by Lisa Grace
Randall took a drink from his tankard then titled the pitcher and poured one full for Bennett.
“To the Devonshire and her men.”
“To the Devonshire and her men.”
They toasted.
“There is one matter we should discuss,” Randall said wagging his finger at Bennett.
“Yes?”
“Women. The men have not got the comfort of women,” Randall said decisively with his eyes open wide and earnest.
“What do you propose?”
Randall motioned with his hand, “We bring some in. Set up a camp for women.”
Bennett nodded. “Life cannot stop for the men. Send a skiff or two. We must allow them to have a life. Wives, or whores. It is between God and their conscience.”
Bennett took another drink from his tankard. “What of you? You have a fiancée back in England.”
“Yes, well with a bounty on my head I am sure her parents have broken off our engagement.” Randall took another swig from his tankard. “In truth I have no desire for anyone but her.”
He took another swallow of his drink. On the table by his bed was a picture of a pretty girl in a frame. Randall looked at the picture of his fiancée he had brought with him on the voyage. “My last letter to Elizabeth was six months ago when we left the port explaining our situation.”
“You are caught, and I am sorry for your...” Bennett shrugged and took a swig then spoke, “I have no words.”
Randall nodded and took a drink. There was nothing that could be done. “I would like to think she is waiting for word of me against all hope. I would like to think she is as true and loyal as your Mary...” He took another drink then stood wobbly on his feet. He reached for the nearly empty pitcher. “I am going to drink my fill tonight Bennett, and get stinkin’ drunk.”
Bennett took the pitcher from his friend, “I’ll get this. Sit down, and when I get back we will drink to Elizabeth’s health and loyalty. You will not drink alone tonight, friend.”
Randall nodded and fell back into his chair almost tilting over. He reached for his photo of Elizabeth again and stared at it, “To Elizabeth.”
Bennett left to fill the pitcher from the keg, cutting through the crowd of half-drunk sailors, some who were celebrating, and others who were silent in their misery.
***
Bennett came back to their tent and stumbled in. Mary woke from the noise. “Bennett?” She took in his unbuttoned shirt and lack of coat as he picked himself up from the floor. “Are you drunk?”
He smiled, “It appears so.”
She helped him to the bed, pulled back the covers, and helped him in. She took off his boots. The pulling took all the strength she had. She cuddled up to Bennett and hugged him as he fell asleep. She knew the day had to be harder on him than she could possibly know.
Here she was worried for him, but she felt he must worry for her, their son, and his men even more. She prayed to God to give her husband the strength he would need, and for her to have enough stamina so Bennett wouldn’t see her fear and pain, which would add an extra burden to his already heavy weight.
The next few weeks passed relatively calm as the men got back into a routine. The same four sailors went into town with supplies to sell, and came back with the extra luxuries that made life bearable. Randall checked with the postmaster to see if a letter had arrived from Elizabeth, but there was nothing.
In all the time on the island only two more ships had been seen passing, one a Portuguese, and one a possible pirate. Both sailed past on their course to somewhere else.
Little Ben learned to raise his head and smile. The carpenters made toys for him in their free time. Blocks, teething rings, pull toys, a mini ship, and horses. The blocks were the ones he liked best, grabbing and throwing them. The teething ring he would stick in his chubby little mouth and chew on it drooling like a dog.
The men started staging mock fights with swords of wood and ran races to and from the beach to keep fit and prepared. Others swam races on the far side of the ship, safe from the eyes of passing vessels, if there were any. Mary got her figure back, and was once again able to wear her dresses. The goats grew fat and had kids while the chickens were now whole flocks, with some escaping into the rain forested mountainsides. Many wild ones now gave the men opportunities to hunt.
Nineteen native women were found to come willingly to the island. Some came in search of husbands, others for a life of more leisure where they wouldn’t starve or work hard on the haciendas of the gringos.
Bennett had the courtesy to place the women’s quarters on the far side of the camp, the furthest away from Mary and their child.
He would turn a blind eye to this activity that made his men happy. If he had other choices, he would have taken them, but men without was not a natural state that could be kept forever, especially with fighting men.
Even he, the captain, had jumped at the chance to marry for selfish reasons of his own. How could he deny his men the same pleasures he could partake of every night? He wouldn’t. May God forgive him for bending to the carnal wishes of his men.
With fighting and death a possibility everyday they awoke, the hope of comfort in the evenings was a reward that kept their spirits up.
Ben grew, Mary painted. Other babies were born to some of the women. Other women arrived as some found men from among the crew to marry them. Life fell into a rhythm of calm and storm. Mary was happy. She had Bennett and Ben, a life filled with purpose and plenty of prayer. She gave thanks every day for the new day ahead, and prayed the Lord would keep strife, the navy, and pirates away.
***
1826, Six years later
The day came.
“Sir?” It was the cabin boy, Lawrence, “There is a ship rounding the coast towards the cove. No colors are flying.”
Bennett ran with the boy that had delivered the message to the lookout point. He signaled for silence to the men as he ran through the camp. All the normal noise of work came to a stop as the men held their hands up to spread the signal for quiet. Bennett looked through the spyglass. A slow flat bottomed galleon that had seen better days. He looked at the crew. Pirates.
“Run and send the warning to the Devonshire that we have pirates. Have them ready to fire as soon as the ship enters the mouth of the cove. It is a galleon. Sink it in the entrance of the cove,” He told Lawrence who ran as soon as the last words were out of his mouth.
He spoke to Lieutenant Toussant, “Send men to line the coast, capture any survivors that make it to shore once the ship is sunk. Kill those who put up a fight. Prepare a holding cell in one of the caves for the survivors.” He turned to another sailor that had followed to the point. “Get a cabin boy to Lieutenant Gregory to relay messages back and forth. Have the rest report to me immediately.”
Lieutenant Sedgwig and Kerry awaited their orders. “You will be in charge of securing the wreckage once they surrender and look for those in misery on the ship. Finish off the wounded who have no hope of survival, and secure those who don’t put up a fight. Kill those who do.”
He continued listing jobs to be done, “Bring any goods or equipment we can barter to shore. Lieutenant Kerry, you are in charge of the prisoners, and their accommodations, provisions, and transportation.”
He turned to face Sedgwig, “Lieutenant Sedgwig, you will take the carpenters and break apart the ship. Bring what you can to shore, and sink the rest. Within two days, I want no sign there was ever a ship in the mouth of the cove.”
Bennett looked at the ship again, slowly making its way against the incoming tide which flowed between the mainland and the island. What would possess the pirates to round the island against the currents? Bennett thought to himself. Only one thought came to him. They had treasure and were looking for a place to hide it. His heart sunk then hardened. They would be in for a fight. Pirates do not give up ill-gotten gains without a battle. Bennett let his breath out slowly. He spoke quietly to Randall as he handed him the glass. “I am s
ure they have loot which they are looking to hide. I can think of no other reason they would be fighting against the stronger currents on the land side.”
Randall frowned as he peered through the glass. “We are in for a fight.”
Randall spun around and aimed the glass at the Devonshire. “The guns are coming into position to blast a wall of balls along the cove. Once the first volley hits, and it will, they will be able to narrow the scope and sink it. Perhaps the treasure will sink with the ship.”
“Then it would be salvage under the rules of the seas,” Bennett answered.
“So we will sink the boat and leave the treasure there. Then the men can dive and salvage to have some spending money,” Randall added while keeping his eye to the glass.
“That is a good solution,” Bennett answered
The breeze ruffled through Bennett’s hair as he looked up at the sky. The winds had picked up. “Looks like we are in for a big blow sometime during the night. With luck, anyone who knows about this ship will think they were sunk by the storm.”
“Yes. The timing couldn’t be better,” Randall continued, “with the storm fast approaching, it could be why the pirates have settled on this cove to unload their treasure. They have run out of time before the storm hits to pick a better location.”
As the ship rounded the bend into the cove, the lieutenant in charge on the Devonshire aimed its cannons at the middle of the entrance to the cove. The Devonshire was hidden from view by the curve until the ship was in the entrance, at which time it would be too late. The men onboard were ready for the command, the powder in, the balls loaded, and the charges ready to be lit.
“Ready,” the Lieutenant said, which was repeated by the chief gunner for all the men below decks to hear, “Set, fire.”
The sounds of the fizzle of the charges being lit, followed by the popping pressure of the cannons firing, and a second later, the boom and cracking of the cannonballs hitting the sides, top, and main mast of the slow galleon, filled the air. The lead gunner on each cannon yelled out the adjustments to be made as the men on the cranks adjusted to hit their target.
The Lieutenant repeated his orders, “Ready, set, fire,” as the second barrage let loose a mere five seconds after the first. The galleon started listing as the men aboard the Devonshire could hear the shouts of the men on the galleon. The galleon hastily fired back with only three guns. The ship was so wounded from the surprise attack they’d had no chance to aim. Men could be seen jumping ship and heading for the far shore away from the Devonshire. The men knew their fellow crew men were hidden in the tree line ready to capture the pirates.
“One more volley men!” The Lieutenant said as the cannons were adjusted yet again to hit the undamaged parts of the ship.
“Ready, set, fire!”
The cannons smacked through the sides of the ship and the screams of dying or injured men could be heard. One pirate took a canvas bag and dived off the ship, but never resurfaced. Possibly holding onto his gold cost him his life. The battle was soon over as another pirate was seen from the prow waving a white cloth in surrender. Three skiffs from the Devonshire with an empty one roped to one, approached the listing ship which was rapidly filling with seawater. Men crawled onto the broken mast which was floating on top of the waves. Others held onto planking that just minutes ago made up the sides of the ship. “Sir, I don’t think there will be anything to board within the half hour. We nailed it good,” said one of the sailors to Lieutenant Gregory.
He nodded in agreement. “That will make our job easier. When the incoming storm passes, we will send men down below the waves to salvage anything of value that can be bartered.”
More pirates jumped ship and made for either the shore or the boat to be kept as prisoners.
In all twenty-five men were fished from the sea. Another eighteen made it to the shore. Six fought and lost their lives while the other twelve surrendered. Another forty or so died from the cannon fire or were trapped on the sinking ship. Fourteen more were seen jumping from the ship never to resurface.
In all Bennett estimated from his interrogation of the prisoners and the observances of his men that ninety-seven crew were aboard the pirated Spanish galleon.
Thirty-seven were left in his charge, five that were badly wounded and may not make it through the night. That would leave a prison population of thirty-two to watch, and feed. It created a dangerous situation. He wasn’t sure what to do about the prisoners. He couldn’t let them go. They knew their location, and would report it to others who would not be fooled as to be sunk at the entrance again.
It wasn’t honorable to kill them when there were resources to keep them alive on the island, unlike when they were at sea, and walking the plank was customary for the crime of piracy. Walking the plank they had a chance to survive, no matter how slim, if God willed, just like the ones who managed to escape.
For now they would keep them and feed them. They would meet their future together and perhaps their end too.
***
“What has happened?” Mary asked when Bennett finally made his way back to the tent.
“Pirates.”
“I heard the firing of the cannons. Is the ship I see sinking in the cove, pirates?”
“Yes, we’ve taken thirty-two captives. We do have a big blow heading this way. The tent is not safe. For the evening you will move into the cave Randall shares with the officers. The men will be moving the furniture out of here and into there, shortly.”
“But we have withstood the storms before.”
“This one is larger. Can you not feel it? The thickness of the air, the way the wind blows? Perhaps these are the things a captain learns on the high seas.”
“Yes, I have felt this before. Is it wrong to hope it will not be as bad as it appears?”
“I must see to the prisoners. Keep Charles close by,” Bennett said as he walked away.
“Bennett?” he turned back to face Mary.
She went into his arms, “I was so worried for you. I am glad you are safe.”
He kissed her before leaving her to see to his new charges.
***
“Find out what nationality the men are, which treasure they captured, and which ship we sunk. Give them lashes if that is what it takes to get them to speak.”
The blacksmiths had built a gate into an opening where the men would have to duck down to get in. The room was only tall enough to stand in in the very back. It was about two and a half fathoms wide, once past the opening, by four deep. A keg of water stood in front of the gate with the spigot pushed through the bars, and the men were given half coconut shells to serve as cups and bowls. Slop buckets in the back worked as chamber pots. The men were ushered through except for the strongest looking four. Those were the ones that would be lashed for information, or their heads stuck in a barrel of sea water until they would talk. Information was needed to know where the pirates came from, how they worked, and if they could expect more. Also, they needed to know what ships they had passed into port, carrying what loads, and from what countries.
If any Navy ships had been spotted in the vicinity, and most important of all, if they had any word of who the traitor was, implicating them as pirates.
“What ship did you loot?” Randall asked for the sixth time. The pirate was held by two soldiers over the water barrel, gasping for breath, then swore in Portuguese. Randall nodded and the sailors grabbed his hair and held his head under again, holding him until several big bubbles arose to the surface. They held him under until the bubbles stopped, lifted his head out where he coughed and gasped for air. The men then picked up his legs, and held them higher than his head, then slapped him on the back until he puked out even more water from his lungs. Randall motioned for the men to put him down and grab the next man who witnessed the torture of his friend. “Habla Anglais, or Espanol?”
“Anglias si, Espanol, si.” The prisoner nodded his head furiously in agreement.
“I will break you. Why put
yourself through all this misery?”
The man looked sorrowfully at his feet. “I will speak.”
Randall motioned for the prisoners to be moved out of range of hearing, including the man gasping for breath on the ground. “Lash him to confirm this one’s story,” he said loud enough for the leaving prisoners to hear.
“I want the truth. If I find out you have lied, we will cut you, tie you to a float with bait, and let the sharks rip you apart while you are alive. Do you understand? If it is our lives versus yours, we will take yours. We have no interest in treasure, which is why we let it sink. You can have your life, and salvage your treasure. All I want is the truth. Do you understand or should I repeat it in Spanish?”
The man nodded furiously “Si, I understand.”
“Get him a chair, and ale.”
The prisoner’s eyes widened with gratitude. When the drink was placed in his hands he sipped it gingerly. After his initial taste of the thick amber liquid he gulped half of it down. Randall tilted his head indicating the sailor should refill his cup.
Randall spoke while the pirate drank.
I want to know where your base is, how many pirates, what ships you have seen arriving and leaving port, and what ships you have taken. I want to know who has met or said they met the pirate Sangree Graham, Bloody Graham.”
“We are on the big island, I think they call it Cocos. Pirate town there. Good rum, women, and laws. Pirates do not steal from others on the island or it is death.” He paused to take a long drink from his mug.
“I will tell you the truth. It is worth nothing to me, why would I hide it?” The pirate sipped from his mug. “We took a small merchant ship bringing coin to pay for cocoa or coffee. Who cares?” he sipped again.
“A storm chased them off course. They came within sight of our island, so our crew lead by Gaspar, went after it.” The pirate shrugged and drank more ale. “We came to this island to dump it. Everyone is afraid of the sharks.” He raised his eyebrows.
“How many men are in the town?”
The pirate shrugged. “I never count. Enough to fill twenty ships like yours. Less now that you did us in.” He shrugged and drank again, then held out the cup again for a refill. Randall nodded, and the cup was filled.