“That may be so Colonel but you must not be tempted to walk on it too soon. I put two small stitches in to close up the wound and they must come out in a few days” said McBride.
There was no deterioration in the weather and after only a few hours they were safely anchored in English Harbour where they saw another sloop with her main topmast missing. The soldiers were ferried ashore with the prisoners duly secured in army cells and an empty stone storehouse. The officers waited until last, each wanting to shake Merriman's hand and thank him, all except the unpleasant Lieutenant Orson who stood with his back to them. Night had fallen by then but the crew worked on by lantern light, cleaning up the rubbish left behind by horses and men, dismantling the stalls and scrubbing the decks. Merriman sent a message to the Admiral by his third Lieutenant, that he would, with the Admiral's permission, report to him in the early morning with a full report on the events of the day.
Chapter 16 - Traitors arrive in Jamaica
Jamaica was the biggest slave market in the Caribbean except for those in Louisiana and had been a British possession since 1655. A beautiful island with high mountains in the eastern and northerly parts, covered with dense forest. Sugar and coffee plantations covered much of the more level ground, highly dependent on slave labour, black slaves from Africa brought across in the infamous triangle trade. Eventually and inevitably the slaves soon outnumbered the white owners and overseers who enforced discipline by the use of the whip and other brutal means. Many did escape and they were called Maroons. They fled into the mountains where they founded their own villages. The British army tried to suppress them but to no avail, the thick forest and mountains hid them far too well.
Kingston was the principal town since Port Royal had been destroyed by an earthquake and further north on one morning two men found themselves on a deserted wharf well away from any town. The captain of a slave ship had dropped them ashore with a few curses about their being a useless waste of space, thrown them a few coins and their bags and left them. The larger of the two men picked up the precious coins and in the growing light they both sat down to see what of their belongings had been left to them and to discuss what they had to do.
Some rumpled clothing and shoes were all they had apart from the few copper and silver coins the captain had thrown to them. The smaller man spoke first. “Well the clothes are wearable but badly creased and the money might be enough to get us a room somewhere and our clothes made more presentable. Then a good meal inside us will make us feel better.” That decided upon they began a long weary trudge to find somewhere to suit their needs.
“My God,” said the bigger of the two, “I can still feel that bloody captain’s lash on my back it is still so sore, but we’re better off now than we were on that stinking ship of death don‘t you think.” The smaller man agreed, “Yes we are at that but we still have to earn a living somehow although anything would be better than throwing the dead, stinking bodies of those slaves overboard and washing down the bilges afterward.” Weeks and weeks ago they had escaped the law in England where they were wanted for murder and treason to the Crown and after bartering with a ship's captain in Liverpool they thought that they had managed to arrange passage to the Americas, Boston or New York on a ship loading trade goods. But the captain was a rogue who robbed them and forced them to work on the ship which turned out to be a slaver, doing all the dirtiest and most menial jobs aboard.
As they trudged along the bigger man began to feel more hopeful. “You know, Beadle, it occurs to me that we can both read, write and do arithmetic. Perhaps we could find work as clerks or something in some trading establishment. What do you think?”
“It’s possible I suppose, but we shall have to make ourselves much more respectable before that, shaving and a bath spring to mind and disposing of these filthy rags we are wearing.” Eventually they found a river, dragged off the rags and immersed themselves in clean water “God above, this is good” said the small man vigorously scratching his long greasy hair and scalp and ducking under repeatedly. He grabbed a big clump of grass and began using it as a sponge to clean his body. The bigger man said nothing, being too occupied in doing the same. At last they emerged and the hot sun soon dried them and they began to dress in the better clothing.
“You’ve lost a lot of weight in the last months haven’t you,” said the small man with a grin, “that coat looks as if it was made for a much bigger man.” “All right, all right you don’t look any better,” was the retort. Now feeling better they continued plodding on until they came to a road, more of a cart track really and sat down hoping they might get a lift on a passing cart.
Eventually one came along, an ancient rickety wagon pulled by two half-starved mules and driven by an aged Negro. They stopped it by the simple expedient of holding the mules’ bridles. “Where are you going old man, we need a ride,” shouted the bigger man.
To the next village Sir,” said the man obsequiously, “I’m taking these barrels to the inn only a mile away from here,” The two men grinned at each other and climbed onto the cart. Arriving at the inn, a shabby run down sort of a place, they entered to find it was better than its outward appearances suggested. There was only one man behind a crude bar who looked at them suspiciously. “What do you want here? I don’t serve scruffy strangers especially those who appear to have no money.” The bigger of the two men hastily introduced them, telling the man the story that they had previously agreed upon.
“We were on a small coastal vessel going to Kingston. It was attacked by a privateer, ransacked and sent on its way. We asked the captain to put us ashore before it happened again, which he did but the boat was capsized by a wave. I don’t know what happened to the man rowing the boat, we never saw him again. We managed to get ashore but our baggage was lost and we seem to have walked miles before we were picked up by that man and his cart. We do have some money, perhaps enough to pay for a bath and a good meal. If someone could try and clean our clothes perhaps we could stay the night and go tomorrow,”
“Your story sounds reasonable but who are you and what is your business in Jamaica?” asked the man. “Well Sir, I am a lawyer and my name is Jeremiah Robinson and we were hoping to set up a new office in Kingston. This is Beadle, my clerk. We are not asking for charity Sir but any help you can give us would be appreciated.”
“Well show me the colour of your money first and I’ll see what I can do.” He seemed satisfied and said “You both look as though you need a bath and I can give you a good meal and you can sleep in the barn. My woman will do something with your clothes. Tomorrow will be market day in Kingston and a lot of carts will be going that way so you may get a ride.”
The following morning they woke early and brushing straw off themselves and putting on the clothing the innkeeper’s wife had cleaned they began to feel more optimistic. A sparse breakfast and their thanks to the host and they were on their way in another rickety wagon loaded with bales of straw. Before they left the innkeeper told them to go to see one Isaac Meyberg in Ship Road in Kingston who may help them.
Eventually, by means of the old jolting cart they reached Kingston and after making enquiries they found themselves outside the premises of Isaac Meyberg. It was a small place cramped between larger buildings, most of them chandlers shops and stores and it was the dirtiest and most unprepossessing of them all. The windows were so filthy that Beadle wondered if anyone could see out of them and the paintwork was peeling off window frames and the only door. That they were in the right place was confirmed by a dirty and damaged sign over the door proclaiming to passersby that it was indeed the office of one Isaac Meyberg - Lawyer, Actuary and Moneylender - and in smaller almost indecipherable letters it announced that he was a Scribe, charging by the hour.
“As we are here we might as well go in although I'm not hopeful that it will do us any good,” said Robinson miserably. Opening the front door showed a gloomy and filthy passage with two doors on the right hand side and at the end was another door with a ligh
t showing round it. They crept forward and Beadle apprehensively knocked on it whereupon it was flung open by a very large man. 'Fat' would hardly describe him; he was grossly overweight with a huge protuberant belly and several double chins and fingers like sausages.
“Who are you, what do you want?” he snarled looking them up and down. “We-we- we were told to come here to see Mr. Meyberg” stammered an intimidated Robinson. “Oh an' 'oo told ye that?” shouted the man. “I don't know his name but he runs the old inn out to the west of town. We are looking for work and he suggested we came here. If I'm wrong we can go and not bother you.”
“Wait there” said the fat man who closed the door but reopened it only moments later, ushered them into a surprisingly clean and well lit office with a huge desk in the middle. A grey haired, wrinkle faced old man with a long beard sat behind the desk. Flinty grey eyes studied them for several minutes before the man spoke. “Who are you and what do you think you can do for me you scruffy pair of rogues.” Robinson launched into their agreed story but the man gestured for him to be quiet. “I know all that,“ he said, “My friend at the inn sent a message to me last night. You say you are a lawyer and a clerk, but I repeat, what do you think you can do for me?”
“It is true, I am a lawyer and Mr. Beadle is my clerk. We left England in the hope of starting a new business here, but with no more money than we gave to the innkeeper there seems to be little hope of that, so we are looking for work, book keeping or something like it.”
“We have seen many men like you, I wager that you have escaped the law back in England. Tell me or it might go badly for you.” He nodded to the large man who held each of them by the arm with a surprisingly strong grip. Robinson looked at Beadle who shrugged and nodded his head. “You are right Sir, we are wanted for theft, my wife's jewels which I bought for the ungrateful bitch. She has powerful family and friends so we had to run. The captain of a trading ship promised to take us to America, but he stole the jewels and dumped us ashore here. But I am a lawyer Sir.”
The flinty eyes looked at each of them again for several minutes while he made up his mind. “I think that story may be true, you are felons and will be hanged if you are caught so you are desperate to start a new life here, am I not right.” Both men nodded miserably, both worried that they might have fallen from the frying pan into the fire again. “I will give you work on a casual basis until you have proved yourselves capable of keeping secrets. You, Robinson, if that’s really your name, if you really know the law I can use you. My partner was a lawyer but he died over a year ago and that side of my business has almost disappeared. You will find his office upstairs with all you will need and another room up there with two rough beds where you can sleep. It's all dusty and dirty so the two of you can start right away cleaning it up.”
You, Beadle, will carry messages and documents for me to various places on the island, offices, plantations and private houses and the like. You are very lucky one of my two messengers fell off his horse and broke his neck last week. If you prove competent and useful you will be well paid. You will start work tomorrow at dawn. My man Thomas will show you where you are to go. Remember, I could turn you both in to the authorities, no doubt there is a small reward.”
Thomas led them back into the passage, thrust rags, a broom and a bucket and a pathetic string mop with half the strings missing into their hands and opened one of the two doors in the passage which led to a stairway and another passage leading out to a yard at the back. Upstairs, Thomas showed them their rooms and told them that they would find a pump in the yard then left them to work. Intriguingly the doors of two other rooms were padlocked but they had no time for speculation as they immediately explored the two rooms. The room with two rough beds was small but adequate with straw mattresses and some grubby blankets. The office had a good sized desk, chairs, a long shelf full of law books and a large cupboard stuffed with papers and ledgers. Everything was covered in dust and spider webs.
Beadle went down for water while Robinson started on the books with a dusting rag, surprised to find them almost new and a very good selection invaluable to a lawyer. Beadle returned with the water and they set to with a will, brushing, mopping and dusting both rooms. Thomas re-appeared, took a good look round, grunted approval and gave them some polish. “Mr. Meyberg says you should polish everything before you go, he will come up and see you.” Meyberg was grudgingly satisfied, gave them some money and recommended that they should get the bedding to a woman he knew to be washed. They left the place, looking for a meal, relieved that they had found some kind of work but they both knew that they were now involved in something illegal.
Chapter 17 - Prisoners reveal the French land Plot
Dawn was breaking with its usual rapidity when Merriman, Mr. Graham and Doctor McBride arrived at the Admiral's offices the next day. They found Admiral Howarth in a jovial mood, plainly delighted by the results of the activities of yesterday, although he frowned when he asked why Merriman had not brought his report last night. “I apologise Sir, I did not finish writing my report until 10 o'clock and then my servant had to copy it so I thought it not wise to disturb you at nearly midnight.”
“Quite right Lieutenant, quite right, your Lieutenant gave me your request but in future I want your report on my desk as soon as possible. I'll read the details later but tell me briefly what happened. But first, I know Mr. Grahame but who is the other gentleman with you?”
My apologies Sir, this is Doctor McBride from--------” He was interrupted by the Admiral saying “Ah, so this is the worthy doctor the Army is praising so much. You are welcome Doctor, now then Mr. Merriman, your report.”
“Yes Sir, we looked into as many bays and inlets as could but apart from a few small fishing boats we saw no privateers or pirates. We had no contact with the shore until we sailed into the bay next to Guiana Island when the ship was fired on from the shore. As the ship rounded a small headland I saw two small ships anchored ahead of me with men boarding but as the water was shallowing rapidly I had to anchor and send a boarding party off to take them. Unfortunately, from where I was forced to anchor the ship nearest to me shielded the first ship from my guns and although I fired some shots and hit it, it managed to get away before my boarders could get to it. I couldn't follow Sir because the water was too shallow. The two of them were cutters not drawing as much water as Aphrodite. If there had been another of our ships on the other side of Guiana Island we might have caught both of them Sir,” he said greatly daring as if implying that the Admiral had been at fault.
“I know Lieutenant, I know, I promised another of ours would go up the eastern side, but the sloop I was expecting didn't come in until this afternoon with the damage you will have seen. She found a privateer attacking a trading vessel, engaged it and sank it but lost her topmast and some men.”
“I'm sorry about that Sir. We and the army captured some twenty-nine men and of course the one privateer which I hope the Navy will buy in.”
A bit of prize money for you Sir?” The Admiral looked at him with a smile on his face, “Indeed Lieutenant you and your rogues will all get their share.” Merriman continued, “Colonel Shawcross was wounded but my doctor soon bandaged him up. Mr. Grahame was with me and now he is desperate to know what may be learned from the prisoners.”
“I imagine you are Sir, I imagine that you are. Well, Captain Blythe was here not ten minutes past giving me a verbal report. Colonel Shawcross is being a good patient and is resting with his leg up as you ordered Doctor, but how long he will keep to his enforced inactivity I don't know. You had better go and see him.”
“If you have finished with me Sir, I would like to go with the good doctor and Mr. Grahame, to see the Colonel and to see what is being done with the prisoners and what we may learn from them,” said Merriman.
“Very well then, off you go Gentlemen.”
At the army barracks they were ushered into the colonel's office to find him behind his desk, busily writing and with his leg up
on a chair. Two other officers were with him and the one he had met, Major Heath-Jones. After the introductions and all were seated, Merriman began, “Colonel, the Doctor wishes to examine your wound Sir and Mr. Grahame and I wish to know what information can be found out from the prisoners. Anything about French activities in the islands.”
“First of all Captain, I want to thank the good Doctor for his ministrations. There is little pain now Doctor, but I will rest my leg for another day or two as you instructed. And now to the matter of the prisoners, Major Heath-Jones can tell you everything.” Well Captain,” responded the Major, “We have already sorted them out into three groups, the seven slaves are just that, escaped from the plantations and they will go into the slave pens until claimed or sold. Of the twenty- two whites eleven are French and the rest, eleven of them, are English, deserters from your navy Sir.”
“If they are deserters Sir, they must hang, unless they have a good reason, like the man Plover and his companion captured the other day, to be with Frenchmen and privateers. However it will be up to the Navy to deal with them.”
“I agree Captain, and the seven Frenchmen are being questioned as we speak. Our Sergeant Wrigley is a big man, well used to using his fists to keep order and is very persuasive, so I don't think we shall have to wait long.”
Indeed it was not long before a white faced Lieutenant presented himself in the Colonel's office, followed by the big sergeant rubbing his knuckles, who stood to attention in a corner. “We have, that is, Sergeant Wrigley has, made some of them talk Sir. We questioned them separately Sir and from what we can gather they have a leader who managed to escape leaving the other ship in our hands. They call that man 'Le Seigneur.' They think he is French but he can speak and behave like an Englishman and lives somewhere in Jamaica. He sends men to the islands to stir up the slaves with talk of revolution, freedom and equality so that they will revolt and kill their owners. Have I missed anything Sergeant?” “No Sir, I don't think so, only that they think the man is a trader with many ships Sir” replied Wrigley, screwing up his face in concentration.
The Threat in the West Indies (The Merriman Chronicles Book 4) Page 8