by Dudley Pope
Alexis explained how she had sensed that the youth - his name was Edward Blaxton, son of one of the Members of Parliament for Maidstone - wanted to tell someone about some awful experience he had undergone, but she had decided she would hear the story more fully if she let him tell it bit by bit, as the days went by during the journey to London. And that was what happened. He would mention one episode when they stopped briefly for dinner, she would hear of a later one when the coach stopped to change horses and there was a quarter of an hour's quiet. An earlier episode might be related while they had a hurried supper as the horses were changed and the coach axles greased.
The journey itself, Alexis admitted, became a nightmare: soon she could remember no other life than being confined inside a coach and breathing the smell of mildew and old leather. Occasionally she and Edward would try to clean it up, because eating a snack amid all the jolting meant that crumbs and pieces of cheese and cold meat would slip down under the leather seats.
Gradually the coach made its way towards London: eventually Exeter, Honiton, Axminster, Bridport, Dorchester, Blandford, Salisbury, Andover and Basingstoke became memories, places where horses had been changed, surly or bowing and scraping innkeepers served or refused meals, where a horse went lame or an axle ran hot. Then the place names became more associated with London than the West Country - she particularly remembered a good dinner at Bagshot, where they also changed horses, with a good road on to Sunningdale. Then Staines and another change of horses, and on to Heston and another change at Brentford. By then, as they approached Westminster, she knew everything that had happened on board the Jason and she had made a dangerous decision: she had told Midshipman Blaxton the reason why she was hurrying to London, and he had immediately volunteered his father's help. His father, it seemed, also knew Addington well and had a London house. She had left Blaxton at his home in Berkeley Square, with him promising to bring his father to Palace Street as soon as possible.
"I had to risk upsetting your father," she told Ramage, "but I needed somewhere as a headquarters. I could have used our own house, but that seemed to be wasting time: I needed to talk with your father and at the same time have somewhere to meet young Blaxton's father. And of course, Palace Street is so close to the Admiralty and Parliament."
She gave a nervous laugh. "To be honest, by now I was frightened to death at what I'd done. I wasn't at all worried until we reached Hyde Park Corner, but when Edward left the coach in Berkeley Square, I suddenly felt very lonely, and I knew that if I opened up our own house I'd just sit in my bedroom and weep. So although I didn't know your parents, I decided that if I was going to weep I'd sooner do it in their company."
"Were they very frightening?" Ramage was curious about the impression they made on a stranger.
"Frightening? My goodness, if I'd been their daughter they couldn't have made me more welcome, even though I must have looked like a street woman who hadn't changed her clothes for days. I hadn't since leaving Plymouth, of course, and I was probably wild-eyed. I was certainly incoherent when your butler - a delightful old man whose spectacles kept sliding down his nose - opened the door. I could only ask for 'the Admiral', but your mother heard me, and all I could say to her was 'Nicholas', but that was enough."
Alexis described how the Earl had taken her into his study and she had poured out an almost incoherent description of Rear-Admiral Goddard's behaviour at the trial. At this point the Earl had become angry, she said, because he had just received a letter from Nicholas telling him to refrain from interfering. "That letter hurt him: I think you must have written tactlessly."
She then told Ramage's parents how she had decided to come to London to get help. The Earl had asked very bluntly, she said, whether or not Nicholas thought he had a chance of being acquitted, and she told him that it was Nicholas's acceptance of defeat which had started her off on the road to London.
"'Defeat' is pitching it a bit strong," Sidney protested but Ramage shook his head.
"I don't know about you," he admitted, "but I was feeling defeated. I couldn't - still can't, for that matter - see a way of getting round Goddard, and only two or three of the captains seemed prepared to argue over all that deleted evidence. Three votes out of twelve means an almost unanimous verdict of guilty, particularly since the junior captains vote first."
"The junior vote first?" Alexis was puzzled.
"When all the evidence has been heard and the prosecution and defence have stated their cases," Ramage explained, "the president of the court (after it has been cleared of everyone except the members) asks each member whether or not he considers the accused is guilty or not. He asks the most junior captain first, and then the next most junior, and so on. The theory is that the juniors give their opinions without being influenced by the seniors, but he'd be a mutton-headed officer who reached the end of a trial without seeing or guessing his seniors' views."
"Well," Alexis continued, "your father thought you seemed to feel defeated, and so did I and," she added with a grim laugh, "the opinions of the two of us carried a lot of weight in Palace Street.
"Then the fireworks started. Your father had been fairly calm until then: your mother could control him, in other words. But when I told him young Blaxton's story he swore and swore. I must say that as soon as your mother reproved him - she was concerned for my young ears - he changed to Italian, which I don't speak, but even then his meanings were quite clear since I read Latin."
She described how by then the room was beginning to spin because she was so tired, and the Countess had insisted that she had some sleep. In fact she slept for nine hours and when she woke and washed she rushed downstairs in a panic - to find that the Earl, Sarah's father the Marquis of Rockley, and Sir James Blaxton, with the young midshipman, had already been along to the Admiralty and waited on Earl St Vincent.
"Your father says the First Lord is dour, the sort of man who is miserly with words. Lord St Vincent made it quite clear he could not interfere with the court-martial, apart from delaying it for a week, to give us time to discuss it, but what he could do was make sure that all the legitimate evidence - your father says he laid great stress on that phrase 'legitimate evidence' - should be heard and recorded in the minutes."
Yorke said bitterly: "How can that be done with Goddard sitting there?"
"Wait a moment, Sidney," she said. "It seems that the First Lord is a worldly man and he acted as though there was no point in sending orders to the port admiral here in Plymouth. The inference was (although Lord St Vincent did not put it into words, of course) that Goddard probably influenced him. All that was needed, the First Lord said, was someone in authority making sure that the trial was conducted properly, and that is why he delayed it a week."
Yorke groaned. "You don't mean to say that after all your efforts, you left it like that and came back here?"
She nodded and Ramage guessed that Sidney Yorke had underestimated his sister. Perhaps brothers always did because the important impressions were made during childhood. But Sidney was not only underestimating his sister, he was underestimating the Earl of Blazey, the Marquis and Sir James Blaxton. And come to that, the Countess of Blazey as well.
"Sidney, there are times when I could shake you." The exasperation showed in Alexis's voice. "It seems to me that this man Goddard has bewitched you. Well, he hasn't bewitched me; he's just made me very angry. And he's had the same effect on Nicholas's parents, the Marquis and Sir James Blaxton - and perhaps Earl St Vincent, but I wasn't present."
She rearranged her hair, a womanly gesture that Ramage found quite beguiling.
"So this is what has been arranged. By chance one of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty (Nicholas's father says he's one of the officers most highly regarded by Earl St Vincent) was at Portsmouth. He is Captain John Markham, son of the Archbishop of York. Do you know him, Nicholas?"
Ramage shook his head. "Only by sight and reputation: he's a well respected officer. It's not often captains are made sea lords, and
Earl St Vincent neither suffers fools gladly nor plays favourites. He must have advanced Markham because he is competent."
"Good. Well, Captain Markham was in Portsmouth on some Admiralty business, and the First Lord immediately wrote to him and sent the letter to Portsmouth in the night bag - apparently the messenger leaves in the evening and gets to Portsmouth early next day. Captain Markham was told to get to Plymouth by any means he chose, but he had to be on board the Salvador del Mundo by half past eight next Monday - that's tomorrow morning - and sit as the First Lord's observer at your trial."
Ramage nodded, scarcely able to believe his ears. "That's all we need," he muttered. "Just a fair hearing." He rubbed the scars on his brow. "Just a fair hearing," he repeated. "No more, and no less."
"You're going to get that," Alexis said. "And I've brought Midshipman Blaxton back with me: he's staying at the King's Arms. I've told him to be waiting at the North Corner in the Dockyard at four o'clock, when you'll send a boat for him. You can talk to him and he'll be ready to give evidence tomorrow. Oh yes. Lord St Vincent has told Captain Markham not to wear uniform. I gather that Rear-Admiral Goddard does not know him by sight, so he's unlikely to recognize him sitting among the spectators in court, and that's so much the better, as far as Lord St Vincent is concerned."
"Dinner," Sidney Yorke said. "Nicholas, you are the host and my sister looks exhausted."
"I am too sleepy to eat," Alexis said. "Can I sleep here for an hour or two while you dine, then I can go back with Sidney? I'd like to be here to introduce young Blaxton."
Ramage went to the door and told the Marine sentry to pass the word for the captain's steward, and then he went through to the bed place. The cabin in which he slept was tiny and his bed was the usual cot, a long, open-top box fitted into what was in effect a large hammock which was suspended from the deck beams. The box was fitted with a mattress, and he checked that the sheets were clean.
"Two blankets - will they be enough?"
"Plenty - I'm too sleepy to feel the cold. Wake me when my Mr Blaxton arrives."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rear-Admiral Goddard looked at each of the captains seated round the table and noted that there were many more spectators sitting in the chairs and forms at the back of the cabin - among them that wretched young woman who had made such a scene the day he adjourned the court. Jenkins was sitting behind his pile of reference books and papers. He saw that Captain Shirley was sitting in the prosecutor's chair and, as usual, staring fixedly at the deck - like, he thought unexpectedly, a man who had dropped a golden guinea and just seen it roll down a crack between two planks. A seam, he corrected himself.
This should be the last day of the trial: Shirley had to make the closing statement for the prosecution; then Ramage had to make his for the defence. Clear the court and let these twelve dunderheads talk about it all, and then, with their verdict returned, twist the sword round so that it pointed to the door, and have Ramage brought back in ...
At last he felt cheerful. Swinford, Royce and Huggins had made a lot of trouble at that last session, after the court had been cleared. Fussing about what should be recorded in the minutes and what should not: they were like a trio of virgins pleading for their honour. But they had eventually submitted. A hint that there were many more captains on the Post List than ships for them to command had been enough: they seemed suddenly to be able to understand the position of unemployed virgins . . .
Goddard waved cheerfully to Jenkins. "Have the prisoner brought in."
Lieutenant Hill led Ramage to his chair, and when Ramage, after bowing politely to the court, took his seat, Hill sat down behind him.
Goddard spoke the preliminary words declaring the court in session and was just about to call on Captain Shirley to begin his statement when he heard a chair scrape and turned to see Ramage on his feet.
"Well?" Goddard asked coldly. "What now?"
"I have two more witnesses to call before closing my defence, sir," Ramage said politely.
Goddard raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise. "I thought you'd already called your last witness, that young lady. You made a rather melodramatic gesture of crossing out all the other names on your list. Since you crossed out the names, the court is satisfied that it has heard all the witnesses you requested. Jenkins, my understanding of it is correct, is it not? You have no outstanding witnesses waiting to give evidence for Captain Ramage?"
"Indeed not, sir," Jenkins said unctuously.
Ramage walked the length of the table and put a sheet of paper on the table in front of Jenkins. "Two fresh witnesses," he said.
Without looking down, Jenkins waited for Goddard who said, before Ramage returned to his seat: "Too late, far too late. A trial would drag on for a month if the court allowed the defence to keep on producing witnesses. Captain Ramage should know," he added in a patronizing voice, "that that is the reason why the deputy judge advocate writes to the accused before the trial to ask for a complete list of defence witnesses."
Without sitting down, Ramage said: "With respect, sir, there is nothing in the court-martial statutes that forbids the calling of extra witnesses should further evidence - or witnesses, for that matter -become available."
"I am the president of the court," Goddard said heavily, "and the court rules that you have had your chance to call the witnesses you requested."
"But I am requesting two more, so - with respect - that ruling is hardly fair."
"I've already explained to you," Goddard said angrily. "If you forget to put witnesses on your list, it's no good you coming along a fortnight later and making additions. You are overruled, and that's that."
Goddard was surprised that Ramage did not sit down. Instead he turned to the spectators, and Goddard saw a man nod to him, whereupon Ramage turned back to face the court.
"Sir," Ramage said politely, "I must with great respect ask you to reconsider your ruling on my request for two more witnesses."
"You're wasting the court's time," Goddard snapped. "Sit down: we now have to hear the prosecution."
Ramage remained standing, his eyes fixed on Goddard. "With your permission, sir, I would like you to hear the opinion of the gentleman sitting in the second row of spectators, the third chair from the far end."
"Ramage, you strain the court's patience. We were very considerate when that young lady gave evidence; it is sheer impertinence for you to ask the court to listen to some stranger's opinion on a point of law. I presume that's what you intended."
"I suggest you let the gentleman speak for himself," Ramage said.
"I'll do no such thing!" Goddard shouted.
"I'll introduce him then," said Ramage. "The gentleman is one of my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, Captain Markham."
Goddard sat wide-eyed for a full minute, clearly not fully able to comprehend what Ramage had said. Captain Swinford leaned over and whispered to him, pointing at Captain Markham, who was now standing.
Suddenly Goddard pulled himself together. "Captain Markham!" he exclaimed. "All these years in the King's service and I have never had the pleasure of meeting you! Please come over here!"
Goddard's fawning manner had no effect on Markham, who walked up to within a couple of yards of the table - far enough away. Ramage noticed, that Goddard could not attempt to shake his hand.
"Markham," he introduced himself brusquely. "I'm here by virtue of orders from Lord St Vincent. Apparently the prisoner wants my opinion on the validity of his request for extra witnesses because new evidence has become available since he submitted his first list." He spoke slowly, glancing at Jenkins, who hurriedly began writing down the words. "It is not a point on which I need give an opinion. I suggest, Admiral Goddard, that you consult the deputy judge advocate - he is there to advise you on points of law and regulations."
With that Markham turned and went back to his seat, leaving Goddard like a small boy who had just had his hand slapped in front of visitors.
"Ah, Mr Jenkins, of course it wa
s remiss of me not to ask you," Goddard said. "Are you familiar with this point?"
"Sir, it has arisen before and the ruling is that whether the request is from the defence or from the prosecution, it should be granted - providing the witnesses are available."
"You heard that, Ramage? Are these witnesses available?"
"Yes, sir," Ramage said. "Mr Jenkins has the list: could the first one be called?"
"Of course, of course!" Goddard said, his voice now friendly and hinting that Ramage had offended him by doubting his intentions.
Ramage looked towards the deputy judge advocate, who was now staring at Ramage's list like a rabbit paralysed by a stoat's stare. Finally he stood up with a muttered: "I think you should see this, sir," and walked to the head of the table, putting the list in front of Goddard.
The rear-admiral read the two names and glanced sideways to where Markham was sitting. Then, with a show of impatience he returned the list to Jenkins and said loudly: "The defence is entitled to witnesses. Call the first one!"
Jenkins scurried back to his chair, put the list down as though it had suddenly become red-hot and in little more than a whisper said: "Call Captain William Shirley ..."
There was a gasp in the court as though half the people present had suddenly been jabbed in the ribs by an elbow. Shirley suddenly sat upright and then, as he saw Jenkins coming towards him with the Bible, stood up.
"There's no need to admininster the oath," Goddard snapped. "After all, he is the prosecutor."
