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Chapter 13. Attack.

August 1499. Coquibacoa, Venezuala.

 

De Hojeda called the entire crew together to give them instructions. After hearing de Hojeda’s plans, Vespucci became alarmed. De Hojeda planned on a siege similar to the previous attack on the Spanish ship, by feigning friendship, and then slaughtering the crew after boarding. Aside from being sickened by more violence, Vespucci was afraid that the plan might lead to an all-out war between Spain and England. If that occurred, they could all be hanged. He pulled Admiral de Hojeda aside and spoke to him privately.

“Admiral, I admire you for your bravery, but I think this planned attack is foolhardy,” said Vespucci. “If we attack an English ship without provocation, it could lead to war.”

“You are scared? Is that it, Vespucci?” de Hojeda laughed, mocking the older and taller Vespucci. “No backbone in you? Do not worry. You do not have to fight. We will do all the fighting.”

“Admiral, with all due respect, these Englishmen have done nothing wrong. Why must you attack them?”

“’Done nothing wrong?’ Amerigo, surely you are aware of the Treaty between Spain and Portugal? All of these western lands are Spanish territory. These Englishmen are trespassing in our waters. They must be punished. They have taken gold that belongs to Spain, and I aim to get it back.”

“The King will not want this. It will start a war. We could all be hanged.”

“Amerigo, do not be afraid. I have it on good authority that the King will back anything I do here with these Englishmen. Perhaps you are squeamish because the captain of the English ship is an Italian like you.”

“An Italian?”

“Yes,” said de Hojeda. “I am almost certain that the ship is being captained by Zuan Chabotto, or as the English call him, John Cabot. They say he is originally from Venice.”

Vespucci did not care if he was Italian. He just wanted no more bloodshed. He considered the matter.

“Admiral, if, in fact, this captain is Italian, then you will need someone to communicate with him who speaks Italian. Let me go with you on the boarding party and speak to him, and I can translate for you.”

De Hojeda considered the matter. They would have to get onto the boat for their plan to work. The English would need someone they could trust. Yes, it seemed like a good idea.

“Very well, you and Juan will accompany me and some of the other men on the boarding party. Try and get their trust. Tell them we come in peace. Then, when the time is right, and they are not ready, we will take them.”

“Admiral, from what I understand, John Cabot has sailed many leagues. He may have discovered lands no Spaniard has yet seen. His nautical maps would be worth a great deal to Spain. If we act too rashly, all of the maps could be lost. Perhaps we could just barter with the Englishmen without attacking them. They agree to let us look at their maps and we agree to leave them in peace, unmolested.”

De Hojeda looked at Vespucci. This coward was really irritating him. He was not about to bargain with anyone. A real man took what was his, and that was that. But Vespucci made a good point about the maps. Those could be worth something. He decided it would be better to keep Vespucci in the dark until the last minute.

“Amerigo, I like your plan. We will gain the Englishmen’s friendship, and then we will bargain for the maps. Now get ready. We board in a few minutes.” The men scurried around the deck making arrangements. Vespucci went to the other side of the ship and watched as the large English ship came closer. The ship had extensive damage. It was covered in teredos and barnacles. The main mast had extensive damage.

As the ship came towards them, Amerigo stood on the railing and called out to the captain of the other ship in Italian.

“Ho, there, Captain. This is the Esperanza. We are from Spain. We come in peace. Do you need help?”

The other captain stood near his own railing. “If you are from Spain,” said the captain, “Why do you speak Italian?”

“Like you,” said Vespucci, “I travel with friends who are not my countrymen.”

John Cabot seemed satisfied. There were no outward signs of aggression from this ship, and, after all, one of their crew spoke Italian. That had to be good. In addition, his ship needed repairs and supplies. Perhaps these foreigners could help. But Cabot was also somewhat suspicious. The Spaniards had a long history of conquering first and asking questions later.

“Why don’t you come over with your captain and a small party and we can talk?” said Cabot.

“Very well,” said Vespucci.

“What did they say?” asked de Hojeda.

“They want you and I and a small group to come over and meet their captain. And you were correct, that is John Cabot.”

“Excellent,” beamed de Hojeda. “Men, get the rowboat!”

Vespucci went to speak with Juan de la Cosa, the ship’s cartographer and second-in-command. De la Cosa would be accompanying them on the rowboat. De la Cosa had been the captain of the Santa Maria on Columbus’ 1492 voyage to the New World.

“Juan,” said Vespucci. “You realize this is a very delicate situation. We cannot attack these Englishmen unless they attack us first. If we do, we could start a war.”

“I know, Amerigo. Everything will be okay, don’t worry.”

“Okay, well, whatever you do, don’t start firing. Let’s try to handle this diplomatically. If they will let us look at their maps, that alone could be worth a small fortune. If we kill them all before we learn anything…well, you know what the pirates say. Dead men tell no tales.”

“Quite right,” said de la Cosa.

Vespucci, de la Cosa, de Hojeda, and six other sailors boarded the small rowboat and sailed over to the English ship, where they were brought aboard by the English crew. Vespucci looked at some of the crew members on the English boat. They looked terrible. Many of them looked sick with malaria. Some looked haggardly and exhausted. Obviously, this had been a very difficult voyage. The captain, on the other hand, looked fresh and buoyant.

“Hello, my friend,” said Cabot in Italian. “This is my doctor and friar, Giovanni Antonio de Carbonariis. He is also Venetian. The rest of my crew is from Bristol. Have you been there?”

“Yes,” said Vespucci. “Many times. The cod trade there is very good.”

“Yes,” said Cabot, “I used to work on the docks of Bristol, hauling in and cleaning the cod as they came in off the ships. That’s a smelly business, I will tell you.” Cabot laughed.

De Hojeda whispered something to Vespucci.

“Ah, Captain Chabotto, this is our captain, Admiral de Hojeda. And may I also introduce Juan de la Cosa, captain of Columbus’ Santa Maria, and these are some of our other men.” Vespucci made the rest of the introductions and the men shook hands.

De Hojeda spoke next, in Spanish. “Captain, I would like to welcome you to Spanish waters. As you know, by Papal decree, all of these waters belong to Spain. You are a Roman Catholic, sir, as I understand it, so surely you are aware of this decree by His Excellency. You are our most welcome guest.”

Vespucci looked nervous and translated for de Hojeda. Cabot looked tense and uncomfortable, and responded in Italian.

“Thank you, Captain. I am most certainly a Catholic, and I would always respect and obey the commandments from the Pope on matters of religion, but on matters of exploration and national sovereignty, I believe the Pope may be speaking outside of his area of authority. We recognize the natural law of discovery, recognized by mariners everywhere, which holds that he who discovers a new land may claim that land for his own country or kingdom or prince, as your most noble Christopher Columbus and Captain de la Cosa here have done in claiming Hispaniola for Spain.”

Vespucci translated again, fearing that this conversation was going south quickly. He saw de Hojeda give a grimaced smile. Clearly, the man was ready to blow. Vespucci turned to Cabot.

“Captain, they cannot understand what I say to you now because they do not speak Italian. But let me assure you that this man you are dealing with here is a most violent and ruthless man. You do not want to anger him. Might I propose that we retire to your quarters and attempt to negotiate a truce peaceably? I assure you that I am the most reasonable man on this ship.”

Cabot looked at de Hojeda, sizing him up, and then turned back to Vespucci and nodded.

De Hojeda turned to Vespucci. “What did you say?”

“I told him that Spain is asserting her rights under the Papal Decree and he had better listen to us or he would be sorry. He has agreed to take us to his quarters to negotiate.”

De Hojeda grumbled. He did not like negotiating. They had wasted enough time already. Once de Hojeda saw the condition of these Englishmen, he knew that his men could kill them easily. He was not going to negotiate anything.

When they got to Cabot’s quarters below decks, Cabot, his friar, and his cartographer sat on one side of a large wooden table. Vespucci, de Hojeda and de la Cosa sat on the other side. The captain brought mugs of ale and some cooked rabbit stew. It was delicious. Vespucci wondered where Cabot had obtained rabbits. De Hojeda was friendly, and regaled the other captain with tales from their voyages, with special emphasis on the naked women of Trinidad. Vespucci could see what de Hojeda was doing. He was buying time, waiting for nightfall.

Vespucci started thinking fast. If he did not do something quickly, as soon as night fell, all of these men would be slaughtered. Over the next hour, Vespucci hatched a plan to save the members of the English ship.

Vespucci spoke in Italian to Cabot. “Do not show any alarm on your face as to what I am about to say. Captain, do not be fooled by these men. They are going to kill you and everyone on your ship in a matter of minutes.” Cabot instinctively put his hand on his sword under the table and grimaced, but tried to stay calm. He knew his men were outnumbered and were too weak to endure an attack from the Spanish ship. But maybe this Italian, whatever his angle was, could help them. Vespucci continued.

“I am trying to help you because I do not want to start a war between Spain and England. Captain, all these Spaniards care about is gold. So you have to convince them that you know where a great treasure trove of gold is. Tell him that you recognize that these are Spanish waters, and that you will take them to the place where the gold is. And then somewhere along the way, you must try to escape. That is your only hope.”

“What are you saying?” asked de Hojeda in Spanish.

“I told them again that these are Spanish waters and that they are to turn over all of their gold and treasure to you.”

De Hojeda seemed satisfied with that.

Cabot got ready to begin his fish story. He pulled a large map from a cabinet and placed it out on the large table. Vespucci translated as the captain spoke.

“Captain de Hojeda. We recognize your claim to these waters, as you say. And we are happy to point you to an incredible place that the Taino Indians call The City of Gold. In this city, the walls and temples are all made of gold. It is the greatest treasure the world has ever seen. It is here.” Cabot drew an X on the map in the middle of the Bay of Veragua, near the location of the island of Boyuca. Cabot’s hope was that de Hojeda would meet the same fate as the Ethiopian. De Hojeda’s eyes lit up as he studied the map. Now that is a place he needed to see.

Cabot could see the calculation in de Hojeda’s eyes. All de Hojeda needed was for the captain to lead him to this city of gold. De Hojeda would have no need for Cabot’s crew. Cabot had to make his own crew indispensable too.

“Captain de Hojeda, there is so much gold there that your one ship would not have the space to carry all the gold. If you help us fix up our ship, then you will be able to haul twice the amount of gold back to Spain. We would help you, provided that you gave us a fair percentage of the gold, of course. Say, one-quarter?” Cabot almost coughed on these words. Had there really been a city of gold, he would no more give it to this pirate than spit on his own grandmother. But he sensed that the pirate would be blinded by greed. Perhaps the Italian’s plan would work?

“No,” said de Hojeda, calmly walking behind Cabot. “That percentage is unacceptable.” Before Vespucci could say another word, de Hojeda took out his dagger and sliced the throat of Cabot’s doctor, killing him instantly. Cabot was shocked, as this friar was his lifelong friend. De Hojeda quickly stabbed Cabot’s cartographer in the throat, sending blood spurting out on the floor as he grasped for his throat. Then de Hojeda turned his bloody blade on Cabot. Instinctively, de la Cosa drew his sword and, in support of his captain, aimed it at Cabot.

“Captain, your percentage will be zero. Now, gather up all your maps and logs, and quietly walk with us to the rowboat. If you mention a word to your men, we will butcher them all, one by one in front of you, and then we will kill you after you have witnessed the killing of your last man. If you cooperate, we will spare your crew. We are going to take a little visit to our ship.”

Cabot stared at de Hojeda in hatred. The friar was his best friend. Ruthlessly murdered. Cabot did not care now if he lived or died. He would give this Spaniard nothing. Vespucci was disgusted. His plan to save the Englishmen had failed. Vespucci felt guilty and looked at Cabot as if to apologize. Cabot did not return his gaze. Vespucci gathered up Cabot’s maps and logs and the four men walked silently in the night air, lowering themselves into the rowboat. When they were safely on board the Spanish vessel, de Hojeda locked Cabot in the ship’s hold. Then, abandoning his pledge, he instructed his men to open fire on the damaged English ship. Within a matter of minutes, John Cabot’s ship was on the floor of the Gulf of Venezuala.

Over the course of the next seven days, de Hojeda turned his course to the Bay of Veragua, or what is now known as the Bay of Honduras. During that time, he tortured Cabot every day, trying to get him to pinpoint the exact location of the City of Gold. Cabot stubbornly refused to say anything. By the seventh day, Cabot had lost one eye, had burn marks all over his torso, and two knife scars on his cheek. De Hojeda eventually became convinced that Cabot had made the whole story up. Disgusted, he brought the captain to the top deck, with his hands bound with rope. He gave Cabot one more chance. When Cabot refused, he stabbed Cabot in the gut with his knife and then kicked him overboard.

There was nothing Vespucci could do but look on helplessly as the Englishman floundered in the choppy waves. Vespucci looked off in the distance and saw an island. Perhaps Cabot could make it to shore? Vespucci was skeptical of Cabot’s chances. The blood from that wound would draw every shark within five miles. Vespucci grimly looked over the waters and watched Cabot desperately attempt to get free and swim. It was monstrous. Vespucci felt a chill of guilt run through his spine. Yet really, he thought, there was nothing he could do.