Ramage's Mutiny (10 page)

Edwards was silent but Marden asked: “What lesson, and how did it tell you about the threat?”

“The lesson was that they was too slow furling the topsail,” Weaver said patiently.

“But Captain Wallis said only one man, yet you say twelve were flogged.”

“Yes, sir. He never did flog the last man because he was the one what fell and killed hisself. ‘Murmuring,' that's what the Captain flogged the twelve for. He said they was murmuring after the man was killed.”

Ramage saw that Captain Teal, sitting next to him, had clenched his hands as they rested on the table top. Threatening to flog the last man down—that could only create panic. Flogging a dozen men for “murmuring” when they saw a frightened shipmate fall from the yard in his rush to avoid punishment … The Navy, Ramage thought bitterly, was better off without men like Wallis. Edwards was still silent. Was he being tactful, leaving the junior members of the court the task of questioning Weaver? The minutes would make uncomfortable reading at the Admiralty, but there were other captains at sea, not as bad as Wallis perhaps but likely to become so; the story should come out, if only to warn them.

“What punishment was awarded the twelve men?” Ramage asked.

“Three dozen each, sir, and he had a left-handed bosun's mate who laid on the last dozen and so crossed the cuts.”

“What happened on the lower deck that night?” Ramage knew he asked the question only to compare the answer with what he guessed his own reactions would have been if he was a seaman.

“Some of them decided to take the ship, sir.”

“How many men decided?”

“About a dozen.”

“Were any of these prisoners among the dozen?”

“Yes, sir. Summers, him what tried to strangle me in the
Sarasota Pride.
”

“Why did he try to strangle you?”

“Because I never did join the mutiny, sir.”

Ramage watched Summers. No reaction; the man's eyes remained staring at the deck. He seemed remote from the trial—perhaps he was at this moment back on board the
Jocasta,
reliving that time two years ago …

“Did the ship's company mutiny the next day?”

“No, sir, not for several days.”

“Why was there a delay?”

“The floggings, sir.”

“What floggings—the dozen the day you joined the ship?”

“Oh no, sir!” Weaver exclaimed, surprised at Ramage's question. “Eight men was flogged the next day, two dozen each, an' four of the men was among the ringleaders, an' by the time the bosun's mates had finished with them their backs was so cut up they could ‘ardly move, let alone mutiny.”

“Why were they flogged?”

“No one was quite sure, sir. Cap'n Wallis said it was the thirty-sixth Article.”

Again Ramage sensed the tension among the captains sitting at the table: they were seeing a grim picture of Wallis emerging, not because Weaver was trying to blacken him but because the simple answers gave away more than the man realized. The thirty-sixth Article covered “All other crimes … which are not mentioned in this Act.” An unscrupulous captain could use it to have a man flogged because he sneezed; indeed the Article was usually called “The Captain's Cloak,” because it covered everything. But one had to try to be fair to Captain Wallis: that bare answer in the minutes could be misleading.

“You must have some idea of what these men did.”

“No, sir. Not then, nor the next day.”

Edwards interrupted and asked harshly: “What happened the next day—the third day, in fact?”

“The Captain picked 22 more men an' charged ‘em under the thirty-sixth. They was all put in irons—that's what set it orf.”

“Set what off?” Edwards asked, obviously trying hard to remain patient.

“The mutiny, sir. It started off with men freeing the 22 prisoners, so they shouldn't be flogged. Most of them still had bloody backs from floggings they'd got earlier.”

Edwards obviously decided that he had heard enough about the mutiny generally because he said abruptly: “I am going to ask you about the activities of these prisoners, but first tell the court what you were doing immediately before the mutiny.”

“Well, sir, Cap'n Wallis was an impatient man, like, and when he called for his steward—that was me, o' course—he didn't like no delay. So he made me sling me ‘ammock just outside his door, right by where the Marine sentry stood.

“That night there was a lot of talk on the lower deck, but I don't know what it was all about—though I could guess—because I kept away from it.”

“Did you know they were plotting a mutiny?”

Weaver waited a full half-minute before answering and then, taking a deep breath, said: “I know what Article Twenty says—' If any person in the Fleet shall conceal any traitorous or mutinous practice or design …'—but I've got to confess I knew but I didn't say nothing.”

“Why did you not report it?”

“Because they said they'd cut my throat if I did.”

“How could they do that, once you warned the officers?”

“They would take the ship anyway, sir,” Weaver said simply, “even if the officers were ready.”

“How do you know that?” Edwards demanded sharply. “There were the Marines.”

“Most of them—all except the lieutenant and sergeant—were in it.”

Edwards knew it was impossible for the sergeant to have been unaware of groups of men gathering on the lower deck and whispering together, but he did not pursue the point; the man had been murdered anyway.

“How and when did the mutiny start?” Edwards asked.

“About ten o'clock at night, sir. The men rushed up from the lower deck. Some seized the quarterdeck, others went to the gunroom, and some went to the Captain's cabin.”

“What about the Marine sentry at the Captain's door?”

“He was in the group that murdered the Captain—leastways, I think he was, sir.”

“Why don't you know? You must have been in your hammock, which you said was slung by the door.”

“As soon as the men came rushing up I started to get out of me ‘ammock, sir, but the sentry fetched me a clip with the butt o' his musket and knocked me out, sir.”

“Very well, let's consider the activities of these other prisoners. What do you know of Summers?”

“He was one of the leaders, sir. He was the one that threatened to cut me throat if I warned the officers.”

“Did he take part in any of the murders?”

“The Captain, sir. I was just getting up after the sentry knocked me out—this was after they'd finished in the cabin—and Summers came out and kicked me in the side, an' he said: ‘I've just done in your bloody Captain.'”

“You are sure of the words?”

“Yes, sir, but Perry—'im that's standing there next to ‘im—said: ‘No,
I
gave ‘im the cut that did for ‘im,' and the two of them started quarrelling about it.”

“Why should they quarrel about it?”

“They was all in liquor, sir, and later on, when they was trying to get the votes, each of them said they should be the leader because they'd killed the Captain.”

“And who was—er, elected captain?”

“Summers, sir, because Perry stood down.”

“Why did Perry stand down?”

“Because of Summers and that knife of his. He suddenly grabbed Perry and knocked him down and held a knife at ‘is throat and said he would kill him too, rather than let him command the ship.”

“And Perry agreed?”

“Yes, sir, he didn't ‘ave no choice, really, but they elected him mate. Summers captain and Perry mate, just like a merchant ship.”

“What about the other people necessary to work the ship—were they elected too?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Harris, the third prisoner there,” Edwards said, “what do you know of him?”

“He wasn't a ringleader, not at first, sir. But after the mutiny he finished off some of them.”

Edwards was so puzzled he could only repeat Weaver's words: “Finished off some of them?”

“The wounded officers—the First and Third Lieutenants and the Lieutenant of Marines: they was still alive after the ship was taken.”

“How was Harris concerned in their murder?”

“The mutineers were voting on everything, and they were told to make a show of hands whether the living officers should be put to death or kept alive and handed over to the Dons, but Harris swore they should all die.”

“He simply made that statement?” Edwards demanded.

“Oh no, sir: he shouted that as he ran below, and he stabbed them where they was lying.”

“What did the mutineers think of that, then?”

“Most of them abused him when he came back to the quarterdeck and said what he had done, but that was all.”

Ramage leaned forward to catch the president's eye and received a nod of approval.

“Were you the only man who did not take part in the mutiny?”

“No, sir, there was forty or fifty of us.”

“What happened to you?”

“We was given all the unpleasant work until we got to La Guaira. Swabbing the blood off the decks, and things like that, sir.”

“So there were about 125 mutineers?”

“About that, sir. I think there was 182 in the ship's company.”

“So the prisoner Summers was elected leader by more than 125 mutineers, and Perry the second-in-command, that is correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Harris—what did he do?”

“Well, sir, he was always in liquor, and not many of the mutineers would have anything to do with him after he killed the wounded. He used to stay close to Summers and run errands for him: fetch him a mug of rum or a chaw of tobacco,” Weaver said contemptuously. “He was trying to make up for being a Johnnie-come-lately, that's what the rest of us reckoned.”

Ramage made a mental note that Weaver's evidence had so far condemned the other three prisoners for conspiracy, concealing mutinous designs, mutiny and murder. It remained to cover running away with the ship, deserting and “holding intelligence with the enemy.” Yet every question that was asked merely underlined the other question that none of them would ever ask out loud: what private hell had Wallis established on board the
Jocasta
that made more than five score seamen rise against him? Ramage was certain the mutiny had been directed entirely at Wallis: the murder of the officers had been incidental. Indeed, the fact that most of the mutineers later wanted to keep alive the wounded survivors bore that out.

More than twenty seamen had been put in irons ready for a flogging next day for—at best—some frivolous charge contrived by Wallis. Part of the mutiny had been to free those men. Part? It was probably the whole reason, but releasing the men meant disposing of the officers and the Captain. Would the men have spared Wallis and the officers if they could have freed the prisoners without bloodshed? Idle speculation: no one would ever know …

Beside him Captain Teal cleared his throat. “After the mutiny was over and the new captain had been elected, how did the men decide where to take the ship?”

“They argued almost the whole day, sir. Some was for taking her back to Jamaica, and some was for the Main.”

“Jamaica?”
Teal asked incredulously.

“Aye, sir. They wanted to draw up a document which everyone on board signed, a round robin, they said, and give it to the Commander-in-Chief when they arrived there.”

Edwards lifted his hand to stop Teal. “This document,” he said brusquely, “what would it have said?”

“Well, sir, they all agreed what it would say; what they didn't agree about was whether it would do any good. Them as thought it wouldn't eventually won on a show of hands.”

“But what would it have
said?
What did they want to tell the Commander-in-Chief?”

“Why, sir,” Weaver said, as though it should have been obvious to everyone, “to tell the Admiral that they meant no harm by what they'd done, that they was loyal to the King but was in mortal fear that Captain Wallis would flog ‘em all to death. An' give the Admiral the figures, of course.”

“What figures?” Edwards was obviously fascinated, but Ramage had already guessed what was coming.

“The figures for the floggings, sir: the Captain had flogged 109 men in seven weeks, a total of 2616 lashes …”

“That's
your
story!” Edwards exclaimed, clearly shocked.

“No, sir,” Weaver said firmly, “they was the figures taken from the
Captain's
journal. Summers showed it to the Spanish officers when they came on board at La Guaira. Captain's own figures, they was.”

There was a complete silence for two or three minutes. Ramage did some hurried sums. That averaged fifteen floggings a week with each man getting two dozen lashes. Captain Marden then asked: “The mutineers finally voted to take the ship to the Main?”

“Yes, sir. Summers and a few of the others made speeches and said if they went to Jamaica they'd all be hanged, signed letter or not, because the Admiral wouldn't listen to them, Captain Wallis being his favourite, so they voted for La Guaira.”

“Summers made such a speech,” said Captain Teal. “What of the other prisoners, Harris and Perry?”

“Perry followed Summers and spoke for La Guaira. Some of the others said the same thing, and then Harris made a long speech. He just repeated what Summers said and the men soon got tired of listening to him and called for a vote.”

“What happened when the ship arrived off La Guaira?”

“The Spanish came out. One of the officers spoke English.” Ramage gave Teal a nudge to indicate he had some questions and asked: “Did you anchor off the entrance or what?”

“No, sir. Summers hoisted white flags—flags of truce, he called ‘em—front the fore, main and mizen, and then hove-to off the anchorage. After about an hour a Spanish boat came out full of soldiers. And lots of officers, of course.”