adventures where our chances of survival were not very great. But I can't recall you ever standing there with a face as long as a yard of cold pump water saying: 'Sir, we're all doomed!''He tried to give his voice the depth and emphasis of a Scottish cleric. 'In fact, I always have the feeling that facing death cheers you up!'
'Ah, but there's a difference,' Aitken said. 'Then we went off knowing we all shared the risks. This time, you're on your own, sir. Every shot will be aimed at you alone.'
There was a shout from on deck, and Aitken said: 'If you'll excuse me sir, it sounds as though that boat has arrived.'
The lieutenant on board had indeed brought another letter for Ramage and when Aitken brought it in Ramage told him to sit down for a few minutes.
Ramage then opened the letter - sealed this time by a wafer with the glue still wet - and nodded. 'Yes, here's the deputy judge advocate. They aren't wasting much time!'
'But why is Captain Shirley charging you? You ought to be bringing him to trial!'
'He's senior, so he gets first whack!' Ramage grinned and then tapped the papers on his desk. 'I haven't read his letter yet, but Their Lordships have sent me a copy of his complaint. I'll read it in a moment. Let's first see what the deputy judge advocate has to say.'
The deputy judge advocate wrote in the stylized way laid down in the manuals:
The Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty having ordered Vice Admiral Sir James Bustard to assemble a court martial to try Captain the Lord Ramage, and it being intended that I shall officiate as deputy judge advocate upon the occasion at the said court martial, which is to be held on board the Salvador del Mundo at Plymouth on Monday next, at nine o'clock in the morning; I send you herewith a copy of the order for the trial on yourself [Ramage noted that the deputy judge advocate had forgotten to enclose it] and am to desire you will be pleased to transmit me a list of the officers and men belonging to the Calypso who are in this port, and of such persons, as you may think proper to call to give evidence in your favour, that they might be summoned to attend accordingly.
He passed the letter to Aitken. 'You've probably never read one of those letters before. Consider it part of your education.'
While the Scotsman read the letter, Ramage read Captain Shirley's asking for a court-martial. It was addressed to Sir James Bustard - did they know each other, or did Shirley know Sir James was the port admiral? Anyway, Sir James must have forwarded it to the Admiralty (by one of the special messengers who left for London every evening on horseback, passing on the way similar messengers who left the Admiralty every evening).
Shirley's letter was well written and set out his complaint clearly and Ramage admitted ruefully to himself that both Sir James and the Board, reading the letter, would have no hesitation in ordering a court-martial.
Shirley began by referring to his orders and giving the date he left Barbados. He referred to sighting the Calypso as she bore northwards for England, and then went on to relate how the Calypso had come alongside, using grapnels. Her men, led by an officer later identified as Captain Ramage, had then boarded the Jason and Captain Ramage had taken command . . .
Shirley explained that he had recognized the Calypso and seen that she was escorting a convoy, so he was completely unprepared for such an attack. Captain Ramage had then removed him from his command, giving no reason, put one of his lieutenants on board and ordered the lieutenant, by name Wagstaffe, to keep station astern of the convoy and to leeward of the Calypso. The Jason had been forced to comply with these orders until near the Lizard, when the Jason's, commanding officer (Ramage allowed himself a wry smile at this description: Wagstaffe's version would, no doubt, be quite different) had managed to crowd on sail, ignoring Wagstaffe, and arrived in Plymouth safely. Shirley went on to say that Captain Ramage had given no explanation for his actions, although when he first boarded the Jason he was warned at once that his behaviour was in defiance of certain Articles of War, which were cited.
However, Captain Ramage had only laughed in reply and said he had a large convoy to defend and a long way to go with not enough frigates, so the Jason was needed to help. 'I warned him that he would be called to account once the convoy arrived in Britain,' Shirley wrote, 'but he just laughed like a madman. His behaviour at all times while on board the Jason,' Shirley added artfully, 'was such as to raise very serious doubts about his sanity, and had the Jason's surgeon not unfortunately died a week or so earlier, the surgeon would have been instructed to examine Captain Ramage to ascertain his fitness for command of the Calypso and advise me what steps were necessary to ensure that the King's Service should be properly carried out.'
Ramage sighed because it was a clever letter. No wonder Sir James sent it straight on to the Admiralty, and no wonder Their Lordships promptly ordered a trial. Their Lordships must be shaking their heads and saying, yes, young Ramage has done splendid service in the past, but one of those wounds - perhaps that glancing musket ball that caught his head at Curaçao (and where the hair growing round the scar was always a tiny white tuft) - had finally put him in a position where he was no longer responsible for his actions.
Well, the Board were not at fault: they did not know Shirley was mad. They might not know about the sycophantic Goddard, either. But he and the Yorkes were mistaken in thinking that the advantage would be with the writer of the second letter to reach the Admiralty: Their Lordships must have already ordered his trial before his letter had gone on shore.
'This deputy judge advocate hasn't wasted much time,' Aitken commented.
'No, they give me enough time to read the Admiralty's letter and Shirley's complaint, and then the deputy judge advocate's letter arrives with the wafer still wet. Seems more like malice over at the port admiral's office rather than the efficiency of his staff.'
'We can anticipate some more pettiness, I expect,' Aitken commented. 'I must make sure our boats' crews obey all the port regulations when they go on shore. Luckily Southwick brought back a copy of the Plymouth 'Port Orders', so we can carry out flag signals promptly. Thank goodness we are not having any work done in the Dockyards - the 'Daily Report' on progress has twenty-five headings and a 'Remarks' column, so a dockyard commissioner can always find fault somewhere and complain to the admiral.'
'Yes, we're all going to have to tread carefully. I'm sorry I've made it difficult for everyone.'
'Captain Shirley, not you, sir,' Aitken corrected. 'Now, sir, can I help you draw up that list of witnesses?'
Ramage thought for a few moments. 'I'd prefer you to draw up a separate list, then we can compare them: that way, we're less likely to forget anyone. And listen, Aitken, think about this. They - Shirley and his cronies - seem to be in a hurry. There might be some reason, or it might just be the excitement of the chase. We can't slow up the proceedings (anyway I don't want to prolong all this nonsense), but let's see if we can't find some advantage in it, too.'
Aitken nodded his head slowly. 'Aye, I take your meaning, sir. They're up to windward of us, but we must try and make that to our advantage.'
Ramage saw no reason why he had to be discreet in the present situation. 'If you're unarmed and a man suddenly attacks you with a knife, I reckon you're justified in using unorthodox methods to defend yourself. 'Turning the other cheek' doesn't help!'
Aitken grinned for the first time that day. 'Aye, I like that word 'unorthodox' - it has a pleasant unorthodox ring about it!'
After Aitken left the cabin, Ramage read through all the letters again. His defence. Well, all he had was the truth, though that might not count for much if Admiral Goddard was president of the court.
Time . . . yes, time was an enemy because he had no time to get his father and the Marquis to work at persuading Lord St Vincent to transfer the trial to, say, Portsmouth, with another president. But the more he thought about that - realizing it would take ten days or a fortnight to get a letter to London and the reply back to Plymouth - the more he understood how they were weighed down with Sarah's disappearance.
His father's letter made it clear that there was no news and how despondent they were. The Marquis must be distraught: he and Sarah were very close.
Now, burdened with worry over Sarah, it would crush them all to find Sarah's husband was in grave danger from the Articles of War. A week or more - the trial should be all over before news reached London. That decided him: no appeal to his father for help - the old man had suffered enough when that past government put him on trial - and no appeal to the Marquis. He would fight with the weapons he had. It did not do to think too much about the calibre of those!
Ramage and Sidney Yorke stood by the entryport as the chair with Alexis in it was hoisted up from the boat, swung inboard and gently lowered until it was just in front of Ramage. As Jackson and Stafford held it steady, Ramage stepped forward to flip back the wooden bar which held her secure, helped her step out on to the deck and, as Jackson swung the chair back out of the way, saluted her gravely. She curtseyed. 'Good day, Captain, I trust my brother has already asked if our visit is discommoding you?'
'He has indeed.'
'And what was your answer?'
Ramage was still standing close enough to her that by dropping his voice only she could hear his reply. 'That your visit was very ill-timed because I was sitting in my cabin so miserable that I was thinking of doing away with myself!'
She laughed and said in a normal tone: 'Oh good, as long as we have not interrupted anything of importance!'
With them seated in the cabin, Yorke said as soon as the sentry had shut the door: 'We have been hearing a rumour.'
'It is probably true. What does it say?'
'Leave the rumour for the moment. We have just heard officially that the convoy sails tomorrow with the London, Hull and Leith ships, and you are not named as the commander of the escort, nor is the Calypso mentioned.'
When Ramage nodded, Yorke continued: 'The rumour – which I don't mind telling you is upsetting all the masters considerably - is that you are being court- martialled at the instance of the captain of the Jason.'
Ramage pointed at the papers on his desk. 'That's not a rumour, I'm afraid. The Admiralty has ordered the trial and the date is already fixed - for the beginning of next week.'
'But... but what about witnesses?' Alexis said angrily. 'All the convoy will have sailed and the masters want to give evidence on your behalf!'
'That rumour-which-is-not-a-rumour is not the only one,' Yorke said. 'I hear that our old friend Goddard is the rear-admiral here. Does that mean ... ?'
As Ramage nodded, Alexis exclaimed: 'Goddard? Who is this Goddard? Why do the pair of you have such long faces? Are you frightened of him?'
'Yes and no,' Ramage said, and quietly explained to her how Goddard had entered his life, toadying to the old ministers and currying favour by attacking the Earl of Blazey's son.
'Sidney,' Alexis said firmly. 'We let the Emerald sailtomorrow with the convoy, and we move on shore to an inn. The King's Arms, I think; I refuse to stay at the Prince George - I dislike Foxhole Street and the place is always full of noisy shipmasters and foreigners.'
Yorke agreed but warned that after so many weeks at sea, it would take a few days to find their land legs.
Alexis pointed at the papers on Ramage's desk. 'Why are you so sure that this Goddard man will preside at the trial?'
'In Plymouth there is a port admiral,' Ramage explained. 'He is Vice-Admiral Sir James Bustard. I know nothing about him except he's getting on in years. He has a house - just near Mount Wise and the Telegraph, and just across the Parade from Government House.
'Then there is a rear-admiral, who is the second-in-command. His main purpose in life is to preside at courts-martial. In a big port like Plymouth there are trials almost every day and they're held on board the Salvador del Mundo, an old prize which is well suited for the purpose.'
