A Journal of The Experiment at Jamaica (The Neville Burton 'Worlds Apart' Series Book 2)

by Georges Carrack

  One of the marines, firing from his perch in the main top, shot down one of the acting officers on Calypso’s quarterdeck. Calypso’s pirates did not have enough men to make a proper stand.

  “They’re not giving up, Captain,” said Ratshaw.

  “So I see. They know they’ll get the rope. Cannister in the swivel guns will end it. See to it, please.”

  There were only three men left standing by the time the two ships were firmly grappled, and those were so disinterested in dying in the moment that they hid under the ship’s boats.

  The four ships fell off for Jamaica before dinner was served, Soufflé and Saracen having caught up to Experiment when she was grappled alongside Calypso. Éclair had run off as fast as her sails could push her; she was only a speck of white in the distance when the four stood for home. Any help Éclair might summon from Petit Goâve would not catch them before Jamaica.

  “Sail Ho!” shouted Mr. Worth from the foretop. “One sail, fine on the bow. She looks French.”

  “Have we not had enough excitement, Captain?” queried Lt. Ratshaw.

  “It is not ours to question, Lieutenant,” responded Neville.

  “Keep us posted, Mr. Worth.”

  “Captain,” shouted Worth fifteen minutes later. Neville detected a strange tone to the man’s voice. How could it sound like a man is smiling? he wondered.

  “She is French, Sir. We know her as the Comtesse du Provence!”

  Captain Burton looked over at Lt. Ratshaw and smiled. “Prepare to let sheets fly and speak her, Lieutenant.”

  Returning the grin, Ratshaw answered, “My pleasure, Sir.”

  “Haloo, Captain Verley,” Neville hollered through his trumpet. “Where are you bound?”

  “Haloo, Captain Burton. Welcome home. Routine patrol. Have you seen anything interesting?”

  “We took Saracen there back from pirates off the cul-de-sac. They sailed a small ship named Éclair for Petit Goâve not long ago. Will you escort us home?”

  “I might have, but since you report pirates ahead, I shall crack on. I believe you can take care of yourselves. I’ll see you in a few days. Give my regards to Maria and Mary. Bon Voyage.”

  Hands aboard both ships waved to their former mates, but it was brief, for the Comtesse wasted no time setting every sail that would serve.

  The familiar shores of Jamaica opened to Port Royal Harbor, Experiment saluted Fort Charles, and the little fleet dropped their anchors to the sight of Wasp, Racehorse and Rambler. Swan was there as well, he noted. Port Royals’ harbor guard, having seen Calypso and Soufflé, and not knowing Saracen, was already rowing out from Fort Charles to collect the prisoners they expected to find.

  22 - “Home in Jamaica”

  Once again, Neville planned to combine his dual first priorities of seeing his fiancée and reporting to the governor by stopping at the Fuller plantation on the way to the Governor’s residence.

  He hadn’t seen Maria in over three months for the second time in a year, and was somewhat surprised that Maria had not already appeared in her carriage on the strand. Experiment’s arrival had been foretold by the other ships of the convoy, of course, but an exact time could not be given.

  His first impression at Fuller’s was that something was wrong. The place seemed too quiet as his horse clip-clopped into the outer courtyard. He could feel his heart begin to speed up and his warrior’s sense of impending doom kicked in full speed. A quick glance all ‘round the courtyard told him nothing. There was nothing out of place, no sign of foul play. There was also nobody to see.

  The moment Neville drew his sword and jumped to the ground, a door flew open and Juanita ran out, straight for him, with a huge smile on her face and her arms wide open. She was talking faster than his Spanish could follow, and was trailed by the entire kitchen staff. It was all he could do to put the sword away before she captured him with a big hug. The rest of the staff more respectfully welcomed him ‘home’ – in English - and Juanita slowed her speech to inform him that Maria had gone the day before to Spanish Town on one of her teaching excursions.

  That explains it. She doesn’t even know Experiment is in the harbor yet. It’s early. I can surprise her there.

  “Where’s Mr. Fuller?” he asked (in Spanish).

  “In Spanish Town also. There is a Council meeting today. But you cannot go without lunch. Sit. Sit.”

  To his dismay, the governor’s aide did not simply accept his request for an audience and send him on his way. Apparently, the governor was so interested in being able to report the complete success of the convoy, that he had left standing instructions with his aide to inform him of ship arrivals at the earliest possible moment. The aide understood that the instruction superseded the council meeting.

  The aide escorted Neville to the Council chambers and rapped timidly on the door. Neville could tell that the act itself caused a disturbance within, as some orator waxing eloquent fell silent. The door was soon opened by a red-coated army sergeant who did not recognize Neville and asked his business.

  With the door open, he fell in full view of the attendees. The room went deathly silent.

  He got no further than, “I am told…”

  “Come in, Captain,” ordered the governor. The sentry was brushed aside and Neville was escorted by Thomas to the podium to give an extemporaneous report. “Step up here and tell us your news.”

  Neville paused a minute, having no prepared words of any sort. “All in safe!” he said.

  The room exploded with applause, and they called for some additional detail. Temporarily, Neville was a local celebrity.

  As public speaking was not his strong suit, Neville’s report lasted all of ten minutes, during which he covered everything relating to the passage home that he guessed Wasp had not previously covered. Applause was raised at the reports of the capture of Soufflé and at Comtesse’s enthusiasm to engage the enemy after the meeting at sea. After much backslapping over his success, Neville was cheerily ejected from the Council chamber so that the meeting could continue.

  While his greeting had been much more than he could ever have hoped, he still felt ‘set aside’. No matter. This is wonderful! I am free to find Maria!

  That sounded easy, but proved to be harder than he hoped. It was not until he reached the third school on her normal ‘rounds’ that he heard her voice before ever reaching the door. His decision simply to wait for her outside was rewarded with the sound of her voice instructing, laughing, and encouraging her little students.

  The classroom soon erupted with the noise of twelve happy little people released to go home, and they began to stream out the door, skipping and running. When the students had romped down the lane and he heard nothing more from within, he stepped inside to see Maria stooping to pick up a fallen chalk. He could tell that she had sensed the presence of a visitor by the way she raised her head before standing straight up. By the time she could make out who it was in the glare from the doorway, he had almost reached her. The chalk and board clattered to the floor, and they threw themselves at each other, enjoying a long kiss and embrace in a space devoid of father or chaperone.

  “Oh, Neville, I have such joy to see you,” she said. “I have so much to tell you, and have even found a girl for Vincent, I’m sure of it!”

  “That’s how you greet me? You tell me you’ve found a girl for Vincent? No matter. I am the happiest person in Jamaica to see you, and I also have marvelous news.”

  Trombé appeared at the door moments later in accord with his normal instructions to convey Maria home after classes. “Will you get my bag for me, please, Neville? It’s behind that desk there,” she announced loudly, and then whispered to him as he went past, “No more kisses for you today, I’m afraid.”

  A typically heavy October rain drove the Fullers inside for dinner. There they passed an enjoyable evening catching up on the stories of the convoys to and fro, the latest events in Jamaica, and Maria’s efforts on behalf of Vincent Verley. Neville presented
the gifts he had brought from the northern colonies, and the talk turned to Elliott Burton and his family in Norfolk.

  “I have seen the name before, said Thomas, but never did I make a connection between a young navy captain just arrived from England and an established shipping company in the northern colonies. How could you possibly not know of it, and what does this news mean to you now?”

  “I would never have thought to look for my father,” Neville began, “I had long believed him dead. The name was mentioned before we left. Then I met his Captain Caward when we arrived at Norfolk and he directed me to the business.

  Neville presented the entire story, admitting that his initial concerns of scandal were washed away by a combination of his father’s innocence and the loss of his mother. Not wishing to propose an actual lie, he didn’t mention how his mother was ‘lost’ and, probably out of politeness, his host didn’t ask. Nor did he mention his sister, for that would probably have brought up another cause to create lies.

  Neville did his best to describe his father’s new family and of the settlement of Norfolk, ending with his agreement that a visit there would be a wonderful trip for some time in the future.

  Neville changed the subject after dinner itself, when Thomas had settled back into a large comfortable chair in the library, “I want you to know, Colonel Fuller, that I have no thought at this time of leaving Jamaica to join Father in business and, to be honest, he didn’t suggest it. Things could change in the future,” as I know only too well, he thought, “but for now I am committed to Jamaica.”

  There is also something I wish to show you. It is a sword I found on the Soufflé when we searched her for contraband. I believe it highly unlikely that it was legally owned by the ship’s captain who, by the way, went missing when we captured the ship. I put it in here today when I arrived,” he said, getting up and crossing the room to fish it out of a cabinet.

  “This is it, see. I suspect it’s not French, but Spanish. The property of some nobleman – ceremonial, perhaps, because it is not very long. It is in their style, with a large cup guard integrated with a long crossbar and an ornate gilt knuckle guard. And see here?” he continued, turning it to get a better light on the pommel, “An exquisite jeweled pommel of gold and silver. I am no expert at all, but would you guess these to be emeralds on the four sides; and this a great ruby at the end?”

  Thomas took the sword and looked at it carefully for a minute or two, and then looked up at Neville. “I believe it is my good fortune to have given my daughter permission to marry a lucky man – one who is good at discovering things of value,” he said. “This trinket is probably as you say. While I am no expert either, I would estimate its worth at probably more than an ‘undred guineas. But,” he cautioned, “you might consider never selling it. Some believe rubies protect the body from plague, poison, and fevers; that they will secure love and friendship and guard against disorders of the liver. I can’t speak for you, but I doubt you need the money and you sailors are reputed to be a superstitious lot,” he concluded with a very somber look.

  Neville looked into Thomas’ face after the last comment with some concern that he held some belief in the fable. He noticed a twitch of the mouth and a twinkle in the eyes, and the two broke out in laughter.

  “I’ll ship it to Hoare’s for safe-keeping, then,” said Neville.

  Neville could not spend all his time shore, of course. Duty required some degree of supervision over the maintenance of Experiment. Happy for a break in the rain, he rode off on one of Maria’s teaching days for the harbor, stopping on the way at Fort Charles for orders. He noticed Comtesse du Provence at anchor on his way down Thames Street.

  “Good morning, Captain Burton,” said the command center greeting-sergeant. Your orders have arrived.”

  “Good morning, Sergeant. I see the Comtesse du Provence out in the harbor. Has she been in long?”

  “No Sir, just two days now. I was surprised to see her orders arrive with yours. I don’t think Captain Verley has even been ashore yet.”

  “Hand me both, then. I’ll take them out.”

  “Thank you, Sir. Good day.”

  He had been around Port Royal long enough now that he knew a reliable stable. While arranging to leave his horse, he sent an errand-boy out to find a shore boat; it was waiting opposite Kings House when he arrived at the strand.

  After a hurried but proper receiving ceremony, Neville arrived on the Comtesse’s deck to find Vincent waiting for him and the decks awash with loose women and drunkards.

  “Sorry about all this, Neville,” said Vincent. “I do not know how to keep this element away.”

  “Think nothing of it, Vincent.” He glanced about the deck, taking in the sordid scene. “I imagine Experiment looks much the same at the moment,” he added sourly.

  “Vincent, it is really good to see you. Other than speaking as you chased off to Hispaniola, it has been what? Four months?”

  “It has, verily. You look well. Thanks for the advice t’other day. We’ve caught a prize – see there? The pretty ketch. We sunk another in the cul-de-sac. Come below and I’ll tell you it all.”

  Vincent’s cabin below was comfortable, with the cooler air of ‘winter’ in Jamaica wafting gently through the open hatches.

  “Twenty pirates aboard and a strongbox of gold and silver plate,” said Vincent as his coxswain poured each of them a short rum – despite the early hour. This was a celebration. Vincent was finally coming into some money and he was about to tell his good friend about his possible good fortune with a lady.

  “Have you met Mary Nedham? No? I am surprised that Maria didn’t take you straight off to see her. Maria introduced us, and I think she is a beautiful girl, maybe as much a catch as Maria is. I don’t know how you managed to sit aboard ship as much as you did in the past with such treasure ashore. I know your dedication now. We four must make it a point to get together. Mary’s a bit further away, though. Her father, Colonel George Nedham, is also on Council. I sure that’s how the ladies met. He’s the first plantation t’other side of Spanish Town.”

  A two hour discussion of their exploits over the past few months followed: stories of pirates and storms, lady friends and family at home and in Norfolk. The pipes calling the hands to dinner pulled them back to the present, and they turned their attention to their orders.

  Each opened his own. Neville said, “I couldn’t have hoped for better than this. I’m to join you in patrolling ‘round the island on some regular basis that we are to determine.”

  “Mine say the same.”

  As soon as provisioning and repairs allowed, they began patrols. Neither wanted to lag in harbor and provide any reason why they should be given a different assignment. They sailed together, supposing that gave them a better chance of defeating pirates and capturing prizes, as well as defending themselves if the French navy were involved.

  “We’ve had almost no action at all, Colonel Fuller,” Neville commented one day in early December. “We spend more time stopping Jamaican privateers to check their legitimacy now than anything.”

  “That’s to be expected. The council is issuing more Letters of Marque in hope of keeping the pirates away. It’s not working as well as we could wish for, though - the scum are so numerous and our northern shoreline so very long.”

  Short periods in port and frequent sailings kept the men well exercised and allowed everyone relatively frequent shore leave. Ashore, love grew. Neville and Maria visited with Vincent and Mary as often as they could manage. The more central Fuller plantation was most often their chosen venue; a season of dinners, card-playing, singing, prose and poetry readings, Sunday church and keeping up with English news filled their days.

  “Do we have your permission for another card night here on Tuesday?”

  “You know you do, Neville,” Thomas answered. “It is a great joy to me to have a house full of youngsters enjoying themselves. May I invite Mr. Nedham?”

  “Ha, ha. Yes, certainly. It’s
your house, is it not?”

  “We won’t interrupt you beyond dinner and one piano recital by Maria of her new piece by that Bach fellow. There is council business we can discuss without the ears of everyone – and have a brandy at the same time.”

  “Did you get one of these?” Neville asked Vincent two weeks later. Neville was standing in the chains of Comtesse with rain dripping off his tarpaulin hat. He showed the corner of an envelope from the governor.

  Captain Verley waved the welcoming party away. Their visits were too frequent for much ceremony. “He’s not coming up, anyway,” Vincent said to Dinman. “I’m going in with him. Governor’s called us in to Spanish Town.”

  “You have then,” said Neville, overhearing that remark.

  “Aye. I’m ready to go. You just beat me out by a few minutes. What a nice day for it.”

  In their tarpaulin hats and jackets, the two made a sorry sight as they made their way along the road from Port Royal to Spanish Town. A wind blew the rain slant-wise across their path, providing an unusually uncomfortable ride.

  “I would’ve suggested a stop at Fuller’s to pick up Maria if not for this weather. I hope the governor doesn’t decide we’re disrespectful.”

  The smells were earthy – of cattle, wet leaves, and spotty patches of mud, and the horses’ hooves produced a most melancholy plopping sound on the rural lanes. By the time the two reached their destination, they had both begun to fear a worrisome change in fortune.

  Since they had been summoned and an appointment time given, they expected to be readily admitted, but that proved not to be the case. They waited moodily for over half an hour while their uniforms dried in front of the small sputtering fire at the end of the great entrance hall. When the governor’s aide finally ushered them in, the reasons for the summons and the wait in the outer hall became apparent. Lord Inchiquin sat huddled at his desk with a heavy blanket over his shoulders.