Pirates!

by Celia Rees

  'I found out that she was a slaver,' I said. 'I went to my father. But by the time I got down to the docks to warn you, it was too late. You had gone.'

  'We were children.' He looked at me. 'What could we have done? I would still have sailed. I'd signed by then. And I had no way of knowing ... '

  He stopped what he was saying and stared at his hands, fine-boned, thin-fingered and supple. A boy's hands, but the backs were burnt deep brown and seamed with scars, the palms as callused and rough as a carter's glove.

  'It's a dirty trade, Nancy,' he went on quietly. There was little of the boy I remembered in his dark eyes now. 'Human beings treated worse, far worse than these horses here. Worse than cattle. Worse than any animal. And they ain't animals, no matter what folk say, they are people just like us. And it's not just the Africans who suffer, though it's worse for them, taken from everything they know, kept chained and shackled, packed in hundreds together as close as knives in a box.' He glanced over at Robert, who was currying the flank of my brother's bay until it shimmered like silver. 'It don't compare, I know that, but it's no bed of roses for us, either. We had a good surgeon, but we lost a third of the crew on the first trip, to fevers and fluxes, near half on the next.'

  'If it was so bad, then why did you sign on for a second term?'

  'It was either that, or find my own way back from Africa.' He sighed, as if the burden of memory were too much for him to carry. 'I'd have gone to be a pirate, if we'd met any, but even they were out to avoid us. They could smell us coming. A lot deserted, but I stuck at it. I completed my terms and I'm here for my wages.'

  'Were you not paid?'

  He shook his head. 'And I need my money. I intend to join the Navy.'

  'Join the Navy?' I could hardly believe it.

  Robert looked up in surprise. No one joined the Navy of their own free will. Men had to be pressed to it. Everyone in Bristol knew that.

  'I know what they say, but it can't be worse than what I've known under Captain Thomas. No matter how little the pay, or how hard the conditions. It's a cleaner trade.'

  He looked from me to the glossy horses, the gleaming carriage, and through the wide archway to the golden stone of the house. I followed his eyes, and with them his thought. My silks and satins, my brother's Arab stallion, each honey-coloured stone of our fine new house, all of our wealth depended on this trade that he had been describing. I knew what he was thinking, but I did not know how to reply. I turned my eyes away and saw in my mind the lists that I had copied from my father's ledgers, trying not to blot the ink, striving to keep my columns straight and my writing neat. I had transcribed without any thought for what I was seeing: brass manillas, iron bars, copper rods, cowry shells, pipes of beads, kegs of powder, guinea cloth. Trade goods balanced against men, women, boys, girls. Other columns with prices fetched. We were traders of human flesh. I knew none of the sailors liked to work a slaver. I had not thought why. Until now. I looked away from him, shocked by my own blind complacency, and flooded with shame.

  'I'd not be joining as an ordinary hand,' he went on, looking down at himself. 'Not as I am now. I mean to be a midshipman, and have to present myself as a gentleman. I have to buy the necessary accoutrements and will need money besides for my premium, to buy myself a place. I have a little put by from trading on my own account and when I collect what's owed to me, then I should have enough.' He stood up. 'That's why I'm here.'

  'Why has the captain not paid you already?'

  'He's a villain and I do not trust him. He told me to come back tomorrow and that was two days ago. He's not on board ship, which means he's most likely drunk somewhere, or sleeping off his excesses.' He sighed. 'In any event, I cannot find him, though I've searched very inch of the port.'

  'My father is in London with Henry. Joseph is in charge of the business when they are from home.'

  Just then a horse clattered into the yard. Joseph swung himself down, throwing the bridle to Robert without even looking at him. Then he turned to me.

  'What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be embroidering something?' When he laughed, I could smell the spirits on his breath. 'All the money the old man's spending on making you a lady and you still prefer to spend your time with blacks and horses.' William stepped out from the shadow of the stable. Joseph's hand tightened on his whip. 'Who's this?'

  'William Davies. Late of the Amelia.' William came towards him. 'At your service.'

  Joseph ignored him and looked at me. 'Tars, as well, eh? Choice company.' He turned to William. 'Be off before I set the dogs on you,'

  William stood his ground.

  'You heard me!' Joseph glared at William, his lips compressed in a thin line. He was quick to anger, and brandy made him more so. He is fair-haired and fair-skinned, like me, although his eyes are paler than mine, blue rather than green. They were red rimmed from the drink he had taken, the whites all bloodshot. His flushed face darkened and veins stood out on his forehead at William's defiance.

  'What are you waiting for? Get going, or I'll shoot you for trespassing.'

  William stayed where he was. Even when Joseph turned for the pistol holstered in his saddle, he did not move.

  'I have business here.'

  'Business? What business?' Joseph turned to Robert who was trying to lead horse and pistol away from his reach. 'Leave it!' he barked. 'Keep the horse where he is or I'll shoot you, too!'

  'I want payment.' William stood his ground.

  'Then go and see your captain. Why come to me?'

  'I would if I could find him.'

  Joseph squinted at him. 'What ship did you say? What captain?'

  'Captain Thomas,' said William. 'The Amelia. We came in two days since.'

  'Can't find him, you say?'

  'No,' William shook his head.

  'Didn't look very hard, did you? I've just left him in his cabin!' Joseph jeered. 'I have it all here.' He pulled the saddlebags from the horse and draped them over his shoulder. 'All his men are paid off. Except for a rascal who lost a whole parcel of slaves overboard. That wretch owes him money. Get your hands off me!' He shrugged Robert off and staggered off across the yard towards the house.

  William turned from us, head held high so we could not see his humiliation. As a boy in a man's world, he could expect to be cheated and mocked, and all he could do was endure it. Otherwise they would bait him to madness. He walked slowly towards the stables, came back shouldering his pack, and turned for the road.

  'Where you going?' Robert called after him.

  'Down to the ship to get my money.'

  'No.' Robert followed, catching hold of his arm. 'You go on that ship and you won't be leaving it again. Cap'n says you owe him money. He'll keep you in the hold until it's time to sail. You'll wake up halfway across Biscay, if you wake at all.'

  He was right. William was trapped and he knew it. He turned back, dropping his pack as if it were suddenly too heavy for him. His shoulders drooped as if he carried the world upon them.

  'What am I to do?'

  'You could sign to another ship,' Robert suggested.

  'Without my money? Never!'

  'You could join the Navy anyway.' Robert looked at him. 'It's a hard life, no doubting that, but as you say, it's a cleaner trade.'

  'I do not want to join as a tar. It isn't the harshness and hardship – I've endured that and more. I'd thought to join as a gentleman! Cut a decent figure!' He glanced at me. 'I have my reasons for that, and now they would cheat me of it. They've had near four years work out of me and I'll get nothing!' He held his hands up to show the cuts and calluses. 'For all this! Nothing! It was the only thing that kept me going ... '

  He looked as if he might weep.

  'Wait! Wait there!' I left them in the yard and went into the house. I entered through a side door and paused to listen. Servants' voices carried faintly from the kitchen; a low murmur and cups clinking sounded from the drawing room. I stole across the clock-ticking silence of the hall, taking care not to let my
shoes tap on the tiles of the floor. I stopped again at the foot of the stairs, then trod each step carefully, keeping to the centre so that the new Turkey carpet would deaden my footfall. I passed along the landing to my brother's room. The door stood ajar. I pushed it further and slipped inside.

  Joseph was lying face down on the bed, his powdered wig askew, his boots muddying the counterpane, so deep asleep that a sharp tug on the ear failed to rouse him. I rolled him over and reached into his breast waistcoat pocket for the key to my father's bureau. I could have taken his gold chain, his watch, anything I wanted. I smiled to find him so stupid, reflecting that I was hardly the first to fleece him this way, and I would not be the last. Once I had the key secured, I backed towards the door. He didn't even stir.

  The study door was open. I unlocked the bureau and counted out how much I thought was owed to William for the voyages he'd taken, then added some more for inconvenience caused. It came to a decent sum. I poured it into my own purse to take to William. On my way back, I threw the key in the shrubbery. Joseph would think he'd lost it in his drunkenness. He would get the blame for that, and for the money, once it was missed. The thought gave me great satisfaction. However much Joseph denied it, my father would assume that he had taken it to pay his gambling debts.

  'This is what is owed to you.' I gave the purse to William. 'I'm paying you off on behalf of my father. Since my brother,' I smiled, 'is incommoded.'

  William looked as if he would refuse, but Robert urged him.

  'It's only what's due to you. Take it, son.'

  William took the purse, heavy with gold, weighing it in his hand.

  'Very well!' He stuffed it inside his jerkin. 'I won't forget this, Nancy!'

  'I'm sure you'll look very well in your Navy uniform. You must promise to come back so I can see it ... '

  'Of course I will! I mean to make you proud of me!' He held me by the shoulders and looked at me. He did not speak further, perhaps through shyness, perhaps because he did not have the words for what he was feeling. I, in turn, could find nothing to say. My mind emptied as I stared at him. All I could do was try to read his face, where one look followed hard on another, chasing each other like racing clouds.

  He grinned down at me. We were once of a height, but now he was taller.

  'I'll be back,' he said, touching my cheek. 'When I've received my commission. And then ... '

  'Then what?'

  He grinned. 'Then you'll see.'

  He kissed me. His lips were cool, the kiss was light, but I could feel his lips on mine even after he stepped away. I put my hand up to my mouth, as if to confirm to myself what had just happened. It was not a clumsy salute of the kind exchanged by children, or a brother's cursory caress. It was my first proper kiss.

  'You will wait for me, won't you?' he said. 'If I knew that, I'd brave anything ... '

  'Of course.' I caught his hand and held it fast. 'Of course I will. I promise.'

  With that, he shouldered his pack and walked out of the yard and on to the short curving drive that led from the house. I followed him as far as the gate. He turned once to wave to me, then he went on, whistling a high thin plaintive melody. His step was light, carefree. A butterfly kept him company, stitching the air above his shoulder. I watched until the turn of the road took him out of sight.

  There was no knowing when I would see him again, but I knew that I would wait for him. A lifetime if need be. I still hold to that promise. Even now.

  My Dark-Eyed Sailor...

  6

  I did not see William for almost two years. In that time my life changed again. I no longer lacked for female company. I was surrounded at the day school I'd begun to attend and, with such a quantity of brothers on offer, we did not lack for young lady visitors accompanying their mothers to our home. The girls' giggling, twittering conversation revolved constantly round beaux and admirers. Their thoughts were all of marriage, but I never joined in their chatter and, no matter how much they teased, I would not tell them my secret and why I had no need to chase other young men. My love was a sailor and, when he came home, I would marry him. This was no idle fancy. It was what would happen.

  When the wind came from the west carrying the tang of salt on its breath, I would sit with my window open, listening to the gulls crying about the rooftops and think where he was. In what port? Upon what ocean? At night, I would gaze up at a silver sixpence of a moon playing hide-and-seek with the clouds and imagine him on watch, wondering if he saw the same moon, the same stars, or if he sailed under a different sky. Then I would allow myself to dream. When we were married, I did not intend to stay lonely on the shore waiting for him. William would have his own ship and he would take me with him. We would sail the seas together, just as in my childhood dreams, but in those days I'd seen us as sister and brother. Now I would be his wife.

  Susan was the only person who knew my secret. She was my close friend and confidante, and I could keep little from her, although I did not often speak to her about William. She said I was mad to love a sailor, for weren't they the worst of all in their falseness, and wouldn't she know, having had her own heart broke that many times that she'd stopped counting? Besides, we'd hardly seen each other since we were children. How did I know that he felt the same way? I was building up castles out of the clouds I studied so intently. I told myself that Susan did not understand. How could she? She was too quick to scoff and talk about calf love. What did she know of the kind of love I felt for William? I refused to listen to her. I did not want the fires of my passion doused by bucketfuls of her common sense.

  'Even if he prove true. And even if he be the one for you,' she said in her matter-of-fact way. 'You won't be able to marry him. A poor sailor lad.'

  'Why ever not?' I looked at her in amazement. 'If I love him and he loves me?'

  'Love? Who marries for love?'

  'Plenty, I'm sure.'

  'Not in your class, they don't.'

  I knew she was right. Of course. But I thought that such arrangements were for other people. Not for me.

  'Well,' I said. 'I mean to marry my love and no other.' I stretched out on the bed, arms beneath my head, ready for dreaming.

  'That's as maybe.' Susan busied herself about me. 'The Missis is making other plans.'

  'If she is, she'll just have to unmake them.' I paused, not liking this conversation. I rose up on one elbow. 'What other plans?'

  'To go to Bath.'

  'Bath!' I sat up, alert now, cross-legged in my petticoat.

  'We're all going for the season. Cook told me. The whole household, barring your father. He's got important business. He's expecting a big convoy of ships, so can't be spared.'

  Not that he would have gone anyway. He could not see what was wrong with Bristol's own spa at Hotwells and it was barely a mile from our house. People of fashion did not go to Bath just to take the waters, Mrs Wilkes declared. Father did not understand.

  'Come over here, Miss.' Susan beckoned me to the dressing table. 'So I can do your hair.' She commenced brushing, as she did every night, first to get the tangles out, then to make it shine. 'The Missis has plans for you,' she winked at me in the mirror. 'Mark my words.'

  'What kind of plans?'

  'In the matrimony department.'

  'But I'm too young!'

  Susan laughed. 'Miss Contrary! What about yon sailor boy you've been mooning over. Not too young for him, are you?'

  'But that's different! I do not mean to marry him yet!'

  That was a dream belonging to sometime in the future. Not now. I was beginning to panic. The season was only weeks away ...

  'Never too young!' Susan winked again and I half wondered if she was teasing, but then she mentioned Elspeth Cooper who was already promised and younger than me. I'd seen the man who she was to marry. Twice her age with the marks of pox on him. I didn't want that to happen to me.

  'I'll refuse to go.'

  'Stand up to the Missis?' Susan guffawed at my chances. 'I'll see that when it h
appens!'

  'It'll be a waste of time, let alone money! I'll tell Father! Who'd be interested in me?'

  'Plenty. You're a handsome young woman, even if you ain't prepared to make the best of yourself. Don't know what you've got, that's your problem. I don't know how many would die for this colour.' She arranged my hair about my shoulders in a shimmering cloak of gold and copper, winding a strand round her finger to form a ringlet. 'Don't even need rags to curl it. There's been interest already.'

  'In me?' I didn't know whether to be flattered, or alarmed. 'From whom?'

  'Never you mind.' She commenced brushing again.

  'I can't see how there could be. I don't go out in society. I mean, who's seen me?'

  'You'd be surprised.' Susan gave me one of her knowing looks. 'I seen the way some of the gentlemen calling here look at you.'

  'You mean friends of Father's? But they're all ancient!' I covered my face with my hands. I'd end up like Elspeth Cooper. I couldn't bear that.

  ‘’T'ain't just the beauty,' Susan went on, as if such a consideration were irrelevant. 'You'll bring a pretty penny when you marry. Someone'll get a rare prize in you, Miss Nancy, and that's a fact.'

  Bath was a town wholly given over to pleasure. Mornings were spent at the bath and pump rooms, or else shopping for ribbons and trinkets, browsing in bookshops, or drinking in coffee houses. The afternoons were spent at Harrison's Assembly Rooms at the gaming tables, or drinking tea and perambulating about.

  Susan was right. Young men did not go to Bath for the cure, that was for sure. They went there to hunt fortunes. My father was rich. That made me a fair prospect.

  I found it all unutterably tedious.

  The most important social event of every week was the ball held each Tuesday. Whatever the occasion, my brother Joseph went straight to the gaming tables. He would soon be returning to Jamaica to take over the plantation and he was behaving like a man under sentence. He was keen to enjoy every civilised pleasure, and what place was more civilised than Bath? His chief enjoyment was playing piquet or faro. He was very bad at both. My father's money flowed through his hands like sugar ground to sand.