And oh! the little warlike world within!
The well-reeved guns, the netted canopy;
The hoarse command, the busy humming din-
When, at a word, the tops are mann’d on high,
Hark to the boatswain’s call, the cheering cry;
While through the seaman’s hands the tackle glides:
Or schoolboy midshipman that, standing by,
Strains his shrill pipe, as good or ill betides,
And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides.--Byron.
As they advanced, the graceful form of the ship became more and more
clearly defined, and although the vocation of the count did not lead him
to admire beauty under such a form, yet he could not avoid being struck
by the graceful model of her construction, the loftiness and strength of
her masts, and the elegance of her rigging, which appeared, as it stood
out against the richly tinted sky, reddened by the setting sun, to be
composed of flexible and silky fibres, spun by some gigantic spider.
There was not, however, any appearance of movement on board the ship,
which seemed, either from inattention or contempt, to care but little
for the visit she was about to receive. The young mousquetaire thought,
however, at one moment, that he perceived the end of a telescope peeping
out of one of the port-holes, near the muzzle of a gun, and which was
pointed towards the boat; but the ship being gently moved round by
the quiet heaving of the waves, presented her prow toward them, his
attention was attracted by the figure-head which generally bears
some allusion to the name of the vessel that it decorates: it was
a representation of one of the daughters of America, discovered by
Columbus, and conquered by Cortez, with a head-dress of many colored
feathers, her bosom naked, and ornamented with a coral necklace. As to
the remainder of the figure, it was a curious combination, half syren,
half serpent, attached to the fore part of the ship in a graceful though
fantastic form. The nearer the boat approached the ship, the more did
the attention of the count appear attracted by this figure. It was, in
fact, a sculpture, not only singular as to form, but very remarkable
from the finish of its execution; and it was easy to perceive, that
it was not the work of vulgar hands, but had been carved by a superior
artist. The lieutenant remarked, with the satisfaction of a seaman, the
increasing admiration which appeared in the countenance of the soldier;
and at last perceiving that his attention was concentrated in the
figure-head we have described, he seemed to wait with impatience that
the latter should express his opinion upon it; but finding that he did
not give any, although they were near enough not to lose any of its
beauties, he took upon himself to be the first to speak, and to question
his young companion.
“Well, count,” said he, concealing the interest which he took in
his reply under an apparent gaiety, “what do you think of this
master-piece?”
“I think,” replied Emanuel, “that comparing it with works of the same
description, which I have seen, it merits the appellation which you have
given it.”
“Yes,” said the lieutenant, carelessly, “it is the last work of William
Coustou, who died before he had completed it: it was finished by one of
his pupils, named Duprè, a man of genius, who is starving, and who is
obliged to carve wood for want of marble, and to cut figure-heads of
ships, when he ought to be employed in sculpturing statues. See,” said
he, giving an impulsion to the rudder which laid then across her bows,
“it is a real necklace of coral that she wears, and they are real pearls
that are hanging from her ears. As to her eyes, each pupil is a diamond
worth a hundred guineas. The captain who takes this frigate, will,
besides the honor of capturing her, have a splendid wedding present to
offer to his bride.”
“What an odd caprice,” exclaimed Emanuel, carried away by the
singularity of the object he was gazing at, “to ornament a ship in the
same way that one would an animated, being, and to risk considerable
sums to the chances of a battle, or the dangers of a storm.”
“Why should this astonish you?” said the lieutenant with an accent
of indescribable melancholy; “we seamen have no other family than our
sailors, no other country but the ocean, no gorgeous pageants but the
tempest, no amusements but the battle. We must attach ourselves to
something, having no real mistresses, for who would love us sea-gulls,
who are always on the wing? We must therefore shape to ourselves an
imaginary love. The one becomes enamoured of some verdant and shady
island, and every time he perceives one in the distance, rising from the
ocean like a flower garden, his heart becomes as joyous as that of a
bird, when returning to its nest. Another selects some favorite star
from out the firmament, and during the long and lovely nights on the
Atlantic, every time he passes the equator, it appears to him that it
approaches nearer to him, and salutes him with a more vivid light. There
are others, and they are the greater number, who attach themselves to
their frigate as to a well beloved daughter, who groan whenever the
tempest tears away any part of her, at every wound given by the shot
that strikes her, and when she is at length sunk by the tempest or
the combat, prefer to perish with her, rather than to save themselves
without her, giving to landsmen a holy example of fidelity. Captain Paul
is one of the latter class, that’s all, and he has given to his frigate
the wedding present which he had intended for his bride. Ah? I see they
are waking up.”
“Boat ahoy?” cried some one from on board the frigate, “what boat’s
that?”
“We want to come on board,” replied Emanuel; “throw us a rope that we
may catch hold of.”
“Go round to the starboard side, and you will find the gangway ladder.”
The sailors pulled round, and in a few seconds the two young men were
going up the ship’s side. The officer of the watch came forward with an
eagerness which appeared in Emanuel’s mind to promise well.
“Sir,” said the lieutenant to a young man who was dressed in the same
uniform as himself, and appeared to be of the same rank, “this is my
friend, the Count ---- By the by, I forgot to ask your name?”
“Count Emanuel d’Auray.”
“I was saying then, that this is my friend, the Count Emanuel d’Auray,
who anxiously desires to speak to Captain Paul. Is he on board?”
“He has just this moment arrived,” replied the officer.
“In that case I will go below and prepare him to receive you, my dear
count. In the meantime, this is Mr. Walter, who will have the pleasure
of showing you through the ship. It is an interesting sight for a land
officer, and the more so, as I doubt whether you would find many ships
kept in such order as this is. The people are at supper just now, I
believe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In that case it will be the more curious sight.”
“But,” observed the officer, hesitating a little, “it is my watch on
deck.”
“Bah! you can easily find one of your brother officers who will relieve
you for a short time. I will endeavour to manage so that the captain
shall not make you kick your heels too long in the ante-room. Adieu,
till I meet you again, count: I shall recommend you in such a way as will
insure a good reception for you.” With these words, the young lieutenant
disappeared down the companion ladder, while the one who remained with
Emanuel to show him over the ship, took him into the ‘tween decks.
As the lieutenant had presumed, the crew of the frigate were at their
supper. It was the first time that the young count had been present at
such a repast; and however much he desired to speak immediately to
the captain, he felt so curious to observe what was going on, that he
examined everything with eager attention.
Between every two guns, a table and benches were prepared, not standing
on their feet, but slung by ropes from above. Four men were seated
upon each of the benches, taking their portion of pieces of beef, which
seemed to resist the action of their knives, but which had to do with
hearty fellows who did not appear at all disposed to be daunted by its
toughness. At every table there were two cans of wine, that is to say,
about a pint for each man. As to the bread, it did not appear to be
distributed by rations, but they could take as much as they wanted. The
most profound silence reigned throughout the crew, which, was composed
of of more than from one hundred and eighty to two hundred men.
Although none of those seated at the table, opened their mouths for any
other purpose than to eat, Emanuel perceived, with some surprise,
that they were composed of many different nations, which was easily
discernible from the contour of their countenances. His _cicerone_
remarked his astonishment, and replying to his thought before he had
given utterance to it, said, with an American accent, which Emanuel had
already observed, and which proved that he who spoke to him was born on
the other side of the Atlantic: “Yes, yes, we have a tolerably pretty
sample of every nation in the world, and if all at once a good deluge
should carry off the children of Noah, as it formerly did those of Adam,
our ark could furnish people who speak every language. Do you observe
those three fellows who are exchanging a piece of roast beef for a
clove of garlick, they are lads from Galicia, whom we picked up at Cape
Ortegal, and who would not go into action without having said a prayer
to St Jago, of Corapostello, but who, when once their prayer is over,
would rather allow themselves to be cut in pieces, like martyrs, than
retreat a single step. Those two who are polishing their table at
the expense of their jacket-sleeves, are honest Dutchmen, who still
complain: of the injury done to their commerce by the discovery of the
Cape of Good Hope. You see them--at first sight they look like very
beer-pots. Well, those brave fellows, the moment they hear the drum beat
to quarters, become as active as monkeys; Go near them, and they will
talk to you about their ancestors; they will tell you they descend from
those famous sweepers of the sea, who when going into action, hoisted a
broom instead of a flag; but they will take good care not to inform you
that one fine morning the English took their broom, and made rods of it
to whip them with. That whole table, where they are chattering together
at such a rate, but in an under tone, is occupied by Frenchmen, who
would talk louder if they dared. The seat of honor is occupied by a
chief, elected by themselves; he is a Parisian by birth, a cosmopolite
from taste, a great master at the small sword, singlestick, and a
dancing-master to boot. Always gay and contented, he sings when he is
on duty, sings when he is fighting, and will die singing, unless a hemp
cravat should stop his voice, which may very likely happen to him should
he have the misfortune to fall into the hands of John Bull. Turn your
eyes to the other side now, and observe that row of square and idle
heads. These are strange faces to you, are they not? but which every
American born between Hudson’s Bay and the Gulf of Mexico, would
recognize at once for bears born on: the borders of Lake Erie, or
seals from Nova Scotia.. There are three, or four of them who are one
eyed--this arises from, their peculiar mode of fighting; they twist
their fingers in the hair of their antagonist, and gouge out his eye
with their thumbs. There are some of them who are very expert at this
exercise, and who never miss their mark. So that when they are boarding
a ship, they almost invariable throw away their boarding, pikes, or
their cutlass, and seizing the first Englishman they can catch hold
of, they uneye him with a dexterity and quickness quite delightful to
behold. You will now comprehend that I did not deceive you in what I
said, and that our collection is complete.”
“But,” asked Emanuel, who had listened to this long enumeration with
a certain degree of interest, “how does your captain manage to make
himself understood by men brought together from such distant nations?”
“First of all our captain understands all languages--and although in
battle and during stormy weather he speaks his mother tongue, he; gives
such an accent to it that every one understands him and obeys: him. But
see, the larboard cabin door is opening, and I doubt not he is ready
to-receive you.”
And instantly a boy dressed in a midshipman’s uniform came up to the
two officers, and asked Emanuel if he did not call himself the Count
d’Auray; and on his receiving an affirmative reply, he requested him
to follow him; and the officer who had so conscientiously sustained the
part of a cicerone, immediately went on deck to resume his duties there.
As to Emanuel, he advanced towards the cabin with a mixed feeling
of anxiety and curiosity, He was at last about to be ushered in the
presence of Captain Paul.
He was a man who appeared to be between fifty and fifty-five years of
age, and to whom the habit of walking between decks had given him
a stoop rather than age. He wore the uniform of the French navy,
accord-ing to its strictest regulations. It was a blue coat with
scarlet facings, a red waistcoat, and breeches of the same color, grey
stockings, with frilled shirt and’ ruffles. His hair, rolled up in large
curls, and powdered quite white, was tied into a queue by a ribbon, the
ends of which floated upon his shoulders. His cocked hat and his sword
were lying upon a table beside him. At the moment Emanuel entered the
door, he was sitting upon the carriage of a gun, but when he perceived
him, he rose up to receive him.
The young count felt intimidated by the aspect of this man: there was
in his eye a searching look which appeared to peer into the very soul
of the person whom he gazed upon. Perhaps, also, this impression was the
more powerful, that he presented himself before him with a conscience
that reproached him with the act he was endeavouring to accomplish, and
of which he was about to render the captain, if not an accomplice, at
all events the executioner. These two men, as though they felt a
secret repulsion, the one towards the other, saluted each other with
politeness, but with cold reserve.
“It is the Count d’Auray that I have the honor of addressing,” said the
old officer.
“And I Captain Paul, I believe,” replied the young mousquetaire; they
both bowed a second time.
“May I know to what fortunate chance I owe the honor,” rejoined the
captain, “of the visit which is now paid to me by the heir of one of the
oldest and greatest families in Brittany?”
Emanuel bowed again by way of thanks for this compliment, and then,
after hesitating for a moment as if he found it difficult to open the
conversation, he observed: “I am told, Captain Paul, that you are bound
to the Gulf of Mexico?”
“And you have not been deceived, sir; I purpose sailing for New Orleans,
calling on my way at Cayenne, and at the Havannah.”
“This falls out very fortunately, captain, and you will not have to
alter your course, in case you should be willing to undertake the
execution of the order of which I am the bearer.”
“You have an order to communicate to me, sir, and from whom?”
“From the Minister of Marine.”
“An order addressed to me personally?” reiterated the captain,
doubtingly.
“Not personally to you, sir; but to any captain of the royal navy, who
may be about to sail for South America.”
“Of what nature is it, count?”
“A state prisoner to be transported to Cayenne.”
“And you have the order with you?”
“Here it is,” replied Emanuel, taking it from his pocket, and presenting
it to the captain.
He took the paper, and going near the cabin window, that he might avail
himself of the last gleam of daylight, he read aloud:
“The Ministers of Marine and of the Colonies, orders any captain or
lieutenant, commanding a government vessel, who may be about to sail for
South America, or for the Gulf of Mexico, to take on board his ship
and to land at Cayenne, the person named Lusignan, condemned to
transportation for life. During the passage the convict shall take
his meals in his own cabin, and shall not be allowed to have any
communication with the ship’s company.”
“Is the order in due form?” asked Emanuel.
“Perfectly, sir,” replied the captain. “And are you disposed to execute
it?”
“Am I not under the orders of the Minister of Marine?”
“The prisoner may then be sent to you?”
“Whenever you will; but it had better be this evening, or as soon as
possible, as I do not expect to be long in these roads.”
“I will take care that due diligence shall be used.”
“Is this all that you have to say to me?”
“Nothing further, excepting to add my thanks.”
“Do not add anything, sir. The minister orders, and I obey, that’s all.
It is a duty which I fulfil, and not a service that I am rendering.”
Upon these words, the captain and the count bowed to each other and
separated, more coldly even than they had met.
When he reached the deck, Emanuel asked the officer of the watch for his
friend who had accompanied him on board, but was informed he had been
detained by Captain Paul to sup with him, and that being anxious to
oblige the count, he had placed his boat as his disposal.
She was waiting alongside the ship, and the sailors were in readiness
to accompany him. Emanuel had scarcely got into her when they rowed him
away with a rapidity equal to that with which they had conducted him on
board. But this time she proceeded in sorrowful silence, for the young
lieutenant was no longer there to animate the count with his practical
philosophy.
That same night the prisoner was conducted on board the _Indienne_, and
the next morning at day-break the inquisitive inhabitants of the
coast no longer discerned the frigate which had given rise to so many
conjectures, and whose unexpected arrival, her remaining there without
any apparent object, and her spontaneous departure, remained an
inexplicable mystery to the inhabitants of Fort Louis.