I picked the main character's last name both for the relative similarity and as an inside-joke reference to my previous writing fandom (you will see what I mean), but beyond that, the choice has no deep significance.
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From the diary of Miss Charlotte Featherstone, April 26, 1719
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I have been completely remiss with my diary entries these past two weeks; and while the initial long lapse was the result of simple laziness, I have a supremely serious excuse for not having written anything in the past three days until today. In fact, had it not been for a few brave souls on board our ship, I would not be writing this at all.
As you may recall, dear diary, we set out onboard the Barbados Merchant from St John's on Antigua on March 30th, destined for New York, and with the weather generally being mild and favourable this time of year, we were expecting to reach it by now. The fact that we are about to do so tomorrow with nearly a week's delay has been due to the most extraordinary and dramatic circumstances I am going to relate here as best I can.
But first I must spare a few words for our fellow passengers, who I did not devote sufficient time to on earlier pages, sad as I was after parting with my dear parents in St John's, even as I looked forward to joining my betrothed Henry in New York. Those of us who have separate cabins of better quality, and were invited from the outset to dine with Captain Nicholls and his officers in the evenings, are eight in number; apart from my chaperone Miss Aylesbury and me, there are Mr Jenkins the parson and his wife, Mr Littleton the wine merchant, Mr Barnes the surgeon, all of whom sailed out of St John's with us, and Mr and Mrs Wayne who came aboard in New Plymouth two weeks ago. The first couple and the two gentlemen, I confess, aroused little interest in me, seeing how they were all a good deal older than myself and prone to rather tedious conversation (Mr Jenkins in particular tended to turn his speech into a series of sermons that grew progressively longer as he consumed his share of rum at the dinner table); so my attention of late was mostly taken, apart from the officers (one of whom, Lieutenant Harcourt, I confess, is young, fairly handsome and quite articulate – I pray Henry never sees this!), by the last two passengers of our small number, who I understood were a newlywed couple, which understanding has been reinforced by how they rarely leave their cabin except for dinner and late-night strolls on the quarterdeck, and if I am being completely honest, by their frequent revels of which I am aware by virtue of their cabin being next to ours, which Miss Aylesbury, regardless of their being known to be married, considers highly inappropriate.
Mrs Elizabeth Wayne is a young lady perhaps several years older than myself, of an extraordinary beauty, with silky golden hair and large and lustrous grey eyes, and a lovely colour on her cheeks. The only drawback to her beauty, if convention is to be followed, is that her skin is not as light as it would be had she not spent time in the Caribbean sun; as it happens, instead of the fashionable porcelain white it is more of a golden hue. It appears that she is the daughter of a colonial merchant, who having been recently married, is bound for New York with her husband who has business affairs there. She would have been incredibly popular with all the officers had she only deemed it possible to pay them any attention; as it is, her attention is reserved entirely and exclusively for her husband.
Now as for her husband Mr Christian Wayne, had he not introduced himself as a New York gem and spice trader, I would be certain that he was, or had been, a sea captain or even a Navy officer, what with his tall and graceful figure and his obvious knowledge of life at sea. Yet when Lieutenant Harcourt remarked on it, he explained it by the frequent need to undertake long voyages to find the best local vendors of spices and other exotic goods for purchase, and to personally accompany the particularly valuable shipments to ensure their safety and correct storage. He also explained that this latter role had required that he become fairly proficient with weapons such as swords, pistols and others not normally used by merchants, even though he appears to carry no such weapons on his person and apparently is not as proficient with the more elegant rapier, as he refused to stand against Lieutenant Harcourt in a round of practice.
That apart, his face has a most interesting aspect; while probably older than his wife, he is still young and, I daresay, extremely handsome, albeit in a manner that is more striking than genteel. His eyes I initially took to be light grey in colour, although I later perceived that it was more akin to light blue; his long aquiline nose and firm mouth would give him something of an intimidating air, except for when he is gazing at his wife, which happens frequently, when his entire appearance becomes one of the most suave charm and rapt attention. He appears to be a man of few words, although when he speaks, he does so eloquently; and his voice is both incredibly low and strangely thrilling. Unfortunately, neither he nor his wife, albeit for understandable reasons, seemed from the outset to have much desire to be in the company of others; they would enter the roundhouse shortly before dinner and would usually be the first to excuse themselves afterwards.
As I mentioned, we continued thus for the latter part of the voyage, with little variation in the daily routine due mostly to the weather; once or twice we met and hailed passing ships, and once we were put on alert when a pirate vessel was apparently spotted in the vicinity, but Captain Nicholls reassured us that evening that with the recent advances in the war against piracy made by His Excellency Governor Rogers of New Providence and his esteemed counterparts in the Carolinas and on Jamaica, what with the recent capture and execution of the notorious pirate leaders Captains Teach, Stede Bonnet, Vane, and Rackham, the seas have now become a much safer place.
For once Mr Wayne appeared to take a lively interest in the subject; as a merchant, he explained, it was extremely important to him to stay abreast of such developments, and he and his wife, whose family had apparently suffered gravely from pirate depredations, expressed great relief and satisfaction at hearing of this recent spate of hangings, even though I must confess, dear diary, that at times I find myself rather excited by the tales of these daring sea robbers.
And yet just as we were a mere 400 miles south of our destination, as per the captain's estimate, we were set upon at a treacherous hour, just after sunset and before dark, by the most notorious gang of pirates, led, as we subsequently discovered, by a certain Captain Worley. Their ship, which I was told was a brigantine, was lying concealed in the mouth of Delaware River waiting for prey, and as our ship happened to pass by they decided to strike. Obviously not content with launching a broadside from their cannons to intimidate us, which had as its only effect the redoubled efforts of our captain and crew to escape, they then decided to give chase.
It was at this moment that, having propped myself up against the partition wall which, as I am told, is called a bulkhead, separating our cabin from that of Mr & Mrs Wayne, I heard a brief but lively exchange between them that sounded akin to an argument, with Mr Wayne eager to go on deck and offer assistance to the captain and crew as an experienced seaman, and Mrs Wayne objecting due to grave worries for his safety. There would be nothing strange about hearing a discussion like this at such a desperate juncture, except that I could swear that rather than using their given names of Christian and Elizabeth, they referred to each other respectively as Charles and Eleanor, a fact that I still find rather strange unless they use these names as peculiar endearments or else agreed to travel under assumed identities, for which latter case I could not possibly discern the reason, unless, of course, instead of being married as they claimed, they have in reality eloped. But seeing how Miss Aylesbury was busy praying, I thought it best not to draw her attention to the matter; and upon reflection, I decided against ever divulging what I heard, for if they are indeed unmarried, seeing how much love they have for each other, it should not be my place to meddle with their happiness.
Having apparently convinced his wife, Mr Wayne presently went on deck, and I was subsequently told that thanks to the advice he offered the crew regarding the precise course to take evading the attackers within the bay, our ship would have succeeded in outrunning them had they not managed to accidentally damage our ship's rudder with a fortuitous (for them, that is) shot from one of their stern chasers. Deprived of its ability for precise manoeuvre, our ship ran into a sandbank and fell prey to their boarding attack (although, wary of repeating our fate, they had to use rowboats to mount it, which delayed it a great deal); not before, however, as I subsequently learned, Mr Wayne persuaded Captain Nicholls and the officers to barricade those whom he called civilian passengers, including all the women (his wife, Mrs Jenkins, Miss Aylesbury and myself), Mr Jenkins the parson, Mr Barnes the surgeon as a particularly valuable resource in case of casualties, and such valuables as we were carrying, in the hold, while the crew, the officers, Mr Littleton the wine merchant, and Mr Wayne himself made certain preparations, aided by the growing darkness, and then concealed themselves at various locations in anticipation of the boarding party.
I can only rely on the captain's account of subsequent events, seeing how the officers have been keen to divert our dinner conversation to other subjects ever since, apparently unwilling to remind us passengers of a sad experience; seeing also how Mr Littleton professes to have been in a state of too much confusion to remember much, and how Mr Wayne has instead insisted that all the credit lies with Captain Nicholls and, furthermore, that the motives that pushed _him_ to take an active role in our defence were entirely selfish, consisting as they did of ensuring the safety of his wife, the safety of the savings and valuables that they were apparently transporting to New York in a small chest among their belongings, and finally, his desire to ensure that the threat to ships in the area from worthless blackguards such as Capt. Worley (who, according to him, was not even much good as a pirate) remained a thing of the past. However, if the captain's version is to be believed, and I see no reasons to doubt its veracity, Mr Wayne was perhaps the single most important force in repelling the attack. The preparations he suggested prior to the boarding included sending men up the mainmast to judiciously sabotage the rigging and crosstrees; so that, as soon as the pirate boarding party set step on our deck, apparently unopposed by our crew, a great number of them were wounded and killed by falling timbers, and the rest were trapped by the fallen sails and shrouds, which they had not seen falling in the dark; as the officers (led by Lieutenant Harcourt) and the more intrepid of our crewmen set about restraining and fighting those of them who were still able-bodied, including their leader Captain Worley. A few of the more resilient ones escaped and went to scour the ship's cabins in search of valuables and hostages, only to be met, fought and apprehended one by one by the rest of our defenders, including Captain Nicholls and Mr Wayne, who were waiting for them at the hatches leading below deck.
All in all, what was shaping up to be a dreadful tragedy soon turned into an unfortunate yet passing incident, and while we had to spend the night in the hold as the men cleared the deck of debris and bodies and shipped off the wounded pirates and their vile captain onshore where they were to be taken into custody by the local militia, the following morning we were all able to resume our cabins and our daily routines, the only significant consequence being the delay in our arrival in New York due to the time needed to restore the rigging and hoist the sails. At the risk of sounding terribly irreverent, I daresay that I even observed the most pronounced positive effect on Mr Jenkins the parson, whose tendency to sermonise has been completely cured, or should I say disabled, by the experience; instead, for the most part, he now spends after-dinner conversation listening to others and periodically making the sign of the cross in complete silence.
And this, dear diary, concludes my thrilling account of the recent happenings; I can only add to this my bewilderment at Mr Wayne's hesitancy, upon being hailed a hero and a very able seaman, at the captain's suggestion to give him introductions to a number of Royal Navy officers among his acquaintance, so that he could obtain a letter of marque enabling him to hunt down pirates infesting colonial shores, a pursuit in which he undoubtedly could achieve great success. Instead his wife interposed to insist that the two of them were entirely resolved to maintain a sedate and orderly lifestyle upon their arrival in New York and wished nothing more than to avoid adventure on the high seas for the foreseeable future.
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PS What I particularly like about this bit is how it neatly brings our roving couple to Zach McGowan's birthplace ;)
And Capt Worley was a real pirate active between New Providence and the Eastern seaboard at that time, though he was captured and hanged in late Ferbuary rather than April.
Thanks again & take care