Ocean Empire
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The sky was clear, the wind still and gentle on the deck. The sun beat down upon the sea, a great blue ocean without a cloud in sight that stretched out to all horizons. The horizon curved away, a line of grey clouds in the east that would soon be obscured by nightfall; but there were few signs of land at this distance. This is what the crew had prayed for, after months at sea.
It seemed the gods answered their prayers as they came around the Horn, sailing southwest towards the vast open sea that stretched from here to China, across which lay a new world. A world where trade could take place with people like themselves.
Where there would be no more need to work for these savages, who treated them with scorn and contempt. No more living in caves or huts built by other people, with their animals for company. No more living in fear of savage tribesmen who stole their wives and children.
All this would end. And all because of one man’s vision. One man’s ambition. For he knew it was time, that his father before him had been wrong. It was not enough merely to conquer and rule an empire: to be able to trade and barter your goods for other things would prove far greater riches than any gold or silver hoard.
That was why Captain James Longstreet now stood on deck, dressed in a coat of mail, staring into the distance through a spyglass. He could see the island of America some miles away from his ship, and he hoped the day would come when it would belong to him too.
‘You may have heard that I am a rich man, Mr. Jones?’ he asked over the side, looking up at the second mate.
‘I did hear you say as much, sir.’
Longstreet took another puff on his pipe, then continued, ‘My father made his fortune first trading in slaves. Then after he lost his life in the slave trade he left me in charge of our shipping interests. But I am not interested in just making money anymore – I want more.
More control, more wealth. Now, we are about to cross the ocean and enter a new country that is full of opportunities. I intend to exploit those opportunities in whatever way suits my best interests. So if you do not mind, I shall be standing here on the deck, taking stock of the island and its ports while we are close enough so that I can see them clearly.’
Jones nodded. He didn’t care whether the captain chose to stand on deck or not. He just wanted to sail safely past the island before they reached it. He turned away from Longstreet’s backside.
He could see the island already, its green hills rolling away beneath a blue sky dotted with white puffy clouds. He looked closer and saw a tiny town nestling between two small sandy beaches, surrounded by a low stone wall and a single wooden gatehouse.
There was a large warehouse beside it. Beyond the town were fields covered in yellow maize and purple beans, and grazing herds of cattle, sheep, and goats. A flock of chickens wandered aimlessly around them.
On the horizon, he could see ships on the water. They looked to be heading southeast, probably bound for England. The captain was right – there were many ports along this coast to choose from.
A sudden gust of wind caught the sails, sending the ship skimming forward across the waves. Jones hurried over to the wheelhouse. ‘Captain!’ he shouted. ‘We’re moving too fast! We’ll hit the reef again if we keep sailing like this.’
There was no reply. Longstreet had walked away, back to the stern rail. His eyes were fixed on the land ahead.
They sailed on, slowly gaining speed, but still, they were traveling far too fast to avoid hitting the reef. If they did, they’d be wrecked before they could get help. And that wouldn’t make the captain look very good at all…
***
The man’s name was John Adams. At forty-one, he had traveled to Boston aboard a ship called the Good Hope from Liverpool, England, and had arrived three weeks ago. In those three weeks, he had become a rich man.
For one thing, he owned half of a successful tobacco business, a business started by his grandfather in Virginia, which he’d bought for just over twenty thousand dollars. This made him a rich man indeed, and one who had also found favor with a man named Thomas Jefferson; a wealthy landowner who had a great deal of influence with the Americans of the southern states.
In a few months’ time, when the American Revolution broke out and the war was declared against King George III’s government in London, Adams was to become the most important man in the country. He was to lead an army, defeat British troops led by Lord Cornwallis in New York City, and become the first president of the United States of America.
All of this came about because he had been offered the chance to invest his money in something that would make him even richer. He had invested his money in shares in a new business venture – an enterprise that would revolutionize international trade. And all thanks to one man with a vision.
Adams had met a man called Henry Knox just three weeks earlier, in a tavern near Boston harbor. It was early evening on a Friday and Adams had only been in America for less than a month. He couldn’t speak any English, so he had to rely on his companion for everything.
But his companion spoke well, and he knew how to talk. They’d sat at a table in the busy tavern and talked long into the night, about politics and philosophy. He knew nothing about either.
All he had done was buy some shares in what he thought must be the next great thing – a plan to build a huge fleet of ships that would sail all around the world and bring people, goods, information, and culture to every corner of the globe.
It wasn’t really until that same day that Adams realized that he was sitting opposite the person responsible for this whole scheme – a man whom the newspapers called the ‘father’ of the American navy. For this man was none other than John Paul Jones himself.
John Paul Jones, the famous Scottish sea pirate? Surely not…
Now Adams was lying on a cot in a small room at the rear of the tavern. He was naked and covered in blood. His face felt as though it was burning. He had broken ribs on both sides, a fractured jaw and cheekbone, several teeth knocked out, a broken nose, a badly lacerated scalp, and a deep cut down his left arm. He heard voices outside the door and opened his eyes.
‘Well, Doctor,’ said one of the men. ‘What do you think? Is this the famous Pirate Captain?’
He tried to nod his head, but his body refused to cooperate.
‘You need a lot more work than we originally thought, my friend,’ replied the doctor. ‘And now I’m afraid we have a problem. We need to amputate your leg.’
‘I can walk on it,’ Adams managed to say, even though he knew he was delirious. ‘I’ve done it before.’
‘That’s impossible, John,’ said another man. ‘How are you going to fight the Americans without a leg? How will you command your men? You’re useless to us now.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ snapped Adams. ‘You know I am worth more alive than dead. If you want to kill me then just take a knife and cut my throat. But don’t let them touch my leg. I’ll die before I give up my right to live.’
The voices outside the door went quiet, but the doctor’s tone changed. Now he sounded angry.
‘We won’t touch the leg,’ he growled. ‘Not unless you order it yourself.’
‘Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Then do as I say.’
Adams didn’t know how much time had passed after that. When he awoke again his leg had been removed.
‘I see we’ve got our new captain,’ one of the sailors joked.
‘Who’s he going to command? The dead?’ snapped the surgeon, whose voice was still harsh and gruff despite his best attempts to hide it. ‘This man is an idiot. What did he expect to happen? That we wouldn’t find out if he had a little accident like this? Why the hell would he have his leg amputated?’
‘Well, it seems that he doesn’t trust us now,’ said another man. ‘And why should he? We’ve taken a big risk in taking him, prisoner. He could be a valuable asset to us or he could turn a traitor on us and reveal all of our secrets. So we’d better look after him. And if he wants his leg back, well, he can bloody well ask nicely.’
The surgeon nodded in agreement. ‘Aye, I see what you mean. But how are we going to get him to do it? If I knew where he kept his leg, I might suggest it myself.’
‘I’ll tell you one way to make sure he does as he’s told,’ said the sailor. ‘Take his head off. That will keep him in line for life.’
***
John Paul Jones’ wound was bad enough for him to stay in bed for several days, but once he regained his strength he was soon able to sit up in bed and use the crutches the doctor brought to him. His face remained swollen, but it was starting to heal.
The doctors gave him strong painkillers and some herbal remedies to help with his fever. He took the pills gratefully, even though they were not easy to stomach. As soon as the worst of the pain subsided, however, his mind turned to his ship.
She was far too big a target for him to be sailing her into the mouth of the Delaware river and she would draw a lot of attention from any Americans who decided to check their coast for British warships. It made sense, therefore, that he should sail the Hermione to a spot about eight miles away from the nearest port and then row ashore in his small boat.
He hoped that he might be able to persuade Commodore Howe to send some soldiers to meet him there so he could surrender his ship and receive a fair trial for treason. But it wasn’t to be; he saw no sign of anyone coming to meet him and the Hermione sailed towards Philadelphia under full sail and with only a few gun crews on board.
‘I wonder if I should have killed the bastard instead,’ said James Adams bitterly, when he overheard someone muttering about his captain’s decision while he was having breakfast. ‘Wouldn’t that have been easier than this? At least he’d be dead and I’d be on my way home by now.’
James felt as though his heart would burst at the thought of being parted from Hannah for a second time, but he couldn’t bear to think that they would both end up rotting in prison because he had lost his nerve and fled in defeat.
‘I suppose it doesn’t matter,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll just have to find a way to escape somehow. Maybe if I’m lucky enough to catch sight of the Americans, and they don’t fire on me, I can try and convince them that I really am their prisoner. They seem very suspicious these days – maybe I can bluff them into believing me.’
‘What a fool you are!’ laughed the sailor next to him. ‘They’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Don’t worry though, mate. You’ll soon be dead.’
Adams smiled and shook his head sadly. ‘No doubt about that. I hope it happens soon enough so that I don’t have to endure it much longer.’
***
The Americans had a reputation for being ruthless in the way they dealt with prisoners of war. The men and women in the prison camps weren’t allowed to leave their barracks until they’d given up all information they possibly could. If they didn’t, their punishment consisted of hard labor every day until they died.
And if that happened, a replacement slave was immediately put to death and the corpse burned. This was the reason why John Paul Jones had never considered asking the American army for help when he was captured by the British.
He knew that the Americans were just as savage as the English and he had no illusions about whether or not he’d be treated fairly if he was taken, prisoner. He was also convinced that the American government wanted nothing more than to crush the rebellion.
So he’d chosen to remain aboard his Hermione and await his fate. There was still no sign of any Americans coming to meet him, so he spent most of the time sitting in the rigging where he could watch for signs of an approaching enemy fleet.
But despite all his efforts, he saw no sign of any approaching enemy ships, although he did see the occasional small boat heading out to sea. Once or twice he even thought he glimpsed something large, but when he looked more closely he couldn’t see anything there at all.
It was a warm spring afternoon as he sat watching the river for boats when he spotted three figures walking down the bank towards his ship. The first man came along slowly as if he was trying to keep his bearings. Then the others joined him and began marching towards Hermione.
As he watched them, a sudden wave of dread washed over him. They were dressed exactly like his own sailors, except they were wearing a different uniform – one that he recognized immediately. They were Royal Navy sailors! He tried to convince himself that there must be some new recruits who hadn’t yet learned how to walk properly.
After all, he’d heard that the Navy was recruiting men at the moment. But there was no doubt that these three men were British sailors. He couldn’t understand it. Hadn’t he already told them all what would happen to them if they ever surrendered to the British?
Did they have no respect for his word? Or had their officers ordered them to surrender him anyway? Whatever the truth was, John Paul Jones realized that he was in trouble.
The End