Tyger (7 page)

“In this, was I not doing my duty in the interest of my country? As to the accusation that I quit my station without leave, I can only point to more illustrious commanders than myself who, in the recollection of members here sitting, have seen with the daring spirit of enterprise an opportunity to further gallant achievement beyond a passive acceptance of their situation.

“I beg leave to mention the
coup de main
of Admiral Rooke who, having no orders to do so, in bold enterprise seized Gibraltar for the British Crown. And in the late war, in 1793, Lord Hood took it upon himself to enter Toulon and move upon Bastia. That we had insufficient force to hold them does not diminish his achievement. Neither was he made subject of imputation.

“At a later date we find Lord St Vincent, then Sir John Jervis, sent the heroic Nelson to attack Tenerife in the mistaken belief that treasure ships were sheltering there, which as we know met with dolorous consequences. This was undertaken without orders from any superior authority and outside the limits of his command. Certainly no judicial inquiry or public censure ever followed the enterprise.”

The shot hit home: the prosecuting counsel’s face tightened but Popham went on in measured tones.

“And I need hardly remind the honourable members of the action of the gallant Lord Nelson himself in leaving his station to pursue Villeneuve to the West Indies. I quote from his letter at the time from Martinico. ‘I had no hesitation in forming my judgement, and I flew to the West Indies without any orders, and I think the ministry cannot be displeased.’ I believe it unnecessary to state that the country as a whole rejoiced at his so doing.

“In short, it is that officers with independent command cannot be fettered by the literal tenor of the orders given them. A command such as mine is, from its very nature, discretionary in the very comprehensive meaning of the word.”

He accepted a sheaf of papers handed to him by his counsel. “Honourable gentlemen, I have here sufficient evidence for my stand. That my project was known at cabinet level and that I acted with due discretion in the discharge of my duty. May therefore these be read into the record.”

“And this is the documentary evidence for your defence?”

“It is, Mr President.”

“Very well. Judge Advocate?”

One by one they were read out in open court, Jervis in ill-natured debate challenging their legitimacy as evidence, demanding corroboration, sarcastically questioning their relevance. But it appeared that Popham indeed had had the ear of the greatest in the land.

The picture they gave was of Popham moving in the very highest circles—accounts of his dealings with Miranda, the Venezuelan revolutionary, and early plans for a joint attack on Spanish South America. Letters from Pitt demanding more details, military estimates to meet secret plans, correspondence with the Admiralty and, in fact, the first lord himself on the subject.

“We will now call witnesses.”

The president of the court picked up 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, defensive.

Popham seemed nettled. “Were you one of the secretaries at the Treasury during the administration of Mr Pitt?”

“I was.”

“Then do you recall, sir, confidential information received by your office relative to the situation obtaining in Buenos Aires?”

“I have a faint recollection only.”

“Come, come, sir. Of such import, and bearing so on the—”

“I object—leading the witness!” rapped Jervis.

“Quite. Sir Home, in any case the witness has further admitted only an unreliable knowledge of this. I rule the question disallowed.”

“As the court pleases. Mr Bourne, do you recollect the confidence Mr Pitt reposed in me in respect of secret matters pertaining to South America and in particular the situation in the Rio de la Plata?”

“He mentioned you in cabinet discussions on the subject,” he said carefully.

“And did he not in your hearing seek my personal opinion on the officer to command the Cape expedition?”

“I have some remembrance of it, but not sufficiently strong for me to speak positively on it.”

Admiral Young interjected, “Sir Home, where your questioning is headed is not altogether clear to the court. I have but one question to put to the witness: Mr Bourne, in the conversations at which you were present with Mr Pitt and Sir Home Popham, was it determined or proposed to attack the Spanish settlements in South America after the assault on the Cape, in the event that it proved successful?”

“I recollect no proposal being made in any conversation respecting a descent on the Spanish settlements in South America.”

“Thank you. Have you any more questions for this witness, Sir Home?”

Bourne was stood down and William Huskisson was sworn in.

A young, intense individual, his prominent forehead and alert eyes gave an impression of high intelligence.

“Were you one of the principal secretaries in Mr Pitt’s government?”

“I was.”

“Do you recollect my taking leave of Mr Pitt in your room at the Treasury, immediately prior to my sailing for the Cape?”

“I do.”

“Was the impression at all on your mind that I had at that time a conversation with Mr Pitt on South America?”

Jervis objected immediately. “The question is illegal. How can the witness testify to what transpired when he was not present?”

“Sir Home?”

“Mr President, I cannot understand distinctly what the learned prosecutor means when he calls this illegal evidence. Unfortunately for me and the country, Mr Pitt is no more and I am therefore under the necessity of seeking that from others he could prove by himself were he alive. In the absence of this testimony I now adduce one of his most confidential friends in order to show the wish and views of that illustrious man.”

“We will allow the question.”

“I had the impression that the conversation related to South America, yes,” said Bourne.

“Sir, did you have any discussion with Mr Pitt yourself upon the subject of South America, particularly Buenos Aires?”

“I did have, as I was directed to take certain steps by his desire concerning Buenos Aires.”

“And what was the nature of this direction?”

“In that instance it was to explain the existence of a map or chart of the approaches being lately taken from the King of Spain’s depot in Madrid, being afterwards copied for the French military.”

“For what purpose, pray?”

“It was believed to form part of a design by the French for their own incursion, a likelihood which was not thought much of.”

“Sir Home,” the president came in, “I find myself under the painful necessity of intervening once again. Let the witness answer: did Mr Pitt at any time communicate to you any orders of a nature requiring Sir Home to attack Buenos Aires upon successful conquest of the Cape?”

“I certainly never understood from Mr Pitt that Sir Home had such positive or provisional orders, no, sir.”

“Sir Home?”

“Sir. It could be said that plans were well advanced for the reduction of the Spanish colonies when I sailed for the Cape. Were they not put in train to take effect once news of the successful taking of Cape Colony was received? That is to say, orders from Mr Pitt would have been issued if I had not exercised my discretion in view of rapidly advancing events?”

“I cannot speak to that. At this time there was no communication between myself and Mr Pitt, he being upon his death-bed.”

Popham’s hands clenched, once, and in a thick voice he asked, “How long have you been in post?”

“In a situation with the Admiralty? Why, sir, we may say above twelve years.”

“In a long experience as chief secretary to that board, can you state to the court whether in the trials of Admiral Byng, Lord Keppel, Sir Robert Calder, Admiral Duckworth—”

“Pray what is your question, Sir Home?” the president asked testily.

Popham went on doggedly, “—whether the charge was framed in such a manner as to call the court, ahead of the trial, to punish the individual to be tried?”

The witness looked helplessly at the president, who frowned.

“Sir Home, I’m at a loss to understand where this is leading. Kindly explain to the court what you expect the witness to disclose by this line of questioning.”

Popham breathed deeply. “I demand a precedent for the scandalous pre-judging of my case, by which I mean the charge, which contains an incitement to punish the defendant even before tried!”

“I cannot know what you mean by that, sir!”

“I quote from the charge, sir, read out in open court at the outset of this trial. It plainly states: ‘Whereas a due regard to the good of His Majesty’s service imperiously demands that so flagrant a breach of public duty should not go unpunished!’ This is not to be borne, sir!”

“I beg to know what we have to do with that,” the president rapped. “The Admiralty have the authority to word the charge as they please. They are not to be arraigned for wording the charge as they see proper. I have sat on fifty courts-martial or more and never heard such quibbling.”

Jervis looked sorrowfully at Popham. “And as learned counsel, my earnest advice is that censuring the Admiralty is not a way for the prisoner to defend himself.”

“Quite, quite,” the president rumbled. “This seems a good point to end the day, I believe.”

“What he said today didn’t help him, apparently,” Kydd said, tucking into more collops of fish. “Talk about Nelson and other great men leaving their station.”

Bowden reached for the sauce. “He has a point, surely. They quit their rightful station without orders—this is a precedent if ever there was one.”

“Not so! Consider the charge—it’s wonderfully crafted. They want to make sure of it, see him nailed to the bulkhead.” Kydd hesitated to say more in front of a former lieutenant in his ship. But he knew the young man could be trusted not to repeat what he said. “The charge is not for leaving station, it’s not for attacking South America, it’s not even for failing at Buenos Aires. It is that he’s guilty of sailing off and leaving the Cape undefended.”

“So …”

“You see, Nelson and all the other commanders had a battlefleet, which is meant to chase after the enemy. Popham had a fleet of sorts but its job was to stay in one spot to defend a territory, not sail off into the blue.”