This intelligence would have induced me, if possible, to decline the banquet.  It was, however, impossible, and following the advice of the Marshal de Saxe, we determined, as the wine was uncorked, to drink it.

I had some anxiety, but being satisfied that my constitution was young, healthy and sound, I could easily get the better of the West Indian, who probably was unused to liquors.

I however, went to see Messrs. Fehr and Massue, and in an occular allocution, told them of my plans.  I advised them to drink as little as possible, and to avoid too many glasses, while I talked to our antagonists.  Above all things, I advised them to keep up some appetite, telling them that food had the effect of moderating the fumes of wine.

Thus physically and morally armed, we went to the old bank coffee house, where we found our friends; dinner was soon ready.  It consisted of a huge piece of beef, a roasted turkey, (plain) boiled vegetables, a salad and pastry.

Wine was put on the table.  It was claret, very good, and cheaper than it then was in France.

Mr. Wilkinson did the honors perfectly, asking us to eat, and setting us an example, while his friend, who seemed busy with his plate, did nothing but laugh at the corners of his mouth.

My countrymen delighted me by their discretion.

After the claret came the port and Madeira.  To the latter we paid great attention.

Then came the dessert composed of butter, cheese and hickory nuts.  Then came the time for toasts, and we drank to our kings, to human liberty, and to Wilkinson’s daughter Maria, who was, as he said, the prettiest woman in Jamaica.

Then came spirits, viz., rum, brandy, etc.  Then came songs, and I saw things were getting warm.  I was afraid of brandy and asked for punch.  Little brought a bowl, which, doubtless, he had prepared before.  It held enough for forty people, and was larger than any we have in France.

This gave me courage; I ate five or six well buttered rolls, and I felt my strength revive.  I looked around the table and saw my compatriots apparently fresh enough, while the Jamaican began to grow red in the face, and seemed uneasy.  His friend said nothing, but seemed so overcome that I saw the catastrophe would soon happen.

I cannot well express the amazement caused by this denouement, and from the burden of which I felt myself relieved.  I rang the bell; Little came up; I said, “see these gentlemen well taken care of.”  We drank a glass to their health.  At last the waiter came and bore off the defeated party feet foremost.  Wilkinson’s friend was motionless, and our host would insist on singing, “Rule Britannia.” [Footnote:  The translator is sorry to say, that at the time Savarin speaks of, “Rule Britannia” was not written.]

The New York papers told the story the next day, and added that the Englishman had died.  This was not so, for Mr. Wilkinson had only a slight attack of the gout.