The Baltic Gambit l-15

by Dewey Lambdin

  MacDougall ostentatiously cleaned his fingernails with a pen-knife 'til Sir George was done, then sprang to his feet like a Jack-in-the-Box.

  "My lord, gentlemen of the jury, I am not quite sure whether counsel for the plaintiff has just accused Captain Lewrie of outright theft, or of the lesser charge of illegal conversion! Either way, is it believable that the value of a human being's life, the value of his short and brutal labour, so back-breaking and hideous that most perish within five years, is only worth twenty-five pounds? And if so, why did not Hugh Beauman sue in the Court of Common Pleas for three hundred pounds?"

  He then encapsulated for the jury the injustice done his client at the trial on Jamaica; to which Sir George Norman made no objections… He might have been contemplating dinner, for his part was done. It was old news for the spectators, but visibly distasteful to the jury as they learned what a sham the trial in absentia had been, and the feud that had preceded it.

  "Now let us proceed, gentlemen, to the root cause," MacDougall said, returning to the Defence table for a letter that his clerk, Mr. Sadler, handed him. "Here is a letter from former Leftenant-Colonel Christopher Cashman, with whom Captain Lewrie allegedly conspired. I wish you to be patient as I read this affidavit, sworn before a Justice of the Peace in Wilmington, North Carolina, in the United States, and witnessed and notarised… which affidavit has already been presented to the court and laid in evidence."

  The affidavit laid out Cashman's career in both the British and East India Company armies, his return to the West Indies, his initial acceptance of slavery as a necessity to work his lands, his previous military service in conjunction with then Lieutenant Lewrie during the last year of the American Revolution, and their rencontre in the '90s, when he had been asked by the Beaumans to lead the volunteer regiment. The botched battle, Ledyard Beauman's cowardice, and the feud that followed, which led to the duel. Then…

  "By this time, I was heartily sick of Jamaica, heartily sick of the Beaumans, and all their brute class, and, most especially, sick of the horrid institution of slavery, a view which I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my old friend Alan Lewrie wholeheartedly shared," MacDougall stressed, pacing urgently before the jury box as he read on. He'd sold some of his slaves off, the most troublesome and truculent, but freed the bulk of them. Then as he was selling up, after the duel, it had been Cashman who had suggested freeing some of Beauman's slaves as well.

  " 'I took it upon myself to approach the field hands of Mister Hugh Beauman's plantation next to mine on Portland Bight, using one of my newly freed house servants as intermediary, hinting that those among them who wished to run and join the Royal Navy would be welcome aboard a frigate which would be off the coast in a few days. I then suggested to my fellow Abolitionist, Alan Lewrie, that, was his crew so decimated by Yellow Fever that he was in difficulties to keep her manned, there could be a round dozen eager volunteers available… ' "

  Lyin' like a Turkey carpet! Lewrie flummoxed to himself in the dock; Didn't happen quite like that. A damned good lie, though!

  " '… night that Proteus closed the coast, I rode down shoreward, to the edge of my property, which abutted the Beaumans' lands, and with a great deal of satisfaction, watched as the boats came ashore, a dozen young men embark into them, and was, for a time, fearful that the commotion from their parents and kinfolk, who had come down the beach with them to see them off, might awaken the overseers, for such lamentations of loss, yet joyful hosannahs of relief that some few of their fellows might gain their freedom, were hardly to be contained no matter the need for quiet and secrecy. At that moment I felt such a rush of pride that it was successfully carried off, without interruption, along with such a flood of emotion that brought tears to my eyes to see even a few young men escape the clutches of the Beaumans, and take their freedom from a life that is little better than a death sentence, that I swore at that moment that not only would I abjure from owning another human being in my life, but would work tirelessly to see slavery outlawed in all the nations of the earth, no matter what that stance personally cost me.'"

  "The words of a man who now resides in a nation which upholds slavery… in a state famed for its agriculture, and naval stores… all of which require Negro slave labour. In a town where such views are anathema, where, once the contents of Colonel Cashman's affidavit are known to his fellow citizens, he very likely faces social and financial ruin, sirs. Consider what courage that took for him to testify on Captain Lewrie's behalf," MacDougall posed to the jury.

  "Milud," Sir George Norman said with a piteous smirk as he rose to his feet, "it would seem that my learned colleague has just admitted his principal's guilt!"

  "To what specific crime, my lord, does Sir George refer?" Mr. MacDougall quickly retorted, plucking the front of his black court robe. "Does he maintain that Captain Lewrie instigated and premeditated the crime of Robbery, in the face of Leftenant-Colonel Cashman's confessing affidavit? Or does he wish to now reduce his accusations to Conversion of Property? The waters must be un-muddied upon this head for the clarification of the jury, my lord. Let us be specific."

  Has he lost his fuckin' mind? Lewrie could but goggle quietly.

  Lord Justice Oglethorpe scratched his scalp under his bag-wig with a pencil, scowled, pursed his lips, then impatiently waved both barristers forward to the front of his bench, where ensued a lengthy, hushed conversation; one that must have pleased MacDougall right down to the ground, for, when Oglethorpe shooed them away, he had a bright smile plastered on his phyz, whilst Sir George Norman was shaking his head.

  "Ahem… upon reception of the confession from Mister Christopher Cashman, counsel for the plaintiffs has amended his accusations to a charge of illegal Conversion. Silence! Silence in the…!" He had to cry and gavel for order as the spectators raised yet another great cheer.

  "Now, let us see how the event occurred, that dark night off the coast of Portland Bight, three years ago," Mr. MacDougall said in the relative silence, after the crowd had settled down once more. He waved to his clerk, Mr. Sadler, and another assistant, who stood up the easel and hung the bed sheet-sized roll of cloth upon the cross-piece, allowing it to fall open.

  Wonder what that cost? Lewrie thought, shifting in his chair in the dock to look at it. MacDougall had gone to a chart maker's for an up-to-date map of that section of coast, compared the new one to the old one that Proteus's Sailing Master, Mr. Winwood, had used, and had an artist or sign painter do up a large-scale version in full colour; pale blue wash for ocean, rocky shoals in grey, sand bars in tan, and land in pale green, with forests and fields done in a darker green. A topographic map of the plantations in question surely must have come from Jamaica, as well, for the Beaumans', and Cashman's, plantings were delineated quite accurately, right down to the locations of the houses, barns, and slave quarters; all of them neatly labelled, as was the beach where the ship's boats had grounded; and all distances from specific points clearly marked, corresponding to a distance scale in the lower left corner.

  "At this point, my lord, I call Lieutenant Adair to testify," MacDougall intoned, going all solemn, now that he was at the meat of the matter.

  MacDougall worked his way down through the Commission officers to Mr. Winwood, and the Purser, Mr. Coote, showing how the "crime" was committed. Sir George Norman sat mum at his table through it all, a befuddled and seemingly disinterested air about him. Under English Common Law, he had no right to cross-examine witnesses, and, with no witnesses of his own to present in rebuttal, his continued presence was merely decorative.

  Yet MacDougall did not stick to the distances, the times, or the particular actions that Lewrie's juniors had performed that night; to Lt. Adair, he posed the question of what he heard and saw on shore.

  Had the other slaves been celebrating?

  "They were, sir," Adair stated. "I was fearful that their cries might rouse the overseers." The form of it? "Tears, and hugging, and handshaking, sir. Joy and sadness, mixed. Soft singing, and such."<
br />
  "And once into the boats and making your way back to Proteus, sir, did anything odd occur?" MacDougall asked.

  "We heard barking, sir," Lt. Adair answered. "At first, I imagined that the overseers and their dogs were near the beach, but in a short time, we discovered that the barking came from seals, sir."

  "Seals, Lieutenant Adair?" MacDougall said, striking a surprised pose, obviously with foreknowledge of what Adair would say. "In the West Indies? Are they not hunted out?"

  "It was… eerie, sir," Adair declared. "Aye, seals are rare in those seas, but that night, they appeared all round us. Every man at the oars saw them, and commented on them. A dozen or more of them, swimming about our boats, just beyond the reach of the oars, right to the ship's side, sir, where the rest of the crew saw and heard them, as well."

  "And what did you make of that, sir?" MacDougall crooned.

  "God's blessing 'pon our action, sir," Lt. Adair solemnly said, then smiled. "Captain Lewrie and seals, well sid, 'als, wellr… 'tis mysterious how often seals have appeared in warning or… almost approval, sir, just before Captain Lewrie went into a fight. For so is the rumour in the Fleet about him, d'ye see, sir. A minor miracle, some say."

  Did the dozen slaves sign aboard willingly? Were they fed and clothed, kitted, and paid, the same as any English sailor? Were any of them troublemakers, drunkards, discipline problems; were any of the Black sailors stupid, were any of them cowards? MacDougall asked him.

  Willingly, aye; treated the same as any volunteer; very little trouble from any of them; the usual binges on runs ashore, which were rare, same as British tars; illiterate, but not stupid, for many went on from Landsman to Ordinary Seaman, two had been rated Able in short time, and, there were certainly no cowards among them. The runaways were as brave as lions, every Man Jack, Lt. Adair could swear.

  Lt. Gamble and Midshipman Grace reiterated Adair's high opinion of them, whilst Mr. Winwood told of their muster-aboard baths under a wash-deck pump and hose, which he likened to their baptism into a new life; how little they'd been told of Christianity, and the sacrifice and resurrection of the Saviour (which had many a lady in the courtroom dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief) and how he had taken it on himself to minister to their spiritual needs and education, seeing as how HMS Proteus did not, at that time, rate a Chaplain willing to ship to the Fever Isles of the West Indies.

  "Are you conversant with slavery laws in the Crown colonies, Mister Winwood?" MacDougall finally asked.

  "Somewhat, sir. More so now, than previous," Winwood intoned in his sober and ponderous manner; and frowned when his comment was taken as slightly humourous by the spectators.

  "What charge may be laid against a slave who runs away from his master or mistress, Mister Winwood?" MacDougall pressed.

  "Uhm… that, since he is not a free man, sir, only property,… not reckoned a man at all, really… that he is guilty of stealing himself, I believe," Winwood replied.

  "Guilty of stealing himself?" MacDougall pretended consternation in a loud voice. "And the punishment would be what? An hundred lashes? Pilloried in the stocks? Branded? His hamstrings cut so he may only limp? A foot cut off with an axe?"

  "I have heard-tell that one, or all, of those punishments are awarded, sir," Mr. Winwood agreed in grave sadness, shaking his head sorrowfully. "A second unsuccessful attempt may result in death by the lash, or being hung."

  "Do civilised people do such to cows that stray, horses that take the bitt 'tween their teeth and gallop?" MacDougall posed. "To a dog that piddles on carpet? A cat which climbs a tree?"

  "Indeed not, sir!" Winwood said.

  "Yet many slaves do risk such punishments each year, do they not, Mister Winwood? Steal themselves and run… on Jamaica, to the so-called Cockpit Country… to the Blue Mountains, and the jungles, don't they? What do they call them, Mister Winwood?"

  "They do, sir. They call them Maroons," Winwood answered.

  "Do you believe that Captain Lewrie is a thief, Mister Winwood? One who received stolen property for his own use, sir?"

  "No, sir. In this instance, I would call him a Christian gentleman," the Sailing Master somberly replied, turning to look the men of the jury in the eyes. "You might as well put me on trial, for what we did that night… I only wish we'd had a ship of the line, 'stead of a frigate, in need of hands, and taken all of them away."

  MacDougall paced back towards the Defence table, but paused in midstride and whipped about. "One last question of you, sir… If, under Jamaican slave law, the Blacks in this matter stole themselves, who, then, used them for his own purposes, Mister Winwood… Captain Alan Lewrie, or King George the Third, in whose service twelve brave Black men willingly volunteered, and five of whom have perished?"

  "Now, I must object, milud!" Sir George Norman cried, shooting to his feet, roused from his nodding stupor at last. "The witness is a Warrant Officer in the Navy, not a legal scholar, and cannot form a legal judgement, in the first instance, and… for honoured counsel for the Defence to suggest that his Majesty shares any guilt in this crime is abominable and shameful, in the second!"

  "Withdrawn, my lord," MacDougall offered, hiding his amusement. "I have no more questions for this witness."

  "The insult to the Crown, milud!" Sir George pressed.

  "Mister MacDougall," Lord Justice Oglethorpe said with a dyspeptic scowl or warning, "you are known for frippery in court, but let me caution you to eschew any suggestion of lиse-majestй against our Sovereign."

  "The question is withdrawn, my lord," MacDougall said, looking a trifle hurt, like a boy caught skylarking and called down for it. "An injudicious phrase, when the proper statement might have been the Royal Navy, or Great Britain, which prospered from the services of the sailors in question, rather than our King. I stand admonished, milord."

  "Very well, then. You have more witnesses?" Oglethorpe asked.

  "I do, my lord."

  "It is now nearly a quarter to twelve," the Lord Justice said, "so we shall adjourn for dinner. Proceedings shall resume this afternoon, at half past one."

  "All rise!" the chief bailiff intoned.

  Once Oglethorpe had left the courtroom, Lewrie came down from the raised and railed dock to join MacDougall, who was shedding his peruke and putting it in a small wood box, and shrugging out of his robes. "A deuced good morning, sir," MacDougall told him, all smiles and high spirits. "A splendid beginning. Imagine! A trial that will take all day, why, we'll be the talk of the town by supper, and atop the front pages of all the papers by tomorrow morning, ha ha! Hungry, are you, Captain Lewrie? There's a delightful chop-house not a five minutes' stroll from here."

  "Aye, I s'pose," Lewrie allowed. "You think we did well?"

  "Extremely well, sir," MacDougall was quick to assure him, with a Puckish grin.

  "I thought just laying out how we… committed the deed, just like that," Lewrie fretted, "would doom us. Me."

  "As I shall tell the jury this afternoon, Captain Lewrie, was the deed an act of criminality… or, was it a deed of liberation? I will fill the afternoon with the testimony of your Black sailors, and there will not be a dry eye in the courtroom, once I'm done. Not one stony heart unmoved. Ready, Mister Sadler? Shall we go, then, for I am famished."

  Lewrie fingered a breeches pocket to assure himself that his coin purse was still present, and that it was suitably stuffed with a sufficiency of bank notes and coins, enough to bear the cost of dinner with such imposing trenchermen as MacDougall and Sadler. No matter the financial support of the Abolitionists, and other "Progressives," for his legal expenses (and all those visual aids), dealing with attorneys was a dear business.

  "As a matter of fact, Captain Lewrie," MacDougall said as he stowed away his court wear, "I am so sanguine about the rest of the day that, this once, allow me to treat."

  Lewrie's jaw, it here must be noted, dropped rather far.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The afternoon's testimony indeed turned out to be emotional and dramatic as
Mr. MacDougall put all seven surviving Black sailors in the witness box, and led each of them first through their wretched lives as chattel slaves in the West Indies, and on the Beauman plantation in particular, then about their flight, their reception aboard Capt. Lewrie's frigate, and their experiences in the Royal Navy, since.

  Shoddy clothing, if clothed at all; the poorest, meanest rations of condemned salt-beef or salt-pork, bug-infested rice, and but a few fresh greens or vegetables, with even so-called holiday victuals of a barely unremitted sameness, for even the rare duffs or puddings were, though cooked on a sugar cane plantation, sadly lacking in sweetness. How prime field hands, sleek when first they came from the slave ships and the vendue houses, wasted away to skin, gristle, and bones before three years were out… which was considered a bargain by unfeeling masters, considering the sad, low price placed on a human being they'd initially paid. There were always ships arriving with healthy slaves from Africa, the barracks and pens were continually full, and prices for people were nigh as low as those for cattle.

  Crude huts for shelters, leaf-stuffed sacks for bedding on the dirt floors at night, exposed round the clock to insects and weather; up before the sun to the tolling of bells and the crack of whips, poor victuals choked down after being scooped by hand from communal pots, then back-breaking labour 'til the sun was all but set, with only one brief break in the shade for a miser's dinner.

  And whips, and chains, and choke-collar boards round their necks for the slightest act of mis-behaviour, hot irons to brand recalcitrant shirkers; hot irons to sear the tongue from those who dared speak back without being asked a question, or for the merest suspicion of lying to an overseer, master, or mistress.

  Poisonous snakes had been imported from Africa and India, turned loose in the surrounding forests to make sure that slaves wouldn't dare run off without risking a "five-stepper" death.