The Time Pirate

by Ted Bell

  Not a few heads snapped around at the sight of the famous Marquis making his way aft to the admiral’s cabin. Many saluted; some even cheered and clapped their hands. It was clear to Nick that Lafayette had enjoyed much fame in France before escaping to America and that word of his successes under Washington had spread throughout the French Imperial Navy.

  “It’s a hero’s welcome, sir,” Nick whispered to Lafayette.

  “I’ve sailed with many of these men. I’ve enjoyed cordial relations with most of them, that’s all. Don’t be fooled by a smiling crew. Admiral de Grasse is very close to the king. If he shares the monarch’s current dis pleasure with me, this will be a most unpleasant encounter.”

  “I think the charts might well keep us out of the brig, sir. We have, after all, come to his rescue.”

  “Let us hope you are right.”

  The two new arrivals followed their naval escorts down a dark, narrow staircase, lit only by the flickering oil lamps mounted on either side. A private companionway led to the single cabin at the stern. A few moments later they were standing outside Admiral de Grasse’s door.

  One of the two escorts rapped discreetly, and the door was swung open by one of the admiral’s Imperial Marine orderlies. Beyond lay the richly furnished quarters of the Comte de Grasse. He was deep in conversation with Lieutenant Valois. Upon seeing Lafayette, he rose from his desk and, much to Nick’s relief, turned to the young Marquis with a broad smile.

  De Grasse was a giant of a man, taller even than Washington, Nick saw, heavyset and extremely handsome. The smile still on his face, he addressed the Marquis. “Nothing in my long life has given me such pleasure as the joyous news that you were aboard the Ville de Paris, Monsieur le Marquis.”

  Lafayette bowed deeply and whispered to Nick, “No brig for us tonight, lad.”

  Lafayette replied, “Your successes and valor at sea have long brought your name to my ears, Admiral. I am honored to meet you, sir. This young fellow is my aide-de-camp, Master Nicholas McIver.”

  “A great honor, Admiral,” Nick said.

  “Come sit, won’t you?” De Grasse said, pulling out a chair for Lafayette. There were eight chairs at the round table set with fine linen, crystal, and silver. It was set, Nick knew, for the ship’s officers who traditionally dined with their commanding officer most evenings. At least, that was the British Royal Navy way.

  With a wave of the Admiral’s hand, two orderlies quickly cleared the table. Lafayette took his seat, pointing at the one to his right for Nick, and then de Grasse sat in his oversized straight-backed chair. Valois took the chair next to the Admiral.

  “Rum?” de Grasse asked, as a steward approached and filled his silver beaker.

  “Thank you, no,” the Marquis said, “perhaps just some hot tea for Nicholas and me?”

  The steward nodded and said, “Tout de suite, Your Excellency.”

  “So, General Lafayette, to what happy fortune do I owe this great honor? I understand you have been on the island attending to some personal affairs?”

  “Mais oui. My family maintains a banana plantation in the mountains above Cap-François. When word reached me that your flotilla had arrived in the harbor, I determined immediately to have a word with you. The timing is most propitious, sir.”

  “Whatever do you mean, sir?”

  “I am desperate to return to Washington’s side at Yorktown, where our own French troops and the Americans have Lord Cornwallis under siege. I know that you are aware of this, as I have been made privy to your correspondence with General Washington and General de Rochambeau.”

  “I know you’ve become indispensable to the great American. I am surprised you are not at his side even now.”

  “Ah, yes. Unfortunately, sir, the swift frigate meant to return me posthaste to Virginia was lost, with all hands save one, in a storm off the coast of Saint Domingue. My aide here was the sole survivor. Young McIver somehow managed to swim ashore. He is just arrived here in Cap-François with urgent communications from General Washington. Unless I am very much mistaken, you intend to sail for America? The Chesapeake Bay?”

  “I do, indeed. On the morrow, in fact. I have twenty-eight ships of the line and four frigates, manned by fifteen thousand sailors. We raise anchor at dawn to catch the morning tide. We bring siege guns, powder, and 2.5 million livres, generously donated by the women of Havana, sympathetic to our cause. In addition, we carry two thousand troops, which shall be entirely at General Washington’s disposal.”

  “General Washington is deeply appreciative of your every effort and most anxiously awaiting your arrival. And my own arrival as well, I might add, as he pointed out in a dispatch that arrived with my young aide.”

  “I understand Washington’s anxiety. It has become a race against time, as you well know, sir. It is my intent to arrive off Virginia prior to Admiral Graves and the British Navy; Graves will soon sail down from New York to the Chesapeake. Only my timely arrival at that location first can prevent Cornwallis from escaping. If I am successful, and the wind and the heavens cooperate, I shall arrive in the Chesapeake Bay three weeks hence.”

  “Have you space for two additional passengers? We eat little and drink less.”

  “I would be honored to have you aboard, Your Excellency. Nothing should give me greater pleasure than time spent in the company of the great hero of our Franco-American war against King George’s regulars!”

  The tea arrived on a silver salver and was served with much ceremony. When the steward had retreated, Lafayette said, “Admiral, I wonder if we might speak in private for a few moments. I have some rather urgent news to deliver.”

  “Of course,” he said, and, turning to Valois, “Lieutenant, will you excuse us? See that the sentries admit no one.” Valois saluted and was gone in an instant.

  Admiral de Grass sipped his rum, leaned forward, and said, “Urgent news?”

  “Indeed,” Lafayette replied. “My young aide here was enlisted by Washington as one of a number of spies we have operating inside Lord Cornwallis’s fortifications on the York River. As he was formerly a Continental drummer boy, he was dressed as a British drummer. Under cover of darkness, and with his very life at stake, he managed to slip in and out of Cornwallis’s headquarters with some vitally important information. This is intelligence of the gravest importance. And it concerns you, Admiral de Grasse.”

  “Me? How, in heaven’s name?”

  “Nicholas, please show the admiral the purloined charts.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nick replied, and pulling the leather tube from inside one leg of his trousers, he began removing Blood’s charts and secret orders, handing them to Lafayette. The Marquis held the tightly rolled documents a moment, making sure he had the Admiral’s undivided attention.

  Lafayette began quietly. “Admiral, thanks to young Nicholas here, we have evidence of a plot to ambush your fleet en route to the Colony of Virginia.”

  “An ambush?”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  “It’s that blasted Englishman, isn’t it? Baron Rodney. Ever since Admiral George Romney was appointed British Commander-in-Chief of the Leeward Islands, he’s been dogging my every move! What is the arrogant scoundrel up to now? By heaven, I’ll make him wish he’d ambushed someone else!”

  This emotional outburst seemed to have taken the Admiral’s breath away, and he sat back, regaining his composure.

  “With respect, it is not Romney and the British Royal Navy that lies in wait, sir.”

  “Who, then?”

  “Pirates.”

  “Pirates? This mighty fleet has no fear of pirates, sir. I’ve a massive number of warships under sail, as you see. We carry five thousand marines. I’ll make short shrift of these rogues, have no doubt of that!”

  “Under normal circumstances, I should have no doubts, Admiral. But these are not normal circumstances. Captain William Blood, of whom you may have heard, has assembled the greatest pirate armada the world has ever seen. I fear, even at your strength, you
will be greatly outnumbered, sir.”

  “It is frequently not the number of ships in a battle that spell the difference but a certain stiffness of spine, a keenness of eye, and the well-seasoned brain inside a commander’s skull. I’ve heard tell of this notorious Blood and his exploits. I’ve no fear of him, I assure you.”

  “I wholly concur, sir. But in this case, the numbers will come into play. How many warships in your flotilla, Admiral?”

  “As I say, I boast twenty-eight ships of the line, sir,” he said proudly. “And four supporting frigates. Why, my flagship alone, the Ville de Paris, carries one hundred eighteen cannon and a crew of nine hundred forty.”

  “An insufficient force to go against Blood, I fear.”

  “What? Insufficient you say? How many ships has he, this pirate?”

  “At least one hundred, and growing daily, sir.”

  “One hundred! You cannot possibly be serious!”

  “I’m afraid I am, sir. Young Nick here was an eyewitness to the assembly of the pirate armada at Port Royal.”

  “You were at Port Royal as well?” the Admiral said to Nick, mystified. “You certainly seem to pop up everywhere, lad. How much does the Marquis pay you? Perhaps you fancy a life at sea.”

  Lafayette smiled. “He was there, Admiral, and saw the Armada. I will vouchsafe the truth of his account.”

  The admiral looked dumbstruck.

  “Good heavens, outnumbered four to one, we’d be decimated,” he finally managed. “All is lost, I fear.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “But surely we’ve no chance against such numbers. If we but knew when or, more importantly, where this villain intends to strike, perhaps I could see some way, but, as it is, I cannot jeopardize my—”

  “Ah, but we know both, sir. Precisely when and precisely where Blood lies in wait. With absolute certainty. Please take a look at this chart, most fortuitously stolen from under Cornwallis’s prominent nose by my new hero here.”

  Nick found himself blushing a bright pink as the Marquis spread the chart out on the Admiral’s table and used his fore-finger to point out important locations.

  “Have a look, Admiral. You will see that the pirate armada will be lying in wait here, just to the northeast of New Providence Island in the Bahamas. And here, in heavy red ink, is the course Blood believes your fleet intends to sail. Northeast along the northern coastline of Cuba, steering northward just here to catch the Gulf Stream, up through the straits of Florida just west of New Providence Island, and proceeding up the American coast to the Chesapeake Bay. Is that your intention?”

  “It is. It’s the only possible route. Of course, Blood would assume that.”

  “This Black Cross, sir, just to the northeast of Nassau Town on New Providence is exactly where the pirate armada will be on station. He will pounce as soon as you are in the straits, just before you clear New Providence Island.”

  The plainly shocked Admiral shook his head and looked at Nick. “You swear you saw this fleet? With your own eyes? One hundred armed pirate ships?”

  “I did, sir. At Port Royal, Jamaica.”

  “And this handwriting. You know it to be Blood’s?”

  “I do, sir.”

  “How do you come by that knowledge?”

  “He sent me a letter once, sir.”

  “A letter?”

  “A ransom note. He’d kidnapped my dog.”

  “Kidnapped your dog?”

  “Yes, sir. His name is Jip.”

  The admiral put his head in his hands. “So much at stake,” he said, “So much to lose. This will be the bitterest of disappointments to our friend, General Washington.”

  The Marquis de Lafayette put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it need not be, Admiral de Grasse.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “It seems young Master McIver here has conceived of a plan.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” de Grasse said, a hint of a smile in his eyes.

  “If there’s but one thing I can say about my young aide-de-camp, it’s that he is full of surprises,” Lafayette said, laughing.

  And so Nick outlined the audacious plan he’d spent many long hours perfecting. He’d spent his whole childhood studying and re-creating all the great naval battles with his little fleets of wooden ships. Now all that knowledge, he dearly hoped, was about to pay off.

  Once de Grasse had absorbed the details of the plan and expressed his support for the action, Lafayette stood, clasped hands behind his back. His face had assumed a grave demeanor. “Admiral, there is one other matter I must discuss with you, one of the utmost importance.”

  “Mais certainement.”

  “I must insist that our presence aboard your flagship be treated as a matter of utmost secrecy. It is, I would say, a military secret of extraordinary importance to the allies. The entire crew must be sworn to silence upon penalty of death. No one, officers or crew, should ever speak of my involvement in this affair. Nor that of my aide.”

  “Granted. No one understands the need for secrecy in times of war more than I. But surely General Washington knows of this?”

  “He does not, sir. And for reasons I am not at liberty to discuss, he must never learn of it.”

  “Very well. I give you my word, General Lafayette.”

  “It is all I require, sir,” said Lafayette, bowing from the waist.

  “Will you and young Nicholas join me here for dinner this evening? You’ll find my officers’ company most amusing.”

  “We should be delighted, Admiral.”

  42

  “HOIST THE JOLLY ROGER!”

  Land ho!” cried the maintop watch from his crow’s nest high above the decks of the Ville de Paris as New Providence Island hove into view. The call from the top of the mainmast was quickly relayed to Admiral de Grasse and the officers standing on the quarterdeck aft of the helm. The Marquis de Lafayette and his young aide stood leaning against the binnacle, discussing the finer points of the plan of battle. Lafayette’s suggestions were all good ones and added mightily to Nick’s confidence in the proposed strategy.

  De Grasse lifted a spyglass to his eye and surveyed the coastline. “No sign of sail,” he said calmly. “Chance favors us so far.”

  They’d been at sea for four days since departing CapFrançois. The winds had been favorable as they sailed northwest sometimes hugging the coast of Cuba, sometimes skirting the thousands of cays and islands of the Bahamas archipelago. They’d reached the southern tip of New Providence a full half day ahead of schedule. This boded well.

  “Hoist a signal to all ships of the line,” de Grasse suddenly called out, “Strike colors!”

  “Aye-aye, sir!” Lieutenant Valois said, and ordered the bosun’s mate to hoist the appropriate signal flag. Upon seeing it, every captain in the entire fleet of twenty-eight French warships would immediately lower the pure white ensign flag of France.

  Nick barely suppressed a smile. His heart was pounding with excitement as he saw the first steps of his plan being executed. It was one of those rare moments he lived and breathed for.

  The sun was settling on the western horizon, sending red-gold rays streaking across the white-laced wavetops. The sharp tang of briny sea air filled Nick’s lungs with the purest joy. The acres of billowing white sail overhead delighted his eyes, filling them with wonder, and touched his heart with the thrill of a boyhood dream come true. He was aboard a great ship once more, plowing through heaving blue seas, sailing into battle.

  He was aboard the Ville de Paris, the greatest warship on earth. He could see the green smudge on the horizon that would be New Providence Island. The French fleet was rapidly closing in on the enemy, and the mood aboard the Ville de Paris was one of eagerness for battle, the roar of cannon, and the smell of black powder. You could see it in the face of every crewman.

  Especially the gun crews and the young “powder monkeys,” boys who tirelessly ferried black powder up from below to keep the one hundred or more
cannons roaring in the heat of battle. Even a grievous wound or the loss of a limb would not stop these youngest of warriors. They were notoriously fearless. He’d met just such a boy, a boy named Martyn Hornby, sailing aboard the Merlin in the year 1805. Hornby was just his age, and a braver soul he’d never known.

  “Hard a’lee!” de Grasse said to his helmsman.

  “Hard a’lee, aye!” The man put the great wheel hard over, and the massive warship heeled slightly as she began to carve a turn to port. High in the rigging, the reef-trimmers scrambled to trim their sails for the new course. All were caught by surprise, thinking the ship would set a course nor’west of New Providence to catch the Gulf Stream. They’d done so countless times before. Why go east of the island now?

  The French fleet was outnumbered at the very least four to one by Blood’s pirate armada. Even the most brilliant naval warrior would be crushed by those overwhelming odds. So, Nick had thought, instead of sailing with the Gulf Stream up the western coast of New Providence, as Blood expected, the French fleet would now sail up the eastern coast of the island.

  This strategy of Nick’s, as he well knew, was not without problems. Time was of the essence, and this eastern passage would be far slower, wreaking no benefit from the seven knots the northerly flowing Gulf Stream provided. But this new route would give Washington’s French allies the one element their very survival depended upon: Surprise.

  “Hoist the Jolie Rouge! De Grasse said. “Signal all ships of the line likewise!”

  Nick watched the infamous skull and crossbones, the Jolly Roger, rising swiftly on a halyard to the very top of the mainmast. All hands looked upward and cheered at the pirate flag fluttering high above in the evening breeze This ruse had been the Marquis de Lafayette’s idea. Any of Blood’s masthead lookouts, upon spying the infamous pirate flag, would think the fleet approaching were merely stragglers, pirate ships sailing at the last minute to join the Brethren of Blood’s massive armada.