Home › Richard Carvel › Richard Carvel: Comyn

Richard Carvel: Comyn

About this time Dorothy's wish was fulfilled and she went to London. Soon Lord Comyn arrived at Annapolis with news that every macaroni in London, including himself, was in love with her and that the Duke of Chartersea, a great rake, appeared to lead the race. There was sadness in the pride this gave me; nevertheless, I was drawn to Lord Comyn, who was a true man. My grandfather falling seriously ill, my uncle effected a reconciliation. Soon I realized that Grafton was plotting to cheat me of my birthright and make himself heir to Carvel Hall.

Even murder was tried. One night I was drawn into a duel with Lord Comyn on a pretext. Comyn, as loath to fight as I, wounded me, but the fight only made us closer friends. Soon after Comyn had sailed for England a second attempt to kill me changed the course of my life. I was kidnapped by pirates, and only that I had the makings of a fighting sailor I should have been slain. From the pirate I was rescued by a British brigantine, captained by one John Paul, who, for the discipline he maintained, might have been a naval commander. He recognized me as a gentleman and told me how he was returning to Scotland to say good-by to his mother, for, he said, Scotland had not treated him well. After that he proposed to go to London. I jumped at this, for was not Dorothy there? So, Paul's sad errand done, to London we went, choosing always the best coaching inns, Paul being for playing the gentleman. At London we put on a bold front and went to the Star and Garter in Pall Mall. I at once set out to find Mr. Manners, and caught him at his door, but he feigned not to see me, whereupon Mr. Dix, my grandfather's agent, declared I was an impostor and had us both thrown into jail.

After three weeks rescue came from an unexpected quarter--from Jack Comyn, who brought Dorothy to meet us at the prison gates. I was overwhelmed. Dorothy greeted me so warmly that I almost believed Comyn and Patty to have been right when they vowed that Dolly loved only me. Paul declared he was "an American, the compatriot of the beautiful Miss Manners."

I was minded to go back to America at once and reward Paul, but Comyn would not hear to this, declaring that I alone could save Dolly from Chartersea. I knew that Comyn, in telling Dorothy that I loved her, had sacrificed himself. When I met Mr. Manners he declared that he had not seen me on the former occasion, but I knew he lied. As for Paul, when he saw how the land lay, he gave us the slip and sailed for America as captain of the Betsy bark. In the betting books of White's and Brooks' is the record of much of my life in London, for I traveled in fast company. My friendship with Charles James Fox is a story in itself. He admired highly my defense of the Colonies, although he did not then openly espouse our cause. Fox warned me that Chartersea was plotting against me, and proof came when the duke wagered that I could not ride Baltimore's horse Pollux, for Pollux was a man-killer. Nevertheless, I rode the beast, and when Chartersea tried to follow me Pollux threw him into the Serpentine. Thus foiled, Chartersea waylaid me at Vauxhall, and I knew that Manners had helped to trap me. Comyn came to my rescue and was wounded, but I was unhurt.

Manners showed his hand when he brought me news that my grandfather was dead and Grafton was master of Carvel Hall. I struck him. Mr. Dix was quick to tell me that I was penniless, but Comyn insisted on offering his security for me. Then back I went to Annapolis, to learn that my uncle had intercepted my letters so that my grandfather had believed me dead. Henry Swain had been successful in business and he made me factor of his new estate. There I stayed until the dreary summer of 1774, when liberty lost a friend by the death of Mr. Swain. His last wish was that I should marry Patty, but when I asked her to marry me she saw what was in my heart and asked me whether I loved her. And for that there was no answer. But when I rode away to fight for my country she told me she would pray for me--and for Dorothy.

At Annapolis, on my way north, I received a great surprise. Learning that one Jones had spoken of me, I went to see him and found that it was John Paul himself, who had an estate in Virginia and was bound for Philadelphia to lay before Congress his plan for an American navy. How he succeeded is known. I sailed with him and was with him in many of his great sea-fights, the last being that of his Bon Homme Richard against the Serapis, in the North Sea. This was the hottest battle of all, and my last memory of it is the sight of a naked seaman rushing at me, pike in hand.