To these specifications of noble conduct, and extra service, might have been added those of eaves-dropping and delation—capacity to find the same symptoms of guilt in opposite words and acts—sitting in council to judge three men whom they had agreed with Gansevoort two days before to hang if necessary to make more arrests, and which arrests, four in number, were made with their concurrence and full approbation. Finally, he might have told that this Heiskill was a link in the chain of the revelation of the mutinous and piratical plot. He was the purser of whom Wales was the steward, and to whom Wales revealed the plot—he then revealing to Gansevoort—and Gansevoort to Mackenzie. It was, then, through his subordinate (and who was then stealing his liquor) and himself that the plot was detected.
A general presentation of government thanks to all the officers, is next requested by the lieutenant:
"I respectfully request that the thanks of the Navy Department may be presented to all the officers of the Somers, for their exertions in the critical situation in which she has been placed. It is true they have but performed their duty, but they have performed it with fidelity and zeal."
The purser's steward, Wales, is then specially and encomiastically presented, and a specific high reward solicited for him:
"I respectfully submit, that Mr. J. W. Wales, by his coolness, his presence of mind, and his fidelity, has rendered to the American navy a memorable service. I had a trifling difficulty with him, not discreditable to his character, on the previous cruise to Porto Rico—on that account he was sought out, and tampered with. But he was honest, patriotic, humane; he resisted temptation, was faithful to his flag, and was instrumental in saving it from dishonor. A pursership in the navy, or a handsome pecuniary reward, would after all be an inconsiderable recompense, compared with the magnitude of his services."
Of this individual the commander had previously reported a contrivance to make a mistake in doubling the allowed quantity of brandy carried out on the cruise, saying: "By accident, as it was thought at the time, but subsequent developments would rather go to prove by design, he (Wales) had contrived to make a mistake, and the supply of brandy was ordered from two different groceries; thus doubling the quantity intended to be taken." Of this double supply of brandy thus contrived to be taken out, the commander reports Wales for continual "stealing" of it—always adding that he was seduced into these "thefts" by Spencer. Being a temperance man, the commander eschews the use of this brandy on board, except furtively for the corruption of the crew by Spencer through the seduction of the steward: thus: "None of the brandy was used in the mess, and all of it is still on board except what was stolen by the steward at the request of Mr. Spencer, and drank by him, and those he endeavored to corrupt." By his own story this Wales comes under the terms of Lord Hale's idea of a "desperate villain"—a fellow who joins in a crime, gets the confidence of accomplices, then informs upon them, gets them hanged, and receives a reward. This was the conduct of Wales upon his own showing: and of such informers the pious and mild Lord Hale judicially declared his abhorrence—held their swearing unworthy of credit unless corroborated—said that they had done more mischief in getting innocent people punished than they had ever done good in bringing criminals to justice. Upon this view of his conduct, then, this Wales comes under the legal idea of a desperate villain. Legal presumptions would leave him in this category but the steward and the commander have not left it there. They have lifted a corner of the curtain which conceals an unmentionable transaction, to which these two persons were parties—which was heard of, but not understood by the crew—which was hugger-muggered into a settlement between them about the time of Spencer's arrest, though originating the preceding cruise—which neither would explain—which no one could name—and of which Heiskill, the intermediate between his steward and the commander, could know nothing except that it was of a "delicate nature," and that it had been settled between them. The first hint of this mysterious transaction was in the commander's report—in his proud commendation of this steward for a pursership in the United States Navy—and evidently to rehabilitate his witness, and to get a new lick at Spencer. The hint runs thus: "I had a trifling difficulty, not discreditable to his character, on the previous cruise to Porto Rico." On the trial the purser Heiskill was interrogated as to the nature of this difficulty between his subordinate and his superior. To the question—"Did he know any thing, and what, about a misunderstanding between the steward and the commander at Porto Rico?" he answered, "he knew there was a misunderstanding, which Wales told him was explained to the satisfaction of the commander." To the further question, "Was it of a delicate nature?" the answer was, "yes, sir." To the further question, as to the time when this misunderstanding was settled? the purser answered: "I do not know—some time since, I believe." Asked if it was before the arrest? he answers: "I think Mr. Wales spoke of this matter before the arrest." Pressed to tell, if it was shortly before the arrest, the purser would neither give a long nor a short time, but ignored the inquiry with the declaration, "I won't pretend to fix upon a time." Wales himself interrogated before the court, as to the fact of this misunderstanding, and also as to what it was? admitted the fact, but refused its disclosure. His answer, as it stands in the official report of the trial is: "I had a difficulty, but decline to explain it." And the obliging court submitted to the contempt of this answer.
Left without information in a case so mysterious, and denied explanation from those who could give it, history can only deal with the facts as known, and with the inferences fairly resulting from them; and, therefore, can only say, that there was an old affair between the commander and the purser's steward, originating in a previous voyage, and settled in this one, and settled before the arrest of midshipman Spencer; and secondly, that the affair was of so delicate a nature as to avoid explanation from either party. Now the word "delicate" in this connection, implies something which cannot be discussed without danger—something which will not bear handling, or exposure—and in which silence and reserve are the only escapes from a detection worse than any suspicion. And thus stands before history the informer upon the young Spencer—the thief of brandies, the desperate villain according to Lord Hale's classification, and the culprit of unmentionable crime, according to his own implied admission. Yet this man is recommended for a pursership in the United States navy, or a handsome pecuniary reward; while any court in Christendom would have committed him for perjury, on his own showing, in his swearing before the court-martial.
Sergeant Michael H. Garty is then brought forward; thus:
"Of the conduct of Sergeant Michael H. Garty (of the marines) I will only say it was worthy of the noble corps to which he has the honor to belong. Confined to his hammock by a malady which threatened to be dangerous, at the moment when the conspiracy was discovered, he rose upon his feet a well man. Throughout the whole period, from the day of Mr. Spencer's arrest to the day after our arrival, and until the removal of the mutineers, his conduct was calm, steady, and soldierlike. But when his duty was done, and health was no longer indispensable to its performance, his malady returned upon him, and he is still in his hammock. In view of this fine conduct, I respectfully recommend that Sergeant Garty be promoted to a second lieutenancy in the marine corps. Should I pass without dishonor through the ordeal which probably awaits me, and attain in due time to the command of a vessel entitled to a marine officer, I ask no better fortune than to have the services of Sergeant Garty in that capacity."
Now here is something like a miracle. A bedridden man to rise up a well man the moment his country needed his services, and to remain a well man to the last moment those services required, and then to fall down a bedridden man again. Such a miracle implies a divine interposition which could only be bottomed on a full knowledge of the intended crime, and a special care to prevent it. It is quite improbable in itself, and its verity entirely marred by answers of this sergeant to certain questions before the court-martial. Thus: "When were you on the sick list in the last cruise?" Answer: "I was twice on the list: the last time about two days." Now these two days must be that hammock confinement from the return of the malady which immediately ensued on the removal of the mutineers (the twelve from the Somers to the North Carolina guardship at New York), and which seemed as chronic and permanent as it was before the arrest. Questioned further, whether he "remained in his hammock the evening of Spencer's arrest?" the answer is, "Yes, sir: I was in and out of it all that night." So that the rising up a well man does not seem to have been so instantaneous as the commander's report would imply. The sergeant gives no account of this malady which confined him to his hammock in the marvellous way the commander reports. He never mentioned it until it was dragged out of him on cross-examination. He was on the sick list. That does not imply bedridden. Men are put on the sick list for a slight indisposition: in fact, to save them from sickness. Truth is, this Garty seems to have been one of the class of which every service contains some specimens—scamps who have a pain, and get on the sick list when duty runs hard; and who have no pain, and get on the well list, as soon as there is something pleasant to do. In this case the sergeant seems to have had a pleasant occupation from the alacrity with which he fulfilled it, and from the happy relief which it procured him from his malady as long as it lasted. That occupation was superintendent of the bagging business. It was he who attended to the wearing and fitting of the bags—seeing that they were punctually put on when a prisoner was made, tightly tied over the head of nights, and snugly drawn round the neck during the day. To this was added eavesdropping and delating, and swearing before all the courts, and in this style before the council of officers: "Thinks there are some persons at large that would voluntarily assist the prisoners if they had an opportunity."—"Thinks if the prisoners were at large the brig would certainly be in great danger."—"Thinks there are persons adrift yet, who, if opportunity offered, would rescue the prisoners."—"Thinks the vessel would be safer if Cromwell, Spencer, and Small were put to death."—"Thinks Cromwell a desperate fellow."—"Thinks their object (that of Cromwell and Spencer), in taking slavers, would be to convert them to their own use, and not to suppress the slave trade." All this was swearing like a sensible witness, who knew what was wanted, and would furnish it. It covered all the desired points. More arrests were wanted at that time to justify the hanging of the prisoners on hand: he thinks more arrests ought to be made. The fear of a rescue was wanted: he thinks there will be a rescue attempted. The execution of the prisoners is wanted: he thinks the vessel would be safer if they were all three put to death. And it was for these noble services—bagging prisoners, eavesdropping, delating, swearing to what was wanted—that this sergeant had his marvellous rise-up from a hammock, and was now recommended for an officer of marines. History repulses the marvel which the commander reports. A kind Providence may interpose for the safety of men and ships, but not through an agent who is to bag and suffocate innocent men—to eaves-drop and delate—to swear in all places, and just what was wanted—all by thoughts, and without any thing to bottom a thought upon. Certainly this Sergeant Garty, from his stomach for swearing, must have something in common, besides nativity, with Mr. Jemmy O'Brien; and, from his alacrity and diligence in taking care of prisoners, would seem to have come from the school of the famous Major Sirr, of Irish rebellion memory.