The Pyrate

by Michael Aye

  Cooper accompanied Captain Taylor to his hotel, where he was fondly greeted by Otis and later Debbie Russell. Supper that evening was in the hotel’s main dining room. Both Cooper and the captain had steak cooked medium rare, succulent shrimp that had been grilled and then glazed with a sweet sauce, potatoes that had been sliced and chopped and cooked with the peelings on them with a cheese melted over them. A fine wine was served with the meal and later for dessert, egg custard and coffee. The coffee was fine roasted but without the chicory. After the meal, cigars were lit as the group made their way out to the small courtyard. A chocolate drink, a liqueur was served and while Cooper’s taste went to straight alcohol or wine, he enjoyed the drink.

  “It’s called an Irish Crème,” Debbie said when asked about the drink. “It’s becoming the fashion for New Orleans where couples or ladies are served.” The drinks were finished and cigars were down to a nub when Debbie broke the news. “We have a note from lawyer Meeks in regards to Sophia. He said the transaction looked promising and requested he be called upon when next you were in town.”

  “Damme, but that’s good news,” Cooper swore, and then apologized for his language.

  “No apology necessary, my dear. Remember I’ve come to overlook such language from my dear sailor.” Taylor feigned hurt but Cooper insisted he was out of order.

  Sleep was difficult that night. At six a.m., Cooper was up. He called for hot water to fill the tub in his suite and took a bath and shaved. He decided to put on a fresh set of clothes. He had put on fresh clothes before dinner the previous evening but they smelled of tobacco smoke. After dressing he went downstairs. Otis was headed to the dining room to eat. It was just seven a.m., most people in the crescent city would not be up for a hour and the banks and lawyer offices would not open until nine. Heading to the dining room, they passed Mademoiselle Renee. She gave Coop a coy look.

  “That’s one more woman,” Otis whispered. I wonder if that’s experience speaking, Cooper thought to himself, smiling at Otis.

  “I don’t expect Miz Debbie until ten a.m.,” Otis volunteered, changing the subject.

  “The captain will be dressed and ready long before that,” Cooper responded. Years of getting up before dawn to see what the horizon offered made it unlikely for the captain to be able to lay in bed for long.

  Otis called for scrambled eggs, grits, bacon cooked crisp, and black coffee. Cooper had never eaten scrambled eggs to his recollection so he tried them. He was even more surprised when not only did Otis put butter on his grits, he stirred the scrambled eggs into them and then added salt and a heavy topping of black pepper.

  “Oh well,” Cooper said, in for a penny in for a pound. The concoction was very tasty, as were the fig preserves that were liberally applied to the still warm buttered biscuits.

  “Miz Russell has a regular chef for the evening meals but a free black woman does breakfast and lunch. She’s near as good as Belle, not quiet but almost,” Otis told Cooper. He then leaned over and whispered, “But don’t tell her Belle is better or she’ll quit.”

  Cooper was right. Captain Taylor walked in while he and Otis were having their second cup of coffee. Like Cooper, Taylor had finished his toiletry and put on fresh clothes. As he sat down by Cooper, the faint air of perfume could be picked up. Miz Russell must have snuggled close for him to still have her perfume on the captain. That or they had had an early morning

  tryst.

  Looking at Cooper, Taylor snarled, “What are you looking at?”

  “Nothing sir, just amazed at how cheerful you look and…ahem…smell this morning,” Cooper replied.

  “Go to Hades, Cooper. If you don’t shut your trap, I’ll have Otis tell the livery man to put the barouche away.”

  “I’ll mind my manners,” Cooper said.

  “You better,” the captain said with a smile as he opened the Louisiana Gazette.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The meeting with the lawyer Edward Meeks was not what Cooper had hoped it would be. Henri d’Arcy was most interested in selling Sophia’s contract and ten thousand dollars was an agreeable price. However, there was the flat he’d purchased in which Sophia had lived. He would have no further need for it if Sophia’s contract was sold. The flat bordered on the line between a modest white neighborhood and one for free blacks. If the sale of the flat for an additional two thousand dollars was agreeable then the transactions could go forth. If not, he would shop Sophia’s contract at the next Quadroon Ball.

  “Tar and damnation,” Taylor spewed. “The whole row is not worth that amount. What did he furnish it with…imports from China?”

  “More-than-likely they are discounts from LaFitte’s sales,” Meeks answered with a smirk. “But regardless, Henri d’Arcy has a point. I dare say I know no less than a dozen young men who’d pay the twelve thousand and that’d be for Sophia alone.”

  “Not just young men,” Taylor responded, with a raised eyebrow at the lawyer.

  “She’s tempting indeed,” Meeks replied, “but I’m a one woman man, Eli, and Carolyn has my heart and soul.”

  Thus far, Cooper had kept quiet. He was about to speak up when Taylor said, “Tell the damn skin flint he has a deal. Cooper will have a place in town when we’re in port. It will be a damn sight safer than her staying on Grand Terre.”

  “You’ve made a wise choice,” Meeks volunteered, as he took some papers from his desk that had already been completed. “Just sign here, Eli.”

  “Humph!” Taylor snorted, as he took the pen. “Damn sure of yourself, I’d say.”

  Meeks smiled, “We have been friends too long, Eli, for me to not know when you’ll agree to something and when you won’t. I had the contract drawn up in Cooper’s name with you as guarantor.”

  No sooner had Taylor signed the contract than Cooper said, “When will Mr. d’Arcy sign the contract and I can see Sophia?”

  “Just as soon as he returns from a horse buying trip in Tennessee,” Meeks said.

  “What damn luck,” a deflated Cooper groaned.

  “It should not be more than a month…maybe sooner,” Meeks said. Besides I’ve always heard absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Cooper said as he helped himself to a glass of bourbon from Meeks crystal decanter.

  Eli and Cooper were saying their goodbyes to Meeks when a secretary announced another lawyer, the district attorney in fact, Mr. Edward Livingston. Because both men were named Edward, they greeted each other using their last names. Cooper had heard Livingston was an ally of LaFitte, some said a well paid ally. However, this was their first meeting. After introductions were made and beverages offered, Livingston came to the point.

  “We are down two at our card table tonight. My wife will be most disappointed if the tables are not full.” Livingston looked at Taylor, “Captain, would you and your young protégé care to dine at my house tonight and stay for a game of whist or pogue?”

  Taylor looked at Cooper, “Do you play cards?”

  “I have played whist but I’m afraid I only have a rudimentary knowledge of pogue,” Cooper replied.

  “No problem, you can sit at the whist table until you are ready for the other,” Livingston said.

  Back in England, Cooper had been quite the whist player when he had either of the twins, Jessie or Josie, as a partner. They had emptied many a young blades purse when the young man spent more time looking down at bosoms than at his cards. Most were so lovesick and enamored they scarcely paid attention to their losses.

  Once they agreed upon a time and the address was given, Cooper and Taylor left. In the barouche, Taylor asked, “You any good at cards, Coop?”

  “Better than average, I’d say. With the right partner I should hold my own,” Cooper replied.

  “Well, it will not be me,” Taylor advised. “It’s not done that way. You will be teamed up with another guest.”

  “Are these card players good?” Cooper asked.

  Eli was lighting up a c
igar. When he finished he exhaled a cloud of smoke and replied, “Most brag more about what they have lost than what they have won. Still I’d not be surprised if the buy in is not a thousand dollars,” a sum which caused Cooper to raise his eyebrows.

  ***

  The dinner that evening went well, better than Cooper would have imagined. Captain Taylor introduced Cooper as a friend from England whose family owned a shipping fleet, properties in the West Indies, and a large estate in Kent.

  Once, Cooper caught a couple of women looking at his scar. He smiled and touched the scar with his finger and said, “One jealous husband too many.” This caused the women to smile and wave their fans even quicker. It was not long before Cooper found himself surrounded by middle-aged women showing enough cleavage to put the doxies on Grand Terre to shame.

  With the house bright with candlelight and so many bodies close together, Cooper could feel the perspiration bead up on his head. He’d not thought to bring a handkerchief. He was about to excuse himself when a lady handed him her hanky. “I’m Caroline Meeks,” she said by way of introduction. “We are to be partners at the whist table tonight.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Meeks,” Cooper said. Wiping his forehead, he spoke to the little group, “With so many heavenly bodies I find myself absolutely flushing.”

  “So many heavenly bodices you mean,” Carolyn whispered.

  Once the tables were set up and the cards were dealt, Cooper looked at his hand. Hearts were trump, and he had eight. He had no clubs. Soon as the cards began to play out, Carolyn had the ace and king of clubs. She was smart enough to notice he lay off her high cards and played another suit. When she came back with a low club he used his trump. The player after him did not seem to notice the trump was played and wasted a queen. Carolyn and Cooper’s gaze met, they each knew they had a partner that knew their cards.

  By the time the evening was over, Cooper was tired and ready to stretch his legs. He walked out on to the courtyard where several men were smoking pipes and cigars. Captain Taylor’s banker was there, and a plantation owner was talking to him. Noticing Cooper, the banker made the introductions. “Villere, Jacques Phillip Villere, he owns the plantation next to Cindy’s.”

  “I know your neighbor,” Cooper said, “Miz Veigh.”

  “Yes, a most handsome woman,” Viller’s said. “I have tried to buy her holdings but alas, she has no interest in selling.”

  “She is a most capable woman,” Cooper volunteered.

  The banker looked to make sure his wife was not in hearing distance and whispered, “I have to agree with you both, a most capable and beautiful woman. Knows her affairs, she does.”

  Captain Taylor walked out, and seeing Cooper said, “Mrs. Meeks is looking for you, I believe she has your winnings.”

  Cooper walked back in and immediately found his partner. “A most rewarding night, young sir, we shall have to do this again. Not often enough though, to scare away anybody but enough to keep us in spending money.” Cooper was surprised at the size and weight of the heavy leather purse. “Put it away and wait until you get home to count it.”

  “But I need to half it with you,” Cooper stammered.

  Carolyn gave him a quick peck on the cheek and whispered, “That is your half, Cooper. We skinned some folks tonight.”

  Cooper raised his eyebrows and smiled, “We are good partners. Better than the twins I played with in England.”

  “But not as pretty, I bet,” Carolyn said.

  “No, madam, you are absolutely beautiful,” Cooper replied.

  Carolyn laughed. “The weight of that purse has affected your eyesight, my gallant young sir.”

  “Who’s your gallant young sir?” Mr. Meeks said, overhearing his wife’s words.

  “Who do you think?” his wife asked.

  Mr. Meeks said, “He must have filled your coffers.”

  “Overflowing,” she replied.

  “Damn sir, but there’ll be no stopping her now until the two of you have fleeced every windbag in New Orleans.”

  “No need to worry, sir,” Cooper responded. “Between Sophia and the sea I’ll not have much time for cards.”

  Meeks leaned close and whispered, “Sophia is like most women, so you better find time for the cards. I have clients whose wives can spend it with a spoon faster than their husbands can bring it in in a wheel barrel.”

  “Hush,” Mrs. Meeks hissed. “The boy is in love, let him have his honeymoon.”

  Gathering their things the Meeks left as a servant brought up the barouche. Taylor was waiting for Cooper at the bottom of the steps. “It’s cooler out here.”

  “It is,” Cooper said, “but I’m ready for bed. I’m tired, mentally and physically.”

  “At least your purse is full,” Taylor said.

  Cooper took the bag from his pocket and hefted in the air liking the weight and the sound of the clink. “I have to count it when we get home.”

  “No need, its five thousand dollars,” Taylor said.

  Cooper was dumbstruck, “Five thousand. That’s a winning of four thousand after subtracting the stake you advanced me.” He hefted the bag again. Smiling, he handed the bag to his friend. “Now, I owe you eight,” he said, meaning eight thousand.

  Taylor gave a little nod and pocketed the bag. “Remember Cooper, this was a friendly game with people who could afford to lose the money. I don’t want this little success to entice you into the gambling dens with the thought of quick dollars.”

  “No sir, I know the difference. Unless it’s like this or with me mates…off the ship, that is, I’ll not get involved in cards. I’m looking forward to a long life with Sophie,” Cooper said.

  “I wish you luck, son, I truly do.”

  ***

  Later that night, Eli lay next to Debbie. “I don’t think I could have done better if I’d had Cooper for a son.”

  “I think he feels the same toward you, Eli, I think he sees you not just as his captain, but as a father, certainly a friend,” Debbie said.

  “Aye, a damn pirate for a friend.”

  “A pirate you may be,” Debbie said as she cuddled closer, “but I’d wager you’ve been one of the best influences he’s had in his life.”

  “So far, he’s only had a master swordsman and me. From what I gather his father squandered away a plantation, his uncle is a cheat and miser, and his cousin a liar. He did…does have a good mother,” Taylor said.

  “Shh, Cooper will be fine, you’ve taught him well. Now close your eyes and come closer. Oh!! That’s closer than I meant,” Debbie said.

  “Do you want me to move?” Taylor asked.

  “No, I kind of like it, like that,” she said.

  “Kind of, you wench, you love it,” he said.

  “Aye,” Debbie replied, “now less talk.”

  “It’s not talk I’ve got on my mind,” Eli said.

  “I can tell,” Debbie replied, “now hush.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Hotel de la Marine was considered a somewhat rowdy establishment at times. Men did not bring their wives or young ladies of society here as they would Café Mesparo’s, Hewlitts, the restaurants d’Orleans, and LaVeau Qui, or Hotel Provincial. Men did on occasion bring their mistress or some lady of the evening. However, more often than not the hotel and its lounge was where men of reasonable means gathered, played cards, drank better than average liquor and wasted away the evening in camaraderie. The son of a plantation owner, a sailor of rank and the odd young man making his way up the ladder as a professional. Young lawyers, doctors, and sons of men with shipping interest. In general, it was men who had reached their majority, and had the where with all to avoid the lower class taverns and ale houses but had not made it to the upper class establishments. Several of the Raven’s men that would have been considered lieutenants or warrant officers were gathered around a table playing friendly cards. A rule book had been acquired by Cooper and a penny ante game of the latest card sensation, Pogue, was being played.


  Diamond, Spurlock, David MacArthur, Cooper, and the quartermaster Lee Turner, were playing cards. Sitting at the table next to Cooper, learning the game but not an active participant was Bridges. The game had been friendly with lots of good-natured taunts jabbed at others at the table. The men, as a group, had consumed a bottle of rum.

  Looking at the empty glasses, Cooper rose and picked up the empty bottle, announcing that since nobody else had volunteered to replace the empty bottle, he’d do it. “I realize the advanced age and ailments of my older comrades make me the likely choice to wade through the sea of boisterous young men exuding piss and vinegar.”

  It had indeed grown louder as the evening wore on. A thick fog of tobacco smoke drifted in layers across the room. The various scents of different types of tobacco, alcohol, and sweat assaulted the nostrils and burned one’s eyes. The table that Raven’s men had claimed was at the end of the bar and next to a window. It provided a degree of relief from the heat given off by the late summer sun and provided an exhaust of sorts for the tobacco smoke and mingled scents that attacked one’s nostrils. If one was in a hurry to leave, it also provided a quick exit as the door was on the other side of the crowded room.

  Cooper glanced over at Bridges, “Take my place while I’m gone, Tracy, but watch Mac. I’ve seen the way he tries to look at one’s cards.”

  Mac’s reply was less than pleasant. Bridges moved into the empty chair and Cooper made for the bar with his empty bottle. Reaching the bar was not the easiest course he’d ever set. Once at the bar, he sidled up to a tall, dark haired gent. “It was nip and tuck, but I see you made it,” the man said.