But it wasn’t that which concerned Linnet. Patsy was furtive. On the deck one morning, Linnet sent Patsy to fetch her shawl. She awaited the girl’s return, chatting with John and Duncan. After a long while, and feeling chilly by now, Linnet decided to go and see where Patsy had got to. As she went to the steps leading down to their cabins, she espied the ex-cabin boy coming up from the other side of the ship. Linnet waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. Patsy was startled when she saw Linnet. Flushing a deep, cherry red, she couldn’t look Linnet in the eye. She claimed that she had been unable to find the shawl. Linnet asked her where she had really been, but Patsy insisted she’d been nowhere. Linnet knew she was up to something, especially when she entered her cabin and found the shawl lying in full view across the bed.
Every Sunday, Captain Pettigrew held a service for all aboard his ship. John stood with the officers up on the poop deck and, on this occasion, Patsy joined Linnet. Prayers were said and an officer—a different one was chosen each week—read an extract from the Bible. This week, however, the captain had asked John whether he would like to read. Linnet watched happily as her handsome husband stood tall and proud next to the captain. The slight breeze lifted his dark hair. The shiny brass buttons of his great coat glinted and flashed in the bright sunshine. He began the reading. “The text today is taken from the New Testament, James, chapter three, verses four to six. ‘Behold also the ships, which though they be so great and are driven by fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm…’” There was a sudden shout from below. John stopped reading and looked up, a finger marking his page.
A man gestured wildly towards starboard and sailors began to run to the ship’s side, gesturing and looking out to sea. More men scrambled up ropes and stood upon one another’s shoulders in order to obtain a better view, there was much shouting and clamouring. Captain Pettigrew bellowed for the telescope to be brought to him. He turned the telescope toward the direction in which the sailors were pointing excitedly.
“What is it?” Linnet asked but no one answered her.
The officers started making their way to the captain’s side. Suddenly, a yell came from the captain, “Muster battle stations! Man the cannon!”
All around them, chaos broke out, men dashed to and fro. Linnet and Patsy clung together, terrified. Linnet was searching amongst the mêlée, frantically looking for sight of her husband. Where had John got to? The next moment, it seemed to her, the floor under her feet gave way; this was followed by a huge explosion. She was thrown sideways where she lay in a stupefied daze. She could not make sense of what was happening around her. After what seemed like an age, but was in fact only a moment or so, strong arms lifted her and John’s face framed her view.
“My God, I thought I’d lost you!” he cried, sweeping her up into his embrace. “When I saw that cannon ball hit the deck, I was beside myself. Come!” he yelled over the noise and confusion. “We have to get down below deck.”
He turned, ducking and diving, while men, ropes, broken decking and thick smoke all hindered his progress. Where had the smoke come from? she wondered, shocked by this frightening turn of events. She kept asking John over and over what was going on and what had happened to Patsy. Had he seen her?
He pressed onward, trying to find somewhere away from the chaos and confusion that surrounded them. Eventually, they stumbled down the steps that led to their cabin. John shoved open their door and they tumbled inside.
They stood holding one another and listening to the dreadful sounds coming from above them. Awful screams and yells accompanied the sudden and shocking pounding of a ship’s cannon. Then it dawned on them: they could hear guns from another ship.
“We are under attack,” John stated heavily.
Linnet’s eyes widened with shock. She bit her lip to stop it trembling, she was afraid. “Who would want to attack us, John, the French? The one you spoke of to my father? Why would they attack an English ship? We are not at war with the French at present, perhaps they haven’t heard that the war is at an end,” she babbled with fear.
John hugged her briefly then set her aside. He spoke rapidly over his shoulder as he strode to the chests. Lifting the lids, he rummaged inside, scattering clothes as he hunted frantically within. “They probably are French; I cannot tell as yet. Their privateers are still attacking merchant vessels, as are the English privateers. We must hide as much of our valuables on our persons as we can, Linnet. Find your jewellery and put as many of the good pieces as you can into your underclothes, wedge them in tightly. I have a money belt here for the paper. Quickly!” he snapped. He felt sorry to sound so harsh but he wished to rouse his wife from the stupor of her innate terror.
She wrung her hands in panic. “Linnet!” John’s voice penetrated her frozen brain, propelling her to the wooden chest. Pulling her jewellery cask out, she lifted the lid and selected the finest pieces, emeralds and pearls, a diamond ring with matching bracelet and ear bobs.
John turned to her and removed a chain and locket.
“No, my dear, we have to leave the rest; otherwise, when the pirates search, they will know we have taken all the best pieces and search us.”
Linnet put the rest back in the casket. “You think they will board us then?” she whispered, trying to keep calm.
“Undoubtedly, and I’m afraid our guns will be no match for theirs. Put on another layer of clothing, but try to conceal the fact that you are wearing two sets of clothes.”
So saying, John began to pull on more clothes over his present outfit. Linnet did as she was bid, thankfully without question, for once. Finally, he stepped back and looked her over critically.
“Hmm, your neckline isn’t right.” He reached out and undid the buttons of her gown about her neck then, turning up her lace collar so that the dress beneath was hidden, he re-buttoned her. “No one would know, I think, you still appear trim even wearing two sets of clothing. Now for your warm cloak…”
The ship tipped suddenly and Linnet stumbled. John caught her and held her close. “They are boarding, that is why the ship dipped. They have grappling irons and have placed boarding planks from across their ship to ours,” he explained.
Linnet pulled herself from his arms and ran over to lock their cabin door. When she returned, her eyes were wide with fear. “Oh God, John… what are we to do?”
John sighed and shrugged, resigned. “We wait. There is nothing more we can do.”
Linnet dropped into a chair and gripped the arms. “Will they kill us, do you think?” she asked tremulously.
John looked at his beautiful young wife; so young, only eighteen, with almost no life experience. She had no idea that her fate could possibly be worse than death. He knew for a fact that young women caught by French pirates were often shared among the crew. “I am sure that they will not harm us.” He spoke with a confidence he didn’t feel. If he had to, he would kill her rather than watch her suffer. He fingered the small pistol hidden in his coat pocket. Linnet relaxed slightly, believing and trusting in her husband.
The noise above was harrowing. Linnet covered her ears then jumped, startled by a particularly loud bang. The two of them remained there, silent and tense, waiting for what seemed an eternity. They listened to the dreadful sound of battle and the death cries of men, the ear-splitting shriek of tearing wood as the guns found their mark. All they could do was listen and wait for the appalling noise to cease. Neither spoke of the friends they had made who were now fighting for their lives. Each prayed quietly for their safe deliverance. The sounds above began to sound less frenetic and the pounding of the guns ceased. There were a few isolated screams, then the sound of pounding feet overhead.
The minutes ticked slowly by, and when finally there came a pounding upon their cabin door, they both started with shock. Standing beside her, both facing the door, John placed his arm protectively about his trembling wife. He knew how little protection he would actually be able to afford her against the rabble.
The
door suddenly crashed inwards and two men, bare-chested and smeared with blood, pushed their way into the cabin. Linnet screamed and turned her face into her husband’s shoulder. It was only a second of comfort before she was wrenched away by rough hands that dug into the tender flesh of her upper arms as the pirates manhandled them both up onto the deck.
The scene that met their eyes was one of almost total devastation, the broken and blood-stained bodies of sailors lay everywhere. Mutilated remains lay where they had fallen, hideous wounds and unseeing eyes stared blindly at the sky. Even in her worst nightmares, Linnet could not imagine such horror. Her eyes were drawn to a small group of figures hanging in a line from the main mast, swaying heavily in the sea breeze. A slow dawning, realisation of what she was looking at suddenly hit hard and she spun quickly around, doubling over as she was violently sick. When she was done, the pirate holding her punched her hard in the small of her back, disgust written across his face. The sudden shock of the impact knocked Linnet to her knees. Through a haze of pain, she heard two shouts, one she distinguished as John’s, cut-off mid-yell; the other she recognised as Patsy’s.
Gentle hands smoothed back her hair and helped her to rise, and she turned towards the kindly person. “Patsy? Is it you? Oh, thank God, I thought you dead… John, John! What have they done with him?” Linnet twisted around to look for her husband. He lay slumped upon the deck, he wasn’t moving. “Oh God, they have killed him!”
She dropped to her knees beside him and placed her hand over his heart. To her relief, she could feel the steady beat. Stroking his dark hair back from his forehead, she bent her head and pressed her lips to his temple. She realised she was shivering violently, trembling as if she suffered a fever, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She was finding it hard to gather her wits.
Patsy stood beside her and she yelled across at someone close by, “‘Ere, you promised me these two wouldn’t be ’urt, an ’ere they are, all bashed about!”
“Merde, cherie, zees is war an’ zere are casualties! What I said was I would not ’ave ’em keeled!” A large pirate stepped into Linnet’s line of vision. She attempted to focus on him but found it hard to control the dizziness that threatened to overcome her. She saw he wore a red and white sailor’s cap which flopped jauntily to one side and, like the other pirates, he wore no shirt. His arms and chest were covered in tattoos. He had on dark blue breeches that ended at the knees; below these he wore dirty, striped red and white stockings.
“Patsy?” Linnet croaked. “I don’t understand… do you know this-this person?”
The pirate gave a coarse bellow of laughter. “Ah, oui! Ze madamoiselle knows me verra well! Do you not, ma petite choux?”
“Stop it, Henri!” Patsy said and turned to Linnet, a pleading look on her face. She reached down to where Linnet crouched over John and took hold of Linnet’s hand. “It was after I fell into the sea, missus, I met Henri below deck. I was crying, and he was very kind to me. Well, we fell in love, we did. Don’t be mad at me, missus—Linnet. I didn’t want no one hurt, he promised me that you, Mr. Foster and Mr. Duncan would go free. Them’s plan was all set up anyways so there was nuffin’ I could do to stop it.”
Linnet jerked her hand away from Patsy’s. “You helped him? You knew that a pirate was aboard this ship and said nothing?” Linnet was incredulous; Patsy flushed and hung her head.
The pirate strode forward and spoke to Linnet. “Ma femme! Of course elle would not betray me! Elle knew I would cut her preety throat if she did zuch a zing! Mais, I will keep ma word; you will go free!”
Linnet stared into the heavily lidded, dark brown eyes and unshaven face. A livid scar ran down one cheek. “It was you in the luggage hold.” She said it as a statement, for she knew his answer.”
“Mais oui, madam. Also, I had zee pleasure, non, zee verry great pleasure, to watch your lovely self and your ’usband, in zee moonlight one night, being so very romantic, hmm?”
Linnet looked at him with horror. “You were spying on us?”
The pirate gave a lascivious laugh, revealing a few missing teeth as he did so. “Oui, madam, certainement! I compliment vous, vous ete tres belle, madam!”
He continued to chuckle while Linnet closed her eyes briefly, willing herself not to swoon.
“What are you going to do with us?” she asked in a low voice.
The pirate, Henri, looked serious. “I keep ma word, petite. Vous et votre marie… alle!” So saying he turned and raised his arm, signalling to two of his men.
Then a pirate ran forward, talking in French to his leader. She saw that he held her jewellery casket. The man opened it and showed the contents to Henri, whereupon the large pirate scooped out the valuables and handed them all to Patsy. The girl stood there, her hands cupped, holding more wealth than she had ever seen in her whole life before, her mouth hung open like a fish.
Linnet was livid. “How dare you! Those belong to me, you nasty little thief!”
The French pirate’s heavy brows lowered, and he snarled at Linnet. “Merde! You are verra lucky, madam, zat your jewels are all zat we take, you understand ma meaning, I am sure. Maintenant, ferme la bouche!”
He gave a typically Gallic gesture and turned away. Linnet had to know what had happened to Duncan. “Where is Duncan? Have you seen him?”
Patsy lowered her eyes as she replied, “Yes ’m. I’m real sorry, missus, but he were killed in the fight, a clean wound straight through his chest. I was with ’im when he died, comforting him was the least that I could do.”
Linnet pressed her hand to her mouth and bit down hard to stop herself from screaming. No, please, not Duncan! Not sweet, fresh-faced Duncan with a wife and baby daughters in Plymouth. How would they cope without him to support them?
The two ruffians who had fetched them up from the cabin were dragging John, still unconscious, over to the port side of the ship, that side remained relatively undamaged. They tied a rope around his body.
“What are they doing?” Linnet asked Patsy in a whisper, her heart beating jarringly in her chest as her mouth filled with fear. She stood and ran over to her inert husband.
Patsy followed Linnet, who was now pulling at his arm, trying in vain to get him away from the pirates. Patsy caught up with Linnet. “They is going to lower Mr. Foster ‘cos he’s not awake.”
Linnet frowned in puzzlement, asking, “Lower him where?”
Patsy shuffled uncomfortably. “Into the row boat,” she said.
“But you assured me that we would remain safe!” Linnet shrieked at her in rage.
Patsy paled and stumbled back. “I saved your life! If Henri ‘ad his way, you and your man would be dead now!”
Linnet lunged, her hand lifted to slap Patsy’s face, but a vice-like grip upon her raised arm prevented her from following through with her action. Her arm was twisted up painfully behind her back. She was frogmarched to the side of the ship, where John was already being lowered over the side. Linnet turned her head and spat at the pirate gripping her arms. “You traitorous bitch, I should have left you to drown!” she screamed at Patsy. Then, to her fury and shame, she burst into noisy, gasping sobs of misery and rage, the horror and the fear completely overwhelming her.
She found herself flung over the shoulder of a foul-smelling pirate, who made his way over the ship’s side, where he began the fearful descent to a small rowing boat bobbing about at the side of the ship. From her upside down position, Linnet could see John’s body slumped in the bottom of the boat. When the pirate carrying Linnet was at the bottom of the rope ladder, he swivelled his shoulder and dropped her down into the stern.
“Land is zat away,” he told her, jerking his thumb away from the ship. He gave Linnet a leering grin from under a greasy blond fringe, then shinned back up the rope ladder onto the ship.
Patsy’s voice floated down to her. “There is a flagon of water under the seat of the boat. Land is about twelve miles to port. I am sorry, truly. You was kind to me. Farewell, missus!”
/> Linnet slumped dejectedly on the seat of the boat, wondering what she should do next. She looked down at John. He appeared to be sleeping but Linnet knew that the blow to his head meant that he was unconscious. She tore off some of her second petticoat and dipped it into the sea, then lifted her husband’s head gently onto her lap where she tenderly mopped his wound. John groaned, and she called his name but there was no other response. She held his shoulders, the cool wet cloth laid across his forehead.
The boat bumped gently against the side of the ship but it was now beginning to float away from the side. Linnet noticed the oars on the floor of the boat; she would have to move John off her lap if she wanted to use them. Perhaps she should try to move the little boat away from the ship, just in case the pirates changed their minds about killing them. A vision of Captain Pettigrew and the ship’s officers hanging from the masts sprang unwanted into her mind. She hastily suppressed the images; she must not think about the things that she’d seen on the ship, not yet. Linnet knew that she had to remain calm; their lives were in her hands. If she moved the boat away, they might blow them out of the water with cannon fire. She was petrified about which decision to take. Glancing up the wooden side of the ship, she saw that nobody appeared to be watching them. She decided she would row; they had to get away from this ship of death. At least if they were to die, they would be alone together on high seas with only the Lord and fish for company.
She rebelled against the thought of death, for she—they—were too young to die! Awkwardly, she extracted the oars from under John’s prone body. First, she used an oar to push the boat away from the ship’s side, then she placed an oar on either side of the boat, slipping them into the rowlocks. Clutching one in each hand, she dipped the paddle ends into the sea and pulled back with all her might. One oar slipped from her grip and hastily she caught it, only just saving it from disappearing into the ocean depths. She took a deep breath and started again, eventually building up a rhythm: pull back and stroke, pull back and stroke. Sweat dripped down her face and between her breasts, yet she struggled onward.
Her Match, Her Mate, Her Master Page 13