by Dudley Pope
“We’ve a lot to learn,” Ned said soberly. “It was our fault for not signalling to you somehow.”
“Well, you did eventually – ‘Early One Morning’ – sounded beautiful, though I must admit I had not heard it on a trumpet before!”
“And appropriate, too,” Whetstone said. “About half an hour early, I should say. But the sun will be up by the time we get some hot drinks! Steward!” he bellowed. “Cook! Light that galley fire again since we shan’t be going into action after all, and let’s have a good breakfast. Will Saxby come over?” he asked Ned. “I’ll send a boat for him.”
He stumped off, giving orders right and left, and Diana linked arms with Aurelia. “You’ve had an exciting time!”
“No, it was all very quiet – at least, until Thomas made that big bang.”
Diana was puzzled and just as Thomas returned she asked: “Why did you buy that other ship as well as the maize?”
“Oh no, we buccaneered that ship,” Aurelia said matter-of-factly. “Can one ‘buccaneer’ a ship? Well, we stole it. First we bought 5,544 quintals of maize and loaded it on board the Griffin. There were another 350 tons in the Carmen, which was lying at the jetty. We were going to buy it but then we decided to take the Carmen as well as her cargo to make up the 600 tons and to save you, Thomas, the bother of transferring the maize to the Peleus.” She winked at Diana. “And we know what a slow ship the Peleus is, Thomas; we thought that if we loaded her with maize we’d never get to Jamaica!”
“You are learning m’dear,” Thomas said, “but remember criticize a man’s wife, criticize his manners, but never criticize his ship!”
With that he walked aft with Ned to hear the details, and the two men returned ten minutes later, by which time the smoke from the galley chimney indicated that breakfast would not be long, and announced that they would be starting for Jamaica at noon. They had agreed to leave Saxby in command of the prize, with Simpson as his mate. Whetstone’s second mate would join the Griffin for the voyage to act as the navigator, teaching Ned the rudiments of navigation at the same time.
“Six hundred tons of maize and a prize ship! Ned m’boy, you’ll be rich!” Thomas exclaimed.
“And so will you!”
“How so? I’ve just sat here at anchor, peacefully whipping rope’s ends!”
“We go halves. We’d agreed on that.”
“But that was assuming I’d do something towards it.”
Aurelia said: “Just knowing you were here – that helped. And it was pure luck that we could sail off with the Carmen. If you’d been there you’d have taken the mayor, the bishop and the treasurer too and made them pay ransom!”
“You flatter me, but thank you: the Whetstone treasury is looking rather empty at the moment. It is a pleasant thought, though, that the Lord Protector’s exchequer will soon be helping to fill it, through the governor of Jamaica.”
Chapter Seventeen
Again light winds made it a slow passage to Jamaica and the three ships rounded the sandspit at Caguas six days after leaving the bay west of Riohacha. The great anchorage was empty but for four small privateers and a dozen fishing canoes, but the three ships had not been anchored for more than half an hour before a canoe brought out a fastidious young army lieutenant whose well-cut uniform was liberally encrusted with fish scales from his passage in the canoe. He came on board, walked uninvited down to the cabin, sat down in the chair and proceeded to brush the fish scales from his uniform. Ned walked over to him, lifted him out of the chair by the collar and ordered him back into the canoe.
“You can come on board this ship when you smell less like a fishmonger!”
“But I am an ADC to the governor! I have orders for you!”
“Will you go down the ladder or shall I have a couple of my men toss you over the side?”
When the lieutenant came back up the ladder ten minutes later, no fish scales were visible but his clothes still stank of rotting fish. The moment he set foot on deck Ned said quietly:
“Introduce yourself.”
“But I say, I’ve had enough of –”
Ned pointed down to the canoe. “No one comes on board the ship I own and command and gives me orders, least of all army officers recruited in Billingsgate.”
“Rowlands,” he said sulkily. “Edward Rowlands, lieutenant, 48th Foot. General Heffer, the military Governor, has given orders that you –”
Ned raised his hand. “I am not interested in verbal orders from anyone.”
“I have written orders here,” Rowlands admitted. “I was –”
“You impudent rascal. Give me the packet and get down into your canoe!”
“But I need a reply.”
“Send someone else for it; you smell too much and lack the manners to be allowed on board this ship again.”
Protesting but nevertheless obeying, the lieutenant backed out the entryport as Ned broke the seal on the governor’s orders. They were brief: the Griffin and the Peleus, which appeared to be laden, were to unload their cargo of maize at the Cagway jetty at once. Ned noticed the anglicized name of the port and went up on deck to wave across at Thomas Whetstone, indicating that he should come on board. The Peleus’ boat was already in the water, hoisted out as the canoe came in sight being paddled from the shore.
Thomas heard of Ned’s insisting that the lieutenant brush off the fish scales in the canoe and bellowed with laughter. “Good for you – I’d have tossed him over the side. You’re too soft-hearted!”
Ned handed him the general’s orders and at once Thomas’ manner changed. His face went grim, and he shook his head slowly. “I don’t like this man,” he growled. “For a start any sailor could tell him that the Peleus is in ballast; second, why isn’t he inquiring about the third ship, which is obviously fully laden; and third, this reads more like an order to arrest a corporal for drunkenness. Starving Commonwealth generals don’t order me about. We sell them goods for an agreed price, and that’s as far as it goes.”
Relieved that Thomas’ attitude was the same as his own, Ned said: “The general probably wrote these orders days ago, ready for our return: that would explain why they refer to only two ships. Why don’t you and I pay him – what’s his name, Heffer – a visit? In the meantime the three ships stay at anchor.”
Thomas nodded: “Treat him as though he is a Spaniard!”
They found General Heffer in his headquarters at the large, airy house at Cagway, so built by the Spanish that from its balconies there was a fine view southwards over the sea and northwards across the anchorage to the mountain ridge.
Ned immediately recognized Heffer as a Cassius: anyone with any sense, let along Caesar, would demand that the men about him should be sleek “and such as sleep o’ nights”. Heffer had the “lean and hungry look” of a man who thought and plotted too much. Tall, thin, gaunt of face and with eyes that were sunken and seemed to burn with a feverish zeal, he looked as though he would have been more at home as a Jesuit, ordering a few more turns on the rack.
He was sitting at a table writing when Ned and Thomas were announced and he continued for another three or four minutes before looking up to ask in a harsh voice: “Which of you is–?”
Ned nodded, for a moment startled before realizing this was only Heffer’s way of distinguishing them.
“I want the maize unloaded at once.”
“We shall want paying at once, too,” Thomas said amiably.
“I am requisitioning your cargoes in the name of the Commonwealth.”
“Are you indeed,” Thomas drawled. “Well, that hardly concerns me because my ship is in ballast – in army terms that means she has no cargo on board – but I can’t see my friend agreeing.”
“What do you mean you have no cargo?”
“My ship is empty. The Griffin is carrying 250 tons of maize and h
er prize, the Nuestra Señora del Carmen, has 350 tons. So there are 600 tons of maize out there belonging to my friend.”
Whetstone’s voice was friendly; his face had the benevolent smile of a bearded friar. It should not, Ned thought, have fooled anyone, least of all a general.
Heffer looked up at Ned. “Your cargo is requisitioned.”
Ned nodded as though agreeing. “The price is what was agreed before we sailed, of course.”
“Price? Who is talking of price? I’ve just told you, your cargoes are requisitioned.”
Ned nodded as though agreeing. “We understood your problem; the garrison of Jamaica is starving. Still, you – or, rather, your deputy, Major Slinger – did agree that if we could provide you with grain you would pay a certain price.”
“We are at war,” Heffer said. “The Spaniards might attack any moment.”
“How true, how true,” Ned said dreamily. “When we went into Riohacha and took the grain, I remember commenting that we are at war with Spain, and they might attack us any moment.”
“Quite so,” Heffer snapped. “Now, I want that grain unloaded at once.”
“We can start unloading as soon as you have paid,” Ned said, still in a dreamy voice. “Six hundred tons. Your tallymen will of course check, but we checked it too.”
“I don’t want to have to say this again,” Heffer said angrily, “but that grain is requisitioned. I shall send troops out to take control of the ships. You are under orders from me to bring the grain ships in to the jetty, one each side. Now.”
“Oh dear me,” Ned said sadly, like a disappointed curate. “Troops in boats, eh?”
Heffer stood up and went to the door. “Rowlands! Send two platoons to each of those ships and two ensigns to take command.”
With that he slammed the door and sat down at the table, picking up his pen and continuing to write.
“General,” Ned said softly, “may I interrupt for a moment?”
Heffer looked up, obviously irritated and expecting Ned and Thomas to leave the room. “Well, what is it?”
“Just a slight difficulty. Before I came on shore to see you, I left orders for the mate of the Griffin (that is my own ship) and the acting master of my prize…”
“What the devil has that to do with me?”
“The orders were to prevent anyone from boarding and if soldiers came out in dugouts the ship’s companies should sink them. If necessary they will also flood the holds of the two ships.”
Heffer suddenly stood up, sending his chair flying. “You would never dare do that! You are bluffing! Why, you’d lose your ships. They’d just sink!”
This time it was Thomas’ turn to shake his head. He had been silent for longer than he was accustomed. “General, we are rough sailors and know nothing about soldiering. Why, we couldn’t tell a cavalry caracole from a pint of small beer. Still, we can be forgiven our ignorance because you know nothing about ships.”
“Well, I don’t see what this has to do with grain, but most certainly I know nothing about ships, which seem to me always to reek of bilgewater and swarm with rats.”
“Indeed, how right you are. But do you appreciate that the cargo holds can be flooded without losing the ships? My friend arranged matters so that enough water would be allowed in to ruin the grain, but then the sodden grain could be thrown over the side.”
Heffer looked wide-eyed at each man and then fixed his stare on Ned. “But why should you have given such orders? You had no reason to distrust me. After all, I am the representative here of the Lord Protector and Council of State.”
Ned, scarcely able to believe his ears, shrugged his shoulders. “In business, one always has some security, or deposit. My friend and I thought we ought to have some sort of security because although you through Slinger struck a bargain with us before we sailed, who knows, some senior officer might have overruled you…”
“Senior officer overruled me? I am the senior officer,” Heffer said crossly. “And I never break my word. You failed to make any arrangements for collecting the money. Now, what do you suggest?”
Ned said casually: “Well, if you really do want the grain, we will conduct it according to our normal rules of business.”
“What are those?” Heffer said suspiciously.
“Full payment for the 250 tons is taken on board the Peleus and handed over to my friend here. Then I will bring the Griffin alongside and you can unload her.”
“What about the Spanish ship?”
“Ah, we must be patient. As soon as the Griffin is unloaded, you deliver the full price for the Spanish ship’s 350 tons of grain on board the Peleus, and then we bring the Carmen alongside and unload her.”
“But what is to stop you bolting with her the moment you get the money on board the Peleus?”
“Nothing,” Ned said bluntly. “But remember this: we sailed from here to the Main to get you the grain: we kept our word. You have no reason to distrust us. But the moment we arrived back with the grain, you decided to requisition it and not pay us. You did not keep your word. We have no reason to trust you.”
Heffer banged the table. “I never gave my word!”
Ned stared at him. “Didn’t you? I thought you did.”
Heffer shook his head triumphantly. “If you recall the conversation exactly, Major Slinger never gave his word.”
“In that case,” Ned said, “we shall need the full price in gold, as agreed, to be delivered on board the Peleus before the Griffin or the Carmen come alongside and one bag is unloaded.”
“This is ridiculous – why, I’ll sink your ships!”
“That would be quite impossible for you, but anyway it would lose the maize.” He turned to Whetstone. “You were right, Thomas, I can see why they never captured Santo Domingo. We’ll find a better market in Havana.” He gave Heffer an ironic bow. “Good day to you.”
For a few moments Heffer looked desperate, finally running to the door and standing with his back to it. “I must have that grain! My men are starving.”
Whetstone’s voice cut across the room like a whiplash. “General Heffer, you are a thief but an incompetent one. You have the money to buy the grain, but you intended to persuade us to get it and then you’d requisition it. However, you’d report to the Council of State that you had to buy it at the current market price and you’d put the money in your pocket.”
“How dare you – why, I shall –”
Whetstone waved aside the man’s stammerings. “Heffer,” he snapped, deliberately omitting his rank, “my friend and I deal with the Spanish. They are very cunning, very shrewd and very dishonest. But my friend and I survive; indeed, we flourish. We rate people like you as less troublesome than a cutpurse. You have the imagination of a pander. Now, yes or no; do you want the grain at the agreed price?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then send the full price out to the Peleus. Use a canoe with slaves rowing. Your fishy Mr Rowlands will be the only soldier and he will wait in the canoe until we have counted it.”
“But –”
“Those are our terms. No grain until we have the money. By the way, you had better stop your soldiers going out in those boats: all that grain might be ruined!”
With an agonized screech Heffer ran out of the door, bellowing for Rowlands.
Ned and Thomas walked out of the building and along to their boat. “You know,” Thomas said, “neither of us is a bully by nature…”
“No,” Ned agreed, “but men like that bring out the worst in me.”
“Not the worst; there’s no rule that makes you carry your valuables where they can be taken by a pickpocket.”
It took two days to unload the Griffin and five to hoist all the sacks of grain out of the Carmen. Much to General Heffer’s annoyance, Ned insisted that no more than twe
nty-five soldiers be on the jetty at any one time, and had seamen armed with muskets and pistols to enforce the order.
By now Ned felt competent to command the Griffin providing he had a navigator, so that Saxby could remain in command of the Carmen. There was no Admiralty court in Jamaica and General Heffer had never mentioned her, so Ned and Thomas Whetstone had decided that the prize should have her name discreetly changed and Ned’s forger should draw up a certificate of registry naming the four people each owning sixteen of the sixty-four shares in which ownership of a British vessel was vested. The owners would be Ned, Aurelia, Thomas and Diana. Giving her a new name had presented no difficulty: she had, in effect, risen from the ashes so she was called Phoenix.
The grain money from the general had been divided, with both Ned and Thomas agreeing that Saxby deserved a share, and from that had emerged a new plan: from now on the three ships would act together as proper buccaneers, with everyone serving on a shares basis.
Thomas and Ned had worked for several hours on the plan. They had a complete list of the names and ratings of everyone on board the three ships, including the women. So far as was possible they rated the men in the way the Royal Navy did, with completely unskilled men put down as landmen, competent men as ordinary seamen, and very good men as able seamen. They did not appoint any petty officers except for three bosuns. Thomas kept his own in the Peleus and Ned had the Griffin’s regular one, but Thomas’ finest seaman was made bosun of the Phoenix.
Finally, armed with the lists and their proposals, the two men had everyone in the three ships meet on board the Griffin, where Thomas addressed them.
With three ships, he told them, they could carry out some good buccaneering expeditions, and for that reason he and Mr Yorke were proposing that everyone went on to the accepted “no purchase, no pay” arrangement, with the regular division of the purchase.
Mrs Judd, who had never heard the word used before in this context, demanded to know what “purchase” was.
“It is the polite word for whatever we capture,” Thomas said. “You could call it ‘loot’, but that is such a vulgar word.”