Peter Simple

Swinburne fetched the glass and directed it to the spot. “One, two, three, four. It’s the admiral, sir, and the squadron hove-to for the night. One’s a line-of-battle ship, I’ll swear.” I examined the vessels, and agreeing with Swinburne, reported them to Mr Falcon. My watch was then over, and as soon as I was released I went to my hammock.

Chapter Thirty One

Captain Kearney—The Dignity ball

The next morning at daylight we exchanged numbers, and saluted the flag, and by eight o’clock they all anchored. Mr Falcon went on board the admiral’s ship with despatches, and to report the death of Captain Savage. In about half-an-hour he returned, and we were glad to perceive, with a smile upon his face, from which we argued that he would receive his acting order as commander, which was a question of some doubt, as the admiral had the power to give the vacancy to whom he pleased, although it would not have been fair if he had not given it to Mr Falcon; not that Mr Falcon would not have received his commission, as Captain Savage dying when the ship was under no admiral’s command, he made himself; but still the admiral might have sent him home, and not have given him a ship. But this he did, the captain of the Minerve, being appointed to the Sanglier, the captain of the Opossum to the Minerve, and Captain Falcon taking the command of the Opossum. He received his commission that evening, and the next day the exchanges were made. Captain Falcon would have taken me with him, and offered so to do; but I could not leave O’Brien, so I preferred remaining in the Sanglier.

We were all anxious to know what sort of a person our new captain was whose name was Kearney; but we had no time to ask the midshipmen except when they came in charge of the boats which brought his luggage: they replied generally, that he was a very good sort of fellow, and there was no harm in him. But when I had the night watch with Swinburne, he came up to me, and said, “Well, Mr Simple, so we have a new captain, I sailed with him for two years in a brig.”

“And pray, Swinburne, what sort of a person is he?”

“Why, I’ll tell you, Mr Simple; he’s a good-tempered, kind fellow enough, but—”

“But what?”

“Such a bouncer!!”

“How do you mean? He’s not a very stout man.”

“Bless you, Mr Simple, why, you don’t understand English. I mean that he’s the greatest liar that ever walked a deck. Now, Mr Simple, you know I can spin a yarn occasionally.”

“Yes, that you can; witness the hurricane the other night.”

“Well, Mr Simple, I cannot hold a candle to him. It a’n’t that I might not stretch now and again, just for fun, as far as he can, but, damn it, he’s always on the stretch. In fact, Mr Simple, he never tells the truth except by mistake. He’s as poor as a rat, and has nothing but his pay; yet to believe him, he is worth at least as much as Greenwich Hospital. But you’ll soon find him out, and he’ll sarve to laugh at behind his back, you know, Mr Simple, for that’s no go before his face.”

Captain Kearney made his appearance on board the next day. The men were mustered to receive him, and all the officers were on the quarter-deck “You’ve a fine set of marines here, Captain Falcon,” observed he; “those I left on board of the Minerve were only fit to be hung; and you have a good show of reefers too—those I left in the Minerve were not worth hanging. If you please, I’ll read my commission if you’ll order the men aft.” His commission was read, all hands with their hats off from respect to the authority from which it proceeded. “Now, my lads,” said Captain Kearney, addressing the ship’s company, “I’ve but a few words to say to you. I am appointed to command this ship, and you appear to have a very good character from your late first lieutenant. All I request of you is this: be smart, keep sober, and always tell the truth—that’s enough. Pipe down. Gentlemen,” continued he, addressing the officers, “I trust that we shall be good friends; and I see no reason that it should be otherwise.” He then turned away with a bow, and called his coxswain—“William, you’ll go on board and tell my steward that I have promised to dine with the governor to-day, and that he must come to dress me; and, coxswain, recollect to put the sheepskin mat on the stern gratings of my gig—not the one I used to have when I was on shore in my carriage, but the blue one which was used for the chariot—you know which I mean.” I happened to look Swinburne in the face, who cocked his eye at me, as much as to say—“There he goes.” We afterwards met the officers of the Minerve, who corroborated all that Swinburne had said, although it was quite unnecessary, as we had the captain’s own words every minute to satisfy us of the fact.

Dinner parties were now very numerous, and the hospitality of the island is but too well known. The invitations extended to the midshipmen, and many was the good dinner and kind reception which I had during my stay. There was, however, one thing I had heard so much of, that I was anxious to witness it, which was a dignity ball. But I must enter a little into explanation, or my readers will not understand me. The coloured people of Barbadoes, for reasons best known to themselves, are immoderately proud, and look upon all the negroes who are born on other islands as niggers; they have also an extraordinary idea of their own bravery, although I never heard that it has ever been put to the proof. The free Barbadians are, most of them, very rich, and hold up their heads as they walk with an air quite ridiculous. They ape the manners of the Europeans, at the same time that they appear to consider them as almost their inferiors. Now, a dignity ball is a ball given by the most consequential of their coloured people, and from the amusement and various other reasons, is generally well attended by the officers both on shore and afloat. The price of the tickets of admission was high—I think they were a joe, or eight dollars each.

The governor sent out cards for a grand ball and supper for the ensuing week, and Miss Betsy Austin, a quadroon woman, ascertaining the fact, sent out her cards for the same evening. This was not altogether in rivalry, but for another reason, which was, that she was aware that most of the officers and midshipmen of the ships would obtain permission to go to the governor’s ball, and preferring hers, would slip away and join the party, by which means she insured a full attendance.

On the day of invitation our captain came on board, and told our new first lieutenant (of whom I shall say more hereafter) that the governor insisted, that all his officers should go—that he would take no denial, and therefore, he presumed, go they must; that the fact was, that the governor was a relation of his wife, and under some trifling obligations to him in obtaining for him his present command. He certainly had spoken to the Prime minister, and he thought it not impossible, considering the intimate terms which the minister and he had been on from childhood, that his solicitation might have had some effect; at all events, it was pleasant to find that there was some little gratitude left in this world. After this, of course, every officer went, with the exception of the master, who said that he’d as soon have two round turns in his hawse as go to see people kick their legs about like fools, and that he’d take care of the ship.

The governor’s ball was very splendid; but the ladies were rather sallow, from the effects of the climate. However, there were exceptions, and on the whole it was a very gay affair; but we were all anxious to go to the dignity ball of Miss Betsy Austin. I slipped away with three other midshipmen, and we soon arrived there. A crowd of negroes were outside of the house; but the ball had not yet commenced, from the want of gentlemen, the ball being very correct, nothing under mulatto in colour being admitted. Perhaps I ought to say here, that the progeny of a white and a negro is a mulatto, or half and half—of a white and mulatto, a quadroon, or one quarter black, and of this class the company were chiefly composed. I believe a quadroon and white make the mustee or one eighth black, and the mustee and white the mustafina, or one sixteenth black. After that, they are white washed and considered as Europeans. The pride of colour is very great in the West Indies, and they have as many quarterings as a German prince, in his coat of arms; a quadroon looks down upon a mulatto, while a mulatto looks down upon a sambo, that is, half mulatto half negro, while a sambo in his turn looks down upon a nigger. The quadroons are certainly the handsomest race of the whole: some of the women are really beautiful; their hair is long and perfectly straight, their eyes large and black, their figures perfection, and you can see the colour mantle in their cheeks quite as plainly, and with as much effect, as in those of an European. We found the door of Miss Austin’s house open, and ornamented with orange branches, and on our presenting ourselves were accosted by a mulatto gentleman, who was, we presumed, “usher of the black rod.” His head was well powdered, he was dressed in white jean trowsers, a waistcoat not six inches long, and a half-worn post-captain’s coat on, as a livery. With a low bow, he “took de liberty to trouble de gentlemen for de card for de ball,” which being produced, we were ushered on by him to the ball-room, at the door of which Miss Austin was waiting to receive her company. She made us a low curtsy, observing, “She really happy to see de gentlemen of de ship, but hoped to see de officers also at her dignity.”

This remark touched our dignity, and one of my companions replied, “That we midshipmen considered ourselves officers, and no small ones either, and that if she waited for the lieutenants she must wait until they were tired of the governor’s ball, we having given the preference to hers.”

This remark set all to rights; sangaree was handed about, and I looked around at the company. I must acknowledge, at the risk of losing the good opinion of my fair countrywomen, that I never saw before so many pretty figures and faces. The officers not having yet arrived we received all the attention, and I was successively presented to Miss Eurydice, Miss Minerva, Miss Sylvia, Miss Aspasia, Miss Euterpe, and many other, evidently borrowed from the different men-of-war which had been on the station. All these young ladies gave themselves all the airs of Almack’s. Their dresses I cannot pretend to describe—jewels of value were not wanting, but their drapery was slight. They appeared neither to wear nor to require stays, and on the whole, their figures were so perfect, that they could only be ill-dressed by having on too much dress. A few more midshipmen and some lieutenants (O’Brien among the number) having made their appearance, Miss Austin directed that the ball should commence. I requested the honour of Miss Eurydice’s hand in a cotillon, which was to open the ball. At this moment stepped forth the premier violin, master of the ceremonies and ballet-master, Massa Johnson, really a very smart man, who gave lessons in dancing to all the “’Badian ladies.” He was a dark quadroon, his hair slightly powdered, dressed in a light blue coat thrown well back, to show his lily-white waistcoat, only one button of which he could afford to button to make full room for the pride of his heart, the frill of his shirt, which really was un jabot superb, four inches wide, and extending from his collar to the waist-band of his nankeen tights, which were finished off at his knees with huge bunches of riband; his legs were encased in silk stockings, which, however, was not very good taste on his part, as they showed the manifest advantage which an European has over a coloured man in the formation of the leg: instead of being straight, his shins curved like a cheese-knife, and, moreover, his leg was planted into his foot like the handle into a broom or scrubbing-brush, there being quite as much of the foot on the heel side as on the toe side. Such was the appearance of Mr Apollo Johnson, whom the ladies considered as the ne plus ultra of fashion, and the arbiter elegantiarum. His bow-tick, or fiddle-stick, was his wand, whose magic rap on the fiddle produced immediate obedience to his mandates. “Ladies and gentle, take your seats.” All started up. “Miss Eurydice, you open de ball.”

Miss Eurydice had but a sorry partner, but she undertook to instruct me. O’Brien was our vis-à-vis with Miss Euterpe. The other gentlemen were officers from the ships, and we stood up twelve, checkered brown and white, like a chess-board. All eyes were fixed upon Mr Apollo Johnson, who first looked at the couples, then at his fiddle, and, lastly, at the other musicians, to see if all was right, and then with a wave of his bow-tick the music began. “Massa Lieutenant,” cried Apollo to O’Brien, “cross over to opposite lady, right hand and left, den figure to Miss Eurydice—dat right: now four hand round. You lily midshipman, set your partner, sir; den twist her round; dat do, now stop. First figure all over.”

At this time I thought I might venture to talk a little with my partner, and I ventured a remark. To my surprise, she answered very sharply, “I come here for dance, sar, and not for chatter: look Massa Johnson, he tap um bow-tick.”

The second figure commenced, and I made a sad bungle: so I did of the third, and fourth, and fifth, for I never had danced a cotillon. When I handed my partner to her place, who certainly was the prettiest girl in the room, she looked rather contemptuously at me, and observed to a neighbour, “I really pity de gentleman as come from England dat no know how to dance, nor nothing at all, until em hab instruction at Barbadoes.”

A country dance was now called for, which was more acceptable to all parties, as none of Mr Apollo Johnson’s pupils were very perfect in their cotillon, and none of the officers, except O’Brien, knew anything about them. O’Brien’s superior education on this point, added to his lieutenant’s epaulet and handsome person, made him much courted: but he took up with Miss Eurydice after I had left her, and remained with her the whole evening; thereby exciting the jealousy of Mr Apollo Johnson, who, it appears, was amorous in that direction. Our party increased every minute: all the officers of the garrison, and, finally, as soon as they could get away, the governor’s aides-de-camp, all dressed in mufti (i.e. plain clothes). The dancing continued until three o’clock in the morning, when it was quite a squeeze, from the constant arrival of fresh recruits from all the houses in Barbadoes. I must say, that a few bottles of Eau de Cologne thrown about the room would have improved the atmosphere. By this time the heat was terrible, and the mopping of the ladies’ faces everlasting. I would recommend a dignity ball to all stout gentlemen, who wish to be reduced a stone or two. Supper was now announced, and having danced the last country dance with Miss Minerva, I of course had the pleasure of handing her into the supper room. It was my fate to sit opposite to a fine turkey, and I asked my partner if I should have the pleasure of helping her to a piece of the breast. She looked at me very indignantly, and said, “Curse your impudence, sir, I wonder where you larn manners. Sar, I take a lily turkey bosom, if you please. Talk of breast to a lady, sar!—really quite horrid.” I made two or three more barbarous mistakes before the supper was finished. At last the eating was over, and I must say a better supper I never sat down to. “Silence, gentlemen and ladies,” cried Mr Apollo Johnson, “wid de permission of our amiable hostess, I will purpose a toast. Gentlemen and ladies—You all know, and if be so you don’t, I say there no place in de world like Barbadoes. All de world fight again England, but England nebber fear; King George nebber fear, while Barbadoes ’tand ’tiff. ’Badian fight for King George to last drop of him blood. Nebber see the day ’Badian run away; you all know dem French mans at San Lucee, give up Morne Fortunée, when he hear de ’Badi volunteer come against him. I hope no ’fence present company, but um sorry to say English come here too jealous of ’Badians. Gentlemen and lady—Barbadian born ab only one fault—he really too brave. I purpose health of ‘Island of Barbadoes.’” Acclamations from all quarters follow—this truly modest speech, and the toast was drunk with rapture; the ladies were delighted with Mr Apollo’s eloquence, and the lead which he took in the company.

O’Brien then rose and addressed the company as follows:– “Ladies an gentlemen—Mr Poll has spoken better than the best parrot I ever met with in this country; but as he has thought proper to drink the ‘Island of Barbadoes,’ I mean to be a little more particular. I wish, with him, all good health to the island; but there is a charm without which the island would be a desert—that is, the society of the lovely girls who now surround us, and take our hearts by storm,”—(here O’Brien put his arm gently round Miss Eurydice’s waist, and Mr Apollo ground his teeth so as to be heard at the furthest end of the room,)—therefore, gentlemen, with your permission, I will propose the health of the ‘’Badian Ladies.’ This speech of O’Brien’s was declared, by the females at least, to be infinitely superior to Mr Apollo Johnson’s. Miss Eurydice was even more gracious, and the other ladies were more envious.

Many other toasts and much more wine was drunk, until the male part of the company appeared to be rather riotous. Mr Apollo, however, had to regain his superiority, and after some hems and hahs, begged permission to give a sentiment. “Gentlemen and ladies, I beg then to say—

“Here’s to de cock who make lub to de hen,
Crow till he hoarse, and make lub again.”

The sentiment was received with rapture; and after silence was obtained, Miss Betsy Austin rose and said—“Unaccustomed as she was to public ’peaking, she must not sit ’till and not tank de gentleman for his very fine toast, and in de name of de ladies,” she begged leave to propose another sentimen, which was—

“Here to de hen what nebber refuses,
Let cock pay compliment whenebber he chooses.”

If the first toast was received with applause, this was with enthusiasm; but we received a damper after it was subsided, by the lady of the house getting up and saying—“Now, gentlemen and ladies, me tink it right to say dat it time to go home; I nebber allow people get drunk or kick up bobbery in my house, so now I tink we better take parting-glass, and very much obliged to you for your company.”

As O’Brien said, this was a broad hint to be off, so we all now took our parting-glass, in compliance with her request and our own wishes, and proceeded to escort our partners on their way home. While I was assisting Miss Minerva to her red crape shawl, a storm was brewing in another quarter, to wit, between Mr Apollo Johnson and O’Brien. O’Brien was assiduously attending to Miss Eurydice, whispering what he called soft blarney in her ear, when Mr Apollo, who was above spirit-boiling heat with jealousy, came up, and told Miss Eurydice that he would have the honour of escorting her home.

“You may save yourself the trouble, you dingy gut-scraper,” replied O’Brien; “the lady is under my protection, so take your ugly black face out of the way, or I’ll show you how I treat a ‘’Badian who is really too brave.’”

“So ’elp me Gad, Massa Lieutenant, ’pose you put a finger on me, I show you what ’Badian can do.”

Apollo then attempted to insert himself between O’Brien and his lady, upon which O’Brien shoved him back with great violence, and continued his course towards the door. They were in the passage when I came up, for hearing O’Brien’s voice in anger, I left Miss Minerva to shift for herself.

Miss Eurydice had now left O’Brien’s arm, at his request, and he and Mr Apollo were standing in the passage, O’Brien close to the door, which was shut, and Apollo swaggering up to him. O’Brien, who knew the tender part of a black, saluted Apollo with a kick on the shins, which would have broken my leg. Massa Johnson roared with pain, and recoiled two or three paces, parting the crowd away behind him. The blacks never fight with fists, but butt with their heads like rams, and with quite as much force. When Mr Apollo had retreated he gave his shin one more rub, uttered a loud yell, and started at O’Brien, with his head aimed at O’Brien’s chest, like a battering-ram. O’Brien, who was aware of this plan of fighting, stepped dexterously on one side, and allowed Mr Apollo to pass by him, which he did with such force, that his head went clean through the panel of the door behind O’Brien, and there he stuck as fast as if in a pillory, squealing like a pig for assistance, and foaming with rage. After some difficulty he was released, and presented a very melancholy figure. His face was much cut, and his superb jabot all in tatters; he appeared, however, to have had quite enough of it, as he retreated to the supper-room, followed by some of his admirers, without asking or looking after O’Brien.

But if Mr Apollo had had enough of it, his friends were too indignant to allow us to go off scot-free. A large mob was collected in the street, vowing vengeance on us for our treatment of their flash man, and a row was to be expected. Miss Eurydice had escaped, so that O’Brien had his hands free. “Cam out, you hangman tiefs, cam out! only wish had rock stones to mash your heads with,” cried the mob of negroes. The officers now sallied out in a body, and were saluted with every variety of missile, such as rotten oranges, cabbage-stalks, mud, and cocoa-nut shells. We fought our way manfully, but as we neared the beach the mob increased to hundreds, and at last we could proceed no further, being completely jammed up by the niggers, upon whose heads we could make no more impression than upon blocks of marble. “We must draw our swords,” observed an officer. “No, no,” replied O’Brien, “that will not do; if once we shed blood, they will never let us get on board with our lives. The boat’s crew by this time must be aware that there is a row.” O’Brien was right. He had hardly spoken, before a lane was observed to be made through the crowd in the distance, which in two minutes was open to us. Swinburne appeared in the middle of it, followed by the rest of the boat’s crew, armed with the boat’s stretchers, which they did not aim at the heads of the blacks, but swept them like scythes against their shins. This they continued to do, right and left of us, as we walked through and went down to the boats, the seamen closing up the rear with their stretchers, with which they ever and anon made a sweep at the black fellows if they approached too near. It was now broad daylight, and in a few minutes we were again safely on board the frigate. Thus ended the first and last dignity ball that I attended.

Chapter Thirty Two

I am claimed by Captain Kearney as a relation—Trial of skill between first lieutenant and captain with the long bow—The shark, the pug dog, and the will—A quarter-deck picture

As the admiral was not one who would permit the ships under his command to lie idle in port, in a very few days after the dignity hall which I have described, all the squadron sailed on their various destinations. I was not sorry to leave the bay, for one soon becomes tired of profusion, and I cared nothing for either oranges, bananas, or shaddocks, nor even for the good dinners and claret at the tables of the army mess and gentlemen of the island. The sea breeze soon became more precious to us than anything else; and if we could have bathed without the fear of a shark, we should have equally appreciated that most refreshing of all luxuries under the torrid zone. It was therefore with pleasure that we received the information that we were to sail the next day to cruise off the French island of Martinique. Captain Kearney had been so much on shore that we saw but little of him, and the ship was entirely under the control of the first lieutenant, of whom I have hitherto not spoken. He was a very short, pock-marked man, with red hair and whiskers, a good sailor, and not a bad officer; that is, he was a practical sailor, and could show any foremast man his duty in any department, and this seamen very much appreciate, as it is not very common; but I never yet knew an officer who prided himself upon his practical knowledge, who was at the same time a good navigator; and too often, by assuming the Jack Tar, they lower the respect due to them, and become coarse and vulgar in their manners and language. This was the case with Mr Phillott, who prided himself upon his slang, and who was at one time “hail fellow, well met” with the seamen, talking to them, and being answered as familiarly as if they were equals, and at another, knocking the very same men down with a handspike if he were displeased. He was not bad tempered, but very hasty; and his language to the officers was occasionally very incorrect—to the midshipmen invariably so. However, on the whole, he was not disliked, although he was certainly not respected as a first lieutenant should have been. It is but fair to say that he was the same to his superiors as he was to his inferiors; and the bluntness with which he used to contradict and assert his disbelief of Captain Kearney’s narratives often produced a coolness between them for some days.

The day after we sailed from Carlisle Bay I was asked to dine in the cabin. The dinner was served upon plated dishes, which looked very grand, but there was not much in them. “This plate,” observed the captain, “was presented to me by some merchants for my exertions in saving their property from the Danes, when I was cruising off Heligoland.”

“Why, that lying steward of yours told me that you bought it at Portsmouth,” replied the first lieutenant: “I asked him in the galley this morning.”

“How came you to assert such a confounded falsehood, sir?” said the captain to the man who stood behind his chair.

“I only said that I thought so,” replied the steward.

“Why, didn’t you say that the bill had been sent in, through you, seven or eight times, and that the captain had paid it with a flowing sheet?”

“Did you dare say that, sir?” interrogated the captain, very angrily.

“Mr Phillott mistook me, sir,” replied the steward. “He was so busy damning the sweepers, that he did not hear me right. I said, the midshipmen had paid their crockery bill with the fore-topsail.”

“Ay, ay,” replied the captain, “that’s much more likely.”

“Well, Mr Steward,” replied Mr Phillott, “I’ll be damned if you ar’n’t as big a liar as your—” (master he was going to plump out, but fortunately the first lieutenant checked himself, and added)—“as your father was before you.”

The captain changed the conversation by asking me whether I would take a slice of ham. “It’s real Westphalia, Mr Simple; I have them sent me direct by Count Troningsken, an intimate friend of mine, who kills his own wild boars in the Hartz mountains.”