A Flag of Truce (14 page)

Hotham’s secretary, acting as recorder, called, ‘All rise’, an instruction which everyone present obeyed. A file of five post captains, all with twin epaulettes, entered, and stood behind the long table ranged before the footlockers that ran under the casements. The President of the Court took out his sword and laid it on the green baize cloth, then sat down, followed by his fellow judges and the rest of the people in the room. Ralph Barclay had no sooner made his seat than the mention of his name had him and Pigot up again.

‘Allow me to introduce the officers who will hear this case. On my left Captain Luckner and Captain Breen, on my right Captain Fellows and Captain Laidlaw. I am Captain Foregham, and I act as president. I must ask you, Captain Barclay, to confirm your name and rank, and name to the court your trusted friend.’

Barclay obliged, and that was followed by a reading of the charges, which were in all respects a repetition of what Hotham had said to him when he announced this court.

‘I now introduce to you and the court, Lieutenant Elijah Birdutt, who will put the case for the prosecution.’

‘Good,’ thought Barclay; he knew the man and he was well known for his blustering stupidity.

Birdutt stood, his bright red face and untidy grey hair evidence of the time he had spent in his rank; he had to be one of the oldest lieutenants in the King’s Navy, which was a direct result of his inability to both execute his duties and impress those in command. He had been denied promotion for the very good reason that he was unworthy of elevation, only a degree of influence keeping him in employment.

‘May it please the court, I have nothing but the charges to levy against the accused, those claiming testimony regarding the case having been taken away from Toulon by their duties.’

‘Those are?’ asked the President.

‘Lieutenants Digby and Pearce, Midshipman Farmiloe, Bosun Robert Sykes, and seamen Dent, Dommet, O’Hagan and Taverner.’

‘Do we have any depositions from those missing?’

‘Unfortunately not, sir. It seems there was no
time to take such a thing prior to their hurried departure.’ Ralph Barclay was looking at Hotham’s secretary, writing in an elegant hand words he knew to be total lies. The man’s sangfroid was admirable. ‘There is however the verbal testimony made both to Admiral Lord Hood, his Captain of the Fleet, Rear Admiral Hyde Parker, and to Admiral Hotham on a separate occasion. I asked those officers to provide written statements of what transpired and with the courts permission I would like to read them out.’

‘It would be best to hear their remarks from their own lips, while also allowing Lieutenant Pigot an opportunity to question them for the sake of clarity.’

‘May it please the court,’ Pigot said, looking at his client and sending blasts of stale wine breath into his face as he spoke. ‘We are talking of officers engaged in the most onerous of tasks, men with great responsibilities. I can speak for Captain Barclay when I say he would not wish them taken away from their duties merely to confirm their written word.’

‘Very well. Mr Birdutt, you may read each one in turn, before passing it to the court.’

‘The accusations stem from one source only, sir, and that is Lieutenant John Pearce.’

‘None of the others mentioned in the witness list have made complaint?’

‘If they have, sir, it is not recorded.’

‘Carry on.’

Birdutt read in a sonorous voice, as if it was he who was the admiral and not the man making the complaint. Some of Pearce’s venom was obvious in each one, indeed Ralph Barclay could practically hear the sod’s voice in Lord Hood’s testimony. Parker was more circumspect, relating only the facts, while Hotham’s told the court that he had needed, on more than one occasion, to remind Lieutenant Pearce of both his inferior rank, the virtues of the man he was traducing, and the fact that duelling between officers of His Majesty’s Navy, rank being immaterial, was forbidden. Once Birdutt was finished, the President cleared the court so they could read these documents in peace. Pigot was asked to remain for the same reason, but sent out when the five captains fell to discussing the contents.

‘It’s a damn shame about not duelling, sir.’ Ralph Barclay turned to face Taberly, who was smiling at him. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to call out Pearce.’

‘You’re not alone, Mr Taberly.’

‘Can I say, sir, that you have the support of every right thinking officer in the fleet.’

‘Thank you, Mr Taberly. Allow me to name to you Lieutenant Pigot.’

As if to underline his name, Pigot burped as he
shook Taberly’s hand, and he turned away from the fetid smell as a voice called. ‘Gentlemen, the court will reconvene.’

‘Mr Pigot, do you have any remarks to make regarding what you have read?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Mr Birdutt, do you have any more evidence to introduce?’

‘No sir.’

‘Then, Mr Pigot, you may proceed to your defence.’

‘Thank you, sir. I call Midshipman Burns.’

Toby Burns was terrified long before he came through the door, and the sight of a row of
blue-coated
captains, and that sword on the table, nearly had his knees giving way. He was directed to stand centre room and Pigot immediately asked him his name, rank and ship.

‘Now, Mr Burns, please recount to the court the events, as you recall them, that took place in late February of this year.’

Toby Burns opened his mouth, but nothing came out, which had the President say, ‘Take your time, lad, all we are after is the truth, and I would remind you that you are not here on trial.’

The truth was all the boy was thinking of; if I tell them the truth I’m dished. Slowly he spoke, hesitant and rasping from a very dry throat, and all the while the recorder’s quill scratched across the page,
seeming to him louder than his own voice. ‘The need for hands…the boat upriver…his task to land them west of Blackfriars…any mistake was his, his uncle being too indulgent in taking the blame on himself.’

‘You steered the boat to shore?’ asked Pigot.

‘I did.’

The slight commotion made him look round, really no more than people shifting in their seats, one standing to let Emily Barclay sit down. The sight sent Toby Burns stomach heading down to the floor.

Ralph Barclay had turned at the same, small commotion, but his reaction was one of very obvious fury, yet he could do or say nothing and he fought to compose his features; who knows, people might assume she was here to support his case. Her defiance was known only to him.

‘Mr Burns, please tell the court what happened when you landed.’

He had to go on, there was no choice. If he blurted out now that his previous evidence was a lie, he would be in the dock as much as his uncle. It was a good thing he had been so thoroughly rehearsed, for that took over and it was in something of a daze that he answered.

‘It was pitch black, sir, which gave us no clue as to our true location, and the tavern into which Captain Barclay sent his scouting party would not have known they were in the wrong place entirely,
no more than we outside did, as we secured the exits.’

‘There was violence, was there not?’ one of the other captains enquired. ‘The men taken did not surrender without offering resistance.’

‘One or two, sir, but not all. I would say that a goodly number of the men recruited took it to be their fate. How could they not, living in such squalor?’

All five adjudicating captains, Lieutenant Birdutt, Pigot and Ralph Barclay adopted stony expressions at that statement, lest such a blatant piece of nonsense elicit the reaction it deserved; profound disbelief. Every one of those captains had pressed men in their time, and though they had also recruited volunteers, with bands, posters, bribes and downright falsehoods about untold wealth, they knew that it was not done in the hours of darkness, and in a place where men were taking their ease.

‘I take it,’ asked Pigot, ‘since he has been so vehement in his denunciation, that Lieutenant Pearce was not of that number.’

‘I could not say, sir. He was not at that time Lieutenant Pearce, he was just another volunteer, one face amongst many.’

As Pigot gave the judges a meaningful look, the sound of a slight cough from behind, which he guessed to be his Aunt Emily, made Toby Burns’
skin crawl. He was also aware that he was sweating, conscious that a cabin too full of bodies was turning stuffy, and licking his upper lip he tasted salt.

‘The men were taken into your boats,’ Pigot continued, ‘shipped down to Sheerness, where they were given the chance to volunteer for service to the Crown.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And did you see any evidence of dissention?’

He had seen them coming aboard that grey morning, some bearing cuts, others scars and bruises, rubbing wrists that had chaffed at their restraints, one or two weeping, many confused, others emitting looks of sheer defiance. He had not known it was Pearce when Ralph Barclay cuffed him hard round the ear; that he found out later.

‘Sir, I can recall, just before I went to my berth, that there was a great deal of jollity.’

‘Jollity?’

‘Laughing, an exchange of teasing.’

‘Thank you, Mr Burns. I am finished with this witness, sir.’

‘Mr Birdutt?’

‘No questions, sir.’

‘Mr Burns,’ said Pigot, ‘you may step down.’

As Toby Burns went to sit to one side, Hotham’s junior clerk was despatched to fetch the Master at Arms. Coyle, still suffering from a leg broken in a
storm, came limping in using sticks, then, with some difficulty, knuckled his forehead and removed his cap. The ritual of identity and the Bible completed he was asked very much the same sort of questions as Toby Burns. For Coyle it was simple; if the captain was to be had up over pressing in the Liberties, then that could apply to all who were with him on the night and he was not ever going to lay himself open to such a charge. Coyle had been a soldier before becoming a Master at Arms, and every brush with authority all his life had led him to treat it with mistrust. He was honest enough to admit he could not recall who was steering the boat and he quite cleverly managed to avoid saying that Burns was not there. As to location, he had no idea; such things were left to those qualified to decide and he obeyed what orders he was given once on dry land.

Violence? Some, not much. Despair? There were a few that took that line, but they soon came round and were ready for the King’s shilling once it had been explained to them the joys of shipboard life and the prospect of prize money.

‘I would say, sir,’ Coyle intoned, in response to Pigot’s final enquiry, ‘by the time they made the deck they were as content a bunch of prospective hands as it has ever been my good fortune to help recruit.’

Birdutt was again invited to cross-examine, but
replied that he could see no purpose in it, as Lieutenant Pigot had been so good as to pose any questions he, himself, might have thought of. Ralph Barclay heard an approving murmur go round the great cabin, with much nodding of heads, causing the President to rap his knuckles on the green baize to command silence and attention.

Kemp came next, and such was his rat-like snivelling appearance, Pigot got through his evidence quickly, really a repetition of Coyle’s, for he created an impression that every word he uttered was a falsehood. But he had one valuable addition to the tale; at the time, he had been a bosun’s mate, and had had charge of John Pearce once he had been entered.

‘He changed his tune when work was called for, your honour. A shirker he was, alas hanging back from what was needed to be done, unlike the rest who was willing. I had to encourage him more’n once.’

‘Changed his tune?’ asked Birdutt, when Pigot handed him over.

‘Aye, your honour. He was happy enough to take the King’s shilling, but not happy to meet his end of the bargain, and I heard him trying like billy-o to get others to rise up and rebel.’

‘In the depositions this court has already studied from our senior officers, it seems that Mr Pearce was insisting on freedom for others. This he would
hardly do without their connivance.’

‘I won’t say they didn’t waver, sir, I don’t say that at all, for Pearce had a silver tongue. An’ I daresay for a time one or two fell into his way of seein’ things. But hot and cold they would be, with Pearce when he was in their ears, happier with their lot when they was left alone to think it out.’

‘So would you say, Kemp, that Pearce, as a newly recruited volunteer, turned into a troublemaker?’

There was almost gratitude from Kemp for having the matter being put to him so succinctly, and he oozed insincerity in his positive response. Devenow said much the same as Kemp, though in an inarticulate mumble that made his evidence hard to understand, so he was quickly got rid of.

‘Call Cornelius Gherson.’

He had dressed for the occasion. In his new role as Ralph Barclay’s clerk, he was free to come and go from the ship as he pleased, once his duties were complete. Gone was the checked shirt and rolled-up ducks which he had worn aboard HMS
Leander
. He had money to spend from his gambling profits as well as his letter writing for the illiterate, and he was in a port were folk of quality, who had come to Toulon as refugees, were having to dispose of their goods and chattels at any price offered to survive. He now wore fine linen underneath a well-made coat, stout breeches, white silk stockings and shoes with real silver buckles. His hat already off as he
entered the cabin, he executed a proper bow to the judges, sweeping that shiny tricorn across his chest, and showing an excellent head of near white, blond hair that had been expertly barbered. He looked so much the gentleman that Ralph Barclay resolved to examine his accounts as soon as he returned to his ship.

‘Mr Gherson, you were recruited on the same night as the men named in Lieutenant Pearce’s complaint.’

‘I was, sir.’

‘A volunteer?’ asked Pigot.

‘No, sir, I came to the service through an accident.’

‘Explain to the court, please, what you mean by that.’

The smile was engaging and designed to be, the slight brush of the hand over his attractive features used to denote both reluctance and modesty. ‘I was engaged in a prank, sir,’ he replied, addressing the President directly, ‘showing off to a lady on London Bridge, balancing on the parapet, when I lost my footing.’

Emily recalled him that day at Sheerness, because he had on nothing but a shirt to cover his nakedness. She had never thought on it before, but seeing he had been engaged in his new task, and would be in regular contact with her husband, it suddenly became a matter of interest to her to know
the true circumstances of his arrival. She had no doubt he was lying, and no doubt either that of all those who had gone before him, he was likely to be the most accomplished. She could imagine many a woman finding him handsome, for if he had fine features, somehow there was an air of corruption about them, as if he was in fact too gilded a youth. Paris instead of Hector.

‘It could be said to be ill-fortune, yet I landed right by one of Captain Barclay’s boats, and stout hands grasped me and hauled me in, saving my life, for I would have drowned for certain in such a strong current as that which races through the arches of London’s bridges.’

‘Quite,’ Pigot said impatiently, his face conveying the fact that he thought Gherson to be
over-embellishing.

‘As I say,’ Gherson continued, not the least bit put off by Pigot’s attitude. ‘I would not be here now. So I was taken aboard with the others, fed and clothed and asked if I would like to volunteer.’

‘Which you did?’

‘Not immediately, for I had a lot to leave behind. A lady for whom I harboured some affection, a position of some trust to an elderly but kind gentleman. In short, prospects.’

Pigot seemed to cut across him again. He knew, if no one else present did, that Gherson was indeed gilding it. ‘What changed your mind.’

‘Why, John Pearce.’

Pigot exhaled a great quantity of air as he barked. ‘Pearce!’ He then turned to the judges and gave them that same meaningful look he had been practising for days.

‘Why yes, John Pearce had volunteered, and he said it would be a fine thing if I did so too. He was full of talk of adventure, of exotic climes, perhaps the South Seas, and the money to be made from taking enemy ships. He invited me to join his mess and showed me much warmth.’

One or two heads moved at that statement; with a handsome youth like this fellow, warmth could only mean one thing.

‘So I found myself persuaded, and went with Pearce to the then First Lieutenant and signed my name.’

‘You were not coerced.’

The handsome face clouded over, and his easy manner was replaced by an unpleasant pout. ‘I have to tell you, sir, that the notion is alien to me. Coercion would only make me stubborn. I am biddable, but not one to be bullied into anything.’

‘The court,’ Pigot said gravely, ‘may find it hard to accept that a man who has since made such a fuss was the instrument of your joining the service.’

‘Which makes doubly galling what happened next.’

Pigot did not like to see Gherson pout with
displeasure. It made him look weak, yet there was no way to stop the fellow. ‘And that was?’

‘A complete
volte-face.
’ Gherson paused, so that those present could admire that touch of French, an indication that he was as educated as he now looked. ‘Within hours he was at me again to say that I had been forced to serve, that I had been taken from some riverside tavern by violence. Naturally, I refused to be so duplicitous, and we became, I have to tell you, mortal enemies from that moment on.’

‘Did you observe Pearce seeking to persuade others to the course he had proposed to you?’

‘I did, and it gives me no pleasure to say that he had the ear of several, turning them from happy tars into malcontents.’

‘No further questions, sir,’ Pigot said, with a very satisfied air.

Birdutt stood up, which surprised and displeased his opposite number; Pigot was sure he had got everything to be had out of Gherson.

‘Mr Gherson, you are now, I believe, no longer a common seaman?’

Damn the man thought Ralph Barclay, what is he at? He looked to Pigot whose face was clouded with fury.

‘No sir. Captain Barclay, once he found I was serving on HMS
Leander
, took it upon himself, knowing my skills, to appoint me as his clerk.’

‘Can I ask you, Mr Gherson, how you came to be on
Leander
?’

‘An unforeseeable set of circumstances. I was part of the prize crew that took a merchant vessel called the
Lady Harrington
back to England. We were come upon in soundings by another naval vessel, HMS
Griffin
, and since a goodly number of the original crew were still aboard, the captain of that vessel took the men from Captain Barclay’s ship into his own, he being short-handed.’

‘You were, in effect, pressed.’

‘Pearce saw it as so, I did not.’

‘Mr Gherson, I put it to you that you have not been entirely honest with the court.’

The babble that created had the President shouting ‘Order.’ Gherson looked confused; indeed there was a hint of fear in his countenance. Ralph Barclay sat stony-faced, while Pigot was looking at Birdutt as though he would like to kill him.

‘I put it to you that, in fact, you succumbed to John Pearce’s blandishments, that you became, like him, a malcontent, and that Captain Barclay despatched you back to England to get rid of you.’

‘Sir, I…’

‘The truth, Mr Gherson,’ insisted Birdutt.

The restoration of his composure was quick, for Gherson had a brain quite capable of spinning out the consequences of his own words. Suddenly he looked crestfallen, and then he replied in a voice
that was nothing like that which he had employed before, being soft and embarrassed.

‘I am forced to admit, sir, that I fell for Pearce’s line, that I forgot my duty to my king and my own signature. Captain Barclay, as you say, took a chance to get out of his ship everyone who had fallen for the notions that Pearce had planted in their minds. Though it was never stated, I think he did not want aboard any man who was not willing to serve.’

‘Can I ask you, now you have admitted to your error, what was Pearce’s motive?’

‘I doubt he had one, sir, other than to cause trouble. He seemed to relish that above all other things. When we were pressed into the
Griffin
I was still under his spell, but his influence waned and I came to my senses. He is a weathervane, sir. I was one for a while, but I am no longer such now.’