"You make it sound too easy by half." She leaned against him, wishing she could fully share his confidence. "But if we do manage to take the fort, what about Villa de la Vega?""The town'll have to surrender, sooner or later. They'll have no harbor. And this island can't survive without one."She sighed and glanced back toward the shore. In the moonlight the blue mountains of Jamaica towered silently above the bay. Would those mountains some day stand for freedom in the Caribbean, the way Tortuga once did . . . ?She sensed Winston's body tense and glanced up. He was gazing across the bay toward the shore, where a dim light had suddenly appeared. Then another, and another."Katy, I've waited a long, long time for this. Thinking about it, planning it. All along I always figured I'd be doing it alone. But your being here . . ." He seemed to lose the words as he held her against him. "Tonight we're about to do something, together, that'll change the Americas forever."The oars bit into the swell and the dark waters of the bay slapped against the bark-covered prow, an ancient cadence he remembered from that long voyage north, ten years past. Where had all the years gone?Behind him was a line of dugouts, a deadly procession of armed, grim-faced seamen. All men of Tortuga, not one among them still welcome in any English, French, or Dutch settlement.Was it possible to start over with men like these? A new nation?"Mira," Vargas whispered over the rhythm of the oars. His dark eyes were glistening as he pointed toward the entry to the harbor, a wide strait that lay between the Point of the Cayo de Carena and the mainland. Around them the light surf sparkled in the moonlight. "Is not thispuertothe finest in all the Caribbean?" He smiled back at Winston, showing a row of tobacco-stained teeth. "No storm reaches here. The smallest craft can anchor safely, even in ahuracan. ""It's just like I figured. So the spot to situate our cannon really is right there on the Point. Do that and nobody could ever get into the bay."Vargas laughed. "Si, that is true. If they had guns here, we could never get past. But Jamaica is a poor island. The Passage Fort over on the river has always been able to slow an assault long enough for them to empty the town. Then their women and children are safe. What else do they have worth stealing?""Hugh, is this the location you were talking to John about?" Katherine was studying the wide and sandy Point."The very place. That's why I had him stay with theDefianceand keep some of the lads.""I hope he can do it.""He'll wait till sun-up, till after we take the fort. But this cay is the place to be, mark it.""You are right, senor," Vargas continued as they steered on around the Point. "I have often wondered myself why there was no port city out here. Perhaps it is because this island has nothing but stupidagricultores. "Their tiny armada of dugouts glided quickly across the strait, then hugged the shore, headed toward the mouth of the Rio Cobre. Now they were directly under thevigia.As they rowed past, five figures suddenly emerged from the trees and began wading toward them. Winston immediately signaled the dugouts to put in.Atiba was grinning as he hoisted himself over the side. "It was simple." He settled among the seamen. "There were only two whoreson Spaniards.""Where's Serina?" Katherine scanned the empty shoreline. "Did anything happen?""When a woman is allowed to sit in council with warriors, there are always damnable complications." Atiba reached and helped one of the English seamen in. "She would not have us act as men and kill the whoresons both. So she is still up there on the mountain, holding a musket.""You're not a better man if you murder their militia." Katherine scowled at him. "After you take a place, you only need hold it.""That is the weak way of a woman, senhora." He glanced toward the hill as again their oars flashed in the moonlight. "It is not the warrior way."Winston grimaced, but said nothing, knowing the killing could be far from over.In only minutes they had skirted the bay and were approaching the river mouth. As their dugouts veered into the Rio Cobre, the whitecaps gave way to placid ripples. The tide had just begun running out, and the surface of the water was flawless, reflecting back the half-moon. Now they were surrounded by palms, and beyond, dense forests. Since the rainy season was past, the river itself had grown shallow, with wide sand bars to navigate. But a quarter mile farther and they would be beneath the fort."Jamaica, at last." Winston grinned and dipped a hand into the cool river.Katherine gazed up at the Passage Fort, now a sharp silhouette in the moonlight. It had turrets at each corner and a wide breastwork, from which a row of eighteen-pound culverin projected, hard fingers against the sky. "I just pray our welcome celebration isn't too well attended."As they rowed slowly up the river, the first traces of dawn were beginning to show in the east. She realized their attackwould have to come quickly now. Even though thevigiahad been silenced, sentries would doubtless be posted around the fort. There still could be a bloody fight with small arms if they were spotted in time for the Spaniards to martial the militia inside. Let one sentry sound the alarm and all surprise would be lost."I think we'd best beach somewhere along here." Bartholomew was sounding with an oar. The river was growing increasingly sandy and shallow. "She's down to no more'n half a fathom.""Besides that, it's starting to get light now." Winston nodded concurrence. "Much farther and they might spy us. Signal the lads behind to put in.""Aye." He turned and motioned with his oar. Quickly and silently the dugouts veered into the banks and the men began climbing over the sides. As they waded through the mud, each carrying a flintlock musket and a pike, they dragged the dugouts ashore and into the brush."All right, masters." Winston walked down the line as they began to form ranks. "We want to try taking this place without alerting the whole island. If we can do that, then the Spaniards'll not have time to evacuate the town. Remember anything we take in either placewill be divided according to the Articles drawn. Any man who doesn't share what he finds will be judged by the rest, and may God have mercy on him." He turned and gazed up the hill. There was a single trail leading through the forest. "So look lively, masters. Let's make quick work of this."As they headed up the incline, the men carefully holding their bandoliers to prevent rattling, they could clearly see the fort above the trees. Now lights began to flicker along the front of the breastwork, torches. Next, excited voices began to filter down, faint in the morning air.Armando Vargas had moved alongside Winston, his eyes narrow beneath his helmet and his weathered face grim. Helistened a moment longer, then whispered, "I fear something may have gone wrong, senor.""What are they saying?" Winston was checking the prime on his pistols."I think I hear orders to run out the cannon." He paused to listen. "Could they have spotted our masts over at thecayo? It is getting light now. Or perhaps an alert was sounded by thevigiaafter all." He glared pointedly back toward Atiba. "Perhaps it was not so secure as we were told."Behind them the seamen had begun readying their flintlocks. Though they appeared disorganized, they handled their muskets with practiced ease. They were not raw recruits like Barbados' militia; these were fighting men with long experience.They continued quickly and silently up the path. Now the moon had begun to grow pale with the approach of day, and as they neared the rear of the fortress they could see the details of its stonework. The outside walls were only slightly higher than a man's head, easy enough to scale with grapples if need be.As they emerged at the edge of the clearing, Winston suddenly realized that the heavy wooden door at the rear of the fort was already ajar.Good Christ, we can just walk in.He turned and signaled for the men to group. "It's time, masters. Vargas thinks they may have spotted our masts, over at the Point, and started to ready the guns." His voice was just above a whisper. "In any case, we'll need to move fast. I'll lead, with my lads. After we're inside, the rest of you hit it with a second wave. We'll rush the sentries, then take any guards. After that we'll attend to the gunners, who like as not won't be armed."Suddenly more shouts from inside the fort drifted across the clearing. Vargas motioned for quiet, then glanced at Winston. "I hear one of them saying that they must send for the cavalry.""Why?"He paused. "I don't know what is happening, but they are very frightened in there, senor.""Good God, if they get word back to the town, it's the end of any booty.""Hugh, I don't like this." Katherine stared toward the fortress. There were no guards to be seen, no sentries. Everyone was inside, shouting. "Maybe it's some kind of ruse. Something has gone terribly wrong.""To tell the truth, I don't like it either." He cocked his pistol and motioned the men forward. "Let's take it, masters."Some fifty yards separated them from the open door as they began their dash forward across the clearing. Now they could hear the sound of cannon trucks rolling over paving stone as the guns were being set.Only a few more feet remained. Would the door stay open? Why had there been no musket fire?As Winston bounded up the stone steps leading to the door, hewn oak with iron brackets, still no alarm rose up, only shouts from the direction of the cannon at the front of the breastwork. He seized the handle and heaved it wide, then waved the others after him. Atiba was already at his side, cutlass drawn.Now they were racing down the dark stone corridor, a gothic arch above their heads, its racks of muskets untouched.My God, he thought, they're not even going to be armed. Only a few feet more . . .A deafening explosion sounded from the front, then a second and a third. Black smoke boiled up as a yell arose from the direction of the cannon. The guns of the fort had been fired.When they emerged at the end of the corridor and into the smoky yard, Spanish militiamen were already rolling backthe ordnance to reload. The gunners froze and looked on dumbfounded.“!Ingles Demonio!'' One of them suddenly found his voice and yelled out, then threw himself face down on the paving stones. One after another, all the others followed. In moments only one man remained standing, a tall officer in a silver helmet. Winston realized he must be the gunnery commander.He drew his sword, a long Toledo-steel blade, and stood defiantly facing Winston and the line of musketmen."No." Winston waved his pistol. "It's no use."The commander paused, then stepped back and cursed his prostrate militiamen. Finally, with a look of infinite humiliation, he slowly slipped the sword back into its scabbard.A cheer went up from the seamen, and several turned to head for the inner chambers of the fortress, to start the search for booty. Now the second wave of the attack force was pouring through the corridor."Katy, it's over." Winston beckoned her to him and and boxed ceremoniously. "Jamaica is . . ."The yard erupted as the copestone of the turret at the corner exploded, raining chips of hard limestone around them."Great God, we're taking fire from down below." He stood a moment in disbelief. Around him startled seamen began to scurry for cover.Even as he spoke, another round of cannon shot slammed into the front of the breastwork, shaking the flagstone under their feet."Who the hell's in charge down there? There were no orders to fire on the fort ..."Another round of cannon shot crashed into the stone facing above them."Masters, take cover. There'll be hell to pay for this, I promise you." He suddenly recalled that Mewes had been left in command down below. "If John's ordered the ships into the bay and opened fire, I'll skin him alive.""Aye, and with this commotion, I'll wager their damned cavalry lancers will be on their way soon enough to give us a welcome." Bartholomew was standing alongside him. "I'd say we'd best secure that door back there and make ready to stand them off.""Order it done." Winston moved past the gunners and headed toward the front of the breastwork, Katherine at his side. As they approached the Spanish commander, he backed away, then bowed nervously and addressed them in broken English."You may receive my sword, senor, in return for the lives of my men. I am Capitan Juan Vicente de Padilla, and I offer you unconditional surrender. Please run up your flag and signal your gunships.""We've got no flag." Winston stared at him. "Yet. But we will soon enough.""What do you mean,mi capitan? You are Ingles." His dark eyes acquired a puzzled expression. "Of course you have a flag. It is the one on your ships, down in the bay.""Hugh, what's he talking about? Has John run up English colors?" Katherine strode quickly past the smoking cannon to the edge of the breastwork and leaned over the side.Below, the bay was lightening in the early dawn. She stood a moment, then turned back and motioned Winston to join her. Her face was in shock. He shoved his pistol into his belt and walked to her side.Headed across the bay, guns run out, was a long line of warships. Nearest the shore, and already launching longboats of Roundhead infantry, were theRainboweand theMarsten Moor— the red and white Cross of St. George fluttering from their mizzenmasts.Chapter Twenty-three"Heaven help us. To think the Lord Protector's proud Western Design has been reduced to assaulting this worthless backwater." Edmond Calvert's voice trailed off gloomily as he examined the blue-green mountains of Jamaica. Then he turned to face Colonel Richard Morris, standing beside him on the quarterdeck. "No silver mines, no plantations, doubtless nothing save wild hogs and crocodiles.""Well, sir, at least this time the navy has landed my men where we'd planned." Morris was studying the Passage Fort that loomed above them. Amidships, moored longboats were being loaded with helmeted infantry, muskets at the ready. "Their culverin seem to have quieted. If the town's no better defended, there should be scant difficulty making this place ours.""That, sir, was precisely what you were saying when we first sighted Santo Domingo, scarcely more than a fortnight past—before those craven stalwarts you'd call an army were chased back into the sea."Morris' eyes narrowed. "When the accounting for Hispaniola is finish'd, sir, that debacle will be credited to the incompetence of the English navy.""All the same, you'd best take your stouthearted band of cowards and see what you can manage here." Calvert dismissed the commander with a perfunctory salute. Rancor no longer served any end; what was lost was lost.What had been forfeited, he knew, was England's best chance ever to seize a portion of Spain's vast New World wealth. Oliver Cromwell's ambitious Western Design had foundered hopelessly on the sun-scorched shores of Hispaniola.He reflected again on the confident instructions in his secret commission, authorized by the Lord Protector himself and approved by his new Council of State only four months earlier.“The Western Design of His Highness is intended to gain for England that part of the West Indies now in the possession of the Spaniard, for the effecting thereof we shall communicate to you what hath been under our Consideration.Your first objective is to seize certain of the Spaniards' Islands, and particularly Hispaniola. Said Island hath no considerable place in the South part thereof but the City of Santo Domingo, and that not being heavily fortified may doubtless be possest without much difficulty, which being done, that whole Island will be brought under Obedience.From thence, after your Landing there, send force for the taking of Havana, which lies in the Island of Cuba, which is the back door of the West Indies, and will obstruct the passing of the Spaniards' Plate Fleet into Europe.Having secured these Islands, proceed immediately to Cartegena, which we would make the Seat of the intended Design, and from which England will be Master of the Spaniards' Treasure which comes from Peru by the way of Panama in the South Seas to Porto Bello or Nombre de Dios in the North Sea . . .”How presumptuous it all seemed from this vantage. Worse still, the Council of State had not even bothered taking notice of Jamaica, an under-defended wilderness now their only chance to seizeanythingheld by the Spaniards.Most depressing of all, Cromwell would surely be loath to spend a shilling on the men and arms needed to hold such a dubious prize. Meaning the Spaniards would simply come and reclaim it the minute the fleet set sail.Surely, he told himself, Cromwell was aware they had shipped out without nearly enough trained men to attack Spanish holdings. Even his Council of State realized as much. But they had nourished the delusion that, once Barbados was bludgeoned back into the Commonwealth, its planters would dutifully offer up whatever first-rate men, arms, and cavalry were needed for the campaign.What the Council of State had not conceived was how indifferent those islanders would be to the territorial ambitions of Oliver Cromwell. Barbados' planters, it turned out, wanted nothing to do with a conquest of the Spanish Americas; to them, more English-held lands in the New World only meant the likelihood of more acres planted in sugar one day, to compete with the trade they hoped to monopolize. Consequently, Morris' Barbados recruits consisted almost wholly of runaway indentures eluding their owners and their creditors, a collection of profane, debauched rogues whose only boldness lay in doing mischief.Sugar and slaves. They might well have undermined Barbados' brief try for independence; but they also meant there would be no more English lands in the Americas.Calvert's heart grew heavy as he remembered how their careful strategy for taking Hispaniola had been wrecked. They had decided to avoid the uncharted harbor of Santo Domingo and land five miles down the coast. But by a mischance of wind on their stern, it was thirty. Then Morris had disembarked his troops with scarcely any water or victuals. All the first day, however, he had marched unopposed, his Puritan infantrymen even pausing to vandalize Papist churches along the way, using idols of the Virgin for musket practice.The Spaniards, however, had a plan of their own. They had been busy burning all the savannahs farther ahead to drive away the cattle, leaving a path of scorched ground. Soon Morris' supplies were exhausted and hunger began to set in; whereupon his infantry started stealing the horses of the cavalry, roasting and devouring them so ravenously the Spaniards reportedly thought horsemeat must be some kind of English delicacy.Then came another catastrophe. For sport, the army burned some thatched huts belonging to Hispaniola's notorious Cow- Killers. Soon a gang of vengeful hunters had massed in the woods along the army's path and begun sniping with their long-barrelled muskets. After that, whenever fireflies appeared in the evenings, the English sentries, never before having seen such creatures, mistook them for the burning matchcord of the Cow-Killers' muskets and began firing into the night, causing general panic and men trampled to death in flight. Also, the rattling claws of the night-foraging Caribbean land crabs would sound to the nervous English infantry like the clank of the Cow-Killers' bandoliers. An alarm would raise—"the Cow-Killers"—and soldiers would run blindly into the forests and deadly swamps trying to flee.When they finally reached Santo Domingo, Morris and his demoralized men gamely tried to rush and scale the walls, whereupon the Spaniards simply fired down with cannon and slew hundreds. Driven back, Morris claimed his retreat was merely "tactical." But when he tried again, the Spanish cavalry rode out and lanced countless more in a general rout, only turning back when they tired of killing. It was the most humiliating defeat any English army had ever received—suffered at the hands of the supposedly craven Spaniards, and the wandering Cow-Killers, of Hispaniola.Back at sea, they realized the foolhardiness of an attempt on Havana or Cartegena, so the choice they were confronted with was to return to England empty-handed and face Cromwell's outrage, or perhaps try some easier Spanish prize. That was when they hit on the idea of Jamaica—admittedly a smaller island than Hispaniola and of scant consequence to Spain, but a place known for its slight defenses. They immediately weighed anchor and made sail for Jamaica Bay. . . ."Well, sir, I take it the shooting's over for now. Mayhaps this time your rabble army will see fit to stand and fight like Englishmen." Edging his way cautiously up the smoky companionway, in black hat and cotton doublet, was one of the few Barbados planters who had offered to join the expedition. He glanced at the sunlit fortress, then stared at the green hills beyond. "Though from the looks of the place, I'd judge it's scarcely worth the waste of a round of shot. 'Twould seem to be damn'd near as wild as Barbados the day I first set foot on her.""I think Colonel Morris knows his duty, sir." Calvert's tone grew official. "And I presume some of this land could readily be put into cultivation."Why, Calvert puzzled, had the planter come? He'd not offered to assist the infantry. No, most probably he volunteered in hopes of commandeering the choicest Spanish plantations on Hispaniola all for himself. Or perhaps he merely couldn't countenance the thought he'd been denied a seat on Barbados' new Council. Yes, that was more likely the case. Why else would a sugar grower as notoriously successful as Benjamin Briggs have decided to come with them?"Cultivation!" Briggs turned on him. "I see you know little enough about running a plantation, sir. Where's the labor you'd need?""Perhaps some of these infantry will choose to stay and settle. With the Spaniards all about, this island's going to require . . .""This set of layabouts? I doubt one in a hundred could tell a cassava root from a yam, assuming he had the industry tohoe one up." Briggs moved to the railing and surveyed the wide plain spreading up from the harbor. "This batch’d not be worth tuppence the dozen for clearing stumps and planting.". . . But, he found himself thinking, maybe things would be different if you went about it properly. And brought in some Africans. Enough strapping blacks and some of these savannahs might well be set to production. And if not along here, then maybe upland. The hills look as green as Barbados was thirty years ago. Could it be I was wise to come after all? Damn Hispaniola. This place could be the ideal spot to prove what I've always believed.Aye, he told himself. Barbados showed there's a fortune to be made with sugar. But what's really called for is land, lots of it; and half the good plots there're still held by damn'd ten-acre freeholders. The New World is the place where a man has to think in larger terms. So what if I sold off those Barbados acres, packed up the sugar mill and brought it here, cut a deal with the Dutchmen for a string of quality Nigers on long credit . . .?All we need do is send these few Spaniards packing, and this island could well be a gold mine."If you'll pardon me, Mister Briggs, I'll have to be going ashore now." Calvert nodded, then turned for the companionway."As you will, sir." Briggs glanced back at the island. "And if it's all the same, I think I'll be joining you. To take the measure of this fish we've snagged and see what we've got.""You might do better to wait, Mister Briggs, till we've gained a clear surrender from the Spaniards.""Well, sir, I don't see any Spaniards lurking about there on the plain." He headed down the companionway after Calvert. "I'm the civilian here, which means I've got responsibilities of my own.""Hugh, are we going to just stand here and let these bastards rob us?" Katherine was angrily gripping her musket. "We took this fort, not Morris and his Roundheads."Winston stood staring at the warships, his mind churning. Why the hell were they here? Cromwell had better things to do with his navy than harass a few Spanish planters.Whatever they want, he vowed to himself, they'll damn well have to fight for it."'Tis the most cursed sight I e'er laid eyes on." Guy Bartholomew had moved beside them. "Mayhaps that rumor about some fleet trying Santo Domingo was all too true. An' when they fail'd at that, they decided to pillage Jamaica instead."Next to him was Timothy Farrell, spouting Irish oaths down on the ships. "Aye, by the Holy Virgin, but whatever happen'd, I'll wager you this—it's the last we're like to see of any ransom for the town." His eyes were desolate. "The damn'd English'll be havin' it all. They've never heard of dividing a thing fair and square, that I promise you.""Well, they can't squeeze a town that's empty." Winston turned to Bartholomew. "So why don't we start by giving this navy a little token of our thanks. Set these Spaniards free to go back and help clear out Villa de la Vega. By the time the damn'd Roundheads get there, there'll be nothing to find save empty huts.""Well, sir, it's a thought, I'll grant you. Else we could try and get over there first ourselves, to see if there's any gold left to be had. These Spaniards' Romanish churches are usually good for a few trinkets." Theboucanierlooked down again. A line of longboats was now edging across the bay below, headed for the shore beneath the fort. He glanced back at his men. "What say you, lads?""There's no point to it, Cap'n, as I'm a Christian." One of the grizzledboucaniersbehind him spoke up. "There're lads here aplenty who've sailed for the English navy in their time, an' I'm one of 'em. You can be sure we'd never get past those frigates with any Spanish gold. All we'd get is a rope if we tried riflin' the town now, or holdin' it for ransom. When an honest tar borrows a brass watch fob, he's hang'd for theft; when the generals steal a whole country, it's called the spoils of war. No sir, I've had all the acquaintance I expect to with so-called English law. I warrant the best thing we can do now is try getting out of here whilst we can, and let the whoresons have what they came to find. We took this place once, by God, and we can well do it again."There was a murmur of concurrence from the others. Some experienced seamen were already eyeing the stone corridor, reflecting on the English navy's frequent practice of impressing any able-bodied man within reach whenever it needed replacements."Well, sir, there's some merit in what you say." Bartholomew nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe the wisest course right now is to try and get some canvas on our brigs before this navy starts to nose about our anchorage over at the other side of thecayo."That's the best, make nae mistake." The Scotsman MacEwen interjected nervously. "An' if these Spaniards care to trouble keeping the damn'd Roundheads entertained whilst we're doin' it, then I'd gladly hand them back every gunner here, with a skein of matchcord in the trade. Whatever's in the town can be damn'd.""Then it's done." Winston motioned for the Spanish commander. Captain Juan Vicente de Padilla advanced hesitantly, renewed alarm in his dark eyes."Do you wish to receive my sword now, capitan?""No, you can keep it, and get the hell out of here. Go on back to Villa de la Vega and let your governor know the English navy's invaded.""Capitan, I do not understand your meaning." He stood puzzling. "Your speech is Ingles, but you are not part of thosegaleonesdown below?""We're not English. And I can promise you this islandhasn't heard the last of us." Winston thumbed toward the corridor. "Now you'd best be out of here. I don't know how long those Roundheads expect to tarry."With a bow of supreme relief, Captain de Padilla turned and summoned his men. In moments the Spanish gunners were jostling toward the corridor, each wanting to be the first to evacuate his family and wealth from Villa de la Vega."In God's name, Hugh, don't tell me you're thinking to just hand over this fort!" Katherine was still watching the shore below, where infantrymen were now forming ranks to begin marching up the slope. "I, for one, intend to stand and fight as long as there's powder and shot.""Don't worry, we've got the heavy guns. And their damned warships are under them." He signaled to Tom Canninge, master gunner of theDefiance. "Have the boys prime and run out these culverin. We need to be ready.""Good as done." Canninge shouted an order, and his men hurriedly began hauling the tackles left lying on the stone pavement by the Spanish gunners, rolling back the iron cannon to reload.By now the infantry had begun advancing up the hill. Winston watched them long enough through the sparse trees to recognize Richard Morris at their head.So we meet again, you Roundhead bastard. But this time / start out holding the ordnance."Masters, cover us with your muskets." He motioned for Katherine and together they started for the corridor. The hallway had grown lighter now, a pale gold in the early light of dawn. At the far end the heavy oak door had been left ajar by the departing Spanish gunners.As they stepped into the sunshine, Atiba suddenly appeared beside them, concern on his face. "Senhor, I think it is no longer safe at the damnablevigiaon the hill. I must go back up there now.""All right." Winston waved him on. "But see you're quick on it.""I am a man of the mountains. When I wish, I can travel faster than a Spaniard with a horse." He began to sprint across the clearing, headed for the trees."Katy, hang on to this." Winston drew one of the pistols from his belt and handed it to her. "We'll talk first, but if we have to shoot, the main thing is to bring down Morris. That ought to scatter them."As they rounded the corner of the fort. Colonel Richard Morris emerged through the trees opposite, leading a column of infantry. The commander froze when he saw them. He was raising his musket, preparing to give order to fire, when his face softened into a disbelieving grin."God's blood. Nobody told me you'd decided to join up with this assault." He examined them a moment longer, then glanced up at the breastwork, where a line of seamen had appeared, holding flintlocks. He stared a moment in confusion before looking back at Winston. "I suppose congratulations are in order. We had no idea 'twas you and your men who'd silenced their guns. You've doubtless saved us a hot ordnance battle. Bloody fine job, I must say." He lowered his musket and strode warily forward. "What have you done with all the Spaniards?""They're gone now." Winston's hand was on the pistol in his belt."Then the place is ours!" Morris turned and motioned the infantrymen forward. "Damned odd I didn't notice your . . . frigate in amongst our sail. We could've used you at Hispaniola." He tried to smile. "I'd say, sir, that an extra month's pay for you and your lads is in order, even though I take it you joined us late. I'll see to it myself.""You can save your eighteen shillings. Colonel. We plan to hold this fort, and maybe the island to go with it. But you're free to rifle the town if you think you can still find anything.""You plan to hold what, sir?" Morris took a cautious step backward."Where you're standing. It's called Jamaica. We got here first and we intend to keep however much of it strikes our fancy.''"Well, sir, that's most irregular. I see you've still got all the brass I recall." He gripped the barrel of his musket. "I've already offered you a bonus for exceptional valor. But if you're thinking now to try and rebel against my command here, what you're more likely to earn is a rope around your neck."Winston turned and yelled up to Canninge. "Tom, ready the guns and when I give the order, lay a few rounds across the quarterdeck of theRainboweanchored down there. Maybe it'll encourage Colonel Morris to reexamine the situation.""Good God!" Morris paled. "Is this some kind of jest?""You can take whatever you want from the Spaniards. But this harbor's mine. That is, if you'd prefer keeping Cromwell's flagship afloat.""This harbor?""That's right. We're keeping the harbor. And this fortress, till such time as we come to an understanding."While Morris stared up again at the row of cannon, behind him the last contingent of infantry began to emerge through the trees. Leading it was Admiral Edmond Calvert, and beside him strode a heavyset man in a wide, dark hat. They moved through the row of silver-helmeted infantrymen, who parted deferentially for the admiral, headed toward Morris. They were halfway across the clearing before Benjamin Briggs noticed Katherine and Winston."What in the name of hell!" He stopped abruptly. "Have the both of you come back to be hanged like you merit?""I'd take care what you say, Master Briggs." Winston looked down the slope. "My lads up there might mistake your good humor."Briggs glanced up uncertainly at the breastwork, then back."I'd like to know what lawless undertaking it is brings you two to this forsaken place?""You might try answering the same question.""I'm here to look to English interests.""I assume that means your personal interests. So we're probably here for much the same reason.""I take it you two gentlemen are previously acquainted." Calvert moved cautiously forward. "Whatever your past cordiality, there'll be ample time to manage the disposition of this place after it's ours. We're dividing the skin before we've caught the fox. Besides, it's the Lord Protector who'll . . ."There was a shout from the breastwork above, and Calvert paused to look up. Tom Canninge was standing beside one of the grey iron culverin, waving down at Winston."Cap'n, there's a mass of horsemen coming up the road from the town.""Are they looking to counterattack?"The gunner paused and studied the road. "From here I'd say not. They're travelin' slow, more just walkin' their mounts. An' there're a few blacks with them, who look to be carry in' some kind of hammock."Now Morris was gazing warily down the road toward Villa de la Vega. He consulted briefly with Calvert, then ordered his men to take cover in the scattering of trees across the clearing.Coming toward them was a row of Spanish horsemen, with long lances and silver-trimmed saddles, their mounts prancing deferentially behind a slow-moving cluster of men, all attired in the latest Seville finery. In the lead was an open litter, shaded from the sun by a velvet awning, with the poles at each of its four corners held shoulder high by an aged Negro wearing a blue silk loincloth.Katherine heard a rustle at her elbow and turned to see the admiral bowing. "Edmond Calvert, madam, your servant." He quickly glanced again at the Spanish before continuing. "Colonel Morris just advised me you are Dalby Bedford's daughter. Please allow me to offer my condolences.”She nodded lightly and said nothing, merely tightening her grip on the pistol she held. Calvert examined her a moment, then addressed Winston. "And I'm told that you, sir, were gunnery commander for Barbados."Winston inspected him in silence.Calvert cleared his throat. "Well, sir, if that's indeed who you are, I most certainly have cause to know you for a first-rate seaman. I take it you somehow managed to outsail the Gloucester." He continued guardedly. "You were a wanted man then, but after what's happened today, I think allowances can be made. In truth, I'd like to offer you a commission here and now if you'd care to serve under me.""Accept my thanks, but I'm not looking for recruitment." Winston nodded, then turned back to study the approaching cavalry. "The 'commission' I plan to take is right here. And that's the two of us. Miss Bedford and I expect to make Jamaica home base."Calvert smiled as he continued. "Well, sir, if you're thinking now you want to stay, there'll surely be a place for you here. I'll take odds the Spaniards are not going to let us commandeer this island without soon posting a fleet to try and recover it. Which means we've got to look to some defenses right away, possibly move a few of the culverin from theRainboweandMarsten Moorup here to the breastwork. There's plenty to . . .""What are you saying!" Katherine stared at him. "That you're going to try and hold Jamaica?""For England." He sobered. "I agree with you it'll not be an easy task, madam, but we expect to do our best, I give you my solemn word. Yes, indeed. And if you and the men with you care to assist us, I will so recommend it to His Highness. I fear we'll be wanting experienced gunners here, and soon."While Katherine stood speechless, Benjamin Briggs edged next to them and whispered toward Calvert, "Admiral, you don't suppose we'd best look to our defenses, till we've found out what these damn'd Spaniards are about?""This can only be one thing, Mister Briggs. Some kind of attempt to try and negotiate." Calvert examined the procession again as it neared the edge of the clearing. "Not even Spaniards attack from a palanquin."Now the approaching file was slowing to a halt. While the horsemen reined in to wait in the sunshine, one of the men who had been walking alongside the litter began to converse solemnly with a shadowed figure beneath its awning. Finally he reached in and received a long silk-wrapped bundle, then stepped around the bearers and headed toward them.He was wearing a velvet waistcoat and plumed hat, and as he approached the four figures standing by the breastwork, he appeared momentarily disoriented. His olive skin looked sallow in the early light and his heavy moustache drooped. Finally he stopped a few feet away and addressed them collectively."I am Antonio de Medina, lieutenant-general to our governor, don Francisco de Castilla, who has come to meet you. He regrets that his indisposition does not permit him to tender you his sword from his own hand." He paused and glanced back at the litter. An arm emerged feebly and waved him on. "His Excellency has been fully advised of the situation, and he is here personally to enquire your business. If it is ransom you wish to claim, he would have me remind you we are but a poor people, possessing little wealth save our honesty and good name.""I am Admiral Edmond Calvert, and I receive his greeting in the name of England's Lord Protector." Calvert was studying the shrouded litter with puzzlement. "Furthermore, you may advise don Francisco de Castilla that we've not come for ransom. We're here to claim this island in the name of His Highness Oliver Cromwell. For England.""Senor, I do not understand." Medina's brow wrinkled. "Inglesgaleonessuch as yours have come in times past, and we have always raised the ransom they required, no matter how difficult for us. We will . . .""This time, sir, it's going to be a different arrangement." Briggs stepped forward. "He's telling you we're here to stay. Pass that along to your governor.''"But you cannot just claim this island, senor." Medina examined Briggs with disbelief. "It has belonged to Spain for a hundred and forty years.""Where's your bill of sale, by God? We say it belongs to whoever's got the brass to seize hold of it. Spaniards took half the Americas from the heathen; now it's England's turn.""But this island was granted to our king by His Holiness the Pope, in Rome.""Aye, your Pope's ever been free to dispense lands he never owned in the first place." Briggs smiled broadly. "I seem to recall back in King Harry's time he offered England to anybody who'd invade us, but none of your Papist kings troubled to take up his gift." He sobered. "This island's English, as of today, and damned to your Purple Whore of Rome.""Senor, protestante blasphemies will not . . .""Take care, Master Briggs." Winston's voice cut between them. "Don't be so quick to assume England has it. At the moment it looks like this fortress belongs to me and my men.""Well, sir, if you're thinking to try and steal something from this place, which now belongs to England, I'd be pleased to hear how you expect to manage it.""I don't care to steal a thing. I've already got what I want. While we've been talking, my lads down on theDefiancewere off-loading culverin there at the Cayo de Carena. On the Point. As of now, any bottom that tries to enter, or leave, this harbor is going to have to sail under them. So the harbor's mine, including what's in it at the moment. Not to mention this fort as well.""Perhaps you'd best tell me what you have in mind, sir." Calvert glanced up at the breastwork, its iron cannon now all directed on the anchored ships below."We might consider an arrangement." Winston paused, then looked down at the bay."What do you mean?""These men sailing with me areboucaniers, Cow-Killers to you, and we need this harbor. In future, we intend sailing from Jamaica, from right over there, at the Point. There'll be a freeport there, for anybody who wants to join with us.""Are you saying you mean to settle down there on the Point, with these buccaneers?" Calvert was trying to comprehend what he was hearing. Could it be that, along with Jamaica, Cromwell was going to get armed ships, manned by the only men in the Caribbean feared by the Spaniards, for nothing?Perhaps it might even mean Jamaica could be kept. The Western Design might end up with something after all . . ."Well, sir, in truth, this island's going to be needing all the fighting men it can muster if it's to defend itself from the Spaniards." Calvert turned to Briggs. "If these buccaneers of his want to headquarter here, it could well be a godsend.""You'd countenance turning over the safety of this place to a band of rogues?" Briggs' face began to grow dark with a realization. "Hold a minute, sir. Are you meanin' to suggest Cromwell won't trouble providing this island with naval protection?""His Highness will doubtless act in what he considers to be England's best interest, Mister Briggs, but I fear he'll not be too anxious to expend revenues fortifying and patrolling an empty Spanish island. I wouldn't expect to see the English navy around here, if that's what you're thinking.""But this island's got to have defenses. It's not the same as Barbados. Over there we were hundreds of leagues to windward. And the Spaniards never cared about it in the first place. But Jamaica's different. It's right on the Windward Passage. You've got to keep an armed fleet and some fortifications here or the Spaniards'll just come and take the place back whenever they have a mind.""Then you'd best start thinking about how you'd plan to arrange for it." Calvert turned back to Medina. "Kindly advise His Excellency I wish to speak with him directly."The lieutenant-general bowed and nervously returned to the litter. After consulting inside for a moment, he ordered the bearers to move it forward.What they saw was a small, shriveled man, bald and all but consumed with venereal pox. He carefully shaded his yellow eyes from the morning sun as he peered out."As I have said, Excellency, we are pleased to acknowledge your welcome," Calvert addressed him. "For the time we will abstain from sacking Villa de la Vega, in return for which courtesy you will immediately supply our fleet with three hundred head of fat cattle for feeding our men, together with cassava bread and other comestibles as we may require."After a quick exchange, Medina looked back, troubled. "His Excellency replies he has no choice but to comply.""Fine. But I'm not quite finished. Be it also known without any mistaking that we have hereby taken charge of the island of Jamaica. I expect to send you the terms to sign tomorrow morning, officially surrendering it to England."Winston stepped forward and faced Medina. "You can also advise His Excellency there'll be another item in the terms. Those slaves standing there, and all others on the island, are going to be made free men.""Senor, all the negros on this island have already been set free, by His Excellency's proclamation this very morning. To help us resist. Do you think we are fools? Our negros arecatolico. They and our Maroons will stand with us if we have to drive youprotestanteheretics from this island.""Maroons?" Calvert studied him."Si. that is the name of the free negros who live here, in the mountains." He approached Calvert. "And know this, Ingles. They are no longer alone. The king of Spain will not let you steal this island, and we will not either. Even now, our people in Villa de la Vega have taken all their belongings and left for the mountains also. We will wage war on you from there forever if need be. You may try to steal this island, against the laws of God, but if you do, our people will empty theirhatosand drive their cattle into the hills. Your army will starve. This island will become your coffin, we promise you."
"You make it sound too easy by half." She leaned against him, wishing she could fully share his confidence. "But if we do manage to take the fort, what about Villa de la Vega?"
"The town'll have to surrender, sooner or later. They'll have no harbor. And this island can't survive without one."
She sighed and glanced back toward the shore. In the moonlight the blue mountains of Jamaica towered silently above the bay. Would those mountains some day stand for freedom in the Caribbean, the way Tortuga once did . . . ?
She sensed Winston's body tense and glanced up. He was gazing across the bay toward the shore, where a dim light had suddenly appeared. Then another, and another.
"Katy, I've waited a long, long time for this. Thinking about it, planning it. All along I always figured I'd be doing it alone. But your being here . . ." He seemed to lose the words as he held her against him. "Tonight we're about to do something, together, that'll change the Americas forever."
The oars bit into the swell and the dark waters of the bay slapped against the bark-covered prow, an ancient cadence he remembered from that long voyage north, ten years past. Where had all the years gone?
Behind him was a line of dugouts, a deadly procession of armed, grim-faced seamen. All men of Tortuga, not one among them still welcome in any English, French, or Dutch settlement.
Was it possible to start over with men like these? A new nation?
"Mira," Vargas whispered over the rhythm of the oars. His dark eyes were glistening as he pointed toward the entry to the harbor, a wide strait that lay between the Point of the Cayo de Carena and the mainland. Around them the light surf sparkled in the moonlight. "Is not thispuertothe finest in all the Caribbean?" He smiled back at Winston, showing a row of tobacco-stained teeth. "No storm reaches here. The smallest craft can anchor safely, even in ahuracan. "
"It's just like I figured. So the spot to situate our cannon really is right there on the Point. Do that and nobody could ever get into the bay."
Vargas laughed. "Si, that is true. If they had guns here, we could never get past. But Jamaica is a poor island. The Passage Fort over on the river has always been able to slow an assault long enough for them to empty the town. Then their women and children are safe. What else do they have worth stealing?"
"Hugh, is this the location you were talking to John about?" Katherine was studying the wide and sandy Point.
"The very place. That's why I had him stay with theDefianceand keep some of the lads."
"I hope he can do it."
"He'll wait till sun-up, till after we take the fort. But this cay is the place to be, mark it."
"You are right, senor," Vargas continued as they steered on around the Point. "I have often wondered myself why there was no port city out here. Perhaps it is because this island has nothing but stupidagricultores. "
Their tiny armada of dugouts glided quickly across the strait, then hugged the shore, headed toward the mouth of the Rio Cobre. Now they were directly under thevigia.
As they rowed past, five figures suddenly emerged from the trees and began wading toward them. Winston immediately signaled the dugouts to put in.
Atiba was grinning as he hoisted himself over the side. "It was simple." He settled among the seamen. "There were only two whoreson Spaniards."
"Where's Serina?" Katherine scanned the empty shoreline. "Did anything happen?"
"When a woman is allowed to sit in council with warriors, there are always damnable complications." Atiba reached and helped one of the English seamen in. "She would not have us act as men and kill the whoresons both. So she is still up there on the mountain, holding a musket."
"You're not a better man if you murder their militia." Katherine scowled at him. "After you take a place, you only need hold it."
"That is the weak way of a woman, senhora." He glanced toward the hill as again their oars flashed in the moonlight. "It is not the warrior way."
Winston grimaced, but said nothing, knowing the killing could be far from over.
In only minutes they had skirted the bay and were approaching the river mouth. As their dugouts veered into the Rio Cobre, the whitecaps gave way to placid ripples. The tide had just begun running out, and the surface of the water was flawless, reflecting back the half-moon. Now they were surrounded by palms, and beyond, dense forests. Since the rainy season was past, the river itself had grown shallow, with wide sand bars to navigate. But a quarter mile farther and they would be beneath the fort.
"Jamaica, at last." Winston grinned and dipped a hand into the cool river.
Katherine gazed up at the Passage Fort, now a sharp silhouette in the moonlight. It had turrets at each corner and a wide breastwork, from which a row of eighteen-pound culverin projected, hard fingers against the sky. "I just pray our welcome celebration isn't too well attended."
As they rowed slowly up the river, the first traces of dawn were beginning to show in the east. She realized their attack
would have to come quickly now. Even though thevigiahad been silenced, sentries would doubtless be posted around the fort. There still could be a bloody fight with small arms if they were spotted in time for the Spaniards to martial the militia inside. Let one sentry sound the alarm and all surprise would be lost.
"I think we'd best beach somewhere along here." Bartholomew was sounding with an oar. The river was growing increasingly sandy and shallow. "She's down to no more'n half a fathom."
"Besides that, it's starting to get light now." Winston nodded concurrence. "Much farther and they might spy us. Signal the lads behind to put in."
"Aye." He turned and motioned with his oar. Quickly and silently the dugouts veered into the banks and the men began climbing over the sides. As they waded through the mud, each carrying a flintlock musket and a pike, they dragged the dugouts ashore and into the brush.
"All right, masters." Winston walked down the line as they began to form ranks. "We want to try taking this place without alerting the whole island. If we can do that, then the Spaniards'll not have time to evacuate the town. Remember anything we take in either placewill be divided according to the Articles drawn. Any man who doesn't share what he finds will be judged by the rest, and may God have mercy on him." He turned and gazed up the hill. There was a single trail leading through the forest. "So look lively, masters. Let's make quick work of this."
As they headed up the incline, the men carefully holding their bandoliers to prevent rattling, they could clearly see the fort above the trees. Now lights began to flicker along the front of the breastwork, torches. Next, excited voices began to filter down, faint in the morning air.
Armando Vargas had moved alongside Winston, his eyes narrow beneath his helmet and his weathered face grim. He
listened a moment longer, then whispered, "I fear something may have gone wrong, senor."
"What are they saying?" Winston was checking the prime on his pistols.
"I think I hear orders to run out the cannon." He paused to listen. "Could they have spotted our masts over at thecayo? It is getting light now. Or perhaps an alert was sounded by thevigiaafter all." He glared pointedly back toward Atiba. "Perhaps it was not so secure as we were told."
Behind them the seamen had begun readying their flintlocks. Though they appeared disorganized, they handled their muskets with practiced ease. They were not raw recruits like Barbados' militia; these were fighting men with long experience.
They continued quickly and silently up the path. Now the moon had begun to grow pale with the approach of day, and as they neared the rear of the fortress they could see the details of its stonework. The outside walls were only slightly higher than a man's head, easy enough to scale with grapples if need be.
As they emerged at the edge of the clearing, Winston suddenly realized that the heavy wooden door at the rear of the fort was already ajar.
Good Christ, we can just walk in.
He turned and signaled for the men to group. "It's time, masters. Vargas thinks they may have spotted our masts, over at the Point, and started to ready the guns." His voice was just above a whisper. "In any case, we'll need to move fast. I'll lead, with my lads. After we're inside, the rest of you hit it with a second wave. We'll rush the sentries, then take any guards. After that we'll attend to the gunners, who like as not won't be armed."
Suddenly more shouts from inside the fort drifted across the clearing. Vargas motioned for quiet, then glanced at Winston. "I hear one of them saying that they must send for the cavalry."
"Why?"
He paused. "I don't know what is happening, but they are very frightened in there, senor."
"Good God, if they get word back to the town, it's the end of any booty."
"Hugh, I don't like this." Katherine stared toward the fortress. There were no guards to be seen, no sentries. Everyone was inside, shouting. "Maybe it's some kind of ruse. Something has gone terribly wrong."
"To tell the truth, I don't like it either." He cocked his pistol and motioned the men forward. "Let's take it, masters."
Some fifty yards separated them from the open door as they began their dash forward across the clearing. Now they could hear the sound of cannon trucks rolling over paving stone as the guns were being set.
Only a few more feet remained. Would the door stay open? Why had there been no musket fire?
As Winston bounded up the stone steps leading to the door, hewn oak with iron brackets, still no alarm rose up, only shouts from the direction of the cannon at the front of the breastwork. He seized the handle and heaved it wide, then waved the others after him. Atiba was already at his side, cutlass drawn.
Now they were racing down the dark stone corridor, a gothic arch above their heads, its racks of muskets untouched.
My God, he thought, they're not even going to be armed. Only a few feet more . . .
A deafening explosion sounded from the front, then a second and a third. Black smoke boiled up as a yell arose from the direction of the cannon. The guns of the fort had been fired.
When they emerged at the end of the corridor and into the smoky yard, Spanish militiamen were already rolling back
the ordnance to reload. The gunners froze and looked on dumbfounded.
“!Ingles Demonio!'' One of them suddenly found his voice and yelled out, then threw himself face down on the paving stones. One after another, all the others followed. In moments only one man remained standing, a tall officer in a silver helmet. Winston realized he must be the gunnery commander.
He drew his sword, a long Toledo-steel blade, and stood defiantly facing Winston and the line of musketmen.
"No." Winston waved his pistol. "It's no use."
The commander paused, then stepped back and cursed his prostrate militiamen. Finally, with a look of infinite humiliation, he slowly slipped the sword back into its scabbard.
A cheer went up from the seamen, and several turned to head for the inner chambers of the fortress, to start the search for booty. Now the second wave of the attack force was pouring through the corridor.
"Katy, it's over." Winston beckoned her to him and and boxed ceremoniously. "Jamaica is . . ."
The yard erupted as the copestone of the turret at the corner exploded, raining chips of hard limestone around them.
"Great God, we're taking fire from down below." He stood a moment in disbelief. Around him startled seamen began to scurry for cover.
Even as he spoke, another round of cannon shot slammed into the front of the breastwork, shaking the flagstone under their feet.
"Who the hell's in charge down there? There were no orders to fire on the fort ..."
Another round of cannon shot crashed into the stone facing above them.
"Masters, take cover. There'll be hell to pay for this, I promise you." He suddenly recalled that Mewes had been left in command down below. "If John's ordered the ships into the bay and opened fire, I'll skin him alive."
"Aye, and with this commotion, I'll wager their damned cavalry lancers will be on their way soon enough to give us a welcome." Bartholomew was standing alongside him. "I'd say we'd best secure that door back there and make ready to stand them off."
"Order it done." Winston moved past the gunners and headed toward the front of the breastwork, Katherine at his side. As they approached the Spanish commander, he backed away, then bowed nervously and addressed them in broken English.
"You may receive my sword, senor, in return for the lives of my men. I am Capitan Juan Vicente de Padilla, and I offer you unconditional surrender. Please run up your flag and signal your gunships."
"We've got no flag." Winston stared at him. "Yet. But we will soon enough."
"What do you mean,mi capitan? You are Ingles." His dark eyes acquired a puzzled expression. "Of course you have a flag. It is the one on your ships, down in the bay."
"Hugh, what's he talking about? Has John run up English colors?" Katherine strode quickly past the smoking cannon to the edge of the breastwork and leaned over the side.
Below, the bay was lightening in the early dawn. She stood a moment, then turned back and motioned Winston to join her. Her face was in shock. He shoved his pistol into his belt and walked to her side.
Headed across the bay, guns run out, was a long line of warships. Nearest the shore, and already launching longboats of Roundhead infantry, were theRainboweand theMarsten Moor— the red and white Cross of St. George fluttering from their mizzenmasts.
Chapter Twenty-three
"Heaven help us. To think the Lord Protector's proud Western Design has been reduced to assaulting this worthless backwater." Edmond Calvert's voice trailed off gloomily as he examined the blue-green mountains of Jamaica. Then he turned to face Colonel Richard Morris, standing beside him on the quarterdeck. "No silver mines, no plantations, doubtless nothing save wild hogs and crocodiles."
"Well, sir, at least this time the navy has landed my men where we'd planned." Morris was studying the Passage Fort that loomed above them. Amidships, moored longboats were being loaded with helmeted infantry, muskets at the ready. "Their culverin seem to have quieted. If the town's no better defended, there should be scant difficulty making this place ours."
"That, sir, was precisely what you were saying when we first sighted Santo Domingo, scarcely more than a fortnight past—before those craven stalwarts you'd call an army were chased back into the sea."
Morris' eyes narrowed. "When the accounting for Hispaniola is finish'd, sir, that debacle will be credited to the incompetence of the English navy."
"All the same, you'd best take your stouthearted band of cowards and see what you can manage here." Calvert dismissed the commander with a perfunctory salute. Rancor no longer served any end; what was lost was lost.
What had been forfeited, he knew, was England's best chance ever to seize a portion of Spain's vast New World wealth. Oliver Cromwell's ambitious Western Design had foundered hopelessly on the sun-scorched shores of Hispaniola.
He reflected again on the confident instructions in his secret commission, authorized by the Lord Protector himself and approved by his new Council of State only four months earlier.
“The Western Design of His Highness is intended to gain for England that part of the West Indies now in the possession of the Spaniard, for the effecting thereof we shall communicate to you what hath been under our Consideration.
Your first objective is to seize certain of the Spaniards' Islands, and particularly Hispaniola. Said Island hath no considerable place in the South part thereof but the City of Santo Domingo, and that not being heavily fortified may doubtless be possest without much difficulty, which being done, that whole Island will be brought under Obedience.
From thence, after your Landing there, send force for the taking of Havana, which lies in the Island of Cuba, which is the back door of the West Indies, and will obstruct the passing of the Spaniards' Plate Fleet into Europe.
Having secured these Islands, proceed immediately to Cartegena, which we would make the Seat of the intended Design, and from which England will be Master of the Spaniards' Treasure which comes from Peru by the way of Panama in the South Seas to Porto Bello or Nombre de Dios in the North Sea . . .”
How presumptuous it all seemed from this vantage. Worse still, the Council of State had not even bothered taking notice of Jamaica, an under-defended wilderness now their only chance to seizeanythingheld by the Spaniards.
Most depressing of all, Cromwell would surely be loath to spend a shilling on the men and arms needed to hold such a dubious prize. Meaning the Spaniards would simply come and reclaim it the minute the fleet set sail.
Surely, he told himself, Cromwell was aware they had shipped out without nearly enough trained men to attack Spanish holdings. Even his Council of State realized as much. But they had nourished the delusion that, once Barbados was bludgeoned back into the Commonwealth, its planters would dutifully offer up whatever first-rate men, arms, and cavalry were needed for the campaign.
What the Council of State had not conceived was how indifferent those islanders would be to the territorial ambitions of Oliver Cromwell. Barbados' planters, it turned out, wanted nothing to do with a conquest of the Spanish Americas; to them, more English-held lands in the New World only meant the likelihood of more acres planted in sugar one day, to compete with the trade they hoped to monopolize. Consequently, Morris' Barbados recruits consisted almost wholly of runaway indentures eluding their owners and their creditors, a collection of profane, debauched rogues whose only boldness lay in doing mischief.
Sugar and slaves. They might well have undermined Barbados' brief try for independence; but they also meant there would be no more English lands in the Americas.
Calvert's heart grew heavy as he remembered how their careful strategy for taking Hispaniola had been wrecked. They had decided to avoid the uncharted harbor of Santo Domingo and land five miles down the coast. But by a mischance of wind on their stern, it was thirty. Then Morris had disembarked his troops with scarcely any water or victuals. All the first day, however, he had marched unopposed, his Puritan infantrymen even pausing to vandalize Papist churches along the way, using idols of the Virgin for musket practice.
The Spaniards, however, had a plan of their own. They had been busy burning all the savannahs farther ahead to drive away the cattle, leaving a path of scorched ground. Soon Morris' supplies were exhausted and hunger began to set in; whereupon his infantry started stealing the horses of the cavalry, roasting and devouring them so ravenously the Spaniards reportedly thought horsemeat must be some kind of English delicacy.
Then came another catastrophe. For sport, the army burned some thatched huts belonging to Hispaniola's notorious Cow- Killers. Soon a gang of vengeful hunters had massed in the woods along the army's path and begun sniping with their long-barrelled muskets. After that, whenever fireflies appeared in the evenings, the English sentries, never before having seen such creatures, mistook them for the burning matchcord of the Cow-Killers' muskets and began firing into the night, causing general panic and men trampled to death in flight. Also, the rattling claws of the night-foraging Caribbean land crabs would sound to the nervous English infantry like the clank of the Cow-Killers' bandoliers. An alarm would raise—"the Cow-Killers"—and soldiers would run blindly into the forests and deadly swamps trying to flee.
When they finally reached Santo Domingo, Morris and his demoralized men gamely tried to rush and scale the walls, whereupon the Spaniards simply fired down with cannon and slew hundreds. Driven back, Morris claimed his retreat was merely "tactical." But when he tried again, the Spanish cavalry rode out and lanced countless more in a general rout, only turning back when they tired of killing. It was the most humiliating defeat any English army had ever received—suffered at the hands of the supposedly craven Spaniards, and the wandering Cow-Killers, of Hispaniola.
Back at sea, they realized the foolhardiness of an attempt on Havana or Cartegena, so the choice they were confronted with was to return to England empty-handed and face Cromwell's outrage, or perhaps try some easier Spanish prize. That was when they hit on the idea of Jamaica—admittedly a smaller island than Hispaniola and of scant consequence to Spain, but a place known for its slight defenses. They immediately weighed anchor and made sail for Jamaica Bay. . . .
"Well, sir, I take it the shooting's over for now. Mayhaps this time your rabble army will see fit to stand and fight like Englishmen." Edging his way cautiously up the smoky companionway, in black hat and cotton doublet, was one of the few Barbados planters who had offered to join the expedition. He glanced at the sunlit fortress, then stared at the green hills beyond. "Though from the looks of the place, I'd judge it's scarcely worth the waste of a round of shot. 'Twould seem to be damn'd near as wild as Barbados the day I first set foot on her."
"I think Colonel Morris knows his duty, sir." Calvert's tone grew official. "And I presume some of this land could readily be put into cultivation."
Why, Calvert puzzled, had the planter come? He'd not offered to assist the infantry. No, most probably he volunteered in hopes of commandeering the choicest Spanish plantations on Hispaniola all for himself. Or perhaps he merely couldn't countenance the thought he'd been denied a seat on Barbados' new Council. Yes, that was more likely the case. Why else would a sugar grower as notoriously successful as Benjamin Briggs have decided to come with them?
"Cultivation!" Briggs turned on him. "I see you know little enough about running a plantation, sir. Where's the labor you'd need?"
"Perhaps some of these infantry will choose to stay and settle. With the Spaniards all about, this island's going to require . . ."
"This set of layabouts? I doubt one in a hundred could tell a cassava root from a yam, assuming he had the industry to
hoe one up." Briggs moved to the railing and surveyed the wide plain spreading up from the harbor. "This batch’d not be worth tuppence the dozen for clearing stumps and planting."
. . . But, he found himself thinking, maybe things would be different if you went about it properly. And brought in some Africans. Enough strapping blacks and some of these savannahs might well be set to production. And if not along here, then maybe upland. The hills look as green as Barbados was thirty years ago. Could it be I was wise to come after all? Damn Hispaniola. This place could be the ideal spot to prove what I've always believed.
Aye, he told himself. Barbados showed there's a fortune to be made with sugar. But what's really called for is land, lots of it; and half the good plots there're still held by damn'd ten-acre freeholders. The New World is the place where a man has to think in larger terms. So what if I sold off those Barbados acres, packed up the sugar mill and brought it here, cut a deal with the Dutchmen for a string of quality Nigers on long credit . . .?
All we need do is send these few Spaniards packing, and this island could well be a gold mine.
"If you'll pardon me, Mister Briggs, I'll have to be going ashore now." Calvert nodded, then turned for the companionway.
"As you will, sir." Briggs glanced back at the island. "And if it's all the same, I think I'll be joining you. To take the measure of this fish we've snagged and see what we've got."
"You might do better to wait, Mister Briggs, till we've gained a clear surrender from the Spaniards."
"Well, sir, I don't see any Spaniards lurking about there on the plain." He headed down the companionway after Calvert. "I'm the civilian here, which means I've got responsibilities of my own."
"Hugh, are we going to just stand here and let these bastards rob us?" Katherine was angrily gripping her musket. "We took this fort, not Morris and his Roundheads."
Winston stood staring at the warships, his mind churning. Why the hell were they here? Cromwell had better things to do with his navy than harass a few Spanish planters.
Whatever they want, he vowed to himself, they'll damn well have to fight for it.
"'Tis the most cursed sight I e'er laid eyes on." Guy Bartholomew had moved beside them. "Mayhaps that rumor about some fleet trying Santo Domingo was all too true. An' when they fail'd at that, they decided to pillage Jamaica instead."
Next to him was Timothy Farrell, spouting Irish oaths down on the ships. "Aye, by the Holy Virgin, but whatever happen'd, I'll wager you this—it's the last we're like to see of any ransom for the town." His eyes were desolate. "The damn'd English'll be havin' it all. They've never heard of dividing a thing fair and square, that I promise you."
"Well, they can't squeeze a town that's empty." Winston turned to Bartholomew. "So why don't we start by giving this navy a little token of our thanks. Set these Spaniards free to go back and help clear out Villa de la Vega. By the time the damn'd Roundheads get there, there'll be nothing to find save empty huts."
"Well, sir, it's a thought, I'll grant you. Else we could try and get over there first ourselves, to see if there's any gold left to be had. These Spaniards' Romanish churches are usually good for a few trinkets." Theboucanierlooked down again. A line of longboats was now edging across the bay below, headed for the shore beneath the fort. He glanced back at his men. "What say you, lads?"
"There's no point to it, Cap'n, as I'm a Christian." One of the grizzledboucaniersbehind him spoke up. "There're lads here aplenty who've sailed for the English navy in their time, an' I'm one of 'em. You can be sure we'd never get past those frigates with any Spanish gold. All we'd get is a rope if we tried riflin' the town now, or holdin' it for ransom. When an honest tar borrows a brass watch fob, he's hang'd for theft; when the generals steal a whole country, it's called the spoils of war. No sir, I've had all the acquaintance I expect to with so-called English law. I warrant the best thing we can do now is try getting out of here whilst we can, and let the whoresons have what they came to find. We took this place once, by God, and we can well do it again."
There was a murmur of concurrence from the others. Some experienced seamen were already eyeing the stone corridor, reflecting on the English navy's frequent practice of impressing any able-bodied man within reach whenever it needed replacements.
"Well, sir, there's some merit in what you say." Bartholomew nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe the wisest course right now is to try and get some canvas on our brigs before this navy starts to nose about our anchorage over at the other side of thecayo.
"That's the best, make nae mistake." The Scotsman MacEwen interjected nervously. "An' if these Spaniards care to trouble keeping the damn'd Roundheads entertained whilst we're doin' it, then I'd gladly hand them back every gunner here, with a skein of matchcord in the trade. Whatever's in the town can be damn'd."
"Then it's done." Winston motioned for the Spanish commander. Captain Juan Vicente de Padilla advanced hesitantly, renewed alarm in his dark eyes.
"Do you wish to receive my sword now, capitan?"
"No, you can keep it, and get the hell out of here. Go on back to Villa de la Vega and let your governor know the English navy's invaded."
"Capitan, I do not understand your meaning." He stood puzzling. "Your speech is Ingles, but you are not part of thosegaleonesdown below?"
"We're not English. And I can promise you this island
hasn't heard the last of us." Winston thumbed toward the corridor. "Now you'd best be out of here. I don't know how long those Roundheads expect to tarry."
With a bow of supreme relief, Captain de Padilla turned and summoned his men. In moments the Spanish gunners were jostling toward the corridor, each wanting to be the first to evacuate his family and wealth from Villa de la Vega.
"In God's name, Hugh, don't tell me you're thinking to just hand over this fort!" Katherine was still watching the shore below, where infantrymen were now forming ranks to begin marching up the slope. "I, for one, intend to stand and fight as long as there's powder and shot."
"Don't worry, we've got the heavy guns. And their damned warships are under them." He signaled to Tom Canninge, master gunner of theDefiance. "Have the boys prime and run out these culverin. We need to be ready."
"Good as done." Canninge shouted an order, and his men hurriedly began hauling the tackles left lying on the stone pavement by the Spanish gunners, rolling back the iron cannon to reload.
By now the infantry had begun advancing up the hill. Winston watched them long enough through the sparse trees to recognize Richard Morris at their head.
So we meet again, you Roundhead bastard. But this time / start out holding the ordnance.
"Masters, cover us with your muskets." He motioned for Katherine and together they started for the corridor. The hallway had grown lighter now, a pale gold in the early light of dawn. At the far end the heavy oak door had been left ajar by the departing Spanish gunners.
As they stepped into the sunshine, Atiba suddenly appeared beside them, concern on his face. "Senhor, I think it is no longer safe at the damnablevigiaon the hill. I must go back up there now."
"All right." Winston waved him on. "But see you're quick on it."
"I am a man of the mountains. When I wish, I can travel faster than a Spaniard with a horse." He began to sprint across the clearing, headed for the trees.
"Katy, hang on to this." Winston drew one of the pistols from his belt and handed it to her. "We'll talk first, but if we have to shoot, the main thing is to bring down Morris. That ought to scatter them."
As they rounded the corner of the fort. Colonel Richard Morris emerged through the trees opposite, leading a column of infantry. The commander froze when he saw them. He was raising his musket, preparing to give order to fire, when his face softened into a disbelieving grin.
"God's blood. Nobody told me you'd decided to join up with this assault." He examined them a moment longer, then glanced up at the breastwork, where a line of seamen had appeared, holding flintlocks. He stared a moment in confusion before looking back at Winston. "I suppose congratulations are in order. We had no idea 'twas you and your men who'd silenced their guns. You've doubtless saved us a hot ordnance battle. Bloody fine job, I must say." He lowered his musket and strode warily forward. "What have you done with all the Spaniards?"
"They're gone now." Winston's hand was on the pistol in his belt.
"Then the place is ours!" Morris turned and motioned the infantrymen forward. "Damned odd I didn't notice your . . . frigate in amongst our sail. We could've used you at Hispaniola." He tried to smile. "I'd say, sir, that an extra month's pay for you and your lads is in order, even though I take it you joined us late. I'll see to it myself."
"You can save your eighteen shillings. Colonel. We plan to hold this fort, and maybe the island to go with it. But you're free to rifle the town if you think you can still find anything."
"You plan to hold what, sir?" Morris took a cautious step backward.
"Where you're standing. It's called Jamaica. We got here first and we intend to keep however much of it strikes our fancy.''
"Well, sir, that's most irregular. I see you've still got all the brass I recall." He gripped the barrel of his musket. "I've already offered you a bonus for exceptional valor. But if you're thinking now to try and rebel against my command here, what you're more likely to earn is a rope around your neck."
Winston turned and yelled up to Canninge. "Tom, ready the guns and when I give the order, lay a few rounds across the quarterdeck of theRainboweanchored down there. Maybe it'll encourage Colonel Morris to reexamine the situation."
"Good God!" Morris paled. "Is this some kind of jest?"
"You can take whatever you want from the Spaniards. But this harbor's mine. That is, if you'd prefer keeping Cromwell's flagship afloat."
"This harbor?"
"That's right. We're keeping the harbor. And this fortress, till such time as we come to an understanding."
While Morris stared up again at the row of cannon, behind him the last contingent of infantry began to emerge through the trees. Leading it was Admiral Edmond Calvert, and beside him strode a heavyset man in a wide, dark hat. They moved through the row of silver-helmeted infantrymen, who parted deferentially for the admiral, headed toward Morris. They were halfway across the clearing before Benjamin Briggs noticed Katherine and Winston.
"What in the name of hell!" He stopped abruptly. "Have the both of you come back to be hanged like you merit?"
"I'd take care what you say, Master Briggs." Winston looked down the slope. "My lads up there might mistake your good humor."
Briggs glanced up uncertainly at the breastwork, then back.
"I'd like to know what lawless undertaking it is brings you two to this forsaken place?"
"You might try answering the same question."
"I'm here to look to English interests."
"I assume that means your personal interests. So we're probably here for much the same reason."
"I take it you two gentlemen are previously acquainted." Calvert moved cautiously forward. "Whatever your past cordiality, there'll be ample time to manage the disposition of this place after it's ours. We're dividing the skin before we've caught the fox. Besides, it's the Lord Protector who'll . . ."
There was a shout from the breastwork above, and Calvert paused to look up. Tom Canninge was standing beside one of the grey iron culverin, waving down at Winston.
"Cap'n, there's a mass of horsemen coming up the road from the town."
"Are they looking to counterattack?"
The gunner paused and studied the road. "From here I'd say not. They're travelin' slow, more just walkin' their mounts. An' there're a few blacks with them, who look to be carry in' some kind of hammock."
Now Morris was gazing warily down the road toward Villa de la Vega. He consulted briefly with Calvert, then ordered his men to take cover in the scattering of trees across the clearing.
Coming toward them was a row of Spanish horsemen, with long lances and silver-trimmed saddles, their mounts prancing deferentially behind a slow-moving cluster of men, all attired in the latest Seville finery. In the lead was an open litter, shaded from the sun by a velvet awning, with the poles at each of its four corners held shoulder high by an aged Negro wearing a blue silk loincloth.
Katherine heard a rustle at her elbow and turned to see the admiral bowing. "Edmond Calvert, madam, your servant." He quickly glanced again at the Spanish before continuing. "Colonel Morris just advised me you are Dalby Bedford's daughter. Please allow me to offer my condolences.”
She nodded lightly and said nothing, merely tightening her grip on the pistol she held. Calvert examined her a moment, then addressed Winston. "And I'm told that you, sir, were gunnery commander for Barbados."
Winston inspected him in silence.
Calvert cleared his throat. "Well, sir, if that's indeed who you are, I most certainly have cause to know you for a first-rate seaman. I take it you somehow managed to outsail the Gloucester." He continued guardedly. "You were a wanted man then, but after what's happened today, I think allowances can be made. In truth, I'd like to offer you a commission here and now if you'd care to serve under me."
"Accept my thanks, but I'm not looking for recruitment." Winston nodded, then turned back to study the approaching cavalry. "The 'commission' I plan to take is right here. And that's the two of us. Miss Bedford and I expect to make Jamaica home base."
Calvert smiled as he continued. "Well, sir, if you're thinking now you want to stay, there'll surely be a place for you here. I'll take odds the Spaniards are not going to let us commandeer this island without soon posting a fleet to try and recover it. Which means we've got to look to some defenses right away, possibly move a few of the culverin from theRainboweandMarsten Moorup here to the breastwork. There's plenty to . . ."
"What are you saying!" Katherine stared at him. "That you're going to try and hold Jamaica?"
"For England." He sobered. "I agree with you it'll not be an easy task, madam, but we expect to do our best, I give you my solemn word. Yes, indeed. And if you and the men with you care to assist us, I will so recommend it to His Highness. I fear we'll be wanting experienced gunners here, and soon."
While Katherine stood speechless, Benjamin Briggs edged next to them and whispered toward Calvert, "Admiral, you don't suppose we'd best look to our defenses, till we've found out what these damn'd Spaniards are about?"
"This can only be one thing, Mister Briggs. Some kind of attempt to try and negotiate." Calvert examined the procession again as it neared the edge of the clearing. "Not even Spaniards attack from a palanquin."
Now the approaching file was slowing to a halt. While the horsemen reined in to wait in the sunshine, one of the men who had been walking alongside the litter began to converse solemnly with a shadowed figure beneath its awning. Finally he reached in and received a long silk-wrapped bundle, then stepped around the bearers and headed toward them.
He was wearing a velvet waistcoat and plumed hat, and as he approached the four figures standing by the breastwork, he appeared momentarily disoriented. His olive skin looked sallow in the early light and his heavy moustache drooped. Finally he stopped a few feet away and addressed them collectively.
"I am Antonio de Medina, lieutenant-general to our governor, don Francisco de Castilla, who has come to meet you. He regrets that his indisposition does not permit him to tender you his sword from his own hand." He paused and glanced back at the litter. An arm emerged feebly and waved him on. "His Excellency has been fully advised of the situation, and he is here personally to enquire your business. If it is ransom you wish to claim, he would have me remind you we are but a poor people, possessing little wealth save our honesty and good name."
"I am Admiral Edmond Calvert, and I receive his greeting in the name of England's Lord Protector." Calvert was studying the shrouded litter with puzzlement. "Furthermore, you may advise don Francisco de Castilla that we've not come for ransom. We're here to claim this island in the name of His Highness Oliver Cromwell. For England."
"Senor, I do not understand." Medina's brow wrinkled. "Inglesgaleonessuch as yours have come in times past, and we have always raised the ransom they required, no matter how difficult for us. We will . . ."
"This time, sir, it's going to be a different arrangement." Briggs stepped forward. "He's telling you we're here to stay. Pass that along to your governor.''
"But you cannot just claim this island, senor." Medina examined Briggs with disbelief. "It has belonged to Spain for a hundred and forty years."
"Where's your bill of sale, by God? We say it belongs to whoever's got the brass to seize hold of it. Spaniards took half the Americas from the heathen; now it's England's turn."
"But this island was granted to our king by His Holiness the Pope, in Rome."
"Aye, your Pope's ever been free to dispense lands he never owned in the first place." Briggs smiled broadly. "I seem to recall back in King Harry's time he offered England to anybody who'd invade us, but none of your Papist kings troubled to take up his gift." He sobered. "This island's English, as of today, and damned to your Purple Whore of Rome."
"Senor, protestante blasphemies will not . . ."
"Take care, Master Briggs." Winston's voice cut between them. "Don't be so quick to assume England has it. At the moment it looks like this fortress belongs to me and my men."
"Well, sir, if you're thinking to try and steal something from this place, which now belongs to England, I'd be pleased to hear how you expect to manage it."
"I don't care to steal a thing. I've already got what I want. While we've been talking, my lads down on theDefiancewere off-loading culverin there at the Cayo de Carena. On the Point. As of now, any bottom that tries to enter, or leave, this harbor is going to have to sail under them. So the harbor's mine, including what's in it at the moment. Not to mention this fort as well."
"Perhaps you'd best tell me what you have in mind, sir." Calvert glanced up at the breastwork, its iron cannon now all directed on the anchored ships below.
"We might consider an arrangement." Winston paused, then looked down at the bay.
"What do you mean?"
"These men sailing with me areboucaniers, Cow-Killers to you, and we need this harbor. In future, we intend sailing from Jamaica, from right over there, at the Point. There'll be a freeport there, for anybody who wants to join with us."
"Are you saying you mean to settle down there on the Point, with these buccaneers?" Calvert was trying to comprehend what he was hearing. Could it be that, along with Jamaica, Cromwell was going to get armed ships, manned by the only men in the Caribbean feared by the Spaniards, for nothing?
Perhaps it might even mean Jamaica could be kept. The Western Design might end up with something after all . . .
"Well, sir, in truth, this island's going to be needing all the fighting men it can muster if it's to defend itself from the Spaniards." Calvert turned to Briggs. "If these buccaneers of his want to headquarter here, it could well be a godsend."
"You'd countenance turning over the safety of this place to a band of rogues?" Briggs' face began to grow dark with a realization. "Hold a minute, sir. Are you meanin' to suggest Cromwell won't trouble providing this island with naval protection?"
"His Highness will doubtless act in what he considers to be England's best interest, Mister Briggs, but I fear he'll not be too anxious to expend revenues fortifying and patrolling an empty Spanish island. I wouldn't expect to see the English navy around here, if that's what you're thinking."
"But this island's got to have defenses. It's not the same as Barbados. Over there we were hundreds of leagues to windward. And the Spaniards never cared about it in the first place. But Jamaica's different. It's right on the Windward Passage. You've got to keep an armed fleet and some fortifications here or the Spaniards'll just come and take the place back whenever they have a mind."
"Then you'd best start thinking about how you'd plan to arrange for it." Calvert turned back to Medina. "Kindly advise His Excellency I wish to speak with him directly."
The lieutenant-general bowed and nervously returned to the litter. After consulting inside for a moment, he ordered the bearers to move it forward.
What they saw was a small, shriveled man, bald and all but consumed with venereal pox. He carefully shaded his yellow eyes from the morning sun as he peered out.
"As I have said, Excellency, we are pleased to acknowledge your welcome," Calvert addressed him. "For the time we will abstain from sacking Villa de la Vega, in return for which courtesy you will immediately supply our fleet with three hundred head of fat cattle for feeding our men, together with cassava bread and other comestibles as we may require."
After a quick exchange, Medina looked back, troubled. "His Excellency replies he has no choice but to comply."
"Fine. But I'm not quite finished. Be it also known without any mistaking that we have hereby taken charge of the island of Jamaica. I expect to send you the terms to sign tomorrow morning, officially surrendering it to England."
Winston stepped forward and faced Medina. "You can also advise His Excellency there'll be another item in the terms. Those slaves standing there, and all others on the island, are going to be made free men."
"Senor, all the negros on this island have already been set free, by His Excellency's proclamation this very morning. To help us resist. Do you think we are fools? Our negros arecatolico. They and our Maroons will stand with us if we have to drive youprotestanteheretics from this island."
"Maroons?" Calvert studied him.
"Si. that is the name of the free negros who live here, in the mountains." He approached Calvert. "And know this, Ingles. They are no longer alone. The king of Spain will not let you steal this island, and we will not either. Even now, our people in Villa de la Vega have taken all their belongings and left for the mountains also. We will wage war on you from there forever if need be. You may try to steal this island, against the laws of God, but if you do, our people will empty theirhatosand drive their cattle into the hills. Your army will starve. This island will become your coffin, we promise you."