CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Fial, Bongo and Belgarde walked through the bustling streets of Viana do Castelo looking for a church. The streets were busy and many British soldiers were in street taverns drinking. Street markets laden with fresh produce with stall holders bartering with all. Fial had brought Belgarde along as he could speak Spanish, a language he was poor at. The street vendors were poorly-dressed, looked tired and generally gave the impression of bad health.
The smells changed dramatically as they passed different areas of the town. Taverns wafted the smell of rum through the air, something Fial had learnt to detest as it was given to sailors prior to going into battle and he associated the smell with horrific bloodshed and loss of life. He had long banned the use of the beverage on his vessel after finding sugar produced by black slave workers was used in the making of rum. Rum drinking however was common on the rest of his fleet.
They passed many beggars in ragged clothing, some children, signs he thought of the onslaught of war; hands outstretched for a copper to acquire sustenance for the day. He gave generously at first but the throngs of poor kept coming wherever they went. Portuguese and British soldiers looked at them sideways, especially at Bongo. Fial realised they had probably never seen an armed black walking the streets before with muskets in full view on his body.
He had found no church and got Belgarde to ask a fruit stall holder where he could find the clergy. After a lengthy conversation that Fial did not understand Belgarde informed him there was a church some half a mile ahead on the outskirts of town. He had been told they would find no clergy there as they lived in the big mansions above the church overlooking the town. The stall holder's father once owned the land but he was tried by the local officials of the Spanish Inquisition and accused of being a heretic some years ago and burnt to death. All his father’s property was seized by the church and the stall holder was permitted to work the land, having to give over half his income to the church for the privilege.
Fial became aware of the power of the church under such circumstances by asking further questions. The more he heard the more agitated he became. Although the practice of the inquisitions was under siege the war had disrupted stable government in the area and advantage was being taken of the situation. Napoleon was also opposed to the practices of the inquisitions and moved to outlaw them in France, but the war was blocking any unilateral move regarding the practice. Fial headed for the church to see things for himself.
The architecture of the town differed a lot but Fial was familiar with the new Palladian buildings seen in England, this however did not help a feeling of unease among the Roman stone and Spanish colonial terraces. His vision of a church was completely distorted as he looked up the tall spires of what he would call a monster cathedral. As they approached the building there was a distinct lack of people bartering, begging or doing anything else. They were stopped in the lavish entrance way between the colossal fortified doors by what appeared to be members of the clergy wearing long red and white gowns. They ordered Fial to remove himself from the building. Fial did not understand the conversation with Belgarde but Fial could see it had turned into a confrontation by the raised voices.
Belgarde told Fial they were not permitted in the church, especially with a black man and they would need permission from the bishop. Fial had enough and pushed his way passed them, one falling to the floor as he entered the main hall. Fial had not seen such a building apart from the major cathedrals in London. Rows and rows of solid oak benches either side of the wide aisle lead up to the raised altar on three different levels but he could not see the detail as he was so far away. It was obvious that the hardware and fittings were gold. There was a table to his left upon which were several goblets. He picked one up looking beneath the base, seeing the hallmark of Spanish goldsmiths. He smashed the utensil back on the table and burst outside. The two clergy had run off in the direction of the grandiose mansions above the church. Fial walked among the graves in the grounds, reading the headstones. He could not find one person who appeared to be a common member of the town's population.
The two clergy returned with another in a pure white flowing robe and tall hat with flowing tail. His robe and headdress was encrusted with gold embroidery. He was flanked by two soldiers wearing armour. Fial did not recognise the uniforms and drew his pistols holding them by his side. The clergyman spoke English with a broad Spanish accent and spoke to Fial when in earshot.
"Who are you and why do you desecrate this holy place with weapons?"
"I am Fial McMurrin, Irish seaman. Who are you if you don't mind me asking?"
The cleric had difficulty understanding Fial's accent and hesitated. "I am Bishop Alfonso Raul, head of the Catholic diocese in this city." He hesitated again. "You are the captain of the ship they call the Ghost?"
"I am."
"You have knocked one of my flock down in anger yet I heard you were a man of God."
"Men of God in my land are the poorest amongst us including bishops. They are too busy helping their flocks to be gathering wealth themselves. I see none of this here. If you are a man of God your people in town would not be begging for a meal."
"They are not people of our faith."
"How long has this church worked in this area?"
"For all time, as long as can be remembered. We have a similar enemies. The British are flexing their muscles here, something you despise I hear."
"The British have a place called Westminster, they are way ahead of you in my eyes and I would not call them friends of mine. They are empire builders but they don't hide behind the cloak of a church, they openly admit it.”
"How dare you!"
"I saw a man who had his father killed and his land taken in the street here. Can you tell me what his father had done?
"We have taken the land off several heretics in this area, saving the people from the influence of those with evil intent."
"To save the people in this town you need to give them food and a place to live, work to do, giving meaning and fostering families."
"We look after those of our diocese."
"I have seen enough here. The port of Soyo in the Congo; I have seen this place. I hear you have worked in this area for many years. What can you tell me of it? Bear in mind that my dark friend here is from there and can understand every word you say."
"A black man who speaks English."
"Yes. I have another ten in my crew who can."
Raul thought for a few seconds. "We control the trade in the area, much of our income is sourced from there. Work in the area is slow; the place is ridden with disease. It is the centre of black magic or voodoo. A religion of savages."
"I'm surprised you have not called them pagans. Enough work has been done on the word to vilify anyone who will not comply with what you want."
"What an impertinent and offensive person you are monsieur. I will have to summon the guard to incarcerate you as a heretic."
"Well I was wondering when someone was going to call me something new. How’s that Bongo I've made it to a heretic." Bongo smiled and nodded, infuriating Raul. "Most call me a lunatic. I came here with questions to things that I was not sure of. They have been clearly answered. I hope your guard had a big gun for in the bay amongst my fleet is a ship bearing cannon that can easily reach your church and homes from the river. Put one hand on any of us and you will be laid waste."
"You would fire upon the church of God."
"No but I’d fight the face of tyranny no matter what cloak it hides beneath. I will be in Soyo long before you can send any message of this. Bongo will get his land back and in the realms of time Westminster will level the playing field for many. I won’t live to see that but my son may." Raul stood back and waved to his guards, they lunged forwards with their long lances. Fial raised his muskets, shooting them in the face followed by a rally from Belgarde standing behind Fial. They fell to the ground screaming in pain holding their wounds; their ornate armour had failed to stop the project
iles.
Fial walked right up to Raul's face. "These men are soldiers, poor ones. Decide if you wish to be a soldier or a man of God. If I return and you insist on being a soldier in the robes of a man of God, then I will treat you like a soldier. I will enter Soyo with a white flag and discuss cooperation. Should this fail I will enter with a black flag and show quarter should they surrender. If this doesn't work I will take the port with a red flag. If you do not understand these flags best you find out; as a soldier will need to know."
Fial stared at the white, frozen face of Raul for a few seconds, looked at his other clergy; they avoided his gaze. He walked from the church grounds to the offices of Douglas Morecombe on the banks of the docks. He received payment for the French ships and returned to his fleet supervising the last of the re-stock of larders and magazines into the night. By dawn the next morning the fleet had gone.