And so the moment of transition was over. If he had been allowed a thousand guesses as to what his orders would contain, he would never have thought of this particular duty. He could laugh about it if it were not so serious. He could laugh in any case, and he did. After a moment’s glance of surprise Mr. Jones decided that he should laugh too, and did so, obsequiously.
Chapter IV
“Black breeches?” asked Hornblower, startled.
“Of course. Black breeches and stockings, and mourning bands,” said Mr. Pallender solemnly.
He was an aged man, and although the top of his head was bald he wore the remainder of his white hair long, clubbed at the nape of his neck in a thick short queue tied with black ribbon. He had pale blue eyes, rheumy with age, and a thin pointed nose which in the chill of the room bore a small drop at its reddish tip — perhaps always bore one.
Hornblower made a note on the sheet of paper before him regarding the black breeches and stockings and mourning bands. He also made a mental note that he would have to obtain these things for himself as well, and he wondered where the money was coming from to do it.
“It would be best,” went on Mr. Pallender, “if the procession were to pass through the City at midday. Then the populace will have plenty of time to assembles and the apprentices can do a morning’s work.”
“I can’t promise that,” said Hornblower. “It depends on the tide.”
“The tide, Captain Hornblower? You must realize that this is a ceremonial in which the Court — His Majesty himself — is deeply interested.”
“But it has to depend on the tide all the same,” said Hornblower. “And even on the winds too.”
“Indeed? His Majesty will be most provoked if his ideas are scouted.”
“I see,” said Hornblower.
He thought of remarking that although His Majesty ruled the waves he had no more control over the tides than had his illustrious predecessor King Canute, but he thought better of it. Mr. Pallender was not the type to appreciate jokes about the limitations of the royal power. Instead Hornblower decided to imitate Mr. Pallender’s solemnity.
“Since the actual day of the ceremonial hasn’t yet been decided upon,” he said, “it might be possible to choose such a day as the tide serves best.”
“I suppose so,” conceded Mr. Pallender.
Hornblower made a note of the necessity of immediately consulting the tide‑tables.
“The Lord Mayor,” said Mr. Pallender, “Will not be present in person, but his representative will.”
“I understand.”
There would be some small relief in not being responsible for the person of the Lord Mayor, but not much, seeing that the eight most senior admirals in the Navy were going to be present, and were going to be his responsibility.
“Are you sure you won’t try a little of this brandy?” asked Mr. Pallender, giving the decanter a little push.
“No, thank you.”
Hornblower had no desire at all to drink brandy at this time of day; but now he knew what gave Mr. Pallender’s nose that reddish tip. Mr. Pallender sipped appreciatively before going on.
“Now as regards the minute guns —”
Along the processional route apparently there were fifteen points at which minute guns were to be fired, and his Majesty would be listening to see that they were properly timed. Hornblower covered more paper with notes. There would be thirty‑eight boats and barges in the procession, to be assembled in the tricky tideway at Greenwich, marshalled in order, brought up to Whitehall Steps, and dispersed again after delivering over the body to a naval guard of honour assembled there which would escort it to the Admiralty to lie there for the night before the final procession to St. Paul’s.
“Can you tell me, sir,” asked Hornblower, “what kind of vessel these ceremonial barges are?”
He regretted the question as soon as he asked it; Mr. Pallender showed surprise that any man should not be familiar with ceremonial barges, but as for knowing how handy they were in choppy water, or even how many oars aside they rowed, that was of course more than could be expected of Mr. Pallender. Hornblower realized that the sooner he took one over, and rowed it over the course of the procession in the appropriate tidal conditions, timing every stage, the better. He went on adding to his pages of notes while Mr. Pallender went on with what to him was most important — the order of precedence of the boats; how the whole College of Heralds would be present, including Norroy King of Arms and himself, Blue Mantle Pursuivant; the Royal Dukes and the Admirals; the formalities to be observed at the embarkation and the landing; the Chief Mourner and the train‑bearer, the pall‑bearers and the Family of the Deceased.