‘We have a ship ready to sail, sir,’ the boy repeated.
Rod read the message again, in total mystification, then he handed it to Marguerite. Who scanned it, and stared at him. As she did so, a huge tear rolled down her cheek.
Chapter Ten: England and the Oceans — 1862-63
NASSAU, the capital city of the Bahamas, had been a pirate headquarters before it had become a British colony, a hundred and fifty years before. As such it had been the target of the first ever United States naval success, when it had been taken, briefly, by an American squadron under Commodore Ezek Hopkins in 1776 — a squadron which had included Fighting Harry McGann, Jerry’s great-grandfather, in its ranks.
Following the American success in securing their independence, the Bahamas had become a haven for loyalists seeking new homes — many had brought both their slaves and their cotton growing techniques with them. But since Emancipation in 1834, the Bahamas, like most of the British West Indies, had sunk into sunny decrepitude, the once-rich plantations neglected. Rod had visited Nassau on board HMSSplendid during his term of duty in the Caribbean, and had thought nothing of it.
Thus the transformation which met his gaze was the more amazing when the blockade runner on which he had taken passage steamed into the harbour. Nassau Harbour was actually one of the finest in the West Indies, almost completely landlocked by the presence of Hog Island lying parallel to the main island of New Providence at a distance of about a mile, and guarded by shoals at either end which required careful navigating and kept out the worst of the seas. It had been the only aspect of the place to impress him, and it had seemed the more unfortunate that it should have been so totally abandoned, with only a couple of wooden fishing vessels to be seen. Now it was crowded, with shipping of every possible description, from three-masted sailing barques, through sleek, shallow-drafted brigantines and rakish schooners, to steamers, and these too represented every variety, side wheelers, stern wheelers, and screws. The vessels flew a variety of flags, having assembled from every maritime nation in the world, as Nassau had become the principle entrepot for goods on their way from Europe to the seaports of Wilmington, Savannah, and Charleston, and in a lesser degree, Mobile and, once, New Orleans. Their crews were tough, capable men, who knew that they would receive scant mercy from the Federal blockade, were they to be captured. They were also immensely wealthy, for the Confederates were being made to pay through the nose for every rifle and every cartridge they received. Thus ashore, Nassau had blossomed even more than on the water. The ramshackle wooden buildings were being repainted, workmen were actually laying gas conduits in the streets to give a midnight lighting not yet available in London, and others were at work on a huge hotel, rising above the town on the ridge behind Shirley Street, which had already been named after the British queen, Victoria. The town also crawled with prostitutes of every shape and colour, all anxious to relieve the sailors of some of their recently acquired wealth, and most doing very well at it — Rod found two dusky beauties attached to his arm the moment he stepped ashore.
But, even had he not been in great haste to attend the office of the Confederate agent, they would have failed to arouse his interest. If he had never had the slightest hesitation in leaving Mobile, for having lost everything, even his honour, he had only his duty on which to fall back, he would still never forget Marguerite’s face as they had said goodbye, or the tears which had streamed down those beautiful cheeks. He had not even wasted the time saying goodbye to Claudine, or Antoinette, had encountered Wilbur on the dock and told him that he had been posted at sea and was leaving immediately. His father-in-law had expressed regret, but it had been mingled with a certain amount of relief; he was not as short sighted as he sometimes appeared.
Then there had been the excitement of running the blockade once again, this time at the dead of night, stealing past Dauphin Island and Mobile Point to gain the open sea, before altering course for the Florida Keys and the Bahamas. All the way there had been Federal gunboats to be considered, hardly time for a man to think. Yet there had still been too much time. Marguerite, and all she meant to him. Jerry, and all he still meant to him. Little Joe ... and the future. If there was to be a future.
And above all, the looming excitement of a special, secret service, to be carried out for the Confederacy. For a doomed cause. He had never doubted that from the moment theVirginiahad steamed sadly away from theMonitor in Hampton Roads. Yet he could not now conceive of any other flag under which to serve.
And at least he and Marguerite had had three unforgettable nights together, whatever the future held.
*
In the first instance, and to his great pleasure, the future held a reunion with Raphael Semmes. ‘Rod,’ Semmes clasped his hand. ‘I asked for you, especially, and Mallory said he did not know where you were. Thank God they found you. You are to sail with me again.’
‘From here?’ Rod could hardly believe his good fortune, as he shook hands with John Kell.
‘No, unfortunately. And there will be serious problems to overcome before we can put to sea. But that is why I sent for you. You are the one man who can solve these problems for us. Have you ever met Commander James Bulloch, Confederate States Navy?’
Rod shook his head. ‘I have heard the name.’
‘Well, he and James North have been Stephen Mallory’s agents in Europe for the past year, seeking the building and delivery of ironclads, and commerce destroyers, for the Confederate fleet. By all accounts, North has so far accomplished little, but Bulloch has commissioned two ironclads from a Liverpool shipyard.’
‘But that is great news,’ Rod cried. ‘And we are to take possession of one?’
‘Alas, no,’ Semmes confessed. ‘They are still some way from completion, and frankly, I do not know if we shall ever possess them. They come too close to transgressing the laws of neutrality, to which Great Britain is apparently determined to adhere. The same laws are also hindering the delivery of the commerce destroyer that Bulloch has designed, and has also commissioned in Liverpool. As you may imagine, the Federal Minister to England, Charles Adams, and all his people, are badgering the British government to impound the vessels, claiming that to release them would be a clear breach of neutrality. And the British are wavering. The law, as you probably know, states that where a ship is obviously for use as a warship, then it should not be built or sold to one of the belligerent parties. In the case of the ironclads, the Laird rams as they have come to be called, Laird being the name of the yard building them, they are so obviously designed as warships I doubt we shall ever obtain them. The commerce raider is a different matter. She is a fast steam barque, and she is quite unarmed. And within a few weeks she will be ready for delivery. I am to have command of her, supposing I can ever get my hands on her.’
‘I assumed nothing less,’ Rod agreed. ‘But ... quite unarmed?’
‘We have done a deal with Portugal,’ Semmes said. ‘If the ship can reach the Azores, and rendezvous with another ship carrying arms and ammunition, we may complete the fitting out and arming of the raider there. I am leaving for the Azores immediately, together with John, of course, to await the arrival of the ship. The rest of the crew, every man, like yourself, Rod, handpicked, are also on their way. All we need now is the ship. And that is a problem. The Federal spies in England are keeping a close watch on every Confederate officer, everyone who evenlooks like a Confederate officer, who lands in Great Britain. They are just waiting for one of them to attempt to take command of the ship, and they will immediately represent to the British Government that she can only be intended as a war vessel.’
‘Ah,’ Rod said. ‘I begin to get your drift.’
‘It has to be you, Rod, a cashiered Royal Navy officer, obviously English in every way, from your accent to your clothes. You will say that you have been employed by the vessel’s owners to take possession of her, and to commence trade with Havana. You will take her to sea under the British flag, and in total legality. Once at sea, of
course, you will alter course for the Azores. Your crew, who you will sign on for the Havana voyage and back to Liverpool, will be repatriated from Portugal; they are not to know your real purpose.’
Rod nodded. He would be commanding a ship again, however briefly.
‘You will contact Bulloch the moment you reach Liverpool, and leave it to him to make all the necessary arrangements. Understood?’
Again Rod nodded. ‘But isn’t Bulloch known to be a Confederate agent?’
‘Indeed he is. Which is why he cannot take command of the ship himself. Oh, the Federals may huff and puff all they want, but until they can track down the real owners of the vessel, with a Britisher in command they still won’t have a case to present to the British Government. Will you do it?”
Rod clasped his hand. ‘If I can sail with you.’
‘You are already signed on. For the cruise of a lifetime, Rod. According to Bulloch, this ship will keep the sea for two years. You will be my second officer, as it was on theSumter.’
‘Then expect me in the Azores,’ Rod promised. ‘I will bring your ship to you.’
*
Here at last was a challenge which could consume his entire purpose, perhaps even drive the image of Marguerite from his mind. Because here he was taking on the world, as he had felt he was doing ever since his court martial — but now to a purpose.
If it could be realised. A passage to Liverpool was no problem; ships left Nassau almost every day for England, there to stock up on the essentials for which the Confederacy would pay so well. Throughout the voyage his excitement grew, not least because it was more than five years since he had last left England, and a remarkable five years they had been. To be returning, even briefly and clandestinely ... surely he would be able to fit in a quick trip down to Somerset, to see his father, perhaps for a last time — and reassure him that he was at last doing something worthwhile with his life. By becoming a pirate in a lost cause? How that growing realisation tempered his enthusiasm.
It was not possible to visit Somerset, for in Liverpool he was required to report immediately to James Dunwoody Bulloch, Commander, Confederate States Navy. Born in Savannah, James Bulloch was a Confederate to his toes. His family now lived outside Atlanta, where his half-sister had married a certain Theodore Roosevelt, and had indeed had a son only four years before, who was also named Theodore, junior, or Teddy by the family, a boy of whom James Bulloch was inordinately proud. He himself had had little time for wives and families of his own, pursuing as he had done a mostly uneventful career with the Federal Navy, which had changed course abruptly, as it had done for so many others, with the bombardment of Fort Sumter. Appointed almost immediately by Secretary Mallory to secure the ships the Confederacy so badly needed from the British and the French, he had now been in England for several months, and during that time, by his extraordinary energy, had commissioned the building of some four vessels, all the time with Federal agents breathing down his neck, and with sequestration orders hanging over his head.
His pride and joy was the commerce destroyer he had designed himself, and for which he had designated the name, CSSAlabama. Into her he had put all the many ideas he had accumulated during his years at sea, the outstanding device being a ‘lifting screw’, which meant that the curse of steam barques, the drag caused by the propellor when under sail, was obviated by being able to lift the screw clear of the water, to enable her to handle like a true sailing ship, and then drop it back into position when it became advantageous, or necessary, to manoeuvre under power.
It had originally been intended, at least as far as Bulloch himself was concerned, that he should command theAlabamawhen she finally got to sea. There had been some confusion over this in his correspondence with Secretary Mallory, and it was Rod’s unhappy duty to deliver to him the letter finally appointing Semmes to the ship. Bulloch took the disappointment like the professional seaman he was, shrugged his shoulders, and acknowledged the Secretary’s remarks that he was doing far too valuable a job on the designing and commissioning of ships to be sent to sea. ‘Man proposes, and the Navy Secretary disposes,’ he said equably. ‘But now it is a question of getting the ship to the Azores, just as rapidly as possible. Or at any rate, out of England. I must tell you, Mr Bascom, that there is a court case going on at this moment, regarding another ship, one I purchased and converted, rather than built, named theAlexandra. Informed legal opinion is that the British Government, which is bringing the case — at the instigation of the Federal Minister here — has not a leg to stand on, and that theAlexandra, far from being sequestrated, will be allowed to sail. However, I am not at all sure that, should that happen, the British Government may not alter the law to make it more difficult for potential commerce destroyers to slip through the net. There is no doubt that the British on the whole are far less pro-South than is supposed in Richmond. The success of theSumter has powerfully offended public opinion here, as being licensed piracy. Mr Lincoln’s threats to proclaim an emancipation of the slaves has attracted the liberal sentiment, and most important of all, now that the mills are obtaining raw cotton from Egypt and India, cheaper than they ever did from Virginia or Georgia, there are not even any financial incentives to support the Confederacy. In a word, the British are convinced that the Union will win the war, and are anxious not to be found supporting the wrong side.’
‘And they are absolutely right,’ Rod said.
Bulloch peered at him down his long nose. ‘I find that unduly pessimistic,’ he remarked. ‘And from an officer about to be charged with a difficult and dangerous assignment, downright disturbing. Maybe you have not heard that General McClellan has been repulsed from before Richmond by General Lee. The news arrived a week ago.’
‘I had not heard that. And I think it is splendid. But the Federals will come again and again. Don’t misunderstand me, sir. The Confederacy is my cause, and I will never desert it. But I have seen too much of Union strength, where it is exerted to its fullest extent and with proper determination. I would estimate that only your ironclads, by destroying or dispersing the Federal fleet and ending the blockade, can now possibly save the day.’
‘My ironclads,’ Bulloch said sadly. ‘There is little hope for them, I am afraid, no matter even if we win theAlexandracase. They are too clearly warships. I commissioned them in the belief, encouraged by Richmond, that the British Government, both from dislike of the Yankees and from their interest in obtaining our cotton, would bend the neutrality laws to help us. Now that is proving not to be the case ... I am negotiating with the French, and may obtain some success there. But right now, we must salvage what we can from the mess. And our best hope is theAlabama, which is completed and ready to sail — supposing we can ever get her down the Mersey. I am of course persisting in the subterfuge that she is being bought for unnamed owners — which is perfectly usual — for trade with Havana, Cuba, and that she will operate with an English captain, yourself, and an English crew, and that there is absolutely no evidence that she has been designed for any warlike purpose whatsoever. But there are not only federal agents crawling all over Liverpool, watching both the ship and myself, and you now, as well, you can be certain of that, but I happen to know there are British Government agents as well. The two sides are in cahoots, Mr Bascom, and I have no doubt at all that the moment the ship has completed her sea trials and is handed over to me, some excuse will be found for holding her in port, probably until the outcome of theAlexandracase is known. To cap it all, even if she were to be released, I have been further informed that the Federal Government has sent a frigate across the Atlantic, the USSTuscaloosa, expressly to stop us the moment we get the ship at sea. I feel we are totally hedged in.’
Rod scratched his head, thoughtfully. ‘But do you mean you have not yet taken delivery of the vessel?’
‘No, there are still sea trials to be completed. These are due next week.’
‘Then we have the answer to our problem,’ Rod said.
Bulloch frowned at him. �
�That will be illegal. Piracy, almost.’
‘We are fighting a war, Mr Bulloch,’ Rod said. “All’s fair in love and war, they say.’
‘I hope you are proved right, Mr Bascom. And theTuscaloosa?’
‘She has to find us, and then catch us, Commander Bulloch. Have I your permission to proceed?’
Bulloch smiled. ‘You have my permission to assist me in my purpose, Mr Bascom. I would not miss this for the world.’
*
‘Welcome, Mr Blaine,’ said Mr Cartwright, the shipping yard’s agent, having been introduced to Rod under his assumed name. ‘I trust you will find everything in order.’ Rod nodded as he was shown over the steam barque. She was, indeed, a very fine ship, even without the various design wrinkles inserted by Bulloch. A ship that would be a pleasure to command, however briefly, and in which it would be a pleasure to serve, under such a man as Semmes.
His excitement grew. Amongst the various people on the dock he had already identified two Federal agents, who had actually engaged him in conversation, being obviously disappointed to discover he was English and apparently disinterested in the war raging in America, and that there were also British Government agents about could hardly be doubted. But all he was apparently on board for were sea trials on behalf of the unknown owners, a matter of a few hours ... and a few minutes later the subterfuge was lent credence when Bulloch himself arrived, accompanied by several Liverpool civic dignitaries, whom he had ostentatiously invited for this morning’s outing. Rod was introduced as Captain Matthew Blaine, representing the owners, the engine was started, under the direction of a brusque Scotsman, Angus McNair, the flags were set — British flags — the people on the dock clapped and cheered, the Federal agents muttered together, and theEurica— the name under which the futureAlabama was known in Liverpool — slipped slowly down the Mersey River; no one doubted she would be back that evening.
Iron Ships, Iron Men Page 25