Peregrine

  Peregrine was soon up to hailing distance with Dasher. “How are you?” Gabe called to his friend.

  “We’re fine,” Markham called back. “A few scratches but nothing a little paint won’t fix.”

  “Was you able to get a course…a direction they were headed?”

  “Aye, north and west but who knows which course they took once they were out of sight. Gabe.”

  “Yes Francis.”

  “Go get the whoresons.”

  “I will.”

  “I wish I was going with you.”

  “So do I,” Gabe replied. Then letting the speaking trumpet fall to his side Gabe thought, So do I.

  Turning to his quarterdeck Gabe said, “Mr. Gunnells, did you hear Captain Markham’s observation as to the direction the enemy has sailed?”

  “Aye sir.”

  “Good. Then lay a course to follow. After that, if you will, you and Mr. Lavery come down to my cabin with your charts.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.”

  “Mr. Lavery.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I feel a double tot can be given to the crew for their troubles.”

  “Aye sir.”

  As Dagan turned to follow Gabe below, he made eye contact with Hex and motioned for him to follow.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Gabe sat at his dining table, going over the chart before him, while Lavery and Gunnells looked over his shoulder and pointed out possible destinations of the enemy.

  “It would take a sizable inlet to shelter the three privateers and their prizes. Was anyone certain as to how many ships were taken?” Gabe asked.

  “Four that I heard the lookout call down,” Lavery said. “But they could have taken more before they broke it off. Four to six I’d say,” he concluded.

  “With our approximate positioning being just off the Georgia coast I’d say they have three possible choices,” Gunnells volunteered. Using the stem of his pipe he pointed at the charts. “Cumberland Island is a barrier island just off the coast here. Used to be called San Pedro Island. General James Oglethorpe renamed it in honour of William Augustus, the thirteen year old Duke of Cumberland. Far as I know, the island has been mostly uninhabited since the Spanish attacks on the English settlements were put down. Still, some old forts and such left standing, I imagine. It’d be a good place to hide out and maybe store their plunder. It’s not that far to the mainland so it could even be ferried over.”

  “Where else would you consider?” Gabe asked.

  “Savannah is always a possibility. The river is deep and they could sail up it a ways.”

  “They could never be sure a British frigate wasn’t there as well,” Gabe stated discounting Savannah.

  Clearing his throat the master took a deep breath and continued. “The only other place large enough to handle that many ships would be Beaufort or Port Royal. That’s on the Georgia - South Carolina border.”

  “I know where that is,” Gabe admitted. “No…I don’t think it’s there. I think Witzenfeld would have a place close by to keep down the likelihood of meeting up with a British squadron. What about these barrier islands, Mr. Gunnells? How many are there in the same proximity?”

  “A slew of ’em, Captain. But not more than six that might fit the rascal’s needs.” Pipe bowl grasped firmly in his hand, Gunnells again used the stem to point. “From Cumberland, the next would be Jekyll, Saint Simons, Wolf, Sapelo, and maybe Blackbeard’s.”

  “Blackbeard’s?” Gabe laughed. “Do you think the rogue would dare tempt the old pirate’s soul by stomping across his ground?” This brought a chuckle from the group. “No, Mr. Gunnells, looking at these depths on the chart for the various islands I think you are right. Cumberland seems like the obvious choice.”

  Turning slightly, Gabe asked, “What say you, Dagan?”

  “Cumberland or Jekyll would be my guess.”

  “Then it’s decided. Mr. Gunnells, lay us a course for Cumberland. Mr. Lavery, make sure our stern lights are lit. I don’t want to lose Pegasus in the dark.”

  “Aye Captain.”

  “Nesbitt!”

  “Sir.”

  “A glass for our guests, if you please.” Turning to Hex, Gabe asked, “Tell me man, have you a voice? Can you play an instrument?”

  “Aye, Captain, I can pluck out a tune or two with stringed instruments.”

  “And can you sing?”

  “Well, Captain, some says I can and some says I can’t.”

  Gabe cocked his head and stared at his new cox’n. “Well, tell me, who is it that says you can?”

  Hex’s face turned into a broad grin and his squinty eyes seemed to come to life and sparkle as he answered. “Them that says I can, are mostly those that are drunk.”

  Dagan burst out in laughter at the answer while Lavery and Gunnells tried to stifle their chuckles.

  “Well damme,” Gabe snorted, slapping his knees. “And them that say you can’t are mostly sober. Is that it?”

  “Aye, Captain, that’s about it.” This created another bout of laughter.

  Once the laughter subsided, Gabe asked, “What’s your favourite stringed instrument?”

  Hex thought a moment then replied, “At sea, I’d say the mandolin is my favourite with the violin a close second. Ashore, the cello is my favourite. It’s just too big and cumbersome to bring aboard ship. A slave on Antigua taught me to play a banjo and it’s good for an up-tempo piece but not for a ballad or a love song.”

  “I’ve never seen a banjo,” Gabe volunteered.

  “Nor I,” Lavery added.

  So Hex explained what a banjo looked like. “It’s the parchment paper over the metal hoop that gives it its unique tone.”

  The discussion then turned to mandolins and how they evolved from the early Spanish lute-like instrument to the popular eighteenth century version.

  “I saw one in Barbados but it was more than I could afford,” Hex stated with a sigh.

  The master and first lieutenant took the lull in conversation to make their departures. Seeing his captain yawn, Hex felt it was time to go and asked permission to go topside for a smoke.

  When all had departed Dagan called for another glass of wine for the two of them. Once served, Nesbitt was dismissed. Dagan then talked to Gabe and admitted his love and longing for Becky.

  “Do you think you’ll settle in the southern colonies after the war?” Dagan asked Gabe.

  “Depends on how we are received. If the feeling is too strong against us, we may sell Faith’s holdings and move to the West Indies. I don’t think we’ll live in England.”

  “Maria will never move,” Dagan volunteered, speaking of his sister and Gabe’s mother.

  “Aye, I’ve thought about that.”

  “We’ll discuss it more later,” Dagan said, “when it’s closer to a time for a decision.”

  Gabe nodded but didn’t answer, the thought of his mother in the forefront of his thoughts. She had hit if off well with Faith and now the miles and a damn war had separated them.

  “I love you mother,” Gabe whispered as he stared out the stern windows.

  Dagan heard the whisper but didn’t say anything. Times had changed since Gabe had last been called a bastard. He’d matured in numerous ways. One of the most important was he’d come to understand the love his mother and father had felt for one another, a love that had thumbed its nose at the social standards of the time. A love that had cost Lord James Anthony professionally and politically and had caused his mother to be looked upon as a mistress or worse. But a love that had seen the two through the toughest of times.

  Now, how would society look at Gabe and Dagan? Would they be accepted into Colonial America after the war or would they have to make their homes elsewhere? Dagan gave a sigh as he tried to push these and other thoughts from his head. He must concentrate on the enemy, on Witzenfeld. This had to be first on his mind…for the time being.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Land was sighted at first light
two days later. Jepson was rowed to Peregrine and, over lunch, Gabe and he decided that once Cumberland Island had been reached they would cruise offshore until dark and a scouting party landed to reconnoiter the area. Gabe had insisted, over Jepson’s arguments, that he be the one to go ashore with the scouting party. Jepson gave in, realizing Gabe was much like his brother when it came to stubbornness. No wonder two of the family had made admiral and, in all likelihood, Gabe would be the third.

  * * *

  Peregrine and Pegasus cruised along under easy sail, reefed topsails with courses and topgallants furled to the yards. Anyone on the island who saw them pass would expect them to be the usual British patrol making its way up from Saint Augustine toward Savannah or maybe up to Charlestown. However, once the sun was down the two ships came about, unfurled the courses and topgallants, sheeting them home. They shook the reefs from the topsails and the ships became much like living creatures. They sliced through the water, white foam trailing to starboard as each new wave was attacked, the bow dipping and rising, spray coming over the fo’c’sle. The wind was on the larboard quarter driving the ships to their destination.

  Gabe stood at the lee rail observing all. He gritted his teeth and tried to force himself to relax. It would be a couple of hours yet, he knew. All the plans had been made. The shore party had been instructed as to what duties they were to perform. Blades had been sharpened. The only firearms taken would be those by the marines. I’ll take a brace of pistols, he thought. There was nothing left to do but wait.

  The only sounds were the creak of the yards and an occasional whistling as wind rushed through the riggings. By tomorrow he might be dead, but tonight he couldn’t help but feel the edge of excitement slicing through to his very soul. Would he ever be content to live a normal life…the life of a planter? How did a man face the roar of cannons one day and be content to watch sugar cane grow the next? Would he find contentment with Faith and a family or would he need the sea like some craved opium? Hearing the slightest of steps on the deck, Gabe turned to see Dagan.

  “A night for thinking,” Dagan said. “A peaceful night…for now.”

  “Aye,” Gabe acknowledged. “For now.”

  * * *

  Two longboats grounded gently as sailors jumped over the side and pulled them up further onto the beach. A wave was receding so that Gabe stepped into only ankle deep water. However, his lower legs were soaked as the next swell came in, pushing the now empty boats further up on the dry sand.

  Looking at the captain’s soaked boots, Hex whispered, “Nesbit ain’t gonna like the shape them boots are in. He’ll have to take saddle soap to ’em sure.”

  This brought a chuckle from a couple of sailors.

  “Hush, damn you,” Gabe hissed. He wanted to chuckle himself but stifled it. Who else but Hex would have not only thought of the damage the sea and sand was doing to his boots but would voice it? His way of putting the men at ease, Gabe suddenly realized.

  Gabe turned to look at his new cox’n. His face was void of expression. My reprimand appears to have had little effect, Gabe thought. That was good. He didn’t want a pouting cox’n.

  Dark as the night was, a man had to be close to make out his features. The waves left a line of phosphorescence as they rushed in, died out, and retreated back to the darkness. Looking into the darkness Gabe could see no signs of the ships. He had ordered all lights be doused as they approached the island.

  Turning inland, he whispered, “Where’s Dagan?”

  “Here.”

  “Dagan, you have the best eyesight. You pick a couple of men and lead off. Sergeant?” Gabe called.

  “Sir.” The reply was crisp even at a whisper.

  “Leave two men with the boats then place another on that little rise. They are to keep a sharp lookout and keep their fingers off the trigger until they know who they’re shooting at.”

  “Is there a password, sir?”

  Gabe thought for a moment. How many would remember if some elaborate signal was used? “Peregrine, Sergeant, and the reply is Pegasus.”

  “Yes sir,” the marine replied as he saluted, did an about face and assigned his men their tasks.

  Moving at little more than a slow walk to prevent stumbling or falling, the party made its way across the island. It was covered with large dunes and between the dunes great stands of huge oak trees with moss hanging like a curtain from their limbs. Twice they had to make their way around ponds. Hex stooped by one, dipping his hand into the water and tasting it.

  “Fresh water,” he stated.

  The party followed a game trail, which made the going easier. Rounding a small bend the men were met with a sudden blowing sound followed by a snort and a rush of feet as something bounded into the underbrush.

  “Damme,” Gabe hissed. “What was that?”

  “It be a deer, sir,” one of the sailors replied. “We come on ’em where they was bedding down.”

  Gabe could feel his heart pounding and realized he had been so startled he’d drawn his pistol without thinking. Calming down it took a few seconds to get his breathing under control. It’s a good thing the men hadn’t been issued firearms, he thought.

  A man from Dagan’s lead group was waiting when Gabe and the rest of the men approached the top of another small hill.

  “They’re there, sir, just over the rise. Dagan is waiting just a little further on. ’E said it might be best if the men waited here for now while you two talked.”

  Gabe nodded but didn’t speak. As he started off he noticed Hex right behind him moving very quietly.

  “Regular little city they got there,” Dagan said by way of greeting.

  Gabe couldn’t believe his eyes. Damme but Dagan is right. Lanterns were hanging from poles at set intervals and a fire was ablaze here and there. Several tents had been set up and the laughter of men and women could be heard. Several ships could be seen in the distance lined up bow to stern. Off to one side, a large hulk seemed to have been turned into a trading place. Men were going up and down a make-do gang plank.

  “Brothel,” Hex volunteered. “An old guineaman turned into a pleasure palace of sorts. I bet you can buy whatever your heart desires from yonder hulk: women, gambling, you name it.”

  “I wonder how much his financier sees,” Dagan said. “There’s enough loot down there to set a man up for life.”

  “That’s why it’s here,” Hex answered. “He probably sends one out of three prizes to Norfolk with a trusted accomplice. The rest he brings here. Pays the men for the prizes, then fills them with wine, provides them with women, then sells the plunder back to them.”

  Gabe and Dagan stared at Hex as he finished. “You seem to know a lot,” Gabe stated.

  “Aye Captain, you forget I was a smuggler’s son. I can tell you, while the man could live forever off that treasure trove down there, it gets in your blood. It’s not just about the money, not that it don’t help, but it’s as much about the chase and maybe a little vengeance thrown in.”

  Hex was a man with insight, Gabe decided. “Let’s scout out the approaches then back to the ship,” he said. “Dagan, you take the left and Hex will come with me to the right. We’ll meet back atop the rise in an hour. If we get caught…well, don’t talk.”

  * * *

  An offshore wind made the row back to the ship easier that the row ashore. Jepson, along with his first lieutenant and master, met in Gabe’s cabin on board Peregrine. Gunnells, Lieutenant Lavery, and Lieutenant Davy were already enjoying a glass when Jepson and his officers arrived. Gabe took Gunnells’ charts and pointed out the locations of the ships on the chart.

  “HMS Drake is anchored there and the Tidewater Witch here,” Gabe said, pointing them out on the chart. “I didn’t make out the third privateer. My cox’n thinks she may have sailed with a couple of prizes to Norfolk.”

  “What about shore batteries?” Jepson asked.

  “None on this side of the channel. It’s anybody’s guess as to the mainland,” Dagan state
d. “There may be a few cannons on the guineaman, but I think the only guns we’ll face will be those aboard the ships.”

  “Now, my plan is this,” Gabe said.

  “Did you see anyone living on the island?” Gunnells interrupted.

  “Only on the beach. We passed an old settlement but it was deserted and going to ruin.”

  “That would be Berrimacke,” Gunnells volunteered. “Dungeness built a fort and settlement back around 1742 when we were fighting the Dagos. It was said a lot of the Spaniards were eaten by sharks. It was told the sharks would swim right up into the shallows, grab a man alive or dead and head back to the deep.”

  “Jesus,” Jepson whispered. “I hope most of them were dead.”

  “Aye,” Gabe replied. Turning back to the chart, he stated, “Where the rogues have set up camp appears to be the widest section of the Cumberland Sound. It narrows here at Plum Orchard where there’s a big bend. It widens and the Cumberland River empties into the ocean. Now my plan is this. Pegasus because of her shallow draft will enter at the northern entrance and make her way down to a point where you can block any ship trying to escape through that channel.”

  Gabe was about to recommend that Jepson have a good leadsman taking soundings but realized, before he spoke, that Jepson wouldn’t need anybody pointing out the obvious. “The shore party will be made up mostly from Pegasus’s crew but I’ll have Marine Lieutenant York detail a squad of marines with Sergeant Sharp. He knows the lay of the land having made the reconnaissance earlier.”

  “What officer will you put in charge of the shore party?” Lavery asked.

  “Since most of the men will come from Pegasus I was thinking of her first lieutenant. However, if Captain Jepson would rather keep him aboard, I’ll send Lieutenant Davy.”

  “Parks can lead the shore party,” Jepson stated. He needs the experience, Jepson mused.

  “Good,” Gabe muttered then added, “Dagan, have one of the men from your group assigned to Lieutenant Parks as a guide.”

  Nodding his acknowledgment, Dagan said, “I’ll send Bond. He was a poacher in his day. He’ll not likely let a herd of deer spook him.”