Vice-Admiral Sir Hyde Parker's favourite colour could safely be called "Plaid," and, if asked whether he ever had trouble making a decision, his likely answer would have been "Well, yes… and no."! Sir Hyde was surely in dread of the Russian Fleet, big as it was reputed to be, and even if he successfully engaged the Danes, feared that his ships would be so cut-up and damaged that they could never risk a fresh battle. He was certainly one of those historical figures who could snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, and, if left on his own, could screw up a two-car funeral.
It seems certain that Lord Nelson finagled Sir Hyde out of the way, with the winds of April 2, 1801, dead against him, as Captain Hardcastle realised; his squadron could have no effect on the battle, and it was Nelson's alone to manage as he wished with no interference.
Ah, but Sir Hyde did interfere, didn't he? His signal to "Discontinue the Action," Number 39, made absolutely no sense; he couldn't see, from his distant vantage point, through the pall of gunsmoke, that most of the Danish ships below the Trekroner Fort were surrendering, fallen silent, afire, or drifting out of the battle already.
Horatio Nelson, upon seeing Sir Hyde's signal, put his telescope to his blind right eye and told Capt. Foley that he really couldn't see it-"I have a right to be blind, sometimes," he said. He acknowledged it, since Number 39 with two guns was General to all ships, but he kept his own Number 16 aloft to "Engage the Enemy More Closely," knowing that he was winning. Nelson arranged the terms of the truce on his own, too.
There was a bit of a scandal within the Fleet after the battle, too, when Sir Hyde heaped praise on his favourites from his own distant squadron, which had hardly fired a gun in anger the whole day, his old favourite swashbuckling, prize-money reaping Capt. Otway, in particular, and ignoring the accomplishments of those of Nelson's, and Graves's, squadron. It is unlikely that Capt. Alan Lewrie will be "Mentioned In Despatches" in the Gazette! No medals were awarded for Copenhagen.
To Sir Hyde Parker, Horatio Nelson was a "whipper-snapper," too famous for his own good, too young, promoted over the heads of stolid, conventional men-perhaps too infamous for his scandalous dismissal of his wife, Fanny, and his affair with Emma Hamilton, which, by the by, resulted in another bastard daughter, Horatia, just as Nelson went down to Plymouth to board his first flagship. To the "Respectable," solid Sir Hyde, Nelson might have seemed such a little "pip-squeak" of a man, so prone to flattery, so in love with fame, glory, and honours, that he was quite put off. Which made things even worse for Adm. Parker, later in the Spring, when he was relieved of command and ordered home, whilst Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson was given command of the British fleet in the Baltic, where it would cruise for the rest of the Summer.
Did Great Britain, Zachariah Twigg at Foreign Office, and Alan Lewrie really have a hand in the assassination of Tsar Paul?
For all you conspiracy nuts, there were no black helicopters in those days, so… stifle yourselves! Take a deep breath and remind yourselves, "It's only a novel, it's only a novel." Though it was "a thing devoutly to be wished," an act that did destroy the League of Armed Neutrality, and its prime sponsor, it appears that it was home-grown. How else could one explain how all the devoted Cossack guards were somewhere else at the moment, the night of March 24, and how the conspirators gained such easy access to the Tsar's bed-chambers? The Tsarina's apartments were cross the passageway, and, from her own open doors, she witnessed the deed done through the open doors of the Tsar's apartment! Without too much in the way of complaint, it seems.
Later on that summer, once Tsar Alexander had taken the throne, peace and free commerce was returned to the Baltic and all of those British merchant ships and their crews had been freed, Capt. Thomas Fremantle of HMS Ganges, one of Nelson's old stalwarts and a fellow whom Lewrie knew from 1796 in the Mediterranean (buy A King's Commander-please!) made an official visit to St. Petersburg and the Russian Court. He wrote his wife, Betsy, that at several official soirйes he was introduced to many of the conspirators, who were as gay as so many magpies, none suffering any recriminations, and prospering nicely!
This may be bad news for Lewrie, if Count Rybakov, and Count Anatoli Levotchkin, were part of the home-grown conspiracy, and had finagled HM Government and the Foreign Office to find a swift way home in time to participate, and benefit from the deed.
Though it's long odds that he and that arrogant, murderous lad, Anatoli Levotchkin, will cross hawses, there are some who keep grudges a whole lot better than most, and one can never tell… Russia, after Napoleon Bonaparte's invasion in 1812, will become a British ally once again, and should Alan Lewrie ever have to go back to the Baltic…!
So, here's Capt. Alan Lewrie, RN, once more secure in command of a hellish-fine frigate. Sooner or later, though, he'll have to return to England… and Caroline. What was it she wrote in that letter he dreaded to open? Had Twigg's visit, and explanations, mollified her to yet another wary reconciliation?
Come to think on't, what was it that Eudoxia Durschenko wrote him? Has she become one more of "Florizel's"-the Prince of Wales's-passing fancies? Or did she rebuff his advances and precious gifts? More to the point, did her papa, Arslan Artimovich, take umbrage and a hopeful dagger-slash at the idiot?
And what of the delectable Tess? Has she become the mistress of Peter Rushton, Viscount Draywick, or does she pine for Lewrie? And, with his new fame, glory, and the possibility of "Respectable" renewed congress with his wife, would Alan Lewrie be so huge a fool as to…?
Hmmm… faithful readers by now should have a clue as to what idiocy Alan Lewrie can get up to, if ever allowed idleness ashore. I promise that all shall be unveiled soon, in King, Ship, and Sword.