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Pistoleer: Pirates

Page 28

by Smith, Skye


  "Anso,” Daniel called out the moment they reached the ships, "please stay here with the Two. A cargo of Genever will arrive within the hour. Robert and I are taking the Three to Breda." At Anso's look of curiosity, he continued. "The gunsmiths of Breda have warehouses filled with captured Spanish muskets. The Dutch refuse to buy them because they were not designed for use in wetlands, so the prices have dropped. We are off to have a look at them."

  * * * * *

  This delta region of the great Rhine river around Rotterdam was a tangled web of waterways, but to reach Breda from Rotterdam was quite easy. They backtracked down Rotterdam’s tributary to the main River Meuse and then turned south and followed it until they reached the River Bergse Meuse, and then followed it upstream until they reached the canal that led to Breda.

  The distance was perhaps fifty miles by ship, and they would have been to Breda before dark except for having to constantly wait for all the canal bridges to be lifted or swung out of the way. Instead they reached Breda well after dark, so there was nothing more to do but roll out the sleeping mats in the shelter of the one long cabin of the Freisburn Three.

  In the morning the two friends went in search of muskets. Not only were the Breda gunsmiths willing to sell off most of their Spanish musket stock, but they were willing to send some of their apprentices to London with the muskets to clean, fix, and test them before they were used. Blake and Daniel could not believe their luck. What they had expected to take months to organize was handed to them on a plate. All they need do is pay for them at this end, get them to England, and collect their profit on the other end.

  The muskets themselves were older Spanish matchlocks, which used a slow-match-cord to fire the flash powder rather than a flint. Since neither the flash-pan nor the slow-match were protected from the weather, this design had cost the Spanish many battles in the wetlands of the Netherlands. The bore of the wrought iron barrels was a standard 16 lead balls to the pound, which meant they would shoot balls of 18 to the pound.

  All of the barrels had been shortened by ten inches from the original four and a half feet, and by the looks of the cuts this had been done in the field by the musketeers themselves, or by a local farrier, for no gunsmith would have ever done such a poor job of it. It was normal for seasoned musketeers to shorten the standard Spanish barrel so that they would load faster and foul less, and so that they needn't carry the forquette 'musket rest' to balance the weight of the barrel on when aiming.

  That the deal had come together so quickly led to the problem of how to pay for the muskets. The clan's treasury had been completely used up by this months purchase of five ships, and today's purchase of a shipload of Genever. They needed coin, a lot of coin, and of course the famous Dutch bankers would never loan coin to any hard working men who actually needed it.

  One of the gunsmiths agreed to hold Daniel's ornately tooled double barreled dragon as surety against a sampling of twenty of the best muskets, with the understanding that payment for them, and an order for many more would be forthcoming within two weeks. Daniel hated to leave the dragon with the gunsmith as it had originally belonged to the King of Sweden, but what choice did he have.

  Blake stayed with the gunsmiths to begin the task of sorting through the stacks of old muskets, while Daniel, the Three, and the twenty samples, sailed as quickly as they could back to Rotterdam. Once there they distributed the load of Genever between the two ships before setting sail back down the river to the sea and then across the sea towards London.

  Before leaving the relative calm of the Dutch coast, they rafted the ships in preparation for the night, and thus had a pleasant enough crossing despite the famously choppy waves caused by the currents of wind and water coming out of the Straights of Dover and meeting the shallow sea that stretched between the Rhine and the Thames. In the early hours, Daniel changed course slightly to the south because he didn't want to risk waking up in sight of the Navy's patrol ships which used Harwich Harbour as a base.

  As luck would have it, first light found them more or less surrounded by Navy frigates from the Thames squadron. Not that the frigates were paying them any attention, but it was an unnerving sight for a crew carrying caskets of Genever and twenty Spanish muskets. Before they un-rafted the ships, Anso made the point that if one of the ships were to be hauled over by the navy, it should be his, because he wasn't carrying any muskets.

  Perhaps if they had stayed rafted and had drifted into the Thames Estuary looking like rafted fishing boats they would have been ignored. Since instead they separated and raised their Bermuda rigs and began moving at a fair clip towards the estuary, the two frigates between them and the Thames took notice, and changed to an intercept course. The race was on.

  Within a half an hour, it must have been obvious to everyone on the frigates that there was no way that they could block these two agile ships, for they gave up the chase. Daniel could imagine the entry in the naval logs. 'Two small ships of less than fifty feet, with a new type of lateen sail were allowed to enter the Thames Estuary because they flew English colors.'

  Unfortunately the tax collectors for the Port of London would not give up so easily, so the two ships each dropped an anchor to hold their place against the current of the Thames until three cargo fluyts sailed into the river. The great cargo fluyts carried no oars nor oarsmen and so would contract one of the oar-tugs to tow them up the Thames to the port. Once all three fluyts were under tow they, the tugs, and the tow lines created a formidable barrier that moved slowly up the center of the Thames.

  By first sailing on one side of the moving barrier, and then on the other, depending on the location of tax boat docks, the two Bermudans made it all the way to the White Tower without being boarded. Once tied up at Queenhithe quay, a 'little bite', a bribe into the right pocket kept the quay's manifest clerk at a distance until carts were organized and the cargo carried to one of Warwick's warehouses, or to be exact, to the Providence Company warehouse.

  The earl was sent for immediately, and he had the good sense to arrive not only bearing a purse of gold, but with the fair Teesa on his arm and looking all the world like a fine lady rather than a huntress. While Teesa was showing how well she could curtsey to the crew who had guarded the cart all the way from the quay, Warwick pulled Daniel aside and told him the latest news.

  "The Irish rebels tried to capture Dublin castle. Their plan was to claim they were sent by the king to relieve the garrison, and in the confusion take the gate and then the walls and then the keep. A turncoat spy played the rat, so the rebel plan failed."

  "What was Charlie's reaction?"

  "Who knows. He's still in Edinburgh making peace after his own plot against the Scottish parliament was ratted out. I only know the reaction here in London. Parliament has been recalled from recess. Now I need those muskets more than ever. How many did you bring?"

  "Twenty," Daniel said, but he knew that Warwick would not be pleased with the small number, so he hurried to explain, "They are samples only. Spanish matchlock muskets that the Dutch shun because the flash-pan is not water tight. I didn't want to commit to hundreds more without your approval."

  "So they are flawed, then."

  "If you wanted them for use on a quagmire of a battlefield, yes. If you want them for use to protect London, not at all. But wait, there's more. The gunsmiths I am dealing with realize that a lot of the muskets will have been neglected and abused, so they are willing to send their apprentices over with them. You provide the workshops and the apprentices will get them working like new."

  "Danny you are a wonder. This comes very close to my fondest hopes when I set you this task ... and so quickly." Warwick pulled a heavy purse out from under his cloak and handed it to Daniel. "That is all Spanish gold eights. Heft it and tell me if you need more."

  Daniel tested the weight, but did not take the purse from the earl. "You leap ahead of yourself, sire. First have your own men inspect the sample muskets, while you and I sample my shipment of Genever."
r />   "Drop the sire nonsense, matey. All my business partners call me Rob. My privateer mates used to call me Robfat, but don't you breathe a word of that to anyone. I was a plump youth." Warwick turned and began yelling orders to his lifeguard and to two others who must have been officers in the local Trained Band, though they looked more like mercers or cloth merchants.

  Teesa was walking slowly towards him, and Daniel spread his arms wide so she could run into them. She didn't. Instead she kept her distance and warned him, "Oh no you don't. You keep your distance with that filthy tunic. This cloak alone is worth all the sails on your ship."

  "Is he treating you well?"

  "You mean has he ravaged me yet. No, and yes he is treating me well. More than well. I think that my company makes him a happier and therefore a better man. I think he expected that, which is why he wanted me by his side."

  "Has Susannah arrived yet?"

  "Tomorrow,” she replied.

  "Do you still remember the address near Saint Paul’s?"

  "Alice at the Smythes goldsmith shop on Cheapsides."

  "Flee to there sooner rather than later, if there is trouble brewing."

  "There won't be any trouble,” she said sweetly with a knowing smile.

  "Is Britta in London yet?"

  Teesa's smile disappeared immediately. "No, she mustn't. She'll ruin everything. You didn't tell her where to find me did you?"

  "She was there when I told your mother,” he said apologetically.

  "Ahh, I want to scream. I take it all back. If SHE comes to London there will be trouble."

  "Afraid that your aging knight will replace you with your sister, are you?"

  "Why should this man be any different from all the rest. I am a gangly goose compared to her swan." Tears welled up in Teesa's turquoise eyes.

  "Teesa, that was then, this is now. Look at you, pampered and pretty in your fine clothes and walking about with the confidence of a fine lady. Britta will come to town in her alehouse dress looking like a Fen's milk maid. Pleasing to look at but nothing like you. I want you to promise me that if she does come to London that you will look out for her and make sure she comes to no harm."

  "Haven't I always?" she sucked up her tears with the honk of a goose and then mumbled, "Teesa the huntress, protecting her lovely sister with bow and knife."

  With a dirty but gentle finger, Daniel wiped a dark tear sideways off her cheek. It was only then he realized that she had a dark dye on her eyelashes and her eyebrows, and it was running with the tears. "That is exactly why Warw... Rob will ignore Britta. She is a girly girl. He was drawn to you because you are a boyish girl.

  You are far more than just another coveted ornament to sit beside him at boring dinners with politicians. He can have women like that by the dozen. You are special because in one person he has both a son and daughter. An ornament who can hunt and fish and sail. Has he seen you ride a horse yet?"

  "Of course not,” she shrugged, "this is London. We travel by coach."

  "Well one day ask him to teach you to ride, and then show him that trick where you gallop along while standing on the saddle ... no hands."

  "But that would be showing off."

  "Exactly, and that why he likes you near him, to show you off. He will ignore Britta, so it will be up to you to make sure she has a wonderful time in London before you send her home."

  Her smile was back. It warmed him and seemed to light up his life. He envied Warwick. His political friends would be closing in on London as they spoke. Over the winter, Warwick would be the envy of all of them for her company.

  At that moment, Warwick arrived back with them and held out the purse of gold again. "My men agree with you. Not a weapon they would take hunting in the marshes of Essex but much much better than nothing when we have an out of control idiot on the throne. Now tell me, is this gold enough for you to bring us more muskets, and the apprentices."

  "No. I will need double that for my next trip to Holland, and that much again by November."

  Warwick motioned to the lifeguard who was standing next to his unadorned black coach. The man had one hand resting on a pistol butt. He turned and reached into the coach and then marched towards them with something heavy held under his cloak. Once upon them he held out an even bigger purse to Warwick, who nodded it to towards Daniel.

  "Nay,” Daniel refused both purses. He didn't fancy his chances of getting them all the way back to the ships through some of the worst streets in the city. "Have your coach and your lifeguards deliver the purses directly to my ships at Queenhithe where we can properly guard them."

  "Of course,” Warwick replied, "and after the gold is delivered, will you come to my house for some dinner?"

  "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to beat the news of the Irish rebellion to Holland else my gunsmith friends will raise their prices." He had the hardest time keeping a serious face, for Robfat Rich was paying six times his cost for these muskets. Good profits, as always, were about what and who you knew. The gunsmiths were rubbing their hands in glee at unloading their unwanted muskets at any price, while Warwick was rubbing his hands at getting so many guns at below the London price of fifteen shillings each.

  "And the Genever?" Warwick asked. To his taste it wasn't fine Genever, gentleman's Genever, but it was certainly better than most of the London ale houses served up.

  "Use it to encourage London's apprentices to join your Trained Bands." Daniel said and watched Warwick’s smile open into a wide grin. Anyone would think that he'd just been given the keys to the city, and then it occurred to Daniel ... that was exactly what had just happened here.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Pistoleer - Pirates by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14

  Chapter 19 - Gold for gunsmiths in Breda in November 1641

  Before leaving London, Daniel sent a letter by Post Coach to The George in Cambridge, to be passed on to Cleff in Wellenhay. As soon as the next two ships were refitted, Cleff was to load them with eels and geese and raft them across to Holland and wait for them in Rotterdam. He didn't expect to see Cleff for another week, and in that time the Two and the Three would have made another crossing to London.

  It was with great relief that once back in Breda Daniel regained his fancy dragon, for he felt naked without it. Having a blinding load in one barrel and a killing load in the other was a very useful combination. To his surprise and delight, the dragon had been cleaned and oiled and some nicks on the stock had been mended. His delight faded when he realized that the gunsmith had done this either to make it ready to sell, or while making templates so he could duplicate it.

  The gunsmiths of Breda were joyous at the size of the purse that Daniel brought to them. Blake was relieved to see the purse, for he owed wages to the apprentices who had been helping him. The apprentices had been selecting the best of the muskets from the rusting stacks, and then sanding off rust spots, boring old powder out of the barrels, oiling them, and mating them to ramrods, and cleaning ends. On most they had used their files to even the shape of muzzles that had been cut shorter in the field.

  "Come and look at this one,” Blake called to Daniel, who was busy organizing the crew to help the apprentices. "Now we know why they cut off the barrels."

  With a shake of his head Daniel replied, "We don't want it. It still has the full four and a half foot barrel, so it must have been thrown away as a jinxed gun."

  "I know it still has the full length barrel. I meant you to look inside the barrel."

  By angling it into the sunlight, Daniel could look down the filthy barrel. Since these muskets were bored for larger balls than they actually shot, the ball would bounce along the barrel for its full length and usually the aim would be tainted by the direction of the last bounce. The last six inches of this barrel had twisting grooves, rifling, meant to spin the ball in hopes of greater accuracy and range.

  "Aye, typical. The rifling grooves have made the barrel choke up faster. I'm surprised this one didn't blow the
face off its musketeer. I suppose the makers thought that if they only rifled the end of the barrel it would still spin the ball, but would be easier to keep clean. Like you say, it explains why the musketeers cut the end off ... to get rid of the rifling."

  "Do you know what I think,” Blake said. "I think that these guns were originally built as hunting rifles. On a hunt you have time enough to properly clean the barrel after each shot, so you can use closer fitting balls."

  "Well have an apprentice clean it up, and we'll try her out. Anything that helps provide your next meal can't be all bad." They exchanged knowing nods. As mounted Dutch Pistoleers they had been equipped with short barrel carbines because muskets were too long and clumsy to aim from the saddle. Because the carbine barrels were so short, they had been rifled to increase their aimed range. Their carbines were easier to keep clean than muskets so they could use closer fitting balls, which meant that the rifling would spin the ball. Though their carbines were two feet shorter than a musket they had the same aimed range.

  This was important because Pistoleers were mounted infantry whose role changed as the battle changed. They could see duty as couriers, light cavalry, fast moving infantry reserves, or skirmishers. When they had ridden as skirmishers, more than a few Spanish officers had fallen to balls from their rifled carbines. Correctly loaded, this hunting rifle should have a much longer aimed range than their carbines.

  * * * * *

  The ships Freisburn Two and Three returned to London with less Genever but many more muskets, plus two master gunsmiths who had once lived in Southwark, and six apprentices, all of whom could put basic English phrases together. They delivered the cargo to the same company warehouse, but the warehouse had changed.

  For one thing, there was an armed guard inside the building. For another thing, a huge workshop had been built in one corner complete with benches, tables, forges, and tools. True it had more the look of a smithy than a gunsmithy, but the masters and the apprentices would soon correct that. It was with great relief that the crews delivered such an incriminating cargo at the warehouse for now they could relax. For Daniel however there was still one critical task left to do before returning to Breda. Collect more pieces of eight from the earl.

 

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