I was very angry with my nephew, the
captain, and indeed with all the men, but with him
in particular, as well for his acting so out of his
duty as a commander of the ship, and having the charge
of the voyage upon him, as in his prompting, rather
than cooling, the rage of his blind men in so bloody
and cruel an enterprise. My nephew answered
me very respectfully, but told me that when he saw
the body of the poor seaman whom they had murdered
in so cruel and barbarous a manner, he was not master
of himself, neither could he govern his passion; he
owned he should not have done so, as he was commander
of the ship; but as he was a man, and nature moved
him, he could not bear it. As for the rest of
the men, they were not subject to me at all, and they
knew it well enough; so they took no notice of my
dislike. The next day we set sail, so we never
heard any more of it. Our men differed in the
account of the number they had killed; but according
to the best of their accounts, put all together, they
killed or destroyed about one hundred and fifty people,
men, women, and children, and left not a house standing
in the town. As for the poor fellow Tom Jeffry,
as he was quite dead (for his throat was so cut that
his head was half off), it would do him no service
to bring him away; so they only took him down from
the tree, where he was hanging by one hand.
However just our men thought this
action, I was against them in it, and I always, after
that time, told them God would blast the voyage; for
I looked upon all the blood they shed that night to
be murder in them. For though it is true that
they had killed Tom Jeffry, yet Jeffry was the aggressor,
had broken the truce, and had ill-used a young woman
of theirs, who came down to them innocently, and on
the faith of the public capitulation.
The boatswain defended this quarrel
when we were afterwards on board. He said it
was true that we seemed to break the truce, but really
had not; and that the war was begun the night before
by the natives themselves, who had shot at us, and
killed one of our men without any just provocation;
so that as we were in a capacity to fight them now,
we might also be in a capacity to do ourselves justice
upon them in an extraordinary manner; that though the
poor man had taken a little liberty with the girl,
he ought not to have been murdered, and that in such
a villainous manner: and that they did nothing
but what was just and what the laws of God allowed
to be done to murderers. One would think this
should have been enough to have warned us against
going on shore amongst the heathens and barbarians;
but it is impossible to make mankind wise but at their
own expense, and their experience seems to be always
of most use to them when it is dearest bought.
We were now bound to the Gulf of Persia,
and from thence to the coast of Coromandel, only to
touch at Surat; but the chief of the supercargo’s
design lay at the Bay of Bengal, where, if he missed
his business outward-bound, he was to go out to China,
and return to the coast as he came home. The
first disaster that befell us was in the Gulf of Persia,
where five of our men, venturing on shore on the Arabian
side of the gulf, were surrounded by the Arabians,
and either all killed or carried away into slavery;
the rest of the boat’s crew were not able to
rescue them, and had but just time to get off their
boat. I began to upbraid them with the just
retribution of Heaven in this case; but the boatswain
very warmly told me, he thought I went further in
my censures than I could show any warrant for in Scripture;
and referred to Luke xiii. 4, where our Saviour intimates
that those men on whom the Tower of Siloam fell were
not sinners above all the Galileans; but that which
put me to silence in the case was, that not one of
these five men who were now lost were of those who
went on shore to the massacre of Madagascar, so I
always called it, though our men could not bear to
hear the word massacre with any patience.
But my frequent preaching to them
on this subject had worse consequences than I expected;
and the boatswain, who had been the head of the attempt,
came up boldly to me one time, and told me he found
that I brought that affair continually upon the stage;
that I made unjust reflections upon it, and had used
the men very ill on that account, and himself in particular;
that as I was but a passenger, and had no command
in the ship, or concern in the voyage, they were not
obliged to bear it; that they did not know but I might
have some ill-design in my head, and perhaps to call
them to an account for it when they came to England;
and that, therefore, unless I would resolve to have
done with it, and also not to concern myself any further
with him, or any of his affairs, he would leave the
ship; for he did not think it safe to sail with me
among them.
I heard him patiently enough till
he had done, and then told him that I confessed I
had all along opposed the massacre of Madagascar,
and that I had, on all occasions, spoken my mind freely
about it, though not more upon him than any of the
rest; that as to having no command in the ship, that
was true; nor did I exercise any authority, only took
the liberty of speaking my mind in things which publicly
concerned us all; and what concern I had in the voyage
was none of his business; that I was a considerable
owner in the ship. In that claim I conceived
I had a right to speak even further than I had done,
and would not be accountable to him or any one else,
and began to be a little warm with him. He made
but little reply to me at that time, and I thought
the affair had been over. We were at this time
in the road at Bengal; and being willing to see the
place, I went on shore with the supercargo in the
ship’s boat to divert myself; and towards evening
was preparing to go on board, when one of the men
came to me, and told me he would not have me trouble
myself to come down to the boat, for they had orders
not to carry me on board any more. Any one may
guess what a surprise I was in at so insolent a message;
and I asked the man who bade him deliver that message
to me? He told me the coxswain.
I immediately found out the supercargo,
and told him the story, adding that I foresaw there
would be a mutiny in the ship; and entreated him to
go immediately on board and acquaint the captain of
it. But I might have spared this intelligence,
for before I had spoken to him on shore the matter
was effected on board. The boatswain, the gunner,
the carpenter, and all the inferior officers, as soon
as I was gone off in the boat, came up, and desired
to speak with the captain; and then the boatswain,
making a long harangue, and repeating all he had said
to me, told the captain that as I was now gone peaceably
on shore, they were loath to use any violence with
me, which, if I had not gone on shore, they would
otherwise have done, to oblige me to have gone.
They therefore thought fit to tell him that as they
shipped themselves to serve in the ship under his
command, they would perform it well and faithfully;
but if I would not quit the ship, or the captain oblige
me to quit it, they would all leave the ship, and sail
no further with him; and at that word all he
turned his face towards the main-mast, which was,
it seems, a signal agreed on, when the seamen, being
got together there, cried out, “One and
all! One and all!”
My nephew, the captain, was a man
of spirit, and of great presence of mind; and though
he was surprised, yet he told them calmly that he
would consider of the matter, but that he could do
nothing in it till he had spoken to me about it.
He used some arguments with them, to show them the
unreasonableness and injustice of the thing, but it
was all in vain; they swore, and shook hands round
before his face, that they would all go on shore unless
he would engage to them not to suffer me to come any
more on board the ship.
This was a hard article upon him,
who knew his obligation to me, and did not know how
I might take it. So he began to talk smartly
to them; told them that I was a very considerable owner
of the ship, and that if ever they came to England
again it would cost them very dear; that the ship
was mine, and that he could not put me out of it;
and that he would rather lose the ship, and the voyage
too, than disoblige me so much: so they might
do as they pleased. However, he would go on
shore and talk with me, and invited the boatswain
to go with him, and perhaps they might accommodate
the matter with me. But they all rejected the
proposal, and said they would have nothing to do with
me any more; and if I came on board they would all
go on shore. “Well,” said the captain,
“if you are all of this mind, let me go on shore
and talk with him.” So away he came to
me with this account, a little after the message had
been brought to me from the coxswain.
I was very glad to see my nephew,
I must confess; for I was not without apprehensions
that they would confine him by violence, set sail,
and run away with the ship; and then I had been stripped
naked in a remote country, having nothing to help myself;
in short, I had been in a worse case than when I was
alone in the island. But they had not come to
that length, it seems, to my satisfaction; and when
my nephew told me what they had said to him, and how
they had sworn and shook hands that they would, one
and all, leave the ship if I was suffered to come
on board, I told him he should not be concerned at
it at all, for I would stay on shore. I only
desired he would take care and send me all my necessary
things on shore, and leave me a sufficient sum of
money, and I would find my way to England as well
as I could. This was a heavy piece of news to
my nephew, but there was no way to help it but to comply;
so, in short, he went on board the ship again, and
satisfied the men that his uncle had yielded to their
importunity, and had sent for his goods from on board
the ship; so that the matter was over in a few hours,
the men returned to their duty, and I began to consider
what course I should steer.
I was now alone in a most remote part
of the world, for I was near three thousand leagues
by sea farther off from England than I was at my island;
only, it is true, I might travel here by land over
the Great Mogul’s country to Surat, might go
from thence to Bassora by sea, up the Gulf of Persia,
and take the way of the caravans, over the desert
of Arabia, to Aleppo and Scanderoon; from thence by
sea again to Italy, and so overland into France.
I had another way before me, which was to wait for
some English ships, which were coming to Bengal from
Achin, on the island of Sumatra, and get passage on
board them from England. But as I came hither
without any concern with the East Indian Company,
so it would be difficult to go from hence without
their licence, unless with great favour of the captains
of the ships, or the company’s factors:
and to both I was an utter stranger.
Here I had the mortification to see
the ship set sail without me; however, my nephew left
me two servants, or rather one companion and one servant;
the first was clerk to the purser, whom he engaged
to go with me, and the other was his own servant.
I then took a good lodging in the house of an Englishwoman,
where several merchants lodged, some French, two Italians,
or rather Jews, and one Englishman. Here I stayed
above nine months, considering what course to take.
I had some English goods with me of value, and a
considerable sum of money; my nephew furnishing me
with a thousand pieces of eight, and a letter of credit
for more if I had occasion, that I might not be straitened,
whatever might happen. I quickly disposed of
my goods to advantage; and, as I originally intended,
I bought here some very good diamonds, which, of all
other things, were the most proper for me in my present
circumstances, because I could always carry my whole
estate about me.
During my stay here many proposals
were made for my return to England, but none falling
out to my mind, the English merchant who lodged with
me, and whom I had contracted an intimate acquaintance
with, came to me one morning, saying: “Countryman,
I have a project to communicate, which, as it suits
with my thoughts, may, for aught I know, suit with
yours also, when you shall have thoroughly considered
it. Here we are posted, you by accident and
I by my own choice, in a part of the world very remote
from our own country; but it is in a country where,
by us who understand trade and business, a great deal
of money is to be got. If you will put one thousand
pounds to my one thousand pounds, we will hire a ship
here, the first we can get to our minds. You
shall be captain, I’ll be merchant, and we’ll
go a trading voyage to China; for what should we stand
still for? The whole world is in motion; why
should we be idle?”
I liked this proposal very well; and
the more so because it seemed to be expressed with
so much goodwill. In my loose, unhinged circumstances,
I was the fitter to embrace a proposal for trade, or
indeed anything else. I might perhaps say with
some truth, that if trade was not my element, rambling
was; and no proposal for seeing any part of the world
which I had never seen before could possibly come
amiss to me. It was, however, some time before
we could get a ship to our minds, and when we had
got a vessel, it was not easy to get English sailors—that
is to say, so many as were necessary to govern the
voyage and manage the sailors which we should pick
up there. After some time we got a mate, a boatswain,
and a gunner, English; a Dutch carpenter, and three
foremast men. With these we found we could do
well enough, having Indian seamen, such as they were,
to make up.
When all was ready we set sail for
Achin, in the island of Sumatra, and from thence to
Siam, where we exchanged some of our wares for opium
and some arrack; the first a commodity which bears
a great price among the Chinese, and which at that
time was much wanted there. Then we went up
to Saskan, were eight months out, and on our return
to Bengal I was very well satisfied with my adventure.
Our people in England often admire how officers, which
the company send into India, and the merchants which
generally stay there, get such very great estates
as they do, and sometimes come home worth sixty or
seventy thousand pounds at a time; but it is little
matter for wonder, when we consider the innumerable
ports and places where they have a free commerce;
indeed, at the ports where the English ships come
there is such great and constant demands for the growth
of all other countries, that there is a certain vent
for the returns, as well as a market abroad for the
goods carried out.
I got so much money by my first adventure,
and such an insight into the method of getting more,
that had I been twenty years younger, I should have
been tempted to have stayed here, and sought no farther
for making my fortune; but what was all this to a man
upwards of threescore, that was rich enough, and came
abroad more in obedience to a restless desire of seeing
the world than a covetous desire of gaining by it?
A restless desire it really was, for when I was at
home I was restless to go abroad; and when I was abroad
I was restless to be at home. I say, what was
this gain to me? I was rich enough already,
nor had I any uneasy desires about getting more money;
therefore the profit of the voyage to me was of no
great force for the prompting me forward to further
undertakings. Hence, I thought that by this voyage
I had made no progress at all, because I was come
back, as I might call it, to the place from whence
I came, as to a home: whereas, my eye, like that
which Solomon speaks of, was never satisfied with
seeing. I was come into a part of the world
which I was never in before, and that part, in particular,
which I heard much of, and was resolved to see as
much of it as I could: and then I thought I might
say I had seen all the world that was worth seeing.
But my fellow-traveller and I had
different notions: I acknowledge his were the
more suited to the end of a merchant’s life:
who, when he is abroad upon adventures, is wise to
stick to that, as the best thing for him, which he
is likely to get the most money by. On the other
hand, mine was the notion of a mad, rambling boy, that
never cares to see a thing twice over. But this
was not all: I had a kind of impatience upon
me to be nearer home, and yet an unsettled resolution
which way to go. In the interval of these consultations,
my friend, who was always upon the search for business,
proposed another voyage among the Spice Islands, to
bring home a loading of cloves from the Manillas,
or thereabouts.
We were not long in preparing for
this voyage; the chief difficulty was in bringing
me to come into it. However, at last, nothing
else offering, and as sitting still, to me especially,
was the unhappiest part of life, I resolved on this
voyage too, which we made very successfully, touching
at Borneo and several other islands, and came home
in about five months, when we sold our spices, with
very great profit, to the Persian merchants, who carried
them away to the Gulf. My friend, when we made
up this account, smiled at me: “Well,
now,” said he, with a sort of friendly rebuke
on my indolent temper, “is not this better than
walking about here, like a man with nothing to do,
and spending our time in staring at the nonsense and
ignorance of the Pagans?”— “Why,
truly,” said I, “my friend, I think it
is, and I begin to be a convert to the principles
of merchandising; but I must tell you, by the way,
you do not know what I am doing; for if I once conquer
my backwardness, and embark heartily, old as I am,
I shall harass you up and down the world till I tire
you; for I shall pursue it so eagerly, I shall never
let you lie still.”