Pistoleer: Invasion

by Smith, Skye

  They were just finishing their third complete circle, so perhaps sixty shots taken, when all of that changed. Daniel felt a coolness on his face. A breeze. The beginning of the morning's normal offshore breeze. It made him realize that the skies were no longer pitch black, but more of a dark grey. He yelled this news behind him to the bow watch of the Greyhound, and Wheeler ran forward to the bow to speak with him. "This must be our last circle,” Daniel called to him. "The morning is breaking and the morning breeze will blow the fog out to sea. When that happens we will lose our cloak and be naked to Dutch eyes."

  "One more then,” Wheeler called back in agreement.

  They were on the last half of that last circle and therefore moving south-east to eventually leave the harbour, when there came a thunder of a nearby broadside. Every man on both ships almost shit themselves thinking it was a Dutch broadside aimed at them, but no. It was the Rainbow which was moving out of the thinning fog to stand just on the other side of the jetty. Twenty or more great twenty-for pounder culverins fired as one, but their bar and chain shot did not hit the buildings that fronted the quays as the Greyhound's had done. The Rainbow was outside the jetty and at right angles to the quays, so its shot swept down the length of the front street along the quay and the back street behind the first row of buildings. Swept along taking with them everything in their way.

  "Row, row, row!” Daniel had been yelling all the time his voice had been hidden in the roar and echoes of the Rainbow's guns. It took the oarsmen a moment to clear the ringing thunder from their ears, but then they heard him and jostled each other, and laid their backs into the oars. The Swift strained on the tow lines, and the Greyhound picked up speed, but slowly. To the south of them outside the harbour, the fifteen ships of the Dutch convoy were no longer completely wrapped in the fog. Three hundred guns would now be lining up towards them..

  Wheeler was not a commander to sit idle while other men did his work for him. He yelled to his gunners to get into the rigging instead, and show every bit of sail duek they could. The breeze was offshore and getting stronger, and his ship's sails could damn well help the Swift's oarsmen in their work. Daniel's orders to hoist all three of the Swift's large triangle sails came at about the same time. Fifty sets of eyes on both ships stared hard at the suddenly visible Dutch convoy. Fifty mouths were ready to call out if there was a plume of gunsmoke from it. Still there was none.

  Rob walked past Daniel carrying an axe, and it wasn't until it was too late that Daniel realized what he was up to. He had axed the tow lines and set the Greyhound free, or rather, set the Swift free. Unencumbered, the Swift leaped forward away from the Greyhound, and Rob yelled at Daniel, "Turn her about. Tromp doesn't seem to care. Lets go test Tromp's resolve again so that Batten can know whether he can keep bombarding the town."

  "But the ruse is undone,” Daniel argued. "Tromp now knows that the lanterns he was seeing through the fog were from jolly boats. Look, see, the men are the jolly boats are rowing their hearts out to get back to the safety of the Batten's ships."

  "Tromp has not yet given us a single warning shot of the three he promised. Let's circle the harbour one more time and see if he complains. What have we got to lose?"

  "Our lives! My ship!' Daniel argued.

  "Danny, turn the bowchaser towards the chapel where the river enters the harbour,” Rob told him. "I'll go and load it with a ball."

  "Why?” Daniel yelled out to Rob's back.

  Rob turned on a heel and replied, "The bitch queen is a Catholic. Where do you think she would seek sanctuary? In a church, man, on her knees in a church. That chapel will have been Romanist for centuries.” Rob disappeared into the tiny fore cabin where the bowchaser was.

  The navy crew all stopped what they were doing and stared at each other in disbelief. What queen? Thee queen? Henrietta? Yes the chapel would be a Catholic woman's chosen sanctuary, but so it would be for many of the women and children of the town. Was Captain Blake willing to sacrifice the lives of local women on the belief that the queen had come ashore with the army? Obviously he was, for moments later Rob fired the eight pounder and a there was a plume of debris as its ball hit the roof of chapel.

  And then there was a thunder that echoed around the cliffs surrounding the small harbour. The Rainbow had fired again. The roof of the chapel disappeared along with the roofs of a half dozen other buildings. Meanwhile Daniel turned the Swift to bring the two starboard six pounders to bear..

  The Swift's crew had left the oars to the navy men so they could work as gunners and riggers. The morning breeze was now almost a wind off the land and the oarsmen were not working hard because the sails were all filling. Rob ran towards the starboard guns to aim them. Just as he fired the second one, Mick, standing beside Daniel called out. "Cannon smoke from the Aemelia.” The entire crew ducked low, but in such a way as to still take a look at the reported smoke. The boom of the cannon reached them, but no ball. It was van Tromp's first warning that he was displeased..

  "Danny, Danny!” Rob was yelling as he ran towards the aft command cabin which housed the stern chaser. "Get turned, quickly. I've got one shot left."

  "Are you mad? That was a warning shot from Tromp."

  "And we have two more warning shots to come!” Rob yelled as he ducked into the aft cabin.

  Daniel told the oarsmen to ship their oars and then put the wheel hard over and faced the bow of his ship towards the Dutch squadron so that the Swift's stern pointed towards the chapel. At least bow-on to the Dutchmen they were a smaller target. But the sternchaser did not sound. Rob had left it too late to hit the chapel. The Swift's stern was now pointed up the wide ditch that the Gypsy River ran through into the harbour.

  Below his feet in the command cabin, Rob had seen something that stayed his hand from firing the eight pounder at a building. There were folk running out of the chapel towards the river ditch. One by one they were leaping the bank and landing up to their waists in muck, mud, and shit just to escape the Rainbow's chain shot. Amongst the fleeing men was a splash of brightly colored cloth, pinky-purple cloth, perhaps the silk of a rich woman's gown, or perhaps the banner of a company of soldiers. The cannon was leading it. He fired.

  The gun beneath Daniel's feet thundered, but he didn't bother to turn around to see if Rob had hit the chapel, for his eyes were fixed on the Aemelia. "Cannon smoke!” he yelled out, just as the acrid smoke from his own gun wafted over him and made him choke. The crew ducked down again. About the same time that they heard the boom from the Aemelia's gun, there was a whistle of an incoming ball and a great splash welled up right beside them.

  In a panic, Daniel stared towards the English warships. They had broken their line. They were turning away from Bridlington. If he now turned towards them to join them, the Dutch may think he is making another cannon run. Instead he angled on a course towards the Dutch squadron. It was not his intention, but this gave Rob two more shots at town. Those two shots caused another plume of smoke from the Aemelia. This time when the boom and the whistle reached them, the top of their mainsail was shredded. There are no atheists in a doomed ship. Every man aboard the Swift was praying. Praying and waiting to be ripped and splintered by a dozen guns.

  "We are safe!” Rob was yelling out. No one was listening to him or even looking up. "I tell you we are safe!” Rob yelled again. "The shot that ripped our sail flew on and hit the town. They daren't fire at us without the risk of hitting the town. So long as we stop shooting, we are saved.” He looked at the faces staring at him, and suddenly realized how close he was to being thrown overboard. "I'm sorry,” he told them. "I was a fool to fire on the chapel. I freely admit that Tromp's displeasure at me has cost Batten the chance for more broadsides."

  There was another man on board who was perilously close to being tossed overboard by the crew. Daniel. This because rather than continuing on a nor'east course towards the protection of the English squadron and away from the Dutch guns, he was keeping to a course that was taking them directly into t
he Dutch guns. Such a course amounted to nothing less than suicide. The only thing that stopped the men from dragging Daniel away from the wheel was that the helmsman of the Swift would be the prime target of the Dutch guns, and none of them wanted to personally take that risk.

  But the Dutch guns remained silent. There were calmer heads on the Dutch warships than on the Swift. And why shouldn't there be, for their lives were not at risk. Not at risk at all. Rob shrugged off the men holding him down and ran to the bridge to stand with Daniel. In a low growl he told his friend, "I almost got the bitch. If she hadn't slipped down into the mud of the ditch she would have met the same end as the men beyond her."

  Daniel said nothing. He was furious with his friend and concentrating on piloting his ship. Despite her ragged main sail the Swift was moving swiftly across the wind towards the Aemelia, but just when everyone on both ships assumed that the flagship would be rammed, Daniel spun the wheel and turned her into the wind. The Swift slowed almost immediately, and then drifted side on to the hulking flagship.

  "Neatly done,” Tromp called down to him from his own bridge high above the low, sleek, Swift. "You are wasting your talents in England, Daniel. I've told you before, and I will tell you again. There is a good place for you in my fleet. Join us and you can take part in creating an Empire that circles the globe. Your England will never amount to anything."

  "It certainly won't if you keep dropping rapists and murderers on our shores!” Rob yelled up to him in an angry voice. "Why did you stop our attack on that army of mercenaries? You must know what kind of war they fight. They will join with Prince Rupert and they will rape and pillage their way across the land. Did you not hear what they did to the town of Brentford? A Magdeburg. Rupert and his Bohemians did a Magdeburg on Brentford.” Rob had to stop speaking because his own men were dragging him down. This was not the way one spoke to the most powerful admiral on the seven seas.

  "Forgive him, sir,” Daniel called up to van Tromp. "He has experienced battles on the continent, and he hates that such vicious battles are now coming to England."

  "It's your own doing, you know,” Tromp called down to him. "If you had not targeted the church, I would not have stopped you. There will have been women and children seeking safety in that church, but your balls sent them out of it and fleeing down every road. I could not allow another broadside by Admiral Batten while there were women and children caught out in the open. Go now and tell Batten that. Tell him to cool his guns for another four hours."

  Rob threw off his men so that he could stand and talk again. He was trying desperately to control his temper. "Four hours. By that time the mercenaries will have withdrawn out of range."

  "As will the women and children,” Tromp called down to him.

  "Your concern for the women and children is misplaced, sir!” Rob yelled back. "The mercenaries have already been ashore for a night. By now they will have raped every daughter of the town, and buggered every lad. They may even have killed them once they were finished with them, for that is what they did in Brentford.” He stopped talking because his own men were threatening to strangle him.

  Tromp ignored Rob and kept speaking to Daniel. "Four hours, Daniel. Go and tell that to Batten."

  Daniel saluted the man and then began yelling orders to the riggers to adjust the sails to catch the wind. He signaled Mick on the helm to allow the ship to fall away from the Aemelia. The sooner they got Rob's big mouth away from the admiral, the better.

  Rob was not to be silenced. "Maarten van Tromp!” he yelled out. "I swear that I will make you pay personally for the evil that today you have set loose in my land!"

  "Then you will need a miracle,” Tromp called back to him, just to have the last word, "for how else will an infantry captain ever be put in charge of a fleet, and a fleet is what you will need. A mighty fleet if you are to carry out your threat.” With that Tromp and all of his officers broke out into gales of laughter at Rob's expense, and then all of the men watching on from the rigging of the flagship joined in the mocking laughter.

  They laughed so loudly that they did not hear Captain Robert Blake's last words to van Tromp, "It's not a threat, it's a promise."

  * * * * *

  Vice-Admiral Batten's cabin on the Rainbow was far larger than the command cabin of the Swift. It was large enough for all the senior officers of his ships to stand around his desk, and still have room for Daniel and Rob and their prisoner to stand in front of it. The deck was swimming in water, but not sea water. It was rain water dripping from damp men. The freshening sou'wester which had cleared the morning fog, had replaced it with driving rain.

  "Four hours, well, three now,” Batten said. "I expect there will be no more cannon play today. Meanwhile we will keep watch on the Dutch squadron, but stay well out of their range."

  "Begging your pardon sir,” Rob said. "This engagement is finished sir. I take full responsibility. It was my error for targeting the fisherman's chapel near the river. That does not alter the fact that there is little else we can do here. Commander Wheeler will confirm that once the mercenaries had taken cover, our best shots were just an annoyance to the them. Though we could not stop their landing we have delayed their leaving Bridlington, perhaps for a week, and that is far better than nothing. Meanwhile there are other pressing threats that require your attention."

  "Go on,” Batten said with a wave of his hand. It was most unusual in the navy for a man to take responsibility for a disaster. He could see the effect on his other officers. They all were relaxing.

  "Our prisoner is Captain Metham of the Earl of Newcastle's staff, “ Rob continued. "He will confirm that an outcome of this invasion has always been for the Earl of Newcastle to capture Kingston-upon-Hull and thereby refuse that port to the navy and allow its use to future invasion convoys. Control of Kingston will give him control of the Humber, and therefore of every great town that depends on the Humber for trade. That means every town from York to Lincoln and from York to Nottingham."

  "Will you confirm this?” Batten asked of the prisoner. The man nodded. He feared Robert Blake's anger too much not to.

  "We know that Earl of Newcastle has his army somewhere between Beverly and Bridlington,” Daniel took over from Rob because he knew Kingston and its defenses and its governor. "When they join with the invasion army, they will be resupplied. I doubt very much that they will be satisfied simply to march back to York, when they will never have a better chance to take Kingston. Rob and I recommend that this squadron immediately make for the Humber to reinforce the garrison of the fortress at Kingston. And mark my words well. You must reinforce the fortress rather than the town, for it is the fortress that surrounds and protects the quays and the naval depot."

  "And leave the Dutch squadron lose along our coastline?” asked one of the other commanders, Caesar Brooks.

  "Tromp has already proven that he has no desire to fight the English navy,” Batten answered him. "At least, not unless forced to. I think Daniel is right. Kingston's protected quays are more important to the navy than dogging Tromp. Losing Kingston would multiply this disaster at Bridlington.” He looked back to Daniel. "And what of the Swift. Do you come with us?"

  "Nay, sir,” Daniel replied. "There is nothing that we can do at Kingston that you cannot do better. We are still on a diplomatic mission, and must return to our duties. Before we leave your company, however, I will tell you a good tactic for defending Kingston from a land based attack. Make sure that the drainage sluice gates are broken. There are eight of them, half to the east and half to the west. A few cannon balls in each gate will be enough to break them. With them broken, the flats all around Kingston will again turn into marsh land, and marshland is the finest of allies against cavalry and artillery."

  "Point taken. So where does the Swift sail next?"

  "London, sir. We have with us a diplomatic pouch which must be delivered to John Pym.” Daniel noticed that their prisoner visibly winced at these words.

  Batten stared at the
drenched men from the Swift in silence, and then came to a decision. "Can your departure wait for an hour while I write some dispatches to send with you. As well, I also have a diplomatic pouch. One that we captured in Newcastle. If you are bound for John Pym, then may I trust it to your care?"

  "Of course, sir."

  Batten turned to his officers and told them, "Gentlemen, please return to your ships and prepare for a quick passage to the Humber.” He said nothing else until the cabin had cleared. He then dismissed his aid and had him take the prisoner with him. Now alone with Daniel and Rob he spoke very softly. "I have myself read everything in the pouch I captured. They include a letter from the king to his diplomats in Spain. They are to seek closer ties with Spain and press for money and ships with which to fight parliament. The language is Latin and confusing, but our king seems to be offering the papists a toehold in England in return for the Spanish navy securing some English ports on his behalf. What do the letters in your pouch say?"

  Daniel opened his mouth to tell Batten about the proposed treaty with France against the Spanish, simply to prove what a double dealing snake Charlie was, but Rob stepped in front of him and spoke instead. "The same sir. That the king is angered by his own navy siding with parliament, and that he is seeking Spanish help to force them to change sides.” It was a white lie of course, but a very believable lie that confirmed what Batten already suspected.

  "I knew it,” Batten said with a thump on his desk for punctuation. "The bastard. He would dare to give us to the Spanish. We who have so often saved the kingdom from the Spanish. Just wait until that news spreads through the fleet.” He looked up at the two men and in a calmer voice said. "And now I need to be left with my thoughts and my pen. Give me an hour and then you can be away to take the news of what transpired at Bridlington, and the captured documents to Pym and the Committee of Safety. And may the good Lord give your ship wings."