“Never you mind at all. I’m used to it from my students’ mothers,” said Maria.
She looked around at the decks. Much of the navy’s polish and paint was not present, and although it appeared that the men had tried to make the ship tidy for the affair, it was still less so than Experiment and Comtesse. “The decks are so… big, she said.”
“It’s a merchant ship,” Neville said privately in manner of explanation. It was apparently not enough, he noticed. The confused look remained on her face. “It is not what you see, Maria. It’s what you don’t. This ship is without the clutter of so many guns and all that goes with them; other weaponry and a hundred leering faces.”
“Neville,” Maria asked quietly, “Why so few men? I thought this was to be the combined companies of Beagle and Wasp, plus several officers of other merchant vessels that are too small to host such gala celebrations.”
“Well, it is, yes. They only carry the men to sail the ship – not to sail and fight at the same time. They carry no marines, no midshipmen – you know, boys in training. No Master-at-arms, no sailing master. The master himself must navigate the ship. It goes on and on, and it is true for all these merchants, so when you gather them all together, you still don’t have many men.”
“I see… well...”
A serious hornpipe-dancing competition between the seamen of Wasp and Beagle began on the foredeck. It raised a great ruckus and drew off some of the more serious aficionados of the sport who had come up through the ranks, though not before they visited the drinks table. The music also raised the voice level of everyone else at the gathering, and soon any chance of proper organized introductions was trampled.
With the convoy looming closer, the officers engaged in focused discussion that showed their excitement and anxiety. Unlike previous engagements, Maria was less at the center of things, although never in a corner alone. Mrs. Miller, unlike her greeting, was a somewhat taciturn, serious Anglican, who hovered about her. Except for a few instances when she was pulled aside for introduction to some of the more senior guests by her proud father, Maria did not leave Neville’s arm. When she did, Neville was besieged by everyone there who felt it necessary to say a few words to the captain of their protective frigate.
“You did it, Mrs. Miller,” said Maria at the end of dinner, “Your plum duff was over the top.”
“Maria,” said Neville as they enjoyed one more lazy breakfast at the Fuller House. “Look here – we’re invited to one last dinner. Well, I hope it’s the last. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed it, but the social schedule here is exhausting. We’ve only four days left and we’ve already been ‘flogged ‘round the fleet’.”
“We’ve never experienced such a thing before, Neville. I think it’s just you that everyone loves. I’ve another thing for my list, though. All the music aboard Beagle reminded me that if you can find some, I would dearly love new sheet music for piano.”
“That reminds me, Maria. When I was storing my things aboard, I realized that I’ve not got my watch back. You asked for it two weeks ago. I know it was some pretense, and I hope you haven’t given it to ‘that dreamy Lt. Ratshaw’, but I wouldn’t want to sail without it. I use it for navigation, you know.”
“Still jealous, are we? Should I mention how handsome Vincent Verley is? He’ll still be here when you’re away, too,” she provoked, and let him squirm a minute. “But yes, I know where the watch is. I’ll have it back to you right after this dinner. Where will it be, by the way?”
“In one of the few places we haven’t been – the flagship of the Hudson’s Bay Co. fleet. I’m certain the other Company captains will be there as well, and I think at least one has his wife aboard. As to women, I know that one of their ships carries passengers as well as goods, and they should be mostly moved aboard by now. There may be two or three women of that group, too, though they will probably not be very nautical-minded.”
“I should hope there would be one amongst them not so … Overbearing… as that Mrs. Miller on Beagle.”
“’In’, my dear, not ‘on’. People are ‘in’ a ship.”
She gave him her impudent look, batted her big brown eyes, and uttered the most endearing version of, “Hrrmmpf,” he had ever heard. Neville was beginning to learn that it meant ‘I’ll say what I like’.
The event aboard The Hudson’s Bay Co. Ship Beaver was the most formal of the events Neville and Maria attended.
“They greet us with a receiving line,” Neville commented to Maria.
“So I see. Who are all these people?”
“You will hear the captains introduced as ‘masters’, and their first lieutenants as ‘first mates’.
“Lovely- just when navy ranks were starting to make sense.”
Being thirty-three people, there was no space below decks for such a gathering, so like the event on Beagle it was held under an awning on the main deck. There were eleven masters from Hudson’s Bay and the African Company ships, another eleven first mates, two officers’ wives, and seven passengers from the Cadborough who desired to attend. It ended with Captain and Mrs. Eastwood at the head.
“Neville, I don’t wish to be rude,” whispered Maria shortly after arriving aboard Beaver, “but what is the terrible odor?”
“Have you never noticed the smell of the city dump – even at home?” he asked, “We smell it here in the harbor whenever the wind is from the nor-east.”
“I have smelt it, if the wind is right. But that’s not it. Well, I don’t mean it’s not the dump. It is, but there’s something more.”
“There is, I know, but it’s going to rain again. Maybe the shower will wash it from the air.”
Maria spent the obligatory time with her hostess and the other captains’ wives. Being the daughter of a Jamaican Councilman, she was quite familiar with the etiquette necessary to maintain good relations with the wives of important guests. In addition, she was able to spend some time with the female passengers, and while she was enjoying it, an idea formed. She decided that Vincent Verley was needful of female companionship.
“I have a wonderful idea for Vincent,” Maria said to Neville. I will tell you as soon as we are alone. That odor I spoke of has not gone away, however, even with the rain.”
“There is a blessing in the wind, my dear.” Neville leaned close and whispered as quietly as he could. “The entire odor is not from the dump. Several of the men here are from Africa Company ships, and the fragrance of a slaver cannot be removed from clothing or anything else stored aboard one. The dump’s odor may be different, but it cannot mask the persistent stench of slavery. I will tell you more later.”
As at previous events, Neville was besieged by captains with various agendas. One of these, a Master Bambridge, stopped him with a passing thought: “There is a shipping company in Norfolk that bears your name,” he said, “Is there any relation?”
“I would certainly think not, but the name Burton’s not so uncommon.” He realized with some surprise that it could be an ancestor, though he’d never heard of any in the Americas.
“I thought there was to be one of their ships here, but I haven’t seen her. I interviewed for a position with them, but this lucrative employment with Hudson’s Bay came open and I took it. What was the man’s name? Earnest or Elmer or something?”
“Elliott?” Neville suggested his father’s name in jest.
“Yes. Yes, I think that was it. He would quite remind me of you, if I remember clearly. You could go look him up when you’re there. You’ll certainly have time. Oh, there’s one of our captains. If you’ll excuse me, I simply must speak some business with him. Very pleased to have met you, sir.”
It seemed a very short time until they were down to the last details before sailing. Perishables that would last only the first week or so were going aboard every ship, as were pigs and chickens, goats, sheep and bullocks. Emotions ran high. Petty officers snapped at their men and the officers snapped at the petty officers; most laughed nervously or grumbled at
almost everything. The rain washed through most days, raising the humidity to make sleep difficult, and the breeze blew from the dump day and night.
“We must send Mr. Edwards and Mr. James ashore,” Captain,” said MacRead, “They’re just not well enough to begin such a journey.”
“I was afraid of that. How are they taking it?”
“Mr. Jones is over the moon to stay. I think he’s found a girl in town. Mr. Edwards is either furious or despondent, depending on his fever at the moment. He should recover if he’s left here.”
“Will there be others?”
“Not from this ship, nay, but there are at least a dozen from the others. Will there be replacements, Sir?”
“Not at this late hour. The merchants have taken any available men, anyway.”
“There’s another outside to see you, Sir,” said MacRead.
“Send him in.”
This visitor was a messenger from the Cadborough. Captain Burton had begun receiving excuses from the fleet’s masters; reasons why the sailing date should be postponed. The Cadborough’s master was citing his need for sail repairs.
“I am afraid I will disappoint your Master, sir,” Neville said to the man. “I will tell you the same as I have told all the others: the hurricane season will wait for no mere mortal, the owners will wait for no mere hurricane, and the Governor will not change my orders. The convoy will sail as scheduled.”
Neville took a final trip out to Fuller’s. A bright, sunny day increased his mood as much as might be expected, but his mount, a mottled brown cantankerous underfed-looking hired mare, was not helping. She stopped frequently to take a few bites of any particularly fresh-looking grass and refused to hurry at all. He reached into his watch-pocket and searched it thoroughly with his fingers before remembering that he had not gotten it back from Maria.
Colonel Thomas Fuller arrived at the house just as Neville’s nag plodded up the lane.
“Ahoy, Captain!” hailed Thomas.
“Good Morning, Sir,” shouted Neville in return, “How are you this fine day, and where have you been so early?”
The two horses plodded up next to each other and the riders shook hands; they entered the courtyard together and dismounted. “I am wonderful, Sir. It’s such a fine day. I’ve been up the west side,” said Thomas, “There’s always something. The little mill there is out of service. Some animal got to digging and made a hole in the mill race. I set the men to fill the gap, but it’ll take a week for the pond to fill again. I’ll have to go back out and check the work later – maybe right after lunch. Come, let’s have some breakfast,” he said, slapping Neville on the back.
Someone had seen them coming, so by the time they had dismounted and passed the reins to the stable boy, Maria was waiting by the veranda wearing her riding clothes.
“Quite a lovely picture, isn’t it?” said Thomas of his daughter. Her long dark hair was tied at the back sailor-fashion with a plumeria flower at the side and a yellow ribbon holding the hair back to expose her radiant face.
“You’ll get no disagreement from me on that!’ answered Neville.
This morning’s meal was a simple one of black beans and rice, but there were sides of fresh bread and grapes. “Where did you get grapes?” asked Neville before he even sat.
“Up on the hills there are places where they will grow,” answered Thomas. “Mr. Miller brought some by yesterday on his way to Port Royal.”
The name ‘Port Royal’ made Neville’s thoughts immediately return to his ship and from that to his watch. “Oh, Maria,” he said. “You haven’t given my watch back, and I expect we will sail on the noon tide tomorrow. Is it back?”
“Yes, I have it.” she said, jumping up to run off for it.
“I don’t mean right…..”
She was gone, but reappeared in three minutes with a small wooden box tied shut with a thin purple ribbon. “Here it is.”
Neville could tell she was quite pleased with her success on this endeavor. He opened the box and took out the watch. It looked as if it had been shined a bit, but he knew the gift was the engraving inside. He opened the watch cover and read, “Captain Nev. Burton – With All my Love, Maria - 1691.”
“It’s beautiful, Maria. This engraving is just what I hoped for,” Neville said, looking into her soft brown eyes.
“All right, you two,” said Thomas, “Let’s get on with the day. There’s a book on navigating the Bahamas I discovered in the library that I’d like you to see, Neville. And I would love to hear some of your music this morning, Maria, if you’d play.”
All three took a few minutes in the library to peruse the book before Maria began to play. It was quite a nice volume: A Spanish rutter, for all intents and purposes, with a heavily embossed leather cover. It contained several small charts and drawings of islands, notes of latitudes and islands having water, wood or cattle and dozens of other details.
“I had forgotten it entirely,” stated Thomas. “It came off a captured pirate ship some year or two ago, and I had no need of it, in part because my trading sloop rarely goes there and in part because it is in Spanish, which I cannot read. When I saw it, I thought of you right off, what with this upcoming convoy and your recently-acquired ability to read the language. Whoever lost this was probably hung for his sin.”
“I thank you greatly, Sir. I will take this with me and study it carefully.”
Maria began to practice a piece for her children’s choir and the two men took a few more minutes to page through the book.
After a moment Thomas stood, saying, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. I’ve remembered something I need to tell the men about repairing that break in that millrace.”
Maria stopped playing as he went out the door, “Is everything all right, father?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. I’ll be right back.” He left and closed the door.
“Strange behavior for father,” said Maria, but swiveled on the piano stool, stood and walked to Neville. They then heard Thomas say, distinctly but very faintly, presumably to Juanita, “Leave them be for a few minutes, all right?”
Maria faced Neville. He felt his heart begin to race, recognizing the moment for what it was. Colonel Fuller was allowing them to collide. They were engaged, and Neville was to be gone for quite some time on a risky expedition. It was always risky to sail from the Caribbean up the American coast, and more so at the start of hurricane season. Thomas would not allow scandalous behavior, but he did understand their need for private time, however short. They stepped closer. Neville reached out his hand to her face and touched her lips. They moved closer and he put his other hand on the nape of her neck and drew her in. Her hands slid up his back and drew him to her. They kissed a long, delicious kiss, and they simply clung to each other for several minutes.
Maria tipped her head back and they fastened their eyes on each other’s.
“There is so much I want to say to you,” Maria whispered. “I want to wrap myself around you and talk of our own home and of children and of a time when you don’t go to war. I want to strut and say I am your wife and I want to see more of the world than Jamaica, although I love it here with all my heart.”
“You will have it all, my dear Maria, and more, but at this distance, ‘I love you’ is all that will come out. We will begin to make real plans for our future when I return.”
They kissed again and held each other even tighter until they felt almost breathless. A timid tapping came at the door. Maria, a bit flushed, sat herself back at the piano and began a cheerful tune while Neville retrieved the Bahamas rutter from the desk. The door began to open as he reached for the knob. He pulled it back gently, expecting to find Juanita on the other side. It was she, indeed, carrying a small bamboo tray with a tea set and the little cakes she had made the previous day.
Maria finished her piece and turned around. “Did you see it, Juanita?” she asked. “The watch? Neville, show her.”
While Neville took the watch out of his pocket and opened
it for Juanita to read, Maria said to him. “Now you have a watch from me and a book from father, so don’t you dare forget a gift for him from up north. He will never have an idea, but there must be something for your father-in-law at the wedding,” she added with a wink.
The two were breathing more comfortably now, so during tea Maria launched into an anecdote of her most recent visit to the school. Thomas re-appeared and the four enjoyed the reminder of tea-time.
Neville was not pleased to leave early, but he was forced to leave in mid-afternoon, to allow time for his slow horse.
The shore boat out of Port Royal took him first to the Comtesse du Provence. He felt called there, as if good wishes from Vincent meant more than from any other, but he did not go aboard. He stepped briefly up into to the main chains, and Vincent waved the welcome party aside. The two simply shook hands, each saying “Godspeed,” before Neville stepped back into the shore boat and ordered his men to shove off.
19 - “Convoy to Norfolk”
“Fire when ready, Lt. Ratshaw,” ordered Neville as his ship rounded the point and Fort Charles came into view. The ship began to feel the surge of the sea as their salute commenced and, by the time the fort had fully answered, Neville’s mind had moved to the business of managing a convoy. The fresh sea breeze that replaced the stench of Port Royal Harbor’s dump-wind was quickly clearing his head.
“It’s rather a strange feeling,” Neville mused to Ratshaw. “We have a friendly convoy. We know each other and sail with a common interest – not like some I’ve been on - all at odds with each other and the Navy treating the merchants like children.” Like my first ship, the Castor, he thought.
“We’ll have some sluggards we’ll need to torment, though, Sir, whether through fault of men or ship. You know it.”
“We’ve cleared the east end of Jamaica, Lt. Ratshaw, so we should have seen the worst of it by now. This ship and the others are sailing well. The men are experienced now, so Experiment is faster than the others. We’ll take a station at the van, but not fully forward of the convoy as we beat to windward. From there we can fly anywhere along the line to defend it. Most have sailed in many a convoy, so we will do our best to avoid herding them like sheep. There is not much need to urge speed other than to reach our destination before a storm finds us, but we must remain bunched together for protection. The fear of pirates is never gone.”
A Journal of The Experiment at Jamaica (The Neville Burton 'Worlds Apart' Series Book 2) Page 29