Tyger

CHAPTER 5

KYDD PENNED A QUICK NOTE to Bazely, then he and Tysoe took the next coach for Portsmouth. No doubt the business would be concluded in a few days and he could be back in Town. Unlike the protracted deliberations of a civil case, court-martial proceedings consisted of naval officers trying their peers. There would be no need for lengthy explanations and all would be judged in the stark light of the Articles of War. It was incontrovertible that Popham had left his station without orders. That alone was sufficient to condemn the man, whatever mitigating circumstances were brought before the court.

Kydd knew the road well and gazed through the window at the garden-like countryside passing by, idly considering possible future entertainments with Miss Sophy when his life of leisure resumed.

The prospect of the old naval port loomed and the coach clattered over Portsea Bridge and into the busy town. In the matter of accommodation the Star and Garter was for lieutenants, the Blue Posts for midshipmen, so Kydd would be lodging at the George, Nelson’s favourite.

It seemed unusually crowded and it was some minutes before he was attended to.

“Staying for the trial, sir?” the innkeeper asked, summoning a porter. Kydd was in plain brown dress but he’d clearly recognised the bearing of a naval officer. Without waiting for an answer, the man added, “Then you’ll be interested in the newspapers, sir. We have them all in the parlour for your convenience.”

While Tysoe saw to the unpacking, Kydd sat in the bow window for the sake of the light and picked up the Portsmouth Post. Although ostensibly just reporting the facts, there was malice behind the words. “The Trial of Sir Home Popham … upon the most serious charge of abandoning his station … the unfortunate failure of the unsanctioned enterprise … must now answer for it before his peers …” In three dense columns the writer had laid out the essentials. The article began with the British army’s near-run conquest and subsequent control of the Dutch-held Cape of Good Hope, at six thousand miles distance of England, leaving the victorious army in control but the Navy’s small squadron under Popham on guard against a vengeful counter-stroke.

The narrative ran on: it was the “unaccountable desire of the naval commander to cross the Atlantic without orders on a brazen attempt to invade South America, which notwithstanding that the capital Buenos Aires had actually been captured in no way excused the action, still less the consequent shipping back of millions in silver bullion.”

The piece pointed out that the adventure had failed, with the ignominious surrender of the British forces to the rag-tag Spanish colonial forces, which was greatly to be regretted. Then, in ponderous, elliptical prose, it scouted the rumours that the entire venture had been for the personal profit of this distinguished officer.

Kydd threw the paper aside. The author had not even mentioned the immense strategic advantage of detaching Spain from her colonies and their sustaining wealth-if successful, it would almost certainly have thrown her out of the war.

The Hampshire Register took a different and more sympathetic tack, wondering if the entire affair was the work of Popham’s enemies, seeking to destroy his reputation. The undoubted benefit to British commerce of opening up the Plate river trade in hides and grain and as a market for industrial goods, it claimed, was never going to be recognised by stiff-necked Tories intent on bringing down Popham.

That was the daily newspapers. The radical Cobbett in his Annual Register had ranted against the expedition as having “originated in a spirit of rapacity and plunder” and even questioned whether Popham “had ever been placed in a situation to have had a single shot fired at him.” There had been pamphlets too, some making direct accusations of avarice and corruption and others of sordid dealings in India.

What was it about Popham that roused such emotions? Kydd shook his head and decided to take a stroll in the warm evening air.

There were many about, some no doubt on their way to Governor’s Green to an open-air meeting on the trial he’d seen posted up, so he shaped course towards the seafront with its view of the fleet at Spithead.

He hadn’t gone far when he heard a cry and saw a figure hurrying towards him. It was his former second lieutenant.

“Good day to you, Mr Bowden. What brings you here?”

“The trial in course, Sir Thomas. As I have a certain interest and … and I find myself at leisure at the moment,” he added.

They began to walk together.

“Your own presence I gather, sir, is rather more than a passing curiosity?”

“I’m summoned as witness. A sad business.” Then Kydd said offhandedly, “Look, if you’ve nothing better, shall you wish to sup with me? The George is famous for its lamb cutlets, as I remember.” They dined together in a quiet corner, the young man respectful and attentive.

But Kydd needed someone to whom he could speak in confidence. It was the inevitable consequence of the sea service: at any time the odds were that his friends and fellow captains were away in their ships, scattered over the globe in the vast oceanic arena that was now modern war.

“You knew Commodore Popham well,” prompted Bowden.

“As far as any man can penetrate his character,” Kydd replied. “A vastly intelligent fellow-you remember Fulton and his submarine boats, his inventing of the telegraph code we used at Trafalgar, the catamaran torpedoes, his raising of the Sea Fencibles-he’s a fellow of the Royal Society and knows more about conjunct operations than any man alive.”

“Conjunct?”

“Where the navy and army join to effect some blow against the enemy that neither may achieve on their own. He was with the Duke of York in Flanders, and that successful destruction of the sluice gates at Ostend in ’ninety-eight? It was his plan, not to mention his transport of Indian soldiers across the Red Sea to take the French in the rear when we were hard-pressed in Alexandria.”

“Then why …?” began Bowden, carefully.

“I can’t answer that. I’ve got along with him well enough but I can see how his superior ways could upset some of the blue-bloods. He’s a genius for making enemies-and friends, for that matter.”

“So the charge is leaving station, sir.”

“A very severe one, young fellow. If the Admiralty thinks you to be in one place, and makes plans to use your fleet in that belief, then finds too late you’re off somewhere else, can you blame them for feeling peeved?”

“Our talk in the gun-room was that he had secret intelligence he was acting upon. Did you believe him, sir, or should I not be asking this of you?”

“No, you should not, but I’ll tell you, as it has to come out in the trial. He told me at the time, without any evidence about him, that he was in thick with the prime minister and others and that they’d together devised a plan of attack on South America and that this was interrupted by Trafalgar. This means that the whole thing against Buenos Aires could have been an official move, not his own idea.”

“Ah. I see that the only way he can prove this is to call the prime minister as witness, but he’s-”

“Quite. Pitt dying is a big blow to his story. That is, if it wasn’t all a bit of a stretcher from the beginning.”

“Sir, can I ask you a personal question, as bears on the trial?”

“You can-but I’m not bound to answer it.”

“Sir, can you tell me why you fell in with his proposal to quit station?”

“I … I judged it more in keeping with a naval officer’s duty to do something in a rush of events than sit idle waiting for orders. I conceived that there was an opportunity of strategical significance that, if missed, would be a betrayal of the higher cause.”

“Sir, there were those in L’Aurore who observed you close to him, even as his special confederate in the whole matter. I hope you will excuse my plain speaking, but they might be forgiven for wondering why you are not standing next to him at the trial.”

“Do you think I should be?” Kydd asked.

“No, sir,” Bowden said. “You showed loyalty to your superior as so you should. And, besides,” he added, with a twist of a smile, “were you not following orders, as you must?”

“You’ll go far in the service, young whipper-snapper.”

“Then may I know what position you’ll take in court?” Bowden persisted.

“Position? There’s only one possible, as you should know.”

“Oh?”

“I tell the whole truth.” Kydd paused, then said with a slow smile, “That is, I answer every question put to me, neither more nor less than the matter being asked. If certain questions are not put, then …”

“And if they require to know whether you believe Commodore Popham was right to-”

“That is a matter of opinion, not evidence, and has no place in a court-martial,” Kydd barked.

He had thought hard about his position and this was the only one he could square with his conscience. On the one hand he felt sympathy with what the man had been trying to achieve in the larger picture, but on the other he did not want to be seen in the ranks of those trying to tear him down.

Yet there was still one niggling concern: might he eventually find himself accused of being an accomplice and arraigned?

In the morning, at eight precisely, a single gun thudded out from Gladiator and a Union flag mounted to her masthead.

The court-martial of a senior officer of the Royal Navy in what some were calling the trial of the age was beginning with the summoning of the court.

The majority were admirals and, as was the custom, mere captains took boat first from the man-o’-war steps. There was a sizeable crowd to see them go, held back by redcoats from the garrison, and an excited buzz rose. Kydd was in his full-dress uniform, his star and crimson sash marking him out as one of the sea-heroes so talked about, and he gravely acknowledged the cheers.

In the boat were other witnesses of like rank, with two older captains who were to sit in judgement. They avoided each other’s gaze until they reached the venerable ship’s side and disembarked one by one.

An immaculate side-party in white gloves piped them aboard, then the captain of Gladiator welcomed them and saw the witnesses aft to a special area where they would wait until called.

The great cabin was arranged with a long table and chairs, several side-chairs and small tables for officials and attendants.

One by one the members of the court filed in, in strict order of seniority, the glitter of gold lace and the steely gleam of the sword of the provost marshal adding to the solemn majesty of the moment.

Last to enter was the president of the court, Admiral Young, who took his high-backed chair with ponderous deliberation. Next to him was the judge advocate who would advise on points of law and procedure. At one end was a bewigged civilian supported by another, the prosecuting counsel for the Admiralty; at the far end two others stood beside an empty chair, Popham’s legal counsel.

After a muttered consultation the president was ready.

“Carry on, the Admiralty marshal.”

This was the warrant for proceedings, under the signature of the highest authority possible.

A clerk took up a paper and read, in a thin, reedy voice, “‘Whereas Captain Sir Home Popham left the Cape of Good Hope without orders to attack the Spanish settlement on the Rio de la Plata, now this is to command you that you take the said Sir Home Popham under arrest preparatory to his trial by court-martial for his said offence.’”

Each of the members of the court were then individually put on oath.

“Bring in the prisoner.”

Popham wore a faint smile as he stood erect before the court.

His sword was produced by the provost marshal and handed to the president.

“You are Captain Sir Home Popham?”

“I am.” The voice was calm and even. “Mr President, I have thought it advisable to seek legal assistance upon this occasion and I beg leave to ask permission of this court to have this assistance attend me during the trial.”

“Sir Home, any assistance you may require, the court is very willing to allow you.”

Popham gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, and the opening gentlemanly play was over.

Although he was not in the great cabin, Kydd knew what would be happening. A court-martial was a straightforward affair: the precise charge facing the prisoner would be read out, then the prosecution would make its case, producing the entirety of evidence in support of the charge. Following this, the defence would begin with its own evidence, then witnesses would be called and examined by both sides. On completion, after the customary closing address by the prisoner, the court would be cleared for deliberation to a verdict.

On more than one occasion Kydd had sat on courts that had opened in the morning and concluded before midday; evidence presented, witnesses heard and verdict arrived at-a man condemned to hang at the yardarm.

The president turned to the judge advocate. “The letter of complaint, if you please.”

The archaic practice was for the charges to be framed in the form of a grievance from the Admiralty to be addressed by the assembled court.

Rising to his feet and adjusting his spectacles, the learned gentleman outlined the case to the court: “‘By the commissioners for executing the office of Lord High Admiral of Great Britain and Ireland, etc., to William Young, Esquire, Admiral of the Blue, and second officer in the command of His Majesty’s ships and vessels at Portsmouth and Spithead. By command of their lordships, William Marsden, first secretary to the Admiralty.’” The words rolled out with a practised delivery.

“‘Whereas, by an order … Sir Home Popham, then captain of His Majesty’s Ship Diadem … was directed to take under his command … for the purpose of capturing the enemy’s settlements at the Cape of Good Hope in conjunction with the troops of Major General Sir David Baird … and whereas it appears from letters from the said Sir Home Popham that he was proceeding to Rio de la Plata with a view to attack the Spanish settlements for which he had no direction or authority whatsoever, and he did withdraw from the Cape the whole of the naval force which had been placed under his command for the sole purpose of protecting it, thereby leaving the Cape, which it was his duty to guard, not only exposed to attack and insult … all of which the said Sir Home Popham did notwithstanding that he had previous information of detachments of the enemy’s ships being at sea … And whereas it appears to us, that a due regard to the good of His Majesty’s service imperiously demands that so flagrant a breach of public duty should not pass unpunished.’” He flashed a glance at Popham. “‘We send herewith, for the support of the charge, the following papers, viz:

“‘The copy of an order from the lords commissioners of the Admiralty … to Sir Home Popham, to take the ships therein named under his command, and to proceed to the Cape of Good Hope …’”

Some eighteen orders and instructions were cited, and after a small cough to signify a change of tempo, the reading concluded with, “‘And we do hereby require and direct you forthwith to assemble a court-martial; which court (you being the president thereof) is hereby required and directed to enquire into the conduct of, and try the said captain, Sir Home Popham, for the offences with which he is charged accordingly. Given under our hands …’”

The judge advocate turned to the president. “Further, sir, I have here a letter directing Mr Jervis, counsel for the affairs of the Admiralty and navy, assisted by Mr Bicknell, to conduct the prosecution on the part of the Crown.”

At the opposite end of the table to Popham, a thin, predatory figure in legal robes rose and bowed briefly to the president. Before sitting he fixed an intent look on Popham.

It was crowded in the witness waiting area. Several left to stretch their legs on deck for a space. A seamed old captain sitting next to Kydd leaned sideways and whispered, “They’re no doubt making sure o’ things. That legal cove prosecuting can call old Jarvie ‘uncle,’ did ye know?”

Kydd felt dismay. Was St Vincent really going to such lengths or was it merely coincidence that his nephew was leading the prosecution? Either way, however Kydd answered as a witness, his words would doubtless be known to the implacable old admiral the same day. When under examination it would be wise to weigh what he said very carefully indeed.

“This court now sits. Pray read to the court the evidence in support of the charge.”

“Very good, Mr President. Document One. Copy of Instructions to Sir Home Popham.

“‘By the commissioners for executing the office of Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, etc., the Lord Viscount Castlereagh, one of His Majesty’s principal secretaries of state, having, with his letter …’” He read aloud the actual instructions to Popham in the matter of preparation for the descent on Cape Colony in all their meticulous wording.

“Document Two. Copy of a letter to Sir Home Popham …”

One by one the orders and strictures that had passed out of the Admiralty from hopeful beginning to disastrous end were revealed, a damning avalanche of evidence that took nearly two hours to complete. Included were intelligence appraisals from military commanders in the field, advisories from the new governor of the colony and correspondence between the secretary of state for war and the Admiralty.

It finally ceased.

Popham had been listening politely, his faint smile still in place, but as soon as the judge advocate sat down he spoke crisply: “Mr President, I beg leave to point out that Document One is in error, sir.”

Admiral Young blinked in perplexity. “Sir Home, these are Admiralty documents. How can they possibly be in error?”

“May I draw the court’s attention to a significant omission? If you’ll note the passage relating to the governor having information concerning where the French had prosecuted their voyage, here we read ‘the Indies,’ which is clearly in error.”

“I don’t really see-”

“Sir, the accompanying dispatch makes clear that the ‘West Indies’ is signified. If this document is to be received as it stands I shall have been sorely calumnied, for if understood as the ‘East Indies’ a most improper impression of my motives for proceeding would have been deduced. Sir, these are copies. That a clerk may have omitted the word is to be regretted, but worse would be to let it stand. I must insist that the word ‘West’ be inserted to correct the error.”

“This is most untoward. Mr Jervis, do you wish to speak to the matter of this omission?”

“Sir, I am not prepared, not having the original dispatch by me.” The prosecutor glared down the table. “I’m not disinclined to admit that there might be such a mistake alluded to by the honourable captain, but without the original I cannot state positively.”

“Then-”

“The matter is trivial. This dispatch is not entered in as evidence against the honourable captain but read in the statement of the charge only.”

“Sir Home?”

“I am aware that the document is not admissible evidence against me, but I allow I’m desirous that every document laid before the court should be correct in its particulars. Indeed, sir, I’m anxious that everything should transpire, as concealment is not in my interest.”

“Mr Jervis?”

“This conversation is very irregular, sir. As the paper is not adduced in evidence, any mistake in it cannot be considered material.” He shot a venomous look at Popham. “However, I would have no objection to accede to the honourable captain’s wish.”

The correction was so entered.

“Mr President,” the judge advocate intoned, “all papers that compose the charge have now been read.”

“Sir Home, do you now accept the receipt of these documents on to the court’s records?” the president asked heavily.

“Certainly. I do admit every document referred to in the charge that purports to be written by me, also such as were received by me.”

“Thank you. Then we may go on to-”

“Such as were received by me. This cannot include Documents Three, Four and Five.”

“Pray why not, sir?”

“These Admiralty instructions sent in dispatch by Belle Poule packet were captured by the enemy. Their duplicates, by Lyar cutter, never arrived on station as she did not touch at the Cape. In fine, sir, I cannot be held to account by anything specified therein since I did not receive them.”

Jervis came back instantly: “May it please the court, the dispatches do not form evidence to affect the honourable captain as knowing their contents. They are adduced merely to show to the court the orders issued by the Admiralty in the belief he was still on station.”

The president frowned. “As there is no evidence of the receipt of these orders, of course no charge of disobedience can arise out of them. However, let them be so received.”

Popham smiled wolfishly. “Then for what purpose are they laid before the court, if they are not meant to affect me? I really cannot perceive the object the learned counsel has in view. I do not wish to argue a point of law with the eminent gentleman but I am advised that naught may be entered save it is legally admissible as evidence.”

“Sir! Are you questioning the prerogatives of the court to rule upon a question of law?”

“Sir, I have been asked to accept the entirety of a total of eighteen documents brought forward today when but three were served on me when arrested. There are here papers I have never seen or heard of. I hope the court will feel it natural that I should seek to be fully prepared and therefore grant an adjournment.”

“Sir Home. There are officers here today called away from various stations where they are engaged in the service of their country. Therefore every degree of expedition is desirable. I shall adjourn, and trust you are ready with your defence shortly.”

Bowden was waiting for Kydd after he had braved excited crowds to return to the George.

“Sir, you’ll think it awfully impertinent of me, but-”

“You want to hear about the trial.”

“I do, sir. Everyone’s talking of it and-”

“I’m bound not to speak of proceedings until they be over, Lieutenant.”

“Oh. Well, I do understand then, sir. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

Kydd relented: all would be made public eventually. “If it was known I’d been speaking to you, I’d be indicted for contempt of court, and you wouldn’t wish that upon me, would you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then we’d better not let it be known. The cards room, one hour.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

They found a pair of winged chairs near the fire, the noisy play at the tables ensuring they could not be heard. Kydd appreciatively sipped the brandy he had demanded as fee for his tale.

“Well, do you know the usual watch and station bill for a court-martial?”

“I’ve never attended one, sir.”

“Now, this one’s nothing like it. It’s held in Gladiator, a paltry new-hulked forty-four-gun fifth rate of the last age, thirty years or more old. Can you conceive of it? Seven admirals, four captains and all the court lackeys, jammed into a great cabin not much bigger than L’Aurore’s?”

Bowden shook his head.

“So they made as though clearing for action-tore down the bulkheads so the bed-place, coach and great cabin were all one.” He smiled ruefully. “Well, of course, witnesses aren’t allowed in the court except when they give their evidence, but through-shall we say?-various means, we did get the drift of what was going on …”

“And?”

“First of all Popham is brought in to hear the charges read, as cool as may be. And I should tell you that the prosecutor is old Jarvie’s-that is to say, Earl St Vincent’s-nephew. And then all kinds of legal backing and filling. By any standard, Popham was a taut hand at the business, dishing Jervis like a good ’un. Not a wise notion to bait such a one, I’m thinking, or debate law with the president of the court.”

Kydd smiled briefly. There was no doubting the man’s courage, or his intelligence.

“Then they read out the prosecution evidence, all of it, and a shocking hill of it there was. I really can’t see how he can tack around it. He did sail for South America without orders, that’s the truth of it, and they’re going to hang him for it.”

“Court will come to order. Sir Home, are you now prepared to defend the charges brought against you?”

“In so far that in the small time allowed me to draw up my defence, I am now ready to answer, yes, sir.”

“Then do so, if you will.”

“If it please the court. Sir, after having devoted the greater part of my life to the service of my king and country, I am brought before you to vindicate my conduct upon a charge so extraordinary in its nature as was ever submitted to the interrogation of a court-martial-that with means placed at my disposal for a successful attack against the possessions of the enemy, instead I should have suffered my command to remain inactive.

“Notwithstanding this singular view, it is my intention to demonstrate to the court that, far from being a rash adventure conducted on an impulse, this has been an operation of long consideration, carefully planned and authorised at the highest level, the prime minister himself terming it his ‘favourite object.’ I shall bring to the attention of the honourable members of this court memoranda and dispatches that reveal my actions to be sanctioned by ministerial knowledge and approval.

“In this, was I not doing my duty in the interest of my country? As to the accusation that I quit my station without leave, I can only point to more illustrious commanders than myself who, in the recollection of members here sitting, have seen with the daring spirit of enterprise an opportunity to further gallant achievement beyond a passive acceptance of their situation.

“I beg leave to mention the coup de main of Admiral Rooke who, having no orders to do so, in bold enterprise seized Gibraltar for the British Crown. And in the late war, in 1793, Lord Hood took it upon himself to enter Toulon and move upon Bastia. That we had insufficient force to hold them does not diminish his achievement. Neither was he made subject of imputation.

“At a later date we find Lord St Vincent, then Sir John Jervis, sent the heroic Nelson to attack Tenerife in the mistaken belief that treasure ships were sheltering there, which as we know met with dolorous consequences. This was undertaken without orders from any superior authority and outside the limits of his command. Certainly no judicial inquiry or public censure ever followed the enterprise.”

The shot hit home: the prosecuting counsel’s face tightened but Popham went on in measured tones.

“And I need hardly remind the honourable members of the action of the gallant Lord Nelson himself in leaving his station to pursue Villeneuve to the West Indies. I quote from his letter at the time from Martinico. ‘I had no hesitation in forming my judgement, and I flew to the West Indies without any orders, and I think the ministry cannot be displeased.’ I believe it unnecessary to state that the country as a whole rejoiced at his so doing.

“In short, it is that officers with independent command cannot be fettered by the literal tenor of the orders given them. A command such as mine is, from its very nature, discretionary in the very comprehensive meaning of the word.”

He accepted a sheaf of papers handed to him by his counsel. “Honourable gentlemen, I have here sufficient evidence for my stand. That my project was known at cabinet level and that I acted with due discretion in the discharge of my duty. May therefore these be read into the record.”

“And this is the documentary evidence for your defence?”

“It is, Mr President.”

“Very well. Judge Advocate?”

One by one they were read out in open court, Jervis in ill-natured debate challenging their legitimacy as evidence, demanding corroboration, sarcastically questioning their relevance. But it appeared that Popham indeed had had the ear of the greatest in the land.

The picture they gave was of Popham moving in the very highest circles-accounts of his dealings with Miranda, the Venezuelan revolutionary, and early plans for a joint attack on Spanish South America. Letters from Pitt demanding more details, military estimates to meet secret plans, correspondence with the Admiralty and, in fact, the first lord himself on the subject.

“We will now call witnesses.”

The president of the court picked up his list and made play of consulting it.

“Call Henry Dundas, First Viscount Melville.”

There was an immediate rustle around the court-this was none other than the reigning first lord of the Admiralty at the time, who could be relied upon to have been privy to every naval confidence.

It took a little while, for the noble lord was being accommodated ashore until summoned. A tall, imposing figure, he appeared with his flag lieutenant.

As soon as he was sworn in Popham wasted no time. “Will your lordship have the goodness to relate to the court the circumstances respecting the communications I held with Mr Pitt and your lordship upon the subject of a proposed expedition to South America?”

A respectful hush descended. If a first lord of the Admiralty supported Popham’s claims, then the court-martial was all but over-who sitting there in judgement would dare to press the issue?

Jervis waited in a forced rigidity, Popham with an air of supreme confidence and polite patience.

“I … feel some difficulty in answering this question,” Melville began, with a deprecating gesture. “I have no doubt it can be answered but for any allusion to confidential secrets of state, and this …”

Popham’s smile slipped a little. “Nothing can be more foreign to my wish than a disclosure leading to the improper publication of a state secret. No-let my reputation suffer rather than such a consequence be risked.”

“Then I shall endeavour to answer to the best of my recollection.”

Dundas began by telling the court how Popham had introduced General Miranda with a plan for a simultaneous descent on the southern continent, at the successful conclusion of which Britain would be rewarded with preferential access to the newly opened market.

“Did Mr Pitt accede to this plan?”

“We had several conversations on the matter but did not immediately proceed.”

Jervis scribbled something that was handed to the president, who held up his hand. “Can your lordship indicate to the court why this was so?”

“I may say that a higher political purpose prevented it.”

“Sir, if at all possible, the court would be interested to know it.”

“Very well, as any pretence at secrecy in the matter is now no longer practicable. It is that until the events off Cape Trafalgar it was held that any attempt on the Spanish colonies would provoke a more fierce adherence to the French cause, at hazard to our diplomatic exertions in Madrid to detach them.”

Swiftly Popham gave over a paper. “Does your lordship recognise this letter?”

“I do. It is one sent by me directing you to attend a meeting with Mr Pitt upon the subject.”

“And to produce a memoir upon the matter.”

“That is so.”

“Which resulted in a warm discussion between us.”

Jervis had waited for his moment: it was now.

“Mr President,” he said, in a voice silky with menace, “this is neither here nor there in the charge before the court. We accept that the honourable captain was engaged in dealings with the noble lord and Mr Pitt in the matter of South America. There is really but one question that interests us: does his lordship confirm or deny that orders were given to Sir Home Popham specific to an attack on Buenos Aires?”

“Let the question be put.”

“No orders were given in that tenor.”

Smoothly, as if nothing had happened, Popham continued to examine the first lord. Cabinet meetings, dry detail of fleet assembly, intelligence pertaining to Spanish colonial conditions but nothing to stand against the damning disclosure just given.

Melville was stood down with every expression of gratitude for his time graciously given.

Popham then called William Sturges Bourne, Esquire.

He took position before the court and was duly sworn in.

“Is it possible, Mr Bourne, from the situation you held, you should be acquainted with the secrets of government?”

“I am not aware of the extent of your question.” The man was reticent, defensive.

Popham seemed nettled. “Were you one of the secretaries at the Treasury during the administration of Mr Pitt?”

“I was.”

“Then do you recall, sir, confidential information received by your office relative to the situation obtaining in Buenos Aires?”

“I have a faint recollection only.”

“Come, come, sir. Of such import, and bearing so on the-”

“I object-leading the witness!” rapped Jervis.

“Quite. Sir Home, in any case the witness has further admitted only an unreliable knowledge of this. I rule the question disallowed.”

“As the court pleases. Mr Bourne, do you recollect the confidence Mr Pitt reposed in me in respect of secret matters pertaining to South America and in particular the situation in the Rio de la Plata?”

“He mentioned you in cabinet discussions on the subject,” he said carefully.

“And did he not in your hearing seek my personal opinion on the officer to command the Cape expedition?”

“I have some remembrance of it, but not sufficiently strong for me to speak positively on it.”

Admiral Young interjected, “Sir Home, where your questioning is headed is not altogether clear to the court. I have but one question to put to the witness: Mr Bourne, in the conversations at which you were present with Mr Pitt and Sir Home Popham, was it determined or proposed to attack the Spanish settlements in South America after the assault on the Cape, in the event that it proved successful?”

“I recollect no proposal being made in any conversation respecting a descent on the Spanish settlements in South America.”

“Thank you. Have you any more questions for this witness, Sir Home?”

Bourne was stood down and William Huskisson was sworn in.

A young, intense individual, his prominent forehead and alert eyes gave an impression of high intelligence.

“Were you one of the principal secretaries in Mr Pitt’s government?”

“I was.”

“Do you recollect my taking leave of Mr Pitt in your room at the Treasury, immediately prior to my sailing for the Cape?”

“I do.”

“Was the impression at all on your mind that I had at that time a conversation with Mr Pitt on South America?”

Jervis objected immediately. “The question is illegal. How can the witness testify to what transpired when he was not present?”

“Sir Home?”

“Mr President, I cannot understand distinctly what the learned prosecutor means when he calls this illegal evidence. Unfortunately for me and the country, Mr Pitt is no more and I am therefore under the necessity of seeking that from others he could prove by himself were he alive. In the absence of this testimony I now adduce one of his most confidential friends in order to show the wish and views of that illustrious man.”

“We will allow the question.”

“I had the impression that the conversation related to South America, yes,” said Bourne.

“Sir, did you have any discussion with Mr Pitt yourself upon the subject of South America, particularly Buenos Aires?”

“I did have, as I was directed to take certain steps by his desire concerning Buenos Aires.”

“And what was the nature of this direction?”

“In that instance it was to explain the existence of a map or chart of the approaches being lately taken from the King of Spain’s depot in Madrid, being afterwards copied for the French military.”

“For what purpose, pray?”

“It was believed to form part of a design by the French for their own incursion, a likelihood which was not thought much of.”

“Sir Home,” the president came in, “I find myself under the painful necessity of intervening once again. Let the witness answer: did Mr Pitt at any time communicate to you any orders of a nature requiring Sir Home to attack Buenos Aires upon successful conquest of the Cape?”

“I certainly never understood from Mr Pitt that Sir Home had such positive or provisional orders, no, sir.”

“Sir Home?”

“Sir. It could be said that plans were well advanced for the reduction of the Spanish colonies when I sailed for the Cape. Were they not put in train to take effect once news of the successful taking of Cape Colony was received? That is to say, orders from Mr Pitt would have been issued if I had not exercised my discretion in view of rapidly advancing events?”

“I cannot speak to that. At this time there was no communication between myself and Mr Pitt, he being upon his death-bed.”

Popham’s hands clenched, once, and in a thick voice he asked, “How long have you been in post?”

“In a situation with the Admiralty? Why, sir, we may say above twelve years.”

“In a long experience as chief secretary to that board, can you state to the court whether in the trials of Admiral Byng, Lord Keppel, Sir Robert Calder, Admiral Duckworth-”

“Pray what is your question, Sir Home?” the president asked testily.

Popham went on doggedly, “-whether the charge was framed in such a manner as to call the court, ahead of the trial, to punish the individual to be tried?”

The witness looked helplessly at the president, who frowned.

“Sir Home, I’m at a loss to understand where this is leading. Kindly explain to the court what you expect the witness to disclose by this line of questioning.”

Popham breathed deeply. “I demand a precedent for the scandalous pre-judging of my case, by which I mean the charge, which contains an incitement to punish the defendant even before tried!”

“I cannot know what you mean by that, sir!”

“I quote from the charge, sir, read out in open court at the outset of this trial. It plainly states: ‘Whereas a due regard to the good of His Majesty’s service imperiously demands that so flagrant a breach of public duty should not go unpunished!’ This is not to be borne, sir!”

“I beg to know what we have to do with that,” the president rapped. “The Admiralty have the authority to word the charge as they please. They are not to be arraigned for wording the charge as they see proper. I have sat on fifty courts-martial or more and never heard such quibbling.”

Jervis looked sorrowfully at Popham. “And as learned counsel, my earnest advice is that censuring the Admiralty is not a way for the prisoner to defend himself.”

“Quite, quite,” the president rumbled. “This seems a good point to end the day, I believe.”

“What he said today didn’t help him, apparently,” Kydd said, tucking into more collops of fish. “Talk about Nelson and other great men leaving their station.”

Bowden reached for the sauce. “He has a point, surely. They quit their rightful station without orders-this is a precedent if ever there was one.”

“Not so! Consider the charge-it’s wonderfully crafted. They want to make sure of it, see him nailed to the bulkhead.” Kydd hesitated to say more in front of a former lieutenant in his ship. But he knew the young man could be trusted not to repeat what he said. “The charge is not for leaving station, it’s not for attacking South America, it’s not even for failing at Buenos Aires. It is that he’s guilty of sailing off and leaving the Cape undefended.”

“So …”

“You see, Nelson and all the other commanders had a battlefleet, which is meant to chase after the enemy. Popham had a fleet of sorts but its job was to stay in one spot to defend a territory, not sail off into the blue.”

“Ah. Then what about his talking of Miranda, bringing in Pitt, the others?”

“He nearly did it-pulled the court around, humbled ’em by showing how he’d been hobnobbing with high politicals. He even called Lord Melville and other grand ones to witness how he’d been thick with Billy Pitt actually planning an attack on South America.”

“And it didn’t work?”

“If he could show he’d orders or instructions for the taking of the Spanish colonies he’d be able to argue he was only being impatient-but none of ’em would say he had positive instructions to that effect. It really destroyed him and he ended up losing his humour.”

Kydd leaned back. That such a brilliant mind was being slowly ground down was a sad spectacle, but how much was he bringing on himself? This talk of how he, a lowly post captain, had had the ear of the highest could only provoke resentment and fear among those his superior, and there was not much doubt that his disgrace would bring much satisfaction.

The trial had gone on for considerably longer than the usual court-martial but the end must be soon. Unless Popham could meet the central charge with an unanswerable argument it would be all over for him.

“Sir Home. Before we begin proceedings, I think I must mention, sir, you will feel that this court has listened to you with patient attention while many papers were read and examinations put that were wholly irrelevant to the question immediately before it. It has done so out of consideration of what you have alleged to be unfavourable prejudices in the public at large, which have gone abroad. With such the court has nothing to do. Thus I trust you will confine yourself to points necessary to defend against the charge now before us.”

Popham was now back in possession of himself and spoke in a cool, wary manner. “I shall most anxiously endeavour to comply with the wishes of the honourable court and I beg to present thanks for the indulgent attention I have received.”

He glanced once at the silent Jervis, now poised like a vulture awaiting its chance to fall upon a weakened prey.

“I do call Mr Thomas Browne, Esquire.”

A bulky man entered and came forward.

“Mr Browne. Were you master attendant at the Cape directly after its capture?”

“I was.” The voice was husky and indistinct.

“Speak up, if you please,” the president snapped.

“I was that, sir, yes.”

“Do you remember when I sailed for South America?”

“I do, sir.”

“At that precise time, were the defences of Cape Colony in such a state as to offer sufficient security against any attempt of the enemy to retake the Cape-in your opinion, of course?”

“Opinion has no place as evidence, if it please the court,” Jervis said, with heavy patience.

“Sustained.”

Popham smiled briefly. “Then it becomes necessary to lay before the court in detail the facts of the situation obtaining at the Cape in order they shall make their own appreciation.”

“Is this really necessary, Sir Home?”

“Sir, as you have made abundantly clear, the heart of the charge against me is that I left the Cape undefended to prosecute my attack on the Spanish settlements. By this I will show that it was far from the case.”

Without waiting for an answer he launched into a detailed examination of the fortifications and other works one by one.

The litany drew on.

Jervis was attending with an air of superior confidence. Finally, he spoke. “If I could be permitted an observation?”

“Of course, Mr Jervis,” the president said with relief.

“The honourable judge advocate might correct me, but surely what is being attempted to be established is entirely beside the point. Whatever the honourable captain brings forward in military facts does not address the central issue: that it is for the Admiralty to adjudge the level of defences due a station, and in their wisdom they had appointed him and certain forces they deemed necessary to defend Cape Colony.

“I would be interested to know what grounds the prisoner has for disputing the judgement of their lordships.”

It was a savage blow and, for the first time, Popham’s face betrayed a stab of despair.

“A valid and cogent remark, Mr Jervis. Sir Home, this line of defence is worthless to you. I strongly suggest you find a more reliable one.”

“Very well, sir. Stand down, Mr Browne.”

And then it was time. “Call Captain Sir Thomas Kydd.”

Kydd entered and made his way to the table to be sworn in, conscious that every eye was on him.

“Sir Thomas, how long have you been an officer in the Royal Navy?”

He raised his eyes to meet Popham’s and saw only a controlled wariness.

He braced himself: if the questions following attempted to implicate him as principal in the offence then not only would he most certainly earn St Vincent’s ruthless enmity but he might well end up with his own court-martial.

“Since the year 1797.”

“When you earned a field promotion at the battle of Camperdown.”

“Yes.”

“Your subsequent service saw you at both the Nile and Trafalgar?”

“That is true.”

The president interrupted: “Captain Kydd wears the star of a knighthood, Sir Home. We accept that he is a distinguished and gallant officer if that is your purpose.”

“You were under my command as part of the Cape squadron.”

“I was.”

“Were you present at the capture of the French frigate Volontaire?”

“That is so. I took possession of the vessel per your orders.”

“Were you with me at the examination of her papers?”

“I was.”

“Did they indicate that the vessel was part of a battle squadron?”

“They did-but of the Willaumez force, bound for the West Indies.”

“Thank you. Later you took the corvette Marie Galante. You returned with valuable intelligence. Pray tell the court its nature and the circumstances of its discovery.”

“It was reliable information that the vessel was not part of any fleet at large in the Indian Ocean and that all other squadrons had sailed for France.”

“And how was this intelligence obtained?” Popham prompted.

“I had a Guernseyman in my crew who I set to be sentry over the prisoners. They talked freely before him, thinking him English. They revealed that-”

Jervis raised his hand. “Sir Thomas, what rank was this Guernsey seaman?”

“An able seaman so far as I can remember.”

“And whose testimony may therefore not be acceptable in a matter of high intelligence.”

The president raised his eyebrows. “The court will consequently ignore this last. Have you any more questions for this witness?”

“Sir Thomas, at the time we sailed for South America did you at any time take the view that the Cape was open to descent from the French?”

“Objection. The evidence takes the form of an opinion and-I beg pardon of the honourable captain-from a junior not to be expected to know the strategical situation.”

Popham returned hotly, “This was the captain of a frigate entrusted with the responsibility of several independent cruises touching upon the defences of the Cape. I know not any who could be more cognisant about the reigning situation than such a one! Sir Thomas?”

“In the knowledge of the quitting of all French squadrons from the adjacent seas I saw nothing to indicate there were hostile plans to be directed against the Cape.”

“Did you have any reason to suppose there was on the other hand any internal threat obtaining?”

“Objection! How is it at all possible that a naval officer, however distinguished, might be in a position to make comment on that?”

Popham gave a tight smile of condescension. “The court may not know that this officer was centrally involved in the suppression of a French-inspired rising of the natives, the last threat of consequence to our holdings in the Cape.”

“Sir Home, I fail to see-”

“Now, Sir Thomas. You were present, were you not, when the American trader Waine arrived in Cape Town with information concerning the current state of Buenos Aires, its defences and politics?”

“I was.”

“Kindly tell the court your conclusions following our interview with him and the examination of the Buenos Aires newspapers he offered.”

Kydd went cold. He remembered this well as the turning point when the fantasy Popham had conjured became a practical reality. There and then he had offered his support. Yet if it were taken that as a consequence he had thrown in his lot with the prisoner before the court things could turn very ugly.

The inner truth was, of course, that he had gone with the scheme for its audacity and prospects but-

“Sir Thomas?”

He was only too aware of Popham’s intent gaze as he waited for the reply.

“My conclusion at the time was that should orders be given for a move on Buenos Aires it would be difficult to conceive a better time.”

Jervis struck like a snake. “Should orders be given … Then pray tell the court, Sir Thomas, what your objections were when an attack on the Spanish was formally proposed.”

It was a loaded question and Kydd floundered for a reply. His very nature rebelled at anything other than a faithful account, but this would be to say that he did not in fact object and therefore he was in favour of an expedition.

His next words could …

“If it please the court, I found it difficult to object to the practicality of what was being put forward, which as we know did result in a success for His Majesty’s arms.”

He dared a glance at Popham and from the slumped shoulders and bowed head realised that he’d failed him. It clutched at his heart. That long-ago time in the old Diadem’s cabin when they’d talked of being left to rot in a backwater station, the boredom and lack of a chance at distinction, then an opportunity for both of them-and now this.

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came.

The president snapped, “Sir Thomas, thank you and you may stand down.”

“Are there any further witnesses?”

It seemed there were not.

“I rule therefore that you should now look to closing your defence, Sir Home.”

It was all but over.

Popham had only a brief closing speech to make before the court retired for deliberation to a verdict.

“I here close my defence and I throw myself on the wisdom and justice of this honourable court. My feelings and character have suffered severely but I trust to your judgement to relieve the one and rescue the other.

“If I have, in the exercise of my zeal, exceeded the strict bounds of discretion, I hope it will be evident that I have been actuated solely by a desire to advance the honour, glory and interest of my country …”

It was noble, uplifting rhetoric and concluded with a Shakespearean quotation from Othello, defending the Venetian state: “That the very head and front of my offending hath this extent-no more!”

A stirring among the members of the court seemed to show that they were not unmoved, and as the prisoner was led away by the Admiralty marshal they all rose to their feet.

“Clear the court.”

As with all who had been present for the days of the trial there was a reluctance to leave the ship before the verdict was reached, and Kydd found himself pacing the upper deck with them, engaging in awkward small-talk as the time passed.

It was not until hours later, when the sun was going down, that a sudden excited buzz from the cabin spaces indicated that the moment had arrived.

They crowded into the great cabin where the president sat with a grim expression, flanked by the gold lace of the seven admirals who had made their judgement.

“Bring in the prisoner.”

Popham entered, his face pale but giving nothing away.

“The court, having maturely considered the nature of the charges, heard all the evidence and having deliberated upon the whole of this case, are of the opinion … that the charges are proved against the said Captain Sir Home Popham.”

He waited for a wave of murmuring to die then continued: “The court is further of the opinion that the conduct of the said Captain Sir Home Popham in withdrawing the whole of the naval force under his command from the Cape of Good Hope and proceeding with it to the Rio de la Plata was highly censurable.

“In consideration of the circumstances, however, the court doth adjudge him to be only severely reprimanded, and he is accordingly severely reprimanded.”

This time there was no holding back the excited babble as a stunned Popham was handed his sword and taken to the door.

As he left, he looked once at Kydd but his expression was unreadable.

The George was abuzz with excitement and speculation but Kydd wanted no part of it.

He called for Tysoe. “I’m returning to London tomorrow. We leave on the first stage.”

“Very good, Sir Thomas.” He moved forward to help Kydd out of his heavy full-dress uniform into the plain brown attire he’d come down in.

“And if you’d find me a whisky …?”

The dull roar from below wafted up in eddies. This had been the court-martial of the age and everyone had a view on it.

He closed the window and sprawled in a brown study.

His thoughts were disturbed by the arrival of Bowden. “The town’s in an uproar, Sir Thomas, and I’d hoped you’d-”

“Come in, dear chap. Care to join me in a whisky?” Kydd said, with false gaiety.

“That’s kind in you, sir,” Bowden said, and took his place in the chair on the opposite side of the fire.

“They’re in quite a taking out there,” he said sombrely, picking up on Kydd’s mood. “Half are declaring it a victory and the other cry it down as a guilty verdict.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I’d be beholden should you share your views with me, sir.”

“My views?” Kydd paused. “Naught that should be shared with a young officer who’s warm to daring and enterprise.”

“Sir?”

“No matter. I’ve the blue devils after that trial.”

“You’re an admirer of Captain Popham, sir?”

“In fine, I’m not. The man is manipulative, uses his cleverness to excess, is too slippery by half. Yet I find any who seizes the chance and dares to reach for glory to the benefit of his country one to applaud.”

“Then how do you accept the verdict?” Bowden asked.

“It’s contrived and it’s political and it’s very neatly done. To his friends he’s weathered the storm-not cashiered, dismissed the service, worse. To his enemies is thrown the satisfaction that he’s found guilty. Has he won? Not at all. The Admiralty have their verdict-and our Captain Popham will, very quietly, never be employed again.”

Bowden looked shocked. “As if he’d been sentenced …”

“Quite.”

Tysoe silently freshened their glasses as they stared together into the fire.

“If I might remark it, sir, at least your yardarm is clear, if you’ll pardon the expression,” Bowden observed.

“As is no credit to myself. After my showing it seems I’m not to be made an accomplice, neither numbered among Captain Popham’s followers, and therefore have my hopes the doughty St Vincent will be contented.”

“To be devoutly desired, I believe.”

“Well, that’s the way of things, young fellow. I’m for London and society tomorrow.” He tossed back the whisky, then remembered that Bowden’s own future was now more than a little problematical. Without a ship … “I do wish you well in the article of finding a berth as lieutenant,” he said, with a twinge of sadness. “You’ve a good record but there’s others, of course.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll always remember my service in L’Aurore, whichever ship I end in.”

“I’m sure you will. I’d offer you a place in my new frigate but it doesn’t even kiss water this year and that kind of time in idleness would not be good for your record.”

“I understand, sir. I … I do have friends in high places,” he said lightly, “who will I’m sure bend every effort. I now bid you farewell, sir,” he said formally, “and pray we will meet again.”

Kydd took his hand. “I’m sure we will. Take care of yourself, younker.”