Revenge of an Englishman Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1 - The Beginning

  Chapter 2 –My Captors

  Chapter 3 - Shaka Zulu

  Chapter 4 - Francis Farewell

  Chapter 5 – Plymouth City

  Chapter 6 – The Stagecoach

  Chapter 7 - The Ghost

  Chapter 8 – Bath

  Chapter 9 - Aunt Tilney

  Chapter 10 - The Ball

  Chapter 11 - Journey to London

  Chapter 12 - Day One

  Chapter 13 - The Heart of Darkness

  Chapter 14 - Dinner with the Campbell's

  Chapter 15 - My Oldest Rival & Dearest Enemy

  Chapter 16 - Rearranging the Chessboard

  Chapter 17 - Theatre Royal

  Chapter 18 - The Interlude

  Chapter 19 - Mrs. Cromwell

  Chapter 20 - The Pact

  Chapter 21 - The Banquet

  Chapter 22 - The Foot Soldiers of Birmingham

  Chapter 23 - The Death of Edward

  Chapter 24 - London City

  Chapter 25 - The Torment of Mr. Cromwell

  Chapter 26 - The Portrait of Two Friends

  Chapter 27 - Loose Ends

  Chapter 28 - Sowing and Reaping

  Chapter 1 - The Beginning

  The sun had set in the sky by the time I regained consciousness. I lay on the sandy floor of a beach, on my side, and focused on my breathing. I breathed through my nose and I could feel the heavy beating of my heart as my chest expanded and deflated. The smell of salt-water and seaweed filled my nostrils, and their sour taste was in my mouth. If I did not detest those odious smells then I think I could have stayed in the position I was in all night.

  "Get up," I thought to myself. My brain was sending signals to my body, but my arms and legs refused to obey. I was exhausted and my limbs felt numb.

  For the next several hours I remained in the same position on the sandy ground and I slipped in and out of consciousness throughout that time. When dawn finally broke and I could hear the squawking of birds, I finally succeeded in raising myself to an upright standing position. However, even those slight physical movements were strenuous to me and I heaved out a sigh in pain.

  My heart pumped fast and I could feel the blood quickly swirling around my body. My beating pulse resonated throughout my entire body. My lips were cracked and my head was dizzy from dehydration. The only water that had been available to me for days was the salt-water of the ocean that would have undoubtedly secured my demise.

  As I looked around, taking in my surroundings with the help of dawn's light, I found myself on a sandy beach that had some areas of it littered with pebbles and larger rocks. Past the beach, going inwards from the coast, I could see shrubbery and trees. There were no signs of human life, other than me. I thought long and hard about where I was, but I did not know my current location.

  Again I resorted to talking to myself as I was all the company that I had, “Where on God’s green earth is this?”

  Three days previous to this point in time, I was on a well-crafted and expensive ship racing over the waves of the Alboran Sea with my friends. It was not a commercial or military ship, but instead a privately owned one. The vessel's ownership was shared between four people, me and my three friends. The ship had only been purchased six months ago for a specific purpose and this had been its maiden voyage. Therefore I found it difficult to come to terms with the change in my circumstances.

  After many days on the open sea with my comrades, and with more than half of our journey completed until reached our destination, my three friends tricked me with alcohol or drugs, for I do not know which they used against me, and they assaulted me and threw me overboard into the cold water to die. For two days I had to swim and swim and let the waves carry me towards an outline of land that I saw on the horizon. Whether it was out of greed that made them decide to abandon me or if I had offended them in some way to warrant the assault, I do not honestly know. Regardless of the cause, they wanted me dead and they forcibly relinquished my share of the vessel and therefore my share of the reward that we all sought.

  The reward that I speak of was a buried treasure that we believed we had pin-pointed through our calculations and careful study. We were unaware of its true value, but we accepted the premise that if the treasure was valuable enough to hide one-hundred years ago, then the prestige of the treasure alone would be enough to cover the cost of the vessel and make us all wealthy individuals. Although many people before us had tried to find the treasure, we believed that we would succeed where the others had failed. I had done the vast majority of the calculations and research, therefore I was positive that I had pin-pointed the exact location of the buried treasure.

  On the fifth of May, in the year eighteen twenty-one, several days after my twenty-eighth birthday, we set sail from the port of Dover in England on our voyage. The four of us each had our roles and expertise, and we were certain that the hidden treasure that had evaded so many others before us would easily be obtained by our combined superior knowledge. The treasure that we went seeking was buried pirate treasure which we were certain was buried on the Seychelles island of Mahé, in the Indian Ocean. The pirate who had buried it there was a man named Levasseur, and on the day of his execution, he threw a scroll into the crowd of bystanders who were there to watch the public execution. Knowing that some of his crewmen from his ship were present at the execution, the pirate, Levasseur, threw the scroll into the crowd as it was said to contain clues to where his treasure was hidden. The scroll was written in a cryptic code so that only his crew would be able to decipher the message.

  I, William Underhill, being a scholar was able to track down the historic parchment in the British Museum in London, and along with another one of the party, was able to decipher it as best I could. My vast knowledge of many topics and my ability to speak several languages are some of the many traits that made me an ideal candidate for the adventure. The other three comrades in this adventure were trained naval officers who had recently come back from India where they fought in the Punjab War for the British East India Company. I had known those men, as I dare not call them gentlemen, for more than eight years and I had always found them to be men of high regard and reputation. I believed sincerely that the spoils of our endeavour would have been shared correctly, with each of us receiving a quarter of the total value. I held on to this belief until the moment they threw me overboard into the sea.

  My three partners in the voyage were called James, Edward and Charles. The relationship between James and I had always been a complicated one, we both attended the same prestigious school throughout our youths and then University. We were hostile friends who were always in competition with each other. While I came from an esteemed family with a well-regarded reputation and a sizeable portion of land in my name, James did not. Therefore he became an officer of the navy. It was when he was in the navy that he met Edward and Charles. All three of them were officers and had built up their reputations as sailors with discipline, talent and potential for great things. James introduced me to Edward and Charles eight years previous in quaint dwellings in Bath where we all visited one summer and where we all became the best of friends. I grew a bond with the three sailors and even prayed twice a day for their health and good fortune when they had been sent to the far-east to fight in the Punjab War. It was perhaps their time in India, at war, that turned these gentlemen into nothing more than cut-throat pirates that so easily tossed me overboard to my expected death so that they could receive more of the treasure themselves.

  However, standing alone on the unknown beach, Levasseur’s treasure seemed unimportant to me now. Survival was the only thing I cared about. Both my body and my mind screa
med for sustenance.

  After a few more minutes of studying my surroundings, I decided to leave the beach that I had been cast onto. Out at sea, on the horizon, I saw no passing ships so the thought of being rescued by another vessel seemed highly unlikely. I moved toward the foliage and shrubbery. If I was to find any salvation for my thirst and hunger then it would have to be inland.

  Upon my body, I wore very few clothes as I had cast away my heavy boots, jacket, hat and trousers while I was floating on the sea. The clothing that I had been wearing weighed me down like an anchor so for my survival it was imperative that I discarded them and let them float down to the very bottom of the sea. I now wore only a mere light-thinned cream woollen material that covered my torso and my legs as far as my knees. I had always worn the woollen material under my jacket for additional comfort and warmth, but now as it was all I was wearing it looked remarkably similar to the type of nightgowns that females would wear. My feet were bare and unprotected and as I walked inland from the beach my feet were pained by the resting stones on the ground and the sharp broken twigs that littered the floor.

  At Midday I rested. I sat on the grass and exhaled rapidly. Sweat ran down my face and I constantly rubbed my hands across my face to wipe the droplets away. In the hours that I had travelled, the terrain had not changed nor the prospects of survival. The foliage that I had wandered into from the beach only got thicker and darker, and trees got larger, denser and more overbearing. There was no fruit or edible plants, nor could I see any streams of fresh water.

  I prayed to God for salvation. I desperately needed help and I prayed to Him to send me an angel that could assist me and guide me to safety. I prayed and spoke kind words to God and all of his angels, and promised that if I was rescued I would give my family's fortune to the church and to the charities that did work in its name. However, there was no immediate response to my prayers. I, therefore, remained seated on the grass until the day's evening came and the sun's heat had lessened.

  For the hours that I stayed static, seated on the grass, I tried not to think about the hunger and thirst that I was experiencing. Instead, I passed the time by formulating plans. The plans revolved around how I would get my revenge on James, Charles and Edward. I considered going straight to the police to tell them about the heinous crime that had been committed by my three friends. I thought about harassing the three brutes in a church full of people during a Sunday Service and making them confess their sins in front of the priest and the entire congregation. Lastly, I thought about killing them. I'm ashamed to say that I spent most of the time, and received most enjoyment, thinking over how I would slowly torture and kill the three friends that had forsaken me. However, I knew that all of my plans were mere fantasy and would never manifest into reality while I was seated on a patch of grass in an unknown location.

  I stood up from the ground with a resurgence of energy.

  "Now is the time to be saved," I thought to myself, motivating myself further.

  Putting my right leg out first I began to walk but by the time my left foot touched the ground I was set upon by a mass group of naked black men. They were armed with weapons and each weapon was pointed directly at me.

  Chapter 2 – My Captors

  My hands were bound together by rope and my captives relentlessly pushed me onwards and instructed that I followed their orders. I was unable to comprehend what they were saying as they spoke in a foreign tongue, despite my scholarly upbringing and linguistic skills. However, their constant jabbing at my back seemed self-explanatory, they were in charge and I had to submit to them. In their right hands, they wielded large spears and they held large shields in their left, all the weapons were the same height as each of the captors that wielded them. Their faces were jet black, except for the whites in their eyes and their snarling teeth. Each time that I was able to get a glance at their faces I shuddered because they looked like the most ferocious and feral people I had ever seen.

  My initial opinion of these black barbarians was that they must have been runaway slaves who abandoned their owners and their clothes, but after a while, it occurred to me that perhaps I had stumbled into a place where black people were not owned, after all, I did not know what country, never mind what continent, that I was currently in. I hoped that this was not the case as everyone knew that black people were mentally inferior and I feared that I would be treated poorly by them if they were not under the rule of sensible masters. I had worked out the calculations briefly in my head throughout the trek and it was most probable that I was either on an island in the Mediterranean or on the African continent, but I knew that European colonies were present in both areas, so that gave me some hope.

  The heat of the sun was beginning to lessen by the time my captives lead me to their intended destination. A small camp made of tents was erected in a dusty plain and among the scattered tents was a large communal fire. The black barbarians that poked my back with their spears and fingers pushed me along towards the centre of the encampment and I feared that I was going to be burnt alive, but instead of directing me into the fire, they directed me to a large tent in the centre of the camp.

  Words were quickly exchanged between the black folk and then from inside the large tent, the leader of the camp came out. He was dressed in similar attire as my original captors had been. Armed with a large spear and shield, he wore a feather on his head and had fur covering his chest, waist and knees while the rest of his black-skinned body was exposed. He took a long look at me, from bottom to top, and then issued some orders. His tone sounded dismissive and his facial expressions didn't convey any emotions. However, once he had finished speaking my captors transported me again with another series of pushing and shoving to a new location.

  I was led to an empty tent and escorted inside it by two of the captors. Once I was inside, my hands were untied and then the two captors left me alone inside the tent. It was a small and cramped area, made from animal hide, but it offered me shade and protection from the sun. There was a small pillow-like cushion on the floor of the tent, which I assumed the barbarians laid on to sleep. Although I would have loved to sit on it and rest, I was much too afraid to. I remained standing in the tent for a long time as I had become immobilised by far.

  A considerable amount of time passed and I was still left alone, undisturbed, in the tent. With only my body and my thoughts for company, my thirst and hunger soon returned. My head felt light-headed and dizzy from the lack of substance in my body and my mouth involuntarily hung open as a result of dehydration and the hot climate. I pondered over how long I would be kept in this tent, if I would be killed or if I would be released. Whatever my fate was to be, I prayed it would happen quickly as my body was feeling the torment of starvation.

  When night came, and everything was dark, some company arrived. A black man, who was around sixteen years of age, entered into the tent and he was accompanied by two of my earlier captors.

  "Do you understand me?" he asked me in Dutch.

  "Yes," I replied, also speaking Dutch.

  "You are Dutch?” the black boy said following up his previous question.

  "No," I answered honestly.

  "You are French?" the young boy then enquired.

  "No, I am from England," I responded, “I am an Englishman.”

  "You come from England but you speak Dutch?" the black boy gave me a quizzical look.

  "I can talk Dutch well because I learned it in school," I said.

  "You are a soldier?"

  "No," I simply stated.

  "Then why are you here?"

  "I was on a boat and I was tossed overboard and I washed ashore here. When I arrived on shore, I began walking around in search of food and rescue. Then your people found me and brought me here," I answered honestly.

  The question and answer process between the black boy and I was going well until I mentioned the boat and being thrown overboard. These were terms he was unfamiliar with. He looked at me quizzically until I re-worded the
statement. I simply said that the ship I was on broke and I had to swim to the shore.

  "Where is here?" I then asked the black boy, wanting to take advantage of his moment of silence to comprehend my statement.

  "We will bring you some food and water, and then allow you to rest in this tent for the night. Then our conversation will continue tomorrow," he then nodded at me and left the tent.

  His response did not address my question, but I was still content with the words he spoke and the outcome. No sooner than five minutes after the black boy and the armed captors left me in the tent, the food and drink that had been promised to me had arrived. The drink was water and the food was cooked meat of some kind. Despite its lack of presentation, quality and taste, I still ate the entire contents of the meal and I immediately felt its positive effects on my worn-out body.

  Knowing that I had the tent to myself for the night I sat on the makeshift bed that the savages had left in the tent and although it was not comfortable it was a great deal more preferable than the hard ground. As I prepared for sleep, I said a quick prayer to God, hoping that he would watch over me and protect me from the feral and uncivilised niggers that had captured me and I asked him to give me a speedy return back to England from wherever the hell I had been cast to. Within minutes of lying down, I fell asleep.