by Dudley Pope
Captain Totty asked: ‘How came you to take particular notice of Leech?’—‘I can’t say: I looked in with a view to see who was in there, and I saw Jackson, Foster, Forester and Thomas Leech.’
Steward John Jones also gave the court a detailed description of the events on ‘the night the business took place’, and was asked:
‘Do you know anything of Mason?’
‘I don’t recollect seeing him but once and then he looked very ill, I supposed him to be so, or uneasy in his mind, and he said “John, I am very ill indeed”.’
The minutes of the trial then recorded: ‘Prosecution on the part of the Crown here closed and the court cleared for a few minutes: when opened some dissatisfactory remarks were made by Thos. Leech not at all relevant to his unhappy case; they are therefore not here inserted.’
Mason then made his defence, saying he was in the foretop when the men ‘cheered and said the ship was their own’, and that he was afraid to come down. When he at last came down he was told by one of the ringleaders to do his duty as usual or he ‘should go overboard’.
Leech then asked that Mr Southcott be called again. This was done, and Leech asked: ‘What time was I in your cabin on the night of the 21st September?’—‘Between 10 and 11, soon after the mutiny took place, and at different times during the night.’
It was a curious question to ask, and Leech said nothing more. The court was then cleared while the five captains considered their verdict. Their findings can have caused Leech no surprise: he was guilty on all the charges, and was to be hanged. As far as Mason was concerned, in their opinion, ‘there doth not appear there is any particular blame imputable to William Mason’, and he was acquitted.
The last official reference to that enigmatic man Leech was in Admiral Harvey’s letter to the Admiralty on May 13, reporting the trial and verdicts: ‘I therefore immediately issued a warrant for the execution of the said Thomas Leech, and he was executed pursuant thereto the 3rd on board His Majesty’s ship Alfred.’
The Alfred then sailed from Fort Royal, taking Southcott, Casey and all but the four Marines back to England. Admiral Harvey told the Admiralty that ‘Conceiving that more of the mutineers may be apprehended in this country, I have detained the Sergeant, Corporal and the two private Marines on board the Prince of Wales [his flagship] in order to appear as evidences, should that desirable event happen…’
The gun signalling Leech’s execution was fired on board the Alfred at Fort Royal on Wednesday, May 3, 1798, and on the following Saturday, four more men from the Hermione faced a court martial nine hundred miles away at Cape Nicolas Mole.
After leaving La Guaira, John Brown, the Scottish-born maintopman, had eventually signed on as a member of the crew of a British merchantman which was later boarded by a British privateer, the Benson. As soon as the privateer’s captain discovered Brown had served in the Hermione he took him into Kingston, Jamaica, no doubt having his eye on the rewards being offered for such men.
There Brown was taken before one of the town’s justices of the peace, Mr William Savage, and far from denying that he had ever served in the Hermione he made a voluntary confession. This, duly signed and witnessed, was then sent to Sir Hyde Parker and, despite the information gained from the court martial of Montell, Elliott and the other two mutineers six weeks earlier, proved to be the most detailed description of the mutiny the Admiral had read, since he had not yet received a copy of the minutes of the Leech court martial from Admiral Harvey or a report from the loyal officers.
The confession could not have reached Sir Hyde at a better moment, since he had already had three more former Hermiones under arrest for some time. They were William Benives, William Herd and John Hill, who had arrived in Port Morant Bay, Tamaica, in a cartel ship which they claimed they had seized. It has been impossible to prove whether or not their claim was true. Certainly it made no difference to Sir Hyde’s attitude: he was determined to court martial them, but until Brown’s confession arrived he had been unable to do so because he did not have a witness for the prosecution. The reason was that when John Mason (the prosecution witness at the Montell trial) was questioned about the three new prisoners he said he knew nothing at all about their activities, except that they had been on board at the time. Nor could he give any further information about the latest prisoner, John Brown.
On reading Brown’s confession Sir Hyde realized that here was a man who knew a great deal: he was able to confirm in detail much of the evidence already given at the first trial and, what was more interesting, Brown mentioned John Mason (the witness whose evidence had already hanged the four men), saying that he understood Mason was one of several men ‘who declared his resolution to take the ship but not to kill the officers’. The Admiral realized that the only way he could bring Benives, Herd and Hill to trial was to let Brown turn King’s Evidence, and since Mason knew nothing of Brown’s activities, clearly Brown was not a ringleader and would also be a more reliable prosecution witness in future trials.
Captain Bowen presided over the court martial on board the Carnatic, and whereas in the previous trials the prosecution witness, Mason, had not been among the accused, this time Brown was charged with the other three men, although it was clearly understood he would be allowed to turn King’s Evidence.
When the trial began on May 5th the Deputy Judge-Advocate read out Brown’s confession and the six captains forming the court found it a fascinating document, since it described David Forester’s climb up the mainstay and Brown’s visit to the fo’c’sle, followed by a complete account of the sentry McNeil rushing up to the quarterdeck to warn Lt Foreshaw; the orders the Lieutenant gave and the reactions of Turner and the man at the wheel. He named several of the murderers and added that Midshipman Wiltshire had told him he ‘knew of the mutiny two or three days before it broke out, and he went up in the foretop to hide when it broke out’. Brown finished his confession with a list of the twenty-five men he considered were ‘principal mutineers’.
After the Hermone’s former Master’s Mate, John Forbes, was called in to give evidence of Brown’s character, the court announced that it had taken into consideration Brown’s voluntary confession; that he had not changed his name (the other three had adopted aliases), nor ‘entered into the service of either the French or Spanish’; and the good character given him by Forbes. Because of these factors ‘and the more clearly to bring to light the atrocious deeds committed,’ the court ‘unanimously thought proper to admit the said John Brown as King’s Evidence’.
With that formality over the real trial began, and John Brown himself was called. After identifying the three accused men he was asked if any of them took an active part in the mutiny.
‘No, I don’t know that William Benives or John Hill took an active part; but I know that William Herd did.’
‘Relate what you know about William Herd.’—‘I know that he broke into the Captain’s cabin.’
Had he seen Benives or Hill on deck after the mutiny?—‘I saw Benives walking on the forecastle, with the lad who was leading him. being blind at the time.’
The court then asked him a series of questions for which he had obviously been prepared and were no doubt intended to forestall any awkward questions from the Admiralty about the confession written by Montell just before he was hanged: particularly that the Frenchman D’Orlanie and Elliott—who had already been executed—were innocent.
‘Did you ever hear who were the people that broke into the cabin and murdered the captain?’—‘I know that Joe Montell was one of them.’
‘Do you know of anyone else?’—‘John Elliott.’
‘Do you know if Peter Delaney, or Pierre D’Orlanie, was one of them?’—‘I can’t recollect.’
‘What became of the Boatswain?’—‘He was thrown overboard.’
‘Where was the Surgeon murdered?’—‘They took him out of the gunroom and threw him overboard,’ said Brown, adding that Sansum had been alive at the time and that ‘I did not hear th
at any were killed before they were thrown overboard’.
With Brown’s evidence for the prosecution ended, William Herd questioned him. ‘Did you ever see me going into the Captain’s cabin?’—‘No, I did not.’
‘Did you see me with a cutlass or any other weapon in my hand?’—‘No, I never did.’
The President then asked: ‘How came you to know that Herd was one of the men that broke into the Captain’s cabin?’—‘I heard people say so on the quarterdeck next day.’
Herd, in his defence, said he was below at the time of the mutiny and the next thing he heard was that the Third Lieutenant (Foreshaw) had been thrown overboard. Then ‘I went upon the forecastle and sat down, and stayed there until daylight, and then I was ordered up to the foretopmast head to set the royal… I received orders to go to the wheel and stayed my two hours… And I declare most solemnly that I had no hand in murdering or throwing overboard the officers; nor did I see any other person do so.’
Benives and Hill, in their defence statements, described how after eventually receiving a pass from the Spanish authorities to go to Curaçao, ‘We went on board a cartel at Curaçao bound for Guadeloupe, ask the prisoners with ourselves, took her from the Spaniard and carried her into Port Morant Bay, Jamaica’.
The court did not question them on this point yet it was a vital one in deciding whether the men were genuinely trying to get back to British territory: Port Morant Bay was more than one thousand miles from Guadeloupe. The fact—if it was a fact—that they had seized the cartel and carried her into a British port a thousand miles from her destination should have been strong evidence in their favour. The truth of the matter must have been known to Sir Hyde Parker, even if not to the court.
Certainly it had no effect on the verdict: although Brown said in his evidence that Benives was blind at the time of the mutiny, all three were found guilty and sentenced to be hanged and their bodies ‘to be hung in chains upon gibbets…’
Herd, an Irishman, was certainly guilty of mutiny: he received a watch in the share-out of the valuables, and he consulted with the other leaders in the cabin. Benives was innocent of mutiny—but, like Hill, he had later been ordered by the Spanish authorities to work on board the Hermione. He claimed that at first they refused and stayed on shore for two days, ‘Till hunger obliged us to board’. From what is known of conditions at Puerto Cabello and La Guaira at that time, the story rings true. The third man, Hill, received silver at the share-out, which indicates he was guilty.
Five days after their shipmate Thomas Leech was executed on board the Alfred at Fort Royal, the yellow flag was hoisted on board the Carnatic at Cape Nicolas Mole, and the three men were hanged.
23
BUREAUCRATS AT BAY
* * *
IN THE FIRST six months that the Hermione had been in Spanish hands, renamed the Santa Cecilia and serving under the red and gold flag of Carlos IV, she had been to sea only once, for the short voyage from La Guaira to Puerto Cabello, where she was to be fitted out. The reason for her inactivity was not hard to find: she was firmly secured to the piers at Puerto Cabello by many fathoms of red tape.
Although double-entry book-keeping had recently been introduced into the Spanish dominions, the new system did not help Intendant Leone because the Royal Treasury at Caracas was empty. But since Leone was stubborn, and as determined to stand on what he considered his rights as he was to balance his books, the frigate stayed in harbour, when she might well have been responsible for some entries in the credit column had she gone to sea.
After the ship had been taken to Puerto Cabello the Master Shipwright there surveyed her on the orders of the Governor of the port, Don Marmion. He found that she needed repairs to her bow and stern below the waterline, which meant the copper sheathing had to be stripped off, and she would have to be careened. Apart from that there were the routine repairs to be made to the sails and the rigging.
The work went on at a leisurely pace until November 18, when the Captain-General called a junta to consider some alarming news. The first item on the agenda for their consideration was ‘the repeated insults of the enemy corsairs [i.e. privateers], which have had the audacity to enter the port of Barcelona for the third time, landing troops and taking possession of the battery built there, which was still without guns as it was not ready for garrisoning. The enemy corsairs threatened to destroy it unless they received 50,000 pesos.’
The junta was also told that on the same day, November 14, two Spanish privateers, the San Francisco and the San Vicente, which were cruising off Cape Codera on the lookout for enemy warships, had sighted a British frigate, a sloop and two schooners. They had promptly ‘retired to port to save themselves’, and reported at once to the Captain-General.
The arrival of the British was serious, as every member of the junta knew only too well, and the minutes of their discussion refer to ‘the serious damage which will be caused by the pirates [sic] if they are allowed to remain, since they will inevitably capture any merchant ships coming from Spain and other parts’, and would also intercept ‘at a critical time for Christmas’ the ships carrying the cocoa harvest, which was just beginning to be collected.
The junta decided to fit out the Santa Cecilia at once ‘to go out and harass and capture the said enemy ships’. The main problem was finding enough seamen, so they decided that only one of the two Spanish privatees would sail to keep a watch for the British ships while the other went to Puerto Cabello in case her crew was needed for the Santa Cecilia. The captain of the frigate was to be Don Andreas Caperuchiqui, the Acting Commander of the Privateering Branch.
The junta’s last decision was soon to cause a great deal of trouble: ‘Finally it was resolved that the expenses that may arise for the said frigate should be paid for by the Privateering Branch, because at the appropriate times she may serve to chase enemy ships and also be employed with zeal to chase smugglers.’
The Captain-General and his secretary then busied themselves drawing up the necessary orders. The first was to the Governor of Puerto Cabello, putting him in charge of fitting out the Santa Cecilia; the second was to Intendant Leone, enclosing a certified copy of the junta’s minutes and telling him the Santa Cecilia’s captain was to be the Acting Commander of the Privateering Branch, ‘whose funds must pay the expenses, and for which you must give the appropriate orders’. Leone replied the same day that ‘I have given the necessary instructions for this to take place’, and no doubt noted to himself that the Captain-General was playing into his hands.
The point was that the junta had intended that the Santa Cecilia should be both a warship and a privateer, as the occasion demanded. The Captain-General later explained to the Prince of Peace, ‘It was decided to charge the expenses to the Privateering Branch because the Royal Treasury did not have the means and because the Privateering Branch had to help provide the crew by taking men from the smaller privateers’.
As a warship defending the province, the Santa Cecilia came under the control of the Captain-General, her expenses being paid out of the Royal Treasury. But as a privateer she was controlled by the Intendant and paid for by the Privateering Fund, which he administered. Since the Royal Treasury was empty the Privateering Fund had to pay anyway; but who controlled the ship when she acted as a warship but was paid for as a privateer?
The Intendant had no doubts: as soon as the Captain-General told him that Caperuchiqui was to command and the Privateering Branch to pay, he took control himself, writing the same day to his Treasury officials at Puerto Cabello. He told them the frigate was to be ready in ‘not more than six to eight days’, (this order resulted in the Hermiones being rounded up in the streets of La Guaira and shipped to Puerto Cabello to work on board the frigate), and the Governor would supply provisions for only one month, ‘with the other things which Don Caperuchiqui might demand’. They were to understand that ‘Caperuchiqui has the authority to appoint officers and seamen to the frigate to his own satisfaction, either from the privateers o
r merchant ships, and also from among local seafarers’. More men would be sent round from La Guaira.
The reply from the Treasury officials at Puerto Cabello was prompt: although the Master Shipwright reported that he had not finished repairing the Santa Cecilia, he had been told to complete the job ‘with the greatest speed’, but it was doubtful if she would be ready until the end of the month. ‘At the same time we have put up posters offering all seamen who join the frigate the same wages that privateersmen receive, and a share of the prize-money resulting from captures.’
The Intendant also wrote to Caperuchiqui, telling him of the enemy’s arrival off Cape Codera, and that he was to take command of the frigate and have her ready in six to eight days, ‘and this done you are to sail for that position, taking with you the schooner Concha… and any other of the privateers that are ready in time, all with the purpose of capturing or driving off the enemy frigate and other vessels’. Caperuchiqui replied that he had immediately given the necessary instructions ‘so that there shall be no delays through any fault of mine’.
So far the first round had gone to Leone. The Captain-General had assumed Leone’s orders were routine. He did not know the Intendant had presented him with a fait accompli until Caperuchiqui sent the Governor of Puerto Cabello, Don Marmion, a brusque note saying that since the Intendant had given him command of the Santa Cecilia, ‘this is to let you know that from now on you will communicate with me on all matters concerning the frigate’.
Governor Marmion received this on December 7, by which time the ship was still not ready for sea. But as the Captain-General personally had put him in complete charge of commissioning the Santa Cecilia he was so angry that he at once sent a copy of Caperuchiqui’s letter to the Captain-General, who in describing the episode later wrote that ‘from the moment Marmion saw the note [from Caperuchiqui] he threw up his hands and said he would not have anything to do with it’.