John Barth - The Sot-Weed Factor

"What of Nicholson? Did he escape?"

"Aye," said Burlingame. "In June he fled by ship for London, and for all Leisler called him a privateer, he got back safely."

"Safely!" Ebenezer cried. "Was't not a case of frying pan to fire, to flee from Leisler into William's arms?"

Burlingame laughed. "Nay, Eben, Old Nick is not so simple a fool as that, as you shall see betimes."

"Well, what of thee, Henry? Did you make your way back to Maryland?"

"Nay again, for that were a leap to the fire indeed! 'Twas in July that Coode made his play, and by August had the Governor's Council besieged in the Mattapany blockhouse. Nay, I stayed behind in New England — first in New York and then, when Nicholson was safely out, in Boston. My design was to get Sir Edmund Andros out of Castle Island prison."

"B'm'faithl" said Ebenezer. " 'Tis a tale out of Esquemeling!"

"In more ways than one," Burlingame replied with a smile. "There lay in Boston harbor an English frigate, the Rose, designed to guard the local craft from pirates. John George, her captain, was friend enough of Andros that the rebels held him hostage, lest he bombard the town for the Governor's release. 'Twas my wish to do exactly that, if need be, and spirit him off to France aboard the Rose."

"However did you manage it?"

"I didn't, though 'twas no fault of my plan. I found me a friend of Captain George's named Thomas Pound, a pilot and mapmaker, who was ready for a price to show his loyalty to Andros. The Governor escaped, and five days later we slipped out of the harbor into Massachusetts Bay, put on the guise of pirates, and commenced to harass the fishing fleet."

" 'Sbody!"

" 'Twas our intention so to nettle them that at last they'd send out Captain George in the Rose frigate to reduce us; then we'd sail to Rhode Island, pick up Andros, and set our course for France. But ere we'd brought them to such straits, word reached us Andros was already recaptured and on his way to England."

"In any case," Ebenezer said, " 'twas a worthy attempt."

"Belike it was, to start with," Burlingame replied, "But as't turned out, when Tom Pound learned 'twas all for naught, he was in a pickle: he could not sail into Boston harbor lest he be hanged for a pirate; nor could he cross to France for lack of provision. The upshot of it was, we turned to doing in earnest what before we'd feigned."

"Nay, i'God!"

"Aye and we did: turned pirate, and prowled the northern coast for prey."

"But marry, Henry — you were with them?"

" 'Twas that or be thrown to the fishes, Eben. Aye, I fought along with the rest, nor can I say in truth I loathed it, though I felt it wrong. There is a charm in outlawry that the good man little dreams of. . 'Tis a liquor — "

"I pray you were not long drunk with it!" Ebenezer said. "It seems a perilous brew."

" 'Tis no pap for sucklings, I must own. For full two months Pound robbed and plundered, though he seldom got aught for his pain save salt pork and fresh water. In October he was set on by a Boston sloop off Martha's Vineyard, and every soul aboard killed or wounded. I, thank Heav'n, had made my escape some weeks before, in Virginia, and inasmuch as I'd assumed another name throughout my stay in New England, I little feared detection. I made the best of't back to Maryland and rejoined Dick Hill in Anne Arundel, who'd long since given me up for dead. I was the more anxious to leave Pound for that John Coode knew Captain Hill for an enemy and was sure to work him some injury ere long. Moreover, I had another reason, more selfish, it may be, but no less pressing: I had word that there were Burlingames in Virginia!"

"Nay, 'tis marvelous!" cried Ebenezer. "Kin of thine?"

"That I knew not, nor whether any were yet alive; I had it only that a Burlingame — in sooth a Henry Burlingame — was among the very first to settle in that dominion, and I meant to find excuse to go there and make enquiries."

"How ever came you to hear of't, while you sailed willy-nilly o'er the ocean? 'Tis of the stature of a miracle!"

"No miracle, or 'tis an odd God worked it. The tale is no marvel of brevity, Eben."

"Yet it must be told," Ebenezer insisted.

Burlingame shrugged. " Twas while I was with Pound, at the height of his pirating. Our usual prey was small merchantmen and coasting vessels; we would overhaul them, steal what pleased us, and turn 'em loose, offering hurt to none save those who made to resist us. But once when a nor'easter had blown us into Virginian waters we came upon an ancient pinnace at the mouth of the York River, bound up the Chesapeake, which, when we had turned out all her crew for looting, we found to carry three passengers besides: a coarse fellow of fifty years or so; his wife, who was some years younger; and their daughter, a girl not yet turned twenty. She was an uncommon tasty piece, by the look of her, dark-haired and spirited, and her mother not much less. At the sight of them our men put by all thought of plunder, which had in truth been lean, and made to swive the twain of 'em then and there. Captain Pound durst not say them nay, albeit he was himself opposed to violence, for such was their ferocity, having seen nor hide nor hair of woman, as't were, since we sailed from Boston, they'd have mutinied on the spot. And had I made the smallest move to stay them, they'd have flung me in an instant to the fishes!

"In a trice the ruffians stripped 'em and fetched 'em to the rail. 'Tis e'er the pirates' wont to take their captives at the rail, you know, whether bent on't backwards or triced hand to foot o'ertop. A mate of mine saw a maid once forced by thirteen brigands in the former manner, with the taffrail at the small of her back, till at last they broke her spine and heaved her over. 'Tis but to make the thing more cruel, methinks, they do it thus: Captain Hill once told me of an old French rogue he'd met in Martinique, that swore no woman pleased him save when staring at the sharks who'd have her when the rape was done, and that having once tasted such refined delights he ne'er could roger mistresses ashore."

"No more, I pray you!" Ebenezer cried. " 'Tis not a history of the salvagery I crave, but news of the hapless victims."

"Thou'rt overly impatient, then," Burlingame said mildly. "The vilest deed hath a lesson in it for him who craves to learn. Howbeit, where did I leave the women?"

"At the ship's rail, with their virtue in extremis."

"Ah, indeed, 'twas a bad hour to be female, for sixteen men lined up to ravage 'em. The husband all the while was begging mercy for himself, with never a word for the women, and the wife resisting with all her strength; but the girl, when she saw the pirates' design, spoke quickly to her mother in French, which none aboard could ken save me, and she made no resistance, but asked the sailors calmly, with a French cast to her voice, which they had more use for, her chastity or a hundred pounds apiece? At first the men ignored her, so taken were they by the sight of her unclothed. But all the way to the rail she pled her case — or rather posed her offer, for her voice was cold and merchantlike. She was of French nobility, she declared, and her mother likewise, and should they meet with injury the entire crew would surely hang for't; but if they were set free unscathed, every man aboard would have a hundred pounds within the week.

"Here I saw a chance to aid them, if I could but stay the pirates' lust a moment. To that end I joined their fondling — even pushed some others aside and forced her to the rail myself, as if to take first place — but then delayed, and when she made again her offer I cried, 'Hold back, mates, and let us hear the wench out ere we caulk her. 'Tis many a tart we could have with a hundred pounds.' I reminded them further of our plan to cross to France when we'd had our fill of pirating, and questioned whether 'twere prudent so to imperil our reception there. My chief intention was to stay them for a time at least and make them reflect, for reflection is a famous foe of violence — 'tis a beast indeed who rapes on second thought! So far did the stratagem succeed, the men began to jeer and scoff at the proposal, but made no farther move for the nonce.