From the vignettes

To understand what the vignettes are, please refer to my first article, "Peter Cornelius Hoof and Me," and to my book interview.

The prison was dirty and unkempt. So was he. He had been there for two months. His main thought the entire time was gratitude that he'd had the foresight to send his daughter away before he was arrested. He had sent her with his best friend and former Quarter Master De Lorme. His wish was that she be raised in France, where she would be educated and live a comfortable life with no taint of her father's piratical crimes. He had sent her with De Lorme on a French ship with a supply of money and references. He was sure his family would take her in and help De Lorme see that his wishes were fulfilled.

So far his jailers and the authorities had no idea that he even had a daughter, much less that she wasn't on the island. They would not find out from him.

So he was surprised when one his jailers, the one he considered to be the uglier, but kindlier, man, came up to the door of his cage to announce that he had a visitor.

Standing slowly and a bit unsteadily from lack of activity and a poor diet of tainted bread and water, he tried to brush off some of the dirt and straw that had become a part of his hair and clothing during his confinement.

Two months of living in dirt with no chance to wash had left him unshaven and his clothes in tatters. His previous visitors had been government representatives whose revulsion of his smell and his appearance he had enjoyed to no end.

But he had been a clean and stylish man before his arrest, and suddenly the thought of seeing someone other than a pompous government flunky left him feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Who is it?” he inquired as he brushed himself off.

“Who am I to know?” the guard replied. “It's not for me to know and not for you to question,” he barked as he unlocked the door of the cage. He slammed it closed behind them.

Realizing that this “kindlier” jailer had at least had the grace not to gut punch him or slug him in the mouth for the act of asking even the simplest question, he resolved to go along.

“Get moving,” he ordered, gesturing for him to walk to the left, towards the main room of the jail. Not much cleaner than the cells, there at least was a table and a lantern.

“No, not there,” the guard growled impatiently at him when he moved towards the table, “in there.” He pointed at a room off to the left that he had barely noticed before. He had always assumed it was just another cage. Now he could see the silhouette of a robed and hooded figure. He went towards it. He heard the door close behind him.

The figure lifted it's hood. It was De Lorme. His face was bruised andis cheeks were sunken. Matthieu barely choked out, “What...?” when a small figure darted out from behind De Lorme and threw itself at him, wrapping its arms around him. His daughter. His daughter who was supposed to be on her way to France, and safety. He felt his breath leave him. He fell to his knees.

“Oceane!” He cried, burying himself in her long brown hair. He threw his arms around her, and his eyes burned with tears. It was a moment before he could speak.

“What are you doing here?” he finally managed to choke out.

“We brought him back,” a strange voice spoke from the shadows. Suddenly several men stepped out from the far sides of the room.

“We had no choice,” De Lorme said. “They attacked our ship when we were barely three days out.”

“Clever of you to hide her for so long,” one of the strange men spoke, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. “But the ruse is over. She will be taken to a place where her every move will be monitored. Her days of freedom are over, and you have lost.”

Matthieu could do nothing but hold Oceane, on his knees in total defeat.

Pardon offered by King George

By the King,

A PROCLAMATION for Suppressing of PYRATES

GEORGE R.

Whereas we have received Information, that several Persons, Subjects of Great Britain, have, since the 24th Day of June, in the Year of our Lord, 1715, committed divers Pyracies and Robberies upon the High-Seas, in the West-Indies, or adjoining to our Plantations, which hath and may Occasion great Damage to the Merchants of Great Britain, and others trading into those Parts; and tho' we have appointed such a Force as we judge sufficient for suppressing the said Pyracies, yet the more effectually to put an End to the same, we have thought fit, by and with the Advice of our Privy Council, to Issue this our Royal Proclamation;

And we do hereby promise, and declare, that in Case any of the said Pyrates, shall on, or before, the 5th of September, in the Year of our Lord 1718, surrender him or themselves, to one of our Principal Secretaries of State in Great Britain or Ireland, or to any Governor or Deputy Governor of any of our Plantations beyond the Seas; every such Pyrate and Pyrates so surrendering him, or themselves, as aforesaid, shall have our gracious Pardon, of, and for such, his or their Pyracy, or Pyracies, by him or them committed, before the fifth of January next ensuing.

And we do hereby strictly charge and command all our Admirals, Captains, and other Officers at Sea, and all our Governors and Commanders of any Forts, Castles, or other Places in our Plantations, and all other our Officers Civil and Military, to seize and take such of the Pyrates, who shall refuse or neglect to surrender themselves accordingly.

And we do hereby further declare, that in Case any Person or Persons, on, or after, the 6th Day of September, 1718, shall discover or seize, or cause or procure to be discovered or seized, any one or more of the said Pyrates, so refusing or neglecting to surrender themselves as aforesaid, so as they may be brought to Justice, and convicted of the said Offence, such Person or Persons, so making such Discovery or Seizure, or causing or procuring such Discovery or Seizure to be made, shall have and receive as a Reward for the same, viz. for every Commander of any private Ship or Vessel, the Sum of 100 l. for every Lieutenant, Master, Boatswain, Carpenter, and Gunner, the Sum of 40 l. for every inferior Officer, the Sum of 30 l. and for every private Man, the Sum of 20 l.

And if any Person or Persons, belonging to, and being Part of the Crew, of any such Pyrate Ship and Vessel, shall, on or after the said sixth Day of September, 1718, seize and deliver, or cause to be seized or delivered, any Commander or Commanders, of such Pyrate Ship or Vessel, so as that he or they be brought to Justice, and convicted of the said Offence, such Person or Persons, as a Reward for the same, shall receive for every such Commander, the Sum of 200 l. which said Sums, the Lord Treasurer, or the Commissioners of our Treasury for the Time being, are hereby required, and desired to pay accordingly.

Given at our Court, at Hampton-Court, the fifth Day of September, 1717, in the fourth Year of our Reign.

God save the KING.

 

Aliti

Aliti – 2002 to May 9^th, 2014

Tonight's visit to the Vet proved that he has deteriorated significantly since his last visit two weeks ago. He is basically blind – he reacts to sound but doesn't really initiate any action of his own. He is friendly, never tries to bite or growl or scratch, but as the Vet says, his demeanor is one of “just laying around,” and not really initiating any activity. The Vet said he appeared to have a lesion, for which there is not really much to be done. He could have sent me to a specialist, but he is so non-enthusiastic about life that we both felt that it would just prolong his suffering. He barely ate and could hardly get around anymore. The Vet thought maybe the lesion and the sight problem contributed to the staggering. He also had tremors, which almost looked like he was getting ready to have a seizure. You couldn't tell about the sight problem at home probably because he lived here so long he knew his way around by heart. Any Vet who worked with him loved him because he never tried to bite or scratch or even hiss. He would just lay there and let them do their job. Dr Sharkey was sad to

see him go.


Those who know me know that I lost my 18 year cat Houdini back in February. Aliti has not been the same since. Now they are both at peace and playing together again like youngsters.

The Black Bellamy

This week features an excerpt from the book, The Narrow Land: Folk Chronicles of Old Cape Cod: Elizabeth Reynard. Chatham Historical Society, Chatham, MA, 1933.

Here is just one of the stories found in Cape Cod folklore that explores the story of Sam Bellamy. His body was never identified after the wreck of the Whydah Galley, and some of the stories speculate that he survived the wreck and lived out his life on Cape Cod.

The Black Bellamy came out of the West Country, England, and when he was old enough to know better he staked his fortune on the salvaging of “bags of silver” from a Spanish vessel wrecked in the West Indies. On the way to this doubtful venture he put in at Eastham Harbor and tried to interest Cape men in his scheme; but the Narrow Land knew too many wrecks bleaching their beams off the outer reefs to spend money on an unseen hulk sunk in the Spanish Seas. Her sailors wished the “bonnieman” luck and nodded approval of his tight little sloop, old and “sea-kindly”; for this happened in the spring of 1715 while Samuel Bellamy was staying at Higgins' Tavern in Eastham, not far from the Burying Acre, and near the Minister's Pond.

One evening to clear his head from the fumes of Sandwich ale and cod muddle, Sam took a stroll through the “Judgment Lot,” and as he reached the southern end of it, heard a girl's voice, singing. He traced the song to a circular hollow surrounded by trees, and coming to the edge, saw, below him, a white cloud floating. From the cloud rose a song. He strode downslope, through 'Tarnity Briars, and found that the cloud was a flower apple tree. Under the tree stood Maria Hallett, a drip-rush lanthorn in one hand and blossoms in the other. She was fifteen years old; her hair glistened like corn silk at suncoming; her eyes were he color of hyacinth, like the deeps of Gull Pond. Black Bellamy made masterly love, sailorman love that remembers how a following wind falls short and makes way while it blows. Maria Hallett had never seen a man as handsome as Sam Bellamy; just out of the West Country, his black hair curly, his fortune buckled in his three-cornered pocket and mighty dreams in his eye. Love was settled between them in no time at all, under the apple tree by the Burying Acre, and Sam sailed with a promise to Mara that when he returned he would wed her by ring to the words of the Rev. Mr. Treat, and in a sloop, laden with treasure, carry her back to the Spanish Indies, there to be made princess of a West Indian Isle.

Maria went home to wait for him, and in time gave birth to a “bonnieman's child” with black eyes and black hair. Maria was afraid to show it. She hid the boy in the Knowles' barn, and crept put there to feed it, but a straw caught in its throat and it died. A week later the selectmen confined her in Eastham prison, but she proved as wild as Nauset wind, and her wistful eyes and silky hair made her pleadings irresistible to jailors. Time after time she escaped and was caught, for as soon as she won freedom she went to the apple tree hollow, or ran to the Backside to watch for the sails of Bellamy's ship. The sheriffs had only to walk to the high Clay Pounds to discover her, a small figure standing silhouetted against the sea.

After a time the elders grew weary of chastising her, and the townspeople, impressed by her ability to break jail at will, stoned her away from Eastham as a witch. She went north, far from habitation, and with her own hands built a hut on the Backside. From the sand meadow at her doorstone she looked to the east where ships rode like ivory beads on the long blue chain of the Cape's seaway. Below the sand meadow, breakers foamed, eating the tall cliffs, licking the peat strata from which Maria Cut fuel. The slow withdrawal of the tides at ebb left unending reaches of sand, over which lights danced and ships seemed to ride.

No woman on the peninsula wove the beautiful patterns that Maria Hallett knew how to draw from her loom. Many fine weavers tried to copy them, but the wools snarled and the designs faltered, so Maria took in weaving in exchange for bread; and because she never lacked for food, an was independent as tidewater, people continued to think her a witch, and said that she danced on Sabbath nights in the hollow by the Burying Acre, and that she had signed a pact with the devil in exchange for young Bellamy's soul.

All this time, in the hot Indies, a young man from the West Country toiled over a waterlogged wreck, spent his last farthing, with never sixpence to show for it, not to mention silver or gold. With him worked a Nantucket sailorman named Paul (or Paulsgrave) Williams, and the two became close friends. Whether or not Sam Bellamy remembered his promise to Maria, he soon grew impatient at the failure of his salvaging, and as a swifter road to wealth, he and Williams decided to turn pirate, or, as they put it, “to go on the account.” Bellamy possessed his sloop, long due at the Sea of Sargossa, but he could sail her, under press of canvas, like a ghost vessel.

During the first weeks of their “piratical undertaking,” they fell in with Benjamin Hornygold, a stouthearted buccaneer in command of the Mary Anne, an also with Captain Lebous in the sloop Postillion. The combined fleet made several rich captures; but Hornygold refused to plunder English vessels, and on this issue Sam saw his chance to foster disaffection among the buccaneers and profit by discontent. When the matter of plundering the king's ships was finally put to a vote, only twenty-six pirates were willing to follow Hornygold, while ninety elected Bellamy as their new captain and determined upon a career of swift, relentless looting, with the rapid accumulation of a fortune, and prompt purchase of the king's pardon.

To be continued...