Lorenzo and the Turncoat Page 15
“Maybe. As Eugenie’s fiancé, I reserve the right to call you out for a duel when you are completely recovered.”
“You’re going to make sure I recover so you can kill me. Is that the plan?”
“Basically. Unfortunately, Colonel Gálvez has first dibstones on you.”
“Speaking of Colonel Gálvez,” Eugenie said, “I promised that he would give you a full accounting of your cousin’s death. I spoke to him about the matter. He wants to talk to you whenever you feel well enough.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Hawthorne said. “I know I’m in a lot of trouble.”
Eugenie left.
“I seem to recall shooting someone,” Hawthorne said.
Lorenzo nodded. “Charles Peel. He has a minor head wound.” Lorenzo tilted his head questioningly. “Why did you call him Lieutenant Peel?”
“I was out of my mind and mistook him for someone else.”
“Really,” Lorenzo said in an unconvinced voice. “That’s quite a coincidence. You plucked the name ‘Peel’ out of thin air.”
Hawthorne locked gazes with him. “It’s a common English name.”
“Tell me about Lieutenant Peel.”
A strange feeling that he could trust this man settled over Hawthorne. “When I was in New York, I met an artillery officer named Peel. He was a decent chap with few vices. He transferred to Fort Detroit and I lost track of him until rumors began to circulate. According to my sources, he fell madly in love with a Dutch girl and planned to marry her. Unfortunately, she was killed. You see, Governor Hamilton paid the Indians for scalps. Hers happened to be one they brought in one day.”
Shock registered on Lorenzo’s face.
Hawthorne exhaled deeply. “It was an enormous blunder, perhaps the biggest mistake we have made in the war.”
Lorenzo frowned in confusion. “How so?”
“It has turned public opinion against it. Colonists who were once loyal British subjects have given us their backs. How can we protect them, they wonder, if we can’t protect the fiancée of one of our own lieutenants.”
“So there was a purpose to her death. She didn’t die in vain.”
“Pardon me?” Hawthorne said.
“Nothing.”
“No, you meant to say something.”
“Charles Peel, the man you claim you do not know, once told me he believed that God had a purpose behind his fiancée’s death.”
“He did. Her name has become a rallying cry for American troops.”
“Charles should know this.”
“Yes, he certainly should.” Hawthorne thought it best to keep the rest of the story to himself. Charles Peel had killed the man who scalped his fiancée. Governor Hamilton ordered him locked in the stockade, but Peel escaped with the help of friends.
Hawthorne was glad he had. Under the circumstances, it would be wrong to prosecute Peel. There was a legal term for his crime: justifiable homicide.
Gálvez paused with his hand on the doorknob. He turned to let Lorenzo and Thomas enter. “Thomas, if you feel uncomfortable …”
“I can do this, Your Excellency.”
They entered and found Hawthorne propped up by pillows.
“Thomas!” His eyes sparked with genuine affection. “What a wonderful surprise! How have you been, my boy?”
“Fine, sir.”
Gálvez rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I asked Thomas to speak to you because he knows better than anyone what happened with Sergeant Andrews. He has agreed to answer all questions. Would you prefer to interview him in private?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Thomas eased into a chair beside Hawthorne’s bed while Gálvez and Lorenzo retired to the back of the room.
Hawthorne asked Thomas several polite questions before he got to the matter at hand. Gálvez had the distinct impression that he had been trained as a lawyer.
“Miss Dubreton told me Sergeant Andrews went to Texas,” Hawthorne said. “Is that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Despite my telling him to stay in New Orleans?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did he go there?”
“To settle an old score with Lorenzo.”
“Did you go with him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So you saw everything?”
“Not everything. Most of it.”
Hawthorne digested that. “But you saw enough to make an informed opinion.”
“Yes, sir.”
He paused. “Was Dunstan’s execution justified?”
“Yes, sir,” Thomas said firmly. “He committed murder.”
“Then what Miss Dubreton told me was true.” Hawthorne laid his head back and focused on a distant point. There was a long pause. “I am satisfied, Your Excellency. Thomas would never lie, not even if you told him to.”
Gálvez moved to the foot of the bed. “You have placed me in an awkward position. On the one hand, you committed a crime when you kidnapped Eugenie. On the other, you did me a favor. By bringing her here to Baton Rouge, you twice saved her life. Once, from the hurricane. Once from scarlet fever. Further, Eugenie and Lorenzo were to be married at the St. Louis Church two days after the kidnapping. Virtually the entire city would have been at the wedding when she was most contagious. It is possible you spared New Orleans an epidemic.”
“Not me. God.”
The response caught Gálvez off guard. He had expected the man to seize the opportunity to negotiate a light sentence.
Thomas appeared equally surprised. “Thou hast changed, sir.”
Hawthorne’s face clouded. “I hope so, son.”
Gálvez could not help comparing Hawthorne to Sergeant Dunstan Andrews. In his cousin’s final moments, he had been completely unrepentant. This man was ready to accept punishment.
Gálvez swiveled toward Lorenzo. In private, Eugenie had asked for leniency for her captor. Gálvez understood her request. He had once captured some Apache youths in battle. After a couple of days, they showed an odd sense of loyalty to him and asked to stay with him. At the time, he had not known what to do with them, so he sent them to school in Mexico City. Yes, Gálvez understood the strange relationship between captor and hostage. He doubted that Lorenzo did.
Gálvez scowled at Hawthorne. “Are you prepared to hear my decision?”
Hawthorne’s gaze met his. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
“For crimes against His Catholic Majesty, I order Robert Hawthorne of Baton Rouge into exile from all Spanish territory until such time as I, Governor-General of Louisiana, decide otherwise.”
It took Hawthorne a moment to find his tongue. “Thank you, Your Excellency. That is most generous.”
“It is a fitting punishment.” Gálvez glanced at Lorenzo. To judge by his scowl, he did not agree.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next day, Lorenzo stood on the colonel’s verandah with the priest from the San Gabriel Church. Lorenzo wondered how the colonel had enticed the sour-faced old man to travel to Baton Rouge to perform a wedding ceremony. He supposed it was difficult for anyone to turn down a request from the colonel. Lorenzo also supposed he should feel nervous, but he didn’t. He had been waiting for this day for a long time.
Lorenzo wore his dress uniform and was flanked by Thomas Hancock and Captain Héctor Calderón. Soldiers fanned out on the lawn beyond the verandah.
While they waited, Davy Morgan entertained guests with a merry fife tune. Eugenie had told Lorenzo and the colonel about the young man’s many acts of kindness toward her and Hawthorne. At Lorenzo’s suggestion, Gálvez gave Davy a pardon so he could accompany Hawthorne into exile. Hawthorne’s recovery from rheumatic fever would take months. He needed a nurse.
Gálvez stepped onto the porch with Eugenie on his arm. A knot formed in Lorenzo’s throat. She looked beautiful in a white satin dress lent to her by one of the townswomen.
Davy’s fife tune changed to a slow march.
Eugenie and the colo
nel slowly approached and stopped in front of Lorenzo. The three of them turned toward the priest who stood in front of a makeshift altar. He began the nuptial Mass. Due to the extraordinary circumstances surrounding the wedding, the priest used a shortened version.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” the priest asked.
“I do.” Colonel Gálvez placed Eugenie’s right hand in the priest’s and stepped back.
The priest in turn put her hand in Lorenzo’s. “Receive the precious gift of God.” He asked the usual questions. Had they come to marry freely? Did anyone object to the wedding? Satisfied that there were no impediments, he told them to join hands.
They repeated the wedding vows after the priest.
He turned to the makeshift altar and sprinkled holy water on the wedding rings. He put one in Lorenzo’s right hand.
Lorenzo took Eugenie’s left hand in his left. He placed the ring on her thumb and said, “In the name of the Father.” He moved the ring to the forefinger and said, “And the Son.” He placed it on the next finger. “And the Holy Ghost.” He slid it on her ring finger. “With this ring I thee shield.”
Eugenie repeated the ring ceremony, ending with the words: “With all my heart I thee enfold.”
The priest said the nuptial blessing over them, then introduced them to the crowd as Major and Mrs. Bannister.
The crowd applauded.
To Lorenzo’s surprise, Héctor now stood with seven other officers lined up at the foot of the verandah steps. He had slipped away at some point in the ceremony.
“Draw swords!” Héctor commanded.
They put blade tips together to form an arch.
“Your brother officers wish you much happiness,” Héctor said.
“Thank you, one and all,” Lorenzo said.
Arm in arm, he and Eugenie passed beneath the swords. At the end of the path, a carriage and a driver waited.
Calderón ordered, “Return swords.”
Blades hissed as the men put them back in their sheaths.
The colonel kissed Eugenie on the cheek. “Congratulations, m’ija.” He shook Lorenzo’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for this wedding for a long time.”
“Me too,” Lorenzo said, smiling at his bride.
“I need to speak to your husband,” the colonel said to Eugenie. “May I borrow him, Mrs. Bannister?”
“Can I stop you?”
“Technically, no. I am his commander.”
“In that case, you have my permission.”
Lorenzo and the colonel left Eugenie by the carriage and walked a short distance away.
“I know you joined the army because it was expedient in finding Eugenie,” the colonel said. “I also know that you can resign your commission at any time and go back to medicine.”
Lorenzo eyed him warily, neither confirming nor denying.
“But you won’t do that because the military is in your blood. If you remain my staff officer, I promise to take you places.”
“Are those places I want to go?”
“Have you ever been to Mobile or Pensacola?”
“No.” The question confirmed Lorenzo’s suspicions. The colonel planned to attack British posts along the Gulf of Mexico.
“I will head back to New Orleans soon, but will leave a detachment here to make the transition to Spanish rule. Baton Rouge is a lovely place to honeymoon.” Gálvez fished a key from his pocket and handed it over. “A wedding gift from me and Felicité. This goes to a home I just purchased. It has a number of bedrooms in need of children.”
Lorenzo laughed. “You are wicked, sir.”
Gálvez tugged on his jacket sleeve and tried to look offended. “I found Eugenie homeless on the streets of New Orleans and now I leave her to your care. I could not be happier.” Gálvez gave Lorenzo a Spanish-style hug. “Go back to your bride.”
Lorenzo did.
“What was that about?” Eugenie asked.
“The colonel gave us a house.”
“He could have done that in my presence.” Eugenie eyed the colonel suspiciously as he strolled away. “He’s up to something. What devious plot is he hatching this time?”
“You won’t believe it,” Lorenzo said. “Baton Rouge was just the beginning.”
Historical Note
Fort New Richmond overlooked the Baton Rouge waterfront and stood south of present-day Pentagon Barracks at the intersection of Spanish Town Road and Lafayette Street. The Indian mounds where Gálvez placed his cannon battery were located near North Boulevard.
While in Baton Rouge, Gálvez stayed in a frame building known as the Spanish Commandant’s House. It was formerly at 727 Lafayette Street.
Charles Peel’s fiancée, Anne, is a fictional character. Her story is based on the unfortunate death of Jane McCrea, a young woman engaged to a British soldier. She was murdered and scalped by Indians, allies of the British. Her death shocked the colonists and rallied many to the cause of the Revolution.
Lorenzo’s next adventure takes place on the high seas and is tentatively titled Lorenzo’s Pirate. Colonel Gálvez attacks Mobile in 1780 and forges on to Pensacola in 1781.