“You were under my command as part of the Cape squadron.”
“I was.”
“Were you present at the capture of the French frigate Volontaire?”
“That is so. I took possession of the vessel per your orders.”
“Were you with me at the examination of her papers?”
“I was.”
“Did they indicate that the vessel was part of a battle squadron?”
“They did-but of the Willaumez force, bound for the West Indies.”
“Thank you. Later you took the corvette Marie Galante. You returned with valuable intelligence. Pray tell the court its nature and the circumstances of its discovery.”
“It was reliable information that the vessel was not part of any fleet at large in the Indian Ocean and that all other squadrons had sailed for France.”
“And how was this intelligence obtained?” Popham prompted.
“I had a Guernseyman in my crew who I set to be sentry over the prisoners. They talked freely before him, thinking him English. They revealed that-”
Jervis raised his hand. “Sir Thomas, what rank was this Guernsey seaman?”
“An able seaman so far as I can remember.”
“And whose testimony may therefore not be acceptable in a matter of high intelligence.”
The president raised his eyebrows. “The court will consequently ignore this last. Have you any more questions for this witness?”
“Sir Thomas, at the time we sailed for South America did you at any time take the view that the Cape was open to descent from the French?”
“Objection. The evidence takes the form of an opinion and-I beg pardon of the honourable captain-from a junior not to be expected to know the strategical situation.”
Popham returned hotly, “This was the captain of a frigate entrusted with the responsibility of several independent cruises touching upon the defences of the Cape. I know not any who could be more cognisant about the reigning situation than such a one! Sir Thomas?”
“In the knowledge of the quitting of all French squadrons from the adjacent seas I saw nothing to indicate there were hostile plans to be directed against the Cape.”
“Did you have any reason to suppose there was on the other hand any internal threat obtaining?”
“Objection! How is it at all possible that a naval officer, however distinguished, might be in a position to make comment on that?”
Popham gave a tight smile of condescension. “The court may not know that this officer was centrally involved in the suppression of a French-inspired rising of the natives, the last threat of consequence to our holdings in the Cape.”
“Sir Home, I fail to see-”
“Now, Sir Thomas. You were present, were you not, when the American trader Waine arrived in Cape Town with information concerning the current state of Buenos Aires, its defences and politics?”
“I was.”
“Kindly tell the court your conclusions following our interview with him and the examination of the Buenos Aires newspapers he offered.”
Kydd went cold. He remembered this well as the turning point when the fantasy Popham had conjured became a practical reality. There and then he had offered his support. Yet if it were taken that as a consequence he had thrown in his lot with the prisoner before the court things could turn very ugly.
The inner truth was, of course, that he had gone with the scheme for its audacity and prospects but-
“Sir Thomas?”
He was only too aware of Popham’s intent gaze as he waited for the reply.
“My conclusion at the time was that should orders be given for a move on Buenos Aires it would be difficult to conceive a better time.”
Jervis struck like a snake. “Should orders be given … Then pray tell the court, Sir Thomas, what your objections were when an attack on the Spanish was formally proposed.”
It was a loaded question and Kydd floundered for a reply. His very nature rebelled at anything other than a faithful account, but this would be to say that he did not in fact object and therefore he was in favour of an expedition.
His next words could …
“If it please the court, I found it difficult to object to the practicality of what was being put forward, which as we know did result in a success for His Majesty’s arms.”
He dared a glance at Popham and from the slumped shoulders and bowed head realised that he’d failed him. It clutched at his heart. That long-ago time in the old Diadem’s cabin when they’d talked of being left to rot in a backwater station, the boredom and lack of a chance at distinction, then an opportunity for both of them-and now this.
He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came.
The president snapped, “Sir Thomas, thank you and you may stand down.”
“Are there any further witnesses?”
It seemed there were not.
“I rule therefore that you should now look to closing your defence, Sir Home.”
It was all but over.
Popham had only a brief closing speech to make before the court retired for deliberation to a verdict.
“I here close my defence and I throw myself on the wisdom and justice of this honourable court. My feelings and character have suffered severely but I trust to your judgement to relieve the one and rescue the other.
“If I have, in the exercise of my zeal, exceeded the strict bounds of discretion, I hope it will be evident that I have been actuated solely by a desire to advance the honour, glory and interest of my country …”
It was noble, uplifting rhetoric and concluded with a Shakespearean quotation from Othello, defending the Venetian state: “That the very head and front of my offending hath this extent-no more!”
A stirring among the members of the court seemed to show that they were not unmoved, and as the prisoner was led away by the Admiralty marshal they all rose to their feet.
“Clear the court.”
As with all who had been present for the days of the trial there was a reluctance to leave the ship before the verdict was reached, and Kydd found himself pacing the upper deck with them, engaging in awkward small-talk as the time passed.
It was not until hours later, when the sun was going down, that a sudden excited buzz from the cabin spaces indicated that the moment had arrived.
They crowded into the great cabin where the president sat with a grim expression, flanked by the gold lace of the seven admirals who had made their judgement.
“Bring in the prisoner.”
Popham entered, his face pale but giving nothing away.
“The court, having maturely considered the nature of the charges, heard all the evidence and having deliberated upon the whole of this case, are of the opinion … that the charges are proved against the said Captain Sir Home Popham.”
He waited for a wave of murmuring to die then continued: “The court is further of the opinion that the conduct of the said Captain Sir Home Popham in withdrawing the whole of the naval force under his command from the Cape of Good Hope and proceeding with it to the Rio de la Plata was highly censurable.
“In consideration of the circumstances, however, the court doth adjudge him to be only severely reprimanded, and he is accordingly severely reprimanded.”
This time there was no holding back the excited babble as a stunned Popham was handed his sword and taken to the door.
As he left, he looked once at Kydd but his expression was unreadable.
The George was abuzz with excitement and speculation but Kydd wanted no part of it.
He called for Tysoe. “I’m returning to London tomorrow. We leave on the first stage.”
“Very good, Sir Thomas.” He moved forward to help Kydd out of his heavy full-dress uniform into the plain brown attire he’d come down in.
“And if you’d find me a whisky …?”
The dull roar from below wafted up in eddies. This had been the court-martial of the age and everyone had a view on it.
He closed the window and sprawled in a brown study.
His thoughts were disturbed by the arrival of Bowden. “The town’s in an uproar, Sir Thomas, and I’d hoped you’d-”