The Privateer's-Man, One hundred Years Ago

“Mayn’t I go on deck for a bit?” said he.

“What, to wish your father good-bye? No, no, you had better spare yourself and him that painful meeting.”

“No, I don’t want to wish him good-bye; I’ll wait till it’s over, only I never did see a man hanged, and I have a curiosity to have just a peep.”

“Out, you little monster,” cried I, running up on deck, for the information I had received was too important not to be immediately taken advantage of.

“Well, captain, has the boy saved his father’s life?”

“No,” replied I, in a loud voice.

“Then, up he goes,” said the men, for the halter had been round his neck and run out to the yard-arm for some time, and the men had manned the rope, only awaiting my return on deck. In a second, the captain of the Transcendant was swinging in the air, and certainly if ever a scoundrel merited his fate, it was that man. Shortly afterwards I turned round, and there was the young hopeful looking at his father’s body swinging to and fro with the motion of the vessel.

I looked in vain for a tear in his eye; there was not a symptom of emotion. Seeing me look sternly at him, he hastened down below again.

“My lads,” said I to the men, who were all on deck, “I have received intelligence of that importance that I recommend that we should cut that vessel adrift, and make sail without a moment’s loss of time.”

“What, not plunder?” cried the men, looking at the Transcendant.

“No, not think of it, if you are wise.”

At this reply all of the men exclaimed that “that would not do”—“that plunder they would”—that “I was not the captain of the vessel,” and many more expressions showing how soon a man may lose popularity on board of a pirate vessel.

“I gave my opinion, my men, and if you will hear why I said so—”

“No, no, out boats,” cried they all, and simultaneously ran to lower down the boats, for it was now calm, that they might tow the schooner alongside of the Transcendant.

“You might as well talk to the wind as talk to them when there is plunder to be obtained,” said Toplift to me in a low tone.

“Come down with me,” said I, “and I will tell you what I have heard.”

“Ain’t they going to plunder the brig?” said Master Peleg, when we came down; “I know where father’s dollars are,” and up he ran on deck.

I made a short remark upon the depravity of the boy, and then informed Captain Toplift of what he had told me.

“If you had told them, they would not have paid attention to you. The boat’s crew who came with the captain have told them that there is money on board, and all authority is now at an end.”

“Well,” replied I, “I believe that the boy has told the truth.”

“And what do you mean to do?”

“Remain below quietly, if I am allowed,” replied I.

“But I cannot,” said he; “they would throw me overboard.”

“Make as bad a fight of it as you can,” replied I.

“That I will,” said Captain Toplift, “and with so superior a force opposed, we cannot stand long. But I must tell you where you must be.”

“Where?” replied I.

“At the entrance of the magazine, for as sure as we stand here they will blow up the vessel rather than be taken. Not all of them, but two or three I know are determined so to do, and resolute enough to do it. My pistols are there. You have only to open this door, and you are in the magazine passage. See,” said he, opening the door, “there is the scuttle where they hand the powder up.”

“I will be on the watch, depend upon it; and, Captain Toplift, if the schooner is taken, and I am alive, you may have no fear for yourself.”

“Now let us go on deck again.”

“I will follow you,” replied I.

“I am alone at last, thank Heaven!” said I to myself. “What a position am I in, and how much will be in suspense before twenty-four hours are over. My own brother here, not ten miles perhaps from me, commanding the vessel which will attack this on which I am on board. That they will take us I have no doubt; but what risk do I run—of death by shot, or by their blowing up the vessel in spite of me, or of no quarter being given. Well, I wish it were decided. At all events, I am long supposed dead, and I shall not be recognized among the heaps of bodies.”

I then went to the locker and took out my duck frock and trowsers, determining that I would, if I were killed, be killed in those clothes, and be thrown overboard as a common seaman. I then went on deck, for I had heard the grating of the sides of the two vessels and knew that they were in contact.

All was uproar and confusion on board of the Transcendant, but there was nobody on board the schooner except Toplift and myself. I cannot say that I never saw such a scene, for I had seen quite as bad on board of a privateer. The common seamen, as well as the soldiers, when let loose to plunder, are like maniacs. In half an hour they had broken open every thing, cut the crew to pieces, found out the hoard of dollars, which was shown them by young Peleg, who tried for his share, but for so doing received a chop with a cutlass, which cut off his right ear, and wounded him severely on the shoulder; but his right arm was not disabled, and while the man that cut him down was bending over a heap of dollars, which took both hands to lift them, the boy ran his knife deep into the man’s side, who fell mortally wounded. The rush for the dollars thus at the mercy of the rest was so great, that Peleg was not minded, and he crept away and came on board the schooner. We saw that he was bleeding profusely, but we asked no questions, and he went down the ladder forward.

“What has that young villain been after?” said Toplift.

“I presume he has been quarrelling for plunder, and considered that he had a greater right to his father’s money than anybody else.”

Among other plunder the people had not forgotten to look for liquor, and an hour had not passed before three-fourths of the men were more or less intoxicated. They had found plenty of good clothes, and were strutting about with gold-laced waistcoats and embroidered coats over their dirty frocks. The uproar increased every minute, when Toplift, who had been looking out with the glass, exclaimed, “There she is, by all that’s sacred!”

I caught the glass out of his hand, and found it was the king’s ship. She was a large flush vessel, apparently of eighteen or twenty guns, just opening from the point, and not seven miles from us. We were still becalmed, and she was bringing the wind down with her, so that to escape appeared impossible.

“Now, what shall we do?” said Captain Toplift; “shall we allow her to come down upon us and say nothing to the men, or shall we point out the danger, and persuade them to come on board and prepare?”

“You must do as you please,” replied I, “I am indifferent which. It will be dark in another hour, and she will not be down by that time. I would rather avoid fighting, and get away from the schooner quietly if I could, but that I fear is impossible now.”

“Well, I must go on board of the brig and let them know, for if they find it out themselves, they will throw us overboard.”

Captain Toplift then went on board of the brig, and calling to the men who were still sober, told them that there was a king’s ship coming down upon them not seven miles off. This had the effect of putting an end to the confusion and noise of a great portion of the men, who hastened on board of the schooner, but others, who were intoxicated, were with difficulty persuaded to return.

At last they were all got on board, and the schooner, clear from the brig, was made ready for action; but Toplift was obliged to make some alteration in the stationing of the men, as those who were to hand up the powder were all of them tipsy. By the time that the schooner was ready, and the breeze had come down to her, the corvette was not more than three miles from us; but it was quite dark, for there is no twilight in those parts. We consulted what course we should take to avoid her, if possible, and agreed that we would stand in shore and pass her if we possibly could. We knew that, if seen, we were then certain to be obliged to fight; but if not seen, we might escape.

We then shifted the helm and bore up across her bows, but we had not steered in this direction more than a quarter of an hour, when the Transcendant was perceived to be on fire, having been fired by the drunken men before they left her, and soon afterwards she burst out into flames that threw a strong light to a great distance, discovering the corvette to us at two miles’ distance, and of course exposing us to the corvette, who immediately altered her course for us. We had therefore only to fight, and the crew, being most of them in liquor, declared that they would fight till the schooner sunk under them. In a quarter of an hour, the corvette being close to us, and standing stem on, we opened our fire, raking her masts and yards, and then I went down below. I had changed my clothes for the duck trowsers and shirt which I had swum on board in, and I now remained quietly in the cabin. A few minutes afterwards the corvette opened her fire, and the shot did great execution. The cries of the wounded and the shouts of the tipsy men were mingled together, but the crew of the schooner tired with great rapidity, and sustained the unequal conflict most gallantly.

After a time some men darted down into the cabin. I was then at the door which led to the magazine passage, and busied myself handing up the powder, as it secured me from observation, and it was supposed that I was one of the crew sent down for that duty.

The men roared out, “Where is the captain? We want him to fight the ship. Toplift is an old fool, and don’t know what he is about.”

I made no reply, but with my back towards them continued to hand up the powder, and, having changed my dress, they did not recognize me, so they rushed upon deck again.

The corvette was now alongside of the schooner, pouring in her broadsides with fatal execution, the shot passing in every direction through her, so that there was as much danger below as on deck, and it was evident that the schooner could not oppose them much longer. Still they continued to fire with great resolution, being now sobered into more steadiness than at first. But by this time more than half the men were killed and wounded, and our guns were encumbered with the wreck and bodies. I heard them, at the very time that a crashing broadside was poured in by the corvette, cry out, “Avast firing for a moment and clear the decks.”

They did so, and having thrown the bodies overboard and cut away the spars and rigging which had fallen, so as to enable them to work their guns, during which time three broadsides were poured in, they remanned their guns, and fought with as much spirit as before. I could not help admiring the courage of the scoundrels, for nothing could exceed it; but resistance was useless, further than they preferred dying at their guns to being hanged on the gibbet.

But the shouts of the pirates and the reports of the guns gradually decreased. The men were swept away by the enemy’s fire, and the guns were one by one disabled. The schooner’s sides were torn out, and the water poured in below so fast that it was rising to the magazine. I heard a cry of boarders, and the striking of the two vessels together, and then there was a rush down below, when a man came aft to the magazine passage. It was the fellow whom I had struck down on the quarter-deck and had put into irons.

“Come along,” said he, to the others; “we’ll send the corvette and ourselves all to the devil together. Out of the way there.”