The Devil to Pay

by David Donachie

  ‘That is why he is here,’ Hotham exclaimed. ‘He must know where she is.’

  ‘I think the only person who will know that, given Mrs Barclay is no longer in Leghorn, is John Pearce and my guess would be either Naples or Palermo.’

  ‘You will have to make these enquiries, Toomey, I cannot be seen to.’

  ‘Of course, sir,’ Toomey replied, suppressing a sigh, it being ever thus, while also wondering if there was anyone Hotham did not see as a potential enemy. ‘But might I suggest you request Captain Barclay to come aboard at a slightly earlier hour so that you may appraise him of your intentions.’

  ‘There no other way, I suppose?’

  ‘Best he hears it from your own lips that Pearce is here and in private, from which, if he is after his wife, he will deduce that she is in the region, which obviates the need for you to open on the matter. As for your being at any risk from Captain Barclay in the future, that is a situation that we can deal with should the need arise. Our primary concern must be the furtherance of that which we have discussed already.’

  ‘I have gnawed on this too long, Toomey, it is time to act.’

  The clerk approached his admiral and spoke very softly, given there was no more than the overhead planking between this cabin and that of Holloway who, if he was the ship’s captain and one of Hotham close adherents, was not to be privy to secrets. Having spent half the day pondering on what to do, now that Pearce was returned and whole, he had his answers prepared.

  ‘You can arrange Pearce’s court martial this very day if you invite the necessary officers to dine with yourself and Barclay. Your intention to shift Captain Lockhart to HMS Leander creates room for a series of promotions which could see Lieutenant Taberly elevated to Post Rank and given command of a sixth rate, with the subsequent movement of other officers into higher armed vessels.’

  ‘That is a major step, Toomey, and in doing as you say I will have to disappoint others who are committed to me. I also have to worry if London will confirm any of my decisions.’

  ‘I would suggest sir, that given it is your first set of promotions they would hesitate to question your judgement. I have looked at Taberly’s record of service and he has the required sea time and age, while the Admiralty will lack any knowledge of virtues only observable by proximity. We can gild that without too much trouble and talk of some act of gallantry.’

  ‘Go on,’ Hotham said, leaving his clerk unsure if he was in agreement.

  ‘The same series of elevations allow for Digby to be given a non-rated ship with possible elevation to Master and Commander.’

  ‘You have the necessary vessel in mind I hope.’

  ‘I do, sir, the brig HMS Flirt—’

  ‘You do not lack for a sense of irony, do you?’

  ‘In which he will be joined by Pearce, to be despatched on the mission we have agreed upon, and if you consider the possible outcomes, well, I need hardly elaborate.’

  The suggestion required a period of cogitation from Hotham but he finally nodded, albeit with seeming reluctance.

  ‘I was wondering if Taberly, I recall he has the reputation for being a hard bargain, might be a suitable officer to knock the stuffing into Burns.’

  ‘He can knock it out for my part.’

  ‘Added to which if he has been in receipt of a blow from John Pearce, alluded to by Major Lipton, I would suggest they are unlikely to be boon companions.’

  It was necessary to wait while Hotham cogitated on that, but he declined to be drawn by Toomey’s enquiring look. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I would suggest that the crew of Flirt shift with her present captain and the sloop be crewed by those Pearce brought back from HMS Larcher.’

  ‘In God’s name why, man?’

  ‘It was a request made to me by Pearce that his crew should be kept together as a body, no doubt one made by them to him and that means it will automatically include those three fellows from whom you took depositions.’

  ‘It smacks of overindulgence.’

  ‘Yet it may be the very lever that enamours him to the position in which you intend to place him, given as an inferior officer he would not normally be allowed to take any followers to a new ship. Added to which, think on the course HMS Flirt must sail to get to the Adriatic?’

  The subsequent silence was really long, typical of a man who rarely did anything that could be considered rash and when he decided in the affirmative it was indicated by no more than a sharp nod. With a slight feeling of being under-appreciated Toomey felt he had to add something, given he felt Hotham owed him some credit.

  ‘It is a blessing Sir Hyde Parker went home with Lord Hood, sir. Had he been here this would have proved impossible.’

  ‘We are constantly being advised by the chaplain that God is on our side in our endeavours. It is at times like these that I wonder if the man is deluding himself and us.’

  Tempted to respond by saying that the work they were engaged in had more to connect it to the devil than to God, Toomey held his tongue.

  ‘I will send word to Captain Barclay at once, meanwhile can I suggest you must grant Lieutenant Pearce a short interview.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  If what was coming to him would be less than a pleasure, there was some of that in drafting out the orders that would shift commanding officers from one ship to a higher-rated vessel and in the case of Taberly to command of HMS Brilliant. Her present captain, Glaister, would shift to HMS Lutine, which was a thirty-two-gun fifth rate as well as a capture from the enemy, one of the vessels taken out of Toulon at the end of the siege and thus held to be a plum.

  The Master and Commander of the brig HMS Flirt would likewise move to a recently taken enemy ship, an eighteen-gun sloop which, if it was unrated, was larger than his present command, taking with him not just his followers but his entire crew to man her. This would act as a double bonus; captains got to love their crews in many cases, often becoming blind to a good number of their faults. The order to replace him was not yet written out, that would have to wait, as would the required signatures that would turn these documents, once written by a better hand than his own, into reality.

  There was only one fly in the reading of such a document; Hotham might sign at the bottom but when the letter writer composed the official missive it would be Lord Hood whose name featured at the top. It would read:

  By order of the Right Honourable Lord Hood, Knight of The Bath, Vice Admiral of the Red and Commander in Chief of His Majesty’s ships and vessels employed and to deployed in the Mediterranean …

  ‘Enter,’ Hotham called, when the knock came on his door, composing his features into what he hoped appeared to be indifference, not easy since he had carried a look of sour distaste and one, given his felling for his visitor, would have suited him more.

  It would never do to be pleasant to John Pearce; if he were the man would smell a rat but neither could he be sullen. Toomey announced the fellow and Pearce entered to stand before the admiral who studiously kept his gaze on the notes Toomey had provided for him. He also had a report from the master of the flagship which told of Matthew Dorling’s reservations on some of the actions of his captain, though there was an addendum to say that without his acumen – a strange expression – they could never have avoided capture.

  ‘This does not make for pleasant reading, Mr Pearce, but then the loss of one of His Majesty’s ships rarely does.’

  ‘No, sir,’ Pearce replied to the top of Hotham’s head.

  He spoke in a tone that was respectful; he was deep enough in the steep tub with antagonising a man for whom he no regard whatsoever.

  ‘It is however not for me to issue a judgement that will fall to those who sit on your court martial. You have the right to appoint an officer to represent you.’

  ‘I am happy to represent myself, sir.’

  Hotham finally looked up, to meet a very steady gaze that had within it a question but that did nothing to disconcert him; he was after all a
Vice Admiral of the Blue and his visitor a lieutenant of questionable provenance. That this man doubted his impartiality he knew. Let him do so and be surprised.

  ‘You may be aware that you are not among my favourite officers, Pearce. I find the way you came about your present position troubling, given it undermines the very core of the service.’

  ‘A matter, sir, you would be obliged to take up with King George.’

  ‘I daresay I can leave that to others,’ Hotham responded languidly. ‘What I will say to you is this, that you will get as fair a hearing as any other officer unfortunate enough to find themselves in the same position. The loss of a warship is serious, but it is also a hazard of our occupation and I am not going to prejudge the outcome by a long and extensive enquiry of my own.’

  ‘Can I ask who will head the court, sir?’

  ‘That I have not yet decided.’

  The pair locked eyes, which to Hotham’s mind was coming it very high indeed. If he could not see into Pearce’s mind he could certainly guess at his feelings, one of which must be to damn him to his face and tell him to stick his royally gifted rank up his fundament. What he could never have discerned was his dilemma, the fact that being committed to Emily Barclay and given the constraints on his funds and, noted by Davidson, the legal bills he had incurred in pursuit of her husband, not to mention her continued accommodation in Naples, meant he felt committed to keeping his position and his pay.

  ‘I believe I am allowed to object to being judged by certain officers.’

  ‘You are,’ Hotham replied with a knowing smile. ‘And just so you don’t embarrass the process be assured that Captain Barclay will not be one of the examining board.’

  ‘Then do I have permission to depart the flagship?’

  ‘Why would you do that, lieutenant, given the court will sit on the morrow.’

  ‘So soon?’ Pearce asked, genuinely surprised.

  ‘Why not? It would be too trying to keep everyone in suspense. I’m sure the premier will find you a berth; we are, after all, short on our full complement of lieutenants. That will be all Mr Pearce.’

  Out on the main deck Pearce stopped to think and he had much to ponder. Hotham he did not trust at all but there was no way he could fathom to have an effect on his judgement or his actions. Should the court find him guilty of taking excessive risks – and he guessed despite the recent assurances Hotham would bend it to that conclusion – he would be denied further employment with the fleet.

  In truth any place was in Hotham’s gift and he would whistle for anything in that quarter, which would mean he might as well go home, knowing that any chance of future engagement with the navy was just as unlikely there. At least he could badger Pitt and Dundas, the two politicos who had sent him out here in the first place – for some kind of task that carried a stipend, given he felt they owed him a great deal.

  The temptation to throw in the towel before he faced the court was strong but had to be resisted; even a lieutenant’s half pay was worth something and besides, in his contrariness he would take pleasure in seeing the game played out to the end. Perhaps the outcome he knew to be coming was the best solution: to go back to England with Emily and seek some other means of making a crust.

  There were those radical people who thought like his father and had helped both he and his son to flee to Paris from that writ for sedition, the members of the various Corresponding Societies who might aid him in finding paid employment, though he had to consider that his irregular liaison might have a similar effect on them as it had had on Captain Fleming; if such people sought to change society it was in the political sphere not the personal.

  As to his pursuit of Ralph Barclay, that would wither without funds to pay the lawyer he had engaged and he knew for certain the navy would do everything in its power to protect their man, especially if his suit went anywhere near an admiral; added to which, Barclay was now well heeled enough to fund a powerful defence. The cry of Semele from without the entry port, to tell all aboard that the barge carrying the captain of that ship was approaching, had Pearce moving quickly, forced to bustle his way through the folk gathering for the required ceremony.

  Ralph Barclay came aboard with his faithful Devenow at his heels to have his wet boat cloak removed before raising a hat to the invisible quarterdeck, the marines being afforded a perfunctory inspection and their officer the habitual praise for their bearing. He then exchanged pleasantries with John Holloway before making his way aft to enter a cabin in which Admiral Sir William Hotham stood in the company of his clerk.

  ‘Captain Barclay, I asked you to come at an earlier hour because I have something to impart to you that will not make for pleasant listening.’ He then nodded towards Toomey. ‘My chief clerk you will know from previous encounters …’

  ‘Toomey,’ Barclay acknowledged.

  ‘He has, on my behalf, been engaged in some enquiries engendered by rumours that reached my ears.’ He could see Barclay stiffen and the one empty left sleeve seemed to twitch; the man did not like the sound of what he was hearing. ‘I refer to what is a private matter and one in which you have nothing but my deepest sympathy. It is also one I would dearly like to have kept hidden but circumstances do not allow.’

  There could only be one of those so the response was swift, though it was delivered through a constrained throat, struggling to sound normal. ‘If you have knowledge of the whereabouts of my wife, sir, I would be grateful to be told.’

  Hotham seemed to visibly grow with relief; he had been dreading the notion that he might be mistaken, that Barclay had no idea his wife had run off with Pearce. ‘I wondered if you knew.’

  ‘What information do you have, sir?’

  ‘Toomey will tell you.’

  Barclay’s eyes swung to the clerk and lost any notion of respect, not that Toomey was fazed by that; he dealt with post captains all the time and if he was deferential he was never humble. His voice was even as he explained what his enquiries in Leghorn had produced, given with a brief description as to what had led to their initiation, all listened to in silence.

  ‘Is Pearce in Leghorn now?’ Barclay really meant his wife.

  ‘No, sir, he was sent with despatches to Naples.’

  ‘Then I would suggest that given Mrs Barclay left England on his ship, she will have taken passage with him.’

  ‘It is not that simple, sir.’

  ‘Sit down, Captain Barclay, please,’ Hotham said, ‘we have matters to relate to you that I would not want to be overheard.’

  The admiral sat down himself and indicated that the other should join him and once sat he urged them into a proximity in which, once their heads were leant forward, put them close enough together to make their breath mingle. It also permitted Toomey to whisper and the concentration with which Barclay listened impressed him; there was no exclamations, indeed hardly a blink in those steady eyes as what Pearce had been up to was related.

  ‘And he is on Britannia as we speak.’

  ‘He is,’ Hotham acknowledged. ‘Awaiting his court martial, which I intend to convene tomorrow.’

  ‘Then I ask to be allowed to sit on the panel, in fact I would dearly love to head it.’

  ‘No, Barclay,’ Hotham replied but seeing his guest suck in air for a protest was quick to add. ‘And now Toomey is going to explain to you why.’

  As the clerk spoke Barclay dropped his head to listen, once more in deep concentration, only occasionally nodding at some pertinent point like the naming of his nephew, though he could not disguise his surprise that Burns was now entitled to the rank of lieutenant if not one confirmed by the Navy Board.

  He added nothing and entered no suggestions, which intrigued the clerk who was quick to surmise that the man was being excessively cautious. He was being handed a gift of which he had no part in fashioning and therefore no responsibility, which brought back to Toomey’s mind Hotham’s remark about Barclay being a slippery customer; even as he spoke the clerk was thinking that was a matter
which would require some consideration.

  ‘You think this will produce a result?’ he asked when silence fell.

  ‘It is our intention that it should, sir.’

  If his silence did not faze the others they would have been less comfortable at what he was thinking; Hotham had no idea that Pearce had a full transcript of the court martial, a copy he could only have got through Samuel Hood or someone very close to him indeed and all Barclay’s attempt to recover it had failed. If the admiral found out would he been so keen to still support him? It must have taken some guile to get hold of that copy, which led him to point out a very pertinent fact.

  ‘Do not underrate Pearce, sir. Much as I hate the sod he is no fool.’

  The response from Hotham was rather testy. ‘If you can contrive a better solution, Captain Barclay, I would be glad to hear of it. We have expended much thought and consideration on this matter and while I will grant you there is no guarantee it will solve the entire conundrum it stands a very good chance of doing so.’

  ‘Is Digby essential?’

  ‘Sir William cannot be seen to give Pearce a command, not after the loss of HMS Larcher, regardless of how the verdict of the court is worded. Also, as you know, they have served together before on an independent cruise.’

  ‘He might decline the appointment,’ Barclay mused.

  ‘We think,’ Toomey hissed, ‘we have the means to persuade him to it.’

  Waiting for the inevitable question, Toomey was disappointed, though that was not the emotion he felt. Barclay did not want to know, which meant he was thinking of any subsequent consequences, a time when he might be asked questions to which he would honestly be able to say he no idea of the answers.

  Again what the man was actually thinking was very different. Barclay only knew Henry Digby as a relatively distant if competent enough inferior, a lieutenant on HMS Brilliant and one it had been convenient to get rid of at Gibraltar, the very place where he had pledged his commitment to Sir William Hotham. If he had been efficient he had not made enough of a mark to impress his then captain to the extent that he could form a judgement as to how he would act in the future. And how close was Digby to Pearce? Enough to take the man’s mistress, his wife, on board perhaps?