The Devil to Pay (19 page)

‘Suffice to say I want a close eye kept upon him and to be regularly informed of his progress. Also he has been engaged in some questionable correspondence and associations from which I see it as my duty to protect him. In this I will require your assistance.’

‘I will be only too happy to assist, sir.’

‘Good, Captain Taberly.’

When the man left Hotham could guess what he would do; beard anyone he knew aboard the flagship and enquire about Burns, in which he would learn chapter and verse about how he had been favoured. That should tell him to keep a close eye on Burns. As soon as Taberly left Toomey entered to be told how the interview had progressed.

‘That, we can be sure, is one ship John Pearce will not be visiting.’

‘I would suggest, Sir William,’ Toomey insisted, ‘that apart from the orders you will give him in writing, it would be a good idea to talk to Lieutenant Digby in private, as you have done with Taberly.’

‘Verbal instructions?’

‘Which can be recalled in the manner in which you wish.’

‘I am minded to ask Holloway to undertake the duties of captain of the fleet, which will shift a burden from both our shoulders.’

‘Until Sir Hyde returns?’

‘I have a feeling, Toomey that Sir Hyde Parker will not wish to serve in close proximity to me. He is too much Hood’s man.’

There was a bit of a gleam in Toomey’s eye as he responded, an appreciation that his employer was, for once, thinking clearly. ‘Which means the written orders come from Holloway?’

Hotham nodded. ‘Best send for Digby.’

To be called to the flagship was the last thing that particular officer wanted; he had far too much to do in sorting out his new command but it was an instruction that brooked no delay and it was with a quick decision that he appointed an experienced seaman called Tilley, as his coxswain, his job to take charge of an equally hastily assembled boat crew who soon got their rhythm and cut down on the spume coming in over the thwarts. There was joy too when Tilley yelled out
Flirt
to tell the officer of the watch who was coming aboard, that somewhat dampened by the ribald comments that came out of the lower deck gun ports in association with the name.

A master and commander merited little in the way of ceremony and soon Digby found himself outside the admiral’s cabin awaiting instructions to enter, his nerves on edge for the very good reason that folk below the rank of post captain were rarely called to see the admiral. Besides the whole thing was new to him. It relaxed him not at all to enter and observe that Hotham, seated at his table, had upon it not only charts and papers, but also a bottle of wine and two glasses.

‘Mr Digby, I welcome you. And can I say that it gives me great pleasure to promote deserving officers. It is one of
the chief joys of command, of which I have to tell you there are precious few.’

Digby was tempted to ask him why the hell he had promoted a sod like Taberly, but it was not one that lasted long. ‘I hope I can justify the trust you have put in me, sir.’

‘Did I not do so before, when I sent you to Biscay? That was a mission well fulfilled, was it not?’

That made Digby swallow hard; he suspected, as did John Pearce, that he had been given the task to get him out of the way. What came to mind then was that letter he had got from a lawyer called Lucknor and the question it posed. Who had been aboard HMS
Brilliant
the night Pearce had been pressed and who had been out hunting with the press gang?

He had thought about not answering but finally decided to do so; after all he had been left aboard the frigate. But he declined to say who had gone out with Captain Barclay, pleading lack of recollection, for to do so would drop the then Midshipman Farmiloe in the potential soup. Realising Hotham was still waiting for an answer; he gave one in the affirmative.

‘Hard to go from that and back into a ship of the line, what?’

Harder than you think was what he reckoned, what he said was, ‘I go where my duty takes me sir.’

‘Please, Mr Digby, sit down,’ Hotham said, pouring two glasses of wine as he complied. ‘Italian, I’m afraid, supplies of claret being hard to secure.’

‘I drank nothing else in Leghorn, sir, and found it very palatable.’

‘Ah yes, Leghorn. Mr Digby, I have to tell you that I
received a complaint from a certain Major Lipton. The name is, I think, familiar to you?’

‘With regret, sir, it is.’

‘It pleases me that you do not equivocate, which seems to be the manner of too many young officers. Perhaps you would like to explain the connection.’

Digby took a sip of wine before complying and when he spoke he did so hoping the tremor in his voice was not noticeable, about how Pearce had asked him to act as his second, he agreeing on the grounds there was no one else. That no amount of offered apologies seemed acceptable to Lipton though many had been made.

‘He is a man of high passions, is he not?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then it would be hard to hold against an officer the need to aid another. Please know that I asked only for clarification because a certain incident followed on from that encounter and I wonder if you know of it?’

‘Incident, sir?’ Digby asked, looking perplexed and convincingly so.

‘Yes, apparently certain insults were directed to a lady in whose company Pearce was met. It ended with a serious assault on Lipton and his officers.’

‘This is the first I have heard of it, sir.’

‘Did you come across the lady in question?’

That got a furious shake of the head. ‘No sir.’

‘Well, we shall rest the matter there. We both know that duelling is forbidden but I will not make an issue of it. All I will say is you should, if you can, avoid acting as anyone’s second again.’

‘I will most certainly take that advice, sir.’

‘Good. You will shortly receive orders for the Adriatic. There is an important task of some delicacy to be carried out there and I want to add for you certain facts. I wish you to take a message, it will be from me and in writing, to a certain Mehmet Pasha, who holds power on behalf of Constantinople in old Illyria and specifically in the Gulf of Ambracia. You will not know of it.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Damn fine anchorage I am informed, could hold an entire fleet if we ever needed to seal those waters.’ Digby looked at Hotham as if willing him to continue in the same vein, but the subject was switched. ‘Intelligence from various sources, not least the Austrians, tells me he’s a bit of a rogue this Mehmet and I fear he might be playing ducks and drakes with the French. He needs to be sharply reminded that the power in the Mediterranean lies with the combined fleets of ourselves and Spain.’

Hotham spun round the chart on his table and placed a finger on the gulf in question, a circular bight with a tight set of narrows that suggested an extinct volcano. Beside it lay a map of the surrounding land, with towns and rivers marked to which the admiral alluded, pointing out a place called Koronsia where the Turk occupied an old fortress and from where he ran his satrapy, both of which Digby was to take with him on leaving.

‘Greed is at the heart of the matter, of course. He will love money, being a Turk.’

‘Can we match the French?’

‘I’m dammed if I will accede to that. If we proceed in the subsidy line we will get fleeced. No, it must be made plain to him that he is risking everything he possesses and I will
give you a letter telling him so. How’s your French?’

‘Poor, sir.’

‘Well in that case we will need to send with you someone who has the facility. You heard about the verdict at Mr Pearce’s court martial?’

‘I was present, sir.’

‘Were you by damn. To support him once more?’

‘No, sir, mere curiosity.’

‘Well his acquittal presented me with a problem for I cannot just reinstate him to another command and nor do I think he would suit a place in a ship of the line. Too independent a character, which would only lead to another court. He has, as you know, excellent French, which is Mehmet Pasha’s second tongue?’

‘You’re proposing he should come along?’

‘Two birds with one stone, Digby. The fleet is short of officers and so are you. Mr Pearce can fulfil a dual role as your premier and the fellow to press home my message to our Turkish Satrap.’

Digby did not dislike John Pearce yet he wanted to object; he was a mite headstrong and then there was a gulf between them on many matters, not least religion and that included Mrs Barclay. But there was no gainsaying Hotham, the admiral would get what he wanted.

‘I wish to request another person to stand watch, sir, perhaps a mid with some sea time.’

‘I fear I cannot indulge you, Mr Digby, every vessel is short.’ That got an unhappy nod; he would be obliged to stand watch himself. ‘I would appreciate some indication of when you will be ready to weigh?’

Digby was not fooled by the avuncular way that was said
and there was, for any naval officer, only one response. ‘I will raise anchor as soon as I receive my orders, sir.’

‘Then I will write my message to Mehmet Pasha right away and if you call upon Captain Holloway he will present you with your orders. He is now captain of the fleet.’

There was hard tone at the end of that, one that imparted it was time to go so Digby stood up, thanking Hotham effusively, but he wasn’t finished.

‘One more thing, Mr Digby, I am all for the taking of prizes and for enterprise and gallantry in my officers. If I admonish you on one thing, while I would not want you to ignore opportunity if it arises, do not let a fellow who has just lost a ship, in a somewhat unconventional manner, entice you into doing the same. There is a difference between being brave and being rash.’

Which was as good as way as any for the admiral to say he was certain the court had got it wrong. ‘I will bear that in mind, sir.’

‘The primacy of this task cannot be overstated.’

‘Sir.’

‘That will be all.’ As Digby made for the door, Hotham added with the distracted air of something forgotten that should not be. ‘Oh, and there will be despatches for Naples.’

‘Lied to me about Mrs Barclay, of course, which I will not forget. But I think I can safely say that I have given young Digby certain markers he will not miss. I doubt if he sees a Spanish Plate Ship taking in water he will risk HMS
Flirt
.’

‘They are our allies, sir.’

‘Irony, Toomey,’ Hotham responded wearily. ‘Are you ready for the next stage?’

‘I am,’ replied the Irishman, ‘but I will still wonder if it would be better coming from you.’

‘Don’t agree. Pearce knows I don’t like him and he also would dearly love to see me forced to justify my actions over Barclay. Anything I offer him will be seen as a poisoned chalice and I think even from you he will be guarded.’

‘Hence the despatches for Naples?’

‘Exactly, and if it is Palermo I am sure the sod will contrive some way to get Digby to call there. Then Sir William Hamilton may get his wish and find a powerful British warship in the Tyrrhenian Sea, albeit for a very
short time, long enough for Mrs Barclay to be found and returned to her rightful station.’

‘I cannot see even then that Captain Barclay will find the task easy. Any woman who has run so far will not be biddable.’

‘All I can do is gift him an opportunity. After that it is up to him how things work out.’

Though he berthed elsewhere, Toomey ate in the wardroom and that was where he found John Pearce, who looked at him in an expectant way to receive in response a shake of the head.

‘But I can tell you one piece of news that will please you. The men from
Larcher
have been shifted as a body.’

‘Admiral Hotham agreed to that?’

‘It is not a subject with which he would concern himself. In the absence of a captain of the fleet I undertook to make it so.’

‘Why thank you, Mr Toomey.’

To say that John Pearce was perplexed was an understatement; he had never seen this fellow as a friendly sort, quite the reverse. Also it seemed, right of this moment the Irishman was somewhat on edge.

‘Perhaps a turn around the deck, Mr Pearce?’ The clerk tapped his earlobe, which obviated the need to say why.

‘If you wish.’

Out on deck the way the weather had changed was very obvious, the ship hauling against her anchor on what was a lively swell. The long spell of good weather was over; there was a blanket of cloud overhead as well as a telling and far from warm wind.

‘I hope this breeze does not discomfit you.’

Such a comment, clearly some kind of preamble, only served to make a cautious John Pearce even more wary. ‘Not at all. Is it not you who is more likely to have an aversion to the elements, which makes you being here somewhat odd?’

‘I admit to the truth,’ Toomey answered with a smile that was quickly followed by a frown. ‘I have a favour to ask of you.’

‘In return for the Larchers?’

‘You see through my attempts at subterfuge, sir.’

Not much of that in evidence, Pearce thought, but it was not worth saying. ‘What kind of favour?’

‘One that involves your knowledge of French.’

‘I have a sudden sense that Lord Hood is still with us in spirit if not in person.’

‘The reasons are the same and if he were still present he might well ask you for the same favour. There is a mission to undertake in which the facility with the language would be an asset to back up a written message. No, not an asset, a necessity, since it may well lead to some form of negotiation and that requires a degree of discernment.’

That got a wry look from John Pearce; he was unsure if that was a quality he possessed.

‘The task is to call upon a certain Turkish Satrap who controls the Eastern Adriatic to warn him, or perhaps advise him would be a better way of putting it, that the way he is dallying with our enemies is not only unhelpful but for him precarious. The French are making overtures to him and he is we are told, tempted by their blandishments.’

‘You want to demand that he cease?’

‘But with some delicacy, for such people can be touchy when it comes to respect. He speaks no English so there is
room for misunderstandings. There was a previous embassy sent by Lord Hood in which that occurred through the use of an interpreter, Mehmet’s own man, given we have no one at all who can speak to a Turk in his own tongue.’

‘And Lord Hood’s envoy—’

‘Spoke little French,’ Toomey said quickly to finish his sentence. ‘The letter he carried from Lord Hood was in French but it was no more really than a means of introducing his man and alluding to his mission. Whatever the Ottoman interpreter said, and who knows if it was accurate, there was so much confusion that the whole thing ended up in some very sharp exchanges. I’m afraid the officer Lord Hood chose was of a somewhat short temper.’

‘Foolish.’

‘Mehmet Pasha needs to be spoken with directly, not through another, first to reassure him of His Majesty’s friendship added to a discreet reminder of the power that represents. It may be that we will be obliged to bribe him, which requires some indication of the level of such.’

‘There is another way.’

‘Do not think it has not been considered, but Sir William must have the strength to beat the French now snug in Toulon, he cannot have diversions in other parts of the Mediterranean that draw off even one of our line of battle ships.’

‘If he’s that much of a threat?’

Toomey scoffed. ‘The man’s a distraction at best, which is why we seek another avenue besides a show of force.’

‘There must be others you can ask.’

‘True there are post captains who have some facility with French but they would not take kindly to being sent away
on what is something of a modest task with a potential fleet action in the offing. You are a more fitting person if for no other reason than your present unemployed status.’

The truth of that had to be acknowledged; every sailor in King George’s Navy thirsted to be part of a successful fleet action – the Glorious First had made them all jealous – and there was a very high chance of one here in the Mediterranean in the coming weeks.

‘So we will send a smaller vessel and a non-post captain. It struck me that if Lord Hood were still present he might engage you for such an embassy. Sir William requires the same service and I wish to suggest to him that you should undertake it.’

‘At least this time my court martial is over.’

‘Touché.’

‘I am pleased you do not pretend not to know what I am talking about.’

Toomey stopped and looked Pearce right in the eye. ‘I advise the admiral, sir, but I do not command him.’

There was a huge temptation to ask the Irishman to elaborate then but it was stifled by one certainty; he would not say anything that would be a criticism of his employer, a man upon whom he depended. As well there were certain matters nagging at his attention, not least that this conversation was happening not long after the arrival of Ralph Barclay.

‘Mr Pearce, I acceded to your request regarding your late crew in order that you would accept my
bona fides
. I am tasked to solve the problem for Admiral Hotham whom, I can assure you, while he might accept you could be the perfect choice for a problem left for him to deal with by
Lord Hood, he will not ask himself. Indeed he may take some persuading.’

‘Just as well,’ Pearce snapped; it was just as well the sod had no idea he was after him for a conspiracy to allow Barclay to commit perjury, or was that still the case? ‘Lord Hood had this in mind, you say?’

‘He did, but failed to act upon it prior to his departure. Sir William will dictate his letter to the Pasha using the same quill as Lord Hood, that of Mr Brooks, the under clerk who came from
Victory
, who has excellent French.’

‘Then send him.’

‘He is desk man and not made of the stuff required, Mr Pearce. Besides his duties in the flagship means he cannot be spared. The vessel chosen will proceed to the Adriatic
via
Naples, where certain requests must be passed on to King Ferdinand by Ambassador Hamilton …’

Pearce heart leapt; he nearly repeated Naples and Hamilton but stopped himself.

‘… before proceeding to the Gulf of Ambracia to treat with Mehmet Pasha. The captain chosen to head the mission is one Henry Digby, who has just been promoted into a fourteen-gun brig.’

‘Was that your doing too?’ Pearce cut in.

‘I thought it might facilitate the conversation we are having.’ Toomey paused to give his next words real effect. ‘Which is why he now commands the men who were so recently under you.’

‘Have you ever read Machiavelli, Mr Toomey?’

‘If you are asking me if I have the ability to get done that which needs to be done, Mr Pearce, then I think you have just answered yourself.’

It was the opportunity to visit Naples that was the key for Pearce but he could not say so and then there were other matters to consider, which required time to reflect. Somehow he had to put up some kind of show of reluctance and only one came to mind.

‘If I am going to agree then Admiral Hotham must ask me personally.’

‘What!’

‘If he does not you must find someone else.’

Toomey’s shoulders slumped then and he abruptly stopped his pacing. ‘You put it high, sir.’

‘I put it as I require.’

‘I cannot guarantee that he will agree.’

‘I am sure Machiavelli would have found a way. I will wait in the wardroom.’

Which he did not do immediately; waiting till Toomey was in the great cabin he sought out the fellow called Brooks, a man he had come across in his dealings with Lord Hood. Looking up from a sheaf of reports it was clear that the interruption was unwelcome; that did not faze Pearce who made a casual enquiry regarding his facility with French. That established he mentioned Mehmet Pasha and asked Brooks if he had ever communicated with him.

‘What is it to you?’ the clerk asked, adding a sniff of disapproval. ‘I do not discuss official business outside the confines of those officers entitled to know about it, of which you sir, are not one.’

‘Lord Hood mentioned a fellow by that name to me.’

‘I cannot think why.’

Never friendly to this kind of functionary Pearce had
to force himself to be pleasant. ‘It was, I thought, a matter that troubled him.’

‘It was,’ came with an undertone that it was none of his business. ‘Now it falls to Sir William to deal with it. If you wish to know more I should enquire of him!’

‘Just showing an interest, Mr Brooks.’

He left the man wondering on that and made for the wardroom to examine what was being proposed from every angle of which he could think, the thought of Naples a constant intrusion, given he would have a chance of getting ashore and seeing Emily. Henry Digby disapproved of their relationship but then he had no idea she was there, that being a secret Pearce would try to maintain. If he did have to reveal her presence there it would only be with a promise to tell no one.

The person that must be kept from was of course her husband. It was too much of a coincidence that he was now part of Hotham’s fleet. How could the man think that he could get Emily back, indeed he was exposing himself the ridicule he so feared by even trying? Had he told Hotham of his quest? Did the admiral know of how much trouble Pearce could cause and not just for Barclay?

Toomey had gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange matters, but that only became suspicious if certain other pieces of a very tangled enigma fell into place and Pearce could envisage no way in which they would. Brooks had as near as damn it confirmed what Toomey had said so the need for the mission existed; he did have the necessary language skills and was free to be sent.

In the face of no certain knowledge, John Pearce was left with speculation and the prospect of a possible interview
with Hotham so there was a very good chance it would all come to nothing. If not then that would be the time to decide. When the summons came, delivered by a midshipman messenger in a less than discreet manner, he left the wardroom knowing every eye was boring into his back trying to guess the reason.

He entered the cabin to find the admiral staring out of his casement windows and as yet seemingly unprepared to acknowledge his visitor. Pearce took in the nature of the well-appointed cabin; the highly polished furniture, the deep red leather of the chairs and casements, the large bowl of fruit that stood as a centrepiece on the round table obviously employed as a place to work.

The cabin was dominated by a full-length portrait of the man himself in a heavy velvet cloak, the star and sash of his Order of the Bath set against a snow-white waistcoat and breeches. Hotham was a good-looking man if short, and in his representation confident, his eyes as blue as his admiral’s coat, his wig as bleached as the clouds that scudded across the sky behind him, the cheeks full and well fed. The face was, if not pale, free of the ravages of a life spent at sea and Pearce recalled that of every naval representation he had seen – admittedly not many – the countenance of the sitter had been made more pallid than reality. Another feature was the look into the distance, eyes fixed on some object not visible to those it aimed to impress.

Hotham finally spoke without turning round. ‘I doubt you have any idea how unpleasant I find this.’

Then let us put you to the test Pearce thought. ‘It is my sincere hope that it is wrenching at your vitals, sir.’

‘Sir Hyde Parker told me of the way you used to
address Lord Hood. I always swore if you talked to me in a like manner then I would see you keelhauled.’ That was embellishment and Pearce took it as such, declining to respond, which obliged Hotham to speak on. ‘However, the needs of the service must take precedence over my feelings. I need the same qualities that so impressed Lord Hood and if it must be me who asks you to volunteer for the task Toomey outlined to you then so be it.’

Circumlocution Pearce thought and he was tempted to force Hotham to ask in a less equivocal manner. But that would only engender more hot air so he gave an answer that contained his own qualifications.

‘Since I doubt you wish to advance my career in any other way I am near bound to accept.’