Anyway, whether Jean La Fitte was seventeen, fourteen, or twelve in early 1799, he could have been part of Jerome Lanxade's crew, serving an "internship" in murder and mayhem, so why the hell not?
Stodgy academics may take umbrage, but let me put it this way: "It's my bloody book, so sod you, write yer own! Pee-Aitch-Dees… Pee-Aitch-Dees! Wwee don' need no stinkin' Pee-Aitch-Dees!" And let me refer any thin-blooded revisionists to my earlier statement about Louisianans' family names…
"I am well armed and know how to use them."
Lewrie's and Pollock's "appreciation" about the best way to get at New Orleans: it was shorter, quicker, and cheaper than trying to float an army down the Mississippi and, at the time, would've worked! Could it be that Lewrie's plan mouldered in a soggy Admiralty basement 'til 1814, the mouse-nibbled thing was pulled out and given to General Sir Edward Packenham when he went up against Andrew Jackson? Robert V. Remini's The Battle of New Orleans (Penguin Books) lays the whole thing out, though Packenham "screwed the pooch" just as Lewrie suspected any British Army might, since "daring" and "quick" weren't in their vocabulary. And will a Commodore or Rear-Admiral Lewrie play a role in it, hmmm?
So, the bad guys have had their "stuff " scattered to the wind, and Lewrie has come out smelling like rose-water again; not only successful, but fairly damn rich for a change, when a "chicken-nabob," fresh-returned from India with ?50,000, was thought immensely wealthy.
Will money soften Caroline's heart? Whoever that spiteful and incognito scribbler is that writes anonymous letters to her detailing his amours has run out of fresh material and knows nothing of Lewrie's Caribbean doings. Might she ascribe to the views of Clinton backers, "That's old news. Let's just… move on"? Or will it still be "Hell hath no fury"?
I planned on killing off Charite de Guilleri, but she's one of those characters who grows on you. Will she escape her dull relations and find a powerful sponsor, and… who might it be? We left ol' Guillaume Choundas an American Navy prisoner on his parole, but never count him out 'til you drive a stake through his heart; he's harder to kill than cockroaches. Could it be?
Will the cats stop marking territory, now Nicely's gone? Will Midshipman Gamble fit in aboard that floating mad-house, HMS Proteus? Will Lt. Lan-glie's marital prospects towards Lewrie's ward, Sophie, be improved, now that he's in for a goodly share of "chink," too? And those mongeese… how did the Marines find them so far from India and the island of Trinidad, and how'd they smuggle it (them) aboard in the first place?
Will Alan Lewrie stay tagged as "The Ram-Cat," or will "Iron-Bound" become his new sobriquet in the Royal Navy?
All I can say, for now, is… stay tuned, buckaroos, and…
Prospero: I'll deliver all.
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off-
My Ariel, chick,
That is thy charge. Then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well-please you draw
Near.
Exeunt Omnes.
– The Tempest, Act V, Scene 1
William Shakespeare