The Baltic Prize

Chapter 24

Moore paced along behind, grim-faced and silent as the little group made their way up to a waiting carriage.

‘Really, sir, this is not to be borne!’ puffed Franklin Oakley, secretary of the British legation. ‘You come back here without any kind of warning and expect us to beg His Swedish Majesty to grant you immediate audience on a mere military matter?’

‘I do, sir, touching as it does on the very core of the alliance that exists between us, which is now most surely in peril,’ Thornton replied.

‘Then I shall endeavour to-’

‘Sir. Should you fail to bring about a meeting within twenty-four hours I shall be obliged to take extraordinary measures. Do you understand me?’

Unexpectedly, Oakley gave a smile. ‘Perfectly. You know Gustav Adolf, however. And I tell you now, he’s more … difficult than ever. All will depend on how well or no he breakfasted when I petition.’

Thornton had dismal expectations of the encounter to come. He was well aware that this king, believing himself the last great Vasa, had extreme views of his importance, which were not in any way affected by reality. An autocrat of another age, he loathed radicals and revolution, holding that Napoleon Bonaparte was the Antichrist and the Beast of Revelation and raging at any who questioned his opinions.

His father mortally wounded in a coup attempt, he was nevertheless a calamitous judge of men and allowed himself to be surrounded and advised by French-leaning opportunists who, with the Uppsala radicals, were wreaking diplomatic sabotage on all Thornton’s efforts.

Quarters were hastily prepared for them in the legation, but before they had settled an equerry arrived, advising that Gustav IV Adolf would grant audience that very hour – or not at all.

‘So, Thornton, you’ve brought me a curiosity?’ King Gustav IV Adolf was slight, his long face and slicked-back hair at odds with his imperious gestures.

‘Your Majesty, this is Lieutenant General Sir John Moore, military commander of the Northern Expedition.’

‘Yes, as I’ve heard.’ There was a fleeting, almost comical expression of distaste.

‘Who wishes as a matter of some urgency to conclude his arrangements to-’

‘To make descent on Denmark. Yes, I can understand this.’

Moore breathed deeply. ‘Sir, this is not to be considered. I do not-’

‘General, King Gustav is more accustomed to be addressed as “Your Majesty”,’ Thornton said reprovingly.

‘Your Majesty,’ Moore hissed, ‘my government’s instructions may not be put aside so easily. They do not include any provision for the landing of my forces on a foreign shore, especially that of Sj?lland, which is too well defended to contemplate invading.’

‘If you will not join me in carrying the war to the enemy – as in an alliance I should surely expect – then I will act alone in the matter.’

‘How will you move on a territory defended by at least twenty-five thousand? On their own ground? Without-’

‘Have a care, General,’ Gustav spat. ‘This is Sweden, I am its king, and I’ve eighteen thousand fine men here in Stockholm alone. I shall have my way, sir!’

‘Sir – Your Majesty. Do you not think them better employed in facing the Russians in Finland? They press you sorely. You must secure your flanks before-’

‘General. If I asked for troops then it is to make war against my enemies, not to have them sit on their hands, waiting. Those who think only of defence are useless to me. Give me those of stout heart and nothing is impossible.’

Moore’s jaw clamped shut and he glared defiantly back.

Thornton intervened smoothly: ‘I rather think the general means he wishes to act more aggressively, given his wish to strike at the Russians in Finland. I dare to remind you, Your Majesty, that they are our enemies as well.’

‘Know that I’m quite capable of defending my kingdom, Thornton. This is a strategical matter, touching as it does on the sovereignty of my realm. I might be trusted to see to the best interests of the same, don’t you think?’

‘Just so, sire.’

‘Then if he is desirous of a more active employment we should be discussing the Norwegian plan.’ He turned to an aide. ‘Tibell, bring in the Norway maps – I want to open the eyes of my stiff-necked English friend to my grand strategy.’