A Question of Duty

by Martin McDowell

  “A dangerous place, Argent.”

  Holdsworth let the point hang.

  “Yes Sir. But our orders were to burn if we couldn’t cut out, and damage if we couldn’t burn. Her stern was vulnerable, Sir, and so we attacked. To do her what damage we could. Sir.”

  Holdsworth showed no reaction, he merely lifted himself up and looked either side at his companions. He then turned back to Argent.

  “And when you learned of the signal to withdraw, what was your immediate reaction?”

  “To look at the situation with the Marines, Sir, who by this time were aboard La Pomone and had been for some minutes. They were still aboard her at that point but the first were coming back off. I had the tow in place to bring their lugger away and so I waited until all were off. The last was Captain Ramsey and when he came I knew that there could be no more Marines remaining. At that moment I began my withdrawal and cut the anchor cable for the tide to carry us out.”

  “So, if I understand your Log here correctly, you set off, out, with the lugger in tow?”

  “That’s correct. Sir.”

  “Once you were out in the Roads, where was Herodotus?”

  “Almost left the harbour, Sir, certainly by the time we got ourselves into the Roads proper. At that point she was passing the island bastion, Sir, either opposite or past it, I didn’t study her too closely, I had concerns of my own.”

  A hubbub came forward to him from the audience; all had listened avidly, but many were now commenting on the conduct of Herodotus. Holdsworth’s voice cut through the murmur.

  “So, how did that sit with your agreed plan?”

  “Not at all, Sir. My understanding from our meeting to plan the raid, was that Herodotus would not cut her anchor until my bowsprit was over her taffrail. We used those exact words, and written orders confirmed that.”

  Again, the deep growling set up behind Argent. “What was he about?” was heard clearly and more than once. Holdsworth sat back, plainly he considered that he had heard something significant. He studied what was evidently a copy of the orders, then looked at Grant, then at Broke, who took his cue.

  “You engaged the main bastion together on your exit, Captain?”

  Argent looked squarely at Broke, directly into eyes that he saw were worried, more than a little, but were, nevertheless, equally hostile.

  “No Sir. Certainly not in the way that was planned. When my guns came within effective range, Herodotus was gone; she was no longer within any kind of range, even extreme. We passed the bastion alone, Sir, and we engaged it on our own. It was then that I sustained my worst damage and the majority of my casualties. We took all their fire and …….”

  Broke interrupted.

  “I understand Captain. I hear your answer.”

  Argent looked at Holdsworth.

  “If I may finish, Sir?”

  Holdsworth nodded, Broke screwed up his face.

  “We took all their fire and it was then that the lugger was sunk, but we got the crew and Marines off her. Sir. Then we took ourselves out, to pass the last fort, that was still held by the Marines.”

  Holdsworth looked blankly at Argent but perhaps his eyes were no longer the previous mere slits of malevolence.

  “We may call you again, Captain. Is your Quartermaster here?”

  “Yes Sir. Zachary Short.”

  Holdsworth spoke no more, it was plain what he now wanted. Argent rose and walked around the chair. Zachary Short was shuffling along his row, treading unconsciously on feet, anxious to reach the required place. He did so and sat, but Holdsworth had other ideas.

  “Stand up, Short.”

  Zachary Short did so and saluted, instinctively. Holdsworth turned to Dunstaple.

  “Give him the Oath.”

  Dunstaple picked up The Bible and the Oath was repeated, nervously and some parts twice. Holdsworth resumed his “chin on hands” pose.

  “Now, Short. You were at the wheel of the Ariadne throughout the whole?”

  Short came to the attention and stared just above Holdsworth’s head.

  “Aye Sir. Yes Sir.”

  “When you got under way to come out, what order did you receive?”

  “I remembers it clear, Sir. Up helm and take us out.”

  “So you steered for the harbour entrance?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “What did you see of Herodotus?”

  “When, Sir?”

  “When you got into the Roads!”

  “Yes Sir. Well, the wind was abeam, Sir, so I eased her over, and, like you ask, got into the Roads to gain the full tide.”

  Holdsworth’s mouth set in a tight line of impatience.

  “And Herodotus?”

  “Well Sir, when we got in the Roads I lay for the entrance Sir. ‘Twere then that I was looking down harbour. All I could see of her as I lay for the entrance, was her stern, Sir. Driver out to starboard and about where Cap’n Argent said, Sir. ‘Twere too far to be more accurate ‘bout exactly where she was, certainly how far ahead of us.”

  “Short. I’m asking for her exact position.”

  Short was growing in confidence.

  “I couldn’t give it, Sir, I couldn’t say to no more accurate than a cable or more. She was too far.”

  “How far ahead of you?”

  “Well, when I got us square in the Roads, Sir, you’ve got to be lookin' at somethin’ not far short of a mile ahead!”

  Holdsworth looked down and sat back.

  “Dismiss, Short.”

  Amidst the recurring growl of muted discussion, Zachary Short came to the attention and saluted. He then returned to his place, smiling, this time avoiding feet, but not the congratulatory slaps on the arm from his mates. Holdsworth was speaking again.

  “Marine Colonel Shortman.”

  From some way down the row from Argent, Shortman rose and marched to the chair, sword hilt in his left hand, shako tucked under his right. He came beside the chair, came to the attention and saluted, but did not sit.

  “Please to sit, Colonel.”

  Shortman did and arranged himself whilst Holdsworth waited.

  “Colonel. You were present at the meeting to conceive a plan for this raid?”

  “I was.”

  “And what is your recollection of how the three vessels would leave on completion of attacking La Pomone, that being both frigates, plus the lugger?”

  “In close consort, Sir, with Ariadne towing the lugger. Captain Argent has the words correct. Herodotus would not cut her cable until Ariadne’s bowsprit was over her taffrail.”

  “And was this the case?”

  “No Sir. Herodotus came down alone, and Ariadne much later.”

  “How much later?”

  “A good five minutes, Sir. More like ten.”

  Holdsworth again sat back, stretching his forearms forward on the table, this now his signal that the questioning was done.

  “You may go, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, Sir, but I’d like to say one further thing, Sir. I watched Ariadne put up a fight in that harbour such as I’ve never heard of. If the Frogs ever thought we’ve gone soft since Trafalgar, they don’t now!”

  Applause and cheers broke out around the hall and Holdsworth seized his gavel to pound it on the table.

  “Silence! Silence!”

  When he could be heard without shouting, he spoke further, dismissively.

  “That’s all, Colonel.”

  Whilst Shortman marched back to his place to about turn and sit, Holdsworth was in discussion with his Board. Silence fell as they deliberated, then Holdsworth looked up.

  “Lieutenant Sanders.”

  Sanders rose and quickly reached the chair to immediately sit.

  “Lieutenant. You commanded the lugger that attacked La Pomone?”

  Sanders nodded and spoke.

  “Sir.”

  “What did you see on entry to the harbour?”

  “I saw La Pomone berthed over to our larboard, Sir. Stern show
ing.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “Made straight for her, Sir.”

  “You did not look for orders from your superior?”

  “Well, no Sir. “Cut out, burn, or damage, Sir, were our standing orders. So we set off to set about the damaging. Sir.”

  Sanders actually smiled, good naturedly, as he delivered his answer, as though the answer were already plain and obvious and behind him laughter actually broke out. Holdsworth used his gavel again and having stared the assembly into silence, he continued.

  “Your zeal for your duty does you credit, Lieutenant. You speak as though you acted independently.”

  “Why, no Sir, that doesn’t quite apply. We sailed in alongside Ariadne, just off her larboard quarter. Captain Argent hailed across that we should get across her stern, to use our charges, and that we had five minutes on her. Sir.”

  Holdsworth did not assume his “finish” posture, but nevertheless, Sanders was waved away.

  “Sailing Master McArdle.”

  McArdle rose from beside Zachary Short and eased his way along the row, taking his time, looking up, along and over, to the four at the table. Once beside the chair he stood, at his full height and awaited the arrival of Dunstaple, whose approach down the tunnel of McArdle’s gaze gave Dunstaple the strong impression that this Warrant Officer regarded him as some kind of ignorant imbecile to outrageously presume that he, McArdle, needed to take an Oath to tell the truth. Nevertheless, McArdle took The Bible, held it aloft for all to see and spoke the words, spoken as though at the end of a Hellfire sermon, delivered to commend the congregation to even deeper righteousness. This done he turned his baleful gaze upon Holdsworth and waited. Holdsworth seemed more than slightly intimidated.

  “McArdle. You are the Sailing Master of HMS Ariadne?”

  “That is correct. Sir.”

  “When Ariadne entered the harbour and you saw La Pomone, how did you assess the task ahead?”

  Perhaps from irritation or for some other reason, McArdle’s Scottish accent became even thicker.

  “Nay too difficult, Sir, with guid seamanship and ship handlin’. Timin’ was all important, but we achieved it. Sir.”

  “Achieved? Elaborate.”

  “I tak’ it ye’re asking aboot the trickier parts, Sir, but they were completed well enough. We sailed up past La Pomone, close enough to rake her, completed our turn, at the same time gettin’ a cable to the lugger, then held our place on the anchor, the exact place, I wish to make clear. When the time came, we cut our cable and towed her out, Sir, that bein’ the lugger full of Marines.”

  “And your escape?”

  McArdle looked at Holdsworth as though he were one of his pupils taking a Noon sight, one that had placed them somewhere in the Sahara.

  “We got out, Sir, because I’m here tae tell ye aboot it, but I’m of a mind to say that I’m of the opinion that they was firin’ 42’s, Sir, nae 32 pound. Sailin’ alone past that bastion, Sir, I don’t mind tellin’ ye, I said a very long prayer, us being wholly alone and full in the hands of the Good Lord.”

  More laughter and more gavelling. Holdsworth rose and stood, as did his companions and he waited for silence.

  “We will now adjourn for a short time. Assume resumption in 30 minutes.”

  With that, leaving McArdle at attention, all four took themselves away to the door from which they had entered, again in line astern, with Dunstaple bringing up the rear. The door closed behind them, at which point Argent looked at Fentiman and gave a deep and prolonged exhalation of breath. The look they exchanged carried the same message, “So far, so good.” Argent turned and looked at Short, also McArdle, now back in his place, he having dismissed himself.

  “Well spoken. Well spoken to you both.”

  He looked directly at Short, for his next words could not apply to McArdle.

  “It couldn’t have been easy. You shaped up well.”

  Both spoke their thanks in unison and the three Officers stood, if for no other reason than to stretch their legs. Many others in the hall were doing the same and Argent looked around. He saw Charlotte and Lady Grant, both remaining seated, and both gave him a cheery wave, which he returned, but their regarding him was interrupted by Cheveley, who placed himself in a vacant chair before them, to turn and engage them in some conversation. He appeared neither worried, nor under any strain, but Argent didn’t care what happened to Cheveley; as long as Ariadne emerged with her reputation unsullied, that was the only result that mattered to him. Sanders was talking to Fraser, Short and McArdle, but Fentiman came to stand at Argent’s side.

  “I’ve heard that the defendant’s case is taken last, in a Court of Law, so at least we can take some comfort in that. They don’t seem to regard us as being amongst the accused.”

  Argent turned to his Lieutenant, with a smile that matched the hope in both.

  “A turn around the deck, I think.”

  “Good idea, Sir.”

  For some minutes they perambulated around the hall, keeping to the outside, sometimes stopping to examine a naval painting, usually commenting on the impossibility of what the artist was showing, given the deduced direction of the wind, tide and other factors, but they both indulgently forgave all in the name of artistic licence. They came up to Captain Baker, but there was little to say, other than to voice the obvious, “So far, so good.” The door opened and Dunstaple re-appeared to stand and wait, which fixed posture conveyed the message to all assembled that they should quickly resume their seats. With that achieved, Dunstaple looked through the door and the three entered. Once sat, Holdsworth lost no time.

  “Captain Argent. Return if you please.”

  Argent noted the polite addition, but he did not allow his face to show any emotion. He quickly came to the chair and Holdsworth began.

  “Captain Argent, it seems to me that, with La Pomone berthed so securely and under the guns of two powerful forts, that to proceed further was reckless in the extreme, and would put at risk two valuable frigates and a good number of men.”

  Holdsworth let the statement hang. With nothing more forthcoming Argent concluded that he must respond, but not too soon. He allowed a quizzical look to pass across his face.

  “That is a point of view, Sir, but I don’t share it. La Pomone was, is still, a major threat. Our orders were to “cut out, burn, or damage”, and we were there, in the harbour and could see her vulnerable at the stern. I concluded that the chance to damage her was clear and achievable. I followed orders.”

  “Whose orders?”

  Argent was taken aback.

  “Why, Sir, the written orders of Admiral Grant, which became the standing orders for the raid”

  Broke placed his hand on Holdsworth’s sleeve, he wished to intervene and he looked at Argent, pure hatred present in each part of his face.

  “Captain Argent, you were the Senior Officer in the position to make the judgement. You proceeded, and you proceeded recklessly.”

  Argent was incensed, not only by Broke’s openly aggressive tone but also by the words forming his questioning.

  “Yes Sir, I did proceed, but those were my orders. I followed my orders. I was not made Commodore; you gave that post to Captain Cheveley. It was not for me to decide to set those orders aside, Sir, and break off the action, or any other deviation.”

  Broke glared back with a look of triumph.

  “But you received an order from your Commodore, did you not, Argent? An order to withdraw.”

  Argent could see where this was going.

  “I cannot speak for when the order was given, Sir, I can only speak for when my signalman brought it to my attention and I could act upon it. That time, Sir, was when the action was well under way. Well under way! The Marines were committed and on La Pomone. We had raked her, turned, and anchored across her stern. Only then, after those things had taken place, did I get the signal”

  “The time of the signal is not in your Logbook.”

  “No Sir. Unde
r the circumstances no one thought to look at their timepiece.”

  “Then we can only look to the efficiency of your ship, Captain, that being the relaying of orders from your Commodore, in this case Captain Cheveley.”

  “I have no reason to doubt the efficiency of my signalman, Sir. His task was to watch Herodotus for signals. As to when the signal was first flown, you will have to ask Captain Cheveley. All I can say in addition, Sir, is that there was a lot of smoke, and, when the signal was made known to me, I obeyed as soon as I could, but I was not going to abandon the Marines, Sir.”

  Comments came from behind Argent, within hearing distance of the table, “damn right”, “hear him”, “impossible”. Holdsworth looked at Broke, with a frown, but giving him the opportunity for more. However, Broke was finished and it was Holdsworth who spoke.

  “Thank you, Captain Argent.”

  But Argent’s temper was roused.

  “I’d like to say more, Sir, in that we did damage La Pomone, after all, she is out of commission. We did manage to fight our way out, but my damage and casualties would have been a lot less if we weren’t alone, and also the fort that did us the damage would perhaps have been less potent, had Herodotus engaged her for some while longer. She, after all, Sir, was the 42 gun frigate!”

  Argent rose, amidst the buzz of open conversation, but feeling no better for his outburst. He marched back to his chair and sat. Holdsworth looked blank, showing no reaction, instead, he lowered his head and consulted his notes.

  “First Lieutenant Lord Harrison Charles Langley.”

  A slim figure of medium height rose over on Argent’s left and made his way to the front of the audience. In line with the chair, he strolled towards it, at the same time feeling for the correct arrangement of his shirt cuffs that protruded from his sleeves, which Argent noticed were made of lace. His whole couture was immaculate, the additional decoration to his uniform just the wrong side of acceptable, but, plainly, Langley expected to get away with it. There were black bows and brass buckles at each strategic point and gold braid gleamed. On reaching the chair, he stood before it and shot his coat tails backwards before seating himself; he would take no risk of creasing the drape of so splendid a piece of naval tailoring. Thus arranged, he looked at Holdsworth who assumed his questioning posture of fingers counterpoised, chin upon the arch, elbows on the table.