1636: Commander Cantrell in the West Indies – Snippet 24
Eddie shrugged. “Sir, your gamble to wait and get us more goodies may not have panned out, but that’s in the nature of gambling, wouldn’t you agree? If you had been right, we’d be leaving here with more combat power, and a mission which would have represented a much more complete test of the ships and systems you’re planning to shift into standard production. And if the rotary drill had been ready, the cash back on the venture — and the need to rapidly expand our maritime capacity to capitalize on it — would have given you all the clout you needed for what you want. All the clout and more, I should say.”
Simpson looked at Eddie squarely. The younger man wondered if that calm gaze was what the admiral’s version of gratitude looked like. “You have a generous and forgiving spirit, Commander. I’m not sure I’d be so magnanimous, in your place. After all, it’s not just you who now has less combat power, less time before the heavy weather sets in, and more official requirements added on while your departure was delayed. Your wife is now subject to the same vulnerabilities, too.”
Eddie nodded. “And don’t I know it, sir.”
Simpson actually released a small smile. “You sound less than overjoyed to have your wife along for the ride, Commander. Not SOP for a newlywed.”
“Sir, with all due respect, none of this is SOP for a newlywed. Am I glad that I won’t spend a whole half year away from my beautiful wife? You bet. Does it make me crazy anxious that she, and her quasi-entourage, are heading into danger along with me? You bet. The latter kind of diminishes the, uh . . . hormonal happiness caused by the former.”
Simpson chuckled. “You are developing a true gift for words, Commander. If I could spare you from the field, I’d make you our chief diplomatic liaison.”
“Sir! It’s unbecoming a senior officer to threaten his subordinates. I’ll take cannon fire over cocktail parties any day!”
Simpson glanced down toward Eddie’s false foot. “And this from a man who should know better.”
“Sir! I do know better. I’ve experienced both, and I’ll take the cannons.”
“Why?”
“Permission to speak freely?”
“Granted.”
“Because, sir, battles are short and all business, and cocktail parties are long and all bullshit.”
Simpson seemed as surprised by his answering guffaw as Eddie was. “I take it, Commander, that you are not enamored of the, er, ‘social consequences’ of being accompanied by your wife?”
“Sir, I would be more enamored of taking a bath with a barracuda. Even though Anne Cathrine isn’t a genuine princess, Daddy is sure acting like she is. I now have my very own traveling rump court. Well, it’s not my court. I’m just a part of it. An increasingly lowly part of it.”
Simpson frowned. “Yes, and from what I understand, Christian IV has saddled you with another senior naval officer, which bumps you yet another place down the chain of command.”
“Oh, that’s not even the worst part.” Eddie tried to succumb to the urge to whine, which was attempting to scale the none-too-high walls of his Manly Reserve.
“Oh?” Simpson now seemed more amused that sympathetic.
“Admiral, you haven’t heard the latest roster of my fellow-travelers. Essentially, Anne Cathrine, not being a genuine princess, doesn’t warrant genuine ladies in waiting. So we get a collection of other problematic persons from, or associated with, the Danish court, plus naval wives who have been given land grants in the New World.”
One of Simpson’s eyebrows elevated slightly. “But Christian IV doesn’t have any New World land to grant.”
“Not yet.”
Simpson frowned. “I see. So I’m guessing that, along with the not-quite royal contingent, we have a just barely official entourage of courtesans, councilors, and huscarles? Some of whom enjoy special appointments by, and are probably assigned to carry out undisclosed missions for, His Royal Danish Majesty?”
“Yep, pretty much, sir.”
Simpson nodded. “Yes, leave it to him to sneak in something like this in exchange for the ships he’s committing to the expedition. Given the condition in which we received those hulls, I’m not so sure he isn’t getting the better end of the deal.” Simpson fixed Eddie with a suddenly intent stare. “Has he either intimated or overtly instructed you to take any orders directly from him?”
“No, sir. Why?”
Simpson rubbed his chin. “Well, because technically he could try to work that angle.”
“I’m not sure I follow, sir.”
Simpson steepled his fingers. “In recognition of your marriage and service, Gustav made you Imperial Count of Wismar. That made you imperial nobility of the USE. Technically. And that made it easy — well, easier — for Christian to get the nobles of his Riksradet to accept your creation as a Danish noble, too.”
Eddie blinked. “Sir, I’m not a Danish noble. Not really.”
“No? If I’m not mistaken, one of Christian’s wedding gifts to you was land, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Some miserable little island in the Faroes. I think it has a whopping population of ten. That includes the goats.”
Simpson did not smile. “And since your received the land as part of a royal patent, you were made a herremand, weren’t you?”
“Uh — yes, sir. Something like that. I didn’t pay too much attention.”
“Well, you should have, Commander. You became Danish nobility when you accepted that land. And therefore, a direct vassal of King Christian IV. Who, unless I’m much mistaken, has bigger things in mind for you. In the meantime, we’d better inform the task force’s captains that, in place of all that pipe they were going to be hauling, they’re going to be billeting more troops. A lot more troops.”
Eddie was relieved. The mission was no longer purely reconnaissance, although that was not common knowledge. Not even among all the members of the ER Department. “How many more sir, and where from?”
“Just under four hundred, Commander. And all from the Lowlands.”
“So they’re Dutch.”
Simpson shook his head. “No. They’re from the Brabant.”
Eddie stared. “From the Spanish Lowlands?”
Simpson simply nodded.
“Sir — we’re taking Spanish soldiers to fight for us in the Spanish-held New World?”
“Commander, here’s what I know currently. The troops are being provided by the Archduchess Infanta Isabella. As I understand it, these troops will have sworn loyalty to her nephew Fernando the King in the Low Countries, but not her older nephew, Philip the king of Spain.”
“But Fernando is Philip’s younger brother, his vassal — “
“Precisely. And that’s why we’re going to stop our speculations right there, Commander. The story behind Fernando sending troops with us to assist Dutch colonial interests in the New World is one that is well above your pay grade at this early point in the process. I know that because it’s above my pay grade. I am not yet on the political ‘need to know’ list. And I suspect the mystery will remain right up until the Infanta’s troops are being berthed aboard your flotilla. Which probably won’t happen until the very last possible day.”
Eddie shook his head. “Every day, this ‘little reconnaissance mission’ not only gets bigger and more complicated, it gets increasingly surreal.” Eddie glanced at the map of the Caribbean that Simpson had produced from his own folders. “Hell, we can’t even be sure that there are any remaining Dutch colonies for us to help. And vice versa.”
Simpson spread his hands on his desk. “Well, we know that once the Dutch West India Company got their hands on the histories in Grantville, they got a two-year head start on their colonization of St. Eustatia in the Leeward Islands. By their own report, they redirected some of their best administrators there last year. Notably, Jan van Walbeeck, whom history tells us was very effective in improving the situation down in Recife.”
Eddie shrugged. “And who returned to the Provinces from there just a week before Admiral Tromp arrived in Recife with the remains of the fleet that was shattered at the Battle of Dunkirk. Pity Tromp and Walbeeck couldn’t have overlapped even a few days in Recife. If they had, we’d know a lot more about how the situation in the New World may be changing.”
“Quite true. But at least we know that Tromp arrived in Recife, and was making plans to relocate, since the colonies in that part of South America were untenable after the destruction of the Dutch fleet at Dunkirk.”
“Yes, sir, but relocate to where? The two or three friendly ships that have come from the New World since the middle of last year can’t tell us. Even the jacht that Tromp himself sent last March only confirmed that he expected to commence relocating in April, but not where.”
Simpson scoffed. “And can you blame him for not being specific? Imagine if the Spanish had stumbled across that ship, seized it, interrogated the captain. Then they’d know where to find him. From an operational perspective, every day that Tromp can work without Spanish detection is a found treasure. He will have to ferry a sizable population — well, ‘contingent’ — from Recife to whatever new site he’s selected, house those people, find a reliable source of indigenous supplies, establish a patrol perimeter, fortifications. All without any help from back home. He has his work cut out for him, Commander.”
“Agreed, sir. But the flip side is that while we’re coming with the help he almost surely needs, we don’t know where to deliver it to him.”
“No, but we know the best places to look. Right now, there are three noteworthy Dutch colonies in the Caribbean and the northern littoral of South America. We know they’ve sent people and supplies to St. Eustatia. We know there’s a small settlement on Tobago, just northeast of Trinidad. And we know that they sent an expedition under Marten Thijssen last year to take Curaçao.”
“And that assumes Thijssen’s mission was a success.”
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The Spanish Main and the Indies are held by a hostile power. Why all these wives? Why their retinue—with or without secret agendas? Why spend precious space and food and water on non-combatants?
Loosing sailors and marines is one thing. A gaggle of noblewomen lost in battle will be a public relations nightmare for the USE, and especially in the Union of Kalmar.
You are observing the events through a 21st century optical device. In the 17th century, childbirth was much more dangerous then war. Females drove the wagons west in America centuries later.
In the neolithic the Male stood in the front of the cave with his pointy stick keeping the hungry critters at bay. His female mate stood behind him with a stone knife dealing with the leakers.
It’s not sexism. I don’t object to Ann Koudsi embarking. She has essential work to do.
I see no point in carrying people who are not only non-essential but useless. They still eat. They still drink. They still take up hold space. They still use space and material that could be better spent on useful passengers.
If the ship goes down through weather or reef or cannon balls, they are still a political firestorm in Denmark.
Sorry, IMO you’re trading a possible “political firestorm” for an actual “political firestorm” if the noble wives aren’t allowed on board.
This discussion is finally reminding me that, up until 1860 or so, battles were still sometimes considered a spectator sport. The idea that you didn’t want to be in a war zone was for peasants.
(IIRC, the First Bull Run disabused even Americans of that idea.)
I would think that sending females would increase the chance of hostages that the Spanish could take and ransom. I would have advised against it from that standpoint. Perhaps these are expendable noble ladies. Are any of these wearing red and beaming down with Captain Kirk?
Wait…The entire 1632 universe is a projection on the Enterprise’s Holodeck?
Say it isn’t so!
Another factor that you looking at from a 20th century perspective. Wives were more property and part of a business deal than feelings. Then there’s the common belief that they didn’t even have a soul. And loss of life wasn’t as big of a deal back then as it is today. After all, plagues did away with large groups of people all the time back then not to mention massacres,
Women lack souls? What denomination do you have in mind?
In general, Christianity doesn’t think much of women. (Not that it’s very fond of men, either.) But I’ve never heard of Christians claiming women were soulless.
The myth of soul-less women has been around since the late 16th century. Professor Michael Nolan wrote an excellent, brief history of the myth in 1997 for the journal First Things. He notes that the myth is firmly established in Western culture, despite extensive documentary evidence that it is not, and never was, true.
The satirical website landoverbaptist.org also has a piece about soul-less women that is hilarious if you realize it’s satire and disturbing if you don’t. :-)
Don’t forget too that Simpson’s taskforce is likely to be in the Carribean for an extended period of time and likely establishing a new colony or colonies so you’d want the wives along anyway.
If you want to pioneer, married couples are a great idea. You want farmers and carpenters and blacksmiths. You want coopers and cart wrights, hunters and miners. All with helpmeets knowledgeable about hubby’s trade.
But noblewomen? Why? Noblewomen may be good at wearing court gowns and reading sermons. At embroidery and court gossip. There’s not a lot of call for that in log cabin communities.
Just think of the daft things that the Jamestown settlers brought with them . Or rather did not bring with them I doubt that a bunch of Danes only a few years later would be a lot more practical
I am. And I’m thinking of the resulting death rate. You’d probably have a better chance of surviving on a battlefield.
As I recall, the Danes had very isolated places in the Faroes, and likely had a somewhat clearer idea about what to bring for colonies.
Don’t forget too that many of the initial English colonists were Puritans aka religious bigots/zealots trying to get away from the church of England so I doubt that many of them had practical skills.
Huh?
Sorry but the Puritans and Pilgrims made mistakes but also had plenty of practical skills necessary for survival in the New World.
The problem with the Jamestown colony was that most were looking to find gold and other treasures in the New World.
Those “religious bigots” brought plenty of practical skills with them.
The Pilgrims intended to settle further south. They only landed at Plymouth Rock because they ran out of beer. The original plan was to stay just long enough to brew a new batch.
Bring a brewer. There’s practical colony planning.