by Smith, Skye
"I have been warned that the Kalinagos, the privateers, and the Spanish are the enemies of settlements."
"Aye, but there is something I fear more than men. The natives of the main Spanish islands are the Tainos, an older people than the Kalinagos, and their main god is Hurakan, the goddess of storms. As a Hebrew I believe in only one god, the God of Abraham, but when the goddess Hurakan roars her great voice, I pray to her. She is a destroyer and when she is truly angry she destroys everything in her path. Everything. She is a curse on all living things in these islands."
Daniel kept silent while Solomon prayed. Jews were very much like Brownists and other Puritans in that they would sometimes stop speaking mid thought to pray to their God, the same God as the Puritans, the God of the desert lands that were far away. He had learned long ago to keep his silence during these prayers and to think good thoughts and to stand watch and protect those who were lost in prayer. Solomon’s prayer was a long one, so he waited patiently and looked out over the plantation.
The workers in the closest cane field were chanting, as if in church, but the effect was more of a rhythm of beat than rhyme of words. They all wore hats woven from palm leaves, and had small capes of the same weaving covering their shoulders and upper backs, and had leggings of the same weave tied to hang in front of their bare legs. Other than the palm weavings, the men and women working the cane wore little else other than a cloth wrapped to keep the flies and dust out of their private parts.
The men were better equipped with weapons than the armies of the ancients had carried into battle. In one hand they carried a steel hook, and with it they grabbed at some stalks to bend them away from the stand of cane. In the other hand they carried a weighted bush knife that was every bit as long as a short sword. With it they cleaved the bent over cane near to the ground. After a few cuts they would run the blade against the steel of the hook to keep the blade razor sharp. The motion of hook, hack, sharpen had its own natural rhythm, to which they added the chant of their grunting and breathing... and all in time with each other.
The women held the same hooks, but a lighter bush knife and they were deft and fast with it as they cut the leaves from the downed cane. This hard work also had a rhythm and their breath also came in chants. Every once in a while one of the men would be handed a shared smoking pipe, and he would stand and stretch and look at the workers around him while he puffed on the pipe. Between puffs he would call to the others and grin, and even the call matched the rhythm of those who were still working.
It came to Daniel that the sugar cane was just a giant grass, and therefore the woven capes and leggings were not just for protection against the strong sun, but to protect bare skin from grass cuts. That explained the hooks as well, for until the stalk was cleared of leaves, no hand touched the cane, only hooks. It also came to him that these slaves were armed to the teeth with the equivalent of swords, and they knew how to wield them. He looked over at the praying man. Any of his slaves, male or female, would have made short work of him in a fight.
His mind lit up with an 'of course' thought. Solomon was a wizard of sugar. It was he who knew how to best grow this cane and how to best turn it into molasses and sugar. He chose these slaves to be farmers and he offered them a life which was good enough to give them something to lose. They, in turn, accepted him as their master and protector of that life. This was why they did not run and did not hack his neck with their bush knives.
Solomon opened his eyes and returned his stare. "We grow everything we need, so we share a good life here in the cane fields. Simple but good."
"Then you must grow tobacco too,” Daniel nodded towards the field and asked. "I notice the men sharing a pipe. Tobacco is addictive and expensive, so you must grow your own."
"They grow what they smoke but it is not tobacco,” Solomon replied. "It is hemp."
"Hemp? You jest. Every child has tried to smoke rope. It burns your throat and gives you a headache."
"That plant over there,” Solomon pointed to a patch of vigorous weeds at the end of the house, "is hemp. If you let it grow tall then the stalks are the stuff rope is made of. If you pinch it back, then it flowers and it is the flowers that they smoke. Unlike the stalks, smoking the flowers is quite pleasant. I encourage them to smoke it. It keeps them docile and musical, and keeps them happy at their work for hours at a time. I have a pipe here, would you like to try some?"
Solomon handed a pipe to Daniel who stared at it suspiciously and gave it a sniff. It smelled almost like tree resin. Solomon lit a match using his flint and steel, and then hovered the match over the pipe. As a young man Daniel had tried smoking tobacco, and rope, and even opium, but they always made him cough. He sucked gently on the pipe. The smoke was quite pleasant until he coughed.
Solomon chuckled. "It makes me cough, too." He pulled the match away and then turned and waved his hand towards the western horizon. "Beyond Kitts and to the west there is a group of many small islands, the Maagdeneilanden. The English call them the Virgins. They may have what you are searching for. I know that on the largest of them there are Dutchmen clearing land for sugar. Be warned though, that to the west of them is the large Spanish island of Puerto Rico. It is the Eastern base for the Spanish squadron that protects the treasure ships bound for Spain."
The information caught Daniel's immediate interest because it suggested a course for the quest his clan had set for him. Solomon and he spoke of many other things, but when he told Solomon about his passengers, the man's face brightened. "Then you will be in New England within two months?" he confirmed. "Could I ask you to take Raphael's letter and one of my own, to our uncle on Rhode Island? That island is just south of Massachusetts, so finding my uncle will not take you out of your way."
While Solomon wrote his letter, Daniel sucked gently on the pipe until he felt quite dizzy, so he put it down and went to explore the workings of the mill that was still under construction behind the house. There was a large palm thatch shade roof near to it, and under it the cane was being stacked in the shade presumably until the mill was ready to be fired. Also under the shade roof were a group of black women preparing food.
He went and sat with them while they peeled and boiled some fat roots. At first he thought the roots to be a type of potato, which he had eaten a few times at the tables of his wealthier London friends, but they were not. The women did not seem to mind his presence, and even taught him to say the name of the root, Cassava.
For most of the time, however, these sturdy black women studiously ignored him as if he were an embarrassment to them. This irked him because amongst English women he always caused a stir, for he was tall and trim and fair and handsome. He wondered if it were possible that these dark women pitied him as if he were an albino with disfigured skin. At home he had seen how the company of albinos made English women uncomfortable. It was almost a relief when Solomon called him away from the company of these women.
"I don't understand why Kitts and Barbados are not thriving,” Daniel stated. "Surely any farmer who settled here would make a pleasant life for his family."
"You are right, but it will never be," Solomon replied solemnly. "The patents to these islands were given by your king to companies of rich men. Their patent gives them a right to any profits from farming, and control of water for farming. The king’s chosen lords of these islands will do anything to discourage farmer settlers, for that would hurt the profits they expect to make from sugar and tobacco."
"That cannot be true,” Daniel interrupted, "The companies are transporting thousands to the colonies of the New World."
"Ah, but there are two New Worlds. There are the plantation colonies to the south of the great Delaware River where tobacco or sugar can turn a profit for the favoured lords. The folk transported to the plantation colonies are discouraged from fending for themselves so that the plantation companies can make a profit from their work. Those lords spend those profits in Britain and never visit the plantations."
"Is the Dela
ware River in the south of New England?" Daniel asked, trying to picture that chart in his head but finding it difficult to focus on anything. It must have been the smoke from the pipe, for he kept getting sidetracked by the view.
"Si, south of New Amsterdam and New England. The growing season changes at the Delaware, and north of there the plantation cash crops do not grow so well. The folk transported to those northern colonies are encouraged to fend for themselves and make something of the place."
"So the lords and companies make no profit from them?"
"I didn't say that. The patents are different in the north than in the south. Here the king's patent controls the soil and water. In the north it controls whose ships can carry cargoes from Britain to the colonies. So long as there are patents, there are monopolies, and so long as there are monopolies, there are profits for the lords in Britain."
"We came here from Barbados. It should be a wealthy place, and yet the folk are desperate and hungry..."
"...All caused by the plantation patents,” Solomon interrupted, "and things will stay desperate until the king changes those patents so that settlers can claim water and soil for farms. A colony this far from Britain must be self sufficient, at least in food."
"So why are you here? How will you profit from your plantation if some lord holds the patent on the sugar you grow?"
"Ahh, well first you must understand that the tobacco plantations on these islands are all failing. It is too hot and the dry season comes at the wrong time for tobacco, so one by one the plantations are switching to sugar. The switch to sugar is also failing because the English plantation managers do not understand sugar. I am a Sugar-Jew, and sugar is in my blood, so the governor has leased me this land for a shilling a year for ten years to prove that sugar can be profitable here."
The explanation made Daniel nod for now he understood why there were no stone buildings being built on this land. No one would build costly buildings on leased land. "And once it is profitable he will cancel your lease and take it for himself."
"Nay,” Solomon replied with a grin, "he will force me to sell the lease back to him as soon as I have two solid years of profit, but at a good price, else I will never tell him how it all works. That will give me the capital I need to start my own plantation."
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The Pistoleer - Slavers by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 22 - Virgins paradise in May 1641
With the Pilgrim passengers camped at the Pilgrim hall in Middle on Kitt's Island, the Swift sailed away to explore the chain of small islands between Kitt's and Puerto Rico. This not only allowed the Pilgrims a longer and well-needed rest ashore, but meant that the Swift's decks were clear should there be trouble while sailing through these poorly charted islands and towards the Spanish stronghold of Puerto Rico.
They first explored the small islands of Saint Eustatius and Saba, just north of Kitts, but the Dutch West Indies Company had already claimed them for growing sugar. From those islands they crossed open water to the Maagdeneilanden Islands and for a week they sailed amongst those small islands, while making notes and comparing them. The Maagdeneilandens were truly the vision of paradise on earth.
There were more colonies on these islands than they had expected, but these were mostly on the larger islands of Saint Thomas, Saint Johns, TerTholen, and Fat Virgin. Saint Croix they had not bothered with because there were no small islands close to it. The best established settlements were those supported by the great Dutch company in the quest of more sugar. The smaller settlements seemed to be transient villages of privateer crews waiting for the season of the Spanish treasure ships to begin.
Some of the smaller islands were places that dreams were made of. They had tall hills, which was vital for it meant there were springs of cool drinking water. The sea water was clear and warm and the fishing excellent. There was grazing land with a coarse grass for dairy cattle, or at least for goats. Coco palms had seeded themselves around the bays, but by planting more of them there would be ample for use as shade and food and building materials. Nowhere did they see any sign of any natives, never mind fierce natives.
After a week of exploring, they returned to their favourite of the small uninhabited islands, an island not shown on any of their charts. It was formed by two small hills being connected by a narrow, flat neck of land. Here they anchored on the leeward side in the bay formed by the neck. A few days ago when they had first spied it, they had named it Coop Island because on the neck there was one old hut that seemed to have been used as a chicken coop sometime in the near past.
For days they lived on that paradise island and explored every bit of it. In every way it met Daniel's requirements for a place to move his clan to. There was spring fed drinking water. There were hills that not only provided for lookouts, but their contours formed small bays, one of which made an excellent harbour against the prevailing winds, while another would serve as a storm hole. The shallower, windward bays had coral reefs which were alive with fish. Even though they did not eat the reef fish for fear of being poisoned, those fish attracted larger deep sea fish that they did catch and eat.
There was coarse grass on the hills for grazing, and enough flat land to grow kitchen crops, and a long shoreline that was lined in coco trees. There were even groves of cedar trees that could be harvested for planking for boats and staving for barrels.
Most of all, the island already felt like home. Daniel would spend hours pacing out where he would build the village, how the huts would be aligned, where the docks would be and where to dig a catchment pool for watering the animals. A few of the men rowed off in the ship's boat to explore the smaller island to the west of it, and they came back with the best news of all. There was a natural salt evapouration pond on the next island. For fishermen this was all-important, for what fishermen needed was fish, nets, storage barrels, and lots of salt to preserve the fish in the barrels.
Daniel's quest was finished. He had found an island for his clan. This might not be the island they would settle on for good, but it was an island that was good enough to settle on. If afterwards they moved to another island, it would be because they had found an even better one, but they could search for it once the entire village was living in this Coop island paradise. The clan would rename it, of course, perhaps to Wellenhay, or New Wellenhay, or even New Frisia, but that would be the clan's decision and made by vote.
Robert was thinking the same way. He could do worse than to create a settlement on an island such as this and send some of his family to secure the investment. As primitive as life would be on this island, it would be a happy life. The rising sun each morning was a joy to behold, the mornings and late afternoons were pleasant for labour, the warm shade was delicious in the heat of the day, and the prevailing wind blew the biting insects away in the night.
Even on the chilliest night, you did not need a cloak, and did not sleep cold even when sleeping on sand. The sustenance offered by the island was plentiful, simple and healthy. Fish and coconuts and roofs made of palm leaves were free for the taking. Best of all, there were no landlords or bankers to make life more expensive or complicated.
Both men were well-pleased with themselves for daring to take a small ship across the Atlantic, but finding this island had them beaming with their good fortune. With Daniel's quest complete they could now relax a little and concentrate on getting that same small ship north to the Plymouth colony to drop off their passengers, and then back across the endless mile of sea, home to England.
There was still the other side of Daniel's quest to be done. To find out what cargos from what ports would pay the way of a ship to cross the ocean; in other words, what could they buy in the New World cheap, and sell for a good profit in England?
Such were the questions Robert and Daniel put to each other as they relaxed in the shade of a coco tree, eating fresh fish that had been smoke roasted over coco husks, and drinking fresh coco water. Life was so easy on this island
. "Come on,” Daniel told Robert. "Time for your next swimming lesson."
They walked into the crystal water, the crystal warm water, with no oohing and ouching as they would have done if trying to get into the sea in Lyme. They just walked in and began to swim.
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The Pistoleer - Slavers by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 23 - Appendix - FAQ
The reference material in this Appendix is organized like an FAQ. For an overview of the politics of the era, see the Appendix of Book One 'HellBurner'. Here is a list of the questions that are answered below.
1. Where can I read about the non-fiction events and characters?
2. How can I which characters are historic and which are fictional?
3. What was a Pistoleer?
4. What was a Lateen?
5. What was Dragon's Breath?
6. Why was a wheellock pistol so special?
7. Who were the Covenanters?
8. What caused the Second Bishop's War?
9. Who were the Lords of Coal?
10. What was a patent?
11. Who were the members of the Reform Party?
12. What caused the riots in London?
13. What was Morocco like at the end of the 1630's?
14. What were the types of slaves?
15. Who began the shipping of Africans to the Americas?
16. Who had the patent on Barbados?
17. What was the political situation in the Caribbean?
18. How did English and French islands differ from Spanish ones?
1. Where can I read about the non-fiction events and characters?
