Antony Waymouth; Or, The Gentlemen Adventurers

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Deserting their stations, they rushed tumultuously to the hold. They found three soldiers stationed there, with their muskets ready to fire. Strange that the very men who were about to stupefy themselves with liquor, and so to go out of the world, were afraid of dying by the hands of their countrymen! Growling like cowed mastiffs they shrank back, some returning to the deck, and others turning into their hammocks, where they intended to remain while the ship sank.

But a few only behaved thus. The greater number, as true British seamen always have done, remained at their posts to face the danger. Their perseverance was rewarded. About noon the gale began to abate, the sea to decrease. As the ship laboured less there was a hope that the leaks might be got under, and the carpenters, after sounding, reported that there was not more than the usual quantity of water in the well. The news was received with loud cheers by the crew, but they soon found that continued exertion would be necessary to keep the ship afloat. The skulkers were accordingly routed out of their berths, and compelled to take their turn at the pumps.

Waymouth well knew that idleness is the mother of many a crime, and he determined that his crew should have no such excuse. As soon as the sea became calm, there was ample work to employ all hands in repairing the damages the ship had received in the battle and the storm.

“Any day we may meet an enemy, and the ship must be in a state to fight him, lads,” the captain was continually remarking, especially when he saw the men slacken at their work. A course had been shaped for the Island of Java, where in the Harbour of Bantam he still entertained hopes of falling in with the rest of the squadron.

Day after day the Lion continued her voyage without further adventure, and every day saw some advance made in restoring her to her former condition, so that, had she encountered a Portugal ship, she would have been as ready as ever for the fight.

In appearance, however, she still wore a very battered and forlorn state. Such was the guise in which she at length entered the harbour of Bantam, making the best show that was possible, with banners and streamers flying, and drums and fifes, and other music, playing. Very different, however, was the figure they made from what they had expected, and what it would have been, had the whole English squadron sailed in at the same time. Very different also was the reception they received from the King of Bantam, in those days a powerful sovereign with a magnificent court of nobles dressed in rich robes. Perceiving the coldness of their reception, Waymouth, habiting himself in his most imposing attire, and taking a number of followers, attired in all the bravery they could command, went on shore, and, on obtaining admission to the palace, informed his majesty that his ship was only the first of a large fleet which had just obtained a glorious victory over the Portugals, and that he hoped they would soon enter the harbour and spend a large portion of their wealth among him and his people. When this fact became clear to the royal mind, the king’s conduct underwent a considerable alteration, and he seemed now only anxious to ascertain how he could best please his guests. There was no lack of entertainments of all sorts—fights of wild animals, shows, and dances. These served to amuse the men, and to prevent them from thinking of the future. But Waymouth and his chief officers could not get rid of their anxiety for their companions. They still, however, lived on in hopes. In the mean time, the captain’s chief uneasiness arose from the conduct of the boatswain, who was clearly endeavouring to ingratiate himself with the crew by overlooking their faults and shielding them from punishment. The consequence was that the discipline of the ship, spite of all the captain and superior officers could do to prevent it, became worse than it had ever been before. Miles Carlingford advised Waymouth to have Hagger and his supposed associates seized, and run up to the yard-arm, or shot; but there were many reasons against this summary proceeding. They were in the port of a treacherous people, who would very likely take advantage of any dissensions among themselves, and it was impossible to say how many of the crew might join Hagger.

“We must either wait the arrival of the rest of the fleet or seize the fellow in blue water, with no one to interfere with us,” answered Waymouth.

However, day after day passed by, and week after week, and the fleet did not appear. It became at last too probable that they had all foundered. Still it was possible that they might have put into some other port to refit, and might arrive at the rendezvous after all.

The time passed pleasantly enough on shore, as great respect was shown to the strangers by the king and chiefs. The English, in return, tried to make themselves popular with all classes, and traded successfully with them, taking care not to allow them to know the amount of wealth they had on board. Hope grew meantime fainter and fainter, and it struck Waymouth that the behaviour of the natives towards them had of late changed for the worse. Among the merchants with whom he had dealings was one who appeared to be especially honest, and more disposed to be friendly than any of his countrymen. One day he made his appearance on board, saying that he had come to trade, and he began in the usual way, but while so engaged he contrived with a peculiar gesture to give a paper to Waymouth, on which was drawn a ship under full sail. Above the ship was a hand, showing the very gesture the merchant had just made. Waymouth could scarcely fail to understand the hieroglyphic. That the merchant wished the Lion to sail away there could be no doubt. The expression of the man’s countenance convinced him that he was friendly and in earnest. Some danger threatened. Perhaps the king had got information of the wealth contained in the ship, and intended to seize her. Whatever enemies they might have on shore, there was one who could not be kept out of the ship. The unhealthy season was approaching. Fever made its appearance on board; several were struck down with it; one after the other died; the surgeon declared that the only way of saving the lives of all on board was to put forthwith to sea.

Once more the Lion was ploughing the waters of the deep. “A sail! a sail!” was the cry. A vessel was seen making for the harbour of Bantam. She might be one of the long-missing squadron. Sail was made in chase. As the Lion approached, the stranger showed the Portugal flag. Hurrah! another prize was to be made. The thought put every one in high spirits. Even the sick came up from their beds to have a look at the enemy. The object of the Portugal was to enter the harbour of Bantam before the Lion, under the belief that he would there find protection. On sprang the king of beasts. It soon became obvious, unless there was a change of wind, that the prey would have little chance of escape. The officers and crew of the Lion eagerly watched the Portugal ship, speculating on the value of her cargo, and whether she was likely to offer resistance. Such an idea was generally treated with scorn. What was the surprise, therefore, of all on board to see the chase suddenly haul up her courses and heave her maintopsail aback to await the coming of her pursuer!