by Daniel Defoe
However, the offer which was made to him of transportation was made, as I understood, upon the intercession of some great person who pressed him hard to accept of it; and as he knew there were several that might come in against him, I thought his friend was in the right, and I lay at him night and day to delay it no longer.
At last, with much difficulty, he gave his consent; and as he was not therefore admitted to transportation in court, and on his petition, as I was, so he found himself under a difficulty to avoid embarking himself, as I had said he might have done, his friend having given security for him that he should transport himself and not return within the term.
This hardship broke all my measures, for the steps I took afterwards for my own deliverance were hereby rendered wholly ineffectual unless I would abandon him and leave him to go to America by himself, than which he protested he would much rather go directly to the gallows.
I must now return to my own case. The time of my being transported was near at hand; my governess, who continued my fast friend, had tried to obtain a pardon, but it could not be done unless with an expense too heavy for my purse, considering that to be left empty, unless I had resolved to return to my old trade, had been worse than transportation, because there I could live, here I could not. The good minister stood very hard on another account to prevent my being transported also; but he was answered that my life had been given me at his first solicitations, and therefore he ought to ask no more. He was sensibly grieved at my going because, as he said, he feared I should lose the good impressions which a prospect of death had at first made on me and which were since increased by his instructions; and the pious gentleman was exceedingly concerned on that account.
On the other hand, I was not so solicitous about it now, but I concealed my reasons for it from the minister, and to the last he did not know but that I went with the utmost reluctance and affliction.
It was in the month of February that I was, with thirteen other convicts, delivered to a merchant that traded to Virginia, on board a ship riding in Deptford Reach. The officer of the prison delivered us on board, and the master of the vessel gave a discharge for us.
We were for that night clapped under hatches and kept so close that I thought I should have been suffocated for want of air; and the next morning the ship weighed, and fell down the river to a place called Bugby’s Hole, which was done, as they told us, by the agreement of the merchant, that all opportunity of escape should be taken from us. However, when the ship came thither and cast anchor, we were permitted to come upon the deck, but not upon the quarter-deck, that being kept particularly for the captain and for passengers.
When by the noise of the men over my head and the motion of the ship I perceived they were under sail, I was at first greatly surprised, fearing we should go away and that our friends would not be admitted to see us; but I was easy soon after, when I found they had come to an anchor, and that we had notice given by some of the men that the next morning we should have the liberty to come upon deck and to have our friends come to see us.
All that night I lay upon the hard deck as the other prisoners did, but we had afterwards little cabins allowed for such as had any bedding to lay in them, and room to stow any box or trunk for clothes, and linen if we had it (which might well be put in), for some of them had neither shirt or shift, linen or woollen, but what was on their backs, or one farthing of money to help themselves; yet I did not find but they fared well enough in the ship, especially the women, who got money of the seamen for washing their clothes, etc., sufficient to purchase anything they wanted.
When the next morning we had the liberty to come upon deck, I asked one of the officers whether I might not be allowed to send a letter on shore to let my friends know where we lay and to get some necessary things sent to me. This was the boatswain, a very civil, courteous man, who told me I should have any liberty that I desired that he could allow me with safety. I told him I desired no other; and he answered, the ship’s boat would go up to London next tide, and he would order my letter to be carried.
Accordingly, when the boat went off, the boatswain came and told me the boat was going off, that he went in it himself, and if my letter was ready, he would take care of it. I had prepared pen, ink, and paper beforehand, and had gotten a letter ready directed to my governess and enclosed another to my fellow-prisoner, which, however, I did not let her know was my husband, not to the last. In that to my governess, I let her know where the ship lay and pressed her to send me what things she had got ready for me for my voyage.
When I gave the boatswain the letter, I gave him a shilling with it, which I told him was for the charge of a porter, which I had entreated him to send with the letter as soon as he came on shore, that if possible I might have an answer brought back by the same hand, that I might know what was become of my things; “for, sir,” says I, “if the ship should go away before I have them, I am undone.”
I took care, when I gave him the shilling, to let him see I had a little better furniture about me than the ordinary prisoners; that I had a purse and in it a pretty deal of money; and I found that the very sight of it immediately furnished me with very different treatment from what I should otherwise have met with; for though he was courteous indeed before, in a kind of natural compassion to me as a woman in distress, yet he was more than ordinarily so afterwards, and procured me to be better treated in the ship than, I say, I might otherwise have been; as shall appear in its place.
He very honestly delivered my letter to my governess’ own hands and brought me back her answer; and when he gave it me, gave me the shilling again. “There,” says he, “there’s your shilling again too, for I delivered the letter myself.” I could not tell what to say, I was so surprised at the thing; but after some pause I said, “Sir, you are too kind; it had been but reasonable that you had paid yourself coach-hire, then.”
“No, no,” says he, “I am overpaid. What is that gentlewoman? Is she your sister?”
“No, sir,” said I, “she is no relation to me, but she is a dear friend, and all the friends I have in the world.” “Well,” says he, “there are few such friends. Why, she cries after you like a child.” “Aye,” says I again, “she would give a hundred pound, I believe, to deliver me from this dreadful condition.”
“Would she so?” says he. “For half the money I believe I could put you in a way how to deliver yourself.” But this he spoke softly, that nobody could hear.
“Alas! sir,” said I, “but then that must be such a deliverance as if I should be taken again would cost me my life.” “Nay,” said he, “if you were once out of the ship, you must look to yourself afterwards; that I can say nothing to.” So we dropped the discourse for that time.
In the meantime, my governess, faithful to the last moment, conveyed my letter to the prison to my husband, and got an answer to it, and the next day came down herself, bringing me, in the first place, a sea-bed, as they call it, and all its ordinary furniture. She brought me also a sea-chest—that is, a chest such as are made for seamen, with all the conveniences in it and filled with everything almost that I could want; and in one of the corners of the chest, where there was a private drawer, was my bank of money—that is to say, so much of it as I had resolved to carry with me; for I ordered part of my stock to be left behind to be sent afterwards in such goods as I should want when I came to settle; for money in that country is not of much use where all things are bought for tobacco; much more is it a great loss to carry it from hence.
But my case was particular; it was by no means proper for me to go without money or goods, and for a poor convict that was to be sold as soon as I came on shore, to carry a cargo of goods would be to have notice taken of it, and perhaps to have them seized; so I took part of my stock with me thus, and left the rest with my governess.
My governess brought me a great many other things, but it was not proper for me to appear too well, at least till I knew what kind of a captain we should have. When she came into the ship, I th
ought she would have died indeed; her heart sunk at the sight of me and at the thoughts of parting with me in that condition; and she cried so intolerably I could not for a long time have any talk with her.
I took that time to read my fellow-prisoner’s letter, which greatly perplexed me. He told me it would be impossible for him to be discharged time enough for going in the same ship, and which was more than all, he began to question whether they would give him leave to go in what ship he pleased, though he did voluntarily transport himself; but that they would see him put on board such a ship as they should direct, and that he would be charged upon the captain as other convict prisoners were; so that he began to be in despair of seeing me till he came to Virginia, which made him almost desperate, seeing that, on the other hand, if I should not be there, if any accident of the sea or of mortality should take me away, he should be the most undone creature in the world.
This was very perplexing, and I knew not what course to take. I told my governess the story of the boatswain, and she was mighty eager with me to treat with him; but I had no mind to it till I heard whether my husband, or fellow-prisoner, so she called him, could be at liberty to go with me or no. At last I was forced to let her into the whole matter, except only that of his being my husband. I told her that I had made a positive agreement with him to go if he could get the liberty of going in the same ship and I found he had money.
Then I told her what I proposed to do when we came there, how we could plant, settle, and, in short, grow rich without any more adventures; and as a great secret I told her we were to marry as soon as he came on board.
She soon agreed cheerfully to my going when she heard this, and she made it her business from that time to get him delivered in time so that he might go in the same ship with me, which at last was brought to pass, though with great difficulty and not without all the forms of a transported convict, which he really was not, for he had not been tried, and which was a great mortification to him. As our fate was now determined, and we were both on board, actually bound to Virginia, in the despicable quality of transported convicts destined to be sold for slaves, I for five years and he under bonds and security not to return to England any more as long as he lived, he was very much dejected and cast down; the mortification of being brought on board as he was, like a prisoner, piqued him very much, since it was first told him he should transport himself, so that he might go as a gentleman at liberty. It is true he was not ordered to be sold when he came there, as we were, and for that reason he was obliged to pay for his passage to the captain, which we were not; as to the rest, he was as much at a loss as a child what to do with himself but by directions.
However, I lay in an uncertain condition full three weeks, not knowing whether I should have my husband with me or no, and therefore not resolved how or in what manner to receive the honest boatswain’s proposal, which indeed he thought a little strange.
At the end of this time, behold my husband came on board. He looked with a dejected, angry countenance; his great heart was swelled with rage and disdain to be dragged along with three keepers of Newgate and put on board like a convict when he had not so much as been brought to a trial. He made loud complaints of it by his friends, for it seems he had some interest; but they got some check in their application, and were told he had had favour enough and that they had received such an account of him since the last grant of his transportation that he ought to think himself very well treated that he was not prosecuted anew. This answer quieted him, for he knew too much what might have happened and what he had room to expect; and now he saw the goodness of that advice to him which prevailed with him to accept of the offer of transportation. And after his chagrin at these hell-hounds, as he called them, was a little over, he looked more composed, began to be cheerful, and as I was telling him how glad I was to have him once more out of their hands he took me in his arms and acknowledged with great tenderness that I had given him the best advice possible. “My dear,” says he, “thou hast twice saved my life; from henceforward it shall be employed for you, and I’ll always take your advice.”
Our first business was to compare our stock. He was very honest to me and told me his stock was pretty good when he came into the prison, but that living there as he did like a gentleman and, which was much more, the making of friends and soliciting his case had been very expensive; and, in a word, all his stock left was £108, which he had about him in gold.
I gave him an account of my stock as faithfully, that is to say, what I had taken with me; for I was resolved, whatever should happen, to keep what I had left in reserve; that in case I should die, what I had was enough to give him, and what was left in my governess’ hands would be her own, which she had well deserved of me indeed.
My stock which I had with me was £246, some odd shillings; so that we had £354 between us, but a worse-gotten estate was never put together to begin the world with.
Our greatest misfortune as to our stock was that it was in money, an unprofitable cargo to be carried to the plantations. I believe his was really all he had left in the world, as he told me it was; but I, who had between £700 and £800 in bank when this disaster befell me, and who had one of the faithfullest friends in the world to manage it for me, considering she was a woman of no principles, had still £300 left in her hand, which I had reserved, as above; besides, I had some very valuable things with me, as particularly two gold watches, some small pieces of plate, and some rings—all stolen goods. With this fortune, and in the sixty-first year of my age, I launched out into a new world, as I may call it, in the condition only of a poor convict ordered to be transported in respite from the gallows. My clothes were poor and mean, but not ragged or dirty, and none knew in the whole ship that I had anything of value about me.
However, as I had a great many very good clothes and linen in abundance, which I had ordered to be packed up in two great boxes, I had them shipped on board, not as my goods but as consigned to my real name in Virginia; and had the bills of loading in my pocket; and in these boxes was my plate and watches and everything of value except my money, which I kept by itself in a private drawer in my chest, and which could not be found or opened if found without splitting the chest to pieces.
The ship began now to fill; several passengers came on board who were embarked on no criminal account, and these had accommodations assigned them in the great cabin and other parts of the ship, whereas we, as convicts, were thrust down below, I know not where. But when my husband came on board, I spoke to the boatswain, who had so early given me hints of his friendship. I told him he had befriended me in many things and I had not made any suitable return to him, and with that I put a guinea into his hand. I told him that my husband was now come on board; that though we were under the present misfortunes, yet we had been persons of a differing character from the wretched crew that we came with, and desired to know whether the captain might not be moved to admit us to some conveniences in the ship, for which we would make him what satisfaction he pleased, and that we would gratify him for his pains in procuring this for us. He took the guinea, as I could see, with great satisfaction, and assured me of his assistance.
Then he told us he did not doubt but that the captain, who was one of the best-humoured gentlemen in the world, would be easily brought to accommodate us as well as we could desire; and to make me easy, told me he would go up the next tide on purpose to speak to him about it. The next morning, happening to sleep a little longer than ordinary, when I got up and began to look abroad, I saw the boatswain among the men in his ordinary business. I was a little melancholy at seeing him there, and going forwards to speak to him, he saw me and came towards me, but not giving him time to speak first, I said, smiling, “I doubt, sir, you have forgot us, for I see you are very busy.” He returned presently, “Come along with me and you shall see.” So he took me into the great cabin, and there sat a good sort of a gentlemanly man writing, and a great many papers before him.
“Here,” says the boatswain to him that
was a-writing, “is the gentlewoman that the captain spoke to you of.” And turning to me, he said, “I have been so far from forgetting your business that I have been up at the captain’s house and have represented faithfully what you said, of your being furnished with conveniences for yourself and your husband; and the captain has sent this gentleman, who is mate of the ship, down on purpose to show you everything and to accommodate you to your content, and bid me assure you that you shall not be treated like what you were expected to be, but with the same respect as other passengers are treated.”
The mate then spoke to me and, not giving me time to thank the boatswain for his kindness, confirmed what the boatswain had said, and added that it was the captain’s delight to show himself kind and charitable, especially to those that were under any misfortunes; and with that he showed me several cabins built up, some in the great cabin and some partitioned off, out of the steerage but opening into the great cabin, on purpose for passengers, and gave me leave to choose where I would. I chose a cabin in the steerage, in which were very good conveniences to set our chest and boxes, and a table to eat on.
The mate then told me that the boatswain had given so good a character of me and of my husband that he had orders to tell me we should eat with him, if we thought fit, during the whole voyage, on the common terms of passengers; that we might lay in some fresh provisions if we pleased; or if not, he should lay in his usual store, and that we should have share with him. This was very reviving news to me after so many hardships and afflictions. I thanked him and told him the captain should make his own terms with us, and asked him leave to go and tell my husband of it, who was not very well and was not yet out of his cabin. Accordingly I went, and my husband, whose spirits were still so much sunk with the indignity (as he understood it) offered him that he was scarce yet himself, was so revived with the account I gave him of the reception we were like to have in the ship that he was quite another man, and new vigour and courage appeared in his very countenance. So true is it that the greatest spirits when overwhelmed by their afflictions are subject to the greatest dejections.
