The Fleet, the Flight - part four
Then followed days of impatient tension. Libau waited for an attack that kept not coming.
The fast but woefully incomplete news by semaphore was reinforced by slower but more thorough news brought by rider: a Swedish army had invaded from Riga, and had effortlessly taken all land on the right bank of the Aa (or Lielupe) river, up to where its tributary the Eckau (Iecava) met it a mere two miles north of Mitau. Upstream of there, Sweden seemed to hold the entire right bank of the Eckau at least as far upstream as the town of Gross Eckau, which was by now already a Swedish resupply station. It was a sensible spot, lying with 14 miles of both Mitau (to the West) and Bauske (to the South). It didn't take particularly good military intelligence or scouting to know those would be the towns likely to put up the biggest fights.
Then news came that Mitau was under siege. Then news stopped coming.
And Libau waited for the news that wasn't coming.
- - -
And in some ways, life continued almost as normal. Craftsmen crafted, teachers taught, shipwrights wrought ships. Goods were bought and sold, though only goods in hand. Those who had other countries to live in left by ship, some to Königsberg in Prussia, more to Kolberg in Brandenburg. Some who were simply afraid walked the old Amber Road down the coast toward Memel.
Courland kept most of its ships on the Baltic home, or patrolling near to it. They were ready to defend, but no Swedish fleet came to defend against, at least not to Libau and Windau. Courland's northernmost point was Cape Kolka, reaching north between the Gulf of Riga and the rest of the Baltic to point toward the Estonian mainland beyond the northeastern horizon. There was little of significance on the coast, economically or militarily, save the ability to see passing ships. Sweden took the mostly Livonian coastal villages east of the cape in one day, then the villages west of it the next, cutting off Courland's ability to see what ships passed between Sweden and Riga.
- - -
Conversations from Windau to Libau to Polangen invariably included lines like these:
"Will the Duke fight the Swedish fleet?"
"Do you think it could be
too hot in Tobago?"
"I heard Sweden made a new version of the
Vasa warship and we won't fight until our nautical minds figure out the weakness that will sink it like the first
Vasa."
"Our Duke's just being kind to the foreigners down in Libau, to give them rides home before he destroys Sweden. We'll be fine."
"I have family in _______, and no one has heard from ______ in a week."
"Surely our ships are better than their ships?"
"Can you teach me how to use your pistol?"
"My brother left on the first group of ships headed for Flekkerøy and the colonies. I'm thinking of getting on the next group."
- - -
Jakob heard it all. First hand. Second hand. From his inner circle. From people whose names he did not not know. He stuck to what he did best - he managed Courland's affairs. those were, chiefly:
- evacuating foreigners who desired evacuation, because that was honourable;
- sending or preparing to send anyone who wished to the colonies, because that was profitable;
- planning to defend Libau and Windau by land and sea.
The first was rapidly concluded in days. Foreigners firmly decided to return to their home countries were dropped off at Königsberg or Kolberg, depending on where they were headed and when they made up their minds. Those who were certain they did not wish to remain in Courland, but were undecided as to answering Martin's and Jakob's call to head to the colonies, were dropped off at Copenhagen or Bornholm, from where they could either easily await the next Couronian ship to choose colonial adventure, or find passage to Rostock, Lübeck, or anywhere else otherwise. The ships handling this evacuation were either back in Libau within a week, or else were headed toward Flekkerøy and the colonies anyway.
The second would have been simpler without Martin's inspired second-guessing. Sending serfs, peasants, and aspiring landowners to the colonies had been done before, and would only have been different this time due to greater numbers and the possibility of the Swedish navy intervening. After Martin's encouragement, a surprising number of skilled tradespeople preferred the colonies to life under Swedish occupation. Mostly, established masters preferred to remain in Courland or in Europe, liking their prospects for advancement in skill or prestige or wealth. But some apprentices and less-proven masters were now signing up for colonial misadventure. Smiths, foundry workers, glassworkers, kiln-makers, shipwrights, priests and rabbis, money lenders, merchants and others were also interested in facing the challenge of establishing their trades, far from home. Some who studied astronomy or botany or medicine saw new frontiers of knowledge for their field as well as new challenge for themselves. Broadly, all these people needed merited somewhat nicer accommodation at sea than serfs and peasants did. Jakob agreed this was a happy problem to have, but as Martin made it, Martin had to handle it.
The answer was some quick repurposing of the largest of the ZK boats, already fully ready to sail, but still having the installation of its guns and gun deck construction completed. Martin cancelled the installation of half the remaining guns and had hammocks put in instead. This largest of the ZK iterations was designed to test how much you could minimize crew size while maximizing sail area. Fewer cannons meant a little more comfort for a few dozen voyagers. The expected lateral stability of the ZK also meant that while it took only a little more than its fair share of
books, it had more than its share of installed
tables. As the ship was modified and loaded (in two days), the dockworkers nicknamed it "the library" - but the name that stuck was
Kurlands Arche - Courland's Ark.
Leaving Martin to solve the problem he somewhat created left Jakob freer to handle the third: Courland's defence. With so few soldiers, it was already true that the men stationed at Mitau and Bauske were not going to receive reinforcements. Semigallia was on its own. Jakob wasn't even going to defend Courland's old capital at Goldingen, if battle were to come there. He limited his defence planning to what was reachable by sea, from Windau in the north to Polangen in the south, and Libau between them. Nothing else had enough chance at success to merit consideration.
"My Duke, this will end in sieges of Windau and Libau, which will last until attrition in your navy exhausts your ability to resupply them."
"No, my good man. We will abandon even Windau and Libau if it can prevent that attrition. The capacity to resupply with
five more ships is worth more than the capacity to delay conquest by
five more weeks. My son's choice of metaphor was harsh, but apt. For all my failings to hold on to
the land, an Ark can preserve
the Duchy. Courland is in the hands of ships already.
"
- - -
Those ships, and the coast that had build them, kept waiting for Swedish ships to come.
Instead, all the normal traffic came. Merchants thought to sell powder or guns at a better price, though Courland was still making its own in quantity. Letters came and went, especially went. The trade of autumn grain continued, the rhythms of nature unaffected by man's sense of doom.
And a messenger came from Copenhagen, via Visby. And not just any agent, but Count Valdemar from Flekkerøy.
"Jakob, I am here at the King's urging to speak to you of Swedish plans Denmark has lately become aware of. And dear King Frederick chose
me so you'd receive the news from someone familiar. How long since Sweden invaded? 16 days? And still not a sail in sight of Libau. Nothing in Gustav Horn's plans is ever an accident. If anything is left to chance, it is only because that chance may swing events further in Sweden's favour. Sweden intends to take your entire Duchy, Jakob. You are no fool, you know they can. You could probably tell me how much of it they've taken already. They will drive all what was
of Kettler out of the land and into the sea, finishing here. Why? If you remain here, they know they can defeat you handily on land even if you might defeat them at sea. And you would be captured or killed.
"
But! - you say -
surely to pinch me between army and fleet would be more efficient! And this may be militarily true. So why do you still see no Swedish sails? Because should they face you at sea - you, personally, I mean, not Courland's navy in general - they might send you to the bottom of the Baltic instead. Or you and your entire family. They need only know which ship to focus on. And why do they await this chance of the Skipper Duke actually playing the skipper? Because they know of your new deal with Prussia and Poland. That news travelled
fast, Jakob. Poland
wanted it known at how low a price it had kept its vassals in the fold. But here's the thing... should you family go down, down, down to the bottom of the Baltic, Sweden doesn't have Courland's frustrating neutrality and commercial derring-do as a thorn in its side any more. I'm sure Gustav Horn has every confidence he can sway your brother-in-law to Sweden's side. Ah - the sudden pallor on your face all but confirms you think the same. Can you divide your family, Jakob? Squirrel them all separately away - especially the boys - with various friends all across Europe? Or just take your chances against Sweden's fleet and test whether you might all escape together, to rebuild Kettler prestige from, where.... Amsterdam, or Edinburgh perhaps? Wait too long, and your whole Duchy will be lost, ending in your capture or death. Control the timing of when you face Sweden on the Baltic, and you stakes rise to pyrrhic victory at sea or an extinguished Kettler line."
Valdemar declined most of Courland's hospitality and was back at sea the same day. He wanted to be out safely ahead of any naval battles. Messages for Copenhagen, Flekkerøy, and the colonies travelled with him.
- - -
That night, Jakob imagined news of this invasion reaching Tobago. The first word would reach them in perhaps four weeks: someone was invading, we don't know who. In five weeks, a ship might come with more news, or it might be a ship that didn't come from Europe, or the right part of it. However much news stalled crossing Courland, updates would find Tobago in little spurts between even more accentuated pauses. Perhaps in 12 weeks some nation's warships would simply conquer Tobago, and that would be how news of Courland's fate would be transmitted and translated across the Atlantic.
He found that future straightforward and therefore painfully plausible. Then he imagined the fate of a Tobago that instead received news of Courland's fall from Couronian warships, come flying the black crayfish flag, there to remain in Tobago's defence....
And because Jakob was tired, he then pictured a ship docking at Tobago, lowering a long ramp, down which walked all the animals of the world, two by two.
The vision was gone as quickly as it came. His mind's eye didn't have enough of a sense of what Tobago should truly look like, in the end.