Ramage's Trial r-14

by Dudley Pope

  "We will put that question aside for a moment, madam," Goddard said, and went on with the question he thought should finish her business in short order.

  "First would you tell the court all you know about the Calypso's encounter with the Jason, and the voyage of the two ships back to Plymouth."

  "That would take all night," Alexis said, "and anyway you can't really ask me any relevant questions about it because you weren't there. I am very anxious to help the court, but please, admiral -" she smiled sweetly, "- remember that I am but a woman."

  Ramage knew that not a man in the court could forget that, and the six captains who usually sat facing the sternlights, their backs to the witness and the accused, were now twisted round in their chairs, watching Alexis.

  "Why would it take all night to tell us?" Goddard asked patiently. "All the members of the court are experienced naval officers."

  "Yes, I am sure they are," Alexis agreed, "but what Captain Shirley did is beyond the experiences of naval officers, or indeed any sane people."

  Ramage had heard of the expression "a silence you could cut with a knife", but he had never experienced it before. Goddard was one of the last to pull himself together and, red-faced, mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he said: "Madam, you must not say things like that. The deputy judge advocate, as you can see, has to write down everything that is said. I regret that I must order him to delete that whole section."

  "But why?" demanded Alexis. "Just look at him." By now she was standing and she gestured to where Shirley sat in his chair, still staring at the deck. "There you see a madman, a man who orders his own ship to fire a whole broadside at an unsuspecting British ship - no, don't you dare tell me to be silent," she told Goddard. "You weren't there and I was. I saw it all happen. That great puff of smoke was caused by all the Jason's guns firing into the Calypso, which was only sailing up to exchange greetings. What did you say?" she said quietly to Goddard. "You'll have me removed from the court?" She twirled her parasol. "Come, Admiral, this could be very amusing."

  Captain Swinford leaned forward and, first glancing at Goddard to make it clear that he was going to speak to the witness no matter what the admiral might decide, said: "Madam, I am sure the president was speaking metaphorically: no violence will be offered you in this court. Would you please clear up one question which is puzzling myself and my fellow captains gathered round this table, which is how you were there?"

  "Thank you for your reassurance, Captain," Alexis said softly, as though speaking only to Swinford and the captains, her face turned away from an officer who certainly was not a gentleman and who bullied women, "and I am only too pleased to explain.

  "My brother owns a number of merchant ships - thirty-three, unless the French have captured another one recently. From time to time he decides to sail in one of the ships - usually to the West Indies. Occasionally I accompany him- I must admit." she said with a conspiratorial smile, "that I find London society rather boring: the attention of callow young men whether in uniform or not can become extremely tedious, although not as bad perhaps as the clumsy gallantries of politicians which, together with their uncommonly boring talk - always of politics - is rather like overhearing a den of thieves and murderers exchanging gossip about their latest crimes."

  Ramage could see that Goddard could hardly restrain himself from interrupting but Swinford and the other captains were enchanted by this young woman who was giving them a fascinating glimpse of London society and saying with such insouciance what they wanted to hear about politicians.

  "Please go on, madam," Swinford said. "You were telling us about your voyages."

  "Ah yes, my brother Sidney -" she glanced at Goddard and saw that he had at last realized who she was, "- persuaded me to go on this last voyage to the West Indies because we wanted to make sure that our houses in Jamaica and Barbados were not being completely eaten by termites. They are a terrible nuisance, you know, and the houses are old, belonging to - oh, I forget how many 'greats' but to one of our ancestors. My rather strange second name -" she smiled at Jenkins, who bobbed his head, "- comes from the wife of that forebear - he was the leader of the Buccaneers, you know. He had a special rank but I can't remember . . ."

  "That would be Edward Yorke, the Admiral of the Brethren of the Coast," Swinford said.

  "That's him - how clever of you to know," she said delightedly. "He's always referred to as 'Grandpa Ned' in the family, although he's about fifth 'great', perhaps more. Anyway, Sidney persuaded me to go with him in the Emerald and that is how we came to be in the convoy."

  "Could you describe where in the convoy the Emerald was sailing?" Swinford asked, expecting an answer full of feminine vagueness.

  "Oh yes, we were leading the starboard column. You see, Captain Ramage -" she looked coolly at Goddard, "- perhaps I should say 'the prisoner' wanted a really reliable ship in that position, because the whole structure of the convoy depended on her, as you know. He knew my brother and he knew the master my brother employed. So we were leading the starboard column when the Jason approached on the starboard quarter to windward of all of us."

  Swinford stood up and bowed. "Thank you, madam. Clearly you have a considerable knowledge of sea life!"

  Alexis gave Swinford a warm smile before turning to Goddard as she remarked: "I have crossed the Atlantic half a dozen times, the first when I was about ten years old - which means all in wartime - but this is the first time I have seen a captain in the Royal Navy go mad."

  Only Alexis could have lulled them (or Goddard, anyway) like that, with a stream of what seemed innocent chatter, amusing them and almost flirting with them, and intriguing them with the fact she knew about the sea and had made several Atlantic voyages. Then, having established herself as a knowledgeable and credible witness, she once again hammered home that vital point: Shirley was mad.

  Goddard looked up warily, like a ferret emerging from a rabbit's burrow, and seemed to sniff the wind. The last time he had told Jenkins to strike out part of Miss Yorke's evidence he had unwittingly caught his head in the snare and nearly wrenched it off. Instead of saying anything he made a small scribbling gesture to Jenkins.

  "To whom are you waving, Admiral?" Alexis inquired icily. "That seems to be more like an obscene gesture made by a street urchin ..."

  "No, no, I assure you, madam, it was quite routine."

  "Then why is that clerk crossing out what I have just said?"

  "Madam, I am sure -"

  "Don't argue, Admiral, just go down and look at - what do you call them, the minutes - for yourself."

  "Well, madam, I am afraid -"

  "And well you might be," Alexis said scathingly. "You are censoring my evidence." She held up her hand as he went to speak. "Admiral, I know nothing of court procedure, and therefore nothing of court-martial procedure but I recognize censorship when Isee it. That is the second time you have censored my evidence. No, be quiet, and listen. There are things going on in this trial which I do not understand and I do not like." She looked across at Swinford and Royce. "I do not think I am alone in my doubts. However, I do not depend upon your favour for promotion; if the Board of Admiralty is used only for ironing clothes or chopped up for kindling I do not care. But justice is a different matter. I am no Portia but don't forget Grandpa Ned, Admiral. He was establishing Jamaica when your forebears, judging from your behaviour here, were still poaching conies and making breeches out of moleskins. Please call a boat: I am leaving this ship."

  Magnificent, Ramage murmured, and he heard Lieutenant Hill sitting behind him give a sigh of admiration. Both Swinford and Royce were standing and within a few moments the other ten captains were on their feet, a bewildered Goddard still sitting, his head cradled in his arms. Suddenly he was aware of the scraping of chairs and looked up to find everyone else in the great cabin on their feet, with even the Marine sentry at the door standing firmly to attention.

  "Good day to you gentlemen," Alexis said to the court and swept out of the cabin, making a
n exit, Ramage was sure, which might have been equalled at St James's Palace but never surpassed.

  The captains then sat down and Ramage realized that they were all looking at Swinford, who coughed to attract Goddard's attention.

  "Sir," he said respectfully, "I have to request that you clear the court because there are certain points that some members would like to discuss."

  "Ah yes, indeed, Captain Swinford. But it is late in the day and I have a statement which I have to make in open court, so I'll do that first. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the Coronation, and the day after both you Captain Swinford, and you Captain Royce, have to take your ships to the dockyard. On Friday, two other ships are to be drydocked. With two different captains absent on successive days, I propose adjourning the court until the usual time next Monday morning. Having made that announcement, I now formally adjourn the court, except that the court will continue in closed session.

  "Provost Marshal," he said sourly and unnecessarily, "remove the prisoner. He can remain a prisoner at large on board his own ship."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Ramage sat at his desk with Southwick as usual in the armchair beside it (in deference to his age, not his rank, since he was only a warrant officer among commission officers) and Aitken and Wagstaffe on the settee.

  They had returned from the Salvador del Mundo an hour earlier, had a brief meal after removing their swords and changing into older uniforms, and then met in the cabin to talk about the trial.

  Ramage found himself in the unexpected role of an apologist for Admiral Goddard, because constantly he had to remind himself that he was not still a lieutenant among lieutenants who were able to abuse admirals among themselves. As a post-captain he had to maintain a semblance of discipline and respect - ironical, when he thought of the officer concerned.

  "What is the court considering, eh?" Southwick exclaimed. "Those captains will never stand up to the admiral, you can be sure of that."

  "Captain Swinford - and Captain Royce, too - seem to me to have had enough of him," Ramage said mildly.

  "Sir, do you think they're going to blast their futures on your behalf? It's a big jump from commanding a 74-gun ship to marching around on a three-decker, and when Their Lordships choose the names, anyone about whom there is the slightest gossip might as well resign his commission and buy a half-share in a privateer."

  "Don't forget that when we first served under him, we knew him as Commodore Nelson and many senior officers disliked him. Now he's Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson . . ." Ramage said.

  "Aye, and even more senior officers dislike him."

  "Yes, but the Board of Admiralty were more persuaded by Cape St Vincent, the Nile and Copenhagen," Ramage said.

  "If you'll excuse me, sir, fiddlesticks. He was pushed forward (quite rightly) by Lord St Vincent. Don't forget the row among the admirals, especially Admiral Mann, when as a very junior rear-admiral he was given the Mediterranean Fleet. No one else could win a victory like the Nile, but after that those who disliked him now hate him because they've a few quarts of jealousy to add to the brew."

  Aitken said: "I think you're wrong Southwick. Obviously your general criticism is correct, but there are exceptions. Lord Nelson is one; Rear-Admiral Goddard might be another -"

  "Not in the same breath!" exclaimed Southwick. "Please!"

  Aitken grinned and explained: "I'm talking about the exceptions, who can be heroes or scoundrels. Seems to me that here we have one of each. Just as Lord St Vincent stuck by an unpopular commodore and put him in the way of promotion, someone has stuck close to Rear-Admiral Goddard, although I don't know who -"

  "The Court," Ramage interposed quietly.

  "So we have the King against us," Aitken mused.

  "All this talk doesn't get the evidence down in the minutes," Wagstaffe pointed out.

  "We were talking about what influence those twelve captains will have," Ramage reminded him.

  "I'll put a little money on Captain Swinford," Southwick said. "He was a good man when he commanded the Canopus and he was standing up to the admiral at times."

  "My oath!" exclaimed Aitken heatedly, "none of them were really standing up to him. We still have only one mention of the broadside in the minutes and not the slightest hint of Captain Shirley's madness despite Miss Yorke. In the minutes, remember that. Nor anything about the Jason's officers being locked up in their cabins. In fact I don't know what the devil was left in the minutes."

  "Don't worry about the minutes," Ramage said calmly, "minutes are for commanders-in-chief and the Admiralty to read after the trial - which means after the verdict. No matter what anyone might say and however much presidents might order stricken out, minutes are only useful as records, and for appeals. No matter what happens, I shan't appeal."

  "So the only thing that matters is the verdict, 'Guilty' or 'Not Guilty'. And that verdict is going to be decided by those twelve captains."

  At that moment Kenton arrived at the door to announce that Mr Yorke's boat was within hail, having approached in the lee of a 74-gun ship and out of sight, and he would be on board in a couple of minutes.

  The moment Sidney Yorke walked into the cabin, preceded by the lugubrious Marine sentry's announcement, Ramage knew that something had happened: the man's face was drawn and the tropical tan now turned the skin an unhealthy yellow.

  The young shipowner greeted the four men in the cabin and then nodded towards the coach. Ramage stood up and led Yorke into the smaller cabin, shutting the door behind them.

  "It's Alexis," Yorke said, and for a moment Ramage was startled because he thought Yorke had already said that, and then realized he had imagined it.

  "What happened?"

  What could happen at an inn? Robbers, sudden illness, the building catching fire - perhaps their boat capsized: the boatmen plying for hire were -

  "When I got back to the King's Arms expecting to find her there after giving her evidence, I was handed this note by the innkeeper."

  He gave Ramage a single sheet of paper which had been folded and sealed with a wafer.

  "My dear Brother," it said. "I should have talked about this with you but I was afraid you would try to dissuade me. If Nicholas is left at the mercy of that scoundrel Goddard, he will be found guilty, and I understand he would then have to be sentenced to death because the court has no alternative. I am therefore going to London because there lies authority. I shall be well along the road by the time you read this - your affectionate sister . . ."

  "What 'authority' do you think she has in mind?" Ramage asked.

  Yorke shrugged his shoulders. "She was very angry with Goddard - I gather he threatened to have her thrown out of the court. Most unwise of him to get athwart Alexis's hawse: even I don't!"

  "Is it all right if the others know?" Ramage asked, gesturing towards the three men waiting the other side of the door.

  "Of course! I just wanted to tell you first."

  They went back into the cabin and before Ramage sat down he told the three officers: "Miss Yorke has gone to London on my behalf."

  A startled Southwick said: "What is she going to do?"

  "We're not at all sure, but from the way she dealt with Goddard today, I can imagine her coach and four turning into Downing Street!"

  "Don't laugh," Sidney Yorke said. "She knows Henry Addington very well: in fact the last time she saw him was at Number Ten a few months after the signing of the Treaty of Amiens. She gave him quite a fright: she told him exactly what she thought about anyone who signed such a treaty with Bonaparte. He took it very well, I must say. Knowing what sycophants he usually has round him, that was probably the first time he'd heard the truth for a long time!"

  "Could she really be going to see the prime minister?" an awed Wagstaffe asked.

  Sidney Yorke pulled a face. "My sister knows an extraordinary number of people and she has a way of saying the most outrageous things without causing offence. In fact some people seem to like it."

  "Should think so," Sou
thwick muttered, "particularly if the way she settled the admiral's hash is anything to go by."

  "I'm sorry I missed that," Yorke said, "but I had to wait in that damned cabin in case I was wanted as a witness."

  "Well, she was magnificent," Ramage said. "One moment an empress and the next a tigress. Poor Goddard never knew whether he was going to be frozen by a regal stare or ripped by a hidden claw!"

  "The courts sit again next Monday," Southwick said. "She'll have barely reached London by then. And then she has to see people."

  "I inquired at the King's Arms," Yorke said. "Five days to London in a coach and four. Alexis hired her own coach - the postchaise costs tenpence a mile, with tips and turnpikes. She'd have saved money by buying her own coach!"

  "There's the new telegraph from the Admiralty to Portsmouth," Aitken said. "They say they can get a message to the Admiralty and a reply in thirty minutes."

  "Aye, a very brief message, providing there is no fog between the signal stations, all nine of them. Ten, counting the Admiralty itself," Southwick said.

  "Is that true - half an hour?" Yorke asked.

  Southwick nodded. "Yes, and the Admiralty is extending it along the coast to Plymouth. This telegraphic apparatus is a very simple thing to operate."

  "And I'll bet that Southwick knows where every one of the stations to Portsmouth is built," Ramage said, "and plans to walk along the line of them from London, and then on to Plymouth and back, as soon as he's retired!"

  Southwick looked puzzled. "How did you know that, sir? Not walk, though; I mean to do it on horseback."

  "I guessed," Ramage said. "You once told me you had just copied out a list of where the stations were. Why would you want such a list, if not to follow the line of them?"

  As Southwick nodded in agreement, Yorke said: "Where on earth are they?"

  Like a child anxiously waiting to recite his poem at a party and once started unable to stop, Southwick said proudly: "From the Admiralty to Chelsea, Putney, Cabbage Hill, Netley Heath, Hascombe, Blackdown, Beacon Hill, Portsdown and then into Portsmouth.