Chapter Ten.
The Virginia of New Orleans.
Having arrived within pistol-shot of the chase, we hove-to to windward of her, lowered a boat, and I proceeded to board her. As we swept round under her stern, in order to reach her lee gangway, I took a good look at the name on her counter. Yes; there was nothing of pretence or fraud about it, so far as I could see; the words were not only painted upon the wood, but were actually cut deep into it as well; and, furthermore, the paint had all the appearance of having been applied at the same time as that on the rest of her hull.
Upon our arrival alongside I was somewhat surprised to observe that the crew had not taken the trouble to throw open the gangway, or put over a side ladder; I had therefore to watch my opportunity and scramble aboard by way of the main chains. The Virginia was a very fine craft indeed, measuring quite eight hundred tons, and carrying a fine, lofty, full poop, by the rail of which stood a typical Yankee, eyeing me with even greater malevolence than the Yankee of that day was wont to exhibit toward the Britisher. He was tall, lean, and cadaverous, with long, straight, colourless hair reaching almost to his shoulders, and a scanty goatee beard adorning his otherwise clean-shaven face. His outer garments, consisting of blue swallow-tail coat with brass buttons and white kerseymere waistcoat and trousers—the former also trimmed with brass buttons—seemed to have been made for a man many sizes smaller than himself; for the coat was distinctly short at the waist, while the sleeves terminated some four inches above the wrist; his waistcoat revealed some two inches of soiled shirt between its lower hem and the top of his trousers; and the latter garments did not reach his bony ankles by quite three inches. He wore an enormous stick-up collar reaching almost to the level of his eyes; his head was graced by an old white beaver hat of the pattern worn by the postboys at that period, and the nap looked as though it had never been brushed the right way since it had been worked up into a hat. On his feet he wore white cotton stockings or socks and low-cut slippers; he carried both hands in his trousers pockets, and his left cheek was distended by a huge plug of tobacco, upon which he was chewing vigorously when I scrambled in over the rail and leaped down on the deck. As I did so I raised my hat and courteously bade him good-morning.
Instead of returning my greeting, he ejected a copious stream of tobacco-juice in my direction so dexterously that I had some difficulty in avoiding it, and then remarked—
“Waal, my noble Britisher, what the tarnation mischief do yew mean by firin’ them brass popguns of yourn at me, eh? What right have yew to shoot at a ship flyin’ the galorious Stars and Stripes? D’ye see them handsome barkers of mine?”—pointing to a fine display of eighteen-pounders, six of a side, mounted in the ship’s main-deck battery. “Waal, I was in more’n half a mind to give ye a dose from them in answer to your shot; and yew may thank my mate here, Mr Silas Jenkins, for persuadin’ me outer the notion! And what d’ye want, anyway, now that yew’re here, and be hanged to ye?”
“I have taken the liberty to board your ship for the purpose of getting a sight of your papers,” I answered. “Our information is that there are two sister ships—this vessel, and a Spanish craft named the Preciosa which are doing a roaring trade in carrying slaves across the Atlantic; and it is part of my duty to lay hands on the Preciosa if I can. Your vessel answers to her description in every particular save that of name and the flag she flies; and therefore, having fallen in with you, I felt that I should not be doing my duty unless I boarded you and inspected your papers.”
“Waal, I’ll be jiggered!” exclaimed the skipper, turning to his mate. “Hear that, Silas? I’ll bet yew ten dollars the critter calls hisself a sailor, and yet he can’t tell the difference between the Virginia and the Preciosa without lookin’ at their papers! I’ll tell ye, stranger, where the difference is between them two vessels. One on ’em has V-i-r-g-i-n-i-a, N-e-w O-r-l-e-a-n-s cut—cut, mind you—and painted on her starn, and she flies that galorious flag that’s floatin’ up thar,” pointing to the American ensign fluttering from the gaff-end—“while t’other has the words P-r-e-c-i-o-s-a, H-a-v-a-n-a cut and painted on hern, and she flies a yaller flag with two red bars. I know, because I’ve seen her—ay, most as often as I’ve seen the ’Ginia! Now, sonny, d’ye think ye’ll be able to remember that little lesson in sailormanship that a free-born American citizen has been obliged to give ye?”