by Daniel Defoe
admission into the house or cave, and they began to live very
sociably; and the head Spaniard, who had seen pretty much of my
methods, together with Friday's father, managed all their affairs;
but as for the Englishmen, they did nothing but ramble about the
island, shoot parrots, and catch tortoises; and when they came home
at night, the Spaniards provided their suppers for them.
The Spaniards would have been satisfied with this had the others
but let them alone, which, however, they could not find in their
hearts to do long: but, like the dog in the manger, they would not
eat themselves, neither would they let the others eat. The
differences, nevertheless, were at first but trivial, and such as
are not worth relating, but at last it broke out into open war:
and it began with all the rudeness and insolence that can be
imagined--without reason, without provocation, contrary to nature,
and indeed to common sense; and though, it is true, the first
relation of it came from the Spaniards themselves, whom I may call
the accusers, yet when I came to examine the fellows they could not
deny a word of it.
But before I come to the particulars of this part, I must supply a
defect in my former relation; and this was, I forgot to set down
among the rest, that just as we were weighing the anchor to set
sail, there happened a little quarrel on board of our ship, which I
was once afraid would have turned to a second mutiny; nor was it
appeased till the captain, rousing up his courage, and taking us
all to his assistance, parted them by force, and making two of the
most refractory fellows prisoners, he laid them in irons: and as
they had been active in the former disorders, and let fall some
ugly, dangerous words the second time, he threatened to carry them
in irons to England, and have them hanged there for mutiny and
running away with the ship. This, it seems, though the captain did
not intend to do it, frightened some other men in the ship; and
some of them had put it into the head of the rest that the captain
only gave them good words for the present, till they should come to
same English port, and that then they should be all put into gaol,
and tried for their lives. The mate got intelligence of this, and
acquainted us with it, upon which it was desired that I, who still
passed for a great man among them, should go down with the mate and
satisfy the men, and tell them that they might be assured, if they
behaved well the rest of the voyage, all they had done for the time
past should be pardoned. So I went, and after passing my honour's
word to them they appeared easy, and the more so when I caused the
two men that were in irons to be released and forgiven.
But this mutiny had brought us to an anchor for that night; the
wind also falling calm next morning, we found that our two men who
had been laid in irons had stolen each of them a musket and some
other weapons (what powder or shot they had we knew not), and had
taken the ship's pinnace, which was not yet hauled up, and run away
with her to their companions in roguery on shore. As soon as we
found this, I ordered the long-boat on shore, with twelve men and
the mate, and away they went to seek the rogues; but they could
neither find them nor any of the rest, for they all fled into the
woods when they saw the boat coming on shore. The mate was once
resolved, in justice to their roguery, to have destroyed their
plantations, burned all their household stuff and furniture, and
left them to shift without it; but having no orders, he let it all
alone, left everything as he found it, and bringing the pinnace
way, came on board without them. These two men made their number
five; but the other three villains were so much more wicked than
they, that after they had been two or three days together they
turned the two newcomers out of doors to shift for themselves, and
would have nothing to do with them; nor could they for a good while
be persuaded to give them any food: as for the Spaniards, they
were not yet come.
When the Spaniards came first on shore, the business began to go
forward: the Spaniards would have persuaded the three English
brutes to have taken in their countrymen again, that, as they said,
they might be all one family; but they would not hear of it, so the
two poor fellows lived by themselves; and finding nothing but
industry and application would make them live comfortably, they
pitched their tents on the north shore of the island, but a little
more to the west, to be out of danger of the savages, who always
landed on the east parts of the island. Here they built them two
huts, one to lodge in, and the other to lay up their magazines and
stores in; and the Spaniards having given them some corn for seed,
and some of the peas which I had left them, they dug, planted, and
enclosed, after the pattern I had set for them all, and began to
live pretty well. Their first crop of corn was on the ground; and
though it was but a little bit of land which they had dug up at
first, having had but a little time, yet it was enough to relieve
them, and find them with bread and other eatables; and one of the
fellows being the cook's mate of the ship, was very ready at making
soup, puddings, and such other preparations as the rice and the
milk, and such little flesh as they got, furnished him to do.
They were going on in this little thriving position when the three
unnatural rogues, their own countrymen too, in mere humour, and to
insult them, came and bullied them, and told them the island was
theirs: that the governor, meaning me, had given them the
possession of it, and nobody else had any right to it; and that
they should build no houses upon their ground unless they would pay
rent for them. The two men, thinking they were jesting at first,
asked them to come in and sit down, and see what fine houses they
were that they had built, and to tell them what rent they demanded;
and one of them merrily said if they were the ground-landlords, he
hoped if they built tenements upon their land, and made
improvements, they would, according to the custom of landlords,
grant a long lease: and desired they would get a scrivener to draw
the writings. One of the three, cursing and raging, told them they
should see they were not in jest; and going to a little place at a
distance, where the honest men had made a fire to dress their
victuals, he takes a firebrand, and claps it to the outside of
their hut, and set it on fire: indeed, it would have been all
burned down in a few minutes if one of the two had not run to the
fellow, thrust him away, and trod the fire out with his feet, and
that not without some difficulty too.
The fellow was in such a rage at the honest man's thrusting him
away, that he returned upon him, with a pole he had in his hand,
and had not the man avoided the blow very nimbly, and run into the
hut, he had ended his days at once. His comrade, seeing the danger
they were b
oth in, ran after him, and immediately they came both
out with their muskets, and the man that was first struck at with
the pole knocked the fellow down that began the quarrel with the
stock of his musket, and that before the other two could come to
help him; and then, seeing the rest come at them, they stood
together, and presenting the other ends of their pieces to them,
bade them stand off.
The others had firearms with them too; but one of the two honest
men, bolder than his comrade, and made desperate by his danger,
told them if they offered to move hand or foot they were dead men,
and boldly commanded them to lay down their arms. They did not,
indeed, lay down their arms, but seeing him so resolute, it brought
them to a parley, and they consented to take their wounded man with
them and be gone: and, indeed, it seems the fellow was wounded
sufficiently with the blow. However, they were much in the wrong,
since they had the advantage, that they did not disarm them
effectually, as they might have done, and have gone immediately to
the Spaniards, and given them an account how the rogues had treated
them; for the three villains studied nothing but revenge, and every
day gave them some intimation that they did so.
CHAPTER III--FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS
But not to crowd this part with an account of the lesser part of
the rogueries with which they plagued them continually, night and
day, it forced the two men to such a desperation that they resolved
to fight them all three, the first time they had a fair
opportunity. In order to do this they resolved to go to the castle
(as they called my old dwelling), where the three rogues and the
Spaniards all lived together at that time, intending to have a fair
battle, and the Spaniards should stand by to see fair play: so
they got up in the morning before day, and came to the place, and
called the Englishmen by their names telling a Spaniard that
answered that they wanted to speak with them.
It happened that the day before two of the Spaniards, having been
in the woods, had seen one of the two Englishmen, whom, for
distinction, I called the honest men, and he had made a sad
complaint to the Spaniards of the barbarous usage they had met with
from their three countrymen, and how they had ruined their
plantation, and destroyed their corn, that they had laboured so
hard to bring forward, and killed the milch-goat and their three
kids, which was all they had provided for their sustenance, and
that if he and his friends, meaning the Spaniards, did not assist
them again, they should be starved. When the Spaniards came home
at night, and they were all at supper, one of them took the freedom
to reprove the three Englishmen, though in very gentle and mannerly
terms, and asked them how they could be so cruel, they being
harmless, inoffensive fellows: that they were putting themselves
in a way to subsist by their labour, and that it had cost them a
great deal of pains to bring things to such perfection as they were
then in.
One of the Englishmen returned very briskly, "What had they to do
there? that they came on shore without leave; and that they should
not plant or build upon the island; it was none of their ground."
"Why," says the Spaniard, very calmly, "Seignior Inglese, they must
not starve." The Englishman replied, like a rough tarpaulin, "They
might starve; they should not plant nor build in that place." "But
what must they do then, seignior?" said the Spaniard. Another of
the brutes returned, "Do? they should be servants, and work for
them." "But how can you expect that of them?" says the Spaniard;
"they are not bought with your money; you have no right to make
them servants." The Englishman answered, "The island was theirs;
the governor had given it to them, and no man had anything to do
there but themselves;" and with that he swore that he would go and
burn all their new huts; they should build none upon their land.
"Why, seignior," says the Spaniard, "by the same rule, we must be
your servants, too." "Ay," returned the bold dog, "and so you
shall, too, before we have done with you;" mixing two or three
oaths in the proper intervals of his speech. The Spaniard only
smiled at that, and made him no answer. However, this little
discourse had heated them; and starting up, one says to the other.
(I think it was he they called Will Atkins), "Come, Jack, let's go
and have t'other brush with them; we'll demolish their castle, I'll
warrant you; they shall plant no colony in our dominions."
Upon this they were all trooping away, with every man a gun, a
pistol, and a sword, and muttered some insolent things among
themselves of what they would do to the Spaniards, too, when
opportunity offered; but the Spaniards, it seems, did not so
perfectly understand them as to know all the particulars, only that
in general they threatened them hard for taking the two
Englishmen's part. Whither they went, or how they bestowed their
time that evening, the Spaniards said they did not know; but it
seems they wandered about the country part of the night, and them
lying down in the place which I used to call my bower, they were
weary and overslept themselves. The case was this: they had
resolved to stay till midnight, and so take the two poor men when
they were asleep, and as they acknowledged afterwards, intended to
set fire to their huts while they were in them, and either burn
them there or murder them as they came out. As malice seldom
sleeps very sound, it was very strange they should not have been
kept awake. However, as the two men had also a design upon them,
as I have said, though a much fairer one than that of burning and
murdering, it happened, and very luckily for them all, that they
were up and gone abroad before the bloody-minded rogues came to
their huts.
When they came there, and found the men gone, Atkins, who it seems
was the forwardest man, called out to his comrade, "Ha, Jack,
here's the nest, but the birds are flown." They mused a while, to
think what should be the occasion of their being gone abroad so
soon, and suggested presently that the Spaniards had given them
notice of it; and with that they shook hands, and swore to one
another that they would be revenged of the Spaniards. As soon as
they had made this bloody bargain they fell to work with the poor
men's habitation; they did not set fire, indeed, to anything, but
they pulled down both their houses, and left not the least stick
standing, or scarce any sign on the ground where they stood; they
tore all their household stuff in pieces, and threw everything
about in such a manner, that the poor men afterwards found some of
their things a mile off. When they had done this, they pulled up
all the young trees which the poor men had planted; broke down an
enclosure they had made to secure their cattle and their corn; and,
in a word, sacked and plundered everything as completely as a horde
&n
bsp; of Tartars would have done.
The two men were at this juncture gone to find them out, and had
resolved to fight them wherever they had been, though they were but
two to three; so that, had they met, there certainly would have
been blood shed among them, for they were all very stout, resolute
fellows, to give them their due.
But Providence took more care to keep them asunder than they
themselves could do to meet; for, as if they had dogged one
another, when the three were gone thither, the two were here; and
afterwards, when the two went back to find them, the three were
come to the old habitation again: we shall see their different
conduct presently. When the three came back like furious
creatures, flushed with the rage which the work they had been about
had put them into, they came up to the Spaniards, and told them
what they had done, by way of scoff and bravado; and one of them
stepping up to one of the Spaniards, as if they had been a couple
of boys at play, takes hold of his hat as it was upon his head, and
giving it a twirl about, fleering in his face, says to him, "And
you, Seignior Jack Spaniard, shall have the same sauce if you do
not mend your manners." The Spaniard, who, though a quiet civil
man, was as brave a man as could be, and withal a strong, well-made
man, looked at him for a good while, and then, having no weapon in
his hand, stepped gravely up to him, and, with one blow of his
fist, knocked him down, as an ox is felled with a pole-axe; at
which one of the rogues, as insolent as the first, fired his pistol
at the Spaniard immediately; he missed his body, indeed, for the
bullets went through his hair, but one of them touched the tip of
his ear, and he bled pretty much. The blood made the Spaniard
believe he was more hurt than he really was, and that put him into
some heat, for before he acted all in a perfect calm; but now
resolving to go through with his work, he stooped, and taking the
fellow's musket whom he had knocked down, was just going to shoot
the man who had fired at him, when the rest of the Spaniards, being
in the cave, came out, and calling to him not to shoot, they
stepped in, secured the other two, and took their arms from them.
When they were thus disarmed, and found they had made all the
Spaniards their enemies, as well as their own countrymen, they
began to cool, and giving the Spaniards better words, would have
their arms again; but the Spaniards, considering the feud that was
between them and the other two Englishmen, and that it would be the
best method they could take to keep them from killing one another,
told them they would do them no harm, and if they would live
peaceably, they would be very willing to assist and associate with
them as they did before; but that they could not think of giving
them their arms again, while they appeared so resolved to do
mischief with them to their own countrymen, and had even threatened
them all to make them their servants.
The rogues were now quite deaf to all reason, and being refused
their arms, they raved away like madmen, threatening what they
would do, though they had no firearms. But the Spaniards,
despising their threatening, told them they should take care how
they offered any injury to their plantation or cattle; for if they
did they would shoot them as they would ravenous beasts, wherever
they found them; and if they fell into their hands alive, they
should certainly be hanged. However, this was far from cooling
them, but away they went, raging and swearing like furies. As soon
as they were gone, the two men came back, in passion and rage
enough also, though of another kind; for having been at their
plantation, and finding it all demolished and destroyed, as above
mentioned, it will easily be supposed they had provocation enough.
They could scarce have room to tell their tale, the Spaniards were
so eager to tell them theirs: and it was strange enough to find
that three men should thus bully nineteen, and receive no
