I watched as Andrei sputtered out every intricacy of my mission to the good Mister Glass, and noticed that the corners of his lips seemed to rise with every detail that Andrei gave out. The mentions of ships and the Russian navy elicited interested nods. Rebecca Glass too seemed very intrigued. Her gaze lay upon her husband, observing his expression rather than listening to the language that both she and I could barely understand.
“Monsieur,” Andrei said to me, “it seems that we have found a willing partner in the task that Her Majesty has put to you.”
“Go on,” I said, thrumming my fingers on the table as I gave Glass an agreeing nod.
“Monsieur Glass is in fact Captain Glass of the good ship… er... hay-sar?"
"Chaeſar. She's Iriſh timbered, ſir, as am I. My ſturdy Veſsel and her four Guns are fit to ſerve both our Purpoſes."
“He said that…”
“I believe I understood him well enough, Andrei. Thank you.”
Glass spoke again to Andrei in French, but quite slowly, choosing his words with great care.
“What do you think of slavery?” he said through Andrei.
I furrowed my brow and looked him in the eye as if to say “beg pardon?”
“Your answer will determine whether or not I should accept you on board my ship, sir. I realize it is a simply worded question, but it is not a simple question to answer for many, especially in these times when you have liberal-minded abolitionists set against those who believe that slavery is but a ‘necessary evil’ that is and always has been a tool of civilization. So, what say you on this issue, sir?”
I could not judge by this man’s description of the subject if he were an abolitionist or a slaver himself. I supposed that if I told the truth of my opinion, I would not be any worse off for it, since if he were indeed a slaver and refused me passage on board his ship, then I could simply choose another of the myriad of captains and ships at Hamburg.
“Slavery is a sin against God, Captain Glass. As men we were created free and beholden to no power save the ones that we permit to protect and serve us. If a man is taken from his home as an animal and is forced by threat of death to serve the whims of another, then that man is deprived of his humanity, and that I cannot abide, since I myself once lived as a slave under the yoke of the detestable heathens called the Tatars, and…”
I felt Andrei’s hand clutch my wrist. My own hand had balled up into a fist and I could feel the hot blood flowing from my heart to my head. I took a drink to clear my head while Andrei translated. As he went on, Captain Glass nodded in understanding.
“Aye, we’re of a like mind, then.”
As the captain and I shook hands, I felt that this was no ordinary arrangement for passage. The way he looked at me was not the way one looked at just another passenger. The man was surely up to something, for he had the look of a card player that was certain he would play a winning hand.
Glass refused to speak of further serious matters until after we had a few drinks, and soon after that we let the noise of the tavern give way to the squawking of the ocean birds and the distant working songs of dock workers as we made our way to the harbor, where Captain Glass had his ship waiting. A part of me was glad that we were finally about to embark on our mission, but a smaller part of me was anxious about the danger that lay ahead, for Captain Glass had still not relayed his plan to me.
I had not stopped to appreciate it before, but the many porters that hauled barrels and the haggling of traders with customs men made this place so different from the peaceful beaches of the Crimea, where one could be alone with only the smell of the ocean and the warm rays of the sun. Here I felt that the people of the city were connected to the sea, and the sea gave back to them, whereas in Crimea, there were many versts of shoreline that were devoid of commercial activity, since those salty waters were a point of contention between the czarina and the sultan.
This place was not without its charm, though. The high, white sails on distant ships appeared as clouds against the great blue sky, and many ships at port towered over buildings with their tall masts, as if to remind the land-rats in the taverns and shops on the shore that all the city’s life blood of commerce relied on those ships.
“That is her,” said Glass in English, pointing at a behemoth whose masts towered over two merchant vessels next to it in the harbor. “Me Pride and Joy, the Chaeſar.”
The ship was fully rigged, with three tall masts and nine sails that were yet furled. She rose high in the water as if she had nothing in her at all. She was by no means a perfect vessel, in that she seemed to be listing to her left-board side. The wood, too, was in a deplorable state.
Glass then spoke in French to Andrei, who related the captain’s pride to me.
"I acquired her from the Dutch. She used to be called the Duyfkin, what a ghastly name. Thank heavens I rechristened her as 'the Chaesar.' I say that's very fitting for a slave ship."
"Slave ship?" I said. "I was under the impression that you were taking me on since I detest slavery." Turning to Andrei, I said in a low voice, "If this is a trap, I will not be taken alive. I will never be a slave again! Do not translate that."
Glass laughed. "Your apprehension is justified, sir. But if you do not trust me, I ask you to trust your own eyes. See how much of her hull rises above the water? If my cargo were slaves, then surely, they are not here, and how foolish and evil I would be to kidnap an armed man who defended my wife's honor." Then, much to the surprise of Rebecca, he removed his sword belt and handed it to Andrei. "As a token of my trust, I will allow…" Andrei stopped. His brow furrowed in surprise.
"Monsieur, the good captain wants me to rip his throat open if I feel that he is lying to you. Surely you do not expect…"
"I expect you to do precisely that," I said. "You are the only one who can understand us both, and thus you will know when he is being deceitful. Tell him that he has my trust. For the time being. Return his sword, and tell him I appreciate the gesture."
The further we approached the vessel, the more aware I became of its size. The bowsprit alone was the length of four men, and I reckoned the deck could hold as many as five or six of my old chaiki.
“Ahoy there, Miſter Donahue!” Glass shouted. Neither I nor Andrei had ever heard the word ‘ahoy’ before, but we simply assumed it was some sort of salutation.
From above decks, a man waved back at Glass and repeated his greeting, after which a gangplank was lowered for us to board the vessel. As I stepped on, I felt that I could not turn back even if I had wished for it. Something in my heart stirred — it was not fear. It was something akin to what I felt when I left the mines for the first time. A feeling of freedom that came with the uncertainty of the unknown that lay ahead. I could not believe I was actually obeying the whims of the czarina, whom I assumed by this time was dining on tea and cakes, without the faintest thought to my endeavor. It did not matter. I had to remind myself why I was here: I needed a ship and its long-range guns to rain death upon the animals that slaughtered my brothers, and this mission was the only way to get it.
We ascended onto the deck of the ship, and I looked up at the masts in awe. I had never before seen such a complicated rigging system. Men climbed up and down the ropes like spiders while some perched like birds on the cross beams that held up the sails, all yelling in English to each other in very particular words that only Captain Glass could understand. As he shouted his orders to his men to get the vessel ready to sail, Rebecca bade us to follow her.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
As she walked through the deck, men in the midst of their duties stopped momentarily just to bow to her as though she were some kind of queen. She returned their courtesies with a smile and led us below decks. She spoke to us in her strange dialect as we walked, but Andrei had his brow furrowed in consternation, unable to translate a word she said, even though he was sure that it was in some form of English. Rebecca pretended not to notice, but she could not help but chuckle at the way Andrei’s face contorted as he tried to unriddle her speech.
The light of the sun faded in the depths of the ship’s belly, and the only illumination came from the few beams of sunlight that penetrated the crisscross gratings above us. Here, two dozen hammocks affixed to beams swung free.
“Dis be de crew’s Quarters,” she said. “When yuh be feelin’ dropsy, take your Rest down here. Just find yuh a Hamaca anywhere and lie straight down.”
I understood “rest,” but the words that followed were all garbled nonsense.
“I’d tank yuh to join de Bossman and me once we be under Sail.”
That I did not understand at all. Andrei and I simply stared at her wincing like dumb children.
She sighed. “Joindre. Mwa. Up top, kond boojie. Onstan?”
Andrei puckered his lips, trying his hardest to decipher the linguistic enigma that had been laid before him.
She smirked and gave a hearty chuckle, shaking her head as she walked back up top, leaving me alone with Andrei in the creaking bowels of the ship.
“Monsieur, I believe the lady wanted us to join her when they begin to move?”
“It seems likely. We have not yet been told where we are going or what sort of work we are expected to do. All I know is that the only reason we are here is because I hate slavery as much as the Englishman does.”
“Monsieur, I believe he said he was Irish.”
“But yet he speaks their language, so that makes him an Englishman to me. At any rate, once we are underway, find some way to get me some pen and paper. I shall write back to Her Nobility as soon as I can find something to write about.”
“And what about me?”
“Do you have concerns, Andrei Vasilyevich?”
“Forgive my impropriety, monsieur, but I see myself less as a companion and more as a dictionary. I have been doing nothing but translating for you since the moment we embarked on this mission.”
I chuckled, “Are you always this forward with everyone you serve? I can see why Her Highness delegated your service to me.”
“On the contrary, monsieur. In the service of a nobles of the court I am as I should be: quiet, unseen, and subservient. But with you, well… I should not say. But I digress, I would like to engage myself in some other service other than just being your interpreter. I have many talents, and I would like to make myself more useful — can be of any importance at all?”
I put my hand to my chin as if I was considering his proposal, but in truth I knew that this man was much too soft for this type of life.
“Can you fight?”
“No.”
“Can you sail?”
“No.”
I chuckled and said, “Then why should I entrust you to do anything that I am perfectly capable of doing myself?”
Andrei pursed his lips and exhaled. “Monsieur, when I was in the service of the court in Russia, my duties included waiting on guests, serving them dinner, and occasionally acting as a liaison between the attendants of Her Majesty and those of her foreign friends at court. I wish to be… something more than just someone’s footstool.”
“Ah, there you go again, speaking not as a servant but as a very petulant free man. I imagined a servant to be quiet, humble, and as you put it, subservient.”
“I did not want to say this before, monsieur, but I feel that you are the first person I can speak freely to.”
“And why is that?”
“No offense to you, but you are neither highborn nor well-connected. There is nothing that separates you from me. We both stand on equal ground.”
“And you think this offends me?” I scoffed. “Andrei Vasilyevich, I believe all men are on equal ground. What makes a noble a noble? A fancy set of clothes or an expensive wig? Look at me! I wear these things and yet I am no noble.” I put my hand on his shoulder like a friend and said to him, “You and I, we are not servant and master. We are partners, and we will work together for the sake of Her Majesty.”
“Did you not just say that you believe all men are equal?”
“Indeed, I said all men are on equal ground, but the czarina is a woman!”
“That hardly makes any sense at all…”
I chuckled softly and said, “I am allowed a small jape, Andrei. While I do not believe in the czarina’s authority, I do believe that she is surrounded by thousands of sheep that see her as a divinely gifted mother. It is those sheep who give her power, and likewise, I will benefit through the commands she gives them.”
Just then, the floor began to creak and sway, and I could hear the rumbling of the ocean waves outside.
“Off we go, Andrei Vasilyevich,” I said with a grin. “We have much to do.”
“But you have not even addressed my concern!”
“We have much to do!” I repeated.
With a groan of protest, Andrei followed me above deck. Bright sunlight flooded my vision as I opened the hatch to the world above. I was greeted by a spray of water and a strong wind in my face that threatened to remove my hat and wig. The sensation was familiar and refreshing, like sailing with my brothers on the banks of the Dnieper; except on this voyage, the vessel was enormous, there were multiple masts, the rigging was a confusing riddle of ropes, and there were no oars. Mercifully, there were also no Tatars. I looked out into the distance to see the town of Hamburg shrinking into the horizon, while another stretch of coastline lay far ahead of us. We seemed to be sailing in the midst of a grand canal. At the same time, other great ships with sails more numerous and much taller than our own sailed past us in both directions. It seemed we were on a highway of some sort bound for the open ocean.
“Miſter Rooſhian, ſir!”
Captain Glass greeted us with a friendly grin and hearty handshakes. At his side stood his wife Rebecca, who had now changed clothes from her dress and shawl into a frock coat and breeches. Andrei was ready as ever to translate once more.
“I felt that I should relay my intent of this mission to you two separately from the men, since I doubt they would be keen to translate to you,” said Captain Glass through Andrei. “I assume your position on slavery and its evils has not changed since we departed from Hamburg?”
“No, it has not, sir,” I replied. “I was once a slave myself, and I know how evil of a thing slavery can be.”
“I had no idea they had slaves in Russia. Well, here I stand before you, together with my wife and my crew, to right those injustices. We lay for Cape Coast, at the dark heart of Europe’s slave trade, to set free as many captives as we can.”
A half-smile crept up my lip, but my brow furrowed in disbelief. Glass noticed my apprehension.
“Is something the matter? I thought a former slave above all people would be more receptive to this plan.”
I believed that it was a noble goal, truly I did. However, it did not seem at all practical. Despite the large boat and the sizeable crew, Glass did not strike me as a wealthy man, and the only legal way to free a slave that I knew of was through purchase and manumission. It was all highly suspicious.
“Do you intend to buy their freedoms?”
Glass chuckled, “Ah, now I understand your apprehension. Fear not, I hold in my possession a circular letter of credit from the Bank of England good for the purchase of several hundred slaves, hence the need for an empty hold. There they will hide, unchained and unmolested, while we deliver them to safety. Those that wish to remain in Africa and risk a journey back to their homes in the interior, we will drop off a few miles down the coast; the rest who wish to live a life free of servitude and to be new men again in a place free of British rule, we take home to Trelawny Town.”
“Yes but, where will you get the supplies to feed them all for such a long journey? Also, what is Trelawny Town?”
“Do not distress yourself with matters of supply, Monsieur Kazansky. That is something that falls to the quartermaster and myself. As for Trelawny Town, it is a marvelous place. An escaped slave’s paradise where one is protected, fed, and sheltered, without fear of their overseers or the sting of the whip. In essence it is a town built by ex-slaves who want to be their own masters.”
“And its location is a secret I presume?”
“Not at all. It is deep within the mountain wilderness of Jamaica, in a place so inhospitable no sane British governor would risk the trek. It is said to be protected by the jungle spirits themselves, and the former slaves that call it home, of course.”
“I would very much like to visit one day.”
“Perhaps you shall, monsieur,” said Glass with a grin. “Do you think the Maroons would accept him as one of their own, Dear?”
Rebecca chuckled, “No dahlin, dis man be pompasettin too much, dem maroons ain’t gine take too kindly to no Rooshian in a frock coat.”
“Then again perhaps not. My wife believes that your present appearance would be very dangerous indeed in Trelawny Town. You look too much like you could be one of their former masters.”
“If I could only show them the scars on my back, then that would convince them.”
“That you were Royal Navy, yes.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Most men of the sea around those parts bear welts on their backs from the kiss of the cat o’ nine tails. A white man with scars on his back is always a sailor or soldier, and a black man with those same scars is always a slave. To be quite honest with you, no one can fathom the idea of a person of your race in chains. The slaves will not trust you. However, the British authorities where we’re going are of the same mind. If I have two foreigners dressed to the nines as you are, then there will be less suspicions about my true intentions. This is especially important for our mission, since it would require us to interact with the slavers at Cape Coast prior to our scheme of liberation.”
“I am beginning to see why you recruited me.”
“Indeed. Have you any objections to what we are about to commit ourselves to?”
“None whatsoever, captain.”