Juan shrugged. “You did the best you could with the resources you had. The Dutch lost a few ships, got a good scare that should give them pause, and ran away. Now, we have coast-watchers who may give us more timely warning of any subsequent approach. And soon, we shall bring the war to these pestiferous ‘allies.’”
“Yes, and we’ve some good officers with which to do it. You know, Juan, I shall confess: I had my reservations about de Covilla when you first introduced us. But beneath that refinement, he’s a good soldier. Last one off his galleon before it sank. His men admire his cool demeanor under fire, and they came under fire enough, from those steamships.”
Juan traced the rim of his wineglass with his finger. “I have meant to ask: why did you put him up at the head of the van, closest to the steamships? Particularly if you had reservations about his, er, puissance?”
Fadrique shrugged. “By that time, I had revised my initial opinion of him. I also needed a person who knew our entire strategy to manage the pace and range of our retreat before the up-time ships. Most commanders would either have run, or turned and fought. And died. I needed a commander who could resist those two extreme impulses, and who was in our confidence regarding the trap we were setting with the southern privateer force.” Fadrique snagged the decanter and poured another two fingers of rioja. “Now, de Covilla has seen combat, has had a ship shot out from under him, and did not flinch. And I know I have an excellent officer, in the bargain.”
“Who seems to be making excellent progress with the ladies of my city, this evening.”
“Well, it always helps to be a dashing, well-dressed war hero with one’s arm in a sling, but with all his pieces still attached. As I said, a fine celebration you have hosted, Juan. And I would rather be here, in good, trustworthy company, than among the viperous grandees that will be clotting the king’s ballroom in Madrid.”
“Yes, and I wonder how welcome either one of us would be there, given what news we would have to report, and what Olivares might think of our resolve to renew our shipbuilding.”
Fadrique frowned as he rolled the glass between his palms meditatively. “Since most of the ships we are building shall not qualify as workhorses for La Flota, and since they are coming from our own pockets, I wonder how much he can object. Although it will be the devil’s own work getting him to send over the chandlery and cannon we need for them. But I think he will see the merits of spending a few thousand reales once in order to secure the delivery of several millions of them every year. Olivares is often foolish, but still, is no fool. He must know that we cannot brook a serious naval rival in the New World and be able to assure the safety of his treasure fleets. Thanks to your first message, and the one just sent, he should have time to add extra galleons to the fleet he is sending in March. That way, the Dutch and their ‘allies’ will find it painfully difficult to plunder it when it finally departs Havana with its riches, in late summer.”
Juan shrugged. “That presumes he has the ships to spare. So long as Olivares is committed to blockading the English Channel as close as we can to the Dutch coast, too many of our ships are tied down to their duties in Europe.”
“Yes, but if Olivares lifts the blockade it will go even worse for us.” Fadrique leaned forward. “From what I hear, the Dutch continue to build ships in Amsterdam’s ways. As it is, more of their ships will begin appearing in these waters. If Oquendo’s fleet is called away or significantly reduced to assist with matters elsewhere, the Dutch will come here in still greater numbers.”
Juan nodded. “And then our ability to wear this Allied fleet down will be seriously reduced.”
“Exactly. Which are just a few of the reasons why we must push Havana’s Captain-General Gamboa to bring de Armendáriz and New Spain in line with our resolutions. He must add the weight of his funds and his shipyards to our own. Similarly, we must get the viceroy of Peru, and de Murga in Cartagena to awaken the slumbering audiencias of Tierra Firma and make their own contributions.” Fadrique lifted his glass. “Coordination and cooperation, my dear Juan. In the months to come, these must be our cardinal virtues. And if we would hope to see another New Year, we must accept that we will live or die by how well we achieve them—or not.”
Oranjestad, St. Eustatia
In Oranjestad’s newly completed governor’s house, Eddie retreated from the dance floor, assisted by Anne Cathrine. His stump, still recovering from the long hours on deck and the constant tension of both actual and impending battle, was not cramping yet, but he could tell that if he didn’t give it a rest, his wife would spend the rest of the evening without a regular dance partner.