The Eerie Adventures of
the Lycanthrope
ROBINSON CRUSOE
by
Daniel Defoe
and
H.P. Lovecraft
abridged by
Peter Clines
The Eerie Adventures of the Lycanthrope Robinson Crusoe
Daniel Defoe, H.P. Lovecraft, & Peter Clines
Published by Permuted Press at Smashwords.
Copyright 2010 Peter Clines
For Professor Robert Payson Creed,
who taught me classic literature could be fun.
Foreword
Throughout history, it's been the nature of storytellers to make their tale fit the audience, no matter what the truth of that tale may be. Most people are horrified to read the unedited fairy tales that were popularized by the Brothers Grimm. Many college students are stunned by the action-packed tale of Beowulf printed in its true form as a long epic poem. Even the epics The Odyssey and The Iliad are dry on the page without a skilled translation.
In a like manner, when writing out the biography of Robinson Crusoe, budding writer and pamphleteer Daniel Defoe decided on several edits to the assembled journals and accounts that made up the manuscript. While there were numerous popular tales of shipwrecked mariners at the time, Crusoe's experiences were so singular and unnatural that they far outshone the tales of contemporary castaways such as Alexander Selkirk and Henry Pitman. Still, Defoe felt certain changes needed to be made if Crusoe's story were to receive any sort of audience (indeed, if it was even to see print).
Chief among these changes, alas, was a personal bias. Defoe, a Presbyterian dissenter who once debated becoming a minister, felt the need to include numerous passages on Christianity, faith, and devotion in the manuscript, contrary to Crusoe's well-documented dislike of organized religion (having been raised in England during the religiously-conflicted reign of Charles I, at a time shortly after the Spanish Inquisition had burned almost a dozen people for witchcraft in Europe). In an angry 1721 letter to Jonathan Swift, rebutting that author's latest criticism of Robinson Crusoe, Defoe justifies the excessive additions by the belief it was impossible for a man to spend so much time in isolation without turning to Jesus Christ in some regular form or another.
In a similar vein, Defoe also decided that Crusoe must have tried to escape the island. This belief, however, posed the problematic question of, if such a capable man had built a boat, why did he remain stranded for over a quarter-century? Thus, Defoe's account shows Crusoe repeatedly building canoes and boats, yet through a series of flimsy constructions never once reaching the nearby island of Trinidad.
As a historical note, Crusoe was enraged by the random omissions and additions to his biography, which made him alternately appear to be a bumbling fool, a zealot, or a senile old man. At least one account says he was infuriated by the idea he spent 27 years on his island carrying a parasol to block the sun. Over the irreverent matter of "the dancing bear" inserted at the end of Defoe's text, Crusoe was driven into a rage and threatened the writer with bodily violence at least three times. The writer was intimidated enough by the old man that he did not attempt to publish the work until a few months after Crusoe's reported death at the then-remarkable age of 87.
To his credit, when Defoe first edited the journals and accounts of Crusoe, he took great pains to maintain the original (and often creative) spellings and grammar that his worldly-yet-uneducated subject had used. For example, like so many dabblers at writing, Crusoe thought commas were not so much placed as scattered like ashes. He was also, if Defoe’s manuscript is to be believed, the creator of the run-on sentence.
In the three centuries since, countless publishers and scholars have "improved" the manuscript. Misspelled or inconsistently spelled words have been replaced and grammar adjusted to modern standards with little regard for the flavor of the original tale. This has resulted in hundreds of varying editions being produced over the years.
Faced with the decision of which edition was to be judged “correct,” I've done the same as many scholars before me and satisfied my own ego, falling back on the interpretation of the tale I was first familiar with. While this version is not as raw as the original manuscript, it still contains far more of Crusoe's original spellings and phrasings than many readers are used to. I have also taken the liberty of dividing the book into chapters, of a sort, where the narrative seemed most inclined for a break.
All of this does, of course, skirt around the elephant in the room, as it were. This edition of Robinson Crusoe has been drawn from the original accounts and journals, few copies of which are known to exist. These original documents reveal Crusoe's exile, and indeed much of his life, to be a far darker and more ominous tale than most editions have shown. Seen in this new light, some of these facts will have the manuscript dismissed as a work of pure fiction at best and trite fantasy at worst, even though many of the corroborating elements have always remained in Defoe's more popular version.
This version of that manuscript was first found amidst the papers of writer, historian, and bibliophile Howard P. Lovecraft a few years after his death in 1937. Lovecraft had footnoted an amazing amount of the manuscript and cross-referenced it with certain texts and histories available at the Old College Library of the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and the Curwen Rare Books Library of Miskatonic University. Those footnotes have allowed me to simplify some of Crusoe's more poetic and elaborate descriptions in this abridged edition, and also to put names to many things Defoe found unnameable.
It may also be noted that this edition contains several more proper names than previously published versions. Thanks here must again go to Lovecraft and his extensive research. The writer spent countless hours sifting through historical documents in several languages for birth records, death notices, and other hints at the numerous identities Crusoe himself was oblique about, and Defoe's changes only concealed more.
The issue of time and dates throughout the manuscript should also be acknowledged. At this point in history, England was still using the Julian calendar while many European countries (most notably Spain and Portugal, which figure heavily into the tale) had switched to the modern Gregorian calendar, and there is evidence Crusoe switches freely between the two. While logs, harbor records, and shipping manifests allow us to pinpoint certain moments in the narrative (Lovecraft notes a special thanks to the Cape Cod Maritime Museum), Crusoe's years on the island are documented only by himself. He gives numerous dates throughout his records, yet they very rarely match with one another and inconsistencies are common. At one point in the manuscript October comes just seven months after the previous November, and mid-December follows just two weeks later. Some see this inaccuracy as a sign of Crusoe's degenerating sanity, using the rest of the manuscript as evidence thereof. Lovecraft himself notes the time inconsistencies only occur during Crusoe's years on the island, and sees it as a sign of just how dangerous that place is.
As a final historical note, this view was shared by the Royal British Navy and the modern Trinidad and Tobago Defense Force. After the rediscovery of Crusoe's island in 1890, and the subsequent investigation and explorations, the British fleet began an unofficial blockade that lasted through World War II. When Trinidad and Tobago became an independent nation in 1962, this blockade became a state-mandated 10 mile quarantine zone around the island. To this day two TTDF coast guard large patrol craft are always on maneuvers there.
--P. C.
Los Angeles, March 1st, 2010
My family, my nature,
my first voyage
I was born on the last day of the full moon in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, tho’ not of that country, my father being a foreigner who had fled the Prince-Archbishopric of Bremen and settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York, from whence he had married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson and from whom I was called Robinson Kreisszahn. By the usual corruption of words in England we are now called, nay we call ourselves, and write, our name Crusoe.
I had two elder brothers, both of the same bloodline and inheritance as myself. One was lieutenant-colonel to an English regiment of foot in Flanders, commanded by the famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near Dunkirk when he was run thru with a silver saber. What became of my second brother I was never told, though I was led to guess he had succumb'd to the life of the beast afore I was old enough to know him.
Being the third son of the family, and bred with the wild blood of my sire, my head began to be fill’d very early with rambling thoughts. My father had given me a competent share of learning and designed me for the law. But I would be satisfied with nothing but going to sea. My inclination led me so strongly against the commands of my father, and against all the entreaties and persuasions of my mother and other friends, that there seemed to be something fatal in that propension of nature, tending to the life of misery which was to befall me.
My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious counsel one morning against what he foresaw was my design. He asked me what reasons more than a mere wandering inclination I had for leaving his house and my native country, where I had a prospect of raising my fortune by application and industry, with a life of ease and safety. Mine, he said, was a life of legend hidden by necessity. One ruled by the Moon and her brilliance, one which he had found was best suited to a quiet life of stability and routine. He bid me observe it and I should always find the calamities of life were shared among the upper and lower part of mankind. The middle station had the fewest disasters. Peace and plenty were the handmaids of a middle fortune. This way men went silently and smoothly through the world and comfortably out of it. Not embarrassed with the labours of the hands or of the head. Not harassed with perplexed circumstances, which rob the soul of peace, and the body of rest. Nor hunted by the mobs of townsfolk and churchmen. Not enraged with the animal passion of the beast or the secret hunger for flesh.
After this he press’d me earnestly, and in the most affectionate manner, not to play the young man, not to precipitate myself into miseries which the life I was born in provided against. He would do well for me and endeavour to enter me fairly into the station of life which he had been just recommending to me. To close, he told me I had my elder brother for an example, to whom he had used the same earnest persuasions to keep him from going into the Low Country wars, but could not prevail, his young desires prompting him to run into the army, where he was killed. Tho’ my father said he would not cease to pray for me, yet he would venture to say to me that if I did take this foolish step God would not bless me, and I would have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his counsel, when there might be none to assist in my control or recovery.
I observ’d, in this last part of his discourse, the tears run down his face very plentifully, especially when he spoke of my brother who was kill’d. When he spoke of my having none to assist me, he was so moved he broke off the discourse and told me his heart was so full he could say no more to me.
I was sincerely affected with this discourse, as indeed who could be otherwise? I resolv’d not to think of going abroad any more, but to settle at home according to my father's desire. But, alas! a few days wore it all off. In short, to prevent any of my father's further importunities, a few weeks after I resolv’d to run quite away from him.
It was not till almost a year after this I broke loose, tho’ in the mean time I continued deaf to all proposals of settling to business, and frequently expostulated with my father and mother about their being so determined against what they knew my inclinations prompted me to. Being one day at Hull, where I went casually, and without any purpose of making an elopement at that time, one of my companions, Jakob Martense, then going by sea to London, in his father's ship, prompted me to go with them with the common allurement of seafaring men-- it should cost me nothing for my passage.
I consulted neither father nor mother any more, not so much as sent them word of it, leaving them to hear of it as they might. In an ill hour, God knows, on the first of September, 1651, the day after the last night of the moon, I went on board a ship bound for London.
Never any young adventurer's misfortunes, I believe, began sooner or continued longer than mine. The ship was no sooner gotten out of the Humber but the wind began to blow and the waves to rise in a most frightful manner. As I had never been at sea before, I was most inexpressibly sick in body and terrified in mind. I began now seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and how I was overtaken by the judgment of Heaven for leaving my father's house and abandoning my duty. All the good counsel of my parents, my father's tears and my mother's entreaties, came now fresh into my mind. My conscience reproached me with the breach of my duty to my father.
All this while the storm encreas’d and the sea went very high, tho’ nothing like what I have seen many times since. But it was enough to affect me then, for I was but a young sailor. I expected every wave would have swallowed us up, and every time the ship fell down in the trough or hollow of the sea I thought we should never rise more.
In this agony of mind I made many vows and resolutions. If it would please God here to spare my life this one voyage, if ever I got once my foot upon dry land again, I would go directly home to my father, and never set it into a ship again while I liv’d. Now I saw plainly the goodness of his observations about the middle station of life. How easy, how comfortably he had liv'd all his days and nights, and never had been exposed to tempests at sea or troubles on shore. I resolv’d I would, like a true repenting prodigal, go home to my father.
But the next day, as the wind was abated and the sea calmer, I began to be a little inured to it. The sun went down clear and rose so the next morning. I had slept well in the night and was now no more sea-sick, but very cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea that was so rough and terrible the day before, yet could be so calm and so pleasant in a little time after.
And now my companion, Jakob, who had indeed enticed me away, came to me and said, "Well, Bob," clapping me on the shoulder, "how do you do after it? I warrant you were frightened, wa'n't you, last night, when it blew but a cap-full of wind?"
"A cap-full do you call it?” said I. "It was a terrible storm."
"A storm, you fool," replied he, "do you call that a storm? Why it was nothing at all. Give us but a good ship and sea-room and we think nothing of such a squall of wind as that. But you're but a fresh-water sailor, Bob. Come, let us make a bowl of punch and we'll forget all that. Do you see what charming weather it is now?"
To make short this sad part of my story, we went the old way of all sailors. The punch was made, I was made drunk with it, and in one night's wickedness I drowned all my repentance and all my resolutions for my future. I had, in five or six days, got as complete a victory over conscience as any young fellow who resolv’d not to be troubled with it could desire.
But I was to have another trial for it still, and Providence resolv’d to leave me entirely without excuse. For if I would not take this for a deliverance, the next was to be such a one as the worst and most hardened wretch among us would confess both the danger and the mercy.
The sixth day of our being at sea we came into Yarmouth Roads. The wind having been contrary and the weather calm, we had made but little way since the storm. Here we were obliged to come to anchor and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary for seven or eight days, during which a great many ships from Newcastle came into the same roads, as it was the common harbour where the ships might wait for a wind for the River.
We had not, however, rid here so long but the wind blew too fresh, and after we had lain four or five days, blew very hard. However, the Roads being reckon’d as good as a harbour, and our ground tackle very strong, our men were unconcerned. But the eighth day in the morning the wind increased. We had all hands at work to strike our top-masts and make every thing snug and close so that the ship might ride as easy as possible. By noon the sea went very high indeed. Our ship rode forecastle in and we thought once or twice our anchor had come home, upon which our master ordered out the sheet anchor. So we rode with two anchors a-head and the cables veer’d out to the better end.
By this time it blew a terrible storm indeed, and now I began to see terror and amazement in the faces even of the seamen themselves. The master, tho’ vigilant in the business of preserving the ship, yet as he went in and out of his cabin by me I could hear him softly say to himself several times, “God, be merciful to us! We shall be all lost. We shall be all undone!” So soft were his words that the Lord's name came to my ears as "Gon," though I knew it was not.
During these first hurries I cannot describe my temper. I could ill reassume the first penitence which I had so trampled upon. I thought the bitterness of death had been past, and this would be nothing like the first. But when the master himself came by me, as I said just now, and said we should be all lost, I was dreadfully frighted. I looked out, but such a dismal sight I never saw.
The sea went mountains high and broke upon us every three or four minutes, and in the deep water tween the waves I glimpsed great shapes, like pale eels, each the size and length of a goodly cottage. Our men cried out a ship which rid about a mile a-head of us was overrun by shoggoths, which I took to mean the high waves. Two more ships, being driven from their anchors, were run out of the roads to sea with not a mast standing.
Towards evening, the mate and boatswain begged the master of our ship to let them cut away the fore-mast, which he was very unwilling to do, but the boatswain protested to him if he did not the ship would founder. He consented, and when they had cut away the fore-mast the main-mast stood so loose and shook the ship so much they were obliged to cut her away also and make a clear deck.
Anyone may judge what a condition I was in at all this, who was but a young sailor. But if I can express the thoughts I had about me, I was in tenfold more horror of mind upon account of my former convictions, and having returned from them, than I was at death itself. These, added to the terror of the storm, put me in such a condition I can by no words describe it.
But the worst was not come yet. The storm continued with such fury the seamen themselves acknowledged they had never known a worse. We had a good ship, but she was deep laden and wallowed in the sea. The seamen every now and then cried out she would fall to the shoggoths. It was my advantage, in one respect, that I did not know what they meant by shoggoths. However, the storm was so violent, I saw what is not often seen; the master, the boatswain, and some others more sensible than the rest, at their prayers, though the words and language of their prayers were unknown to me. When the boatswain saw me intruding upon their time with their Lord and master, I was given a heated glare and sent away.
In the middle of the night one of the men cried out we had sprung a leak. All hands were called to the pump. At that very word my heart died within me and I fell backwards upon the side of my bed where I sat. However, the men roused me and told me I who was able to do nothing was as well able to pump as another. I stirred up and went to the pump and worked very heartily.
While this was doing, the master, seeing some light colliers who would not come near us, ordered us to fire a gun as a signal of distress. I was so surprised I thought the ship had broke or some dreadful thing had happened. We worked on but it was apparent the ship would founder. Tho’ the storm began to abate a little, it was not possible she could swim till we might run into a port, so the master continued firing guns for help. A light ship who had rid it out just ahead of us ventured a boat out to help. It was with the utmost hazard the boat came near us, till at last the men rowed very heartily, and ventured their lives to save ours. Our men cast them a rope over the stern which they took hold of. We hauled them close under our stern and got all into their boat.
We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship but we saw her sink. Then I understood for the first time what was meant by shoggoths. I must acknowledge I had hardly eyes to look up when the seamen told me she was overrun. The shapes, like pale worms or catter-pillers, tore at the hull and twisted upon the deck. From that moment, my heart was dead within me, partly with fright, partly with horror of mind, and the thoughts of what was yet before me. They rode the ship beneath the waves, and the boatswain said another prayer to the Lord, whom he also muttered as "--Gon."
While we were in this condition, the men yet labouring at the oar to bring the boat near the shore, we could see a great many people running along the strand to assist us. We made slow way towards the shore, nor were we able to reach it till, being past the light-house at Winterton, the shore falls off to the westward so the land broke off a little of the violence of the wind. Here we got all safe on shore and walked afterwards on foot to Yarmouth, where, as unfortunate men, we were met with great humanity by the magistrates of the town, who assign’d us good quarters and had money given us sufficient to carry us either to London or back to Hull, as we thought fit.
But my ill fate pushed me on now with an obstinacy nothing could resist. Tho’ I had several times loud calls from my reason to go back to Hull, I had no power to do it, even with the moon a week upon me. Certainly, nothing but some such decreed, unavoidable misery which was impossible for me to escape could have pushed me forward against the calm reasonings and persuasions of my most retired thoughts, and against two such visible instructions as I had met with in my first attempt.
My comrade, Jakob, who had helped to harden me before, and who was the master's son, was now less forward. The first time he spoke to me after we were at Yarmouth, which was not till two or three days, for we were separated in the town to several quarters, it appeared his tone was altered. Shaking his head, he asked me how I did, telling his father who I was and how I had come this voyage only for a trial, in order to go farther abroad.
Master Martenese turn’d to me with a very grave and concerned tone. “Young man,” said he, “you ought never to go to sea any more. You ought to take this for a plain and visible token you are not to be a seafaring man.”
“Why, Sir,” said I, “will you go to sea no more?”
“That is another case,” said he. “It is my calling, and therefore my duty. But as you made this voyage for a trial, you see what a taste Heaven has given you of what you are to expect if you persist. Perhaps this has all befallen us on your account, like Jonah in the ship of Tarshish. Pray,” continued he, “what are you, and on what account did you go to sea?”
Upon that I started that he may be experienc’d in the ways of knowing the beast in mortal form, for it was four days fore the first night of the moon and the signs were most definitely upon me. Yet I was not certain of his meaning, for he seem’d not afraid. So I told him but some of my story, of my defiance of my father, and of my inclinations against his wishes.
At the end he burst out with a strange kind of passion. "What had I done," says he, "that such an unhappy wretch should come into my ship? I would not set my foot in the same ship with thee again for a thousand pounds.” This indeed was, as I said, an excursion of his spirits, which were yet agitated by the sense of his loss, and was farther than he could have authority to go. However, he afterwards talked very gravely to me, exhorting me to go back to my father, and not tempt Providence to my ruin. "And young man," said he, "depend upon it, if you do not go back, wherever you go, you will meet with nothing but disasters and disappointments, till your father's words are fulfill’d upon you."
We parted soon after, for I made him little answer, and I saw Jakob and his father no more. As for me, having some money in my pocket, I traveled to London by land. On the road I had many struggles with myself. By the sun I dwelt on what course of life I should take, and whether I should go home, or go to sea. And by night, I let the beast come upon me as it has been wont to do since the first moon of my tenth year, and it kill’d many sheep and a cow.
My second voyage, my third voyage,
my life among the Moors
I remained some time uncertain what course of life to lead. As I stayed a while, the remembrance of the distress I had been in wore off. As that abated, the little notion I had in my desires to a return wore off with it, till at last I quite laid aside the thoughts of it and looked out for a voyage.
That evil influence which carried me away from my father's house hurried me into the wild notion of raising my fortune, and impressed those conceits so forcibly upon me as to make me deaf to all good advice. I went on board a vessel bound to the coast of Africk, or, as our sailors call it, a voyage to Guinea.
It was my great misfortune that in all these adventures I did not ship myself as a sailor. I might have learnt the duty and office of a foremast-man. I might, in time, have qualified myself for a mate or lieutenant, if not for a master. But as it was always my fate to choose for the worse, so I did here. Having money in my pocket and good cloathes upon my back, I would always go on board in the habit of a gentleman, and so I neither had any business in the ship or learnt to do any.
It was my lot first of all to fall into pretty good company in London, which does not always happen to such loose and unguided young fellows as I then was. I fell acquainted with the master of a ship who had been on the coast of Guinea. He was resolv’d to go again, having had very good success there. Hearing me say I had a mind to see the world, he told me if I would go the voyage with him I should be at no expense. I should be his messmate and his companion. If I could carry any thing with me, I should have all the advantage of it that the trade would admit.
I embraced the offer and entered into a strict friendship with this captain, who was an honest and plain-dealing man. I went the voyage with him and carried a small investment with me, which, by the honesty of my friend the captain, I increased very considerably. For I carried about £40 in such toys and trifles as the captain directed me to buy. This £40 I had mustered together by the assistance of some of my relations whom I corresponded with, and who, I believe, got my father, or at least my mother, to contribute so much as that to my first adventure.
This was the only voyage which was successful in all my adventures, which I owe to the integrity and honesty of my friend the captain. Under him also I got a competent knowledge of the mathematics and rules of navigation, learnt how to keep an account of the ship's course, take an observation, and, in short, to understand some things that were needful to be understood by a sailor. In a word, this voyage made me both a sailor and a merchant, for I brought home five pounds nine ounces of gold-dust for my adventure, which yielded me in London at my return almost £300. This fill’d me with those aspiring thoughts which have so completed my ruin.
Yet even in this voyage I had my misfortunes too. I was continually sick, being thrown into a violent calenture by the excessive heat of the climate, our principal trading being upon the coast, from the latitude of 15 degrees north even to the line itself. I also pass’d no less than six moons on board, and while four were hid in my cabin by the fierce fever which even quell'd the beast, two I spent in the deep bowels of the ship’s brig clapped in irons. True, plain iron could not contain the beast, but my father had shewn me, as a lad, how a few silver coins can be placed within knots and against locks, and thus they are render’d incorruptible before the beast’s fearsome strength.
I was now set up for a Guinea trader. My friend, to my great misfortune, dying soon after his arrival, I resolv’d to go the same voyage again and I embarked in the same vessel, once again after the last night of the full moon. Alas! I fell into terrible misfortunes in this voyage.
Our ship, making her course between the Canary Islands and the African shore, was surprised in the grey of the morning by a Turkish rover of Sallee who gave chase to us with all the sail she could make. We crowded as much canvas as our yards would spread or our masts carry, but finding the pirate gained upon us, and would come up with us in a few hours, we prepared to fight.
He came up with us, bringing to just athwart our quarter, and we brought eight of our guns to bear on that side and poured in a broadside upon him. This then made him sheer off after returning fire and pouring in also his small-shot from near 200 men which he had on board. However, we had not a man touched, all our men keeping close.
He prepared to attack us again and we to defend ourselves. Laying us on board the next time upon our other quarter, he entered sixty men upon our decks who fell to cutting and hacking the sails and rigging. We plied them with small-shot, half-pikes, powder-chests, and such, and cleared our deck of them twice. During this fighting, I wish’d I could call out the beast as my father has told me his father could, but alas! I was still young and foolish, and the nights of the full moon were still more than a week away.
However, to cut short this melancholy part of our story, our ship being disabled, three of our men killed and eight wounded, we were obliged to yield. We were carried into Sallee, a port belonging to the Moors. I was not carried up to the emperor's court, as the rest of our prisoners were, but was kept by the captain of the rover as his proper prize and made his slave.
At this surprising change of my circumstances, from a merchant to a miserable slave, I was perfectly overwhelmed. I looked back upon my father's prophetic discourse to me, that I should be miserable and have none to relieve me. Now the hand of Heaven had overtaken me and I was undone without redemption. But this was but a taste of the misery I was to go through.
As my new patron, or master, had taken me home to his house, so I was in hopes he would take me with him when he went to sea again, believing it would sometime or other be his fate to be taken by a Spanish or Portugal man of war and then I should be set at liberty. But this hope of mine was soon taken away, for my patron, it seem'd, knew the signs of my nature and had kept me thus for himself. The day of the first moon, stout manakles, plated with silver, were brought, and in my patron’s courtyard I was strip’d naked and chayn’d to a fountain. Many wise men and vizeers came to view me and study me, for they had heard of almustazeb, which was their word for the beast.
The moon rose and the mantle of the beast came upon me. When this happens, my flesh is burned with unseen fire and great aches and pains fill my limbs and jaw. The world is as if seen thru a lens darken'd with smoke, and heard as if a heavy woolen blanket wrapt round my head. Yet always I have no more freedom than a helpless passenger on a storm-wrack’d ship with a mad captain, and that captain is the beast. I could see the wise men as they discust my change and the beast before them, but their words were but noise, and to my intoxicated mind they look’d like good, succulent meat does to a starv’d man. I could remember they did feed the beast a young lamb, but also prickt its flesh and pluckt its fur and sketch’d it for their scrolls.
The three nights pass’d, and I was left chayn’d thru-out, yet during the day my needs were cared for. I was given wine and shayde and fish and good flat bread which they call’d peetah. Here I meditated nothing but my escape and what method I might take to effect it, but found no way that had the least probability in it.
On the morning after the third night of the moon, I was freed of the silver manakles, which had left welts and blisters on my flesh, and my cloathes return’d to me. I was then order’d by my patron to look after his little garden, and do the common drudgery of slaves about his house. When he came home from his cruise, were he absent for a time, he order'd me to lie in the cabin to look after the ship.
Thus it was for four weeks, until the moon was close again. Then the manakles appear’d once more and I was chayn’d naked yet again where the other slaves could not see me. Two of the wise men return’d to witness my changes again, and with them three new scholars and a new vizeer I had not lay’d eyes on before.
This, then, is how each of my months pass’d in Sallee. The wise men would study the beast each night of the moon, and I would feel the pain and rage of it at being chayn'd and unable to run free as was its nature. The scholars would discourse with me during the day, and many of them spoke Spanish, of which I spoke only a little, and good King’s English, of which I could of course speak freely, and they would ask many questions, viz. what was my name and my age and for how long I had carry’d the beast within me, and of my history and family, and if they carry’d the beast as well. But my father had long instructed not to speak of family, and so these questions I would not answer.
Many times in these conversations would come mention of a great book or work, which they called Nekri Nomikan. I asked of the nature of this work, but depending on which of the wise men I asked, each would give a different answer. One vizeer call’d it a book of history which told of things like the almustazeb, while another spoke of it as like a Bible, but for the worship of dark, heathen gods. Still another told it as a book of magick written by a sorcerer who had been driven mad by the writing of it.
After about two years of this life, an odd circumstance presented itself which put the thought of making some attempt for my liberty again in my head. My patron used once or twice a week, sometimes oftener, to go out into the road a-fishing. He always took me (when it was between moons) and a young Moresco with him. We made him very merry, and I proved very dexterous in catching fish, insomuch that sometimes he would send me with one of his kinsmen and the youth to catch a dish of fish for him.
Having the long-boat of our English ship, he ordered the carpenter of his ship to build a little cabin in the middle of the long-boat, like that of a barge, with a place to stand behind it to steer. She sail'd with a shoulder-of-mutton sail, and the boom gibbed over the top of the cabin, which lay very snug and low, and had in it room for him to lie and a table to eat on, with some small lockers.
It happened he had appointed to go out in this boat with two or three Moors of some distinction and had therefore sent on board a larger store of provisions than ordinary, and had order'd me to get ready three fuzees with powder and shot, for they design'd some sport of fowling as well as fishing.
I got all things ready as he had directed and waited the next morning with the boat washt clean, her ensign and pendants out, and every thing to accommodate his guests. By and by my patron came on board alone and told me his guests had put off going, upon some business that fell out. He order'd me with the man and boy, as usual, to go out with the boat and catch them some fish, for his friends were to sup at his house, and commanded as soon as I got some fish I should bring it home to his house.
This moment my former notions of deliverance darted into my thoughts, for now I found I was like to have a little ship at my command. My master being gone, I prepar’d to furnish myself for a voyage.
My first contrivance was to make a pretence to speak to this Moor, to get something for our subsistence on board. I told him we must not presume to eat of our patron's bread.
He said, "That is true." So he brought a large basket of rusk, or bisket of their kind, and three jars with fresh water into the boat. I knew where my patron's case of bottles stood and I conveyed them into the boat while the Moor was on shore, as if they had been there before for our master. I conveyed also a great lump of bees-wax into the boat, which weighed above half a hundred weight, with a parcel of twine or thread, a hatchet, a saw, and a hammer. His name was Ismael, whom they call Moley. So I called him. "Moley," said I, "our patron's guns are on board the boat. Can you not get a little powder and shot? It may be we may kill some alcamies for ourselves, for I know he keeps the gunner's stores in the ship."
"Yes," says he. "I'll bring some." Accordingly he brought a great leather pouch which held about a pound and a half of powder, and another with shot, and put all into the boat. At the same time I had found some powder of my master's in the great cabin, with which I fill’d one of the large bottles in the case, which was almost empty, pouring what was in it into another. Thus furnished with every thing needful, we sailed out of the port to fish. The castle, which is at the entrance of the port, knew who we were and took no notice of us.
We were not above a mile out of the port before we hauled in our sail and set us down to fish. The wind blew from the north, which was contrary to my desire. Had it blown southerly, I had been sure to have made the coast of Spain and at least reached to the bay of Cadiz. But my resolutions were, blow which way it would, I would be gone from that horrid place where I was prickt each moon and leave the rest to fate.
After we had fished some time and catched nothing, I said to the Moor, "This will not do. Our master will not be thus served. We must stand farther off."
Ismael, thinking no harm, agreed and set the sails. As I had the helm I run the boat out near a league farther, and then brought her to as if I would fish. Giving the boy the helm, I stept forward to where the Moor was and I took him by surprise, with my arm under his waist, and toss'd him clear overboard.
He rose immediately, for he swam like a cork, and begged to be taken in. He swam so strong after the boat he would have reached me very quickly. I stept into the cabin and, fetching one of the fowling-pieces, I presented it at him. Said I to he, "You swim well enough to reach to the shore and the sea is calm. Make the best of your way to shore and I will do you no harm. But if you come near the boat I'll shoot you through the head, for I am resolv’d to have my liberty."
So Ismael turned himself about, and swam for the shore, and I make no doubt but he reached it with ease.
When he was gone I turned to the boy, whom they called Xury, and said to him, "Xury, if you will be faithful to me I'll make you a great man. But if you will not swear by Mahomet and your father's beard to be true to me, I must throw you into the sea too."
The boy smiled in my face and spoke so innocently I could not mistrust him. He swore to be faithful to me and go all over the world with me.
While I was in view of Ismael, I stood out directly to sea with the boat, rather than stretching to windward, so that they might think me gone towards the Straits' mouth (as indeed any one that had been in their wits must have been supposed to do), for who would have supposed we were sailed on to the southward to the Barbarian coast, where whole nations of Negroes were sure to surround us with the canoes, and destroy us? Where we could never once go on shore but we should be devour'd by savage creatures, or more merciless savages of human kind?
But as soon as it grew dusk in the evening, I changed my course, and steered south and by east, bending my course a little toward the east, that I might keep in with the shore. Having a fair, fresh gale of wind, and a smooth, quiet sea, I made such sail that I believe by the next afternoon, when I first made the land, I could not be less than 150 miles south of Sallee, quite beyond the Emperor of Morocco's dominions, or indeed of any other king thereabout, for we saw no people.
My flight along the coast, Xury's terror,
my salvation
Such was the fright I had taken at the Moors, and the dreadful apprehensions I had of falling into their hands, I would not stop or go on shore or come to an anchor. The wind continuing fair till I had sailed in that manner five days, I concluded if any vessels were in chase of me they also would now give over. So I ventured to make to the coast and come to an anchor in the mouth of a little river, I knew not what, or where. Neither what latitude, what country, what nation, or what river. I neither saw, nor desired to see, any people. The principal thing I wanted was fresh water. We came into this creek in the evening, resolving to swim on shore as soon as it was dark and discover the country. But as soon as it was quite dark, we heard such dreadful noises of the barking, roaring, and howling of wild creatures, of we knew not what kinds. The sounds carry'd no fright for me, for animals can smell the beast beneath my skin and will most always shy away from my kind, but the poor boy was ready to die with fear and begged of me not to go on shore till day.
"Well, Xury," said I, "then I won't. But it may be we may see men by day who will be as bad to us as those lions."
"Then we give them the shoot gun," says Xury, laughing, "make them run wey." Such English Xury spoke by conversing among us slaves. However I was glad to see the boy so cheerful, and I gave him a dram (out of our patron's case of bottles) to cheer him up. After all, Xury's advice was good, and I took it. We dropped our little anchor and lay still all night. I say still for we slept none. In two or three hours, we saw vast great creatures of many sorts come down to the sea-shore and run into the water, wallowing and washing for the pleasure of cooling themselves. They made such hideous howlings and yellings that I never indeed heard the like, even from the beast.
Xury was dreadfully frighten'd, and indeed so was I too, for I bethought myself that the animals of Africk may not be aware of the beast and would not avoid it. But we were both more frighten'd when we heard one of these mighty creatures come swimming towards our boat. We could not see him, but we might hear him by his blowing to be a monstrous huge and furious animal. Xury said it was a lion, and it might be so for aught I know. Poor Xury cried to me to weigh the anchor and row away.