A Question of Duty

by Martin McDowell

  “Please come forward, Madam, and provide this service for us. We are grateful. Your name, please.”

  “Charlotte Willoughby.”

  She immediately began her walk to the front. Cinch looked put out, but Henry Blackwood perked up visibly, suddenly, immensely interested. Charlotte took the letter from Sampson, graced Argent with another beaming smile and then began to read. All was silent as she read, but all was not as still in the mind of Henry Fentiman. To the state of high tension generated by his forthcoming turn to give evidence was added a jealousy that he could not suppress. He slumped glumly in his chair. Meanwhile Charlotte had read the whole and she pronounced.

  “It is not a long letter, but this is what it says. “It is with some concern that the Council of Brittany learns that the Captain of HMS Ariadne is to be tried for the rescue of several women and children taken from both our countries to become slaves. The Council views the rescue of these captives and their return to their families in both our countries, as an action motivated by the highest humanitarian principles and brings credit and dignity to the Royal Navy, whom we have always regarded as our most courageous and honourable opponent throughout the current hostilities. The Council urges that Captain Argent be released not only with reputation unstained, but with his standing enhanced as a gracious Officer in the forces of your King.” The letter ends.”

  She laid the letter on Sampson’s table. Blackwood was grinning openly. Holdsworth offered thanks.

  “We thank you, Miss Willoughby. That was well done. Thank you once again.”

  With a final smile at Argent, Charlotte Willoughby returned to the back of the hall. Meanwhile Sampson had sat down and Holdsworth looked to Cheveley to take his turn. He stood, his face showed his evident anger and he began curtly and abruptly, but Argent was now feeling quite controlled himself and, after the reading of the letter, which was a surprise to him, his spirits were almost buoyant.

  “Captain Argent. What is your estimation of the time it took you to capture the slaver galley.

  “Two days. Plus a half.”

  “And at one point your were actually sailing North, away from your destination?”

  “Yes.”

  “And so, recovering that distance also added to your delay.”

  “Yes.”

  “You knew what the communication was concerned with, it being from the Prime Minister himself.”

  “Yes. That the Austrians were soon to be out of the war.”

  “And you were told the possible consequences of that?”

  “Yes, that Wellington could soon be faced with additional French armies.”

  Cheveley paused, crossed his arms across his chest and regarded Argent coldly.

  “So, in the additional time of your delay, Captain, Lord Wellington may well have set in train an action that, with the addition of unknown French forces, could have put in deep jeopardy all the forces under his command, him being ignorant of the new developments, because you had not yet arrived!”

  Cheveley leaned forward to add force to his last words, but Argent remained expressionless.

  “Perhaps, Captain, yes, but I would wish to make a point of fact, that any army rarely marches more than twenty miles a day. It is very unlikely that the delay would have caused any form of disaster. A fifty mile advance, at most, over the two or three days of my delay could soon be reversed by a fast messenger. That is, if the new information I brought merited it, which, as we have been told, was not the case.”

  “But you did not know that?”

  “No, but sat here now, it doesn’t take a great deal of working out for those able to give it some informed thought.”

  The sarcasm brought sniggers from the audience, which angered Cheveley still further. The audience was on Argent’s side, that was plain, but it was time for his main throw of the dice. He stood facing the Bench.

  “I wish to return Captain, to examine your attitude to your voyage from the outset.”

  He suddenly turned to face Argent.

  “I put it to you, Captain, that all through, from first setting sail, you fully intended to hunt for that galley. To give that priority and only then fully apply yourself to delivering the message, if you were still afloat!”

  “Not true. My orders were clear.”

  “And the question of the slave galley never entered your head, nor was discussed with your Officers?”

  Argent paused and took two long seconds before answering.

  “Not so. There was the clear possibility of us encountering the pirate. We had to decide what we would do.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. Myself and my First. Lieutenant Henry Fentiman.”

  Cheveley turned to Holdsworth.

  “I wish to call Lieutenant Fentiman as a witness for the prosecution.”

  Holdsworth looked at his papers.

  “He’s not on your list!”

  At this point Broke interrupted.

  “Captain Cheveley gave the request to me, written, here it is.”

  He passed the paper along.

  “I do beg your pardon. Giving it to you before we began, slipped my mind.”

  Holdsworth looked angrily at him, then turned to Manners-Sutton, but the latter nodded.

  “The request has been presented to the bench. That makes it allowable.”

  Holdsworth looked to his front.

  “Very well. Lieutenant Henry Fentiman. Please come forward.”

  Fentiman stood, leaving his hat on the chair. He came and stood before Holdsworth, to Argent’s left as he sat at his table. He was plainly agitated and in some unrest; whether from nerves or for some other reason, Argent could not decide. Makeworthy swore him in but one phrase had to be repeated. Cheveley stood by his table and began; he looked confident.

  “Lieutenant Fentiman. Your Captain, Captain Argent, has just told the Court that he discussed with you the issue of the slaver, namely, what you should do if you found him. What is your recollection of that conversation?”

  Fentiman shifted his feet and eased his neck out of his collar.

  “We decided that, if we came upon the slaver, we would take him.”

  “That was decided from the outset?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you would look out for him as you progressed.

  “Yes.”

  “With the same level of effort as if you were actually trying to find him?

  “Yes.”

  Cheveley began to smile; it was evident that he considered this to be a good beginning.

  “Exploring this decision to search. Is it your recollection that you agreed between you to anticipate his course back to Africa and follow?”

  Fentiman swallowed hard, then seemed to compose himself.

  “That was discussed.”

  Cheveley seemed stalled in the flow of his questioning.

  “And what was said?”

  Fentiman opened his mouth and took a deep breath. It was some moments before he answered.

  “It was decided to look into Quessant Bay. We would be passing quite close and we thought that it may have served as a base for him and he may still be there.”

  Slight confusion passed quickly across Cheveley’s face, but he quickly recovered.

  “So you did plan a deviation?”

  Again Fentiman paused, as though struggling for an answer.

  “Not as such.”

  It seemed that frustration was building within Cheveley.

  “What then?”

  “Looking into Quessant Bay was a spur of the moment decision.”

  This was plainly an answer that Cheveley neither wanted nor even expected.

  “Lieutenant, as you crossed The Channel, you established priorities, yes?”

  “After a fashion.”

  “That is no answer, Lieutenant.”

  But Fentiman made no further reply. Argent looked at Broke and Cinch. Both faces showed concern and another button had surrendered on Cinch’s uniform, but it had gone unnoticed. Che
veley was now up close to Fentiman, almost towering over him.

  “To which did you give priority?”

  A change came over Fentiman. He drew himself up to his full height, the muscles in the side of his face standing out as he closed his jaw tight. His fists opened, then closed. Then he spoke.

  “Sir. Our orders were clear, to deliver the letter. We resolved that nothing must put that at risk, but, if we encountered the slaver during that passage, we would stop to take him. Sir.”

  Cheveley was now visibly angry. He remained forceful, but a hint of desperation had crept in.

  “I put it to you, that, as you crossed The Channel you laid plans to go looking for the slaver.”

  Fentiman answered immediately.

  “No.”

  “You concluded between you, that finding that galley mattered most and should come first.”

  “Not true.”

  “That you always intended to follow the coast, the most likely course for a shallow draught galley.”

  “No.”

  “And that you would falsify the Log if needs be to hide your true intent and your actions to carry that out.”

  The last was shouted, almost directly into Fentiman’s face.

  “Sir. We are Naval Officers. We do not falsify Logbooks.”

  Cheveley looked at Fentiman as though he were trying to reduce him to ash with the heat of his gaze. Fentiman looked directly back at him, expressionless. The exchange was held for some seconds, then Cheveley turned away.

  “No further questions.”

  Holdsworth looked over at Sampson but he was wearing a contented half smile, sure in himself that something momentous had just happened.

  “No questions, Sir.”

  “Have you any more witnesses?”

  “No.”

  “Captain Cheveley?”

  Cheveley was sat sprawling in his chair, clearly out of sorts.

  “No.”

  Holdsworth sat back. He looked at his fellow members, both left and right.

  “Has any member of the Court any questions for Captain Argent.”

  He looked again both left and right, but Captain Blackwood had sat forward.

  “Through you, Mr. President.”

  He leant on his elbows, hands clasped before his chin.

  “Captain Argent. I see you wear a bronze Nelson medal.”

  Argent returned the open, almost friendly, look.

  “Yes.”

  “I do also. Mine is for Trafalgar. And yours?”

  “Copenhagen. I was the Fifth on the Ganges. My first Commission.”

  “Right in the centre. The Ganges took a pounding.”

  “She did.”

  “Nelson had orders to withdraw and he ignored them.”

  Blackwood sat back to pause and look carefully at Argent.

  “So what do you think of Nelson?”

  Argent paused himself and thought. Silence was held for some seconds.

  “If you served under Nelson, he made you believe that anything was possible. And, led by Nelson, you were the men to do it!”

  Holdsworth and Grant exchanged glances and sat back in their chairs, faces serious but not disapproving, more showing that they had heard something they would both remember. However, Blackwood was not finished.

  “He openly disobeyed an order to withdraw. What should have happened to him?”

  “He should have been called to account.”

  “But he wasn’t.”

  “No. He was made a Viscount and his Commanding Officer dismissed.”

  Blackwood smiled and sat back, looking at Holdsworth, enough to convey that he was finished. Holdsworth leaned forward.

  “Captain Cheveley. Your closing statement, please.”

  Cheveley lugged himself upright and stood, but did not leave his table.

  “Sirs. Captain Argent is guilty of disobeying orders. His orders were quite clear, to deliver a vital communication from the Prime Minister to the Commander of our forces in The Peninsula; to deliver it with the utmost haste. Any delay in arrival could cause those forces to be placed in great peril, of this he was well aware. That peril would have been caused by the lack of vital information concerning momentous developments elsewhere in Europe and days were then lost through Captain Argent ignoring his duty to obey orders, no matter the consequences. Instead he set his ship off on a series of actions to gain personal glory, that of the momentary acclaim for rescuing a small number of civilians, when a whole army could be at risk.”

  Cheveley rose to his full height, warming to his theme.

  “We who serve know we have to make difficult choices, but our choice is directed by our orders, and Captain Argent had his. Instead he lost time searching into Quessant Bay. He even uses the excuse of allowing old seaman’s tales gleaned from the common members of his crew, to divert him from his most direct course. He lost almost three days to engage the slaver, at one time sailing directly away from his destination. It is clear, from these actions, that Captain Argent had but one intention when he first set sail, that being to set his orders aside and go seeking public acclaim and approval for his own personal glory and satisfaction. Guilty is the only possible verdict.”

  To growls from the audience, Cheveley sat down. Holdsworth looked across at Sampson, who stood and placed himself sideways on, to half face the Bench and half face the audience. He seized both lapels and began.

  “Captain Argent is Not Guilty. Nothing has been placed before this Court to prove that he did not use all the seamanship, experience and expertise at his disposal to guide his ship the quickest to its destination as ordered. He chose the course that he considered most prudent when threatened by a storm and, when the wind and weather became favourable, he set a direct course and set all possible sail.”

  He paused and drew himself up, his voice rising correspondingly.

  “I put it to the Court that this was an unimpeachable series of actions in order to carry out his orders. That it duplicated what would have been done to intercept the slaver pirate is of no consequence, it was pure coincidence.”

  He paused and looked at the floor, before raising his head and continuing.

  “The slaver was encountered. Let us not say found, let us say encountered, by pure chance. At that point, Captain Argent had under his command a ship of very proven quality, a quality that has been displayed once more, very recently. Just last week, unsupported, his ship engaged three French cruisers, sank one and damaged a third.”

  He paused and adjusted his hands on his lapels, noting with satisfaction the nodding heads around the hall.

  “Are we to say, that this good Captain, should sail right past, right past, and do nothing, nothing, to rescue those women and children who were being shipped off to who knows what kind of Hell, as slaves to North African despots and potentates?”

  Growls of agreement came from the audience, which Sampson allowed to be heard before he continued.

  “To answer that question, we only have to ask, what is the Royal Navy for? Captain Argent himself answered that question, the answer being to keep the citizens of our King George from injury and harm, both themselves and their freedom. And their freedom!”

  He paused again.

  “Captain Argent was the deciding Officer at the scene and he chose to rescue those people. Not only was that the correct humanitarian act, but, as the letter from Brittany has shown, he has increased the standing of our country and our Navy, even amongst our enemies, as being motivated and guided by the highest ideals of honour and integrity. That he is innocent of both charges is the only possible outcome.”

  Cheering broke out from certain quarters around the hall but Holdsworth seized his gavel and hammered it into silence. That done, Holdsworth spoke.

  “This Court will now withdraw to consider its verdict.”

  He looked directly at Argent.

  “Captain Argent. Whilst the verdict is being considered, we must consider you to be a prisoner. You must remain in your place,
there, until we return.”

  He looked off to the side and three Marines came forward to place themselves around Argent’s table, one behind him and one at each side. Argent remained sitting, whilst all others stood as the Bench filed out, with Makeworthy carrying the sword. Sampson came first to his table and Argent stood, checking first that this was allowable with the Sergeant of Marines. Sampson spoke first.

  “I think optimism is justified. I feel we’ve won on both points. Well done.”

  “Well done to you, Christopher. All arguments well marshalled, I don’t think we could have done more. We have good cause to be hopeful.”

  He smiled at Sampson.

  “Now. Don’t let me keep you here. They’ll be at least two hours and you deserve some refreshment and some fresh air.”

  At that moment Enid, Emily and Charlotte arrived together. Sampson bowed and took his leave as Emily shouted from yards away.

  “You’re innocent! It’s obvious.”

  Argent released a deep breath, which terminated in a laugh.

  “I very much hope so, but you are not to worry. It’s all technical. The worst that can happen is that I’ll end up pushing a plough alongside Father.”

  He laughed at his own joke, but his sisters’ faces remained deeply worried. Argent turned to Charlotte.

  “My deepest thanks for the support you have brought with you, and your translation of the letter. Did it really say that?”

  She screwed up her face.

  “Well, yes, sort of. I did my best, but I may have embellished it a bit! “Added in translation” would be my excuse.”

  All laughed, even Enid and Emily, just!

  “Well, I’m grateful. It all helped I’m sure. But…..”

  He sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

  “…….I’m afraid I’m ordered remain here.”

  It was Enid who answered.

  “Would you like something to eat? And to drink?”

  Argent nodded, vigorously.

  “Yes, that would be nice. I am thirsty.”

  He turned to the Marine Sergeant.

  “Is that allowable, Sergeant?”

  The reply was growled from behind a coal black chinstrap, from a face more quarried than born of woman.