The Devil's Own

by Christopher Nicole

  The Governor nodded. 'I must agree with that point, Mr Harley.'

  'As you wish, Your Lordship,' Harley said. 'You remained in Colonel Warner's employment for a month, Captain Hilton, and then you resigned your command. I will not enter into your reasons for wishing to leave Colonel Warner's employ, but is it not a fact that when you resigned your position there was a violent quarrel?'

  'There was,' Kit said. 'But ...'

  'In the course of which you were set upon by Colonel Warner's servants, beaten, and thrown off the plantation?'

  'That is what happened,' Kit agreed.

  'But of course you bore the Colonel no ill will for this.' 'I ..."

  'And soon afterwards you married Mrs Marguerite Templeton, Colonel Warner's daughter.' Mr Harley held up his hand. 'I have no wish, it would be improper, for me to inquire into the methods used by a man in his courting, or to inquire into the wiles and fascinations a man may exercise over members of the female sex. Yet I would like your opinion on whether or not Colonel Warner approved of this marriage?'

  'He did not approve of the marriage,' Kit said. 'But he became reconciled to it as time went by.'

  'Ah, indeed. The power which time possesses, Captain Hilton, of enabling us poor mortals to become reconciled to our lot is in many ways the only thing which makes life tolerable. Would you not agree?'

  'I would say that is a remarkably passive point of view.'

  'You do not agree. I thought you might not. Would you deny that, if Colonel Warner became reconciled to your new position in the bosom of his family, you never became reconciled to the many injuries you conceived he had done to you, and to your family?'

  'If you mean by that, sir,' Kit said, 'that I have never actually liked Colonel Warner, then I would have to say that you are right.'

  'I thank you, sir,' Harley said.

  Pratt sat back and looked at the ceiling. He seemed to have indigestion.

  'I'm afraid,' Kit said, 'that I did not prove a very successful witness.'

  Mr Pratt snapped his fingers, and the boy brought two more glasses of rum punch; the tavern was close by the court-house, and indeed was entirely filled with spectators from the trial; but the Advocate General had secured a corner table in some privacy.

  'You were transparently honest, Captain, which is what I anticipated you would be, as you are a transparently honest man. There are pitfalls in such honesty, and there are great advantages. Nor do I think you came off worst in your encounter with Harley. I have known him for many years, as you may imagine. He did not look particularly satisfied with the results he achieved. And in any event, I expected nothing less than an endeavour to discredit you. For how else may he possibly hope to gain the day for his client? You will note that he made no attempt to deny the truth of your allegations, only to impugn your motives for bringing them at all.'

  'And supposing he has failed to discredit me in the minds of the jury?' Kit asked. 'What then? Will he place Philip on the stand?'

  'I do not see how he can possibly do anything else. The facts of the case are indisputable. No one, least of all Colonel Warner has attempted to deny that Indian Warner and seven other caciques were killed in the cabin of that ship.'

  'And cannot Mr Harley see all this?'

  'Indeed he can,' Pratt agreed. 'And in any event he knows me as well as I know him. I see nothing for him but an appeal to mercy. And do not underestimate the power of that. But at the very least Colonel Warner will stand condemned, fined, perhaps imprisoned, and the infamy of the deed, and the quality of British justice, will be seen to be untarnished, and your name will be cleared before the world, and will indeed be honoured by men everywhere.'

  Kit smiled, somewhat wryly. 'I had not supposed it was my name needed clearing. Anyway, I have no wish to hound Colonel Warner to his grave. That he is condemned will be sufficient.'

  'An honourable sentiment,' Pratt agreed, and got up. 'I must go back to court. Will you attend this afternoon?'

  'How could I stay away?' Kit asked. 'I have but to finish my drink.'

  'Well, then, soon I fancy we shall see the end of this nefarious business, and then, sir, we shall show you the quality of Barbadian hospitality. My wife is longing to meet you. Until this afternoon.'

  He hurried across the room, and heads turned to watch him go, and then turned back to stare at Kit. He smiled at them, and sipped his drink. Let them take which side they chose. As Pratt had said, this afternoon would see an end to the matter.

  But he frowned as a man left the far end of the room and came towards him. He did not recognize the man's face, nor was it a face he would have chosen to remember; the fellow was slight, and his thinning hair was not concealed by a wig. He wore horn-rimmed spectacles, from which he peered at the room with a slight air of alarm, and his clothes were threadbare.

  'Captain Hilton?' he whispered.

  'I am he,' Kit agreed.

  'May I have a word, sir?'

  'By all means. A pot of punch?'

  'I would rather not, sir, if you'd not take offence. I find the wine of this country a shade too vehement for my brain.'

  'Now why should I take offence at that?’ Kit demanded. 'But you have the advantage of me, sir.'

  'My name is Ligon, Captain. Richard Ligon.' He paused.

  'The pleasure is mine, Mr Ligon. Have we met before?'

  'No, sir. I have not had that privilege before this minute. But we have mutual friends.' Ligon rested his elbows on the table. 'I am on a voyage of discovery, sir. The most fabulous adventure ever undertaken by man. At least, by a man such as I when compared with a man such as you, to be sure.'

  Kit sipped his drink; he wondered if Mr Ligon's discovery that rum was too strong for him had not been very recently made.

  'I am, sir, a writer. A mere scribbler, I do assure you. No Dryden I, much less a Donne. Hobbes is as the sun, scorching down upon some rutted pit beneath, and even Defoe must rank as the moon, shedding a fitful light upon those darknesses he would illuminate. But in my own way, sir, I do what I can.'

  'Indeed,' Kit observed. 'I must confess I have not heard of you.'

  'Nor is that to be wondered at, sir, as I have never yet been published. I am in the course of preparation, sir, a work of great value. In my youth, sir, what were my imaginings constantly seeking? Why, tales of the Indies, of the Americas, of Raleigh and Gilbert, of Tom Warner, and if I dare say it, of Anthony Hilton, and more recently, of Henry Morgan and Jean L'Olonnais, and even of yourself.'

  'You are a flatterer, sir.'

  'I seek the truth, sir. I would record the fact and the fancy of this beautiful sea. But while it is a great privilege to meet one of my central characters in person, sir, it is not for that purpose that I have inflicted my company upon you. No, sir, I was in court yesterday, and this morning, and I heard your spirited words in the witness box, and I gathered, even at my distance, some of the anguish which pursues you now, and which must so much have pursued you in the black-sanded forest of Dominica.'

  'You had best speak plain,' Kit suggested.

  'Then, sir, so encouraged, I shall. I have recently come from that island.'

  Kit frowned at him. 'You have been to Dominica? And retain the flesh on your bones?'

  'Indeed, sir, as you know the Caribs better than I, where would be the benefit to any warrior in eating one such as I? His eyes could only grow weak, and his muscles flabby, and his heart and will to victory, why, they would dwindle right away. No, sir, Captain. I was in no danger in that dismal place. I was permitted to penetrate even the dread valley, and speak with the Empress herself.'

  Kit put down his glass. 'The Empress? You mean the Princess?'

  'What is in a title, sir? She spoke of you.'

  'Aye,' Kit said. 'And you hastened to Barbados to bring me that dread message, no doubt.'

  'On the contrary, sir. She exalts and admires you, and looks back upon her meeting with you as one of the events of her life. Even if it cost her the life of her son.'

  '
Could I but believe that ...'

  'Then do so, sir, I beg of you. As I was able to relay to her the news of your enmity for Colonel Warner, to inform her of this trial and all that would devolve from it, so did she bid me seek you out, and assure you of her love, and more, her admiration, for your determination to avenge Indian Warner's death.'

  'Then, Mr Ligon,' Kit said, 'I shall shake your hand, and invite you to accompany me back to the courtroom, that we may oversee the end of this affair.'

  'The pleasure will be all mine, sir. I have but one request to make of you. That I may be permitted to say in my book that I have sat at table with Captain Christopher Hilton.'

  Kit laughed, and slapped him on the shoulder. "Why, Mr Ligon, will you not in any event? Let us go to court.'

  'Well, Mr Harley?' inquired the Governor.

  Harley tucked his thumbs into his armpits. 'I have no witnesses, Your Lordship.'

  The Governor frowned at him. 'No witnesses? What? What? Does your client then change his plea to guilty?' He bent his glare on Philip Warner to suggest that in this event the sentence would be a severe one.

  'By no means, sir. But this case is an unusual one. More, it could be described as unique. The facts are not in dispute here, merely the interpretation to be placed upon the facts. I waive the right to call any witnesses, on the clear understanding that I thereby obtain the right to address the gentlemen of the jury last.'

  'Well,' said the Governor, and pulled his nose. 'Well. What say you to that, Mr Pratt?'

  Pratt cast a somewhat angry glance at his colleague. 'If that is how my learned friend chooses to discharge his obligation, sir, why should I object.'

  'Ha. Ha. Well then, Mr Pratt, as we have the entire afternoon in front of us, I suggest you make your address to the jury now.' He turned his frown on the Attorney General. 'You have your speech prepared?'

  'Oh, indeed, Your Lordship,' Pratt agreed. Yet it was obvious even to Kit, seated at the back of the room with Ligon beside him, that the prosecutor was thrown off his stride. He kept shooting bitter glances at Mr Harley. 'However, my address can be nothing more than a restatement of the case I have just presented. It appears that Mr Harley chooses to deny nothing about this case. He mentions that a different interpretation may be placed upon it. Well, gentlemen, that is a reasonable enough point of view in any crime. Were I to charge the bench at this moment and thrust my sword through the breast of His Lordship the Governor seated there, I would wager you my life to a penny that he and I would place different interpretations upon my reasons and indeed upon the deed itself.' He paused to enjoy the laughter, and give an apologetic smile to the Governor.

  'But yet, gentlemen,' he said, when the noise had subsided, 'would I still be guilty of murder. The only possible justification for my deed could be that His Excellency and myself were already in armed conflict, that we were, in fact, at war. My learned friend may care to suggest that point. But I would make a point now that he cannot, he dare not dispute. It is that there was no state of war between the Caribs and the Antiguans. There had been. This I grant you. As the French claim dominion over Dominica, so they installed Mr Thomas Warner with the trappings of governorship, and recognized him as their representative there. Thus, upon the outbreak of the last war, when Monsieur DuCasse was loosed upon the Leewards, and upon Jamaica, he was entitled to call upon the French subjects everywhere to follow him into battle. Thus he called upon the savages of Dominica. Now, gentlemen, this is a course of action we may well deplore, yet it was certainly justified by the fact that our country was in a state of war with France. But almost immediately following that infamous raid peace was signed. We have Sir William Stapleton's own testimony, and I quote ...' Mr Pratt ruffled his papers, 'that, "as peace had lately been signed with the French, we decided to do what we could about the Caribs."'

  Mr Pratt raised his head sorrowfully. 'His Excellency, alas, was in error, as I have indicated. If peace was signed with Louis, then no less was peace signed with all of Louis's subjects, whatever the colour of their skins. Thus peace was signed with Tom Warner and his Caribs just as much as with Monsieur DuCasse and his buccaneers. Yet is Sir William exonerated by virtue of his own humanity. He wishes to see what he can do about the Caribs, but the moment the proposal is put to him, as it was put to him, by Captain Hilton, that it might be possible to sign a separate and lasting treaty of peace with the savages, he gives that idea his support. More, he called upon all the gentlemen present, including the Deputy Governor of Antigua, who was to command the expedition, to give the idea their support. And this was agreed. However falsely, it was agreed. Now gentlemen, therefore, put aside these specious arguments. There was no war between the

  Caribs and the people of Antigua. There had been war. No doubt there will be a war in the future; in the circumstances I do not see how this can be avoided. But when that expedition sailed, and when it landed in Dominica, there was no war. And more, the expedition was aware of this and instructed to proceed accordingly. Its purpose was to meet the Indian caciques around a table, and discuss a mutual treaty and restoration of the captives. That was the purpose of the expedition. But Colonel Warner's purpose was far different. He meant to put an end to the Caribs' capacity for making war, for at least a generation. And he also meant to put an end to this family feud which has distorted the Caribbean scene for so very long. Do not be misled by this story of resisted arrest. Colonel Warner has lived in the Leewards all his life. He has known the Caribs all his life. He of all people can have had not the slightest doubt what would be the reaction of a Carib to being arrested, especially following a promise of safe conduct.

  'His problem was, how to get the Indians into his power. But for this he possessed a willing tool. My learned friend has attempted to suggest that there was bad blood between Colonel Warner and Captain Hilton. No doubt the two men had quarrelled in the past. Have any of you never quarrelled with a man later to become your friend? Captain Hilton has even admitted that perhaps he has never liked his father-in-law. Can any of you gentlemen honestly admit to liking your wife's father? That is not a part of human nature. And Captain Hilton has here been as honest as he has been everywhere else. If it were possible to look around this courtroom and say, with my hand on my heart, there is an honest man, I would point to Captain Hilton. And no matter what the relationship between Captain Hilton and Colonel Warner, no one can deny that Captain Hilton trusted his father-in-law. Why should he not? He had been present in Antigua when the plan of campaign, the determination to invite Tom Warner and his caciques to a conference, to give them safe conduct while the conference continued, was put forward and accepted, by Sir William Stapleton, and by Colonel Warner. This assurance was later repeated by Colonel Warner to Captain Hilton. So Captain Hilton says. There are no witnesses to the event. But are witnesses necessary, when the principle was already agreed? Nor, may I say, has there been any denial that this second assurance was given. Philip Warner has elected not to take the stand. That is his prerogative. But this cannot alter the facts: that there was an agreement between the Governor of the Leeward Islands and his Deputy in Antigua and the officers of the expedition; that safe conduct should be given to the Caribs; that Christopher Hilton, at great personal risk, visited the Carib village with this offer, and had it accepted by Tom Warner; that the eight Indians accompanied Captain Hilton back to the ship where Philip Warner waited; and that the moment they were safely secured in the great cabin, they were done to death, on the orders of Philip Warner. Gentlemen of the jury, no one has denied any of these facts. No one can deny any of these facts, because this is what happened. Therefore no argument put forward by my learned friend can alter the facts, that Philip Warner stands before you guilty of a most foul and unnatural murder, which resounds to the discredit of Englishmen everywhere, but of Englishmen in the West Indies more than any other. He deserves to be punished, and it is our duty, and our necessity, to see that he is punished. I call for a verdict of guilty against this man who has so betrayed his pos
ition, his trust, and his family.'

  Mr Pratt sat down, and mopped his brow.

  'It is difficult to see even Colonel Warner surviving that onslaught,' Ligon whispered.

  Kit did not reply. He watched the gallery, where Marguerite stared down into the court with burning eyes.

  And from Marguerite he looked at the planters in the jury. They whispered amongst themselves, and even smiled.

  'Mr Harley?' invited the Governor.

  Harley stood up, his thumbs tucked into his armpits. 'My friends,' he said. 'Gentlemen of the jury. My learned associate has taken me to task, implicitly, at the least, for not putting my client into the witness box; for not, apparently, offering a case. Gentlemen, I can only repeat what I said at the beginning of this hearing, that there is no case for my client to answer. Now, gentlemen, we in Barbados are a fortunate people. We lie outside the mainstream of the Caribee Islands, and more important, we lie to windward of them. Even a sailing ship, with a clean bottom and fully manned, must prepare herself for a hard week's work to make the Careenage from St Vincent or St Lucia, much less from Dominica. Thus we have never seen a pirate bring his guns to bear, and indeed, we have never been visited by a Spanish warship. The only contest we have witnessed in these waters was when Sir George Ayscue brought his Commonwealth fleet to overawe us, and we were his first landfall.

  'So then, gentlemen, it has proved doubly impossible for any Indians, depending only upon their own muscles for propulsion, to force themselves into the broad bosom of the Atlantic, to contest with the wind for so long and so unequal a struggle, which must necessarily take them out of sight of the islands they know so well, and leave them with scant prospect of getting back. I repeat, gentlemen, we are the most fortunate of people. We have never seen a Carib on the warpath.