*Chapter Six - The Verdict*
'I must in conscience declare that I do not think you were properly supported, and that had you been the result would have been very different.'
Francis (Frank) Austen to Thomas Cochrane
*******
Of course Cochrane was wrong. Partly wrong at least.
Yes, when he took the proffered command he had turned his back on Archie Kennedy and the friendship he had thought they'd shared and all the foolish, youthful notions Kennedy had tried so hard to hold him to aboard Renown. He'd known that much the whole time. But it had been the right thing to do, the only reasonable thing to do. He'd merely been accepting realities, and reality was that truth and justice were luxuries the Navy could not afford, and one man's life and honour mattered nothing in the scheme of things. If Cochrane could not see that, it was just proof that he was flawed.
(And there were things Cochrane couldn't know - although those made no difference to the principle involved, so it didn't really matter.)
He'd consigned Kennedy's name to mud, and with it nine years of - closeness, he had shut his soul against the past and he would not regret it now.
But - it did rend to know he had been thought to have taken a bribe. Thought, perhaps, even by those who had handed over his promotion. What could he do about it now, what could he possibly do? He had dwelt on that for hours, and it came back to the same point, there was nothing he could do. The Navy would continue to think of him as the officer whose silence had been bought with a command, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all.
He should probably have stayed away from the court martial, there was no reason to return, yet some morbid fascination drew him back.
*
Seymour was testifying. He looked very young as he attempted to champion his friend and hero, arguing that the ships might, with advantage have gone in sooner, taking a leaf from Cochrane's book as he defied the court's attempts to cut him short, insisting he was sworn to tell the whole truth. A loyal man, but it wouldn't be enough.
There had never been any doubt as to how the bulk of the captains would testify, between hatred for Cochrane and wary eyes on their careers, how many were likely to speak out? Seymour had been an outspoken supporter, so had another frigate captain, Frederick Maitland, but Maitland (conveniently) was on Irish duty and would not be testifying here. The senior captains: well, most of them had been against going in from the very beginning. What change was there likely to be now?
Even so, Hornblower was a little startled by the sheer barefacedness of Captain Poer Beresford's claims.
"Lord Gambier seemed to be most anxious to act with his fleet, but that if he had sent them in there, it clearly appeared that few would have returned, if any...." *How can anyone swallow that when all who were sent in returned with little damage?* "Even one sail-of-the-line being lost would have been a disgrace to the enterprise and to England." *Call yourself a Naval officer? When did Nelson or St. Vincent - or Eliub Harvey - consider one ship too high a price for destroying a fleet?*
Captain after complacent captain supported Gambier from the stand. Newman and Burlton and Douglas and Broughton....
But no. William Broughton of Illustrious was not sticking to the script. Broughton was saying that he believed the ships should have gone in earlier, "There were nine sail ashore, and if the British ships had been ordered in it would have been more advantageous...." Moreover he had argued for going in at the captains' conference that morning, had said, "I thought 'they were attackable from the confused way in which the French ships were at the time.' " Yes, Hornblower remembered, Broughton's had been one of the voices that attempted to speak out against the tide.
Nor was that the end of Broughton's revelations. He had entered the channel after the action and taken soundings in the very place where Stokes and Fairfax had recorded their reef of rocks. There was no reef.
Curtis hastily cut Broughton's testimony short.
*
A foregone conclusion, Hornblower thought, boarding the Gladiator for the trial's last day. Of course it always had been. Of all the captains only Seymour and Broughton and Pulteney Malcolm of the Donegal had spoken for Cochrane. A few of the lesser witnesses, junior officers and ship's masters, had been inclined to take his part; but they had been quickly quelled, in any case it was the captains who would count. Yes, a foregone conclusion.
He took his seat beside a slight acquaintance, a stern faced captain of his own years who had not been at the Basque Roads. Captain Frank Austen, protégé of Gambier.
"A sad business," Austen said.
"Yes indeed." No doubt whose side Austen would be on, it was his family connections to Gambier that had advanced his career, just as it was Gambier's own connections with some of the greatest political families that had taken him to the top, just as it was Seymour's family ties that had made him a post-captain so young. That was the way the service worked, and no-one bit the hand that fed. Besides, Austen no doubt approved of Gambier. He himself had the reputation of a deeply religious man, even if he didn't have quite Gambier's crusading zeal.
Lord Gambier's own testimony was concluding his defence, and Hornblower noted sardonically that the Admiral seemed to genuinely feel he had been vindicated. "I feel myself more and more confirmed in my opinion, that the measure pursued for the attack of the enemy were those best calculated for the object in view."
Maybe he really did believe that. Gambier was a fool.
"He will be acquitted of course," Austen said, during the adjournment that followed the conclusion of Gambier's defence.
"Of course," said Hornblower.
"And Cochrane will be discredited.... Does that please you?"
Hornblower blinked in surprise, "In the interests of the service..."
"Why do you believe the fleet did not go in?" Austen said. "I am curious for the answer, for you have never struck me as a jealous man, Captain Hornblower."
"What has jealousy to do with this?"
Austen sighed, "I have talked to many men who were there, junior officers as well as captains, and one thing plain is that there was a profound resentment in the Fleet towards Lord Cochrane. I acquit Lord Gambier on that score, but he is, I know, very much aware of his comparative lack of active experience, and thus easily influenced by those around him."
"I do not see your meaning, Captain."
Austen hesitated, then seemed to reach a decision. "In plain words then, I believe Lord Gambier was swayed by men who placed personal dislike and anger before the honour of their country. His taking a position so far from the harbourage, meaning he was not in a position to see the state of the French Fleet for himself, was alone a great mistake, any man of reasonable experience can see as much."
"You cannot expect me to comment on that."
Austen turned to look him directly in the eye, "I did not hear your testimony, captain, nor have I heard how it went."
"Naturally I supported the Admiral."
"Naturally?"
"Would not you have done so?"
"I thought I had made my views clear. I am indeed, considering whether I ought not to write to Lord Cochrane and tell him my opinion. As a second- hand view, it would not amount to evidence, but I feel Lord Cochrane should know there are those in the service who agree entirely with him. Many of the junior officers are very indignant."
"For heaven's sake!" Hornblower exclaimed, "Gambier is your patron!"
"And I am grateful. But I must not allow gratitude for past favours, nor hope of future ones, to prevent me from speaking the truth."
"And what of the good of the service. Do you care for that?"
"An action against a man's conscience can never be for good. It is because I care for the service that I feel I should speak out. Some naval honour should be salvaged from this sad affair."
*Prig!* Hornblower thought angrily, but there was no chance to say more, as the officers of the tribunal returned to court to pronounce the words of vindication.
In the congratulatory bustle that followed the return of Gambier's sword, Hornblower surprised an almost stricken look on Austen's face. Strange. A captain with a conservative reputation should have been pleased.
"He's ruined himself," said Austen. He was not referring to Gambier.
Hornblower said, "He has indeed."
'I must in conscience declare that I do not think you were properly supported, and that had you been the result would have been very different.'
Francis (Frank) Austen to Thomas Cochrane
*******
Of course Cochrane was wrong. Partly wrong at least.
Yes, when he took the proffered command he had turned his back on Archie Kennedy and the friendship he had thought they'd shared and all the foolish, youthful notions Kennedy had tried so hard to hold him to aboard Renown. He'd known that much the whole time. But it had been the right thing to do, the only reasonable thing to do. He'd merely been accepting realities, and reality was that truth and justice were luxuries the Navy could not afford, and one man's life and honour mattered nothing in the scheme of things. If Cochrane could not see that, it was just proof that he was flawed.
(And there were things Cochrane couldn't know - although those made no difference to the principle involved, so it didn't really matter.)
He'd consigned Kennedy's name to mud, and with it nine years of - closeness, he had shut his soul against the past and he would not regret it now.
But - it did rend to know he had been thought to have taken a bribe. Thought, perhaps, even by those who had handed over his promotion. What could he do about it now, what could he possibly do? He had dwelt on that for hours, and it came back to the same point, there was nothing he could do. The Navy would continue to think of him as the officer whose silence had been bought with a command, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all.
He should probably have stayed away from the court martial, there was no reason to return, yet some morbid fascination drew him back.
*
Seymour was testifying. He looked very young as he attempted to champion his friend and hero, arguing that the ships might, with advantage have gone in sooner, taking a leaf from Cochrane's book as he defied the court's attempts to cut him short, insisting he was sworn to tell the whole truth. A loyal man, but it wouldn't be enough.
There had never been any doubt as to how the bulk of the captains would testify, between hatred for Cochrane and wary eyes on their careers, how many were likely to speak out? Seymour had been an outspoken supporter, so had another frigate captain, Frederick Maitland, but Maitland (conveniently) was on Irish duty and would not be testifying here. The senior captains: well, most of them had been against going in from the very beginning. What change was there likely to be now?
Even so, Hornblower was a little startled by the sheer barefacedness of Captain Poer Beresford's claims.
"Lord Gambier seemed to be most anxious to act with his fleet, but that if he had sent them in there, it clearly appeared that few would have returned, if any...." *How can anyone swallow that when all who were sent in returned with little damage?* "Even one sail-of-the-line being lost would have been a disgrace to the enterprise and to England." *Call yourself a Naval officer? When did Nelson or St. Vincent - or Eliub Harvey - consider one ship too high a price for destroying a fleet?*
Captain after complacent captain supported Gambier from the stand. Newman and Burlton and Douglas and Broughton....
But no. William Broughton of Illustrious was not sticking to the script. Broughton was saying that he believed the ships should have gone in earlier, "There were nine sail ashore, and if the British ships had been ordered in it would have been more advantageous...." Moreover he had argued for going in at the captains' conference that morning, had said, "I thought 'they were attackable from the confused way in which the French ships were at the time.' " Yes, Hornblower remembered, Broughton's had been one of the voices that attempted to speak out against the tide.
Nor was that the end of Broughton's revelations. He had entered the channel after the action and taken soundings in the very place where Stokes and Fairfax had recorded their reef of rocks. There was no reef.
Curtis hastily cut Broughton's testimony short.
*
A foregone conclusion, Hornblower thought, boarding the Gladiator for the trial's last day. Of course it always had been. Of all the captains only Seymour and Broughton and Pulteney Malcolm of the Donegal had spoken for Cochrane. A few of the lesser witnesses, junior officers and ship's masters, had been inclined to take his part; but they had been quickly quelled, in any case it was the captains who would count. Yes, a foregone conclusion.
He took his seat beside a slight acquaintance, a stern faced captain of his own years who had not been at the Basque Roads. Captain Frank Austen, protégé of Gambier.
"A sad business," Austen said.
"Yes indeed." No doubt whose side Austen would be on, it was his family connections to Gambier that had advanced his career, just as it was Gambier's own connections with some of the greatest political families that had taken him to the top, just as it was Seymour's family ties that had made him a post-captain so young. That was the way the service worked, and no-one bit the hand that fed. Besides, Austen no doubt approved of Gambier. He himself had the reputation of a deeply religious man, even if he didn't have quite Gambier's crusading zeal.
Lord Gambier's own testimony was concluding his defence, and Hornblower noted sardonically that the Admiral seemed to genuinely feel he had been vindicated. "I feel myself more and more confirmed in my opinion, that the measure pursued for the attack of the enemy were those best calculated for the object in view."
Maybe he really did believe that. Gambier was a fool.
"He will be acquitted of course," Austen said, during the adjournment that followed the conclusion of Gambier's defence.
"Of course," said Hornblower.
"And Cochrane will be discredited.... Does that please you?"
Hornblower blinked in surprise, "In the interests of the service..."
"Why do you believe the fleet did not go in?" Austen said. "I am curious for the answer, for you have never struck me as a jealous man, Captain Hornblower."
"What has jealousy to do with this?"
Austen sighed, "I have talked to many men who were there, junior officers as well as captains, and one thing plain is that there was a profound resentment in the Fleet towards Lord Cochrane. I acquit Lord Gambier on that score, but he is, I know, very much aware of his comparative lack of active experience, and thus easily influenced by those around him."
"I do not see your meaning, Captain."
Austen hesitated, then seemed to reach a decision. "In plain words then, I believe Lord Gambier was swayed by men who placed personal dislike and anger before the honour of their country. His taking a position so far from the harbourage, meaning he was not in a position to see the state of the French Fleet for himself, was alone a great mistake, any man of reasonable experience can see as much."
"You cannot expect me to comment on that."
Austen turned to look him directly in the eye, "I did not hear your testimony, captain, nor have I heard how it went."
"Naturally I supported the Admiral."
"Naturally?"
"Would not you have done so?"
"I thought I had made my views clear. I am indeed, considering whether I ought not to write to Lord Cochrane and tell him my opinion. As a second- hand view, it would not amount to evidence, but I feel Lord Cochrane should know there are those in the service who agree entirely with him. Many of the junior officers are very indignant."
"For heaven's sake!" Hornblower exclaimed, "Gambier is your patron!"
"And I am grateful. But I must not allow gratitude for past favours, nor hope of future ones, to prevent me from speaking the truth."
"And what of the good of the service. Do you care for that?"
"An action against a man's conscience can never be for good. It is because I care for the service that I feel I should speak out. Some naval honour should be salvaged from this sad affair."
*Prig!* Hornblower thought angrily, but there was no chance to say more, as the officers of the tribunal returned to court to pronounce the words of vindication.
In the congratulatory bustle that followed the return of Gambier's sword, Hornblower surprised an almost stricken look on Austen's face. Strange. A captain with a conservative reputation should have been pleased.
"He's ruined himself," said Austen. He was not referring to Gambier.
Hornblower said, "He has indeed."