by Peter Greene
With that, the three strode out of the chamber, leaving the bloated admirals to decide if, indeed, they were truly on their way to the King.
“Send a guard to follow them,” ordered Barrow. Worthing, now visibly nervous and pale, silently but quickly walked out.
The carriage clopped along the Bath Road on the way to Windsor Castle. The men inside were both laughing and nervous at the same time. The admirals had reacted to their mission in an unbelievable way. Walker was being punished for losing the Poseidon, receiving no credit for successfully capturing the much larger Danielle or for retrieving the treasure worth close to a million British pounds. Nathaniel Moore was being held up at captain and was not to receive his promotion to Admiral. It could not have gone any worse.
“Gorman,” Captain Moore said, “I believe you slightly stretched the truth about your duty to the King.”
“How so, Captain?” Gorman asked.
“Do you indeed report to him all the details of your missions, their outcomes, and the results of board reviews?”
Gorman looked out the window and stared at the passing park. Most of the trees had lost their leaves, and the flowers had all wilted from the cold winter nights. A cool drizzle was beginning to fall. It was not quite cold enough for snow, nor warm enough for a stroll. Typical London weather.
“I have met the King on a few occasions,” Gorman said, smiling, “though my field reports are usually given to his aides. I certainly don’t report the outcomes of the Admiralty board’s decisions. Ha-ha! Though the bloated admirals don’t know that.” He then motioned with his hand pointing to the rear of the carriage. “When their little spy who is clumsily following us—”
All looked out the window to see a carriage following close behind them. Inside were clearly Worthing and another man, a young officer. They turned their heads when they noticed they had been discovered.
“—sees us turn onto the Long Walk leading to the Castle, they will quickly reverse the decision. If not, I have enough dirt on them both to change the outcome. Oh, it is a great thing to be in the catbird’s seat, as the Americans say.”
Windsor Castle
Within moments the carriage had reached the Long Walk leading to Windsor Palace. As it turned onto the path, Jonathan and Sean were stunned into silence. The road led directly onward in a straight line for what seemed like a mile, flanked by a field of unblemished snow on either side that continued for a hundred feet. There, a border of enormous trees planted in straight lines created a wall that announced the beginning of the forest.
“Will ya look at that!” said Sean as he looked forward.
Ahead of them upon the top of a low rise was the most incredible castle. Wide and high it stood, with great white stones for its strong walls reaching up over four stories. Parapets sat atop the structure like a king’s crown. Tall, arched windows accented the façade, and a great iron fence and gate surrounded the structure. It was watched over by Royal Guards standing just past the gate next to a great, dark, wooden door.
Surprisingly, there was a small crowd waiting there by the gate.
It must be for the King, thought Jonathan. Maybe he will greet us at the door so people can get a good look at him.
But as they opened the door to leave the carriage, the small group started to cheer. Some called out to them, others waved. “Huzzah! Huzzah!” shouted the few Navy men within the crowd.
“This is for us?” asked Jonathan.
“Do not let it go to your head, son,” his father warned. “Keep your mind sharp and wits sharper. An audience with the King is also serious business, and it would be best if you and Sean would address him as ‘Your Majesty,’ if you must speak at all.”
“Aye, sir,” the boys said, observing the crowd.
Suddenly, Jonathan met eyes with a young man in the gathering. Unlike the other smiling and cheering faces, this one was scowling and had part of his face covered by a hood and scarf. Their eyes met for a moment longer and then—he was gone. He had either moved behind someone else in the crowd, or had hastily run away.
3
Audience with George
They entered the palace, removing their hats and remaining as silent as they could. A doorman escorted them inside and, as they were expected and prompt, they were directed down a long hallway to a sitting room. Though it seemed that some of the castle was undergoing repairs, they still marveled at the fancy wallpaper and luxurious furnishings as they waited for their audience. Shortly, they were greeted by a servant, though a very important one.
“Good day, Captains, young sirs,” he said. “I am the King’s personal secretary, Army Colonel Herbert Taylor. His Majesty will receive you in a moment. Please make yourselves comfortable and excuse the condition of the receiving room. We are renovating. Do you require anything?”
Captain Gorman spoke for the group and said everything and everyone was perfectly all right. They required nothing at the moment.
After Taylor left them, the boys practiced their bows, had their jackets brushed by Walker, Gorman, and Captain Moore repeatedly, and were told to stand up straighter than was humanly possible. Soon, Harrison and Langley appeared, and the tale of the Admiralty was told. Both agreed that this was a shocking development, that something was behind it, and that it certainly would not stand.
“We will make sure that something is done,” said Captain Moore.
The boys then asked about Harrison’s Christmas meal and his family.
“There was much eating and some drinking as well. I do like a proper ale and a goose when I can get one! It seems that you boys also had enough to suit you?”
They each agreed and described each present and each dessert in minute detail. Jonathan wanted to mention to Harrison that his father was not going to allow him back on a ship, but this was not the best place to have that conversation. It still weighed on his mind and he was not sure how to change his father’s decision. For now, he would let that concern rest.
Colonel Taylor returned to lead them into a large room with wooden paneling, a high ceiling, and grayish lace curtains that haphazardly covered the windows. A few chairs had been covered with what looked to be bedsheets—all signs of the renovation. The chairs faced a raised platform, much like a smaller version of the poop deck of the Danielle, and on the platform was a great chair. To each side were two servants, dressed in frilly red and gold jackets. They stared ahead, unmoving.
There, wearing a white wig, was a tall, stately-looking man in a red coat much like Captain Gorman’s, yet longer and trimmed in bright gold. His forehead was high, his eyes wide and expressive. His nose was slightly large, but not ugly by any means, and his lips were small, yet rosy. He looked up from a plate of fruit and cheese and wiped his chin daintily with a white napkin.
“Spe-len-did! Spe-len-did!” he said, voice booming as he pronounced the word as if it had three syllables.
“Your Majesty,” Colonel Taylor said. “May I present to you the heroes of HMS Danielle. First, Captain William Walker.”
Walker walked ahead a bit, but stopped at a considerable distance away from the King and bowed slightly, extending one leg forward. Jonathan and Sean watched, knowing that they would need to perform the same bow. And even though they had practiced for at least an hour this morning, well, it is the King of England! they thought. We had better bow as well as we can!
Next, Captain Gorman was introduced, then Jonathan’s father, then Harrison and Langley. Finally Colonel Taylor said:
“May I present to his Royal Highness, Midshipman Jonathan Moore, instrumental in the retrieval of the treasure and in the dispatching of the French Captain?”
Jonathan walked up to where the others had stopped, well short of the throne, and he bowed as pretty as you please. He looked the King right in the eye and said, for some unfathomable reason:
“Nice to meet you, Your Highness.”
The room was shocked into silence. Even Sean knew one was not supposed to address the King until he specifica
lly asked a question of you. Jonathan quickly realized that he had made a mistake and bowed again as if to say “May I start over?” He was terribly embarrassed and began shaking all over. Jonathan kept his gaze to the ground and waited a moment.
“Ha ha!” said the King, laughing. “Spe-len-did, this one is! And it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Jonathan Moore. And who is that behind you?”
Jonathan assumed the King was asking him a question, so he responded.
“This, Your Majesty, is able seaman Sean Flagon. He is my best friend and actually made a bomb while he was captive aboard the Danielle, using it to great effect to slow the ship so that we in the Poseidon could catch up. Come on, Sean!” Jonathan said, waving his friend up to the imaginary line. Sean quickly rushed up, made a hasty bow, then remained stooped as he retreated back to where he had started. He felt safer just a little bit away from the King.
“Very well then!” said the King. “I have heard some details, mostly about the fact that you found the treasure and brought it home! However, no one told me of the bomb! That is quite good! And I assume, Captain Walker, that the battle was ferocious, was it not?”
“Yes it was, Your Majesty,” answered Walker. The room lapsed into silence.
“Is there anyone who can give me the details? I do so love a good accounting of my ships!”
“But of course, Your Majesty,” answered Walker, who then, very briefly, told the King the finer points, turn for turn, of the battle and the final minutes of the Poseidon as they abandoned ship and took the Danielle.
“Ah, well Captain Walker, sometimes you have to spend a ship or two to win the war. A fine trade in any case. I understand the Danielle is quite a ship, is she not?”
“She is a most seaworthy lady and a fine fighter,” Walker said. “I wish I could continue commanding her myself. Alas, this is not to be as I have been informed just this morning by the Admiralty. I am to remain without a ship for the foreseeable future.”
The King furrowed his brow and looked sideways at the Captain. He did not seem pleased. Of course, Walker was using this discussion to his advantage and was springing a trap on Barrow and Worthing.
“Without a ship? My best fighting Captain? Moore, you are privy to the workings of the Admiralty. Explain this.”
“By all means, Your Highness,” responded Captain Moore. “It seems that some in the Admiralty believe that Captain Walker somehow made an error in losing the Poseidon. They believe he could have somehow beaten the Danielle, retained his ship, and also retrieved the treasure.”
The King showed his discontent clearly on his face. He started shaking his head.
“I am no man of the sea, but I know poppycock when I hear it. What is your opinion, Captain Moore?”
“It is my opinion, having faced the Danielle and her escorts, that she is overpowering when compared to the Poseidon. Even with half her guns, the Danielle is a tough match. Captain Walker fared better than any other against her. He deserves our—”
“By all means!” bellowed the King. “Which imbecile made this determination?”
“That would be two imbeciles, Your Highness,” answered Captain Moore. “Admiral Barrow and Admiral Worthing.”
Gorman was visibly shaking with laughter, and a squeak popped out as he was trying to conceal his joy. The plan had worked better than he could have imagined. All soon looked at him, even the King.
“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” Gorman said, trying to regain his composure, “I—ahem—” He coughed a few times. “I seem to have got a tickle in my throat. Ever so sorry.”
He was handed a small glass of water by one of the servants, and the King continued.
“Herbert, I want to see those Admirals tomorrow morning! I will have them replaced immediately!” commanded the King, looking at Captain Moore directly. “Now, where should we send them?”
“If I may suggest, Your Highness,” said Gorman, interrupting, “Australia is in need of assistance. All those criminals there. Quite an unpleasant position, but someone has to do it.”
The King pondered this for a moment, then smiled. “I do like the idea of that. Yes, Australia it is. Now on to other business. I have also heard there was an interesting development in the actual procurement of the treasure?”
“If Your Majesty would permit,” suggested Walker, “Midshipman Moore could inform you of the final minutes of his confrontation with the French Captain Champagne.”
The King was visibly excited and turned to face Jonathan.
Jonathan’s heart raced for a moment. He was now to address the King directly for the second time. It’s now almost a conversation, he thought. This is an important moment. I had better perform well. A deep breath should help.
So he drew in air and began somewhat nervously. As he noticed the King listening and enjoying the tale, he relaxed and effortlessly told of the search for the skull, the finding of the treasure, and the unfortunate appearance of Champagne.
“I suggested in a secret sort of way, that Captain Gorman here should deliver the treasure to Champagne right away! Which he did by—”
“Wait a minute!” said the King. “I think I know! You tossed the heavy chest into Champagne’s boat . . . and it sank!”
“His Majesty is correct!” laughed Jonathan, happily.
“Spe-len-did!” said the King. “Ingenious idea, young man! Then what happened?”
Sean, now with his guard down and feeling more at ease, jumped right in and took up the tale. The other men, seeing that the King was enjoying the young boys, allowed them to continue and even smiled a bit as they told the tale.
“The sharks did the rest, Your Majesty,” said Sean, inching his way closer. “Chewed them right up. Jonathan turned away, but I had to watch. Fascinating and horrible at the same time. ‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man,’ I said at the time!” Sean then laughed aloud, and shortly the King and the rest were all laughing together.
“I do love a successful mission—don’t we all? Well, well, well. I am proud of you. All of you. England is grateful for your service. I am of a mind to reward your loyalty and dedication. Captain Moore, you are being considered for promotion, I understand, so I am not sure what else you would want, hmm?”
“Your Majesty,” said Nathaniel Moore, “just to serve you in the Royal Navy, in any capacity, is reward enough. If I could do so forever, I would be a happy man.”
The King smiled and then simply said, “I cannot control all the fates of time. But I can . . . persuade . . . some at Whitehall. So be it. You are to be my personal adjunct to the Admiralty, and you can choose any assignment you desire. Herbert, make sure this is communicated to all the proper channels.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Herbert said as he jotted notes on a ledger book he carried in his hand. Captain Moore was shocked at the King’s generosity and hesitated to bring up the point that he had effectively been turned down for a position as Admiral just this morning. He glanced at Walker, who motioned with a nod for him to bring up the subject. Luckily, Gorman was attentive as usual and spoke first.
“As adjunct, Your Majesty, it is customary for the rank of your servant to be an Admiral. That would require a promotion for the modest Captain Moore.”
“Now I believe,” said the King, surprised, “that you were already up for promotion, Captain Moore. It was in all the papers. You were to become Admiral rank. What is the issue?”
“It is the imbeciles, Your Majesty,” said Gorman, “Barrow and Worthing seem to have forgotten the service Captain Moore has rendered to the Crown. Sinking several frigates and damaging a third-rate man of war is not accomplishment enough for them, I assume. They have, quite frankly, halted the promotion as of this morning.”
“What in the name of heaven is going on in that building? I will address this at the earliest opportunity!” shouted the King. “Do they not know there is a war on?”
“Pardon them,” Gorman said. “They are only imbeciles.”
“Colonel Herbert, take a no
te!” said the King, flustered and angry. “Now, I will remedy that situation shortly. Walker, what can I do for you?” asked the King. “It has been suggested that a knighthood is in order, and I couldn’t agree more. How do you hold with that?”
“Whatever pleases Your Majesty. I am but a humble servant,” said Walker, politely bowing.
Jonathan knew what Walker really wanted and believed that it must be told to the King.
“Your Majesty?” Jonathan called out.
“Jonathan! Please know your place!” his father said quickly.
But the King held up his hand for silence. He looked at Jonathan and smiled.
“I have a feeling that the younger Moore is not aware of the proper protocol when discussing state matters with the King of England. There are some finer points of order he is unfamiliar with. Speaking his mind.”
“I am so sorry, Your Majesty,” his father said, bowing. “He has been away for a long time—lost actually. Please accept my apologies—”
“Nonsense!” said the King. “It is refreshing to hear the bare truth from time to time. Midshipman, what is it that Captain Walker really wants, eh?” The King smiled in a humorously evil way.
Jonathan smiled as well. “Your Majesty, I know all the desires of everyone in this room, except for Captain Gorman, who is secretive and mysterious and therefore hard to peg. But I do know that Captain Walker wishes to have a fast ship, cruise for battle, and win prizes! I hear he earns a small amount for each French ship he captures, and he is good enough to share it with the crew! His wife told me he has gotten more than most captains. That is how he has obtained such a beautiful home! You actually must go and see it!”
“I will take that as an invitation!” exclaimed the King, smiling at Jonathan the whole time. “Captain Walker has mentioned a desire to stay in command of the Danielle so we will make him a Knight of the Realm and give him command of his favorite ship. Herbert, take a note and express my orders at the Admiralty. Captain Moore, as my adjunct, we will have him accountable to you directly.”