by V. A. Stuart
“The Bey says he did not,” the interpreter answered, looking down at his feet.
“Dr Corbett will confirm that this was the case, sir,” Fraser told the President. He asked a few more mildly phrased questions and then, as Faruk was becoming more self-assured, taxed him concerning his brother’s attack on the wounded Russian.
“The Russian was endeavouring to escape. He ran at my brother,” the Bey said.
“And your brother moved to prevent his escape?”
“Naturally he did. The Russian swine could not be permitted to escape.”
“Was it natural for your brother to strike the man’s head from his body? That was what he did, was it not, with his scimitar?” Fraser paused. “And then Commander Hazard fired at him, as he had repeatedly warned you that he would?”
Faruk shrugged and remained silent.
“Dr Corbett of the Miranda, whom I intend to call as a witness, will tell the Court that he saw the decapitated body of a Russian soldier in the hospital, sir,” James Fraser stated quietly. “I shall also call Sergeant Playforth, of the Royal Marines, to offer confirmation, not only of this but of the fact that Faruk Bey informed him that Commander Hazard was a Russian spy, masquerading as a British Officer, and ordered the sergeant to arrest him.”
“Commander, I doubt whether that evidence will be necessary,” Captain Crawford told him. He glanced enquiringly at the other members of the Court, and on receiving their nods of agreement, consulted his watch and announced an adjournment.
Despite his observation, however, the hearing continued, with several of Faruk’s Officers being called to support their Commander but they made a poor impression and, at the end of the day, James Fraser was jubilant. “I shall call you to speak in your own defence tomorrow morning, Hazard my friend,” he said. “And that, I am sure, will be the end of this strange and unhappy affair. You’ll be cleared of all charges.”
Phillip hoped fervently that he was right but he experienced some uneasiness when he saw the young diplomat buttonhole Captain Crawford and another member of the Court and proceed to detain them, talking volubly, whilst the others filed out. Significantly, the French and Turkish Officers, with whom he had been sitting, also remained behind but, when he pointed this out to Fraser, his defending Officer assured him that there was no reason for anxiety.
“They cannot dictate to the Court, Hazard. They are here as observers only and have no legal right even to discuss the Court’s proceedings whilst your case is still sub judice.”
Nevertheless, when the hearing was resumed the following morning, Commander Danver’s request to recall Captain Kirkoff was granted. His re-examination was mainly concerned with the death of Midshipman O’Hara and, although the Russian had little new evidence to add, he contrived to make several damaging references to the poor state of discipline of the prize-crew, to which—by implication—he suggested that the boy’s death was due. James Fraser’s efforts to shake him had almost no effect and Phillip was in an anxious and unhappy frame of mind when the Court adjourned for luncheon. He was a trifle cheered by a note he found waiting for him from Captain Keppel, of the St Jean d’Acre, under whose command he had served as a midshipman in the frigate Maeander.
“My dear Phillip,” the note read. “As you may—or may not—be aware, I have recently assumed command of the Naval Brigade, vice Commodore Lushington, who is going home. The brave William Peel, who was wounded on the 18th, is also leaving us and our losses, during the ill-fated attack on the Redan were, alas, heavy.
“I am therefore anxious to obtain the services of some more good young Officers—especially of your calibre—so, if you should have any thought of applying to join my new command, be assured that I should welcome you warmly.”
Phillip frowned, as he folded the note and placed it in his pocket-book. He had always had a great admiration for the fiery, courageous Henry Keppel and was grateful for the kindness which had prompted his one-time Captain to write to him in these terms but … why had he done so? What could have prompted the kindness, unless … he felt a sudden, nagging fear that would not be assuaged.
There must be rumours that his trial was going badly for him, he thought, otherwise why should Keppel have had the note delivered to him here, on board the Hannibal, before the Court’s findings were known? And why should he have suggested an application for appointment to the Naval Brigade to a young Officer, who had only recently been given his first sea command, unless he knew or had a shrewd suspicion that he was about to be deprived of his command? There was never any shortage of volunteers for the Naval Brigade—Captain Keppel had no need to seek them out, just as he had never had to seek good seamen to man any ship he put into commission. His reputation was enough and yet … Phillip was conscious of a bitter taste in his mouth and the elation he had felt on first receiving the note swiftly faded.
When the Court resumed, James Fraser opened the case for the defence. His opening address was a model of its kind, pithy, factual, and admirably clear, but it soon became evident that he was not going to be permitted to develop his arguments. His witnesses were heard and dismissed with extraordinary haste, Commander Danvers cutting short their examination with a smooth, “I concede the facts you are seeking to establish, sir. Further questions are unnecessary, since the Court accepts them also.”
Fraser said apologetically, when Dr Corbett had been allowed to do no more than testify as to the nature and severity of Phillip’s wounds, “Your two seamen from the Huntress still haven’t made their appearance, Hazard, so I’ve no choice but to put you on the witness stand now. I’ve made enquiries for the men and they’ll be brought here the instant they report but”—he spread his hands helplessly—“we’ll need to do the best we can without them, I’m afraid. Keep cool, try not to lose your temper and allow me to lead you as much as I can.” Phillip nodded, tight-lipped, and his defending Officer laid a hand on his arm. “The pattern is starting to emerge, I think. They will try to have you on two counts—responsibility for the loss of your midshipman, and exceeding your authority in your treatment of Captain Kirkoff and Faruk.”
This forecast proved an accurate one. Phillip was tense and apprehensive as he took the oath and began to tell his story but James Fraser questioned him so skilfully that gradually the tension drained out of him and he found himself able to give his account of what had happened as easily and naturally as if he were making a report to an ordinary gathering of senior Officers. He felt that he had made a reasonably good impression until, reaching the point in his narrative which covered O’Hara’s unexpected attempt to tow away the bomb, the President intervened.
“I wish to be quite clear on this matter, Commander Hazard,” he said. “You had not ordered Midshipman O’Hara to tow the Russian infernal device away from your paddle-wheels?”
“No, sir,” Phillip answered, careful to speak without heat. “I had ordered him to lower the gig and to stand by at the mid-ship chains. I intended to deal with the infernal device—that is, the floating bomb, sir—myself. My gunner’s mate had prepared a charge, with which to—”
Captain Crawford cut him short. “Your intentions have no bearing on what happened. In fact, Mr O’Hara was acting without orders when he made his attempt to remove the bomb?”
“Yes, sir, he was. But he was a very keen and very courageous young Officer. He acted on impulse, with the intention of sparing me by taking my place and—”
Again Captain Crawford interrupted. “We are not concerned with intentions, Commander Hazard, only with facts. Midshipman O’Hara is not here to testify as to his intentions, is he? The unfortunate boy is dead.”
Phillip felt the blood drain from his cheeks. Suddenly he was back on the Constantine’s paddle-box, peering down at O’Hara, seeing his face, hearing his voice, strained and fearful. “Sir … the bomb’s yawing an awful lot. I don’t think I can hold it … I’ll have to fend it off. My—my hands are slipping, sir.”
“In our pursuit of facts”—Crawford’s voic
e broke into his thoughts, sounding cold, even hostile—“what steps did you take to save this inexperienced midshipman of yours from the consequences of his unauthorized action?”
Phillip told him conscious, as he did so, of how inadequate his efforts sounded. James Fraser made an attempt to intervene but the President waved him to silence.
“Continue, Commander Hazard, if you please. Since your rescue operation apparently took so long, why did you not simply order Midshipman O’Hara to leave the bomb where it was and row himself to safety in the gig?”
“I feared that if I ordered him to release the bomb, sir, it would strike against my paddle-wheels and explode. If it had, he would not have reached safety. He—”
“In the event, he did not—he was blown up when the bomb did explode, was he not? At least you might have given the boy a chance of escape. Were you, perhaps, afraid that he would not obey you, if you ordered him to release his hold on the bomb?”
Phillip shook his head. “No, sir,” he answered bitterly. “I was not afraid of that.” There was a murmur from the assembled Officers and Crawford went on relentlessly, “You had the advantage of having secured a set of Russian plans, diagrams of these infernal machines, which clearly showed their construction and the means by which they were detonated, on your own admission. Did you at any time show these diagrams to Midshipman O’Hara?”
“No, sir.”
“Why not? He was acting as your second-in-command surely? He was the only Officer in your prize-crew.”
“I showed them to my gunner’s mate, sir. I considered him to be—”
“Ah, your gunner’s mate—Thompson, is his name, I believe. Well, he’s not here to support your testimony, is he?”
“He has been sent for, sir,” James Fraser put in. “But as I explained to the Court, neither he nor the other witness from the Huntress has yet reached this anchorage and—”
“The Court is aware of the absence of these two witnesses,” Crawford said brusquely. “And has ruled on it. Pray continue, Commander Hazard.”
The questions came, coldly voiced, accusing, unanswerable and Phillip could only reply in stiff, monosyllabic denials which, even to his own ears, sounded unconvincing.
“Search your conscience, Commander Hazard,” Captain Crawford finally invited. “And tell me frankly—do you or do you not consider yourself to blame for the death of this gallant and promising young Officer?”
Phillip faced him, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach but it was O’Hara’s voice he heard, shrill and eager, calling up to him a second or two before the bomb had burst. “I’ve got the hang of it, sir … it’s coming quite easily. All you have to do is hold it steady …” Oh, for God’s sake, of course he had been to blame! There was no need to search his conscience, no point in trying to hide the truth.
“I hold myself solely to blame, sir,” he said firmly, ignoring Fraser’s warning headshake.
Satisfied, the President leaned back in his chair. After a pregnant silence, he motioned James Fraser to continue but the harm was done and Phillip knew, from the expression of dismay on his defending Officer’s craggy face, that he had condemned himself. And yet, he thought, with numb resignation, he had told the simple truth—O’Hara’s death would be on his conscience to the end of his days.
He gave the rest of his evidence with a harsh brevity which, he could see, distressed the man who was trying, with all the skill at his command, to defend him but Fraser was fighting a lost cause now and they both knew it. His carefully planned effort to enlarge on the heroism of Phillip’s single-handed dash down channel in the stricken Constantine would have done credit to any of a dozen of the most eminent Queen’s Counsel on the London circuit, but it was defeated as much by Phillip’s own lack of response as by Commander Danvers’s assurance that the facts were not in dispute.
Captain Crawford did not intervene again until Phillip was giving an account of his clash with Faruk Bey but, once again, by means of a few accusing questions, the President forced the admission from him that he had acted entirely on his own initiative.
“You had received no orders to prevent Allied troops from taking prisoner any of the Yenikale garrison remaining in the fort?”
“No, sir.”
“You had, in fact, no communication with any senior Officer from the time you went aboard the brig Constantine until the late Captain Lyons came ashore from the Miranda and found you being held by a party of Royal Marines, under Sergeant Playforth?”
“No, sir, none at all,” Phillip was compelled to admit.
“And you made no attempt to identify yourself as an Officer in the Royal Navy to Sergeant Playforth?”
“I was unable to do so, sir. I was unconscious. One of Sergeant Playforth’s party struck me on the head with his musket butt and—”
“We have heard the sergeant’s evidence to that effect, Commander Hazard. If he found it hard to recognize you for what you are, how much harder must it have been for Faruk Bey, who is an Officer in the Turkish Service?”
“Nevertheless, Commander Hazard,” James Fraser put in quickly. “You did inform the Bey of your identity, did you not?”
“Yes,” Phillip confirmed wearily. “I did. In French, which is a language he appeared to speak and understand, until he was called upon to give evidence to this Court.”
“The members of this Court are not all as fluent as you claim to be,” Crawford returned. He shook his head firmly to Fraser’s request for an adjournment. “I hardly think it will be necessary, Commander Fraser. The cross-examination will not take long, I am confident, and it seems to me that it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that we may be able to conclude this trial today, if you have no more evidence to offer. It has already occupied the valuable time of a number of Officers whose presence is urgently required for the prosecution of the war. I myself have orders to proceed to Kinburn as soon as I am free of my duties here.” He glanced enquiringly round the table. “In fact, gentlemen, with your agreement, I propose that we sit late, if necessary, in order to avoid our having to give another day to it.”
There were murmurs of assent. “But, sir,” James Fraser began indignantly. “Surely you cannot—”
Captain Crawford silenced him with an imperiously raised hand. “I am fully aware, Commander, that this may preclude you from calling witnesses to testify to the accused Officer’s previous good conduct and character. But the Court is more than willing to concede that Commander Hazard bears an exemplary character and that he has a distinguished record in the Service. Furthermore, it has before it a written statement from the Commander-in-Chief to the effect that, at the request of his son, the late Captain Edmund Lyons, he has drawn the attention of Their Lordships of the Board of Admiralty to Commander Hazard’s gallantry, in the affair of which we have heard this afternoon. This will be taken into account by the Court, you may be sure, when it arrives at its findings …” he talked on but Phillip scarcely heard him.
The Admiral had not abandoned him, he thought thankfully. Even in his grief, he had remembered and taken effective action, and this despite the fact that Jack had been unable to write the full report he had intended to submit … meeting Fraser’s mutely questioning gaze, he nodded, and the defending Officer bowed and resumed his seat.
Commander Danvers rose to take his place, with the announcement that he had only three questions to ask. All three concerned the treatment meted out to Captain Kirkoff, all three contained the subtle suggestion that Phillip had acted without orders and without regard for Kirkoff’s rank and status as a prisoner-of-war, and he replied to all three with crisp and confident rejections.
“I am ready to admit, sir,” he said, addressing Captain Crawford, “that, had I been in Captain Kirkoff’s situation, I should have refused—as he did—to co-operate with an enemy. On the other hand, I do not, in all honesty, believe that I should have offered the provocation this Officer saw fit to offer to seamen, of inferior rank, who were restrained by their respect for nava
l discipline from retaliating. None of my men retaliated, sir, I give you my word. They only laid hands on Captain Kirkoff on my instructions, in order to prevent him from damaging the Constantine—and thus placing our mission in jeopardy.”
“The Court will accept your assurance,” Captain Crawford answered. “It is with your own actions that we are concerned.”
“Yes, sir, I appreciate that,” Phillip said quietly. “My actions are for you to judge, so I will offer no excuses. I also accept full responsibility for the death of Midshipman O’Hara, which I regret with all my heart.”
“Very well, Commander Hazard. Have you anything else to say on your own behalf?”
Phillip shook his head. What else, he wondered wearily, was there to say? He was about to return to his seat when Commander Danvers asked sharply, “One last question, Commander Hazard. Were you ordered to capture the Russian brig Constantine for the specific purpose of sounding and buoying the Yenikale channel or were your orders to do so in your own ship, the Huntress?”
“I …” unprepared for this question, Phillip caught his breath. “My orders were to sound and buoy the channel,” he answered, after a brief hesitation. “If possible without making the enemy aware of my presence or my purpose and without taking unnecessary risks to my ship and her crew. I took—that is to say, I came upon the Constantine unexpectedly, in the fog, and decided that I could best carry out my orders by putting a prize-crew aboard her and using her instead of my own ship.”
“Then from the outset,” Danvers suggested unpleasantly, “you were acting according to your own interpretation of your orders, even contrary to them?”
Phillip inclined his head in wordless assent and, walking stiffly, went back to his seat. He listened to but did not consciously hear Danvers’s closing address and took in little more of James Fraser’s. Then, escorted by John Macdonald, he rose, bowed to the Court and left its members to their deliberations, returning to the cabin which had been placed at his disposal to await the verdict.