Fanny (65 page)

“When you came not to sail with us, Fannikins,” Horatio said, “both Lancelot and I were cast down with Despair. I suspected Sabotage, but Lancelot felt totally betray’d. Yet could we not dwell upon your Absence, for our Task was hard and the Rebellion we had plann’d might cost our very Lives. ’Twas only when we were safe aboard the
Hazard
and under full Sail that we might speak of you.”

I listen’d intently; Horatio went on.

“I’d told Lancelot I’d ne’er sail with him without your gracious Company, for I fear’d his Plans to establish his ‘Deocracy’ in the New World. But, in the Heat of the Rebellion, how could I fail him? So sail I did; whereupon we found ourselves at Sea with all the scurvy Debtors of Newgate—none of whom knew a Fart’s Worth about Sailing—and we discover’d, to boot, that the
Hazard
was about as Sea-worthy as a Tub of Butter or a Puncheon of Rum.”

“’Tis true,” said Lancelot, “alas, ’tis true.”

“At once we determin’d to take another Ship,” Horatio continu’d, “for ’twas that or perish. We might ne’er sail the
Hazard
without careening her….”

“What’s careening?” I askt, knowing little then of the Pyrate Round.

“’Tis when ye put yer Ship upon dry Land to scrape her clean o’ Barnacles an’ tar her Bottom ’gainst Shipworms,” Lancelot explain’d. “All Pyrates require Countries where they may careen in Peace—New Providence in the Bahamas was once such a Sanctuary. Also Madagascar an’ Johanna Isle—but now it grows much harder to find Sanctuaries, fer Pyracy is bein’ routed by the Crown—”

“We knew we could not make Madagascar or the Bahamas in a Tub as foul-bottom’d as the
Hazard
,” Horatio said, “so we put it to a Vote with these scurvy Debtors and determin’d we should take the first sound Ship we saw. She prov’d to be a Brigantine call’d the
Happy Delivery
—which we spy’d off the Azores—”

“An’ none too soon indeed, fer the
Hazard
was already leakin’ badly an’ was like to sink afore we e’en compleated our Maiden Voyage,” Lancelot added.

“But Lancelot had not counted upon one Problem when he recruited these Debtors and Felons,” Horatio continu’d; “the Sea was an alien Element to ’em and they were well-nigh useless upon Deck. ‘
Divisium sic breve fiet opus
,’ says Martial. ‘Divided thus the Work will become brief….’”

Lancelot did not even flinch at Horatio’s Latin now.

“But all the Running of the Ship was left to me and Lancelot,” he said, “(and those Merry Men who knew a bit of Sailing), but as for the Debtors, they did nought put puke and complain, complain and puke, and grumble below Deck. ’Twas clear we’d ne’er build a Deocracy with ’em.”

“Alas, Horatio is right,” Lancelot sigh’d philosophically. “’Tis one Thing to rally Men ’round, an’ another to turn ’em into Brothers in a Common Cause. When the
Happy Delivery
was sighted thro’ the Spyin’-Glass, Horatio an’ I rejoiced, but all the Debtors found sundry Reasons why they could not fight. ’Twas fight or perish an’ they could not fight! I’d put the Boardin’ to a Vote before, an’ now I was determin’d to capture a sound Ship to sail the Pyrate Round to the Eastern Seas—fer that seem’d the most likely Alternative to the Settlement in the New World, which Horatio oppos’d. We took the
Happy Delivery
with a Boardin’ Party o’ but a dozen Men, whilst all the bloody Debtors grumbl’d an’ complain’d in the Steerage.”

“But how could you take the Ship with so few Men?” I askt.

“Ah, Fanny—most Pyracy is thus,” Horatio explain’d. “Thus we took the
Hopewell
in the Fog with e’en fewer Men. Pyracy oft’ succeeds not because of Force of Arms, but due to Speed and e’en Surprize. Yet more than that, we oft’ succeed because most Seamen are so abus’d at Sea that they turn Pyrate in a trice! Sometimes, ’tis true that Boarding Axes and Grappling Hooks and Broadsides of Cannon Fire are us’d, but oft’ the very Cry of
Pyrates
! is enough to stifle all Resistance. So many Tales are told of Pyrates’ Cruelties that just to hear the
Name
of Pyrate makes Seamen pale—and also Passengers! Methinks the greatest Pyrate Potentates tell such Stories of themselves to turn their Enemies’ Resolve to Mush. Sure Captain Thack was fierce, that much I know, but oft’ I wonder of the
other
legendary Pyrates—Blackbeard, Bartholomew Roberts, Howell Davis, Jack Rackham, Long Ben Avery, and the like. Were they as fierce as they were
said
to be? Or were they only turn’d so legendary by their own Story-telling?”

“But what of your Travels with Calico Thack?” said I, for I remember’d Horatio’s stirring Tales.

“Thack was brave and foolish, too,” said Horatio wearily. “He took daring Risques—and by Jove, so doth Lancelot!”

Lancelot beam’d at this; it seem’d that he and Horatio were far better Friends than they had been a Year before.

“But oft’ such Risques are needless, for the Prey surrenders ere we raise our Flag! The Great Age of Pyracy is past, my Sweet, but the Legends about Pyrates daily increase. ’Tis oft’ the Case that when some mortal Thing is dying, its Fame increases e’en as it dyes. As Virgil says—”

“Damn Virgil!” Lancelot interrupted, “an’ tell the Lass the Tale!”

“And why, pray, is the Great Age of Pyracy past?” I askt.

“Because it no longer serves the English Crown to have their Privateers attack the bloody Spanish under the Cover of Letters of Marque,” Horatio explain’d. “But whilst the Spanish were our greatest Enemies, the Buccaneers were born, and now the Crown cannot rid itself of ’em!”

“Ah Horatio,” I exclaim’d, “you are the very Tacitus of Pyracy! If e’er we find ourselves in London once again, you must write Volumes of your Knowledge!”

“An’ publish ’em under a
Nom de Plume
,” said Lancelot, “fer otherwise we’ll hang!”

“I’d love to write a Book of Buccaneers,” Horatio said, his Eyes misting o’er with the Dream of Lit’ry Fame (from which e’en clever
he
was not immune), “for in a Book, a Man is judged not by the Colour of his Skin, but by the Colour of the Page, White as ’tis.”

“Piffle!” said Lancelot. “D’ye think Authors find justice more than Buccaneers or Blacks?”

To stop this incipient Dispute betwixt these accustom’d Adversaries, I quickly put another Query to Horatio:

“Why do they call ’em Buccaneers?” I askt, “for I have heard the Word, and always remarkt upon its Strangeness.”

“’Tis a curious Word for a Latin Scholar,” Horatio said, “and its History is e’en more Curious. For when Columbus came to Hispaniola, he carried Cattle, Pigs, and Sheep upon his Ships and introduced ’em to the Isle. For a Time, these Animals were tended by the Natives of the Caribee, those Savages who call’d themselves Caribs. But when this Race of Savages dy’d out, the Animals ran wild upon the Isle, which turn’d again to Wilderness and Scrub. Thus uncheckt, they multiplied most prodigiously, and before long, Ships came to anchor in Hispaniola to replenish their Provisions with this Meat. Where there is Profit, there are Profiteers; thus the Buccaneers were born! They came as Hunters first—shipwreckt Seamen, Runaway Slaves, Felons, Debtors, ev’ry sort of Castaway—they took up Hunting as their Livelihood. Dead Shots they were, and nimble in the Bush. They hunted in small Parties with their
Matelots
and banish’d Women from their Ranks to prevent Disputes.”

“O ye best not say that to our Mistress Fanny,” Lancelot interrupted, “fer she is fierce in her Defence o’ Womankind.”

I only smil’d at this—to spite Lancelot. “Pray, continue, Horatio,” said I, for I had not yet turn’d so humourless that I could not hear a Tale without protesting Woman’s Lot. As I was put upon this Globe to learn, so learn I would from Men as well as Women!

“They kill’d their Prey and skinn’d it where it lay, then grill’d its Meat the way the Savages had taught, upon a sort of Rack the Caribs call’d a
Bukan
, made of green Wood and lasht with greenest Vines. Thus, was the Meat they grill’d call’d
Viande Boucanée
and the Men who grill’d it
Boucaniers
!”

“But how did these Hunters take to the Seas?” I askt.

“The Spanish chas’d ’em from their Livelihood upon the Land and liv’d to rue the Day they did! For they became the Brethren of the Coast, raiding the Spanish Galleons from their Rafts. They learnt to approach a Sailing Ship in such a Way that her Cannon were useless to defend her. They took her from the Bow, then crept aboard, and ramm’d her Rudder with a Wedge of Wood ere she e’en knew that they’d arriv’d, whereupon they’d scramble up the Decks and oft’times take the Ship without a Shot being fir’d! The Spanish studded their Hulls with Nails ’gainst these Invaders and e’en smear’d their Decks with Butter! Why, oft’ they’d spill dried Pease across ’em to make ’em more Slippery! But it avail’d ’em nought. The Brethren of the Coast were still their Match and more. Thus, they plunder’d the Treasure Fleets of Gold, Damask, Indigo, and Luxuries of ev’ry kind, whilst the Spaniards were helpless to prevent their Raids. Tho’ the English call’d these bloody Brethren
Buccaneers
—and with more than a Hint of Admiration, too, the Spanish call’d ’em simply
Ladrones
, which is their Word for Thieves! In Dutch, they’re call’d
Zee-Rovers
, and in French,
Flibustiers
, which we oft’ translate as Free Booter. But the Spanish hate ’em most, and e’en Today when you hear the Word
Demonio
or
Corsario Luterano
from a Spaniard’s Lips, he says it and then spits upon the Ground—for so they also term these Buccaneers. They were a fearsome Lot, ’tis true, and perhaps the Histories of their Cruelties are true. They hated the Spanish for their Slaughter of the Indians and for their Plunder of the Gold of the New World. ’Twas Montbars who was fam’d for slitting Spaniards’ Gullets and hauling out Intestines; whilst Lolonois roasted his Prey alive—or so I’ve heard. I ne’er beheld it with my Eyes, thank God. But ev’ry Pyrate requires Confederates on Land to sell his Plunder to, since he can scarce
drink
the Indigo nor eat the Gold Dust that he takes. Thus Pyrates flourish only when they are
allow’d
to flourish, when Governments on Land wink at their Doings, pretending not to see. When Britannia thus made Peace with Spain, the Buccaneers began to see their Doom and now the greatest Age of Pyracy is past.”

“How can ye say that Pyracy is dead when Robin roams the Seas?” Lancelot cried.

Horatio lookt cynically at his Friend and shook his Head. “Ah, Fannikins, our Robin Hood reborn will rewrite History itself!

“Lancelot,” Horatio said, “I only meant to say that since the Peace with Spain, the Place of Buccaneering ’gainst the Treasure Fleets is lookt on by the Crown with some Disfavour. Moreo’er, neither Madagascar nor the Bahamas are quite as safe as once they were; for Pyracy e’er flourish’d with Royal Sanction. The Crown abetted Pyrates ’gainst the Spanish and e’en ’gainst the French—whilst the Colonies of North America us’d Pyracy as their Revenge ’gainst the Trading Practices of the Crown which they deem’d Unfair….”

“Pyracy will flourish once again, as Lancelot lives an’ breathes!” shouted my Robin Hood reborn. “Kidd may be dead as Dust an’ Blackbeard, too, an’ e’en Calico Thack, but Robin Hood still lives! If ’tis harder to play Pyrate now—sobeit! When did Robin Hood e’er flinch at Danger?”

Horatio lookt at me and smil’d a Smile which seem’d to say: Daft he is and yet we love him still.

“But what became of the Debtors when you took the
Happy Delivery
?” I askt, hoping to change the Subject again.

“We storm’d the Ship without ’em,” Horatio said, “and those who would come along were happily invited. But most cower’d in the Steerage, awaiting Rescue. We left them thus adrift.”

“Without their knowing how to sail?” I askt.

“Alas, ’tis true,” said Horatio, “but what other Choyce had we?”

“And the Ship leaking badly, too? These Men follow’d you to Sea and you abandon’d them?”

“You sound like Lancelot, Fanny—crack-pated, begging the Captain’s Pardon. You can lead an oppress’d Man to his Salvation, but how can you force him to reach out for it, if he will not move a Muscle of his own Free Will? Doubtless these Men were rescu’d or perhaps they learnt to sail out of Necessity, that Mother of Invention. We gave them ev’ry Opportunity, and most of ’em quite disappointed us. They prov’d a Shipload of Fools and Knaves, waiting for us to serve ’em their Salvation upon a Silver Platter. It quite dasht Lancelot’s Theories about the Goodness of Debtors and Felons!”

“Not true! Not true!” cried Lancelot. “I still believe most Men are good at Heart, albeit lazy in seekin’ their own Freedom!”

“Be that as it may,” Horatio said, “you and I must teach Lancelot to be less fantastical in his Plans for Liberty and
Libertalia.
Men must be tested ere they join our great Deocracy—not ev’ry Idiot will do. There is a Pyrate Captain I have heard about who chooses his Men thus: twelve Men are maroon’d upon a Desert Isle with one Bottle of Rum betwixt ’em. The Captain sails away and leaves ’em there, to return a Week later. Those remaining Men become his Crew; the others perish.”

“Are you proposing
this
for
Libertalia
?” I askt in extream Shock and Amazement.

“No—a thousand Times no,” Horatio protested. “I only mean that Lancelot must awaken to the Truth of Human Nature. ’Tis one Thing to lead a Great Rebellion and quite another to make it stick!”

“He talks like me own Mother!” said Lancelot. “O what Joy ’tis to have a resident Critick! What did I do with me Life ere I met him?” And he laugh’d derisively.

“After you took the
Happy Delivery
,
then
what happen’d?” I askt.

“The Crew o’ that Ship turn’d Pyrate,” Lancelot explain’d, picking up Horatio’s Tale, “an’ we all headed fer the Red Sea Round—where we had heard o’ untold Riches. An’ what’s more, we found ’em! Whilst ye bore yer Babe, we plunder’d the Moguls’ Treasures. O we sail’d from the Azores to the Cape Verde Islands, thence to St. Helena an’ ’round the Cape. We cruis’d the Pyrate Round in the Red Sea, an’ took more Booty than e’en Long Ben Avery! Why, on one Prize alone we took five hundred thousand Pieces o’ Gold! An’ have not spent ’em yet—why, Lass, we’re rich! The Hold o’ the
Happy Delivery
creaks with Gold Mohurs, Gold Dust, Rubies, Emeralds, Diamonds. ’Tis a Sight to make the Robin Hood o’ Old come back to Life!”