The Man Who Was Robinson Crusoe

by Rick Wilson

  There is a Scottish trait of which the country cannot be too proud; after a brief welcome, even the most deserving of returning sons are often shunned as a reaction not unrelated to envy. Though most of his ill-fitting oddness was more talked-about than witnessed, the Largo community, in that peculiar Scottish way, had quickly begun to take its famous son – at least – for granted. Then there was some resentment. And after a few months there was even a touch of contempt, born of growing familiarity. That put the seal on it. He had assumed that, if he harboured any hopes of settling down in Largo, the realisation of that dream would depend on how he got along with its people and vice versa. But it eventually became abundantly clear to both parties that they were never going to get along; that this was a dream which simply could not – after all that water under the bridge – come to pass. Which was how the happy ending inevitably went wrong.

  And then there was Sophia Bruce. She could have brought about a happy ending. She certainly represented a happy new beginning for Alexander Selkirk, just as things were beginning to come to a head in the village; just as he was making quiet plans for another departure.

  It was on one of his early walks up into Keil’s Den to the high-ferned ruins of the 16th-century Pitcruvie Castle, a mile or so above the village, that he became intrigued by something more than the babbling of the burn. As he weaved through the trees, grass and bluebells, meditating as he walked amid the morning birdsong, something else caught his ear. What was that sound? He slowed to a stop so that his boots would no longer crack on twigs in the undergrowth, and as he focused more closely, he realised it was the sound of a young woman’s sweet voice, singing ...

  Will ye gang tae the Heilands Leezie Lindsay

  Will ye gang tae the Heilands wi’ me

  Will ye gang tae the Heilands Leezie Lindsay

  My bride and my darling tae be

  He inched towards the sound and saw that the singer was a young milkmaid tending to a single cow in a small area of meadow. He did not approach her but listened with pleasure at a respectful distance – not just that day but for several days in secret thereafter, the sight and sound being so sweet to his eye and his ear that he began to look forward to hearing them as often as possible. And so it went on, day after day – until a large twig did indeed crack under his foot. When that happened, the girl stopped singing and turned, with a gasp of alarm, to look into the woods for the source of the noise. Knowing she would then seek him out, Alexander stepped forward through the rustling leaves with his hands outstretched in a reassuring gesture, as if to say: ‘Don’t panic.’ As he came closer, he saw that she was prettier than even she looked from afar, red-haired with green eyes, and aged about 18. Those eyes were wide with surprise, but he hoped it wasn’t shock, as he said, ‘Please keep singing’.

  But she didn’t. Not there and then. Claiming to be too shy to sing in front of a stranger, she chose instead to find out something about her secret admirer, and she modestly began to talk and enquire about him; and Alexander reckoned that, if after a while she did not consider him a stranger, she might sing for him again.

  In the event, she did much more than that. Once they established an interest in each other – she was impressed by his experience of the world and by his relative wealth – Alexander visited her in the Den almost daily. He learned that she was the orphaned daughter of a crofter and his wife and that she looked after the cow for her three uncles, all of whom were ministers of the Kirk. Strangely, her innocent artlessness won his rare trust and he found her not only so sweetly appealing but also, clearly available. More to the point, he could see that she had not only enjoyed his company but had begun to trust him too. He had rough edges, but he could also be a man of honour, if Woodes Rogers’ account of his treatment of the Guayaquil women is to be believed. So he got to thinking that maybe his forthcoming departure would not have to be as a lone male ...

  It is not known whether Alexander and Sophia ‘consummated’ their growing mutual attraction in the woods, but they certainly got along well and became thoroughly committed to each other as lovers, to the point where Alexander proposed not just running away together to London but marriage itself. To his delight, she accepted, and so his life once again took on some kind of shape.

  For both, however, it was an arrangement kept secret from the villagers, for this odd couple were well aware that such a relationship – an innocent teenage girl and a hard-bitten sailor of almost twice her age – would be ridiculed not just by her uncles but by all Selkirk’s friends and relatives. So early one morning he quietly abandoned his revisited past – his cave, his boat, his property, his chest, his musket and all his clothes and appurtenances; but he did carry a large amount of money when he joined Sophia as she, travelling much lighter, slipped away from her uncles without telling them of their impulsive plan to live together in London.

  Chapter 8

  London and the End

  Many an Evil Ship had I seen in my Time, but yon HMS Weymouth was a Vessell that had come upon a Measure of Distress nary imaginable by Myself nor any of the Puir Souls aboard Her. Making her Course along the West African Shore, in search of Pirates, which was to me a great Irony having near enough border’d that State in mine own Past, she fell into Terrible Misfortunes. These were not of the Sea, nor of Man, whom we had been well prepar’d to fight, but of the Auld Deill’s Nature. The Great, silent Curse came down without Mercy in the Middle of this year 1721, and it is nigh Impossible to describe how truly murtherous was this Savage Scourge visited upon us; a Monster of unmixed Malignancy.

  The first man so taken was the Purser, Mr White; three days thereafter the Wretched disease claim’d Mr Peine, the Schoolmaster, and I though not yet Sick myself I was already become fatigu’d an exhaust’d helping those others who began to Succumb and in facing the Prospect of what was yet to come. Yet it proved worse than all my Imaginings, furiously ravaging the Common Sailors who huddl’d together in Miserable Conditions in the Forecastle, and neither showing Mercy among the Officers of ruddier Health. The stench of death was all around, amid the Groans of Fatal Agonies, coming to their worst by September when 31 men perished in its 30 Days. I endeavour’d to dispense some Chilled Soup and Hope where I could among the wretchedly doom’d, yet all the While feeling deep in my Bones that mine own Time was soon a-coming ...

  It would have been pleasant to record that, despite all our misgivings about the character of the ‘excellent sailing master’ who could be trusted at sea but was an outrageous rogue on land, there was some kind of happy ending to this tale. It looked like there might have been at one point, when, after the inevitable disillusionment of life back in the small world of Lower Largo, he and his young bride-to-be Sophia Bruce took their leave of the village together for what they expected would be ‘the good life’ in London. They were presumably in love, after all, and brimming with the anticipation of a new beginning.

  But too soon, her singing would be over. She may have arrived in a coach of fine livery, but the wide-eyed country girl was almost paralysed by culture shock. She certainly saw the many surprises of the capital alive with colourful markets, street performers, strange foreign animals, circuses, and public houses overflowing with strong alcohol. It was this last commodity that was to spoil her young love’s dream. While he had stayed relatively sober back in Scotland, Selkirk was soon finding a new refuge – behind large measures of gin – from which to sentimentally remember his beloved island. Indeed, it seemed that for him no love could ever compare with it.

  Within months the novelty of young love had worn off for Alexander as it always seemed to do. In London, he was still a much talked-about man with a degree of celebrity and (despite not enjoying it) some coarse confidence in London circles, while she was a shy country lass with a strong Fife accent who, pretty as she was, could not possibly hold her own in company without his wholehearted support. She did not get it. Digs were found in a central London alleyway called Pelmel, near what is now Trafalgar Square; but they spen
t precious little time there together. Despite the apparent reassurance she felt as a ‘common-law’wife,* Sophia had expected her mariner to formally marry her in church, as he had promised. But as he kept neglecting her and delaying the moment, it had not happened (although Sophia later said it had) by the time he once again answered the call of the sea and enlisted as an officer in the navy.

  Bewildered by her man’s wish to return to the dangers of the sea that he had so luckily escaped with his life so many times, Sophia had pleaded with him not to be a sailor again. But he knew there was no escape from the urge to stop his gin-soaked dreaming, so he turned his back on her.

  One of his early assignments was on board HMS Enterprise, a supply ship whose mission would ironically take him back to Scotland where it was one of five navy vessels engaged in the taking of Eilan Donan castle at the mouth of Loch Alsh on May 10, 1719. The castle had been garrisoned with Spanish soldiers as part of a Jacobite uprising which was to end in failure for the rebels at the Battle of Glen Shiel one month later. Selkirk had joined up nearly two years before on March 4, 1717 – a day which Sophia was later to name as her marriage date and which came nearly two months after he had undertaken one apparently decent thing in her respect. For on the previous January 13, in Wapping, he had made out the following will to her benefit:

  SELKIRK’S WILL IN FAVOUR OF SOPHIA BRUCE (1717)

  In the name of God, Amen, I, Alexander Silkirk of Largo, in the shire of Fife, in north Brittaine, mariner, being now bound out on a voyage to sea, but calling to mind the perrills and dangers of the seas, and other uncertaintys of this transitory life, doe, for avoiding controversies and disputes which may happen to arise after my decease, make, publish and declare this my last will and testament, in manner and form following, (that is to say), first and principly I recommend my soul into the hands of Almighty God that gave it, hoping for the salvation thereof through the alone merritts, death and sufferings of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and my body I commit to the earth or sea, as it shall please God in his infinite wisdome to order and direct; and as for and concerning that portion of this world, which the Lord hath been pleased to lend unto me, I give and dispose thereof as follows (viz.)

  Item, I give and bequeath unto my loveing friend, Katherine Mason, the wife of John Mason of the parish of Covent-Garden, merchant-taylor, the summe of tenne pounds of good and lawful money of Great Brittaine, to be paid her within twelve months after my decease.

  Item, I give and bequeath unto my loveing and well-beloved friend, Sophia Bruce of the Pelmel, London, spinster, all and singular my lands, tenements, out-houses, gardens, yards, orchards, situate, lyeing and being in Largo aforesaid, or in any other place or places whatsoever, during her natural life, and noe longer; and at and after her decease I hereby give, devise and bequeath the same unto my loving nephew, Alexander Silkirk, sone of David Silkirk of Largo aforesaid, tanner, &c, and to his heirs or assignes.

  Item, my will and minde is, and I hereby declare it so to be, that my honoured father, John Silkirk, should have and enjoy the eastermust house on the Craggy Wall in Largo aforesaid for and during his natural life, and have and receive the rents, issues and profits thereof, to his owne proper use; and that after his decease it should fall into the hands of my said loveing friend, Sophia Bruce, and so into the hands of my said loveing nephew, Alexander Silkirk, in case he outlive my said loveing friend, Sophia Bruce; and as for and concerning all and singular the rest, residue, and remainder of my sallery, wages, goods, weres, profits, merchandizes, sume and sumes of money, gold, silver, wearing apparel, as well as linnen and woollen, and all other my effects whatsoever, as well as debt outstanding either by bond, bill, book, accompt, or otherwise, as any other thing whatsoever, which shall be due, owing, payable, and belonging or in anywise of right appertaining unto me at the time of my decease, and not herein otherwise disposed of; I hereby give, devise and bequeath the same unto my said loveing friend, Sophia Bruce, and to her heires and assignes for ever; and I do hereby nominate, make, elect and appoint, my said trusty and loveing friend, Sophia Bruce, full and sole executrix of this my last will and testament; hereby revoaking and makeing voyd and of none effect all former and other wills, testaments, and deeds of gifts whatsoever by me, at any time or times heretofore made, and I doe ordain and ratifie these presents, and no other, to stand and be for, and as my only last will and testament; in witness whereof, to this my said will, I, the said testator, Alexander Silkirk, have hereunto set my hand and seale the thirteenth day of January, anno. Domini 1717, and in the 4th year of King George, &c.

  ALEXANDER SELKIRK

  Signed, sealed, published and declared, by the testator, for his last will and testament in the presence of

  ALEXANDER BUSHAN

  SARAH HOLMAN

  It was a very full will comprehensively in her favour. So it was understandable that, despite feeling neglected in London by her often-carousing man – and now being resigned to the lot of the rarely-visited sailor’s wife – Sophia could at least consider herself to be financially and materially safe and secure in the event of his dying at sea or (heaven forbid) his falling victim to that age-old problem of the man-at-sea: a girl in every port, or at least two.

  In the event, it was she who was to fall victim to both of these matters. Neglect was one thing, but Selkirk effectively abandoned his young Fife lass when, less than a year later, he stepped on the boards of the Gulf of Guinea-bound naval warship HMS Weymouth to take up the position of Lieutenant (or First Mate) on a voyage that did not get off to a great start and was to end not just in grief but in an unimaginably messy legal wrangle.

  Indeed, the start of the ship’s mission was oddly tardy, with the preparatory trip between London and the Cornwall Peninsula taking around two years. Apparently awaiting Admiralty orders, it anchored around Portsmouth and Plymouth for inordinately long periods and its frustrated crewmen inevitably found themselves spending more and more time ashore.

  It was as if the ship sensed her fate and was reluctant to go out and meet it and there was even a whole month’s wait after it was loaded in November 1720 with supplies of beef, pork, peas, oatmeal, butter, cheeses, rum, ‘biskett’ and water. No doubt powered by lust and flip the ship’s bored sailors were almost bound to get up to no good. In Selkirk’s case, that meant – because his ‘loveing friend’ Sophia was so far away and unavailable for sex – he would have to focus on someone else nearer to hand. That someone was indeed quite near: she was one Frances Candis or Candia, the buxom landlady of his favourite public house at Oarston, who had grown hardened and cynical under the constant flirtatious attentions of her clientele.

  Selkirk wanted her badly, especially when he had had a few. But she was a clever gold-digger and remained apparently unimpressed by his boasts of adventure and the great personal wealth they had yielded (he was worth the then-great sum of £1000, he said). She sensed her sexual power and a money-making opportunity and made it clear that if he were ever to enjoy the great privilege of sleeping with her, the price would be high. It would not just be marriage but also a will bequeathing all of his goods to her ...

  To Alexander Selkirk, this was just a matter of a piece of paper – or two. No doubt he calculated that, if his affairs ever came to a posthumous dispute, Sophia’s claim (and her common-law rights under Scots law) might just scupper this arrangement with Frances so that he would have got his wicked way no matter what. On December 12, 1720, just a few days before HMS Weymouth finally set sail for Africa, he and Frances Candis were married in a Church of England ceremony in St Andrew’s Parish Church in Plymouth. On the same day he was obliged to visit a notary in the town, who wrote another will in the name of Alexander Selkirk (or Silkirk, as it appeared on the brief document). Despite her initial resistance to Selkirk’s entreaties – she said later in court that she hadn’t even wanted to marry him – there was no doubt a smile on the face of the scheming new Mrs Selkirk, for she was to gain considerable advantage in life by holding this tawd
ry piece of paper very close to her ample bosom.

  SELKIRK’S WILL IN FAVOUR OF FRANCES CANDIS (1720)

  In the Name of God, Amen, I Alexander Silkirk of Oarston within the P’ish of Plymstock in the County of Devon, Mate of his Maj’ties Shipp Weymouth, being in bodily Health and of sound and disposeing Mind and Memory, and considering the Perils and Dangers of the Seas, and other uncertainties of this Transitory Life, do for avoiding Controversies after my Decease, Make, Publish and declare this my last Will and Testament in manner following. (That is to say) First I recommend my Soul to God that gave it, and my Body I commit to the Earth or Sea as it shall please god to Order; and as or and concerning all my Worldly Estate, I give, and Bequeath, and Dispose thereof as followeth. (That is to say) All such Wages, Sum and Sums of Money, Lands, Tenements, goods, Chattels and Estate whatsoever, as shall be in any ways due, owing or belonging to me at the Time of my Decease, I do give, Devise and Bequeath the same unto my welbeloved wife Frances Silkirk of Oarston aforesd & her Assignes forever.

  And I do hereby Nominate and Appoint my sd wife Frances the whole and sole Executrix of this my last Will and Testament hereby Revoking all former and other Wills, Testaments and Deeds of gift by me at any Time heretofore made: And I do Ordain and Ratify these presents to Stand and be for my only last will and Testament. In Witness whereof to this my said Will, I have set my Hand and Seal the Twelfth Day of December Annoq. Dom 1720 and in the Seventh year of the Reign of his Majesty King George over Great Britain, & c.

  Alexander Selkirk

  Signed Sealed and Published, in the presence of us, Step Turtleff