Admiral (20 page)

“There’s only one way into that place,” he said, “and that’s across the bridge they’ve inconveniently removed. We’d never get up those cliffs – it’d be hard work for goats.”

When Ned did not reply, Thomas said diffidently: “There’s no reason why we should bother with it, I suppose; Portobelo is our target.”

Thomas was quite right; Ned knew that if he was honest with himself his sole idea in attacking the two islands was to stir up the Spanish, frightening the Viceroy in Panama into withdrawing his soldiers from Jamaica. Yet the Providence garrison could only be recalled once the Spanish Viceroy knew that Providence and Portobelo were in danger or lost – and that could only be after the Portobelo raid. It would take days, perhaps two or three weeks, for the word to cross the Isthmus…

“You could say we’ve captured Providence without firing a shot,” Ned said dryly. “With the Spanish shut up in that island across the way, there’s not much they can do. Nor us, I suppose, although we can use the anchorage and hunt down their beeves…”

As if the Spanish had been listening to him, the crash of a cannon echoed between the two islands.

Both men, realizing this new gun was on the south side of Santa Catalina, looked across at the ships. A tall column of water leapt up two hundred yards or more short of the nearest privateer.

“Extreme range,” Thomas commented. “No need to worry.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The ball didn’t bounce. When you throw a flat stone low on to the surface of a pond, it skates because of the low elevation. Throw a rounded pebble into the middle and it sinks where it hits because it is landing almost vertically. Obvious, Ned.”

“Yes, your grace; it was a silly question.”

“More to the point, though, one can see it is the extreme range for any guns they are likely to have over there.”

At that moment Leclerc and several other captains appeared, breathless, after running down some of the side-streets. Ned pointed out where the shot had landed, but two of the captains were not convinced about the range, wanting to go back on board their ships and anchor further out.

“You can’t get much further out because there’s a reef to seaward of us,” Ned said. “You can come closer in towards here, or back the way we came.”

At that moment the gun fired again and there was another spurt of water in the same place.

“That’s his ship,” Leclerc said, pointing to one of the captains.

“Don’t expect any sympathy from us,” Thomas said sourly. “This earth on our clothes comes from the ditch up the hill there, where we were the sole targets of two guns, as you saw.
Well
within range, I assure you.”

Leclerc spoke in rapid French to the captain, Rideau, who shrugged and started off up the hill to rejoin his men.

“What do we do now?” Leclerc asked.

“Capture Santa Catalina and then get under way for Portobelo,” Ned said, and was surprised to hear his own voice speaking so matter-of-factly about a decision he was unaware he had made.

“This afternoon?” Leclerc asked, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“No, tomorrow morning. It’ll take the rest of the day for the men to get what they want from Puerto Catalina.”

Back on board the
Griffin
, with Thomas having collected Diana from the
Peleus
on the way, Ned heard Aurelia’s description of the cannon which had fired at the anchorage.

“Five shots, as you heard,” she said. “And all the balls landed in more or less the same place, two or three hundred yards short of the nearest ship,
La Meduse
. When they fired no more I decided that was as far as they could reach, so I told the men we should not move the
Griffin
. They wanted to fire back, but with the perspective glass I could see the Spanish have the gun almost hidden among the rocks. And if they couldn’t reach us I guessed we could not reach them…”

Ned looked at Diana, who was sitting on the settee in the cabin next to Aurelia, her hair hanging down in well-brushed ringlets and looking, but for her divided skirt, as though she was paying a social call on a country neighbour. “And what did the bishop’s lady think?”

“The bishop’s lady was rather cross. She had decided to make use of the bishop’s absence by trimming her hair and washing it, we having plenty of water after that bad weather. So with wet hair wrapped up in a towel I came up on deck after the first bang, watched the fall of shot, used the perspective glass to see exactly where the gun was, reached the same decision as Aurelia, and went below to finish my hair.”

“And very nice it looks.” Ned said.

“Have the men finished looting Puerto Catalina yet?” Aurelia asked.

“No, they won’t be done until nightfall. Don’t sound so disapproving – this is their pay!” Ned said.

“I’m not disapproving,” Aurelia said. “It’s just that they’re going into people’s
homes
…”

“I agree,” Diana said. “Rob the treasury, the governor’s residence, the bishop’s house, the arsenal, warehouses and shops – but I have the same feeling about homes.”

“Ned’s as soft as you are, “ Thomas growled. “The Spanish landing in Jamaica would
burn
the homes after looting them…”

Ned put tankards on the table and reached for a bottle. “Thomas, would you open the door and pass the word for Lobb?”

The
Griffin
’s mate came down to the cabin.

Ned said: “I want you to pick a couple of men – ask for volunteers – to take a perspective glass and go over to Providence. They must climb up to the top of the easiest of these two closest peaks and watch for sail on the horizon. They should get back to the beach again an hour before sunset, and report to me.”

Lobb grinned as he said: “I’ve just the right men, sir: a couple of Highlanders who’ve been telling me how these peaks and valleys remind them of home. Can they take muskets in case they see something worth shooting for fresh meat?”

“As long as they get to the top of a peak and then report to me an hour before sunset. They must be on board here by that time, or earlier if they sight more than four ships.”

Lobb left the cabin and Thomas pointed to the glasses. “You’re getting absent-minded: they’re still empty.” As soon as he had taken a sip or two of rum, he said: “The captains are due on board an hour before sunset, too.”

“Yes,” said Ned casually, “it’s beginning to get cool by then.”

“What are you hatching?”

Ned gave a mock frown. “The admiral of the Brethren doesn’t ‘hatch’ anything. He makes well considered plans – like diving into a ditch – and gives well considered orders – like ‘Get your knee out of my stomach!’”

The two women looked puzzled, and Thomas described the gun firing at them as they walked up the hill, and their leap into the ditch. He then looked at Ned. “You’re not talking about the captains’ meeting then?” Ned shook his head. “I’m not being mysterious, but it all depends on those Highlanders.”

The captains arrived punctually in one boat, the rest of the craft still drawn up on the beach and being loaded with their purchase from the port, and Ned had just finished greeting them when Lobb reported that the two Highlanders were returning in a canoe.

Ned hurriedly handed the captains over to Thomas and took the Highlanders down to the cabin to hear their report in private. He had first to listen to one of them grumble bitterly at the amount of game to shoot, and after the second man had carefully returned the perspective glass, he heard what they had seen.

Then, after being assured in a dialect so broad he could barely understand it that Providence and Jamaica, with their mountains and valleys, crags and rocky spines, had so much more to offer than an island as flat as Barbados or as parched as Antigua, Ned thanked the men and went on deck to join the captains. They were gathered round Aurelia and Diana, both of whom were now wearing dresses with normal skirts and, Ned saw with pleasure, looked as though they were standing on their own lawns being agreeable at some function involving the estate’s male employees.

There was not much time to waste: the sun seemed to drop faster and faster in its plunge to the western horizon, and Ned quickly told the captains what he intended to do. They listened and then grinned as they agreed to it. The only disagreement came from Nicolo Secco, the Spanish captain.

“They will trick you,” he said flatly. “I know my countrymen. I must come as well. Do not introduce me – I will pretend to be your coxswain and bodyguard – I shall be able to hear any whispering and warn you in English without them realizing I speak Spanish.”

Ned did not have to think twice: Secco was a shrewd man and according to Leclerc a good seaman and completely trustworthy.

“Come on then, Thomas, it’s time we left.” Ned looked round and saw Lobb standing beside the entry-port holding a boarding pike. He waved when he saw Ned glance towards him, indicating that the canoe was alongside.

Ned kissed Aurelia and whispered a promise for the night; Thomas gave Diana a bear-like hug. Secco gave the women a courtly bow and followed the two men.

Five minutes later, squatting in the canoe being paddled round the southern end of Santa Catalina and into the channel separating it from the main island, the three men discussed the plan as Thomas took the boarding pike and twirled it to unwind the large white flag which had been secured to the upper half.

“Paddle faster,” he growled at the six seamen, “this cloth isn’t streaming out enough!”

Would the Spaniards honour a flag of truce? Ned thought they had nothing to lose and perhaps much to gain. If they had any sense they would meet the boat on the narrow beach just below where the bridge had been pulled back on to Santa Catalina.

There were no signals from the stark cliffs on their left; no sign from this angle that a human being had ever set foot on the hills behind. Puerto Catalina on the big island, now well over on their right, looked completely deserted at this distance, apart from the buccaneer boats on the beach.

He called to the men at the paddles and pointed to the small beach now coming into view on Santa Catalina. Thomas jerked a thumb upwards towards the top of the cliffs. “That dam’ fortress will be in sight in a moment – it’s just round this square-topped cliff.”

“We’ll rename it Fort Whetstone!”

“You’ll do no such thing! Leave it with its sainted name!”

The canoe had gone another three hundred yards, nearing the beach which was scooped out of the cliffs, when Ned noticed that steps had been carved out of the rock from the top of the cliffs down to sea level, and that five men were now standing on the sand. A movement at the top of the cliff soon turned into four more men coming down the steps, one of them carrying a white flag.

“The reception committee is arriving,” he commented to Thomas and Secco.

“Thank goodness,” Thomas muttered. “I was waiting for the fort to start target practice again.”

Secco said: “Don’t forget that my name is ‘Brown’. If they suspected I was Spanish they might demand that I’m handed over as part of some agreement.”

Thomas laughed and slapped Secco on the back. “Don’t worry, we don’t sell our friends and no one would take you for a Spaniard, my dear Brown. You might almost pass for an Englishman. A Welshman, anyway.”

Two of the men paddling laughed delightedly, and Thomas added: “Sounds as though you have two countrymen there.”

“Come round a little to larboard,” Ned ordered. “We’ll run the boat’s stem up on the sand, but gently. A couple of you can stand in the water and hold her in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

They were now a hundred yards from the sand and could see wavelets lapping on it. Twenty yards back (“Careful not to get their feet wet!” Thomas observed) stood two Spanish officers with three soldiers who were holding swords.

“They should be unarmed,” Thomas grumbled, standing up with his white flag.

“Stop paddling,” Ned ordered, and murmured to Thomas: “We’ll wait until the Spaniard with their white flag has joined these chaps, just in case…”

As the boat drifted thirty yards from the water’s edge, one of the Spanish officers made an impatient gesture, waving it in to the beach. Ned called in the careful Spanish which Aurelia had been teaching him: “We wait until your flag of truce has arrived and your men have removed their swords.”

“You could be armed,” came the uncompromising answer.

“We are not, but one man standing up in a canoe is enough; more might capsize it. Only three of us will land.”

The officer turned to the soldiers, who thrust their swords into scabbards and walked over to the cliff, ostentatiously unbuckling their belts and leaving the swords and then returning.

By now the four men with the flag of truce had arrived at the far end of the beach. Ned saw that only the man carrying the flag and one other wore uniform; the other two were in ordinary clothes.

“Beach the boat,” Ned said to the men with the paddles, and warned Thomas to sit down, in case the impact unbalanced him.

Within two minutes Ned, Thomas and “Brown” were standing on the beach, three seamen were holding the canoe so that it would not drift broadside-on, and the remaining three seamen stayed on board, paddling to help keep it in position.

Ned walked up to the two officers. “You see we are not armed,” Ned said, “and we land under the flag of truce. My name is Yorke.”

“Hernández,” the older of the two officers said, bowing stiffly. “Commander of the garrison. And you are…?”

“An admiral. You see some of my ships.” Ned gestured seaward.

“Pah, they are pirates. You are a pirate leader!”

Ned shrugged his shoulders and smiled pleasantly. He continued in slow, careful Spanish: “Do not let us quarrel over words. Pirates, privateers, buccaneers – you can see only a few of my ships. Their men are pleased to call me their admiral. You,” and Ned’s smile became even friendlier, “are less fortunate: you call yourself the garrison commander, but you have no garrison!”

The man went white. He had been lulled by Ned’s quiet voice and smiling manner, little realizing that he was being led into a trap by a Ned who still was not sure that the garrison had been taken off and shipped to Jamaica.