Cotton on Trial

"No, Captain Padstowe did not leave it with me. He checked the time and said he had to leave, and left with it in his pocket." That was the answer to the first question. The second was just as easy. "I last looked in my bag yesterday morning, and everything was in order then."

"After he brought you the boat-cloak, did Cotton remain with the column? Did he try to approach you at all?"

"I took it while I was in conversation with one of my sergeants. We were about to march, so I told him to fall in, thinking he would be able to speak with me later."

"And did he try to do so?"

"He did not have an opportunity to do so. It is my belief that he would have done, but that is my opinion only."

Well at least Captain Vickery's faith in Cotton seemed unshaken. That was something, especially if he himself was the supposed victim of the theft - which was ridiculous. The watch wasn't even his.

Lieutenant Waldegrave took another look at Colonel Edrington, and stood up straight. In the time available he had found out what he could, and thought that, provided he kept his arguments simple, he should win. Allowing himself to stray - to the question of how the watch came to be with the column, not in Lisbon, and who put it in the baggage - would risk losing the case. Vickery could not prove anything about that either, just drop unsupported hints that it might have been so, that someone might have done this, or that, or held a grudge against Cotton.

He took a deep breath, and thought that, if he could get this right, it would not only serve to show that he had brains and subtlety, and was not the oaf that Edrington had apparently thought him. It would also show that when it came to discipline, the redcoats had the right idea. And that the riflemen had better watch their backs, if they didn't want said backs flogged raw.

"My Lord," he started, formally addressing Colonel Edrington. "Although we do not forget that the owner of this watch, Captain Padstowe, was seriously injured in an attack in Lisbon, an attack during which his watch was possibly stolen, that is not the question you have to decide. It does not matter, for the purpose of this trial, how the watch came to be found in Captain Vickery's bag. It is the actions of Cotton once he had found the watch that matter to us, this evening.

"Cotton did not know at that time whether the watch had become the property of Captain Vickery, or not. He did not ask. He did not leave the watch where it was until he could ask. Or take it to Captain Vickery. The Captain says that he was busy when Cotton arrived back with his cloak. Yet Cotton did not know that would be so when he left the baggage train. If Captain Vickery had been less busy, Cotton still could not have shown him the watch. Nor could he show it to him if an opportunity arose later. And there is, my lord, nothing to show that he intended to mention it at all." He smiled at Captain Vickery.

"Cotton believed, he says, that it had placed there in the night. He took the watch from the bag." He hesitated, looking towards Cotton. Had he done so? Evans had not seen him find it in the bag. He had simply said... A diversion from his purpose which was to convict Cotton here and now. But after the verdict, he would remind his lordship of what the woman had said - it would be another victory for the redcoats if Cotton were later tried and shot for the robbery, convicted on evidence drawn out by him.

"He took the watch from the bag and passed it to his woman, Evans, to keep for him. Of all the things a responsible servant could have done in these circumstances, my lord, this is the least explicable."

Waldegrave drew a deep breath. "If Cotton had intended to see the watch returned to its rightful owner, there are other actions he could have taken. He did not take them. He removed the watch from Captain Vickery's bag, and intended to keep it, and probably to sell it at some point, perhaps in a town on the way, using Evans, a trader of sorts, to do so. That is theft, and the charge should be upheld."

Maggie listened with growing concern until she could withold her protests no longer. "No! No! That's not--"

Williams grabbed her arm and shook her. "Hush, girl. The man is a mean bastard, and would as soon see you whipped as not. Don't go giving him an excuse"

The Colonel cast a cool glance at them, his attention attracted by Maggie's outburst, but turned back to listen to Waldegrave without any change of expression.

Cotton listened to the Lieutenant's speech, feeling worse and worse. Of course he hadn't meant for Maggie to sell it for him, but he'd been in such a tizzy with finding the thing so unexpectedly he hadn't been able to think straight.

And why had Captain Padstowe been walking anywhere he could've been jumped in the first place?

And the way Mister Waldegrave had put it, he stood condemned out of his own mouth. Well, his and Maggie's, which was much the same thing. And it was probably just because he wore a different coloured jacket to the officer.

He hoped Captain Vickery could at least persuade the Colonel to hand down a more lenient sentence than Waldegrave would like. And that fact that he was expecting a guilty verdict depressed him.

Edrington glanced to where the young woman had rashly called out, but fortunately she was silenced by the Inniskilling who seemed to be supporting her. He turned back as Waldegrave finished and said: "Thank you, Mr Waldegrave. What do you wish to say in Cotton's defence, Captain Vickery?"

Vickery's turn now, of course. The odds had been stacked against Cotton from the start, although Vickery remained firmly convinced of the man's innocence. And if anyone were to suggest he turn the man off as untrustworthy, he flattered himself that he was a good enough judge of character, and knew Cotton well enough, that such a thing would not happen, unless by mutual agreement between man and master.

"My lord," he began, hoping he could pull the rabbit out of the hat at the last, "what we have here is a simple case of confusion, panic and unfortunate circumstances. Rifleman Cotton has never been in trouble before, neither before joining the army, nor since enlisting. He is sent on a simple errand, one he no doubt thought nothing of completing.

"Imagine, if you will, his shock, horror and confusion when he discovers, in a bag untouched by either himself or his officer since the previous day, a pocket watch he does not recognise. It cannot be his officer's, for he has seen his officer is wearing his, as he always does." He pulled his watch from his pocket to show them. "It has a name on the back, but he cannot read it, so he asks a friend to decipher it for him. And she say that it reads J. M. Padstowe. And hearing that name reminds him of the last time he saw Captain Padstowe, at a private dinner where he waited at table.

"It also reminds him of a threat - or perhaps he needs no reminding, for it has hit him full force. A threat by one he cannot accuse, protected as the man is by rank. A threat that he would be set up for a fall and set up in such a way that he must be guilty, and has no defence.

"He is worried and a little panicked. His friend suggests maybe the person who left the watch there may come back for it, and he thinks that maybe if that does happen, other things will go missing too. She suggests that the only sure way to ensure he does not get in trouble is for her to take the watch until such time as they can speak to his officer.

"He has no time to think, and cannot think straight at the moment anyway. He has to complete his errand. He agrees, unaware that by doing so he looks more guilty than he otherwise would. Cool and calm under fire, he is now unable to concentrate and think of a better alternative. He lets her take the watch. Before he can inform his officer that there is trouble brewing, there is a squabble and it is discovered, by an officer.

"My lord, Rifleman Cotton is the victim of circumstance and an act of ill-will. I suggest to you that he and his friend were simply two young people who did not know what to do for the best, and panicked." He stepped back and bowed slightly.

Captain Vickery finished speaking and Edrington nodded in acknowledgement. The explanation sounded plausible, until you realised that there was no evidence to support it. No evidence of the existence of this unnamed - well, unnamed in front of the court - enemy, who had ... What was the suggestion? That this Sergeant had left a valuable watch in a position where Cotton would be tempted to steal it? But that did not make him not guilty. It was only Waldegrave's curiosity that had led to the discovery of the watch, which meant that there was no evidence to support the idea that the pair would have reported it. To accept as a valid defence the claim that they had panicked would open the door to total chaos - any soldier charged with anything from cowardice to assault on an officer could claim to have acted out of panic - and in many cases it would be true, but would not mitigate the offence.

"The charge is theft. If a sheep strays and is found and kept by another, that is stealing, just as if he had driven it from the flock himself. In this case, Cotton found a watch, that he knew was not his, and did not make any arrangements to have it restored to its owner. On the contrary, he gave it to another person to ensure that it was not found on his person if a search were instituted. I find the case against Rifleman Cotton proved."

Edrington shifted his gaze from Captain Vickery to Cotton and back. "Have you anything to say before I pass sentence?" he asked the Captain.

There was a low gasp from beside him and he glanced in the Rifleman's direction. Cotton looked stricken, and it was by sheer act of will that he brought his expression under control. Only Vickery could see how he was trembling, as he fought to remain in control of himself.

He could not believe it himself. He gathered his wits and tried to do his best, though his best did not seem good enough now.

"Rifleman Cotton is an exemplary soldier, my lord," Vickery said. "I have never found fault with him, in the year since he joined the 60th. He has never been in trouble before, and is steady and sober in his conduct. He has performed his duties as batman with all due care and I have never had cause for complaint. I would ask that you take his character into consideration, my lord."

Waldegrave moved forward as Vickery finished speaking. Some officers saw it as their duty to ensure that their men did not receive the punishment they deserved, no doubt hoping to curry favour. Others thought that exemplary punishment made the men more biddable. Waldegrave looked at the stricken faces of the accused and his woman and smiled.

"My lord," he said. "Captain Vickery has spoken as he should, but I ask for due punishment to show the men - all the men - that regulations and laws will be applied fairly." He saluted and stepped back.

Vickery's face was black. "Lieutenant, you had your say and should have said that then. And how do my Riflemen know that this is fair and that a redcoat would get the same punishment? In other words, how do they know that they are not being treated differently, because of the colour of their jackets."

Edrington gestured angrily to Waldegrave before the young Lieutenant could reply. "I think it is for me to say who shall speak. Although I did not need Mr Waldegrave's advice, it is not unreasonable for the prosecution to advise on an appropriate sentence, once I have given my verdict."

He studied some papers for a moment and then continued: "And your Riflemen will know that they are treated in the same way as the 62nd, because they will see the same standards applied across the board. By me, and by my officers. I do not appreciate the implication that my decision is automatically unfair because the accused wears a green jacket. So mind what you say, Captain."

He waited for a moment to control his irritation, and to confirm inwardly that it was not affecting his judgement. "On the charge of theft of a watch, the property of Captain Padstowe of the 50th Regiment, I sentence Rifleman Cotton to two hundred lashes, to be carried out tomorrow at dawn."

Cotton closed his eyes for a moment, trying to make his brain understand what his ears had just heard.

Guilty... two hundred lashes... dawn... tomorrow... two hundred lashes...

How could he face Maggie now? She'd been sweetheart to a Corporal. Why would she want to associate with a flogged soldier?

He bit the inside of his lip, trying to control his emotions and hide his shock and despair.

And why couldn't they get it over and done with, instead of leaving him feeling as though he was facing the gallows? Two hundred lashes...

He opened his eyes to find nothing had changed. And yet everything had changed and his whole world had just come crashing down around him.

Maggie was still reeling from the colonel's pronouncement - Gabriel proven to be a thief - and she couldn't quite comprehend the situation. What about Hakeswill and Padstowe? What about Mister Sharpe giving evidence?

And now the sentence... She blinked stupidly, staring at the colonel. Had he made a mistake? Wasn't he going to realize his mistake and correct it? Two hundred lashes couldn't be right. No, no, Gabriel wasn't going to be flogged. No, it wasn't finished yet. There was more testimony... No! Two hundred lashes would - how could a man bear it?

"He'll die," she murmured quietly. Just like Jem. She was speaking to Williams but not looking at him. Instead she was staring at Cotton as if for the last time. "They're going to kill him. They'll kill him. He'll die."

"No, not from two hundred," said Williams, although as shocked as Maggie. "It's - there's lads in our lot who've had five hundred, and marched with the rest the same day. I don't say Cotton will be quite up to... " He put an arm round her shoulder, like a friend should to a friend. "You just be there for him when it's over. Just show him that you're still his woman. That's what'll worry him. "

She didn't hear a word he said. Her eyes were staring at Gabe's red collar facing, staring without seeing, numb and absent. Am I dreaming now? Am I dead? a ghost?

"I need to sit down..."

It was over. The Rifleman looked just as stricken as Sharpe had felt ten years ago at a sentence of ten times that. Two hundred.. It was what he had received, and he had walked away, God only knew how.

The Colonel seemed to be getting his things together, and he crossed to him. "May I have a word, my lord?" he asked, pointedly ignoring Lieutenant Waldegrave.

Waldegrave saw the Inniskilling put an arm round the woman's shoulders and looked to see if the Rifleman had noticed. It hadn't taken her long to find a new protector, he thought. He ought to have made sure that she'd got her punishment too. It was clear that it was her idea: the Rifleman might even have managed to wriggle out from beneath the charge, if he had wanted to blame her. Waldegrave was glad that he hadn't done so though. Two hundred lashes. Not unsatisfactory.

He saw Sharpe approach the Colonel, and smiled inwardly. This one had not even been one of the 95th. Just a rifleman.

Edrington looked up. He felt tired, and annoyed with Riflemen in general, but Sharpe had done nothing to warrant that reaction. "Of course, Mr Sharpe, as many as you like. Which are you unhappy with, the verdict or the sentence?"

How should he say what he needed to say?

"Neither. The sentence is quite right... if he is in fact guilty." He held up a hand to ward off the Colonel's words and exasperation. "Yes, I know you've just had a court-martial to determine that, sir. But I mean further back. What if he was set up? There would be nothing to prove his innocence. I've seen it before, more times than I can count, and always somewhere nearby there was a Sergeant of the 33rd, name of Hakeswill."

He rapidly sketched an account of his own mugging and the subsequent trial of Private Williams. "I don't know how Cotton got tangled up with Hakeswill, but he was at the trial and helped Williams afterwards, when the shock had set in. And I don't believe it would take much for Hakeswill to have selected him as his next victim, sir."