Buccaneer (37 page)

“Thought I’d better halt here, sir,” Day explained. “Didn’t want us marching into the town without the drums beating!”

“You were quite right,” Ned said, cursing himself for having forgotten the chance that they would get down so quickly. “We’ll wait here,” he announced to the rest of the men. “But try and find some boulders to shelter behind, because when the magazine goes up…”

The whore was arguing with the major, but Ned interrupted, tapping the major on the shoulder. It seemed only fair to warn him.

“Major, your castle might explode soon, so you and your officers and your, ah, friend, will have to lie down behind some boulders. For your own safety,” he added.

It was difficult to estimate the time. The moon, now waning, rose while they were lying on the ground behind their boulders, and moved quickly on its westward path. Ned guessed as the time dragged past. Fifteen minutes, half an hour… He almost dozed.

“How long do you reckon it’s been, sir?” Roberts whispered.

“More than an hour. It’s gone out.”

“Well, not our lucky day,” Roberts said philosophically.

“Give me the lantern.”

“Why – where are you going, sir?”

“I’m going to check that fuse. You stay here in charge of the party.”

“Indeed, I don’t, sir,” Roberts said angrily. “If you’re going back, then I’m coming with you.”

“You’ll do as you’re told and stay here, Roberts.”

“My bloody oath, I –”

The flash lit distant mountain peaks before almost blinding them; the land trembled so violently that Ned thought the whole ridge was going to collapse on top of Santiago. It was not so much the sound of an explosion but a vast noise, a massive thunderclap that rumbled, reverberated and echoed, and as it stopped thousands of frightened dogs began barking, startled gulls mewed and wheeled below, and landbirds fled with shrill cries. Then the Castillo, its walls blown into separate blocks and chips, angled pieces and coping stones, began tumbling out of the sky, and the whore began a shrill chant which seemed to be one enormously long word but was every prayer she ever knew strung together.

At first light Ned saw the
Griffin
making the turn into the narrow entrance, her mainsail slamming as she occasionally lost the wind. Close astern were the
Peleus
and the
Phoenix
, but the cliffs hid the other four privateers he knew would be waiting their turn to come in.

Standing there on the Catalina battery with Roberts and Day and looking up at the still-smoking pile of rubble that at sunset yesterday had been the Castillo, Ned found it hard to believe. Most if not all of the town’s most important citizens were now assembled in the
plaza
; three bronze guns here at the battery and nine more at the jetty would ensure the defence of Jamaica’s harbour; and Thomas and Saxby with their men were rounding up everything of value in Santiago that could be carried away as purchase.

He knew Aurelia would be standing on the
Griffin
’s foredeck, excited, perhaps frightened (but he thought not), and maybe worried at the sight of the grim pile at the cliff top. The ships at Aguadores would have seen the flash and heard the explosion and she would be fearful for his safety until the
Griffin
could see the Catalina battery. Now the sight of a white flag flying at each end (linen sheets from the
Griffin
and, Aurelia had said emphatically, to be returned as soon as all the ships were in port) might reassure her: they showed that Santiago had been captured by the buccaneers. He imagined Diana, too, standing at the bow of the
Peleus
, a brunette Viking, anxious to see Thomas. Last night might well have been the first time they had slept apart for some years, and sleeping alone was the ultimate solitude, as he had just learned.

“We must get back to the
plaza
,” he told the three men. “Sir Thomas will want to know that the ships are coming in.”

With the sun still below the horizon it was cool, but the stench in Santiago was appalling; piles of rotting garbage scattered every few yards along the streets were being raked over by dogs and hogs. Once the sun was blazing down the smell would become almost unbearable.

In the
plaza
at least half the buccaneers were standing at intervals round the four sides holding muskets and pistols trained on a couple of hundred men and women who were sitting or lying on the flagstones, most covered with blankets and many moaning as if mourning at a funeral. In one corner of the
plaza
Ned saw the reflection of metal and realized it was a pile of gold and silver objects, presumably plates and goblets, cutlery and probably articles from the cathedral, which formed half of one side of the
plaza
.

From time to time four or five buccaneers walked into the
plaza
from side roads and added more items to the pile, handling the precious metals as nonchalantly as foresters might pile up logs for the winter.

Ned then realized that one of the three men slowly walking across the
plaza
and talking to the assembled Spaniards was Thomas, whom he found in excellent spirits.

“The
Griffin
is coming in, with the
Peleus
close astern.”

“Excellent, Ned. Let’s hope they can get alongside the jetty without stoving in a plank or two!”

“I checked the guns: twelve bronze altogether, and 1,500 shot to fit them.”

“That should protect the anchorage for a while and old General Heffer is going to be pleased. Now, I must get on. Some of these people are not being helpful. In fact you and your men can stay with me to scare them.”

Thomas had managed to find a privateersman who spoke passable Spanish, and once he had taken Santiago he discovered a Spaniard with good English. Now Thomas was checking the identities of his prisoners, and the more important were being sent to one corner of the
plaza
: they would not be freed until a good ransom was paid.

“Who have you found up to now?” Ned asked.

“Most of those that matter: the town governor was in his bed – he’s over there now, in the special corner. The bishop of Santiago, the
Intendente
, who is in effect the town treasurer, the mayor, some important officials from Havana who were visiting the governor… I’m just checking these people to find a few wealthy business men.”

“And the town treasury?”

“That was the first place we captured after your bang! No time to count the gold but there are bags of coins, ingots… I’ve never seen so much in my life. I have twenty men guarding it. We’ll carry it out to the
Griffin
and
Peleus
, but we’ll include men from each of the privateers in the guards, just so they’ll rest easy in their minds.”

With that, Thomas pointed and asked the translator: “Who is this man?”

The portly Spaniard sitting with a gaudy blanket round his shoulders stood up nervously and bowed. He listened to the translator, who then gave his reply. “He is a dealer in slaves.”

“How many does he import a year?”

“Not many because he buys most of them from the market in Havana and resells in this part of the island.”

“How many does he sell a year?”

Ned noticed the cunning look in the fat dealer’s eyes. The translator was speaking slowly when he translated into Spanish, giving his fellow countryman time to think. Ned tapped the translator on the arm. “Talk faster when you translate. I speak Spanish, and one mistake by you means your throat will be cut. And you are responsible for people answering honestly.”

Thomas immediately understood what was in Ned’s mind, knowing he did not speak Spanish.

“Ned! I’d forgotten that you speak Spanish – and French, of course. Anyway, let this fellow exercise his tongue, but I’d be grateful if you’d listen.”

“But señor,” the man protested. “I am doing my best. This man is very wealthy and very cruel, and when you go he will probably have me bastinadoed for helping you!”

“Most unfortunate,” Thomas said. “When we go, I suggest you move to the other end of the island. Now, how many slaves does he sell a year?”

Day had taken out his knife and was absent-mindedly stropping it against the leather sleeve of his jerkin, and the slave dealer was watching the blade nervously as it turned over and slid along, turned over and slid back.

“He says five hundred a year, but he is lying. Ten times as many.”

Ned nudged Day. “Scare him a little, but don’t hurt him.”

Day gave a truly diabolical laugh, tossed his knife in the air, caught it without looking and then prodded the fat Spaniard’s stomach with his finger, as though seeking a soft place to insert the blade. The Spaniard fainted, collapsing beside his wife like a poleaxed steer.

Thomas wrote on the slate he was carrying. “I’ll put him down for the value of five thousand slaves. Who’s next?”

It took him two hours to select forty-one of Santiago’s leading citizens and put a price on their heads. In each case the husband was released to go off and find the money while the wife and children were kept in the
plaza
.

“Every one of them a married man,” Thomas commented to Ned. “I’m not sure of the significance.”

“It’s a bad place for bachelors,” Ned said. “By the way, how are these people going to pay ransom if you’ve already looted their homes?”

“You are new to the game,” Thomas said. “When we looted the houses we took plate, any jewellery we could find, and money. But as usual we found very little money. They hide their coins – bury them in the garden, put them up a chimney, under a stair…”

“But they were not expecting buccaneers – we know that.”

Thomas bellowed with laughter, a roar which made mothers and daughters clasp each other in fear that it was the preliminary to a massacre. “Not buccaneers, Ned; they’re frightened of the Spanish tax men!”

“Do they pay such heavy taxes?”

“I don’t know what they pay, but they are
charged
heavy taxes. These islands, and the Main and Mexico, have to support themselves with local taxation: they get nothing from the gold and silver mining: that goes direct to the Spanish crown.” He glanced up at the sun, which was now heating the
plaza
. “Well, now we wait for the ransom to arrive. Let’s go over and see our womenfolk and make arrangements to start loading the ships.”

By dawn next day each of the seven privateers was loaded. The
Griffin
had three of the brass culverins stowed in her hold, the
Peleus
three, the
Phoenix
two and the other four privateers had one each. Thomas Whetstone had found five brass three-pounders on ordinary carriages, owned by the army and left in the town, while in the town hall were stored ninety breast, back and headpieces of armour. Neither he nor Ned were very sure how much use armour would be – anyone wearing them would be assumed to be Spanish because of the design, but Ned suggested that for a particular occasion they could be painted an unusual light colour.

The Catalina battery had a bigger magazine than anyone expected: Ned guessed that much of the material stored in it had been brought down recently from the castle, in anticipation of building the second battery mentioned by the major. Anyway, the
Griffin
,
Peleus
and
Phoenix
were each carrying five hundred roundshot for the cannons, while the
Griffin
had thirty barrels of powder, the
Peleus
seventy-five Spanish muskets and twenty-five barrels of bullets, and the
Phoenix
had three hundred empty grenade cases and ten barrels of brimstone. She also had two hundred bundles of slowmatch, although Burton’s verdict on it was that the plaited mangrove was more reliable.

The gold, silver and pewter plate, flagons, tankards, candelabra and cutlery had been listed, stowed in sacks and finally distributed in the holds of the seven privateers; the jewellery by common consent had been locked in a thick blanket chest and stowed in the
Griffin
with four armed men guarding it. The money, in sacks and boxes, was in the
Peleus
and the
Griffin
.

Except for twenty-two wives still under guard in the
plaza
awaiting ransom payments by their husbands, the buccaneers were ready to sail, and Thomas had been rowed over to the
Griffin
.

“Those damned women,” he said. “Or damned husbands, rather. I shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted and sent them mattresses to sleep on, and blankets. What sort of husband would leave his wife in the
plaza
, captive to buccaneers?”

“Tightfisted ones, obviously!” Ned said. “You put such a high ransom on those husbands that when you let them go to get the money and kept the wives as hostages, they decided their wives weren’t worth that much!”

Thomas stared at him incredulously and, after a minute’s thought nodded. “Either that or they think we’ll get impatient and go, leaving them behind. Well, we’ll soon see if they’re bluffing!”

“You can’t call on them,” Ned teased.

“No, but I can bring those women out to the ships! They – the husbands – will think we are taking them with us. Yes, we’ll distribute the women in the
Griffin
,
Peleus
and
Phoenix
, send the children home and prepare to sail. I’ll bet we’ll get results!”

“How will the reluctant husbands pay? Shall I stay in the
plaza
with a couple of dozen men?”

“No – let Saxby; he looks fiercer than you. A dozen weeping husbands swearing they don’t have a doubloon to their names will break your heart!”

With that Thomas was climbing down to his boat to collect the women, calling to Ned to give the orders to the four privateers, making sure that they spent half an hour or so making obvious preparations to sail.

When he went down to the cabin to explain Thomas’ plan to Aurelia and warn her that eight or ten tearful Spanish ladies would be coming on board soon, he had expected her to be angry because of Thomas’ apparent ruthlessness. He was not prepared for her to storm round the cabin in a fury, cursing the delinquent Spanish husbands and using many French words that Ned had never heard before. As he prided himself on his ability to curse fluently in French, he made a mental note to insist on translations later. The sight of this wildcat striding round the cabin naked – she had been sleeping in the hammaco – was in one sense alarming (in case one day he should be the cause of a similar outburst) and in another very rousing.