Returning thanks to Heaven that I was not a party sufferer with the
rest, I lay down, and for the first time for many weeks fell into a
sound sleep. How long I slept, I know not: it may have been days; but I
awoke at last by the sound of voices, and found that the people on board
of a vessel bound from Mexico to the South of Spain, perceiving the brig
lying with her sails torn, and her yards not trimmed, had sent a boat to
ascertain whether there was any body remaining in her. I was afraid
that if I told them what had happened, they either would not believe me,
or else would refuse to take on board a person who had been in company
with such examples of divine vengeance. I therefore stated that we had
been attacked by dysentery about six weeks before, and all had died
except myself, who was supercargo of the brig.
As their vessel was but half full, the cargo, consisting chiefly of
cochineal and copper, which is stowed in small space, the captain
offered to take as many of my goods as he could stow, provided I would
allow him the freight. This I willingly consented to, and examining the
manifest, selected the most valuable, which were removed to the Spanish
vessel.
We had a favourable wind; and having run through the Straits, expected
in a day or two we should anchor at Valencia, to which port she was
bound; but a violent gale came on from the N.E., which lasted many days,
and drove us over to the African shore. To increase our misfortunes,
the ship sprung a-leak, and made so much water that we could scarcely
keep her free.
The Spaniards are but indifferent sailors, your highness, and in a storm
are more inclined to pray than to work: they became frightened, gave
over pumping, and having lighted a candle before the image of St.
Antonio, which was fixed on the stern of the vessel, began to call upon
him for assistance. Not immediately obtaining their request, they took
the image out of the shrine, abused it, called it every vile name that
they could think of, and ended with tying it against the mainmast, and
beating it with ropes.
In the mean time the vessel filled more and more; whereas, if instead of
praying, they had continued at the pumps, we should have done well
enough, as the gale was abating, and she did not make so much water as
before.
Enraged at their cowardice, and at the idea of losing so much property
as I had on board (for I considered it as my own,) I seized the image
from the mast, and threw it overboard, telling them to go to their pumps
if they wished to be saved. The whole crew uttered a cry of horror, and
would have thrown me after the image, but I made my escape up the
rigging, from whence I dared not descend for many hours.
Having now no saint to appeal to, they once more applied to the pumps.
To their astonishment, the vessel made no more water, and in the course
of a few hours she was free.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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