At last, however, the grapnels were thrown, and the pirate captain boarded the Kent, followed by half his crew of cutthroats, and decided the contest hand to hand. The American crew fought to the last, notwithstanding the hopeless character of the contest, for they knew full well that they had better fall in battle than to be subjected to the almost certain cruel death that would await them if they should fail into the hands of the Bucaniers alive.
Thus, although overpowered and borne down by numbers, the captain of the Kent had already shot the pirate chief through the brain and another of the enemy with his remaining pistol, while his cutlass had drank the heart’s blood of more than one, before he felt himself, pierced with many a fatal wound; and thus had each of the crew fought until only three remained, who had shown equally fatal battle with the rest, but were now disarmed and lay bound and bleeding upon the deck. One of them was William Lovell. He lay bleeding, as we have said, from many wounds, with his two comrades, the ship being now completely in the hands of the Bucaniers. The Kent proved but a poor prize for the freebooters, though she had cost them so dearly. After taking such valuables out of her as they chose, they scuttled her, and she sunk where she lay.
Young Lovell and his comrades were taken on board the piratical vessel, and after a consultation among its leaders were told that their lives would be spared them if they would join the now short handed crew – The Bucaniers were induced to make this proposition partly because the prisoners had proved themselves to be brave men, and partly because of their own weakness, after the fierce and sanguinary encounter they had just experienced, the crew of the Kent having actually killed nearly twice their own number, leaving but about fifteen men alive of the pirate crew. The love of life is strong within us all, and Lovell and his companions agreed to the terms offered them, determining to seek an early occasion to escape from the vessel, yet for many months were they the witnesses of scenes of blood-shed and wickedness which they had not the least power to avert.
The West Indian seas since the times of the earliest navigators have ever been the resort of Bucaniers and reckless bands of freebooters, and even to this day, notwithstanding the strong fleet of national vessels kept upon the stations by the American and English governments, there are still organized bands of these desperadoes now existing, engaged in the ostensible occupation of fishermen, but only awaiting a favorable opportunity to resume their old calling. It is rumored on very good authority, that there now lies much wealth buried upon the Tortagos, an island renowned in the early history of the new world, and celebrated as being in former days the rendezvous of the bold rovers who frequented the West Indies in those days. After capturing their prey in the neighboring seas, the Bucaniers returned to their favorite haunt, and there buried their surplus treasures, then departing again upon their dangerous and bloody expeditions many must necessarily have perished. No one knew where his companion’s treasure was buried, consequently it may still remain hidden in its concealment, the spot known only to the spirit of the departed Bucanier.
Tortagos is entirely uninhabited and separated from Hayti only by a ship’s channel of about a league in width, and to which it belongs. The laws have long forbidden its settlement, but for what reason we are not informed. Here lay the bones of the rovers who used to rendezvous in the island, side by side with their blood-bought and useless wealth. No public search has ever been made for the hidden booty, and why may we not look for some valuable disclosure in course of time?
The vessel in which Lovell and his two companions had been forced to enlist, was cruising in search of a prey with which they might cope, with a prospect of success and booty, just off the island of Cuba, one fine clear night, when it was determined by Lovell and his friends to attempt to make their escape to the land. In the middle watch which chanced to fall to the share of these three whom the pirate crew had learned to trust implicitly, believing them to be content with their situation, they put the vessel before the wind, and lashing the helm amidship, took a small boat with a few articles of personal property only, and stole away quietly from their floating prison, and after many hardships landed at Havana. Hardly had the three made their appearance here before they were thrown into prison on suspicion, to await their trial for piracy. They were strangers to the language spoken on the island, had no friends there to intercede in their behalf, and indeed matters looked gloomy enough; nor had they much doubt in their own minds that they should be convicted of the charge brought against them. The day on which they were shut up within the cold, damp, and cheerless wails of the prison, was just one year subsequent to that of their leaving Boston harbor, in the good ship Royal Kent. Again and again did they regret that they had not fallen upon the deck of their own ship rather than thus to be murdered by the Spaniards under the charge of piracy upon the sea.
In this harrowing state of suspense, Lovell, with Jack Herbert and Henry Breed, his comrades in captivity, remained for nearly six months before they were summoned for their trial, and then no sufficient evidence appearing against them, they were further remanded to prison. This was in a time of war and contention, and dangers of every kind lurked about the islands and harbors of the West Indies, and in the crowd of other matters the poor prisoners and their case was entirely forgotten. Thus they were likely to remain perhaps for years, in a confinement scarcely more desirable than death itself, save that there still remained a single gleam of hope within their breasts that they might some day be freed. Ah! bright and heaven born Hope, thou art the solace of many an aching heart, and the supporter of many a weary and almost-disconsolate spirit.
While incarcerated in this living tomb, young Lovell’s mind would often revert to the captain of the King’s cutter, whom he knew to be familiar with Fanny, and who had caused him no small degree of unhappiness on his leaving his now far off home. ‘He will have ample time and opportunity to supplant me,’ said Lovell to himself, ‘for Fanny may believe me dead, and thus be induced to give way to his importunities. – Heaven protect her,’ thought Lovell to himself. ‘His motives I fear cannot possibly be of an honorable character.’
While Lovell was thus prompted by his feelings in a prison far away, the drama was still going on at home, and in the family of the Campbells. Captain Burnett was now more frequent in his visits to the High Rock Hamlet, and Fanny still received him on the same kind terms as ever, and they were still good friends. If the officer of the crown did sometimes attempt to talk of love, she would silence him with a look of reproach, or some playful rejoinder, which was ever successful, and thus she kept him as he termed it to one of his confidential messmates in the fleet, constantly in suspense.’
‘Hang it,’ said he on the occasion alluded to, and to his comrade, ‘I would do anything for the girl, even to giving up my commission, for I believe she has really got my heart, if I have any – I never knew I had before, that’s certain.’
‘You would have to turn rebel to get her, Burnet,’ said his friend; ‘if she be so strong a one as you have always told me.’
‘I’ll tell thee between ourselves,’ said Burnet in reply, ‘if I thought I could get the girl’s heart thereby, I would join the continentals to-morrow, and furthermore, I must say that it is the only inducement that could be offered me to do so, though I believe them more than half in the right.’
‘You are serious, Burnet?’
‘Serious, upon my honor.’
‘To what length will the little god carry us in his blind service,’ said his friend. ‘I give you up entirely Burnet. It’s a clear case.’
‘To which I plead guilty.’
The attention of Captain Burnet at the cottage and to Fanny, had become so marked and decided that the gossips of the community – a class of people who know everything, and especially more of other people’s affairs than their own – had fully engaged him to Fanny, and made her give up William Lovell unconditionally.
Nearly two years had passed since the first imprisonment of Lovell and his companions, when by a happy chance Jack Herbert succeeded in making his escape on board of a vessel bound for Boston,