Lewrie and the Hogsheads by Dewey Lambdin

Author:Dewey Lambdin [Lambdin, Dewey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2013-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Thorn and Lizard returned to port several days later with their Spanish privateer, and the American trading brig Santee, which had been cached close to the shore of un-inhabited Little Inagua. Once all the salutes had been fired and both ships had come to anchor, Lewrie sent a signal for one of Reliant’s barges to come collect him, specifying a barge, not his usual cutter. Thorn’s signalmen also made hoists for Fulmar and Lt. Oliver Lovett’s Firefly sloop to send boats—to the American brig.

Lewrie spent little time aboard his frigate, just long enough to scrub up, shave, and dress in his best uniform coat with the sash and star of the Order of the Bath, and both his medals, then he was off ashore to call upon the American Consul and the Prize Court.

* * *

“So, you did manage to hunt down the guilty party and recover Captain Martin’s ship and cargo, did you, sir?” the American Consul, Mr. Alexander Stafford mused as he offered Lewrie a chair and a glass of Rhenish. “Quick work, I must say.”

Stafford was tall and spare, with a stand-offish air that did little to sponsor warm relations ’twixt himself and the authorities of Nassau. He was a Massachusetts “blue blood,” aloof to most people in his own country, much less the more-despised “Brits,” and, in all, a damned poor choice for his diplomatic post, making Lewrie wonder if his presence at Nassau was more a punishment for his acerbic nature, not a reward.

“Perhaps Captain Martin will be relieved to get his ship back,” Lewrie presumed between refreshing sips of his wine.

“Captain Martin, fearing the worst, has left Nassau, sir,” the Consul informed him. “I saw him and his crew aboard one of our ships bound for Charleston from Turks Island, which had broken her passage here. He wished to explain his ship’s loss to his business partners and her ship’s husbands, and try to secure his finances as quickly as possible. I am sure he will be eager to return and reclaim her just as soon as I may write and inform him of her re-capture.”

“Well, he may not, Mister Stafford,” Lewrie said, leaning back in his chair with a smile on his face. “We also recovered all of his papers—manifests, business ledgers, his personal log? Does he return to British jurisdiction, he might find himself under arrest.”

“Arrest!” Stafford barked, scowling over the possible indignity. “For what cause, sir?” he archly added.

“Trading with the enemy,” Lewrie said with a shrug, “a charge of Conveyance by knowingly purchasing and transporting stolen goods, to wit, a shipload of British goods taken by a Spanish privateer and offered on the Havana market?”

“Spain is not our enemy, sir!” Stafford snapped. “Spain is your enemy. The United States is neutral in your war, and in a state of amity with all nations!”

“Well, what else may you call a shipload of powder, shot, and naval stores—ordered from Boston, by the way, and put aboard the Santee at Charleston—then shipped

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