A Flag of Truce Read online

‘So would you say, Kemp, that Pearce, as a newly recruited volunteer, turned into a troublemaker?’

  There was almost gratitude from Kemp for having the matter being put to him so succinctly, and he oozed insincerity in his positive response. Devenow said much the same as Kemp, though in an inarticulate mumble that made his evidence hard to understand, so he was quickly got rid of.

  ‘Call Cornelius Gherson.’

  He had dressed for the occasion. In his new role as Ralph Barclay’s clerk, he was free to come and go from the ship as he pleased, once his duties were complete. Gone was the checked shirt and rolled-up ducks which he had worn aboard HMS Leander. He had money to spend from his gambling profits as well as his letter writing for the illiterate, and he was in a port were folk of quality, who had come to Toulon as refugees, were having to dispose of their goods and chattels at any price offered to survive. He now wore fine linen underneath a well-made coat, stout breeches, white silk stockings and shoes with real silver buckles. His hat already off as he entered the cabin, he executed a proper bow to the judges, sweeping that shiny tricorn across his chest, and showing an excellent head of near white, blond hair that had been expertly barbered. He looked so much the gentleman that Ralph Barclay resolved to examine his accounts as soon as he returned to his ship.

  ‘Mr Gherson, you were recruited on the same night as the men named in Lieutenant Pearce’s complaint.’

  ‘I was, sir.’

  ‘A volunteer?’ asked Pigot.

  ‘No, sir, I came to the service through an accident.’

  ‘Explain to the court, please, what you mean by that.’

  The smile was engaging and designed to be, the slight brush of the hand over his attractive features used to denote both reluctance and modesty. ‘I was engaged in a prank, sir,’ he replied, addressing the President directly, ‘showing off to a lady on London Bridge, balancing on the parapet, when I lost my footing.’

  Emily recalled him that day at Sheerness, because he had on nothing but a shirt to cover his nakedness. She had never thought on it before, but seeing he had been engaged in his new task, and would be in regular contact with her husband, it suddenly became a matter of interest to her to know the true circumstances of his arrival. She had no doubt he was lying, and no doubt either that of all those who had gone before him, he was likely to be the most accomplished. She could imagine many a woman finding him handsome, for if he had fine features, somehow there was an air of corruption about them, as if he was in fact too gilded a youth. Paris instead of Hector.

  ‘It could be said to be ill-fortune, yet I landed right by one of Captain Barclay’s boats, and stout hands grasped me and hauled me in, saving my life, for I would have drowned for certain in such a strong current as that which races through the arches of London’s bridges.’

  ‘Quite,’ Pigot said impatiently, his face conveying the fact that he thought Gherson to be over-embellishing.

  ‘As I say,’ Gherson continued, not the least bit put off by Pigot’s attitude. ‘I would not be here now. So I was taken aboard with the others, fed and clothed and asked if I would like to volunteer.’

  ‘Which you did?’

  ‘Not immediately, for I had a lot to leave behind. A lady for whom I harboured some affection, a position of some trust to an elderly but kind gentleman. In short, prospects.’

  Pigot seemed to cut across him again. He knew, if no one else present did, that Gherson was indeed gilding it. ‘What changed your mind.’

  ‘Why, John Pearce.’

  Pigot exhaled a great quantity of air as he barked. ‘Pearce!’ He then turned to the judges and gave them that same meaningful look he had been practising for days.

  ‘Why yes, John Pearce had volunteered, and he said it would be a fine thing if I did so too. He was full of talk of adventure, of exotic climes, perhaps the South Seas, and the money to be made from taking enemy ships. He invited me to join his mess and showed me much warmth.’

  One or two heads moved at that statement; with a handsome youth like this fellow, warmth could only mean one thing.

  ‘So I found myself persuaded, and went with Pearce to the then First Lieutenant and signed my name.’

  ‘You were not coerced.’

  The handsome face clouded over, and his easy manner was replaced by an unpleasant pout. ‘I have to tell you, sir, that the notion is alien to me. Coercion would only make me stubborn. I am biddable, but not one to be bullied into anything.’

  ‘The court,’ Pigot said gravely, ‘may find it hard to accept that a man who has since made such a fuss was the instrument of your joining the service.’

  ‘Which makes doubly galling what happened next.’

  Pigot did not like to see Gherson pout with displeasure. It made him look weak, yet there was no way to stop the fellow. ‘And that was?’

  ‘A complete volte-face.’ Gherson paused, so that those present could admire that touch of French, an indication that he was as educated as he now looked. ‘Within hours he was at me again to say that I had been forced to serve, that I had been taken from some riverside tavern by violence. Naturally, I refused to be so duplicitous, and we became, I have to tell you, mortal enemies from that moment on.’

  ‘Did you observe Pearce seeking to persuade others to the course he had proposed to you?’

  ‘I did, and it gives me no pleasure to say that he had the ear of several, turning them from happy tars into malcontents.’

  ‘No further questions, sir,’ Pigot said, with a very satisfied air.

  Birdutt stood up, which surprised and displeased his opposite number; Pigot was sure he had got everything to be had out of Gherson.

  ‘Mr Gherson, you are now, I believe, no longer a common seaman?’

  Damn the man thought Ralph Barclay, what is he at? He looked to Pigot whose face was clouded with fury.

  ‘No sir. Captain Barclay, once he found I was serving on HMS Leander, took it upon himself, knowing my skills, to appoint me as his clerk.’

  ‘Can I ask you, Mr Gherson, how you came to be on Leander?’

  ‘An unforeseeable set of circumstances. I was part of the prize crew that took a merchant vessel called the Lady Harrington back to England. We were come upon in soundings by another naval vessel, HMS Griffin, and since a goodly number of the original crew were still aboard, the captain of that vessel took the men from Captain Barclay’s ship into his own, he being short-handed.’

  ‘You were, in effect, pressed.’

  ‘Pearce saw it as so, I did not.’

  ‘Mr Gherson, I put it to you that you have not been entirely honest with the court.’

  The babble that created had the President shouting ‘Order.’ Gherson looked confused; indeed there was a hint of fear in his countenance. Ralph Barclay sat stony-faced, while Pigot was looking at Birdutt as though he would like to kill him.

  ‘I put it to you that, in fact, you succumbed to John Pearce’s blandishments, that you became, like him, a malcontent, and that Captain Barclay despatched you back to England to get rid of you.’

  ‘Sir, I…’

  ‘The truth, Mr Gherson,’ insisted Birdutt.

  The restoration of his composure was quick, for Gherson had a brain quite capable of spinning out the consequences of his own words. Suddenly he looked crestfallen, and then he replied in a voice that was nothing like that which he had employed before, being soft and embarrassed.

  ‘I am forced to admit, sir, that I fell for Pearce’s line, that I forgot my duty to my king and my own signature. Captain Barclay, as you say, took a chance to get out of his ship everyone who had fallen for the notions that Pearce had planted in their minds. Though it was never stated, I think he did not want aboard any man who was not willing to serve.’

  ‘Can I ask you, now you have admitted to your error, what was Pearce’s motive?’

  ‘I doubt he had one, sir, other than to cause trouble. He seemed to relish that above all other things. When we were pressed into the Griffin I was still under his s
pell, but his influence waned and I came to my senses. He is a weathervane, sir. I was one for a while, but I am no longer such now.’

  ‘Yet, you will have heard he was elevated to his present rank by the express orders of King George. You were present at the engagement which so impressed His Majesty, were you not?’ Gherson nodded, head down; this was not going where he wanted. ‘Did he deserve such an unusual amount of distinction?’

  Gherson suddenly looked up, his eyes bright. ‘I think he has taken much credit due to others, sir. I was not alone in advising him of the course of action he subsequently employed. The captain of HMS Griffin was hors de combat, collective decisions were taken for which Pearce subsequently took all the acclaim, took what was a joint action and made it his alone. So, sir, the answer is no. I do not believe he merits his elevation. The king, may God bless and preserve him, was duped.’

  ‘No further questions, sir.’

  Pigot called his final witness, the accused. Ralph Barclay had prepared a long and, he thought, convincing account of his actions, a testimony that would incline the court in his favour, but was aware that Emily was behind him, knew that she would hear every word. He could not tell his version of events with her eyes boring into his shoulder blades. So he squared those shoulders, and said,

  ‘Sir, I am the captain of HMS Brilliant. I personally commanded the party that night we were out seeking volunteers. If some violence was used I was not aware of it, but such ignorance does not excuse me. My commission gives me many things, but it also gives me responsibility. You have heard from others their version of events and I feel I can add little but this. That whatever the court decides, it is on my shoulders the verdict should fall. With command goes the responsibility of a ship’s captain and I will not shrink from that.’

  Pigot, who had a whole sheaf of questions to ask, looked dumfounded. He barked his next words. ‘Mr Birdutt.’

  The old buffoon looked at Ralph Barclay with his wet eyes, and said. ‘I see no further point in questions, sir, I feel the case has been fully examined and to interrogate Captain Barclay would only make more uncomfortable to him what must be an extremely unpleasant affair.’

  ‘Very well,’ said the President, ‘you may make your closing arguments.’

  When Birdutt did so, anyone listening would have been hard put to know if he was acting as prosecutor or defender, so gentle was his tone. Every charge was larded with caveats, each point he made qualified by doubts, so that when Pigot rose to make his address, the job had nearly been done for him.

  ‘Sir, on the night in question, Captain Barclay entrusted a task to a young man, who was not up to it. Yet this is the same young fellow who, within a week, would act on the enemy shore in a way to shame the heroes of antiquity. In short, sir, what may seem over-confidence in the young man’s abilities proved to be an underestimation of his qualities as a budding officer in the King’s Navy, a blessing, given that more senior members of the crew were either lost or badly wounded.’

  Toby Burns, now sitting at the side of the court with Coyle, Kemp, Devenow and Gherson, had the good grace to blush, though he kept his eye fixed hard on the five judges and away from his aunt.

  ‘So,’ Pigot continued, ‘if Captain Barclay is guilty of anything it is of placing too much trust in one so young. In the dark, he could not know of the lad’s errors of navigation, nor, since he did not himself enter the tavern called the Pelican, could he see if violence, which I am sure he expressly forbade, was being employed.’

  The long pause was for effect.

  ‘It has been attested, under oath, that every man taken from that place volunteered, and it was only after time aboard John Pearce wished to reconsider, in fact to renege on his own freely given commitment. You have heard how he tried to suborn other members of the crew to also break their oath, causing so much trouble that Captain Barclay determined to get rid of him by sending him home on the first available ship. Sirs, you are all naval officers. I ask you, are these the actions of a man who had pressed men who were unwilling? No. It is the action of an upright officer, who does not want aboard his vessel any man who does not truly want to serve his king and country.’

  Pigot walked over to stand beside his client. ‘Captain Barclay is guilty.’ That got a gasp from those too stupid to see where it was leading. ‘But he is not guilty of illegal impressment. He broke the bounds of the Liberties of the Savoy in error, not as we have pointed out, his own. What did he find there? Why, men willing to serve, creatures whose life, in such a place, must have been hell on earth. He indeed would have been seen by many as a saviour. Testimony is plentiful that by the time the ship’s boats raised Sheerness, even those who had doubts were happy to accept the King’s shilling. And then what? John Pearce, who you have heard most accurately described as a weathervane…’

  He had to stop then. Emily Barclay, in standing, had noisily pushed back her chair. She glared at Pigot, then spun on her heel and marched out through a door opened for her by a servant. The President, who would have rigged the grating for any officer who had dared to do such a thing, could only offer a weak smile, seeming to be making an excuse for the gentler sex.

  ‘A weathervane,’ Pigot intoned, picking up where he had left off. ‘I will not rehearse again his actions, the court knows them only too well. He claims heroic status, let him live with the knowledge, for he must know, of what he did and what part others played in his good fortune. Suffice to say that released from his bond by Captain Barclay, he could have no idea that another officer would come along and press him out of that merchant vessel. I ask the court to find Captain Barclay guilty, but of indulgence, kindness, understanding and honourable behaviour.’

  Pigot stood rock still for half a minute, then sat down. The President thanked him and Lieutenant Birdutt, then asked that the room be cleared so they could consider their verdict. Once outside, the Premier informed Barclay and both counsel that refreshments were awaiting them in the wardoom.

  ‘Mr Burns,’ said Ralph Barclay.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Back to the ship with you and the other witnesses. The boat may come back for me, and be so good as to ask Mr Glaister to command it personally.’

  They drank well and ate better, for there was nothing more to do, and Birdutt, no longer obliged to even pretend to prosecute, was fulsome in his praise of Barclay’s actions, and convinced the court would see it that way. They were called back within half an hour and faced their five judges, and as the President spoke, the eyes of the accused were on his sword, the point aimed at him, the sign of a guilty verdict.

  ‘Captain Barclay, please rise. The court has considered carefully the evidence brought before it and we feel a sense of deep disquiet that an officer of your experience should allow such a gross error of judgement be permitted.’

  God, thought Ralph Barclay, I’m done for.

  ‘However, taking into consideration all the facts, we find that there was no malice in your actions, that you saw yourself as acting in the best interests of the service. It is the judgement of this court that you should face a reprimand, and that no further action should be contemplated. That is the verdict we will pass to the Commander-in-Chief for confirmation.’

  ‘Might I enquire, sir,’ asked Pigot, ‘if you will see it as necessary to forward the case to a civil court?’

  ‘We will not recommend such a course, but, of course, Lord Hood may see it differently. For now, Captain Barclay, you are free to return to your ship and resume your duties.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Rock of Gibraltar was a welcome sight to any sailor, regardless of the direction from which it was approached, it being one of those points on a sea journey that denotes progress. Yet it was doubly so for a ship of the King’s Navy, being a beacon of the nation’s achievements, an outpost of British power that bearded the Spanish Crown and made impossible any secret egress to the Atlantic Ocean by elements of the French Mediterranean fleet. Such a body of ships, combined with those based in the
Atlantic ports, would, given the Royal Navy’s commitments elsewhere, represent near parity of force, a threat to the shores of England that would be hard to contain.

  Wrested from Spain in 1702, following the Treaty of Utrecht, Gibraltar was the subject of an annual demand by the Spanish court for it to be returned, and just as often that request was denied; it was, quite simply, too valuable a strategic holding to be given up, quite apart from the fact that it had been taken by the effusion of much blood, and held through several sieges with a costly expenditure of that same commodity. There it stood, towering over the Straits, nine miles wide at the narrowest point, affording to anyone looking out from its pinnacle a good view of the African shore and the approaches from both west and east.

  It was a pity that the south-easterly that had given them such swift passage to the Rock swung into the other direction, south-westerly, just a day before it was sighted. Digby, Pearce and Neame now found themselves on deck all the time, as Faron and her charges had to tack and wear towards their destination, working their way in a wind which carried with it fine sand, coating everything it touched.

  ‘It is the prevailing wind this time of year, Mr Pearce, and it do make life hard for a ship seeking to get out into the Atlantic.’

  Pearce was curious; he had come through the Straits on the way out, as easy as kiss my hand. ‘How so?’

  ‘Current’s set dead against it, flows through strong from the west.’

  ‘But surely, as with all currents, it sometimes reverses itself. Water must flow out of the Mediterranean as well as in.’

  ‘You’se taken no account of evaporation, sir, of which there is a deal in these warm climes, and it is reckoned by those who study it that there is a deep water current going out, and it is only the surface current coming in. So to make the outward passage, you need a wind, and even then it ain’t plain sailing, you wait and see.’

  ‘And with the wind foul?’

  ‘It’s weather the southernmost point and get into Algeciras Bay, where we will lay till the wind changes in our favour.’ Then Neame shouted, calling all hands to wear ship, before adding, in a normal voice. ‘Could be stuck for weeks at this time of year and the bay is no joy, what with it being open to the south-westerly swell.’