Neil Hanson - The Custom of the Sea

Danckwerts was on his feet protesting and Liddicoat added to the clamour, pounding the bench with his gavel and calling for order, but the noise continued to swell. The applause was taken up by the crowds still waiting in the street outside. Tom turned his head and could see faces pressed against the window, yelling and cheering.

The demonstration continued for some minutes before Liddicoat finally made himself heard, shouting at the top of his voice and beating a tattoo with his gavel. ‘Silence! Silence! I will have silence in this court or the public will be ejected.’

The noise slowly abated. Liddicoat then turned to Tilly. ‘This is a magistrates’ court, Mr Tilly. There is no jury to be swayed by your powers of oratory. Be so good as to confine any further remarks to topics that will assist us in our deliberations without further inflaming the passions of the public.’

Tilly bowed his head. ‘If Your Worships are still open on the point as to whether you will commit the defendants to trial, I shall be pleased to address some further remarks. But if you are not, I would not presume to take up any more of the time of the court.’

Liddicoat nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr Tilly, I think we will retire.’

Tilly turned to Tom and shook his head.

The magistrates returned within five minutes and resumed their seats. Liddicoat’s face was grave. ‘The bench have come to the decision that the charge against the prisoners is of too grave and important a character for us to decide upon. We have therefore agreed to commit the prisoners to be tried by a jury of their fellow countrymen.’

There was a growing rumble of dissent from the public section.

Tilly stood up. ‘I ask that they should be liberated on bail. John Burton will again stand surety for them.’

Liddicoat began his answer before Tilly had finished speaking. ‘The bench accedes to your request and admits them to the same bail as before.’

The chairman of the Southampton magistrates was again ready to stand bail for Stephens, but John Burton once more stood surety for both men.

The mutterings from the public benches turned to cheers, which the police made only a token attempt to silence. The clock outside struck the half-hour. It was five thirty: the committal proceedings had occupied six and a half hours.

Stephens had showed a great deal of emotion throughout the hearing, frequently leaning forward and burying his head in his hands, but Tom had kept his face impassive, though he had burned with anger when Brooks had walked to the witness box to testify against them. When he left the dock, however, he relaxed, lost control of himself and burst into tears.

Tilly put a hand on his shoulder and stood by him until he had controlled himself. ‘I am sorry, Captain Dudley, I have done my best for you, but I am afraid that the magistrates knew their minds before they sat down this morning. It is always easier to duck a hard decision and let someone other than yourself take it, is it not?’

‘What will—’ Tom broke off as he caught sight of Brooks. He pushed his way through the crowd of people to reach him. He gave a start and flinched as Tom took his arm, and could not meet his eye.

‘So, Brooks, you’re a free man,’ Tom said, his voice even, but his gaze fixed on him. ‘Mr Danckwerts seemed at great pains to claim that there had been no agreement with you to testify against us.’

Brooks said nothing, his eyes darting over the throng of people around them. ‘I did not kill him, Captain.’

He tried to pull away but Tom held him fast. ‘You did not. You had not the stomach for that. But you were quick enough to seek your share while the boy’s blood was still flowing, and you ate heartily enough of his body.’ He paused. ‘Did you not shake my hand a score of times that day, say that I had saved us all and that if we were ever fortunate enough to see our native land, you would not rest until you had repaid me?’

Brooks kept his head down.

‘And this is the repayment? Will you sleep soundly in your bed tonight?’ Tom stood looking at him a moment longer, then released his grip, turned on his heel and walked away.

Tilly was still waiting for him.

‘What will happen now?’ Tom said.

‘You’ll be tried at the Winter Assizes at Exeter in a fortnight’s time.’

‘And you will defend us there?’

Tilly shook his head. ‘I cannot. A solicitor is permitted to appear before the magistrates, but not one of Her Majesty’s justices. You will need a barrister, but I shall obtain you the best that we can find… and afford.’

‘Then he will not be much of a barrister,’ Tom said, ‘for the money I had is already gone. I cannot go to sea and earn my living and as of today my wife is no longer in employment either.’

‘The man I would recommend — and fearing today’s decision, I have already taken the liberty of speaking to him on your behalf — is Arthur Collins. You will not, I think, find a more able advocate of your cause in the whole of the West of England. He was called to the bar at Gray’s Inn twenty-four years ago and has been a Queen’s Counsel these last seven years and the recorder of Exeter the last five.’ He smiled. ‘He has two other things to recommend him: he’s a West Countryman and a keen yachtsman.’

‘But the fees such an eminent gentleman must command would be well beyond our reach.’

‘We shall see,’ Tilly said. ‘I know that moves are afoot to raise funds for your defence and Mr Collins is very eager to take the case. Meet him at least, and meanwhile we shall see what can be done to help meet your costs.’

‘And your own bill?’

‘A small matter and one that is far from pressing. The good folk of Falmouth have already contributed a part of it. We will talk of it in good time. Let us first concentrate our minds on securing your acquittal.’

Tom again felt tears welling in his eyes. ‘Mr Tilly, all three—’ He checked himself. ‘Stephens and I are more grateful to you than I can say. You have worked hard in our cause and it is through no failing of yours that we are not already free men.’

Tilly gestured with his hand as if to brush away Tom’s words. ‘I shall forward all the papers on the case to Arthur Collins. He has chambers in London and I shall instruct his clerk to arrange an appointment there later this week, if that is convenient?

‘Then I shall bid you good-day and good luck, Captain Dudley. I trust this business will soon be behind you and please do me the honour of calling on me when next you put into Falmouth.’ He shook Tom’s hand and walked away.

The late conclusion to the court proceedings meant that both Tom and Stephens had to spend the night in Falmouth and leave for home the next morning. Stephens returned to Southampton by boat after being offered free passage home on the Lady Wodehouse by J. E. le Feuvre, another Southampton magistrate and a prominent member of Stephens’s masonic lodge.

Tom left Falmouth on the first train the next morning. Despite the early hour, Cheesman was again there to see him off. Tom spent the night at home in Sutton, then travelled up to Tollesbury to see his sister. His father remained on his ship in the Americas, though he would almost certainly have heard of Tom’s plight from reports in the American newspapers.

Tom’s financial situation was every bit as desperate as he had painted it to Tilly. The Newtown School Board had already told Philippa that she would be obliged to resign her post as mistress if he was committed for trial. The Dudleys now faced a rapidly rising legal bill with no income other than sporadic hardship grants from Andrew Thompson’s Thames Yacht Agency.

The following week, Thompson wrote to The Times , announcing a public subscription to defray the expenses of the men’s defence, pointing out that they were unable to earn their living while facing court proceedings and were unable to meet the costs.