necessary Things with him; as particularly, he brought sixty Barrels of Powder,
some Iron Shot, and about thirty Ton of Lead; also he brought a great deal of
Provisions; and in a Word, William gave me a publick Account of his Voyage, in
the Hearing of whoever happened to be upon the Quarter-Deck, that no Suspicions
might be found about us.
After all was done, William moved, that he might go up again, and that I would
go with him; named several Things which we had on board that he could not sell
there, and particularly told us, he had been obliged to leave several Things
there, the Caravans being not come in; and that he had ingaged to come back
again with Goods.
This was what I wanted; the Men were eager for his Going, and particularly
because he told them they might load the Sloop back with Rice and Provisions:
But I seemed backward to going; when the old Surgeon stood up, and perswaded me
to go, and with many Arguments pressed me to it; as particularly, if I did not
go, there would be no Order, and several of the Men might drop away, and perhaps
betray all the rest; and that they should not think it safe for the Sloop to go
again, if I did not go; and to urge me to it, he offered himself to go with me.
Upon these Considerations I seemed to be over-perswaded to go; and all the
Company seemed the better satisfied when I had consented: And accordingly we
took all the Powder, Lead, and Iron out of the Sloop into the great Ship, and
all the other Things that were for the Ship's Use, and put in some Bales of
Spices, and Casks or Frailes of Cloves, in all about seven Ton, and some other
Goods, among the Bales of which I had convey'd all my private Treasure, which, I
assure you, was of no small Value; and away I went.
At going off, I called a Council of all the Officers in the Ship, to consider in
what Place they should wait for me, and how long, where we appointed the Ship to
stay eight and twenty Days, at a little Island on the Arabian Side of the Gulph;
and that if the Sloop did not come in that Time, they should sail to another
Island to the West of that Place, and wait there fifteen Days more; and that
then if the Sloop did not come, they should conclude some Accident must have
happened, and the Rendezvous should be at Madagascar.
Being thus resolved, we left the Ship, which both William, and I, and the
Surgeon never intended to see any more: We steered directly for the Gulph, and
through to Bassaro, or Balsara . This City of Balsara lies at some Distance from
the Place where our Sloop lay, and the River not being very safe, and we but ill
acquainted with it, having but an ordinary Pilot, we went on Shore at a Village
where some Merchants live, and which is very populous, for the sake of small
Vessels riding there.
Here we stay'd, and traded three or four Days, landing all our Bales and Spices,
and indeed the whole Cargoe, that was of any considerable Value; which we chose
to do rather than go up immediately to Balsara, till the Project we had laid was
put in Execution.
After we had bought several Goods, and were preparing to buy several others, the
Boat being on Shore with twelve Men, my self, William, the Surgeon, and one
Fourth Man, whom we had singled out, we contrived to send a Turk, just at the
Dusk of the Evening, with a Letter to the Boatswain; and giving the Fellow a
Charge to run with all possible Speed, we stood at a small Distance to observe
the Event. The Contents of the Letter were thus written by the old Doctor.
'Boatswain Thomas,
We are all betray'd; for God's Sake make off with the Boat, and get on board, or
you are all lost. The Captain, William the Quaker, and George the Reformade are
seized and carried away; I am escaped and hid, but cannot stir out; If I do I am
a dead Man: As soon as you are on board, cut or slip, and make Sail for your
Lives.'
'Adieu.
R. S.'
We stood undiscovered, as above, it being the Dusk of the Evening, and saw the
Turk deliver the Letters; and in three Minutes we saw all the Men hurry into the
Boat, and put off; and no sooner were they on board, but they took the Hint, as
we supposed; for the next Morning they were out of Sight; and we never heard
Tale or Tidings of them since.
We were now in a good Place, and in very good Circumstances, for we past for
Merchants of Persia.
It is not material to record here what a Mass of ill-gotten Wealth we had got
together: It will be more to the Purpose to tell you, that I began to be
had very little Satisfaction in the Possession of it; and, as I told William, I
had no Expectation of keeping it, nor much Desire; but as I said to him one Day
walking out into the Fields near the Town at Bassaro, so I depended upon it,
that it would be the Case, which you will hear presently.
We were perfectly secured at Bassaro, by having frighted away the Rogues, our
Comrades; and we had nothing to do but to consider how to vert our Treasure in
Things proper to make us look like Merchants, as we were now to be, and not like
Free-booters, as we really had been.
We happened very opportunely here upon a Dutchman, who had travelled from Bengat
to Agra, the Capital City of the Great Mogut, and from thence was come to the
Coast of Malabar by Land, and got Shipping some how or other up the Gulph; and
we found his Design was to go up the great River to Bagdat or Babylon ; and so
by the Caravan to Aleppo and Scanderoon. As William spoke Dutch, and was of an
agreeable insinuating Behaviour, he soon got acquainted with this Dutchman, and
discovering our Circumstances to one another, we found he had considerable
Effects with him; and that he had traded long in that Country, and was making
homeward to his own Country; and that he had Servants with him, one an Armenian,
whom he had taught to speak Dutch, and who had something of his own, but had a
Mind to travel into Europe; and the other a Dutch Sailor, whom he had picked up
by his Fancy, and reposed a great Trust in him, and a very honest Fellow he was.
This Dutchman was very glad of an Acquaintance, because he soon found that we
directed our Thoughts to Europe also, and as he found we were encumber'd with
Goods only, for we let him know nothing of our Money, he readily offer'd us his
Assistance, to dispose of as many of them as the Place we were in would put off,
and his Advice what to do with the rest.
While this was doing, William and I consulted what to do with our selves, and
what we had; and first we resolved we would never talk seriously of any of our
Measures, but in the open Fields, where we were sure no Body could hear; so
every Evening, when the Sun began to decline, and the Air to be moderate, we
walk'd out sometimes this Way, sometimes that, to consult of our Affairs.
I should have observed, that we had new cloathed our selves here after the
Persian Manner, in long Vests of Silk, a Gown or Robe of English Crimson Cloth,
very fine and handsome, and had let our Beards grow so after the Persian Manner,
&nb
sp; that we past for Persian Merchants, in View only, tho', by the Way, we could not
understand or speak one Word of the Language of Persia, or indeed of any other
but English and Dutch, and of the latter I understood very little.
However, the Dutchman supply'd all this for us, and as we had resolved to keep
our selves as retired as we could, though there were several English Merchants
upon the Place, yet we never acquainted our selves with one of them, or
exchanged a Word with them, by which Means we prevented their Enquiry of us now,
or their giving any Intelligence of us, if any News of our Landing here should
happen to come, which it was easy for us to know, was possible enough, if any of
our Comrades fell into bad Hands, or by many Accidents which we could not
foresee.
It was during my being here, for here we stay'd near two Months, that I grew
very thoughtful about my Circumstances, not as to the Danger, neither indeed
were we in any, but were entirely conceal'd and unsuspected; but I really began
to have other Thoughts of my self, and of the World, than ever I had before.
William had struck so deep into my unthinking Temper, with hinting to me, that
there was something beyond all this, that the present Time was the Time of
Enjoyment, but that the Time of Account approached; that the Work that remain'd
was gentler than the Labour past, viz. Repentance, and that it was high Time to
think of it; I say these, and such Thoughts as these, engross'd my Hours, and in
a Word, I grew very sad.
As to the Wealth I had, which was immensely great, it was all like Dirt under my
Feet; I had no Value for it, no Peace in the Possession of it, no great Concern
about me for the leaving of it.
William had perceiv'd my Thoughts to be troubled, and my Mind heavy and opprest
for some Time; and one Evening, in one of our cool Walks, I began with him about
the leaving our Effects. William was a wise and wary Man, and indeed all the
Prudentials of my Conduct, had for a long Time been owing to his Advice, and so
now all the Methods for preserving our Effects, and even our selves lay upon
him; and he had been telling me of some of the Measures he had been taking for
short. Why, William, says I, dost thou think we shall ever be able to reach
Europe with all this Cargo that we have about us.
Ay, says William, without doubt, as well as other Merchants with theirs, as long
as it is not publickly known what Quantity, or of what Value our Cargo consists.
Why, William, says I, smiling, do you think that if there is a God above, as you
have so long been telling me there is, and that we must give an Account to him?
I say, Do you think if he be a righteous Judge, he will let us escape thus with
the Plunder, as we may call it, of so many innocent People, nay, I might say
Nations, and not call us to an Account for it before we can get to Europe, where
we pretend to enjoy it?
William appeared struck and surprized at the Question, and made no Answer for a
great while, and I repeated the Question, adding, that it was not to be
expected.
After a little Pause, says William, Thou hast started a very weighty Question,
and I can make no positive Answer to it, but I will state it thus; first, it is
Time, that if we consider the Justice of God, we have no Reason to expect any
Protection, but as the ordinary Ways of Providence are out of the common Road of
human Affairs, so we may hope for Mercy still upon our Repentance, and we know
not how good he may be to us; so we are to act as if we rather depended upon the
last, I mean the merciful Part, than claimed the first, which must produce
nothing but Judgment and Vengeance.
But hark ye, William, says I, the Nature of Repentance, as you hinted once to
me, included Reformation, and we can never reform; how then can we repent?
Why, can we never reform, says William?
Because, said I, we cannot restore what we have taken away by Rapine and Spoil.
'Tis true, says William, we can never do that, for we can never come to the
Knowledge of the Owners-
But what then must be done with our Wealth, said I, the Effects of Plunder and
Rapine? If we keep it, we continue to be Robbers and Thieves, and if we quit it,
we cannot do Justice with it, for we cannot restore it to the right Owners?
Nay, says William, the Answer to it is short; to quit what we have, and do it
here, is to throw it away to those who have no Claim to it, and to divest our
selves of it, but to do no Right with it; whereas we ought to keep it carefully
together, with a Resolution to do what Right with it we are able; and who knows
what Opportunity Providence may put into our Hands, to do Justice at least to
some of those we have injured, so we ought at least to leave it to him, and go
on, as it is, without doubt, our present Business to do, to some Place of
Safety, where we may wait his Will.
This Refolution of William was very satisfying to me indeed, as, the Truth is,
all he said, and at all Times, was solid and good; and had not William thus, as
it were, quieted my Mind, I think verily I was so alarmed at the just Reason I
had to expect Vengeance from Heaven upon me for my ill-gotten Wealth, that I
should have run away from it as the Devil's Goods; that I had nothing to do with
that did not belong to me, and that I had no Right to keep, and was in certain
Danger of being destroy'd for.
However, William settled my Mind to more prudent Steps than these, and I
concluded that I ought, however, to proceed to a Place of Safety, and leave the
Event to God Almighty's Mercy; but this I must leave upon Record, that I had
from this Time no Joy of the Wealth I had got; I look'd upon it all as a stolen,
and so indeed the greatest Part of it was; I look'd upon it as a Hoard of other
Mens Goods, which I had robbed the innocent Owners of, and which I ought, in a
Word, to be hanged for here, and damned for hereafter; and now indeed I began
sincerely to hate my self for a Dog, a Wretch that had been a Thief, and a
Murtherer; a Wretch, that was in a Condition which no Body was ever in; for I
had robb'd, and tho' I had the Wealth by me, yet it was impossible I should ever
make any Restitution; and upon this Account it run in my Head, that I could
never repent, for that Repentance could not be sincere without Restitution, and
therefore I must of Necessity be damned, there was no room for me to escape: I
went about with my Heart full of these Thoughts, little better than a distracted
Fellow; in short, running headlong into the dreadfullest Despair, and
premeditated nothing but how to rid my self out of the World; and indeed the
Devil, if such Things are of the Devil's immediate doing, followed his Work very
close with me, and nothing lay upon my Mind for several Days, but to shoot my
self into the Head with my Pistol.
I was all this while in a vagrant Life, among Infidels, Turks, Pagans, and such
Sort of People; I had no Minister, no Christian, to converse with, but poor
William, he was my Ghostly Father, or Confe
ssor, and he was all the Comfort I
had. As for my Knowledge of Religion, you have heard my History; you may suppose
I had not much, and as for the Word of God, I don't remember that I ever read a
Chapter in the Bible in my Lifetime; I was little Bob at Busselton, and went to
School to learn my Testament.
However, it pleased God to make William the Quaker every thing to me; upon this
Occasion I took him out one Evening as usual, and hurried him away into the
Fields with me, in more Haste than ordinary, and there, in short, I told him the
Perplexity of my Mind, and under what terrible Temptations of the Devil I had
been, that I must shoot my self, for I could not support the Weight and Terror
that was upon me.
Shoot your self, says William, why, what will that do for you?
Why, says I, 'twill put an End to a miserable Life.
Well, says William, are you satisfied the next will be better?
No, no, says I, much worse to be sure.
Why then, says he, shoot your self is the Devil's Notion, no doubt, for 'tis the
Devil of a Reason, that because thou art in an ill Case, that therefore thou
must put thy self into a worse.
This shock'd my Reason indeed: Well, but says I, there is no bearing the
miserable Condition I am in.
Very well, says William, but it seems there is some bearing a worse Condition,
and so you will shoot your self, that you may be past Remedy.
I am past Remedy already, says I.
How do you know that, says he?
I am satisfied of it, said I.
Well, says he, but you are not sure, so you will shoot your self to make it
certain; for tho' on this side Death you can't be sure you will be damned at
all, yet the Moment you step on the other side of Time, you are sure of it; for
when 'tis done, 'tis not to be said then that you will, but that you are damned.
Well, but, says William, as if he had been between Jest and Earnest, pray, what
didst thou dream of last Night?
Why, said I, I had frightful Dreams all Night, and particularly I dreamt that
the Devil came for me, and asked me what my Name was? and I told him, then he
askt me what Trade I was? Trade, says I, I am a Thief, a Rogue, by my Calling; I
am a Pirate, and a Murtherer, and ought to be hanged; ay, ay, says the Devil, so
you do, and you are the Man I look'd for, and therefore come along with me, at
which I was most horribly frighted, and cried out, so that it waked me, and I
have been in a horrible Agony ever since.
Very well, says William, come, give me the Pistol thou talk'st of just now.
Why, says I, what will you do with it?
Do with it, says William, why, thou needst not shoot thy self, I shall be
obliged to do it for thee, why, thou wilt destroy us all.
What do you mean, William, said I?
Mean, said he, nay, what dist thou mean? to cry out aloud in thy Sleep, I am a
Thief, a Pirate, u Murtherer, and ought to be hanged; why, thou wilt ruine us
all, 'twas well the Dutchman did not understand English: In short, I must shoot
thee to save my own Life; come, come, says he, give me thy Pistol.
I confess, this terrified me again another Way, and I began to be sensible, that
if any Body had been near me to understand English, I had been undone, and the
Thought of shooting my self forsook me from that Time, and I turned to William;
you disorder me extremely, William, said I, why, I am never safe, nor is it safe
to keep me Company, what shall I do? I shall betray you all.
Come, come, Friend Bob, says he, I'll put an End to it all, if you will take my
Advice.
How's that, said I?
Why only, says he, that the next Time thou talkest with the Devil, thou wilt
talk a little softlier, or we shall be all undone, and you too.
This frighted me, I must confess, and allay'd a great deal of the Trouble of
Mind I was in; but William, after he had done jesting with me, entered upon a
very long and serious Discourse with me about the Nature of my Circumstances,