HF - 03 - Mistress of Darkness

by Christopher Nicole

  'I hold no brief for this court,' Robert said. 'I was asked a question and I answered it.'

  'And suppose I told you that I shall put Mrs. Hodge in that box to refute your statement?'

  'Do you presume to call me a liar, sir?' Robert said, his voice like a rumble of distant thunder.

  Corder bit his lip. But clearly he was no coward. 'I merely seek to establish, sir, that your evidence, like so much of the evidence we have heard in this case, is sorely lacking in identifiable facts. But yet I will offer you a fact, to confirm or deny, Mr. Hilton. This young woman you describe as having been under sentence of death by flogging, would you tell the court her name?'

  'Gislane Nicholson,' Robert said.

  'All.' Mr. Corder smiled at the court, as it rustled with comment. 'We have heard that name before. Your young cousin told us of that name but a few moments ago. And in so doing destroyed his own credibility.'

  'By God,' Robert said. 'By God, Corder, if you call me a liar once more I shall come down there and break your head. Mark my words.'

  'Your Lordship,' protested Mr. Corder.

  'Now really, Robert,' said Sir Reginald. ‘I mean, Mr. Hilton. This is a court of law and you will conduct yourself properly.'

  'Let him conduct himself properly,' Robert bellowed. 'He seeks to twist words and impugn facts, by God. Well, let him have these, sir. I know the girl. I sent her to Hodges, and I sent her from Hodges. Aye, chew on that you rumourmongering rascals. I intervened to save her from being flogged to death, and I had her sent to the mainland, to a Dutchman, may God rest her soul. I did it to stop her marrying my cousin, and there's a fact. But I am not here today to discuss Gislane Nicholson.'

  'Really, sir,' Corder protested. 'You are not here to discuss anything. You are here to answer questions.'

  'By God,' Robert shouted. 'I'll discuss what I choose, Corder, and be damned to you. That man ...' his hand flung out, its finger pointing, 'is an utter blackguard. His wife is worse, and in my opinion she should be standing beside him. I'd not have the pair of them in charge of my dogs, much less a parcel of human beings. You ask me whether or not Manton's statement is true? I'd say, sir, that Manton has not recounted the half of it. What is more, sir, you know that as well as I, and every damned man in this courtroom knows it too. Including you gentlemen,' he said to the jury. 'Call yourself planters? By God, you, we, are more than that. We made these islands what they are, and God willing, we shall keep them what they are. But we'll not be helped by scoundrels like Hodge. There are eyes upon us, by God, English eyes, the eyes of Parliament, gentlemen. They'd not trouble us if they can help it. We mean too much to their pockets. But if they are forced to it, why by God they will have to. I know you there, I know the extent of your own criminality. I know it was you gentlemen who mounted an attack upon my coach, who nearly killed my own sister. By God, when I find the actual instigator of that deed I'll have him at the end of my pistol, you may be sure of that.'

  'Your Lordship,' Corder said. 'I must protest.'

  'Oh, hold your miserable tongue,' Robert bellowed. That man is a murderer, and a villain, and a scoundrel. He is a criminal, sir, and we all know that. Turn him off gentlemen. Turn him off, and make sure that the world knows of it, or we shall all be tarred with the same brush.'

  'Your Lordship,' spluttered Mr. Corder.

  'Your Lordship,' said Mr. Malahine. The prosecution rests its case.'

  'The court will rise,' said the clerk.

  Matt rubbed the back of his head. The jury had been out for twelve hours, since eight o'clock of the previous evening, and few of the residents of Charleston had had any sleep. All night the crowds had gathered, on street corners and in bars, and woe betide any Negro, slave or free, found on the streets. Matt and Robert, with Mr. Malahine and Hugh Elliott and Mrs. Elliott, and Mr. and Mrs. Loman, had dined together, and then remained sitting, and talking, over their glasses of brandy. There was much to be considered, much to be appreciated. For the first time in his life, that Matt could recall, Robert had known doubts.

  'You were quite magnificent,' Mrs. Elliott had insisted.

  'Even if decidedly illegal,' her husband had agreed. 'If anything can swing the case in our favour it was your denunciation of Hodge and all who support him.'

  'Aye. A planter,' Robert had said. 'There is a sad business. But the wretch had his minions fire on Sue. By God, I'd like to get my hands on him myself.'

  'I think you may safely leave him to the hangman,' Loman remarked. 'Corder opted to stake his all on prejudice when he decided not to call Janet.'

  'Yet is the jury a planting one,' Matt said. 'Supposing the verdict is adverse?'

  'Ah, well,' Elliott had said. 'It will involve my resignation, for a start. But I have a vessel standing by to carry you and your cousin back to Jamaica. I truly think, however, that my problems will only really start should the verdict be in our favour.'

  And when they had been summoned back to the court, he had taken his leave of them. Matt glanced at Robert, sitting hard-faced at his side, staring at the jury as they filed into the room. For him, more than anyone in the room, there could now be no turning back.

  'Gentlemen of the jury,' said the clerk. 'Are you agreed on a verdict?'

  'We are,' said the foreman.

  The clerk stretched out his hand, and took the slip of paper. The jurymen gazed at the spectators, defiantly, Matt thought. It was difficult to decide whether or not that meant anything.

  The clerk passed the paper up to Sir Reginald Payne, who unfolded it, glanced at it, and then looked again. The rich colour in his face seemed to deepen. Then he raised his head, and looked around the room, as if seeking someone. And not finding him.

  'My Lord?' asked the clerk.

  'Ask them,' Payne muttered. 'Let them speak.'

  'What is that verdict?' asked the clerk. 'We find the prisoner at the bar guilty of murder, as charged.'

  There was a moment of utter silence in the courtroom. Then Hodge shouted. 'You're crazy. You, John Townsend? You, Harry Watts? You ...'

  Noise swelled up in the room and drowned his voice, and indeed everything else. Several men left their seats and ran for the corridor, but the door was suddenly closed, and in front of it stood a squad of red-coated soldiers. And Elliott had appeared on the bench beside Payne.

  'Quiet,' he shouted. 'Quiet. As of this moment, the island of Nevis is placed under martial law. No man will leave this room bearing arms. Swords and pistols may be left in the care of the clerk. Will you proceed, Sir Reginald?'

  'Is that the verdict of you all?' asked the clerk, in sepulchral tones.

  'It is,' said the foreman.

  The noise was slowly subsiding, while Sir Reginald Payne took off his wig, apparently to scratch his head.

  'You'll proceed,' Elliott said. 'And quickly man.'

  The black square was placed on his bare head, and he stared at Hodge.

  'You'll not do it,' Hodge said. 'You cannot. It will mean the end of all planting.'

  'James Hodge,' Sir Reginald said. 'You have been found guilty by a jury of your peers of the crime of murdering one of your slaves, and must now suffer the penalty, which is that you shall be taken from this place to a prison, and thence to a place of execution, and there you shall be hanged by the neck until you are dead.' He paused, and sighed. 'The sentence to be carried out at the discretion of His Excellency the Governor.'

  'Then it shall be done immediately,' Elliott declared. 'Sergeant.'

  More soldiers had filed into the courtroom, and now they surrounded the dock, while the sergeant mounted the steps to dismiss the warders and take charge of Hodge himself.

  "You'll not do it,' Hodge shouted. 'You have no right, sir. You cannot turn a man off the moment he is sentenced. There is no justice.'

  'My care is the preservation of law and order in this colony, Mr. Hodge,' Elliott said. 'Every moment you remain alive threatens that law and order.'

  'I wish to appeal,' Hodge cried. 'I have the right to appeal.'r />
  'Your appeal is denied,' Elliott said. 'You'll remove the prisoner, sergeant. Gentlemen, you'll leave your arms in here, if you please.'

  'No,' Hodge screamed. The soldiers seized his arms, and he struck at them before being restrained. 'You'll not do it,' he yelled. 'You'll not hang a planter.'

  Then he began to scream incoherently, as he was marched to the stairs leading down to the cells, while the room stood and stared, still too stricken with horror to understand what had actually happened.

  'It would be best for us to leave now,' Mr. Malahine whispered to Robert. 'There is that ship, waiting for you. Unless you actually wish to see the execution.'

  Robert glanced at Matt.

  How suddenly flattened Matt felt, how totally lacking in all emotion. It had perhaps taken too long, consumed too much of his life. He knew now he felt only pity. 'No,' he said. 'I have hounded that man to his death, and Corder was more than a little right when he suggested my desire for vengeance was greater than my desire for justice. But I would speak with him, before I leave.'

  'With Hodge?' Robert demanded. 'That is madness. What can you say to him?' He led them to the door, while several members of the crowd began to boo and hiss. 'Bastards. They are a despicable crew, to be sure.'

  The door closed behind them, and they stood in the corridor, while Elliott left the judge's chambers and came towards them. ' 'Tis done,' he said. 'By heaven, but I doubted.'

  'I would like a word with Hodge,' Matt said. The governor stared at him. ‘I have told him it is senseless,' Robert said. 'None the less,' Matt said.

  Elliott shrugged, and called the sergeant of the guard. A moment later Matt was descending the stairs to the cells, where a priest was already standing over the seated prisoner, book in hand. Hodge's head jerked at the footsteps, but he had regained his composure. 'Revenge must be sweet,' he said.

  'Aye,' Matt said. 'I sought revenge. But yet I regret my part in this affair, Mr. Hodge. I have no doubt at all you deserve your fate, for the crimes you have committed on those hundreds of poor black creatures in your care. But I forgive you, for Gislane. Here is my hand.'

  Hodge looked at the outstretched hand, and then spat on it. 'I scarcely need your forgiveness, Hilton. Oh, she was a charmer. I bedded her, Hilton. Every day for the time she was on Hodges. I bedded her, and I made her squirm. Think on that Hilton. I had her not you. And now she's warming the bed of some Dutchman, and dying of the lash and despair, Hilton. Most like she is already dead, or if she is not, then she's nothing but a hag. You'll not see her again, Matt Hilton. You'll never know what I knew. So spare your pity. I give you mine.'

  chapter sixteen

  THE RIGHTS OF MAN

  Captain Halman himself took the tiller of the gig to see Sue and the boys safely ashore. 'Damned foreigners,' he grumbled. 'Begging your pardon, Mistress Huys. But Cap Francois is not a place I often come to. And when you think of the weather...'

  The journey had taken them nearly three weeks, so unfailingly contrary had been the wind.

  'But it is as lovely as they claim.' Sue shaded her eyes, even beneath the broad brim of her hat, to peer at the city. And wonder at her own excitement. She had endeavoured not to come, and resisted both Matt and Robert with all her strength, and had yet submitted. Because she was, after all, nothing but a whore? Or because she could not forget the way Corbeau had looked at her, the words he had whispered in her ear, on the day of his wedding?

  And neither Robert nor Matt even suspected the temptations which were haunting her mind, so bound up were they in their own affairs, male affairs.

  'And so many soldiers, Mama,' Tony shouted, jumping up and down and causing the little boat to rock. 'So many-soldiers.'

  'The lad is right,' Halman muttered, frowning at the docks, which were guarded by at least a company of blue-coated regulars, while more were to be seen beyond. And here was no regiment taking a holiday; every man was armed with musket and bayonet. 'Pray heaven we have not again come to war.'

  'No attempt was made to stop our vessel entering the harbour, Mr. Halman,' Sue pointed out. 'This must be a domestic matter.'

  The boat came into the side of the dock, and one of the military, clearly a non-commissioned officer, stood above them to hail them in French.

  'Ah, speak English, you damned Frenchy,' Halman said. 'How are we to know what you're about?'

  'He no doubt holds the same opinion of you,' Sue said. 'Good day to you, sir,' she said in French. 'We are seeking Mr. Louis Corbeau, of Rio Blanco.'

  The sergeant inspected her, slowly, from hem to hair. 'Corbeau you say, madame? Oh, indeed, come ashore.'

  'I'd best accompany you,' Halman growled.

  'You'd best be on your way back to Jamaica,' Sue recommended. 'This gallant fellow will look after us, I have no doubt.' And indeed the sergeant was snapping his fingers and giving orders to his squad. 'So if your men will place our boxes on the dock...' The boys were already ashore, holding each other's hands and staring with wide eyes at the soldiers they had only previously heard about. Sue shook hands with the captain, and allowed the sergeant to assist her. 'My thanks, Mr. Halman. Bon voyage.'

  'I have sent for the coach, eh?' said the sergeant. 'Rio Blanco is some distance up the coast. But you will need an escort. And then, why, one of my men says he has seen the Corbeau barouche in town this very day. And why not, madame? Everyone is in town today. Such pretty boys.' He ruffled Richard's fair hair, looking at Sue the while to suggest he'd far rather be doing it to her.

  'But what is all the excitement about, sergeant?' Sue asked.

  'Well, madame, today Oge and Chavannes are to be executed.'

  'Oge? Chavannes?'

  The sergeant raised his eyebrows to suggest that if she was worth looking at she was also extraordinarily ill-informed. 'The mulattoes, madame. The rebels.'

  'Rebels? There has been a revolt, in St. Domingue?' Before she could stop herself she burst into laughter.

  The sergeant frowned. 'Madame finds a rebellion amusing?'

  'Oh, no,' Sue explained. 'It is just that I was sent here for my safety.'

  'Ah.' The sergeant nodded, solemnly. 'But indeed, madame, here you will be safe. The rebellion, pouf. We know how to deal with such things. Here is the barouche.'

  The coach with the pink beaked head on its snow-white doors was rumbling on to the wooden planks of the dock, while the pink-and-white liveried Negro driver dragged on the reins, and a short fair-haired white man stepped down. 'Madame?' He frowned at her, and raised his hat. 'Good heavens, you must be Madame Corbeau's sister. Jules Romain, at your service. I am Mr. Corbeau's attorney.'

  'Suzanne Huys, Mr. Romain. And these are my sons, Anthony and Richard.'

  'What splendid fellows. But madame, if only we had known you were coming, we should have been waiting.' He shrugged. 'I can only apologize.'

  'The fault is mine, Mr. Romain. And you are here, are you not?'

  'Oh yes, indeed. Load those boxes, fellow.' He held the door for her to get in. 'For the executions.'

  'The sergeant has been telling me.' Sue gave the soldiers her most dazzling smile as the equipage rumbled back towards the street. 'Some rebellious mulattoes?'

  'Sans culottes, they call themselves,' Romain growled. 'Eager to take advantage of the situation in Paris. Ah, France is fallen on sorry times, madame. These people sent their leaders to this National Assembly which now governs us, and were there promised freedom, and so returned here to seize it when our administration here would not immediately grant their demands.'

  'But the sergeant says the revolt was easily suppressed.'

  'Oh, indeed, madame. They were an undisciplined lot. And now their leaders are to suffer on the wheel. It will be quite a spectacle.'

  The coach was making slow progress as it ploughed through the crowded streets.

  'On the wheel?' Tony asked.'What does that mean, Mama?'

  'It means a man is to die’ Sue said, quietly.

  'His bones will be broken while he still liv
es’ Romain said, smiling at the boy. 'One by one, they will be shattered with an iron bar, until he is nothing better than a jelly.'

  'Ugh’ Richard remarked.

  'I am inclined to agree’ Sue said. 'Could they not just be hanged?'

  'For treason, madame? It is necessary to make an example. And it is wagered that Oge will die like a coward. He has already offered to betray all his compatriots for an easier death. Oh, it will be a sight.' He looked at a gold watch. 'Another two hours.'