Part 40 (1/2)
On the way I had the privilege of some talk with the admiral.
Deeply mortified as he was at his own ill success, his personal grief was outweighed by his sense of the national disappointment which must attend the frustration of his design.
”And 'tis my last fight, Bold,” he said to me. ”I shall not live to meet the French again, and 'tis a sore trial to me to go out of the world a failure.”
”You are not a failure, sir,” I said. ”'Tis those rascally captains who have failed and are disgraced forever; and be sure our people will do you justice.”
”You think so?” he said, with a pleased look. ”'Twas King William that called me 'honest Benbow,' and if I keep that name with the country I am content. I may die before we make Port Royal; if I do, you will take my love to Nelly, my lad?”
”I will indeed, sir, but I hope for better things,” I said. ”There be good surgeons in Spanish Town, who will use all of their skill to preserve a life so valuable to the country.”
”We shall see,” he replied. ”This plaguey leg will have to come off; maybe I shall return home with a wooden leg and stump about as port admiral somewhere!
”At any rate, I hope I shall live long enough to see you a captain.
You have done well, my lad, and there will be a few vacancies, I warrant you, when the court martial has done with those villains.”
Before we reached Port Royal a French boat overtook us with a letter to the admiral from Monsieur du Ca.s.se, who, being a brave man, felt for the distress of his brave foe.
”Sir” (he wrote), ”I had little hope on Monday last but to have supped in your cabin, but it pleased G.o.d to order it otherwise; I am thankful for it. As for those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang them up, for by G.o.d, they deserve it.”
Our return to harbor was a melancholy affair. There was universal rage against the unworthy captains, and universal grief at the plight of the admiral. His broken leg was taken off, an operation which he bore with wonderful fort.i.tude, and being of a robust const.i.tution, he gave the surgeons at first good hopes of recovery.
From his sick bed he issued a commission to Rear Admiral Whetstone to hold a court martial for the trial of the four captains whom he accused of cowardice, breach of order, and neglect of duty; and of Captains Fogg and Vincent on the minor charge of signing the paper against engaging the French.
The trial began on the eighth of October. Among the officers who gave evidence (much against his will) against Captain Kirkby was d.i.c.k Cludde, who was carried wounded before the court. Kirkby and Captain Wade of the Greenwich were found guilty on all the charges and sentenced to be shot. Captain Constable was cleared of cowardice, but convicted on the other counts, and he was cas.h.i.+ered from her Majesty's service, with imprisonment during her pleasure.
Captain Hudson of the Pendennis was lucky, as I thought, in dying before the trial which must have branded him with indelible disgrace.
As for my old friend Captain Vincent, and my new commander, Captain Fogg, they alleged in their defense that they had signed the paper only because they feared if we engaged the enemy, that the other captains would wholly desert and leave the Breda and the Falmouth to their fate; and Mr. Benbow himself testifying to their great courage and gallant behavior in the battle, the court was satisfied with suspending them from their employment in the queen's service.
The sentences were not executed at once, it being decided that the officers (except Vincent and Fogg) should be carried to England to await the pleasure of the queen's consort, Prince George of Denmark, who as Lord High Admiral had the power to ratify or quash the decrees of the court martial.
I was not myself present at the trial of these officers. On arriving in the harbor, the admiral was informed that, taking advantage of his absence, a buccaneer vessel had appeared off the north coast, and was doing much damage among the merchant s.h.i.+pping.
Many planters who had suffered in their property had sent requests to the governor to take immediate action against the buccaneers, which he was unable to do until Mr. Benbow's return, Rear Admiral Whetstone not thinking himself justified in diminis.h.i.+ng his own squadron with risk to the general safety of the island.
But on the day before the court martial was to meet Mr. Benbow sent for me, and ordered me to cruise along the north sh.o.r.e in search of the pirate vessel. He did not give me a s.h.i.+p of war for this purpose, thinking that this would only serve to warn the buccaneers, who no doubt had spies in the princ.i.p.al ports. But the brig in which we had brought Mistress Lucy being still in the harbor, the admiral instructed me to fit her out as a trader, and send her to sea with a dummy captain and a skeleton crew, and then to join her secretly with some thirty picked men from the queen's s.h.i.+ps.
This mark of his confidence gave me very great pleasure, and I set about my preparations with zeal, being busy with them during the days of the trial. Knowing how strongly attached I was to Joe Punchard, Mr. Benbow insisted that he should accompany me, declaring with only too much truth that he himself had little need of Punchard's services while he was fixed to his bed.
I had, of course, paid a visit to Mistress Lucy immediately on reaching port. She took me very severely to task for leaving the port without a word of farewell, and seemed to find it a demerit in me that I had returned without a wound, praising d.i.c.k Cludde very warmly for the part he had taken in the fight. I answered with some heat that if I was not wounded 'twas from no s.h.i.+rking of duty, and I would have desired nothing better than that we should board one of the French vessels; 'twas no pleasure for a man to stand idle on deck while guns were shot off. And being now wrought to a certain degree of anger, I reminded her that I had given proof that I was no coward, and hoped the queen would not show herself so ungrateful to those who served her well as some other ladies I could name.
This outburst (foreign to my wonted mildness of temper) brought a color to her cheeks and a gleam to her eyes, and in quite a changed voice she said:
”Indeed, and I am not ungrateful, Mr. Bold.”
And then I craved her pardon (for which, as I learned, Mistress Lucetta Gurney called me a fool), and inquired how her own affairs were prospering.
Mr. McTavish, she told me, had gone back to her estate as steward, she heard from him every week, and he gave excellent reports of the plantations. I asked her whether anything had been heard of Vetch, and whether any vessel conveying her produce from Dry Harbor had been molested by the buccaneers. She said she had no news of either the one or the other, and I inclined to believe that Vetch had accepted his defeat and vanished out of her life for ever. When I told her of the commission intrusted to me by Mr. Benbow she looked a little troubled, and besought me to have a care of myself--a departure from her former indifference that surprised me. I could only answer that I would not court danger, and that as for taking care of myself I must do my duty and leave the rest to Providence.
Long afterwards I learned that she sent privately for Joe Punchard, and extorted from him a solemn promise that he would watch over me day and night, see that I did not take a chill or expose myself to danger, and bring me back unscathed, on pain of her lasting displeasure.
”I had to promise,” said Joe when I taxed him with it. ”I couldn't help it. I would ha' sworn black was white, the mistress have got that way with her. Thinks I to myself, 'Mr. Bold beant a baby, nor I beant a nurse; but I'll commit black perjury to make her happy,'