by Eric Flint
As the Friesland approached the impromptu fleet, Captain de Groot surveyed his captures with satisfaction. Pointing to the waiting ships, he ordered his First Lieutenant, “Pieter, see if they have any food supplies or spare sails we can use. Then transfer all the prisoners onto that larger dogger and prepare to burn the rest. I’d like to be there when you fire them.”
“Aye, aye Captain!” De Beers replied. “I’ll have the longboat crewed and away shortly. As soon as I retrieve one of the boarding parties’ boats, I’ll send it back for you.”
De Groot arrived at the larger French fishing boat, the Berthe, just as de Beers was preparing to transfer the prisoners. An older man, evidently the captain by his manner, called out. “Why are you doing this to us? We’re nothing but harmless fishermen. Our families will starve if you burn our boats.” Tears were streaming down his face in frustration and pain.
“Go ask your King why. By now his treachery has probably destroyed my country. I haven’t the means to strike back at his fleet, but I can still sting him in his colonies. And I’ll keep stinging as long as I am able!” The Frenchman quailed at the vehemence in de Groot’s answer. As he was descending into the waiting longboat, de Groot grabbed a lit torch and descended into the open hold.
A few minutes later, Tjaert emerged with a bleak smile on his face. Wisps of smoke were already starting to rise from the open hatch. He hurried over to the waiting boat. “Push off smartly! The fish oil down below will feed the flames hotter than a furnace. You’ve all done a good job today. I just wish the Cardinal could feel the heat of these flames.” As the boat reached the Friesland , flames engulfed the mainsail on the fishing boat.
Aboard the dogger, the prisoners also watched the flames. The French captain, Rene Chaumont, crossed himself and muttered a silent prayer. Tears streamed from his eyes as he watched his livelihood burn to the waterline. One of the Englishmen shouted out, “They’re nothing but pirates! We must try and retake our ship.”
Rene turned away as his ship started to settle beneath the waves. “You’re crazy! If they were pirates, we would have been left aboard to die in the flames. May God forgive that Dutchman. His thirst for revenge burns as hot as my ship. If he’s not careful it may consume him too. But if we try to take the ship, they would be within their rights to kill us. While we live, we may still find some way to return to our families. I just don’t know how we’ll be able to feed them with our ships gone. Has anyone heard what they intend to do with us?” The question was quickly translated among the crews, but no one had heard a thing. When Rene turned back, all that remained of the Berthe was some smoldering wreckage, bobbing on the waves.
Aboard the Friesland, Lieutenant de Beers was asking the Captain a similar question before he returned to the dogger. “What are your plans, Sir? Do we keep hunting? We’ve taken on enough supplies to stretch our voyage out for at least two more months.”
De Groot paused, surveying the horizon that was now empty of sails. “I think it’s time to kill two birds with one stone. We need to get rid of the prisoners.” De Beers looked alarmed at the ominous statement. “No Pieter, I’m not going to do anything rash. What I have in mind is a visit to the English at Ferryland. We can dump the prisoners off on them and raid the settlement at the same time. Set course north by north nor’ west. After we finish there, I’ll decide what’s next.” He smiled, “Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a French trader heading for the Cabot Strait.”
A week later, head winds still had the Friesland and the fishing boat almost a hundred leagues south of Ferryland. Aboard the fishing boat, the crowded conditions were raising tempers and complaints. The bosun, in the longboat, arrived with orders for the prize crew. Lieutenant de Beers assembled the prisoners, under guard, and made an offer. “Many of you have complained about the crowded conditions and wanted to know what is to become of you. I have an offer for you. Any man who will join our crew will be transferred to the Friesland and draw pay just like any other crewman. Those of you who choose to stay will be left at Ferryland once we make landfall there. I’ll give you five minutes to talk amongst yourselves and then I expect your answers.” He turned toward the stern to at least create an illusion of some privacy on the small deck. The prisoners broke into small groups, by their ships and nationalities. Only among the Spanish crew was there a heated discussion. When the five minutes were up, de Beers returned and asked the crews for their answers.
Captain Chaumont spoke for all the French. “We will stay together and face whatever fate awaits us at Ferryland. We hope to eventually return to our families. That’s all I have to say.” He deliberately turned his back on de Beers in anger.
The English captain shrugged his shoulders. “We’re from Ferryland. We’ll return home.”
The Spanish captain stepped forward, “We four will also stay together.” Suddenly his three crewmen pushed him aside.
“He does not speak for us! We want to join you.”
The captain swung a wild haymaker that knocked the nearest sailor flat on his back. “You traitors! I say what we do!”
Before de Beers could intervene, one of the Spaniards pulled a short knife from his waistband and stabbed the captain below the ribcage. Eyes wide in surprise, the captain slid to the deck without a sound. The Dutch guards immediately seized the sailor and threw him to the deck beside his victim. De Beers was momentarily stunned by the violence and then quietly asked, “Didn’t I tell you to search them for weapons? That could be me lying there.”
Before the guards could answer, one of the other Spanish sailors spoke up. “He found it below in the hold with the fish. We’re Maranos and the captain treated us terribly since we signed on. He’d threatened to turn us over to the Inquisition when we got back to Spain if we helped you.” Pointing toward his compatriot he stated flatly, “He had no choice.” The other sailor simply shook his head in agreement, too terrified to speak.
De Beers reached down and picked up the knife, after wiping it on the corpse. “Very well. Load them in the longboat and we’ll let the captain sort this out.” As an afterthought he added, “And load the body too. At least we can give him a decent burial.” The guards quickly hurried the three sailors over the side before the rest of the prisoners could take advantage of the confusion.
The bosun pushed off as soon as the body was secured in the thwarts.
When they reached the Friesland, the bosun took all three sailors immediately before the captain and explained what had transpired. Captain de Groot fixed the three sailors with a stare that left them fidgeting. He finally pronounced sentence, “For what you’ve done before you come to this ship, you’ll answer to God for those deeds. On my ship, you follow my rules and you’ll earn your pay. This is a Dutch warship and we’re fighting Spain, England and France. If you can’t live with that, you’re welcome to leave.” He pointed over the siderail.
Francisco, the sailor who had knifed the captain, spoke up. “We will all gladly serve on your ship, Captain. We were no better than slaves where we were. Where do we make our mark?”
“The bosun will take care of that and show you where you’ll hang your hammock.” Tjaert signaled the bosun to show the men out. A hail from the deck for the watch to turn to heralded a favorable change in the wind. Tjaert had left instructions with the helmsman to call him only if necessary. When no messenger arrived, he took off his boots and lay down in his cot. The next few days would be busy.
* * *
The sun was just setting behind the hills as the Friesland dropped anchor just out of sight of the English settlement at Ferryland to its south. Captain de Groot assembled the crew on the main deck while he stood at the rail of the aftercastle to address them. “Men, we’re here to burn the boats and land the prisoners. As soon as it’s dark, the off watch will go ashore in two boats. Lieutenant Aamodt will lead you. Half of you will carry materials for firing the boats, the rest will carry cutlasses or clubs. I don’t expect any trouble. Surprise should eliminate the need for guns. The l
ookout says there are only two ships there, so you can board both of them at the same time. When you’re done, return to the dogger and land the prisoners south of the village. They can walk the last mile back. Lieutenant de Beers will be in charge of that part of this evenings fun. Dismissed!” He turned to the officer standing behind him. “Lieutenant Aamodt, see to your men and their supplies. I expect you to be ready inside the hour. Remember, keep the men quiet and keep the casualties to a minimum. We’re here to burn the boats, not commit atrocities.”
“Aye, aye Captain. I understand completely.” Hinrich hurried down the ladder and started sorting out the crews for the two boats.
As the boats pushed off, Francisco whispered to his new messmate at the opposite oar, “Why does the Captain do this? Have these people done something to him?”
Without breaking stroke, his mate replied, “You weren’t there when the French and English betrayed us. The Captain’s got a good solid hate on for them, and so do the rest of us. These people may not have done anything then, but they’re the only ones we can fight back at now. Maybe in time the Captain will end his private war, but only if he learns that Holland survives.”
The lieutenant hissed, “Quiet! We don’t need the English roused and waiting for us!”
* * *
Dawn found the Friesland and its consort heading back south. Captain de Groot paced the afterdeck, chatting with a weary, smoke stained Lieutenant. “Jan, you did a good job. Both ships destroyed, the prisoners landed and only one casualty.”
Lieutenant Aamodt sighed, “There shouldn’t have been any. That new man missed his grip as we boarded and drowned before we could find him in the dark.”
Tjaert shook his head in sympathy. “God works in mysterious ways. Maybe it was his fate for his deed.” He glanced up and checked the set of the sails. They were drawing nicely. “In any case, we’re shed of the prisoners and the English can try to figure out how to feed them this winter. Now let’s see what Frenchmen we can find in the Strait.”
Chapter 9
January 1634, Copenhagen
"I never thought I’d be a duenna," John complained, while he walked behind Svend and Agnes through the snow. Today was Svend’s big day to show Agnes around the ship. Agnes was so eager for the tour that she decided to accompany John and Svend on their errand beforehand. John pushed the wheelbarrow that would carry the wine Captain Foxe wanted for his own stores for the voyage down the cobblestone street. Luke had given Svend a list of what he was to purchase and a full coin purse to pay for it. It seemed that Bundgaard had passed the word that anyone who sold to Captain Foxe would be visited by his toughs. Sending John and Svend was Mette’s idea, to avoid Bundgaard’s monopoly and get a better price on the wine. John still felt uneasy about Bundgaard and hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble for the youngsters. “We should only be here a short time. Then we can return to the ship for your tour.”
Agnes smiled at Svend. The light snowflakes that had settled on her hair and eyelashes made Svend think of the fairies he had read about.
The wine shop owner was a rotund, red-faced gentleman who evidently sampled his own wares. Svend handed him the list and was surprised when the price quoted was half of what Bundgaard wanted. While the shop owner loaded the bottles, he kept up a constant stream of advice. “Remember young sir; let the bottles have a chance to settle before you have them served. Also, store them on their sides to keep the corks moist. That will help preserve the wine's flavor.” Svend paid for the purchase and then they left.
When they reached the ship, the snow was coming down hard enough to muffle all sound. Agnes’ eyes lit up in delight. The rigging was covered in snow. “It looks like it’s covered in lace!” Two crewmen spotted John and hurried down the gangplank to assist in bringing the wine on board.
“I must be old,” John muttered, “pushing a wheelbarrow like this never was this hard before.”
Svend laughed. “Mistress Roe, may I present the ship Köbenhavn and its crew, ready for your inspection.”
Agnes dropped a curtsey. “Thank you, good sir. I am ready.” She offered her arm to Svend.
John broke down laughing at their antics. The laughter spread to Svend and Agnes and all three boarded the Köbenhavn , unable to stop laughing.
The laughter brought Luke on deck to investigate. When he spotted John laughing, he called across the deck, “Mr. Barrow, I sent you to fetch the wine, not sample it!”
John looked like a fish out of water, until he realized the captain was just pulling his leg. He turned to Svend and winked. "I guess I'm in trouble. You'll just have to escort Mistress Roe by yourself."
Svend helped Agnes ascend the ladder to the aftercastle. "Here is where the captain runs the ship." Agnes walked to the railing and peered down. She stepped back quickly, "That's a long way down to the water."
"Not half as far down as the view from the masthead," Svend said.
"This is quite high enough for me. I'll never go that high up." She gestured back to the stern and asked, "What's the porch at the end of the boat for?"
"This is a ship, not a boat and that porch is the captain's walk. When Captain Foxe wants some privacy, he has his own deck area. If you'll follow me, I'll show you his cabin and where the officers and staff are berthed"
For the next hour, Svend guided Agnes on a tour of the ship. The cramped crews' quarters were warm, even though it was snowing on deck and were rank with the smell of unwashed bodies mixed with the smells from the bilge. They beat a hasty retreat from the smells and took a short cut through the half-filled hold to reach the ladder leading to the forecastle. When they were back on deck, Svend announced, "That's the tour for the ship. Do you have any questions?"
Agnes blushed but asked, "It's been a long morning. Can you direct me to the necessary room before we go?"
Svend felt like he had swallowed a fly. Captain Foxe and Mr. Barrow were nearby and overheard the exchange. "Didn't I tell you, John? Just the other day I said we should have Mette come by to get a woman's point of view! We'll have to make provision for any female passengers we embark! Mistress Roe, I must apologize but the only one we have is for the crew. It would not be appropriate for a lady. I imagine what Svend choked on was the thought of trying to explain the head to you. Master McDermott, escort Mistress Roe to the King's Arms Inn up the street. She can freshen up there and we all can have a nice meal before you escort her back to Sir Thomas' house."
* * *
During the meal, Captain Foxe regaled the youngsters with tales from his last voyage to the New World. Two hours later, while Svend walked Agnes to her uncle's house, she stopped to admire the ship again through the curtain of snow. "I truly envy you, Svend McDermott. So many adventures ahead. I wish I could go with you." She took Svend by his hands, reached up on tip toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for letting me see a little of your new world." She paused for a moment and then pulled him along as she headed off for her uncle’s house. "I should be getting home soon. Cook will wonder what's become of me."
Even with the snow swirling around them, Svend could have sworn the sun was shining.
* * *
That evening, after all the supper patrons had been served and the main room had cleared, Luke asked Mette to join him. “Mette, I’ve come to value your advice. I need a woman’s perspective on a problem that has come up. The expedition’s planning has overlooked the women’s needs and that could cause some serious problems. Could you take some time out from your busy schedule to help me identify what I’ve missed?”
“Of course, Captain. You’ve done so much already for me and my family; I would be delighted to help.”
When she smiled, Luke screwed up his courage to ask the other question he had been afraid to ask. “Mette, I’ve also come to value my time spent here. I’ve never really had much of a family. My wife died during my last voyage to the New World and I have no close relatives. Svend has almost become a son to me.”
“He’s spoken highly of you, too.
He’s missed his father and you are such a good influence and so much like his father. The other children have enjoyed the tales you’ve told in the evenings. I have, too. You should consider publishing your journal. People would be interested in the New World. You’ve brought a joy to the house that hasn’t been here for some time.” She blushed a bit. “I’ve enjoyed your company, too, Captain.”
“Please call me Luke. This is very hard for me. I know you lost your husband to the sea and I’m not a young man, but would you entertain an offer of courtship? I’ve nothing to offer but myself and my ship right now. But if this expedition is successful, we should be able to retire very comfortably.”
Mette sat as though she were in a daze. Luke slowly rewrote Dante’s Inferno in his mind, with himself as the main character, as he waited for Mette’s reply. He had reached the third level of Purgatory when a smile lit up Mette's face. “I would be honored, Luke.” In one galvanic leap, Luke’s heart went from hell to heaven.
Mette continued, “I’ve had similar feelings, but was afraid to voice them. Let’s wait to tell the children until your plans are more settled.”
Luke took Mette’s hand and drew her to him. It was quite some time before they remembered the expedition’s needs.
* * *
The letter had arrived the day after Christmas, to announce that the miners Herr Cavriani had convinced to join the expedition were on their way to Copenhagen. Adolphus Bamberg had just enough warning to convert his warehouse into temporary quarters. When he finished, Sir Thomas and Reuben Abrabanel stopped in to check on the progress.
