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—