He answered me with a “Umph!” which afforded me no clue whatever to his opinion of my outspoken reply; and, my business with him being at an end, I took my leave.
“Have you any engagement for to-night?” he asked, extending his hand very cordially. And upon my answering that I had not, he said: “Then come and dine with me; seven sharp. I want to see a little more of you.”
Of course I gladly accepted so flattering an invitation, and then hurried away to appoint an agent and return to the schooner.
I was anxious to get to sea again as quickly as possible, for I looked upon the loss of the Manilla as so much leeway, and a very serious amount too, that could not be too speedily made up. But I foresaw that my chief difficulty in so doing would arise from my lack of a crew, and how to scrape together a decent complement in a small town like Kingston I knew not, for I was fully aware that our men-o’-war kept the place pretty well swept of men. I was therefore greatly pleased when, having called upon the individual who had been recommended to me by the Admiral as an agent, he informed me, upon the conclusion of my business proper with him, that he knew a man who he believed would be willing, for a consideration, to find me as many good men as I might require. I at once asked for the address of this person, but was informed that it would be utterly useless for me, a total stranger, to call upon him, as he would most certainly decline to treat with me; but that if I felt disposed to leave the matter in his, the agent’s, hands, he would do his best for me. I thought I understood pretty well what this meant. The system of impressment had done more than anything else to render our navy unpopular, and men were constantly deserting whenever and wherever they found a chance. And when they had once succeeded in making good their escape from the ship on board which they had been compelled to serve, their best chance of safety from recapture lay in getting to sea as quickly as possible, until which they were perforce obliged to lie in close hiding. This state of affairs soon produced a set of men known as “crimps”, who kept boarding-houses for the especial accommodation and concealment of seamen who either had deserted from their ships, or who, having been paid off, were anxious to find other employment without the risk of impressment while openly looking for it. These crimps were to be found in every British seaport, abroad as well as at home, and a very good thing they made of it, what with their exorbitant charges for board and lodging on the one hand, and, on the other, the premiums or head-money that they received from ship-masters for the supply of men. It was, of course, to their interest to be loyal to the men, and hence they hedged themselves and their houses about with so many safeguards against undesirable intrusion that it became a matter of almost impossibility to approach them except through certain channels. I suspected that my agent was in touch with one or more of these men, and although I thoroughly hated the system, which was nothing short of the most audacious robbery, both of the unfortunate men whom it professed to befriend, and of the ship-masters who were compelled to avail themselves of it, my prospects of procuring a crew by any other means were so remote that I unwillingly assented to my agent’s suggestion, stipulating only that I should see the men and have the option of refusing such as I deemed unsuitable. And with this understanding the agent undertook to do his best to find me at least forty thoroughly good men.
This important matter put in train, I hastened back on board the schooner, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing Renouf and his scoundrel crew passed over the side into the boats that were to convey them to the prison-hulk. I had the still greater satisfaction of learning, not very long afterwards, that Renouf, his brother, and half a dozen more of the party had been hanged as pirates upon the evidence of Dumaresq, myself, and the other survivors of the gig’s crew. This, however, is anticipating my story somewhat.
That same night I dined with the Admiral, and had the honour of meeting the Governor and some half-dozen more of the principal personages of the island. I was rather astonished, I must admit, at the perfect equanimity with which my portentous tidings had been received. The Admiral had, of course, had a busy day of it in preparing and sending off despatches to the other islands belonging to the crown, as well as in arranging for the defence of our possessions generally; but I soon found that there was an utter absence of apprehension on the score of an attack.
“No, no,” exclaimed the Admiral confidently. “Villeneuve has escaped from Toulon, it is true, but he will be like a canary that has slipped out of its cage, he will be so frightened at unexpectedly finding himself free that he will not dare to make the least use of his freedom; his greatest anxiety will be to escape the pursuers that he knows must be on his track. For, d’ye see, Nelson will become aware of his escape in less than twelve hours, and will be after him forthwith. The only wonder to me is that he has not overtaken him and brought him to action before now. I would give a good deal for the power to let Nelson know the whereabouts of this fleet; but I haven’t another ship at my disposal. By the way, Mr Bowen, what are you going to do next?”
“I shall proceed to sea again without a moment’s unnecessary delay, sir,” I answered. “All I want is a crew.”
“All you want!” echoed the Admiral. “By George, sir, I don’t know where you will find a crew in Jamaica. I believe every available man has already been hunted out and appropriated by our men-o’-war. Have you no men at all?”
“Four only; and I am not yet by any means certain that they will consent to ship with me. I have no authority whatever over them. They formed part of the crew of the Manilla.”