The Privateer's-Man, One hundred Years Ago

“Dear Alexander, if I had a thousand lives, I would sacrifice them for you.”

“We have but one,” replied I, “and that one I will devote for your defence; I can do no more.”

“Who did you fire at?” said she.

“The chief, as I believe, who was on the hill giving orders. He fell; and I think that he fell dead.”

“Then depend upon it they will retreat,” said she.

“I think not; they will be revenged, if they possibly can; and we must expect a hard fight for it.”

“Why, what can they do? They never can break through the door, and when daylight comes we can shoot them by dozens.”

“Depend upon it,” said I, “they will try to burn us out. The wind is high, which is all in their favour, and I suspect they are now gone to collect firewood.”

“And if they do fire the cabin, what shall we do? I never thought of that.”

“We must remain in it as long as we can, and then sally out and fight to the last; but every thing depends on circumstances. Be guided by me, and I will save you if I can.”

“Be guided by you!”

“Yes! Recollect I am not in chains now, and that although you have all the courage of a man, still you have not been so accustomed to warfare as I have been. I have long been accustomed to command, to plan, and to execute, in times of peril like this.”

“You have great strength and courage; I little thought what a lion I had chained up,” replied she. “Well, I love you all the better for it, and I will be guided by you, for I perceive already that you have the best head of the two. Hark! What is that?”

“It is what I said,” replied I; “they are laying firewood against the logs of the cabin on the windward side—(this was on the side opposite to the door). Now we must try if we cannot pick off some more of them,” said I, rising and taking a musket. “Bring the stools over to this side, for we must fire from the upper loop-holes.”

We remained at our posts for some time without seeing an Indian. They had gone back to the wood for more combustibles. At last we perceived them coming back with the wood. I should imagine there were at least twenty of them.

“Now, take good aim,” said I.

We both fired almost at the same moment, and three Indians fell.

“Get down, and give me another musket,” said I to my mistress.

She handed me one, and, taking another for herself, resumed her station. We fired several times; sometimes with and sometimes without success; for the Indians went away twice for firewood before they had collected what they considered sufficient. By this time it was piled up to the eaves of the cabin, and our loop-holes were shut up; we therefore went over to the other side, where the door was, to see if there were any Indians there, but could not see one. We had been on the look-out for about five minutes, when the crackling of the wood, and the smoke forcing itself through the crevices between the logs, told us that the fire had been applied, and the wind soon fanned it up so that the flame poured through every chink and loop-hole, and lighted up the cabin.

“We must retreat to the fire-place,” said I. “Come quickly, or we shall be shot.”

“Why so?” said she, as she did as I requested.

“They will peep through the loop-holes on the side of the cabin where the door is and see us plainly, until the cabin is filled with smoke, which it soon will be.”

“But tell me what we are to do now, for I feel if this smoke increases we shall not be able to speak to one another.”

This she said about five minutes after we had remained standing in the fire-place, with our heads up the chimney.

“Perhaps it will be as well,” replied I, “that I do speak so. This fierce wind drives the smoke to leeward in volumes, but the great burst of smoke will be when the roof is well on fire. It is now burning fiercely on the windward side, but we must wait till the lee-side has caught, and then the volume of smoke will be greater. The great point is to hit the precise time of opening the door, and escaping shrouded in a volume of smoke. If too soon, they will perceive us, and we shall be shot down; if too late, the roof will fall upon us, and we shall be smothered or burnt. We had better now, I think, leave this, and be all ready. Our best weapon, if we have to fight our way, will be an axe. Let us each take one, and, by now going near to the door, and putting our mouths to one of the loop-holes, we shall breathe freer, and unbar the door at the right time. Do you agree with me?”

“You are right,” said she; “you are a man, and I am a woman.”

We left the fire-place, and having felt for and found the axes, we went near the door, and put our mouths to the loop-holes below; and the smoke passing above them enabled us to breathe freer. I looked out and perceived that, with the exception of about six yards to leeward of the cabin, there was a dense volume of smoke rolling along the ground for a long distance, and that if we could only once gain it without being perceived, we should probably be saved. I therefore unbarred the door, drew the bolt, and held it in my hand, all ready for a start. The cabin was now in flames in every part as well as the roof. I touched my mistress, and then took her hand in mine, watching at the loop-hole. At last, when the heat was almost unbearable, an eddy of the wind drove back the smoke close to the lee-side of the cabin, and all was dark. I jumped up, opened the door, and dragged my mistress after me; we walked out into the black mass completely hid from our enemies, and then running hand-in-hand as fast as we could to leeward in the centre of the smoke, we found ourselves at least one hundred yards from the cabin without the Indians having any idea that we were not still inside. As we retreated, the density of the smoke became less, and I then told her to run for her life, as the Indians would discover that the door of the cabin was open and that we had escaped—and so it proved. We were still a hundred yards from the wood when a yell was given which proved that they had discovered our escape, and were in pursuit. We gained the wood; I turned round a moment to look behind me, and perceived at least forty or fifty Indians in full pursuit of us—the foremost about two hundred yards distant.

“Now we must run for it, mistress,” said I, “and we must no longer take hands. We shall have to thread the wood. Away! We have no time to lose.”

So saying, I snatched my hand from her and sprang forward; she following me as fast as she could, more fearful, evidently, of my making my escape from her than of her own escape from the Indians. As soon as I was a hundred yards in the wood, I turned short to the right, and fled with all my speed in that direction, because I hoped by this means to deceive the Indians, and it was easier to run where the wood was not so thick. My mistress followed me close: she would have hallooed to me, but she had not breath after the first half-mile. I found out that I was more fleet than she was. Whether encumbered with her clothes, or perhaps not so much used to exercise, I heard her panting after me. I could easily have left her, but my fear was that she would have called to me, and if she had, the Indians would have heard her, and have known the direction I had taken, and, when once on my trail, they would, as soon as daylight came, have followed me by it to any distance; I therefore slackened my speed so as just to enable my mistress to keep up with me at about ten yards’ distance; when we had run about three miles I felt certain that she could not proceed much further: speak she could not, and as I ran without once looking behind me, she could make no sign. I continued at a less rapid pace for about a mile further. I did this to enable her to keep up with me, and to recover my own breath as much as possible previous to a start. The voices of the Indians had long been out of hearing, and it was clear that they had not discovered the direction which we had taken. I knew, therefore, that they could not hear her now, if she did cry out as loud as she could, and I gradually increased my speed, till I could no longer hear her panting behind me; I then went off at my full speed, and after a few minutes I heard her voice at some distance faintly calling out my name. “Yes,” thought I, “but I have not forgotten the ball and chain; and if you thought that you had let loose a lion while we were in the cabin, you shall find that you have loosed a deer in the woods.” I then stopped for a few moments to recover my breath; I did not, however, wait long; I was afraid that my mistress might recover her breath as well as myself, and I again set off as fast as I could. The idea of torture from the Indians, or again being kept confined by my mistress, gave me endurance which I thought myself incapable of. Before morning I calculated that I had run at least twenty miles, if not more.

With the perspiration running down me in streams, and hardly able to drag one leg before the other, I at last, just about daybreak, gave it up, when I threw myself on the ground, and dropped out of my hand my axe, which I had carried the whole way. I lay there for more than half an hour, tormented with thirst, but quite unable to move. At last I recovered; and, as I well knew that the Indians would divide in parties of three or four, and hunt every part of the woods, and by daylight probably discover my track, I rose and prepared to resume my toil, when, looking round me, I perceived that I was exactly on the spot where I had followed the deer, and had fallen in with the Jolly Rover, as he termed himself, who had pointed out the way to the plantations. I turned and saw the river below, and as he had told me that the Indians never came there, I resolved to go to the river, where, at least, I should find shell-fish and water. I did so; and in half an hour arrived at the skirts of the wood, and found that the river was about four hundred yards from me and clear of trees at the mouth for some distance. I went down to the river, which ran swiftly out, and I drank till I was ready to burst. I then rose on my feet, and walked along its banks towards the mouth, thinking what I should do. To get to James Town appeared to me to be an impossibility, unless by water, and I was not likely to meet with any other vessel here but a pirate. Should I then go aboard of a pirate? It appeared to me to be my only resource, and that I should be happy if I could find one.

By this time I had arrived at the mouth of the river, and, looking out to seaward, I saw a schooner at anchor. She was about three miles off. That she was a pirate vessel, I presumed. Should I go on board of her or not? and if so, how was I to get on board? All her boats were up: and I surmised that she had just left the river with the intention of sailing as soon as there was any wind, for now it was calm. The river ran out swiftly, and I thought I should be able to swim the distance with the assistance I should obtain from the current, which swept down right for her, and she was riding to its strength.

I was demurring. I had been perhaps two hours on the beach, waiting to see if she might send a boat on shore, when, as I stood at the river-side, still hesitating, I happened to turn round and perceived three Indians coming down upon me as fast as they could. I hesitated no longer, but plunged into the stream, and was swept out two hundred yards before they arrived at the beach. I made for the schooner; and the current ran out so fast, that in half an hour I was close to her. I swam for her cable, which I clung to, and then shouted loudly. This induced some of the crew to look over the bows, and they handed me a bowling knot, into which I fixed myself, and was hauled on board.

I was dragged aft to give an account of myself, and I stated in few words that I had been pursued by the Indians, and swam off to save my life.

“Hav’n’t we met before?” said a rough voice.

I looked, and saw the Jolly Rover, whom I had fallen in with on shore. I said, “Yes; I was escaping from the Indians when I met you, and you showed me the direction of the plantations.”

“All’s right,” said he. “It’s a true bill; and were those Indians after you that we saw on the beach just now?”

“Yes,” I replied; and then I stated how it was that they had attacked our cabin, and how we had escaped.

“That was well done, and so you swam off three miles. Fire and water won’t hurt you; that’s clear. You’re just the man for us. What thing-um-bob is this that you have hung round your neck?” said he, taking up the leathern bag with the diamond in it.

“That,” replied I—a sudden thought having struck me—“is my caul; I was born with a caul, and I have always worn it, as it saves a man from drowning.”

“No wonder that you swam three miles, then,” replied the man.

You must know, Madam, that some people are born with a membrane over the face, which is termed a caul, and there has been a vulgar error that such people can never be drowned, especially if they wear this caul about their person in after-life. Sailors are superstitious in many things, but particularly in this, and my caul was therefore as much respected by them as it hung round my neck, as it was by the Indians when they thought it was what they call “magic” or “medicine.”

“Well,” said the Jolly Rover, “as you had so much fire, so much water, and so much running, I think you won’t be sorry to have a biscuit and glass of grog, and then turn in; to-morrow we will talk to you.”

I went down below, very glad to accept the offer, and as I was regaling myself, who should come up to me but two of the Portuguese who had been wrecked in the xebeque, and put on shore with me in the little boat by the captain of the Transcendant. I was very glad to see them. They told me that, after great hardship and suffering, they had arrived famished at the banks of this river, and had been taken on board by the pirates, and had remained with them ever since; that they were very anxious to get away, but never had an opportunity. I begged them not to say who I was, but merely that I was once a shipmate of theirs. They promised, and being very tired, I then lay down and fell asleep. I was so worn out, that I did not wake till the next morning, when I found that we were under all sail running down to the southward. I saw the Jolly Rover, as I had termed him, on deck (his real or assumed name, I don’t know which, I found out to be Toplift), sitting on a gun abaft. He called me to him. I said,

“Are you the captain?”

“Yes,” he replied, “for want of a better. I told you months ago what we were, so it’s no use repeating it. Do you intend to join us?”

“Then,” replied I, “I will be very candid with you. I have been driven as it were on board of your vessel, but certainly without knowing exactly what she was. Now, captain, I have to ask you one question:—Would you, if you could go on shore in England, with plenty of money at your command, and plenty of good friends,—would you be here?”

“No; certainly not,” replied he.

“Well; I am in that position. If once in England, I have money enough to live upon, and plenty of friends; I therefore naturally want to get back to England, and not to run the risk of my neck on board of this vessel.”

“That’s very true,” replied he, “but there are other considerations; my men won’t have a man on board who will not swear fidelity, and if you will not, I cannot protect you,—they will throw you overboard. We don’t carry passengers.”

“That’s very true, also; and I will swear fidelity so far as this, that you never shall be betrayed by me, and I never will appear as a witness against one of you; it were most ungrateful if I did. While I am on board, I will do any duty you please to put me to, for I cannot expect to eat my bread for nothing.”