Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the Sea Part 19

"It's all in a life-time," said he. "If I'm captured, of course I'll swing. But, meanwhile, I hope to have a good life."

Not many days afterwards he heard the welcome sound of:

"Sail ho! Off the port bow!"

And raising the gla.s.s to his eye discovered two fat, prosperous-looking merchant ships, slipping quietly along like an old maid fresh from market.

"Slap on all sail and give chase!" was bellowed out in stentorian tones, and the _Royal James_ was soon fairly boiling along with every st.i.tch aloft, which she could carry.

As she neared the merchantmen, the names came plainly to view: the _Peterborough_ of Bristol, and the _Victory_ of Liverpool, but a shot screamed across the bowsprit of the latter and victory was turned into defeat. A white flag was fluttering at her mainmast in a moment, for the Captain had no stomach for a fight.

"Egad, it's a pirate," said the good seaman in despair, as the black flag with the skull and cross-bones fluttered from the rigging of his capturer. "I thought she was a privateersman under Letters of Marque.

It's all up with us."

As the boat-load of boarders came bobbing alongside he cried out,

"Mercy! Have mercy upon the souls of these poor wretches who sail with me."

The pirates guffawed, helped themselves to everything of value, and took the merchantmen with them to the coast of Brazil, where the crew were allowed to escape to the sh.o.r.e. The _Peterborough_ was re-christened the _Victory_ and was manned by half of England's crew, while the other vessel was burned at night; the pirates dancing on the beach to the light of the flames and singing the weird songs of the sea.

Now there was a scene of wild revel upon the Brazilian coast; but the natives grew angry at the conduct of these rough men of the ocean.

"Ugh!" spoke a chief, "we must drive them away, else they will burn our own villages as they did their houses upon the water."

One peaceful evening the followers of Captain England were hard beset by fully a thousand black-skinned warriors from the Brazilian jungle.

There was a fierce battle. The negroes were pressed back upon their princ.i.p.al town and were driven through it on the run, for their arrows and spears were not as effective as the guns and pistols of the English, Dutch, Spaniards and Portuguese, who had adopted a piratical career. Their thatched huts were set on fire, and, satisfied with the day's work, the pirates retired to their ships, where a vote was cast where was to be their next venture. It fell to the East Indies and the Island of Madagascar. So they set sail, singing an old ballad which ran,

"Heave the lead and splice th' topsail, Tie her down, and let her fill, We're agoin' to Madagascar, Where th' little tom-t.i.ts trill,

"Bill an' coo, an' sing so sweetly, In th' dronin' hours of noon, That you want to die there, neatly, Just drop off into 'er swoon."

The voyage across was a good one and the pirates captured two East Indiamen and a Dutchman, bound to Bombay. These they exchanged for one of their own vessels, and then set out for Madagascar Island, where several of their hands were set ash.o.r.e with tents and ammunition, to kill such beasts and venison as the place afforded.

Then they sailed for the Isle of Juanna,--not a great distance from Madagascar,--and here had as keen a little engagement as ever employed a piratical crew. Hear the story of this fight in the words of Captain Mackra, an English sea-captain who happened at that time to be in the harbor.

"BOMBAY, November 16th, 1720.

"We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company with the _Greenwich_, at Juanna, an island not far from Madagascar. Putting in there to refresh our men, we found fourteen pirates who came in their canoes from the Mayotta (island) where the pirate ship to which they belonged, the _Indian Queen_--two hundred and fifty tons, twenty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Oliver de la Bouche, bound from the Guinea coast to the East Indies--had been bulged (run ash.o.r.e) and lost. They said they left the Captain and forty men building a new vessel, to proceed upon their wicked designs.

"Captain Kirby and I concluding that it might be of great service to the East India Company to destroy such a nest of rogues, were ready to sail for this purpose on the 17th of August, about eight o'clock in the morning, when we discovered two pirates standing into the Bay of Juanna, one of thirty-four and the other of thirty-six guns.

"I immediately went on board the _Greenwich_ where they seemed very diligent in preparation for an engagement, and I left Captain Kirby with mutual understanding of standing by each other. I then unmoored, got under sail, and brought two boats ahead to row me close to the _Greenwich_; but he being open to a breeze, made the best of his way from me; which an Ostender in our company of twenty-two guns, seeing, did the same, though the Captain had promised heartily to engage with us, and, I believe would have been as good as his word, if Captain Kirby had kept his.

"About half an hour after twelve, I called several times to the _Greenwich_ to bear down to our a.s.sistance, and fired a shot at him, but to no purpose; for, though we did not doubt but he would join us, because, when he got about a league from us he brought his ship to and looked on; yet both he and the Ostender basely deserted us, and left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman enemies, with their black and b.l.o.o.d.y flags hanging over us, without the least appearance of ever escaping, but to be cut to pieces.

"But G.o.d in his good providence, determined otherwise; for, notwithstanding their superiority, we engaged them both about three hours, during which time the biggest of them received some shot betwixt wind and water, which made her keep a little off, to stop her leaks. The other endeavored all she could to board us, by rowing with her oars, being within half a ship's length of us about an hour; but, by good fortune, we shot all her oars to pieces, which prevented them from getting in close, and consequently saved our lives.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES.'"]

"About four o'clock most of the officers and men posted on the quarter-deck being killed and wounded, the largest ship made up to us with diligence, after giving us a broadside. There now being no hopes of Captain Kirby's coming to our a.s.sistance, we endeavored to run ash.o.r.e; and though we drew four feet of water more than the pirate, it pleased G.o.d that he stuck fast on a higher ground than happily we fell in with; so was disappointed a second time from boarding us.

"Here we had a more violent engagement than before. All of my officers and most of my men behaved with unexpected courage; and, as we had a considerable advantage by having a chance to hurl a broadside into his bow, we did him great damage. Had Captain Kirby come in then, I believe we should have taken both the vessels, for we had one of them, sure.

"The other pirate (who was still firing at us) seeing the _Greenwich_ did not offer to a.s.sist us, supplied his consort with three boats full of fresh men. About five in the evening the _Greenwich_ stood clear away to sea, leaving us struggling hard for life, in the very jaws of death; which the other pirate that was afloat, seeing, got a hawser out, and began to haul under our stern.

"By this time many of my men were being killed and wounded, and no hopes left us of escaping being all murdered by enraged barbarous conquerors, I ordered all that could to get into the long-boat, under the cover of the smoke from our guns; so that, with what some did in boats, and others by swimming, most of us that were able got ash.o.r.e by seven o'clock.

"When the pirates came aboard, they cut three of our wounded men to pieces. I, with some of my people, made what haste I could to Kings-town, twenty-five miles from us; where I arrived next day, almost dead with the fatigue and loss of blood, having been sorely wounded in the head by a musket-ball.

"At this town I heard that the pirates had offered ten thousand dollars to the country people to bring me in, which many of them would have accepted, only they knew that the king and all his chief people were in my interest. Meanwhile I caused a report to be circulated that I was dead of my wounds, which much abated their fury.

"We had, in all, thirteen killed and twenty-four wounded; and we were told that we destroyed about ninety, or a hundred, of the pirates. I am persuaded that, had our consort the _Greenwich_ done her duty, we could have destroyed both of them, and got two hundred thousand pounds ($1,000,000.00) for our owners and ourselves."

What say you to this fight? And to think that our own good friend Captain Mackra just missed being a millionaire! Weep for the gallant sea warrior!

At any rate he got safely away, for, at length going aboard one of the piratical vessels,--under a flag of truce--he discovered that several of the wild sea-robbers knew him; some of them--even--had sailed with him in earlier years.

"I found this to be of great advantage," he writes. "For, notwithstanding their promise not to harm me, some of them would have cut me to pieces, had it not been for their chief, Captain Edward England, and some others whom I knew."

And he used his powers of persuasion to such effect that: "They made me a present of the shattered ship--which was Dutch built--called the _Fancy_, her burden being about three hundred tons.

"With jury-masts, and such other old sails as they left me, I set sail on September 8th, with forty-three of my ship's crew, including two pa.s.sengers and twelve soldiers. After a pa.s.sage of forty-eight days I arrived at Bombay on the 26th of October, almost naked and starved, having been reduced to a pint of water a day, and almost in despair of ever seeing land, by reason of the calms we met with between the coast of Arabia and Malabar."

The gallant writer of this interesting description was certainly in imminent danger of his life, when he trusted himself upon the pirate ship, and unquestionably nothing could have justified such a hazardous step but the desperate circ.u.mstances in which he was placed. The honor and influence of Captain England, however, protected him and his men from the wrath of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked their vengeance upon those who had dealt them such heavy blows in the recent fight.

But the generosity of Captain England toward the unfortunate Mackra proved to be calamitous to himself.

"You are no true pirate," cried one of his crew. "For a buccaneer never allows his foes to get away."

"No! No!" shouted others. "This fighting Mackra will soon come against us with a strong force. You did wrong in letting him escape."

"To the yard-arm with the traitor!" sounded from the throat of many a ruffianly seaman.

Thus grew the feeling of mutiny--and the result of these murmurs of discontent--was that Captain England was put ash.o.r.e by the cruel villains; and, with three others was marooned upon the island of Mauritius. Had they not been dest.i.tute of every necessity they might have been able to live in comfort, for the island abounds in deer, hogs, and other animals. Dissatisfied, however, with this solitary situation, Captain England and his three men exerted their industry and ingenuity, built a small boat, and sailed to Madagascar, where they lived upon the generosity of some more fortunate piratical companions.

But can a pirate remain happy when not pirating?

"Away with this life," cried Captain England. "I pine for more treasure and for battle. Let's out and to sea!"

"Good! Good!" said his mates. "Let's ship aboard another vessel and get away from here."

So, they again took to the ocean, but what became of Edward England is not known.

Some say that he was killed in a brawl; some that he was again marooned and was adopted by a savage tribe; some that he perished in a fight upon the Indian Ocean. At any rate that rough and valiant soul is lost to history, and--somewhere--in the vast solitude of the Southern Hemisphere, lie the bleaching bones of him who had flaunted the skull-and-cross-bones upon the wide highway of the gleaming wastes of salty brine. His was a rough and careless life. Do not emulate the career of Edward England!

Near the straits of Madagascar; near the sobbing oceans' roar, A ghostly shape glides nightly, by the beady, kelp-strewn sh.o.r.e.-- As the Cubic monkeys chatter; as the Bulbul lizards hiss, Comes a clear and quiet murmur, like a Zulu lover's kiss.