‘Yet this is but the beginning. Follow on, until you come to the sunken eyes, already repulsive with the fires of famine, to the gaunt and haggard faces, to the voices which can but whisper hoarsely as they seek to cast their accent the length of the boat, and to the boat herself that, as she sails softly along, throws out sweet, fountain-like rippling sounds of water to torture the thirsty wretches in her.
‘Her thwarts and insides dry and baked, and the sickening smell of paint rising with the heat from her blistered sides, yet only a week may have passed and more than a fortnight yet must elapse before those despairing, cadaverous, white-lipped men, should be lifted out of the jaws of death.
‘And for what? To be brought home and flung into prison.
‘Think of it. It is no question of imagination. A sailor will know how to trace these poor fellows, step by step, until the madness of Nature’s irrepressible cravings seizes them and humanity drops from them as a garment.
‘Is there no limit to endurance?’ He threw his arm out towards Tom and Stephens in the dock. ‘A healthy man dies hard. He cannot perish like a weaker man who comes quickly to privation. Nature insists upon the prolongation of the horrible struggle and his instincts leave him, whilst the clay of which he is formed still throbs with a dreadful vitality.
‘Let us in the name of the sailor, in the name of this country that owes him so much, let us be merciful in our judgement of Captain Dudley and his comrades. Twenty-four days in an open boat, at sea with a thousand horrors of mind and body to preface the dreadful deed. And then the companionship of the remains to follow, to abide with them under bright sunshine and to be with them for another, and yet another intolerable night, as darkness comes down with starlight enough to make a mutilated thing thrice horrible as it stares up white from the gloom in the bottom of the boat.
‘Think of it, I say, if the mind has power to bring true thought to bear on this most ghastly subject. Have they not suffered enough? Has memory failed them that penance must be imposed upon them in a prison cell and the expiation at the hands of a tribunal which, if it be not of Heaven, can never compass the significance of those weeks of anguish which forced them to the deed for which they are arraigned?’
He paused and wiped his eyes, as if moved by the power of his own oration. There was a deathly silence in the court, broken only by the sound of a woman sobbing. Then the people in the public seats began to applaud. Slow and hesitant at first, the sound grew in strength and volume. The police attempted to silence them, but men and women alike clapped their hands, stamped their feet on the wooden floor and raised their voices in shouts of support, the whole seafaring community finding its voice, united against outsiders in defence of its own.
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.’