The ship was commanded by one Skyrme, a Welshman, who, though he had lost his leg in the action, would not suffer himself to be dressed or carried off the deck, but, like Widrington, fought upon his stump. The rest appeared gay and brisk, most of them with white shirts, watches, and a deal of silk vests, but the gold-dust belonging to them was most of it left in the Little Ranger in the bay (this company’s proper ship) with the Royal Fortune.
I cannot but take notice of two among the crowd of those disfigured from the blast of powder just before mentioned, viz., William Main and Roger Ball. An officer of the ship seeing a silver call hang at the waist of the former, said to him, “I presume you are boatswain of this ship.” “Then you presume wrong,” answered he, “for I am boatswain of the Royal Fortune, Captain Roberts, commander.” “Then, Mr. Boatswain, you will be hanged, I believe,” replies the officer. “That is as your honour pleases,” answered he again, and was for turning away; but the officer desired to know of him how the powder which had made them in that condition came to take fire. “By G——,” says he, “they are all mad and bewitched, for I have lost a good hat by it”—the hat and he being both blown out of the cabin gallery into the sea. “But what signifies a hat, friend?” says the officer. “Not much,” answered he; the men being busy in stripping him of his shoes and stockings. The officer then inquired of him whether Roberts’s company were as likely fellows as these. “There are 120 of them,” answered he, “as clever fellows as ever trod shoe-leather. Would I were with them!” “No doubt of it,” says the officer. “By G——, it is naked truth,” answered he, looking down and seeing himself by this time quite stripped.
The officer then approached Roger Ball, who was seated in a private corner, with a look as sullen as winter, and asked him, how he came blown up in that frightful manner. “Why,” says he, “John Morris fired a pistol into the powder, and if he had not done it I would” (bearing his pain without the least complaint). The officer gave him to understand he was surgeon, and if he desired it, he would dress him; but he swore it should not be done, and that if anything was applied to him he would tear it off. Nevertheless the surgeon had good nature enough to dress him, though with much trouble. At night he was in a kind of delirium, and raved on the bravery of Roberts, saying he should shortly be released, as soon as they should meet him, which procured him a lashing down upon the forecastle, which he resisting with all his force, caused him to be used with the more violence, so that he was tied down with so much severity that, his flesh being sore and tender with the blowing up, he died next day of a mortification.
They secured the prisoners with pinions and shackles, but the ship was so much disabled in the engagement that they had once thoughts to set her on fire; but this would have given them the trouble of taking the pirate’s wounded men on board themselves, and that they were certain the Royal Fortune would wait for their consort’s return, they lay by her two days, repairing her rigging and other damages, and sent her into Princes with the Frenchmen and four of their own hands.
On the 9th, in the evening, the Swallow gained the Cape again, and saw the Royal Fortune standing into the bay with the Neptune, Captain Hill, of London—a good presage of the next day’s success, for they did not doubt but the temptation of liquor and plunder they might find in this their new prize would make the pirates very confused; and so it happened.
On the 10th, in the morning, the man-of-war bore away to round the Cape. Roberts’s crew discerning their masts over the land, went down into the cabin to acquaint him of it, he being then at breakfast with his new guest, Captain Hill, on a savoury dish of solomongundy, and some of his own beer. He took no notice of it, and his men almost as little, some saying she was a Portuguese ship, others a French slave ship, but the major part swore it was the French Ranger returning, and were merrily debating for some time on the manner of reception, whether they should salute or not; but as the Swallow approached nigher things appeared plainer, and though they were stigmatized with the name of cowards who showed any apprehension of danger, yet some of them, now undeceived, declared it to Roberts, especially one Armstrong, who had deserted from that ship and knew her well. Those Roberts swore at as cowards, who meant to dishearten the men, asking them if it were so, whether they were afraid to fight, or no? and hardly restrained from blows. What his own apprehensions were till she hauled up her ports and hoisted their proper colours is uncertain; but then being perfectly convinced, he slipped his cable, got under sail, and ordered his men to arms without any show of timidity, dropping a first-rate oath, “that it was a bite,” but at the same time resolved, like a gallant rogue, to get clear or die.
There was one Armstrong, as I just mentioned, a deserter from the Swallow, whom they inquired of concerning the trim and sailing of that ship; he told them she sailed best upon a wind, and therefore, if they designed to leave her, they should go before it.
The danger was imminent, and time very short to consult of means to extricate himself. His resolution in this strait was as follows: To pass close to the Swallow, with all their sails and, receive her broadside, before they returned a shot; if disabled by this, or that they could not depend on sailing, then to run on shore at the point (which is steep to) and every one to shift for himself among the negroes; or failing in these, to board, and blow up together, for he saw that the greatest part of his men were drunk, passively courageous, unfit for service.
Roberts himself made a gallant figure at the time of the engagement, being dressed in a rich crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, a red feather in his hat, a gold chain round his neck, with a diamond cross hanging to it, a sword in his hand, and two pair of pistols hanging at the end of a silk sling, flung over his shoulders (according to the fashion of the pirates), and is said to have given his orders with boldness and spirit; coming, according to what he had purposed, close to the man-of-war, received her fire, and then hoisted his black flag, and returned it, shooting away from her with all the sail he could pack; and had he took Armstrong’s advice, to have gone before the wind, he had probably escaped; but keeping his tacks down, either by the winds shifting, or ill steerage, or both, he was taken a-back with his sails, and the Swallow came a second time very nigh to him. He had now perhaps finished the fight very desperately, if Death, who took a swift passage in a grape-shot, had not interposed, and struck him directly on the throat. He settled himself on the tackles of a gun, which one Stephenson, from the helm, observing, ran to his assistance, and not perceiving him wounded, swore at him and bid him stand up and fight like a man; but when he found his mistake, and that his captain was certainly dead, he gushed into tears and wished the next shot might be his lot. They presently threw him overboard, with his arms and ornaments on, according to the repeated requests he made in his lifetime.
Roberts was a tall black man, near forty years of age, born at Newey-bagh, nigh Haverford-West, in Pembrokeshire, of good natural parts and personal bravery, though he applied them to such wicked purposes as to make them of no commendation, frequently drinking “D——n to him who ever lived to wear a halter.” He was forced himself at first among this company out of the Prince, Captain Plumb, at Anamaboe, about three years before, where he served as second mate, and shed, as he used to tell the fresh men, as many crocodile tears then as they did now, but time and good company had wore it off. He could not plead want of employment, nor incapacity of getting his bread in an honest way, to favour so vile a change, nor was he so much a coward as to pretend it, but frankly owned it was to get rid of the disagreeable superiority of some masters he was acquainted with, and the love of novelty and change maritime peregrinations had accustomed him to. “In an honest service,” says he, “there is thin commons, low wages, and hard labour; in this, plenty and satiety, pleasure and ease, liberty and power; and who would not balance creditor on this side when all the hazard that is run for it, at worst, is only a fore-look or two at choking. No, ‘a merry life and a short one’ shall be my motto.” Thus he preached himself into an approbation of what he at first abhorred, and being daily regaled with music, drinking, and the gaiety and diversions of his companions, these depraved propensities were quickly edged and strengthened, to the extinguishing of fear and conscience. Yet among all the vile and ignominious acts he had perpetrated he is said to have had an aversion towards forcing men into that service, and had procured some their discharge, notwithstanding so many had made force their plea.