HMS Diamond (22 page)

      
Miraculously all the pieces came together an instant before the First Lord’s head appeared above the bulwark. The marines dutifully crashed their muskets to present arms and the bosun’s pipe began to squeal. It looked as if receiving the First Lord of the Admiralty on a moment’s notice was something the crew of the
Diamond
did every day and twice on Sunday. Smith had to suppress a grin. This was going to be a good crew.

      
"Ah there you are, Captain Smith." Lord Spencer said as he held out his hand. "Allow me to introduce my associates, the Honorable Thomas Grenville and his Special Assistant for Maritime Affairs, Lord Walter Howell." Smith shook hands all around. He had met Lord Howell once before. He was the emissary from the King that, several years ago, informed Walker, Whitney and himself of their rewards for having saved Prince William. Grenville he knew as an influential member of parliament and very prominent in the London business community.

      
"Welcome aboard gentlemen. If you would please follow me, we can go below for some refreshments." They went down the quarterdeck capstan ladderway and proceeded aft where they went through a general workroom called the coach and into Smith’s great cabin. After being seated and served, Smith finally opened the discussion.

      
"My Lord," speaking to Spencer, "I was informed I would be receiving some dignitaries, but I am not sure I was prepared for the appearance of someone such as yourself, Mr. Grenville and Lord Howell."

      
"Yes, I am sorry for all the secretiveness, Smith; but there is good reason for it. My colleagues and I must make a brief journey, your ship was at hand, so I am afraid this imposition fell on you."

      
"Oh no, sir. It is in no way an imposition; but may I know where we’re going."

      
"I am sorry again captain, but no you may not—at least not while we’re still in port. I assume your ship is ready for sea?"

      
"Yes, sir. In all respects."

      
"Fine, then I will trouble you to get underway and proceed to the mouth of the Thames. Once you get there, I’ll tell you where you are going next."

      
This was all very, very, unusual and quite mysterious; but it was not Smith’s place to ask anything more.

      
"Yes, sir. We will have the tide running with us in a few hours and..."

      
"We need to get underway immediately, captain. Immediately."

      
This was even stranger. Getting underway against the tide was not impossible, but it was tricky. Smith excused himself, proceeded on deck to give the initial orders, and a few minutes later Spencer joined him. Unlike many of his predecessors, Spencer was a good administrator and took a genuine interest in naval affairs. He never missed an opportunity to learn more about the way this navy of his operated, so it was no surprise to see him come on deck to watch the ship get underway.

      
The ship’s master already had the different sections of the crew organized on deck and the capstan manned; for that was the beginning of it all, raising the anchor.

      
Most people think that men pushing against bars that were connected to the capstan hauled anchor cables in; but that’s not how it worked at all. The anchor cable on a naval vessel was way too thick to wrap around a capstan. Made of hemp (preferably Bridport hemp), the rule of thumb was that it was to be a half-inch in circumference for every foot of ship’s beam. Thus, the anchor cable on a ship like the
Diamond
with a 40-foot beam would be 20 inches around and that’s not going to go around a capstan very easily. Instead, a different system was used.

      
The capstan had a much thinner line wrapped around it, called a messenger, which ran out to several pulleys and back again in an endless circle. The messenger paralleled the path the anchor cable needed to take in order to be stowed below. As the capstan turned, it sent the messenger around, which pulled in the anchor cable.

      
The trick was to temporarily secure the anchor cable to the messenger while it was being drawn. To do that they used a series of short lengths of rope called "nippers." As the cable came in through the hawsehole, ships boys would wrap this length of line around both the cable and the messenger, binding the two together. Each boy would then walk alongside his nipper until the cable got near the main hatchway leading below. At that point, he would unwrap the nipper and run back to the hawsehole to secure it yet again to the cable.

      
The men placed the capstan bars against their chests and were pushing in unison to take the slack out of the anchor cable. At length the call came from the fo’c’sle "Short Say!" This meant that all the slack had been removed from the cable. Smith raised the speaking-trumpet to his lips and gave the command "Away aloft! Trice up and lay out!!"

      
Swarms of men proceeded up the rope ladders known as ratlines and sidestepped out along supporting ropes hanging from the yards. In doing so they took up the studding sail booms (extensions to the yard arms) and pulled them out of the way.

      
A few minutes later came another call from the fo’c’sle: "Up and down!" This meant the anchor cable was running straight up and down, but the anchor had not yet broken ground. Smith replied with another set of orders.

      
"Man the top sail sheets and let fall!" Which caused men to drop loose the middle sails on the fore and main mast; but they were still just hanging there limply.

      
From the Fo’c’sle: "Anchor’s Away!" The anchor was off the bottom.

      
From Smith, this time to the men on deck: "Sheet home!" This caused two groups of men to pull on some lines that drew the bottom corners of the topsails into the yardarm. With a crack the small sails filled with the westerly breeze and the
Diamond
started to move.

      
"The helm is answering, sir," reported the quartermaster at the wheel, which meant the ship now had enough speed for the rudder to bite into the water and steer the ship.

      
They were indeed officially underway, but if he planned to fight the Thames current all the way to the Channel, he would need more than just those two topsails.

      
"Let fall the mainsails!" He ordered. And the large bottom sails on both the fore and main mast came tumbling down.

      
"Wasters, sheet home." As with the topsails, two groups of men on deck pulled on some lines which brought the corners of the mainsails to the yards where they filled with a much deeper pop.

      
Smith looked up at the sails, looked at the wind, looked aloft again and gave some orders for a slight change in the angle of the yardarms, which would move the sails to better catch the wind. Only when that was done, when all lines were secured and the men were down from on high, could Smith breathe easier. He was headed down-channel with almost a "soldiers wind" behind him and, as long as that held, he would be all right, even against the tide. If that wind should change and, God forbid, come around from the east, then he would be involved in a nightmare of tacking back and forth in the relatively narrow river with sand bars and shoals in the oddest places.

      
He knew the toughest part of the journey was the early part. Setting out from Deptford, the river soon made a sharp turn south then reversed itself at Greenwich, headed north to Blackwall, reversed south again for a stretch, then leveled out in a more or less East-West direction for the remainder. With soundings ranging from 9 to 13 fathoms, this was the tricky part.

      
The river continued past Woolwich, past the shoal at Barking Shelf, past Erith, and past the marshes before Black Shelf. Fort Tilbury and Coal Shed were off to larboard, but Smith had to stay toward the starboard side of the stream because of the Oven Hope shoals. Just past Chapman Island, he could see Hadley Castle in the distance, but he couldn’t spend time sightseeing. This was where the Blythe sandbar ran for several miles along the starboard side.

      
Finally, he reached South End where the Thames started to open up to the sea. But here he had a decision to make. Do they take the North Channel out to the North Sea via the King’s Channel and Gunfleet Shoal? Do they continue eastward via the Barrows and Black’s Deeps? Or do they cut through the Queen’s Channel, around the East Buoy at Margate Sand and head south toward the North Atlantic? It was time to call Lord Spencer back on deck.

      
"Good afternoon, m’ Lord. I trust my servant has made up appropriate accommodations for you and your group."

      
"Oh, yes. Quite. I have a bed now in the great room, Mr. Grenville will be in your sleeping room, and Lord Howell will sleep in the coach. We’ll be quite comfortable, I am sure; but I am sorry to have put you out like this." Actually, he wasn’t at all sorry as both he and Smith expected it to happen.

      
"Not at all," replied Smith. "It’s no inconvenience whatsoever." Which meant that he was going to bump Lieutenant Pine out of his berth, and Pine was going to bump the second lieutenant out of his, and so on down the line until some miserable midshipman would find himself bundled up and sleeping on deck this evening.

      
"We are at the Nore, sir, and soon I’ll have to pick a direction for the ship."

      
"Yes, of course. You are going to Flushing in the Netherlands, Mr. Smith, and please make all possible speed. There we will pick up another passenger and you will proceed, again with all speed, back to London. Is that clear?"

      
"Yes, sir."

      
"Very good. I believe I will retire now."

      
And he did. In fact, it was the last he would see of Spencer or the others until the following day.

***

      
Flushing is almost a straight shot 120 miles across the Channel from the mouth of the Thames. It is an ancient city located at the entrance to the Scheldt River and an important seaport. Smith had never been there, nor was he to get there on this trip. No sooner had they entered the mouth of the river then a pinnace carrying their passenger met them.

      
Francis Rawdon-Hastings, the 2nd Earl of Moira, was a short, dark-haired, intense, bundle of Irish energy. Like Grenville, he was a Whig politician, but Smith knew him better by his military reputation. He had served as an infantry officer in many of the major battles of the American Revolution; but his real claim to fame came at the Battle of Hobkirk’s Hill. There, with a small unit he had formed called the Irish Volunteers, he defeated a much larger American force; and he did it with nothing more than superior military skill. Smith admired that and was looking forward to getting to know the man on the trip back. But that was not to be either.

      
Lord Moira was greeted by Spencer, Grenville and Howell and the four immediately repaired to the great cabin. Indeed Smith was not invited in until at last they arrived back at the Downs and anchored. The marine guard, who had been stationed at their door, passed the word for him.

      
The great cabin was quite frankly, a mess. Papers were strewn about everywhere; maps covered his one and only large table, and ledger books were piled on the floor. Grenville stood at one of the windows that lined the back of the cabin. The others sat in a variety of chairs and none of them were looking any too happy.

      
"Captain Smith," Grenville stood staring out one of the aft windows and began without preamble, "do you know how things are purchased?"

      
Smith was a bit taken aback by the question. "Sir?"

      
Turning to face Smith, "I said, do you know how things are purchased?"

      
"Yes, sir. I go to someone who has a good or a service that I want, give him some money, and he provides that good or service."

      
"Quite. Now, suppose you are Lord Spencer here. Suppose you need a thousand barrels of Stockholm Tar for your ships. How do you buy it?"

      
"I would imagine that it would be purchased by one of my agents."

      
"Yes, but how do you pay for it? Do you suppose your agent shows up in Stockholm with five or ten thousand guineas in his pocket?"

      
"No, sir. I must admit, I’ve never really thought about this, but I would assume that the supplier would receive some kind of promissory document, a banker’s note perhaps."

      
"And what happens to that note?"

      
"I would imagine he would take it to his bank."

      
"Correct. And the bank gives him credit for the amount of that note. Now what happens to it?"

      
"I have no idea, sir."

      
"Then I’ll tell you. It is sent to a central clearinghouse, the one in London is over on Lombard Street. There the claims are aggregated and sent to the respective national banks for payment.