Andrew Swanston - The King's Exile

They finally came to a halt beside the Oistins harbour master’s house on the quayside. There Charles jumped out, followed by Adam and Thomas, and Patrick handed Mary down. A large crowd had gathered around the harbour, most of them gazing towards the horizon. With hands protecting their eyes from the morning sun, they too looked past the few ships anchored in the harbour and out to sea.

‘The devil and all his whores,’ growled Charles, ‘are those warships I see?’

The others followed his gaze. Three ships were anchored outside the harbour. Each one carried cannon and they could just make out the movement of men on their decks. There were hundreds of them. They were certainly warships and they carried marines. A fleet had arrived overnight and the harbour was blocked. If it was a Royalist fleet it would have entered the harbour and anchored there. They must be Cromwell’s ships. So much for the Parliamentary fleet being a rabble.

Thomas turned away, unable to look. A day earlier and he would have got away. Now his ship could not sail. He shut his eyes and tried not to weep. He felt an arm around his shoulders.

‘Mr Carrington has gone to make enquiries, Thomas. There are only three ships. It may not be what it seems.’ There was a catch in Patrick’s voice. But Thomas knew that it was what it seemed. He knew it. And when Charles returned, there was no room for doubt.

‘They arrived last night,’ said Charles grimly. ‘Three here and four at Bridgetown. The harbour master has gone out to enquire as to their purpose. He’ll be back soon. I fear it’s certain, though. Willoughby recognizes one of the ships. It’s a Parliamentary fleet.’

‘It certainly does not look like a fleet of refugees,’ said Mary. ‘So Lord Willoughby’s information was wrong.’

‘I fear so. Either the Dutch were misinformed or Cromwell sent false information to deceive us.’

‘Perhaps he will permit Thomas’s ship to sail,’ suggested Mary. ‘It wouldn’t do him any harm.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ replied Adam. ‘Ayscue will carry out his orders to the letter and if Cromwell has ordered him to blockade the island, that is what he will do. He’s only got two harbours to block.’

‘There’s a rowing boat coming in,’ said Patrick, pointing out to sea. ‘It must be the harbour master.’

When the rowing boat tied up at the quay, however, it carried not the harbour master but a young man in the red jacket and leather breeches of an infantry officer. He stepped ashore and spoke loudly enough for everyone at the harbour to hear.

‘General Sir George Ayscue begs to inform the people of Barbados that he carries the commission of Parliament to assume the governorship of the island and that he intends to do so immediately. The harbour master will be detained on the Rainbow until a satisfactory response is received from Lord Willoughby.’ Before anyone thought to stop him, the young officer had jumped into the rowing boat and was on his way back to his ship.

While the watching crowd were milling about wondering what to do, Adam asked Charles to take the others home. ‘There’s nothing to be done here, Charles. I’ll stay and wait for news. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ He was right. There was no point in their all waiting at the quay. Thomas’s ship would not be sailing that day and they might just as well go home. They climbed into the carriage and left Adam to it.

The journey home was made in silence. Not a word was spoken until they were back at the Lytes’ house. ‘Patrick,’ said Mary brightly, as they stepped out of the carriage, ‘please bring out two bottles of our best hock.’

The hock cheered Mary and Charles up enough for Mary to accept his offer of dinner and to accompany him back to his estate, but they weren’t the ones whose hopes had been dashed. No amount of wine, however good, could cheer Thomas up. He sat in silence, eyes closed, quite unable to speak. Patrick, knowing that words were the last thing Thomas needed, disappeared into the kitchen and left him to his thoughts. A plate of chicken legs went untouched, as did the coconut biscuits. Eventually, Thomas stirred himself and went to his room. He had not spoken since they left Oistins.

Adam did not return until the next morning. He had spent the night at the governor’s house. There had been some communication between Ayscue and Willoughby and he brought news. Patrick woke Thomas gently and helped him dress. Adam and Mary were waiting for them in the parlour.

‘Charles Stuart did raise an army in Scotland,’ he told them, ‘but it was destroyed by Cromwell at Worcester in September. He escaped and is now back in France. The information the Dutch brought us was entirely wrong. When the Assembly met yesterday afternoon and Lord Willoughby called for a vote on how we should respond to Ayscue’s demand, we voted unanimously in favour of a declaration of support for Lord Willoughby and agreed to resist any attempt by Ayscue to take the island by force. The waverers were won over by Willoughby’s eloquence. He told us that Cromwell had sent his admiral to take control of our island and thereby deprive our king of his rightful dominion but that he had gravely underestimated our loyalty and determination by sending a pitiful armada of only seven ships, carrying barely a thousand men. He reminded us that our strength is much the greater and that we have improved our defences to the extent that any invader would find it impossible to land his troops in any numbers. The members cheered and we voted to authorize the governor to send an appropriate message to Ayscue.’

‘And what will happen now?’ asked Mary.

‘Ayscue will no doubt set up a blockade. Our trade may be disrupted but the mood of the Assembly is that we will not be dictated to or cowed by the threat of attack.’ He turned to Thomas. ‘Your ship cannot sail while Ayscue’s fleet is anchored outside the harbours. It would be too dangerous. It will have to wait until they leave or an agreement is reached. I’m sorry, Thomas, it’s dreadful news. Let us hope that the delay will be short.’ Thomas did not reply. He no longer dared hope for anything. ‘The estate will carry on as usual. We will store the sugar for as long as we have to. I will be travelling to and from Bridgetown and will bring whatever news there is.’

Mary placed her hand on Thomas’s. ‘You will go home, Thomas, I promise you.’

Over the next week Adam brought more reports. Messages had been travelling to and fro between Ayscue’s ship, the Rainbow , and the governor’s house. Ayscue had written a long letter to Willoughby, expressing his dismay that the Assembly had refused his demands and claiming that he did not relish the thought of fighting a man who had once been his ally. Nor did he want to bring destruction to the island; control of its government and its trade were his aims, not its ruin. But if Willoughby and his Assembly stubbornly held out against him, he would have no choice but to land his troops and take over by force.

In reply, Lord Willoughby had pointed out that the island’s defences were strong, Ayscue’s force was easily outnumbered and Barbados could not be starved into submission. What he did not mention was that he had received a demand from a committee claiming to represent the island’s leading landowners that he should meet them to discuss the situation. The committee could not claim to represent all leading landowners because neither Charles nor Adam was included. Despite this, Willoughby agreed to the meeting, which was hurriedly arranged for two days hence and would take place in the governor’s residence.

What the planters feared most was a long blockade. Sugar sitting in barrels and going nowhere would do no one any good. If they could not ship it, it would deteriorate and lose its value. And there was a problem with storage. Since the fire, they were having to store more of their cured sugar on their estates where rats and cockroaches got at it. The planters wanted action of one sort or another.