“Mr Hayden?” The scrubbed face of Midshipman Hobson appeared in the just-opened door.
The first lieutenant sat at the gunroom table, reading over the accounts of the mutiny written by the crew, or rather, dictated by the foremast hands, most of whom could not write.
Archer’s brother, who had arrived from London the previous day, had taken on the defence of the officers, and offered much advice to aid them in writing their accounts. Having been privy to much of this, Hayden had put this valuable information to use in aiding the poor Jacks, most of whom were less able to defend themselves. Aldrich and young Perse had also transcribed numerous accounts.
“They have fired a gun from the admiral’s ship, sir.”
“I shall be with you momentarily.” Hayden gathered up all the papers, arranging them carefully. Perse wrapped them in an oilskin to protect them from wet. Taking up his hat, Hayden went on deck, where he found the other officers of the Themis, all in their best uniforms, neck-cloths tied just so. A few tried to smile at him, but failed miserably, and their attempts to reassure one another seemed terribly forced. Hayden had not seen them so distressed, even before an action.
They took their places in the boats, which bore them quickly over to the seventy-four-gun ship that would act as their courthouse for the next few days. Despite having not been named in the charges, due to his good fortune of being aboard the prize, Hayden still felt a great deal of apprehension. The entire business was a sordid shame, and he could not help but fear his own fortunes would be brought low by what was about to transpire.
Hart had sent out a note the previous evening, asking that his barge be dispatched for him a quarter of an hour before the court-martial was to begin, and Hayden spotted him now: the stiff, unhappy faces of his oarsmen as they bent silently to work, Hart and Landry seated in the stern-sheets with Sir Hubert Chatham.
“Slack off a little, Mr Childers,” Hayden said to the coxswain, who had begged not to be sent for Hart. “Let the captain go aboard before us.”
They hung back while Hart went up the side, painfully slowly.
“How has he healed, do you think?” Hayden asked Griffiths, but the doctor shook his head.
“Better than Aldrich, whose health has been ruined, I fear.”
A moment later they went up the side of the ship, where all the officers but Hayden and Wickham were placed in the custody of the provost-marshal.
“Good luck,” Hayden wished the men, as he and Wickham—not named in the court-martial directly—were spectators only and were separated from the men charged.
A few moments later the rest of the crew—those who had been put off from the Themis in the boats—came aboard, for every man would be required to account for his actions during the mutiny. If the officers appeared daunted, the crewmen looked positively despairing, and Hayden went over and offered them what cheer he could, telling them that they had nothing to fear. Many of these men had been wounded or otherwise injured in defence of the ship, and still wore dressings or had visible wounds, a fact that Hayden thought could not be ignored by the court.
The captain’s cabin had been cleared of its bulkheads, and three tables, the centre one hardly larger than a desk, set before the stern gallery. A rarefied autumn light streamed in the windows that day, reflections off the water sending brilliant ribbons rippling across the white deckhead. The twelve captains who would make up the judicial panel took their places at the tables, and at the centre, in place of the port admiral, sat Admiral Frederick Duncan, the senior admiral at that time present. Opposite Admiral Duncan, and facing the windows, stood a desk placed for the judge-advocate. Off to one side, at the sufferance of the court, was a small writing-table where the legal advisors of the accused could easily speak to their clients.
The spectators were to either side in neat rows of chairs, and separated from the court by ropes covered in green baize. The crew of the Themis arranged themselves behind the judge-advocate, officers and young gentlemen to the fore, warrant officers behind, and then the crew. They would be allowed to hear each other’s testimony, a consideration that would certainly not be extended to the mutineers, who would face their own court-martial in the coming days.
Before the court-martial was called to order, Muhlhauser appeared, and took up a seat beside Hayden, with a whispered greeting. He still had one arm in a conspicuous sling, but otherwise appeared hale.
The captains were first sworn in, and Hayden found himself a little intimidated by the presence of these men, all but one of whom were high up on the captains’ list and commanded ships of the line—seventy-fours and larger. They had about them, to a man, a sense of near-majesty, an aura of intimidating, almost frightening, authority. They were well used to giving orders that would see men’s lives end, or would put into danger a ship’s entire company. They would not hesitate to order an execution if they thought it justified.
The judge-advocate rose and stated the purpose of the court-martial: “…to enquire into the causes and circumstances of the seizure of His Majesty’s Ship Themis, commanded by Captain Sir Josiah Hart, and try the said Captain Hart and such officers and crew as were present for their conduct on that occasion.”
The first man called to be examined was Hart and as he took his place, standing to the left of the judge-advocate, the onlookers fell completely silent, everyone leaning forward just a little. Hart appeared pale and aged, Hayden thought, his skin dull and flaccid. He leaned upon a walking stick in apparent pain.
“Can we not have a chair for Sir Josiah?” one of the captains on the panel asked. “The good captain’s health is yet fragile.”
This was granted without discussion, and Hart lowered his substantial bulk into the seat, though conspicuously mindful not to let his injured person contact the chair back.
“If it pleases the court,” he began in a thin voice, “due to my recent mistreatment and trials, I should ask that my written statement be read for me by my advisor, Sir Hubert Chatham.”
This too was granted and Sir Hubert stepped forward. He began by thanking the judges for their indulgence, and then in a warm, refined voice read Hart’s account, which Hayden guessed had been largely composed by Sir Hubert, for he recognized little of the tone of Captain Hart in the words, and not merely because no eyes were damned throughout the entire document.
“‘Mr President, gentlemen, I most recently had the honour of commanding His Majesty’s Ship Themis, a thirty-two-gun frigate sent by the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty to harass the enemy upon her Atlantic coast and to assess the strength of the French fleet in as many of her harbours as we could look into. We had begun our cruise on the twenty-third day of September, leaving Plymouth in a south-east gale, and taking shelter in Torbay. Upon the cessation of foul weather we proceeded to the coast of France, where, in the entrance to Brest harbour, we had the good fortune to seize an enemy transport while in the process of assessing the fleet strength.
“‘As we proceeded south, on the fifth day of October, we made common purpose with Captain Bourne of the Tenacious, a gentleman with whose reputation I am certain Your Lordships are well familiar. My ship then participated in cutting out the French frigate Dragoon, anchored beneath the batteries of Belle Île. My first lieutenant was given command of the prize and ordered to sail said ship to Plymouth, by which circumstance he and a number of other men were not aboard the Themis at the time of the mutiny. Upon the sixth day of October, at about seven bells of the middle watch, I was wakened by the sound of my cabin door being stealthily opened. Three men, one bearing a lantern, and the other two under arms, entered my cabin and ordered me, upon pain of death, to rouse from my cot and heed their every order. Clad only in my night-shirt, I was allowed first to pull on my breeches, before I was bound and made to lie on the floor of my cabin under guard. At that time a general cry went up and the sound of small arms was heard from diverse places about the ship. Very shortly I could hear, from the gunroom directly below my cabin, a very lively skirmish had
been engaged, and the same from overhead on the quarterdeck. My spirits rose at this sound and I tried to reason with the two men guarding me, Dundas and Clark, saying that if they set me free I should see that no charges would be laid against them, but though they looked very concerned they told me only to hold my tongue or they should cut it out.
“‘I heard the last shots fired in the gunroom, and soon after firing ceased upon the deck as well, but it was some minutes before I knew the outcome of these battles. Much shouting and cursing could be heard from about the ship and after a time of silence, I know not how long, a man appeared at my door and ordered me brought from my cabin. I was led up onto the deck, where I found my officers and many of our people had been gathered in the waist, a number of them bleeding and much injured from the recent fight. At first, I was put among my officers, where I received much abuse from the men who had joined in the mutiny. I was cuffed and kicked and struck with the flat of many a cutlass. I was not alone in being so treated, as many a private score was settled at that time, and I am sorry to say that two men who had been loyal to me were killed before my eyes. Before the hour was out, another departed this life, done in by the wounds he had received.
“‘There ensued then a dispute among the mutinous elements of the crew as to what was to be done, some men favouring setting out for foreign parts and others wishing to sail into the harbour of Brest to turn the ship over to the French authorities. As this was argued, a small number of the crew led by William Stuckey took hold of me and seized me up to a grating. Although many even among the mutineers protested this act, the afore-mentioned Stuckey proceeded to inflict a vicious beating upon my person with a cat, saying as he began, “This is on account of Mr Aldrich.” This statement quelled the resistance to Stuckey, and even some of the men who protested my treatment were heard to cry, “Aye, on Mr Aldrich’s account.” I was afterward cut down from the grating and the doctor was allowed to come to my aid. The said William Stuckey and some others then seized upon acting First Lieutenant Herald Landry and would have flogged him as well, but at that time one of their leaders, Able Seaman Peter Aldrich, came up from below decks and ordered that there should be no more floggings and suggested that myself and the crew loyal to me should be put into boats and set adrift, which was done forthwith. As these boats were without sails and rig, we took to the oars and set out north-west hoping to find a British ship in the vicinity of Ushant, but chanced upon the French prize Dragoon, which was being conveyed back to England by my own first lieutenant.
“‘As my lords are no doubt aware, with only eighty able-bodied men, we then had the good fortune to overhaul the Themis and take her back from the mutineers, returning her to the possession of His Majesty’s Navy. This is, sirs, to the best of my knowledge and recollection, what occurred. I submit this account along with several lists: the first, of the men who actively joined in the mutiny; the second, a list of those men who came away with me in the boats; the third is less clear. A good number of men were killed during the mutiny and I have been at pains to separate the loyal men who died in the course of their duty and those who died as mutineers. They are clearly marked. As for those men killed but whose allegiance is unknown, I have placed their names on a separate tally and hope that their parts shall be brought to light in due course. All other members of the crew were away on the prizes or, as I have noted, under the care of the doctor in the sick-berth at the time of mutiny.’”
Sir Hubert made a small bow and returned to his desk.
Wickham touched Hayden’s arm. “He has included Aldrich among the mutineers,” he whispered, unable to hide his alarm.
“It shall be set straight, I’m sure,” Hayden replied, though unsettled himself.
Admiral Duncan waved for a silence, as a little breeze of whispering had followed the barrister’s reading.
“Sir Josiah,” he began, “I have been informed that the ship’s log has been lost. Is this possible?”
“I’m afraid it is, sir. I do not know the circumstances of it, Admiral, for it occurred while I was ashore under the care of a physician, but I’m confident that Mr Barthe, the ship’s master, has an explanation. I have, sir, submitted my own journal, which will certainly make up for the loss of the ship’s log.”
The admiral did not look happy with this answer, nor with the muttering among the Themis’ people, but then asked if any of the captains wished to put questions to Captain Hart.
“Captain Hart,” a clearly displeased captain named McLeod asked, “was such negligence common to the master?”
“I am sorry to say that it was, sir, as Mr Barthe’s own naval record will attest.”
Hayden felt his back straighten, and he looked over to see Griffiths lay a hand upon the arm of Barthe, who had begun to rise, face glowing crimson, fists clenched. Only Hawthorne and the doctor kept him in his seat, though his response did not go unnoticed by any present.
“Captain Hart,” asked Gardner, captain of the seventy-four-gun ship Goliath, “were you displeased by the conduct of any man during the course of these unfortunate events?”
“Of the officers who were aboard ship at the time of the mutiny, sir, I have nary a word of reproach. All of the ship’s people resisted the mutineers to the best of their abilities. I believe this is proven by the long list of men killed and hurt in the defence of the ship.” Hart shifted in his chair, glancing around the cabin guardedly. “Of some, who had the good fortune to quit the ship a few hours before the mutiny,” he growled, “I was less pleased.”
“What mean you, sir?” the Defiant’s captain, Bainsbridge, enquired.
Hart did not seem to notice the apprehensive look upon the face of his legal advisor.
“I was absent from the ship for ten weeks before we set out upon our cruise, sir, and was returned only a few days when the mutiny occurred, yet I am on trial for it. Lieutenant Charles Hayden had command of the Themis for many weeks during my absence and was only off her for a few hours when the mutiny occurred, yet he is held guiltless who is most to blame.” As he made this statement, Hart’s chin quivered with either anger or the frailty of age. The room fell utterly silent.
“What is it you are suggesting, Sir Josiah?” Bainsbridge asked softly.
Hart did not hesitate to answer, speaking out bitterly: “That the disaffection of the crew began when Lieutenant Hayden, in my absence, took command of the Themis—until then there was no sign of it. But during those weeks that I was called away, so material a change in the mood of the crew occurred that, upon my return, I could not comprehend it, which is why the mutiny found me so utterly unprepared.”
Muhlhauser and Wickham both looked at Hayden in alarm.
The spineless little tyrant! Hayden thought. He knew full well that he had discord aboard before Stephens put me on that cursed ship. Had not a man been murdered at the hands of one of his fellows?
“We have not convened to try men who were not aboard the ship at the time of the mutiny,” Gardner stated firmly, “no matter the good captain’s opinion of their service.”
There was some protest among the panel of captains, but Admiral Duncan raised a hand. “Captain Gardner is quite right. Let us proceed. Has anyone a question for Sir Josiah?”
Gardner leaned forward. “You have commended your officers for their zeal in defending the ship, but do I understand you witnessed none of this defence yourself, as you were held prisoner in your cabin?”
“That is true, sir, but I am confident the testimony of my officers will bear me out. Allow me to say, in my defence, that if the mutineers had not come at me by stealth I should have joined in the defence of my ship with all my energies.”
“Given your illustrious service, sir,” Gardner replied dryly, “who could doubt it?”
The meaning of the man’s words was not lost on anyone present and there was muffled laughter, which made Hart shift uncomfortably, his face flushing with anger. Hayden remained too enraged even to smile. Perhaps this was one of Philip Stephens’ votaries.
Bainsbridge waited for silence and then asked, “So you were taken utterly by surprise, Captain Hart? There was, previous to that night, no occurrence, nothing at all that would have given you cause to believe there was, aboard your ship, a mutinous element?”
“No, sir. Certainly, the crew had become froward and undisciplined in my absence, but even so, every one of my officers was taken wholly by surprise. If there had been any reason to believe mutiny possible I would have ordered more sentries to be placed around the ship, and tipped my officers to be on the lookout, but there was not.”
Bainsbridge nodded, apparently satisfied.
“If I may,” the judge-advocate interrupted. “I am looking over your lists, Captain Hart, and I make note that you have the name Aldrich in the tally of mutineers, yet there is also an Aldrich on the doctor’s sick-and-hurt list, and by your own account, the men in the sick-berth did not take part in the mutiny. Had you two men of the same name?”
“There was but one, and he was chief among the mutineers. He was also in the sick-berth at the time of the mutiny.”
Gardner, who Hayden was beginning to believe not pleased to be part of these proceedings, pounced on this. “If he was in the sick-berth, Captain Hart, how is it you are so confident of his part in the mutiny?”
“In my account, read by Sir Hubert, I made note that the mutineer William Stuckey said as he began to…beat me that he was doing it on ‘Aldrich’s account.’ After this, Aldrich himself appeared on deck and ordered the mutineers to leave off flogging the ship’s people, and they obeyed him immediately. Also, sir, the very same Aldrich was flogged but a few days before for mutinous language.”
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