The Bomb Vessel

Tumilty, suddenly concentrating. The concussion rolled over the water towards them as they saw Explosion's waist billow clouds of smoke.

'She certainly lives up to her name.'

'They'll remark the fall of shot before anyone else fires,' said Tumilty informatively. They could see the arc of the shell reach its apogee and then they were distracted as the batteries at Cronbourg opened a rolling fire. For a moment Monarch's hull disappeared behind a seething welter of splashes, then behind the smoke of her own discharge as first she, and then successive ships astern returned the fire of the castle. It was six forty-five in the morning.

For the next hour the air was rent by the explosions of the guns. The deep rolling of British broadsides was answered by the heavy fire from Cronbourg. Nearer, the powerful and thunderous bark of the ten- and thirteen-inch mortars enveloped the lower masts of the bomb vessels in heavy clouds of smoke. No signals came from the bombs and the Viragos were compelled to stand idle, but it afforded them a rare and memorable sight.

'No fire from the Swedes, sir,' said Rogers, 'Monarch's inclining to their side of the channel.'

Parker's centre division was abeam of them now, all the ships setting their topgallants but keeping their main courses in the bunt-lines so as to hamper neither the gunnery nor the conning of the battlefleet through The Sound.

'Tis a fine sight, Nat'aniel,' said Tumilty, 'at moments like this one is almost persuaded that war is a glorious thing.'

'Sadly, Tom, that is indeed true. See the Elephant, the two-decker with the blue flag at her foremasthead, that's Nelson's flagship, see how he holds his fire. That's the contempt of Old England for you, by God!'

'If that's war on the English style, wait until you see that Irish version, by Jesus,' Tumilty grinned happily, ''Tis not your cold contempt, but your hot-tempered fury that puts the enemy to flight…'

They both laughed. 'There goes the old Isis. See Mr Q, that is quite possibly the last time you'll see a fifty in the line of battle… included here for her shallow draught I imagine.'

Beyond the battleships, on the Swedish side of The Sound the smaller vessels were under way. The gun- brigs and the frigates towing the flat-boats, the sloops and the fire-ships Otter and Zephyr, the tenders and cutters all stood southward, sheltered by the rear division of Admiral Graves. Only Blanche and Edgar remained to cover the bomb vessels and at fifteen minutes to eight the rear repeating frigate hoisted a string of bunting.

'Jamaica signalling, sir, 'Repeated from flag, bombs to cease fire and approach the admiral'.' Mr Quilhampton closed the signal book.

'That's a touch of the naval Irish, Mr Tumilty,' said Rogers nudging the artillery officer. 'It means Parker wants us to play chase.'

'Is that a fact, Mr Rogers,' said Tumilty calling his noncommissioned officer to the break of the poop while Drinkwater and Rogers bawled orders through their trumpets to get Virago under way.

The order was obeyed with alacrity. Topmen raced aloft to shake out the topsails while the fo'c's'le party set to with their spikes at the windlass. At the fiferails there was much heaving as sheets were belayed and halliards manned.

'Now Hite,' asked Tumilty, leaning over the rail and addressing the bombardier who had a watch and tablet in his hands, 'what did you make it?'

'Mr Lawson was engaged for thirty-seven minutes, sir, both mortars in use and by my reckoning he threw forty-one shells…'

Tumilty whistled. 'Phew, he must have been working them poor artillerymen like devils, eh Hite?'

'Yes sir.'

'An' I've lost five guineas, devil take it!'

'You've lost your wager then?' asked Drinkwater as he strode forward to get a better view of the fo'c's'le party.

'To be sure an' I have.'

'You look damned cheerful about it.'

'An' why shouldn't I look cheerful? An' why shouldn't you look cheerful seeing as how you stand to benefit from it.'

'Me? Hoist away there, Mr Q. Lively there with the cat-tackle, Mr Matchett. Steer south east, Mr Easton… how should I be delighted in your misfortune, Tom?'

'Well I'll put up another five that says Zebra will be unfit for the next bombardment and Virago will stand in the line.'

Drinkwater looked curiously at the little Irishman before turning his attention again to getting Virago under way and taking station in the rear of the line of bomb vessels.

Standing across to the Swedish side the squat little ships left the Danish shore as the frustrated guns of Cronbourg fell silent.

By nine o'clock they were clear of The Narrows and at noon anchored with the rest of the fleet off the island of Hven.

'I wonder what damage the mortars did, Tom.'

Tumilty shrugged.

''Tis not what execution they did to Elsinore or Cronbourg that should interest you, Nat'aniel, but what damage they did to Zebra.'

Chapter Fifteen Copenhagen Road

 30 March-1 April 1801

'Christ, but it's bloody cold again,' Rogers stamped upon the deck and his breath was steaming in the chilling air. It was not yet dark but the brief warmth of the sun had long gone. Pancakes of ice floated slowly past the ship and Lettsom, invigorated by the air's freshness after a day spent below and well muffled in sheepskins, watched curiously from the rail.

'I don't think I can stand much more of this blasted idling in ignorance Lettsom, stap me if I can!'

'Happen you have little choice,' answered Lettsom straightening up.

'No,' growled Rogers with angry resentment.

'I suppose you want to know what those two ships learnt…'

'Yes, Amazon and Cruizer went forward with the lugger Lark; her master's familiar with the approaches to Copenhagen. Someone said they thought Nelson was in the lugger but…' he shrugged resignedly. 'Bollocks to them; I suppose they'll tell us in good time when they want us to get shot.'

'How is our commander taking the delay, he seems an active man?'

'Drinkwater? He's a strange cove. He was promoted in '99 but because of some damned administrative mix-up, he lost the commission. He took it blasted well; if it'd been me I'd have made an unholy bloody row about it.'

'I don't doubt it,' said Lettsom drily, 'I think our Mr Drinkwater something of a stoic, though an oddity too. What d'you make of this spy business?'

Rogers shrugged. 'What is there to make of it? As I said Drinkwater's a strange cove. Been mixed up in the business since before the war; ask Tregembo if you want to know about our commander. Lying old buzzard will tell you tales as tall as the main truck; about the young midshipman who slit the gizzard of some Frog and took the m'sieur's sword for his pains, or retook an American prize after her crew over-powered the prize crew. All in all it's a bloody mystery why our Nathaniel ain't commanding this bloody expedition against the festering Tsar… Let's face it, Bones, he couldn't make a worse mess of it than that old fool Parker and he's got Lord