Not One Shred of Decency

by Bob Brown

  His father, if he were here, what advice would he give? But he knew what his father would advise, and he might not want to listen to it anyway. His mother, this would eventually fall on her ears. He could still feel the wrath she delivered on him for his misdeeds as a child. How would she handle this? He was grown, all on his own, why did he feel embarrassed for needing, or wanting, her approval, or disapproval? However, in some way it helped him decide what he must do. At length, all arguments led to one conclusion.

  He swung out of his hammock, retrieved his clothes from his ditty bag and dressed. He was tired, miserable, and weak in the knees; How did he get sucked into this predicament? But now he must act. Everyone but those on duty would still be asleep. He would have to go topside to get to Captain Mackenzie’s cabin and Small would surely see him. He would try to get to First Lieutenant Ganse without being noticed. He carefully negotiated the sleeping bodies again. He went aft to the steerage door and looked in. The officers were asleep and there was no activity in the darkness, so he entered.

  Suddenly Spencer raised his head. “What the devil are you doing cruising around here at this hour?

  Wales pointed at the purser’s storeroom door and pretended to be looking for some supplies. Spencer’s head lowered into the shadows but Wales knew he was watching him closely. He felt heat on the back of his neck. Spencer would know that he was up to something. He unlocked the supply locker, grabbed a notebook, locked the locker and left. He held the notebook so Spencer could see it as he walked out. Spencer’s face was hidden in the shadows. Would this flimsy ruse convince Spencer that he really needed something? Standing by his hammock he moaned silently, his plan had already mired up in pitch and was going nowhere. He decided it would be safer to wait until he could talk to Captain Mackenzie or Ganse privately. He hoped to live that long.

  **********

  Ganse knocked on Mackenzie’s cabin door and opened it without waiting for permission. Mackenzie was not there, so he looked around the spar deck.

  Mackenzie saw him first and approached him. “You look disturbed Ganse, is something wrong?”

  “I must talk to you at once, Captain.”

  “All right, go on.”

  “In your cabin, sir.”

  “Sounds ominous, but come along.”

  Mackenzie’s cabin was stuffy so he started to open some ports. Ganse said, “Don’t do that Captain. This is confidential  no one must hear us.”

  “I’ve never seen you so upset, Ganse. Tell me what this is all about.”

  “A serious situation is at hand.”

  “Go on.”

  “Mutiny sir. Young Spencer is planning a mutiny.”

  “Spencer! Ha, you’re upset over nothing, Ganse. He’s a persistent barnacle in my boot, but leader of men? Ridiculous! Mutiny? Mutiny of one maybe. Very amusing.”

  “Don’t shrug this off, captain. I’ll explain how I know.”

  “Bully, I love intrigue. I’m sure this’ll be entertaining.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Ganse began explaining the mutiny plans to Captain Mackenzie. “This morning, the Purser’s Steward, Wales, requested that I go below and talk to the Purser, Horace Heiskell. He said it was urgent. Wales had a long conversation with Spencer last night and repeated it to Heiskell this morning.”

  “Heiskell talked to Spencer?”

  “No sir, Wales talked to Spencer and then he, Wales, told Heiskell all that was said.”

  “Wales is that big boy we flogged three days ago, the one that works for Heiskell?”

  “Yes, he is the one. Wales told Heiskell that Spencer was planning a mutiny.”

  “Why in hell didn’t Wales come straight to me?”

  “Apparently he was being watched and his life had been threatened if he told anyone.”

  “Ganse, this is just a bunch of boys playing games.”

  “Not so, Captain.”

  With a trace of amusement, Mackenzie said, “So tell me about Mr. Spencer’s sinister plans.”

  “According to Wales, Spencer has leagued with twenty other men to murder all the officers . . .”

  “Murder! Twenty men! Just boys! Murder the officers? We’ll round them up. I’ll have them flogged so severely they’ll never try anything again.”

  “Yes sir, murder. And then he intends to convert the Somers to a pirate ship.”

  “The Somers, a pirate ship? Who are these boys?”

  “Wales didn’t know their names, but he said Spencer had a list rolled up in his neckerchief. Wales thinks Small is involved also.”

  “Hmmm, and you believe all this, Ganse?”

  “I do indeed, sir.”

  “At this moment only you, I, Heiskell, and Wales know about this?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Mackenzie, who had expected this to be entertaining, was now frowning. After a few moments he relaxed his frown and said, “Frankly, I doubt if any of this is any more than a few boys blustering about. But just in case, I’ll assemble the officers and confront Spencer. You and I, we’ll pay close attention to his reaction. I don’t believe a single word that comes from his mouth.” Mackenzie pursed his lips and paused, ”Tell Acting Master Matthew Perry everything you know about this. I trust him to be an observant witness, also. Don’t tell anyone else.”

  “Should we be prepared to take Spencer into custody?”

  “Absolutely. It’s better to be over-prepared than under-prepared. Have the marine, Garty isn’t it, issue pistols to the three of us. If Garty wants to know why you need them, simply tell him ‘Captain’s orders’ and nothing else. Let me know when these things are done.”

  “I will captain. Your decisions sound wise. Especially so, since Spencer is the Secretary of War’s son. There could be unpleasant repercussions if this isn’t handled in the proper fashion.”

  “I intend to handle this properly, Secretary of War’s son or not. If young Spencer is into mischief, we’ll deal with it and the Secretary of War isn’t here. He can’t interfere with our decisions.”

  “I’ll see Garty about the pistols and tell Perry about this now.” Ganse started toward the ladder.

  Mackenzie called out, “Ganse, also follow Spencer’s movements as much as possible between now and when I assemble the officers.”

  Ganse looked back, “Yes sir.” He climbed the ladder and disappeared through the cabin door to the spar deck.

  Mackenzie pinched his chin and leaned back in his chair. He reviewed what Ganse had just told him and after a minute, he crossed his arms and blended a smile into a smirk. “Hump! This may be entertaining after all.”

  **********

  Ganse managed, with some difficulty, to maneuver Perry to a private place where they could talk without being obvious to everyone. After repeating the mutiny plans to Perry, he instructed him to obtain three pistols from Garty and not tell him why he wanted them.

  Ganse was anxious to locate Spencer and see if he could detect anything suspicious. Or was he really anxious? Somehow, he was just as anxious to pretend that none of this had happened and wished he had never heard of any mutiny plans.

  He emerged from the berth deck onto the spar deck. He did not pause as he sometimes did to take a deep breath and enjoy the fresh sea air. As many times as he had experienced it, he had never become accustomed to the contrast of leaving the pit of body odors and entering God’s world. But this time he felt a sense of excitement, as though all eyes were focused on him. Trying not to appear unnatural, he slowly walked aft. He turned around. No one was looking at him. Nothing seemed to be amiss.

  A few boys were working, but many were sitting around the deck talking. With so many hands on board it was impossible to find enough work to keep everyone occupied. Some of the boys spliced rope, some holystoned the deck, some polished already shiny brass, and some of the younger ones were on their knees playing jackstones. Cromwell and Small stood at the bow talking, but he did not see Spencer anywhere.

  Ganse tried to decide if he was overly apprehensive
about a possible mutiny. Could Spencer and others really take the Somers? Would as many as twenty men and boys join them in such a murderous scheme? Would they, or could they, really murder all the officers? Could he die bravely if overwhelmed by an inflamed crew? Was Mackenzie right about this just being a few boys blustering about? He had no quick answer for any of these questions. Records proved that ships had been taken with just a few men, and the men and boys on board the Somers were obviously homesick and unhappy. Mackenzie and Cromwell had certainly dealt harshly with many of them.

  He decided to walk around the spar deck and occasionally glance up into the rigging. He had seen Spencer with others on the yards before. The rigging and sails provided some escape for privacy and boys often climbed the Jacob’s ladders to sit on the yards. He intentionally did not go close to Cromwell and Small, talking on the bow. He was uncomfortable in all his contacts with Cromwell. Without saying anything, Cromwell often looked directly in his eyes and Ganse felt it was a dare to see which one would break eye contact first  and he always looked away first, hating himself for it. No doubt Cromwell grinned every time he won the childish confrontation. He must find a way to stop it. Furthermore, Cromwell was so tall, he had to look up to him. The vision of his sneering face corrupting the beautiful sky and clouds was burned into his mind. Just once, he would like to look down on Cromwell. He loathed the feeling that even when Cromwell obeyed his orders, he felt his authority had been exposed as weak.

  “When will we get to Saint Thomas, Mr. Ganse?”

  Ganse recognized McKinley’s voice. In groups of people, one person will always make conversation with their superiors. Perhaps they like to impress their superiors and also impress their peers with their boldness. McKinley was one of those people. McKinley and two others were sitting on an inverted small boat. Normally Ganse patiently responded to these interruptions because most of the boys seemed to like him and he wanted to keep it that way. But today he was not in the mood for light conversation. “I don’t know, depends on the wind.” He walked on, knowing that McKinley always followed with more questions or comments if given the chance.

  When abreast of the main mast, Ganse glanced up into the sails. Not far above him, Spencer and someone else, Green, he thought, were sitting on a yard. Spencer glared down at him with the most hellish expression. Ganse expected flames to spew from Spencer’s nostrils at any instant.

  Ganse froze, appalled at Spencer’s angry expression, not so much for the anger he displayed, for Spencer was prone to displays of anger, but because of its implications. It meant Spencer must know that his mutiny plans have been exposed. Why else would he be so angry? He decided to walk on as though he had not noticed Spencer’s behavior, but when he lowered his eyes, Cromwell and Small were both looking at him with unpleasant half-smiles that he could not fathom. They must be involved also. He would tell the Captain about this encounter at once. Surely this would convince Mackenzie that the mutiny plans should be taken seriously.

  CHAPTER 14

  Perry waited on the stern for Ganse. He said, “I didn’t wish to carry the pistols openly yet. I’ve hidden them in my locker until Captain Mackenzie calls for them.”

  “Good. I’ll tell the captain that you have them.” Ganse noticed that Cromwell and Small were watching them and he did not want to do anything that would arouse their suspicions, but his nerves were too taut to put off talking to Mackenzie. He knocked on the Captain’s door.

  A muffled voice beckoned him to enter. Mackenzie was sitting at his desk writing in a log book. He looked up calmly, just as Ganse had seen him do on many occasions. Doesn’t he realize his life is in danger?

  Ganse said, “I’ve just observed Spencer. He looked at me with extreme anger.”

  “Why? You didn’t tell him what we know, did you?”

  “No sir, nothing was said. He just looked extremely angry. I’ve never seen such an angry face. And Cromwell and Small appeared upset, too.”

  “Have you talked to them?”

  “No sir.”

  “Don’t be influenced too much by people’s looks, Ganse.”

  “If you had seen . . .”

  “Do you have the pistols?”

  “Perry has them hidden in his locker.”

  “I’ve decided how to handle this, but first tell Perry to join us.”

  Ganse opened the cabin door and motioned to Perry that Captain Mackenzie wanted his presence. Ganse respected Perry as an intelligent, calm and reasonable man. He found some comfort in his being included in this affair.

  Mackenzie asked Perry how he could get one of the pistols without the crew seeing them. Perry said he would conceal it under his shirt and bring it to his cabin.

  Mackenzie said this would be acceptable and said, “Do you agree with Ganse that this is a serious mutiny attempt?”

  “I think it may be, sir.”

  Mackenzie nodded, then said, “Here is what I’ve decided. Have the officers report to the quarter deck in full dress at four bells. I will confront Spencer, and if his response is not adequate then I’ll order him to be placed in irons. If he implicates anyone else, then they will be placed in irons also.”

  Ganse said, “Yes sir.”

  “If any of the men watching become unruly, both of you must be prepared to show your pistols and do not hesitate to fire.”

  “Do you mean shoot someone?” Ganse asked.

  “Absolutely, shoot to kill, Ganse. This is not a game. Any hesitation to assert our authority at the outset could be disastrous.”

  Ganse looked at Mackenzie with confusion. He had tried to convince Mackenzie the mutiny plans were real, but the thought of his killing someone had not occurred to him. He had never killed anyone. Did Mackenzie now consider the taking of human life to be as casual as a cup of coffee? Yet, the mutineers are planning to murder us, aren’t they?

  Mackenzie’s sharp voice penetrated his thoughts and restored his attention, “Ganse! Why the scowl? You can do this, can’t you?”

  Ganse prided himself on following orders and automatically blurted, “Yes sir.” His lifetime zeal to become a naval captain flashed through his mind. These dreams had conveniently omitted the possibility of bloodshed.

  Mackenzie asked, “Do you have concerns, Perry?”

  “I’ll shoot if necessary, sir, but I have a concern with taking prisoners. The Somers does not have a brig. Where’ll we house the prisoners?”

  Mackenzie said, “I know we don’t have a brig. That is why we must quell any uprising aggressively, before we are overwhelmed with prisoners. We can keep a few prisoners in irons and under close guard on the deck.”

  Ganse said, “There’s no shelter. They would be exposed to the elements.”

  “Of course. Wayward minds seldom think of the consequences. A little exposure will give them a chance to repent their crimes. Any more questions?”

  “No sir.”

  Mackenzie said, “Cheer up Ganse, this may be just a passing tempest. We’ll get to the truth of it soon. You may go now.”

  **********

  Just before four bells on November the 26th, 1842, the officers began to appear in full dress on the aft spar deck. A steady breeze was moving the Somers at top speed. Full sails induced leverage on the masts forcing a larboard list of varying severity and boisterous rushing water swiped the hull with each swell and rapidly moved on. Occasionally the bow would slap sea spray high enough to land as a misty shower on the deck.

  The officers constantly adjusted cutlasses that were worn only when in full dress uniforms and it was difficult for them to feel at ease wearing them. When not shielding themselves from sea spray, they discussed among themselves why Captain Mackenzie ordered this formal assembly. Spencer stood alone. He scowled with blinking eyes and listened to the other officers, but did not enter into their discussions.

  Men and boys on the spar deck were also curious. Most shipboard events included them in some way, but this time they had not received any orders. Cromwell watched from mid-sh
ip with a brooding expression. He had always been included in any officer assembly and anger undoubtedly smoldered deep in his chest over being overlooked this time. Small stood beside him frowning. Some boys on the bow scuffled in horseplay.

  Neville, at the wheel, pulled the bell rope four times. The sharp clanging sound lingered monetarily on the Somers’ deck before it hurried overboard to be soaked up by the endless sea and space. The peals had not fully dissipated when Ganse and Perry appeared in full dress. They wore a significant addition in contrast to the other officers  pistols in their belts. Not a comfortable arrangement, for the flintlock pistols were over 14 inches long and weighed close to 3 pounds each. A sudden sneeze might subject pistols and trousers to embarrassing forces of gravity. Captain Mackenzie’s cabin door opened and he stepped up onto the spar deck in his full dress uniform, also with a pistol in his belt.