Eleanor's freedom and mind on board expands and she tries to make herself useful to some of the people that are on the voyage, each with their own mission. Rogers' personal library becomes a source of an intellectual friendship, until the fleet arrives at Bermuda, where Rogers awaits an assistant of his to join their fleet and bring some long awaited news.
Chapter 6 - The Friend
The fleet had turned south west, catching the trade winds that propelled them to Bermuda. Eleanor was a permanent guest at Woodes Rogers' table, while the assembly of other guests varied between officers, scientists, captains or representatives of the settlers. She found the dinners with the scientists the most entertaining. Especially the elder Mr. Lardener enjoyed her addition. He was a rotund gentleman with a penchant for wine and his bag wig seemed always slightly in disarray. When Eleanor mentioned the fruits and flowers that grew on the island and what type of vegetables, native or imported, were farmed by settlers, Mr. Lardener would often claim all of her attention to describe it all, when and how they flowered. He invited her to his quarter by day to show her his preliminary sketches based on her words and ask her to suggest the necessary corrections. Mr. Tortleby wanted her to do the same for him with regards the native fauna of New Providence. Before long, her days were filled in assisting Mr. Lardener with his drawings, Mr. Tortleby by describing the lizards and birds that were so common to her, and penning down Mr. Forris's measured angles of Venus or Mercury in comparison to the sun, sharing with her a closer sight of the moon's face, or the planets he pointed out for her.
Commodore Chamberlain though was hardly cordial. He did not greet her, never addressed her, not even to ask her to pass the peas. If the majority of the men at the table were officers of his then the atmosphere would be at an all time low. Not that they were unkind to her. No, they would dab their mouths embarrassed with their napkin or send a quick, apologetic smile her way, but dared not, could not go against the example that their superior set. One such late afternoon, the conversation had been so stifled except for Chamberlain dominating it that the governor at the head of the table looked displeased and fidgeted with his napkin. He grew angrier with every passing minute and every other snide remark. The commodore though seemed completely unaware of the alteration in Rogers' mood. The dinner ended abruptly with everybody, including Eleanor, leaving the table in relief. But Rogers requested Chamberlain to remain as he wanted to discuss a matter of strategy and business. Afterwards, Chamberlain often sat at the table aboard other ships and when he was part of the dinner on the Delicia, the governor either made sure that the mix of people was diverse or have Eleanor seated near to converse with her.
Rogers had lent her other books. He owned a work on Aristotle, a translation of Homer's Odyssey, gathered plays by Shakespeare, Dryden's All For Love and Marmion, as well as philosophical and religious works such as The New Atlantis of Sir Francis Bacon, and more scientific minded journals of fellow explorers, including Dampier's. Eleanor always had the capacity to appreciate intellectual progress and challenges. She simply had never known anybody to introduce it to her, nor had the time to seek it out. But once the door to the exploration of the mind was opened, Eleanor discovered she had a profound appetite for it, as if she had been starving all of her life. She divulged whichever she could pick up, although admittedly Isaac Newton's book on the physical world was too much for her. Mr. Forris tried to explain the proofs to her, but it only gave her headaches and she simply asked him to explain to her in general terms what laws Newton was going on about. And she was content with the basic math she knew - adding, subtracting, dividing and multiplying.
Mrs. Hudson also turned out to be an avid reader, though their tastes differed greatly. They could barely agree on which of Shakespeare's plays they liked. Mrs. Hudson was a fan of the dramas, like Hamlet, Richard III or Julius Caesar, which Eleanor found to be over indulgent pompous characters. Eleanor enjoyed the romantic comedies or the vengeful Titus Andronicus, Macbeth and Othello. They could only agree that they both liked the Tempest. And if Mrs. Hudson read The Pilgrim's Progress by Bunyan then Eleanor preferred Milton's Paradise Lost. Discussing the actual content would almost certainly provoke some comment on how Eleanor could read such gross literature, what with people serving someone's child for dinner. No, Eleanor could only truly discuss books with Rogers himself and a type of respectful, intellectual friendship developed over it in the course of weeks.
They reached Bermuda about five weeks after departing London and lay at anchor near sheltered St. George's Town of St. George's Island to replenish stock and fresh water. Eleanor was somewhat envious of Mr. Lardener and Mr. Tortleby who went inland to explore. Even Mrs. Hudson was often absent, on business for Rogers. Worse, Rogers was either entertaining an important family ashore or was otherwise engaged in overseeing the buying of stock. The latter could not be helped, but she thoroughly wished all those families inviting him to luncheons and dinners to come down with some flue, especially the daughters with their parasols who brazenly flirted with him, though he was a married man. Even from aboard the Delicia in the bay she could discern how they cooed and flattered him whenever he strolled along the harbor quay. Meanwhile, Eleanor was basically marooned on the Delicia. She had all the freedom to roam the ship wherever and whenever she pleased, but was not allowed to leave it. For the first time since a long while, she felt like a prisoner again. And all she had to occupy herself with was the latest book she had lent from Rogers' library, to which he had given her free, unlimited access.
Finally, after four days, the cook informed her there was to be a dinner aboard the ship. Her frustration melted like snow in the sun. Everything will go back as it should be, to normal. Eleanor looked forward to discuss the passages she had found touching. Something of the narrative and ordeals that Psyche endured affected her on a deeper level. She identified strongly with the heroine, but had lacked any partner to exult about it. So, when she appeared on deck, freshly bathed and having taken great care of her attire and hair to welcome Rogers back, Eleanor's joy evaporated as soon as she saw him help a Bermuda merchant and his daughter aboard the ship. The gushing praise of the girl to him as they climbed on to the quarterdeck grated her ears.
"Oh, I'm so relieved that finally someone intends to deal with those awful pirates, Lord Governor Rogers. Seeing all those ships with you at the helm makes me believe the world will be a safer place again." The young woman had long, dark brown flowing hair and eyes like a doe. When she turned and met Eleanor's eyes gazing up at her from the mid deck, she said, "I know it will be a success, since you have at least captured one pirate." She turned away from Eleanor and threw Rogers one of her smiles. "The Guthrie woman. I see you even succeeded into making her appear womanly. I think it is the most vile thing – a woman letting herself in with murderers and thieves, wearing men's clothing."
With Rogers nodding obligingly, indulging both the father and his daughter and in his most formal wear - the dark-blue justaucorps that matched his eyes so well - he appeared a completely different person to Eleanor. Not once had he acknowledged her appearance so far. But at the mentioning of her, he said, "Ah, I see she is on deck." He leaned into the girl and said in a confiding tone. "Would you like to meet your first pirate, Miss Salinger?"
Right then, Eleanor had every intention of marching off the deck. I am not some trained monkey to gape at. But Rogers already called out to her, and she could not openly refuse an invitation onto the quarterdeck. So, instead she climbed the stairs gracefully and even curtsied, though her eyes were ablaze with anger. Rogers did not meet hers.
"Miss Salinger, may I introduce you to Miss Guthrie who has been very helpful to several scientists aboard my fleet. She is fascinated by the stars and planets and has shared a great wealth of information about the particular native fauna and flora of the Bahamas." And with that introduction, Eleanor felt somewhat redeemed. "Miss Guthrie, meet Miss Salinger, daughter of Mr. Salinger who is Bermuda's biggest ship merchant. She is very active in a parish committee with regards the health and safety of the inland wives, member of the church's choir and was educated in London."
Eleanor nodded to the father and the daughter. The father simply closed his eyes in recognition before turning away, while the daughter curtsied her with the utmost contempt. Eleanor feigned not to notice and smiled. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Salinger. I have a friend who was educated in London as well."
Rogers raised his eyebrows. "Well, aren't you full of surprises. Miss Guthrie is also an avid reader. Soon, I will run out of books I can lend her from my small library. What are you reading currently?"
"Marmion's Cupid and Psyche." And as soon as she said it, Eleanor realized it had been a mistake. It was a rather piquant legend, about desire, forbidden love and the consummation of it. She only needed to see Rogers fold his face into that of disinterest to know he was sorry to have ever asked in the present company. For fuck's sake, I found it in your library. But then she realized that was likely the thing he did not want Miss Salinger to know.
Miss Salinger blushed deeply and her young voice trembled. "Oh, I don't know whether I care so much for Marmion." She turned towards Rogers. "Father has given me The Tempest by Shakespeare. Did you know that the bard based it on the wreck of the Sea Venture here?" And then she continued to prattle on how its crew and passengers built the first permanent settlement on Bermuda.
Rogers excused Eleanor from the quarterdeck, and she was not invited to dine along with the Salingers. The Tempest, she thought angrily, as she kicked off her shoes when she was in her room. I'll bet that Mr. Salinger has no intention of giving his daughter Romeo and Juliet to read.
Miss Salinger reminded her of Abigail Ashe. They appeared off age, had similar physical features and delicate upbringing. But Eleanor decided she had liked Abigail far better than Miss Salinger. In her memory the girl had been full of innocence and sweetness. She had not even spoke ill of her captor Charles Vane. When Captain Hume told Eleanor how Charles Vane had burned Charlestown, Eleanor had been devestated. I saved Abigail for nothing, Eleanor thought at the time. I betrayed Charles for nothing. I sent assassins to murder Rackham and his crew for nothing. My father died for nothing.
But that had been the old Eleanor talking. The present one whispered something entirely different - You saved yourself when you saved Abigail. Her mind wandered back to that fateful moment where she made the deliberate choice to leave Charles with his crew at the other side of the gate, and lead the innocent girl to safety. I would do it again. I would lose it all over again to save her from certain death at Fort Nassau. Abigail lives, because of me.
Eleanor walked to her trunk where Mrs. Hudson had stuffed her mourning dress. She opened it, lifted out the dress and searched for the hidden pocket. Out came an envelope. One of the corners was crooked. Eleanor went to her table, took out the letter and stroked the paper flat to get the crease out. She had received the letter while awaiting her trial at Newgate.
Ashford, Savannah, Georgia
DEAR MISS GUTHRIE,
You may have learned of my father's and Charleston's fate. What happened on that fateful day was a series of heinous crimes. But my father had the foresight to send me to Mr. Ashford in Savannah, and so I survived. And as I sit here, contemplating your predicament as well as my own grief, I believe we are bound to one another by that one act in the Fort when you saved my life. You went into Fort Nassau where I was held captive and stole me from my captor, Captain Vane, who wished to ransom me. And even as he came upon us during our escape and threatened you, asked you to hand me over, back to him, you still went ahead and guided me through the tunnels to your home. We both lost our fathers because of it, when Captain Vane took their lives in vengeance. When I learned of you having been taken to London, a prisoner, I felt this is my chance to repay your kindness and hopefully I will succeed where I failed James McGraw and Lady Hamilton, after they brought me home to Charleston, what you believed at the time back to safety. I will leave it to your discretion whether you use my testimony in this letter during your trial. I hope it does not arrive too late. God be with you.
I remain, dear miss, with gratitude, your well-wisher and friend,
ABIGAIL ASHE.
Eleanor had chosen not to use the letter. She failed to understand what Abigail alluded to when she claimed to have failed Flint. But Abigail's deliberate use of their names as they had been known in London now seemed to have been done on purpose. Mr. Ashford would not have known Abigail had meant Flint and Mrs. Barlow, while London knew the scandal about McGraw and Lady Hamilton. Eleanor tucked the letter safely away, back in the trunk. It still might be of use. Perhaps she could show it to Flint when the Governor arrived in Nassau, ask him what Abigail meant, as well as appeal to his humanity that seemed to be lost as she overheard the tales about some of Flint's latest crimes brought back aboard the ship from Bermuda.
Eleanor was determined to remain in her cabin all night. But when she heard noise of a launch being taken down, she could not resist the temptation. Rogers stared at the launch that returned the Salingers to St. George's Town, until it was barely visible in the darkness of the night. When Rogers noticed Eleanor, he joined her soon with a smile. She eyed him wearily though.
Rogers smile faltered. "You are offended."
"No," she said. "But I trusted you enough not to parade me about to be abused by such a simpleton."
He frowned. "You are in my service, Miss Guthrie," he reprimanded her. "And if it is necessary I will flaunt you as the Queen of Thieves. The Salingers gave me a good price for the restocking for the last leg of our voyage and are an important contact for trade and guns when Nassau's piracy is ended. If that means I must wine and dine them and have a girl of seventeen simper over my fame, instead of discussing Marmion with you, then I will do exactly that. If that means I can satisfy their curiosity in how the Queen of Thieves became a lady, then you will do exactly that." Stiffly, Eleanor pressed her lips together in stubborn remonstration. Rogers lifted his chin at her. "Can I count on you to perform this role when I require it?"
She bowed her head slowly. "Yes," she whispered. "But you can't expect me to like it," she added testily.
He sighed and for the first time he appeared tired. "Let us not quarrel over this, Miss Guthrie. The past four days were taxing enough. I'm glad everything can return to normal soon and we can set sail again."
Eleanor regretted her childish behavior instantly. She had lamented her lack of freedom, thinking of herself only, never considering that perhaps he found all the gushing and simpering strenuous. And then she was mollified, realizing the compliments and preferences hidden in his stern speech. Far more genuinely, she said, "I will do what you deem necessary without complaint."
"Good," he said gently. "We will set sail for Nassau the day after tomorrow, after someone in my service joins our fleet." He nodded at her, turned and started to walk away.
"Sir?"
Rogers looked at her over his shoulder. "What, Miss Guthrie?"
She took a step closer. "I am sorry if I embarrassed you in front of Miss Salinger by mentioning Marmion's book. I-I was not really thinking."
He sighed. "You have a habit of acting or speaking before thinking. But I will tell you now what I told Miss Salinger earlier this evening – I have not yet read it myself. It was a parting gift of a good friend of mine, the evening before we set sail. Good night, Miss Guthrie."
The next day was mostly occupied with launches going to and fro as well as the Willing Mind being replenished with the last of the extra stock. Mrs. Hudson arrived back from town with dresses in pastel green cotton, dark red with embroidered roses and the finest woven blue silk that Eleanor had ever seen. A whole wardrobe had been commissioned and made for Eleanor at Bermuda. And when finally dinner time came around, everything did seem to have returned to normal. Mr. Lardener told her all about the plants he had picked and intended to dry, while Mr. Tortleby spoke about the several species of turtles he had studied. When Rogers reminded his guests that they would be leaving early the next day at the dawn of light, each left the table for a good's night rest.
"Can you remain for a short while, Miss Guthrie," he said, when she rose from her chair. He smiled politely and waited until the last person, Chamberlain, had left. "Miss Guthrie, sometimes people sabotage us, betray us and ill befalls us. And yet the experience teaches us something of great value that we might have been without if not for them, wouldn't you agree?"
"I suppose."
"Wouldn't you say now that for example your capture at the time it happened saved you from a far darker path you had started to travel?"
She blushed with shame for an instant at the reminder of her intent to assassinate a crew. "Yes."
"If you were able to choose between where you are now, because of your capture, and where you might have been otherwise, which one would you prefer?"
"Here." That she preferred her present situation over the other, Eleanor did not need to doubt, even if she had reasons that were unknown to Rogers. A war against Charles and Max all by herself or experiencing the highest and purest forms of civilization, even within the limited confounds of a ship on an ocean, and in the company of a cultured man as attractive she found Rogers to be, honored by his intellectual friendship – there was no choice there.
Rogers smiled at her. "You may be curious why I ask these questions?"
In fact, Eleanor had become so used at their conversations going in all sorts of philosophical directions, where either of them would blurt out what had been fermenting in their mind regardless of the subject prior to it, that she had not given his purpose much thought at all. "Well, if you put it like that, I am intrigued by it now if I was not so before."
"I desire your presence on the quarterdeck when my associate arrives. It is someone with whom you share some history. I simply wish for you to recall my philosophical point when you meet again."
Eleanor frowned, mystified who it could be. Perhaps it's Captain Hume. She disliked the man, but she held no grudge against him, no more than she did Chamberlain. "Should I fear this encounter?"
"By no means. Although I imagine your presence might disturb him and he would dread a confrontation more than you would."
"Who?"
"No, Miss Guthrie. You shall indulge me in this small and rare pleasure as a man in having a woman suffer from her greatest vice – burning with desire to know - and denying her the means to satisfy her curiosity. You will know soon enough."
"You play a cruel game, sir."
"Perhaps." He got up and walked to his desk, picked up a wrapped package and laid it on the dinner table before her. "I also had someone buy this for you today. Perhaps you should start your own personal library, and regard this as my contribution to it." Eleanor unwrapped the paper. In a lower voice, Rogers whispered. "If you hadn't read it yet. This one also starts with a shipwreck, but has the heroine dressed in male attire and she is absolutely charming."
As the paper came off, Eleanor read the title – The Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare.
Rogers gestured his arm toward the door, "Shall we?"
She followed him out onto the deck in company of Mrs. Hudson and rose the stairs of the quarterdeck, clutching the book tightly, neatly wrapped in its paper again. The full moon lit the harbor. The few clouds in the air against the stars were like those Eleanor was most familiar with – fluffy. And even at night the air was damp and warm, just the way she liked it. It reminded her how close she was to home, which prompted her to consider that she would also stand face to face with Charles, Max, Rackham and Flint soon. Except for Flint all three had wanted her gone or dead. She hoped she had not made a mistake by not giving the other names to Rogers as unpardonable. Eleanor was taken out of her reverie when she heard the dipping of coming oars.
Rogers stationed himself on the main deck to welcome whoever was arriving by launch, and Chamberlain joined him, leaving his position on the quarterdeck. Even though sound carried well by night on a ship, Eleanor could not overhear what the commodore was saying to Rogers. But she saw Rogers glance at him sideways in a manner that showed a great dislike. The bell rung and two men came aboard backboard. And she would have recognized that grey, old beard anywhere.
"Captain Hornigold! Welcome aboard." Rogers left the commodore standing by himself and approached his new guests. "Mr. Dufresne."
That old sly fox! Hornigold had not just given her up to Captain Hume for pardons and then slithered away, but he was in active service of Rogers. This was a meeting she had not envisioned at all. Eleanor knew she ought to feel resentful of Hornigold. She had never liked him much personally, and he was a hypocrite in her mind, berating her about not having the greater good in mind once, but only when it suited him. He could be as petty as the worst of them. And yet, she respected how he had managed to survive a great deal of circumstances. She was however, not intent on showing it. Hornigold would never even believe it if she were to tell him that she held no grudge against him.
"I have news to relay, sir," said Captain Hornigold to Rogers. "But first, I'm sorry, I must address a rumor I've heard since my arrival here, a rumor most troubling about a fugitive that you've made a part of your endeavor." Hornigold leaned sideways to look about the ship and settled his gaze on Eleanor, while Rogers stepped aside and turned to look at her as well. She turned and gave Hornigold a full view on her. Hornigold's expression faltered and he turned white as a sheet. "Jesus!" Hornigold said aghast, frowning at Rogers as if he were a madman.
Rogers faced Hornigold and lifted his chin. "I would introduce you, but, uh, from what I understand, you're quite familiar with one another."
"Respectfully, that woman is not to be trusted."
"I know, but perhaps I don't need to trust her. And, by way of context, I don't much trust you either. Let's assume you'll each be a check on the other, and I'll count myself fortunate. What news, Captain?"
Hornigold nodded slightly and then smiled somewhat pleased with himself. "I engaged Captain Flint as promised. When he and his crew declined my offer of pardons, I pressed my advantage and drove him, already battered, into a tempest. When it subsided, I patrolled the area extensively and recovered several pieces of fresh debris."
"Debris? What kind of debris?" asked Rogers.
"The definitive kind," said Hornigold. Mr. Dufresne next to him threw down Flint's black flag onto the deck. "Captain Flint is dead."
Incredulous, Eleanor stared at the flag for a long time. Flint was the most skilled captain out there and extremely dangerous. Hornigold was cunning, but she could hardly believe Hornigold had bested Flint. And yet, there lay Flint's flag after he sailed in a ship-killer storm, in which the dark sky would have rained down on him like black pitch and the waves had risen so high they could have kissed the sky. She knew it to be good news for Rogers that Nassau's major pirate naval strategist was no more. But her heart was saddened that Flint drowned in roaring wild waters, when he wanted to exchange thousands furlong of sea for an acre of dry land - him and his brave men dashed to pieces, perished. Poor souls. And one of them Mr. Scott, she realized. What made Flint seek such a death?
What had Hornigold said? Something about pardons. Eleanor wished Flint would have taken them, had in fact hoped that Flint may ally with Rogers. Later, when lying on her bed, she wondered whether her words at the start of the journey about Flint to Rogers may have influenced the governor. But how he could have relayed it to Hornigold was beyond her comprehension. It seemed just as likely that Rogers had given Hornigold the power to offer pardons at will. And she was sure that Rogers would never tell her the truth of it. He did not trust her with strategic information. His trust in her did not extend beyond books.
Eleanor turned and looked into the darkness to where she knew her table was, where she had put the book Rogers had given her - shipwrecks and tempests. How apt. But in both of Shakespeare's plays survivors washed ashore and lived. If real life was a play by Shakespeare, then surely Hornigold had been fooled, and Flint had dragged himself onto a beach and ended up marooned. She imagined him seated, his arms in a sad knot, his head down as the air dried his drenched clothes, and others scattered about looking for each other. Billy had fallen in the water after the Walrus had attacked Bryson's ship. But he beat and breasted the swollen surges, rode upon the waves' backs, trod water that was his enemy. Somehow he had kept his head above and his strong arms oared himself ashore, where Captain Hume found him. And that poor sod Mr. Selkirk had survived for four years on an island all on his own. There are so many islands between the Bahamas and the American coast.
(The literary references of Eleanor's preference put revenge tales forward, contrasted by her meeting with Hornigold where she refrains from even fantasising about revenge on him. Overall, the book discussions and the book giving mirrors Flint-Barlow. Tempest, 12th Night and Cupid & Pyche are romance tales about 'islands', 'sea' with the third being darker in nature.
Tempest: Miss Sallinger mentions the historical link to the wreck that populated Bermuda. It is believed to have been Shakespeare's inspiration. The last two paragraphs allude to Tempest's Miranda grieving the wreck and the poor perished souls, Gonzalo's prayer for dry land instead of the sea and Ariel's description of lone Fernando on the beach of both scenes of act 1. Billy's swim description is the imagined survival description of Ferdinand, by courtiers of Alonso (Ferdinand's father thinkig his son drowned), act2, scene 1.
The Twelfth Night: possibly might have been referenced by the series too - It takes them 12 days to reach Nassau from Bermuda. When Rogers gives it to Eleanor he's implying "fuck Miss Salinger and her smarmy opinions about women wearing a man's clothes being vile" and it is a play about love. In the next chapter I allude to the play in the address-writing scene and Eleanor making Hornigold the messenger of Rogers' address.
Cupid and Psyche, Marmion: Psyche binds the Aurore and Venus references. Venus was angry over people regarding Psyche as a human Venus and sent Cupid with his arrows to make her fall in love with a poor and ugly man. But Cupid fell in love himself. In order to prevent his mother of finding out, he has an oracle tell Psyhe's father she will be the doom of his kingdom, and she must be wed/sacrificed to a sea monster. Hence Psyche is "wed" to the sea-monster at her own "funeral" ceremony and left at the rim of a cliff. Cupid has the zephyr wind take her to his magical island, where he visits her at night. Eleanor was 'stolen' the night of her father's funeral, still wears the mourning dress in her prison cell and when boarding the ship. Just like Psyche she believes she is to die and that the funeral she went to ended up being her own. But she is rescued instead and sails to an island, where she enters an affair that can't see the light of day. S3 also reveals her father was willing to sacrifice her, to save his own life.)