The Rising Storm

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The Rising Storm Page 51

by Dennis Wheatley


  In consequence, Roger, being reluctant to waste a whole day, decided that the best course was to go down to see him in the country. So, returning to Amesbury House, he had a horse saddled and rode through Southwark, down the Old Kent Road, to Bromley. A few miles beyond the village he came to Mr. Pitt’s country home and, having had himself announced, was shown through into the garden.

  There he found the tall, lean, worn-looking Prime Minister admiring his crocuses and daffodils. He smiled as Roger approached and asked: “Well, Mr. Brook, am I to take this as a social call?”

  Roger bowed. “Nay, sir. I would not be guilty of such boldness. It is that I am about to set out for Spain.”

  Mr. Pitt raised his eyebrows. “Is it not a little much to assume my forgiveness; and by so bald an announcement take it for granted that although a month has elapsed since we last met, I am still willing to give you my instructions?”

  “I made no such assumption, sir; and while I should be delighted to be received back into your good graces, I did not come here to ask forgiveness.”

  Giving him an amused look, the Prime Minister remarked: “Humility has never been one of your outstanding attributes, Mr. Brook; but as I have little use for that quality myself I do not think the less of you for that. Since we are such a stiff-necked pair, I will for once incline my own head a trifle. Your reports from Paris have turned out considerably better than I had any reason to suppose would be the case. Mark you, I still most strongly disapprove of the manner in which you involved yourself with the Queen and her Austrian friends. And I equally disapprove your secret understanding with that rogue de Talleyrand-Périgord. But your information about de Mirabeau was correct, and your general assessment upon numerous other matters shows that you did not allow yourself to be fooled. In view of that, and your having thought better of the pigheadedness you displayed in February, we will let bygones be bygones.”

  Roger’s hopes first thing that morning for such an outcome to this interview had been only slender ones, and the nearer he got to Bromley the more they had tended to decrease; so his reaction was all the greater and, being no more given to hypocrisy than to humility, he expressed his gratitude and pleasure in no uncertain terms.

  Waving aside his thanks, Mr. Pitt went on: “Owing to the Don’s natural dilatoriness where business is concerned, little has been lost by your delay in setting out. They made their démarche on February 10th, and I sent for you at once to take our reply. Since you failed me, I had it handed to del Campo, the Spanish Ambassador here; but so far no answer to it has arrived. It fits in well, therefore, that I should now follow up my letter by sending you to Madrid as my personal emissary, to protest at their delay and demand full satisfaction.”

  The Prime Minister’s words simultaneously delighted and alarmed Roger. He was still completely in the dark as to the nature of this trouble with the Spaniards, but it was clear that Mr. Pitt meant to send him to Spain with some form of diplomatic status; and that would be not only reinstatement but promotion. On the other hand, Mr. Pitt was obviously under the impression that, however awkwardly he might have put it, he had repented his refusal to go to Spain and had come there in the hope that it might not yet be too late for him to be given this mission. With an effort he brought himself to say:

  “ ’Tis only proper to inform you, sir, that I am about to proceed to Madrid because my private affairs require my presence there. I came here only to offer my services in case you had despatches that you wished conveyed thither.”

  “I thank you for your candour, Mr. Brook,” came the reply, with a slight frown. “But I trust this does not mean that you are still unwilling to serve me in the more important matter?”

  Roger’s mind hovered with frightful uncertainty for a moment on the horns of a dilemma. If he accepted, he would be tied by his country’s interests and might find them come in direct conflict with plans for his elopement with Isabella. As against that, should he refuse this chance of getting back into the old work that meant so much to him he felt certain he would never be given another. Mr. Pitt was far too intolerant of half-hearted, undependable people; and, as though he read Roger’s thoughts, he remarked now with some asperity:

  “I need hardly stress that should you accept my instructions they must take precedence of all else. You have already, more than once, allowed other interests to distract you from the King’s business, and we had best part company for good if that is likely to occur again.”

  Those words “the King’s business” rang a sudden bell in Roger’s mind. They recalled to him his mother down at Lymington with, he feared, only a limited time to live, while duty kept his father tied to his flag-ship, far away at sea. It was the King’s business that separated them and, of necessity, called for sacrifices in thousands of other people’s lives. For the first time he acknowledged to himself that Mr. Pitt had been justified in censuring him for devoting so much of his energies to Madame Marie Antoinette’s affairs, and that during the past year he had, all too frequently, allowed influences that touched his sentiments to interfere with strict concentration on his duties.

  With swift contrition he said: “I am truly sorry, sir, that in my last mission I did not give you full satisfaction; but if you will entrust me with this affair in Spain I give you my word that I will not allow the private business that takes me to Madrid to interfere with its execution.”

  Mr. Pitt nodded approval, and his thin face broke into a smile. He felt that Roger had had his lesson and would prove more conscientious in future. “Let us go into the house, then,” he said; and as they walked towards it across the lawn he added: “You will, no doubt, have seen the reference in His Majesty’s speech on opening Parliament to this difference of ours with Spain?”

  “No, sir. I have this past fortnight been in the country with my mother at Lymington, so I fear I am somewhat out of touch with affairs.”

  “It has aroused little comment as yet, owing to public interest being concentrated on events in Austria and Belgium; but unless we can curb the Don’s pretensions promptly, it may well lead to a dangerous situation.”

  As they entered the house by a pair of french windows and settled themselves in the Prime Minister’s library, he went on: “This then is the issue. As a result of their early explorations the Spaniards have long claimed suzerainty over the whole of the North American Pacific coast right up to Alaska; but they have never troubled to establish trading posts much further north than San Francisco. However, in ’74 one of their Captains discovered an exceptionally fine natural harbour in the neighbourhood of the island of Vancouver, and adopted the local Indian name for the place: Nootka Sound.

  “Four years later Captain Cook also came upon it, and used it for some months as a base during one of his voyages of discovery. His report upon it as a valuable anchorage was duly filed, and when the cessation of the American War enabled commerce to expand again some of our traders began to use it. Apparently the Indian trappers bring their skins there to a market at certain seasons of the year, and the Chinese pay very high prices for rare furs, so a new trade in such commodities arose across the North Pacific, between Nootka Sound and China.

  “In ’88 several merchants of the British East India Company decided to form an Association of their own for the development of this profitable business; so they sent out one John Mears, an ex-lieutenant of the Royal Navy, with orders to establish a permanent trading post at Nootka. Mears bought a piece of land from the Indian Chief, Macquilla, and the exclusive right to trade with his subjects; then he built a small settlement on the land he had acquired, fortified it and hoisted the British flag.

  “Last summer it seems that Flores, the Viceroy of Mexico, became alarmed at rumours that the Russians were establishing themselves on the North American seaboard, so he sent two warships under the command of a Captain Martinez north to investigate. To his surprise Martinez found Nootka occupied by the British. He destroyed the settlement, seized two ships that we had there, and carried Mears and his men b
ack as prisoners to Mexico.

  “We have had no Ambassador in Madrid since the recall of Mr. William Eden, last June; and Mr. Anthony Merry, our Consul, whom you will meet there, has since been acting as Chargé d’ Affaires. I had the first rumours of this matter from Mr. Merry in the latter part of January. Then, on February 10th, the Conde del Campo, who is the Spanish Ambassador at the Court of St. James, presented a formal note upon it.

  “The note stated that out of His Most Catholic Majesty’s consideration for His Britannic Majesty, the prisoners have since been liberated; but it asserted the right of Spain to absolute sovereignty in those districts ‘which have been occupied and frequented by Spaniards for so many years’. Further, it called upon us to punish those responsible for the undertaking and to prohibit future ones of a similar nature.

  “The statement that the Spaniards have occupied these districts for many years is entirely without foundation, and I will never submit to such unprovoked insult to the British flag. Having no Ambassador in Madrid to instruct, I took the matter in hand myself. After consultation with the Cabinet I replied to del Campo through His Grace of Leeds that an act of violence having been committed made it necessary to suspend all discussion on the pretensions set forth in his note until just and adequate satisfaction should have been made for a proceeding so injurious to Great Britain.”

  Mr. Pitt stood up, and, walking over to a big globe map of the world that occupied a corner of the room, added: “There the matter rests. But I wish you to see what this strangely named harbour on a far-distant shore may mean to us in the future.”

  With his long, sensitive forefinger he pointed first to the United States. “See, here are England’s first Colonies in the Americas. A hundred years ago they were no more than a number of small widely scattered settlements; today they form an independent nation whose wealth, population and power already exceeds that of many States in Europe.”

  His finger moved north. “And here are our Canadian territories, with their flourishing communities at Quebec, Three Rivers, Montreal and Williamsburg. In another two generations those towns may be fine cities having populations as large as Boston, New York and Philadelphia have today; and in the same area hundreds of smaller towns and villages may have sprung up.”

  Roger nodded. “You mean, sir, that now the hatchet has been buried between the Canadian-French and our own settlers, the population will increase much faster from both enjoying greater security to develop their properties and rear families on them?”

  “I do indeed; but it is not that alone I have in mind. For many centuries the land of England has sufficed to support her population, but the time is fast approaching when it will do so no longer. Only last summer, when the famine in France was nearing its worst, Monsieur Necker wrote to me begging that I would help avert the crisis by allowing a large quantity of grain to be sent from Britain; yet, to my regret, I had to refuse him; for the safety margin here was so narrow that to have done so would have meant acute shortage among our own people.

  “With the great increase of factories in our towns a new age is dawning and I foresee a not-far-distant time when we shall have both to import large quantities of grain ourselves and also encourage the most hardy and adventurous among our people to emigrate. Therefore, both through natural causes and a great influx of new settlers, we are justified in anticipating a very large increase in the inhabitants of Canada. Should that come to pass, as it must short of some unforeseen catastrophe, in another few decades the Canadians will be a great people, and they will require a far larger domain than they have at present on which to support themselves.”

  Once more Mr. Pitt put his finger on the globe, and its tip rested in the centre of the big blank space, eight times as wide as Canada was then, between the eastern end of Lake Ontario and the Pacific coast.

  “Look, now, at that vast unknown territory east of Lake Simco and Fort Toronto. ’Tis into its endless miles of forest, plains and rivers that the Canadians must spread, and from them draw their future sustenance. But look again at its far extremity; there are Vancouver Island and Nootka Sound. If we allow the Spaniards to maintain their title to Nootka they will spread westward from it, and in a few years claim the half of this splendid northern Empire for their own. That I will not suffer. I want it all. Our Canadians will find a good use for it in the future, and I will fight Spain now if need be so that they may have it when we are dead and gone. I will make no compromise, but am determined to have every square mile of it; so that in course of time Canada may become the mighty child of Britain that I would have her be.”

  For a moment Roger remained looking at his great master in silent admiration, then he said: “What think you, sir, are the chances that we shall have to fight the Dons, in order to make possible this splendid vision of yours?”

  Mr. Pitt turned and walked back to his desk. “I think everything hangs upon our forcing them to take a prompt decision in the matter. As I see it our present case is very similar to that with which we were faced in ’61. The late Don Carlos had then been but two years on the throne of Spain. As a young Prince, while Duke of Parma, he had conquered Naples and afterwards reigned there for twenty-five years, doing much to improve the condition of that country. But on his succeeding his father as King of Spain he found his own country ill prepared for war. Even so, his ambitions led him to enter into a secret pact with France, in which it was agreed that he should make certain demands of us and, if we failed to satisfy them, join France in the war she was then waging against us.

  “My father was then Prime Minister. He saw at once the danger of the situation, and that the only way to meet it was to employ highhanded measures. He urged very strongly that His Most Catholic Majesty should be told that either he must withdraw his demands forthwith or we would instantly declare war upon him. Don Carlos’ navy and army were then in no state to commence hostilities, moreover his money chest was near empty and he was dependent for paying his forces upon the arrival of a great treasure fleet that had not yet set sail from Peru. Therefore, had my father’s advice been taken, the Spaniards would either have been forced to climb down and war with them been averted, or we should have caught them at a grave disadvantage.

  “Unfortunately King George III was then very young, and had only the previous year ascended the throne. He placed more reliance on my Lord Bute, who had been his tutor, than he did upon my father, with the result that my father resigned the seals of office. In his place my Lord Bute was appointed principal Minister. He proceeded to temporise with the Spaniards and a long exchange of notes ensued, which achieved nothing. Don Carlos was given time to organise his forces and get his treasure fleet safely across the Atlantic, instead of its being sunk or captured. When he was ready he declared war upon us, and although we defeated him in the end, he inflicted grave damage on us before we succeeded in doing so.”

  Roger smiled. “That certainly is a lesson, sir. Am I to take it, then, that Spain is again unprepared today?”

  “Not to the extent she was in ’61. The new King, Carlos IV, is, I believe, a weak and inept ruler; but he still enjoys the benefit of his father’s endeavours to raise Spain to her former greatness. After his apprenticeship of a quarter of a century as King of Naples, Carlos III reigned for nearly thirty years in Spain. He was therefore no novice in the art of Kingship, and being a hard-working, intelligent, conscientious man—in fact the best King that Spain has had for many generations—he did a great deal for his country. Moreover, in the Counts d’Aranda and Florida Blanca he had two great Prime Ministers to assist him. The latter is still in office, and in the event of war will undoubtedly follow a policy which would have been approved by his late master. Therefore, if we have to fight it will not be against the weak Spain of Carlos IV but the relatively strong Spain created by Carlos III.”

  Mr. Pitt stood up, walked over to a side table, poured out two glasses of Port, handed one to Roger, took a drink himself, and went on: “In spite of what I have just said, in the event of wa
r with Spain—with Spain alone, mark you—I have no fears whatever regarding its outcome. We can beat the Dons with ease. But this is where the lesson of my father’s policy towards them comes in. They know that they dare not fight us single-handed, so they are now endeavouring to postpone further discussion on this matter until they have made certain of securing an ally. The ally they hope to win is, of course, France.”

  “You mean, sir, that they will invoke the Family Compact?” Roger murmured.

  “Precisely. As you must know, King Carlos III fought us a second time during his reign. He was then most reluctant to do so, but in ’79 the French called on him to honour his treaty with them, and at great cost to himself he did so. Now it is France’s turn to help Spain, and it is difficult to see how she can refuse to pay/ner debt. But in view of her recent internal troubles it is certain that she will procrastinate, and urge the Dons to settle their dispute with us without resorting to war. That should give us the time we need. If we can force them into a corner while they are still uncertain whether they can place definite reliance on French support, I feel convinced that they will climb down.”

  “You are then, sir, prepared to threaten them with war?”

  “I am. If their stomachs are so high that they feel compelled to accept our challenge, that will be regrettable, but by no means catastrophic; for if they go to war with us on their own ’tis as good as certain that France will refuse to honour her obligations, on the plea that hostilities were entered into without sufficient consultation with her. War with Spain presents no serious danger to us, so ’tis far wiser to risk it than the possibility that we may later be called on to fight Spain and France together. Your task, therefore, is to browbeat the Spaniards into a settlement before they have time to shame their ally into a definite undertaking to fight beside them.”

 

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