Not One Shred of Decency

by Bob Brown

  CHAPTER 31

  Secretary of Navy Upshur summoned Commodore Perry to Washington for an urgent meeting. Upshur was not in a mood to make introductory remarks about family or weather. “Perry, I’m being besieged from every quarter. I plan to make an important decision, but I wanted to talk to you before I make it official.”

  “New York reporters haven’t given me any peace either. In my dreams I see our training ship sailing over the horizon.”

  “Sailing hell, look closer, it’s sinking on the horizon! We’ve got to get past this mutiny incident before we can think about training ships. You know what I see in my dreams? I see John Spencer, for he’s on my back day and night. The man is livid. He accepted his son’s death calmly at first, when he thought Philip was culpable. Then I gave him Mackenzie’s summary report and he exploded right before my eyes. Now he thinks Philip was strung up for no more reason than being a prankster. His wife’s beside herself, and bedridden over her son’s death, or so he says. Did you bring Mackenzie’s complete report?”

  “I’ve asked him every day and he says he’s working on it. He doesn’t appreciate the seriousness . . . I take that back, I think he does understand how serious this is and I believe he’s enjoying the uproar.”

  “The hell you say! Is he loony?”

  “I’ve known him for years, but I’ve never seen this side of him before.”

  “He must not have read Spencer’s article in the Advertiser?”

  “Did Spencer really write that?” Perry asked.

  “Oh he denies it, of course, but who else had access to Mackenzie’s summary report? Spencer wrote it, no doubt about that.”

  “I did give Mackenzie the article, told him I thought Spencer had written it, and watched him read it. He seemed amused. After reading it, he laughed sarcastically and said, ‘I sense from reading between the lines that Mr. Spencer doesn’t care overly much for me.’ Then he tossed the paper back on my desk and made some remark about how it might snow soon.”

  “He is loony! I’ve supported him so far because I always try to support my men, but his case is weak. Do you think he might have hanged those men willfully?”

  “No, I believe he thinks he did the right thing, that we’ll back him up, and Secretary Spencer can go to hell.” Perry pulls out his pipe and tobacco, got a stern sideways glance from Upshur, and put them back in his pocket.

  Upshur said, “Well, it can’t be that simple. Spencer wants him hanging from the nearest tree. I think he’s trying to have Mackenzie brought before a civilian court. The only way I can think of to stop that is by ordering a court-martial. If I order that, the civil courts will probably not take his case and that is one way to calm these waters. What do you think?”

  “Oh lord.”

  “Don’t you agree?”

  “What if he’s found guilty?”

  “Then he might hang, but the trial will be in our domain and he’ll be judged by men who understand the unique responsibilities of a sea captain. We would have some influence over who is seated on the court and then he’ll have a better chance to clear his name.”

  “If Mackenzie writes a good report, do you think Spencer will back off?”

  “Does a bulldog relax his bite?”

  Perry said, “My son, Matthew, was one of the officers who recommended execution. He’s convinced that Mackenzie had no other choice. I also believe Mackenzie did what he had to do, and I’ll stand behind him, but I am amazed at his cavalier attitude about it.”

  “You know him better than I. Could he just be putting up a bold front?”

  “No, I’ve served with him and have never seen him rattled. He’s the calmest man under fire I’ve ever known. That’s the reason I don’t think he panicked during the mutiny attack. You could drive a stake through his heart and I don’t think he’d feel it.”

  “My God, this is just dandy, isn’t it? Spencer’s specialty is inflicting pain and Mackenzie’s specialty is not feeling pain. It’s too bad we can’t lock them in a room together and see who knocks first to come out.”

  Perry grimaced. “I hate to see a trial. Mackenzie’s reputation may be permanently damaged, even it he wins, and our training ship will be scuttled with him.”

  “Forget the damn training ship, Perry. Now, unless you can make a strong case against my ordering a court-martial, then I’m going to issue that order in the morning.”

  Perry was silent for a minute and then asked a question about what the charges would be and that led to more discussions about who might serve on the court. He never actually agreed with Upshur, but talked in the vein of wanting more details.

  After an hour, they broke for noon mess and then returned to Upshur’s office for still more discussions. Upshur called in two officers who were knowledgeable about the legal aspects of court-martial. He decided to postpone making any announcements to give the officers time to recommend the proper charges. When Upshur and Perry were alone again, Upshur said, “I’ll tell Spencer what we’re planning to do and maybe he’ll do his voodoo on someone else for a while. I need the rest.”

  Perry said, “Let’s hope this is the right course of action.”

  Upshur replied, “You may tell Mackenzie that I’m taking full responsibility for ordering a court-martial and that you might have chosen differently.”

  “No, I’ll explain to him how this was necessary and that I support your decision.”

  “Thanks for coming to Washington, and give my regards to your family.”

  Perry got up slowly, pressed his shoulders back, clinched his fist, and expanded his chest to enjoy the momentary pleasure it created for his back muscles. “I will start back to New York tonight. I’ll keep you informed.”

  **********

  The first thing Perry did when he arrived at his New York office was send for Mackenzie.”

  Mackenzie appeared to be in a cheerful mood. “Good morning Commodore. Do you have a big Christmas planned?”

  “Yes, Captain Mackenzie. I have two sons home at the same time for a change. Have a seat.” He laid his pipe in an ashtray. “I just returned last night from Washington. I had a lengthy conversation with Secretary Upshur. Mr. Spencer is constantly harassing him about the Somers mutiny.”

  “Over his son’s hanging?”

  “Yes. Did you bring your final report on the mutiny?”

  “I’m working on it, but I’ve been busy with more important matters. I plan to have the Somers ready for the next training cruise by the middle of January.”

  “Don’t count on leaving that soon. I must inform you that Secretary Upshur is preparing charges against you and will most surely have you brought before a court-martial.”

  “What possible charges could he bring against me?”

  “The charges will have to be for the murder of three men. I’m sorry Captain, but due to tremendous public outcry and pressure from Secretary Spencer, Upshur thinks, and I agree, that a court-martial is the only way to clear your name.”

  “Ha! One swift blow from Mr. Spencer’s hammer and my rock solid supporters crumble to dust and blow away.”

  “You still have your supporters. I still support you.”

  “You said you agreed with Upshur.”

  “Let me explain. Spencer is determined to have you tried in a civilian court where he has great influence. By Upshur ordering a court-martial, the civil court judges will defer to the Naval courts and you will plead your case before officers who will be sympathetic with the responsibilities of a sea captain. Trust me, this is the best option.”

  “The best option is no trial at all. I might enjoy a good trial for the sport of it, but this is so senseless. I don’t grieve for Midshipman Spencer. He wasn’t worth two tears in a teacup. He would’ve slaughtered us in a minute, but now his papa wants me to shoulder the blame for his own failure to raise that boy right.”

  “I believe you acted courageously, but unfortunately many people believe you were hasty and could’ve brought those three men back for trial.
A court-martial will clear up everyone’s doubts and Secretary Spencer will have to live with the results.”

  “And I might die with the results.”

  “That won’t happen after we’ve shown that your decisions were necessary.”

  “I didn’t believe I would be blamed for doing my duty either. Will my loyal supporters be there to help me up the gallows steps?”

  “I am sorry about the way this has turned out, but I promise to support you in every way that I can.”

  “All right, the script is being written by others, so I’ll just wallow in the limelight the best that I can.”

  “We’ll find the right person to represent you.”

  “No sir, it’s my life and reputation at stake. No one can represent me as well as I can.”

  “That’s not wise. You need legal advice.”

  “I’ll find legal advice if I need it.”

  “Think it over. You should let someone represent you.”

  “No, I’ll defend myself, but I will let someone sit with me to give me advice if I need it.”

  “Good, I’ll get the names of a few good men for you to select from.”

  They sat silent for a time, then Mackenzie looked at Perry and smiled faintly, “You and Secretary Upshur are right. It’ll be a pleasure to present my case and Secretary Spencer will soon find that he wrote his slander on a boomerang.”

  Perry’s response was a look of puzzlement. “My friend, I advise you to approach this with utmost caution. Some things will be hard to explain.”

  “Don’t worry, Perry, it’s perilous seas that make life exciting.”

  CHAPTER 32

  James Fenimore Cooper, author of The Last of the Mohicans and many other popular titles, became a sailor on a merchant ship at 17 and, after about two years, he was commissioned midshipman in the navy. He served three years in his country’s service but seldom left the New York Harbor. A very independent thinker by nature, he did not care about or listen to anyone’s views on anything. After all, another mere mortal’s view would hardly be noticeable when placed beside his brilliance. After writing numerous articles on the U. S. Navy, he considered himself a self-appointed expert on matters of the sea. He felt that the book would be closed on the Somers mutiny incident after he chiseled his words in stone. This he proceeded to do. He visited the Somers and gathered reams of material from many sources. At the end of his 80 page scholarly document, The Affair of the Somers, Cooper concluded that Captain Mackenzie was pure and simply a “cold-blooded murderer.”

  In January, while Mackenzie was in New York preparing for his trial, someone left Cooper’s review on Kate Mackenzie’s front step. After reading it, she was reduced to tears and despair to think anyone could believe such evil things about her spouse, the man she idolized. She determined to regain her composure and never tell her husband that she had read the review.

  Kate’s next days were spent worrying about what the future held for her husband and her children. As a result of the controversy swirling around her husband, Kate had learned some things about human relations. Some friends remained extremely loyal and were more solicitous than ever and often hovered over her so close that she wished they would go home. Some appeared uncomfortable in her presence, at loss for even small talk, and usually insisted they could not tarry for they must attend to other pressing matters. And as human nature dictates, there were some who were careful to avoid any contact, flipping their heads about in obvious contrived attempts to appear that something very important had caught their attention, like a hitching post, for example.

  Prominent people from every corner of the country seized the opportunity to publish their views on the mutiny. Many of them supported Mackenzie in the strongest terms, but no anonymous visitor left those reports on Kate’s front step. Other than Cooper’s review, which she could not accept, she learned more about the mutiny from newspaper reports, vicious as some were, than she did from talking to her husband. He dismissed her inquires with, “It’s nothing for you to worry about.” or he would laugh and say, “Don’t pay attention to the news stories. They write whatever strikes their fancy without regard for accuracy. It’ll all pass soon enough.” Once she expressed sympathy for the Spencer family and he remarked, “When you plant a persimmon seed, don’t expect an apple tree.”

  When Kate was depressed, which was most of the time now, she felt better when Mackenzie came home. He was more cheerful and buoyant than she had ever known him to be. How could things be so bad if he felt so good?

  **********

  Spencer worked tirelessly to build a credible case to have Mackenzie tried in a civil court. He and his attorneys were frustrated in their efforts to find creditable witnesses from the Somers’ crew. In Spencer’s mind all of the officers had allied with the devil to support Mackenzie. Without at least one of these men, his chances of successfully prosecuting Mackenzie for murder were greatly reduced.

  Spencer respected women, but he believed that their presence in the hallowed chambers of a courtroom was somehow improper. In addition women are irrational, too sensitive, and prone to emotional outburst. In desperation he had decided to talk to Small’s mother and Cromwell’s wife.

  Audrey Small carefully laid the dress she was making on the table and stretched her back when she stood up. She rubbed watery eyes as she went to see who was knocking at the door. As a seamstress she desperately needed eyeglasses but lacked the funds for such luxuries.

  Although the man standing before her was of average height, she had to look up at him because she was so short. She shielded her eyes and squinted as the contrast of the bright sky behind Spencer transformed him into a silhouette. “If you’re another newspaper reporter, I’ve said all I’m going to say, and I’m too busy to talk.”

  “Madam, I’m John Spencer, the father of Midshipman Philip Spencer.”

  “Oh,” she said sharply, then hesitated. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Spencer.”

  “And I’m sorry for your loss too, Mrs. Small. May I come in and talk with you for a few minutes?”

  “Just what will talk accomplish now, Mr. Spencer?”

  “It is important and private. May I come in?”

  “I have a dress to finish by this evening.”

  Spencer tried to hide his impatience. “You won’t regret it Mrs. Small.”

  She stepped back and allowed him to enter. She did not invite him to sit down.

  Spencer continued, “Justice is what we must have now, Mrs. Small. I’m prepared to devote my energies and resources to deliver Captain Mackenzie to the gallows for the unconscionable murder of our sons…”

  “Stop right there, Mr. Spencer. You’re a mite late, Sir. Where were you when your son was learning his evil ways? How dare you talk of justice now, after your son caused a noose to be placed around my poor boy’s neck? My boy wasn’t perfect, and he had a weakness for the spirits, but Bless the Lord above, he summoned the gumption to confess his sins and die like a man. The only one of the three, I might add.”

  Spencer clamped his teeth tight and swelled up. “Hush, woman. Don’t slander my son. You know nothing of the facts. Mackenzie hanged three men to satisfy his lust for slaughter and them without a soul to fend off his cold blooded intentions. They died defenseless and with not one solitary word said on their behalf.”

  “Captain Mackenzie served the Navy and our flag with honor. That your son and mine put him to the test is to our everlasting shame. I’ve made my peace with the Lord over this. You should too, Mr. Spencer.”

  “Madam, you have been severely misinformed in this matter. I advise you to leave such matters for learned men of the law. You must reconsider. I came here to elicit your support for a fair trial in a civil court with a jury of peers. Then you’ll understand about the flag and honor.”

  “What the Lord expects of me is clear, Mr. Spencer. I accept the good and the bad of my son, God bless his soul. I labor from sun up until sundown just to keep a pittance of bread on my table. You do what you
feel you must, Sir. Now I have to finish the dress I’m making. Good day, Mr. Spencer.” Audrey Small turned toward her worktable then looked over her shoulder. “Please tell Mrs. Spencer that I’m sorry about her son.” She then sat down at her worktable and picked up the dress.

  Spencer did not believe in manhandling women. Otherwise he might have forcibly turned her around and informed her that he had not dismissed her yet. One thing was obvious though, Mrs. Small would not be an ally for his cause. He opened the door and walked briskly out, leaving the door wide open.

  Audrey got up and shut the door. She returned to her work table, picked up the dress and began sewing furiously. After a minute, she laid the dress down and rested her head down on her arm. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed quietly. After a bit, she raised her head, blotted her eyes on her sleeve, and began sewing again.

  **********

  Spencer’s unproductive visit with Audrey Small reinforced his convictions about women, but he would visit Cromwell’s wife anyway. She could not possibly be more illogical than Mrs. Small.

  On this day in Brooklyn, the sky was dark. Gusts of wind swirled between the buildings. Gray cobblestones marked traffic trails that meandered through dirty snow. The closer he got to Mrs. Cromwell’s address, the more uninviting the neighborhood became. With the harbor only a block away, fish smells mingled with raw sewer odors. A man curled into a ball was huddled in a doorway. Spencer speculated that he was a homeless drunk, but his head was pressed between his knees and only an old woolly cap was visible. He could have been asleep, or simply cold and trying to stay warm, or drunk and unconscious — or dead. Very likely there was no one to care which.