That done, Clitheroe and Anderson and the adjudicator went into a great wrangle about procedure which lasted most of the morning, and had everyone yawning and trooping out and in, and fidgetting, until they had it settled. It was beyond me, but the result was that the business was conducted in a most informal way — more like a discussion than a court. But this, apparently, was the case with these adjudications; they had evolved a strange procedure that was all their own.43
For example, when they were at last ready to begin, it was Anderson who got up and addressed the adjudicator, not Clitheroe. I didn't know that it was common for the defendant to show his innocence, rather than the other way about. And for the life of me I couldn't see that Spring had a leg to stand on, but Anderson went ahead, quite unruffled.
The plaintiff's case, he said, such as it was, rested on the hope that he might show the Balliol College to be, de facto, Americanowned, or part American-owned. Secondly, that it was carrying slaves for America in contravention of American law. Thirdly, that in such illicit carriage, it resisted arrest by an American ship of war, such resistance amounting to piracy.
"Unless I mistake the plaintiff's case," says he, easily, "everything rests on the second point. If the Balliol College was not carrying slaves for the United States, and so breaching American law, it is immaterial whether she is American-owned or no: further, if she was not carrying slaves, her arrest was illegal, and such resistance as she showed cannot be held against her master or crew. The plaintiff must show that she was a slave-trading ship, carrying slaves illegally." He beamed across the court. "May I hear counsel on the point?"
Clitheroe rose, frowning slightly, very austere. "That is the essence of the plaintiff's case, sir," says he. "We shall so demonstrate." He picked up a paper. "I have here the sworn deposition of Captain Abraham Fairbrother, U.S. Navy, commander of the brig Cormorant, who effected the capture."
"Deposition?" cries Anderson. "Where is the gentleman himself?"
"He is at sea, sir, as you well know. I have already had a word to say —" and he looked hard at Anderson "— on the point of delays engineered, in my opinion, by the defendant's counsel, in the knowledge that the witness would be compelled to resume his duties afloat, and would therefore be unable to appear in person."
Anderson was up like a shot, protesting innocence to heaven, with Clitheroe sneering across at him, until the adjudicator banged his desk and told them sharply to mind their manners. When the hubbub and laughter on the public benches had subsided, Clitheroe went ahead with Fairbrother's statement.
It was a fair, truthful tale, so far as I could see. He had challenged the Balliol College, which had been flying no flag, she had sheered off, he had fired a warning shot, which had been replied to, an action had been fought, and he had boarded. A dozen or so slaves had been found aboard, 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!"