Flash For Freedom!

recently released from their shackles — as he understood it this had been done by Lieutenant Comber, R.N., who was aboard the ship ostensibly as one of the crew, although in fact he was a British naval officer. Lieutenant Comber would testify that it had been the intention of the master of the Balliol College to drown these slaves, and so remove all evidence.

There was a great humming in the court at this, and many glances in my direction, including a genial smile from Anderson and a glare from Spring. The adjudicator banged his desk for quiet, and Clitheroe went on to describe how the Balliol College crew had been arrested, and the ship brought into New Orleans for adjudication. He sat down, and Anderson got up.

'An interesting statement,' says he. 'A pity that we cannot cross-examine the deponent, since he isn't here. However, may I point out that the statement takes us no further so far as the status of the coloured people on board the Balliol College is concerned. Negroes were found —'

'And slave shackles, sir,' says Clitheroe.

'Granted, sir, but the precise relation of one to the other is not determined by the statement. No doubt my friend, having delivered the statement which is the basis of his case, will call witnesses in due course. May I now enter my client's answer to the statement?'

Clitheroe nodded, the adjudicator snapped: 'Proceed,' and at Anderson's request one of the clerks swore Spring in to testify. Then Anderson said:

'Tell us, Captain Spring, of your voyage in the Balliol College prior to and including the events in question.'

Spring glanced at the adjudicator, came to his feet, and leaned his hands on the table. The harsh grating voice took me back at once — I could smell the Balliol College again, and feel the hot sun beating down on my head.

'I sailed from Brest, in France, with a cargo of trade goods for the Dahomey coast,' says he. 'There we exchanged them for a general cargo of native produce, largely palm oil, which I conveyed to Roatan, in the Bay Islands. Thence I was proceeding in ballast for Havana, when I was intercepted by an American brig and sloop, who without justification that I could see, ordered me to heave to and fired upon me. I resisted, and my ship was presently boarded by these Navy pirates, who seized my ship, my person, and my crew!' His voice was rising, and the red scar burning. 'We were carried in chains to New Orleans — I myself had been grievously wounded in defence of my ship, and I have since been held here, my ship confined, and myself and my owners deprived of its use, with subsequent loss to ourselves. I have protested in the strongest terms at this illegal detention, for which an accounting will be demanded not only of the person involved, but of his government.' And in true Spring fashion he growled: 'Qui facit per alium facit per se*[* What a man does through another, he does himself.] holds as good in American law as in any other, I dare say. That I was carrying slaves in contravention of this country's enactments I emphatically deny —'

'My dear sir, my dear captain.' This was Anderson. 'May I anticipate my friend's question: if this is so, why did you not heave to when required, and permit a search of your vessel? Then all might have been easily resolved.'

Spring made noises in his throat. 'Do I have to tell an American court, of all places? I responded to a signal to heave to, from an American vessel, in precisely the manner in which an American captain would have replied to a similar demand from a British naval ship. In short, sir, I defied it.'

There was a great shout of laughter from the public benches, and feet drummed on the floor in applause. The little adjudicator hammered his desk, and when all was fairly quiet Anderson asked:

'As the British captain of a Mexican vessel you saw no reason to heave to — quite so. You know, Captain Spring, it has been suggested that your vessel is not Mexican owned. I believe my friend may wish to pursue the matter?' And he invited Clitheroe with a cocked eyebrow.

So Clitheroe set about Spring — he threw names at him, American, British and French; he pointed out that the Balliol College was Baltimore-built and originally Yankee-owned; he put it to Spring that the papers now set before the adjudicator, showing Mexican ownership, were forgeries and makeshift. Why, he demanded, if Spring were an honest merchantman, had his wife thrown the ship's papers overboard?

'When I am attacked by pirates, sir,' says Spring, 'I do not permit my papers to fall into their hands. How do I know that they might not be falsified and tampered with to be used against me? Here is a whole trumped-up business anyway — to suggest that I am a slaver, without a rag of proof, and to badger me with nonsense about my papers!' He pointed to the adjudicator's desk. 'My papers are there, sir — certified, vouched copies! Look at them, sir, litera scripta manet,*[* The written letter remains (as evidence).] and get on to the point of your inquisition, if it has one!'

It seemed to me he was playing the bulldog British skipper a thought too hard for safety, but the public were with him, crying, 'hear, hear' until the adjudicator had to call them to order. Clitheroe shrugged and smiled.

'By all means, captain, since you desire it. I pass from the matter of ownership, which is secondary, to the heart of the matter. Since you are fond of tags, let's see if you remain quite so rectus in curia*[* Upright in the court.] when I ask —'

The adjudicator hammered his desk again. 'I'll be obliged if you'll both speak English,' cries he. 'Most of us are familiar with the classics, but not on that account will I permit this adjudication to be conducted in Latin. Proceed.'

Clitheroe bowed. 'Captain Spring, you say you brought palm oil from Dahomey to Roatan — an unusual cargo. Why then was your ship rigged with slave shelves?'

'Slave shelves, as you call them, are a convenient way of stowing palm oil panniers,' says Spring. 'Ask any merchant skipper.'

'And they're also convenient for stowing slaves?'

'Are they?' says Spring. 'May I point out that the shelves were not rigged when my ship was seized — when you say I was running slaves.'

'I shall come to those same slaves, if you please,' says Clitheroe. 'There were, according to the affidavit we have heard, negroes aboard your ship — about a dozen women. They were found on deck, with slave shackles beside them. Evidence will be given that they had been chained, and that you had been preparing to cast them overboard, to destroy the evidence of your crime.' He paused, and there wasn't a sound in court. 'You are on oath, Captain Spring. Who were those women?'

Spring stuck out his jaw, considering. Then he answered, and the words hit the court like a thunderclap.

'Those women,' says he deliberately, 'were slaves.'

Clitheroe gaped at him. There was a gasp from the public benches and then a great tumult, hushed at last by the adjudicator, who now turned to Spring.

'You admit you were carrying slaves?'

'I've never denied it.' Spring was quite composed.

'Well —' The adjudicator looked about him. 'Permit me, sir, but I have been in error. I thought that was what your counsel had been vigorously denying on your behalf.'

Anderson got to his feet. 'Not precisely, sir. May I suggest that my client be allowed to stand down for the moment, while the court digests his statement and reflects upon it? In the meantime, perhaps my friend will continue with his case.'

'Frankly, sir,' says Clitheroe, 'it seems my case is made, I move for an order of confiscation and condemnation against the Balliol College, proved to be a slave-trader on her own master's word.'

'Not quite proved,' says Anderson. 'If I may invite my friend to provide the corroboration which he doubtless has at command?'

Clitheroe looked at the adjudicator, and the adjudicator shrugged, and Clitheroe shuffled his papers and muttered to Dunne. For the life of me I couldn't fathom it; Spring appeared to have thrown away, with those words, his case, his ship, his liberty — perhaps even his neck. It made no sense — not to the public or the adjudicator or to me. The one thing I prayed for now was that my evidence wouldn't be needed.

Clitheroe didn't like it; you could see, by the way he shot looks across at Anderson, that he smelled a rat. But Anderson sat smug and smiling, and presently Clitheroe shrugged ill-humouredly and picked up his papers.

'If the adjudicator wishes, I shall continue,' says he. 'But I confess I don't see the point of it.'

The adjudicator peered at Anderson, thoughtfully. 'Perhaps it would be as well, Mr Clitheroe.'