many areas that were less than gentle. He suspected that Dawkins knew of them. His own grandfather, David, had spoken that he had been sent to such by Mr. Murdstone in his youth.
“Do you think that we shall see much action?” Daniel asked.
Dawkins looked about before answering, “A war having just concluded here against the Zulus, I am not sure we shall, and then, who would we fight? The Germans do have their airship, as you have seen, and the Belgians, I believe, are also close enough that they could reach us in a day or two with their own dirigible. For there is naught but a dirigible that could challenge us. Unlike the Navy, we have an entire new dimension—height—that we deal with. Aside from some raiding that the squadron in Cairo is doing, the RDC has yet to be placed in combat.”
Mechanized Masterpieces: A Steampunk Anthology Page 9
