Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
A TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE
Colonel Barrow convened a court martial two days later to try Major Weekes on the charges of attempted rape against Miss Emily Barrow.
Richard was commanded to remain for the proceedings; although his ship was supposed to sail with the tide, the colonel had ordered the captain to remain in port until the trial was over.
Colonel Barrow recused himself from the role of Judge Advocate, since the crime was against his own daughter.
Instead, he had sent for Colonel Macintosh from Fort St Catherine to oversee the proceedings.
Colonel Macintosh arrived on the ferry the following evening. He had little time to waste on these affairs and commanded that the court conduct its proceedings at first light the next day so he might return to his home fort as soon as it was possible.
And so it was that, instead of boarding his ship to return to England, Richard walked into the room used for the trial, there to give his evidence against Jared Weekes.
The room was not full. There were required to be five commissioned officers present as a panel to pass judgment upon the accused, but Colonel Barrow insisted upon there being no more attending.
It would not do to sow unnecessary trouble within the cadre of men, especially in a regiment where Weekes held unusual social power, and neither did he wish to make Emily tell her tale to more men than necessary.
He had, however, little say in which officers they were to be.
Major Oxley, who had been a friend to Richard and a supporter of Barrow, had recently returned home, and Lieutenant Colonel Rushworthy was at Macintosh’s own fort on the far end of the island, where he was busy with the men for some weeks.
Only Major Moreson stood surely in Barrow’s camp.
The other officers were all Weekes’ minions.
First among them, looking smart in his red regimentals and polished boots, was Simmond, whose card game Richard had broken up during his first few days in this commission.
The others were likewise gaming friends of the accused.
They had never displayed any hint of insubordination against Colonel Barrow, but if pressed they would surely pledge their loyalty to their friend Weekes rather than to their commanding officer.
And thus, the trial began. The panel of officers walked in, smart in their full dress uniforms and hats, followed by Colonel Macintosh, Weekes’ advocate, one of Macintosh’s men from Fort St Catherine, and then Jared Weekes himself, in dress uniform but without his hat.
Richard and Emily were already present to give their testimony, with Colonel Barrow by his daughter’s side.
The proceedings were simple. Emily was summoned to give her account of the attack, which she did with halting breath but a firm and stoic demeanour.
“I had decided to take a short walk upon the walls. It was near dark, and I believed myself to be alone. Then I heard a noise and before I knew anything else, Major Weekes was upon me. He tried to kiss me and he attempted to wrestle me to the ground, but I resisted. I struggled and fought back, scratching his face, as you see, and in his attempt to subdue me, he ripped and destroyed my frock. Then Lieutenant Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared, and he subdued the major, immediately upon which, we called for help.”
The officers began muttering, and Colonel Macintosh had to regain order.
“How do you know it was Major Weekes?” Weekes’ advocate asked Emily.
“I saw him with my eyes!” She sounded surprised at the question.
“But it was dark, was it not? Was there light enough to see?”
“It was certainly he who was bound and brought before my father after Lieutenant Colonel Fitzwilliam saved me from him! There was no question!”
“And what evidence have we that you did not invite his advances? That you did not arrange this tryst, and only when Lieutenant Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared did you change your story?”
The officers seemed to approve of this line of thought. They smiled and nodded, and the visiting colonel appeared to take strength from this show of support.
“What?” Emily’s voice was filled with outrage. “I have never entertained Major Weekes’ advances; indeed, he has not made any towards me for a very long time, since first I told him that I was not interested in that sort of company.”
“But I offer this theory,” said the advocate, “that you invited his company, and only when Lieutenant Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived did you rip your own garb to make it seem as though you had not acquiesced to a dalliance. Still, we shall let the panel of officers decide.”
And with that, Emily was summarily excused from providing more testimony.
Richard’s account was simple. “I was standing in the fields when I saw Miss Barrow upon the far walls. Then I saw another mount the stairs after her and force himself upon her. I rushed over as quickly as I could and fought the attacker to the ground before calling for help. It was Major Weekes. There was no question. And by Miss Barrow’s fierce struggle, and the bruise on his face, his attentions to her were not welcome. ”
He was asked no questions and was allowed to stand down.
Finally, Weekes had the opportunity to defend himself.
“I counter all these allegations,” he proclaimed.
“They are all lies. Outright lies!” His band of supporters nodded their heads.
“It is as my advocate claimed: I joined Miss Barrow at her express invitation. I see now that it was a ploy to entrap me, for Fitzwilliam was surely hidden in the shadows, there to attack me without provocation and set the men against me, all by prior planning.”
“And why,” Colonel Macintosh asked, “should he have done this?”
“Do you not know?” Weekes widened his eyes.
“He has been against me from the start. From the very first weeks of his arrival here, he has been engaging in pranks upon me.
Some were benign, others more dangerous.
He decided that my amusing games, which the other men enjoy so much, were an insult to him, and he set about doing everything in his power to stop me, one way or another.
“He threw rocks at me, tried to poison my food, set about sabotaging my work by replacing my ink with water, even trying to throw me down a flight of stairs!”
Colonel Macintosh looked askance at this comment. “And what evidence do we have for these ‘pranks,’ as you call them? Did you report them to Colonel Barrow?”
Weekes shook his head. “I had no evidence. But I knew it was him. But I did tell my companions, even these very men here to pass judgement upon me. They knew about it all from the beginning.”
“And this latest incident with Miss Barrow?”
“It was the final act, his final strike before returning to England with his tail between his legs.
They came up with it together and nearly succeeded.
Here I stand, covered in the bruises he inflicted upon me, with only my good name and the evidence of my fellow officers to defend me against such scurrilous lies that these two speak as they perjure themselves.
“Their only ‘evidence’ is that which they decided between them. I protest my innocence!”
Richard felt his blood thrum in his head as Weekes spoke.
How could he? How could he stand there, so calm and assured, whilst blaming Richard for perpetrating all those very heinous acts which he—Weekes himself—had committed?
How could he lie so smoothly? This was not a man of sound mind! How could anybody believe him?
And yet the panel of officers, Weekes’ friends, were still nodding and cooing their agreement, and Colonel Macintosh’s lips were pursed as he sought to tell one side from the other.
“Colonel Barrow? What say you to this?”
Barrow stood. “Lieutenant Colonel Fitzwilliam was surely the victim here, not the perpetrator of these pranks. He spoke to me from the very first incident. And yet we had no evidence and could not act. Still, he hardly threw himself down the stairs only a week past. Nor did he rifle through his own rooms and fill his trunk full of dead fish whilst he was meeting with me. This last I saw with my own eyes.”
“Could he not have done so, had some other carry out the task on his behalf? Men have done many a worse thing in their attempts at revenge.” The advocate spoke again.
“As for throwing himself down the stairs, perhaps he merely tripped and made up a story to cast blame in his endless attempts to discredit Major Weekes.”
“But I saw him—” Emily exclaimed, only to be told in no uncertain terms that she had given all the evidence she was to be allowed. Her face grew almost purple with fury, but Macintosh would not hear another word from her.
There was little else to be said. Evidence had been given and heard, and the panel of officers retired to discuss the case.
Richard held out little hope of a good outcome.
The men were in Weekes’ pocket; they were his cronies and likely in debt to him, and upon a judgement in favour of the major, might have some of their debts forgiven.
This was a travesty of a trial, and his blood boiled.
Soon enough, the five officers returned to the room. Their determination was as Richard had feared. Due to conflicting accounts, there was insufficient evidence to convict Major Weekes of the charges of assault against Miss Barrow, and he was set free.
There would be no justice served this cruel day.
With this pronouncement, the group broke up at once.
Colonel Barrow ushered Emily quickly to their suite.
“I will not have you around that man again. I will insist he be transferred elsewhere so you can be safe.” She turned around to cast one more glance upon Richard but followed her father without another word.
Weekes reclaimed his hat from the anteroom to the chamber, where his friends had left it for him, and paraded out after them with a smirk of triumph upon his gloating face.