Buccaneer (32 page)

“You mean the Roundheads confiscated it? The land and the house?”

“All of it. And the estate down at Saltwood and the small one at Ilex. My father and my brother have escaped to France.”

“He caught us once, the Earl did. Your father, sir. Dad had two hares and I had a rabbit. He was out riding and had stopped to watch something so we didn’t spot him. But he spotted us and while we was netting some rabbit holes (my brother had a ferret in his pocket) his lordship was on us!”

“What did he do?” Yorke asked, curious.

“Well, he asked us what we’d caught so far, and we said, two hares an’ a rabbit. So he pointed his riding crop at the nets and when he found the ferret wasn’t in, he said to put him in, and he’d take a hare for every three rabbits the ferret raised. Well, the ferret raised six, so we gave him our two hares and he let us keep the seven rabbits.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, sir, he just rode off. He warned us against taking deer, because he said if his gamekeepers caught us with one they’d take us straight before a Justice, and no meat was worth transportation. So we never did. We kept on poaching his rabbits, but they were so thick they were ruining the crops and hedgerows.”

Ned was amused at this poacher’s view of his father, yet not surprised. The Earl was a kindly man with a sense of humour. The idea of trading two of his own hares with poachers in exchange for seven of his own rabbits would amuse him, and to avoid having the gamekeepers going racing round the estate to catch these impudent poachers, he would have told some tall story when he gave the hares to the kitchen staff.

John Lobb was a good seaman. As the two of them walked round the ship he suggested several alterations in the way ropes were led, all intended to make it easier to handle the ship in action. He had already talked to Burton about the guns, explaining their experience in the
Peleus
and describing how their actions were rarely against ships; more often than not they were on shore, acting as soldiers and attacking a small town.

Yorke had listened to Lobb’s discourse and realized that this was a part of buccaneering that Whetstone had not described. Ned decided that Whetstone, this enormously cheerful, confident and competent man, had one failing: he assumed that everyone was as confident, competent and knowledgeable as himself. But for Lobb, neither Ned nor Saxby would have started training their ships’ companies in land fighting. Fortunately there were exactly a dozen former soldiers among the men taken as prisoners of war by Cromwell, Irishmen at places like Drogheda and Wexford, and Scots after Dunbar.

Ned and Lobb assembled the eight still remaining on board the
Griffin
and explained that they were needed as instructors and that two of them should go over to the
Phoenix
so that each of the two ships had six soldiers who would be responsible for training the others.

Burton, as the
Griffin
’s gunner, was anxious to start at once and Yorke put the six soldiers in his charge. Within the hour men were racing across the
Griffin
’s decks clutching pike, musket, cutlass or pistol, and Lobb was teaching three or four of them the finer points of swordplay, using cutlasses made of wood and showing them the advantage of holding a dagger in the left hand, ready to stab an opponent who could be spun to leave his right side exposed. A couple of sacks, filled with sand from the beach and slung from the shrouds so that they hung at the height of a man’s chest and belly, made targets for pikemen, although Lobb kept a man busy sweeping up the sand as it trickled from the holes made by the pikeheads.

Aurelia, standing at the poop with Ned and watching jabbing pikes, slashing cutlass blades (even if they were made of wood) and yelling men leaping over guns and running along the bulwarks holding muskets and pistols, said quietly: “I think this is more like real buccaneering than stealing grain from Riohacha.”

“Different shopkeepers sell different sorts of goods,” Ned said. “It seems to me, though, the buccaneer is the kind of shopkeeper who has to have everything in stock, though he might never sell all of it.”

Aurelia said, matter-of-factly: “Diana can use a pistol and a musket, knows how to load a cannon, and can use a cutlass and pike.”

Ned could see what was coming next and tried to avoid it. “She can do these things perhaps, but I doubt if she has ever killed a man yet!”

“She has, five. One she shot with a pistol just as he was going to cut Thomas across the head from behind with a cutlass.”

“Five, eh?” Ned said nonchalantly. “Who looks after the wounded?”

“Oh, she does. But,” Aurelia pointed out with chilling logic, “there are never wounded to attend to until
after
the fight. As she says, they don’t fight pitched battles; it is always a quick raid. There aren’t enough of them to fight companies of soldiers. Thomas says the buccaneer has to be like a mosquito – fly in quickly, sting and get out quickly.”

“You are becoming quite an expert on buccaneering,” he said, and was ashamed of the hint of a sneer in his voice.

Even if Aurelia noticed it, she ignored it. “There are not many of us,” she said simply, “and one mistake over the size of the enemy could kill us all. Diana saved Thomas with her pistol; I would feel more confident if I had a pistol and could be close to you.”

Ned had no intention of ever letting Aurelia land with a raiding party, but obviously now was not the time to tell her. Now was the time to be enthusiastic; to encourage her. This was not the moment to tell her that she was the only thing in the world that he valued, and having her translate Spanish a couple of times was the limit of the risks he was going to let her take.

“Yes, I’ll have a word with Burton. You won’t bother with muskets, will you? They are very heavy and even though you fire them using a rest, they give a terrible kick. A pistol will be fine.”

She thought about it. “Yes, Diana said she doesn’t carry a musket after the first time because it was so heavy and bruised her shoulder when she fired it. So pistol, pike and cutlass.”

He could imagine her saying to Mrs Bullock at the plantation house in the same tone of voice: “The master will be late for dinner tonight, so I shall eat alone.”

By next day the hold had been swept clean of grains of maize and the sweeping had yielded enough to fill two sacks. One of the men was hammering the grains before putting them into a pestle to make fresh maize bread as a welcome change from the usual black bread and occasional white. All Lobb’s suggestions for improving the rig had been adopted and most of the men on board had blistered hands and bruised shoulders from drill with various weapons.

Thomas and Diana came over in the late afternoon, Thomas admitting as he climbed up the ladder that he was intrigued by all the bustle that had been going on in the
Griffin
. Instead of answering him, Ned led him forward to where Burton was watching avidly as Aurelia sorted out the pieces of a matchlock pistol spread out on a blanket and began reassembling them, naming each part and its function as she did so.

Thomas, who had stopped so that she could not see him, said gruffly to Ned: “You know, for a couple of peaceful fellows we seem to have chosen a pair of warlike women. I don’t believe in it, but ever since Diana shot a Spaniard stone dead just as he was going to cut me in half like a wheel of cheese, I’ve had to let her land with us.”

“Aurelia has the same idea, but I shall refuse.”

“I’m sure you will. Won’t make a dam’ bit of difference, of course. It’s a sign they love you, or want some exercise on land. Diana would be doing a far more useful and important job staying behind in command of the ship, but it’s hopeless: I have to leave – rather, I used to leave, until he came to you – young Lobb. Thanks for reminding me; I’ll have to pick someone else.”

At that moment Lobb came up, nodded cheerfully to Whetstone and said to Ned: “Sir, there’s a fishing canoe coming alongside. It’s from the jetty and there’s an army officer in it.”

“That fellow Rowlands,” Thomas growled. “Still smelling like Billingsgate fish market, I’ll be bound. Wonder what he wants.”

“Shall I let him on board, sir?” Lobb asked. “He was very particular that I should ask.”

Ned nodded and then smiled at Thomas. “You know, I think these soldiers are more scared of our ability to bargain than our fighting skill!”

“They’ve reason,” Thomas said with a broad grin. “You’ve won all your victories so far without firing a shot. You’re the hero of the Peleuses after that Riohacha affair.”

Together the two men walked over to the entryport in time to see Lieutenant Rowlands pause on the top step of the rope ladder and give himself a hurried last brush down to get rid of fish scales. As soon as he saw Ned and Thomas he gave them a smart salute.

“General Heffer’s compliments to you both, gentlemen. I have letters to you both from the general.”

Thomas held out his hand, took his letter and tucked it down in front of his jerkin. Ned took his and did the same, saying: “There’s no reply, I suppose?”

“Well, sir, there is. You see, the general is asking if you would both call on him – at once, gentlemen.”

“Why, has he found some of the maize unripe?”

“Oh no, sir, he is delighted with it,” Rowlands hurriedly assured Thomas. “It’s just – well, the Spanish are coming!”

“Are they now,” Ned said with a casualness he did not feel. “Well, if we go round taking their islands and their grain, they’re bound to turn snappish sometime or other, eh Thomas?”

Whetstone nodded. “Mind you, it hasn’t worried me because of course we have the army here as a garrison to defend us. A couple of thousand men, didn’t the general say? Seasoned campaigners – they all survived the Santo Domingo affair.”

“The general will explain, I am sure,” Rowlands stammered. “May I tell him you will call?”

Thomas ran his fingers through his beard and turned towards Diana, who was on the other side of the poop talking to Mrs Bullock. “M’dear, when do you want to go over to the jetty and try to buy some lobsters? Will tomorrow be all right?”

Diana guessed what was going on. “Or the next day, there’s no rush.”

Rowlands had crushed the brim of his hat in agitation. “I think the general was hoping, sirs, that you could both come over now.”

Thomas gave a sigh which seemed to start in his boots. “It’s devilish hot for traipsing round in all that sand. What do you say, Ned?”

“I suppose we need some exercise,” Ned said, “and I’d do anything to get away from this smell of fish!”

The general was a man who thrived on worry and bad news; like a drunkard reaching for rumbullion or mobby, he could not have enough of them. They made his already cadaverous face seem thinner and longer, like a sheep’s skull, an effect emphasized by his protruding teeth which dried in the heat and made his lips catch on them, so he had to lick them frequently to avoid his lips sticking like skaters run out of ice. Ned wondered if he was married and thought sympathetically of a wife having to look at that face each morning.

The general greeted them with a heartiness which required a good deal of physical effort: rearranging his face into a smile put a strain on facial muscles unused for months, if not years. Ned and Thomas were among the half dozen men in the island whom he could not bully or command. He was indebted to them for the grain; he knew he might have to ask them to go for more if storeships did not arrive from England. But he had more pressing problems than grain.

“You saw the four privateers which have arrived since you were last here,” the general said. “Splendid fellows, privateers; we owe them a great debt.”

“What have they done,” Thomas asked amiably, “and why haven’t you paid your debt to them?”

The general looked puzzled, obviously repeating to himself Thomas’ sentence. “Oh, they haven’t
done
anything for us yet; in fact, as you know, they have only just arrived. I was referring to privateers in general.”

“Yes, yes,” Thomas agreed. “There’s bound to be a bad one in any dozen you chose, but no doubt that is also true of the army. I’m sure the Lord Protector has had to dismiss more than one in every dozen generals and colonels…wives are the same. Not for the Lord Protector, of course, but less than one in a dozen are satisfactory.”

The general, lost in Thomas’ booming and cheerful voice, shook his head with what Ned felt was resignation and said: “I didn’t know; I have only one.”

Thomas looked puzzled, realized what the general was thinking and decided not to enlighten him: it would make a good story for Diana and Aurelia.

“Thank you for coming over,” the general said. “We face a grave emergency–”

“Who is ‘we’?” Thomas interrupted.

“Well, strictly speaking, I suppose the army in Jamaica. You see, some fishermen have just come in from Santiago de Cuba, or near there, with news that the Spanish are preparing a fleet to retake this island. Ten thousand soldiers were mentioned.”

“Have they sailed yet?” Thomas asked innocently.

“Er, no, not yet. At the end of next month, I understand.”

“Six weeks’ time. Well, at least you have time to build a fort or two and some batteries to protect the anchorage. Remarkable how the end of this sandspit forms the doorway to the harbour. The Dons used to hang their victims there.”

The general looked startled. “Hang who? Where?”

“The end of the point – they called it
palizada
, which means ‘palisade’ in English, or ‘stockade’. The Dons strung up Protestants captured at sea, privateersmen, prisoners of war… Never very fussy, the Dons. Still, you can use it. Call it Gallows Point.”

The general nodded. “Gallows Point. Yes, that is a good idea. A few skeletons hanging in chains from gibbets there will frighten off unwelcome visitors.”

Ned managed to repress a shudder and just avoided commenting: “And welcome ones, too.”

“This Spanish army at Santiago de Cuba,” the general said. “We have no defences against it.”

“I was just saying, General, that you will have to build a fort or two and some batteries.”