Under Enemy Colors (55 page)

Gardner continued. “When you took the transport at Brest, Captain Hart was in his cot, ill. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir, until some little time after we fired the warning gun.”

“And did he, in truth, order the boats back to the ship when you were about to board the prize?”

Whose journal contained that? Hayden wondered. He looked from one captain to another. They were asking him to admit that he had disobeyed his captain’s direct order.

Sensing the source of his hesitation, Gardner held out an open hand. “Fear not, Mr Hayden. Nothing you say here will be used against you in any way. You have my word.”

Hayden drew in a long breath. “Yes, sir. Captain Hart did order the boats back to the
Themis
.” He almost added that Captain Bourne had heard these orders most distinctly, but did not want to involve his friend without his permission. Bourne, Hayden recalled, had not included this damning information in his letter to the Admiralty.

“And when you came to Captain Bourne’s assistance, after he had engaged the
Dragoon
at Belle Île, this was of your own initiative, not upon the orders of Captain Hart?”

“It was, sir. I believe Captain Bourne and the
Lucy
’s lieutenant will bear that out.”

“And finally…did Hart order you to pursue the
Themis
after you brought him aboard the
Dragoon
? Subsequent to the mutiny, I mean.”

“No, sir. He did not.”

“This was entirely your own decision?”

“It was, sir.”

“Did Captain Hart advise you in any way? Certainly he must have sent you his encouragement and blessing?”

“I regret to say that no such words were sent to me.”

The captains all looked one to the other, unable to hide their growing distress and resentment. No one wanted to speak aloud that Hart had, infamously, ordered the
Dragoon
back to Plymouth and had even tried to wrest control of the prize from Hayden, but clearly they were aware of it, even if they did not want to believe it of a fellow captain.

McLeod then took up the enquiry. “Mr Hayden, soon after you sailed from Torbay it would seem that two unknown vessels were sighted but there ensued disagreement among the officers as to what they were. If one reads between the lines in your sailing master’s account, one might be led to believe these were likely transports, not enemy frigates. What was your opinion?”

Hayden met the captain’s gaze. “I believed them to be transports, Captain McLeod. Certainly they turned and ran for Le Havre upon perceiving us, which I don’t believe frigates would have done so quickly, given their superiority of numbers.”

McLeod appeared to be containing a slow-boiling rage. His speech was clipped and very clear. “But you did not give chase to make certain?”

“Captain Hart ordered that we shape our course for Brest.”

McLeod shook his head, his eyes, for a moment, closing. “My last question, Mr Hayden,” he said, turning his attention back to the lieutenant. “You did indeed inform Captain Hart after the crew all but refused to sail when leaving Plymouth?”

“I did, sir, and he answered as I repeated in the court-martial today.”

“He blamed you?”

“More or less, yes.”

“Rather more, I think.” He turned to Spencer.

Spencer seemed either the most amiable of the gentlemen present or the most skilled at hiding his emotions, for he regarded Hayden very calmly. “The discontent among the crew was manifest when you first came aboard Hart’s ship? You have no doubt of it?”

“No doubt whatsoever, sir.”

Spencer seemed to have been quickly convinced. “Then you have said all I need to hear.”

Gardner looked to the other gentlemen and Hayden could see North hesitating, then the man turned to Hayden. “I would like to know, Mr Hayden, how the master’s log went missing and how and where it was found.”

For a moment Hayden meant to answer, but then thought better of it. “It was stolen from the master’s cabin, but if you don’t mind, Captain North, I would rather not answer the rest of that question.” There were others involved, and if one of these captains was not what he seemed, Hayden did not want to endanger Worth and his companions.

Gardner interrupted as North began to insist. “We have assured Mr Hayden he could choose not to answer, and we must respect that. I think it is safe to assume that the log was stolen by persons to whom its contents offered the most harm. I don’t think we need Mr Hayden to tell us who that would be.” He turned to Hayden and smiled. “Thank you, Mr Hayden, you have been most helpful. I think you will agree that it would be best for all concerned if you did not speak of this conversation…”

Hayden quickly agreed.

“I will have you returned to your ship.”

Hayden rose, bade them farewell, and went to the door, but then, emboldened by frustration, turned back to the gathered captains. “Sir. What is to happen to me tomorrow? Captain Hart has done much to damage me in the eyes of the panel.”

“There are twelve captains on the panel, Mr Hayden, and we are but four. Even so, we will do everything that is within our powers to aid you. I wish I could say that we will carry the day, but I cannot make that promise.” He patted the master’s log. “We have some ammunition, at least.”

“It is my impression that Captain Hart has many friends among the members of the panel.”

“Perhaps, but I believe there are still some willing to chance the wrath of Mrs Hart’s family in a just cause. Or so I hope.”

W
hat shall we do with our Mr Aldrich?” Hawthorne lamented. “For a man so learned he is frighteningly obtuse, is he not?”

The
Themis
’ officers were spread rather randomly about the captain’s barren cabin. They had been discussing what might occur on the morrow, and Hayden had just related his earlier conversation with Aldrich.

“I have seen it many times before,” Archer’s brother said, “a certain kind of genius married very closely to a ruinous imprudence. No offence meant to Mr Aldrich, but if he cannot limit that great and wandering intellect he shall come to grief, I fear.”

A knock was followed by officer of the watch, Lieutenant Archer, thrusting his head in the open door. “Mr Hayden. The provost-marshal is alongside. He has come for one of our people, sir.”

“Whom?”

“He will only speak with you, sir.”

Hayden, Griffiths, and Hawthorne came to their feet as one, and hastened onto the deck. In the fading light, the provost-marshal stood waiting by the rail.

“May I be of service?” Hayden asked.

The man held out a folded and sealed letter. “From the judge-advocate of the court-martial, sir. Regrettably, Able Seaman Peter Aldrich has been charged with the crimes of mutinous assembly and mutiny under the Articles of War.”

Hayden broke the seal and read the document, which, indeed, demanded that Aldrich be placed immediately into the custody of the provost-marshal.

“This cannot be,” Griffiths spoke up. “Aldrich is in my care and I will not release him. His health will not bear it.”

“Sir, I have the license of the court. He must be given up to me.”

“I must agree with Dr Griffiths,” Hayden said. “Aldrich has suffered a serious reversal of his health. I will speak to the judge-advocate and the president of the court tomorrow and explain that we cannot release him into anyone’s custody until his health is materially restored.”

But the provost-marshal would not be so easily put off. “Sir, you put me in a difficult circumstance. I am ordered to place him among the other prisoners charged with mutiny.”

Hayden shook his head, feigning a look of great concern and seriousness. “And I should happily comply, would Aldrich’s health allow it. I shall take all responsibility for the court’s displeasure, sir. I give you my word.”

The man wavered a moment, then nodded, made a little bow, and retreated over the rail down into the waiting boat. When the boat began to immerse into the gloom, Hayden said quietly, “And I wondered, Doctor, why you had returned Aldrich to the sick-berth.”

“I feared these very circumstances. There is a great deal to be lost by appearances, as we all know. If he is among the mutineers he must extricate himself, but if he stands among us, and we can convince the officers of the court that he deserves to be with us, then they must prove him guilty.”

“I don’t know if it will make any difference, but we shall do everything within our power.”

I
t is judged by the court that there is enough evidence to justify these very serious charges that have been laid.” Admiral Duncan folded his hands together and placed them on the table. “Peter Aldrich will have the opportunity to defend himself, as will every man so charged. If you can ensure his detention, Mr Hayden, we will leave him in the care of your surgeon for the time being.”

“He is far too ill to make any attempt to escape, sir, but we shall keep him under guard until he is recovered enough to be placed with the other prisoners.”

“That will satisfy, Mr Hayden,” Duncan replied.

“While we are deciding who shall be charged,” Bainsbridge broke in, “let us return to the matter of Mr Hayden, who stands before us. I believe we now have heard enough evidence to conclude that the disaffection of the crew began while the lieutenant had command of the
Themis
in the absence of Captain Hart. In truth, I believe it is clear that Mr Hayden and his lax methods were the cause of it.”

Several members of the panel nodded their heads in agreement and more than one said, “Hear.”

“Perhaps we have been attending different courts-martial,” Captain North countered quickly. “I, for one, have not heard near enough ‘evidence’ to make me wish to take the unprecedented step of including in this court-martial Mr Hayden or any other man who was not on the ship at the time of the mutiny. Quite the contrary.”

Several members of the panel began to argue this at once, but Duncan raised his voice over all and brought silence to the cabin. The people watching all leaned a little forward, and Hayden observed Wickham glance his way. He forced his hands to unclench.

“It is clear we are divided on this matter,” Bainsbridge offered into the silence. “I propose we put it to a vote.”

“This is not a parliament, Captain Bainsbridge,” Duncan responded angrily, “or so I might remind you. We do not vote on matters of jurisprudence. I have decided not to include any men who were not aboard the
Themis
at the time of the mutiny and that is my final word on the matter. You may return to your place, Mr Hayden.”

Bainsbridge did not seem the least intimidated by the anger of Admiral Duncan. “Well, I am not satisfied. Mr Hayden is escaping a situation for which he was chiefly responsible. Justice is not being served.”

Duncan clearly took offence at this last remark, and drew himself up, face rigid.

Hayden proceeded to his seat, well aware that the dispute over his fate had not been decided.

Gardner spoke at that moment, his voice reasonable and calm. “I believe Captain Bainsbridge is correct in one thing: we have not looked sufficiently into the question of who bears responsibility for this mutiny. It is clear that the unhappy event could not have been quite the surprise Captain Hart first suggested. I would like to revisit the incident at Brest…when the transport was taken. Let us call upon Captain Hart once again, for I have read the account in the master’s log—in truth, I have read all the officers’ journals—and have many questions. I realize that Captain Hart was in his cot at the time and only emerged onto the deck after Mr Hayden had gone away in the boats to take the transport, but certainly Captain Hart perceived trouble among the members of the crew—marines with levelled muskets were keeping the men at the guns, after all. And yet he has claimed there were no signs of unrest among his crew. And what of the refusal to sail at Plymouth and this petition mentioned by the master? I understand the captain was once again in his cot, but surely he must have much to add to our knowledge of these events.”

“Yes,” a man behind Hayden whispered to his companion, “strip the blackguard of his borrowed feathers.”

Bainsbridge began a quick kneading of the spot over his heart. “I believe these matters have been dealt with most thoroughly, Captain Gardner.”

Hayden saw Hart’s barrister glance at his client as though to say,
Did I not warn you?
Hart looked discomfited, but also a little confused. It occurred to Hayden that Hart did not quite perceive what went on. That his own perversity in bringing up Aldrich and the pamphlets and then trying to shift the blame to Hayden had begun all the difficult questions that followed. And now Gardner threatened to reveal all of his shyness and negligence of duty before the court.

Captain Gardner leaned forward and levelled his gaze at Bainsbridge. “If we are going to talk of including officers who were not even aboard the
Themis
at the time of the mutiny, I say we should be doubly rigorous in our quizzing of those most likely to have answers: the officers and crew who
were
aboard at the time of the mutiny. The accounts of the master and of the officers suggest much fertile ground for such an enquiry.”

Bainsbridge was so taken aback by this that for a moment he could not speak. Surely he comprehended Gardner’s repeated insinuation that there was damaging evidence against his friend Hart in the various logs and journals.

“Perhaps the admiral is correct in this,” Bainsbridge answered quietly, “and I am being obdurate in the matter of Mr Hayden. But I strongly oppose going back over events that have already been deliberated. I object to it most emphatically.” He nodded in deferral to Duncan, but his eye was on Gardner, who sat back in his chair and interlocked his fingers on the table before him. Hayden thought the man might smile, but he did not.

Simpson, the youngest captain on the panel, waved a hand in dismissal. “You both search in the wrong place to find the guilty. It is the men who attempted to deliver one of our frigates to the French who must bear all blame. I am only interested to know if Captain Hart and his crew did everything within their powers to resist these traitors, and it is clear from the evidence given by the gentlemen who have spoken thus far that their defence of the ship was more than spirited—it was exemplary. That is what we are here to discover. Let us move on.”

“Yes,” Duncan pronounced, “let us proceed. Who is next to be heard?”

And proceed they did. Hardly a question was asked this day but what did each man do to resist the mutineers, and if they could not resist, why? Even Gardner had no questions about the causes, mutinous language, or assembly. He did not pursue Mr Barthe’s assertion that the crew had been ready to refuse to sail with Hart and to petition the Admiralty for his removal. The warrant officers and midshipmen were very quickly heard, and then the crew even more perfunctorily. The great cabin was cleared so that the captains might consider their judgement in private, and Hayden went up onto the deck with a few of the
Themis
’ officers, where they stood speaking quietly.

“What in hell’s name has just occurred?” Barthe asked quietly. “I had not finished having my say. What of the matters we spoke of but one day past? Have they forgotten?”

“Not forgotten, merely chosen to ignore,” Archer’s brother said, earning a look of disgust from the ship’s master, who then turned away. “Some arrangement has been reached during the hours of darkness, but whom it will favour is beyond my powers to predict.”

Hayden’s stomach had been worrying him all morning; now it began to churn terribly at this news. He went to the rail and stared off across the listless bay. Gardner had not sounded overly confident that he could sway the panel, though Hayden owed him thanks for silencing Bainsbridge and protecting him from being charged. It was still possible that he would be censured by the court. They could hold him responsible but not find him guilty—which would have much the same effect on his career and on the way he would be perceived in the eye of the public. All his attempts to force Hart to carry war to the enemy had resulted in this?

For two hours the crew of the
Themis
paced the deck—a windless watch, the day metallic—leaden sky, mercuric sea. The gulls did not fly but bobbed slowly upon the harbour slick, mute, and mournful. The tension in the faces of the men, in their carriage, was not easily hidden. There was surprisingly little conversation, and that whispered.

“Do you think it will be much longer?” was asked several times within Hayden’s hearing—each time by a different man.

The middies gathered together by the rail and talked quietly among themselves, solicitous of one another, their mouths all squared by anxiety. Hart and Landry stayed apart and were approached by no one—shunned. Several intense, whispered conversations ensued with their barrister, but no one took any notice. For all the brotherliness of captains, Hayden thought that Hart looked quite anxious—which well he should. If the truth ever came out about him he would never recover.

Perhaps an hour into this fretful watch Dr Griffiths stopped Hayden’s deliberate progress across the deck.

“Was it just my misperception, Mr Hayden, or did it appear that Gardner and Bainsbridge reached an accommodation—no mention of mutinous assembly or petitions or incidents at Plymouth, and in exchange Bainsbridge left off insisting that you be included in the court-martial?”

Hayden could not speak of his meeting with Captain Gardner and other members of the panel. “I believe that was no misperception.”

“Good to have Gardner on your side. He seems formidable.”

“Those gentlemen are all formidable, and Hart has more friends on the panel than I.”

The doctor stood closer than normally he would, speaking very low. “The longer they debate the less sure am I of the outcome. I thought that all was decided before we began today. I can’t imagine what it is they argue now.”

“A baronetcy for Hart? Post rank for Landry? Infamy for all the rest?”

Griffiths tried to smile. “It is too true to make jest of, I fear. I understand they require a surgeon of the hulks—my next commission.”

Hawthorne joined them. “Did I hear laughter? Muted, but laughter all the same?”

“We are discussing our likely futures,” Hayden replied.

“Ah. Now, that is a subject for drollery. Do you think it possible to pay passage to Canada and buy a sizeable plot of land for ten pounds thruppence?”

“Why travel so far, Mr Hawthorne?” Griffiths enquired. “Why not simply purchase a manor house here in England and ride to the hounds and spend the rest of your days at sport? Certainly you could do all that for ten pounds and have thruppence left to guard against misfortune.”

“You, Doctor, should know that any respectable manor house would cost at least three times that sum. No, it is the cold winters of Canada for me.”

“You have not a thing to smile about.” Barthe stopped in his orbit of the deck, his usually florid face pallid and doughy in the flat light. “I have been in this exact position before—waiting upon the pleasure of the court—and I will tell you, no joy will come of it. Hart shall prance away with a light step and the court will bring down its harshest judgement upon those least able to defend themselves.” He gazed at his companions a moment, an odd look coming over his face. “But perhaps you should laugh while you may. There will be no mirth when all is done.”

The officers and crew of the
Themis
went warily down into the great cabin and stood, hats in hand, their manner funereal, only the deck offering up an occasional complaint as the men shifted about upon the planks. Among the captains of the panel Hayden saw no smiles. Indeed, they appeared almost to a man out of sorts or displeased, as though what had transpired satisfied no one. The lieutenant felt his mouth go dry, fists forming into tight balls.

The admiral stood, taking up a sheet of paper that lay before him. “It is the decision of this court-martial that Captain Sir Josiah Hart and his officers and loyal crew did vigorously defend their ship against the mutiny of the sixth of October but were overwhelmed by superior numbers and surprise. Captain Sir Josiah Hart, his officers, and crew are therefore honourably acquitted.”

There was, for a brief second, silence, and Hayden waited for Duncan to go on, to speak his name, announce the utter ruin of his career. But the admiral instead turned to one of the captains and began speaking quietly. The court-martial was over.

Hayden did not know whether to be relieved or enraged. He slumped in his chair a moment as congratulations were being offered all around. Someone pumped his hand. And then another. Over the babble, Muhlhauser shouted something that did not register. At least one frightened crewman hid his face and wept.

The crowd in the cabin all began to file out, following the jubilant crew of the
Themis
, some of whom began to caper before they reached the door. Hayden stood and waited for the people next him to move. Griffiths caught his eye and smiled, obviously relieved, though certainly the surgeon had never been in the least danger.

Hayden wondered if he should speak with Gardner, but then seeing the crush around the captains of the panel thought better of it. He did notice, as he shuffled out with the crowd, Hart approach Duncan and the other members of the panel. These gentlemen stood in small groups by their tables, speaking among themselves and to a few friends. As Hart came up to the admiral, Duncan turned his back on the man and began speaking to North in such a way as to brook no intrusion. For a moment Hart stood, a blush of crimson overspreading his face. He then turned his attention to Spencer, who cut him just as sharply. Bainsbridge and a few others came to Hart’s rescue then, leading him quickly away.