By the Knife Read online

  Before they were ready, however, the lookout saw a sail on the horizon. With great haste they renewed the camouflage and wiped all marks from the sand.

  John took his men, fully armed, into the woods and hid them. He then joined the lookout on the hill.

  Slowly the ship approached; she came from the north and would not see into the bay until she was past the reef channel. Ben slid down into the grass beside him.

  ‘Spanish?’ he asked.

  ‘English,’ John replied. ‘Sloop of war.’

  The sloop closed with the land and then whilst still some distance up the coast turned into the island and was lost from sight.

  ‘She’s gone into the bay where the farmer settled,’ said Ben.

  ‘Get the men back to work but keep the ship hidden. I’ll take ten men and see what’s happening,’ John ordered.

  They ran through the woods towards the north end of the island. Gradually the trees became less dense and the land flattened out. John was surprised how close they had been to the settlement: not more than five or six miles.

  Slowing to a walk, they eventually stopped atop a slight rise and could look down on the houses below. There were four of them surrounded by smaller huts, and fields surrounded all. One of the ex-slaves muttered, ‘Sugar,’ and pointed to the crop.

  To the left the sloop lay anchored in the centre of an open bay, a longboat was hauled up on the beach and three seamen sat in the sand beside it. This is no search, John thought. This is a visit. As they watched, a young lieutenant came out of a house with a heavyset man and woman; other people were standing around. They were deep in conversation, the officer pointing to his ship.

  John was too far away to hear what was said but all seemed friendly; he thought this was not the first time they had met. Everybody moved into the shade of some stubby trees and sat down. The woman brought something to eat and drink. Carter watched the happy gathering for almost two hours until all stood and the lieutenant took his leave. As he passed on his way to the beach, John noted that he was a fine-looking man. Carter’s hand slid under his coat onto the handle of the knife. He licked his lips as the old rage tightened in his stomach.

  These people have supplies put by, of that I’m sure, he thought. Turning to one of his black crew he asked, ‘How many people did you count?’

  ‘Nine,’ the man said.

  John looked at him. ‘How can nine people tend these fields?’

  The man pointed. ‘You see those huts, they are for slaves.’

  ‘Can you talk to these slaves?’

  The man shrugged his shoulders. ‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘If they come from my land.’

  The sloop had picked up her anchor and was making sail; they watched as she cleared the headland and set off to the northwest.

  ‘Go back to the ship,’ John ordered one of his crew. ‘Bring half the men here, but tell the others to keep working. I want the ship ready.’

  By the time the extra men arrived it was approaching evening. They waited until it was dark and then walked down the slope.

  ‘Spread out,’ John whispered. ‘Some of you get round the back.’ He walked up to the door of the nearest house and lifted the latch; it was unlocked and they walked in. The three occupants froze in surprise.

  ‘Who are you?’ the man demanded. His wife ran to his side. Behind them a little girl watched from where she sat at a table.

  John smiled. ‘Just more friends come to visit,’ he said.

  It took two more days to get the brig in seagoing order; they then sailed her to the northern bay and anchored off the settlement. On the beach they had piled barrels of salt beef, sides of smoked goat and a mass of other foods they had found in the storerooms of each house. The eleven slaves John had found locked in one of the huts were eager to show them where everything was

  As always the men had their way with the women, but John would have no one killed, nor did they do any damage. They even cleaned up before they left.

  ‘Take the people on board with us,’ he said. ‘We will lose them at sea. If that sloop returns I want this to be a mystery to her captain; we can use this place again.’

  When they sailed it was to the north once more. Now flying an English flag John had taken from a pole outside the biggest house, the brig was named the Harvester.

  Once the island had dropped below the horizon they threw their captives into the sea. John judged that the bodies would drift clear of the islands and never be found.

  A mystery puzzled the men: three of their number had vanished two nights before they had left and search as they would, no sign could be found of them. John spoke of natives who were known to travel up and down the islands and warned all to stick together and not wander off.

  The first night at sea he chuckled to himself thinking of the men who had spent all one night helping him move the gold and then died at his hand. If ever the men dug for the gold they would find their friends.

  ‘Take one more ship, return, lift the gold and then head for home.’ That was Ben’s idea. ‘We can live like kings in England and none any the wiser,’ he said. ‘Or if not England some other place where the Spanish can’t find us.’

  They had sighted another Spanish warship and spent a day and night hiding in the reefs and islands. In fact, the ship had not seen them, but all thought it only a matter of time before their luck ran out.

  ‘Or buy the supplies for the voyage home,’ Ben continued. ‘We have gold to spare.’

  ‘Back to Jamaica. After that we will decide,’ were John’s last words.

  The voyage through the northern islands was uneventful until the day before they arrived when a large merchant ship was sighted heading east.

  ‘Fully loaded,’ Carter said. ‘This one is mine.’

  ‘She’s English,’ Ben warned.

  ‘We take her,’ John snarled. ‘Set more sail.’

  The ship proved to be fast for her type and the stern chase went on for hours. When at last they got alongside, it was after a heated exchange of cannon fire and then the crews fought hand to hand with neither giving quarter.

  When at last the pirates captured the ship they had lost eleven of their number.

  The men’s fears were realized when one of the English seamen, under a hot knife, told them that the story of their raid was known to all. The Spanish had found the ketch dismasted and sinking, and had tortured the truth out of her crew before hanging them. Spanish warships were searching all through the islands looking for them and the new governor of Jamaica had ordered the English navy to find them, saying he would not let the region slip back into piracy.

  ‘That’s because he has not the ships to fight the Spanish,’ John said. ‘He will soon be at war with Spain anyway.’

  Ben lost his temper. ‘You have just taken an English ship,’ he screamed at John. ‘The whole world will chase us now.’

  Carter leaped to his feet with the knife in his hand. He drove it deep into Ben’s stomach and drew it upwards until it struck the breast bone. As Ben fell to the deck, John shouted at his crew.

  ‘Anybody else?’ The men scattered across the merchantman’s deck, leaving John standing over Ben’s body.

  CHAPTER 6

  The third rate was different to a frigate in many ways; apart from being larger with sixty-four guns and a crew of over three hundred men, she felt different: solid, impersonal and slow. When he had arrived on board David was met by a captain of marines who stood over six feet tall and spoke as if his mouth was full of pudding. He had waved a hand in the direction of the quarter deck saying, ‘Over there, Lieutenant, over there.’

  The first officer was a Mr. Osborne, a stern-looking man who had a permanently worried expression.

  On installing himself in the wardroom, David was confused to learn that he was one of two fourth lieutenants; there were also two third lieutenants.

  ‘The captain has his own way,’ Mr. Osborne explained. ‘You are a boarding officer, but should it be required you will act as fou
rth.’

  A boarding officer, that conjured up pictures of stopping and searching merchantmen. All was made clear at the officers’ briefing that evening.

  Captain Porter was short. Standing before his officers, he looked almost comical as if he was still sitting down. His manner, however, was confident, almost harsh.

  ‘The Orion will reinforce the naval base in Antigua,’ he announced. ‘We shall be involved in keeping the dons in check. Also it is reported by the governor of Jamaica that there is a resurgence of piracy in his area. This murdering scum has succeeded in capturing a large amount of gold from the Spanish. His Majesty’s government would have that gold in England and I intend to give it to them.’ Turning back to his desk, Porter smiled to himself. ‘The Orion will act as flagship, whilst she is in Antigua for Admiral Keyton,’ he said. ‘The sloop Raven will act as escort.’ He turned back to the assembled officers. ‘That will be all.’

  The next few days saw a round of powder barges, water hoys and all manner of visiting craft. The marines, all sixty of them, drilled on the main deck or sat around polishing their kit. David got to know his fellow officers. Life in the wardroom was somewhat different to the midshipman’s berth, but once again, as the new boy, he was the baby of the mess.

  At last in an easterly gale the Orion weighed anchor and set out for the Atlantic.

  With thirty-five knots of wind behind her, the Orion disproved David’s opinion of her sailing ability. Under topsails and jibs she set a fine pace with the little sloop storming along ahead of her.

  The Orion’s crew were not like the crew of the Eagle, however, over half being green hands. Many were sick whilst others had to be driven aloft. Three days out a man refused to go into the rigging and was flogged.

  David had not seen a flogging in his five years in the navy, but two days later a second man was flogged and David began to understand his new captain’s nature.

  As the voyage progressed and David settled into his new life he became aware of an underlying atmosphere. His fellow officers were tight lipped and sullen. When he tried to engage them in conversation they said very little. One of the third officers, an Irishman from Cork, whispered that the captain had spies and to be careful what he said.

  The weather continued to make life hard with rain squalls and strong winds. Below decks all was damp and cold. The new men became less useful as the days went on. Finally, in a full gale the Orion hove to. The weather was now coming from the west as if to drive them back to Europe, the swell crossing the wind at almost right angles.

  Hove to, the Orion’s motion was uncomfortable and she was prone to sudden lurches in any direction. Manropes were rove from forward to aft but moving about the deck was dangerous for the unwary. Just after midnight on the second night the fore topsail blew out and the Orion swung her head up wind putting her beam onto the swell. She fell onto her larboard beam ends, throwing the watch across the deck. By the time the main topsail was set and order restored, one man was lost overboard and another was below with a broken arm.

  Three days later the wind dropped and then came back more moderately from the same direction. The Orion was forced to sail almost south, but at least it steadily became warmer. The captain ranted at the slow passage as if the crew were to blame.

  Standing on the fore deck, David watched the sloop as she ploughed along ahead of them. He wondered what the motion had been like on board the little vessel.

  He turned on hearing his name called and found the captain standing behind him.

  ‘Do you long to return to small ships, Lieutenant?’ He demanded.

  ‘No, sir,’ David quickly replied.

  ‘Well, you soon shall if you stand daydreaming on my ship.’ The captain turned and stamped back along the deck. David watched him go and then returned to the wardroom; he was off watch and had thought he had a right to daydream on his own time.

  Next day, for the first time, the weather allowed them to run gun drill. The new hands were slow in the extreme and three men were flogged for slacking, but the sun was shining and the ship began to dry out.

  That evening David quietly asked the Irishman, whose name was Michael Darling, if the ship was always run like this.

  ‘No.’ He grinned. ‘Today he was in a good mood.’

  As the days wore on the two young lieutenants slowly became friends. It seemed to David that the officers were afraid to trust each other. His opinion was borne out when Michael informed him that the captain dispensed favours for information about other officers.

  The whole crew brightened when at last the wind backed to the northeast and the Orion could point her bowsprit towards her destination.

  Every day was the same: gun drill, sail drill and then more gun drill, but it was working. The men were becoming a team, the broadsides faster, morale lifted and people even began to smile, at least when the captain was not present.

  Forty-two days after leaving Portsmouth the island of Antigua was raised on the horizon, but the breeze fell light and it was another day before the Orion dropped her anchor in a large bay, which had become known as Falmouth Harbour. The bay was surrounded by green hills rising to high cliffs to the north. Between cliffs and bay a headland stood out separating Falmouth Harbour from a creek in which the dockyard had been built. This creek was called English Harbour.

  The captain was now all of a bustle. The launch was lowered and with the boat’s crew in their best rig Porter was rowed around the headland into the dockyard.

  David watched as the crew of the sloop were ferried ashore to stretch their legs. Some swam in the shallow water whilst a party of some ten men with an officer set off in the direction of the dockyard.

  David approached the first lieutenant. ‘Might we let some of the men ashore, sir?’ He asked.

  ‘Not without the captain’s permission,’ came the reply. ‘Rig awnings and wind socks.’

  Porter returned long after dark and from the look of him he had eaten and drunk well. By then the off watch was asleep, having eaten the same half-rotten, salted meat as they had eaten for the previous forty-three days.

  The following day the captain slept late and on rising once more went ashore; still the first officer did nothing for the crew. At noon a water hoy came alongside, at least Mr. Osborne insisted on the casks being properly cleaned before refilling. That afternoon a local boat arrived with strange-looking vegetables and limes.

  ‘It seems they don’t intend us to starve,’ Michael remarked.

  A second sloop had anchored close by during the night and one of her officers came on board.

  David and Michael were summoned to the quarter deck and David was told that he would transfer to the Trojan with twenty men forthwith. At a briefing that evening all was explained.

  The plan was simple. The two sloops would go from island to island searching for pirates. One would slowly sail down the western seaboard whilst the other came round the eastern coast and meet up with her consort from the opposite direction, thereby catching the pirates between the two ships. Each sloop would have a boarding officer and twenty men in addition to her own crew.

  Lieutenant Swan of the Raven was short, thin and serious-looking. The captain of the Trojan, the second sloop, was taller with a handsome face but the same serious expression. His name was Peterson. It was he who spoke.

  ‘From what our spies tell us, this pirate is as savage as any we’ve known,’ he began. ‘The Spanish are blaming him for the thoughtless massacre not only of their troops but settlers and natives alike. They also believe he has a large amount of their gold.

  ‘I have also received a report from the captain of a local schooner who claims he saw a brig in pursuit of an English merchant ship.

  ‘Owing to the ongoing war with Spain most of this is second-hand hearsay. I have taken the Trojan through the islands, talking to what settlers there are, and have found no sign of pirates. I have, however, seen a lot of Spanish naval movement.

  ‘Mr. Fletcher, you will join the Troj
an with your half of the extra men. Mr. Darling will take his men into the Raven. If we can get alongside this pirate, you will board him. I will send my gun crews in support under my first lieutenant, Mr. Charles.

  ‘The flag officer in Antigua is insistent that the pirate brig is not sunk in case there is gold on board. Equally he wishes prisoners who might know of the gold’s whereabouts.’

  It was decided to start north of Antigua; the mass of islands between it and Jamaica seemed the most likely hiding place. The French and Spanish controlled most of the major islands to the south anyway.

  The two sloops worked their way slowly from island to island. It was necessary to sail well out over the horizon in order to approach each island from both ends without being seen by some hilltop lookout before they were in position.

  Where there were sheltered bays on both sides of an island they would approach at night, arriving with the dawn. This was fraught with risk as the reefs could not be seen in the dawn light.

  A month later they were still searching, having seen nothing of any pirates. Both ships were low on water and supplies and it was decided to put into Tortola to replenish.

  The talk there was of the war and its lack of progress.

  ‘It’s two years since Porto Bello was taken from the Spanish with the loss of only seven men,’ an old man exclaimed. ‘What since?’

  The officers of the two sloops toasted the man. ‘This war will warm up,’ one said.

  ‘The dons won’t stay away from us for long,’ said another.

  Tortola was a small town at the end of a shallow bay; the creek ended in some low hills that quickly became higher as you looked north. All was quiet and peaceful, the sun shone down and life continued at a slow pace.

  What know these people of war? David thought.

  On leaving Tortola the ships retraced their steps back towards Antigua, sending a negative report to the dockyard admiral as they passed. Now they stood on for the French islands. News from England made it clear that the French were intending to involve themselves in the conflict and so it was decided, by the two captains, that they would look into the anchorages as they passed to note any sign of preparation for war.