HMS Belvidera - 31. Chapter 31

April, 1796

Reeve left, and was gone not more than ten minutes when the other captains were summoned to join him in Sir John Jervis’ cabin. Granger filed in after the others, as befitted the junior member of the court.

“I have been hearing the report of this court martial,” Jervis said with a scowl. “Damnable business.” No one said anything. “What verdict will you reach?”

“We haven’t discussed it yet, Sir John,” Reeve said in a respectful and subdued manner. Granger almost smiled. They’d learned to fear Jervis in the six months he’d been in command, but while they may fear him, they evidently hadn’t caught on to his preference for direct answers and quick decisions.

“Do you think these men are guilty as charged?” he asked.

No one said anything, which Granger thought was awfully cowardly, so he finally spoke up. “No sir, as clear as can be determined, they are innocent.”

“As clear as can be determined?” Jervis asked. “Do the rest of you have any doubts?”

“No, sir,” the other captains chimed, one by one.

“Then I would request that you consider the affair of Captain Haynes,” Jervis said.

“You want us to court martial Captain Haynes, sir?” Reeve asked. “There’s been no time to prepare.”

“How would his testimony now be any different from his testimony later?” Granger asked Reeve.

“I hope to God if I’m ever court-martialed, you’re not on my court,” Douglas remarked acidly.

“Are you suggesting, Captain, that we should overlook a man’s neglect of duty merely because he is one of our colleagues?” Granger asked. “I think we’ve been very fair. Asking tough questions, and hearing witnesses, is what we are supposed to be about. Or was this intended to be a whitewash?”

“Not with you on the court,” snarled Wells.

“And if Captain Granger were not on the panel, Captain Wells, would this have been a whitewash, where a guilty captain remains in his ship and four innocent men are hanged?” Jervis asked crisply.

“That’s not what would have happened, sir,” Reeve said reassuringly.

“I think if you review the minutes, Sir John, you will find that is exactly what would have happened,” Granger said boldly, getting some rather vicious stares from the others.

“Then I will indeed review them,” Jervis said. “If you gentlemen cannot fairly administer and execute a court martial proceeding, I will ensure that you get another chance to prove you can. Perhaps in the Far East.” They gasped.

“There was no malice intended, sir,” Reeve said as the senior.

“You will go back into your trial and render a verdict, and then you will recall Captain Haynes, Lieutenant Hastings, and Mr. Evans, and issue charges against them. Then you may render a verdict in their cases. That will complete your assignment.”

“Will that be considered a fair trial, sir?” Rowley asked. Granger thought it was very daring of him, and possibly unwise, to question Jervis like that.

“I have a sizeable French fleet to watch, the Spaniards just chomping at the bit to get into this war, a French army smashing the Italians everywhere, and you want to waste more time on a man who can’t even put his ship through the simplest of fleet maneuvers?” Jervis bellowed.

“We will follow your orders, sir,” Reeve said, trying to gloss things over. The five captains shuffled out of Jervis’ cabin and headed down to the proceedings.

“You are apparently as good at making enemies as you are at making friends,” Douglas snarled at Granger.

“I am not afraid of Captain Haynes and Lieutenant Hastings, Captain. Are you?” Granger asked.

“I wasn’t talking about them; I was talking about the four or us.”

Granger eyed them all coldly. “I suspect, gentlemen, that after you have time to ponder these events, you will find that you were victims of a misguided perception: A perception that your loyalty to your friend was more important than the effectiveness of his ship, and this fleet. I would submit that once you grapple with that, you will see the value of what Sir John is trying to achieve, and will feel well-pleased with yourselves.”

They looked at him, puzzled, and then Reeve led them back into the cabin. Reeve took his place at the head of the table and re-convened the proceedings. Granger eyed the four accused men, and saw sheer terror in their eyes. “This court has reviewed all the evidence presented to it, and hereby dismisses all charges against the accused.” Granger could not help but smile as the four men went through a similar series of reactions. First, they seemed to be in disbelief, stunned at the favorable verdict. Then they were overtaken by glee, by sheer joy, as they realized their lives could go on, and that they would be spared a noose around their neck, or almost as bad, having their backs flogged until they wished they were dead. Then finally, decorum asserted itself and they adopted a more respectful pose, with their rapture barely concealed beneath their expressions.

Reeve then shocked the spectators by announcing that they would consider charges against Haynes, Hastings, and Evans. Three lieutenants were sent to notify the men that they were being charged, to keep them sequestered, and to announce that the trial would re-convene at 1:00pm. Grey graciously hosted them to a marvelous dinner in the interim.

Haynes was called first. He was remarkably consistent with his testimony. The others seemed bothered by it, but Granger did not. He recognized that Haynes had memorized and internalized his lies. After all, he had probably been too drunk to remember what had actually happened. His imagined mutiny might have become his memory of the event. Granger listened as Haynes relived that evening in his mind, acting as if he were authoritatively standing on his quarterdeck. His words, including the slurs he directed at the now-innocent men, were uniform. He was executing a well-rehearsed script, and unless something was done to knock him off track, it was entirely likely his fellow captains would acquit him.

“Captain, where was Lieutenant Hastings when these events unfolded?” Granger asked him, interrupting his well-prepared train of thought.

“He was at my side, as a good First Lieutenant should be,” Haynes said, jarred from his soliloquy.

“There seems to be some question about that,” Granger observed. “We have heard testimony that placed him below as well. Are you sure about that?”

“I’m fairly certain,” Haynes said, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“You don’t know whether your first lieutenant was there or not?” Douglas asked, an accusation as much as a question.

“I said I was certain that he was,” Haynes snapped.

“No, you said you were fairly certain,” Granger observed.

“This court requires a definitive answer,” Reeve said severely.

“He was there, on deck, with me,” Haynes said.

The wind had been moderate, from the south, according to previous testimony. “Captain, what direction was the wind on the night of the 14th?”

“Moderate breezes from the northeast,” he said quickly, as if an afterthought.

“The ship’s logs, and previous testimony, as well as those records from other ships, indicated that it was from the south,” Reeve noted.

“I’m trying to give testimony, and you’re trying to trick me with details,” Haynes said, starting to come unhinged.

“Captain, it is hardly trivial as to whether the wind was from the northeast or from the south, and it is hardly trivial as to whether your first lieutenant was on deck,” Rowley noted.

Haynes just stared at him, his mind slowly starting to unravel with his story. Granger moved in for the coup de gras. “Mr. Evans has told us that you demanded a 50% share of all savings he was able to elicit from victualing changes.”

“And I told him I wouldn’t take a farthing less than 25%!” Haynes snarled. The cabin was silent, as they all stared at Haynes, who suddenly seemed to realize what he’d done. “They were out for me! They all were!” He had become unhinged now. He lunged at the table as if intending to leap over it, but two marines restrained him. “Tell me you don’t do that! Tell me you don’t pocket anything extra from provisioning your ships!”

“As a matter of fact,” Reeve said calmly, “I actually spend my own money, not the other way around.”

“As do I,” Rowley said. Granger did to, but he felt no need to say so. Wells and Douglas looked ahead blankly, whether it was because they did not contribute to the welfare of their crews, or whether they were skimming money, Granger didn’t know.

“You may remove the accused,” Reeve snapped at the marines. They hauled Haynes out, kicking and screaming. Hastings and Evans were similarly tripped up, although to their credit, they retained a more confident and unruffled demeanor.

The court finally adjourned to consider the evidence, and made use of Jervis’ dining cabin, per his generous offer.

“Well it is clear they were all guilty,” Reeve stated, as they sat down. “Or do any of you share a different view?”

The four other captains all concurred with a simple nod. “He’s not the man I knew,” Douglas said, speaking of Haynes.

“Or perhaps we never really knew the man he was?” Wells asked philosophically.

“We must render a sentence with our verdict,” Reeve said.

“Can we have them shot?” Rowley asked.

“That may be a bit extreme,” Reeve said, with a slight grin.

“If I may suggest, dismissing them from the service would seem to be an apt punishment. It will disgrace them, and as dishonorable men they would not be received in influential circles,” Granger said. He watched that resonate. It was rare for a post-captain not to have at least a few friends, and those friends could be dangerous if properly motivated. If Haynes, Hastings, and Evans were dishonored, their friends would not be obligated or feel compelled to support them.

“And it would save His Majesty some money,” Wells remarked. Dismissing them would remove their half pay. Officers received half their pay when not on active duty, and for many that was the difference between subsistence and starvation.

“Then we are agreed?” Reeve asked. All of the captains acknowledged their agreement verbally.

The court was called into session, and the three men were shuffled in. They glared at each other, each wondering who had exposed their lies. “This court has evaluated the charges against you and found you guilty as charged,” Reeve said bloodlessly. “It is the recommendation of this court that you be dismissed from His Majesty’s Navy, with no residual honors or benefits of the rank you once held.”

Haynes’ eyes bulged. “When I get back to London, you’ll find you made a grave error. I’ll make sure to make all your lives a living hell!” he shouted.

“I doubt that, Captain,” Granger said, knowing that he had to take this final step, that he had to set himself up to bear the brunt of Haynes’ anger, as well as the anger of Hastings and Evans. “When you return to England, it will be as a dishonored man. You will not be welcomed into polite company, and your presence will be shunned by those who are meaningful enough to have influence.”

Haynes stared at him, glaring, while Hastings looked absolutely horrified, the reality only now bursting in on him. Evans seemed to take it in stride. He came from a lower social class, and for him, money was more important than honor or connections. The marines hauled them out of the cabin, while Reeve dismissed the court. They went up to report to Jervis.

“I think you gentlemen have done a fine job here,” Jervis said to them. “I have always maintained that to have a good, well-disciplined fleet, I must have the ultimate confidence in my captains. But that also means I must have good captains.”

“Yes, Sir John,” Reeve said, speaking for them.

“Men like Haynes must be weeded out lest they damage the fleet and the nation. Ponder this, gentlemen. The Incredible, under Captain Haynes: is that the kind of ship you would want to rely on when we battle the French?”

“No, sir,” Reeve said.

“As I said, I think you did good work here. I will tell Lord Spencer that, and convey to his lordship my most fervent endorsement of your verdict,” Jervis said.

“Thank you, sir,” Reeve said, and they all filed out. Now that the court was done, normal discipline and precedence re-asserted itself. Their boats arrived to collect them in order of seniority.

“You did quite the job there, Granger,” Reeve said, somewhat acidly.

“Thank you, sir,” Granger said, choosing to take it as a compliment.

“I will ponder your words,” Douglas said with a smile. Granger smiled back, his most charming smile. They all shook hands, signifying the nasty business was over, and indicating that there were no hard feelings among them.

Granger was relieved to descend into his gig, and even more relieved to return to his ship. It was as much his home as Portland Place or Brentwood. Roberts was waiting to meet him, beaming with a broad grin.

“So the news about the trial has spread?” Granger asked.

“Yes, sir, complete with some very spirited raves about the most junior member of the court,” Roberts said. Granger looked around the deck and saw Robey, Carslake and Somers grinning as well. Gruff captains would have dismissed them and given them something else to do, but these men were proud of him, and proud of the honor he’d brought to their ship.

“I was but one member,” Granger said. “I suspect the others just needed a gentle prod.”

“That’s not the story we heard, begging your pardon, sir. That’s not what they said” Robey asserted.

“Indeed? And what exactly did ‘they’ say?” Granger asked.

“They said the other captains were going to whitewash Captain Haynes, but you made them look at the facts, sir,” Somers chimed in.

Granger found he was irritated at that, because it would make the other four captains look like idiots, and he’d felt that he’d repaired his bridges with them, at least partially. “Well you all know better than to believe fleet gossip,” he said. “Call me if I am needed.”

Granger went below to his cabin and Winkler was there, as always, to take his coat, his breeches, his waistcoat, and his shoes. He guided his weary captain into bed, and let him get a few precious hours of sleep.

It had been a week since the trial, and rumors continued to fly around the fleet. Captain Haynes, Lieutenant Hastings, and Evans had been consigned to one of the transports. Having disgorged their precious cargo, they had already left for the voyage home. With any luck, Granger thought, they’d encounter a powerful French force and it would kill the three of them. It would be a merciful death. Granger found himself trying to contemplate life as a disgraced and dishonored man, and it was too painful to even consider. Perhaps they’d encounter that French force and do something especially heroic to earn back their honor. Granger didn’t see the latter as being very likely, considering the personalities of Haynes, Hastings, and Evans.

One of Jervis’ favorites had taken command of the Incredible, and a new lieutenant had gotten the nod to go over as well, and from there the inevitable upward promotional stream would flow, providing benefits to those blessed with influence, good timing, or simply luck.

Granger stood on the quarterdeck in his second-best uniform and allowed his eyes to scan the Mediterranean Fleet as it sailed along in perfect order, in perfect precision. He chafed at being tied to the fleet, at having his freedom of movement limited by these slow and hulking ships of the line, and at having to appear in at least his second-best uniform, lest Jervis should train his glass on Belvidera and find her officers in less than proper regalia. He carefully eyed their position, making sure he was placed approximately three miles due south from Victory, in his proper patrol area. He was the southern arm of the fleet’s picketing frigates.

Granger studied the Victory carefully, watching her perfect sail drill. It would not be easy to be Jervis’ flag captain. Granger had served Hood as one of his Flag Lieutenants. Hood wasn’t easy to work for either, but pleasing him would be child’s play compared to working for Jervis. He saw signals fly up her main mast and almost sighed. Signals seemed to fly constantly from her; such was the work of managing a large fleet at sea. He didn’t pay particular attention to what they said; Clifton and Gatling between them had proven their worth. Their attentiveness allowed Granger to ignore the trivial details of routine fleet orders.

“Sir,” Gatling chirped. It was a sunny day, a beautiful spring day, and the weather seemed to brighten him up more than normal. It seemed that even his brown hair was cheerful, glistening in the sun. “Flagship is signaling: Flag to Belvidera, close with Flag.”

“Acknowledge, Mr. Gatling. Mr. Robey, call the watch. Lively now!” Granger walked over to the quarterdeck rail as Belvidera burst into action. “Shake out the reefs, and set her on the starboard tack.”

Granger watched, impressed and proud, as his men dashed up the masts and out onto the yards, loosing the reefs in the sails. He imagined the older captains like Douglas and Rowley watching Belvidera intently, looking for an error, or a delay, but this time they’d find no fault. The maneuver was handled perfectly.

Belvidera seemed to spring to life as she surged forward, cutting through the water at what Granger estimated to be at least 10 knots. He looked over at Robey and they grinned at each other, enjoying this temporary freedom. Belvidera was truly a magnificent sailor. It seemed as if they were up to the Victory in no time at all. Granger looked down at his second best uniform and decided he’d have to wear that one. It would be proper for him to put on his best uniform, but he decided it was more important for him to manage the final stage of their maneuver himself. He feared that Jervis would be watching, and he didn’t want to be seen going below when it came time to put Belvidera alongside Victory, just like Hastings had done on Incredible. In the end, he decided not to worry about his uniform. Besides, Jervis may not want to see him; he may just plan to send orders over to him.

“Larboard a point,” Granger ordered the helm, aiming Belvidera at an imaginary point just forward of the flagship. He wondered what new devilment Jervis had planned for him. Maybe he’d be sent back to England? Granger forced himself not to grin at the thought of that. Maybe he’d be sent to the Levant, to escort the convoy assembling there. He put that aside. That’s where Travers and Aurore had gone three weeks ago. He allowed his mind free rein to speculate, knowing that it had to be something. Jervis didn’t go signaling his ships to close with the flagship for no reason at all.

Granger waited until he was a cable’s length away, and then ordered the helm to larboard, and had the mainsail backed to take some way off of her, neatly putting his ship on a parallel course to the Victory with half a cable between them. He could almost feel the jealousy from the other captains in their clumsy ships of the line as they watched his graceful and agile frigate dance around, seemingly effortlessly.

“Nicely done, sir,” Robey said, smiling at him.

“Thank you, Mr. Robey,” Granger said, smiling back.

“Sir, Flag to Belvidera: Captain to repair on board,” Gatling said. So much for having orders merely sent over to him, Granger thought

“Acknowledge, Mr. Gatling,” Granger said. “I’ll need my gig, if you please, Mr. Robey.”

“Aye aye sir,” they chimed. Granger watched, while pretending not to, as his gig was swung out and brought around, and then boarded her with all the agility of his youth. It was a very short pull to Victory, where he had to haul himself up her towering sides. He found it ironic that older and senior captains had larger ships with higher sides, tougher to climb into and out of, while younger captains commanded smaller ships that were much easier to get in and out of due to their lower freeboards.

“Welcome back, sir,” Lennox said cheerfully. How pleasant to have him as a greeter, Granger thought.

“It is good to see you, Mr. Lennox,” Granger said, and winked slightly at the young lieutenant. He saw Lennox blush slightly, and that almost made Granger chuckle. In any event, it was a short walk back to the admiral’s cabin.

“Ah Granger, join me for a glass,” Jervis said.

“Yes, Sir John,” Granger said, and took a glass of what turned out to be a splendid red wine.

“Couldn’t put on your best uniform for me?” Jervis growled.

“I’m sorry sir, but I figured you’d rather I got here faster. Besides, I am told this one looks better on me.”

“Then you are surrounded by sycophants,” Jervis joked.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said, smiling at him.

“I have an assignment for you. It will take you away from the fleet for a few months, and I know how devastating that will be for you.” Jervis was in a good mood, as was evidenced by his light approach to whatever assignment he had in mind.

“I will miss you, sir,” Granger said, permitting himself a cheeky grin, and trying to find that perfect mix of deference and humor that had worked so well in the past.

“I’m sure,” Jervis said dubiously. “The Lydia is in need of an overhaul. She is the frigate detailed to serve the Governor and garrison at Gibraltar. I must replace her, and you are being given the task.”

“Yes, sir,” Granger said, digesting this latest assignment. It was a plumb choice. He’d basically be responsible for patrolling the Straits of Gibraltar, with a base handy if the weather got bad. The men could have shore leave and spend their hard-earned prize money, and good stores would be readily available. There was only one fly in the ointment: “I will be awfully close to Cadiz, sir. What are my orders regarding Admiral Mann?”

Jervis smiled. “You were worried I’d forgotten about him?”

“No sir, but it was a topic I felt worthy of airing,” Granger said, with uncharacteristic nervousness.

“You will be under the Governor’s direct orders, and you will be off limits to Admiral Mann,” Jervis said. Granger just stared at him, and thankfully remembered to close his mouth. To be given orders to ignore Mann would inflame him.

“I will try to avoid the blockading squadron, nonetheless, with your permission, sir,” Granger said diplomatically.

“That would be most diplomatic of you. This assignment is supposed to be a reward, Granger, for that nice job you did on the court martial. I’ve got those four men for you to take with you as well.”

“Thank you sir, for the reward, and for the men.” Four prime seamen would be very useful, even on an almost fully manned ship like Belvidera.

“You’ll find that the Governor shares your antipathies for Admiral Mann. It will amuse him to keep you dangling in front of the Admiral, so close and still yet so far away,” he joked.

“I will endeavor to avoid creating additional conflict, nonetheless, sir,” Granger said. “Who, may I ask, is the Governor?”

“General O’Hara. He has the dubious distinction of representing our chaps at the surrender of Yorktown in the previous war.”

“I served with him at Toulon, sir,” Granger observed.

“And you managed to stay on good terms with him?”

Granger smiled. “I did, primarily because I refrained from making any observations about the conduct of the army.”

“Well he was captured there as well,” Sir John said. “He languished in a French prison until he was exchanged for the Comte de Rochambeau. Let us hope that his string of surrenders does not extend to Gibraltar.”

“I share that hope, Sir John, and also fervently hope that all this time in captivity has not soured the General’s mood too much,” Granger joked.

“Let us hope,” Jervis said. “Just follow his orders and don’t cause any problems. I’ll see you through any difficulties with Mann.”

“Yes, sir,” Granger said.

“You may bother Captain Grey while you await your orders, and those for Captain Campbell of the Lydia,” Jervis said, dismissing him.

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said. He assembled all of the paperwork generated for him and returned to Belvidera.

“Orders, sir?” Roberts asked.

“Set a course for Gibraltar, Mr. Roberts,” Granger ordered. “We are to relieve Lydia while she refits.”

Roberts grinned, then tried to stop himself but couldn’t quite pull it off. “Aye aye sir,” he said, then began yelling at the men, encouraging them. Within half an hour, the entire crew knew they were going to spend at least a few months on easy duty at Gibraltar.