Pistoleer: Pirates Page 4

  "Then I will be glad to carry some,” Robert replied, immediately taking a liking to this man for coming to rescue these folk from assured slavery, even though he was a 'black robe' Catholic. "Anything to help get these poor folk away from this evil place."

  "My sentiments exactly,” the monk replied and then turned and went to arrange the split in passengers with his Spanish crew. They were patiently waiting for him beside a number of local rowing skiffs that had gathered to carry and fetch for the larger ships anchored off the beach.

  The girl screamed and pointed. Men from the slave market were moving towards the monk, and they were carrying bush knives and cudgels. Robert called to Daniel and his men to stand between the mob and the monk, and to draw and cock their pistols but not to shoot. The sight of six men armed with a dozen pistols stopped the leaders of the mob in their tracks, but there were other men now coming to join them from down the beach.

  "I wonder if they are angry with our arrangement?" the monk told Robert. "Perhaps they were counting on my overloaded yacht to become their next victim. I did wonder why they let me buy so many for so little. Could it be that by tomorrow we would all have been for sale, including my yacht?"

  The Spanish ship was the yacht anchored beside the Swift. It was much small than the Swift, and the men still on it were looking towards the beach, and aiming muskets this way, but they were out of range. "Monk,” Robert called out in Dutch. "Get your folk into the skiffs and take everyone to my ship. We will keep you covered until the skiffs are in deep water, and then we will follow. And hurry dammit."

  The six of them from the Swift stood in a line up to their knees in the water, and with their own boat floating close behind them. Everyone else, including Weston, went with the monk and climbed into the local skiffs. Once they were loaded the monk told the skiffmen to take them to the galliot. His order was ignored.

  It was obvious whose side the skiffmen were on, so Robert called out his own order. He told the skiffmen to hand their oars to the passengers and get out of the skiffs. His order was also ignored. The larger mob was still coming along the beach and getting closer, so those already close by were becoming braver and moving closer.

  "Rod,” Daniel called to the crewman closest to a skiff, and in a voice loud enough for all of the skiffmen to hear. "Shoot any effing skiffman who is still in his skiff once I've put a hole in this bastards head." With that he raised and aimed his pistol and walked forward a pace towards the man leading the closest of the mob. Behind him he could hear the curses and splashes of the skiffmen as they stepped out of their skiffs and waded towards the beach.

  He took note that this motley mix of desperate men from all over Europe, all seemed to understand simple English. Just to be sure he repeated it in Dutch, the language of trade. Then the monk called something out in Spanish, and then French, but Daniel was too busy watching a man's forehead to try to translate the words.

  The man in front of his pistol had seen the skiffmen back down, and now he carefully began to back away from the aimed pistol, and he spoke calming words to Daniel in French. These were tense moments and Daniel could feel an ache in the muscles in his raised arm, and hand, and trigger finger.

  Thankfully there was a call from the Robert that the skiffs had reached water over six feet deep. One by one Robert and his men climbed into their own boat. The first two each put down their dragons onto the bench so that they could pick up the oars. Once the oars were in place, they covered the next man in, and then the others while they climbed aboard. Then there was only Daniel on the beach, but now he was facing the original mob of ten plus the twenty who had joined them. He backed slowly into the water towards the boat and felt for it with his bum.

  "Cock yer dragons,” Robert hissed to his men. Dragons were the weapon of choice for pistoleers and Robert and Daniel had both served as pistoleers in the Dutch militia. Each of the crew had at one time or another been trained by Robert as a Dutch style Pistoleer. Each of them now kept one hand on their oar, while they set down their killing pistol, and picked up and cocked their dragon.

  Instead of being loaded with a single pistol ball, their large bored dragons were loaded with a mix of bird shot, and lye, and sulphur. It was a Pistoleer tactic to use the dragons to cause confusion, for the dragon's fiery breath spread a stinging smoke that could blind a group of men with one shot. It was a short range weapon with a wide spread, which is why they also carried a normal pistol for more precise work.

  As soon as Daniel had his bum on the gunnels and his feet out of the water, he yelled "Row us out of here, and make some smoke!" then he fired his own dragon at the faces of the closest of the mob. He heard some other explosions, and while his ears were still ringing, some more. The mob had disappeared into a grey brown fog of stinging smoke and bird shot, and there were men screaming, and men throwing themselves and their faces into the water to stop the stinging and burning.

  With his dragon spent, Daniel aimed his killing pistol towards the men thrashing in the water, just in case any of them charged the boat. Robert did the same, while the rest of the crew pulled on oars. Not one man got up out of the water and charged them. Moments later the caught up to the skiffs that were making their way towards the Swift. Once at the ship, everyone climbed aboard her, except for the monk's four Spaniards. They were part of the yacht's crew who had been doing the rowing on each skiff. Those four Spaniards now all clamboured into one skiff and set the rest adrift.

  When Robert had offered to carry everyone, he had not expected Weston or the monk to come aboard with the rest. It was now the monk's strong right hand which grabbed his and hauled him over the gunnels and onto the deck of the Swift. So be it. If the monk wanted to stay close to his new wards, then why should he complain.

  Daniel did complain that Weston and his plague had come back aboard, but the monk assured him that in his thirty years of treating malaria, he had never known it to be passed from patient to nurse. Weston ignored Daniel's complaint as he clamboured forward to take his pilot's position in the bow. Once Weston was at the other end of the ship and making himself useful, Daniel calmed down. Not so Edward. He and the other Brownist passengers were incensed that a papist monk was being welcomed aboard.

  "Cannot you see by his black robe that he is a Jesuit of the Society of Jesus?" Edward fumed. "He is probably a member of the court of inquisition. The inquisition is the enemy of every good protestant, and doubly so for we Separatists."

  "But he seems so nice,” Robert said trying to calm Edward's angry words. "He just bought these folks to save them from pirates and slavery."

  "He has bought them to sell them for a profit,” Edward hissed, "but only after he has tortured them into converting to Catholicism."

  The monk had heard all of this, and seemed to understand enough English to fathom the meaning. He replied in his attractively accented Dutch, "I abhor the inquisition as much as thee. True, I do try to convert lost souls to the true faith, but by feeding them, and by healing them, and by giving them sanctuary. I suppose you would say that I convert them by torturing them with kindness. Besides, a dozen of these poor souls are already Catholic, which is what brought me to today's market in the first place."

  The rest of the crew was ignoring the silly arguement over religion. They were too busy with rigging and oars and anchor lines, and hurrying with them because the Spanish yacht was preparing to leave. The yacht would lead the Swift safely away from Gran Bajamar through the reef channels, and the sooner they were away from this dangerous place filled with desperate men, the better. Once the anchors were lifted and the bow swung around to follow, the monk interrupted Edward's tirade long enough to lean against gunnels and hail his own yacht.

  "We will not be following you to Santa Lucia!" the monk yelled to them. "This ship is large enough to sail directly to San Agustin. We will meet you there." The Spanish commander waved his understanding. The monk turned to Daniel at the wheel and asked him to stop following the yacht to the west, and instead set a co
urse north by west. He added, "There are no more reefs after this one, so you can have your oarsmen stand easy and use your sails instead."

  Despite his distrust of Weston, Daniel trusted the monk even less, so he motioned Weston to join him at the wheel so he could confirm the monk's words. While he waited for Weston to come back from the bow, he asked the monk, "So why is your ship not making for San Agustin with us?"

  "That is a patrol ship. Their duty is to patrol the inside passage, not the Florida coast,” At the questioning look from Daniel, the monk continued, "The true coast of Florida is protected from storm surges by long chains of sand bar islands. There is a continuous channel behind the islands that our local trading ships use rather than sailing offshore. It will take that patrol ship almost a week to reach San Agustin, whereas on a northwest course this ship will arrive there by tomorrow or the morning after."

  With the Spanish yacht breaking away from the channel and into deep water, and with the Swift now almost clear of the channel, that left a half a dozen scruffy, shallow draught ships still anchored in the channel. None of them were as large as the Swift, and only two of them of a size that could cause trouble for the Spanish yacht. Some of the gunners were still standing watch beside their loaded six pounders, and they waved at Robert to catch his attention, and then pointed to the cannons and to the two largest pirate ships. The shrug of their shoulders carried their meaning.

  "You are right,” Robert called back to them. "Rather than unloading those beasts, why don't you make sure the two larger ships don't follow us." He left the gunners to it while he went to help Daniel with the wheel. A moment later the gunner called to Daniel to hold the course steady, and then the two cannons boomed and smoked, and some of the women screamed at the loudness. At such close range on such calm water, there was no need to worry about range. The two balls left the two cannons and traveled horizontally less than two hundred yards and smashed the rudders of the two ships.

  Robert stared out over at the damage and yelled a compliment to the gunners, but then lowered his voice to tell Daniel, "Well I suppose that means we aren't coming back to Gran Bajamar any time soon." The thought was echoed by a hail of cheers from the Spanish patrol yacht now sailing away from them to the west.

  Once the echo of the shots had stopped ringing in their ears, and the gun smoke had stopped making them cough, the monk walked over to Edward and said in poor and halting English, "Master Edward, I interrupted what you were telling me, and for that I am sorry. If you wish to continue perhaps we can first make ourselves comfortable, and ask the captain to translate your English into Dutch for me."

  Robert groaned. Translating an arguement between two religious zealots was not how he had expected to spend the afternoon. He went and asked Anna to make their new passengers comfortable, especially the ragged girl. With that task in capable hands, he made himself comfortable in the shade sitting between these two men of God.

  Both of these zealots were well spoken, and before long they had an audience of some of the passengers, the Brownist passengers, zealots all. After some false starts, Robert had found the rhythm of translation, and because of the delay in translation, the arguements on both sides were calmer and better thought out. Edward had produced his bible and was thumping it as he quoted scripture.

  Through Robert, Ignacio replied, "Those ancient scriptures were originally written in Aramaic, the root language of Hebrew and Arabic. Believe me, I know this. I have been in the Vatican's forbidden library. The Aramaic version was translated into Hebrew, and that into Greek, and that into Latin, and that into all of the Germanic languages.

  With each translation, there were interpretations. Words were mistranslated, or changed, or added, or removed. Entire scriptures were removed. At each translation there was added the bias of those who paid for the translations. Think of it, Edward. The version of the bible that you are quoting to me as God's words, is from the translation furthest from the original scriptures."

  Edward didn't know what to say. Robert smiled at the short quiet. The Pilgrim preacher had met his match in this eloquent and learned Jesuit. "But some things, the important things, will not have changed,” was the best that Edward could think of to say.

  "Like the eight or nine or ten commandments?" Ignacio words were as gentle as his smile. "Does your bible say 'Thou shalt not kill', or 'You shall not commit murder', for there is a great difference. I know of monks that sweep insects away from their feet so that they will not kill them. The original Aramaic words were 'You shall not allow murder'. That is so much stronger than 'You shall not commit murder' don't you think? It requires you to stop anyone else from committing murder."

  "I like that. I like that a lot,” Daniel called out from the wheel. "It would stop the nobility from hiring others to do their murdering for them."

  Edward held up his bible and was about to quote it again, but Ignacio interrupted him. "One commandment that has not changed in meaning is 'You shall not use Jehovah's name in vain'. When you tell me that your bible is the word of God, you are breaking that commandment."

  "You say this to me?" Edward seethed. "You a Catholic idolater who allows a pantheon of angels and saints and their statues to be worshipped in your churches."

  "It is true that the original scriptures say that you shall not worship idols, and I must admit that the statuary in my church does look like idolatry, however the original scriptures also say that you shall put no other gods before Jehovah. These words do not forbid the worship of lesser gods and goddesses, so long as Jehovah remains greater than all others. My church has always welcomed the lesser gods of pagan folk into our churches because doing so encourages them to come and pray to Jehovah, the one true god.

  Have you ever been to Mexico? No. A pity. The native women there all worship the great green goddess of fertility, so we have moved their goddess into our churches, and reshaped her to look like the Blessed Virgin, and now those women come to our church to pray to their green goddess, and have become Christians, and now also pray to the almighty Jehovah. Eventually the green goddess statues will disappear from Mexican churches, and those missionaries who erected them will be forgiven their harmless ruse."

  "So you admit idolatry?" Edward held up his hands as if he had scored in a football match.

  "I admit to slowly phasing out the idols of paganism, yes. Is that the same thing? Perhaps."

  "Of course it is the same. Your alter, your crosses, even they are idols to which you bow and pray."

  "And so is your bible an idol," Ignatius laughed. Robert saw how much these two learned men were enjoying the twisting of words in their foolish debate, so he quit as their interpreter, and waved to Rod to take his place. Rod stalled, while pretending to lengthen the tow rope of their jolly boat. Eventually he replaced Robert in the shady place between the two holy men and sighed and listened to their words and attempted the translation.

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  The Pistoleer - Pirates by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14

  Chapter 3 - The Floridas in June 1641

  As the Swift sailed between the two sand islands and into Matanzas Bay to reach the port of San Agustin, Robert could see clearly the waterways that ran north and south behind the barrier islands. Of course they would be used by local small boat traffic. "What is a matanzas?" he asked of Ignacio. "Are those the warm water seals that we have been told about."

  "No, the creatures you speak of are Manatees,” Ignacio replied. "Matanzas is our word for slaughter. Some French Huguenots were the original settlers here at San Agustin. When the Spanish fleet decided to build a fort here to protect the waterway, they slaughtered those poor Huguenots. It was a mistake to slaughter them, for that slaughter has been repaid in kind many times since then. The last time was by your own Admiral Francis Drake. Needless to say that English ships are not welcome in this port."

  "Are you saying it is not safe for us here? Should we put you and yours ashore away from the port, and then leave?"


  "I will vouchsafe for you. Your ship will be safe, though perhaps your men should stay clear of the drinking houses."

  As the settlement came into sight, the crew and passengers were amazed. It made the ones on Barbados and Kitts seem primitive and poor. There was a palisade with cannons guarding the port and some earthworks topped by another palisade ringing the town. In the town there was a large stone church, and many other buildings of stone and brick and tile. Even those buildings made of wood and mud brick were spacious and multi storied and solid..

  "And what do they grow here?" Daniel asked. "What is there to trade for."

  "We are too far north for coconuts and sugar, if that is what you mean," Ignacio replied. "The natives hunt and fish. We grow enough to feed ourselves, but not much more."

  The news that they were now too far north for coconuts saddened Daniel. He had been counting on coconuts to be a mainstay of his clan's self sufficiency on whatever island he chose. From now on, he would have to look for other bounties to take the place of that wondrous tree-of-life. "I meant, what do you grow for trade? Tobacco?"

  "Oh, nothing really. This is more of a military post than a colony," Ignacio replied. "That is why it is so small. We are here to protect the Spanish shipping. Besides which, the Spanish that seek their fortunes in the Americas do not want to work for it. They want to sit drinking wine in their haciendas and order the natives to do all the work. The natives around San Agustin don't like doing the work of others. That is why I went to collect these folk from Gran Bajamar. Twenty new people to do the work."

  "You told me they would not be sold as slaves,” Robert said accusingly.