Zealand

29. Of Wisdom and Wits

While Captain and Mister Gilbert shook hands, I mused. Aha! So, his name is William. What a fine one that is. But it is mine only to know, not to use. He is to be addressed as Captain. Other elders are to be addressed by title and surname until I reach majority, he had said. 

I still need to find a surname for myself – or do I not? The King uses his title and given name – no surname. Might I do that, as well? Hmmm! Mister Charles does sound good. I chuckled to myself. Better than Mister Bethy's son, though...

Captain's words brought me from my thoughts, "What is your sea experience, Frederick?"

"I was six years in His Majesty's Navy, sir – a lieutenant awaiting post. Then two years past, Baron Montford enticed me to join him as his first officer, venturing with the King's letter against Spanish shipping."

"Against the Spanish?"

"Aye, sir. Though we had not long arrived in the Caribbean when we learnt of the current war, so our game turned to the French and the Dutch."

"And with success, it appears – able to bid two thousand and four hundred."

"That stretched my limit, sir. Had I continued higher, I would have been left insufficient to repair and store her and still have a small purse for fate." He shrugged. "It is unwise to sail ill-prepared."

"Indeed. I like such wisdom." Captain pointed toward Mister Pett and those with him. "I must make arrangements to pay for my purchases and to order the commencement of work."

Mister Gilbert nodded. "Yes, many other matters first. I shall leave you with it, sir."

"Or accompany me – if we are to work together, it might be best that you are aware of what we are about from the beginning."

"I appreciate your wisdom, sir."

"And I yours for recognising it."

I followed Captain and Mister Gilbert, pleased I understood not only their words but also the polite manner Mother had explained to me. Show respect to receive respect. Then, as we neared the small group, Mister Pett extended his hand. "Well bought, Captain Bryson. Shall we repair[1] to the warmth of my office to tend affairs?"

While we walked across the yard, Captain talked with the others beyond my ears, then as we neared the office door, he directed me aside, away from the group. In a quiet voice, he said, "Pouch[2] these keys, lad, and hie thee home. From my hide, count one thousand into each of five small hempen[3] bags, that we are ready for the carriage when it arrives."

"Aye, sir. Five bags of a thousand. Should I count two hundred and sixty less into the fifth?"[4]

He chuckled. "You and the numbers in your head, lad. But nay, all five a thousand. I shall explain later."

"Aye, sir."

As I headed toward the gate, I re-cyphered the number of guineas needed to make five thousand, four hundred and fifty pounds, arriving at the same figure. He said he would explain. But was it my place to question? It was not like an order aboard Bessy that I am not to question. Rather, I was stating a different understanding – and aside from his command of the barge, he wants me to do that.

After more glances at the ships, I greeted the guards as I passed the gate, then a short distance along, I paused to look back through the arch and admire them one more time. He now has another captain, but they each need another for at night. And which ship will my captain choose? Zealand with forty-two big guns or Delfe with forty-eight smaller ones? But as with the pistols, they are not to fire – only to daunt unless...

"Fine ships, they be, boy." I startled at a voice beside me, and I turned to see two boys, bigger and older than me.

"Aye. Indeed they are, and I ponder which is the finer of the pair."

"Them's haughty words from a young 'un."

"Right proper like," The taller one said as he fingered the lapets of my cloak. "And the haughty finery ye've got on."

"Might ye spare some farthings?" the other asked.

Memories of begging filled my mind. Then images of the older boys cutting purses when they were revealed. Fleeing with them. "Would that I could, but I have none to spare."

The taller one tilted his head toward the gate as he grasped my lapets. "The good captain gave yee some, and 'tis in yer purse."

"It is all committed – not any to spare."

The shorter one drew a knife from beneath his jerkin. "Tis as easy to cut yer gullet[5] as yer purse."

What now? Captain's tales of feints and ruses flashed through my mind, and I nodded toward the guardhouse. "And it is easier still for the guards to shoot musket balls through those loopholes[6] and into your heads."

I breathed a quiet sigh as my lapets were released, then I turned and ran.

Notes:
[1] Repair in this context means to go to a specified place or to betake oneself.
[2] To put in a pouch or pocket.
[3] Hempen is the adjective form of hemp, from which early canvas was made. The word canvas comes from cannabis.
[4] Here, Charles has apparently calculated the total bids and converted the guineas to pounds at twenty-three shillings each.
[5] Gullet means throat.
[6] Loopholes at that time were slits in fortification walls, initially to allow shooting arrows and later firing muskets and cannons.