"No, gentlemen, don't do it," MacDougall urged the jury. "Deem what Captain Lewrie did a courageous act, the leeward gun fired in the challenge to a foe… as our beloved Admiral Horatio Nelson urges all captains to fire no matter the odds, or risk… a first, tentative, but significant blow against the abominable practice of Negro slavery that I am sure all true Britons despise… a bold geste done not for personal aggrandisement, which, I am also certain all Britons cheer, with nought but admiration for Captain Lewrie's courage in striking any sort of blow to this despicable institution, and expose its putrescent evils for all the world to see.
"We sing, gentlemen," MacDougall said, lowering his arms, sounding weary and exhausted, of a sudden, which forced the twelve men of the jury to lean a bit forward. " 'Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.' Fine for us, for we were born free men, and are now engaged in a war, defending our ancient right to remain free of a conquering tyrant with bulldog tenacity and determination. Can we deny the right to others who are just as determined to become free? Can we condemn a heroic Paladin who freed the first few?
"Find these charges baseless and mean, gentlemen!" MacDougall cried, suddenly finding new energy. "Acquit Captain Lewrie and set him free upon our nation's foes, and, in doing so, condemn the brutes who would make scornful mock of freedom for any man, Black or White, slave or free! Acquit, acquit, acquit, and show the world what true Britons think of human bondage!"
The jury shuffled out to their deliberation chamber, and Lewrie had time to visit the "jakes" for a long-delayed pee. Making his way through the throngs of supporters in the hallways, who had not gained seats in the courtroom, was a maddening hindrance 'pon his bladder, and it was with an immense sense of relief that he could stroll back out after doing up his breeches buttons to face the gauntlet once again, now of much better, less impatient takings.
"Sir! Sir, come quick!" MacDougall's clerk, Mr. Sadler, urged, making a narrow aisle through the crowd and beckoning in some haste. "The jury is ready to render. Bless me, not above eight minutes, in total. Never seen the like!"
"Is that good or bad?" Lewrie asked, considering that, whilst in the "necessary," it might have been a good idea to throw on his boat-cloak, exchange hats with a civilian gentleman, and "take leg-bail" for parts unknown.
"Might be very good, sir. On the other hand… excuse us?"
I'd love t'meet a one-armed law clerk or lawyer, Lewrie told himself; who can't say 'on the other hand.'
MacDougall gave him a tentative smile as he re-entered the grim courtroom, and a shrug as Lewrie re-mounted to the railed dock, where he felt too unsettled to sit down. Lewrie paced the tiny enclosure, a fair approximation of a condemned man's cell, he could imagine, trying to appear stoic, with a slight touch of bemusement, as he looked over the refilling courtroom from his elevated vantage point.
Damme, there's a stunner! he irrelevantly thought, espying an especially attractive young lady in a lavender gown and matching hat; Hope springs eternal… all that. It cheered him that the handsome lass smiled at him and dipped him a brief bow of encouragement.
Bang! went the bailiff's mace, and the cry of "Oyez!" as Lord Justice Oglethorpe resumed his place in the banc, and court functionaries filed in and took their own places… as the twelve men of the jury re-entered the courtroom through a side door and took seats in their own railed-off box. There was much shuffling of feet, coughing into fists, the rustling of gowns and men's coats, the creaking of a new pair of boots, and the bang! of a stubbed toe against the pew-like benches of the spectators' gallery. Oddly, there was no whispering or chatting, this time; only an expectant hush worthy of the last act of a tragedy staged in Drury Lane.
"The jury has determined a verdict in the matter of Beauman versus Lewrie?" Lord Justice Oglethorpe enquired, once the last of the traditional forms had been acted out.
"We have, my lord," the elected foreman announced.
"Pray, do you declare it," Oglethorpe ordered.
"Ahem!" from the foreman.
"Free him, pray God!" some feminine voice was heard to utter.
"We, the jury, find, in the matter of Beauman et al. versus Captain Alan Lewrie, Royal Navy, that the defendant is not guilty."
"Halleluah!" a male spectator shouted, a second before womanly shrieks of relief and joy, and a general "hoo-raw" and chorus of "huzzahs!" mixed with a tidal wave of bright chattering and glad laughter. Sailors behind the Defence table raised "three cheers"!
Holy shit! Lewrie thought, dumbstruck, and nigh-shaking with unutterable relief himself; ready to break out in maniacal laughter as well! What a marvellous thing it was, to know that one would not be cashiered, that one would not hang, and… that one did not owe one's lawyer tuppence! Not guilty! Well, not innocent, exactly, but it'll more than do, Lewrie thought; more… what did MacDougall call it? Jury nullification? Emotion ruled, not logic… and thank God for't!
He goggled round the courtroom at the spectators, the powerful and dedicated to abolition, the enthusiastic, and the mere lookers-on who'd come to any notorious trial. Lewrie spotted wee Rev. Wilberforce and his coterie, all looking about to break into unaccustomed dances of glee (for such an earnest and usually dour crowd), and confessed to himself that he'd let them down badly that night, for it was better than fair odds that he'd be drunk as a lord… drunk as an emperor by God!… by midnight!
Lord Justice Oglethorpe was gavelling away, had been for several minutes in point of fact, before the crowd in the courtroom subdued to a level where in he could make himself heard.
"Captain Alan Lewrie," Oglethorpe solemnly intoned in a loud voice, looking as stolid as ever he might had the jury gone the other way. "A jury of your peers having found you not guilty of the crime with which you were charged, I now declare you a free man."
Which formal declaration only served to set the crowd off once more. Oglethorpe banged away for order, now looking "tetched" by the interruptions.
"Last year, when first you appeared before this court, Captain Lewrie, you put up a surety bond to guarantee your future appearance, which your presence today fulfilled," Oglethorpe announced, "in the amount of one hundred pounds. Such sum I now order returned to you. These proceedings I now declare at an end, and you are free to depart. Court is… dismissed!" he said, with one final bang of his gavel.
An hundred pounds? Lewrie thought as he exited the dock; Orgy! A fкte champкtre, a roast steer, and barrels and lashin's o' drink!
"I told you!" MacDougall was chortling as he came to take hands with his "brief" and shake away vigourously. "I told you t'would be a complete exoneration! The jury found slavery guilty, as I planned."
"Nullification, d'ye mean? Wasn't it risky?" Lewrie asked, though in no mood to disagree with the verdict.
"Exactly so, sir," MacDougall crowed. "But no one ever went 'smash,' over-estimating the sway of emotions 'pon a jury, the pluck of the heartstrings, 'stead of the dry, paper rustlings of cold, hard logic. Congratulations to you, Captain Lewrie, 'pon your freedom, and for how far this case has advanced the noble cause of emancipation of all slaves in the British Empire. Mind, I'd not suggest you do such again, ha ha!"
"If I do, I'll engage only you, Mister MacDougall!" Lewrie teased. "Allow me to extend my hearty congratulations to you, as well, sir! For the notoriety of this will surely be the making of you… though, I dare say your name was already made. Congratulations, and my utmost thanks for being my attorney, Mister MacDougall. I am forever in your debt. Have I another son someday, I'll name him Andrew in honour of you."
Don't trowel it on that thick! Lewrie chid himself; And Christ spare me fresh spit-ups and drool… legitimate or otherwise, but…
"So, ye dodged the hangman, have ye? Huzzah!" Lewrie's father, Sir Hugo came forth to celebrate. "The Devil might have ye yet, but not this day, haw haw!"