“You may well be right, Mr Mason. Even so, I would prefer that we should be able to use the whole of our armament at need. I cannot be happy with the idea that none of my officers is capable of attacking with torpedoes. They are very much the weapon of the future.”
“But not perhaps of the present, sir, not in Racoon.”
“So it would seem. I shall speak with Captain Roberts of Mountjoy, beg him to lend the services of one of his officers to assist in the training of Racoon’s people. Destroyers in the nature of things are competent with torpedoes.”
“I would venture to suggest, sir, that Racoon would show wholly competent in the use of torpedoes, sir. The mere fact that we have little expectation of using them does not mean that we cannot do so, sir.”
“Very good, Mr Mason. We shall exercise torpedoes later in the week.”
“We can hardly fire them, sir, not even with practice heads, not in the river.”
“Agreed, but we can usefully load the tube and swing out the torpedo carriages. It will be interesting and possibly instructive to see the crews at work.”
Magnus had a strong suspicion that there were no crews as such – probably a single skeleton crew had been named, and almost never worked up. The officers needed a boot where it would do some good, he suspected.
“When did we last exercise the main guns, Mr Mason?”
“Each gun is manned for an hour every day, sir. The Commissioned Gunner, sir, Mr Plumb, checks that all guns can be laid and gives the men exercises in setting the fuses as well.”
“Three-pounders?”
“Twice weekly, sir. They are regarded as less important, after all.”
“I see. What of the Maxims?”
“They were shipped in place of the Nordenfelts last year, sir. We have two men trained on them – they hardly require more and will never be used on both sides at once, after all.”
“Call Mr Plumb to join us, Mr Mason.”
“It seems likely, Mr Plumb that Racoon may be called to deal with a major uprising against the foreign concessions, on the lines of the Tai Pings of only a few years ago. We might find ourselves at close quarters with a mob of tens of thousands of men armed with various weapons and determined to break into the foreign towns and kill every man, woman and child they can lay their hands on. It might well be the case that Racoon would be firing onto the shore across her bows. That would likely give us four six inch, five three-pounders and both Maxims bearing. I would also want every spare hand to be on deck with a rifle. In effect, Mr Plumb, the stokers and the engineers on watch would be the sole men other than myself not to be firing a weapon. Is Racoon organised to meet this demand, sir?”
“Partly, yes, sir. In the highly unlikely event of such an uprising, sir, I have no doubt that Racoon will do her duty, sir.”
“How many rounds of shrapnel have we for each gun, Mr Plumb?”
“Action at sea, sir, demands High Explosive ordnance.”
“I am aware of that, Mr Plumb. The Yangtse Kiang is many things, but it is not the ocean, Mr Plumb. How many rounds of shrapnel have we aboard?”
“Twelve six inch, and eight of three-pound, sir.”
“To each gun?”
“In total, sir.”
“What is the allocation for each gun?”
“Eighty rounds of six inch, sir. One hundred and twenty of three pound.”
“When we are next at the powder hulk, Mr Plumb, you will ensure that for each gun there are sixty of six inch and one hundred of three pound shrapnel. I presume we can replenish at Shanghai?”
“Yes, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but we will not have room in the magazines for the extras, sir.”
“Then you will land the redundant HE, Mr Plumb. That is an order, sir, and will be given you in writing. You will confirm your compliance, also in writing, Mr Plumb.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Plumb considered the order to be both ridiculous and dangerous – shrapnel was for the soldiers. The Navy did not concern itself with killing people; its job was to sink ships, exclusively. He would mention the captain’s ludicrous quirk to the Senior Naval Officer when he was next ashore in Shanghai, or in Hong Kong – he owed a duty of loyalty to the best traditions of the Navy, that he was certain of.
“Ask the Paymaster to come to me, Mr Plumb.”
The Paymaster was a lieutenant, successor to the old pursers of earlier times. He was a naval officer rather than a quasi-civilian as the pursers had been and performed a number of duties in addition to theirs. Mr Eccles had entered Dartmouth in the expectation of a distinguished career, as had many of his family in years before, and had joined the Paymaster branch only on discovering that he was effectively colour blind and could not distinguish lights at night; a deck officer who could not tell port from starboard running lights was a menace to his ship. He would not make a career of the Navy, being unable ever to command his own ship. Magnus was aware that Eccles had relatives who would ensure his early promotion to Commander and then find him a post of some distinction on shore on his immediate resignation from the Navy. A record of naval service would be very useful to a young Member of Parliament, or to a senior functionary in the Diplomatic Service, as an example.
“Take a seat, Lieutenant Eccles. How does Racoon stand for aid to civilians on shore, Mr Eccles? Have we provisions for them? Can we take a mass of refugees aboard for the run down to Shanghai?”
“No, sir. Our function would be to escort the steamers and junks and lorchas carrying them, not to take them aboard ourselves, sir. As for provisions, sir – they would have to eat standard rations, sir. Bully beef, primarily. We do have tins of condensed milk, sir, and sacks of rice in addition to our normal stores, and the galley might be able to produce a few loaves of bread, though not many. Not our job to feed refugees, sir.”
“Additional blankets and bedding?”
“Oh, no, sir – not our business at all, sir. No place for them to sleep in any case, sir.”
“There is an expanse of deck, I believe.”
“Yes, sir. But it is not the place for refugees, sir. In any case, sir – who would these refugees be? Not many white men and women to rescue along these shores, sir.”
Magnus tried to keep his temper, to avoid showing the increasing irritation he was feeling.
“I believe there are some hundreds of missionaries along the rivers, Mr Eccles. Many of them would try to make their way to Hankow, I understand. There would be some thousands of their converts as well; their lives would certainly be in danger.”
“Hardly our concern, sir, and we certainly would not want them dirtying up our decks. The missionaries perhaps – although too many of them are not the right sort of people at all, you know – but Chinks? No, sir, they can look after themselves, I think.”
“I shall speak to the admiral, Mr Eccles. It may be possible to authorise additional stores for the purpose of assisting the civilians if the need arises.”
“I cannot imagine such a need, sir. It might be the case that the missionaries might want us to hold their hands, but I do not believe we would find it desirable to do so.”
“Perhaps you should tell that to the admiral, Mr Eccles. He is very much of the opinion that the Navy must and shall come to the assistance of the distressed. Whitehall also has that expectation of us. This little squadron has been called into being primarily for that purpose. I shall have arrangements made for the reception of civilians in need of succour, Mr Eccles. That will be a part of your responsibilities, sir.”
Mr Eccles was still not quite sure that the function was appropriate.
“I shall give you a written order, Mr Eccles.”
“If you must, sir, then you will no doubt do so. I will, naturally, respond with my reasons, sir, for protesting your order at higher level, sir.”
“You will stand in front of a court-martial if you do, Mr Eccles. If you wish to refuse your captain’s orders, then you must expect to pay the penalty. And, Mr Eccles, I am aware that that you ha
ve a maternal uncle who is a vice-admiral, that your father is a general, and that several cousins have connections at the highest level in Whitehall and in Parliament. I do not care, Mr Eccles, I do not give a damn! At worst, sir, your family may be able to destroy my career, but they will not prevent you being dismissed the Service, with the stigma that would carry throughout your life. You can cause me great annoyance, Mr Eccles, but I can ensure that you will never reach eminence in any field of the Public Service in the whole Empire!”
Eccles had never been challenged before and did not know how to respond. He realised that he was alone as well; relatives in London had great power there but could do very little aboard a ship on the Yangtse-Kiang.
“I can assure you of my loyalty, sir. I shall do my duty.”
“Excellent, Mr Eccles. On my ship, I define what is or is not your duty, sir. You will ensure that Racoon is capable of taking aboard and feeding and accommodating not fewer than, shall we say, three hundred refugees for the period of the voyage from Hankow to Shanghai.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Very good. Who is responsible for the Chinese boys we have aboard ship? Who maintains their discipline, if necessary?”
“Well… none of us, as such, sir. They look after themselves, sir. They know they must behave or they will be put ashore at the nearest convenient point. Our convenience, of course. They almost all come from Shanghai, so to be kicked ashore half way to Hankow would not be desirable for them.”
Magnus shook his head – it was no way to treat human beings, but it was very convenient – they would no doubt take great pains not to be dismissed in that fashion, for they would hardly survive as penniless strangers in a foreign part of the country.
Eccles returned to his own offices, sulky and wondering how best to get his own back, and Magnus stepped up to the conning tower on the quarterdeck. It was not, in his opinion, a true bridge, for being in the wrong place on the ship, but at least it had speaking tubes and a telegraph to the engine room. He inspected the squadron, in line astern – not perfect because of the river current and the need to avoid floating debris.
He stood silent for a few minutes, observing the ship and the visible men, the officer of the watch especially.
“Signal, sir, from Mutine. ‘Permission to set sail’, sir.”
Mutine had the weakest engines of the little squadron, was designed more as an auxiliary steamer and expected to use sail on any sea passage. She was slow under steam and had bunker capacity sufficient for a bare fifteen hundred miles at full power.
“Refused, Mr Mornington. Steam only on the river.”
The flags were hoisted and Mutine’s captain, who had expected assent, rapidly withdrew his orders, furled the sails that had been partially set and brought his men back to deck, knowing that he had been made to look foolish in front of his crew. He swore helplessly, having chosen not to coal ship in Shanghai, for not wanting the dirt and dust to show in front of the ladies there.
Magnus, who was aware that Mutine had not coaled, was waiting for the next signal.
“Mutine, sir, submit that bunkers may be inadequate for passage to Hankow, sir.”
“Mr Mornington, send the following to Mutine. ‘Distance Hankow six hundred miles. Your bunkers capable of fifteen hundred miles. Explain immediately why no coal.’ That should teach him not to bugger about in Shanghai.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
A couple of minutes and the reply came that Mutine had been unable to coal ship in Shanghai.
“’Explain inability’, Mr Mornington.”
“Signal acknowledged, sir.”
Magnus waited for an answer. After two minutes he turned to Mornington, deliberately showing him an angry, scowling face, knowing that his bad temper would be reported in the wardroom.
“Captain Mutine to repair aboard Racoon.”
Magnus knew that it would be no easy task to drop a longboat, the captain’s launch, and then row the two cables against the current and to catch up with Racoon, still steaming at five knots.
“Wait ten minutes, Mr Mornington, and then bring Racoon to, just holding against the current.”
The effect would be to announce to the squadron that Magnus was a hard taskmaster, would not accept any divagation from his orders and expectations.
“Captain Hartington to my cabin, when he finally arrives.”
The First Lieutenant appeared on deck to give Mutine’s captain his formal welcome aboard Racoon, and to emphasise that Magnus was not at the side to greet him. The visit was disciplinary, not social.
“Why, Captain Hartington, are you short of coal? I seem to remember signalling the squadron to coal ship as necessary.”
“I preferred to sail with half bunkers, sir – saving weight, you see, sir.”
“Remarkably foolish, Captain Hartington, knowing that we were on a river passage. One can hardly tack on the Yangtse, and wearing must be impossible. It will probably be necessary to tow Mutine if she runs out of coal – and that will delay the whole squadron.”
“Yes, sir. I have not previously attempted a river passage, sir.”
“Then one might have expected you to obey the spirit of my order, sir! You will have no occasion to set sail while you are part of the squadron and may therefore train all of your topmen to perform a useful function. You have ten of five-inch guns and ten of machine guns since re-gunning, though why the yard chose to mix Nordenfelts, Gardners and Maxims, I cannot imagine. I must say that I am surprised at just how heavy an armament was put aboard but welcome the power it brings. With the spare bodies you now have you will be able to man both broadsides. I presume your magazines at least are full?”
“I do not know that we have twenty gun layers, sir.”
“You do not? You might be very well advised to commence training of the necessary extra bodies, sir. I have every expectation of making use of the power of Mutine if need arises.”
“Both broadsides, sir?”
“Certainly, Captain Hartington. I can envisage mooring Mutine bows on to the bank of the river so that she can sweep both port and starboard along the shore. There may be a great uprising in China, and we will be expected to protect Shanghai from attack along the river. Should we need to defend Hankow, then we may very well find it wise to enter the lesser river and sweep both banks. I trust not to be let down by any of my ships, sir.”
“Mutine will do her duty, sir.”
“Good. I did not doubt that she would. Remain under steam until the bunkers are empty and then Racoon will take you under tow if the need arises. Do ensure that you coal ship in Hankow, Captain Hartington.”
He turned to his First Lieutenant, struck by a sudden qualm.
“Mr Mason, can we coal ship at Hankow?”
“Not normally, sir. There will be a sufficient stock for the sloop or gunboat stationed there, but no great surplus of steam coal. Other vessels are expected to coal at Shanghai, sir.”
“That is irritating. Captain Hartington, you must return to Shanghai to coal ship. You will rejoin the squadron at soonest.”
Hartington took his launch away and Mutine reversed course within minutes, disappearing from sight very quickly, the speed of the current added to her screw.
“Squadron to make three knots, Mr Mason. Mutine may rejoin prior to our reaching Hankow.”
“Senior Naval Officer Shanghai may be surprised to discover Mutine returning for coal, sir. She may have to wait a day or two to take her turn at the coaling berth, sir.”
Magnus appreciated for the first time that Captain Erskine’s hostility to him was a matter of public knowledge. His own people knew that there was a feud between them, and that it would lead to petty retaliation, unimportant in itself but nibbling away at the squadron’s efficiency. It mattered almost nothing in peaceful times, but to have a ship deliberately delayed when they were at war could cost lives. He realised as well that there was nothing to be done; unless and until Captain Erskine was posted away in the normal run of thi
ngs, the squadron would suffer from his malice. The fact that such malice was well-earned did not help matters – Admiral Seymour would not be inclined to assist after Magnus had gone to considerable lengths to create the problem he was now complaining about.
“Never wise to mock malicious little fat men, Mr Mason.”
“Or thin ones either, I suspect, sir.”
“Probably, Mr Mason. Not wise to mock at all, one might say… But it is such fun, you know!”
The First Lieutenant did not know – he was determined to prosper in his career and had not taken the risk of mocking any senior figure since first he had joined at Dartmouth.
“How is the ship for paint, Mr Mason? Is the locker full?”
“Within reason, yes, sir. A little short on soft soap, sir, for scrubbing the awnings. They do tend to show mildew in the conditions one experiences out here, sir, and need to be taken down for cleaning at remarkably frequent intervals. A pity, sir, for nothing shows so smart as sparkling white awnings over the decks. Necessary, too, sir, in the Chinese summer – the men will sunburn so easily.”
It was expected of a first lieutenant that he would dip his hand in his own pocket for the extras a ship needed. On a battleship the Commander, who was second senior to the captain, would commonly spend some hundreds of pounds of his own money each year to create a polished and painted ship, at least equal and preferably superior to the next in line of his squadron. Promotion depended to a very great extent on a smart ship and an officer who lived on his pay could not expect to progress far in peacetime – and the Navy had been at peace since the brief episode of the Crimea. An officer like Mason – who had an income of his own, but not large – might well find himself in debt as soon as he was promoted to any senior position.
Magnus was aware of the realities of life at sea and knew that Mason was hinting that soft soap must be purchased but that he could not do it. Unfortunately, Magnus had better things to do with his few pounds than spend them on soap. The awnings must continue to be scrubbed less frequently than was entirely desirable… unless Magnus was to make a rich marriage, in which case his ship would soon positively gleam in the summer sun.
02 Shanghai Dreams (The Earl’s Other Son #2) Page 2