The Dominion's Dilemma: The United States of British America Read Online Free PDF Page A

know how much he enjoys entertaining.”
     “Well sir, I think he’d be happier if the guest list was limited to Tennesseans, but he’s resigned to hosting the Congress, the Cabinet, the Court, the diplomatic corps and the other guests. At least, those members of Congress and the Court who are still in town. Though I doubt he’ll be wishing M. Jean-Claude a particularly Merry Christmas…”
      “No the Governor-General does not care much for the French, that’s true enough.” Scott’s heavy eyebrows rose with amusement. As a teenage prisoner, Jackson had suffered a merciless beating from a French officer for refusing to clean the man’s boots. The beating had left him with scars on his head and left hand. He and his brother, Robert, also taken prisoner in the endless, faceless skirmishing of the 1780s, both contracted small pox. Robert died soon after their release. The incident left the G-G with a lifelong hatred for the French. 
       “As for the guest list, you should have been here when he was inaugurated. The Tennesseans were all over The Residency. Wrecked everything. Good thing Mr. Adams left town immediately after the swearing-in. He would have been outraged…”
     John Quincy Adams, the previous G-G, had been mortified when “that frontier barbarian,” as he invariably referred to Jackson, trounced him in the 1828 plebiscite.  He had had to be persuaded from leaving Georgetown even before the inauguration.
      Wilder began to wonder whether he had been summoned simply to help the General pass a few unscheduled minutes. Scott, however, began shuffling papers on his desk and his tone became more businesslike.
        “As you are no doubt aware, Mr. Wilder, the results of the recent plebiscite were officially tallied and published two days ago. The previous night, however, a Royal Navy frigate,” he glanced down at the paper in front of him, “the Irresistible, left Baltimore unannounced and unscheduled. I am told she had been stripped of her weaponry and other equipment unneeded for a quick crossing of the North Atlantic and was headed for London. Does that strike you as unusual, Mr. Wilder?”
       “Sir, I must admit I am only vaguely aware of Royal Navy procedures…”
       “Mid-winter North Atlantic crossings are not normal Royal Navy procedure, Lieutenant, nor is stripping down one of the Royal Navy’s most powerful warships and risking it on such a crossing. Why do you think the Admiralty would sanction such a risky journey?” Scott’s eyes were now focused directly on the Lieutenant, who could feel the drill grinding through him.
      “I would venture that the Admiralty---or someone in Lord Grey’s government---wanted someone or something pretty badly, Sir. Though what or who it is, I have no idea.”
    Scott drummed his thick figures impatiently on the polished desktop. “Lieutenant, what have I been trying, apparently unsuccessfully, to train you to do this past year? Analyze odd, disjointed pieces of information to determine if they fit together. In the intelligence business, there is always a ‘who,’ a ‘what,’ a ‘when,’ a ‘where,’ a ‘how,’ and a ‘why.’ The first five can usually be identified rather quickly. Correctly identifying the sixth is what I’m attempting to train you to do.”
     Wilder’s face was flushing and he squirmed anxiously in his seat. “Sir, we have a ‘when,’ the 15th of December, two nights ago. And a ‘what,’ the departure of a Royal Navy warship stripped to its essentials for a peacetime North Atlantic crossing…”
     “Let me stop you there, Lieutenant. The voyage is the ‘how.’ The ‘who’ or the ‘what’ is the person or information London wants. And wants in a hell of a hurry, by all indications. If we know which it is, we can move forward to the all-important ‘why.’ Any ideas?” The fingers resumed their drumming.