Part 14

Jonas Evans was as good as his word, and when Antony went to work in the warehouse Nick was given a place there too. The dark-haired man had some pieces of silver in his pocket, and he bought himself quiet-colored clothes and a broad-brimmed hat, so that he looked very much like other men in the town; but his black eyes would shine and his clean-shaven lips curl in amusement as they had done when Antony first rowed his boat almost into his arms. However, the people of Charles Town were accustomed to having all sorts of men settle among them, as Peter Duval had said, and they made no inquiries as to what a man had done before he arrived there, but only considered how he behaved now, and so they took it for granted that Nicholas Carter was quite respectable enough, and didn't trouble themselves about his past. And who would be likely to think that the man with the long black hair and mustache who had landed from Blackbeard's small-boat and insolently ordered the governor to furnish him with drugs was the same man as this young fellow, who was polite and friendly with every one?

The room in the warehouse where Antony and Nick worked had a window that looked out across the water, and often the boy saw his friend gazing at the dancing waves with longing eyes. But when Nick would catch Antony looking at him he would grin and shake his head, and then try to appear very much absorbed in the job he had on hand. At such times the boy, who had only tasted that free life of sea and shore for a few days, could appreciate the feelings of the man who had known that life for years.

Meantime Charles Town had been very busy dealing with the pirates it had captured. There was no jail in the town, so most of the crew of the _Royal James_ had been locked up in the watch house, while their leader, Stede Bonnet, and two of his men had been given in charge of the marshal to keep under close guard in his own house. After some time the crew were put on trial before Chief Justice Trott, and the attorney-general read to the court and jury a list of thirty-eight ships that Bonnet and Teach had captured in the last six months. The prisoners had no lawyers to defend them, but two very able lawyers to attack them, and the Chief Justice and the other judges, as well as the jury, were convinced that the crew of the _Royal James_ had beyond question been guilty of piracy. Four, however, were freed of the charge, while the rest were sentenced to be hung, the customary punishment for pirates.

Stede Bonnet, their captain, was not put on trial. The guards at the marshal's house had been very careless, and Bonnet had made friends with some men in the town. With the help of these friends he had disguised himself as a woman, and with one of his mates had escaped in a boat with an Indian and a negro. People said that his plan was to reach the ships of another pirate named Moody, who had appeared off the bar of the harbor a few days before, with a ship of fifty guns, and two smaller ships, likewise armed, that he had captured on their way from New England to Charles Town.

From the warehouse window Antony and Nick saw the sails of this insolent new sea-rover, who dared stand so close inshore, waiting to pounce on any boats that might put out from the town.

The governor had already sent word to England, asking for aid in his warfare with the buccaneers, but none came from England. So he told the Council that they must act for themselves, and they ordered the best ships in port impressed into service and armed. Colonel Rhett, the man who had captured Bonnet, was asked to take command of this new fleet, but he declined, owing to some difficulty he had had with Governor Johnson. Thereupon the governor himself declared he would be the admiral, to the great delight of Charles Town. Four ships, one of them being the captured _Royal James_, were armed with cannon, and a call was sent out for volunteers.

Nick and Antony, going home one night, read the governor's call posted on a wall. They went down to the harbor and saw the big ships ready to sail. "This looks like a chance to set myself right again," said Nick, slowly. "I wouldn't fight my old mates or Blackbeard; but I don't see any reason why I shouldn't help to clear the sea of Moody or any other rascal. I'm going to volunteer."

"The governor might want a boy on board," said Antony. "There are lots of things I can do about a ship."

That night he asked his father to let him volunteer, and though Jonas Evans and his wife were very loath to lose their son again, he finally won their permission. Their friends and neighbors were volunteering; there was no good reason why they should refuse to do their share.

Next day three hundred men and boys volunteered for the little navy of Charles Town. Then word came that Stede Bonnet and his companions when they had reached the bar had found that Moody was cruising northward that day, and so had put back and taken refuge on Sullivan's Island. Colonel Rhett, who was very angry at the escape of his captive, volunteered to lead a party to capture Bonnet again. A small party went in search, hunting the fugitives. The sand-hills, covered with a thick growth of stunted live-oaks and myrtles, offered splendid protection, and the hunt was difficult, but at last the men were sighted, shots were fired, Bonnet's comrade was killed, and the pirate chief himself was taken prisoner, and once more brought back to Charles Town by Colonel Rhett.

While this search and capture were going on Antony and Nick were busy on Governor Johnson's flag-ship, making ready to put to sea. Lookouts caught sight of the pirate Moody's vessels returning, sailing closer and closer in, actually coming inside the bar, as though they meant to attack the town itself. But inside the bar they stopped, and casting anchor, quietly rode there, while the sunset colored their sails, and men and women of Charles Town, on the quays and from the roofs and windows of their houses, watched them and wondered what might be the pirate's plans.

That night Governor Johnson, from his flag-ship, gave the order to the other ships of his small fleet to follow him, and they all slipped their moorings and stole down the harbor to the fort, and waited there.

At dawn next day the four ships from Charles Town, with their guns under cover and no signs of war about their decks, crossed the bar, heading toward the sea. The pirate supposed them to be peaceful merchantmen, and let them sail past him, and then had his ships close in on their track, in order to cut off their retreat. What he had often done before with merchantmen he did now; he ran up the black flag and called to the ships to surrender.

But Governor Johnson had planned to get his enemy into just this position. The pirate fleet now lay between his own ships and the town. He hoisted the royal ensign of England, threw open his ports, unmasked his guns, and poured a broadside of shot into the nearest pirate ship. Antony, from the deck of the flag-ship, could see the sudden surprise and alarm on the faces of the pirate crew.

The pirate chief was a clever skipper, however. By wonderful navigating he sailed his ship straight for the open sea, and actually managed to get past Governor Johnson. The latter followed in swift pursuit, and as the ships were now somewhat scattered, the flag-ship signaled the _Sea Nymph_ and the _Royal James_ to look out for the pirate sloop.

Soon these ships and the sloop were close together, yard-arm to yard-arm, and a desperate fight under way. The men of Charles Town fought well; they drove the pirates from their guns, they swarmed aboard the pirate ship, and killed the pirates who resisted them. Most of the pirates fought to the last inch of deck-room, refusing to surrender. A few took refuge in the hold, and threw up their hands when the enemy surrounded them. Then the crews of the _Sea Nymph_ and the _Royal James_ sailed the captured sloop back to the harbor, where the men and women who had been listening to the guns cheered wildly.

In the meantime the governor's flag-ship was chasing the pirate flag-ship. Antony and another boy stood near Johnson, ready to run his errands whenever needed; Nick was of the crew that manned one of the forward cannon. It was a long stern chase, but Johnson slowly drew up on the other. The buccaneers threw their small boats and even their guns overboard in an attempt to lighten their ship, but the ship from Charles Town was the faster, and at length overhauled the rover. A few broadsides of shot, and the black flag came fluttering down from the masthead; the governor and part of his crew went on board and the pirates surrendered.

Antony, dogging the governor's steps, was by him when the hatches were lifted; to his great astonishment he saw that the hold was filled with frightened women. The governor turned to the captured rover captain. "What does this mean?" he demanded, pointing to the women, who were now climbing to the deck with the help of the Charles Town crew.

"When we captured this ship," said the rover, "we found she was the _Eagle_, bound from England to Virginia, carrying convicts and indentured servants. We'd have set them ashore at the first good chance."

It was true. There were thirty-six women on board, sailing from England to find husbands and homes in the new world. The pirates had changed the name of the ship, and taken her for their own use, but had had no chance to land the women safely.

The governor had another surprise that day. He found that the captain of this fleet of pirates was not Moody, as all Charles Town had supposed, but an even more dreaded buccaneer, Richard Worley. This Richard Worley had been on board the sloop, and had been killed in the fierce fighting on her deck that morning.

Antony and Nick were of the crew that brought the captured _Eagle_, with her cargo of women, back to shore. There kind-hearted people of Charles Town took care of the frightened passengers. In the town that night there was great rejoicing over the defeat of two of the rovers who infested that part of the seas, Stede Bonnet and Richard Worley. It was true that Blackbeard and Moody were still at large, but it might well be that the fate of their fellows would prove a warning to them that the people of Charles Town meant business. Governor Johnson and his crews went back to their regular business, and the town grew quiet again.

Neither Moody nor Blackbeard again troubled the good people there. Weeks later it was learned that Moody had heard how Charles Town was prepared for him, and that he had gone to Jamaica, and there taken the "King's pardon," which was granted to all pirates who would give up their lawless trade before the following first of January. Afterward word came that Blackbeard had been captured by a fleet sent out by Governor Spotswood of Virginia, and commanded by officers of the Royal British Navy.

Stede Bonnet's crew had already been tried and found guilty of piracy. The judges had now to consider the case of that buccaneer chief himself. Every one in Charles Town knew that he had sailed the seas time and again with the "Jolly Roger" at his masthead, but he was a man of very attractive appearance and manners, and many of the good people of the town thought that he really meant to repent and lead a better life. The judges and jury, however, with Bonnet's past record before them, saw only the plain duty of dealing with him as they had already dealt with his crew. Then Colonel Rhett, the gallant soldier who had twice captured Bonnet, came forward and offered to take the pirate personally to London, and ask the king to pardon him. The governor felt that he could not consent to this request; he knew how Bonnet had taken the oath of repentance once before, and had immediately run up the "Jolly Roger" on his ship at the first chance he found. Bonnet was a pirate, caught in the very act. The law was very clear. So Bonnet was hanged, as were the forty other prisoners who had been found guilty.

Nick stayed with Antony at Mr. Evans's warehouse until the excitement of the war with the pirates had blown over. He and Antony were almost inseparable, and the people who met the slim, dark fellow liked him for his good-nature and ready smile. Whenever they found the chance Antony and he went sailing or hunting or fishing.

"Tony," he said one day as they sailed back from fishing, "I'm going to leave the warehouse. No, don't look put out; I'm not going back to my old way of living. Besides, there aren't any of the rovers left for me to join. But I was made for the open air, and the work there in the shop can't hold me. The governor wants soldiers for his province of South Carolina, and I've a notion the life of a soldier would suit me. I take naturally to swords and pistols."

Antony smiled. "You'll make a good one, Nick. I shouldn't wonder if you got to be a general. Yes, you'll like it better. But Dad and I'll hate to have you go."

So, a few days later, Nicholas Carter, who had once been one of Blackbeard's crew, offered his services to Governor Johnson and became a soldier in the small army of the province. He did well, and rose to be a colonel, and one of the most popular men of Charles Town. But sometimes, when he and Antony Evans were alone together, Colonel Nicholas Carter would wink and say, "Remember the day when you and I sailed away on Blackbeard's ship? Yeo ho, for the life of a pirate!"

"The day you kidnapped me, you mean," Antony would remind him. "That was a wonderful holiday, to be sure!"

For respectable men turned pirates, and pirates reformed and became worthy citizens and soldiers, in the days before the little settlement of Charles Town became the city of Charleston in one of the thirteen states of the American Union.

IX

THE FOUNDER OF GEORGIA

(_Georgia, 1732_)

I

There was a man in England in the first half of the eighteenth century who became so impressed by the misfortunes of men thrown into prison for debt that he resolved to do what he could to help them. The man was James Oglethorpe, and the result of his resolve was the founding of the colony of Georgia, which in time became one of the original thirteen colonies of the United States.

To owe money was regarded as a most serious crime in England in those days, at least four thousand men were sent to prison every year for inability to pay their debts, and many of these debtors spent their lives in jail, since it was next to impossible for them to secure any money while they were imprisoned. The prisons, moreover, were vile dens of pestilence, where smallpox often raged, jailers treated their prisoners barbarously, and the man who had stolen a few shillings was kept in the same pen with the worst of pirates and murderers. A man named Castell, an architect and writer, was arrested for debt, and thrown into a prison where smallpox was rife. In spite of his protests he was kept there, and caught the disease and died. James Oglethorpe knew Castell, and the story of the architect's imprisonment roused Oglethorpe to action in aid of others who might be similarly treated.

Oglethorpe was a man of influence in England. He had studied at Oxford, served in the army, and was a member of Parliament. He had a committee appointed to investigate the prisons, and, acting as its chairman, he unearthed so many cases of barbarities and showed that so many of the jailers were inhuman wretches that Parliament interfered and righted at least a few of the most crying wrongs. But his plans went farther than that; he wanted to give men who had the misfortune to be in debt a chance to start new lives, not simply to stay in jail with no chance to better their condition, and to this end he looked across the ocean to the great, unsettled continent of America, and planned his new home for debtors there.

Oglethorpe succeeded in interesting some of the most prominent men of England in his plan, and on June 9, 1732, King George II granted them a charter for a province to be called Georgia, which was to consist of the country between the Savannah and the Altamaha Rivers and to extend from the headsprings of these rivers due west to the Pacific Ocean. The seal of the patrons of the new province bore on one side a group of silkworms at work, with the motto, "_Non sibi, sed aliis_,"--"Not for themselves, but for others,"--showing the purpose of the patrons, who had agreed not to accept any grant of lands or profit from them for themselves. On the other side of the seal were two figures representing the boundary rivers, and between them a figure of Georgia, a liberty cap on her head, a spear in one hand, a horn of plenty in the other. Some of the patrons were content with the lofty ideals expressed in the seal and the charter, but James Oglethorpe meant to see the noble project carried out.

With a commission to act as Colonial Governor of Georgia, Oglethorpe sailed with about one hundred and twenty emigrants for America in November, 1732. In fifty-seven days he reached the bar outside Charleston. There the colonists of South Carolina welcomed the new arrivals warmly, for they were glad to have a province to their south to shield them from their Spanish enemies. The governor ordered his pilot to conduct the ship to Port Royal, some eighty miles to the south, from whence the emigrants were to go in small boats to the Savannah River. Oglethorpe meanwhile went to the town of Beaufort and then sailed up the Savannah to choose a promising site for his new town. The high cliff known as Yamacraw Bluff caught his eye, and he chose for his site that high land on which the city of Savannah stands.

Half a mile away dwelt the Indian tribe of the Yamacraws, and their chief, Tomochichi, sought the white leader and made gifts to him. One gift was a buffalo skin, painted on the inside with the head and feathers of an eagle. "Here is a little present," said the chief, offering the skin. "The feathers of the eagle are soft, and signify love; the buffalo skin is warm, and is the emblem of protection. Therefore love and protect our little families." We may be sure that Oglethorpe promised to live in friendship with them.

On February 12th the colonists reached their new home, and camped on the edge of the river, glad to escape from their long stay on shipboard. Four tents were set up, and men cut trees to provide bowers for their immediate needs. Four pines sheltered the tent of Oglethorpe, and here he lived for a year, while men laid out streets and built houses and his city of Savannah began to take shape.

Much good counsel the leader gave his people in those first days, warning them often against the drinking of rum, which would not only harm themselves, but would corrupt their Indian neighbors. "It is my hope," said he, "that, through your good example, the settlement of Georgia may prove a blessing and not a curse to the native inhabitants."

It was a lovely country, and the emigrants, harassed by debts and misfortunes in Europe, were delighted with the groves of live-oak, bay, cypress, sweet-gum, and myrtle, and the many flowers that grew profusely in the wilderness. While they worked gladly in their new fields Oglethorpe, knowing their security depended in part on their neighbors, did his best to make friends of the red men. He invited the chiefs of the Muskohgees to make an alliance with him, and they came down the river and through the woods to his tent. Long King, chief of the Oconas, spoke for the others. "The Great Spirit, who dwells everywhere around, and gives breath to all men," said he, "sends the English to instruct us." He bade the strangers welcome to the land that his tribe did not use, and as token of friendship, laid eight bundles of buckskins at Oglethorpe's feet. "Tomochichi," he said, "though banished from his nation, has yet been a great warrior; and, for his wisdom and courage, the exiles chose him their king." Then Tomochichi expressed his friendship for the white men. The chief of Coweta rose and said, "We are come twenty-five days' journey to see you. I was never willing to go down to Charleston, lest I should die on the way; but when I heard you were come, and that you are good men, I came down, that I might hear good things." A treaty of peace was then signed, by which the English claimed title over the land of the Creeks as far as the St. Johns River, and the chiefs departed with many presents.

Later a Cherokee came to the settlement. "Fear nothing," said Oglethorpe, "but speak freely." The red man from the mountains answered proudly, "I always speak freely. Why should I fear? I am now among friends; I never feared even among my enemies." Friends were then made of the Cherokees.

In July Red Shoes, a Choctaw chief, arrived to make a treaty. "We came a great way," said he, "and we are a great nation. The French are building forts about us, against our liking. We have long traded with them, but they are poor in goods; we desire that a trade may be opened between us and you."

Other people than the poor debtors of England soon came to the province. The Archbishop of Salzburg by his cruel persecutions drove scores of Lutherans from his country, and many of these prepared to cross the ocean to the new settlement on the Savannah River. They traveled from their Salzburg home through part of Germany, past cities that were closed against them, through country districts where they were made welcome. From Rotterdam they sailed to Dover, and from there set forth in January, 1734, for their new home in the land across the Atlantic. The sea was a strange experience to the Lutheran families of Salzburg; when it was calm they delighted in its beauty, when it was swept by storms they prayed and sang the songs of their faith. They reached the port of Charleston on March 18, 1734, and Oglethorpe welcomed them there, not forgetting to have supplies of fresh provisions and vegetables from his Georgia gardens for the people who had been so long without them.

A few days later the colonists from Salzburg sailed up the Savannah River and were met by the earlier colonists. A feast of welcome had been prepared. Then Governor Oglethorpe gave the strangers permission to select their home in any part of the province. The country was most of it still an untraversed wilderness, and so Oglethorpe supplied horses and traveled with his new colonists. With the aid of Indian guides they made their way through morasses, they camped at night around fires in the primeval forest. At last they reached a green valley, watered by several brooks, and this they chose for their settlement and named it Ebenezer in thankfulness to their God for having brought them safely through great dangers into a land of rest. Oglethorpe had his own carpenters help them build their houses and aided them in planning their new town.

That the land about Ebenezer was very fruitful is shown by a letter written by the pastor of the Lutheran colonists. Said he, "Some time ago I wrote to an honored friend in Europe that the land in this country, if well managed and labored, brings forth by the blessing of God not only one hundredfold, but one thousandfold, and I this day was confirmed therein. A woman having two years ago picked out of Indian corn no more than three grains of rye, and planting them at Ebenezer, one of the grains produced an hundred and seventy stalks and ears, and the three grains yielded to her a bag of corn as large as a coat pocket--the grains whereof were good and full grown, and she desired me to send part of them to a kind benefactor in Europe."