The Privateersman

“No: but I will tell you candidly, my men, if they knew all this, would not allow you to leave the vessel. Indeed, you might be captain if you pleased, for I do not suit them. Our captain—for I was his officer—was killed about six months ago; and I really am not fit for the office—I am too tender-hearted.”

“Well; you don’t look so,” replied I, laughing.

“Can’t judge of outsides,” replied he; “but it’s a fact. They say that they will be all condemned if taken, from my not destroying the crews of the vessels we take; that they will be so many witnesses against them; and I cannot make up my mind to cold-blooded murder. I am bad enough; I rob on the high seas; I kill on the high seas—for we must kill when we fight; but I cannot commit deliberate murder either at sea or on shore, and so I tell them. If any one else could navigate the vessel, I should be superseded immediately.”

“I am glad to hear you say what you have, captain; it makes me less dissatisfied at finding myself here. Well; I have said all I can, and I must trust to you to manage with your ship’s company.”

“It will be a difficult job,” said he, musing.

“Tell them,” replied I, “that I was once a captain of a vessel like this (after all, there is not so much difference between a pirate and a privateer as you may think)—and that I will not be under the command of any one.”

“If they hear that, they will give you the command of this vessel.”

“I will refuse to take it; and give my reasons.”

“Well; I’ll tell them that: I leave you to settle with them how you can; but,” added he, in a low tone, “there are some desperate villains among them.”

“That I take for granted,” replied I; “so now I leave you to speak to them.”

Toplift did so. He told them that I was a pirate captain, who had lost his vessel and been thrown on shore, but I refused to join any ship except as captain of her; that I would not serve as first officer, and would obey no one. He told them that he knew me before, and he narrated the business at Bordeaux when I commanded a privateer, extolling me, as I afterwards found, beyond all measure.

The crew, having heard what he had to say, went forward, and, after consultation, came to Toplift and said that I must take the oath.

Toplift replied that he had desired me so to do, and that I had answered that I would not. “But,” said he, “you had better speak to him yourselves. Call all hands aft and hear what he has to say.”

This was done, and I was sent for.

“I have told them what you said, Sir. I don’t know your name.”

“I have no name,” replied I, proudly, “except ‘Captain,’—that’s my name.”

The fact is, Madam, I was determined to carry it out bravely; knowing that it is the best way to deal with such people as I now had in hand.

“Well, then, Captain, I have told the men that you will not take the oath.”

“Take the oath!” replied I, with scorn; “no; I administer the oath to others. I make them take it. I make them swear fidelity to me. Such has been my conduct, and I shall not depart from it.”

“Well, but, Captain Toplift, you don’t mean to say that he is to remain on board with us and not take the oath,” said a surly-looking ruffian. “In spite of you, he shall take the oath, Captain Toplift.”

“Captain Toplift,” said I, calmly, “do you allow one of your crew to use such language as this? Had I been captain of this ship, I would have blown his brains out as he stood. You don’t know how to deal with these rascals. I do.”

Captain Toplift, who appeared much pleased at being supported in this way by me—(strange that a single individual, whom they might have thrown overboard in a minute, should have gained such an ascendency, but so it was)—and who perceived that the men fell back, as if taken by surprise, then said, “Captain, you have taught me a good lesson, which I will take advantage of. Seize that fellow and put him in irons.”

“Hah!” cried the man, seeing that no man touched him; “who is to bell the cat! Hah!” and drew his cutlass.

“I will, then,” said I to Captain Toplift, “if you desire it;” and stepping forward I went up to the man, saying, “Come, come, my good fellow, this won’t do here; I am used to deal with such chaps as you, and I can manage worse than you, a good deal.”

I advanced till I was within the stroke of his cutlass before he was aware of it, and, seizing him by the waist, I threw him flat on his back and put my foot on his neck.

“Now,” cried I, in an authoritative voice, “put this man in irons immediately—refuse who dares. Here, you Sirs, lay hold of this fellow,” continued I, looking to the Portuguese; who accordingly came forward and led him away, assisted by others, who now joined them.

“Are there any more mutineers here?” inquired I; “if so let them step forward.”

No one stirred.

“My lads,” said I, “it is very true that I have refused to take the oath, for the oath is not given to those who command, but to those who obey; but at the same time I am not one to betray you. You know who I am; and is it likely?”

“No, no,” replied the men.

“Sir,” asked one of them, who had been most forward and insolent, “will you be our captain?—say but the word,—you are the sort of man we want.”

“You have a captain already,” replied I, “and in a few weeks I shall command a vessel of my own; I cannot, therefore, accept your offer; but while I am on board I will do all in my power to assist Captain Toplift in any way, and you can desire no more. And now, my men, as an old hand, I have but this advice to give you, which is—to return to your duty; for everything in a vessel of this description depends upon obedience; and to you, Captain Toplift, I have also advice to give, which is—to shoot the first man who behaves as that scoundrel did who is now in irons. Boatswain! Pipe down.”

I hardly knew whether this latter order would be obeyed by the boatswain, or, if obeyed by the boatswain, whether it would be obeyed by the men; but, to my great satisfaction, it was; and the men retired peaceably.

“Well, Captain Toplift,” said I, “I have done you no harm, and myself some good.”

“You have indeed,” replied he; “come down into the cabin.” When we were in the cabin he said, “You have unarmed and subdued the most mutinous rascal in the vessel, and you have strengthened my authority. They fully believe you are what you assert from your behaviour, and I feel, with you at my side, I shall get on better with these fellows than I have done. But now, to keep up the idea, you must, of course, mess in the cabin with me, and I can offer you clothes, not my own, but those of the former captain, which will suit your shape and make.”

I readily agreed with him; and, having equipped myself in the clothes he offered me, which were handsome, I soon afterwards went on deck with him, and received the greatest respect from the men as I passed them. A cot was slung for me in the cabin, and I lived altogether with Captain Toplift, who was a good-hearted, rough sort of a man, certainly wholly unfit for the command of a vessel manned by such a set of miscreants, and employed on such a service. He told me that he had been taken three years before by a pirate vessel, and finding that he could navigate, they had detained him by force, and that at last he had become accustomed to his position.

“We all must live,” said he, “and I had no other means of livelihood left me; but it’s sorely against my conscience, and that’s the truth. However, I am used to it now, and that reconciles you to anything, except murder in cold blood, and that I never will consent to.”

On my inquiring where they were about to cruise, he said, on the Spanish Main.

“But,” said I, “it is peace with the Spaniards just now.”

“I hardly knew,” said he, “it was peace. Not that peace makes any difference to us, for we take everything; but you refer to myself, I know, and I tell you frankly that I have preferred this cruise merely that we may not fall in with English vessels, which we are not likely to do there. I wish I was out of her with all my heart and soul.”

“No doubt of it, Captain Toplift, I think you are sincere. Suppose you put into one of the inlets of Jamaica, they won’t know where we are; let us take a boat on shore and leave her. I will provide for you, and you shall gain your living in an honest way.”

“God bless you, Sir,” said he; “I will try what I can do. We must talk the matter over, for they may suspect something, and then it would be all over with us.”

We continued to run down till we were in the latitude of the Virgin Isles, and then we altered her course for Jamaica. The first and second mates generally received information of Captain Toplift as to his movements and intentions, which they communicated to the crew. If the crew disapproved of them, they said so, and they were considered to have some voice in the matter.

Now, although no navigators, these men knew enough of a chart and a course to find that there must be some reason for its being altered as it was, instead of running down by the Spanish Main, and they inquired why the cruise was altered.

Captain Toplift replied that he had taken my advice, and that I had assured him that at the back of the island of Jamaica we should certainly fall in with some rich Spanish vessels, if we lay there quiet in some nook or another for a short time, as this was their time for coming up from the south to the Havannah, where they rendezvoused for a convoy.

This reply appeared very satisfactory to the crew, for they were all cheerful and obedient, and we ran down to Jamaica, and when we were close in shore we shortened sail and hove-to. We remained three or four days in the offing, that we might not cause any suspicion by our leaving too soon. Captain Toplift then told the mates that I proposed anchoring in some secret bay or inlet, as we were certain to see the Spanish ships if we could send any one ashore on the hills to look out for them. This was agreed to, and we made sail and ran along the coast, looking out for some convenient anchorage.

As we were so doing, a vessel hove in sight, and we immediately made all sail in chase. As she did not attempt to avoid us, we hauled off as she came near, to see what she might be. She then hoisted a yellow flag at her peak (for she was an hermaphrodite brig); this puzzled us not a little, and we edged down towards her, for she was very rakish-looking, except in her sails.

As we neared, finding, I suppose, that we did not answer her signals, and we were not the vessel she expected us to be, she suddenly altered her course before the wind, setting all the sail that she possibly could. We immediately crowded canvass in chase, and came up with her fast. As we ran, the mate and I looked at her through the glass, and I made her out to be the Transcendant, the captain of which had treated us so cruelly when we were in the boat, and who had robbed us of our money and clothes. I called the Portuguese and desired them to look at the vessel through the glass, and give me their opinion. They directly said that it was the vessel I supposed.

“Let us only catch the rascal,” said I, “and we will pay him in his own coin;” and I immediately gave directions for the better trimming of the sails, so anxious was I to come up with him.

The men of the schooner were much pleased at the anxiety I displayed to come up with the chase, and by the alacrity with which they obeyed me I saw how anxious they were that I should be their captain. In two hours we were within gun-shot, and sent one of our bow-chasers after him. Perceiving that it was useless to run, the fellow hove-to, and as we came alongside he was all ready with his boat to come on board. He did so, and at first I kept out of sight to hear what he would say. He was followed up the side by his amiable son. Captain Toplift received him on deck, and he looked around him, saying, “I believe I am right. I was afraid I had made more mistakes than one. I believe you are in the free trade?”