After spending only a few minutes on the man, they handed him over to the midshipman who supervised the people in the waist of the ship.
As Phillips began to interview another man, he saw the big fellow spit tobacco juice onto his deck at the fourteen year old midshipman’s feet. A bosun’s mate had also noticed and went after the culprit with a knotted rope’s end. Then there was a free for all on the quarterdeck. The big fellow took the rope’s end away from the bosun’s mate and began punching the petty officer in the face with his fists.
A Marine got into the fray, but had his musket torn from his grasp and thrown over the side. The Marine sergeant and corporal entered the conflict to show the privates how it was done. Each proceeded to smash the man in turn with musket butt strokes, pounding him ‘till he lay bleeding and senseless on the deck.
Phillips ordered Sergeant Reynolds to take the man below and secure him for the time being. There was muttering among the remaining members of the crew as they were formed up again before the captain and first officer to make their marks on the ship’s book and receive their duty assignments.
Hoping there would be no immediate signals for him to report to the flag, Phillips summoned the Sergeant Reynolds before him after finishing processing the hands. Ordering the sergeant to report, Reynolds stood there at attention a moment, getting his thoughts in order.
“Sah, pris’ner is secured on the mess deck. Privates Atkins and Wilson watching him. Sah, there ain’t no irons on the ship I could find, so we bound him up with line I got from the bosun.”
“Very well, Sergeant, I’ll see what I can do about the irons. Tell me, as the aggrieved party, what are your views about the disposition of this case?”
“Sah, can’t say I understood some of them words you used.”
“What do you think we should do with the prisoner? He deserves a court martial for striking you and the corporal. If I send him to shore, he will surely hang.”
“Sah, if you please. You don’t have to hang the man for me. If he tries us on again, my men will take care of him.”
“Well Sergeant, unless you and the corporal press charges, I will bring the man to Mast on the charges of spitting on the deck and contempt to officers. I assume he has been injured while resisting arrest. As soon as our surgeon comes aboard, I will ask him to examine the man to determine when he will be able to receive punishment. Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed.”
The brig was small and sounds carried easily from bow to stern. Normally, there were plenty of shipboard noises to mask any particular sounds, but in a quiet moment, the captain thought he heard some muffled thuds and a choked off scream. Absently, he hailed the Royal Marine sentry outside his door and asked him if he had seen the first officer.
“Sah, first officer is on the quarterdeck, Sah!
“Would you pass the word for him please?”
While waiting, Phillips re-examined the inventory of shipboard items he had signed when he took command. When Wainright appeared, his captain waved him to the chair and asked. “Mister Wainright, I know we have no armorer on the books. Would you know if we have any man on board with that skill?”
Wainright thought a moment. “Sir, Landsman Warren is a runaway farrier’s apprentice. He is the only one I can think of.”
“Thank you Lieutenant. It seems we have no irons on board. I do notice I have signed for a forge and a supply of coal for it. As a means of testing the man, perhaps you would have him set the forge up forward and have him attempt to make a set of irons, Better have some people standing by to make sure he does not set the ship on fire.”
A glass later, Phillips became aware of the smell of recently lit charcoal and soon after, the sounds of hot iron being beaten on an anvil. When he went on deck later, he found the new armorer hard at work beating out a bolt. A perfectly formed manacle lay in a bucket of seawater. The bosun’s mate fished it out and showed it to the captain. It was a clever circlet of wrought iron, hinged so it could be opened. Two perforated clips extended out from the circlet. The bosun’s mate explained a rivet would be passed through the holes and pounded so it would not come out.
“Only way to get the irons off is for the armorer to drill the rivets out”, he explained.
Phillips addressed the sweating man at the forge. “Warren, I admire your work. I have it in mind to appoint you ship’s armorer. This will enable you to avoid being driven about from one task to another with the other landsmen. You will also be paid more. What do you think?”
“Sir, Your Honor, I’d be happy to be your armorer.”
“Very well, Mister Warren, I will have you entered as such in our books immediately. Please go on with your work. We will need irons that will fit our current prisoner and at least one other set to restrain a normally sized man.”
Deciding to go below to inspect the prisoner, he was amazed to see his appearance. His face and exposed skin on his body was bloody and lacerated. One eye was closed and the other open just a bit. His hands and feet were bound, with the feet also lashed to a stanchion. He glanced at the Marine guard and asked why the extra bonds.
The private answered, “Sah, Master at Arms, ‘e comes by, an’ ‘Aynes ‘ere kicks ‘im.”
“I see, Private. It appears Haynes has already received some punishment. Do you think he can understand me?”
“Sah, ‘Aynes can ‘ear well enough.”
“Very well, we will give it a try. Haynes, when you put your mark on the ship’s book, you became a member of His Majesty’s Navy, subject to its rules. When you spat on the deck, you put yourself in danger of a dozen lashes. When you sneered at me, you put yourself in danger of a noose. When you struck the Marine sergeant and the corporal you again became subject to the death penalty.”
“Haynes, I do not flog men on my ship any more than necessary. I would prefer not to send you ashore to a court martial to be hung. The sergeant tells me he does not insist on pressing charges himself. You should understand you put your life in your own hands whenever you show your contempt to your superiors. The private tells me you tried to kick the Master at Arms. He is another man who can have you hung. Do you want to have your neck stretched?”
The prisoner turned his head to Phillips and spat a bloody wad of spittle at him, missing his boot by an inch.
“Very well Haynes, I think you have decided your own fate. Private, when one of your mates relieves you, find a sack and tie it over his head. I will not have my men subjected to such treatment.”
*****
Phillips went back to the quarterdeck and found the first lieutenant at the entry port, greeting some new arrivals. Wainright came over with a young man in a bottle green coat and a sturdy middle aged seaman with a queue down his back and a ribbon dangling from his cap with ‘Triumphant’ embroidered on it.
The seaman approached, took off his cap, knuckled his forehead and stood before Phillips. “Sir, Harder, captain of the maintop on Cossack, Cap’n Wilson, sir.”
“I see Harder. What brings you here?”
“Sir, Cap’n Wilson sir, he goes ashore and comes back and says the frigate goes into the dockyard. Crew goes into the receiving ship. He takes me aside and says this brig is fitting out foreign and needs some good seamen.”
“That we do Harder. Did you bring anyone with you?”
“Aye, that I did sir. Eight prime seamen, all able bodied.”
“Well, I am glad to see you and your mates, Harder. If you will stand by, I will have my first officer get you settled in. In the meantime, I see that I have another guest.”
“Aye sir, that is Doctor Fletcher, he was assistant surgeon aboard Cossack.”
Phillips waited for the new surgeon, who approached and doffed his cap. Introducing himself. Phillips asked how he had come to be aboard the post ship Cossack.
Fletcher said he had been serving as a doctor on a large plantation on Barbados, caring for the slaves. Wishing to broaden his horizons he had asked for an appointment aboard a Royal Navy ship and had been gr
anted an Assistant Surgeon’s warrant and appointment to Cossack. Now that she was going into the dockyard for an indefinite period, he needed another ship.
Phillips examined the warrant. “This appears to have been issued by Governor Beckwith in Barbados last year. I am sure this was proper for your appointment aboard Cossack, but here in Portsmouth, I wonder if a warrant from the Sick and Hurt Board might be required?”
‘Sir, Captain Wilson on Cossack thought as long as I do not go ashore in Britain, my warrant from Governor Beckwith will remain valid.”
Phillips thought about the matter. “As I do need a surgeon, I will take you aboard. I presume you do have your instruments and medications.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Phillips saw his first officer had finished with the new seamen from Cossack and called him over. “Mister Wainright, you should know I am taking Doctor Fletcher on board as Assistant Surgeon on the strength of his warrant from Governor Beckwith of Barbados. I may be slapped on the wrist for this, but we do need a surgeon and we must anticipate we will not continue swinging around the anchor much longer.”
“Now we come to the matter of Landsman Haynes. I had hoped to avoid sending him ashore to await court martial, but that is not to be. When I saw him below earlier, he again displayed disrespect for me and kicked our Master at Arms. I want you to meet with all that have been assaulted by the man and draw up charges. I will go over them and sign them when I am satisfied. I really hate to do this, but we cannot take this man on a long voyage at sea with him acting up like this.”
*****
Phillips was pulled ashore with a heavy heart. He knew he was carrying a man’s life in the papers he carried, but had been not been able to find an alternative. Haynes was going to have to stand a court martial and take the consequences.
Entering the admiral’s shore office, he was greeted by the same lamed lieutenant he had met before. He explained his mission and the lieutenant asked to see the papers. Phillips handed him depositions from the various people aboard Alert who had come afoul of the man, from the Marine who had had his musket thrown overboard to his own statement.
The officer whistled. “This man is for the high jump. The admiral will never stand for this. Normally, he is reluctant to accept paperwork of this kind, but I think he must see this.”
Phillips sat outside the room for an hour, waiting to be called. Finally, the clerk ushered him in.
Admiral Curtis was sitting at his desk, with the documents Phillips had brought before him. He looked up and said, “Captain Phillips, I have read over these papers and wonder if you could tell me what is behind them. Why did this man do what he did?”
Phillips went over the events from the initial spitting on the deck, to the events in the mess deck. He assured the admiral that he had given the man every opportunity, but Haynes had refused every chance. He related how the man was now chained to the mess deck in shackles with a biscuit bag over his head because of his constant spitting at those passing by.”
Admiral Curtis pondered. “We have just enough captains in harbor to convene an immediate court. We must get this done soon, as you will be sailing shortly.”
“Sir, I wonder if I might bring up one more difficulty. An assistant surgeon came aboard yesterday from Cossack and asked to join. His warrant comes from the Governor of Barbados. He thinks as long as he does not go ashore, that warrant will remain valid.”
Admiral Curtis said, “I think the man may be whistling in the wind. However, a Commissioner of the Transport Board has an appointment with me this afternoon. They have recently taken the Sick and Hurt people into their fold. We do not want to anger them. I will get his advice on the matter while we are waiting for the court martial proceedings to run their course.”
Landsman Haynes was strapped to a carrying board and lowered into the waiting launch to be transferred to the old liner that was temporarily serving as the port admiral’s flagship. Unrepentant, the man still tried to lash out at anyone passing close by. With his arms and legs lashed to the board and a bag covering his head though, he was unlikely to cause any more harm.
Alert’s orders for the next mission were sent to the flag from the Admiralty. Like his previous trip to the Baltic, he found he would be carrying dispatches to Admiral Saumarez. Admiral Curtis called him to the flag’s great cabin to give him the latest plans.
“Regarding your surgeon, Captain; an official will call on him later this afternoon to discover his qualifications and examine his surgical instruments and medicament supplies. Should these pass muster, his warrant will come before you sail. I told Commissioner Hendricks that surgeons willing to serve in the fleet were a rare breed and we must try not let this man get away.”
“Now then, regarding the court martial. We have several other matters hanging fire that need to be resolved in this court. Your prisoner however, will be the most important case and will be tried first. We will start the proceedings early, so make sure all your people will be on hand.”
“Now, I must warn you the surgeon of my flagship has examined the prisoner and believes he has suffered an undue amount of injuries, almost as if he had been tortured. He was particularly upset about the gag in the fellow’s mouth. Apparently his guards have tied an oak peg between his teeth and the surgeon feels this must be very painful. He warns me that he may feel impelled to discuss this matter with the officer charged with the prisoner’s defense.”
“Sir, unless restrained, whenever the prisoner comes near another person, he tries to bite, kick or spit. The restraints we are using are intended to stop that nonsense.”
“This matter will be discussed in the trial, Captain. We have no need of going over it here.”
Captain Phillips returned to Alert and ordered all who would testify during the case to go over what he intended to say during the preceding and ensure what he had to say was indeed correct.
He called Doctor Fletcher to his cabin and informed him his equipment and medical supplies would be inspected the next day. Fletcher was indeed nervous over the prospect. He admitted purchasing the instruments over a period of time, where ever he could find something at a reasonable price. Many had been purchased in the Caribbean, used and perhaps the quality was not of the best.
“Doctor”, Phillips advised. “It is too late to correct matters now. You must stand or fall with what you have. However, assuming you do obtain your permanent warrant and go to sea with us, you may want to talk to our new armorer. It is possible he can make a few useful tools for you.”
The court proceedings began at the beginning of the forenoon watch, at 8:00, in the great cabin of the flagship. The five post captains serving as judges would sit at tables placed athwart ship before the stern windows. Benches had been placed in the rear for those having business before the court.
Phillips, his first officer and witnesses among the crew took up much of the seating space. The prisoner was brought in with two Royal Marine guards on either side. A young Navy lieutenant marched importantly in front with drawn sword.
The President of the court with the five post captains filed in and took their places at the tables. The commander who would prosecute the case stood by his seat in the front row, beside the Judge Advocate.
The Judge Advocate administered the oath to the officers of the court and the proceedings began. Phillips had been informed he would be the first witness to testify and he should remain in the cabin, while the others were removed until their testimony was needed.
Waiting for the excess people to remove themselves, Phillips was idly watching the prisoner. The shackles the new armorer had fabricated were intended to bolt permanently to the deck, Haynes had been released from them and he had been brought to his court bound with line around his wrists and ankles, as well the bag over his head. Someone on the flag had replaced the line with iron shackles to his hands and feet.
Each circlet of iron around each ankle and wrist was connected to its mate with a length of light chain. His hands were shackl
ed in front of his body and he had a certain range of motion. Having informed the officers involved with the prisoner’s security the details of his conduct aboard Alert, Phillips was surprised at Hayne’s comparative freedom of movement.
At any rate, the man was no longer acting up and the bag had been removed from his head.
Phillips was called forward to testify to the details of the man’s conduct. After undergoing extensive questioning from several captains on the board, he thought he might be sent back to the wardroom, where the witnesses remained when not testifying. While the captains were discussing his testimony, one knocked over a pitcher of water on the table. The pitcher fell onto the deck and shattered. The court president impatiently called for somebody to clear away the debris.
The lieutenant supervising the prisoner’s guards was the junior officer present and thought it his duty to handle the situation. He ordered the two Marine guards to clear away the shards of broken glass and water, while he assumed custody of the prisoner. The Marines leaned their muskets against the table and went forward to see what was required
At that moment, the prisoner shoved the lieutenant aside using the force of his body and slammed his chained fists against the officer’s face. The lieutenant’s sword fell from his hand and with lightning fast reflexes, Haynes snatched it out of the air and took a swing at the officer. The lieutenant received a fearsome slash on the shoulder from the razor sharp blade and fell to the deck.
Every officer present had a sword belted on and some had the presence of mind to draw his blade and attempt to stop the prisoner. Phillips had his own out and intended to run the fellow through to stop him for good.
His Magesty's Brig Alert: A Tim Phillips Novel Page 7