HF - 01 - Caribee (26 page)

'Murdered?
’

'Struck down as he would have sailed for La Rochelle. But now ... now the King turns to men like Strafford.'

‘I
do not know the name.'

'You knew him be
tt
er as Tom Wentworth.'

‘
Wentworth? But he was one of King James' most virulent opponents.'

Jefferson nodded. 'Now he has changed his tune and his coat, and incurred much odium in so doing. The rumour abroad when I left England was that soon the King will again dissolve Parliament, and there are no plans for calling a new one. Yet he is as much in debt as ever, and
contemplates war, with Scotl
and as well as with France, and with God knows who else, in the cause
of his religious principles. En
gland is a sorry place, Tom, and if taxes are to be collected at sword point it will become sorrier.'

'Which but makes me realize the more how fortunate I am that three thousand miles lie between me and that Stuart Court.'

Three th
ousand miles,' Jefferson repeated, slowly. 'A great distance. But not quite far enough.'

Tom frowned at
him
. '
You've something to say which sti
cks in your gullet?'

Jefferson sighed. 'Your grant...
‘

'You'll not say it is revoked?'

'Revoked, no. Taken over. Debts, you'll understand, on the part of Warwick. The entire Caribee Isles have been leased to the Earl of Carlisle.'

'Hay? I remember Hay. Aye. We have had our differences. And yet, you say, the entire Caribee Isles? Where will he find a colony to equal Merwar's Hope, save for a few beachcombers in Barbados? Where will he find the colonists to equal mine? He'll not play fast and loose with me. I have the King's own appointment as Lieutenant, and the right to appoint my successor.'

'All true. But the King, I say again, is deep in debt. Too deep for comfort, and certainly too deep for
scruple. The transfer was a costl
y business, for Master Hay. And so he obtained a slight addition to the lease. That of taxing the colonies for his own benefit.'

Tom's head turned, slowly. 'He'd impose a tax on Merwar's Hope? In what sum?'

'He spoke of a hundred pound a year.'

'A hundred pound? Is the man mad? Where will the colony support such a sum, at this time?'

‘I
am but a messenger in this ma
tt
er, Tom. I grieve for the situation. I told him, it but invites discontent
amongst the colonists. I beseec
hed him, to be patient and give you time to grow. But he is adamant. Your next crop, the crop that I take home with me, will be subject
to this tax, and so will all oth
ers.'

'By God,' Tom said. 'How rapidly a dream can dissolve into air. By God. This Hay must take me for less than a man.'

'You'll not resist, Tom. That were madness.'

'You'd have me submit, without question? You think we are without our problems here? You dunk these men down there would see their profits dissipated to keep some lord in his satins and laces, and his whores in their beds? By God. We'd best go down. This is a ma
tt
er for consideration.'

‘If
I might offer advice,' Jefferson said, and waited. But Tom was on his feet again, and making his way down the hill.

They reached the beach, from where a dock had been built out into the still waters of the roadstead, to allow boats to disembark without the necessity of their passengers becoming wet from the knees down. Yet here the sea was too shallow to allow ocean-going vessels to approach the shore, and the ships must need lie at anchor in the deeper waters of Old Road, and ply their trade to and fro by pinnace. They were at it now, unloading their cargoes, greeted by a large crowd of colonists, men, women and children, some just standing and staring, others hard at work under the supervision of William Jarring. Amongst them were mingled both the mastiffs and the goats,
growling and frisking, apparentl
y quite accustomed to each other's company.

'A good man,' Tom said, observing his friend's interest in the storekeeper. 'A self-interested man, who will carry the colony upwards with him.'

Jefferson said nothing. He had nothing to say, save the questions which bubbled across his tongue and which he dared not u
tt
er. Yet the people were interesting enough. It was possible to tell the length of time they had lived in the colony by merely looking at them
, separating the brownness of th
eir skins, the tidiness or otherwise of their dress. But here at least was a legitimate question. 'How many people do you muster now, Tom?
’

'More than a hundred, to be sure. I have not yet held a census, although it is in my mind to do so.'

They walked past the crowd, who ceased their labours to stand straight and touch their hats to the Governor, or in the case of the women to curtsy. 'And they live well together?'

'As I said, we have our problems. Forced upon us by circumstances. You'll remember that the first women you brought were the Irish. They are all married now, to my original se
tt
lers. Their children multiply each year. Yet they began life as Irish whores, and we have had few opportunities to change them here. So when Harriman arrived with his shiploads two years ago, you'll understand what happened. The most part of these people are Suffolk farmers and the like. Not gentlemen, certainly, but good yeomen, people of manners and gentility. If they swear they do so hi private, and if they drink it is seldom to the point of collapse. Yet they are the newcomers, and thus the inferiors, in land and status in the community. There can be no other way to manage the colony.'

‘I
ndeed. Yet do they, surely, outnumber your original people?"

'By some four to one.'

They walked up the deserted street, towards the Governor's House, and saw Mr Mailing standing on the steps of the church.

'Good day to you, Reverend,' Tom said.

‘It
is indeed, Your Excellency. Well, Mr Jefferson, w
hat do you think of our colony?’
Mailing was a very small man, with greying hair and clean-shaven, pointed features. His mildness was remarkable. It was impossible to imagine
that
, like everyone else on this island, he had found it necessary or at least desirable, to leave England. But he was no high churchman, and Laud's assessors had been breathing too heavily down his neck.

‘It
thrives, Reverend,' Jefferson agreed, and the three men walked slowly up the street. 'Captain Warner was t
elling me of h
is problems, of the jealousies which crop up between the original colonists and the newcomers. And yet I observe very few suggestions of coercion. No soldiers or trained bands. And I would have thought you needed those for your very safety.'

‘
We call such forces a militia in these parts,' Tom said. 'And every man is bound to serve.'

'Saving the indentured labour, of course,' Mailing said. 'There would be a risk we could not envisage, to place arms in the hands of such papist hooligans.'

‘
Well, then,' Jefferson said. To protect yourselves against them'

'Hardly necessary,' Tom said. 'On the one hand, they are divided up amongst the colonists, and on the other hand when they do accumulate, it is to drink and fight amongst
them
selves. I know the Irish, sir. I fought over their bogs when I was hardly more than a boy. Their lack of discipline, of any care for the morrow, indeed, leaves them totally unfi
tt
ed for concerted action. Added to which
they
would require a leader of character and purpose, and in Merwar's Hope they entirely lack such assistance. No, John, when I spoke of our problems,
they
are ma
tt
ers of fairness between individuals, arising from jealousies and rivalries between individuals. They will be resolved, by the Reverend and myself. It is our business. And I do promise you this; there has been too much blood shed to secure this marvello
us land for any man of us lightl
y to consider throwing any more away. This is Yarico.'

For they had reached the top of the street, and the
Indian
woman waited for them. At that, Jefferson wondered, was she anything more than a girl? She was very modestly dressed, in a high-necked and wide-collared gown; the colour was green, the collar white, all in linen. Indeed, there was a total absence of lace or furbelows about her. She wore a white cap on her head, from beneath which her black hair descended in a straight mass. It was longer hair than Jefferson had ever seen, and in a way the most beautiful hair he had ever seen, because unlike the softness he would have expected in a European woman, this hair had a texture of stiffness, and glimmered in a dull fashion, so as to suggest it would be impenetrable, and in fact, when she moved her head, as she did now to bow before the white men, the entire mass of hair moved in unison.

To complete her incongruity, her feet were bare. But there was more beauty here than in just the hair. The face was handsome, features filled with strength and purpose, and supported by a strong chin and firm, wide lips. Her eyes were black, and remote, except when she looked at Tom Warner; then they came to life, with a possessive purposefulness Jefferson had seldom seen before. For the rest, the gown was sufficiently shapeless to hide the body, but the wide hips and the bulge at the bodice were sufficient, when added to the hair and the feet and the face, and the suggestion of savagery which remained around her like an aura, to suggest untold, and heathen, delights, should she ever wish to share herself.

'My pleasure, Miss Yarico,' he said, and to his surprise she extended her hand, and waited, so confidently that he almost kissed it before recollecting himself. Hut the hand itself was admirable, with straight fingers and a dry palm.

'Chief Tegramond's daughter,' Tom explained. 'And my housekeeper.'

Jefferson glanced at him, but there was no suggestion of a flush, or any indication of embarrassment. Mailing, on the other hand, had turned a bright red from forehead to neck.

'Welcome, sir,' Yarico said, and stood aside. Two Irish servants, a male and a female, waited behind her, to take the men's hats and relieve them of their swords, and this done, she walked before them, her b
are feet noiseless on the uncar
peted floor, across the hall and into the inner room. Here Jefferson halted in the doorway in surprise, for the room was furnished with four well-carved chairs, and an equally stylish table, set against the wall; it lacked only a fireplace to suggest a room in Suffolk. And on the table there we
re glasses and a variety of bottl
es.

‘
You have done well, Tom,' he said. 'Well indeed.'

‘
You drink, sir?' Yarico asked, taking her place at the table.

‘I
ndeed I shall, madam,' Jefferson said. 'Whatever you are offering.'

'The French wine, Yarico,' Tom said, 'as it is a special occasion. You'll understand, John,
that
our delicacies have to be rationed, as we can never be sure of your arrival.'

'But now that I propose to leave three of the ships here,'

Jefferson said. "Why, you should never lack for anything, ever again.'

'There you have our toast. You'll join us, Yarico.'

She handed them their glasses without replying, and raised her own. 'Merwar's Hope,' she said. She spoke her English carefully, and yet with obvious difficulty.

'Merwar's Hope,' the men said.

'Now come,' Tom cried. 'Do not lurk there in the shadows. You'll remember Uncle John Jefferson, Sarah?'

The girl was a dun wisp; the mucus gathered in a steady stream beneath her nose, and stained the sleeve of her gown where she had sought to wipe it away. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and she moved without pleasure. But Jefferson was interested less in her than in the child who clutched her hand, hardly more
than
two years old, a strange combination of Tom Warner's rounded features and Yarico's lank black hair.

'My youngest son,' Tom said, and swept the boy from the floor.
‘I
have named him Thomas, after myself. He will perpetuate the name.'

The child gazed at Jefferson with the deep, solemn eyes of his mother, and the white man found himself looking from son to mother, and from father to preacher.

'This is not England, John,' Tom said. Things are different here. Tom is but the leading representative of a new people, who one day will claim this land. Perhaps this world.'

Jefferson nodded.
‘I
have read that the Spaniards face the same problem on the mainland.'

'Problem? By God, it is no problem, but a just and proper arrangement on the part of Providence. Now come, where are Philip and Edward?'

'Philip come,' Yarico said.

Here at least there was no cause for surprise or distress. Philip must be fourteen by now, Jefferson thought, an absolute image of his father, in height and build and feature. Even in manner. He shook hands, briefly.
‘It
is good to see you again, Mr Jefferson.'

'And where is Edward?" Tom demanded. 'Does he not wish to greet Mr Jefferson?
’

Philip glanced at Yarico. 'Edward not come,' Yarico said. 'Not come? By God....'

'You'll not find him, Father,' Philip said. 'He is drunk. He got drunk the moment the fleet was sighted. Now he has taken himself into the forest. You'll not find him.'

Tom rolled his leaf with great care, savouring the scent with every moment, striking the flint and waiting as the first wisps of smoke rose under his nostrils. Jefferson and Mailing were already alight, glasses of wine at their elbows. Dusk had come to Merwar's Hope with its invariable suddenness, but it had made
little
difference to Sandy Point. Rather it had brought the town to life. Lanterns glimmered in Jarring's General Store, and someone was scraping a fiddle down there; people were dancing in the streets. Mosquitoes and sand flies buzzed eagerly through the still air, for they too would feast this night. Merwar's Hope, on holiday, celebrating their tenuous links with that life they had left behind in England. Tonight there would be an absence of tensions and jealousies, although fresh causes of dissension would certainly be
in the making, as hitherto faith
ful wife found herself holding hands with handsome, transient sailor, while husband drank himself insensible in the shadows.

But the Governor's House was dark, save for a single
lantern in the doorway. The th
ree men sat on the porch, and looked down the street.

They are a happy people,' Jefferson said. 'Despite any differences y
ou may observe amongst them, I’ll
wager you are a proud man, Tom.'

Dinner had been a strained, silent affair. Now they waited, for Tom either to dismiss them or speak his mind. That he so ur
gently
wished to speak his mind was clear to them both.

'A happy people,' he said.
‘I
'll not disappoint them. As you say, whatever our differences, they came here to seek some relief from the burdens of living in England, and
they
have placed their trust in me. I have taken hard decisions before, by God. This one were relatively easy. I'm coming home with you, John.'