Wilder Perkins: Hoare and the matter of treason

"I'll thank you to leave my daughter out of the discussion. She has nothing to do with this matter."

"Agreed. Now, as to the king-he is mad, as we all know, and that presents special problems of a tactical nature."

"First, the portrait, Mr…"

The visitor raised his hand in warning. "Ah-ah-ah, sir. No names at all, if you please, not even here. I have gone so far as to assent to your whim with respect to the portrait, as long as it is kept most closely indeed-but names? Not yet, not until our plans bear fruit.

"We have the names we use among ourselves, you know, and I must insist we employ them, and them only…"

"Call me Ahab, then." The host's voice was surly. He was not pleased, it seemed, at taking correction-and in his own house, at that.

"And, as you will remember, I am Saul. Now, as I was saying, about the king…"

"This brings me to my reason for requiring your presence here so soon after the recent happy occasion at which you were a principal character and I a mere hanger-on."

The speaker was Admiral Sir George Hardcastle. Without the least ceremony, the instant Royal Duke had touched at Portsmouth's Camber dock, Hoare had left Mr. Clay in temporary command so he could to make all speed to Admiralty House. His timely arrival had been celebrated by the ringing of eight bells on the old Spanish trophy in the building's front hall.

"Now," the admiral continued, "do you recall my speaking of Admiral Sir Hugh Abercrombie, KJB?"

"Of course, sir," Hoare said, thinking as he spoke that the implied question was absurd. Any officer who did not know his true master would be a zany.

"You will also recall, I trust," the admiral went on, "that you, and that brisk little floating counting-house you command, take orders from me only at Admiral Abercrombie's pleasure. He is your commander, and not I.

"Until now, you have been known to Sir Hugh only by reputation and not in person. Sir Hugh now wishes to further his knowledge of you. He requires you to present yourself to him, at the Admiralty, forthwith. Hammersmith here…"

The admiral looked to one side where his new flag lieutenant sat, looking eager. Delancey, his predecessor, had been shifted into command of the brig Niobe, 18, some weeks ago. After an interesting brush with the virgin Royal Duke, he had taken Niobe to the waters off Cadiz to watch over the remains of the combined Franco-Spanish fleet.

"… has prepared vouchers for suitable lodgings at the Golden Cross Inn near Whitehall. Thank you, Hammersmith, you may go."

Admiral Hardcastle looked away. Hoare could have sworn that he was embarrassed.

Even after his flag lieutenant had closed the door behind him-and stooped to put his ear to the keyhole, if Hoare knew his flag lieutenants-Sir George paused as if he expected Hoare to comment. Hoare had never heard of the Golden Cross Inn, so he could say nothing to the point. More important, he wondered at the implied order to leave his ship. What could have prompted it? Here, too, he would have nothing to say, but must sit and await enlightenment in Sir George's own good time.

The admiral did not keep his subordinate wondering for long.

"Sir Hugh informs me that he is most alarmed," he said, "by the disappearance, without trace, of certain documents dealing with affairs in the Baltic, with which his office has been entrusted by the Foreign Office. Unfortunately-and this must go no further than our four ears-they involve more than purely naval matters. If they were to fall into Boney's hands, he could, I am told, use them to our disadvantage in the Baltic states, including Russia. The Foreign Office would view their loss with extreme concern; news of their loss would certainly produce a storm in the Cabinet. As far as the Admiralty is concerned, trouble with St. Petersburg could deny the navy the pine boles we need so desperately for masting. At worst, we might find ourselves stretched to confront a new enemy in strange, cold, and distant waters.

"I have no notion of these documents' content, nor do I wish to have one. I have more than enough of that sort of burgoo on my plate now. The upshot, Hoare, is that Sir Hugh is eager for you to investigate the matter, and get the damned things back without anyone knowing they ever went adrift in the first place."

This would be another Herculean task, Hoare thought. He would find himself in "strange, cold, and distant waters," indeed, with no charts. There was no point in voicing his concern, however: duty was duty.

"The Admiralty," Sir George went on, "inquires why you have not yet reported to Admiral Sir Hugh Abercrombie in Whitehall for instruction, as ordered in their signal of such-and-such date.

"Now, my office has no record of having received such a signal. Somewhere between Sir Hugh's hand and mine, it went adrift. I have so informed Sir Hugh in words that absolve you, at least of any blame in the matter. You can hardly, after all, be justly charged with lacking diligence in executing an order which you never received. Besides, in all fairness, I can hardly extinguish so soon the promising career you have so recently rekindled.

"By the by, sir, you will note that in relieving you of blame for the mishap, that blame will necessarily be placed somewhere else. Since one can hardly expect that Whitehall will shoulder it, it will almost certainly arrive on this desk to squeak and gibber at me like Mr. Shakespeare's sheeted dead."

Admiral Hardcastle swatted the desk as if the blame had already arrived, a-squeaking, and he wished to put it to rest physically.

"I am truly sorry, sir," Hoare said, "to have been responsible in any way, even indirectly, for placing you in this situation. How may I make recompense?"

"You cannot. I made the mess. Like a good servant, I must clean it up.

"Today is Wednesday. I shall have Patterson post-date your receipt' of this belated order by"-he withdrew the Hunter watch from his waistcoat-"thirty hours. After all, it is already a week overdue, so one more day will not ruin any of us.

"In presenting yourself at Sir Hugh's Admiralty office," he said, "do not use the main door. Those people there will delight in misdirecting you; you would be lucky to escape with your virtue intact. Go around the building, to Minching Lane, and up the alley leading to the rear of the building. Use the privy entrance.

"Hammersmith will provide you with a pass which you will show the man at the privy gate. He'll see that you reach Sir Hugh's private offices.

"Repeat what I just said."

Hoare did so.

"From that point, Hoare, your future is in Sir Hugh's hands, not mine at all.

"Sir Hugh is not as accommodating an officer as I, so you can expect something of an inquisition. However, he knows quite well that you are necessarily a man of few words. I have suggested to him that you present him with a written narrative of the Moreau affair and the matter of the Duke of Cumberland and the Nine Stones Circle. He will have read of them before, of course, through the reports I have already forwarded to him, but he is heavily burdened with paperwork, and a new statement will refresh his memory so he can interrogate you more usefully. He may be inclined to mercy in your case; sometimes he is.

"Now fill me a glass of that port, if you'd be so kind, and have one yourself before you go."

"Thank you, sir," Hoare whispered, "but if I remember correctly, the Admiralty coach is scheduled to depart in fifteen minutes' time.

…"

"What the deuce have you to do with the Admiralty coach, pray?

"If I am to reach London with all dispatch, sir, the coach is the fastest means of doing so. Perhaps you would direct your clerk to book me a place…"

"I hardly see," the admiral said in a testy voice, "how, small though she is, you expect to fit Royal Duke into the Admiralty coach. You are to take her to Greenwich."