Under Enemy Colours

by Sean Thomas Russell

  Landry raised his eyes from his written account, and gazed up at the captains, his customary look of a dog about to be whipped even more pronounced here.

  “Mr Landry,” Bainsbridge began, “were you satisfied with the conduct of all the men you had with you in the gunroom? None shirked in their resistance to the mutineers?”

  “Quite the opposite, sir. They all fought with great courage and energy. We killed a goodly number of the mutineers and I believe we would have been able to hold the gunroom for some time longer had we not run out of powder. Williams and Hobson were particularly courageous, as was the marine corporal, David son.”

  “Can you tell us who was with you in the gunroom during this fight?”

  “Mr Barthe, the sailing master; David son, whom I have just mentioned; Dr Griffiths; and the midshipmen Hobson, Madison, and Albert Williams, who was killed. Oh, and Mr Muhlhauser, who was from the Ordnance Board.”

  “Eight of you in total?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gardner did not seem much interested in this line of enquiry and broke in. “You have stated that Able Seaman Aldrich came on deck and ordered the flogging stopped. Can you recall his precise words?”

  “Not exactly, sir. I believe he said that they should flog no more of the ship’s people, and certainly flog no one on his account.”

  “But did he order them to do it, or did he desire them to do it?” Gardner asked.

  Landry looked uncomfortable and glanced at Sir Hubert, who sat stony-faced. “I suppose it was somewhere in between, sir.”

  “Did he implore them to flog no more of the ship’s people, then?”

  “Yes, sir, I should say that ‘implore’ is what he did.”

  “And then he collapsed; is that correct?”

  “It is.”

  “Are you of the opinion that Aldrich was one of the leaders of the mutiny or that he was even involved in the mutiny, and if so, why do you hold such an opinion?”

  “I suppose I held this opinion because Bill Stuckey would not allow Aldrich to come away in the boats, when the middies asked for him. Stuckey said that Aldrich was one of them.”

  “But Aldrich himself was never asked if he wished to come away in the boats?”

  “Not to my knowledge, sir.”

  “Then it is impossible to know how he would have answered, is it not?”

  “That is true, sir.”

  Admiral Duncan, who had remained silent until now, looked up from his clasped hands. “Pray tell us, Mr Landry, what was your part in the defence of the gunroom?”

  Landry shifted from one foot to the other. “We had not enough firearms to go around, sir, so I loaded guns for the men who were firing.”

  “Very commendable. Who fired the guns?”

  “David son, Williams, and Hobson, to begin, sir, and then Mr Barthe and Dr Griffiths.”

  “I see. Was this how Mr Williams lost his young life and the marine corporal suffered the same end?”

  “It was, sir.”

  “So firing the weapons would seem to have been the more dangerous task?”

  Landry nodded.

  “Permit me to ask, Lieutenant Landry, why you, as senior officer, were not at the forefront of this defence? Would this not be the usual place for an officer, rather than, say, a midshipman or the ship’s surgeon?”

  Landry had the decency to appear embarrassed by this line of questioning. “It was simply how things arranged themselves. I was busy collecting the furniture to make a barricade thick enough that we would not all be killed, and when that was done the guns were already in the hands of others. I then did what I could to aid the men firing. When the mutineers broke into the gunroom I took up my cutlass and fought alongside the others. I believe the men who were in the gunroom will say that I did my duty and did not shirk, sir.”

  “Permit me to ask, Mr Landry,” Bainsbridge began, “if you felt the disaffection among the crew of the Themis existed before Mr Hayden came aboard or did the discord that later led to mutiny begin after Lieutenant Hayden took up his position?”

  Landry pulled his tiny chin down into his collar, looking neither left nor right. “I should say it began during the weeks that Mr Hayden had command of the ship in Plymouth, sir.”

  Hayden experienced such a flash of outrage that he broke a sweat. And he’d thought Landry had, finally, made a decision to find his manhood!

  “If you please, Mr Landry,” Admiral Duncan broke in, “would you speak up so that those of us no longer in the bloom of youth might hear?”

  “My apologies, sir. I believe the discontentment began after Mr Hayden took control of the ship at Plymouth.”

  There ensued much muttering and shifting among the crew of the Themis.

  “If I may say so, Admiral Duncan,” Gardner said peevishly, “Mr Hayden is not on trial here. I believe this is merely a tactic to shift attention from the gentlemen who are actually being court-martialled.”

  “It remains to be seen if Lieutenant Hayden will be subject to the same charges, Captain Gardner,” Duncan countered, to the obvious satisfaction of Bainsbridge and several other captains.

  Gardner only glanced up at the deckhead, then back to Landry. “Then let me ask you this, Mr Landry—how do you explain the murder of a member of your crew some weeks before Mr Hayden came aboard, and then the beating of the foretop-man the very day Lieutenant Hayden took up his position?”

  “The murder was a personal affair, regrettable, but such things are not unheard of in the service. As to the beating, we do not know who was responsible, sir.”

  “Mr Hayden has stated that the two unfortunate men were involved in circulating a petition and attempting to convince the crew not to sail. It is Mr Hayden’s opinion that the future mutineers perpetrated both these attacks.”

  “That is Mr Hayden’s opinion, sir, but I believe otherwise.”

  For a moment the panel seemed stymied, but then McLeod pivoted slightly toward the second lieutenant. “Did you believe, Mr Landry,” he asked, “that there existed among your crew people with mutinous intent?”

  Landry hesitated.

  “Answer ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Mr Landry,” the admiral ordered.

  “No, sir, I did not.”

  “Even after the troubles with the crew when quitting Plymouth and later at Brest?” Gardner asked quickly.

  “Yes, sir, even after those troubles.”

  “But it was you who then reported that Mr Aldrich had been reading pamphlets that espoused revolutionary ideals to the crew?”

  “It was, sir.”

  “Certainly this concerned you, lest you would not have reported it?”

  “It did concern me, sir.”

  “How did you learn of this, Mr Landry?”

  “I don’t remember, sir.”

  “A man was flogged upon your informing on him, Mr Landry; surely you remember how you learned of his transgression?”

  “I believe Mr Hayden told me, sir.”

  “Mr Hayden claimed he did not tell you, sir.”

  Landry hesitated.

  “Mr Landry … ?”

  “I believe Mr Hayden was mistaken in this, sir.”

  “Ah. Was Mr Hayden often forgetful of conversations, Mr Landry?”

  “I don’t believe he was, sir, but only in this case.”

  “And what became of the pamphlets?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Mr Hayden claimed to have taken them from Mr Wickham, but they were later found to be missing from Mr Hayden’s trunk where he had placed them.”

  “Perhaps they disappeared to the same place as the master’s log?”

  “I know nothing of that, sir.”

  The panel of captains fell unhappily silent. Landry’s evidence seemed a mass of contradictions. Hayden found it difficult to read the reaction of the captains on the panel, all of whom were gentlemen well used to keeping their own counsel and guarding their emotions from their crews.

  “If there are no more questions at present, I shall allow
Mr Landry to step down for the time being?”

  The captains all agreed they had nothing more to ask.

  “Thank you, Mr Landry,” Duncan said. “You may resume your place, though you might yet be recalled to answer questions, and you shall be allowed a chance to speak in your own defence, should that be necessary. Let us hear from Lieutenant Archer.”

  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 every one 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 every one, 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 refu
se 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’?”