CHAPTER I—REVISITS ISLAND
That homely proverb, used on so
many occasions in England, viz. “That what is bred in the bone will
not go out of the flesh,” was never more verified than in the story
of my Life. Any one would think that after thirty-five years’
affliction, and a variety of unhappy circumstances, which few men,
if any, ever went through before, and after near seven years of
peace and enjoyment in the fulness of all things; grown old, and
when, if ever, it might be allowed me to have had experience of
every state of middle life, and to know which was most adapted to
make a man completely happy; I say, after all this, any one would
have thought that the native propensity to rambling which I gave an
account of in my first setting out in the world to have been so
predominant in my thoughts, should be worn out, and I might, at
sixty one years of age, have been a little inclined to stay at
home, and have done venturing life and fortune any more.
Nay, farther, the common motive
of foreign adventures was taken away in me, for I had no fortune to
make; I had nothing to seek: if I had gained ten thousand pounds I
had been no richer; for I had already sufficient for me, and for
those I had to leave it to; and what I had was visibly increasing;
for, having no great family, I could not spend the income of what I
had unless I would set up for an expensive way of living, such as a
great family, servants, equipage, gaiety, and the like, which were
things I had no notion of, or inclination to; so that I had
nothing, indeed, to do but to sit still, and fully enjoy what I had
got, and see it increase daily upon my hands. Yet all these things
had no effect upon me, or at least not enough to resist the strong
inclination I had to go abroad again, which hung about me like a
chronic distemper. In particular, the desire of seeing my new
plantation in the island, and the colony I left there, ran in my
head continually. I dreamed of it all night, and my imagination ran
upon it all day: it was uppermost in all my thoughts, and my fancy
worked so steadily and strongly upon it that I talked of it in my
sleep; in short, nothing could remove it out of my mind: it even
broke so violently into all my discourses that it made my
conversation tiresome, for I could talk of nothing else; all my
discourse ran into it, even to impertinence; and I saw it
myself.
I have often heard persons of
good judgment say that all the stir that people make in the world
about ghosts and apparitions is owing to the strength of
imagination, and the powerful operation of fancy in their minds;
that there is no such thing as a spirit appearing, or a ghost
walking; that people’s poring affectionately upon the past
conversation of their deceased friends so realises it to them that
they are capable of fancying, upon some extraordinary
circumstances, that they see them, talk to them, and are answered
by them,
when, in truth, there is nothing
but shadow and vapour in the thing, and they really know nothing of
the matter.
For my part, I know not to this
hour whether there are any such things as real apparitions,
spectres, or walking of people after they are dead; or whether
there is anything in the stories they tell us of that kind more
than the product of vapours, sick minds, and wandering fancies: but
this I know, that my imagination worked up to such a height, and
brought me into such excess of vapours, or what else I may call it,
that I actually supposed myself often upon the spot, at my old
castle, behind the trees; saw my old Spaniard, Friday’s father, and
the reprobate sailors I left upon the island; nay, I fancied I
talked with them, and looked at them steadily, though I was broad
awake, as at persons just before me; and this I did till I often
frightened myself with the images my fancy represented to me. One
time, in my sleep, I had the villainy of the three pirate sailors
so lively related to me by the first Spaniard, and Friday’s father,
that it was surprising: they told me how they barbarously attempted
to murder all the Spaniards, and that they set fire to the
provisions they had laid up, on purpose to distress and starve
them; things that I had never heard of, and that, indeed, were
never all of them true in fact: but it was so warm in my
imagination, and so realised to me, that, to the hour I saw them, I
could not be persuaded but that it was or would be true; also how I
resented it, when the Spaniard complained to me; and how I brought
them to justice, tried them, and ordered them all three to be
hanged. What there was really in this shall be seen in its place;
for however I came to form such things in my dream, and what secret
converse of spirits injected it, yet there was, I say, much of it
true. I own that this dream had nothing in it literally and
specifically true; but the general part was so true—the base;
villainous behaviour of these three hardened rogues was such, and
had been so much worse than all I can describe, that the dream had
too much similitude of the fact; and as I would afterwards have
punished them severely, so, if I had hanged them all, I had been
much in the right, and even should have been justified both by the
laws of God and man.
But to return to my story. In
this kind of temper I lived some years; I had no enjoyment of my
life, no pleasant hours, no agreeable diversion but what had
something or other of this in it; so that my wife, who saw my mind
wholly bent upon it, told me very seriously one night that she
believed there was some secret, powerful impulse of Providence upon
me, which had determined me to go thither again; and that she found
nothing hindered me going but my being engaged to a wife and
children. She told me that it was true she could not think of
parting with me: but as she was assured that if she was dead it
would be the first thing I would do, so, as it seemed to her that
the thing was determined above, she would not be the only
obstruction; for, if I thought fit and resolved to go—[Here she
found me very intent upon her words, and that I
looked very earnestly at her, so
that it a little disordered her, and she stopped. I asked her why
she did not go on, and say out what she was going to say?
But I perceived that her heart
was too full, and some tears stood in her eyes.] “Speak out, my
dear,” said I; “are you willing I should go?”—“No,” says she, very
affectionately, “I am far from willing; but if you are resolved to
go,” says she, “rather than I would be the only hindrance, I will
go with you: for though I think it a most preposterous thing for
one of your years, and in your condition, yet, if it must be,” said
she, again weeping, “I would not leave you; for if it be of Heaven
you must do it, there is no resisting it; and if Heaven make it
your duty to go, He will also make it mine to go with you, or
otherwise dispose of me, that I may not obstruct it.”
This affectionate behaviour of my
wife’s brought me a little out of the vapours, and I began to
consider what I was doing; I corrected my wandering fancy, and
began to argue with myself sedately what business I had after
threescore years, and after such a life of tedious sufferings and
disasters, and closed in so happy and easy a manner; I, say, what
business had I to rush into new hazards, and put myself upon
adventures fit only for youth and poverty to run into?
With those thoughts I considered
my new engagement; that I had a wife, one child born, and my wife
then great with child of another; that I had all the world could
give me, and had no need to seek hazard for gain; that I was
declining in years, and ought to think rather of leaving what I had
gained than of seeking to increase it; that as to what my wife had
said of its being an impulse from Heaven, and that it should be my
duty to go, I had no notion of that; so, after many of these
cogitations, I struggled with the power of my imagination, reasoned
myself out of it, as I believe people may always do in like cases
if they will: in a word, I conquered it, composed myself with such
arguments as occurred to my thoughts, and which my present
condition furnished me plentifully with; and particularly, as the
most effectual method, I resolved to divert myself with other
things, and to engage in some business that might effectually tie
me up from any more excursions of this kind; for I found that thing
return upon me chiefly when I was idle, and had nothing to do, nor
anything of moment immediately before me. To this purpose, I bought
a little farm in the county of Bedford, and resolved to remove
myself thither. I had a little convenient house upon it, and the
land about it, I found, was capable of great improvement; and it
was many ways suited to my inclination, which delighted in
cultivating, managing, planting, and improving of land; and
particularly, being an inland country, I was removed from
conversing among sailors and things relating to the remote parts of
the world. I went down to my farm, settled my family, bought
ploughs, harrows, a cart, waggon-horses, cows, and sheep, and,
setting seriously to work, became in one half-year a mere country
gentleman. My thoughts were entirely taken up in managing my
servants, cultivating the ground,
enclosing, planting, &c.; and I lived, as I thought, the most
agreeable life that nature was capable of directing, or that a man
always bred to misfortunes was capable of retreating to.
I farmed upon my own land; I had
no rent to pay, was limited by no articles; I could pull up or cut
down as I pleased; what I planted was for myself, and what I
improved was for my family; and having thus left off the thoughts
of wandering, I had not the least discomfort in any part of life as
to this world. Now I thought, indeed, that I enjoyed the middle
state of life which my father so earnestly recommended to me, and
lived a kind of heavenly life, something like what is described by
the poet, upon the subject of a country life:—
“Free from vices, free from
care,
Age has no pain, and youth no
snare.”
But in the middle of all this
felicity, one blow from unseen Providence unhinged me at once; and
not only made a breach upon me inevitable and incurable, but drove
me, by its consequences, into a deep relapse of the wandering
disposition, which, as I may say, being born in my very blood, soon
recovered its hold of me; and, like the returns of a violent
distemper, came on with an irresistible force upon me. This blow
was the loss of my wife. It is not my business here to write an
elegy upon my wife, give a character of her particular virtues, and
make my court to the sex by the flattery of a funeral sermon. She
was, in a few words, the stay of all my affairs; the centre of all
my enterprises; the engine that, by her prudence, reduced me to
that happy compass I was in, from the most extravagant and ruinous
project that filled my head, and did more to guide my rambling
genius than a mother’s tears, a father’s instructions, a friend’s
counsel, or all my own reasoning powers could do. I was happy in
listening to her, and in being moved by her entreaties; and to the
last degree desolate and dislocated in the world by the loss of
her.
When she was gone, the world
looked awkwardly round me. I was as much a stranger in it, in my
thoughts, as I was in the Brazils, when I first went on shore
there; and as much alone, except for the assistance of servants, as
I was in my island. I knew neither what to think nor what to do. I
saw the world busy around me: one part labouring for bread, another
part squandering in vile excesses or empty pleasures, but equally
miserable because the end they proposed still fled from them; for
the men of pleasure every day surfeited of their vice, and heaped
up work for sorrow and repentance; and the men of labour spent
their strength in daily struggling for bread to maintain the vital
strength they laboured with: so living in a daily circulation of
sorrow, living but to work, and working but to live, as if daily
bread were the only end of wearisome life, and a wearisome life the
only occasion of daily bread.
This put me in mind of the life I
lived in my kingdom, the island; where I suffered no more corn to
grow, because I did not want it; and bred no more goats, because I
had no more use for them; where the money lay in the drawer till it
grew mouldy, and had scarce the favour to be looked upon in twenty
years. All these things, had I improved them as I ought to have
done, and as reason and religion had dictated to me, would have
taught me to search farther than human enjoyments for a full
felicity; and that there was something which certainly was the
reason and end of life superior to all these things, and which was
either to be possessed, or at least hoped for, on this side of the
grave.
But my sage counsellor was gone;
I was like a ship without a pilot, that could only run afore the
wind. My thoughts ran all away again into the old affair; my head
was quite turned with the whimsies of foreign adventures; and all
the pleasant, innocent amusements of my farm, my garden, my cattle,
and my family, which before entirely possessed me, were nothing to
me, had no relish, and were like music to one that has no ear, or
food to one that has no taste. In a word, I resolved to leave off
housekeeping, let my farm, and return to London; and in a few
months after I did so.
When I came to London, I was
still as uneasy as I was before; I had no relish for the place, no
employment in it, nothing to do but to saunter about like an idle
person, of whom it may be said he is perfectly useless in God’s
creation, and it is not one farthing’s matter to the rest of his
kind whether he be dead or alive. This also was the thing which, of
all circumstances of life, was the most my aversion, who had been
all my days used to an active life; and I would often say to
myself, “A state of idleness is the very dregs of life;” and,
indeed, I thought I was much more suitably employed when I was
twenty-six days making a deal board.
It was now the beginning of the
year 1693, when my nephew, whom, as I have observed before, I had
brought up to the sea, and had made him commander of a ship, was
come home from a short voyage to Bilbao, being the first he had
made. He came to me, and told me that some merchants of his
acquaintance had been proposing to him to go a voyage for them to
the East Indies, and to China, as private traders. “And now,
uncle,” says he, “if you will go to sea with me, I will engage to
land you upon your old habitation in the island; for we are to
touch at the Brazils.”
Nothing can be a greater
demonstration of a future state, and of the existence of an
invisible world, than the concurrence of second causes with the
idea of things which we form in our minds, perfectly reserved, and
not communicated to any in the world.
My nephew knew nothing how far my
distemper of wandering was returned upon me, and I knew nothing of
what he had in his thought to say,
when that very morning, before he
came to me, I had, in a great deal of confusion of thought, and
revolving every part of my circumstances in my mind, come to this
resolution, that I would go to Lisbon, and consult with my old
sea-captain; and if it was rational and practicable, I would go and
see the island again, and what was become of my people there. I had
pleased myself with the thoughts of peopling the place, and
carrying inhabitants from hence, getting a patent for the
possession and I know not what; when, in the middle of all this, in
comes my nephew, as I have said, with his project of carrying me
thither in his way to the East Indies.
I paused a while at his words,
and looking steadily at him, “What devil,” said I, “sent you on
this unlucky errand?” My nephew stared as if he had been frightened
at first; but perceiving that I was not much displeased at the
proposal, he recovered himself. “I hope it may not be an unlucky
proposal, sir,” says he. “I daresay you would be pleased to see
your new colony there, where you once reigned with more felicity
than most of your brother monarchs in the world.” In a word, the
scheme hit so exactly with my temper, that is to say, the
prepossession I was under, and of which I have said so much, that I
told him, in a few words, if he agreed with the merchants, I would
go with him; but I told him I would not promise to go any further
than my own island. “Why, sir,” says he, “you don’t want to be left
there again, I hope?” “But,” said I, “can you not take me up again
on your return?” He told me it would not be possible to do so; that
the merchants would never allow him to come that way with a laden
ship of such value, it being a month’s sail out of his way, and
might be three or four. “Besides, sir, if I should miscarry,” said
he, “and not return at all, then you would be just reduced to the
condition you were in before.”
This was very rational; but we
both found out a remedy for it, which was to carry a framed sloop
on board the ship, which, being taken in pieces, might, by the help
of some carpenters, whom we agreed to carry with us, be set up
again in the island, and finished fit to go to sea in a few days. I
was not long resolving, for indeed the importunities of my nephew
joined so effectually with my inclination that nothing could oppose
me; on the other hand, my wife being dead, none concerned
themselves so much for me as to persuade me one way or the other,
except my ancient good friend the widow, who earnestly struggled
with me to consider my years, my easy circumstances, and the
needless hazards of a long voyage; and above all, my young
children. But it was all to no purpose, I had an irresistible
desire for the voyage; and I told her I thought there was something
so uncommon in the impressions I had upon my mind, that it would be
a kind of resisting Providence if I should attempt to stay at home;
after which she ceased her expostulations, and joined with me, not
only in making provision for my voyage, but also in settling my
family affairs for my absence, and providing for the education of
my children. In order to do
this, I made my will, and settled
the estate I had in such a manner for my children, and placed in
such hands, that I was perfectly easy and satisfied they would have
justice done them, whatever might befall me; and for their
education, I left it wholly to the widow, with a sufficient
maintenance to herself for her care: all which she richly deserved;
for no mother could have taken more care in their education, or
understood it better; and as she lived till I came home, I also
lived to thank her for it.
My nephew was ready to sail about
the beginning of January 1694-5; and I, with my man Friday, went on
board, in the Downs, the 8th; having, besides that sloop which I
mentioned above, a very considerable cargo of all kinds of
necessary things for my colony, which, if I did not find in good
condition, I resolved to leave so.
First, I carried with me some
servants whom I purposed to place there as inhabitants, or at least
to set on work there upon my account while I stayed, and either to
leave them there or carry them forward, as they should appear
willing; particularly, I carried two carpenters, a smith, and a
very handy, ingenious fellow, who was a cooper by trade, and was
also a general mechanic; for he was dexterous at making wheels and
hand-mills to grind corn, was a good turner and a good pot-maker;
he also made anything that was proper to make of earth or of wood:
in a word, we called him our Jack-of-all- trades. With these I
carried a tailor, who had offered himself to go a passenger to the
East Indies with my nephew, but afterwards consented to stay on our
new plantation, and who proved a most necessary handy fellow as
could be desired in many other businesses besides that of his
trade; for, as I observed formerly, necessity arms us for all
employments.
My cargo, as near as I can
recollect, for I have not kept account of the particulars,
consisted of a sufficient quantity of linen, and some English thin
stuffs, for clothing the Spaniards that I expected to find there;
and enough of them, as by my calculation might comfortably supply
them for seven years; if I remember right, the materials I carried
for clothing them, with gloves, hats, shoes, stockings, and all
such things as they could want for wearing, amounted to about two
hundred pounds, including some beds, bedding, and household stuff,
particularly kitchen utensils, with pots, kettles, pewter, brass,
&c.; and near a hundred pounds more in ironwork, nails, tools
of every kind, staples, hooks, hinges, and every necessary thing I
could think of.
I carried also a hundred spare
arms, muskets, and fusees; besides some pistols, a considerable
quantity of shot of all sizes, three or four tons of lead, and two
pieces of brass cannon; and, because I knew not what time and what
extremities I was providing for, I carried a hundred barrels of
powder, besides swords, cutlasses, and the iron part of some pikes
and halberds. In short, we had a large magazine of all sorts of
store; and I made my nephew carry two
small quarter-deck guns more than
he wanted for his ship, to leave behind if there was occasion; so
that when we came there we might build a fort and man it against
all sorts of enemies. Indeed, I at first thought there would be
need enough for all, and much more, if we hoped to maintain our
possession of the island, as shall be seen in the course of that
story.
I had not such bad luck in this
voyage as I had been used to meet with, and therefore shall have
the less occasion to interrupt the reader, who perhaps may be
impatient to hear how matters went with my colony; yet some odd
accidents, cross winds and bad weather happened on this first
setting out, which made the voyage longer than I expected it at
first; and I, who had never made but one voyage, my first voyage to
Guinea, in which I might be said to come back again, as the voyage
was at first designed, began to think the same ill fate attended
me, and that I was born to be never contented with being on shore,
and yet to be always unfortunate at sea. Contrary winds first put
us to the northward, and we were obliged to put in at Galway, in
Ireland, where we lay wind-bound two-and-twenty days; but we had
this satisfaction with the disaster, that provisions were here
exceeding cheap, and in the utmost plenty; so that while we lay
here we never touched the ship’s stores, but rather added to them.
Here, also, I took in several live hogs, and two cows with their
calves, which I resolved, if I had a good passage, to put on shore
in my island; but we found occasion to dispose otherwise of
them.
We set out on the 5th of February
from Ireland, and had a very fair gale of wind for some days. As I
remember, it might be about the 20th of February in the evening
late, when the mate, having the watch, came into the round-house
and told us he saw a flash of fire, and heard a gun fired; and
while he was telling us of it, a boy came in and told us the
boatswain heard another. This made us all run out upon the
quarter-deck, where for a while we heard nothing; but in a few
minutes we saw a very great light, and found that there was some
very terrible fire at a distance; immediately we had recourse to
our reckonings, in which we all agreed that there could be no land
that way in which the fire showed itself, no, not for five hundred
leagues, for it appeared at WNW. Upon this, we concluded it must be
some ship on fire at sea; and as, by our hearing the noise of guns
just before, we concluded that it could not be far off, we stood
directly towards it, and were presently satisfied we should
discover it, because the further we sailed, the greater the light
appeared; though, the weather being hazy, we could not perceive
anything but the light for a while. In about half-an-hour’s
sailing, the wind being fair for us, though not much of it, and the
weather clearing up a little, we could plainly discern that it was
a great ship on fire in the middle of the sea.
I was most sensibly touched with
this disaster, though not at all acquainted with the persons
engaged in it; I presently recollected my former
circumstances, and what condition
I was in when taken up by the Portuguese captain; and how much more
deplorable the circumstances of the poor creatures belonging to
that ship must be, if they had no other ship in company with them.
Upon this I immediately ordered that five guns should be fired, one
soon after another, that, if possible, we might give notice to them
that there was help for them at hand and that they might endeavour
to save themselves in their boat; for though we could see the
flames of the ship, yet they, it being night, could see nothing of
us.
We lay by some time upon this,
only driving as the burning ship drove, waiting for daylight; when,
on a sudden, to our great terror, though we had reason to expect
it, the ship blew up in the air; and in a few minutes all the fire
was out, that is to say, the rest of the ship sunk. This was a
terrible, and indeed an afflicting sight, for the sake of the poor
men, who, I concluded, must be either all destroyed in the ship, or
be in the utmost distress in their boat, in the middle of the
ocean; which, at present, as it was dark, I could not see.
However, to direct them as well
as I could, I caused lights to be hung out in all parts of the ship
where we could, and which we had lanterns for, and kept firing guns
all the night long, letting them know by this that there was a ship
not far off.
About eight o’clock in the
morning we discovered the ship’s boats by the help of our
perspective glasses, and found there were two of them, both
thronged with people, and deep in the water. We perceived they
rowed, the wind being against them; that they saw our ship, and did
their utmost to make us see them. We immediately spread our
ancient, to let them know we saw them, and hung a waft out, as a
signal for them to come on board, and then made more sail, standing
directly to them. In little more than half-an-hour we came up with
them; and took them all in, being no less than sixty-four men,
women, and children; for there were a great many passengers.
Upon inquiry we found it was a
French merchant ship of three-hundred tons, home-bound from Quebec.
The master gave us a long account of the distress of his ship; how
the fire began in the steerage by the negligence of the steersman,
which, on his crying out for help, was, as everybody thought,
entirely put out; but they soon found that some sparks of the first
fire had got into some part of the ship so difficult to come at
that they could not effectually quench it; and afterwards getting
in between the timbers, and within the ceiling of the ship, it
proceeded into the hold, and mastered all the skill and all the
application they were able to exert.
They had no more to do then but
to get into their boats, which, to their great comfort, were pretty
large; being their long-boat, and a great shallop, besides a small
skiff, which was of no great service to them, other than to get
some fresh water and provisions into her, after they had secured
their lives
from the fire. They had, indeed,
small hopes of their lives by getting into these boats at that
distance from any land; only, as they said, that they thus escaped
from the fire, and there was a possibility that some ship might
happen to be at sea, and might take them in. They had sails, oars,
and a compass; and had as much provision and water as, with sparing
it so as to be next door to starving, might support them about
twelve days, in which, if they had no bad weather and no contrary
winds, the captain said he hoped he might get to the banks of
Newfoundland, and might perhaps take some fish, to sustain them
till they might go on shore. But there were so many chances against
them in all these cases, such as storms, to overset and founder
them; rains and cold, to benumb and perish their limbs; contrary
winds, to keep them out and starve them; that it must have been
next to miraculous if they had escaped.
In the midst of their
consternation, every one being hopeless and ready to despair, the
captain, with tears in his eyes, told me they were on a sudden
surprised with the joy of hearing a gun fire, and after that four
more: these were the five guns which I caused to be fired at first
seeing the light. This revived their hearts, and gave them the
notice, which, as above, I desired it should, that there was a ship
at hand for their help. It was upon the hearing of these guns that
they took down their masts and sails: the sound coming from the
windward, they resolved to lie by till morning. Some time after
this, hearing no more guns, they fired three muskets, one a
considerable while after another; but these, the wind being
contrary, we never heard. Some time after that again they were
still more agreeably surprised with seeing our lights, and hearing
the guns, which, as I have said, I caused to be fired all the rest
of the night. This set them to work with their oars, to keep their
boats ahead, at least that we might the sooner come up with them;
and at last, to their inexpressible joy, they found we saw
them.
It is impossible for me to
express the several gestures, the strange ecstasies, the variety of
postures which these poor delivered people ran into, to express the
joy of their souls at so unexpected a deliverance. Grief and fear
are easily described: sighs, tears, groans, and a very few motions
of the head and hands, make up the sum of its variety; but an
excess of joy, a surprise of joy, has a thousand extravagances in
it. There were some in tears; some raging and tearing themselves,
as if they had been in the greatest agonies of sorrow; some stark
raving and downright lunatic; some ran about the ship stamping with
their feet, others wringing their hands; some were dancing, some
singing, some laughing, more crying, many quite dumb, not able to
speak a word; others sick and vomiting; several swooning and ready
to faint; and a few were crossing themselves and giving God
thanks.
I would not wrong them either;
there might be many that were thankful afterwards; but the passion
was too strong for them at first, and they were not
able to master it: then were
thrown into ecstasies, and a kind of frenzy, and it was but a very
few that were composed and serious in their joy. Perhaps also, the
case may have some addition to it from the particular circumstance
of that nation they belonged to: I mean the French, whose temper is
allowed to be more volatile, more passionate, and more sprightly,
and their spirits more fluid than in other nations. I am not
philosopher enough to determine the cause; but nothing I had ever
seen before came up to it. The ecstasies poor Friday, my trusty
savage, was in when he found his father in the boat came the
nearest to it; and the surprise of the master and his two
companions, whom I delivered from the villains that set them on
shore in the island, came a little way towards it; but nothing was
to compare to this, either that I saw in Friday, or anywhere else
in my life.
It is further observable, that
these extravagances did not show themselves in that different
manner I have mentioned, in different persons only; but all the
variety would appear, in a short succession of moments, in one and
the same person. A man that we saw this minute dumb, and, as it
were, stupid and confounded, would the next minute be dancing and
hallooing like an antic; and the next moment be tearing his hair,
or pulling his clothes to pieces, and stamping them under his feet
like a madman; in a few moments after that we would have him all in
tears, then sick, swooning, and, had not immediate help been had,
he would in a few moments have been dead. Thus it was, not with one
or two, or ten or twenty, but with the greatest part of them; and,
if I remember right, our surgeon was obliged to let blood of about
thirty persons.
There were two priests among
them: one an old man, and the other a young man; and that which was
strangest was, the oldest man was the worst. As soon as he set his
foot on board our ship, and saw himself safe, he dropped down stone
dead to all appearance. Not the least sign of life could be
perceived in him; our surgeon immediately applied proper remedies
to recover him, and was the only man in the ship that believed he
was not dead. At length he opened a vein in his arm, having first
chafed and rubbed the part, so as to warm it as much as possible.
Upon this the blood, which only dropped at first, flowing freely,
in three minutes after the man opened his eyes; a quarter of an
hour after that he spoke, grew better, and after the blood was
stopped, he walked about, told us he was perfectly well, and took a
dram of cordial which the surgeon gave him. About a quarter of an
hour after this they came running into the cabin to the surgeon,
who was bleeding a Frenchwoman that had fainted, and told him the
priest was gone stark mad. It seems he had begun to revolve the
change of his circumstances in his mind, and again this put him
into an ecstasy of joy. His spirits whirled about faster than the
vessels could convey them, the blood grew hot and feverish, and the
man was as fit for Bedlam as any creature that ever was in it. The
surgeon would not bleed him again in that condition, but gave him
something to doze and put him to sleep;
which, after some time, operated
upon him, and he awoke next morning perfectly composed and well.
The younger priest behaved with great command of his passions, and
was really an example of a serious, well- governed mind. At his
first coming on board the ship he threw himself flat on his face,
prostrating himself in thankfulness for his deliverance, in which I
unhappily and unseasonably disturbed him, really thinking he had
been in a swoon; but he spoke calmly, thanked me, told me he was
giving God thanks for his deliverance, begged me to leave him a few
moments, and that, next to his Maker, he would give me thanks also.
I was heartily sorry that I disturbed him, and not only left him,
but kept others from interrupting him also. He continued in that
posture about three minutes, or little more, after I left him, then
came to me, as he had said he would, and with a great deal of
seriousness and affection, but with tears in his eyes, thanked me,
that had, under God, given him and so many miserable creatures
their lives. I told him I had no need to tell him to thank God for
it, rather than me, for I had seen that he had done that already;
but I added that it was nothing but what reason and humanity
dictated to all men, and that we had as much reason as he to give
thanks to God, who had blessed us so far as to make us the
instruments of His mercy to so many of His creatures. After this
the young priest applied himself to his countrymen, and laboured to
compose them: he persuaded, entreated, argued, reasoned with them,
and did his utmost to keep them within the exercise of their
reason; and with some he had success, though others were for a time
out of all government of themselves.
I cannot help committing this to
writing, as perhaps it may be useful to those into whose hands it
may fall, for guiding themselves in the extravagances of their
passions; for if an excess of joy can carry men out to such a
length beyond the reach of their reason, what will not the
extravagances of anger, rage, and a provoked mind carry us to? And,
indeed, here I saw reason for keeping an exceeding watch over our
passions of every kind, as well those of joy and satisfaction as
those of sorrow and anger.
We were somewhat disordered by
these extravagances among our new guests for the first day; but
after they had retired to lodgings provided for them as well as our
ship would allow, and had slept heartily—as most of them did, being
fatigued and frightened—they were quite another sort of people the
next day. Nothing of good manners, or civil acknowledgments for the
kindness shown them, was wanting; the French, it is known, are
naturally apt enough to exceed that way. The captain and one of the
priests came to me the next day, and desired to speak with me and
my nephew; the commander began to consult with us what should be
done with them; and first, they told us we had saved their lives,
so all they had was little enough for a return to us for that
kindness received. The captain said they had saved some money and
some things of value in their boats, caught hastily out of the
flames, and if we would
accept it they were ordered to
make an offer of it all to us; they only desired to be set on shore
somewhere in our way, where, if possible, they might get a passage
to France. My nephew wished to accept their money at first word,
and to consider what to do with them afterwards; but I overruled
him in that part, for I knew what it was to be set on shore in a
strange country; and if the Portuguese captain that took me up at
sea had served me so, and taken all I had for my deliverance, I
must have been starved, or have been as much a slave at the Brazils
as I had been at Barbary, the mere being sold to a Mahometan
excepted; and perhaps a Portuguese is not a much better master than
a Turk, if not in some cases much worse.
I therefore told the French
captain that we had taken them up in their distress, it was true,
but that it was our duty to do so, as we were fellow- creatures;
and we would desire to be so delivered if we were in the like or
any other extremity; that we had done nothing for them but what we
believed they would have done for us if we had been in their case
and they in ours; but that we took them up to save them, not to
plunder them; and it would be a most barbarous thing to take that
little from them which they had saved out of the fire, and then set
them on shore and leave them; that this would be first to save them
from death, and then kill them ourselves: save them from drowning,
and abandon them to starving; and therefore I would not let the
least thing be taken from them. As to setting them on shore, I told
them indeed that was an exceeding difficulty to us, for that the
ship was bound to the East Indies; and though we were driven out of
our course to the westward a very great way, and perhaps were
directed by Heaven on purpose for their deliverance, yet it was
impossible for us wilfully to change our voyage on their particular
account; nor could my nephew, the captain, answer it to the
freighters, with whom he was under charter to pursue his voyage by
way of Brazil; and all I knew we could do for them was to put
ourselves in the way of meeting with other ships homeward bound
from the West Indies, and get them a passage, if possible, to
England or France.
The first part of the proposal
was so generous and kind they could not but be very thankful for
it; but they were in very great consternation, especially the
passengers, at the notion of being carried away to the East Indies;
they then entreated me that as I was driven so far to the westward
before I met with them, I would at least keep on the same course to
the banks of Newfoundland, where it was probable I might meet with
some ship or sloop that they might hire to carry them back to
Canada.
I thought this was but a
reasonable request on their part, and therefore I inclined to agree
to it; for indeed I considered that to carry this whole company to
the East Indies would not only be an intolerable severity upon the
poor people, but would be ruining our whole voyage by devouring all
our
provisions; so I thought it no
breach of charter-party, but what an unforeseen accident made
absolutely necessary to us, and in which no one could say we were
to blame; for the laws of God and nature would have forbid that we
should refuse to take up two boats full of people in such a
distressed condition; and the nature of the thing, as well
respecting ourselves as the poor people, obliged us to set them on
shore somewhere or other for their deliverance. So I consented that
we would carry them to Newfoundland, if wind and weather would
permit: and if not, I would carry them to Martinico, in the West
Indies.
The wind continued fresh
easterly, but the weather pretty good; and as the winds had
continued in the points between NE. and SE. a long time, we missed
several opportunities of sending them to France; for we met several
ships bound to Europe, whereof two were French, from St.
Christopher’s, but they had been so long beating up against the
wind that they durst take in no passengers, for fear of wanting
provisions for the voyage, as well for themselves as for those they
should take in; so we were obliged to go on. It was about a week
after this that we made the banks of Newfoundland; where, to
shorten my story, we put all our French people on board a bark,
which they hired at sea there, to put them on shore, and afterwards
to carry them to France, if they could get provisions to victual
themselves with. When I say all the French went on shore, I should
remember that the young priest I spoke of, hearing we were bound to
the East Indies, desired to go the voyage with us, and to be set on
shore on the coast of Coromandel; which I readily agreed to, for I
wonderfully liked the man, and had very good reason, as will appear
afterwards; also four of the seamen entered themselves on our ship,
and proved very useful fellows.
From hence we directed our course
for the West Indies, steering away S. and S. by E. for about twenty
days together, sometimes little or no wind at all; when we met with
another subject for our humanity to work upon, almost as deplorable
as that before.
CHAPTER II—INTERVENING HISTORY OF
COLONY
It was in the latitude of 27
degrees 5 minutes N., on the 19th day of March 1694-95, when we
spied a sail, our course SE. and by S. We soon perceived it was a
large vessel, and that she bore up to us, but could not at first
know what to make of her, till, after coming a little nearer, we
found she had lost her main-topmast, fore-mast, and bowsprit; and
presently she fired a gun as a signal of distress. The weather was
pretty good, wind at NNW. a fresh gale, and we soon came to speak
with her. We found her a ship of Bristol, bound
home from Barbadoes, but had been
blown out of the road at Barbadoes a few days before she was ready
to sail, by a terrible hurricane, while the captain and chief mate
were both gone on shore; so that, besides the terror of the storm,
they were in an indifferent case for good mariners to bring the
ship home.
They had been already nine weeks
at sea, and had met with another terrible storm, after the
hurricane was over, which had blown them quite out of their
knowledge to the westward, and in which they lost their masts. They
told us they expected to have seen the Bahama Islands, but were
then driven away again to the south-east, by a strong gale of wind
at NNW., the same that blew now: and having no sails to work the
ship with but a main course, and a kind of square sail upon a jury
fore-mast, which they had set up, they could not lie near the wind,
but were endeavouring to stand away for the Canaries.
But that which was worst of all
was, that they were almost starved for want of provisions, besides
the fatigues they had undergone; their bread and flesh were quite
gone—they had not one ounce left in the ship, and had had none for
eleven days. The only relief they had was, their water was not all
spent, and they had about half a barrel of flour left; they had
sugar enough; some succades, or sweetmeats, they had at first, but
these were all devoured; and they had seven casks of rum. There was
a youth and his mother and a maid- servant on board, who were
passengers, and thinking the ship was ready to sail, unhappily came
on board the evening before the hurricane began; and having no
provisions of their own left, they were in a more deplorable
condition than the rest: for the seamen being reduced to such an
extreme necessity themselves, had no compassion, we may be sure,
for the poor passengers; and they were, indeed, in such a condition
that their misery is very hard to describe.
I had perhaps not known this
part, if my curiosity had not led me, the weather being fair and
the wind abated, to go on board the ship. The second mate, who upon
this occasion commanded the ship, had been on board our ship, and
he told me they had three passengers in the great cabin that were
in a deplorable condition. “Nay,” says he, “I believe they are
dead, for I have heard nothing of them for above two days; and I
was afraid to inquire after them,” said he, “for I had nothing to
relieve them with.” We immediately applied ourselves to give them
what relief we could spare; and indeed I had so far overruled
things with my nephew, that I would have victualled them though we
had gone away to Virginia, or any other part of the coast of
America, to have supplied ourselves; but there was no necessity for
that.
But now they were in a new
danger; for they were afraid of eating too much, even of that
little we gave them. The mate, or commander, brought six men with
him in his boat; but these poor wretches looked like skeletons, and
were so weak that they could hardly sit to their oars. The mate
himself was