Фредерик Марриет
Percival Keene
Chapter Twenty Six
The prizes proved to be the Diligente brig, of fourteen guns, and two hundred and ten men, and Caroline schooner, of eight guns, and one hundred and twenty men—they had done a great deal of mischief, and their capture was of importance. The captain of the Naiad’s orders were to return to Curaçao, and we all made sail before sunset. Our loss had been severe: commanding officer, boatswain, carpenter, and twelve men wounded—one midshipman and two men killed.
The next morning our signal was made to pass within hail, and the captain of the Naiad inquired how I was. The surgeon’s assistant replied that I and all the wounded were doing well, and there was no more communication till we arrived at Curaçao on the fourth day, by which time I was rapidly recovering.
Mr Fraser, as soon as he heard of my being hurt, immediately came on board and insisted upon my being taken on shore to his house, and I gladly consented. The next day I had a visit from Captain C, the commanding officer, and the captain of the Naiad. Captain C asked me if I was well enough to write the account of the action. I replied that I was, and that I would send it the next day. He and the captain of the Naiad both paid me many compliments for having fought a superior force for so long a time, and Captain C said that as soon as I was well enough he would send me up to Jamaica, as bearer of my own despatches to the admiral.
I requested, as a particular favour of Mr Fraser, that he would allow Bob Cross to be sent ashore to his house, and Mr Fraser immediately consented. My friend Bob was therefore brought up that evening, and was soon established in very comfortable quarters.
We had been a fortnight at the island, during which my wound was healing rapidly, and I was able to hop about with a crutch. Cross also was out of bed, and able to sit up for an hour or two on the verandah, in the cool of which I spent the best part of the day, with my wounded limb resting upon a sofa. From the veranda we had a view of the harbour, and one morning I perceived that there were two additional vessels which had anchored during the night; they proved to be the Driver and the brigantine privateer, which she had captured after a chase and running fight of forty-eight hours. I was glad of this, as I knew what pleasure it would give to the admiral.
I now again indulged in my dreams of Minnie, who had been forgotten as soon as I had left the harbour and been engaged in active service. Stretched upon a sofa, with my wounded leg, I had nothing else to do, or rather nothing else which was so agreeable to me. I wrote to her again, and also to my mother; neither did I forget that Lord de Versely had requested at parting that I should write to him. I did so in a very respectful manner, detailing what had occurred.
When we had been three weeks at Curaçao, all our wounded, as well as myself, had so far recovered, that there was no reason for the Firefly not proceeding to Jamaica. The commanding officer lent an assistant-surgeon to the schooner. I received my despatches, took a grateful leave of Mr Fraser, and the Firefly was once more skimming over the water. In three weeks we arrived at Port Royal, and I took up my despatches.
“Happy to see you, Keene,” said the admiral. “Hollo! what makes you limp in that way? Have you hurt your leg?”
“Yes, sir,” replied I; “I’m not quite well yet, but the despatches of Captain C will explain all.”
As no vessel had sailed from Curaçao, the admiral had no idea of what had happened.
“Well, then,” said he, “sit down on that sofa, Mr Keene, while I read the despatches.”
I watched the admiral’s countenance, and was delighted to witness the evident signs of satisfaction which he expressed as he read on.
“Excellent!” said he, as he closed them. “Keene, you have done me a great favour. The remonstrances of the merchants, the badgering I have received from the Admiralty by every packet, relative to the depredations on our commerce by these vessels, have been enough to make a saint swear. Now they are happily disposed of, and I have chiefly to thank you for it. Captain C informs me that the brig is well adapted for his Majesty’s service, but that the schooner is an old vessel.” The admiral then left the room. In a few minutes he returned with a paper in his hand, which he laid upon the table, and, taking up a pen, he signed it and presented it to me, saying—“Captain Keene, I trust you will give me the pleasure of your company to dinner; and, as you are still very lame, I think you had better make a signal for your servant and traps, and take up your quarters at the Penn till you are quite recovered.”
Perceiving that I was too much agitated to reply, he continued, “I must leave you now;” then extending his hand, he said, “Allow me to be the first to wish you joy on your promotion, which you have so well deserved.” He then went out of the room. It really was so unexpected—so little dreamt of, this sudden promotion, that I was confused. I had hoped that, by a continuance of good conduct, I might in a year or two obtain it; but that I should receive it after only one cruise in the schooner was beyond all my imagination. I felt grateful, and as soon as I was more composed, I returned thanks to Heaven, and vowed eternal gratitude to the admiral. I felt that I was a step nearer to Lord de Versely, and I thought of the pleasure it would give my mother and Minnie. I had been alone about half an hour, when the admiral returned.
“I have just sent for an old messmate of yours, Captain Keene, who was severely wounded in your action with the Dutch frigate; he has now passed, and Lord de Versely recommended him to me as a deserving young officer—a Mr Dott.”
“Oh, yes, admiral; he was my first acquaintance when I went to sea. He has been to sea longer than I have, but he lost a good deal of his time.”
“Well I am going to give him an acting order for your brig. I hope he is a good, smart officer.”
“Yes, admiral, he is a very good officer indeed,” replied I, laughing. “Will you oblige me by not telling him that I am to be his captain, till after we have met?”
“Ah, some mischief, I suppose; but if we make captains of such boys as you we must expect that. Are your wounded men all going on well?”
“All, sir,—even Bob Cross, the boatswain, whose head was half knocked off, is quite well again. He was Lord de Versely’s coxswain, sir, and you were kind enough to give him his warrant.”
“I recollect—a good man, is he not?”
“So good, sir, that the only regret I have in leaving the schooner is, that I cannot take him with me. He is my right-hand man and I owe much to him, and it will be a sore blow to him as well as to me.”
“I see, you want him made boatswain of your brig—that’s it.”
“I assure you, admiral, I should be most grateful if you would have that kindness.”
“I am always ready to promote a good man; your recommending him, and his severe wound, are sufficient. He shall be your boatswain, Keene.”
“You are very kind, sir,” replied I. “I hope I shall do justice to your patronage.”
“I’ve no fear of that, Keene, and I know that a man, to work well, should, as far as he can, choose his own tools. Mr Dott is waiting now, and as soon as he has his acting order, I will send him in to you.”
About ten minutes afterwards Mr Tommy Dott made his appearance; he extended his hand to me, saying, in a haw-haw way, “Keene, my dear fellow, I’m glad to see you.” He certainly did look two or three inches taller, for he walked almost on tiptoe.
“Glad to see you, Tommy,” said I; “well, what’s the news?”
“Nothing, I believe, except what you have brought. I hear you had a bit of a brush, and got winged.”
“Even so, Tommy,” replied I, pointing to my wounded leg. “The admiral has kindly asked me to stay here until I’m better.”
“I dine with him to-day,” replied Tommy; “but as for staying here, I should think that rather a bore. By the bye, Keene, what sort of a craft is that Diligente brig which the Naiad and you took?”
“A very fine craft, Tommy: sails as well as the Firefly.”
“Oh, you, of course, swear by your own vessel; and there’s nothing like the schooner—that’s natural enough; now, I must say, I prefer something a little larger, and, therefore, I’m not sorry that I have my commission for the new brig.”
“Indeed! Tommy; I wish you joy,” replied I.
“Thank ye, Keene,” replied Tommy, very dignified. “I wonder,” said he, “what sort of a skipper we shall have. There’s the first lieutenant of the Naiad has a good chance. I saw him: a very sharp sort of gentleman, and carries his head remarkably high; but that won’t do for me. I’ll not allow any captain to play tricks in a ship that I’m aboard of. I know the rules and regulations of the service as well as any one, and that the captain shall see, if he attempts to go beyond his tether.”
“Now, Tommy,” replied I, “you know, that although you talk so big, if you had been appointed a lieutenant into a ship commanded by Lord de Versely, you would have been as much afraid of him as a lieutenant as you used to be as a midshipman.”
“Lord de Versely,” replied Tommy, who felt the truth of what I said: “he’s a peculiar sort of man.”
“Take my word for it, Tommy, you’ll find all captains peculiar to one point; which is, that they expect respectful behaviour, and not cavilling, from their officers; and our service is so peculiar, that it is absolutely necessary that the officers should set this example to the men.”
“Yes; that may be very well; but who knows but the captain of the brig may be some young fellow, who has seen no more service than myself—perhaps, not been to sea so long?”
“That is no reason that you should not obey his orders; indeed, if not experienced, you ought to do all you can to support him.”
“Well, if he was to ask my advice, indeed—”
“But he may not require your advice, Tommy, he may prefer deciding for himself. Now, the first lieutenant of the Naiad is a great Tartar, and I’m certain, if he is your captain, that, on the first word, he would have you under an arrest. There’s an old saying, Tommy, ‘It’s folly to kick against tenpenny nails;’ and that every officer does who kicks against his superior. I can assure you, Tommy, that if ever I am a captain, my officers shall obey me implicitly. I will have no cavilling at my orders. I will always treat them as gentlemen, and support their authority, as they ought to support mine; but captain of my own ship I would be, and I suspect that it would go hard with any officer who ventured to dispute my rights.”
“Well, I dare say you will be a martinet, or rather that you are one now, as you command a schooner. However, as I never intend to sail with you, that’s nothing to me. I’m sure, from what has passed, that you and I should have a row before we were a week on board; for I’m not to be played with.”
“Well, Tommy, I’m very glad we have had this explanation; for now we both know what to expect. I am resolved to be captain, you to resist my authority.”
“No, no, I don’t say that—I only say that I won’t be played with—I won’t be trifled with.”
“Tommy, I will neither play nor trifle with you; nor will you ever play or trifle with me. We have done that as midshipmen; in our new relative situations it is not to be thought of for a moment. Read this.” I handed him my appointment as commander of the Diligente: Tommy cast his eyes over it, and at once saw that his promotion did not prevent his getting into scrapes, as usual.
“You a commander! you captain of the Diligente! Why, I came to sea before you.”
“I know you did, Tommy; but, although you have been in the service longer, you have not seen quite so much service as I have. At all events, I’m now your captain. I flatter myself I shall make a very tolerable one; and what is more, I have an idea that you will make a very good lieutenant, as soon as the vanity, with which you have been puffed up since your receiving your promotion, will have settled down a little, and that you will find it much pleasanter to be on good terms with your captain than to be eternally in hot water, especially with one who, you know, is not a person to be played with.”
Tommy looked very confused; he said nothing, but kept his eyes on my commission, which he still held in his hand. I had no idea that Tommy Dott’s being ignorant of my being captain of the brig would have occasioned such a conversation as this. I only wished to amuse myself with him, and surprise him at the last. Tommy perceived that he had made a mess of it, and he stammered out some explanation as he returned me the commission; and I replied: “The fact is, Dott, you were merely cutting a caper upon your new promotion; you never meant what you said; it was all talk. You always have been very obedient to proper authority since I have known you, and I am sure that you always will; so let’s say no more about it. I wish you joy upon your promotion, and, what’s more, I’m very glad that we are to sail together.” Saying this, I held out my hand, which Tommy took very readily, and we then began to talk on other subjects.
Chapter Twenty Seven
I had written to Cross, informing him of my promotion, and his being appointed to the Diligente.
I had been a fortnight with the admiral when the Naiad arrived with the prizes in company, and, my wound being now cured, I took leave of the admiral, and went down, that I might superintend the fitting out of my new vessel. As there were supernumerary men expected out of England, the admiral, at my suggestion, allowed me to turn over the crew of the Firefly to form the nucleus of my ship’s company, and made up my complement from his own ship.
In two months I was ready for sea, and most anxious to be off. The admiral perceived my impatience, but, as there was no other vessel in the harbour, he would not let me go until another arrived, to be at his disposal in case of emergency. The weariness of so long remaining in harbour was, however, a little relieved by a circumstance which took place, and which probably will make my readers imagine that my propensity for playing tricks was not quite eradicated.
I lodged at a sort of hotel, kept by a mulatto woman of the name of Crissobella, as the negroes termed her, originally Christobela. She was of Spanish blood by the father’s side, and had come down from the Havannah. She was very portly; very proud and dignified in her carriage, and demanded as much attention from her lodgers as a lady would who had received us as her guests, so that, to gain and retain admittance into her hostelry, it was necessary not only to pay a large bill, but compliments to an equal amount. She was very rich, possessed numerous slaves, and was perfectly independent of keeping an hotel. I believed she preferred to have something for her slaves and herself to do, and moreover, probably, she felt that if she retired she should be thought a person of no consequence, whereas in her present position she received a great deal of attention. One thing was certain, that if those who lodged and boarded with her were very polite, and, on their return from any other place, brought her small presents, she was very indifferent as to their paying their bill; nay, to those who were her favourites, her purse was open, and a handful of doubloons was freely tendered, if required.
The living was the same as at a boarding-house. Breakfast was ready in the large hall by nine o’clock, and remained there until every one had come down at their own hour. Dinner was always ready at five o’clock, and then Crissobella presided at the table. She admitted civilians, army officers, and navy, down to midshipmen; but warrant officers and captains of merchant vessels were considered too low. On the whole, it was a very pleasant establishment, as the private rooms were well furnished, the slaves numerous, and the attendance very good. Considering the price of most eatables on that island, it could not be considered as very dear, although the wines, etcetera, made up a formidable bill at the end of the month.
This kind of exclusiveness on the part of Signora Crissobella made the hotel quite the fashion, and certainly it was by far the best in the town. The inmates of it at this time were besides me Lieut. Thomas Dott and Lieut. William Maxwell, both appointed to the Diligente; three or four young civilians, on mercantile speculations from New York; three midshipmen, who had been left behind on account of fever, and who were promising fair, by the life they were now leading, to be very soon sent to the hospital again; and one or two planters from the other islands. The latter and I were very well behaved, but the civilians were noisy, drinking and smoking from morning till night. The midshipmen were equally troublesome; and as for the new-made lieutenants, they were so authoritative and so disagreeable, and gave themselves such consequential airs, that Mammy Crissobella, as the slaves called her, was quite indignant—she had never had such a disorderly set in her house.
She complained to me, and I spoke to them, but that was of little use. I had no power over the young merchants, and the three midshipmen did not belong to my ship. As for my lieutenants, I could not say much at their giving themselves airs at an hotel where they paid for what they had. It was not an offence that a captain could remonstrate upon. I therefore merely said, that Mammy Crissobella could not have them in her house if they did not leave off their treatment of the slaves, and if they continued to give her so much trouble and annoyance. At last our hostess would stand their behaviour no longer, and ordered them all to leave the hotel, sending in their bills; but they all were unanimous in declaring that they would not go, and it was not very easy to use force on such occasions. I tried all I could to make matters right, but my efforts were of little avail. At last Mammy Crissobella became quite furious. She did not make any alteration in the meals, as that would be punishing all of us; but she refused wine and spirits; this they did not care for, as they sent for it elsewhere by their own servants, and there was nothing but noise and confusion all day along. Mammy often came to appeal to me, and wished to go to the governor, but I persuaded her not to do so; and the mutiny continued, and every day there was nothing but altercation at the meals.
“So help me God, gemmen, you no gemmen. You make wish me dead, dat you do. I tak obeah water some day. I not live like this,” said Mammy Crissobella. “I take pepper-pot—I kill myself.”
“Pray don’t do that,” replied Tommy Dott; “we shall be put to the expense of mourning.”
“And I shall weep my eyes out,” continued one of the mercantile gentlemen.
“Weep your eyes out—is that all? I shall blow my brains out,” said another.
“And I will lie down on your grave and die,” said the third.
“Dat all very well, gemmen; you say dat and laugh—but I no slave. ’Pose I not get you out my house, I ab vengeance, now I tell you, so look to that. Yes,” continued Mammy Crissobella, striking the table with her fist, “I ab revenge.”
“I have been thinking,” said one of the mids, “what I shall do if Mammy Crissobella takes pepper-pot; I shall marry Leila, and keep the hotel. Mammy, you’ll leave me the plate and furniture.”
Leila was the head female slave—a very well-featured young mulatto girl, and a great favourite, as she was always laughing, always in good humour, and very kind and attentive. At this remark Leila laughed, and Mammy Crissobella, who observed her showing her white teeth, “You laugh, you huzzy: what you laugh for, Leila? Get away—get out of room. I give you nice flogging, by-by. You dare laugh—you take side against me, you nigger.”
I must here observe that Mammy Crissobella had been closeted with me for some time previous to this scene, and that Leila and the two planters were in the secret; this was, of course, unknown, and the hostess’s anger appeared now to be extended towards me and the two planters, with whom she had been on good terms.
Shortly afterwards Mammy rose and left the room, and then I spoke to the party, and told them that they were driving the poor woman to extremities. The planters agreed with me, and we argued the case with them, but the majority were, of course, against us, and the young merchants appeared to be very much inclined to be personal with me. At last I replied, “Very well, gentlemen—as you please; but as I happen to be well known both to the admiral and governor I give you fair warning that, if this continues much longer, I will report the affair. I should be very sorry to do so; but the house is now very uncomfortable, and you have no right to remain when the landlady insists upon your going.”
At this reply of mine the naval portion of the guests were silent, but the civilians more insolent than before. I did not wish to come to open war, so I said nothing more, and left the table. After I was gone, the refractory parties made more noise than ever. Just before the dinner hour on the following day, Mammy Crissobella sent a circular round to the young men, stating that she could not receive them at dinner. They all laughed, and went down to table as before. The dinner was better than usual, and they complimented Mammy upon it. Mammy, who had taken her seat with a scowl on her brow, and had not spoken a word, merely bowed her head in reply to their observations.
Dinner was over, and then Mammy desired Leila to bring her a goblet which was on the sideboard, and a small white jug which was in the buffet. She appeared much distressed, and hesitated a good deal, putting the goblet to her lips, and then putting it down on the table without tasting it. This conduct induced us all to look seriously at her. At last she took it up, sighed deeply, and drank the whole off at a draught. For a few seconds she held her hand over her forehead, with her elbows resting on the table. At last she looked up and said, “Gemmen, I got a little speech to make—I very sorry dat I not drink your health; but it no use—dat why you see me drink; I tell plenty time you make me mad—you make me drink obeah water—make me kill myself. Now I ab done it—I drink pison water just now. In two hour I dead woman.”
At this communication, the truth of which appeared confirmed by the woman’s behaviour, all the company started from their chairs.
“Gemmen, I dare say you all very sorry; you be more sorry by-and-by. Captain, I beg your pardon; Mr W—, Mr G (the two planters), I beg your pardon; I not mean hurt you, but could not help it. Now I tell all company, all drink the pison water—because I not like die on the jibbit, I drink de pison water—Gemmen your dinner all pison, and you all pisoned. Yes, all pisoned,” cried Mammy Crissobella at the highest pitch of her voice, and rushing out of the room.
At this announcement, I started from my chair and clasped my hands, as if in agony. I looked round me—never did I witness such a variety of horror as was expressed in the different faces at the hotel. The old planter; Mr D, who sat next to me, and who was in the secret as well as Mr G, laid his head on the table with a groan. “The Lord have mercy on my sins,” exclaimed Mr G; Mr Lieutenant Maxwell looked me in the face, and then burst into tears; Mr Lieutenant Dott put his fingers down his throat, and with three or four more getting rid of their dinner as fast as they could.
At last I sprang up to ring the bell; no one answered. I rang again more furiously. At last a slave appeared.
“Where’s my servant?”
“Not here, sar.”
“Where’s all the people of the house?”
“All with missy, sar; Mammy Crissobella die.”
“Run down then to the beach, and desire the surgeon of the brig to come up immediately.”
“Yes, sar,” replied the negro, leaving the room.
“Oh, I feel it now—here,” exclaimed I, putting my hand to my chest; “I’m suffocating.”
“And so do I,” replied one of the midshipmen, weeping.
The girl Leila now entered the room in tears. “Mammy dead,” said she. “Oh Captain Keene, I very sorry for you: you come with me, I give you something. I know how stop pison.”
“Do you, Leila? then give it me; quick, quick.”
“Yes, yes; give it us quick.”
“I not stuff enough but I make more when I gib what I ab to Captain Keene. You all stay still, not move; pose you move about, make pison work. I come back soon as I can.”
Leila then took my arm and led me tottering out of the room, when I went to Mammy Crissobella, and laughed till I cried; but the punishment was not over. After remaining about ten minutes looking at each other, but neither speaking nor moving, in pursuance of Leila’s direction, with the utmost despair in their countenances, they were gladdened by the return of Leila with a large jug, out of which she administered a glass of some compound or another to each of them. I watched at the door, and the eagerness with which they jostled and pushed each other to obtain the dose before the rest was very amusing, and never did they swallow any liquor with so much avidity, little imagining that, instead of taking what was to cure them, they were now taking what was to make them very sick; but so it was; and in a few minutes afterwards the scene of groaning, crying, screaming, writhing with pain, was quite awful.
After a time, the slaves came in and carried them all to their respective beds, leaving them to their own reflections, and the violent effects of the drugs administered, which left them no repose for that night, and in a state of utter exhaustion on the following morning.
At daylight I went into Mr Dott’s room with the surgeon, to whom I had confided the secret. Tommy was a miserable object.
“Thank heaven! here is one still alive,” said the surgeon to me.
“Oh! Captain Keene,” said Tommy, “I’m glad to see that you are so well; but you had the remedy given you long before we had.”
“Yes,” replied I, “it was given me in good time; but I hope it was not too late with you.”
“I feel very bad,” replied Tommy. “Doctor, do you think I shall live?”
The doctor felt his pulse, and looked very grave; at last he said, “If you get over the next twelve hours, I think you may.”
“How many are dead?” inquired Tommy.
“I don’t know; you are the first that I have visited; it’s a shocking business.”
“I’ve been thinking that we were very wrong,” said Tommy; “we ought not to have driven the poor woman to desperation. If I do recover, her death will be on my conscience.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Tommy,” replied I; “but the doctor says you must remain very quiet, and therefore I shall leave you. Good-bye; I will see you again this evening.”
“Good-bye, sir, and I hope you’ll forgive me for not having been so respectful as I should have been.”
“Yes, yes, Tommy; we have been friends too long for that.”
Mammy Crissobella’s dose had certainly put an end to all Tommy’s spirit of resistance. All the others who had been victims to our plot were kept in the dark as to the real facts, and, as soon as they were able to be moved, paid their bills to Leila, and left the house.
