On Thursday, Anthony held another meeting of the officers of the Windward Regiment, and they voted enthusiastically to defect to the side of the fleet. After all, they reasoned, had not an honorable peace already been refused by the extremists in the Assembly? That night he so advised Edmond Calvert, demanding as conditions a supply of musket shot and fifty kegs of musket powder.
This morning just before dawn a longboat from the Rainbowe had returned Calvert's reply—a signed acceptance of the terms. With feelings mixed and rueful, he had ordered an English flag hoisted above the breastwork at Oistins, the agreed-upon signal to Calvert. Then, to ensure security, he ordered that no militiaman be allowed to leave Oistins till the ships of the fleet had put in and landed their infantry.
The Rainbowe led the eight warships that entered the bay at midafternoon. Anthony had seen Edmond Calvert mount the quarterdeck to watch as the guns in the breastwork were turned around and directed inland, part of his conditions. Then the admiral had ordered a longboat lowered and come ashore. . . .
"These supplies all have to be delivered now, before dark." Anthony was still scrutinizing the list. "Or my men'll not be in the mood to so much as lift a half-pike."
What matter, Calvert told himself. It's done. The Barbados landing is achieved. The island is ours. "You'll have the first load of powder onshore before sundown." He gestured toward the paper. "Your musket shot, and the matchcord, are on the Marsten Moor, but I think we can have the bulk off-loaded by then too."
"What of the rest of the powder, sir?" Walrond squinted at the list with his good eye. "That was our main requirement. Some of these regiments had little enough to start with, and I fear we'll be needing yours if there's any fighting to be done."
Good Christ. Calvert cast a dismayed look toward Morris. Had I but known how scarcely provisioned their forces were, I might well not have . . .
"Well, sir. What of the powder?" Anthony's voice grew harder. "We can choose to halt this operation right now if . . ."
"I've ordered ten kegs sent ashore. Surely that should be adequate for the moment. You'll have the rest by morning, my word of honor." He squinted toward the horizon. "How much time do you think we've got to deploy the infantry?"
"Less than we'd hoped. We heard the signal for Oistins being sent up the coast about half an hour past." Walrond turned and followed Calvert's gaze. The sun was a fiery disc above the western horizon, an emblem of the miserable Caribbees ever reminding him of the England he had lost. "If their militia plans to meet us, they'll likely be assembling at Bridgetown right now. It's possible they'll be able to march some of the regiments tonight. Which means they could have men and cavalry here on our perimeter well before dawn."