Fanny (63 page)

“Article II. Ev’ry Man shall be call’d fairly in turn by the List on Board o’ Prizes, because o’er an’ above their Proper Share, they are allow’d a Shift o’ Clothes. But if they defraud the Company e’en to the Value o’ one Piece o’ Eight whether in Plate or Jewels or Money, they shall be mercilessly
maroon’d…
”

Here the Men drew their Breath in Terror, for Marooning was ev’ry Pyrate’s Nightmare.

“An’ if any Man rob another, he shall have his Nose an’ Ears slit an’ be put ashore where he is sure to encounter Hardship…” A grievous Gasp was heard from drunken Men, but Lancelot went on, reading more dramatically than our own Mr. Garrick reading Shakespeare: “Article III. The Captain shall have two full Shares, the Quartermaster one an’ a half, the Doctor, Gunner, Boatswain, an’ Sailin’ Master one an’ a quarter. He that first sights a Prize shall have his Pick o’ Weapons aboard her. He that first boards her shall have a double Share o’ Booty!”

“Hurrah!” shouted the Men.

“Article IV,” read Lancelot. “None shall game fer Money with either Dice or Cards…”

The Men moan’d loudly at this, but seem’d resign’d.

“Article V. Lights an’ Candles shall be put out at Eight o’ Night, an’ if any desire to drink after that Hour, they shall sit upon the open Deck without Lights, to avoid the Danger o’ Fire at Sea.”

“Aye, ’tis a good Rule,” one Tar near me mutter’d to his Mate.

“Article VI. Each Man shall keep his Piece, Cutlass, an’ Pistols at all Times clean an’ ready fer Action, an’ any Man that takes another’s Piece shall have his Nose slit!”

“Aye! Aye!” cried the Tars.

“Article VII. He that shall desert the Ship or his Quarters in Time o’ Battle shall be punish’d by Death or Maroonin’. Fer Cowardice we cannot countenance aboard our Ships, an’ Cowards shall be hang’d from a Yardarm till they be dead, or maroon’d where they shall surely starve to Death!”

Silence and grave Looks greeted this Rule.

“Article VIII. If any Man shall carry a Woman to Sea in Disguise or otherwise, he shall suffer Death…”

At this my Blood began to boil in Fury at the Lancelot of Old, for was he not suppos’d to found a True “Deocracy” where Men and Women were wholly equal? Alas, most Revolutionaries are none where Women are concern’d, yet for the nonce, I held my Tongue.

“Article IX. None shall strike another on board the Ship, but ev’ry Man’s Quarrel shall be ended upon Shore by Sword or Pistol in this Manner: At the Word o’ Command from the Quartermaster, each Man, bein’ previously placed Back to Back, shall turn an’ fire immediately. If any Man do not, the Quartermaster shall knock the Piece out o’ his Hand. If both miss their Aim, they shall take to their Cutlasses, and he that draweth the first Blood shall be declar’d the Victor.”

This Article was receiv’d with quiet Nods, for ’twas rather common amongst Pyrates to have a Means of settling Disputes that should not involve the Crew in a gen’ral Mêlée.

“Article X. The Musicians shall have rest on the Sabbath only, by Right. On all other Days by Favour only.”

At this the Drummers play’d a great Drum Roll and there were shouts of “Huzzah!”

“Article XI. No Man shall talk o’ breakin’ up their Way o’ Livin’ till each hath a Share of a thousand Pounds in Plate or Jewels or Money. He that shall have the Misfortune to lose a Limb in the Time o’ Engagement shall have a Sum o’ eight hundred Pieces o’ Eight from the Common Stock fer a Leg, six hundred fer an Arm, five hundred fer an Eye, four hundred fer a Hand, an’ fer Lesser Hurts proportionately. Likewise, if any Artificial Limbs are taken from a Prize, they shall be given out accordin’ to strict Need. Moreo’er, a Man unfit—by Nature o’ his Wounds—fer Battle, shall be given the Post o’ Cook fer the Rest o’ the Voyage an’ receive a half Share o’ all Booty taken. If there be more Cooks aboard a ship than one, the other crippl’d Men shall serve as Sail-Makers, Carpenters, or other Specialists, accordin’ to their Craft. If they have none, they
still
shall be given the Means to live until the Conclusion o’ said Cruise.”

The Men of the
Hopewell
seem’d amaz’d by this Provision, for they were us’d, as most Common Seamen were, to the most barbarous Treatment in both Sickness and Health.

“Article XII. No Man shall berate another accordin’ to the Colour o’ his Skin, but Black an’ White shall live as Brothers.”

Here the Merry Men chear’d; but the Tars of the
Hopewell
lookt a bit confus’d, having ne’er heard of such Equality before.

“Moreo’er,” Lancelot went on, “when we shall find the proper Haven—whether in the West Indies, North America, or Madagascar, we shall name it
Libertalia
, in accordance with our Beliefs in Liberty an’ Justice. At such a Time another Vote shall be taken an’ those who do not wish to join our great Deocracy shall be provided with a Ship to sail the Seas an’ they may continue in a Life o’ Pyracy just as they please….” Lancelot ceas’d dramatically; the Men applauded him again. “Any Questions ere we swear?” he askt.

I saw the Sailors whisp’ring amongst themselves, but no one rais’d a Hand to ask a Question. The Articles were far beyond a Common Seaman’s wildest Dreams. In a Time when most Tars could hardly hope to see twelve Pounds for a whole Year’s wretched Labour, a thousand Pounds seem’d like the Fortune of an Indian Mogul—and indeed ’twas. Why, e’en the Governour of the East India Company earn’d no more than three hundred Pounds per Year!

“Hath any Man a Question?” Lancelot askt.

Silence reign’d on Deck.

“Hath any Man a Question?” Lancelot askt again.

“No!” I cried, leaping to my Feet. “But one Woman hath!”

I stood then, trembling with Anger, clutching Bartholomew’s Book. My Skirts were torn and Blood-stain’d, my Hair shorn, my Feet bare, my Cheaks sooty with Gun-Powder. I hardly lookt like a Female at all—and scarcely like the Beauteous Fanny of Old—but in my Heart, I was as much a Woman as e’er before, nay, more.

“The Articles…” said I, quaking with Fear and Rage (as a Woman will quake when she is all alone amidst two hundred Men). “The Articles make no Provision for the Female of the Species!”

The Men all turn’d as one and lookt at me. Some began to jeer and some star’d as if they’d seen a ghostly Apparition. Was this a Woman at all, or just a Raggamuffin of no particular Sex claiming to be a Member of the Fair? I swear the Jeering heated up my Rage, and I drew Pow’r from some secret Source whose Name I do not know.

“Laugh at me, then,” I cried, “I care not—but what sort of Democracy may it be where Blacks and Whites may live as Brothers but Women are nowhere mention’d in your Articles, except as Cause for Death? And what sort of Democracy may it be where the Sex who breath’d you all with Life and mother’d you, hath no Rights and Privileges at all? And what sort of Democracy may it be where Men will found a great and glorious Nation yet treat half of the Human Race as Outcasts and Pariahs?” Bedazzl’d with my own Goddess-given Pow’rs of Speech, I warm’d to my Subject and continu’d e’en more dramatically:

“Without us, there are no Pyrates, no Pyrate Ships, no Merchantmen to seize, no Sea Captains to capture, no Sailing Masters to set Sails, no Gunners to man the Cannon, no Cooks to stir the Stew, no Carpenters to build the Masts, no Sail-Makers to sew the Sails, no Drummers to make you merry, no Quartermasters to divide the Booty! Go your own Way without Women and where will you replenish your Crews? Will you seize Women and use ’em as Breeding Stock, then throw ’em to the Sharks? Will you seize Children and use ’em as Cannon Fodder? So hath it been for the whole History of the World and sure
this
is no Democracy! But if you truly mean your Motto, ‘
A Deo a Libertate
,’ and if you truly mean to make a
Libertalia
, in Spirit as in Name, then you must honour your Mothers as well as your Fathers, and accord that Sex a Place both in your Hearts and in your sacred Articles!”

Some Men jeer’d at this, whilst some lookt daz’d and bemus’d, for ’twas all so strange to ’em.

“The Wench is daft!” cried the First Mate of the
Hopewell
—that same who ow’d his Position to Mr. Cocklyn’s Death. “I’ll sign no Articles that mention Bleedin’ Women!”

“Nor will I!” cried the Second Mate.

“Aye! Aye!” shouted some of the
Hopewell
’s Men. “Women are a Curse aboard!”

“If I be curst,” I continu’d in a Rage, “then wherefore are you all redeem’d from the cruellest Master you have e’er known? If I be curst, then wherefore doth that Villain Whitehead stand bound unto the Mast? If I be curst, then wherefore have you found your Lancelot to lead you all to Liberty and
Libertalia
? I warn you, Lads, if you dispose of me, your Ships shall perish sure as I’m standing here; for as your Fortune turn’d once, so may it turn again, since nothing is constant in Nature but Change!”

Where my fighting Words came from I knew not, since oft’ in Fits of Rage we speak the Contents of our Hearts more fluently than in Tranquillity, but suddenly I was seiz’d with such Eloquence as would have made Athena herself pale with Envy and Diana take to her Stag and ride away upon the Moonbeams that attend her!

“O ye Tars and Sea-Artists, Craftsmen and Sons of Apollo”—here I indicated the rude Drummers and Musicians to flatter ’em—“do not conclude from your late Success that Fortune always will be favourable! She will not always give you the Protection of Lancelot and his Merry Men! She will not always faithfully follow you across the perilous Seas! Remember, the Sun rises, comes to its meridian Height, and stays not there upon the Height, but at once begins to decline. Let this admonish you to reflect on the constant Revolution in all Sublunary Affairs, for the greater be your Glory, the nearer you are to your Declension! We are taught by all we behold in Nature that Life is nought but continual Movement. No sooner doth the Sea lap upon the Land, but it retreats again. No sooner doth the Tree flow’r, but the Flow’rs fall. No sooner doth the Woman bloom with Child, but the Child drops from her and she begins to wither. Ev’ry Herb and Shrub and e’en our own Bodies teach us that nothing is durable nor can be counted on. Time passes away insensible to all our Protestations, and all our Succours begin to shrink and fade. I tell you if you now dispose of me and slight all Womankind in your Articles, the Pow’rs that have brought about your Redemption shall once more abandon you, and you shall fall into the Hands of an e’en crueller Master than Captain Whitehead here!”

The Tars began to mutter amongst themselves. Principles and Justice most of ’em car’d not a Fig for, but Seamen, as I’ve said, are a Superstitious Lot and I had most craftily play’d upon this Quality. Sure, I did not mention the Goddess as the Source of their Redemption (tho’ I was certain ’twas She), for they might have burnt me as a Witch! But my Rhetorick began to stir ’em to their Bones when I planted in their foolish Hearts and Minds the Hint of Superstition; whereupon many began to feel that I alone was the Mascot and the Figurehead of their Good Fortune! (’Tis oft’ true, Belinda, that whilst Men wish to conquer Women at large, they’ll accept one special Woman as a Token, the better to subdue the Multitudes!)

Lancelot, for his part, stood amaz’d at my new Pow’rs of Speech, so very like his own. Dimly, he recall’d his Promise to me in that last Letter which had seal’d my Doom with evil Kate. Nor could he fail to see that I had rais’d the Doubts and Superstitions of the Men, and ’twas his Duty as their Leader to satisfy such Qualms:

“The Lass hath Reason,” he now said to the assembl’d Tars. “Fer doth not ev’ry Ship have its Figurehead? An’ doth not ev’ry Family have its Mother? I say that we appoint our Madam Fanny as Mascot o’ the Pyrate Flotilla an’ honour an’ respect her as our own sweet Dam!”

“Bah!” cried the First Mate. “’Tis no proper Pyracy with Women aboard!”

“On the Contrary, Lads,” Lancelot said, warming to the Subject, “have ye ne’er heard tell o’ Mary Read an’ Annie Bonny? They were as fierce a Brace o’ Hellcats as e’er sail’d the Seven Seas an’ braver than most Men! ’Tis true that Annie Bonny was an Irish-born Wench, not English, an’ rais’d in America, too, which perhaps accounts for her well-known fierce Temper. Why, she drew a Knife once, on a Lad that try’d to rape her, and scar’d him off as well as any Man. When
she
sail’d the Main, ’twas no Curse to have a woman Pyrate aboard. I’faith, Lads, ’twas the best o’ Luck. Alas, she was braver than wise, our Annie was, an’ married a cowardly Cur like many a brave Lass. When her fickle Mate, Jim Bonny, turn’d Informer ’gainst the Pyrates o’ New Providence, she ran off with Jack Rackham, the Pyrate King, an’ sail’d the Seas with him instead. Cleverer she was than most o’ yer Masculine Pyrates, an’ fer a glorious Time the Scourge o’ the Bahamas. I’ve heard tell o’ ‘The Bonny Bitch’ from many a Pyrate an’ none that saw her fail’d to honour her as brave. Likewise her dearest Friend, the fam’d Mary Read, who’d fought in Flanders in a Man’s Disguise. Together these Wenches fill’d the Caribee with Fear, an’ none there jest o’ women Pyrates now!”

“Then let the Wench learn to fight if she’s to sail with us!” the First Mate of the
Hopewell
cried.

“Aye, aye,” cried a Number of the Tars.

“’Tis only fair,” said I. “I’ll take no Privileges which I have not earn’d. If you will add Women to your Articles, I’ll learn to fight with Cutlass and with Pistol and fight I will like any Man.”

“Amend the Articles!” Horatio cried, for he was e’er soft on me and could not bear to see us part again.

“I shall affix an Asterisk,” cried Lancelot, “signifyin’ that where’er the Word ‘Man’ appears, ‘Woman’ is meant as well.” (O this was not perfect, I knew, but ’twould do for now.)

“And cross out Article Eight!” I cried. “Or I’ll not sail!” For I’d be damn’d if I’d board any Ship with such a Rule about carrying Women.

“Ye drive a hard Bargain, Wench,” said Lancelot.

“If I were hard,” said I, “I’d make ye change the whole Parchment to read ‘Woman’ in ev’ry Article—with an Asterisk saying ‘Woman’ also includes ‘Man’!”

The Men laugh’d nervously as if I jested here, but I was in dead earnest.