The Bomb Vessel (32 page)

‘That will bring the whole city in range,' grinned the smoke-grirned Tumilty.

‘I think, gentlemen,' said Drinkwater shutting the Dollond glass with a snap, ‘that we are to be the ace of trumps!'

‘Oh, my God!' Drinkwater peered down into the boat alongside
Virago
. By the lantern light he could see the body of Easton lying inert in the stern sheets.

‘Where's the other boat? Mr Quilhampton's boat,' he demanded, suddenly, terribly anxious.

‘Here sir,' the familiar voice called as the cutter rounded the stern. There were wounded men in her too.

‘What the devil happened?'

‘Elephant
ordered us to carry out a cable, sir, and then, when we had done that, Captain Foley directed us to secure one of the Danish prizes . . .'

‘Foley?'

‘Yes, sir. Lord Nelson returned to
St George
when
Elephant
grounded trying to get away to the north . . .'

‘Go on . . .'

‘Well sir, we approached the prize about two o'clock and the bastards opened fire on us . . .'

Drinkwater turned away from the rail to find Rogers looming out of the darkness.

‘Get those men out, Mr Rogers, and then take a fresh crew and get over to the
Monarch.'

‘The
Monarch
, sir?'

‘I sent Lettsom over there earlier tonight, she was in want of a surgeon.'

‘Bloody hell.'

Drinkwater did what he could while he waited for the surgeon's arrival. It was little enough but it occupied the night and he emerged aching into the frozen dawn. It was calm and a light mist lay over the King's Deep.

The hours of darkness had been a shambles. After the exertions of the previous nights and the day of the battle, Drinkwater was grey with exhaustion. The British ships had not extricated themselves from the battle without difficulty. In addition to
Elephant, Defiance
had gone aground.
Monarch
, which had been badly damaged in the action and suffered fearful loss of life, had
become unmanageable and run inshore only to collide with
Ganges
, run aground and come under the renewed fire of the Danes. Fortuitously the impact of
Ganges
drove
Monarch
off the mud and both ships got away in the growing night. One of the Danish ships had exploded with a fearful concussion and the air was still filled with the smell of burning.

Drinkwater had worked his own ship across the King's Deep during the evening, answering
Elephant
's signal for a boat to attend her cables and
Monarch's
for a surgeon.
Virago
was now anchored closer to the city, commanding the Trekroner Forts with her still-warm mortars and in company with
Explosion, Terror
and
Discovery
.

A rising sun began to consume the mist revealing that the majority of the British fleet had joined Sir Hyde Parker at the north end of the Middle Ground. Lettsom returned with Rogers, whose boat's crew had worked like demons. To the south
Bellona
and
Russell
had gone, the former by picking up
Isis'
s cable and hauling herself off.
Désirée
, too, seemed to have got off. Nearer them
Defiance
was still fast, but by the time Drinkwater sent the hands to breakfast she too was under way.

Shutting the magazines and exhorting his officers to use the utmost caution bearing in mind the weary condition of the men, Drinkwater had the galley range fired up and all enjoyed a steaming burgoo. Drinkwater was unable to rest and kept the deck. The excitement and exertions of the last hours had driven him beyond sleep and, though he knew reaction must come, for the moment he paced his poop.

The Danish line presented a spectacle that he would never forget. From his position during the battle Drinkwater's view had been obscured by smoke. He had been able to see only the unengaged sides of the British ships and had formed no very reliable opinion of the effects of the gunfire. But now he was able to see the effect of the cannonade on the Danish vessels.

The sides of many of the blockships and hulks were completely battered in, with huge gaps in their planking. Many were out of position, driven inshore onto the flats off Amager. Some still flew the Danish flag. Looking at the respective appearance of the two protagonists, the shattered Danish line to the west, the British battleships licking their wounds to the north east, Drinkwater concluded there seemed little to choose between them. Possession of the field seemed to be in the hands of the Danes, since no
landing of the troops had taken place; no storming of the Trekroner from the flat boats had occurred.

And then his tired mind remembered his own words of the previous night. Here they were, the line of little bomb vessels, the tubby Cinderellas of the fleet, holding the field for the honour of Great Britain and turning a drawn battle into victory.

‘Sir, boat approaching, and I believe his lordship's in it!'

‘What's that?' Drinkwater woke abruptly as Quilhampton's bandaged head appeared round the door. He stretched. His head, his legs and above all his mangled arm ached intolerably. He could not have slept above half an hour.

‘What did you say? Lord Nelson?'

‘Yes sir . . .'

Drinkwater dragged himself on deck to see the admiral's barge approaching
Explosion
. It passed down the line of bomb vessels. The little admiral wore his incongruous check overcoat and sat next to the taller Hardy. The Viragos lined the rail and gave the admiral a spontaneous cheer. Nelson raised his hat as he came abeam.

‘Morning Drinkwater.'

‘Good mornin', my lord.'

‘I have been in over a hundred actions, Mr Drinkwater, but yesterday's was the hottest. I was well pleased with your conduct and will not forget you in my report to their Lordships.'

‘Obliged to you, my lord.' Drinkwater watched the boat move on. Beside him Lettsom emerged reeking of blood.

‘His lordship has paid a heavy price in blood for his honours,' the surgeon said sadly.

‘How was
Monarch
?'

‘A bloody shambles. Fifty-six killed, including Mosse, her captain, and one hundred and sixty-four wounded seriously. They say her first lieutenant, Yelland, worked miracles to bring her out. Doubtless he will be promoted . . .' Lettsom broke off, the implied bitterness clear. How many surgeons and their mates had laboured with equal skill would never be known.

‘Flat-boats approaching, sir.'

‘Mr Q, will you kindly desist with your interminable bloody reports . . .'

‘Aye, aye, sir.'

Drinkwater was immediately ashamed of his temper. Quilhampton's
crestfallen expression was eloquent of hurt.

‘Mr Q! I beg your pardon.'

Quilhampton brightened immediately. ‘That's all right, sir.'

Drinkwater looked at the flat-boats. ‘Let me know what they are up to, Mr Q.' He went below and immediately fell asleep.

He woke to the smell of smoke rolling over the sea. Going on deck he found an indignant knot of officers on the poop. ‘What the devil's this damned Dover court, eh?' He was thoroughly bad-tempered now, having slept enough to recover his spirits but not to overcome his exhaustion.

‘Old Vinegar's ordered the prizes burned,' said Rogers indignantly. ‘We won't have the benefit of any prize money, God rot him.' In a fleet that had subsisted for weeks upon rumour and gossip no item had so speedily offended the seamen. It was true that there was little of real value among the Danish ships but one or two were fine vessels wanting only masts and spars. Only the
Holstein
was to be spared and fitted as a hospital ship for the wounded. Nelson was reported to be furious with Parker and had remonstrated with his commander-in-chief on behalf of the common seamen in the fleet, arguing that their only reward was some expectation of prize and head money.

The vice-admiral seemed indefatigable. He was known to have arranged the truce and that evening went ashore to dine with his former enemies. Although peace had not been formally concluded the fleet had persuaded itself that the Danes were beaten.

Drinkwater shut the prayer book and put on his hat. The gospel of the resurrection had a hollow ring this Easter Sunday.

‘On hats!' bellowed Rogers. Drinkwater stepped forward to address the men.

‘My lads, I do not propose to read the Articles of War today, simply to thank you for acquitting yourselves so well on Thursday.' A cheer went up from the men and Drinkwater mistily realised it was for him. The shouting died away. ‘But . . . but we may not yet have finished work . . .' The hands fell silent again, staring apprehensively at him. ‘I received orders this morning that the truce ends at noon. If no satisfactory explanation is heard as to why our terms have not been accepted we will bombard the city.'

He went below and Rogers dismissed the hands.

‘Sir! Mr Rogers says to tell you there's boats coming and going between the shore and the Trekroner . . .'

Drinkwater went on deck and stared through his glass. There was no doubt about it – the Danes were reinforcing the defences.

‘So much for his lordship's toasts of everlasting fraternity with the Danes,' remarked Rogers sourly.

‘Man a boat, Mr Rogers, and take command of the ship in my absence.'

The boat could not go fast enough for Drinkwater and it wanted a few minutes before noon when he clambered up
London's
side and reported to the commander-in-chief. Parker astonished him by remembering his name. ‘Ah, Drinkwater, the officer of the watch informs me you have intelligence regarding the Trekroner Forts.' Drinkwater nodded. ‘By the way, my wife writes and asks to be remembered to you, it seems I was not appreciative of your services to her last year when we met before.'

Drinkwater bowed. ‘That is most kind of her ladyship, sir.' He was desperately anxious to communicate the news about the Danish reinforcements.

‘The Danes are pouring men into the Trekroners, sir, reinforcements . . .'

‘I think you may compose your mind on that score, Mr Drinkwater. The Danish envoys have just left me. The truce is extended.' It was only much later that Drinkwater wondered if Lady Parker implied anything in her kindness.

For two days the British fleet repaired the damage to itself, took out of the remaining prizes all the stores that were left and burnt the hulls. A south westerly wind swept a chill rain down over them and once again all was uncertainty. The seamen laboured at the sweeps of the flat-boats as they pulled between the plundered prizes and the British anchorage.

The cutter
Fox
left to survey the shallows over the Grounds to the south, past Dragør, in an attempt to find a channel suitable for the deep hulls of the first-rates and enable them to get through to the Baltic. Eager to assist, Drinkwater was ordered to remain on his bomb and keep his mortars trained on the city of Copenhagen.

Nelson and Colonel Stewart again dined ashore and the truce was further extended. News came that letters might be written and transported to England. Drinkwater sat at his reinstated table, snapped open the inkwell and paused before drawing a
sheet of paper towards him. There was one duty he was conscious of having put off since the battle. Instead of the writing paper he pulled the muster book from its place and opened it.

He ran his finger down the list of names, halting at Easton. He paused for a second, recalling the man's face, then his mouth set in a firm line and he carefully wrote the legend
‘D.D.'
for ‘discharged dead'. He repeated the process against the name Jex, suppressing the unchristian relief that clamped his lips even more tightly, then hurried down the list, and inserted the cryptic initials against four other names.

At the bottom of the column he paused again. Then, dipping his pen in the inkwell with sudden resolution he wrote
‘D.D.'
against the entry
‘Ed'd. Waters, Landsman Volunteer'
, sanded the page and pushed the book aside.

He found his hand shaking slightly as he began his letter to Elizabeth.

H.M. Bomb
Virago
Copenhagen Road
Wednesday 8th April 1801

My Darling Elizabeth
,

Cruizer
is about to leave with despatches and I have time to tell you that on Thursday last the fleet was engaged before this city. The action was furious but I escaped unscathed, so your prayers were answered. Many brave fellows have fallen but you may tell Louise that James got only a scratch. He has done well and exceeded my expectations of him. Peace is still not confirmed, but I think it likely. You will read in the papers of great exertions by Lord Nelson and I flatter myself that his lordship took notice of me. Some good may yet come of it, although I must not be too sanguine, his lordship not having the chief command
.