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  Woody agreed that we could both practise with the cutlasses and Davy and I enjoyed the bouts. Although he was stronger than I was, I had a quicker hand and we were evenly matched. When he could, Fatty watched us and ensured that we did not hurt each other. The old sailor also gave us tips about fighting. They proved to be invaluable when I joined the Confederacy. Fatty also showed me how to load and clean a pistol. It seemed that we were not the worst of the jackals of the sea and there were pirates who would try to take our cargo from us. Shot and powder were too expensive to be wasted on me but I learned how to hold and load the weapon. The six days with the slaves aboard flew by and I learned, also, to know when land was close. The air smelled different. It smelled dirtier somehow and Davy nodded when I told him that. “Aye, we are approaching the United States and Charleston. It is where we deliver the slaves.”

  I became excited and worried both at the same time. I had almost reached my goal but how would I get ashore? I was certain that they would be watching me. Fatty agreed. “Now that Eddie is dead you are too valuable to lose. Good top men like you and Davy are hard to come by.” He shook his head sadly. “We may have to wait until our next voyage.”

  My disappointment lasted until I saw my first American city. It looked totally different from Ireland. There was a fort guarding the harbour, I discovered it was called Fort Sumter and a second one guarding the other side. Most of the buildings looked to be painted wood and it looked less shabby and cleaner than Cork. Fatty shook his head, “There are still dark places there young Jack and you need to be careful.” He looked over to where Paddy Henry was staring at me. “Not that I think you will be going ashore.”

  We anchored in the roads and a customs officer rowed out to us. He disappeared into the main cabin and returned a few moments later grinning. Davy whispered. “That’s him paid off. Now we wait until the buyer comes.”

  It was after dark when three long boats rowed up and tied up on the far side of the ship. This was the first time I ever saw James Booth Boswell, a man who would greatly influence me as a man. He was tall and thin. He had the look of a gentleman. I know that sounds a strange thing to say but I was comparing him to the red coated villain who had slain my parents. That murderer had obviously been a gentleman but he neither looked nor acted like one. James Booth Boswell always looked and acted like the southern aristocrat he was. At the time I did not wonder why he was engaged in the slave trade but I discovered that some years later. He came aboard with the biggest man I had ever seen, including Paddy Henry. He was the young man’s body guard, Danny Murphy. I happened to be standing close by the gangplank coiling a rope when he stepped aboard. He touched his hat and said, “Good evening young man.”

  I was so taken aback that I could barely muster a, “And to you sir.”

  The huge man with him just grinned and winked at me. They were below deck for some time and then emerged with Captain Bailey. “I trust you have a safe voyage east. Will you be staying in port for long?”

  The southern gentleman sounded so refined that I almost shuddered when Black Bill Bailey spoke. “Just long enough to get some food and swill the decks of the smell of the darkies!”

  “Until the next time.” As he came by me he tapped his hat and nodded. I didn’t know what to do and so I gave a small bow. Both he and his man grinned. “A young gentleman in the making I see. I look forwards to seeing you again young sir!”

  The slaves began to moan and wail as they were led to the far side of the ship. The sun had set and the lee of the ship was in complete darkness. I could hear the crack of the whips and the cries of the naked black men and women as they were lowered into the boats. Fatty was right, I had thought of myself as a slave but I was not. I might be a prisoner on a ship but I had more freedom than the poor unfortunates who had just entered the United States of America.

  Black Bill Bailey took Fatty and Woody ashore with him in the ship’s long boat. I saw a sad shake of the head from Fatty. I already knew that I would not be escaping this voyage but when we returned to Cork, and then I would release Caitlin and break from her false promise of servitude.

  The deck watch was kept by Paddy Henry and he positioned himself, with a musket and pistol to stop any of us trying to swim to land. It was never an option for me as I couldn’t swim and the others seemed happy enough on board. They had all moaned about not being able to enjoy the delights of Charleston. As they hadn’t been paid then I wondered how they could have afforded those expensive pleasures.

  When the boat returned there were four men on board and the fourth was a replacement for Eddie. Mario Locatelli had barely ten words in English but he was more agile than a monkey and was keen to return to the other side of the Atlantic. I doubted that Captain Bailey would allow that but, as he was now on board the ship, it was a moot point. Fatty had done us proud and brought fresh meat, vegetables and rum. I ate something called sweet corn and melon for the first time and I wondered at the array of foods available in America. Having survived on potato and cabbage for so many years I was enjoying food for the first time in my life.

  While the rest of the crew over indulged themselves with the rum and the beer brought by the cook I just drank small beer. I had seen the effects of drink on my sister and I was now wary of the demon drink; especially when Bill Bailey was around! Fatty too, was careful with his intake. There were just the seamen in the mess and, when the men began to gamble he took me to one side. “Sorry about that Jack. I hoped he would give shore leave but I think he was worried that we wouldn’t replace Eddie. There’s always the next trip. That will be in about six weeks.”

  “What if I jump ship in Cork?”

  “We aren’t going back directly to Cork. We are bound for Bristol to take on a cargo of gee jaws. We are going down to Spain to pick up slaves this time. The captain heard that the Navy are looking for us. We will need a new route.” My heart sank. I was trapped aboard this ship just like Eddie on the Flying Dutchman. Fatty saw my discomfort. “Don’t worry. Next time we get across he will not be as suspicious.” He ruffled my hair which had grown considerably on the voyage, “You are young and have lots of time. And I will cut these locks in the morning. We don’t want nits do we?”

  The voyage back was, literally, plain sailing. We had neither storm nor incident and even Black Bill Bailey managed a few jokes with the crew. I managed to spend some time with the negro, Blackie Jones. I asked him if he had any sympathy for the slaves we had transported. Without taking the cigar out of his mouth he said, “The way I look at it we don’t make them slaves. That’s the Arabs and I hate them bastards. If we didn’t take them across the sea then someone else would and the other slavers are much worse than our ship.”

  “Worse than being locked up in a lightless hold?”

  “On the big ships they have just this much space.” He held his arms about two feet apart. “And they squat like that all the way across. Some of them are crippled for life. At least they can stand up and stretch here. They don’t have to piss and shit on the slave on the next deck below. There are scuppers here for that. No, young Jack, don’t you worry about them black fellahs. They will survive. My family did and I have a fine life now.” He nudged me playfully in the ribs. “At least I don’t have to dice with no damn death at the top of a pitching ship.” He shook his head. “I swear I thought you was going to die more than once.” He laughed a deep belly laugh which was infectious.

  At other times I practised with the cutlass and, one fine day Captain Black Bill Bailey taught me how to fire a pistol. I wasn’t sure I could hit anything but at least I knew how to do it and I wouldn’t be afraid of the noise. “You have done better than I thought you wee squab. I thought you would have drowned and I would have had to give the bad news to that pretty sister of yours.” He jabbed me in the chest, “You keep your nose clean and you’ll make some money with me.”

  I was tempted by his pleasant conversation to bring up Cork. “Will I be able to see my sister when we reach Cork?”

&
nbsp; He became more serious, all bantering had disappeared. “It will take a lot more voyages before I trust you not to run. The rest of the crew can have shore leave but you will be with either Paddy or me. Think on it!”

  I almost broke into tears when he told me that. To be so close to Caitlin and not to see her was heartbreaking. I told Fatty. “Ah it’s for the best. I’ll see Stumpy and find out about her. How’s that?”

  I brightened. “It’s better than nothing. Now you’ll be due some pay. Are you going to keep it or do you want anything?”

  I couldn’t think of anything but I remembered the money Caitlin had given me. I took out the silver sixpence and my few coppers. Perhaps if she had them she could escape her position. “Ask Stumpy to give her these few coins. If I am due pay then I shan’t need them.” A strange look passed over his face and he left, clutching the money without another word.

  Bristol looked far bigger and had more stone buildings than either Cork or Charleston. The guns in the harbour and the Royal Navy ships meant that we spent less than four hours at the quayside and no-one left the ship. A scrawny old man in fine clothes came aboard and spoke only with Black Bill. I learned, later, that he was the ship’s owner. We sailed on the tide and headed for my home.

  Cork looked so comforting when I saw the old city that I was tempted to leap into the river and swim to shore. Then I remembered that I couldn’t swim and I had to wait on board with Paddy Henry and Blackie while the rest of the crew went to enjoy the pleasures of that city. I did receive my pay and it went directly into my purse. When I landed in America I would not be a poor man. Blackie sensed my sadness and told me many tales of America. It seemed he had been a slave in Virginia, close to Monticello which was, apparently a fine and famous house. He said it was a hot and humid land filled with tobacco and corn but he spoke fondly of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the mighty Shenandoah. He was so eloquent that I wanted to visit that place more than any other. The time passed far quicker than I could have imagined and, before we knew it, we were heading, once more, for the islands of Spain, just off North Africa.

  When Fatty returned I grilled him about Caitlin and Stumpy. He was evasive at first but I eventually learned that Caitlin had, indeed, become housekeeper for the captain but she had become aloof and wanted little to do with Stumpy.

  “He will give her the money!”

  Fatty smiled, “His friend Megan will and, I daresay, put a flea in her ear!”

  As with the trip back to Britain the voyage was easy. This time we lost no slaves and no crew so that, when we anchored in the Charleston harbour we were all happy and satisfied. When the slave master and his lieutenant came aboard we were surprised when they did not descend down to the depths but, instead stood, with Captain Bailey on the main deck. I could see that Black Bill Bailey was not happy but it seemed that James Booth Boswell wished to address us.

  “Gentlemen, I wish to thank you personally for your efforts on my behalf. I am beholden to you for you have made me richer than my daddy.” He laughed, “And believe me that is rich. I would like you to share in my bounty.” He gestured to the huge Irishman with him. “Mr Murphy here will give you a card with my address on it. Should you ever be in Charleston and need my assistance then please call upon me.”

  Blackie took his cigar out of his mouth. “Even a nigra, Mr Booth?”

  The aristocrat smiled and stared back, “Even a nigra, Mr Jones.”

  Paddy Henry snorted, “A feckin waste of time. The ignorant bastards canna read anyway.”

  James Booth Boswell ignored the angry look thrown by his lieutenant at the first mate and said calmly, “And can you read Mr Henry?” The shake of the head was angry but definite. “Then you are all in the same boat.” He smiled, “Quite literally!” Danny Murphy laughed while Paddy Henry just scowled.

  He descended below with the captain and I stared at the prettily decorated piece of card. For the first time in my life I wanted to be able to read.

  Surprisingly the one member of the crew, apart from Black Bill himself, who could read, was Blackie Jones. His owner had had him taught from a young age. For the next two years I learned how to read, I learned how to shoot and I became a much stronger and more skilful sailor. Despite the fact that I showed no sign of running Black Bill still kept me on board every time we returned to Cork. I was allowed off twice in Charleston but only under the supervision of Paddy Henry. I bridled a little but kept my anger hidden. I would make a break but it would be on my terms. My purse was now filled and was inside a money belt I had made out of leather. The time I had on the ship whilst in harbour was not wasted. To be truthful the life on board the ship did not seem that bad. It had been over a year since the first mate had had cause to strike me and now, with my frame filled out and my muscles as rippled as Davy’s I was not such an easy mark.

  It was in the summer of 1853 that things changed. We had picked up our normal cargo and were heading west when Davy shouted from the mast head. “Sail away to the north!”

  We rarely saw ships for our route was well away from the main sea lanes from Britain to America. I could see from his expression that Black Bill was not happy. “All hands on deck. Full sail!”

  I could see his dilemma. The ship, which we could all now see, had the wind on its quarter and was flying. It was also heading for us and that meant one of two things, a pirate or a Royal Navy ship. Davy confirmed our worst fears. “It’s a Royal Navy brig!”

  A Royal Navy brig was bigger than us and carried cannons. Our two deck guns would be useless until they chose to board. As we hoisted the sail I kept looking nervously over my shoulder. Woody chuckled. “Don’t worry Jack, they won’t open fire. That would risk killing the darkies. They’ll try to take us and the Rose can fly with the best of them.”

  I knew this to be true as we had careened the ship four times and scraped the weed and barnacles from her hull. But this was a Royal Navy ship and I knew from the others that they were to be feared.

  The captain changed course so that we had the advantage of the wind but that route took us away from our destination. Every inch of canvas was set. Paddy Henry came on deck with the chest of weapons. “Best tool up.”

  As we armed ourselves Toby ventured. “Looks like we are losing her.” I peered aft and saw that we were, indeed extending our lead.

  Davy’s voice sounded like a crack of doom. “Sail to the south. Another brig!”

  “Shit!” Paddy Henry almost spat the word out. “It’s a trap!”

  I was too far away to hear the skipper’s words but he and Blackie hurled the wheel over and we caught a sudden gust of wind. It was now a chase to the west. Although we were faster than the two brigs, they were converging on us. If the wind changed direction at all then we would be caught. Paddy and Woody both came racing down the deck. “Mario, Jack, get up the mainmast we are going to add a spritsail, see if we can get an extra knot out of her.”

  The sail was heavy and required two of us to manhandle it to the top of the mainmast. While Mario tied it on I unrolled it. The bottom end flapped free until Davy grabbed it and secured it to a cleat. As soon as he did so the Rose almost leapt forwards. We waited until we were sure that the sail was secured and then slid down the ratlines. I was facing towards the northern vessel and saw a puff of smoke, a few seconds later we heard a dull crump. I saw the cannon ball strike the water and bounce some hundred yards in front of us. Paddy spat over the side. “All piss and wind. If they hit us they kill the darkies and they want them to take home. Then they will be feckin heroes!” He looked up at the new sail. “If that sail gets us out of this you two can have a tot of rum tonight!”

  The second ship also fired across our bows and this time they were even closer. Despite Paddy’s words I felt uncomfortable. The two deck guns had been loaded although what good they would do I had no idea. It was now afternoon and we had to evade the two ships for another eight hours if we were to escape. Once it became dark we could change direction and evade our pursuers but, until
then we were helpless.

  I turned to Woody, “What if there is a third ship ahead of us.”

  “Then we are dead!”

  “Dead?”

  “Aye, we’ll have to fight and the Royal Navy always wins. The survivors will be hanged. No jail time for slavers. So you best hope that Black Bill Bailey has a few tricks up his sleeve.”

  The next few hours went by so slowly that I was convinced that time had stood still. The two brigs appeared to be a little closer and each shot they fired seemed to threaten us a little more. They appeared to be firing to gauge how close they were to us and even I could see that, unless the weather intervened, they would have our range before dark. Fatty brought out salt pork sandwiches and small beer. We dare not leave our station for the slightest deviation in the wind or the weather would mean we had to react instantly. I noticed that the ship to the north of us was closing faster than the one to the south. It showed me, a novice seaman, that the wind was stronger from that quarter. Perhaps the captain had also seen it some time ago for he and Blackie began to slowly turn the wheel to port as Paddy and Woody trimmed the foresail. Suddenly the ship to the south looked closer and I wondered if the wily Black Bill had miscalculated but just as suddenly the ship to the south also had to turn to shadow us and we began to draw away. Once again we were drawing away as we had when this sea chase began.

  I had had a turn at the masthead and now it was Davy who stood watch. Suddenly he shouted. “Captain, the ship to the south is signalling.”

  Paddy was hurrying back to the wheel and I heard him say to Woody, “Damn his eyes! That means there is a third one out there!”

  Woody shook his head, “Now we are for it. Check your pistols and reload with fresh powder. You may get a chance to fire that gun in anger, young Jack, although I pray to God not.”

  “Sail to the west. I think it is a frigate.”

  Even I knew that a frigate was almost a ship of the line. With forty guns and the brigs like two sheep dogs to herd us we were as good as dead. I looked aft and saw that Black Bill looked quite calm. I wondered what he was planning. I kept glancing to port and starboard to ascertain the position of our two hunters. Then I heard Toby say, “Dead ahead. A big bastard.”