*This chapter will have some references to violence and a whole lot of maritime law.

MASTERS, MAGISTRATES, MUTINEERS & MEN

Chapter 4: The Disposition

Henry Lennox had swelled with pride when he first discovered Margaret had sent her beloved brother to him for assistance. Of all the people in her acquaintance, she thought highly enough of Henry Lennox to seek his aid in such a delicate matter. She put her brother's very life into his hands. He had been determined to justify her faith in him, to somehow make recompense for their last disastrous meeting and make amends on their friendship.

He still felt a rush of mortification when he thought of their last few moments together in Helstone. How full of hopes his heart had been on the journey there! Margaret Hale may not have been the epitome of fashionable beauty like her cousin, but she possessed a more subtle, striking allure that Henry far preferred. In the years he had known her, she proved herself to be loyal and entirely devoted to the well-being of those she cared about. There was nothing in her manner or mind of which to be ashamed and she proved herself a woman of intelligence and grace in whatever society she found herself in. Henry was confident that no matter how high in his profession he was able to elevate himself, she would prove herself an asset and a helpmate to him. It would have been so convenient. They were already such good friends; it would be so easy to include her permanently in his inner circle. If even half the affection and dedication she gave to her cousin was devoted to her husband, a contented man he would be.

Somehow, it had all gone wrong. He had misjudged or misinterpreted or mishandled the whole affair so entirely that he was almost relieved when he heard she would be removing so far away from London. It was unlikely they would cross paths as often as they once did. Over the next year, he only heard of her through letters from Edith and that was enough.

Then, Frederick Hale turned up on his doorstep, seeking his aid. It was strange to meet the elusive brother face-to-face. Of course, Henry had heard stories, whispers really, about the man and the scandal surrounding him. Mrs. Shaw never spoke of him, but Edith might be coaxed into it, after all the servants had been sent away and the doors closed tight.

"Frederick Hale went to sea and was involved in a mutiny. He daren't return to England," was all she would say. "My uncle and aunt were quite put out by the whole affair and we must never speak of him."

Henry's brother, due to his career in the army, could not find any kind wishes for such a connection. Edith, though, said she knew Frederick Hale to be a very good sort of fellow and she was sure he never meant to do any harm. Margaret, herself, had only mentioned her brother once in Henry's hearing, and it was in a low, whispered conversation to Edith over a letter she had received. Other than that, she never even spoke of him, not even when reminiscing about her childhood days in Helstone. It was as if he had never existed. Henry had thought to ask her about her brother once or twice, but he never did. In truth, he could not really be bothered by the man's existence, at least, not until this elusive brother turned up on his door. Then, it was unavoidable.

Henry would never have known Frederick as Margaret's brother. His complexion, his features, his countenance were all so very different from his sister. He resembled the mother so much more than the father and yet, there was something in the glint of his eyes and the spark of his smile that reminded him of Margaret. He had an unrestrained brashness, an impulsive familiarity in his manner which was so opposed to Margaret's customary aloofness that Henry was taken by surprise. Yet, Henry knew that once she was in more intimate settings, Margaret, too, could exhibit more effusive warmth and strength of opinion than she did among those she was unfamiliar with. Perhaps, her manner came to resemble her brother's more in the inner sanctum of their family and the hours spent away from the prying eyes of outsiders.

Henry had once prided himself on being one of those few included among Margaret's most intimate acquaintances. She treated him as she did her closest family and this gave rise to the hope that someday, she would make the arrangement permanent and bring him closer still. Henry Lennox was a patient man. He knew how to wait and how to keep his emotions under strict regulation. Now, with his involvement in the affairs of her brother, he had been invited into even deeper layers of family secrets than even Edith and Mrs. Shaw were included in. He could not help but preen under such a show of trust.

Initially, after speaking with Frederick Hale the first time, Henry had hopes that there might be ways of clearing his name. If Henry could find a way… how pleased Margaret would be! How grateful! He secretly delighted in imaginings of his future opportunity to see the joy on her face when he informed her Fred could return to England. How much must such an accomplishment raise him in her esteem!

Frederick's capture had changed everything. It had taken the better part of the train ride to Milton for Henry Lennox to settle his thoughts and determine how best to explain matters to the Hales. Really, there was no gentle way to go about it.

Sometimes he wished Margaret had not thrust Frederick onto him. Once Henry made contact with the fugitive, he could not plead ignorance or extricate himself from the situation. He was forced to entangle himself in the whole sordid affair, whether he wanted to or not, and no matter what it cost him. If it was discovered he aided a mutineer, what damage could that do to his own affairs?

But, it was Margaret and he would do far more to help her. Afterall, if his wishes came to fruition, Frederick Hale would become his brother and it was in his own interests to see the man cleared.

Now, Henry had failed her and he knew she would be disappointed in him, even if some part of her admitted it was not Henry's doing. The guilt weighed nearly as heavily as his sense of failure, no matter how he tried to argue it was not entirely his fault. There must have been some way to prevent Fred's capture, some other means to protect him from sight. Henry did not know what, but something-anything to keep it from coming to this. However, an anvil of guilt still sat on his shoulders and he tasted keenly his own inadequacy for his tasks. He had wished to prove himself the hero to Margaret. How she would despise him now!

His heart sank even further when he was welcomed into the plain, unremarkable house in Milton. His keen eyes took in the tear-stained cheeks and bright eyes of Margaret- tinged half in sorrow and half in hope. How she still clung to her belief that he could fix all for her! How he wished he could! Then, there was her father. The old man seemed impossibly older than the last time Henry had seen him. He hardly spoke after weakly grasping Henry's hand in greeting and his eyes carried a hollow desperation, a grief beyond all words or understanding.

Henry Lennox had been disappointed to find he was not the only initiate into the inner sanctum of the Hale's troubles. He had known of Mr. Bell from Margaret's letters to Edith and he did not begrudge the old man's presence. He was there to support his old, old friend and such loyalty was admirable. Mr. Bell had known Frederick since infancy and even claimed the boy as his godson. It was understandable he would be included in all the innermost details of the Hales' affairs. The maid, Mrs. Dixon, too, had proved herself a stalwart defendant of the Hales and thus was acquainted with all that had befallen 'Master Frederick.' Thus, he could not argue with Dixon's quiet, mournful presence in the back of the room.

He was surprised, then, when he was informed of the addition of two more outsiders into their discussion of Frederick Hale that night.

"Mr. Thornton has been one of Papa's students and closest friends during our time in Milton," Margaret had explained. "He has been of the utmost assistance during Mama's illness and during our shock over poor Fred."

"You trust this Mr. Thornton, then?" Henry had asked, wary of the answer.

"Completely. Oh! If only you knew all he has done for us! Yes, he should be here tonight."

"And he will bring with him Mrs. Thornton, of course," Mr. Bell added. "She was here already today, tending to Margaret and her father, if I am not mistaken."

"Oh! Yes! She was here! She has been so kind to us! She has come by every day since we received the news of Fred," Margaret said, a warmth of affection in her voice that eased Henry's mind and made him chide himself for his irrational jealousy over Margaret's attention. He could be glad to know the Hales had made trusted friends during their tenure in this strange, northern town. The fact that Mr. and Mrs. Thornton were on such intimate terms with the Hales as to be invited into this meeting could only speak well of their characters. He could be glad that Margaret had a matron she could confide in during such difficult circumstances, even if Henry rather wished he could be the one she sought for comfort instead.

The Thorntons, when they arrived, were not anything like Henry Lennox expected. For one, instead of the middle-aged married couple he had been imagining, it was a stern widow and her even sterner, and much younger, son which burst into the Hale's drawing room that night. Mrs. Thornton was neither genteel nor gentle. She was a large woman – though it was her manner more than her size that filled the room with her presence. She was clothed entirely in black, with a frown on her face that only briefly melted when she made polite greetings and clasped Margaret's hand. Alongside her, the son towered over everyone, his broad shoulders and powerful frame making Henry feel as if he had shrunk half his size simply by being in the same room with the man. Yet, it was the way the man's eyes fixed on Margaret and then remained, as if a carrier pigeon returning to roost, that unsettled Henry Lennox the most.

He recognized the concern, the fixed attentiveness, the obvious attempts at kindness which Mr. Thornton bestowed on Margaret – only because they were mirrored in his own actions. Yet, this man was not a contributing cause to Margaret's suffering and he could not receive the same censure. Of course, there must be other men who would take note of Margaret's admirable qualities and pay homage to her many virtues. However understandable, it did not make the observation of the other man's infatuation any easier for Henry to bear.

He fought back the surge of possessiveness that flooded him and struggled to organize his thoughts into coherence. He was not here to court Miss Hale, but to give the news of her brother. He was not sure which task would prove the most disastrous.

He had practiced. He had even taken notes to remind himself of what to say, the best words to use, the best arguments to make. Yet, none of his preparations were adequate with the task now facing him.

All eyes in the room dwelt on him and he swallowed thickly, searching for courage amidst his pile of papers and hoping to hide his emotions beneath a well-controlled mask of indifference. He looked up, his head held high as he met each eager, waiting face before him. He cleared his throat.

"Let us begin," Henry said. "To begin, let me explain some of the nuances of maritime law so you may better understand the situation at hand. The navy cannot approach crimes and punishments in the same manner as civilians on land. You see, once on board a vessel, the lives of all on board are inextricably linked together and the crew is dependent on each other for survival. The actions of each influence the well-being of all. This is very different from life on land. If a thief in London steals some jewels, there is wrong that is done, but the matron who has been robbed is not then dependent on the thief for her well-being and trapped in a small, confined space with him for months on end. If a sailor robs a fellow sailor, it is a breach of trust and breeds conflict for the entire ship for the duration of the voyage.

"Sailors rely on each other completely. If someone fails to keep watch, it may be the end of them all when they dash to pieces on rocks. If someone fails to keep clean, it may mean sickness for the rest of the ship. If the carpenter is remiss in fixing a leak, the ship will sink. If someone steals rations, the rest will suffer for it. Strict discipline is required so that they all may survive together and morale is upheld.

"To maintain behavior, the navy functions with a balance of rewards and punishments. There are material rewards and elevations in rank, honor, and prestige. An elaborate hierarchy exists on board ship based on one's behavior, skills, and achievements and one's connections to others in the navy. It is not based on the circumstances of birth as much as the achievements during one's career. The opposite of this would be the system of punishments- the first being public shame and then more pecuniary measures such as pain, hard work, loss of rations, etc. A wise captain knows how to wield both in order to secure his crew's loyalty and trust. If he fails to discipline bad behavior, he breaks trust and puts his crew in danger.

"There was an instance where a sailor wished to steal alcohol from his commanding officer's stores. When he found it guarded by a ten-year-old boy, he broke the boy's neck without mercy and threw his corpse into the sea without a second thought. Now, imagine, if the captain failed to reprimand or punish such evil! Imagine sharing one's bunk and rations with such a man! Yet, during battle or during a storm, your life and well-being might very well be held in that man's hands. No, it was imperative to remove such evil from the ship or there would be great danger to all involved.

"We must remember the uncomfortable truth that the navy is not composed of entirely moral, upright individuals. And not all go to sea willingly. Our current laws developed during times when there were more sailors required for wars than our lands willingly produced and thus unwilling participants were pressed into service to fill the gaps. For England to win, we required bodies to fill ships and make our ships go to war. Sometimes, these were regular civilians who were forced into a life on sea and other times, they were known criminals sent to fulfill their sentence onboard ship. Such a situation is like a powder keg, ready to explode at any time. To keep order with such rabble, harsh measures were employed. Most of the time, the threat of death was enough to keep the unwilling sailors from rallying against their captain and enabling the ship to complete its stated purpose. If that threat failed, then the transgressors must be punished or the navy risked chaos. Imagine if every ship was stolen by its crew! They could easily abscond with all cargo and hide in the many ports and crevices of the seven seas and what could be done? No, our naval power relies on trust and loyalty. Without our navy, our nation would dwindle and diminish. Our trade would be vulnerable and our borders unprotected.

"This strict order and discipline can have far-reaching consequences for our nation as well. Failing to heed the directions of a superior officer during a time of battle can mean the loss of a war. Our current prosperity and power as a nation is dependent on our ability to protect our assets and maintain our position.

"Now, this explains why the navy has a different set of laws, punishments, and means of trial than their civilian counterparts. The penalty for stealing on board ship must be greater than on land. Mutiny cannot be tolerated or the lives of the entire ship and the fate of the nation as a whole may be detrimentally impacted.

"For all the strict punishments the navy employs, the navy would much rather avoid capital punishment. Skilled sailors are hard to come by. If an entire crew mutinies, the navy will be hard-pressed to replace them. Even in the most recent mutinies, some of the skilled members of the crew who chose to side with the captain are forced to remain with the mutineers simply because they are needed to keep the ship afloat. While many a man may be declared worthy of death by a court martial, a large number of the condemned are later given mercy and transported or sent to prison instead. However, there are times the navy decides they must use capital punishment in order to send a message and maintain order in the system as a whole. In these times, individuals may become scapegoats and symbols more than accused prisoners guilty of wrong.

"During the Spithead and Nore mutinies, multiple ships mutinied together to request higher pay, an end of impressment, changes to the Articles of War, and other measures. However, at the time England was at war with France and the navy was vital to the war effort. While some of the requests the sailors made were reasonable and were acceded to by the admiralty, the mutiny of an entire fleet during wartime was a precarious position. The navy could not allow any more such united fronts to occur and Richard Parker was tried and hung, despite the fact that he was merely the spokesman and not the primary organizing force behind the Nore mutiny. He was the only one punished and his punishment was meant as a deterrent.

"The admiralty both insists on capital punishment and avoids it as much as possible. Before the 1847 revision of the Articles of War, all mutineers must receive capital punishment. After the revision, captains were given more freedom. They could use capital punishment, if necessary, but they were not required to and they could institute alternative punishments, if they saw fit. Yet, to those outside the admiralty, the method and utilization of various punishments may appear arbitrary. One mutineer may be sent to life in prison, another transported to Australia, and yet another is hung at the yard-arm. The difference in sentencing is entirely at the whim of the admiralty present at the court martial and there is no explanation as to the differing treatment of the accused. This is why parliament and the public wish to see greater accountability and oversight. They wish to see more standardized punishment and limitations on violence. Yet, until parliament agrees on more changes, we must hand the laws as they are.

"Now, Frederick Hale is accused of organizing a mutiny, piracy, and treason. The admiralty already received eyewitness accounts from ten members of the crew who remained loyal to Captain Reid and five from captured mutineers. There are still a dozen or so mutineers who have not been apprehended yet."

Margaret sat up straighter, her hand filled with a pile of papers. "I have all of Fred's letters from around the time of the mutiny," she said. "I made a list of every name he mentioned. Surely, there is one among them which can speak for him! Afterall, Captain Reid was a tyrant – the way he treated his men, why, it was right of Fred to stand up to him."

Henry Lennox sighed and reached to clasp his hand around his pocket watch. The cool metal calmed him slightly and he could feel the gentle whirring of the movement of time under his palm. He knew Margaret. She would not make this easy for him. He knew this, but that did not make the prospect any more palatable.

"It would be a far simpler matter to seek mercy for Lieutenant Hale if his actions only involved the mutiny. Even then, as the highest-ranking officer involved and as a primary organizing force, he would be held responsible merely as an example to deter others from following in his footsteps. The navy, you see, does not have a simple view of justice. Captain Reid may have been wrong in his actions but it was also wrong to organize the mutiny against him. While Captain Reid might be relieved of duty or face demotion, his subordinates face transportation or the gallows. If Lieutenant Hale was simply a cook or a carpenter, he might face lesser punishment, but he was a lieutenant and thus the likelihood of finding mercy decreases."

"You believe it is a lost cause?

"Margaret, even if we managed to clear his name for his part of the mutiny, there are still two more charges against him – both with similar punishments attached," Henry said, as patiently as he could.

"You cannot expect me to believe such obviously false charges! Those were fabricated by the newspapers after the mutiny to cast doubt on the stories the mutineers told," Margaret said, her eyes beginning to tear up with anger and defiance rippled through her posture as she held her head even higher.

Henry sighed. After his initial conversation with Frederick Hale, he found himself caught up in the young man's vehemence, captivated by the justice of his cause. However, there were other pertinent facts that had been conveniently absent from the young Hale's initial story. While the story of the mutiny itself had some elements that Henry could have worked with, with more time, with more connections, it was the successive actions and the decisions of the young man that were harder to rationalize away. The stories he failed to tell held just as much weight on his final outcome as those he willingly elaborated about.

"Margaret, even if absolved of the mutiny, he is just as culpable for his actions that followed," he said.

"What actions?" Margaret pressed.

Henry gave an apologetic glance at the room around him. "Are you certain you wish to know?"

Margaret vehemently nodded her head so Henry continued.

"First of all, you must be aware that to organize a mutiny requires violence. No captain or officers give up their ship willingly and each were soundly beaten before they were placed in the longboat. They were sent with three weeks' rations and hardly survived a storm before the West Indian Steamer found them. One died of exposure during the journey. A second later died of the injuries he sustained during the confrontation with the mutineers.

"The mutineers could not manage the ship without the carpenter and the master and so they forced these men to remain on the ship until they could sail the ship to Rio de Janeiro. Once in Rio, all cargo on board the ship was sold and the profit split between the mutineers. The HMS Russell and all its cargo was in their possession and disposed of at their discretion, thus the charge for piracy.

"Now, as you know, the primary task of the Royal Navy off the coast of Brazil is to prevent the slave trade. Despite the treaties with Spain and the Criminal Act, Spain and Brazil insist on the illegal importation of slaves. Rio remains the primary port of sale. Spain's interests in Cuba are entirely reliant on the importation of slaves to work their sugar plantations. The Americans who sail these waters are sympathetic to the slavers. Thus, it is the British navy alone who seeks to eradicate the scourge of slavery in the Americas. This is the mission that the HMS Russell was dispatched to with its captain and crew to patrol the Atlantic off the coast of South America.

"Understandably, the mutineers knew they would face the gallows if they returned to England and they also required funds to sustain them. Thus, they were forced with a difficult decision: would they scuttle the ship, sell the ship to the Spanish or Brazilians, or keep the ship and use it for their own purposes? It was determined, in light of the conflicted nature of the affairs between Brazil and England, that they could gain the highest profit by maintaining control of the ship, changing the flags, and using the ship for their own gain. Thus, the mutineers, under the leadership of Lieutenant Hale, took on additional crew members - primarily from the itinerant seaman to be found in Rio- and took to running patrols on behalf of the merchants and slavers who paid them highly for their services. They alerted their patrons of incoming ships and created distractions so the slavers could complete their transactions in the bay undisturbed.

"Once the war broke out between the U.S. and Mexico, the mutineers immediately saw another opportunity to make their fortune. They agreed to run contraband through the blockade in Veracruz, at least, until the Battle of Veracruz put an end to it.

"At this point, many of the mutineers had drifted away in search of other opportunities. Those who remained continued to transport cargo between ports, but these waters were well-patrolled. After one too many close calls with the British Royal Navy, the HMS Russell was sailed to Cuba, where the ship and the crew surrendered themselves to the Spanish. The Spanish paid them for the ship. Then they gave the men the choice between hard labor, joining the army, or serving on the HMS Russell under Spanish colors. Lieutenant Hale chose to join the army where he served for some years. Thus, the charge of treason.

"In recent years, after his release from the Spanish army, he has found employment with a merchant in Cadiz. Barbor and Company imports sugar, coffee, and cigars from Cuba and then exports wine and cloth to the United States and to Cuba," Henry continued. "Trade in Cadiz is quite lucrative and he has made an impressive fortune for himself. Unfortunately, the basis of that fortune came from absconding with the HMS Russell and using the vessel for activities contrary to those endorsed by the Royal Navy or British law. I am afraid that even without the mutiny, he still is guilty of very serious charges. The misdeeds of Captain Reid are not enough to blot out the transgressions of Lieutenant Hale."

"It isn't true. It cannot. I do not believe it," Margaret whispered.

When Miss Hale threatened to give way, three men rose with handkerchiefs in hand, arms outstretched towards her. With a knowing glance at her son, Mrs. Thornton swooped in between them, placed her arm around Miss Hale's shuddering shoulders, and escorted her out of the room. Neither returned to the drawing room that night.

And Henry Lennox returned to his hotel room with his heart even heavier than when he left.

Author's notes:

Realistically, Henry Lennox wouldn't have to go into such great detail about the historical context of the navy with his audience. However, since most of us are unfamiliar with the context, he talked a lot to give us a picture of what actually going on.

Speaking of which, after I published the last chapter, I realized it was wrong. Remember how naval law is so different from civilian? I included some bits that were civilian law and not naval. It gets super complicated trying to tease apart what all actually went on during a naval court martial. What makes it even more complicated is the fact that Fred was discovered in England. No mutineer with any ounce of self-preservation would step foot back in England. Thus, I have no historical precedents to pull from. The trial of Richard Parker (Nore Mutiny, 1797) is the closest I could come (it took place in England), thus I read through the transcripts of his trial and am pulling most of my data from there. A naval court martial would be held on ship, away from land. Thus, no visitors are allowed and there is no legal representation allowed. The accused can call for witnesses and represent themselves, but they have no formal lawyer. The trial takes place over 3-7 days and the punishment occurs immediately and onboard the ship (i.e. hung from the yard-arm). Thus, even if the Hales manage the lengthy trip to Portsmouth in time, they would not get to see Fred. (Richard Parker's wife -after petitioning the queen for his release- tried to row out to the ship to see her husband. Repeatedly. Every time she was repelled. She only managed to watch him hang, but never to see him. She did manage to give him a proper burial- something most mutineers would not receive.)

Tangent over, so, yes, I was wrong. That means I have to go back to the last chapter and update it for historical accuracy. I kept in the bit about legal representation, and we can pretend that Fred was permitted to talk to this lawyer before he was transported to Portsmouth (most likely wouldn't have happened, but it sounds nice-maybe we can argue he helped find witnesses or could write letters suggesting useful questions or something). However, we will take out the bit about the Hales going to visit him. As angsty and dramatic as such a reunion would be, it just wouldn't be possible and it's not necessary for the plot, so it's not going to happen.

Research notes:

For this story, I primarily pulled from the following mutinies: HMS Hermoine (the one Gaskell most likely used as her inspiration for Frederick Hale's story), HMS Bounty, Nore/Spithead, Christmas, the Felicidade Affair, and the account of the Pirates of the Braganza.

Here's a shout out to a few articles that I refer to extensively:

'Arbitrary and cruel punishments': Trends in Royal Navy courts martial, 1860–1869 - Andrew Johnston, 2021

Mutiny in the Public Sphere Debating Naval Power in Parliament, the Press, and Gaskell's "North and South" MICHAEL D. LEWIS. Victorian Review, Vol. 36, No. 1 (Spring 2010)

From Slave Trade to Banking in Nineteenth-Century Spain by Martín Rodrigo y Alharilla, 2020