THE ADVENTURE.
Our situation as recorder of events connected with this history, whilst
it enables us to look from an elevated position upon those connected
with our story, enables us also to transport our readers, with a
thought, from pole to pole. Nay, we can even rival the swift flight of
Puck, if we so will it, and "put a girdle round about the earth in
somewhat less than forty minutes."
In virtue of this power, we therefore take leave to transport our
readers upon the "sightless couriers of the air," and bid them look down
upon the main of waters several thousand miles from the scene of our
last chapter--even to the watery wastes which wash the coast of Florida.
A small speck--an atom--is seen slowly and laboriously making its way
over the broad waves of the Atlantic. Steadily and beautifully, as we
obtain a nearer view, does she seem to mount upon the rolling surge, and
then again sink down into the vale of waters, almost lost to sight
between the liquid mountains which follow each other in succession,
apparently from end to end of the world.
How awfully grand is the situation! How curious to consider is the
intellect, courage, and perseverance of those who guide that barque
through such an unknown waste! The dreadful winds roaring above them,
and beneath the multitudinous waters descending, "where fathom line
would never find the ground," one touch of an unseen rock, one bolt
starting in the vessel's hull, one unmarked and uncared-for blast of
wind, one spark alighting in a crevice, and that vessel and all that it
contains, unknown, unseen, is resolved into the vast tide, and washed
amidst the atoms contained in its dark waters. Months have passed since
the Falcon left the river which flows up to that old Dutch-built Cinque
Port where our readers may remember to have last seen her. Steadily hath
the wanderer held on day after day, through fair and foul, into the dark
waste, alone, like some atom upon the surface, and still breasting the
wave, as if eternity was before her in those rolling seas.
Strange that the spirit of adventure should sustain men in such a
hopeless-looking wilderness! That the desire of finding new worlds, or
their greed after gold, should take them from all they hold dear in
their own land. Such, however, is the motive which actuates the major
part of the crew of that labouring barque, whilst to one alone amongst
them, and who seems the chief of the party, the secret spring which is
indeed the prime mover of the adventure, is love.
The youthful Count, then, whilst he leads on his followers under the
idea of new discoveries, great gains, and hatred of the Spaniard, is, in
truth, seeking for one who has either perished by wreck or starvation,
or is still living in hopeless abandonment or captivity, somewhere
amongst these far-away seas.
One only confidant is aware of the secret motive, and that person is our
old acquaintance Martin. If then we look within the hull of this small
craft, we shall find its interior peopled by some sixty stern-looking
and bearded wanderers, high in courage, stern in resolve, the captain
and crew who work the vessel, the eccentric and faithful Martin, and one
female in disguise, the latter "a count of wealth as well as quality,"
to all appearance, and who, as proprietor of the vessel and loader of
the expedition, seeks ostensibly but to pursue his love of adventure.
In consequence of the inferiority of size, form, and fashion of this
vessel, and the unknown ocean they traverse, the Falcon and her warlike
fraughtage have boon boating about for many a weary week.
It was after being exposed to one of the fearful hurricanes so frequent
in these seas, that we now look upon the Falcon and her devoted crew.
Tempest-tossed as they had been for some weeks, to their great relief
they at length began to find themselves approaching land, and by the
delicious fragrance with which the air was loaded--an air which seemed
as if it blew from some garden abounding with sweet flowers--they found
themselves amongst "the still vext Bermothees," where they resolved to
remain for a short time in order to refit.
Strange and unnatural appearances, however, whilst in this, as it first
seemed, region of paradise, so astonished the sailors, that after a
brief sojourn, the Count was necessitated to hasten his departure--
"The Isle seemed full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that gave delight, and hurt not."
The sailors, too, with characteristic superstition, declared they heard
strange voices commanding them to leave the shore,[16] and, as if to
enforce their orders, a dreadful storm of thunder and lightning seemed
to rend the very heavens, and darkness settled as a pall around them.
Fearful shapes too were said to glare through the murky atmosphere
around the ship, and the apparition of the ominous flame, called by
seamen "Castor and Pollux," flitted above the mast. These portents were
the prelude to a yet more tremendous storm, which threatening to swallow
up the little vessel, eventually drove her on an island which runs
parallel nearly to the coast of Carolina.
[Footnote 16: Such an account was in reality given by the adventurers
who sailed with Sir Humphrey Gilbert, the father of our plantations, and
the brother of Sir Walter Raleigh, and who was lost in the storm
following the portentous sounds we have described. Might not this very
incident have suggested to Shakespeare the description of the island in
the "Tempest."]
The Count here disembarked, and refreshed his followers, by rest amidst
woods and groves of tall cedar trees, around whose trunks wild vines
hung in festoons, and the grape seemed so natural to the soil, that the
clusters covered the ground and dipt into the ocean.
Again they put to sea, and again they made a strange land filled with
new wonders. Here, whilst the adventurers sought the interior of a
country they had been led to believe contained cities in which the
houses were studded with pearl, the Count and his immediate attendants
sought the ruined colony from which Drake had carried off the remnant of
followers, previously left by Sir Walter Raleigh. "They after riches
hunt; he after love." The dangers and difficulties encountered by both
parties it would be difficult to picture; for hunger, heat, wounds, and
disease were the portion of the adventurers of Elizabeth's day. Through
gloomy swamps they penetrated, and through interminable forests they
hewed their way. Many were pierced by the poisoned shaft of the Indian,
many died of despair, and many were the victims of serpents, reptiles,
and savage beasts; whilst others again died of loathsome diseases
unknown in their native land.
Still the Count, the faithful Martin, and their immediate followers held
on. They had gained some tidings by which they learnt that it party of
wrecked seamen had been carried captive by the natives to a city in the
interior of the country; and they resolved to reach them, or perish in
the attempt.
'Twas indeed an edifying sight to behold the stripling youth who led
that small band. One evidently nurtured in luxury and ease, enduring the
extremity of danger, fatigue, hardship, and privation, and lending a
fire to his jaded followers by his heroic fortitude and example. What
mattered it him, that for days hundreds of half-naked Indians, with
their clubs and bows, hovered around his mail-clad band. One moment
swarming to the close attack, the next showering flights of arrows from
the distance. Still himself and party were resolved to penetrate to the
rescue of their countrymen or die; and the little band at length reached
the place they sought.
'Twas lucky for the young Count that he had steeled his mind to bear
disappointment when he donned the light cuirass which adorned his
breast; for himself and followers, on arriving at the capital of the
country, found literally nothing to repay their toil. In place of
boundless wealth and temples of the sun, the adventurers found a
wretched Indian town, which had been sacked and partially burned by a
detachment of Spanish soldiers, and who had apparently carried off those
they sought as prisoners to their ship.
Here again, therefore, the Christian fortitude of the young Count
supported his followers. "Murmur at nothing, comrades," he said. "If our
ills are repairable, it is ungrateful; if otherwise, it is vain. There
is comfort yet. The Spaniard is assailable, and the Falcon swift of
pinion; we will return, embark, and swoop upon the enemy."
Well knowing that the Spaniards always went into the Gulf of Mexico by
St. Domingo and Hispaniola, and directed their homeward course by the
Gulf of Florida, where they found a continued coast on the west side,
trending away north, and then standing to the east to make for Spain,
the Captain of the Falcon directed his course accordingly; and guided by
report of some barques he fell in with, managed to gain sight of the
very vessel they were in search of.
The Spaniard was a huge carrack loaded with treasure; and when the
English vessel sighted her, she was labouring heavily in a gale, and
which the lighter and better-built Falcon rode with ease. Displaying his
flag, the Count instantly gave orders to bear down and near the enemy;
and disregarding the increasing winds which now blow almost a hurricane,
the two vessels encountered each other.
How strange it seemed that amidst the fury of the elements, and which in
a few short hours might overwhelm both vessels in the deep, the natural
hatred the crews bore each other should urge on and help the
destruction. And still more edifying was the gallantry with which the
smaller English vessel bore down upon the huge golden prize, received
her heavy fire, and, crashing upon her, whilst they were locked
together, attempted to storm her bulwarks, and gain a footing on her
deck. Then might have been seen a fearful sight,--amidst the tearing of
masts and rigging consequent upon the vessels being locked together for
the moment, and whilst they were simultaneously heaved upon each wave,
was heard the ringing sound of musketry, the clash of weapons, and the
despairing cry of agony, mingled with rattling sails and roaring wind.
Enveloped in smoke, none knew whether they were sinking amidst the dire
confusion and horrible sounds around. Navigation was suspended whilst
rage lasted, until the vessels separating with the increasing violence
of the storm, in a crippled state, and, as if pausing for want of power
to renew the fight, they were now gradually driven from each other. Not
as they had met, however, did they part. In the confusion of the fight,
and owing to their tearing apart ere the English adventurers could
master the Spanish craft, and which by their valour and impetuosity they
had nearly accomplished, several had fallen into the hands of the
Spaniard, whilst a similar capture had also been made by the Falcon.
The young Count and Martin were unluckily amongst those left upon the
deck of the Spanish vessel, and one or two of the before wrecked
sailors, of whom the Count was in search, together with some Spaniards
of condition, were the prize of the English.
This was a dire consummation to the crew of the Falcon after all their
toils. The Spaniard was known to be a cruel devil on the high seas. The
prisoners would be tortured or made to walk the plank. In addition to
this, there was no possibility of rescue or renewal of the fight in such
a sea, and in so crippled a state. Both vessels, therefore, lay rolling
upon the waters, the crews glaring at each other till night.
Notwithstanding their crippled state, the Captain of the Falcon, with
the characteristic industry of the English suitor, sat about preparing
for a renewal of the engagement, and, after giving a multitude of
directions, he found time to address himself to a tall noble-looking
cavalier, who seemed the principal of those whom the chance of war had
introduced into his vessel.
"This is an unlucky issue to our adventure, Seignor," he said, "unless
we can repair the mischief by a second fight."
"A lucky one for me, good Captain," returned the cavalier, "I was forced
with other prisoners upon the deck of yonder Spaniard, and ordered to
fight against you, my own country men. In the _melee_ I managed to gain
a footing upon your craft. Another day had perhaps seen us all committed
to the deep."
"Whilst I," said the Captain, "in gaining that for which I adventured in
this voyage, have lost my venture by losing my employer. Is not thy name
Arderne,--Walter Arderne?"
"It is," said the cavalier, in some surprise, "How have you discovered
so much?"
"There are those in this vessel who know you," said the Captain; "men
from your own neighbourhood, and who are the followers of the owner of
this craft, a noble gentleman who set sail from England for the very
purpose of discovering and rescuing certain of his countrymen said to be
cast away on the coast of Florida."
"You still more astonish me," said Arderne. "What was the name of this
person?"
"My employer, and who has unluckily become a captive in yonder carrack,
is called the Count Falanara, a noble having large estates in
Warwickshire."
"We have no such name, or proprietor of land, in that county," said
Arderne; "you have been deceived."
"In some sort I think so," said Captain Fluellyn; "will you favour me by
stepping into the cabin of this noble, and in which, until his absence
gave me opportunity of entering, I have never yet been?"
So saying, the Captain led the way into the small cabin the Count had
occupied during the voyage, which had been fitted up under his own
directions.
Nothing could be more elegant than the interior of this cabin; the
curtains of the small sleeping-berth were of common silk, fringed with
gold; the window beneath which the waves rippled was elaborately carved,
and also framed and gilt; a splendid mirror of small dimensions, being
framed in gold, ornamented the opposite side; the lamp which was
suspended from the ceiling was also of pure gold; an elaborately-carved
seat, with velvet cushions, was opposite the small round table fastened
in the centre of the cabin, and upon it was placed a lute. In short,
everything shewed that the recent occupier was a person of somewhat
effeminate tastes and habits, and so the Captain seemed to think. "A
soft nest," he said, "for one vowed to adventure, and the dangers of the
New World. One would think a noble possessing the means for luxuries
such as these need scarcely seek for treasure."
"Truly so," said Arderne.
"And yet," said the Captain, "it all depends upon the treasure sought.
This Count, as you have said, hath in some sort put a cheat upon me;
inasmuch, Master Arderne, as he was not what he seemed."
"True," said Arderne.
"These things are not the usual accompaniments of a sailor, or a rude
son of adventure," said the Captain, somewhat contemptuously, touching
the lute and the framed mirror with the end of his sheathed rapier. "On
my first acquaintance with this youth--this noble--and when I took
instructions anent our voyage, I looked upon him as a coward. He was for
avoiding all unnecessary danger and collision with an enemy. Subsequent
events, however, and his endurance under toil, and his ardour after that
he sought, caused me to change that opinion. A week ago, as I listened
to the melody of the voice which accompanied yonder lute, it suddenly
struck me the Count was a female."
"A female!" said Arderne. "Had she no familiar friend--no confidant with
her--who was aware of her real name, think ye?"
"She had," returned the Captain, "a shrewd and faithful friend, who
seemed her confidant; albeit, I could make him out as little as I could
his superior. He also is captured or lost in the confusion."
"We must take that vessel, Captain, or perish!" said Arderne.
"We will at least do our best," said the Captain, preparing to leave the
cabin, and look to the exertions of his men. But at that moment a sudden
cry arose in the vessel, which made both him and Arderne hasten their
steps. The Spaniard was on fire.
This was indeed a terrible consummation. The night was dark--the burning
vessel some miles off.
Regardless of the billows rolling mountains high, Arderne and a resolute
company got out the boats of the Falcon, and attempted to approach the
blazing vessel.
'Twas, however, all in vain. The conflagration rapidly increased; so
that ere the boats neared her, she was on fire in many places; her
ordnance thundering off as the flames reached them, rendering it
impossible to approach near. That several escaped in their boats was
likely; but the English sailors, in spite of Arderne's desire to keep
near, rowed back to tho Falcon, whence they remained gazing upon the
flaming craft--a terrific spectacle thus seen by night. The shape,
cordage, masts, her high and towering poop, and all her gilded
furniture, displayed in the hot flames, as if some painter had drawn out
every portion.
All night and part of the next day did the haughty-looking Spaniard
burn, till she was consumed to the water's edge, and then, as the Falcon
neared her, there arose ever and anon a column of smoke from the rolling
sea, consequent upon the close decks, full of spices, exploding under
water, and which the fire had not taken hold of.