Under Enemy Colors (53 page)

The young officer took his place, and of the men who had so far spoken, he appeared the most composed despite the fact that he was the youngest. Hayden wondered if Archer’s lack of commitment to his chosen career played some part in this. As the other officers had done, Archer read from a written account of the story of the battle on the quarterdeck, which Hayden had heard more than once from Hawthorne, but which saddened him every time.

When he had finished, Archer delivered his account into the hands of the judge-advocate and stood calmly awaiting any questions.

“Pray, Mr Archer, you have made no mention of the numbers of mutineers who besieged you on the quarterdeck.”

“It was dark, sir, and difficult to be certain. The first party I saw on the gangway was perhaps a dozen or fourteen men, but there were scuffles going on forward at that time, and some men were climbing aloft who had no business to be doing so; I assume they were mutineers as well. Perhaps twenty or twenty-four men on the deck, all under arms. Most of the watch did little or nothing to resist them, sir. Some might even have joined with the mutineers, so we were greatly outnumbered as we were only fifteen, by my count, three of that number boys.”

“How many of these fifteen were killed or wounded, Mr Archer?”

“Mr Bentley of the marines was killed, as were Cooper and Joyce. Two of the three boys were killed—one thrown overboard by a mutineer for no reason that I know, sir. Almost everyone else was wounded in some way, large or small.”

“And what part did you play in the defence of the quarterdeck?”

“Bentley was killed almost immediately, sir, and I took up his musket and, with Mr Hawthorne, directed the attack as best we could. I spent all the powder Bentley possessed, and then it was agreed we should surrender, for the ship seemed lost and we were all certainly to be murdered were we to resist any longer.”

“Were you then mistreated as the others have told, Mr Archer?”

“Not so much, sir, though the quartermaster’s mate, Elliot, was badly ballyragged, sir.”

“Mr Archer, would you look over the lists your captain has submitted and tell us if you know of any man there who you believe is improperly accused, or guilty of mutiny who has not been named.”

The lists were given to Archer, who read through them slowly. While he remained so engaged there was a small disturbance at the door and a moment later one of the marine guards delivered a wrapped package to Mr Barthe, whose surprise upon opening it could not be hidden.

Bless Worth and his nimble fingers, Hayden thought.

“Well, sir,” Archer said after a moment, “I agree with Mr Hayden that Aldrich was not one of the mutineers and that they only desisted from the flogging due to the great esteem felt for Aldrich, not because he was their leader. There are several men here who are named as mutineers whom I cannot confirm or deny, for I saw them neither under arms nor resisting the mutineers. Bates, the cook’s mate, was not under arms but was seen to do Stuckey’s bidding, though I thought this might have been out of fear, as he was both young and of a timid disposition, though in his defence, he is a small boy. Otherwise this list appears to be correct, sir.”

“Mr Archer,” Gardner asked, “did the unrest among the crew of the
Themis
predate Mr Hayden taking up his position?”

“I was not aware that there was any material change in the mood of the crew under Mr Hayden, sir.”

“But you have not answered my question, Lieutenant. Let me phrase it differently. Precisely when did the unrest begin among the
Themis
’ people?”

Archer looked somewhat embarrassed. “I was not aware of any unrest until the night of the mutiny, sir.”

Gardner looked both annoyed and astounded. “Mr Archer, a man was murdered and another beaten near to death, and you tell me that you saw no signs of unrest among your crew? What of the incidents at Plymouth and Brest? Did you not think these out of the ordinary, and did they not put you on your guard?”

Archer’s next words came from a noticeably dry mouth. “At Plymouth, sir, the men did all go to their stations once Mr Hayden took the matter in hand. And at Brest I believed the matter to be a brawl between two groups of men who did not much care for one another, sir—nothing more. Captain Hart ordered some of the men to be flogged and I thought that would see the end of it.”

One of the captains interrupted here. “These men who were flogged, were they later to be found among the mutineers?”

“Some were; some were not.”

As there were no more questions for the less-than-forthcoming lieutenant, Archer was dismissed, though it was clear that certain of the captains on the panel were not satisfied with his answers.

Barthe was next called, and came huffing up to take his place, scarlet-faced and, Hayden recognized by his manner, irritable. The former lieutenant, who had stood in this same place once before only to see his career ruined, looked at once apprehensive and resentful. Barthe began by reading his prepared account, a story now familiar to everyone, of the gunroom defence and later bullying on the deck. Barthe, who was liked by the crew, had not been mistreated.

“Mr Barthe, I must begin by asking about the missing ship’s log.” Duncan looked most displeased as he said this. “This would seem to indicate serious neglect of duty. How do you explain it?”

“The log was stolen from my cabin, sir, but has just been returned to me unharmed.” Barthe raised the disputed volume and then delivered it into the hands of the judge-advocate.

Hayden carefully watched the face of Landry as this was announced. It was one of the more satisfying moments of his naval career. The lieutenant slumped in his chair, making weak little motions with his hands and opening his mouth as though to speak or catch his breath. For his part, Hart did not seem to grasp the significance of this moment. But then realization came over the captain—every occasion upon which he refused to engage the enemy would be enumerated in Mr Barthe’s log, no matter how circumspect the language. Every incidence of negligence of duty. But perhaps even more shocking to the two officers was the realization that someone had known where to find the book and had retrieved it. If this came out in the court-martial there would be no saving them. For a moment Hart could not take his eyes from the offending volume, as though he considered dashing forward and snatching it away.

“Mr Barthe,” one of the captains asked, “how is it that a log-book—a document of singular importance, as you well know—could go missing? And how is it that we find it returned at this moment?”

“As was reported, sir, the log had been removed from my cabin without my knowledge or permission. As to its return, I have only had it delivered to me this instant without explanation. I know not from where it came.”

This produced a reaction among the captains, none of whom appeared impressed with these goings-on.

“This is most irregular, Mr Barthe,” Bainsbridge observed.

“And I am deeply sorry for it, sir, but I cannot offer a better explanation.”

The captains glanced from one to the other.

“Let us hope that such an explanation will come to be known,” the admiral said. “For now let us proceed. We return again to the issues regarding which we have quizzed your fellow officers. Were you in any way suspicious that there was, among the crew of the
Themis
, a mutinous or disaffected element?”

“I was.” Barthe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his manner more combative.

“If you please, Mr Barthe, would you explain why you believed that.”

“When we were anchored in Plymouth Sound in the summer, having returned from a two-month cruise, there were rumours aboard ship that the crew would refuse to sail with Captain Hart and that they would send a petition to the Port Admiral requesting the captain’s removal.”

This received a strong reaction among both the panel of captains and the onlookers.

“This is a very disputatious allegation, Mr Barthe,” Bainsbridge said immediately. “How came you to know of this ‘rumour’?”

“It was reported to me by one of the marines, sir—Davidson.”

“Was this man not killed in defence of the ship?”

“He was, sir.”

“Did he tell you how he had knowledge of this petition, Mr Barthe?” Gardner asked.

“He was friendly with many of the hands, sir, and I had the impression that he was one of the organizers of the petition.”

“Did you report this to the first lieutenant?”

“The first lieutenant had quit the service, sir. I spoke of it to Mr Landry and certain officers, but we agreed we would say nothing unless we could learn more.”

“So when the captain returned you did not report this, nor did you report it to the First Lieutenant Hayden when he joined the ship?”

Bathe glanced Hayden’s way, then drew in a quick breath. “No, sir.”

“And why did you not, Mr Barthe?”

“It was only an unsubstantiated rumour. When the captain returned, the crew sailed with only a little grumbling, sir, so it seemed the crisis had passed, and I did not tell Lieutenant Hayden because he was new to the ship and did not then know the crew well enough to deal with such a problem.”

“Were you told why the crew would take this drastic step of petitioning the Port Admiral to have Captain Hart removed?”

“Because the crew believed Captain Hart to be a tyrant, sir, and because they also believed he was shy.”

“Shy, sir?” Gardner said, looking up at Barthe over a pair of round spectacles. “Captain Hart? Why on earth would they believe that?”

“Admiral Duncan,” one of the captains interrupted before Barthe could speak, “are we to allow the character of Captain Sir Josiah Hart to be traduced by the repetition of rumours? Captain Hart’s record of service is unblemished, and many a good fighting captain has had crews grumble about his ‘tyranny’ who only wished to run a crack ship and carry the war to the enemy. I dare say, we have all had the same grumbling upon our own lower decks. It is apparent, though, from the accounts of these officers that they kept much from the captain that would have allowed him to deal with these mutineers before they infected the crew with their radical ideals. Had Mr Barthe and Mr Hayden the common sense to keep their captain properly informed, these unfortunate events would surely have been avoided, preserving many a life. I dare say, Captain Hart has been ill served in this matter.”

The ship’s bell chimed, and the admiral glanced out the stern gallery window, perhaps surprised by how much of the day had slipped away.

“Let us end for this day,” the admiral said, “and return to Mr Barthe tomorrow with clear minds.”

The row back to the
Themis
, beneath a sullen and threatening sky, passed in silence, the officers misliking to speak of this matter before the oarsmen. They collected in the gunroom immediately upon reaching the
Themis
, all of them but Mr Barthe partaking of port. The steward and servants were sent off, and an agitated Barthe paced forth and back, three steps, before the rudder-stock.

“Well, it had to be said,” he blustered, sensing the mood of his fellows. “The hands were talking mutiny long before we left for our cruise. Now it will all come out. Sir Josiah Hart! Knighted for notorious shyness!”

“Calm yourself, Mr Barthe,” Griffiths cautioned. The doctor appeared very concerned, his sombre manner even more subdued than usual. “Although you are to be commended for your honesty, I believe Hart and Landry did a great deal to shift the blame for the mutiny to the shoulders of Mr Hayden and yourself. I am not sure what will happen on the morrow, for surely when two groups are so opposed in their understanding of events, the captains of the panel will be forced to find the truth by instinct. Not the best situation, for I fear it will be natural for them to believe one of their own.”

“Certainly the captains can see that
Sir
Josiah Faint-Hart is trying to preserve his now-great reputation?” Hawthorne pronounced with disgust.

“But why should Mr Hayden and Mr Barthe be doing any less?” the doctor countered. “If Admiral Duncan decides to include Mr Hayden among those being tried for the loss of the
Themis
, I have no doubt that things will go badly for you both.” He glanced from Barthe to Hayden. “It is clear that Hart has several supporters on the panel, and I dare say that even Admiral Duncan is not beyond the displeasure of Mrs Hart’s family.”

“I, for one, was thoroughly deceived by Hart’s lawyer,” Hawthorne noted. “I truly believed that Hart would stand up and claim there was no foreknowledge of the crew’s mutinous inclination. Clearly he had conspired with Hart to so throw us off.”

“If you had seen the look of dismay on Hart’s barrister’s face when the good captain began to blame Mr Hayden,” Wickham observed, “you would change your thoughts, I think. No, shifting responsibility for the crew’s disaffection was entirely Hart’s idea, I’m quite sure.”

It was Hayden’s turn to rise and pace. “Not for a moment did I think, as we rowed to the admiral’s ship, that I could be in the least danger.” His stomach turned over, and a little sour wine erupted into his mouth, swallowed quickly down.

Griffiths regarded him evenly. “I warned you, Mr Hayden, of the threats Hart made against you while he was under my care. He said he would do for you when we returned to England.”