Читать книгу King's Ransom - William Speir - Страница 13

The noise in the great hall of St. James Palace faded as the crowd moved through the massive oak doors into the corridor that led to the courtyard. The ambassadors who represented the major European powers walked quickly to their coaches, which were waiting to take them to the ships that would return them to their masters. The coaches for the English dignitaries pulled up to the palace entrance once the ambassadors had left.

Stewards and servants quietly entered and left the hall from their hidden posts. The chairs, wine flagons, serving platters, quills and inkwells strewn around the hall were taken away with as little noise as possible. Soon all that remained in the room from the meeting that had just ended was a large round table in the center with a brightly colored map on it. A well-dressed nobleman stood at the window watching the procession of carriages and escort horses leaving the palace. A tall, tired man sat on the great chair on the dais across the room, looking down at the freshly signed papers he held in his hand.

“Have they all left yet?” the man on the dais asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the nobleman at the window replied, turning to face his king.

King William III of England and Ireland held up the papers in his hands. “I didn’t think we’d have to go through this again so soon, Daniel.”

“No one could foresee Duke Joseph of Bavaria dying of smallpox so soon after the last treaty was signed,” Daniel Finch, the Earl of Nottingham and the Secretary of State for England, said as he walked toward the round table in the center of the hall. “The First Partition Treaty should have settled the issue of Spain for at least another generation.”

“And will the Second Partition Treaty help prevent another war?” the king asked as he unclasped and pushed off his crimson robes-of-state, stepped down off the dais, and walked toward the round table. He stopped across the table from his most trusted advisor.

The earl looked at his king thoughtfully for a moment. The king was a tall, handsome man with dark, shoulder-length hair and piercing eyes that could intimidate the strongest man when the king was angry. The earl noted that the king seemed older and more tired than usual, and he was grateful that the new treaty was signed so the king could get some well-deserved rest.

The large banner hanging behind the throne, with the king’s coat of arms embroidered with gold and colored threads, fluttered slightly behind the king. A draft of chilly late-March air blew through the upper vaults of the chamber, causing the candlelight to dance. It was only because of his friendship with the king that he answered plainly.

“No, Sire. You’ve said it yourself a number of times: Louis of France is ambitious, and Charles of Spain wants a different fate for his kingdom than to be split between the Holy Roman Emperor and France. Your father-in-law and brother-in-law live like kings in Louis’ court and plot with the French to reclaim the throne. You have no friends in France to help curb Louis’ desire for more land, more power, and an end to Protestantism once and for all. You read the report from the spy back in October, and so did I. War is inevitable. It’s just a matter of when – and what will trigger it.”

The king nodded. He set down the papers that he had been holding and looked at the map on the table. To the east, there lay Europe and Africa. To the west lay the Americas. The map had the European and colonial holdings of each of the major powers grouped by color, which made the problem all the more evident. A precarious balance of power existed in Europe, and William III was determined that the balance be maintained.

Charles II, the invalid King of Spain, grew weaker by the day. He had no children to inherit his throne when he died, and that worried the other European rulers. His two closest relatives were Louis XIV of France, from the house of Bourbon, and Leopold I, the Holy Roman Emperor. William III and the rest of the Protestant rulers were determined that Spain wouldn’t pass to either of these relatives.

In October 1698, William and Louis had signed the First Treaty of Partition at The Hague to establish a plan for the division of Spain and its territories upon the death of Charles. Duke Joseph of Bavaria would become Charles’ heir and the next King of Spain, but the other Spanish territories would be divided between Louis and Leopold. Charles had reluctantly agreed to this, and the balance of power appeared to be maintained. William thought that war had been successfully averted.

However, in February 1699, Duke Joseph died suddenly, opening up the issue all over again. The Second Treaty of Partition, which had taken months of negotiation to conclude, had been ratified in the great hall of St. James Palace less than an hour earlier. William looked at his copy of the treaty on the map table in front of him – the signatures and wax seals on their silk ribbons barely dry. Under this new treaty, the Spanish territories in Italy would pass to France and the rest of the territories would pass to the Holy Roman Empire.

Spain wasn’t happy with this arrangement. Charles didn’t want his empire to be broken apart after all the effort it had taken to build and maintain it during the many wars that had raged across Europe over the previous century. Leopold wasn’t happy with the arrangement either, wanting the Italian territories for himself instead of having them go to France. William smiled to himself as he realized that the beauty of the treaty was that no one was completely happy with the terms; each was equally unhappy, thereby maintaining the appearance of fairness and the balance of power.

Most of the wars in Europe for the previous century had been primarily wars of religion, even though the control of various territories was their stated goal. England had suffered through several civil wars because of religion, and the Catholic House of Stuart grew increasingly at odds with its Protestant subjects. The Protestants looked for a way to depose the last Catholic monarch – a king who wanted to be an absolute monarch with no parliament setting limits on his power.

When William, then the Prince of Orange in Holland, married his cousin Mary Stuart, daughter of King James II of England, the Protestants in England saw William as the means to achieve their goals. In 1688, William invaded England at the request of Parliament, and James II fled to France with his Catholic son, James Francis Edward Stuart.

William, wanting to be King of England in his own right, proposed a joint-monarchy to Parliament; he and his wife Mary would share the monarchy and the power. Parliament agreed, and the Protestant reign of William and Mary began. When William left home to fight the many wars against France, Mary reigned as monarch. However, when William returned home, Mary relinquished power to her husband and allowed him to rule. The arrangement worked well for both of them and for the country.

When Mary died in 1694, William felt a great sense of loss. Mary had been his partner in ruling the country and had a great mind for strategy in both domestic and international affairs. They had no children, so the heir to the throne was Mary’s Protestant sister, Anne Stuart. But William’s father-in-law and brother-in-law were just across the Channel in France, waiting for their chance to return and reclaim the throne that William had taken from them. Yes, war was inevitable. All it needed was a trigger.

Pointing at the map, he asked, “How do we prevent it?”

“I really don’t think we can, Sire,” the earl replied after a moment.

“Then what do we do? Just sit here and wait for the next unexpected event to upset the balance of power all over again? Or do we start openly preparing for a coming war, which will then invite our enemies to do the same and end up leading us all into the very war we’re trying to avoid?”

William was tired of war, and he knew that the country was equally tired. Wars were expensive – both in the cost to mount a military campaign and in the loss of life. If sufficient spoils weren’t seized during the campaign, a war could end up bankrupting a country, leaving it open for invasion and yet another war. The last wars had taken their toll on the treasury, and William wanted to give his people a break from the constant fighting. England was a tiny country compared to the rest of Europe, although its colonial holdings were second only to Spain. The fighting ability of its people and the strength of its Navy kept the country safe, but there were limits. William worried that the country wasn’t ready to be pulled into another costly conflict with France.

The earl looked at the map intently. An idea had been forming in his mind, but he wasn’t sure it was developed enough to bring it up yet.

William saw his friend struggling with something and said, “Out with it, Daniel. What’s on your mind?”

The earl pointed to the Americas. “I think the key is here, Sire.”

William moved around the table to stand next to the earl. “Go on,” he said.

“We both know Louis wants control of the Spanish colonies in the Americas. Their wealth could finance a dozen wars against us – possibly even to victory. Spain’s military is spread thin trying to protect its colonies from us, from the Dutch, from pirates, and from the American natives. They don’t have enough of a navy left to protect their treasure fleets, and soon they’ll have to turn to France for help. Once that happens, you know a fair bit of the treasure will wind up in Louis’ coffers instead of Charles’. What we need to do is to stop, or at least reduce, the flow of treasure from the Americas to Spain and France.”

“You mean you want more privateers to harass the Spanish treasure ships?” William asked.

Privateers were authorized by Letters of Marque from the king to raid the merchant ships of other nations. Unlike pirates, who kept their plunder and promptly wasted it on gambling, carousing, and wenching, privateers turned over the bulk of their plunder to the king, keeping a portion for themselves to pay for the voyages and make the risk worthwhile. Privateers had been used by European monarchs for centuries as a way to steal wealth from their neighbors without an open declaration of war.

Several treaties to limit or abolish the use of privateers had been signed and broken over the years. The Spanish treasure fleets presented too inviting a target for any monarch or privateer to ignore. William already had a number of privateers in the Americas to prey upon French and Spanish shipping, as well as Dutch shipping.

Being Dutch himself, William often felt pangs of guilt about allowing Dutch merchant ships to be raided, but William needed the revenue. The Dutch had discovered ways to remain incredibly profitable in the Americas even during the worst conflicts, sometimes by supplying both sides with military stores.

“I’m not certain that privateers alone can do what needs to be done, Sire,” the earl replied, still looking down at the map. “We may need a stronger solution.”

“What are you suggesting, Daniel? That I send a naval squadron or two over there? If I send warships in to start attacking French and Spanish shipping, I’ll be the one who broke the treaty this time. I’ll be the one who starts the next war!”

The earl turned to face his sovereign and saw the concern on William’s face. Making a quick decision, he presented his idea.

A steward quietly entered the room, placed a wine flagon and two goblets on a side table, and quickly exited the hall. The two men talking didn’t even notice.

After several minutes, the earl fell silent. He watched the king’s face, trying to gauge what the king’s reaction would be.

William stared at his Secretary of State with a mixture of shock and disbelief. The earl’s plan was perhaps the most preposterous thing that anyone had ever suggested to him.

“Are you completely mad?!” the king demanded.

To the king’s surprise, the earl seemed to relax at this question. “I’m relieved you think so, Sire.”

“Why?” the king asked, confused by the earl’s reply.

“Because if you think that I’m mad for suggesting it, the other European monarchs will also think the idea’s mad and never suspect that you’re behind it. It’s supposed to be a very un-English idea, after all. It’s never been done, and if it’s done right you’ll have no problems being believed when you deny all knowledge of it.”

The king thought about this for a moment. The earl was right; no monarch would suspect England of doing anything this bold or dangerous. It was an act of war, but it was disguised in such a way that it had the potential to either delay the coming war or help in England’s preparation for war.

William turned away and walked toward the window in silence, deep in thought. Had anyone else made the suggestion, the king would have had him removed from his presence forever, but the earl was his closest friend and advisor. The king actually found himself working on the details of how the plan would need to be carried out.

The earl, seeing the flagon of wine that had been brought in, walked over to the side table, poured wine into the two goblets, and joined the king at the window. The two friends drank in silence, watching the sun setting in the distance.

As the shadows in the room lengthened, the king made a decision. “How long will it take to put things in motion?” he asked.

“I’m not certain. I think we need to involve one more person in our little conspiracy.”

The king nodded, taking another drink of wine. “Send someone to fetch the First Lord of the Admiralty. Something tells me there’s no time to lose.”

Sir John Egerton, Knight of the Bath, 3rd Earl of Bridgewater and First Lord of the Admiralty, locked the door of his office at the far end of the main corridor of the Navy offices. The sound of the bolt sliding into place echoed off the wood and plaster of the long, empty hallway. He walked down the corridor toward his carriage, lost in thought. He heard someone running toward him. Turning, he saw a young man wearing the livery of a royal page.

“Lord Egerton,” the page said when he reached First Lord of the Admiralty. “The king requests your presence at the palace at once.”

“Did he say why?” Egerton asked.

“No, my Lord. He just said to have you fetched immediately.”

Egerton nodded. He followed the page down the corridor and outside. He descended the steps and climbed into his carriage as the page mounted the horse tied to the post next to the base of the steps. “I will escort you, my Lord,” the page said, urging the horse forward and setting off toward the palace. Egerton’s driver followed the page, and the First Lord of the Admiralty realized the driver had already been told of the summons.

As the carriage approached St. James Palace, Egerton saw the remains of the ruins of Whitehall Palace in the distance. One of the largest palaces in the world, Whitehall had burned to the ground two years earlier, and the cleanup hadn’t yet been completed. Even though the fire appeared to be accidental, rumors continued to circulate about Jacobite involvement. The Jacobites were comprised of a group of English, Scottish and Irish Catholics determined to restore James II to the throne. Why they’d want to destroy the palace that James II loved so much was the question keeping the king’s soldiers from rounding up all the Jacobites that they could find. But the rumors persisted.

Jacobite spies in London, in the Navy offices, and even in the palace itself, kept James and Louis XIV well-informed about what happened in England. Military secrets were always the hardest to keep, but Egerton hated not knowing whom to trust on his own staff. Someday I’ll need to ferret them out and deal with them. He turned away from the eerie silhouette of the ruins.

The king had moved his residence to nearby Kensington Palace several years before the fire because Whitehall’s closeness to the river aggravated his breathing. The government offices had to be moved from Whitehall to St. James Palace after the fire. Normally, only public events were held there. Egerton didn’t know of any event taking place at the palace that evening, and he wondered why he had received such an urgent summons.

Egerton watched the guards snap to attention as his carriage passed the arched entrance leading to the palace’s main grounds and slowed to a stop in front of the main entrance. In the dimming light, he saw that the ground had been disturbed from the passage of a great many horses and carriages. The new treaty was supposed to be signed today. Could something have gone wrong?

The page escorted Egerton into the palace and down the hallways to the great hall. The page knocked on one of the large iron-banded wood doors and heard someone shout, “Enter,” from inside the hall.

The page opened the door and entered with Egerton following quickly behind. Both men bowed. “The First Lord of the Admiralty as commanded, Your Majesty,” the page announced.

“Thank you, Peter,” the king said.

“Yes, Sire,” the page responded, exiting the hall and closing the door behind him.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, my Lord,” William said, motioning for Egerton to approach the table. “Have you had any supper?”

“No, Sire,” Egerton responded.

The king motioned toward several platters of food that had been brought in while he and the earl waited for Egerton to arrive. “Then you’d better eat something. It could be a late night, and an empty stomach won’t help our discussions.”

“Thank you, Sire,” Egerton said, reaching for a plate. “Good evening, my Lord,” he said to the earl, who stood behind the king.

The earl returned the greeting and offered Egerton a goblet of wine. Egerton accepted, and once he had loaded his plate, the king motioned for the two men to join him at the round table in the middle of the hall.

“My Lord,” the king said to Egerton, “We have a rather strange matter we wish to discuss with you. It’s unorthodox, it’s very dangerous, and it’s decidedly not in the English tradition. By the time we all leave this room, we need a workable plan, and we need all the necessary orders drafted and ready to send out.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Egerton said, trying to keep his voice sounding steady. “Whatever I or your Navy can do to help you, you have only to ask.” What are they planning?

“Good,” the king responded. Turning to the earl, he said, “Daniel, why don’t you tell the First Lord of the Admiralty your idea and what will be required of my Navy.”

Madness! Complete, total, and utter madness! No matter how many times Egerton replayed the king’s plan in his mind, he kept reaching the exact same conclusion. Madness!

The sky lightened with the approaching dawn as Egerton’s carriage raced back to the offices of the Navy. He had spent most of the night with the king and the Secretary of State. For hours, they discussed, debated, and worked out the details of the single most audacious plan that he had ever heard: commit an act of war in such a way that it doesn’t look like an act of war, in order to deprive the enemy of its ability to make war.

In spite of his belief that the plan was madness, he felt a strange excitement about it. It was so unexpected that it could very well succeed. And even if it were only partially successful, it could be enough to make a significant difference in the coming war.

His carriage bounced along in the morning light. The king is right. War is coming, and we have to do everything we can to prepare ourselves while confounding the enemy.

Egerton had left the palace with stacks of notes and written orders. He had the high-level components of the plan worked out, but it needed more detail. And it needed someone to carry out the plan. At Egerton’s request, riders had been dispatched several hours earlier to Portsmouth to summon Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell, who commanded the English Navy’s Blue Squadron. Egerton knew that Shovell could take the high-level plan and develop something that could be executed successfully. Shovell’s second-in-command, Rear-Admiral Charles Leicester, was also summoned. Egerton knew that the two men together could make the plan a reality and implement it quickly.

As his carriage pulled up to the Navy offices, he was grateful that he had eaten breakfast during the meeting so he could start work immediately. He got out of the carriage and hurried up the stairs just as the sun rose above the trees and bathed the courtyard in bright light. Even though he hadn’t slept in more than a day, he felt more and more energetic as he approached his offices – his mind completely focused on the task at hand. There’s so much to do and so little time to get the preparations finished.

Admiral Shovell and Rear-Admiral Leicester arrived at the Navy office in London just after sunset the next day.

“Thank you for getting to London so quickly, gentlemen,” Egerton said as the two men were ushered into his office.

Shovell and Leicester followed Egerton into a large meeting room. Covering the oak-paneled walls were paintings of naval engagements. A painting of the king hung over the fireplace at the far end of the room. A large table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by several chairs covered in a deep red fabric. Egerton poured and handed both men a glass of sherry before pouring himself a glass.

“Gentlemen, the king,” Egerton said, raising his glass.

“The king,” they intoned before draining their glasses. Egerton refilled the glasses and motioned for them to sit down.

The two men had just returned with the Blue Squadron from its normal patrol duties when the king’s riders arrived and summoned them to London. Both men quickly issued orders to the squadron’s captains and arranged for a carriage to be prepared for the journey. They made good time up to London but were fatigued from the bouncing of the fast-moving carriage.

Both men sat down as stewards brought in food and wine. Once they were alone, Egerton closed and locked the conference room door before joining them at the table.

“Gentlemen, I know you’ve had a hard journey, but I need your help with something. We have a lot of work to do and painfully little time to get it done.”

“Is there a problem, my Lord?” Shovell asked.

Egerton leaned back in his chair, sipping his sherry. “Not so much a problem as you mean it, but rather an opportunity to prevent a problem. However, the opportunity will present several challenges that we have to work out before we leave this room. By the time you two return to Portsmouth, we have to have a plan finalized and ready to implement immediately.”

Egerton paused a moment before continuing. “Now before we go any further, I need to tell you that this comes directly from His Majesty, and he’s depending on us. We have his full support and trust, but he demands that we conduct this business in total secrecy. No one outside the specific individuals directly involved may have any knowledge of this plan. Shovell, you will have the overall command of this… this venture. You will take orders regarding the venture only from me, my successor, and His Majesty. I am giving you complete discretion in how the venture will be carried out, but with that comes complete accountability for its ultimate success or failure. This will be very dangerous – not only for the men selected, but for the country if the plan is ever uncovered. Understood?”

Both men nodded in agreement.

“Very well. Let me lay it all out for you.”

Two days later, the carriage carrying Shovell and Leicester back to Portsmouth turned onto the London-Portsmouth road as the sun rose over the palace. The two men sat in silence – deep in thought. Shovell’s mind was working out detail after detail for the fifth time to make certain that nothing had been overlooked.

After an hour, Shovell looked over to his subordinate with a wry grin. “We’ve been handed an interesting one, haven’t we, Charles?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” Leicester replied. “Have you decided on the ship yet?”

Shovell nodded. “Yes, the Peregrine Galley. She should have been delivered by the time we arrive. She’s a 22-gun 6th Rate 3-masted frigate that’s the first of two of the new “runner class” ships being built at Deptford. Her sister ship won’t be finished for another few months. She’s fast, maneuverable, and not so large that she’ll attract the wrong kind of attention.”

“Has she been assigned a captain yet?”

Shovell shook his head. “Not yet. I wanted to put her through her sea trials before deciding if she’s to be assigned to the fleet or used for escort duty. That would have helped determine the captain best suited for her.”

“Do you have someone in mind for the mission?”

“Yes I do. The entire crew will be selected from the Blue Squadron, so it’s a good thing the squadron’s in port right now. I agree with Egerton that every member of the crew needs to be handpicked for his skills and talents. They also need to be unmarried with no children. They’ll be gone for several years, assuming they come back at all. We need men on this mission who have no family to leave behind. They also need a captain who’s a competent seaman, superb leader, brilliant strategist, and ruthless warrior – someone who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, but someone who won’t lose sight of what the mission is and what’s expected of him. He needs to be someone who knows how to be discreet, has a flair for the unconventional, is fearless, and can handle being out of touch with the chain of command for years without going completely dodgy and forgetting that he’s an officer in His Majesty’s Navy.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about Hastings, sir,” Leicester commented.

Turning to look at his subordinate, Shovell smiled. “I am. Our young Captain Henry Hastings is the perfect man for the job. He’s one of the most gifted warriors I’ve ever seen. He’s a quick thinker, he’s unpredictable, he’s creative – everything the French and Spanish would never expect and someone they wouldn’t easily be able to defeat.”

Leicester nodded. Then he said, “Do you think it’s wise to let the ship keep her name, given what her service is going to be?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Shovell replied. “I think we’re going to have to give her another name – one better suited to her mission and the reputation she needs to earn where she’s being sent. Peregrine Galley can go to her sister ship when she’s completed.”

“What name do you have in mind, sir?”

“I’m thinking of rechristening her the King’s Ransom.”