‘Five days, Nicholas. What we would have done with that before – raise a Bob’s-a-dying as would have ’em know our ship’s in port!’
‘While your silver lasts, as you’ll recall.’
‘Ah, here we have the Billy Roarers in port with a prize already in tow. The vice-admiralty court will condemn the Maid without too much ceremony, I believe, and then there’ll be cobbs for every man to celebrate it.’
He smothered a sigh, staring out of the stern windows at the glittering expanse of sea to the palm-fringed shore. ‘What I would have given for a fistful of prize money before …’
‘I do seem to recollect that you seemed to have done quite well without, as saw you in a mort of pother.’
With a lazy smile Kydd was obliged to agree, then went on, ‘But I own that being a frigate captain has its compensations, the doors to society among them. Speaking of which, I do look forward to seeing Richard again.’
Chapter 5
Renzi’s message to his brother was returned with a delighted note insisting he visit immediately, a gig being provided for his conveyance. Leaving behind the noise and smell of Kingston, Renzi and Kydd clopped along the dusty road inland, through the endless green sameness of the cane-fields, past grinding ox-wagons teetering under their load of crude sugar and plodding lines of slaves with their field tools and piccaninny followers.
Kydd found himself reflecting that Renzi’s younger brother was so different from his friend. He’d been set up as a planter by their father and had done well for himself, was established and settled with an estate and lady. And now Renzi was returning to him, after all these years, with little to show for himself.
He sympathised. The age-old conundrum: was this the price of adventure, the wider world, excitements that others could only dream about? If so, it didn’t explain Kydd, a young sailor when first in Jamaica, now returning in glory as captain of his own ship while, in the eyes of the world, his gifted friend had hardly progressed.
Kydd gazed out as they passed through a village, the gaily dressed people contrasting with their drab dwellings, but the enigma that was his closest friend wouldn’t leave him – and then a darker thought stole in.
Kydd knew that for many years Renzi had loved his sister Cecilia but felt he did not have the means to be worthy of becoming her husband. Frustrated with his long dallying, Kydd had extracted a promise from him to seek his sister’s hand the very day they arrived back in England. But as her brother, he had certain responsibilities: was he being fair to her, giving his support to her marriage to someone with no visible prospects whatsoever?
He tried to shake off the thoughts and was glad when they topped a rise and saw the Great House at the end of a winding drive, edged with the flower-entwined penguin hedge that he remembered from his earlier visit.
Richard Laughton was waiting on the veranda, thicker-set and with a harder look about him. He was wearing a broad smile, however, as he strode up to greet them.
‘Well met, brother! So very pleased you’re come. Your last letter was more’n a year ago and I’m much exercised to discover your news.’ He shook Renzi’s hand with obvious delight, then turned politely to Kydd.
‘I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, sir. You …’
‘Ah, but you have, Richard,’ Renzi said. ‘Mr Kydd, as came with me when—’
Laughton’s eyes widened in recognition. ‘No, it can’t be!’
‘It is, and now you must call him Captain Kydd, of the jolly frigate L’Aurore, or he’ll have you keelhauled, brother.’
They sat together on the veranda in cane easy-chairs. The houseboy produced sangaree and explanations were made, Laughton in frank admiration at the tale of Kydd’s rise in the world.
Renzi fiddled with his glass. ‘You do seem content with your lot, Richard. Fortune’s tide in your favour, it seems.’
‘Why, we do have our odd vexations but that should not concern you.’
‘The Trelawney Maroons?’ The last time they’d visited bands of escaped slaves living in the hills had descended to terrorise the plantations.
‘Put down, and the rascals sent to Canada long since. No, this is an agreeable existence for a gentleman, it must be said.’
He glanced up amiably at Renzi. ‘And for yourself? Is—’
‘Richard,’ he said, ‘might I ask a service of you?’
‘Of course! Say away, old man.’
‘It is that Thomas being now at an eminence, perhaps an introduction to those he will be among during his commission in the Caribbean …’
Laughton grinned. ‘I’ve no doubt that something suitable can be arranged for a handsome frigate captain, Nicholas.’
‘Thank you.’
He went on delicately, ‘And as you will, of course, attend, brother, would you be so good as to let me know your wishes regarding your, er, name? That is to say, may I now introduce you truly as my brother?’ The last time they had visited, Renzi, in the middle of his morally dictated self-sentence of five years on the lower-deck, had asked to be known only by his name-in-exile.
‘It would oblige should you continue to address me in the same way.’
‘As you wish,’ Richard replied. ‘I know you are not reconciled to Father, Nicholas, yet it pains me not to acknowledge you as kin. Can we not—’
‘If you must, perhaps as cousin.’
‘Very well. You always were a character of some complication, Nicholas.’ He looked at him steadily for a moment, then went on, ‘Mother is well but cast down by your absence. Since I’m the only one graced with the receiving of your letters I’ve seen fit to keep her in the knowledge that at least you’re still alive. Our father is in rude good health but refuses utterly to allow your name to be spoken in his presence.’
When Renzi didn’t respond, he added, ‘You’re not one for letters, Nicholas, and I’m sanguine there’s much you haven’t told us. That last, you spoke of submarine boats and a Mr Smith going on a journey, and you said I’d learn all about it in due course. Can you—’
‘Yes. Later, perhaps.’
‘Well, er, what are you doing with yourself at the moment, you and our doughty captain?’
‘I … I’m a scholar of a detached character, well advanced in an ethnical theory that requires I gather data at the first hand in different parts of the world. For this, Mr Kydd is affording me accommodation in his ship in return for my acting as his confidential secretary.’
Laughton politely heard him out then spoke flatly: ‘Nicholas. I speak to you as family. Whether you wish it or no, you are eldest and will later go on to inherit—’
‘I think not. Father has taken steps to prevent that.’
‘But—’
Renzi interrupted him, ‘I am happy with my lot.’
Laughton hesitated. ‘There are other concerns, brother.’
‘Which are?’
‘May I know if there might be, as who should say, a lady in your life?’
‘There is.’
‘Ah. Do I know the family? The north, possibly – or is it to be your London beauty?’
Renzi shot a warning glance at Kydd. ‘Neither,’ he said curtly.
‘Come, come, sir, it is of some interest to us all, a good marriage bringing families of lineage together. Have you reached a settlement with the father?’
‘I take that as impertinence, sir. This is entirely a personal matter.’
‘Nicholas, if you marry beneath yourself it’s most certainly a matter for me.’
Kydd bristled, but managed to say politely, ‘Richard, I happen to know your brother hasn’t even asked the lady.’
‘Is this so?’
‘My heart is entirely taken by the woman. I will marry no other.’
‘Then?’
‘Then … it were better we changed the subject.’ Renzi took up his glass and looked stubbornly away.
Kydd glanced at him in concern, then turned to his brother. ‘You mentioned you had your vexations, Richard. How can that be in suc
h a fine country?’
Laughton eased into a reluctant smile. ‘Since you ask it, Mr Sailorman, it’s surely our losses to privateers. Let me tell you that a ship making for the Barbados convoy carries in her hold much of the season’s hard-won yield. What you probably don’t know is that we’re financed in our operation by advances on London against that crop. If this is taken it’s a calamity impossible to contemplate, so we must insure with Lloyd’s. As the losses go up, so does the insurance premium – which, believe it or no, now stands above six per centum.’
Kydd made a sympathetic murmur.
‘And I’ll remind you that’s a cost in wartime always to be added to our operating expenses, or a sum to be subtracted from our profits, each and every time.’
Acknowledging this with a nod, Kydd interjected drily, ‘I’m no man of business, m’ friend, but even I can see that if the French are driven from the seas then they’ll not get their own crop to market, and the sugar price must surely rise handsomely. I dare to say this goes some way towards compensating for the inconvenience.’
‘You’re in the right of it, Thomas,’ chuckled Laughton. ‘But spare a thought for our other worries. For instance, here on a tropical isle we find the soil’s quickly wearied, exhausted. Without notice a field will throw up stunted, pitiable growths no good to man or beast.’
‘Is there no help for it?’
‘Yes, for those whose study it is to ’ware the signs. Guinea grass answers, sown promiscuous, on which we raise useful numbers of cattle and sheep, their manure a sovereign cure. And our new Bourbon cane strain, which—’
‘So sugar might be accounted a profitable and reliable business for you, brother?’
Renzi’s question made Laughton pause before he answered. ‘Shall we say I lose no sleep b’ nights in torment that my produce will not find a market?’
He waited while their glasses were refilled, then continued, ‘As some facts of a domestic nature will best illuminate. Take your Hannah Glasse, much cried up for her family cookery. Her receipt for seed-cake in the Spanish way demands an entire three pounds of moist sugar, while for your common marmalade it’s at the rate of one pound on every four oranges. And when the modern taste in tea scorns anything less than fourteen pounds of best refined for each pound of leaves, and with a population to be reckoned in millions, you’ll see why I rest easy.’
‘Some might say it’s all on the backs of your slaves.’
Laughton’s smile disappeared. ‘Pray what is your meaning, Nicholas? Are you to be numbered with the Abolitionists?’
‘Do not be concerned, Richard. I merely point out what I’m told is to be heard on all sides these days in London Town.’
‘Then to them I’d say the same thing. These creatures are brought from the most savage and benighted region on the planet. Here they’re exposed to a mode of living, three full meals a day and accommodation that they in their rude huts and ignorance couldn’t even dream of. They are like children and require firm structure in handling, and even educating in the notion of work in return for the necessities of life.’
‘Under the threat of the whip?’
‘Does not your child respond to a flogging if driven to it by necessity? Nicholas, I’m an enlightened owner. I rule with justice and mercy, not to say kindness. Not only do I clothe and feed them but have given over my own land to them for their growing of greenstuffs for the market – but I’d never be fool enough to believe they’re anything but savages at heart.’
‘It seems a pity that—’
Laughton’s face hardened. ‘If by this you’re saying I should free all my slaves then, by the same business logic, I face an impossible situation.’
‘Impossible?’
‘Quite. For by this action I would be utterly unable to compete with the produce of other nations that do retain labour without cost. And that applies to all of us – and then where is your government revenue stream? No, brother, accept if you please that slavery is a regrettable necessity in these modern times.’
At Renzi’s look he added, ‘Was it not your sainted William Cowper who said it best –
‘I pity them greatly, but I must be mum,
For how could we do without sugar and rum?’
‘Ha! There’s no arguing with that, Nicholas.’ Kydd laughed. ‘Let me tell you, Richard, your brother’s an odd fish at times. I do remember when—’
‘Yes. Well, no offence taken, old fellow. Now, I’ve been giving some thought to your social event …’
‘Well, gentlemen, time to earn our salt.’ Kydd looked encouragingly at his officers. ‘And in what our brothers in a sail-of-the-line would die for, an independent cruise, and should we fall in with a prize on the way, then Admiral Dacres declares he would not take it amiss.’
He was met with expressions ranging from the naked cupidity of Gilbey to the guarded interest of Curzon and the near hero-worship of Buckle, now no longer under threat of removal.
‘Our orders are plain and direct: to rid the seas of any who would prey on our trade.’
They all knew that. It was how he proposed to go about it that had their attention. L’Aurore was in prime condition now. Port Royal had gone to work on her defects so frayed lines, stretched canvas and strained timbers were things of the past. Whatever her captain decided, she would be ready.
Kydd carried on, ‘Any old Caribbee hands will know that for a frigate the regular way is to keep deep-water guard over the main passages into the Caribbean, they being choke-points for sea traffic of all nations, rather than aimless wandering about the seas, looking for distraction.
‘I’ve a different notion. If I were a privateer …’ in this company he could never admit that once he had been one ‘… I’d be looking to skulk somewhere close to a shipping lane to dart out and snap up, then make away briskly.’
He flipped open the main chart of the Caribbean and found Jamaica. ‘Here are we, and there is Hispaniola,’ he said, indicating the large island to the east. ‘Windward Passage to its west, the Mona Passage to the east. Ocean traders, of course, do use these, but as a privateer I’ve another prospect in mind. Sugar vessels on their way to Barbados to join the England convoy.’
‘Ah – because they’re sailing alone, we not having the escorts,’ Curzon grunted.
‘An’ their track always to be south o’ Hispaniola,’ added Gilbey, thoughtfully. ‘Staying north to pick up the current. In which case …’
‘Yes?’ Kydd said.
Gilbey leaned over and studied the chart. ‘Why, here’s a possibility,’ he murmured, ‘as is right handy for such.’ He indicated a large triangle of land that jutted out from the even east–west line of the south of Hispaniola.
‘How so?’
‘It puts ’em closer to the shipping track, as well provides a lee either side should the weather turn bad.’
‘My thinking too, Mr Gilbey,’ Kydd said, gratified. ‘Now, here’s the lay.’
Underneath was a larger-scale chart. He pointed to the tip of the triangle. ‘Cape Beata – and mark the island offshore. He has his lee and his anchorage both. I’d wager if there’s any of the brethren lurking, it’ll be there we’ll flush ’em out.’
‘Supposing there’s none found?’ Curzon said lightly.
‘Then we continue on to the east and Mona Passage, as if that is what we intended all along,’ grinned Kydd.
‘Purely out of interest only, and being a mort hazy about this part of the world, just what forces do the Spanish have in the island these days?’
‘Well, er, it’s a tricky business to say, Mr Clinton,’ he told his lieutenant of marines, ‘as Hispaniola is in the character of two countries – St Domingue to the west under the French and Santo Domingo to the east under the Spanish. But there’s been a slave revolt and – well, I believe we’ll beg Mr Renzi to tell us the rest.’
After politely summoning him, Kydd asked formally, ‘Mr Renzi, would you be so good as to tell us your appreciation of the situation obtaining in Hisp
aniola at present?’
His friend paused, marshalling his thoughts. ‘Not an easy task, sir, and one only explicable with a little history. The French colonised the western third of the island a century or more ago, the eastern two-thirds being Spanish since the days of Columbus. In 1795 the Spanish, at war with ourselves, saw it as impossible to continue to govern and yielded up the whole island to the French.’
‘So it’s French.’
‘Not so easily answered. The slaves of the French heard of their revolution with liberté, égalité, fraternité for all, assumed it applied to them and, duly disappointed, rose in rebellion. They had a masterly general, one Toussaint L’Ouverture, who remarkably prevailed and made treaty with the authorities to abolish slavery in return for the former slaves remaining loyal to France. This was granted. When Napoleon Bonaparte came to power he first agreed to this, but then changed his mind and sent General Leclerc to restore slavery. Not Boney’s most intelligent plan, I’m persuaded. L’Ouverture fought Leclerc to a standstill, even with France free to pour in reinforcements while we were at peace between the wars. So the French turned to treachery, offering to parlay, then kidnapped L’Ouverture and took him to France where he died in chains. With their great enemy removed, did they then triumph? Not at all. This betrayal inflamed the slaves beyond reason and under a singularly brutal leader, Dessalines, they flung themselves into as savage a war as any to be seen in Christendom. The burning alive of prisoners in village squares was the least of it, bestial conduct on both sides the rule.
‘The result – stark catastrophe for the French, who in their efforts to bring back slavery lost fifty thousand soldiers and no fewer than eighteen generals, a far worse beating than ever we’ve been able to achieve over them.’
‘That’s all very well, Renzi,’ Gilbey said, with irritation. ‘We’ve heard most of that. What we want t’ know is who rules now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then—’
‘The French were ejected from the whole of Hispaniola. Dessalines has proclaimed himself Emperor Jacques the First, over a new-conjured nation he calls Haiti, and inaugurated his rule with a general slaughter of all white settlers. Bonaparte has vowed not to rest until it’s recovered for his empire, while Spain makes no secret of its desire to take back their eastern realm. Gentlemen, given this clash of claims, I would declare that the sovereignty of this island remains … unclear.’
Caribbee Page 9
