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 very ill, and half starved; for he declared
he had reserved nothing from the men, and went share
and share alike with them in every bit they ate.
I cautioned him to eat sparingly, and set meat before
him immediately, but he had not eaten three mouthfuls
before he began to be sick and out of order; so he
stopped a while, and our surgeon mixed him up something
with some broth, which he said would be to him both
food and physic; and after he had taken it he grew
better. In the meantime I forgot not the men.
I ordered victuals to be given them, and the poor
creatures rather devoured than ate it: they were
so exceedingly hungry that they were in a manner ravenous,
and had no command of themselves; and two of them ate
with so much greediness that they were in danger of
their lives the next morning. The sight of these
people’s distress was very moving to me, and
brought to mind what I had a terrible prospect of at
my first coming on shore in my island, where I had
not the least mouthful of food, or any prospect of
procuring any; besides the hourly apprehensions I
had of being made the food of other creatures.
But all the while the mate was thus relating to me
the miserable condition of the ship’s company,
I could not put out of my thought the story he had
told me of the three poor creatures in the great cabin,
viz. the mother, her son, and the maid-servant,
whom he had heard nothing of for two or three days,
and whom, he seemed to confess, they had wholly neglected,
their own extremities being so great; by which I understood
that they had really given them no food at all, and
that therefore they must be perished, and be all lying
dead, perhaps, on the floor or deck of the cabin.
As I therefore kept the mate, whom
we then called captain, on board with his men, to
refresh them, so I also forgot not the starving crew
that were left on board, but ordered my own boat to
go on board the ship, and, with my mate and twelve
men, to carry them a sack of bread, and four or five
pieces of beef to boil. Our surgeon charged
the men to cause the meat to be boiled while they
stayed, and to keep guard in the cook-room, to prevent
the men taking it to eat raw, or taking it out of
the pot before it was well boiled, and then to give
every man but a very little at a time: and by
this caution he preserved the men, who would otherwise
have killed themselves with that very food that was
given them on purpose to save their lives.
At the same time I ordered the mate
to go into the great cabin, and see what condition
the poor passengers were in; and if they were alive,
to comfort them, and give them what refreshment was
proper: and the surgeon gave him a large pitcher,
with some of the prepared broth which he had given
the mate that was on board, and which he did not question
would restore them gradually. I was not satisfied
with this; but, as I said above, having a great mind
to see the scene of misery which I knew the ship itself
would present me with, in a more lively manner than
I could have it by report, I took the captain of the
ship, as we now called him, with me, and went myself,
a little after, in their boat.
I found the poor men on board almost
in a tumult to get the victuals out of the boiler
before it was ready; but my mate observed his orders,
and kept a good guard at the cook-room door, and the
man he placed there, after using all possible persuasion
to have patience, kept them off by force; however,
he caused some biscuit-cakes to be dipped in the pot,
and softened with the liquor of the meat, which they
called brewis, and gave them every one some to stay
their stomachs, and told them it was for their own
safety that he was obliged to give them but little
at a time. But it was all in vain; and had I
not come on board, and their own commander and officers
with me, and with good words, and some threats also
of giving them no more, I believe they would have
broken into the cook-room by force, and torn the meat
out of the furnace—for words are indeed
of very small force to a hungry belly; however, we
pacified them, and fed them gradually and cautiously
at first, and the next time gave them more, and at
last filled their bellies, and the men did well enough.
But the misery of the poor passengers
in the cabin was of another nature, and far beyond
the rest; for as, first, the ship’s company
had so little for themselves, it was but too true that
they had at first kept them very low, and at last
totally neglected them: so that for six or seven
days it might be said they had really no food at all,
and for several days before very little. The
poor mother, who, as the men reported, was a woman
of sense and good breeding, had spared all she could
so affectionately for her son, that at last she entirely
sank under it; and when the mate of our ship went
in, she sat upon the floor on deck, with her back up
against the sides, between two chairs, which were
lashed fast, and her head sunk between her shoulders
like a corpse, though not quite dead. My mate
said all he could to revive and encourage her, and
with a spoon put some broth into her mouth.
She opened her lips, and lifted up one hand, but could
not speak: yet she understood what he said,
and made signs to him, intimating, that it was too
late for her, but pointed to her child, as if she
would have said they should take care of him.
However, the mate, who was exceedingly moved at the
sight, endeavoured to get some of the broth into her
mouth, and, as he said, got two or three spoonfuls
down—though I question whether he could
be sure of it or not; but it was too late, and she
died the same night.
The youth, who was preserved at the
price of his most affectionate mother’s life,
was not so far gone; yet he lay in a cabin bed, as
one stretched out, with hardly any life left in him.
He had a piece of an old glove in his mouth, having
eaten up the rest of it; however, being young, and
having more strength than his mother, the mate got
something down his throat, and he began sensibly to
revive; though by giving him, some time after, but
two or three spoonfuls extraordinary, he was very
sick, and brought it up again.
But the next care was the poor maid:
she lay all along upon the deck, hard by her mistress,
and just like one that had fallen down in a fit of
apoplexy, and struggled for life. Her limbs were
distorted; one of her hands was clasped round the frame
of the chair, and she gripped it so hard that we could
not easily make her let it go; her other arm lay over
her head, and her feet lay both together, set fast
against the frame of the cabin table: in short,
she lay just like one in the agonies of death, and
yet she was alive too. The poor creature was
not only starved with hunger, and terrified with the
thoughts of death, but, as the men told us afterwards,
was broken-hearted for her mistress, whom she saw dying
for two or three days before, and whom she loved most
tenderly. We knew not what to do with this poor
girl; for when our surgeon, who was a man of very
great knowledge and experience, had, with great application,
recovered her as to life, he had her upon his hands
still; for she was little less than distracted for
a considerable time after.
Whoever shall read these memorandums
must be desired to consider that visits at sea are
not like a journey into the country, where sometimes
people stay a week or a fortnight at a place.
Our business was to relieve this distressed ship’s
crew, but not lie by for them; and though they were
willing to steer the same course with us for some
days, yet we could carry no sail to keep pace with
a ship that had no masts. However, as their captain
begged of us to help him to set up a main-topmast,
and a kind of a topmast to his jury fore-mast, we
did, as it were, lie by him for three or four days;
and then, having given him five barrels of beef, a
barrel of pork, two hogsheads of biscuit, and a proportion
of peas, flour, and what other things we could spare;
and taking three casks of sugar, some rum, and some
pieces of eight from them for satisfaction, we left
them, taking on board with us, at their own earnest
request, the youth and the maid, and all their goods.
The young lad was about seventeen
years of age, a pretty, well-bred, modest, and sensible
youth, greatly dejected with the loss of his mother,
and also at having lost his father but a few months
before, at Barbadoes. He begged of the surgeon
to speak to me to take him out of the ship; for he
said the cruel fellows had murdered his mother:
and indeed so they had, that is to say, passively;
for they might have spared a small sustenance to the
poor helpless widow, though it had been but just enough
to keep her alive; but hunger knows no friend, no
relation, no justice, no right, and therefore is remorseless,
and capable of no compassion.
The surgeon told him how far we were
going, and that it would carry him away from all his
friends, and put him, perhaps, in as bad circumstances
almost as those we found him in, that is to say, starving
in the world. He said it mattered not whither
he went, if he was but delivered from the terrible
crew that he was among; that the captain (by which
he meant me, for he could know nothing of my nephew)
had saved his life, and he was sure would not hurt
him; and as for the maid, he was sure, if she came
to herself, she would be very thankful for it, let
us carry them where we would. The surgeon represented
the case so affectionately to me that I yielded, and
we took them both on board, with all their goods,
except eleven hogsheads of sugar, which could not be
removed or come at; and as the youth had a bill of
lading for them, I made his commander sign a writing,
obliging himself to go, as soon as he came to Bristol,
to one Mr. Rogers, a merchant there, to whom the youth
said he was related, and to deliver a letter which
I wrote to him, and all the goods he had belonging
to the deceased widow; which, I suppose, was not done,
for I could never learn that the ship came to Bristol,
but was, as is most probable, lost at sea, being in
so disabled a condition, and so far from any land,
that I am of opinion the first storm she met with
afterwards she might founder, for she was leaky, and
had damage in her hold when we met with her.
I was now in the latitude of 19 degrees
32 minutes, and had hitherto a tolerable voyage as
to weather, though at first the winds had been contrary.
I shall trouble nobody with the little incidents
of wind, weather, currents, &c., on the rest of our
voyage; but to shorten my story, shall observe that
I came to my old habitation, the island, on the 10th
of April 1695. It was with no small difficulty
that I found the place; for as I came to it and went
to it before on the south and east side of the island,
coming from the Brazils, so now, coming in between
the main and the island, and having no chart for the
coast, nor any landmark, I did not know it when I
saw it, or, know whether I saw it or not. We
beat about a great while, and went on shore on several
islands in the mouth of the great river Orinoco, but
none for my purpose; only this I learned by my coasting
the shore, that I was under one great mistake before,
viz. that the continent which I thought I saw
from the island I lived in was really no continent,
but a long island, or rather a ridge of islands, reaching
from one to the other side of the extended mouth of
that great river; and that the savages who came to
my island were not properly those which we call Caribbees,
but islanders, and other barbarians of the same kind,
who inhabited nearer to our side than the rest.
In short, I visited several of these
islands to no purpose; some I found were inhabited,
and some were not; on one of them I found some Spaniards,
and thought they had lived there; but speaking with
them, found they had a sloop lying in a small creek
hard by, and came thither to make salt, and to catch
some pearl-mussels if they could; but that they belonged
to the Isle de Trinidad, which lay farther north,
in the latitude of 10 and 11 degrees.
Thus coasting from one island to another,
sometimes with the ship, sometimes with the Frenchman’s
shallop, which we had found a convenient boat, and
therefore kept her with their very good will, at length
I came fair on the south side of my island, and presently
knew the very countenance of the place: so I
brought the ship safe to an anchor, broadside with
the little creek where my old habitation was.
As soon as I saw the place I called for Friday, and
asked him if he knew where he was? He looked
about a little, and presently clapping his hands,
cried, “Oh yes, Oh there, Oh yes, Oh there!”
pointing to our old habitation, and fell dancing and
capering like a mad fellow; and I had much ado to keep
him from jumping into the sea to swim ashore to the
place.
“Well, Friday,” says I,
“do you think we shall find anybody here or
no? and do you think we shall see your father?”
The fellow stood mute as a stock a good while; but
when I named his father, the poor affectionate creature
looked dejected, and I could see the tears run down
his face very plentifully. “What is the
matter, Friday? are you troubled because you may see
your father?” “No, no,” says he,
shaking his head, “no see him more: no,
never more see him again.” “Why
so, Friday? how do you know that?” “Oh
no, Oh no,” says Friday, “he long ago
die, long ago; he much old man.” “Well,
well, Friday, you don’t know; but shall we see
any one else, then?” The fellow, it seems, had
better eyes than I, and he points to the hill just
above my old house; and though we lay half a league
off, he cries out, “We see! we see! yes, we
see much man there, and there, and there.”
I looked, but I saw nobody, no, not with a perspective
glass, which was, I suppose, because I could not hit
the place: for the fellow was right, as I found
upon inquiry the next day; and there were five or
six men all together, who stood to look at the ship,
not knowing what to think of us.
As soon as Friday told me he saw people,
I caused the English ancient to be spread, and fired
three guns, to give them notice we were friends; and
in about a quarter of an hour after we perceived a
smoke arise from the side of the creek; so I immediately
ordered the boat out, taking Friday with me, and hanging
out a white flag, I went directly on shore, taking
with me the young friar I mentioned, to whom I had
told the story of my living there, and the manner
of it, and every particular both of myself and those
I left there, and who was on that account extremely
desirous to go with me. We had, besides, about
sixteen men well armed, if we had found any new guests
there which we did not know of; but we had no need
of weapons.
As we went on shore upon the tide
of flood, near high water, we rowed directly into
the creek; and the first man I fixed my eye upon was
the Spaniard whose life I had saved, and whom I knew
by his face perfectly well: as to his habit,
I shall describe it afterwards. I ordered nobody
to go on shore at first but myself; but there was
no keeping Friday in the boat, for the affectionate
creature had spied his father at a distance, a good
way off the Spaniards, where, indeed, I saw nothing
of him; and if they had not let him go ashore, he
would have jumped into the sea. He was no sooner
on shore, but he flew away to his father like an arrow
out of a bow. It would have made any man shed
tears, in spite of the firmest resolution, to have
seen the first transports of this poor fellow’s
joy when he came to his father: how he embraced
him, kissed him, stroked his face, took him up in
his arms, set him down upon a tree, and lay down by
him; then stood and looked at him, as any one would
look at a strange picture, for a quarter of an hour
together; then lay down on the ground, and stroked
his legs, and kissed them, and then got up again and
stared at him; one would have thought the fellow bewitched.
But it would have made a dog laugh the next day to
see how his passion ran out another way: in
the morning he walked along the shore with his father
several hours, always leading him by the hand, as
if he had been a lady; and every now and then he would
come to the boat to fetch something or other for him,
either a lump of sugar, a dram, a biscuit, or something
or other that was good. In the afternoon his
frolics ran another way; for then he would set the
old man down upon the ground, and dance about him,
and make a thousand antic gestures; and all the while
he did this he would be talking to him, and telling
him one story or another of his travels, and of what
had happened to him abroad to divert him. In
short, if the same filial affection was to be found
in Christians to their parents in our part of the
world, one would be tempted to say there would hardly
have been any need of the fifth commandment.
But this is a digression: I
return to my landing. It would be needless to
take notice of all the ceremonies and civilities that
the Spaniards received me with. The first Spaniard,
whom, as I said, I knew very well, was he whose life
I had saved. He came towards the boat, attended
by one more, carrying a flag of truce also; and he
not only did not know me at first, but he had no thoughts,
no notion of its being me that was come, till I spoke
to him. “Seignior,” said I, in Portuguese,
“do you not know me?” At which he spoke
not a word, but giving his musket to the man that
was with him, threw his arms abroad, saying something
in Spanish that I did not perfectly hear, came forward
and embraced me, telling me he was inexcusable not
to know that face again that he had once seen, as
of an angel from heaven sent to save his life; he
said abundance of very handsome things, as a well-bred
Spaniard always knows how, and then, beckoning to
the person that attended him, bade him go and call
out his comrades. He then asked me if I would
walk to my old habitation, where he would give me possession
of my own house again, and where I should see they
had made but mean improvements. I walked along
with him, but, alas! I could no more find the
place than if I had never been there; for they had
planted so many trees, and placed them in such a position,
so thick and close to one another, and in ten years’
time they were grown so big, that the place was inaccessible,
except by such windings and blind ways as they themselves
only, who made them, could find.
I asked them what put them upon all
these fortifications; he told me I would say there
was need enough of it when they had given me an account
how they had passed their time since their arriving
in the island, especially after they had the misfortune
to find that I was gone. He told me he could
not but have some pleasure in my good fortune, when
he heard that I was gone in a good ship, and to my
satisfaction; and that he had oftentimes a strong persuasion
that one time or other he should see me again, but
nothing that ever befell him in his life, he said,
was so surprising and afflicting to him at first as
the disappointment he was under when he came back
to the island and found I was not there.
As to the three barbarians (so he
called them) that were left behind, and of whom, he
said, he had a long story to tell me, the Spaniards
all thought themselves much better among the savages,
only that their number was so small: “And,”
says he, “had they been strong enough, we had
been all long ago in purgatory;” and with that
he crossed himself on the breast. “But,
sir,” says he, “I hope you will not be
displeased when I shall tell you how, forced by necessity,
we were obliged for our own preservation to disarm
them, and make them our subjects, as they would not
be content with being moderately our masters, but
would be our murderers.” I answered I
was afraid of it when I left them there, and nothing
troubled me at my parting from the island but that
they were not come back, that I might have put them
in possession of everything first, and left the others
in a state of subjection, as they deserved; but if
they had reduced them to it I was very glad, and should
be very far from finding any fault with it; for I knew
they were a parcel of refractory, ungoverned villains,
and were fit for any manner of mischief.
While I was saying this, the man came
whom he had sent back, and with him eleven more.
In the dress they were in it was impossible to guess
what nation they were of; but he made all clear, both
to them and to me. First, he turned to me, and
pointing to them, said, “These, sir, are some
of the gentlemen who owe their lives to you;”
and then turning to them, and pointing to me, he let
them know who I was; upon which they all came up,
one by one, not as if they had been sailors, and ordinary
fellows, and the like, but really as if they had been
ambassadors or noblemen, and I a monarch or great
conqueror: their behaviour was, to the last degree,
obliging and courteous, and yet mixed with a manly,
majestic gravity, which very well became them; and,
in short, they had so much more manners than I, that
I scarce knew how to receive their civilities, much
less how to return them in kind.
The history of their coming to, and
conduct in, the island after my going away is so very
remarkable, and has so many incidents which the former
part of my relation will help to understand, and which
will in most of the particulars, refer to the account
I have already given, that I cannot but commit them,
with great delight, to the reading of those that come
after me.
In order to do this as intelligibly
as I can, I must go back to the circumstances in which
I left the island, and the persons on it, of whom
I am to speak. And first, it is necessary to
repeat that I had sent away Friday’s father
and the Spaniard (the two whose lives I had rescued
from the savages) in a large canoe to the main, as
I then thought it, to fetch over the Spaniard’s
companions that he left behind him, in order to save
them from the like calamity that he had been in, and
in order to succour them for the present; and that,
if possible, we might together find some way for our
deliverance afterwards. When I sent them away
I had no visible appearance of, or the least room
to hope for, my own deliverance, any more than I had
twenty years before—much less had I any
foreknowledge of what afterwards happened, I mean,
of an English ship coming on shore there to fetch
me off; and it could not be but a very great surprise
to them, when they came back, not only to find that
I was gone, but to find three strangers left on the
spot, possessed of all that I had left behind me,
which would otherwise have been their own.
The first thing, however, which I
inquired into, that I might begin where I left off,
was of their own part; and I desired the Spaniard
would give me a particular account of his voyage back
to his countrymen with the boat, when I sent him to
fetch them over. He told me there was little
variety in that part, for nothing remarkable happened
to them on the way, having had very calm weather and
a smooth sea. As for his countrymen, it could
not be doubted, he said, but that they were overjoyed
to see him (it seems he was the principal man among
them, the captain of the vessel they had been shipwrecked
in having been dead some time): they were, he
said, the more surprised to see him, because they knew
that he was fallen into the hands of the savages,
who, they were satisfied, would devour him as they
did all the rest of their prisoners; that when he
told them the story of his deliverance, and in what
manner he was furnished for carrying them away, it
was like a dream to them, and their astonishment,
he said, was somewhat like that of Joseph’s
brethren when he told them who he was, and the story
of his exaltation in Pharaoh’s court; but when
he showed them the arms, the powder, the ball, the
provisions that he brought them for their journey
or voyage, they were restored to themselves, took a
just share of the joy of their deliverance, and immediately
prepared to come away with him.
Their first business was to get canoes;
and in this they were obliged not to stick so much
upon the honesty of it, but to trespass upon their
friendly savages, and to borrow two large canoes,
or periaguas, on pretence of going out a-fishing, or
for pleasure. In these they came away the next
morning. It seems they wanted no time to get
themselves ready; for they had neither clothes nor
provisions, nor anything in the world but what they
had on them, and a few roots to eat, of which they
used to make their bread. They were in all three
weeks absent; and in that time, unluckily for them,
I had the occasion offered for my escape, as I mentioned
in the other part, and to get off from the island,
leaving three of the most impudent, hardened, ungoverned,
disagreeable villains behind me that any man could
desire to meet with—to the poor Spaniards’
great grief and disappointment.
The only just thing the rogues did
was, that when the Spaniards came ashore, they gave
my letter to them, and gave them provisions, and other
relief, as I had ordered them to do; also they gave
them the long paper of directions which I had left
with them, containing the particular methods which
I took for managing every part of my life there; the
way I baked my bread, bred up tame goats, and planted
my corn; how I cured my grapes, made my pots, and,
in a word, everything I did. All this being
written down, they gave to the Spaniards (two of them
understood English well enough): nor did they
refuse to accommodate the Spaniards with anything else,
for they agreed very well for some time. They
gave them an equal admission into the house or cave,
and they began to live very sociably; and the head
Spaniard, who had seen pretty much of my methods,
together with Friday’s father, managed all their
affairs; but as for the Englishmen, they did nothing
but ramble about the island, shoot parrots, and catch
tortoises; and when they came home at night, the Spaniards
provided their suppers for them.
The Spaniards would have been satisfied
with this had the others but let them alone, which,
however, they could not find in their hearts to do
long: but, like the dog in the manger, they would
not eat themselves, neither would they let the others
eat. The differences, nevertheless, were at
first but trivial, and such as are not worth relating,
but at last it broke out into open war: and it
began with all the rudeness and insolence that can
be imagined—without reason, without provocation,
contrary to nature, and indeed to common sense; and
though, it is true, the first relation of it came
from the Spaniards themselves, whom I may call the
accusers, yet when I came to examine the fellows they
could not deny a word of it.
But before I come to the particulars
of this part, I must supply a defect in my former
relation; and this was, I forgot to set down among
the rest, that just as we were weighing the anchor
to set sail, there happened a little quarrel on board
of our ship, which I was once afraid would have turned
to a second mutiny; nor was it appeased till the captain,
rousing up his courage, and taking us all to his assistance,
parted them by force, and making two of the most refractory
fellows prisoners, he laid them in irons: and
as they had been active in the former disorders, and
let fall some ugly, dangerous words the second time,
he threatened to carry them in irons to England, and
have them hanged there for mutiny and running away
with the ship. This, it seems, though the captain
did not intend to do it, frightened some other men
in the ship; and some of them had put it into the
head of the rest that the captain only gave them good
words for the present, till they should come to same
English port, and that then they should be all put
into gaol, and tried for their lives. The mate
got intelligence of this, and acquainted us with it,
upon which it was desired that I, who still passed
for a great man among them, should go down with the
mate and satisfy the men, and tell them that they
might be assured, if they behaved well the rest of
the voyage, all they had done for the time past should
be pardoned. So I went, and after passing my
honour’s word to them they appeared easy, and
the more so when I caused the two men that were in
irons to be released and forgiven.
But this mutiny had brought us to
an anchor for that night; the wind also falling calm
next morning, we found that our two men who had been
laid in irons had stolen each of them a musket and
some other weapons (what powder or shot they had we
knew not), and had taken the ship’s pinnace,
which was not yet hauled up, and run away with her
to their companions in roguery on shore. As soon
as we found this, I ordered the long-boat on shore,
with twelve men and the mate, and away they went to
seek the rogues; but they could neither find them
nor any of the rest, for they all fled into the woods
when they saw the boat coming on shore. The mate
was once resolved, in justice to their roguery, to
have destroyed their plantations, burned all their
household stuff and furniture, and left them to shift
without it; but having no orders, he let it all alone,
left everything as he found it, and bringing the pinnace
way, came on board without them. These two men
made their number five; but the other three villains
were so much more wicked than they, that after they
had been two or three days together they turned the
two newcomers out of doors to shift for themselves,
and would have nothing to do with them; nor could
they for a good while be persuaded to give them any
food: as for the Spaniards, they were not yet
come.
When the Spaniards came first on shore,
the business began to go forward: the Spaniards
would have persuaded the three English brutes to have
taken in their countrymen again, that, as they said,
they might be all one family; but they would not hear
of it, so the two poor fellows lived by themselves;
and finding nothing but industry and application would
make them live comfortably, they pitched their tents
on the north shore of the island, but a little more
to the west, to be out of danger of the savages, who
always landed on the east parts of the island.
Here they built them two huts, one to lodge in, and
the other to lay up their magazines and stores in;
and the Spaniards having given them some corn for seed,
and some of the peas which I had left them, they dug,
planted, and enclosed, after the pattern I had set
for them all, and began to live pretty well.
Their first crop of corn was on the ground; and though
it was but a little bit of land which they had dug
up at first, having had but a little time, yet it
was enough to relieve them, and find them with bread
and other eatables; and one of the fellows being the
cook’s mate of the ship, was very ready at making
soup, puddings, and such other preparations as the
rice and the milk, and such little flesh as they got,
furnished him to do.
They were going on in this little
thriving position when the three unnatural rogues,
their own countrymen too, in mere humour, and to insult
them, came and bullied them, and told them the island
was theirs: that the governor, meaning me, had
given them the possession of it, and nobody else had
any right to it; and that they should build no houses
upon their ground unless they would pay rent for them.
The two men, thinking they were jesting at first,
asked them to come in and sit down, and see what fine
houses they were that they had built, and to tell
them what rent they demanded; and one of them merrily
said if they were the ground-landlords, he hoped if
they built tenements upon their land, and made improvements,
they would, according to the custom of landlords,
grant a long lease: and desired they would get
a scrivener to draw the writings. One of the
three, cursing and raging, told them they should see
they were not in jest; and going to a little place
at a distance, where the honest men had made a fire
to dress their victuals, he takes a firebrand, and
claps it to the outside of their hut, and set it on
fire: indeed, it would have been all burned
down in a few minutes if one of the two had not run
to the fellow, thrust him away, and trod the fire
out with his feet, and that not without some difficulty
too.
The fellow was in such a rage at the
honest man’s thrusting him away, that he returned
upon him, with a pole he had in his hand, and had
not the man avoided the blow very nimbly, and run into
the hut, he had ended his days at once. His
comrade, seeing the danger they were both in, ran
after him, and immediately they came both out with
their muskets, and the man that was first struck at
with the pole knocked the fellow down that began the
quarrel with the stock of his musket, and that before
the other two could come to help him; and then, seeing
the rest come at them, they stood together, and presenting
the other ends of their pieces to them, bade them
stand off.
The others had firearms with them
too; but one of the two honest men, bolder than his
comrade, and made desperate by his danger, told them
if they offered to move hand or foot they were dead
men, and boldly commanded them to lay down their arms.
They did not, indeed, lay down their arms, but seeing
him so resolute, it brought them to a parley, and
they consented to take their wounded man with them
and be gone: and, indeed, it seems the fellow
was wounded sufficiently with the blow. However,
they were much in the wrong, since they had the advantage,
that they did not disarm them effectually, as they
might have done, and have gone immediately to the
Spaniards, and given them an account how the rogues
had treated them; for the three villains studied nothing
but revenge, and every day gave them some intimation
that they did so.