New Spain; an Irishman's Chronicle

**Samuel Adams** · November 01, 2007, 01:14 PM

"My name is Kyle Kennedy. I know I am an old man; I have lived in peace in this tavern in Killkenny for many years, and told this story to many a passing traveler. You lads are the possible the last to hear it as the physicians tell me I've not long to live before my end.

My story begins in Cork in 1515. My father was the magistrate of the town, a petty noble of mixed Irish-English bloodlines who had earned his post fighting native rebels with an English commander there. Hence we were not well liked by the Irish commoners, tho I meself had reasons for hating my father beyond his politics; that is one thing in my seventy long years I never learned.

I digress. That year, 1515, was a turning point in my life. I was slothering drunk in my uncle's tavern (on my mother's side, the O'Rielly's) in Cork one eve' as a English lord's son came in for a brew. Being a well known person in that town (we were petty nobles to be sure, but among the lower class social circle I was well known at the age of 17) and somewhat of the nobility the man singled me out as a guide. Being, as I was, no politician t'all, I less than kindly told him I was no man's guide but my own, which was a hard enough job as the lasses of the tavern would lead any normal leaning man astray.

Next thing I know he presents me with his titles (of which many sounded queer, as if made up on the spot-I had yet to hear of the oddities of Franco-Anglo 'nobility') and draws his sword. I was no politician, but a faster man with a sword in town there was but one, and that was my tutor.

After he was done with his flowery speech, I had the last of my glass of stout drained and drew my rapier. 'Very well Angle, let us see just how fast your sword is compared to your ego!'

Before he could parry my first thrust I was hilt deep into his chest looking into his eyes. His servant looked at me and picked up his master's sword with wide eyes; being the only English Protestant in the room I suppose he figured he was done for. I was a brash lad, but no murderer. 'Drop it, man, I have no quarrel with you,' I said, sheathing my sword. His master's sword was pointed at me, and he struck with no certainty at me with it. I moved aside and my elbow found the back of his neck, dropping the poor man to the floor. Placing a coin on the counter for my drink and for the trouble, I left to tell my father what had happened.

'You fool! That man's father is my benefactor at court!' my father shrieked at me. 'I have no choice but to imprison you and put you on trial for murder.'

Now mind you lads, my father was that in name only. A more self-centered man had never been known to Cork. My mother had died a lonely woman when I was three, and I was brought up with my tutor, who had taught me only basics in books, but the finest swordsmanship available. So it was no surprise to me that my father valued his post over my life with no hesitation, and my older brother would be able to carry on the family name, so my loss meant nothing to him.

Hence I went back to the tavern to speak to my uncle.

'Kyle there is a fishing vessel (that was our speak for a smuggler; a fishing boat was a fisherman) leaving tonight on a journey south. Go home, pack some clothes and be at the wharf in the first hour after midnight. The fisherman's name is Ralph. Tell him that John Sheen sent you. He'll know what that means.'

Thanking him and kissing my aunt and cousins goodbye I set out. My home was already busy with the town guard looking for me; no matter, I was good friends with them all and they all had a price; a low one, to be sure, so a pence would get me into the house with no alarm.

Having effected my entrance and exit with my bundles, I set out for the wharfs where more guards were posted over the actual shipping vessels. The Fishing docks were unguarded, and I set out to find the Captain named Ralph.

I found him, and to cut short a long boring story about a young man's first time at sea, we landed in Spain at night several weeks later. I had taken a love for the ocean I never knew, and the captain praised me for my help in manning his boat on the voyage.

Not knowing a word of the native tongue I set out. San Sebastian was the name of the city; not much was going on there, and I found a tavern where the only common language the people and I spoke was coin. I got a glass of wine, and asked if there were any English or French speaking people around. A man in the tavern spoke French poorly as did I, and so after a half an hour attempting to communicate I found out where a Frenchman lived that would see me.

'Hello, monsieur,' the man said as I was shown into his study, 'how may I help you?'

'I am Kyle Kennedy, a rather unlucky Irishman who by fault of my own am seeking work or accommodation in this place. I was pointed here as I speak no Spanish.'

'Well young sir, I can not offer you any work now, as I am myself a rather poor man. However, if you travel to Barcelona you will find more people that speak your tongue, as well as work. You may stay here tonight; tomorrow I will find you a means of travel to the City.'

The next morning I was on a newly-purchased horse on the road to Barcelona. It was a grueling journey and the evenings were spent under trees or in a cheap tavern, but no matter; I've long since forgotten the petty issues of that journey.

Upon my arrival there I quickly sought out the waterfront where most foreign merchants were quartered and offices were set up. Alas, lads, I did not ever make it to the office of an Irish, English, Scottish, or even French merchant. There on the wharfs was a boat going to the grandest little ship I'd ever seen, obviously about to set out on a long journey. I inquired as to where it was going to no avail until a man, well dressed, came over to me as I attempted to speak a poor form of French/Spanish. He addressed me in fluent English, though with a spicy sort of Spanish accent.

'This ship is headed to Havana. It will join another Spanish ship at Gibraltar, and the two ships are heading in a convoy to Cuba.'

'Where is that? I've never heard of such a place,' I asked.

'Alas, lad-the New World! New Spain! We leave in the morning for the place.'

'Have you any room left for one more, good sir?' I asked the man. 'I take it by your attire you are a noble?'

'I am, lad, I am; with who do I owe the pleasure?'

'I am Kyle Kennedy, the disenfranchised son of the Squire Kennedy, Lord Magistrate of Cork, Ireland. I am looking for a grand adventure, and was afraid I would have to gain employment on a French ship, sailing the old waters.'

'Well then,' the man responded heartily, 'come with us lad! We need one more good man, and the New World is a grand adventure indeed, tho I can by no means account for your safety.'

'If it was safe, sir, it would not be an adventure, then, would it?'

The man grinned; I had gained his liking, something that would pay off greatly in the future. 'Then Kennedy, do you have a purse?'

'I do.'

'Then go up this street here until you reach the sign with the sword and pike. There you will find an armorer who will be able to outfit you with the things you will need- a helm and curiass, namely-and a leather jerkin will also come in handy as well. You may also wish to stop and purchase some more clothing and several pairs of shoes, but as the man won't have time to make you any that may have to wait until we reach Havana.'

I followed the directions of the man and purchased the armor and found a pair of second hand boots as well that fit me finely, though I would buy more at Havana.

That night I was shown to my space on board the ship, where I laid down and thought about the adventures to come; everyone was speaking Spanish around me, and giving me odd looks; Finally my employer came down.

'Senior Kennedy, if you will follow me please,' he said, and I got up and followed him to the captain's mess.

He introduced me to the Captain in Spanish, and the captain rose and raised a glass of wine. I was given a glass as well, and we drank to what I assumed was the good will of the voyage, etc.

The next morning we had mass on board the vessel; It was in latin so I understood it for once. Then we commenced the voyage.

On the course of the voyage I learned much on sailing a ship. I was considered a young officer thanks to my status as 'nobility,' so most of my work was overseeing the soldiers aboard as they cleaned the decks or coiled rope. I started learning Spanish a little at a time, and my French was able to aid me in learning it faster than I could have without it.

For six weeks we sailed; the other ship had some problems with leaking in her hull, and we had a rough time of it trying to lighten her load by transferring the stores aboard to our vessel. All in all we made the voyage without losing a single man on either ship, and sailed into Havana Harbor later that same week to the salute of our ships' cannon!

The sights to behold! Natives with scarce any clothing and odd body paintings, the Europeans that had been there for some time themselves looking a bit ragged, and the primitive state of the city that was New Spain's Capitol lured me deeper and deeper. There was a very independent culture there, only offset by the Inquisition itself being there in the form of Jesuits and such. My employer, Don Diego Marquez Vasquez, took me and the other young officership of the latest arrivals to see the Governor, [COLOR=Black]Diego Velázquez de Cuéllar.

'Gentlemen,' he began, 'welcome to the new World! New Spain is ripe for the taking; we are planning an expedition to the mainland of New Spain in which some of you will take part. Those with letters of introduction will soon be able to set out for Vera Cruz, our fledgling colony there. Those who aren't will have much to do here. Welcome, gentlemen, and enjoy your evening.'

It was a splendid party! Natives were bringing in the food, and yet the air was one of pure Spaniard pride. There were not many women in the colony of yet, but the few that were there were either the wives of the Officers of the Crown, or were rather homely and rugged. Some of the native women were absolutely gorgeous in a rather exotic way, but were not to my tastes for a wife. I was not looking mind you, lads, but at 17 years I was raging with the longing of a youth; the only thing better was the adventure, and as I had no letter from a high-standing Spanish noble I would not be going to Vera Cruz.

In fact, I would find myself in Havana for almost three years!

Not much of note happened those three years; I was put into an office of the Courts as a lawyer for the Soldiers who were charged with petty crimes against the civilian populace of the town, so I was not busy at all. I went on a voyage with my sponsor, Don Vasquez, in a small caravel north one summer but we landed but once, on an island, and came back.

However, in spring of 1517 something did happen that spiked my interest and almost got my head lopped off.

A ship arrived from Spain-rather, a convoy of a Galleon and some smaller ships, 5 altogether-bearing the families of many of those that had been in Havana long enough to set up the facility for keeping a family. I was due in the court later that day to deal with a young soldier who's name I will never forget, as he later saved my life, a young Rodrigo Tellez. He was charged with stealing a chicken from a Spanish Farmer who had come to Havana and set up shop at exponential prices. In fact another man, a sailor, had stolen the chicken and set sail for Spain the next day, and so my case was easy. However, as the ships were offloading I was struck with a lady getting off the boat; a girl, more like; the most beautiful one I'd ever seen, and to this day ever have. Being on a tight schedule, I set off for the courthouse.

That evening the Governor hosted a ball for the newly arrived families, and I was invited. A young noble named Hernan Cortez was there as well, and we struck up a casual conversation. However, he moved on to other conversations with higher-ranking men than myself, and I set out to find the lovely woman who I had seen earlier that day.

I found her dancing with an older man who was a well-known merchant in Havana. Finding Don Diego, I causally remarked, 'Ferraro has quite the lovely wife, no? And young as well.'

'Aye, he does,' Don Diego responded. 'She's anything but faithful though; if I was you I would stay away. Before we left Spain she was known to be sleeping with three young nobles, and God himself only knows how many she took into her bed after we left. Rumor has it Ferraro is going to lock her away after tonight as he caught wind of her lack of fidelity.'

I was hoping he would have told me it was the man's daughter, but now I was disappointed-an emotion that would not last long I hoped.

I was right. Three months passed. Don Diego told me to seek out Captain Cortez in Santiago, Cuba, for a place in the last of three proposed expeditions to the Mexican lands west of Cuba. Taking a small vessel, I did so, and gained an entrance to see Cortez.

'Don Diego tells me, Kennedy, you are a stout man with a stout heart? I am in need of such, as the governor does not like me as he used to. However, I am leaving in a year's time for Mexico. You are welcome to accompany me as my Clerk; I understand you have a knack for being a quartermaster?'

'I served as an assistant quartermaster for a brief time in Havana for the depot there, sir. Just putting things aboard that needed to go and working with ships' quartermasters.'

'Good. Don Diego is a friend of mine, and is going as well. If he says you did well you did in my eyes, too. I would suggest you move your lodging to Santiago here, as this is our starting point.'

I moved my meager possessions into Don Diego's home until I could build my own, and began working out numbers. It was a tiresome task on days I had to work, but most days I was able to work at putting stores aboard vessels heading for Havana and then Hispaniola, so they would not have to stop at Havana more than a night.

About a week later, the Senora Ferraro came into my office. 'I need a vessel to Havana to see my husband, sir,' she began, 'and need to know when the next one leaves.'

'Senora, there is no telling. No vessels save one are in the harbor now; that one is heading to Mexico in a month with Don Hernandez, and the next two we know are arriving are going with him as well. I can have a servant alert you at your residence, however, when one arrives.'

'I would prefer you come yourself, sir,' the lady remarked, 'as I don't deal well with servants, and I have no one with me at my estate, if you can call it that, save two old men at arms in my husband's pay to ensure my fidelity to the old wretch.'

'Very well, m'lady, I will alert you as soon as one arrives.'

Well lads, I tire tonight; my story will continue tomorrow, as this old tavern is my home now, I will be here and will continue my chronicle."

**Samuel Adams** · November 01, 2007, 02:10 PM

"Well lads, these weary old bones are tired. I hope you all rested well, and as soon as the lass there brings my stout I'll continue the story.

Ah-now where was I? Yes, the Senora Ferraro!
Santiago in those days was a small colony, with not many people there. After my visit with the senora, I was once more burning with the fire of youth only to be expected of my 19 years of age. She was 27, a lovely woman with the air of a girl to her; a bird caged too young to fly but yearning for the experience.

I longed for a ship to come in from Havana, but alas, none did for over a week after our meeting. Captain Cortez would check on my work once a blue moon, and so I was left unhindered that week in my daydreaming. Finally the two ships come to join the Mexico expedition arrived; I was elated, and found out a boat was coming to Santiago from Havana the next day with black powder for the expedition. Mounting a horse belonging to Don Diego (he lent me the steed for use whenever I needed), I rode to the estate of Senora Ferraro.

There I was met by an old guard scarce able to stand up straight. 'I am here to deliver a message to the Senora, sir,' I said.

'Give it to me, and I shall deliver it to her.'

'I am under strict orders to deliver it myself, man, now I need to speak to her before the second coming!'

The man gruffly opened the gates and kicked the other guard, sleeping at the guardhouse. He too was old, but still able to wear a breastplate and helm.

'Ugh,' he said after hearing the news, and said 'I'll go find her, boy, but you remain here. She's a knack for lads like you getting into trouble.'

Senora Ferraro came out in all her glory; I can still smell her coming out of her estate in the morning air. She was in her gown and her hair was let down; a more stunning sight the host of Heaven's angels could not produce.

'Senora, there is a vessel coming in the morning. It will leave for Havana day after tomorrow.'

'Many thanks, Senior Kennedy,' she responded softly. 'Will you have wine with me? I have to make my own breakfast here, and it is hot; but at least my husband sends me wine from Spain.'

I dismounted and the two guards looked at each other. One took my horse and the other turned to the Senora.

'You know I will have to tell your husband about this, as all male visitors are to be reported?'

'Oh Raul take the man's horse and be gone. He's traveled from the village and the least I can do is offer him a drink.'

But lads, a drink was the last thing on her mind; as a gentleman and a knight of Spain's Crown (yes, you would never know-interesting tho, right lads?) I cannot speak of what happened in that hacienda.

Senora Ferraro left on the vessel and I went back to my work, dreaming of the day I could run off with my new found love and create an Irish Colony of our own. Ah, the dreams of youth...

Little did I know at that age the difference between love and lust, but after her return from Havana our affair continued. Don Diego knew it after I did not return home at nights for a time, but kept his quiet as a good friend does. One of the old Guardsmen died one night, lamented by his companion only, and in my time visiting the place myself to some extent; I was able to get them fine Spanish wine, clothing, and even a newspaper from the previous year in Barcelona to read, and in return they were quiet on our behalf.

Another year passed; it was now late in 1518, and Captain Cortez was imprisoned for a feud with the Governor. As I was and am no politician I cannot tell you what happened other than that Cortez had a hot head and a mutinous attitude; but our expedition was off twice, then on again. I was busy making the final preparations for our voyage when word came that Cortez would not be leading us!

Oh the anger in Don Diego's eyes as he heard the news. Cortez kept calm; in fact, he was unmoved. I too was infuriated! Diego and I spoke of going anyway, and Cortez calmly listened to our beseechment. That night I rode as usual to the Hacienda. Raul greeted me, and needing to speak more to a man I told him of the bad fortune.

'Raul, you have been good to me and Senora Ferraro. If we go-and we shall, though you did not hear it from me-I will need someone to help me with my quartermaster duties. Will you accompany us?'

'Well Kennedy,' the old man at arms replied, 'I would, though I would never keep up with the march anymore. Besides, the lady will still need guarding; now that Fernando is dead, God rest him, who would do this honor?'

I shook his hand and went on into the Hacienda. I had acquired for the Senora a native slave to cook and clean for her, and another to keep the grounds for her, as Raul was no longer fit to do much more than open the gate.

That night Isabel (her Christian name) calmed me down in ways no one else could, and I slept next to her like a baby.

I was awoken by the sound of horses; Diego was smart enough not to come to the Hacienda for me for fear of alerting the suspicions of the Merchant, who had some employees in the colony. Low and behold I heard the gruff voice of Ferraro himself! Aye lads it was bad for me and I knew it!

'Raul, who's horse is that?' I heard a slap, then Raul's feeble voice spoke and a sword was drawn. Going to the window of the bed chamber I saw Ferraro run the old man through, and a two guards drug him away. A crucifix I had given him from my Irish Archdiocese was ripped from his neck, and four more guards followed Ferraro inside. In all he had ten men with him; there was no way to fight my way out.

Senora Ferraro donned her gown quickly and I my pantaloons and shirt as Ferraro bust in through the door.

'You whore! I bring you where no man can find you and you resort to a mere boy! Both of you shall pay! Guards, take this man away. He will soon see how his skills of law uphold against this heresy!'

Ferraro was no good Catholic, but a politician he was, and would use that against me. I was taken away, and put in chains in the hold of a small ship going to Havana the next day.

Ferraro came down to my cell that afternoon. 'You fool. You will die by Sunday. No last mass for you! You Irish are all dogs; I cannot wait to see you paraded through Havana on your way to the axe. But before you die, I want you to know what happens to that whore of a wife of mine. She will be taken to a convent in Spain under the eyes of the Church, where her days will be spent in solitude and she will die old and lonely.'

On his way out I spit after him and yelled obscenities I dare not repeat now. I then heard him tell the guard, 'no food for that one, you hear?'

I was done for. It was the end of my rope, lads, I was sure!

Thank God for friends like Don Diego. He had different plans. He had befriended the priest of the town, and secured a letter that was ordained 'by God and the Authority of the Papacy' to have me questioned for Heresy by the priest. He was cold as he delivered the message; for a brief minute I thought even my good friend had turned against me. As he led me away, he whispered 'we leave tonight with Cortez. The priest is accompanying us, and Ferraro will not be able to follow. Cortez needs to speak to you now.'

I was afraid of what the man would say; but as I walked in to his chamber all doubts were laid aside. "I missed my voyage for New Spain in 1502 lad, when you were scarce three and I was your age. Do you know why?'

'No, sir, I do not.'

'I had to make an escape from a married woman's chamber in a bit of a hurry. Hurt my leg pretty bad, and missed the voyage altogether. So you will recieve no punishment from me. Tomorrow we sail. We will be out of sight before Ferraro knows you are gone.'

Alas, lads, I thought I had seen my lover for the last time as I embarked on that journey. But tonight the Stout goes to my head faster than usual; I will continue in the morn.

**Samuel Adams** · November 01, 2007, 02:51 PM

Well lads, let me tell you about New Spain; A city in New Spain was like a primitive town here in Ireland. So as I loaded two mighty culverins into the ships setting out for Mexico I was sure we would beat any force we came against; at least those refusing to revert to Catholicism. I had seen some of the natives of course; but most were becoming civilized in Cuba's Spanish towns, and so I had never really seen one of the Natives I would one day become all to familiar with; the Aztecs, among others... But the sight of the 600 men who would conquer Mexico loading with banners and armor gleaming in the sun was truly a sight to behold. Don Diego, a veteran of a European campaign, scoffed. 'This is no army, but less than a battalion. Sure, here it is might, but who knows how populated those jungles will be?'

Lo and behold we sailed, reaching Mexico in February of 1519. Nothing much happened at first. I stayed aboard the Ship to oversee the offloading of equipment. Then I had to make sure the ship's crews had enough to make it until we could secure more provisions; and alas, my timing was right in time for taking the city of Tabasco!

Our Culverins went into action against the gates; they were good for keeping arrows and infantry out of the town, but the people were arrogant in taking the stance against us they did. With one shot the gate was down; two towers with archers were blown away as well! Cortez was no fool; he had brought, on top of the 600 Spaniards, Native troops that were our front line men. There was no use in wasting Spaniard lives, not replaceable now that Cortez was acting against the Governor, when natives could do the job.

The natives! Oh how bright they were dressed, in skins of animals I'd never before seen. They fought savagely too; clubs and javelins were our enemies' weapons, and they used them against our native allies with great effect. However, the walls were taken and Spaniard Steel charged to take the day; we were unstoppable! I was on horse, and charged with the cavalry into the fray, where we cut the enemy down in droves!

The day was won! I learned a bit about myself that day as well; I had discovered my romantic side and my rash side-now I had discovered my bloody side! I was among those in front eagerly waiting my lance to find an enemy's breast, and when that was broke I did terrible execution against them with my sword. They fell where they stood, our musketeers scaring them and as they shuttered we cut them down again and again!

Finally they surrendered. Cortez was given twenty women as a gift and sign of goodwill, and the next day we marched. Reaching Vera Cruz we took the town out from the control of the Governor, and Cortez made it into his command post. Three Spaniards had been wounded in the battle; but we were in good spirits, and as we marched into Veracruz we dreamt of the Gold and Glory to be had in this new World; nobody knew just how much we would get, or how much blood we were going to spill to get it; but we would in the end get it.

No matter, as I oversaw the men going to bed that night and made sure the Guard was posted over the supply depot I could only think of Isabel and her fate. A convent! Women like that deserved to be King's wives; yet I could think of no king, not even my Irish Kings of old, that deserved her.

Oh how little I knew about the difference in love and lust, and how much time it took to tell the difference.

Lads, even if you make all other mistakes, never make that one; for it will lead to astray and feed you to the dogs.

I must go to my glass; I feel like solitude at the moment, but I shall continue my story tomorrow.

**Swagger** · November 02, 2007, 08:39 AM

too many text

how much time did you take to write this ?

**Graf von Watts** · November 02, 2007, 09:49 AM

I like the way you are writing this. Keep it up. The pictures add much.

**molonthegreat** · November 02, 2007, 10:17 AM

Good job keep it up.

**Samuel Adams** · November 02, 2007, 10:17 AM

@Swagger,
I'm a writer (or I try to be lol) so this is all part of my next book, of which you get a sneak peak, and hopefully my first to get published. Everything happening in the story happens before the Americas campaign starts, too - so that's why there's not alot of pics or screenshots. And it took me about 2 hours to actually write what is here down and formulate the story. I know the basic story line but the details always need changing or creating last minute to make the story flow.

Graf Von Watts, thanks for the comments. If the old man's bones aren't too weary later he may add on to his story...