Hoare and the Portsmouth Atrocities (27 page)

Except for the proper closing courtesies, this concluded Hoare's report to Admiral Hardcastle. Thereupon, he rested.

*   *   *

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Hoare bore his blotted masterpiece to Admiralty House, where he cajoled the Admiral's rabbit into making a fair copy. This done, he signed it, sealed it, and ordered the rabbit to place it before their common master with all possible speed. Then he returned to the Swallowed Anchor to await the consequences. He whiled away the time by returning
Inconceivable
to a full state of readiness, having taken the liberty of keeping Bold and Stone at hand for a day or two beyond what was proper.

*   *   *

“G
O FIND SOMETHING
to do somewhere else, Delancey,” Admiral Hardcastle said from behind his mountain of papers. “And close the door after you.

“Take a pew, Mr. Hoare. A glass of Madeira with you, sir. Pour me a glass, if you'd be so kind, and take one yourself. I'd like your opinion of it. I think you will find it a superior product. Your good health, sir, and a prosperous future to you,” he went on, raising his glass. “And the thanks of the Admiralty for having put a stop to that Frenchman's capers.”

Hoare could have been tasting a wine from his own stock. At the second sip, his suspicions hardened. “Excuse me, Sir George, for asking,” he said, “but … where did you procure this nectar?”

“From Greenleaf, at the Bunch of Grapes,” the Admiral replied. He sounded a trifle smug. “I'll warrant
you've
never stooped to a place like that. I was past there just yesterday. Hasn't even settled properly yet.”

And that bastard Greenleaf swore he sold me the last of his stock, Hoare snarled to himself. I'll have his guts for garters.

“Now, about the man Moreau's nationality,” the Admiral continued, sailing on, all unconscious of Hoare's outrage. “He was a Canadian, even if of French extraction, and therefore a British subject. He would have been hanged for treason.”

“Yes, sir,” Hoare said. “But he would have come to the same end in any case, would he not? Hanged for treason, or hanged for a spy?”

“Obviously, sir. Nonetheless, this puts a different complexion on things. We can't have the nation looking over its shoulders for traitors in our midst, coming from lower Canada, or the Channel Islands, for that matter.

“No. Our people—
all
our people, whether English, Scottish, Irish, or Canadian—must be seen as loyal subjects of our poor mad Majesty. No. The man was a Frenchman, one of Boney's deluded fools. I'll have Delancey put that about. Delancey!” Sir George bellowed, and the flag lieutenant reappeared as if by magic.

“Good,” Sir George said. “I do like promptness in my officers.”

In a few paragraphs, he dictated an aide-mèmoire to the Lords of the Admiralty in Whitehall, describing how Royal Navy forces had rooted out the French agents who had been responsible for the Portsmouth explosions but mentioning the names of neither ships nor men—nor the name of Thomas Frobisher, knight and baronet. He dismissed Delancey.

“Very good,” Sir George said. “That'll quiet the damned scribblers. And give that self-important blatherskite Frobisher no comfort either.” He cast a sardonic eye over Hoare's untidy garb. “You need a wife,” he stated. “Go and find one.”

Hoare could only nod, and Sir George continued.

“Your tale, Mr. Hoare, draws too heavily for belief upon the history of classical warfare. Crossbows, slings, and now ramming.… I declare, I don't know what the world is coming to. Fill our glasses again, sir.

“Ahem. Since you persist in acting in a classical mode: you accomplished your labors for ‘Eurystheus,' young Heracles; even Talthybius the Dung Man—my clerk Patterson, that is—has had the impudence to say so. Furthermore, you apparently impressed Abercrombie's man.”

“Abercrombie's man, sir?”

“Yes.” The Admiral was commencing to sound restless. “Sir Hugh Abercrombie. He had somebody observing you, it seems, during that triumph of yours after the
Vantage
affair. You should remember; I certainly don't. I wasn't there. Besides, the less I know about Abercrombie's people, the happier I am.
I
don't care to be yellowed because I told secrets I shouldn't have known.

“However, that is neither here nor there. What I can tell you is that Their Lordships of the Admiralty, in their infinite wisdom, have instructed me to order you into
Royal Duke
as master and commander when she makes Portsmouth from Chatham. I am pleased to obey Their Lordships, of course. Here are your preliminary warning orders. I understand she weighed for Spithead on Tuesday, under her present lieutenant.
Your
lieutenant, perhaps I should say. I took the liberty of keeping him in his post. I think you will not be displeased with my decision.”

“He is a man,” Sir George went on, “whose powerful voice more than balances his … well, you will see. In any case, you will be able to relay your orders through him. I'm surprised no one ever thought of that before. Pity; a promising naval career has been held back unnecessarily, in my opinion.”

“May I ask, sir, who…,” Hoare whispered.

“You may ask, sir, but you will receive no answer. I exercise my privilege of being irritating to my subordinates whenever I choose. Let you unveil the man yourself when you read yourself in. I drink to your health and continued good fortune, Captain Hoare.”

“
Captain
Hoare.” Bartholomew Hoare had never really hoped to hear that glorious prefix attached to his name. He glowed within.

Sir George, suiting his action to his words, waited until Hoare's expected expressions of shock and joy ran down and then continued.

“Your appointment will not be gazetted yet, of course—not until you've read yourself in—or had Mr. What's-his-name do it for you. But you may mount your swab as soon as it pleases you to do so. And, since I'll wager you're going to be rushing off to Weymouth anyway, you may as well take this copy of the
Chronicle
with you while you're about it and read it to that widow who interests you so greatly. There's a bit in it about her late husband.

“But steer clear of Frobisher, though, d'ye understand? I can't have you in the same room with him. He's too important in that part of the countryside, and in the House, for you to get embroiled with him. Understand?”

Hoare nodded his assent, whispered his heartfelt thanks, made his bow, and left to find the best tailor in the port. Later, he would invite his friends to help him wet his new swab. Tomorrow morning, he would rent an agreeable horse and betake himself to Weymouth. There was not a moment to lose.

*   *   *

W
HEN
H
OARE HANDED
the article to her, Mrs. Graves read it silently. Then she looked up at him. “This is very gratifying indeed, Mr. Hoare,” she said. “I now apologize most abjectly for having misunderstood your intentions toward my late husband, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for having cleared his good name. Ask me for any reward it is in my power to grant.”

Hoare had done this once before, in Halifax, at the feet of his sweet Canadienne. Nevertheless, he was trembling as he dropped to one knee.

“Mrs. Graves … Eleanor,” he began haltingly, “I have now reached a position in the service where my future is more certain than it was. And I already command a small but sufficient income. I wish to ask … to ask you if you could bring yourself to share that future.”

“Mr. Hoare,” she said, looking down at him with those piercing brown eyes. “Or perhaps I should say ‘Captain Hoare,' if I remember my naval etiquette. Bartholomew. I am thirty-four years old and—to be blunt—still a virgin despite my widowed state. Are you so besotted as to think that, at my age, I would be able to accommodate the attentions of a man? That I would be, or could become, a suitable spouse for an active gentleman in the prime of life? That I could bear his children—yours, to be precise?

“Come, come, sir! I am a mundane woman, and I know it. I am not interested in a lark. No,” she went on. “I thank you, not only for your offer, but for the kindness which must have inspired you to make it. To be sure, my late husband's lands go to his children. But you should know that poor Simon…” She seemed to choke, but continued, “When we were wed, Simon made over to me the jewels he gave me, his house and its furnishings, and his practice is mine to dispose of as I see fit. I shall not be thrown upon the town for my living. I have no children of my own for whom I am responsible. I shall be reasonably prosperous, in fact.”

“I do not make my proposal out of pity, Eleanor,” Hoare protested. “I make it out of admiration, high regard, and the deepest affection. I … I love you.”

“I wonder, Bartholomew,” she said gently, “if you recall the evening you spent with Simon, Miss Austen, Mr. Morrow—Moreau, I suppose I should call him—and myself.…”

“Vividly.”

“Then you will remember my saying something like this: ‘I permit no one but my husband to listen to the music of
my
heart. It belongs to him.' I meant those words then, Bartholomew, and I mean them still. Perhaps it is too soon after Simon's death, but my heart is not yet mine to bestow.”

“Then I shall not withdraw my proposal,” Hoare whispered. “Your heart may not now be yours to bestow on a living man, but perhaps it will find its way back to you in due course. Meanwhile, you have the disposition of my own.”

Hoare could say no more. He bowed over Eleanor Graves's hand, turned, and left her house. Once again, it was raining.

Glossary

Nautical Terms Employed During the Period

ahoo:
In utter disarray

anker:
A small keg, containing about ten gallons

brow:
A gangway between the shore and a vessel or floating dock. Also, the floating dock itself

cheerly:
Briskly

gudgeons:
Sockets, affixed to a vessel's stern-post, into which the rudder's pintles fit

havey-cavey:
Slipshod or surreptitious

hoy:
A small freighter with a large hatch, suitable for transferring supplies to ships at sea (e.g., blockading fleets)

interest:
Influence, a principal means of advancement in the services and the government alike. Treated as a combination of credit and honor, traded and exchanged like a commodity

marines:
A force of seagoing soldiers who served as landing parties, occasionally as ship's police, generally as guards against mutiny. Occasionally took part in the less-skilled aspects of ship-handling and gunnery. “Lobsters,” “Jollies,” or “Leathernecks,” their relations with the hands were not always cordial

overhead:
Belowdecks, the ceiling. Obviously, the upper side of the overhead is a deck

pintles:
The downward-projecting male fittings of a rudder, which are inserted in the gudgeons. In combination, the two sets of fittings—male and female—permit the rudder to swing more or less freely

press:
The sweeping up of hands—experienced, if possible, inexperienced if necessary—by gangs of sailors from undermanned vessels or the Impress Service. Each gang was commanded by an officer. Certain mariners, such as fishermen and East Indiamen, were “protected.” As long as they could show papers to that effect, they were generally safe from impressment

quarterdeck:
Designates the after-portion of the vessel's deck, generally raised five feet or so above the waist, and reached by companionways to port and starboard. The quarterdeck, generally speaking, was officer's country

quarter-gallery:
Protrusions on either side of the stern cabin, containing latrines for the officers and the ship's captain

rifleman:
One of a widely-scattered regiment of skirmishers and sharpshooters, clad in green after the American War, who used the accurate but slow-to-load rifle as their principal weapon. While called “swords,” the bayonets attached to Riflemen's weapons differed little if at all from the ones used by infantry of the line

waist:
The central half (approximate) of a vessel's upper deck, between the forecastle and the quarterdeck

waisters:
The least-skilled class of seamen

yellowed:
Active flag officers of the Royal Navy could hold three ranks: rear admiral, vice admiral, and admiral. Each of these ranks was divided in turn into three parts, identified by the color of the flags flown by their flagships and the vessels in their fleets. Red was the lowest in seniority, white the next, and blue the highest. A flag officer who was unemployed for whatever reason was designated as an admiral (or rear admiral or vice admiral) “without distinction of squadron;” he was “yellowed.” Admirals of the fleet, being always on active duty, were never yellowed

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HOARE AND THE PORTSMOUTH ATROCITIES
. Copyright © 1998 by Wilder Perkins. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

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First Edition: December 1998

eISBN 9781466884601

First eBook edition: September 2014