“—I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning
mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows.”
Tempest.
It has been said that the periagua was in motion, before our two
adventurers succeeded in stepping on board. The arrival of the Patroon
of Kinderhook and of Alderman Van Beverout was expected, and the
schipper had taken his departure at the precise moment of the turn in
the current, in order to show, with a sort of pretending independence
which has a peculiar charm for men in his situation, that ‘time and
tide wait for no man.’ Still there were limits to his decision; for,
while he put the boat in motion, especial care was taken that the
circumstance should not subject a customer so important and constant as
the Alderman, to any serious inconvenience. When he and his friend had
embarked, the painters were thrown aboard, and the crew of the
ferry-boat began to set their vessel, in earnest, towards the mouth of
the creek. During these movements, a young negro was seated in the bow
of the periagua, with his legs dangling, one on each side of the
cut-water, forming no bad apology for a figure-head. He held a conch to
his mouth, and with his two glossy cheeks inflated like those of Eolus,
and his dark glittering eyes expressing the delight he found in drawing
sounds from the shell, he continued to give forth the signal for
departure.
“Put up the conch, thou bawler!” cried the Alderman, giving the younker
a rap on his naked poll, in passing, with the end of his cane, that
might have disturbed the harmony of one less bent on clamor. “A
thousand windy trumpeters would be silence itself, compared to such a
pair of lungs! How now Master Schipper, is this your punctuality, to
start before your passengers are ready?”
The undisturbed boatman, without removing the pipe from his mouth,
pointed to the bubbles on the water which were already floating
outward, a certain evidence that the tide was on the ebb.
“I care nothing for your ins and outs, your ebbs and floods,” returned
the Alderman, in heat. “There is no better time-piece than the leg and
eye of a punctual man. It is no more pleasant to go before one is
ready, than to tarry when all business is done. Harkee, Master
Schipper, you are not the only navigator in this bay, nor is your craft
the swiftest that was ever launched. Have a care; though an acquiescing
man by nature, I know how to encourage an opposition, when the public
good seriously calls for my support.”
To the attack on himself, the schipper was stoically indifferent, but
to impeach the qualities of the periagua was to attack one who depended
solely on his eloquence for vindication. Removing his pipe, therefore,
he rejoined on the Alderman, with that sort of freedom, that the sturdy
Hollanders never failed to use to all offenders, regardless alike of
rank or personal qualities.
“Der wind-gall and Aldermen!” he growled, in the dialect of the
country; “I should be glad to see the boat in York-bay that can show
the Milk-Maid her stern! The Mayor and council-men had better order the
tide to turn when they please; and then as each man will think of his
own pleasure, a pretty set of whirlpools they will give us in the
harbor!”
The schipper, having delivered himself of his sentiments, to this
effect, resumed his pipe, like a man who felt he deserved the meed of
victory, whether he were to receive it, or not.
“It is useless to dispute with an obstinate man,” muttered the Alderman
making his way through vegetable baskets, butter-tubs, and all the
garniture of a market-boat, to the place occupied by his niece, in the
stern-sheets. “Good morrow to thee Alida dear; early rising will make a
flower-garden of thy cheeks, and the fresh air of the Lust in Rust will
give even thy roses a deeper bloom.”
The mollified burgher then saluted the cheek whose bloom had been
deepened by his remark, with a warmth that showed he was not without
natural affection; touched his hat, in return for a low bow that he
received from an aged white man-servant; in a clean but ancient livery;
and nodded to a young negress, whose second-hand finery sufficiently
showed she was a personal attendant of the heiress.
A second glance at Alida de Barbérie was scarcely necessary to betray
her mixed descent. From her Norman father, a Huguenot of the petite
noblesse, she had inherited her raven hair, the large, brilliant
coal-black eyes, in which wildness was singularly relieved by
sweetness, a classical and faultless profile, and a form which was both
taller and more flexible than commonly fell to the lot of the damsels
of Holland. From her mother, la belle Barbérie, as the maiden was often
playfully termed, had received a skin, fair and spotless as the flower
of France, and a bloom which rivalled the rich tints of an evening sky
in her native land. Some of the embonpoint, for which the sister of the
Alderman had been a little remarkable, had descended also to her fairer
daughter. In Alida, however, this peculiarity did not exceed the
fullness which became her years, rounding her person and softening the
outlines of her form, rather than diminishing its ease and grace. These
personal advantages were embellished by a neat but modest travelling
habit, a little beaver that was shaded by a cluster of drooping
feathers, and a mien that, under the embarrassment of her situation
preserved the happiest medium between modesty and perfect
self-possession.
When Alderman Van Beverout joined this fair creature, in whose future
happiness he was fully justified in taking the deep interest which he
has betrayed in some of the opening scenes of this volume, he found her
engaged in a courteous discourse with the young man, who was generally
considered as the one, among the numerous pretenders to her favor, who
was most likely to succeed. Had other cause been wanting, this sight
alone would have been sufficient to restore his good-humor; and, making
a place for himself, by quietly dispossessing François, the domestic of
his niece, the persevering burgher endeavored to encourage an
intercourse, that he had reason to think must terminate in the result
he both meditated and desired.
In the present effort, however, the Alderman failed. There is a feeling
which universally pervades landsmen and landswomen, when they first
embark on an element to which they are strangers, that ordinarily shuts
their mouths and renders them meditative. In the older and more
observant travellers, it is observation and comparison; while with the
younger and more susceptible, it is very apt to take the character of
sentiment. Without stopping to analyze the cause, or the consequences,
in the instance of the Patroon and la belle Barbérie, it will be
sufficient to state, that in spite of all the efforts of the worthy
burgher, who had navigated the sluggish creek too often to be the
subject of any new emotions, his youthful companions gradually grew
silent and thoughtful. Though a celibite in his own person, Myndert had
not now to learn that the infant god as often does his mischief through
this quiet agency, as in any other manner. He became, therefore, mute
in his turn, watching the slow movement of the periagua with as much
assiduity as if he saw his own image on the water.
A quarter of an hour of this characteristic, and it is to be inferred
agreeable navigation, brought the boat to the mouth of the inlet. Here
a powerful effort forced her into the tide’s-way, and she might be said
to put forth on her voyage. But while the black crew were trimming the
sails, and making the other necessary preparations for departure, a
voice was heard hailing them from the shore, with an order rather than
a request, that they would stay their movements.
“Hilloa, the periagua!” it cried. “Haul over your head-sheet, and jam
the tiller down into the lap of that comfortable-looking old gentleman.
Come: bear a hand, my hummers! or your race-horse of a craft will get
the bit into its mouth, and run away with you.”
This summons produced a pause in the movements of the crew. After
regarding each other, in surprise and admiration, the watermen drew the
head-sheet over, put the helm a-lee, without however invading the lap
of the Alderman, and the boat became stationary, at the distance of a
few rods from the shore. While the new passenger was preparing to come
off in a yawl, those who awaited his movements had leisure to examine
his appearance, and to form their different surmises concerning his
character.
It is scarcely necessary to say, that the stranger was a son of the
ocean. He was of a firmly knit and active frame, standing exactly six
feet in his stockings. The shoulders though square were compact, the
chest full and high, the limbs round, neat, and muscular,—the whole
indicating a form in which strength and activity were apportioned with
the greatest accuracy. A small bullet head was set firmly on its broad
foundation, and it was thickly covered with a mass of brown hair that
was already a little grizzled. The face was that of a man of thirty,
and it was worthy of the frame, being manly, bold, decided, and rather
handsome; though it expressed little more than high daring, perfect
coolness, some obstinacy, and a certain degree of contempt for others,
that its owner did not always take the trouble to conceal. The color
was a rich, deep, and uniform red, such as much exposure is apt to give
to men whose complexions are, by nature, light and florid.
The dress of the stranger was quite as remarkable as his person. He
wore a short pea-jacket, cut tight and tastefully; a little, low, and
rakish cap, and full bell-mouthed trousers, all in a spotlessly white
duck; a material well adapted to the season and the climate. The first
was made without buttons, affording an apology for the use of a rich
Indian shawl, that belted his body and kept the garment tight to his
frame. Faultlessly clean linen appeared through the opening above, and
a collar, of the same material, fell over the gay bandanna, which was
thrown, with a single careless turn, around his throat. The latter was
a manufacture then little known in Europe, and its use was almost
entirely confined to seamen of the long voyage. One of its ends was
suffered to blow about in the wind, but the other was brought down with
care over the chest, where it was confined, by springing the blade of a
small knife with an ivory handle, in a manner to confine the silk to
the linen: a sort of breast-pin that is even now much used by mariners.
If we add, that light, canvas slippers, with foul-anchors worked in
worsted upon their insteps, covered his feet, we shall say all that is
necessary of his attire.
The appearance of one, of the air and dress we have just described,
excited a strong sensation among the blacks who scrubbed the stoops and
pavements. He was closely attended to the place where he hailed the
periagua, by four or five loungers, who studied his manner and
movements with the admiration that men of their class seldom fail to
bestow on those who bear about them the evidence of having passed lives
of adventure, and perhaps of hardship and daring. Beckoning to one of
these idlers to follow him, the hero of the India-shawl stepped into an
empty boat, and casting loose its fast, he sculled the light yawl
towards the craft which was awaiting his arrival. There was, in truth,
something in the reckless air, the decision, and the manly attitudes of
so fine a specimen of a seaman, that might have attracted notice from
those who were more practised in the world than the little crowd of
admirers he left behind him. With an easy play of wrist and elbow, he
caused the yawl to glide ahead like some indolent marine animal
swimming through its element, and as he stood, firm as a planted
statue, with a foot on each gunwale, there was much of that confidence
created by his steadiness, that one acquires by viewing the repeated
and successful efforts of a skilful rope-dancer. When the yawl reached
the side of the periagua, he dropped a small Spanish coin into the open
palm of the negro, and sprang on the side of the latter, with an
exertion of muscle that sent the little boat he quitted half-way back
towards the shore, leaving the frightened black to steady himself, in
his rocking tenement, in the best manner he could.
The tread and posture of the stranger, when he gained the half-deck of
the periagua, was finely nautical, and confident to audacity. He seemed
to analyze the half-maritime character of the crew and passengers, at a
glance, and to feel that sort of superiority over his companions, which
men of his profession were then a little too wont to entertain towards
those whose ambition could be bounded by terra-firma. His eye turned
upward, at the simple rig and modest sails of the periagua, while his
upper lip curled with the knowing expression of a critic. Then kicking
the fore-sheet clear of its elect, and suffering the sail to fill, he
stepped from one butter-tub to another, making a stepping-stone of the
lap of a countryman by the way, and alighted in the stern-sheets in the
midst of the party of Alderman Van Beverout, with the agility and
fearlessness of a feathered Mercury. With a coolness that did infinite
credit to his powers for commanding, his next act was to dispossess the
amazed schipper of the helm, taking the tiller into his own hands, with
as much composure as if he were the every-day occupant of the post.
When he saw that the boat was beginning to move through the water, he
found leisure to bestow some observation on his fellow-voyagers. The
first that met his bold and reckless eye was François, the domestic of
Alida.
“If it come to blow in squalls, Commodore,” observed the intruder, with
a gravity that half deceived the attentive Frenchman, while he pointed
to the bag in which the latter wore his hair, “you’ll be troubled to
carry your broad pennant. But so experienced an officer has not put to
sea without having a storm-cue in readiness for foul weather.”
The valet did not, or affected not to understand the allusion,
maintaining an air of dignified but silent superiority.
“The gentleman is in a foreign service, and does not understand an
English mariner! The worst that can come, after all, of too much
top-hamper, is to cut away, and let it drift with the scud. May I make
bold to ask, judge, if the courts have done anything, of late,
concerning the freebooters among the islands?”
“I have not the honor to bear Her Majesty’s commission,” coldly
returned Van Staats of Kinderhook, to whom this question had been
hardily put.
“The best navigator is sometimes puzzled by a hazy observation, and
many an old seaman has taken a fog-bank for solid ground. Since you are
not in the courts, sir, I wish you joy; for it is running among shoals
to be cruising there, whether as judge or suitor. One is never fairly
snug and landlocked, while in company of a lawyer, and yet the devil
himself cannot always give the sharks a good offing. A pretty sheet of
water, friends, and one as snug as rotten cables and foul winds can
render desirable, is this bay of York!”
“You are a mariner of the long voyage,” returned the Patroon, unwilling
that Alida should not believe him equal to bandying wits with the
stranger.
“Long, or short; Calcutta, or Cape Cod; dead reckoning, eye-sight, or
star-gazing, all’s one to your real dolphin. The shape of the coast
between Fundy and Horn, is as familiar to my eye, as an admirer to this
pretty young lady; and as to the other shore, I have run it down
oftener than the Commodore, here, has ever set his pennant, blow high
or blow low. A cruise like this is a Sunday in my navigation; though I
dare say, you took leave of the wife, blessed the children, overhauled
the will, and sent to ask a good word from the priest, before you came
aboard?”
“Had these ceremonies been observed, the danger would not have been
increased,” said the young Patroon, anxious to steal a glance at la
belle Barbérie, though his timidity caused him, in truth, to look the
other way. “One is never nearer danger, for being prepared to meet it.”
“True; we must all die, when the reckoning is out. Hang or drown—gibbet
or bullet clears the world of a great deal of rubbish, or the decks
would get to be so littered that the vessel could not be worked. The
last cruise is the longest of all; and honest papers, with a clean bill
of health, may help a man into port, when he is past keeping the open
sea. How now, schipper! what lies are floating about the docks this
morning? when did the last Albany-man get his tub down the river, or
whose gelding has been ridden to death in chase of a witch.”
“The devil’s babes!” muttered the Alderman; “there is no want of
roisterers to torment such innocents!”
“Have the buccaneers taken to praying, or does their trade thrive in
this heel of the war?” continued the mariner of the India-shawl,
disregarding the complaint of the burgher. “The times are getting heavy
for men of metal, as may be seen by the manner in which yon cruiser
wears out her ground-tackle, instead of trying the open sea. May I
spring every spar I carry, but I would have the boat out and give her
an airing, before to-morrow, if the Queen would condescend to put your
humble servant in charge of the craft! The man lies there, at his
anchors, as if he had a good freight of real Hollands in his hold, and
was waiting for a few bales of beaver-skins to barter for his strong
waters.”
As the stranger coolly expressed this opinion of Her Majesty’s ship
Coquette, he rolled his glance over the persons of his companions,
suffering it to rest, a moment, with a secret significance, on the
steady eye of the burgher.
“Well—” he continued, “the sloop answers for a floating vane to tell
which way the tide is running, if she does nothing better; and that
must be a great assistance, Schipper, in the navigation of one who
keeps as bright a look-out on the manner in which the world whirls
round, as a gentleman of your sagacity!”
“If the news in the creek be true,” rejoined the unoffended owner of
the periagua, “there will be other business for Captain Ludlow and the
Coquette, before many days!”
“Ah! having eaten all his meat and bread, the man will be obliged to
victual his ship anew! ’Twere a pity so active a gentleman should keep
a fast, in a brisk tide’s-way. And when his coppers are once more
filled, and the dinner is fairly eaten, what dost think will be his
next duty?”
“There is a report, among the boatmen of the South Bay, that something
was seen, yester’night, off the outer side of Long Island!”
“I’ll answer for the truth of that rumor, for having come up with the
evening flood, I saw it myself.”
“Der duyvel’s luck! and what dost take it to be?”
“The Atlantic Ocean; if you doubt my word, I appeal to this
well-ballasted old gentleman, who being a schoolmaster, is able to give
you latitude and longitude for its truth.”
“I am Alderman Van Beverout,” muttered the object of this new attack,
between his teeth, though apparently but half-disposed to notice one
who set so little bounds to his discourse.
“I beg a thousand pardons!” returned the strange seaman, with a grave
inclination of his body. “The stolidity of your worship’s countenance
deceived me. It may be, indeed, unreasonable to expect any Alderman to
know the position of the Atlantic Ocean! And yet, gentlemen, on the
honor of a man who has seen much salt water in his time, I do assure
you the sea, I speak of, is actually there. If there be anything on it,
or in it, that should not in reason be so, this worthy commander of the
periagua will let us know the rest.”
“A wood-boat from the inlet says, the ‘Skimmer of the Seas’ was lately
seen standing along the coast,” returned the ferry-man, in the tone of
one who is certain of delivering matter of general interest.
“Your true sea-dog, who runs in and out of inlets, is a man for
marvels!” coolly observed the stranger. “They know the color of the sea
at night, and are for ever steering in the wind’s eye in search of
adventures. I wonder, more of them are not kept at making almanacs!
There was a mistake, concerning a thunder-storm, in the last I bought,
and all for the want of proper science. And pray, friend, who is this
‘Skimmer of the Seas,’ that is said to be running after his needle,
like a tailor who has found a hole in his neighbor’s coat?”
“The witches may tell! I only know that such a rover there is, and that
he is here to-day, and there to-morrow. Some say, it is only a craft of
mist, that skims the top of the seas, like a sailing water-fowl, and
others think it is the sprite of a vessel that was rifled and burnt by
Kidd, in the Indian Ocean, looking for its gold and the killed. I saw
him once, myself, but the distance was so great, and his manœuvres so
unnatural, that I could hardly give a good account of his hull, or
rig.”
“This is matter that don’t get into the log every watch! Whereaway, or
in what seas, didst meet the thing?”
“’Twas off the Branch. We were fishing in thick weather, and when the
mist lifted, a little, there was a craft seen standing in-shore,
running like a race-horse; but while we got our anchor, she had made a
league of offing, on the other tack!”
“A certain proof of either her, or your, activity! But what might have
been the form and shape of your fly-away?”
“Nothing determined. To one she seemed a full-rigged and booming ship;
another took her for a Bermudian scudder, while to me she had the look
of twenty periaguas built into a single craft. It is well known,
however, that a West-Indiaman went to sea that night, and, though it is
now three years, no tidings of her, or her crew, have ever come to any
in York. I have never gone upon the banks to fish since that day, in
thick weather.”
“You have done well,” observed the stranger, “I have seen many
wonderful sights, myself, on the rolling ocean; and he, whose business
it is to lay between wind and water, like you, my friend, should never
trust himself within reach of one of those devil’s flyers I could tell
you a tale of an affair in the calm latitudes, under the burning sun,
that would be a lesson to all of over-bold curiosity! Commission and
character are not affairs for your in-shore coaster.”
“We have time to hear it,” observed the Patroon, whose attention had
been excited by the discourse, and who read in the dark eye of Alida
that she felt an interest in the expected narrative.
But the countenance of the stranger suddenly grew serious. He shook his
head, like one who had sufficient reasons for his silence; and,
relinquishing the tiller, he quite coolly obliged a gaping countryman,
in the centre of the boat, to yield his place, where he laid his own
athletic form, at full length, folded his arms on his breast, and shut
his eyes. In less than five minutes, all within hearing had audible
evidence that this extraordinary son of the ocean was in a sound sleep.