Kitabı oxu: «Fanny Campbell, The Female Pirate Captain», səhifə 10
‘Well, it was not long before we were back again, laying at our anchorage, and soon the boatswain’s whistle summoned us, just at nightfall the next day, most unwelcomely.
‘“All hands to witness punishment, ahoy.”
‘The man who had betrayed us, had confessed his guilt, the payment of his treachery was found on his person. The crew were all at their stations, all save six seamen chosen by lot, who stood apart from their companions; these were to be the executioners of their messmate. The ship was as still as death; the wounded below had hushed their groans, and the tick of the captain’s watch might be heard at any part of the quarter deck. The miserable man who was now to suffer, stood upon a gun, his arms confined behind him, and a rope around his neck. The rope was rove through a block at the end of the fore yard arm, and reaching down to the deck again, the other end was placed in the hands of the six men chosen by lot.
‘Our captain looked at the arrangements, and after a few moments, we all the time expecting the word to swing him off, he said: —
‘“My men, next to mutiny I know of no blacker or more accursed crime than treachery. That man has betrayed us – may Heaven forgive him, as I do now. He was seduced from his duty in an evil hour, while under the effects of liquor; he is now penitent, and you will see how bravely he will die – you have had related to you all the peculiarities of the case, which, I think, has many extenuating points; you are his jurors – shall he die? Shall we send your old messmate into eternity? Speak, my men!”
‘“No, no!” said the crew, with one voice; “if the captain forgives him, that’s enough. Let him be spared.”
‘“Blow me,” thought I, “if I don’t think a man who would betray such a commander and such a ship, must find punishment enough in overhauling the log of his own conscience, without our sending him to soundings after this fashion.”
‘The man was forgiven, and, damme, messmates, if he didn’t feel it, too,’ said Skyscraper, with no little degree of feeling.
‘Well, you see, the captain knew very well that this last fight with a King’s cruiser must put a stop to our game, so we run down to the French coast, and the pretty little Dolphin was sold to the Mounsers for a pretty round sum, which was equally divided among us all. Well, now you see, I happen to know something about our captain after that, though I never sailed with him again. He loved the sea, and so went to London and engaged as captain in the West India trade, and in a few years he settled in America.
‘Well, you see, messmates, he was a Scotchman by birth, and didn’t owe any great love to England, so, on the breaking out of the long war that is but lately fairly ended, he offered his services to the Continental Congress, whose cause he espoused. He was soon appointed captain of a noble vessel, the first in the American navy. With this vessel, and others with which he was entrusted as commander, he gained some most brilliant naval victories. And let me tell you, messmates, through his whole service he had one faithful follower who would never quit him, and whose protecting arm twice saved his life in the memorable battle of the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis, the former of which our old captain commanded. Now, messmates, that man was the pardoned criminal of the Dolphin Lugger.
‘Of the captain – Congress passed a vote of thanks to him for his services, and conferred upon him the highest rank in his profession, within its gift, and his name will long be remembered by the nation in its future prosperity.
‘Why, Sky Scraper, who the deuce was this captain?’ asked one.
‘Aye, what’s his name?’ put in several at the same time.
‘I’ll tell you, messmates,’ said the old tar, reverently uncovering his head as he mentioned the name; ‘it was Admiral JOHN PAUL JONES!’
Fanny and her husband had heard this chapter in the life of the great naval hero with no small emotion. There was a point involved in it which nearly touched their own feelings, and the circumstances relative to the pardoned Englishman on board her own brig the Constance, were brought strongly to her mind.
A drive upon the island was arranged for the coming day. Lovell and his wife having promised themselves this pleasure for several days previous.
CHAPTER X
It was a fine, clear day, that on which they started for a ride upon this beautiful island. The whole day was passed in visiting its wild and romantic scenery, and its soft and verdant fields, its ruins of old faded castles, and, in short, time flew so fast with them while they were thus employed, that night overtook them far from the shore, and indeed in a road and route where they found themselves quite bewildered as to the proper course.
‘I have been thoughtless,’ said Lovell, ‘to let the time pass thus unheeded, and find me here at this hour.’
‘Oh, we have nothing to fear here, surely.’
‘I don’t know, dearest, in olden times, and indeed till quite lately, this island has been the very rendezvous of lawless and wicked characters.’
At this moment a man rushed from a thicket and presented a pistol at Lovell.
‘What would you have of me,’ he asked.
‘Hand over the money then, and go on your way,’ said the robber, approaching to the steps of the vehicle as if to receive it.
Lovell waited until he was fairly within reach, when he threw himself from his position with the whole weight of his body full upon the robber, bearing him suddenly to the ground. As he fell, however, he discharged his pistol, but it went wide of its air as regarded Lovell, just grazing Fanny’s head, which together with the report, it being so very close to her head, and pointed directly at her, stunned her so as to render her insensible for some time.
The struggle between Lovell and the robber was but for a moment. The powerful frame of the former was too much for his adversary who stunned and bleeding from his fall, was soon senseless. Lovell was a person of a peculiar temperament; he was not one to let off an offender in any case when he could mete out to him his due. – Therefore after reviving Fanny and convincing himself that she was not seriously hurt, he bound the still senseless robber head and foot, and threw him into the back part of the vehicle, a sort of waggon in which they rode, and then hastened on happy to find a shelter.
This he soon met with in the shape of a neat and comfortable cottage, where he found no trouble in obtaining assistance and such accommodation as he so much needed. Fanny was kindly attended by the good woman of the house, who said her husband would be home soon, that he was a fisherman and had not yet got home from a two days cruise. Lovell had the robber also cared for, and found on examination that he was injured even more seriously than he had at first supposed, his head having received a severe contusion in the fall. He dressed his wounds himself, being somewhat versed in such matters, and left him to rest until morning.
Fanny soon recovered from her slight injury; indeed the very next morning she was down in the lower room of the cottage surrounded by the rosy cheeked children and grown up boys, who called the matron mother, and this their home. The thrift and industry that reigned there struck Lovell and his wife with great interest, for it was remarkable. The children, five in number, were cloathed coarsely but with the utmost neatness, and the rooms were the very picture of cleanliness and good order. It was apparently, and indeed so the good mother had intimated relative to her husband’s occupation, a fisherman’s cottage; but Fanny said to her husband, ‘where can true content and happiness be found if not in such circumstances as these.’
The husband and father had not yet returned though it was afternoon of the subsequent day on which they had arrived at the cottage. Fanny was evidently well enough to leave, but Lovell was anxious to see the father of these bright eyed and rosy cheeked children, and to recompense him in some degree for the hospitality they had enjoyed under his happy roof. And in addition to this inducement to stop still longer, the robber whom he had secured, and who now lay unable to move in one of the apartments of the house, was pronounced by the physician whose services had been procured at an outlay of no little trouble from a great distance, to be dying, and Lovell wanted to see the matter at an end, either as to his probable recovery, or proper attention paid to him when deceased. – Several of the neighbors, who were but few, had called to see him, but none could recognize him, and it was very evident that he was a stranger in the neighborhood. – From him there could be no intelligence gained, for he had few lucid moments, his injuries being mainly upon the brain.
At last in one of those intervals of reason, when Lovell stood by his side he looked at him and recognizing him, said: ‘I have wronged you – forgive me. I have been driven step by step to this act, it was my first – but did I not hear a voice with you that I knew? It sounded very familiar, and brought back the remembrance of years long past.’
‘I hardly think it can be the case,’ said Lovell kindly. ‘The lady with me was my wife.’
‘Can I see her?’ said the sufferer. ‘I would ask her forgiveness, too, for I feel that I am about to die.’
‘I would ask your forgiveness for the evil I have done – can you forgive one who is dying and is repentant?’
‘I forgive you with all my heart,’ said Fanny; ‘have you asked your Maker to do so?’
‘Nay, I dare not!’ said the man, shuddering. ‘But he will forgive all who truly repent,’ said Fanny; ‘I will pray for you.’
And she lifted her voice, low and musical, to her Maker, in the pious prayer of a Christian, asking forgiveness for her enemy. It was a beautiful sight, and Fanny never looked more lovely to Lovell than at that moment.
‘Is there nothing in which we can serve you?’ asked Fanny at length, ‘no message to your friends or family?’
‘None, I have none. My near relations are dead – my early friends have long since discarded me! How strange that I remember so well your voice, lady. Where can we have met before?’
‘Have you felt thus?’ said Fanny. ‘The first words you spoke caused the same thought in my mind. I’ve have not even yet learned your name.’
‘It is Banning!’ said the man.
A few words sufficed to gratify the curiosity of both as to the intervening years of their life. Banning had fallen into dissipated habits, and by degrees come to that which he now was. He had sought the island to escape the pursuit of his creditors and the police, and he spoke truly when he said that this was his first step towards the life of a highway robber. Strange fortune had thus thrown them together again, but such are its wayward freaks that nothing is impossible.
Fanny stood by his couch to the last, and bade him hope. He clasped the hands of Lovell and his wife warmly in his own, the very individuals he would have sacrificed to his base purpose but a short time before, and soon breathed his last.
Turning her eyes at this moment she beheld the good wife of the cottage in the arms of her husband, who had just returned, and was walking towards the place where she sat with the children.
No sooner did she distinctly observe him than she at once recognized him, while he on his part also seemed embarrassed with inward remembrances. At length as if the light had broke upon him all at once, he exclaimed, warmly pressing her hand.
‘Captain Channing! I bid you welcome.’
Reader, it was the pardoned Englishman whom Fanny had spared on board the Constance!
After a few days of happy fellowship and pleasant association, Lovell and Fanny sought again the deck of the Vision.
It was scarcely three weeks from the day that the Vision left the Isle of Man before she was riding at anchor quietly in the little harbor of Lynn.
Fanny and Lovell had both had enough of adventure, at least for a while, but nevertheless they kept the yacht in readiness for frequent excursions on the element to which both had become so much attached. Their fortune was ample, and there was no necessity for them to deny themselves this or any other desirable amusement that fancy might suggest.
It was while on an excursion with her husband, and far out of sight of land, that Fanny gave birth to her first child, a noble and robust boy, whose maritime birth no doubt influenced his choice of a profession. The Vision was known in our harbor even until a few years since, and we are told that not long since she was refitted and sold into the Venezulian navy, being renowned for speed and excellent sea qualities. She is still employed there, with a small armament and crew, as a revenue cutter or a species of guarda costa.
CONCLUSION
Terrence Moony was employed until ripe old age laid him up on the estate of William Lovell, and he died happy, surrounded by every comfort he could desire, and with his own children about him, to smoothe his pillow, and regret him gone.
There is still another character in whom the reader has doubtless become interested, and of whom we shall be expected to say something before we close; our own feelings too, would lead us voluntarily to allude to him, for there were many extenuating points in his character. We refer to Sir Ralph Burnet of the Royal Navy.
Soon after he recovered from the effects of his severe wound, he applied for a change of station, not wishing to be an enemy to a people whom he honestly considered to be in the right, and whom at heart he wished might prove successful in the cause that engaged them. He was soon ordered on to the English coast, and greatly distinguished himself there, in the war with the French, and several other important engagements, until step by step, he became an Admiral, and for some gallant act, was knighted by his King. He was true to his promise to Fanny Campbell, and was wedded to fame only, but therein he chose a distinguished mistress, and one that did him full honor.
Lovell had two sons, who partook of the martial character of their parents, and now serve their country as officers in the right arm of its defence, our gallant navy. These sons, too, have seen active service, but we will speak no more of them.
The descendants of the High Rock hamlet still exist, and are yet occupied like their parents, in the early times of the Revolution, in the hardy and honest employment of fishermen. The inhabitants of the hamlet removed to about two miles more easterly of the Rock, and were merged into the community of the Swampscot fishermen of Lynn, a hardy and industrious people. High Rock, firm and immovable, still towers above the scene, and is often visited by our travelers to enjoy the extended and beautiful prospect it affords, both of the land and sea, from its elevated summit.
I could add no small degree of interest to this closing part of my story, if I could take the reader over the turnpike road leading from Lynn to Salem, where the old Mansion-house of the Lovell family still remains, surrounded by well improved and highly cultivated lands, a herald of the past. It was built by Lovell, and the style is but little in advance of the earliest mode of architecture in the colonies; but it is still a stout and commodious house, with every convenience the heart need desire. We know that the reader who has perused our tale, would look upon the spot with not a little interest, where Fanny, our heroine, closed her days, and where the honest Terrence Moony displayed his skill in gardening, until grey old age laid him quietly on the shelf. When business or pleasure shall again call you to that vicinity, as you pass through the town of Lynn, turn off from the common, and take the ‘upper road,’ by the base of High Rock, and from its summit recall the ‘locale’ of our tale; then pass on through the now thickly settled part of the town called Wood End, and taking the Northern road, strike again into the great Eastern turnpike road that passes through Salem, and you will shortly come upon the Lovell estate. I am vain enough to think that perhaps some one may be induced to make the trip solely by reason of the interest I may have created; if so, I can assure them that they will be richly paid for the labor. If you do it, eschew the railroad, take a horse and vehicle, and be your own master; go where you like, and return when you will. This is independence; the deuce take all railroads, say I, where romance is concerned, for while one is exercised by some very fine feeling, he may awake from his lethargy, and find that the cars have very quietly gone off and left him.
And now we must part, gentle reader, and patient too, if thou hast followed us thus far.
Fairly at the end of our ill-spun yarn, it now remains for us to thank you for the great patience that has carried you through to these lines. We have endeavored in Fanny Campbell to portray a heroine who should not be like every other the fancy has created; we have strove to make her such an one as should elicit the reader’s interest, and have yet endeavored in the picture not to overstep the modest bounds of nature. We have designed to show that among the lower classes of society, there is more of the germ of true intellect and courage, nobleness of purpose, and strength of will than may be found among the pampered and wealthy children of fortune. We have given you but modest and true men in William Lovell and Jack Herbert. In Terrence Moony we have only shown the impetuous generosity and warmth of affection that characterize his countrymen. In the pardoned Englishman we have drawn a picture that we would be glad to hold up before the advocates of Capital Punishment; nor have we overdrawn the picture here; it is a faithful one so far as the human heart can be judged of by past and long experience.
In Captain Burnet we have given form to a spirit, the genuineness of which We all can bear testimony to. A warm, ardent, thoughtless man becomes entirely changed in heart and purpose by the strange power of love. We have seen in him the contradictions of which those who are exercised by it will be at one time rash and headstrong, at another, calm and repentant. Such men will make great naval heroes, but bad fathers of families.
And now again, farewell, dear reader, dear reader, and thus ends our tale of Fanny Campbell, the Female Pirate Captain.
