Antony Waymouth: or, The Gentlemen Adventurers

“Thanks, Master Weedon, thanks!” exclaimed Constance enthusiastically; “we would join our prayers with yours to persuade your wife to let you come, if that would avail.”

“My better-half, ladies, is one woman in a thousand. If she will, she will, you may depend on’t; if she won’t, she won’t, and there’s an end on’t. I will hie me home, and should she consent I will send you word; if not, you will know that I am kept bound in the chains of matrimony.”

Suddenly Hugh recollected that probably the stranger was hungry, which he confessed to be the case. Refreshment was therefore placed for him in the dining-hall, to which he set himself to do ample justice, and while he was discussing it Beatrice sent a messenger to summon Master Langton. The old captain soon appeared. His astonishment at hearing the account given by Weedon was very great, but far greater was it on hearing of the resolution to which his fair friends had so suddenly arrived. He knew Constance too well by this time to attempt to combat it. Before he made any remark, however, he had a long conversation with the stranger. He seemed perfectly satisfied that he was honest and his statements true, though he doubted much the likelihood of the missing ship being found. It was not a matter to be settled in a hurry; much discussion would be required, and he could not find it in his heart to oppose the scheme altogether.

Pressed by Hugh, Master Weedon gladly consented to remain that night at the hall to rest, and if he ate and drank abundantly he deserved his provender in return for the way he plied his tongue for Hugh’s benefit. Hugh would scarcely have allowed him to sleep had he not cried out that his tongue could wag no more. Next morning, while discussing the ale and beef and wheaten bread placed before him at breakfast, he was compelled by the young man to begin again, and before he was permitted to go on his way he had given Hugh a large amount of information about those eastern seas and strange lands among which he had so long wandered. The ladies had filled a satchel with good food, and pressed on the seaman a purse with a store of coin to enable him with ease to reach his journey’s end. There was little doubt that the subject would be discussed by the two maidens and Hugh. In truth, morning, noon, and even, it was the only matter about which they could speak; even Captain Langton caught much of their enthusiasm. Hugh was fully as warm as his sister or Constance. Means would not be wanting between them to fit out a tall ship able to sail round the world. John Langton must be captain; they would take no refusal. Master Josiah Weedon should be pilot if his wife would let him go, and if not, no doubt he could give such directions to Captain Langton as would enable him to sail in the direction they desired, where they might perchance discover the Lion. At length their importunity, if not their reasoning, succeeded in overcoming all Master Langton’s scruples, and he consented to search for a suitable ship, to fit her out and store her, and to find the necessary officers and crew. Not many days had elapsed, and just as Captain Langton was about to set off for Plymouth, when Josiah Weedon arrived habited exactly as before.

“Fair ladies, Master Hugh, I am ready to sail with you to any part of the world you may desire,” he exclaimed as he entered the house. “Things are changed since I left home, and beshrew me I was an idiot to expect it to be otherwise. My good old mother is in her grave; had she been alive I should have had a different tale to tell. My sister is married and gone far away I know not whither, and my wife, why she has gone away with my sister and a new husband of her own into the bargain, and not a soul in the place would acknowledge me. My doublet is threadbare and tattered. Josiah Weedon was always the best-dressed man in the village. I was a wretched beggar. Josiah Weedon was to come back with a dozen packhorses laden with gold and precious stones. Many more bitter remarks were made, and finally I was kicked out of the village as a rogue and vagabond, and glad enough to hurry back that I may lay my sword and services at your feet, fair ladies, right willing to do your behests in any way you may command me.”

The young people did not doubt the truth of Master Weedon’s story, and, after he had fed, Hugh hurried him off to Captain Langton that he might accompany him the next morning to Plymouth. While the captain and pilot were selecting a ship and fitting her out, Hugh, with his sister and Constance, was engaged with those learned in the law in arranging for the necessary funds and the disposal of their estates, should they not live to return to the shores of Old England. Yet so sanguine is youth that not one of them ever for a moment believed that they should not return successful. Hugh was the least likely to be disappointed; he would, at all events, see much of the world, and would meet with many adventures. He forgot that it is possible to meet with disagreeable as well as agreeable adventures.

Before long Captain Langton wrote word that he had purchased a stout ship, which Constance insisted should be called the Esperanza, or Hope. Captain Langton was well known, and he had little difficulty in selecting a goodly company, especially when the object of the voyage was understood. Many young gallants offered their services on hearing that Mistress Beatrice Willoughby and Mistress Constance Raymond were themselves going on it, and were much disappointed on having them courteously refused. Captain Langton selected as his officers staid, steady, and trusty men, who were likely to keep one object in view – their duty – and not to depart from it.

The tall ship Esperanza, with banners and streamers flying and the white canvas spread to the breeze, sailed down Plymouth Sound on her way to the far-off lands of the East. Never ship bare richer freight, for never sailed over the salt seas two fairer damsels with more loving, faithful hearts. Fair blew the breeze, calm was the sea, just rippled by the joyous wind, and bright the sky overhead. Even John Langton caught some of the enthusiasm of his young charges, and could not help predicting a favourable termination to the adventure. Well was the good ship called the Esperanza, for all on board felt hope reigning in their bosoms except Master Weedon, the pilot. When rallied on his gravity he replied —

“I prithee do not ask me to rejoice at the prospect of the future who have been oft so cruelly deceived. If matters turn out well, good; it will be time enough to rejoice then; if ill, it will be but as I expect. I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing that I have not laughed in vain. Meantime I will do my duty, and guide the ship towards those regions where the fair dames and their brother desire to proceed. May their star be a happier one than mine!”

This was the usual style of Weedon’s remarks. Inside a rough shell there was a tender heart, which had been sorely wounded by the reception he had encountered on his return to the place of his birth.

Hugh Willoughby, on the contrary, was full of life and animation. Every thing he saw was new and strange, and afforded him delight, and he looked forward without doubt to the complete success of their enterprise. The ship sailed on without interruption till the burning rays of the sun, which shone down on the deck, making the pitch to bubble up out of the seams, and driving the ladies to seek the shadow of the sails, warned them that they were already in southern latitudes. The elder seamen laughed at the notion of the weather being hot.

“Do you call this hot?” said Master Weedon. “Why, good friends, we were wont during calms in those eastern seas to cook our victuals on the bare planks or on a sheet of tin placed on the deck. I can certify that we shall have it far hotter than this.”

The breeze still held fair, though coming off the land of Africa, said to lie some twenty leagues away on the larboard beam.

“A sail! a sail!” was shouted by the seaman on the watch in the top. “To the eastward, and seemingly approaching us,” he replied to the questions put to him.

Mariners sailing over the ocean in those days had to be on their guard against foes in every direction. Every preparation was made to give the stranger a warm reception should he prove an enemy. The heavy guns and all fire-arms were loaded; battle-axes, pikes were got up, and placed with slow matches in readiness for use; swords were girded on, and the deck of the Esperanza – generally so quiet and peaceful – assumed a thoroughly warlike appearance.

When all things were ready, Hugh approached the ladies.

“Fair friend and sweet sister, I am about to exert some little authority over you,” he said. “Should yonder stranger prove to be a foe, you must descend into the hold, where you will be free from danger. When we have driven off, or captured, or sunk the enemy, we will summon you from your prison-house to rejoice with us in our victory, and to reward those who have exhibited most valour in the fight.”

To this arrangement neither Beatrice nor Constance showed any inclination to agree.

“But suppose one of the foeman’s shot was to deprive you of life,” argued Hugh. “In battle, methinks, bullets pay little respect to persons.”

“We shall but die in the performance of our duty and in the execution of our mission,” answered Constance.

Hugh, not quite comprehending her remark, observed —

“Yes; but one might die, and one might escape – and alack for the survivor!”

Still the ladies insisted on remaining.

“Take your will, take your will, fair ladies. I would not quarrel with you at such a time,” he said in a mournful tone. “But I pray that neither of you may be killed, though, perchance, a bullet may tear open that fair cheek, or a splinter may deprive sweet Beatrice of an eye. Although I doubt not Edward’s love would stand the test, it would be a sorry plight in which to greet him should we haply discover the land where the Lion is cast away.”

The fair damsels looked at each other.

“Brother Hugh, we will follow your counsel and seek shelter in the hold, where we may offer up prayers for your safety,” said Beatrice humbly, Constance signifying, at the same time, that she agreed with her friend.

The stranger approached. A crescent was seen on her green ensign. She was undoubtedly a Sallee Rover. They were in the latitude where those vultures of the ocean were wont to cruise. Hugh hurried the ladies below. The ports of the Esperanza were closed, and many of the crew hidden away under the bulwarks, so that she looked but little able to defend herself. Not that any ship in those days went to sea unarmed – as well might a lamb attempt to sport among a troop of hungry lions. The Sallee Rover approached, with her infidel banners flying, her brazen trumpets braying, and her deck covered with turbaned swarthy Moors, expecting to obtain an easy victory.

John Langton kept his good ship on her course without replying. He well knew that, should victory not be obtained, the alternative must be death, or – worse than death – a life-long slavery. Not a man on board but resolved to triumph or to go down fighting for his own sake, but much more for the sake of the fair ladies he had sworn to serve and protect.

Louder blew the trumpets of the Moors as their ship came within shot of the Esperanza. Nearer and nearer they drew. Their purpose, it seemed, was to run the English ship on board, and to overcome her crew by superior numbers. Captain Langton watched for the best moment to fire. Already the dark-skinned infidels stood, with their scimitars in hand, crowding the side, and some in the rigging, ready to spring on board.

“Raise the ports, and give it them!” shouted the brave English captain.

His gallant crew cheerfully obeyed, and the next instant twenty Moors were seen struggling or dead, prostrate on the deck of the Rover, which made a vain attempt to haul her tack aboard and sheer off. Again the English crew loaded their guns ready to fire, as with a crash she ran alongside. This time they were pointed at her hull, and fearful was the execution they caused. Many of the Moors endeavoured to spring on the deck of the Esperanza, but they were driven headlong back with pikes and battle-axes, too late to regain their ship, which broke clear of the Englishman, and they fell headlong into the sea. Then fearful shrieks arose as the Esperanza sailed on – the Sallee Rover was sinking. Was mercy to be shown to those who never showed it to others? The choice was not allowed them. Before the canvas could be taken off the English ship, the Rover had sunk beneath the sea, and not a Moor remained struggling on the surface.

Beatrice and Constance, finding that the firing and turmoil of battle had ceased, entreated that they might come on deck. They gazed around in astonishment on every side; no foe was there; and except a few of the crew with limbs bound up, and here and there the white splinters where the shot from the Rover had struck the bulwarks, not a vestige of the fight was to be seen. Even then the eyes of most on board were gazing at the spot where the Rover had gone down, as if they expected to see her emerge again from her watery grave. The damsels could scarcely believe their senses.

“Heaven has fought for us,” said Captain Langton. “We did our duty, but no power of ours could have accomplished what has been done. I pray that it may prove the first of many successes leading to that which may crown our hopes.”

“I pray so too, kind friend,” answered Beatrice, her eyes filling with tears as she thought of the danger from which they had been preserved.

Such was the tone of feeling of the voyagers – ay, and of many of the boldest adventurers – of those days. They gave Heaven the praise for all their deliverances and successes, and threw the blame when they failed on their own folly and neglect. There were clear-sighted, right-judging, and truly pious men in those days, who were laying the foundation of England’s glory and power. The age which produced a Shakespeare produced many other gigantic intellects and true men.

The Esperanza sailed on, hope swelling the hearts of her owners and a fair wind her canvas, till Afric’s southern cape, known by the name she bore, that of Bona Esperanza, appeared in sight.

Master Weedon counselled that they should not enter Table Bay, but proceed on to Saldanha Bay as more convenient for watering, and where they were less likely to receive interruption. As they drew near two tall ships were seen at anchor. They might be foes more likely than friends, where foes were so numerous and friends so few. The captain seemed doubtful whether it were wise to enter.

“We may fight them if they oppose us, and conquer them as we did the Rover,” cried Hugh. “Maybe when they know our errand, whatever their nation, they may be inclined to aid us.”

Master Weedon seemed rather doubtful of this, but Captain Langton sided with Hugh, and the Esperanza was accordingly steered towards the bay, running up a white flag as a signal of truce at the fore. It was well that this precaution was taken, for the strangers proved to be two Hollanders, always jealous of the English who appeared in those parts. The captains, however, when they found that their trade was not to be interfered with, and that there were two fair ladies on board the Esperanza, proved themselves to be honourable and courteous gentlemen. They begged permission to visit the English ship, and offered all the aid in their power to forward the object of the adventurers.

This aid was gratefully accepted, and picked men from their crews being sent by them the rigging of the Esperanza was quickly set up, and other repairs effected, and wood and water got on board, so that slid was able to sail to the east in their company. Scarcely were the three ships out of sight of land when several sail were espied coming from the west. The Hollanders hailed to notify that they must be part of a Portugal fleet which they had reason to expect ere long in those seas. Should the Portugals espy them they would assuredly make chase and not spare either ships or crews should they come off victorious. As more strange ships were seen coming up, flight was their only prudent course. All sail was made, accordingly, to escape. The strangers had espied them, for they also crowded on canvas in pursuit. Captain Langton informed the Hollanders that no English fleet had of late sailed with so many ships as now appeared.

“Then they are Portugals, and we must escape them if we value our lives or liberty,” was the answer.

Though the Hollanders were stout ships, yet the Portugals had faster keels, it seemed, for in spite of the wide spread of canvas set by the former they gained rapidly on them. The Esperanza might have gone far ahead; and though the Hollanders hailed and begged Captain Langton so to do, he replied that it went against his stomach to do such an act – to desert those who had befriended him. Hugh applauded his resolution, and Beatrice and Constance agreed with him. The Esperanza therefore shortened sail that she might not run away from her heavier-sailing consorts. They insisted, however, that she should keep a short distance ahead, that they might bear the first onslaught.

There was ample time to make every preparation for the fight, and the shades of evening were coming on before the leading ships of the Portugals got up with the stout Hollanders. It was now to be seen whether to sail fast or to fight stoutly were of most avail. So fiercely did the Hollanders receive their assailants that the first three of them dropped astern in confusion; others coming up were treated in the same manner. Hugh was so delighted with the bravery of the Hollanders that he begged Captain Langton to drop astern into the fight.

“No, no, the post of honour is the station assigned to them,” answered the captain. “Should any of the Portugals pass our friends it will then be our duty to fight them. Let us not wish to deprive the brave Hollanders of the glory they are winning for themselves.”

Chapter Twelve

The Hollanders sailed steadily on: the wind freshened. Still more of the Portugal ships were coming up: the three friends held steadily on their way. The Hollanders sent heavy shot from their sterns, sorely discomposing their pursuers. The wind, too, was increasing, and clouds were gathering, and darkness coming on. It was clear that the Portugals were being drawn away from their intended port. This encouraged the Hollanders to hold out; yet they contended against fearful odds. Now the whole Portugal fleet, crowding on still more sail, pressed up to overwhelm them. It would have been wiser of the said Portugals had they allowed their expected prey to pass on their way unmolested. A terrific blast struck their ships, rending sails and snapping spars and topmasts in every direction, and throwing the whole fleet into confusion; while the stout Hollanders, with their stronger canvas, glided calmly on, uninjured by the gale, though sorely battered by the shot of the enemy. Darkness speedily came on, and shut out their foes from their sight. When morning broke, not an enemy’s ship was to be seen. Captain Langton hailed the Hollanders gratefully to acknowledge the gallant protection they had afforded the Esperanza; whereon the two captains appeared, and, waving their hats, assured him that it was their delight and pleasure to serve ladies as fair and excellent as those who sailed on board her. The heavy sea running prevented any further communication for some days. Thus escorted, the Esperanza sailed on towards Batavia; whence it was proposed that she should take fresh departure towards the little-known seas to the east, whither the Lion had been seen driving. Space will not allow an account of all the attentions paid to Beatrice and Constance at Batavia, and the magnificent fête which the governor gave in their honour; for, even in those good old days, fair ladies were not often found sailing round the world in search of lost lovers and mothers, albeit the so doing was a most praiseworthy and commendable act. Certes, few damsels would be so confident as were these two heroines, that, should they succeed in their search, the brothers or lovers would be ready to exhibit that amount of gratitude which Beatrice and Constance looked for as their reward. It was reported that Constance, who was known only to be looking for her brother, received and refused uncounted offers of marriage from the governor, as well as from all the chief unmarried officers of the colony who could aspire to that honour, and that she was entreated to reconsider the subject, and to return to their fair port; while Beatrice was assured, with all the delicacy of which the mind and language of a Hollander is capable, that, should she not succeed in her search, it would be entirely her own fault should she remain long in single blessedness.

Happily, the sickly season had not commenced at Batavia, before the Esperanza was once more ready for sea; and thus the adventurers escaped the fate which has overtaken so many voyagers who have visited those sickness-causing shores. The governor and all the chief officers accompanied the ladies to their boat; the whole population gathered to see them embark; handkerchiefs waved, shouts arose, prayers for their safety were uttered; and the guns from the forts and all the shipping in the harbour fired as the anchor of the Esperanza was won from its oozy bed, and, the sails being spread, she glided forth on her perilous way.

It was reported that the governor and several of his officers shed tears as they thought of all the numberless dangers to which those fair dames would be exposed; but on that point the author of this faithful chronicle feels some doubt, for reasons which he does not consider right to disclose.

The fair damsels themselves felt few alarms or doubts: they were grateful for all the kindness they had received, and still more thankful that they had escaped from the place, and were once more on the free ocean. They had no longer cause to dread interruption from Portugals or from the ships of other civilised nations. The Governor of Batavia had given them letters charging all true Hollanders to render them every assistance in their power, and they hoped by watchfulness and prudence to escape from the hands of the savage people inhabiting the countries towards which they were sailing. They were well supplied with provisions and ammunition, and hoped that they might be delayed in no place, except to make the necessary inquiries for the Lion, and to take in water and wood; for, albeit heroines are described in romances as performing long journeys without food or shelter, ships cannot sail over the ocean without stopping to take in fresh supplies of water that their crews may drink, and wood with which to cook their victuals.

As yet, not a word respecting the Lion or her possible fate had they heard. Still their spirits did not flag while they approached the spot where Master Weedon had last beheld her. Seamen were stationed in the tops to keep a lookout for any strange sail, or for islands where the information they sought might be obtained. Again want of space prevents a description of the many places at which they touched, and the strange people they beheld. The Esperanza held her course to the east, skilfully navigated, and escaping many dangers. Right well and faithfully did Master Weedon fulfil his engagement: he pointed out the very reef within which the Hollander had taken shelter when he had seen the Lion drive by.

“Henceforward,” he concluded, “I will submit to the superior knowledge of Captain Langton in the guidance of our good ship.”

Due east the Esperanza now sailed. Mariners in those days troubled not their heads about circular storms or any such theories; and therefore it was concluded, that if a gale was blowing from the west, before which the Lion was driven, she most assuredly would be found to the east. Now on one hand, now on the other, islands were espied and visited; but no information was obtained. Either there were no natives, or they fled at the approach of the strange ship; or, when natives were found, no means existed of exchanging ideas between the voyagers and them.

At length an isle appeared ahead; its mountains, as first seen, scarcely to be distinguished from the sky, as they rose out of the blue ocean, now growing more and more distinct, till they assumed new and picturesque forms, some exhibiting dark and rugged rocks, lofty precipices, towering pinnacles, or rounded and gentle slopes covered with umbrageous groves. Here bays or inlets were seen, and green valleys and dark ravines extending far inland. A reef appeared, extending partly round the island, with openings in it through which the ship might sail, and find a secure anchorage within. No dangers appeared ahead; and, skilfully piloted, the Esperanza came to an anchor. Captain Langton, however, like a wise leader, observed carefully how he might speedily again get to sea should circumstances require it. Words would fail to describe the beauty of the island to which the adventurers had come, – the brightness of the atmosphere, the purity of the air, the sparkling waterfalls, the yellow sand, the tall palm-trees, the gorgeous flowers, the groves, the valleys, and the mountains before mentioned. There were natives; for their habitations of considerable size and varied form were perceived amid the trees. Before long, some were seen coming off in canoes; but it seemed that the ship was a strange thing to them, for none of them dared approach her. As observed at a distance, they were dark-skinned men, tall of figure, with much rude ornament, and their hair curiously dressed out in various forms. Still it was possible that they might be mild and gentle of disposition; and as the adventurers were anxious to hold communication with them, Master Weedon offered to visit the shore, and, presenting trinkets and such-like things which had been brought for the purpose, invite them on board.