Фредерик Марриет
Percival Keene
It then occurred to me that the weight of the planks upon the deck must not only keep the vessel deeper in the water, but make her more top-heavy, and I determined to throw them overboard; but first I looked for something to eat, and found plenty of victuals in the iron pot in which the men had cooked their supper the night before.
As soon as I had obtained from the cask lashed on the deck a drink of water, to wash down the cold fried ham which I had eaten, I set work to throw overboard the planks on deck.
When I had thrown over a portion from one side I went to the other, and threw over as many more, that I might, as much as possible, keep the vessel on an even keel.
This job occupied me the whole of the day; and when I had completed my task I examined the height of the water at the cabin ladder, and found that the vessel had risen more than six inches. This was a source of great comfort to me, and what pleased me more was, that the wind had gone down again, and the water was much smoother.
I made a supper off some raw ham, for the fire had been extinguished, and committing myself to the protection of Heaven, lay down as the sun set, and from the fatigue of the day was soon in a sound sleep.
I awoke about the middle of the night. The stars shone brightly, and there was but a slight ripple on the water.
I thought of my mother, of my aunt Milly, of Captain Delmar, and I felt for the seal-skin pouch which was fastened round my neck. It was all safe.
I calculated chances, and I made up my mind that I should be picked up by some vessel or another before long.
I said to myself—“Why, I am better off now than I was when in the wherry, with Peggy Pearson; I was saved then, why should I not be now?”
I felt no desponding, and lay down, and was soon fast asleep.
It was broad daylight when I awoke; I took my spy-glass, and looking round the horizon, discovered a vessel several miles off, standing towards me. This gave me fresh spirits.
I made a raw breakfast, and drank plenty of water as before. The wind, which was very light, increased a little. The vessel came nearer, and I made her out to be a schooner. In two hours she was close to me, and I waved my hat, and hallooed as loud as I could.
The schooner was full of men, and steered close to me—she was a beautiful craft, and, although the wind was so light, glided very fast through the water, and I could not help thinking that she was the pirate vessel which the frigate had been in chase of.
It appeared as if they intended to pass me, and I hallooed, “Schooner, ahoy! Why don’t you send a boat on board?”
I must say, that when the idea struck me that she was a pirate vessel, my heart almost failed me.
Shortly afterwards the schooner rounded to and lowered a boat, which pulled to the vessel. The boat’s crew were all negroes.
One of them said, “Jump in, you white boy; next jump he take be into the shark’s mouth,” continued the man, grinning, as he addressed himself to the others in the boat.
I got into the boat, and they rowed on board the schooner. I did then think that I was done for; for what mercy could I expect, being a king’s officer, from pirates, which the words of the negro convinced me they were?
As soon as I was alongside of the schooner, they ordered me to go up the side, which I did, with my spy-glass in my hand. I leaped from the gunwale down on the deck, and found myself on board of an armed vessel, with a crew wholly composed of blacks.
I was rudely seized by two of them, who led me aft to where a negro stood apart from the rest. A more fierce, severe, determined-looking countenance, I never beheld. He was gigantic in stature and limbed like the Farnesian Hercules.
“Well, boy, who are you?” said he, “and how came you on board of that vessel?”
I told him in very few words.
“Then you belong to that frigate that chased us the day before yesterday?”
“Yes,” replied I.
“What is her name?”
“The Calliope.”
“She sails well,” said he.
“Yes,” replied I; “she is the fastest sailer on this station.”
“That’s all the information I want of you, boy: now you may go.”
“Go where?” replied I.
“Go where?—go overboard, to be sure,” replied he, with a grin.
My heart died within me; but I mustered courage enough to say, “Much obliged to you, sir; but I’d rather stay where I am, if it’s all the same to you.”
The other negroes laughed at this reply, and I felt a little confidence; at all events, their good-humour gave me courage, and I felt that being bold was my only chance.
The negro captain looked at me for a time, as if considering, and at last said to the men, “Overboard with him.”
“Good-bye, sir, you’re very kind,” said I; “but this is a capital spy-glass, and I leave it to you as a legacy.” And I went up to him and offered him my spy-glass. Merciful Heaven! bow my heart beat against my ribs when I did this!
The negro captain took the glass, and looked through it.
“It is a good glass,” said he, as he removed it from his eyes. It was poor Green’s spy-glass, which he had given me for showing him the mason’s signs.
“Well, white boy, I accept your present; and now, good bye.”
“Good-bye, sir. Do me one kindness in return,” said I, very gravely, for I felt my hour was come.
“And what is that?” replied the negro.
“Tie a shot to my heels, that I may sink quickly; it won’t take them long.”
“You don’t ask me to spare your life, then?” replied the negro.
“He de very first white dat not ask it,” said one of the negroes.
“Dat really for true,” said another.
“Yes, by gum,” replied a third.
Oh, how I wished to know what to say at that moment! The observations of the negroes made me imagine that I had better not ask for it and yet how I clung to life! It was an awful moment—I felt as if I had lived a year in a few minutes. For a second or two I felt faint and giddy—I drew a long breath and revived.
“You don’t answer me, boy,” said the negro captain.
“Why should I ask when I feel certain to be refused? If you will give me my life, I will thank you: I don’t particularly wish to die, I can assure you.”
“I have taken an oath never to spare a white man. For once I am sorry that I cannot break my oath.”
“If that is all, I am a boy, and not a man,” replied I. “Keep me till I grow bigger.”
“By golly, captain, that very well said. Keep him, captain,” said one of the negroes.
“Yes, captain,” replied another; “keep him to tend your cabin. Proper you have white slave boy.”
The negro captain for some time made no reply; he appeared to be in deep thought. At last he said—
“Boy, you have saved your life: you may thank yourself and not me. Prossa, let him be taken below; give him a frock and trousers and throw that infernal dress overboard, or I may change my resolution.”
The negro who was addressed, and who wore a sort of uniform as an officer—which he was, being second mate—led me below,—nothing loth, I can assure my readers.
When I was between decks. I sat down upon a chest, my head swam, and I fainted. The shock had been too powerful for a lad of my age. They brought water, and recovered me. When I revived, I felt that I might have lost in their good opinion by thus knowing my weakness; and I had sufficient presence of mind to ask for something to eat. This deceived them; they said to one another that I must have been on board that vessel for two days without food, and of course I did not deny it.
They brought me some meat and some grog. I ate and drank a little. They then took off my uniform, and put on me a check frock and white trousers; after which, I said I wished to lie down a little, and they left me to sleep on the chest where I had been seated.
I pretended to sleep, although I could not; and I found out by their conversation that I gained the goodwill not only of the crew, but of the captain, by my behaviour.
I considered that I had gained my life, at least for the present; but what security could I have in such company?
After an hour or two I felt quite recovered, and I thought it advisable to go on deck. I did so, and went right aft to the negro captain, and stood before him.
“Well, boy,” said he, “why do you come to me?”
“You gave me my life; you’re the greatest friend I have here, so I come to you. Can I do anything?”
“Yes; you may assist in the cabin, if your white blood does not curdle at the idea of attending on a black man.”
“Not at all. I will do anything for them who are kind to me, as you have been.”
“And think it no disgrace?”
“Not the least. Is it a disgrace to be grateful?”
The reader will observe how particularly judicious my replies were, although but fifteen years old. My dangerous position had called forth the reflection and caution of manhood.
“Go down into the cabin; you may amuse yourself till I come.”
I obeyed this order. The cabin was fitted up equal to most yachts, with Spanish mahogany and gold mouldings; a beaufet full of silver (there was no glass) occupied nearly one-half of it; even the plates and dishes were of the same material. Silver candelabras hung down from the middle of the beams; a variety of swords, pistols, and other weapons were fixed up against the bulkhead; a small bookcase, chiefly of Spanish books, occupied the after-bulkhead, and the portraits of several white females filled up the intervals; a large table in the centre, a stand full of charts, half a dozen boxes of cigars, and two most luxurious sofas, completed the furniture.
A door from the starboard side led, I presumed, to the stateroom, where the captain slept; but I did not venture to open it.
I surveyed all this magnificence, wondering who this personage could be; and more still, how it was that the whole of the crew were, as well as the captain, of the negro race.
We had heard that the pirate we were in search of was a well-known character—a Spaniard—who went by the name of Chico, and that his crew consisted of Americans, English, and Spaniards. That this was the vessel, I knew, from the conversation of the men when I was below for they called her the Stella.
Now, it appeared that the vessel had changed masters; the crew were chiefly Spanish negroes, or other negroes who spoke Spanish, but some of them spoke English, and a few words of Spanish; these, I presumed, were American or English runaways. But the captain—his language was as correct as my own; Spanish he spoke fluently, for I heard him giving orders in that language while I was in the cabin; neither was he flat-nosed, like the majority. Had he been white, his features would have been considered regular, although there was a fierceness about them at times which was terrible to look at.
“Well,” thought I, “if I live and do well, I shall know more about it; yes, if I live, I wish I was on the quarterdeck of the Calliope, even as Tommy was with his pockets stuffed full of the purser’s raisins, and looking like a fool and a rogue at the same time.”
I had been down in the cabin about half an hour, when the negro captain made his appearance.
“Well,” said he, “I suppose you would as soon see the devil as me—eh, boy?”
“No: indeed,” replied I, laughing—for I had quite recovered my confidence—“for you were about to send me to the devil, and I feel most happy that I still remain with you.”
“You’re exactly the cut of boy I like,” replied he, smiling. “How I wish that you were black!—I detest your colour.”
“I have no objection to black my face, if you wish it,” replied I: “it’s all the same to me what colour I am.”
“How old are you?”
“I was fifteen a few months back.”
“How long have you been to sea?”
“About eighteen months.”
He then asked me a great many more questions, about the captain, the officers, the ship, and myself; to all of which I answered in a guarded way.
A negro brought down his supper; it was hot, and very savoury; without any order on his part, I immediately attended upon him during his meal. He told the negro not to wait and conversed with me during the time that he was eating: at last, he told me how he had doubled the frigate during the night. I then remarked that we had been informed that the vessel was called the Stella, that the captain’s name was Chico, and the crew were composed of white men of different nations.
“A month or two ago, it was the case,” replied the captain. “Now I have done, and you may clear away,” continued he, rising from his chair and throwing himself down on one of the sofas. “Stop; you are hungry, I don’t doubt; you can sit down and eat your supper, and remove the things afterwards.”
I did as he told me: it was the first time in my life I had supped off massive plate—but I was in strange company; however, it did not spoil my appetite, and I did not forget to drink a goblet of wine by way of washing down my repast.
“Thank you, sir,” said I, rising, and then performing my office of attendant.
At his order, I rang the bell for the negro, who assisted me in clearing away, and then went out with the remains of the supper.
“Am I to stay or go?” said I, respectfully.
“You may go now. Find the man who came in just now—José he is called; tell him to give you something to sleep upon.”
“Good-night, sir,” said I.
“Good-night, boy.”
As I went forward looking for the negro servant, I was accosted more than once very kindly by the negro seamen. At last I went up on the forecastle, and they asked me to tell them how I was left on board the schooner. I did so to those who spoke English, and one of them, who could speak both languages, translated into Spanish for the benefit of the others.
“You be first white he hab spared, I tell you,” said the American negro, who had translated into Spanish what I had told them, after the other had left me with him.
“The captain says he wishes I were black,” said I to the negro; “I wish I was, too, while I am on board of this vessel—my colour makes him angry, I see that. Could not I be stained black?”
“Well, I do think it will be a very safe thing for you, if it could be; for you have not seen him sometimes in his moods; and if to-morrow morning he was chased and hard pressed by the frigate, you would stand a poor chance, suppose his eyes light upon you. I can’t tink what make him to let you off, only but cause you give him de spy-glass in dat hold way. I tink I know a chap on board who understand dat—I go see—you wait here till I come back.”
The negro left me, and in a few minutes returned, with a sort of half-Indian, half-negro-looking cut of fellow, with whom he conversed in Spanish.
“He say he know how to make brown like himself but not dark same as me. Suppose you wish he do it to-night—begin now?”
“Yes, I do wish it,” replied I; and so I did sincerely, for I felt that it might be the saving of my life; and I had a great aversion to be torn to pieces by the sharks which followed the vessel, that being anything but an agreeable mode of going out of the world.
The American black remained with me, and we conversed for about half an hour, by which time we were joined by the Spanish Main negro, who brought up with him some decoction or another, boiling hot. They stripped me and rubbed me all over with a bit of sponge, not only the face and hands, but every part of my body and then I was left standing quite naked to dry; the crew had gathered round us, and were very merry at the idea of changing my colour.
As soon as the warm air had dried me, the application was created; and when I was again dry, the American told me to put on my clothes, and that he would call me early to have two more applications of the stuff, and that then I should be quite dark enough.
I asked for José, and told him what the captain had said; he gave me a bundle of matting for a bed, and I was soon fast asleep. About three o’clock in the morning I was called up, and the staining repeated twice, and I then lay down again.
When the hands were turned up at five bells (for everything was very regular on board), José brought me a glass to look at myself, and I was quite satisfied that my colour would no longer annoy the captain. I was not as black as a negro, but I was as dark as a mulatto.
I asked the Spanish negro, through José, who could speak both languages, whether I might wash myself? He replied, all day long if I pleased; that I should not get the colour off; it would wear off in time, and the stuff must be applied once a month, and that would be sufficient.
I went to the forecastle, and washed myself; the negro crew were much amused, and said that I now was a “bel muchaco”—a handsome boy. I dare say they thought so—at all events, they appeared to be very friendly with me, and my staining myself gave them great satisfaction. I was sitting with José between decks when the cabin bell rang.
“You go,” said he, showing his white teeth as he grinned; “I go after, see what captain tink.”
I went into the cabin, and knocked at the state-room door.
“Come in,” said the captain.
I went in, and met him face to face.
“What!” said he, looking earnestly at me—“yet it must be—it is you, is it not?”
“Yes, sir,” replied I, “it is me. I’ve turned dark to please you, and I hope it does please you.”
“It does, boy, I can look at you now, and forget that you are white. I can. I feel that I can love you now—you’ve got rid of your only fault in my eyes, and I’m not sorry. I’m only glad that I did not—”
“Give me to the sharks,” said I, finishing his sentence.
“Exactly so; say no more about it.”
I immediately turned the conversation, by asking him what he required; and I attended him while dressing. From that time he became very friendly towards me, constantly conversing with me. I did my duty as his servant for more than a fortnight, during which time we became very intimate, and (I may as well confess it) I grew very fond of my new master, and thought less about the ship and my shipmates. We were going into a port, I knew, but what port I did not know.
I often had conversations with José and the American black, and gained a great deal of information from them; but I could not discover much of the history of the captain. On that point they refused to be communicative; occasionally hints were given, and then, as if recollecting themselves, they stopped speaking.
It was about three weeks before we made the land of Cuba, and as soon as we did so, the schooner was hove to till night, when sail was again made, and before ten o’clock we saw the lights of the Havannah. When about three miles off we again hove to, and about midnight we perceived under the land the white sails of a schooner, which was standing out. Sail was made, and we ran down to her, and before she was aware that we were an enemy, she was laid by the board and in the possession of our crew. The people belonging to the vessel were handed up, and she was examined. She proved to be a vessel fitted out for the slave trade, with the manacles, etcetera, on board of her, and was just sailing for the coast.
I was on the deck when the white men, belonging to the slaver, were brought on board, and never shall I forget the rage and fury of the captain.
All sail was made upon both schooners, standing right off from the land, and at daylight we had left it a long way astern.
José said to me, “You better not go to captain dis day. Keep out of his way—perhaps he recollect dat you white.”
From what I had seen the night before, I thought this good advice; and I not only did not go into the cabin, but I did not show myself on deck.
About eight o’clock in the morning I heard the boat lowered down and orders given to scuttle the vessel, as soon as she had been well searched. This was done, and the boat returned, having found several thousand dollars on board of her, which they handed upon deck.
I remained below: I heard the angry voice of the negro captain—the pleadings and beggings for mercy of the prisoners—busy preparations making on deck; and several men came down and handed up buckets of sand; an iron grating was handed up. The countenances of the negroes who were thus employed appeared inflamed, as if their wrath was excited; now and then they laughed at each other, and looked more like demons than men. That some dreadful punishment was about to be inflicted I was certain and I remained crouched behind the foremast on the lower-deck.
At last the men were all on deck again, and I was left alone; and then I heard more noise, begging for mercy, weeping and wailing, and occasionally a few words from the mouth of the negro captain; then rose shrieks and screams, and appeals to Heaven, and a strong smell, which I could not comprehend, came down the hatchways.
The shrieks grew fainter, and at last ceased, and something was thrown overboard. Then the same tragedy, whatever it was, was acted over again—more attempts to obtain mercy—more shrieks—again the same overpowering smell. What could it be? I would have given much to know, but something told me that I must remain where I was. Ten times was this repeated, and then, as evening came on, there was a bustle on deck, and after a time the crew descended the hatchways.
I caught the eye of the American, with whom I was intimate, and as he passed me, I beckoned to him. He came to me.
“What has been done?” said I in a whisper.
“Captain punish slave traders,” replied he; “always punish them so.”
“Why, what did he do to them?”
“Do?—roast ’em alive. Dis third slave vessel he take, and he always serve ’em so. Serve ’em right; captain very savage; no go to him till morrow morning—you keep close.” So saying, the American negro left me.
As I afterwards found out, the long boat on the booms had been cleared out, the sand laid at the bottom to prevent the fire from burning the boat, the captain and crew of the slave vessel laid on one after the other upon the iron grating, and burnt alive. This accounted for the horrible smell that had come down the hatchways.
It may be considered strange that I really did not feel so much horror as perhaps I ought to have done. Had this dreadful punishment been inflicted upon any other persons than slave dealers, and by any other parties than negroes, I should not have been able to look at the captain without abhorrence expressed in my countenance; but I know well the horrors of the slave trade from conversation I had had with Bob Cross; and I had imbibed such a hatred against the parties who had carried it on, that it appeared to me to be an act of retaliation almost allied to justice. Had the negro captain only warred against slave dealers, I do not think I should have cared about remaining in the vessel; but he had told me and fully proved to me, that he detested all white men, and had never spared them except in my own instance.
I must acknowledge that I felt very much like going into the lion’s den, when the next morning, on his ringing the cabin bell, I presented myself to the captain; but so far from being in an ill-humour, he was very kind to me.
After breakfast, as I was going out, he said to me, “You must have a name: I shall call you Cato—recollect that; and now I have a question to ask you—What is that which you carry round your neck on a ribbon?”
“A letter, sir,” replied I.
“A letter! and why do you carry a letter?”
“Because it is of the greatest importance to me.”
“Indeed! Now, Cato, sit down on the other sofa, and let me know your history.”
I felt that I could not do better than to make this man at once my confidant. He might take a strong interest in me, and it was not likely to go farther. I therefore told him everything connected with my birth and parentage, what my suspicions had been, and how the letter had confirmed them. I unsewed the seal-skin, and gave him the letter to read—without being aware that he could read: he took it and read it aloud.
“Yes,” said he, “that’s proof under his own hand; and now, Cato, never be afraid of me, for, however I may wreak my vengeance upon others, I swear by my colour that I never will hurt you, or permit others to do so. I am a tiger—I know it; but you have often seen a little spaniel caressed by the tiger, whose fangs are turned against every other living thing. You are quite safe.”
“I feel I am, since you say so,” replied I; “and since I am to be your pet, I shall take liberties, and ask you, in return, to tell me your history.”
“I am glad that you have asked it, as I wish you to know it. I will begin at once—
“I was born in America, in the state of Pennsylvania, of free parents. My father was a sail-maker, and was worth money; bet a free black in America is even worse treated and more despised than a slave. I had two brothers, who went to school with me.
“My father intended to bring me up for the Church. You look astonished; but in the States we have clergymen of our colour, as well as white ones; looked down upon and despised, I grant, although they do teach the Word of God; but I was very unfit for that profession, as you may suppose. I was very proud and haughty; I felt that I was as good as a white man, and I very often got into scrapes from my resenting injuries.
“However, my education went on successfully, much more so than that of my brothers, who could not learn. I could, and learnt rapidly but I learnt to hate and detest white men, and more especially Americans; I brooded over the injuries of people of colour, as we were called, and all my father’s advice and entreaty could not persuade me to keep my thoughts to myself. As I grew up to manhood, I spoke boldly, and more than once nearly lost my life for so doing; for most Americans think no more of taking the life of one like me than of a dog in the street. More than one knife has been directed to my heart, and more than once was I then up before the judge, and sentenced to imprisonment for no fault; my evidence, and the evidence of those of my colour, not being permitted to be received in a court of justice. Any white villain had only to swear falsely—and there is no want of that class in America—and there was no appeal. At last I was sentenced to be whipped; then my blood boiled, and I vowed a vengeance which I have fearfully adhered to.”
“I do not wonder at that,” said I; “I would have done the same.”
“The man who had sworn falsely against me in this last instance had come up from the South; I obtained what money I could from my father, and went away in pursuit of him. I found him—dogged him, and one evening I accosted him, and plunged my bowie-knife into his heart. I fled that State, and crossed the Mississippi.
“I had not been long in Arkansas before a man—a cotton-grower, who owned about a hundred and fifty slaves—inquired who I was, and whether I had a pass; I replied that I was a free man, born in Pennsylvania, and was there on my own affairs. The next day I was taken up, brought before the magistrate, and this scoundrel swore that I was his slave, and had absconded from him ten years before.
“My defence—the proof which I offered to bring, was not listened to. I was made over to him, and the rascal grinned as the constables brought me away with him. His plantation was at the Red River. It was difficult to escape and indeed, almost useless to attempt it: but the fact was, that I did not wish to do so; I remained to have my revenge. I tried to make the other slaves rise against him, but they were too cowed; they even informed against me, and I was tied down, and flogged by the drivers until the flesh fell from my shoulders.
“As soon as I recovered, I determined to do—or die. I heard that there were some pirate vessels in the Barataria lagoons on the other side of New Orleans; I resolved to join the crews, but first to have my revenge. I did so: I set fire to the plantation house—struck the scoundrel who had made me a slave senseless as he attempted to escape, and threw his body into the flames; I then made the door fast, and fled. I was met by one of the overseers, who was armed, and who would have stopped me: I beat his brains out with his own musket, and then gained the woods. You see that I am powerful; you hardly know how much so. After several days’ travelling, I arrived at the lagoons. I found this very vessel at anchor. I offered myself, and they accepted me immediately.
“There were several of my colour on board—runaway slaves—and all good determined men. These were the people I required, for they understood me. Even on board of a pirate vessel, the same contempt was shown towards us—still considered as inferior beings. All the heavy work all the dirty work, was for the negro race; and we often worked like slaves, while the captain and the rest of the crew caroused. I was three years on board of this vessel. Our rendezvous where we are going to now, is a small land-locked bay on the island of Cuba. No vessel in it can be seen from seaward, and there is but one narrow pass by which it communicates with the interior, and it is far from any habitation. A better retreat for a pirate vessel could not well be found. We used very often to go in to refit, and take in provisions and water; for in a cave there, we keep the provisions which we take from other vessels.
“In a desperate fight which we had with an English man-of-war brig, we lost nearly forty of our men. The captain, Chico, as he was called, was obliged to fill up with black men, until he could procure others. The consequence was, that with the ten before on board, there were fifty blacks to seventy whites. It was then that I made up my mind that I would retaliate for all that my race had suffered. I was sure of the ten with whom I had sailed so long; I sounded the others, and found them all willing.
“We sailed from the Mexican Gulf, and made for the Rendezvous Bay, in Cuba. As soon as we arrived, of course, as with all pirate vessels, the first day was dedicated to revelling and intoxication—that is, by the white portion of the crew. We negroes were employed in getting the casks ashore for water. That very night, when they all lay asleep and drunk, we put every soul of them to death, and the Stella belonged to me and my brave black who chose me for their captain, and swore by their wrongs eternal enmity to the European race.
“As you may suppose, I was short-manned; but we soon found plenty of men, and have now as fine a crew as ever trod a deck.”
