The third letter, bearing the look of an official document, was also addressed to him.
Pointe-a-Pitre, Guadeloupe
26 April, 1807
My Esteemed Mr. Chester Stillwater,
I apologize for the terrible situation by which your daughter’s wedding has been interrupted. As soon as we learned of the cruel mistake, a ship has been dispatched to France to request the return of Mr. Burton as soon as it could be arranged.
Unfortunately, however, the situation also presents an opportunity which we have not had in some time. We would very much like to have two of our military men being held in Barbados returned.
[etc. etc.]
We are ashamed to request it, but we ask a contribution from you of a small shipload of your rum, which might improve our chances of effecting a trade with Barbados for these two civilians.
Capt’n-Gen. Auguste Ernouf
“What… what… what FROGS!” Chester yelled. He banged on the table again. “Such despicable behavior!”
Wilson appeared at the door again. “More bad news, Mister Stillwater?”
“Yes.” He shook the governor’s letter at Wilson. “The bugger Frogs have made it official. The damned governor wants to trade them for French prisoners in Barbados. Barbados will not trade for civilians. Barbados may do nothing but sit on their hands for a year. Outrageous!” He screamed the last word. “I shall write to Governor Mackenzie in Barbados immediately.”
“Yes sir,” said Wilson, “but Mackenzie is not in Barbados any longer.”
“He’s not? Oh, no. Some new fool may know nothing of the situation here. Who is it now, do you know?”
“A Mister John Spooner is acting, sir.”
“Thank you, Mister Wilson. I’ll write him, but this does not bode well.”
“Yes sir,” said Wilson, and retreated to his desk.
Chester took a large swig of rum and began to pen a response to Guadeloupe’s letter. After starting to write, he decided to remove any reference to Neville’s escape and their plan to rescue Marion and Ellen, for fear Barbados might take it as an excuse to do nothing and wait for the results of Neville’s efforts.
The Honorable John Spooner,
Governor of Barbados
4thth May 1807
I am writing you today in the greatest hope that you can assist me in the liberating of my daughter, fiancée to Cpt. N. Burton of the British Navy and her friend Mrs. E. Dagleishe, wife of Cpt. J. Dagleishe, Captain of the frigate Galatea, stationed here in Jamaica, from the French island of Guadeloupe. I expect by now you have received a letter from their Governor, M. Ernouf proposing a prisoner exchange. If you have not already acted on this matter, I implore you to join in their negotiations.
[A detailed explanation of the circumstances follows]
Ches. Stillwater
Proprietor, Stillwater Rum Trading Co.
Kingston, Jamaica
The chime of noon from the company clock, followed immediately by a knock at his door, interrupted Chester near the close of his letter. He looked up to see Frederick Wilson standing empty-handed.
“What is it, Mister Wilson?”
“I’m to advise you of the arrival of a ship in the harbor, sir.”
“Not now, Fred. They come all the time. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Yes, sir, but it’s the Galatea, Sir.”
Chester looked up. “Why do you tell me about that ship?”
“As I said, sir, I was advised.”
“By whom?”
“I went to the wharf, sir, watching to see if it might be a customer arriving – and it was, but I saw another man watching… the same fellow who brought the letters. He walked over to me and suggested my employer might want to know as soon as I might tell him – you.”
“Did he introduce himself?”
“No, he never did. Not earlier, or just now.”
“Ah. Thank you, Fred. I understand now.” Joseph will be outraged. I must save him the embarrassment of creating a scene on his ship, as well as to give such news in a personal fashion, and that Neville is not gone to France, as his letter will certainly say. “Do me a favor, please, Mister Wilson? Wait in the sales room a few minutes whilst I pen a letter to the captain of Galatea.”
Stillwater
4th May, 1807
My Dear Captain Dagleishe,
Might I have the pleasure of your company for supper this evening at Independence Hall? I have something to discuss – a personal matter of the utmost importance.
Che. Stillwater
Chester folded the paper, slid it into a plain envelope, and called Wilson in. “Take this to the harbor for delivery to Galatea, if you please. Be kind enough to request a reply at the earliest and wait for it. It shouldn’t take too long, and you never know – you might see their purser coming ashore as well.”
The clock chimed three before Frederick returned. Chester had finished his letter to Barbados, and began to fidget, not feeling like starting on his accounts, when the door opened. Two men had accompanied Wilson. Chester saw them waiting in the sales room.
“Here’s the reply, sir,” said Wilson. He passed a folded paper to Chester. “And you were right about the purser. He’s the one on the left.”
“Very good. I must be polite. Have them come in a minute. My leg does not want to walk much today.”
Once left alone after the pleasantries, Chester opened Joseph’s note.
Galatea, 4th May
I am most pleased to receive your invitation, Mr. Stillwater.
I cannot accept today for dinner – reports all rush-rush, &c, &c, I shall stop by on my way to see the commandant, however, to hear your news. Is 6 p.m. acceptable?
My best regards,
Joseph
Joseph arrived at Independence Hall shortly before six and was shown in to Chester’s study by Mr. Fries, the butler. Most observers would not forget Joseph. He stood an inch taller than a fathom of height and carried himself with the utmost confidence. With his clean-shaven, swarthy complexion and impeccable uniform, he was the very picture of an English officer.
His surprise to see Chester’s leg in a splint was genuine, and yet more so when Chester stood to give him a strong embrace, rather than simply shaking his hand while sitting.
“Terrible news, I’m afraid, Captain,” Chester said, discreetly wiping away a tear. “I think it might be best if you sit and read these. Mister Fries, bring Captain Dagleishe a glass of rum, please.”
Chester handed Joseph his letter from Ellen. “Oh, capital! Thank you, sir!”
Chester interrupted: “Before you read, I’ll have you know that the news of Neville is incorrect. He’s just been here... but gone now. We can discuss that later.”
Joseph raised his eyebrows and opened his letter; his face changed from joyful to red, and he slapped the arm of his chair. “Buggers! I understand your emotion now, sir. I am very sorry for you and your daughter.” He stood and paced about the room.
“As I am for you and your wife. Read Marion’s as well,” Chester suggested, holding the letter out for Joseph, “I am sure they are similar, but this might hold some other tidbit of useful information. I’ll not ask to read your dear wife’s note. And, here’s another, from the Governor of Guadeloupe, when you’ve finished Marion’s. I’ve penned a response, which I ask you to comment upon, and then … here’s Neville’s plan of action.”
Joseph took a mouthful of rum before reading the other two letters, and another before reading Chester’s response. At the end, he said, “The biggest problem I see is that our ladies are not military, other than Ellen being my wife. Barbados will certainly delay, arguing the point amongst themselves. Our concern about what Barbados might do is very real. They cannot attack Guadeloupe, even for military prisoners. And we also have no idea whether this letter will even arrive in Barbados before all their decisions are made and a trade is under way. None of it will help the company of Speedwell either. Neville estimates around ten men.”
“Yes, you’ve smoked it. I prefer any attack to sitting on our hands. You notice I’ve said nothing about it to Barbados.”
“Nothing at all. Barbados might decide to wait to see if Neville accomplishes anything before giving up their prisoners.”
“Exactly. We are in agreement. I will see if any dependable ship which might deliver this is sailing for Barbados soon.”
“And I will inquire into the need for my service – other than babysitting – since hurricane season is soon upon us. Possibly I can think of a second prong to our attack. This is all a hard pill to swallow, sir, but I must go. I’ve promised headquarters I will be report by seven.” He took the remaining rum in one gulp and stood. “Don’t get up again. I’ll see myself out.” He patted Chester on the shoulder and departed.
Joseph returned to Independence Hall again later in the evening. He’d had difficulty keeping his mind where it belonged at headquarters while giving his report to the admiral. On the way toward the harbor, however, he could not keep his mind off his wife’s predicament. He could not sit in Jamaica and do nothing under such circumstances, any more than Neville would do. Furthermore, he would help his friend Neville in anything, particularly to save Marion. If he could get away his plan would be to cherry-pick some good men from Galatea…
Joseph needed a clear head to talk to – someone as interested in this as he: Chester. When his cab clattered into the entry court at Independence Hall at 10:30 in the evening, he knew the hour was impolite, but he expected to be received.
He stepped from the clumsy cab onto the driveway. No breeze blew and the heat hung heavy with humidity. The cobblestones steamed with evening mist and nothing moved other than a few fireflies in the nearby trees. A single light bathed the interior of the portico with an earie, unwelcoming glow. He first thought this driver would want a week’s wage for this one night of waiting. “I might be a while, driver. There’ll be an extra bob in it for you.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” said the driver over the din of night noise – a high, pulsing cacophony of crickets and frogs.
As Joseph walked to the door and pulled the bell cord, he tried to decide whether the driver’s response was sarcastic or deferential. He waited – then pulled the bell cord again.
After another few minutes of waiting, the door creaked open a few inches. The butler, Mr. Fries, poked his head out, holding a sconce, which he raised to see the visitor’s face.
“May I see Mister Stillwater again, please, Mister Fries?
“At this hour? What are you thinking, sir?”
“I’m thinking his daughter is a prisoner on a French island, and Mister Stillwater will want to talk to me about it.”
“Right you are, Sir, he’s been quite factious. Come in, come in. I’ll see if he feels well enough. See yourself to a seat in the study, if you don’t mind.”
The door opened further, and Joseph stepped in. The sconce’s candle guttered its complaint against the breeze of the opening door. Fries, dressed in his nightshirt, carried a pistol in his other hand. “Thank you, Mister Fries. You may tell him I have an idea.” The door closed, shutting out the frogs and crickets.
Joseph took a lighted sconce from the entry and found his way to the study. He lighted a lamp on one of the end tables from the sconce. He didn’t think Chester would find him rude for pouring himself a drink, so he did. He sat, longer than he expected, trying to refine his plan, while he waited for Mr. Fries to reappear.
“Mister Stillwater will not come down, Sir, but he is most interested in your ideas, and requests you join him in his bed-chambers. I have helped him to sit in a chair.”
“Here’s what I have, Sir,” Joseph said. “Oh, I am sorry. Thank you for agreeing to see me at such a late hour.”
“Nothing is more important to me than seeing to my daughter’s freedom. I am only so blessed to have not one, but two Navy Captains, to assist in her rescue. So, forget the hour. What is it?”
“If you could provide a small ship, Sir, I believe I could go help Neville in his quest. I must assume he has gone with ordinary merchant seamen, since he had no alternative. I mean no disrespect to your men, but they are not man-o-war’s men, accustomed to danger and the chaos of battle. I need only the ship – a swift sloop perhaps, or a Bahamian schooner – I can find volunteers from my frigate for her company.” Joseph paused. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what sort of craft you have available. Neville may have taken your only ship. I’m sorry, I presume too much.”
“Not so. If I don’t have what you need, I’ll buy it. Joseph, I have been exhausted, disappointed, and worried while trying to fall asleep, but too agitated to do so. Now, suddenly, in the middle of the night, I feel full of life and hope. If I could rise up and hug you, I would.”
Joseph rose from his chair by the bedside, leaned over, and gave Chester a long, meaningful embrace – a melding of the five – Chester, Marion, Neville, Joseph, and Ellen.
Joseph stood again. “What ship did Neville take?”
“My brig Elizabeth. She’s a nimble trading sloop, but not the fastest thing in the Caribbean. I wasn’t thinking, I must admit. You’ll need something faster. I have a friend whose business is slow now – a Mister Chesney, and his ship should fit your purposes very well, I believe. I will see if I can pay him for a few month’s use of it, if he will allow it out in hurricane season. It will certainly help to know it will be manned by navy men.”
“If you will please contact Mister Chesney tomorrow, I will discuss my options with the Navy. They may disapprove my request, but I hope to take leave while Galatea is under repairs. If my request is approved, I will hope to depart as the earliest possible.”
“If you are allowed to go, what is your plan?”
With his heart full of hope and sleep far from his mind, Joseph explained in detail.
* * * * *
“Admiral,” Joseph began, “I doubt you have heard, but two American women are being held hostage on the island of Guadeloupe. The French hope to exchange them as prisoners of war for two French officers in Barbados.”
“Americans? Why is this of interest to us?”
“Because one of them is my wife, and the other is soon to be the wife of Captain Neville Burton, also of the British Navy. They may be civilians, but…”
The admiral’s neck turned red; the color spread to his face. “How low can these people sink,” he interrupted. “Why have you not deserted to rescue her? I applaud your honor, sir.”
“I’ve only learned of it today, Admiral. I am working a plan with Mister Stillwater, here in town, whose daughter is Captain Burton’s fiancé. Do you know of him?”
“Burton… Burton… The Frigate Desiree at Trafalgar?”
“Aye, Sir, the same, but I meant Mister Stillwater.”
“I have, yes… a significant supplier of our rum, and an influential man in this city, I’m told. And I hear his daughter is quite a beauty.”
“He is, and she is, no question of either. Please hear my thoughts. I need no Navy ship. Mister Stillwater will provide a suitable vessel. A letter to Barbados has been sent, but they may give no assistance whatsoever, if they know the women are American civilians. Captain Burton has sailed with a cargo of rum from Stillwater, which is exactly what has been requested in a strange sort of ransom, although Captain Burton isn’t aware of it. If I leave immediately in a fast ship, I might arrive as soon as he does, and I know the name of his ship.
“Galatea is scheduled for in-harbor maintenance, when I should normally be allowed shore leave. The Boatswain will in charge, for all practical purposes, and we are soon into hurricane season, as you know. With your permission, I might choose a small complement of well-experienced Man-o-War’s men to accompany me on a… let’s say… a cutting-out action. Why not call it that, since it’s exactly what we plan to do?”
> “Captain Dagleishe, if you have not returned to duty in two months, I shall be quite disappointed. You are dismissed… Why are you still sitting here?”
17: Pointe-a-Pitre
“What do you think, Mister Rawkins? The men seem pleased enough.”
Elizabeth sailed smoothly, but slowly, over low mounding seas a few hundred miles south-east of Jamaica. The breeze rippled the water’s surface and heeled the ship only a few degrees.
“They would be, wouldn’t they? They have work, and food. The voyage should not be dangerous, unless the Good Lord wishes to throw some nasty weather at us. They believe they have an experienced captain – and so far, it looks to be true. No offence meant, Master Burton.”
“None taken. Your men seem to work well together. Have any been in the navy?”
“All fishermen before the merchant work, except young Peter, and his only service was his passage here from Ireland. Why?”
“I don’t expect danger, mind you. I only wanted to know if we had anything of a fighting force, if needed.”
“Not really, but they’re quite loyal to each other, so I shouldn’t get between ‘em. The lot of us have been together for three year now. You’ve got us only because Master Sepp is ill. Mister Stillwater doesn’t care to have her sailing without his best man in command. An absent master may be fine for maintenance, but not for sailing.”
“Mister Stillwater trusts me, and I will soon be his son-in-law, you know, once we trade this cargo for Miss Stillwater and take her home. And I am a Navy Captain, as you were told.”
The Delirium Passage Page 17