HMS Aurora: A Charles Mullins Novel (Sea Command Book 3) (13 page)

“There you have me Colonel. I would know nothing about him except what he says. I can assure you he was a passenger on a Danish ship sailing from a Prussian port, and like the other officers he has dwelt with in our wardroom, has already given his parole. Perhaps it would be well if you discussed this matter with some of the other officers who were taken shortly after him. They have lived with him and presumably would know him better than you or I.”

Barely within gun range of an enemy battery on Christiansø, a shore gun barked its warning. Mullins ordered a white flag shown and the captain’s gig was manned. Colonel Montcalm took his place in the sternsheets with Lieutenant Hardinger, and the boat proceeded to shore to discuss the exchange with the officials on shore.

When the boat returned, Montcalm reported all of the details of the prisoner return were to be as previously discussed. All prisoners would remain on parole until such time as both sides agreed an exchange had been made.

For the actual transfer of prisoners into French custody, the gig was hoisted aboard and the launch lowered. Two trips would be necessary to take all of the people ashore. Colonel Montcalm remained on Aurora’s quarterdeck until the last load was ready to cast off. Before descending into the boat, he assured Mullins he would instruct the battery to hold its fire for half an hour, after the boat cast off from the pier.

After returning from its mission, the launch was placed in tow behind the ship and Mister Hardinger and Midshipman Adolphus, who had also accompanied the returning prisoners to shore were called aft to the quarterdeck. Hardinger had little to say, but Mullins was interested in the mid’s account. Adolphus was perfectly fluent in French, but had not used that language around the prisoners. He had shifted around in the boat, correcting the oarsmen and giving instructions, seemingly ignoring the enemy officers he was taking to shore.

Now, Mullins wanted to learn what these people had discussed on the way to shore.

Adolphus reported one of the main items of conversation was the absolute desolation of the island. They wondered how long they would be stranded there. Another topic on the last boat trip to the island was Dooley. He had accompanied the prisoners he had been living with in the wardrooms of St. George and Aurora for so long. The passengers of this second trip were those prisoners who had just been captured a few days before.

There seemed to be three main theories. A few returnees were sure he was a British plant. He spoke French with a slight British accent, and seemed to know little about present day-to-day life in France.

Another group was certain he was exactly what he said he was, an Irish renegade who had deserted the Royal Navy to take service with the French Army. The final group, the smallest, cared little about him. They were just concerned about returning to Metropolitan France.

For two days, Aurora cruised around the island, sometimes stretching over to Bornholm itself. Her watch officer tried to keep her out of sight from any observers on shore, although there were plenty of fishing boats to report their presence.

On the third day, while approaching Christiansø in a stiff westerly breeze, the lookout spotted a lugger on a broad reach sailing toward Bornholm. The tall sloop-of-war was able to close the small craft rapidly and she came into Aurora’s lee early in the afternoon watch.

It was a civilian craft, crewed by Danish fishermen, but carried some passengers, two of whom Mullins knew well. Colonel Montcalm was aboard, as well as Dooley, still wearing the uniform of the 9
th
Regiment of Light Infantry. Dooley appeared to be a prisoner. While not in any type of restraints, he had an empty sword scabbard, and four Infantry privates surrounded him.

Mullins invited the colonel aboard for a glass of wine in his cabin. Montcalm shuddered at the remembrance of the last wine he had been served aboard this ship, horrible fluid. However, curious at what might be happening, he boarded the ship.

After pouring the wine, Mullins toasted the colonel and said he had to thank him for doing his own job for him.

His eyebrows lifted, Montcalm awaited an explanation.

Mullins went on. “During his stay on our ship, a few of our people were suspicious of Vernier, as he called himself. Some thought he had a bit of an Irish accent, and might be a fugitive Irishman. I felt restrained from taking action against him, since he was seemingly a French prisoner of war. Any action taken against the man could be visited against a British prisoner in French hands. This of course, was something I was not prepared to do.”

“However, on the return of your people to Christiansø Island, one of my midshipmen accompanied both boatloads of returnees to shore. This midshipman speaks French fluently, although he tries not to make it evident.”

“During both trips to shore, some of your men, knowing they would soon be free, spoke in an unguarded manner. Dooley/Vernier was the subject of several conversations. Some of your officers were certain he was an Irishmen named Dooley, a deserter from the Royal Navy and participant in revolutionary activity onshore in Ireland. Dooley has been tried in absentia and convicted. All British commanders have orders to arrest Dooley and execute his death sentence.”

Colonel Montcalm was stunned. “You cannot just execute a man on evidence like this. It would be inhuman.”

Mullins answered, “I can and I will, Colonel. I will not be holding your or your people. I already have your parole and have no extra space on my ship to take your private soldiers. Therefore, as soon as you appear on deck, you and the others, with the exception of Dooley, will go aboard your lugger and proceed on your way. Dooley, of course, will have his appointment with the hangman.”

It was a concerned looking Irishman who stood next to the line hanging from the mainyard, and listened to the harangue the captain was voicing. The ship’s crew were very interested, a hanging was an unusual entertainment, and the men were just glad it was not to be one of their own.

Dooley had been prepared in an unusual manner. A sturdy board had been bound to his body and the line passed through a hole bored in the top of the board. There was not a whisper as all the binding were checked. This was to be the most unusual hanging any crew members had ever witnessed.

Some suspicions were generated when the bosun put a harness on the victim that he had made himself. It appeared this harness would bear the weight of the victim, but what could be the purpose of this charade?

By now, the lugger bearing the French colonel was at a sufficient distance to prohibit a close view of any activity on the warship’s deck. Deciding to assuage Dooley’s anxiety, Mullins spoke to him in a low voice.

“Dooley, the line from the yardarm will pass through a hole in the board we have strapped to your back. The harness the bosun just put on you will bear your weight. To the Frenchmen aboard the lugger, it will appear that you are in fact, being hung, as we hoist you up. There will be no noose around your neck to trouble you and you will be as safe as if you were in church. It will preserve appearances if you give a little demonstration as we hoist you up. You may want to kick and struggle when you go off the deck.”

The seamen on the line walked off with it, and Dooley, kicking and twisting, rose off the deck. As time went by, his struggles lessened then stopped. The seamen aboard Aurora, as well as those passengers and crew in the distant lugger, were fascinated. At length, the now still figure was lowered to the deck. Out of sight now to the spectators in the lugger, Dooley was freed from his bonds and led down a hatch. A roll of old canvas was wrapped in a hammock, weighted with a nine-pounder ball, then dropped overboard, still in sight of their audience.

When the sentry announced his new visitor, Mullins removed his feet from his desktop and shouted, “Come in!”

Mister Dooley stepped through the door, the customary grin still on his face, “Did we fool them, Captain?”

“You might be the best judge of that, Mister Dooley. What were they saying when you were in their hands?”

Dooley thought, “Most of them, I think, believed me to be a dedicated Irish revolutionary, hoping to evict British troops from my homeland. A few thought I was a British spy, hoping to learn secrets of the French defensive positions to take back to England. Colonel Montcalm, I believe, was of the first opinion, originally. After I showed him my document signed by the First Consul though, he changed course and behaved as though I was the spy some of his fellow officers thought.”

“I was being taken back to France to be questioned more closely when you intervened. It is my opinion that Colonel Montcalm was already aware of the document from other sources, and was attempting to prevent its further distribution. From what I have learned, many of the higher-ranking officers in the French service are afraid peace will indeed come and are desperately hoping to prevent that from happening.”

Mullins wondered, “Did we accomplish anything worthwhile with your adventure?”

“Sir, I believe we fooled the French. My hanging in their presence should have removed any doubt in their minds that I was anything but what I assured them I was. I think the word of the First Consul’s document has now leaked out to lower echelons of the French military, who are almost unanimous in approving of peace talks. Whether that word will spread, is anyone’s guess. If the commander of this district is wise, he will leave this detachment isolated on Christiansø Island, where its message may be kept from spreading.”

HMS Aurora left the Bornholm island area and proceeded to Copenhagen where her captain found the vast fleet gone. A single patrolling frigate gave him the news a great battle had been fought and the Danish fleet defeated. Admiral Parker had been called home and Vice-Admiral Nelson was on passage to Reval with the remainder of the fleet.

It was mid-May when Aurora reached the Russian port of Reval. The ice in the northern Baltic had since melted, and the Russian fleet was freed. However, Czar Paul of Russia had been assassinated and Alexander now ruled. Having differing idea from his father, the League of Armed Neutrality was now dead and the reason for this conflict had died with the former czar.

Soon after arriving at Reval, Mullins was called aboard the flag with Dooley and learned the remnants of the Baltic Fleet would be soon sailing for home. All except HMS Aurora, that is. Nelson had read through Mullins’ accounts and was appreciative of the results of his mission.

“From sources within the enemy lines, it would appear the French now firmly believe our Mister Dooley was a fervent French supporter and not a British agent as some of them seemed to formerly believe. Your theatrical scene where you hung him seems to have fooled them completely. The problem now appears to prevent the true facts from escaping out into the public.”

“You may return to your ship now Captain, with my thanks. You will soon be told where we will be sending you to slow down any possible release of information. Mister Dooley will remain here on the flag.”

Mullins addressed his commander, “Admiral Nelson, the senior French officers we dealt with feared peace, believing success there would negate the gains they have made since the beginning of the war. I know many of our own officials also dislike potential peace talks. I do not understand the reasoning there.

“Captain, our prime minister is the person to ask about this. Mister Pitt is vehemently opposed to peace with Bonaparte. He feels, as do I, that the First Consul cannot be trusted. We believe, before the ink has dried on the peace treaty, out civilian masters will immediately begin to bring our Navy back to a very small peacetime level.”

“Bonaparte, on the other hand, does not need to listen to civilian voices to determine the size of his own forces. With the advent of peace, I feel it likely France will go on an ambitious building to bring the French Navy to a standard similar to ours. Pitt understands this and will fight any attempt to allow the French this opportunity.”

Mullins tried again. “I have heard there is danger of Pitt stepping down and Addington taking over as prime minister.

Admiral Nelson replied. “Pitt has a weak spot. He is determined to solve the Irish problem. He feels Irish emancipation would bring peace to Ireland if all of its people were free to worship in their own manner and have all of the rights of other Englishmen.”

“Unfortunately, our King George does not agree. He feels his position as head of the Church of England compels him to require all Irish to maintain communion with the Church of England if they wish to have the rights of free Englishmen. This is causing a tremendous amount of pressure in Parliament, and I, for one, have no idea of how it will progress. There is talk of Pitt stepping down if his wishes are not granted, and Addington is indeed a likely choice to step into his place.”

“I do not think it likely Addington will be as forceful as Pit in the continuation of this war. Time will tell, however. In the meantime, I have given you all the time I possibly can. The ship’s first officer will see you into your boat.”

Aboard Aurora, every hand with a reason for his presence on the quarterdeck vainly attempted to overhear any conversation between the captain and the first officer, who welcomed him aboard. Knowing the men’s anxiety to learn of their next destination, he called the hands aft and assured them he had no more idea of where they were going than they did.

Taking Lieutenant Hardinger into his cabin, he amplified. “The admiral does not wish word of Mister Dooley’s escape from the gallows to become general knowledge. This requires the ship to proceed to some destination where such word cannot reach England or indeed Europe in a timely manner. I have no idea of which destination may be selected for us. I will ask you to do what you can to stop speculation in this matter.”

In the succeeding days, the rest of the ships were seen to be preparing to sail, with boats and lighters bringing stores to the individual ships. All of them except Aurora. One morning, a boat hooked on and a note handed up. The midshipman in the boat sternly admonished any boat crew who attempted to converse with hands on Aurora.

The note, handed to the captain, required a report on stores needed for a three month voyage out of sight of land. A prompt answer was expected aboard the flag. No conversation would be permitted between boat crew and ship’s crew.

In due course, supplies from the ships of the fleet began arriving. Some of these were old stock, well past their prime. Some of the casks of salt beef were years old. Irate, Mullins went aboard the flag to bring the matter to the attention of Admiral Nelson, but was told that worthy was not available. The flag captain assured him their own hands had, until recently, been subsisting on these same rations, and so, he believed, could the crew of Aurora.

The fleet sailed together and remained in company until passing the Skaw, but once out in the North Sea, Aurora left the fleet and went her own way. Before leaving, supplemental orders were sent to them sending the ship to Cape Colony in South Africa. This, Mullins imagined, would keep them away from England for a year or more. What he should tell Doris was a puzzle. By his own estimation, the baby should be arriving any week now, and he had hoped to be there in time to marry her before the event.

Shortly after, Aurora met an American schooner, on a course for the Channel, that was flying the flag ‘Request Assistance’. Mullins was under orders to speak no other ships except in emergency, but this could be construed as such.

Closing the schooner, he ordered Hardinger to ensure no member of the crew should attempt to pass news to the American. With the aid of his speaking trumpet, he learned the schooner’s master had passed away suddenly the previous evening, and the first mate was not too sure of his position. He admitted his previous experience in navigation had been by chart, dead reckoning and lead line in American coastal waters. This blue water sailing in strange waters was beyond his experience.

Mullins shouted over the position and having learned the schooner was bound for Plymouth, gave him the proper instructions to make that port. The schooner’s new master asked if he could take any mail to England for them. With some thought, Mullins asked the American to stand by a few moments. There were some letters in the mail bag ready for the post, but it had not been anticipated any could be mailed, because of the prohibition to return to port or speak any vessel.

Because of the present situation, Mullins believed he could give these letters to the American to take into Plymouth, without compromising security. First, he delegated Hardinger and Adolphus to open all the letters and obliterate any mention of their mission in the Baltic or the drama with Mister Dooley.

The letters were quickly opened and found most of them did have more or less accurate details of the latter incident. These were burned, and the few remaining dropped in the mail bag. He borrowed a quill and paper from his clerk and dashed off a few lines to Doris. He informed her that they were on their way to Southern Africa and he knew of no way he could be in England before at least a year had passed.

He told her he was under orders to touch no land before reaching their destination, but did not know if he could legitimately obey those instructions. He told her many of their provisions were bad, and he might have to touch in the Madeira’s to resupply. Assuring Doris he would return as soon as he possibly could, he enclosed another note-of-hand and sealed the letter before dropping it into the nearly empty mail bag.

There was some muttering from the crew as the bag was passed aboard the schooner by way of a messenger line, and the two vessels departed. He attempted to mollify the hands by assuring them he would forward their own letters as soon as he possibly could, warning that any mention of their Baltic mission or of Mister Dooley, would be cause for that letter to be destroyed.