CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The fleet maintained the techniques they had previously used as they had served them well. Fial was a man of his word and was now hunting enemy ships of the realm. They assumed formation in line abreast of each other, the six ships of each group staying in line and sight of other groups on the horizon. This gave them a search area covering around fifteen miles port and starboard of their heading. Each flagship had been armed with Congreve Rockets, not only for attack but signalling should they encounter a sighting.
As the fleet approached the gap between Land’s End and the Isle of Scilly the westernmost line was headed by the Conquistador. Captain Louis Zachariah, two miles off the coast of Scilly, put up a rocket signal spotting sails to the western horizon on the seaward side of the island. The fleet had been tackling a head wind and the going was slow. Fial could just see the rocket crest the sky from his position north of the fleet and scanned the western horizon, spotting the top of a mast with his long glass. The ship appeared to be also heading north on the western side of the Isle of Scilly, some miles to their west. Fial put about as darkness began to close in to investigate picking up speed in full sail with the wind. The fleet maintained heading awaiting the results of Fial's interception.
Light was fading but Fial could make out the American flag at the bow of the lead ship. They were four merchant ships, one being armed, flying the American flag. Fial was aware that America had fought the Quasi-War with France until 1800 and was now an unofficial ally of the British. He also had knowledge of civil unrest in America and unrest with the south confederate states and Mexico. He had little to do with American sea power as it was so limited but he was keen to find out where so many African slaves were being shipped to. He tagged the ships until dawn.
By dawn Fial's fleet was clearly visible to the American ships and the flagship’s captain had a British navigator aboard. Captain Clinton Adams had the navigator identify the Ghost and its fleet; Adams was owner of the ships which were part of his import export business operating from Washington. Adams had heard of McMurrin and had his ships lay sail at first light, slowing to a crawl. Having no intention of engaging him he raised a flag of truce.
Fial observed the ships conduct and shot passed the bow of the lead ship the Philadelphia Queen to check on its status. The crew on her quarterdeck remained at ease waving as he went passed. Fial was impressed, not only by the air of ease but the lines of the ship which were unlike those of the British fleet and more like the lines of the Ghost. He turned and drew along her starboard bow, his guns poised to strike, requesting a meeting with the captain. The captain accepted and hooks and lines were exchanged bringing the ships together. Fial and Bongo climbed aboard the Philadelphia and he shook hands with Adams. Adams had hidden his black deck hands fearing Fial would confuse them as slaves and was aghast at the armaments Fial carried on his person.
"Fial McMurrin of the Irish navy sir," said Fial. Adams has difficulty with Fial's Irish accent. "I am impressed by your fine ship, thin lines, deep keel and wide sail. She must be fast."
"Clinton Adams, Washington Import company, captain and owner of these ships. Thank you for your kind words. She is from the same yard as your ship. I can outrun the French privateers with relative ease. I have heard of the legend, now I meet one, truly inspiring. The Ghost, I never thought I would lay my own eyes on her."
"And what have you heard of us?"
"Scourge of all you confront, enemy to all and friend to none. The most feared pirate that sails the sea. Supporter of the black slave, enemy of all who would enslave a person. Admiral of the most powerful fleet of privateers that has ever been mustered. Tell me did you really attack San Sebastian and Brest?"
Fial cracked a big smile. "A man with no fear who makes things plain, that I can deal with. Yes we did attack the French ports you mention but just the once. I don't think I will get away with it again."
Adams smiled. "A man of my own heart. It is said you were at the Battle of Trafalgar aboard the Victory next to Nelson."
"Yes."
"What kind of man was Nelson?"
"A fine seaman, a brave man, and a man the British should have listened to before they lost so much. However he had little heart for the normal working men. He looked upon them all as slaves but I still would have given my life for him."
Adams walked to a table on the quarterdeck and waved his hand above a seat. "Please be seated, bring food and drink for our visitors." They sat down as black women brought a tray of bread and wine from the galley.
"You have black crew?" asked Fial.
"Yes. I have been concerned at what you would think."
"I have black crew myself, the best you could wish for."
"I agree, some of my best deck men are black African."
"How long have you had these men?" asked Bongo.
Adams was surprised at how well Bongo spoke English. "A few years now," replied Adams. "An educated African is rare."
"All my crew speak English well because they were given the chance to. Allow your crew to learn and it will happen. I can also speak their tongue. It will be of great value should I deal with their kind," said Fial.
"Where are you headed?" asked Adams.
"The south Irish coast; we hear of French warships in the area."
"I saw four frigates two days ago fifty miles off the coast of Brest, they were heading this direction. I chose to clip the coast of England and Ireland, more chance of help should we run into trouble and it was a good thing I did. They were west of me avoiding the coast, conduct of a calculated naval manoeuvre."
"They could be ships of the line or traders like you."
"They were French men of war and made no attempt to give chase. Seems they were pre-occupied. We’re carrying palm oil, silk, silver, gold, wine, grain and animal furs to name just some. If they’re heading for America they must be mad.
"No they are not mad, they are not aware we have sailed. The British navy did not know we sailed."
"Then there’s something far more important in Ireland than French ships."
Fial nodded. "Indeed there is." Berry the cabin boy had ventured onto the deck of the Ghost and sat playing his banjo. The black woman tending the galley on the Philadelphia dropped her tray and ran to the railing, shouting out.
"Can you tell what she is saying?" asked Adams.
Fial stood up. "Yes, she says the boy is her son." Berry ran to the Ghost railing, holding out his hands and yelling. "The boy is calling her mother. Where did you get her?"
"From one of the Corsican Ricard brothers. She was a cook on his ship, she’s been with me for some years now. Ricard wanted a French captive I had and it was a good trade, she is an excellent hand."
Fial beckoned Berry onto the ship and once aboard he ran to the woman and they embraced. Bongo spoke to the woman, then to Fial.
"It is her son. He could play a banjo by the time he was two. It was how they stayed alive in a slave factory, playing and cooking and being picked up by passing ships as crew members. Voodoo follows them; black magic brings them back together."
Adams looked puzzled. "Black magic, voodoo… I have heard of these things. I cannot believe it has anything to do with that, just chance."
Fial looked at Adams pessimistically. "I asked a priest who taught me at school what I had to do to be a Christian. He said all you have to do is believe. I believed I could attack the French ports of San Sebastian and Brest, the French didn't."
"That's a damn good point, I have no answer."
"I have been with these people for some time now. I am convinced we have something around us, an invisible force or spirit. We don't know what to do with it but they do."
Adams squinted his eyes. "I have seen them survive terrible hardship and say nothing, just keep going. I have to think about this."
"Where are you taking the woman?” asked Fial.
"I have farms in St Louis Missouri and Mississippi. They’ll work on the plantations there in supplied quarters making the
ir own lives as well as working. I always check the ability and allegiance of my workers before I grant them this status. She’ll be cooking for field workers along the Mississippi river plantations. Our plantations are going well, they have developed a language to be able to communicate with each other no matter where they’re from. They call it Gullah."
"This interests me, even in a foreign land we adapt. This is the first I have heard of successful relocation of these people, you are a wise man. If I give you the boy would you make sure he is all right? He plays that banjo like I have never heard before. In years to come it may go somewhere."
"I heard him playing earlier, sort of a strange rocking and rolling with the waves."
"Yes he is a fine boy, never stops playing or working. He sings too. I heard him yesterday singing about a woman, Madeline or something. He may rub off on his family should he have one and go somewhere, who knows."
"What's his name?"
"Ah bit of a mix up. His name was Berry but we chucked him in with Bongo as we had little room so he got to be called Chuck Berry."
"What a stupid name, can't see that going anywhere; he needs to change it. Yeah I will take him on and make sure he's fine."
"His mother will be forever your most loyal servant now."
"I was thinking the same thing."
Fial looked to the sky. "The weather is turning, best we part company before the coming storm damages the ships." He grabbed Berry and shook him with a wide smile. "Go west young man and prosper, something looks over you my boy." Berry smiled, clutching his mother with one hand and his banjo with the other. Fial turned to Adams. "Something brought us together, now something is parting us, so be it."
Bongo and Fial climbed aboard the Ghost, cast off and the ships made sail.