The Bomb Vessel

were shaking out their topsails; seemingly as anxious to get among the enemy fire as their larger consorts. Fremantle's flatboats were also active, three or four of them clustered around Agamemnon's bow assisting in carrying out her anchors, and converging on Bellona and Russell who were under fire from the Provesteenen and howitzer batteries on Amager.

'Hullo, old Parker's on the move.' The levelled telescopes swung to the north where the Commander-in- Chief's division was beating up to re-anchor at the north end of the Middle Ground.

'I wonder if he can see Bellona and Russell aground?' asked Easton.

'He'll have a damned fit if he can, two battleships out of the line is going to have quite an effect on the others,' offered Rogers.

'Your fire-eating brothers in Christ will have their whiskers singed, Mr Rogers,' said Lettsom philosophically. 'Here is a quatrain for you:

'See where the guns of England thunder

Giving blow for mighty blow,

Who was it that made the blunder,

Took 'em where they couldn't go?'

Rogers burst out laughing and even Drinkwater, keenly observing the progress of the action, could not repress a smile. He walked across to the deck log and looked at Easton's last entry: '10 o'clock, van ships engaged, cannonade became general as line of battle ships got into station.'

To the north of them most of Parker's squadron were reanchoring. But four of his battleships were beating up towards Copenhagen against wind and current to enter the action.

Astern of the bomb vessels, Jamaica and the gun brigs were having a similar problem. The crowded anchorage had not allowed all the ships to get sufficiently to the south to weather the Middle Ground in the wind now blowing, and though Drinkwater thought that the shallow draught gun-brigs could have chanced slipping inside Cruizer, it was clear that Parker's caution was now epidemic in the fleet.

'Explosion's signalling, sir, 'Bombs General, weigh and form line of battle.''

The noise of the cannonade reached Mr Jex as he bent down in the hold. He was outboard of the great coils of spare cable, in the carpenter's walk against the ship's side. He had left the deck on the pretext of checking the sea inlet cock. From here water was drawn on deck by the fire engine, to spout from the two hoses his party had laid out on the deck. The spigot had been opened hours earlier and Jex merely crouched over it. His fear had reduced him to a trembling jelly. He could hear above the still distant sound of cannon the distinct chuckle of water alongside a hull under way: Virago was going into action.

For five minutes Jex huddled terrified against the ship's side before recovering himself. Standing uncertainly he began to make his way towards the spirit room.

Drinkwater stared through the vanes of his hand compass at the main mast of Cruizer.

'Damn! She won't weather Cruizer, Mr Easton, can you stretch the braces a little?'

Easton looked aloft then shook his head. 'Hard against the catharpings, sir.'

Rogers came and stood anxiously next to Drinkwater as he continued to stare through the brass vanes. He was swearing under his breath.

'Keep her full and bye, Tregembo!' Drinkwater could feel the sweat prickling his armpits. He took his eye off Cruizer for a second and saw how the stern of the grounded Russell was perceptibly nearer.

'Hecla's having the same trouble, Nat,' Rogers muttered consolingly.

'That's bloody cold comfort!' snapped Drinkwater, suddenly venomous. Were they to go aground ignominiously after all their tribulations? He snapped the compass vanes shut and pocketted the little instrument.

'Set all sail, Mr Rogers, and lively about it!'

Rogers did not even bother to acknowledge the order. 'Tops there! Aloft and shake out the t'gallants! Fo'c's'le! Hoist both jibs…'

Easton had jumped down into the waist and was chivvying the waisters onto the topgallant halliards.

'Get those fucking lobsters to tail on, Easton. You there! Aloft and let fall the main course…'

The loose canvas flopped downwards, billowed and filled. Virago heeled a little more. Here and there a knife flashed to cut a kink jammed in a sheave but the constant days of battling with gales, of making and reducing sail now brought its own dividends and the Viragos caught something of the urgency of the hour.

The bomb vessel increased her speed, leaning to leeward with the water foaming along her side.

'Up helm and ease her a point.' Drinkwater had not taken his eyes off Cruizer's stern. Suddenly the men looked up from coiling the ropes to see the brig's stern very close as they sped past, with a row of faces watching the old bomb vessel going into action.

Brisbane raised his hat, 'Tally ho, Drinkwater, by God! Tally ho and mind the mud!'

Drinkwater felt the thrill of exhilaration turn to that of fear as the deck heaved beneath his feet.

'God damn and blast it!' screamed Rogers, beside himself with angry frustration, but suddenly they were free and a ragged cheer broke from those who realised that for an instant their keel had struck the Middle Ground.

In a moment they could bear up for the battle…

'Larboard bow, sir!' Drinkwater looked up. Coming round Cruizer's bow was Explosion, just swinging before the wind to make her own approach to her station. Drinkwater could not luff without colliding or losing control of Virago, neither dare he bear away for a little longer since Russell was indicating the bank dangerously close to his starboard side. He resolved to stand on, aware that Martin was screeching something at him through a trumpet.

'Damn Captain Martin,' he muttered to himself, but a chorus of 'Hear, hear!' from Rogers and Easton indicated the extent of his concentration. Martin was compelled to let fly his sheets to check Explosion's headway.

'Up helm, Tregembo… reduce sail again!'

Astern Martin was still shouting as Explosion, closely followed by Volcano, Terror and Discovery weathered the Cruizer and the Middle Ground.

'For what we are about to receive, may we be truly… Jesus!' A storm of shot swept Virago's deck. They had left astern Désirée, anchored athwart the Danish line with a spring straining on her cable, and Polyphemus was drawing onto the larboard quarter. She too was anchored, though by the stern. As Virago crossed the gap between Polyphemus and the next anchored ship, the Isis, a broadside from Provesteenen hit her, cutting up the rigging and sails and wounding the foremast. On their own starboard side they had already passed Russell, flying the signal for distress and with flat-boats heaving out cables from her bow and stern while cannon shot dropped all round them. As they passed Bellona a terrific bang occurred and screams rent the air.

Beside Drinkwater Lieutenant Tumilty wore a seraphic smile. 'Gun exploded,' he explained for the benefit of anyone interested. Bellona's guns were returning the Danish fire and Drinkwater looked ahead. From this close range the enemy defences took on a different aspect. From a distance the exiguous collection of prames, radeaus, cut down battleships, floating batteries, transports and frigates had had a cheap, thread-bare look about them, compared with the formal naval might of Great Britain with its canvas, bunting and wooden walls. But from the southern end of the King's Deep it looked altogether different. Already Bellona and Russell were of little use, although both returned fire and strove throughout the day to get afloat again. Against the remaining ships the massed cannon of the Danish defences looked formidable. Spitting fire and smoke, the blazing tiers of guns were the most awesome sight Drinkwater had