THE WATERS OF THE CHESAPEAKE
The brig, with all sails set, and favored by a strong wind, drew
rapidly in toward the point of landing. The great majority of the
prisoners remained on deck, chained together and helpless, yet
surrounded by armed guards, while the few who had already been
purchased by passengers, humbly followed their new masters ashore the
moment the gang-plank touched the soil of Virginia. There were five of
us altogether thus favored, but I was the only one owing allegiance to
Roger Fairfax. The rude landing wharf along which we lay was already
densely crowded with men, their appearance and dress largely
proclaiming them to be planters from the interior, either gathered to
inspect the consignment of prisoners, or eager to purchase at low
prices the stores hidden away in the vessel's hold. Some among the
concourse, however, were undoubtedly present to welcome friends and
relatives among the passengers. Altogether it was a bustling scene,
full of change and color, the air noisy with shouting voices, the line
of wharves filled with a number of vessels, either newly arrived, or
preparing to depart. Servants both white and colored were busily at
work, under the command of overseers, loading and unloading cargoes,
while the high bank beyond was crowded with vehicles of various kinds.
News of the arrival of the _Romping Betsy_ had evidently spread
widely, together with the rumor that she brought a number of prisoners
to be auctioned off. It was a good-natured, restless crowd, especially
anxious for any news from abroad, and eager to benefit from the sale.
The majority of the men I judged to be landowners, hearty, wholesome
looking fellows, whose lives were passed out-of-doors, dressed in
their best in honor of the occasion. The prevailing fashion was a
broad-leafed, felt hat with one side looped up to the crown by a
brilliant metal button, a velvet coat with long, voluminous skirts,
wide sleeves, metallic buttons as large as a Spanish dollar, short
breeches, and long stockings with gold or silver knee and shoe
buckles. Many wore swords, while those who did not bore about with
them enormous gold or silver-headed canes. The smoking of pipes was
common, and thoughtless profanity was to be heard on all sides as an
ordinary part of speech. It was with no small difficulty we succeeded
in forcing our way through this jostling throng until we attained to
an open space ashore.
I followed closely behind the three composing our party, Roger
Fairfax, and Sanchez, with the laughing girl between them for
protection, pressing a passage forward. Even had I not been laden with
packages my general appearance and dress would doubtless have
proclaimed my position, and aroused passing interest. I heard voices
calling attention to me, while curious eyes stared into my face.
Fairfax was evidently well known to a number present, for he was being
greeted on all sides with hearty hand-shakes, and words of welcome.
"Ah, back again, Roger; and what fortune in London?" "A fair price
for the crop?"
"Is the lad trailing behind ye one o' Monmouth's men?"
"Any news, friend, in Parliament? What is the latest on the tax?"
"And pray who is this damsel, Roger; not Hugh Fairfax's girl? Ay,
quite the woman now."
"Your men? They're over there, across the road. Of course I know; did
I not come from the dock with them?"
There were two of them, both negroes, but one, addressed by Fairfax as
Sam, was much the lighter in color, and far more intelligent of face.
A few words of instruction dispatched these back to the _Romping
Betsy_ for the luggage yet remaining on board, while our own party
continued to advance along the water front toward where Sam had
designated the Fairfax boat would be found awaiting us, fully prepared
to depart up the Chesapeake. When finally attained this vessel proved
to be a goodly sized sloop, of a type familiar to those waters,
containing a comfortable small cabin forward, a staunch, broad-beamed
craft, but with lines indicating sailing qualities, while requiring
only a small crew. Several similar vessels--doubtless owned and
operated by planters residing along the shore of the Bay--were
anchored in the basin, or fastened at the dock, but the _Adele_ had
been warped in against the bank, which at this point was high enough
to enable us easily to step aboard over the low rail. A dingy looking
white man, quite evidently from his appearance an indentured servant,
was in charge, He greeted us rather surlily, staring at me with
almost open hostility, yet responded swiftly enough to Fairfax's
orders.
"Here, Carr, stow these packages away. Yes, you better help with them,
Carlyle. The other bags will be along directly--Sam and John have gone
after them. Put these forward, under cover. Has everything been seen
to, so we can start at once?"
"Ay, ay, sorr," was the gruff response, in a strong Irish brogue.
"Lord knows we've hid toime enough, fer we've bin waitin' here fer yer
a wake, er more. It's a month since the lether came."
"We have had a slow voyage, Carr. So all I ordered is aboard?"
"She's full oop ter the hatches; bedad I hope thar ain't no more."
"Good; we ought to get as far as Travers' by dark then. Hurry along,
and stow that stuff away; here come the others now."
The three found comfortable seats along the opposite rail, and sat
there watching us hastily bring aboard the various articles which the
two negroes, assisted by a boy and a cart, had transported from the
brig. I worked along with the others, under the orders of Sam, who
seemed to be in charge, already feeling somewhat deeply the
humiliation of my position, but nevertheless realizing the necessity
of prompt obedience. The knowledge that I was now a slave, on a level
with these others, compelled to perform menial labor under the very
eyes of Dorothy Fairfax and that sneering Spaniard, cut my pride to
the quick. In my trips back and forth I kept my eyes averted, never
once venturing to glance toward them, until this work had been
accomplished. But when we stood idle, while Sam went aft for
instructions, I had recovered sufficient nerve to turn my eyes in that
direction, only to observe that the young woman sat with head turned
away, gazing out over the rail at the shore, her chin cupped in her
hands, her thoughts apparently far away. Strange as it may seem her
obvious indifference hurt me oddly, my only comprehension being that
she did not in the least care; that in fact she had already entirely
dismissed me from her mind. This supposition, whether true or false,
instantly hardened me to my fate, and I stared at Sanchez, meeting his
eyes fairly, at once angered by the sneer on his lips and the open
insult of his manner. He turned toward her, fingering a cheroot, and
said something; but, though she answered, her head remained
motionless, her eyes searching the shore indifferently. A figure or
two appeared along the summit of the bank, voices calling to Fairfax,
who stood up as he replied, ending the conversation with a wave of the
hand to Sam, who had taken position at the wheel. The latter began
shouting orders in a shrill voice. Carr cast off, and, with the negro
and myself at the halliards, the mainsail rose to the caps, while we
began gliding out from the shore into the deeper water. By the time we
had hoisted the jib, and made all secure, we were out far enough to
feel the full force of the stiff breeze, the _Adele_ careening until
her rail was awash, the white canvas soaring above us against the
misty blue of the sky.
There was little to be done after the ropes had been coiled away, and
we were fairly out into the broader reaches of the Bay. The wind held
steady, requiring no shifting of canvas, so Sam, having dispatched the
negro below to prepare lunch, and stationed Carr forward as lookout,
called me aft to the wheel. He was a rather pleasant-faced fellow,
yellow as saffron, with rings in his ears, and a wide mouth
perpetually grinning.
"Massa Fairfax he say you real sailorman," he began, looking me over
carefully, with a nod of his head toward the group at the rail. "Dat
so?"
"Yes; I have been a number of years at sea."
"Dat what he say; dat he done bought yer fer dat reason mostly. Ah
reckon den ye kin steer dis boat?"
"I certainly can."
"So? Den Ah's sure goin' fer ter let yer try right now. Yer take hol',
while Ah stand by a bit."
I took his place, grasping the spokes firmly, and he stood aside,
watching every movement closely, as I held the speeding sloop steadily
up to the wind, the spray pouring in over the dipping rail forward.
The grin on his lips broadened.
"What is the course?" I asked curiously.
"'Cross ter dat point yonder--see, whar de lone tree stan's; we done
'round dat 'bout tree hunder' yards out, an' then go straight 'way
north."
"You use no chart?"
He burst into a guffaw, as though the question was a rare joke.
"No, sah; I nebber done saw one."
"But surely you must steer by compass?"
"Dar is a little one somewhar on board, and Ah done ain't seed it fer
mor 'n a yare, Ah reckon. 'Tain't no use enyhow. Whut we steer by is
landmarks. Ah sure does know de Chesapeake. Yer ever bin up de Bay?"
"Yes, twice, but out in the deep water. I suppose you hug along the
west shore. How is the sloop--pretty heavily loaded?"
He nodded, still grinning cheerfully over the ease with which I
manipulated the wheel.
"Chuck full ter de water line; we've done been shovin' things inter
dat hold fer a week past, but she's sure a good sailor. Whut wus it
Massa Roger say yer name wus?"
"Carlyle."
"So he did; don't ever recollect hearin' dat name afore. Ye's one of
dem rebels ober in England?"
"I got mixed up in the affair."
"An' whut dey done give yer?"
"My sentence, you mean--twenty years."
"Lordy! dat's sure tough. Well, I reckon yer done know yer job all
right, so I'll just leave yer here awhile, an' go forrard an' git a
snack. Ain't eat nuthin' fer quite a spell. Ah'll be back afore yer
'round de point yonder."
I was alone at the wheel, the sloop in my control, and somehow as I
stood there, grasping those spokes, the swift boat leaping forward
through the water, leaning recklessly over before the force of the
wind, the numbing sense of helpless servitude left me in a new return
of manhood and responsibility. It was a scene of exhilaration, the
sun, still partially obscured by misty clouds already well down in the
western sky, with the tossing waves of the Bay foam-crested. The
distant headlands appeared spectral and gray through the vapor, while
the waters beyond took on the tint of purple shadows. The _Adele_
responded to the helm gallantly, the spreading canvas above standing
out like a board, a broad wake of white foam spreading far astern. Not
another sail appeared across that troubled surface of waters, not even
a fisherman's boat, the only other vessel visible along our course
being a dim outline close in against that far-away headland toward
which I had been instructed to steer. I stared at this indistinct
object, at first believing it a wreck, but finally distinguishing the
bare masts of a medium-sized bark, evidently riding at anchor only a
few hundred yards off shore.
Satisfied as to this, my glance shifted to our own decks, feeling a
seaman's admiration for the cleanliness of the little vessel, and the
shipshape condition of everything aboard. The decks had more the
appearance of a pleasure yacht, than that of a cargo carrier, although
the broad beam, and commodious hatches bespoke ample storage room
below. Apparently all this hold space had been reserved for the
transportation of goods, the passenger quarters being forward, with
the cook's galley at the foot of the mast. Where the crew slept I was
unable to discern, but they were few in number, and as Sam had
disappeared up a short ladder, and then across the roof of the cabin,
it was highly probable there would be a compact forecastle nestled
between the bows. The blacker negro was busily engaged in the galley,
his figure occasionally visible at the open door, and a column of
black smoke poured out through the tin funnel. The deck planks were
scrubbed white, and the hand-rails had been polished until they
shone.
The three passengers still remained seated together, the men
conversing, and occasionally pointing forth at some object across the
water, but, while I watched the little group, the girl made no
movement, nor attempt at speech. None of them even so much as glanced
toward me, and I felt that, already, I had been dismissed from their
thought, had been relegated to my proper position, had sunken to my
future place as a mere servant. Finally Mistress Dorothy arose to her
feet, and, with a brief word of explanation to her uncle, started
forward in the direction of the cabin. A sudden leap of the boat
caused her to clutch the rail, and instantly Sanchez was at her side,
proffering assistance. They crossed the dancing deck together, his
hand upon her arm, and paused for a moment at the door to exchange a
few sentences. When the Spaniard came back he pointed out to Fairfax
the position of the still distant bark, which however was by this time
plainly revealed off our port quarter. The planter stood up in order
to see better, and then the two crossed the deck to a position only a
few yards from where I stood at the wheel, and remained there, staring
out across the intervening water.
"Surely a strange place in which to anchor, Lieutenant," said Fairfax
at last, breaking the silence, his hand shading his eyes. "Bark
rigged, and very heavily sparred. Seems to be all right. What do you
make of the vessel?"
The Spaniard twisted his moustache, but exhibited little interest,
although his gaze was upon the craft.
"Decidedly Dutch I should say," he answered slowly, "to judge from
the shape of her lines, and the size of her spars. The beggars seem
quite at home there, with all their washing out. Not a usual
anchorage?"
"No, nor a particularly safe one. There are some very heavy seas off
that point at times, and there is no plantation near by. Travers'
place is beyond the bend. We'll put up with him tonight; he owns that
land yonder, but his wharf is several miles up the coast. Damn me,
Sanchez, I believe I 'll hail the fellow, and find out what he is
doing in there."
Sanchez nodded, carelessly striking flint and steel in an effort to
relight a cheroot, and Fairfax turned his head toward me.
"Oh, is that you, Carlyle? Where is Sam?"
"Gone forward, sir, half an hour ago. He decided I was safe."
The planter laughed, with a side glance toward Sanchez, who gave no
sign that he overhead.
"No doubt he was right. Port your helm a little, and run down as close
as seems safe to that fellow out yonder, until I hail him."
"Very well, sir."
We came about slowly, tossed a bit by the heavy swell, the ponderous
boom swinging, and permitting the loosened canvas to flap against the
ropes, until the sloop finally steadied onto the new tack. The
distance to be covered was not great, and in less than ten minutes, we
were drawing in toward the high stern of the anchored vessel. She was
larger than I had thought, a lumping craft for those days, bark
rigged, with lower spars the heaviest I had ever seen. No evidence of
life appeared on board, although everything looked shipshape alow and
aloft, and a rather extensive wash flapped in the wind forward,
bespeaking a generous crew. There was no flag at the mizzen to signify
nationality, yet there was a peculiar touch to the rig which confirmed
in my mind the truth of Sanchez's guess that she was originally Dutch.
A moment later this supposition was confirmed as my eyes made out the
name painted across the stern--NAMUR OF ROTTERDAM.
Fairfax leaned far out across the rail, as we swept in closer, his
eyes searching the stranger's side for some evidence of human presence
aboard, but the Spaniard exhibited no particular interest in the
proceedings, standing motionless, the smoke of the cheroot blown idly
from his mouth, The fellow's face was turned from me, yet I could not
help note the insolence of his attitude, in spite of my occupation at
the wheel. A hundred feet distant, I held the dancing sloop to mere
steerage-way, while Fairfax hailed in a voice which went roaring
across the water like a gun.
"Ahoy, the bark!"
A red-faced man with a black beard thrust his head up above the after
rail, and answered, using English, yet with a faint accent which was
not Dutch. What he looked like below the shoulders could not be
discerned.
"Veil, vat's vanted? Vos anyding wrong?"
"No, not aboard here," returned Fairfax, a bit puzzled at the reply,
"We ran down to see if you were in any trouble. This is a strange
place to anchor. What are you--Dutch?"
The fellow waved his hands in a gesture indicating disgust. "Dat's
eet. Ve're out ov Rotterdam--you see ze name ov ze sheep. But ve not
sail frum thar dis time--no. Ve cum here from ze Barbadoes," he
explained brokenly "wiz cane-sugar, an' hides. Ve vait here for our
agent."
"But why anchor in a place like this? Why not go on up to the wharfs?"
"Vye not? For ziz--I no trust my crew ashore. Zay Vest Indy niggers,
an' vud run avay ven ze chance cum. I know vat zay do."
In spite of my efforts the two vessels were drifting rapidly apart,
and this last explanation came to us over the water in a faint thread
of sound barely discernible. I asked if I should tack back, but
Fairfax shook his head, and in a moment more we were beyond reach of
the voice. Dorothy appeared at the door of the cabin and stood there,
gazing in surprise at the bark, while the moment he caught sight of
her Sanchez went hastily forward, removing his hat with so peculiar a
flourish as he approached as to cause me to notice the gesture.
Fairfax remained beside the rail, staring out across the widening
water, clearly dissatisfied, but finally waved his hand in a command
to me to resume our course. Shortly after he crossed the deck to the
wheel, and stood there beside me, still watchful of the dwindling
vessel already far astern.
"What do you make of her, Carlyle?" he asked finally, turning slightly
to glance at my face. "I believe that fellow lied."
"So do I, sir," I answered promptly. "Whatever else he may be, he's
no peaceful Dutch trader. The bark is Dutch built all right, and no
doubt once sailed out of Rotterdam; but that fellow got his accent
from South Europe."
"Damn me, that's just what I thought."
"Nor is that all, sir. If he was loaded with cane-sugar and hides for
market, he wouldn't be nearly so high out of water. That bark was in
ballast, or I miss my guess. Besides, if he was a trader, where was
his crew? There wasn't a single head popped over the rail while we
were alongside; and that isn't natural. Even a West India nigger has
curiosity. I tell you the men on board that hooker had orders to keep
down."
Fairfax stroked his chin, his eyes shifting from the distant vessel to
Dorothy and Sanchez who were now making their way slowly aft, the
latter grasping the girl's arm, and smirking as he talked rapidly.
"By God! but I believe you are right," he admitted frankly, "although
it had not occurred to me before. There is something wrong there. I'll
tell Travers, and have him send a runner overland to give warning
below."