Sailing Master, Mr. Winwood, had used, and had an artist or sign painter do up a large-scale version in full colour; pale blue wash for ocean, rocky shoals in grey, sand bars in tan, and land in pale green, with forests and fields done in a darker green. A topographic map of the plantations in question surely must have come from Jamaica, as well, for the Beaumans', and Cashman's, plantings were delineated quite accurately, right down to the locations of the houses, barns, and slave quarters; all of them neatly labelled, as was the beach where the ship's boats had grounded; and all distances from specific points clearly marked, corresponding to a distance scale in the lower left corner.
'At this point, my lord, I call Lieutenant Adair to testify,' MacDougall intoned, going all solemn, now that he was at the meat of the matter.
MacDougall worked his way down through the Commission officers to Mr. Winwood, and the Purser, Mr. Coote, showing how the 'crime' was committed. Sir George Norman sat mum at his table through it all, a befuddled and seemingly disinterested air about him. Under English Common Law, he had no right to cross-examine witnesses, and, with no witnesses of his own to present in rebuttal, his continued presence was merely decorative.
Yet MacDougall did not stick to the distances, the times, or the particular actions that Lewrie's juniors had performed that night; to Lt. Adair, he posed the question of what he heard and saw on shore.
Had the other slaves been celebrating?
'They were, sir,' Adair stated. 'I was fearful that their cries might rouse the overseers.' The form of it? 'Tears, and hugging, and handshaking, sir. Joy and sadness, mixed. Soft singing, and such.'
'And once into the boats and making your way back to Proteus, sir, did anything odd occur?' MacDougall asked.
'We heard barking, sir,' Lt. Adair answered. 'At first, I imagined that the overseers and their dogs were near the beach, but in a short time, we discovered that the barking came from seals, sir.'
'Seals, Lieutenant Adair?' MacDougall said, striking a surprised pose, obviously with foreknowledge of what Adair would say. 'In the West Indies? Are they not hunted out?'
'It was… eerie, sir,' Adair declared. 'Aye, seals are rare in those seas, but that night, they appeared all round us. Every man at the oars saw them, and commented on them. A dozen or more of them, swimming about our boats, just beyond the reach of the oars, right to the ship's side, sir, where the rest of the crew saw and heard them, as well.'
'And what did you make of that, sir?' MacDougall crooned.
'God's blessing 'pon our action, sir,' Lt. Adair solemnly said, then smiled. 'Captain Lewrie and seals, well sid, 'als, wellr… 'tis mysterious how often seals have appeared in warning or… almost approval, sir, just before Captain Lewrie went into a fight. For so is the rumour in the Fleet about him, d'ye see, sir. A minor miracle, some say.'
Did the dozen slaves sign aboard willingly? Were they fed and clothed, kitted, and paid, the same as any English sailor? Were any of them troublemakers, drunkards, discipline problems; were any of the Black sailors stupid, were any of them cowards? MacDougall asked him.
Willingly, aye; treated the same as any volunteer; very little trouble from any of them; the usual binges on runs ashore, which were rare, same as British tars; illiterate, but not stupid, for many went on from Landsman to Ordinary Seaman, two had been rated Able in short time, and, there were certainly no cowards among them. The runaways were as brave as lions, every Man Jack, Lt. Adair could swear.
Lt. Gamble and Midshipman Grace reiterated Adair's high opinion of them, whilst Mr. Winwood told of their muster-aboard baths under a wash-deck pump and hose, which he likened to their baptism into a new life; how little they'd been told of Christianity, and the sacrifice and resurrection of the Saviour (which had many a lady in the courtroom dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief) and how he had taken it on himself to minister to their spiritual needs and education, seeing as how HMS Proteus did not, at that time, rate a Chaplain willing to ship to the Fever Isles of the West Indies.
'Are you conversant with slavery laws in the Crown colonies, Mister Winwood?' MacDougall finally asked.
'Somewhat, sir. More so now, than previous,' Winwood intoned in his sober and ponderous manner; and frowned when his comment was taken as slightly humourous by the spectators.
'What charge may be laid against a slave who runs away from his master or mistress, Mister Winwood?' MacDougall pressed.
'Uhm… that, since he is not a free man, sir, only property,… not reckoned a man at all, really… that he is guilty of stealing himself, I believe,' Winwood replied.
'Guilty of stealing himself?' MacDougall pretended consternation in a loud voice. 'And the punishment would be what? An hundred lashes? Pilloried in the stocks? Branded? His hamstrings cut so he may only limp? A foot cut off with an axe?'
'I have heard-tell that one, or all, of those punishments are awarded, sir,' Mr. Winwood agreed in grave sadness, shaking his head sorrowfully. 'A second unsuccessful attempt may result in death by the lash, or being hung.'
'Do civilised people do such to cows that stray, horses that take the bitt 'tween their teeth and gallop?' MacDougall posed. 'To a dog that piddles on carpet? A cat which climbs a tree?'
'Indeed not, sir!' Winwood said.
'Yet many slaves do risk such punishments each year, do they not, Mister Winwood? Steal themselves and run… on Jamaica, to the so-called Cockpit Country… to the Blue Mountains, and the jungles, don't they? What do they call them, Mister Winwood?'
'They do, sir. They call them Maroons,' Winwood answered.
'Do you believe that Captain Lewrie is a thief, Mister Winwood? One who received stolen property for his own use, sir?'
'No, sir. In this instance, I would call him a Christian gentleman,' the Sailing Master somberly replied, turning to look the men of the jury in the eyes. 'You might as well put me on trial, for what we did that night… I only wish we'd had a ship of the line, 'stead of a frigate, in need of hands, and taken all of them away.'
MacDougall paced back towards the Defence table, but paused in midstride and whipped about. 'One last question of you, sir… If, under Jamaican slave law, the Blacks in this matter stole themselves, who, then, used them for his own purposes, Mister Winwood… Captain Alan Lewrie, or King George the Third, in whose service twelve brave Black men willingly volunteered, and five of whom have perished?'
'Now, I must object, milud!' Sir George Norman cried, shooting to his feet, roused from his nodding stupor at last. 'The witness is a Warrant Officer in the Navy, not a legal scholar, and cannot form a legal judgement, in the first instance, and… for honoured counsel for the Defence to suggest that his Majesty shares any guilt in this crime is abominable and shameful, in the second!'
'Withdrawn, my lord,' MacDougall offered, hiding his amusement. 'I have no more questions for this witness.'
'The insult to the Crown, milud!' Sir George pressed.
'Mister MacDougall,' Lord Justice Oglethorpe said with a dyspeptic scowl or warning, 'you are known for frippery in court, but let me caution you to eschew any suggestion of lиse-majestй against our Sovereign.'
'The question is withdrawn, my lord,' MacDougall said, looking a trifle hurt, like a boy caught skylarking and called down for it. 'An injudicious phrase, when the proper statement might have been the Royal Navy, or Great Britain, which prospered from the services of the sailors in question, rather than our King. I stand admonished, milord.'
'Very well, then. You have more witnesses?' Oglethorpe asked.
'I do, my lord.'
'It is now nearly a quarter to twelve,' the Lord Justice said, 'so we shall adjourn for dinner. Proceedings shall resume this afternoon, at half past one.'
'All rise!' the chief bailiff intoned.
Once Oglethorpe had left the courtroom, Lewrie came down from the raised and railed dock to join MacDougall, who was shedding his peruke and putting it in a small wood box, and shrugging out of his robes. 'A deuced good morning, sir,' MacDougall told him, all smiles and high spirits. 'A splendid beginning. Imagine! A trial that will take all day, why, we'll be the talk of the town by supper, and atop the front pages of all the papers by tomorrow morning, ha ha! Hungry, are you, Captain Lewrie? There's a delightful chop-house not a five minutes' stroll from here.'
'Aye, I s'pose,' Lewrie allowed. 'You think we did well?'
