Tyger by Julian Stockwin Page A

his list and made play of consulting it.
    “Call Henry Dundas, First Viscount Melville.”
    There was an immediate rustle around the court—this was none other than the reigning first lord of the Admiralty at the time, who could be relied upon to have been privy to every naval confidence.
    It took a little while, for the noble lord was being accommodated ashore until summoned. A tall, imposing figure, he appeared with his flag lieutenant.
    As soon as he was sworn in Popham wasted no time. “Will your lordship have the goodness to relate to the court the circumstances respecting the communications I held with Mr Pitt and your lordship upon the subject of a proposed expedition to South America?”
    A respectful hush descended. If a first lord of the Admiralty supported Popham’s claims, then the court-martial was all but over—who sitting there in judgement would dare to press the issue?
    Jervis waited in a forced rigidity, Popham with an air of supreme confidence and polite patience.
    “I … feel some difficulty in answering this question,” Melville began, with a deprecating gesture. “I have no doubt it can be answered but for any allusion to confidential secrets of state, and this …”
    Popham’s smile slipped a little. “Nothing can be more foreign to my wish than a disclosure leading to the improper publication of a state secret. No—let my reputation suffer rather than such a consequence be risked.”
    “Then I shall endeavour to answer to the best of my recollection.”
    Dundas began by telling the court how Popham had introduced General Miranda with a plan for a simultaneous descent on the southern continent, at the successful conclusion of which Britain would be rewarded with preferential access to the newly opened market.
    “Did Mr Pitt accede to this plan?”
    “We had several conversations on the matter but did not immediately proceed.”
    Jervis scribbled something that was handed to the president, who held up his hand. “Can your lordship indicate to the court why this was so?”
    “I may say that a higher political purpose prevented it.”
    “Sir, if at all possible, the court would be interested to know it.”
    “Very well, as any pretence at secrecy in the matter is now no longer practicable. It is that until the events off Cape Trafalgar it was held that any attempt on the Spanish colonies would provoke a more fierce adherence to the French cause, at hazard to our diplomatic exertions in Madrid to detach them.”
    Swiftly Popham gave over a paper. “Does your lordship recognise this letter?”
    “I do. It is one sent by me directing you to attend a meeting with Mr Pitt upon the subject.”
    “And to produce a memoir upon the matter.”
    “That is so.”
    “Which resulted in a warm discussion between us.”
    Jervis had waited for his moment: it was now.
    “Mr President,” he said, in a voice silky with menace, “this is neither here nor there in the charge before the court. We accept that the honourable captain was engaged in dealings with the noble lord and Mr Pitt in the matter of South America. There is really but one question that interests us: does his lordship confirm or deny that orders were given to Sir Home Popham specific to an attack on Buenos Aires?”
    “Let the question be put.”
    “No orders were given in that tenor.”
    Smoothly, as if nothing had happened, Popham continued to examine the first lord. Cabinet meetings, dry detail of fleet assembly, intelligence pertaining to Spanish colonial conditions but nothing to stand against the damning disclosure just given.
    Melville was stood down with every expression of gratitude for his time graciously given.
    Popham then called William Sturges Bourne, Esquire.
    He took position before the court and was duly sworn in.
    “Is it possible, Mr Bourne, from the situation you held, you should be acquainted with the secrets of government?”
    “I am not aware of the extent of your question.” The man was reticent,