by Smith, Skye
Daniel joined him, yelling "Smoke! Straight ahead,” even though there was no smoke, not yet. What there was, was a bloody long arrow arching into the sky, and then another, and another, and another. There was still no smoke, so the arrows kept flying.
Eventually Robert couldn't stand the suspense anymore so he lifted his head just above the stern rail and poked the looker over to have a look-see. "Oh Anso, you've given them something to think about. There is one, no two arrows stuck in the head sail, so you had the range and the aim right. I don't see any heads moving around the bowchaser, so they must have ducked." He shivered because the air was suddenly chilling, and then white mist fogged up the looker's lenses. They had made it to the fog.
Anso was sucking wind after loosing ten arrows in a minute, but Daniel was standing at the tiller again. As soon as he could no longer see the outline of the galliot through the mist, he turned the ship a quarter to starboard and into the brown plume of filthy river water that was creating this fog. "Dig, dig, dig. Double time lads,” he yelled at the oarsmen. "They will know that we would turn towards the river so they will try to cut us off in the fog. Now begins the real race."
There was an echoing of oars splashing, but that could not be helped with the men rowing so quickly. Daniel turned her another quarter so now she was racing along in the fog at right angles to their original course. There was a thumping noise against the hull and then another.
"What was that?" Robert asked in an urgent voice, expecting it to be some new kind of Dunkirker weapon.
"There,” Anso pointed. "We just went through a tide line. The big thump would have been that cow. The other would have been that man."
"Cow, man?" Robert repeated to himself unbelievingly but that was exactly what he saw. One dead cow bloated enough to be bursting was in their wake, and there were the bloated bodies of two, not one, man. There were also logs and bits of wooden crates, and branches, and anything else that would float down the river.
"Everyone quiet down,” Daniel yelled. "The galliot will be in the fog by now and listening for us. In fact, everyone shut up and stop rowing and let me listen."
The newborn silence rang in their ears but they could hear something from out in the fog. The repeated rhythm of oarsmen. Everyone cupped their hands to their ears and turned their heads slowly, hoping to sense the direction the sounds were coming from. "We've won,” Daniel hissed into the silence. "Their intercept course was too shallow, so they have missed us. Start rowing again, but quietly. It won't be long before they also stop to have a listen."
The crew did a very good job of rowing silently. The first thing they did was cram their neckerchiefs under their oars in the locks to stop them from thumping. Their pace was measured and every dip into the water, and pull was careful and steady. Despite this they were not creeping along, but moving about three-quarters the normal speed. On the steering castle everyone kept their hands cupped to their ears and scanned the fog with them, back and forth.
And out of the white came a splash and a thump of an oar and a call of, "Kijken waar je gaat je idioten!" which Oliver, who did not speak Dutch, quietly observed was still easy to interpret.
Daniel called softly in Dutch to the four men rowing a small herring skiff that they had almost hit. "Shush. There is a Dunkirker three hundred yards behind us." Then to the crew he said softly, "Drag your oars,” and the ship slowed quickly.
Anso had read his mind and was throwing a line to the skiff. In a loud whisper he told them in Dutch, "Tie the line off and we will tow you in." They did not argue. Dunkirkers were the bane of their existence. While Daniel got his crew to row again, Anso hauled the skiff closer and closer to the stern, and then ever so quietly lowered a rope ladder down so the four fishermen could scramble aboard. In truth, Anso reached over the railing and hauled them one at a time up the last three feet and set each of them onto the deck.
What happened next was a classic case of seafolk mutual aid. The Freisburn took them quickly away from where the Dunkirker was patrolling in the fog, searching for the small ship, while the fishermen piloted their saviours through the fog and towards the main channel of the River Scheldt.
This they did by simply watching the changing hue of the brown river water plume and the angles of the tide lines. An hour later they arrived at their tiny fishing village of Sint Anna ter Muiden, which the locals claimed was the westernmost village in the republic. The good news was that the naval town of Sluys was only a mile up river.
* * * * *
Being the westernmost port and town in the republic, Sluys had an imposing fortress protecting a small muddy port. Small it may have been, but it was always busy. As the westernmost naval port, it was critical to the delivery of reports, messages, and orders to and from naval ships. Even were they not staying, or going up or down river, or up or down the coast, if navy ships were close by, they would stop in to see if there were messages for them.
It was a shock to Daniel that while he was reporting the sighting of a Dunkirker galliot not two miles out in the fog, one of the port clerks handed him a waterproof document pipe with the Freisburn’s name on it. All the clerk said was, "Are you the master of the Freisburn out of Lynn in England?" in perfect English and once confirmed, he handed over the pipe.
Inside was a letter inviting him to visit Admiral Tromp in Rotterdam and dated not two weeks ago. He showed it to the clerk, and the clerk's comment was that he would need to show that letter in order to enter the Admiralty compound beside the naval dockyards. The invitation put a big smile on Daniel's face, because the Admiral owed him for a cargo of Genever which he and his officers had consumed at the Downs in Kent during the weeks of standoff between the Portuguese, Spanish, Dunkirker, English, and Dutch fleets.
He had no doubt that he would be paid top shilling for the Genever, not just because it had been the finest Dutch Genever that he had been taking to sell in Cambridge, and not just because the prize money the Admiral would have earned from capturing most of the major ships of the Armada would have been a king's ransom. The Admiral also owed him a favour for being the man who had lit the fuse on the faux-Hellburner, which had caused the Armada to break from their battle formation and make a run for it.
His eager grin disappeared from his face completely when he returned to the Freisburn to find a Dutch naval officer and four heavily-armed guards aboard waiting for him. Waiting to personally escort him to Admiral Tromp. Perhaps, instead of the invitation being so that the Admiral could repay him for the Genever, it was to ask him about any loot the Freisburn had taken from the Spanish ship that had run itself aground at the Downs trying to escape being sunk by the Dutch broadsides.
The officer introduced himself as a guide and escort to the Admiral, but if that were true why the four armed guards? Daniel dithered, wondering if it would be better to risk meeting up with the Dunkirker again in the fog. No. That would be silly. Playing silly games with the Dutch Navy was a sure way for a ship to be forbidden to trade with the republic, and where else would he buy his two most profitable cargoes on the cheap ... booze and guns.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Pistoleer - Slavers by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 2 - Visiting Maarten Tromp in Rotterdam in June 1640
The Freisburn reached the port of Rotterdam and the huge naval dockyards well after dark. Well after it was too late to send word to the Admiral of their arrival. The officer arranged for everyone aboard to be trooped into an empty navy barracks which was large enough to have beds for all, and then some. They didn't even need to leave a watch on the ship because they were tied up at a heavily-guarded navy quay.
The officer sent out to the mess to have food brought in, which everyone except Oliver enjoyed. Oliver did not eat much of it, not because he had been seasick for the entire voyage from the Thames to the river fog, but because it was spicy hot in the way of Dutch navy food. The navy fed their men hot peppers as a way of stopping scurvy and keeping their seamen healthy.
&nb
sp; In the morning, word arrived from the Admiral's aide that the Admiral would meet with them in three days. Until then they were the guests of the Navy and in the meantime they were encouraged to enjoy the city of Rotterdam. What else could they do but go and enjoy?
While Daniel and Robert looked up their old friend and erstwhile partner, Jock Douglas the one-legged Scottish gunsmith, Oliver, Anso and the crew went off in groups of four to explore Rotown. Eventually Oliver found himself on his own, for he was fully happy and intrigued just endlessly wandering about the worldly city, interested in everything and in how things worked, and watching the Dutch go about their day-to-day living.
Every night in their lodgings Oliver would remark on how well-off everyone, even the poorest of workers, was compared to England. Every night he would remind Daniel that every woman he spoke to was literate. He was convinced that the prosperity of Holland was because literacy was so widespread and therefore the people made intelligent decisions, including the decision to become and stay a republic.
Daniel and Robert argued that this was too simplistic of a view, but only the first time around. Once Oliver had convinced himself of something, he could endlessly argue the merits. Robert halted further arguments by telling Oliver, "But so far you have seen only the folk of a rich city. You have not seen the countryside or the farm villages where the farm workers live."
There was a lot for Oliver to see in Rotterdam, for it was the grand transshipment port of the fens of Holland. However, he still found time to wander to the edges of the city and inspect how the Dutch drainage engineers had used dams to protect the fens from the sea, and thus had created the great shipping canal that made Rotown such an important port.
They had to drag Oliver away from studying a windmill that was lifting water between canals to take him to visit the Dutch Admiral. Admiral Maarten Tromp was on the Aemelia, the flagship of the confederate fleet, and they were welcomed aboard to meet with him. This was the first time that either Robert or Oliver had been aboard a ship of war, never mind the most modern of all ships of war, and they were dumbfounded in their eagerness to look at everything.
"So, Daniel,” Tromp said after he had welcomed each of his three guests into his cramped cabin with a warrior's grip of their elbows. He spoke in English, for he had been told that Oliver did not speak Dutch. "Daniel, first I must pay off the Navy's debt to you."
"For the cargo of Genever?"
The Admiral looked at him as if he had forgotten about the cargo, "For your share in the prize money from the capture of the Armada. Payment will be in new shares in the East India Company. I have them set aside for you in my chest."
"Please, do not be insulted,” Daniel replied, "but shares in a Dutch company are of little use to me other than to be sold immediately. This year my village lost one of our ships, and with all hands, so I need the coin to buy a new ship, one small enough to trade the coast, fast enough to escape coastal pirates, yet big enough to make the crossing to the New World."
"I well understand the tragedy of losing a ship and a crew, but it would be foolish to sell your shares now;" Tromp said in astonishment. "They are sure to double and triple in value within the year. Even as I speak, I am waiting for the good word from our East India fleet. If they have taken control of the Malay Malukka Straights away from the Portuguese, then all of our shares will leap in price."
"Meanwhile, my village needs to eat. We need a new ship, a better ship than the Freisburn."
"H'mm." Maarten went quiet for a few moments while he shuffled through a file of papers on his desk. Finally he found what he was looking for, and then looked up with a smile and said, "Do you remember Commander Gerrit Veen, the commander of the fireships in the action at the Downs? One of his prizes from the Downs was a Spanish ship that may serve your needs."
Tromp read more from the paper and then told them, "She must have been built as a pirate ship in the Mediterranean, for she is a galliot, a half-galley of sixteen oars, and with two masts that are lateen rigged. H'mm, seventy foot at the waterline and twenty foot of beam. The draft is not noted other than it is shallow. A dozen cannon, but I doubt you will be allowed those. It has a pine hull. That is a good hull, for it will stay solid forever so long as the natural tar in the pine is not allowed to dry out. Eighty men surrendered her, but for trading you could sail her with say, a dozen.
With her lateen rigging she will be able to sail close to the wind, and with that beam you could double up on men on each oar so she would be a fast row in a pinch. It sounds like just what you are looking for. Would you like to step aboard her and get the feeling of her decks?"
"I don't have the coin for such a purchase." Daniel looked forlorn. The ship Tromp had just described was far and beyond anything he had dared dreamed of.
"Well, the Admiralty doesn't want her, and we certainly don't want to put her out to auction else she will end up in the hands of the Dunkirker pirates and cause us no end of trouble. We need her in friendly hands and so we will adjust the price accordingly. Come, we must speak to Gerrit, for it is his prize and he will have a say in all of this. Is your ship alongside? His gun boat, the yacht Drente, is at anchor not far away."
"My ship is at your disposal, Admiral."
"Good - umm, there is something else." This time Tromp was reading something from a tiny black book he had pulled from his pocket. "Gerrit tells me that you once delivered a cargo of muskets to a battlefield in Scotland. To a Swedish general, no less. Is that true?"
"To Alex Leslie. Yes sir, though Alex is a Scot, not a Swede, he was commissioned as a field marshal by the Swedish regent."
"And you are on good terms with this Leslie?"
"The best, sir." Daniel pulled his ornate double-barreled dragon out of his belt and laid it gently on the cherrywood desk. "It was he who gave me this pistol as a token of his thanks. It was made for his mentor, King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden."
Tromp picked the heavy pistol up and admired the well-designed workings that allowed a normal pistol barrel to be placed above a dragon barrel so that both of their flint dogs were on the right side. "Then you know Leslie's artillery master?"
"Alex Hamilton. Why, yes, I do. We are friends."
"Good, very good. Then come. Let us go and visit with Gerrit on the Drente." Tromp turned the remarkable gun in his hands so he could hand it back to its owner, handle first.
* * * * *
Gerrit was overjoyed by the visit of not only his famous admiral, but of the man who had lit the fuse on the Hellburner for him after the original gunner charged with the duty had been killed by a Spanish sniper. When he was told of Tromp's plan of giving Daniel a ship instead of shares in The Company, he broke out in gales of laughter, as did some of the crew who had been turned out in deference to the admiral. Tromp joined in the hilarity until it died away and only then did he explain to the English what was so funny.
"The Spanish ship's name is San Daniel. It is your destiny to command her. Of course, I must demand that she be renamed and registered in an English port immediately. Our admiralty will demand it. And you, Gerrit? Will you and your crew accept Daniel's shares in the Company in place of your part of the prize money?"
It was the easiest decision the crew had ever made. The Company shares could be worth twice their prize money within the year. Gerrit said so but then added, "But what of the Admiralty's part of the prize money?"
"That will be waived on the condition that Daniel reports to an Admiralty office each time that he comes to The Netherlands, and occasionally carries a cargo for the Navy. We need friendly eyes on English ships visiting English ports if we are to keep abreast of the how the English navy feels about their king. Ja, I have no doubt that the Admiralty will waive their prize." He turned to Daniel. "Come, let us visit your new ship. What will you call her? You should choose something that is close to the current name so that the change of name on the stern carving is not obvious."
It wasn't until the Freisburn was approaching the anchored San Daniel
that Robert suggested 'Swift Daniel' as the new name. It met with instant acclaim, for the lines of the small sleek ship spoke of her speed and it was a fine name for a fast ship. Daniel and his crew clamboured aboard as soon as the Freisburn was tied off, and they scurried like ants over the entire ship and then reported back to the commanders.
"Perfect,” Daniel announced with sheer joy on his face, after listening to his crew's glowing reports. His village had just become wealthy indeed. "How can we ever thank you, Admiral?"
"What?" Maarten laughed. "You want to thank us for a reward that we give to you in thanks for your heroic service for us at the Downs? You English are far too polite for your own good. Accept it graciously, man, for it was well earned. Setting off that hellburner at the perfect time gave us the Spanish and Portuguese fleets, and our republic will be reaping the benefits from that one explosion for a hundred years. If you had been a Dutch citizen the Admiralty would have given you the command of a frigate. This is little enough for us to give you."
"So let them give Gerrit the frigate,” Daniel replied, "for if I had not leaped aboard the hellburner, he would have."
"That is already under advisement,” Tromp said with a sly wink to Gerrit. "Is there anything else I can do for you while you are in Rotterdam?"
"Yes,” Daniel replied. "Have someone give Robert and Oliver a full tour of the Dutch fleet, and a few of their more advanced ships. They have spoken of nothing else since we arrived, and I am at a loss to answer most of their questions."
* * * * *
Tromp arranged for an immediate refitting of the Swift in the naval dockyard just outside of Rotterdam. His main interest was the removal of the dozen Spanish cannons, while Daniel's main interest was to have the small warship converted back into a cargo ship. This included the removal of the gun-decks that were covering the cargo hatches, and the sealing of the cannon hatches.
The shipwright assigned to manage the task was a very canny fellow who knew his ships. Having been told that she was to be used in the coastal trade, he had the oak false keel removed. It had been dovetailed to the ship's original shallow keel by some prior owner who had increased the size of the lateen sails. A deeper keel allowed the ship to sail a truer course closer to the wind, but it would have caused the ship to keel over if ever she was ever grounded by a low tide, as was common in the coastal trade.