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 Book 2
Copyright © 2023 Carolyn Delaney & Pinard House Publishing, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used
fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is
entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like
to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.

Cover Art By: Bookin’ It Designs

Copyediting: Amabel Daniels
 TAB L E O F CO NTE NTS
Copyright Page
Rebel Boss (Denver Billionaires, #2)
Denver Billionaires Series | Enemy Boss | Rebel Boss | Sinful Boss
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Epilogue
 Blurb:
Kiara
I do what I have to in order to provide for my son and me. If being paid to be the arm candy of
wealthy men helps keep a roof over our heads, I refuse to feel any sort of way about it.
Roman Silverstone is admittedly one of my favorite clients. His gorgeous smile and sexy beard
had me instantly attracted to him, even though we aren’t supposed to do anything physical with the
clients. But, he takes me to the most amazing dinners and has even introduced me to his family. I
always look forward to our dates when he’s on my schedule.
Except now he wants to see me outside of my job. It’s strictly forbidden, and I have bills to pay.
The problem is, my son is becoming attached and I’ve got no one to blame but myself for this
predicament I’ve put myself in.
Roman
Being one of the CEOs of Colorado’s largest brewing company is hard work, but marketing is my
specialty, and I’m killing it. I’m responsible for all new clientele and I love my job, even if my
cousins do give me crap for not wanting to wear a tie.
But my job requires me to attend a lot of social events. I don’t have time for romantic
entanglements or expectations from women who always seem to want more, so I’ve found it easier
just to hire a date for these things.
Kiara is my favorite of all the girls in Bella Manor. She's breathtakingly beautiful, sexy, well-
spoken, and looks great on my arm.
I’ve found myself wanting more from her, and her cute kid is growing on me, but she says she’s
risking too much by seeing me outside of work.
Well, she’s going to be quitting that job if I have anything to say about it, because Kiara is mine.
DE NVE R B IL L IO NAIRE S S E RIE S
E NE MY B O S S
RE B E L B O S S
S INF UL B O S S
 O NE
Kiara
I smile politely at the older gentleman as I climb into the pearly white Bentley. The driver, who looks
even older than my date, ushers me inside and then closes the door once I take a seat on the soft white
leather. A mixture of old-school cologne and something medicinal hits my nose. A flute of champagne
is offered to me and I take it with a practiced smile and a thank-you.
“I’m Marv,” my date says, introducing himself. Even though I already know all I need to about the
man. He’s a billionaire in his late sixties. A recent divorcee and father to two adult children, a
daughter and a son, who currently help him run his empire. He loves to golf and drink expensive
bourbon, which I see he’s holding a glass of in his hand.
I don’t drink—especially on dates—so I hold the flute on my lap and smile back at him. “I’m
Kiara.”
“I know,” he replies with a grin and then waggles his somewhat tamed gray eyebrows at me. “And
you’re absolutely beautiful.” He reaches over and takes my free hand, kissing the top.
“So, art gallery opening tonight, huh?” I ask, desperate to make small talk and get him to stop
smiling so lasciviously at me.
“Yep, my son’s gallery’s opening night. I’m so proud of him.” He beams a smile.
I smile genuinely now. I can definitely understand that pride. “I bet you are. I’m sure he’s worked
hard for all his accomplishments.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Sure has. I mean, with my help, of course.”
I swallow down the gag that wants to emerge from him admitting to his son’s hand-me-down
wealth and keep that practiced smile in place. “I can’t wait to see all the amazing art. I love art!”
Now, I may be blonde, but I’m not dumb, I’ve just mastered the art of the dumb blonde. I loathe
the stereotype but it makes me money and men eat it up.
“Then you’re in for a fabulous night, honey!” Marv squeezes my hand and I squeeze back.
A short time later, we pull up in front of an elaborate black and white building with large white
columns. The driver opens the door to the luxury vehicle, and he offers me a hand getting out.
Realizing I’m still holding the untouched champagne, I’m unsure what to do with it, so I hand it to the
driver with an apologetic smile. He smiles back and discreetly pours it out into the street behind his
back with a wink. I grin back at him as I loop my arm through Marv’s and enter the art gallery.
“Hello, Mr. Portsmouth,” a young woman in a conservative black and white dress greets as we
enter the art gallery.
Marv introduces me to the woman, whose name I’ve already forgotten, and I politely take the flute
of more bubbly alcohol she offers me with a tip of my head in thanks.
Marv takes a sip of his as we walk around the gallery. He points out certain artists’ work as if I
should care, and I of course make polite responses and smile in spots where I feel like I should.
Admittedly, one painting catches my eye. It appears to be a small child curled up in its mother’s
lap, swirling smears of blue and black surrounding the mother as if she’s shielding the child from the
dark. I glance at the caption and it reads Fierce Protector.
“Mr. Portsmouth.”
I turn my head to the familiar voice and see the infuriatingly handsome smirk of one of my favorite
clients, Roman Silverstone, standing there with a gorgeous blonde on his arm, shaking my date’s hand.
“Mr. Silverstone. How’s business, young man?” Marv asks.
“Better than ever,” he replies, smiling at Marv. He moves his gaze to me and winks. “And who is
this beautiful creature?”
Pu-lease. He knows who I am. Still, my practiced smile stays in place.
“This is Kiara,” Marv introduces.
I put my hand out. “Pleasure to meet you,” I say.
Roman lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “The pleasure is all mine.”
My back molars grind together at his fake pleasantry. Although, I have no reason to be annoyed, as
I’m no better.
“This is Janette,” Roman introduces.
I bite back a smile and nod in her direction as a greeting. She eyes me up and down, and then
glances at my date with what could only be described as a condescending smile.
“Do you like that painting?” Roman asks, pointing at it.
I look again and nod. “Yes, I love it. It’s beautiful,” I reply.
He smiles back and my stomach does a little flip. I’ve been out with Roman on a couple of
occasions—business occasions, of course. He’s admittedly my favorite client, but I don’t really get
much choice on who I get paired with. But when we’re out with different clients and see another
client, we have to act like we don’t know them. Not my rules—Cherie’s.
 “Honey, if you think that one’s beautiful, let me show you the one I think is going to have fierce
competition in the auction tonight.” Marv says polite goodbyes to Roman and his date and I can feel
Roman’s eyes on me as we walk away.
We stop in front of a hideous painting of a naked woman on a couch. It looks renaissance era-
esque but what do I know?
“That’s very... fascinating,” I say, making sure to say the opposite of how I really feel.
“Right?” Marv replies, sipping on his champagne and staring at it a bit too longingly. “Absolutely
fascinating.”
An older couple comes over and Marv briefly introduces us before they start a conversation about
the gallery, business, and a bunch of other things I’m obviously not interested in. Still, I politely listen
and pretend to engage in the conversation. After about five minutes, I’m fighting boredom and see
Roman Silverstone coming in our direction. He beams a smile at me with those perfectly straight,
white teeth and flirtatious brown eyes that makes my insides clench.
Instead of stopping, he and his date go through another set of doors I assume leads to the auction
area. Once Marv gets done chatting with the couple, an announcement is made to head into the auction
room, where we’ll sit through hours of bidding wars and money being tossed around like leaves in the
wind.
***
I watch out the window as the scenery passes me. Trees are beginning to lose their leaves and the
night is clear, the Colorado sky twinkling with stars and a half moon. The Bentley pulls up to Bella
Manor and stops. I turn when I hear Marv’s voice.
“Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Kiara. You were as wonderful and graceful as
promised,” he says, kissing me on the cheek.
“You’re welcome. I was happy to spend time with you.” I kiss him on his soft, wrinkly cheek in
return.
He grins and I can see him glance at my cleavage once before placing something into the palm of
my hand. I close my hand around it and tip my head in gratitude. The driver opens the door and I get
out with his help.
“Goodnight, Marv,” I say with a small smile and wave before walking up to the front door of the
manor.
“Goodnight, beautiful,” I hear him say before the driver closes the door.
 An early fall wind blows and I shiver, hurrying my steps to the door. Cherie is there to greet me,
the door opening with a squeak before I reach the top step.
“Welcome back,” she says, her eyes crinkling around the edges. Cherie is my boss and has run this
business for a number of years. In her fifties but always looking classy and beautiful, she’s been
really good to me and the rest of the girls here at Bella Manor.
“Hi, Mother.” I look down at the bill in my hand to see Marv’s one-hundred-dollar tip.
“Nice,” Cherie says, handing me three more one-hundred-dollar bills, my payment for the night.
“Thank you,” I say, holding them up and then shoving all four bills into my small, glittery purse.
“Is the schedule posted?” I ask.
“Sure is,” she says. “You’re booked solid the next week!”
“Yay!” I say with a smile, but really, I’m dreading it. I head up the stairs to the wardrobe room to
change.
The house is situated not far from Colorado State College and everyone just assumes we’re some
kind of sorority house. In all fairness, a few girls who work here attend the college. We refer to
Cherie as “Mother” when there are non-residents inside, as everyone assumes she’s our house mother,
as she does live here fulltime—it’s her home. We don’t throw wild parties or let college-aged people
who don’t work here inside. In other words, the house is just a ruse for Cherie’s true business: High-
class escorts.
After changing out of the expensive cocktail dress and depositing it into the house’s laundry, and
putting the stilettos into the sanitation bin and the costume jewelry back into the box, I pull the money
out of the sequined purse and hang it on the hook. I change clothes and then walk downstairs in my
yoga pants and sweatshirt. I wave goodbye to a couple of the girls and head out the back.
I unlock my old Toyota Corolla and get in, rubbing my hands together against the chill. “Please
start,” I mutter under my breath, and then say a quick prayer to the man upstairs that He hears me.
Breathing a sigh of relief that the old car started, I turn the heat on and hope it works. It’s been hit
or miss lately and I know I need to take it in to be fixed, but I lack the time, and of course, the money.
Thankful for the short ride home, I park in the lot of my apartment complex and look around
briefly before walking briskly to the elevator, taking it to my fifth-floor apartment. I unlock it quietly
and smile when I see Midge on the sofa watching television.
“Hi,” I say quietly, setting my purse on the dining room table.
She mutes the TV. “Hi, how was your night?”
 “Easy. Low-key. The usual,” I reply, sitting on the sofa next to her and rubbing my feet.
“Everything quiet?”
She nods and says, “Perfect as usual.”
I sigh in relief. “That’s great.” Then I tell her about my date.
After I’m done, Midge stands and heads toward the table. She grabs her phone and keys and I
follow her.
“Oh, here,” I say, pulling two twenties from my purse and handing them to her. “Thanks again.”
She nods, a few gray curls that have escaped her bun bouncing on her round cheeks. “Not a
problem, as always.”
I walk her to the door, look down the lighted hallway, watch her go into her apartment a few
doors down, then close and lock both locks. In the kitchen, I grab a boxed protein shake and twist off
the cap as I walk to the sofa and pick up the remote, turning off the television. After flipping out the
lights, I head toward the bedrooms.
The light from a moon and stars nightlight shows my little angel asleep in his twin bed. He looks
so little curled up in the middle and I pull his dinosaur comforter up to cover him completely. Leaning
down, I smooth back his light-brown hair with the palm of my hand and then kiss his face. He sighs in
his sleep and his long eyelashes flutter a little. I freeze, hoping I didn’t wake him. He sighs again and
I walk out, closing the door halfway and tiptoeing to my room.
After quickly stripping off my clothes, I hop into a hot shower that instantly relaxes me. I use face
wash to wash off all the gawdy makeup I’d worn tonight and immediately feel better. After I’m
scrubbed clean, I finish my protein shake, brush my teeth, and fall into bed, exhausted.
Tomorrow, I have to get up and do it all over again.
 TW O
Kiara
I kiss my son’s forehead a second before he runs into the daycare center and finds his friends.
“Bye, Rhett,” I say.
“Bye, Mommy!” He waves at me from the group of boys playing with toy construction trucks.
I smile because I’m relieved he’s happy here. It was so hard at first, dropping him off and having
him cry for me. He was only two at the time, but after a few months, he got used to it. He’s five now
and starts kindergarten next year, and while I’m sad he won’t be here anymore, I’m, of course,
relieved I won’t have the expense.
I frown when I get into the Corolla because the heat is out again. Thankfully, it’s not a freezing
morning but it’s cold enough where I find myself driving faster than I should just to get to work. I park
and quickly head inside.
“What’s up, buttercup?” the store manager, Anne, greets as I walk into the coffee shop and make
my way to the back.
“Nothing. How are you today?” I ask.
“We’re swamped, as you can see,” she replies. “I hope you’ve had some caffeine.”
“On it,” I say as I tie the green apron around my waist. I quickly pour four shots of espresso into a
small cup and toss it back like whiskey.
Anne wasn’t kidding, the place is a zoo. Drive-thru line is around the block and the lobby is
bustling. Online orders are stacked up on the counter and the screen is full of more. I’m assigned
online app orders today so I get busy, making them in order. After I’ve only got one done, I hear,
“Excuse me.”
I look up to see a young woman wearing a sour expression on her makeup-plastered face. She’s
holding a designer bag over one arm and the Venti coffee cup in the other.
I put on my practiced smile. “Yes?”
“Is this mine?” She practically shoves the coffee in my face.
I furrow my brow. What am I, a mind reader?
I stare at the cup, then into her scowling face. “Are you Addison?”
“Yes, Addison. One D, not two.”
I didn’t even make that damn drink...
 “Okay, did you have the... caramel macchiato, two shots, soy milk, extra whip?” I’m literally
reading from her cup at this point.
“Yes, but how was I supposed to know this was mine when you people can’t even spell?”
My face is about to crack from this smile. “I’m sorry about that. Do you need me to remake it?”
She glances around the busy store and decides that wouldn’t be in her best interest. I wonder if
she knew I’d take my sweet time doing so. “No, it’s fine. Just learn to read next time! Geez.” She rolls
her eyes and stomps off with a bunch of customers staring after her in disgust. Some are laughing.
I’m too busy for this shit!
I huff out a breath, and the two strands of hair I purposely leave hanging out of my ponytail to
frame my face go flapping.
“What a little bitch,” Anne murmurs, coming to stand next to me to help me with the internet
orders.
“Tell me about it,” I reply quietly.
“Thank God she’s not a regular,” Anne replies, grabbing a cup and filling it with milk before
putting it under the frothing machine.
Hot liquid spurts out and splashes our aprons. We both scream and jump back. A bunch of
customers watch us.
“Dammit, who forgot to clean the machine?”
“Sorry, Anne. I’ll get it done now,” one of the other baristas says, her face red since it was
obviously clogged and squirted us.
Hours go by and the shop finally slows down. I take a small break in the breakroom and munch on
a bowl of oatmeal while I scroll my phone. I’m about to click on a link to some newer apartments I
see an ad for when the phone rings with an incoming call.
“Hello?” I say after swallowing a bite of oatmeal too fast. I take a sip of water.
“Ms. King? This is Betty from Loving Hands. Do you have a minute?”
I startle when I hear the daycare’s name. It didn’t come up on my caller ID. “Of course. Is
everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine, but we wanted to let you know Rhett had a small incident on the
playground today.”
I close my eyes. “Okay, go on.”
 “He and another boy were arguing over a swing. The boy tried to take it from him as he was about
to get on. Rhett told him he had it first. The boy took it anyway. Rhett grabbed the swing back, and
then...”
I hear her pause and my stomach roils some more. “And what, Betty?”
“Well, Rhett punched the other child in the stomach.”
Crap.
“Is the boy okay?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Yes, just got the wind knocked out of him. We put Rhett in timeout for the rest of recess.”
Great, he’ll be even more wound up tonight without getting that exercise. But, I couldn’t blame the
school.
“I’m so sorry, Betty. I’ll have a talk with him when I pick him up this afternoon. Do I need to
come get him?”
“No, we’re doing an art project now and he’s content with that. I just wanted to let you know
before you got here.”
“Thanks. Tell the boy’s parents I’m sorry, okay?”
“Will do, Ms. King. Bye.”
Dammit.
***
“But he took my swing. I had it first!”
I have to bite back a smile at the way Rhett’s arms are folded across his chest defiantly and the
furrow between his brow. He’s about as frightening as an angry puppy.
“I know, bud, but you can’t just go punch someone because they took something you had first. Use
your words.” I pick up his spoonful of peas, encouraging him to eat them.
He throws his little arms up. “I did. I said, ‘Jacob, I had the swing first!’ But he took it from me
anyway.”
“I understand,” I say, trying to decide the best way to handle this. “Just no more violence, okay?
Tell the teacher next time.”
He rolls his eyes. “My friend Landon always tells the teacher and then she doesn’t let anyone
have the toy. Or the swing. Or whatever.”
 “Let’s get into the bath,” I say, changing the subject. Clearly, you can’t negotiate with terrorists.
Or in this case, a five-year-old.
He jumps down without having barely touched his noodles and peas and runs for the bathroom.
Once the tub is full, I sit on the closed toilet seat and check the time. I have two hours before my
“date” with another old coot tonight.
I won’t say I hate the escort job. It pays amazingly well and I get to dress up, but I hate being
away from Rhett. But I can’t turn down the pay. The coffee shop pays me assistant manager wages,
minimal health benefits, and they work with me on my hours, but it’s not even close to being enough to
afford this old, dinky two-bedroom apartment in downtown Denver. The rents have gone up
everywhere and I am not raising my son here. I have to keep saving to get the hell out of here. He
deserves a better life. We both do.
Once Rhett’s in bed, I hear a knock on the door. I let Midge in. She has been a godsend. My
widowed neighbor who is happy to sit and watch TV for forty bucks while Rhett sleeps seems like a
good deal to her. I’m only gone about three to four hours a night, but it’s all I can afford to pay her,
and she doesn’t seem to mind. Rhett rarely wakes up, and if he does, she just gets him water and puts
him back to bed or reads him a story.
After a short drive, thankful my car started, I arrive at Bella Manor, hurry inside, and get dressed
in a sequined blue cocktail dress with a huge slit up the side, and strappy silver sandals.
As I’m putting finishing touches on my makeup, I hear, “You look gorgeous, honey!”
In the reflection, I see my friend Jaycee smiling at me with her warm brown eyes.
“Thanks!” I say, turning around. “So do you!”
“I saw on the schedule you got old man Portsmouth tonight.” She makes a face. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. He’s handsy, but he tips well. I’ll just somehow have to endure it.” I wink at her. “I see
you got Roman Silverstone. Lucky bitch,” I add.
She waggles her perfect eyebrows and smooths some of her long, straight, brown hair over one
shoulder as she glides on some lip gloss. “Also a good tipper. Wouldn’t mind if he was handsy
though.”
I shake my head with a smirk and turn back to the mirror, applying one last coat of mascara. You
and me both, sis. You and me both.
 TH RE E
Roman
I twirl the toothpick around in my fingers before popping it back into my mouth as I listen with the
least amount of interest possible to Dave drone on about this quarter’s latest numbers. While I’m
mildly interested in profits, it seems we just keep making more thanks to my cousin Lincoln’s ability
to turn nothing into cash.
I take notes on the tablet here and there when something perks my interest, but I know Tricia, our
secretary, will send us the meeting minutes as soon as she gets them typed up.
“Does anyone have anything to add to the meeting?” Dave asks, his glasses perched on the end of
his nose.
I take in his paunch belly and ruddy cheeks and am reminded I need to get to the gym later. I look
over at my other cousin, Nathan, and see him smiling down at his phone. I roll my eyes. I’m sure he’s
texting, or most likely, sexting, his shiny new fiancée Sierra. Their wedding is coming up in a couple
of months and that’s all Nate seems to talk about these days.
Whatever.
That reminds me that I have to figure out if I’m going to bring a date to the wedding or not. I don’t
want to use the escort service I use for social work events, because then I’d have to answer questions
about who the girl is, and my parents—namely my mother—will nag me about our relationship status.
I don’t like to lie, so it’s just something I’m going to have to avoid. I have a few girls I could ask.
“Roman, anything?”
I look up from where I was staring blankly at the iPad and put on a smile, pulling the toothpick
out. “No, Dave. I’m good.”
“Meeting adjourned,” Dave says after throwing me a dirty look. The guy seriously hates me. He
thinks all I do is party and post on social media. “You never do any real work,” he once told me. I
almost made some real work of firing his ass.
Dickhead.
I get up and head to the back of the offices, opening the glass door. “Hi, Trish. Any calls?” I ask.
“Someone from Instagram called, said they were returning your call. I shot you a DM with the
info.”
“Thanks,” I reply, smiling at her.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
guard against surprise and proposed when we next came
on shore to come prepared to defend ourselves.
“When we reached the landing we were kindly received,
as usual. The natives were bringing in pepper very slowly;
only now and then a single Malay would make his
appearance with a bag upon his head, and it was not until
nearly three o’clock in the afternoon that sufficient was
collected to commence weighing; and between three and
four o’clock the first boat started from the shore. The
natives were, however, still bringing in pepper, with a
promise of another boat load during the day. This was a
mere subterfuge to keep us on shore.
“As the boat was passing out of the river, I noticed her
stop off one of the points, and believing it to be the object
of her crew to steal pepper, and secrete it among the
neighboring high grass, two men were sent down to look
after them. They soon returned, remarking that there
appeared to be nothing wrong. The ship lay about three-
fourths of a mile from the shore, and between the scale-
house and the beach there was a piece of rising ground,
so that standing at the scales we could just see the ship’s
topgallant yards.
“I had observed a vessel in the offing in the course of
the day, apparently approaching this place or Soosoo, and,
being at leisure, I walked towards the beach to ascertain if
she had hoisted any national colours. The instant I had
proceeded far enough to see our ship’s hull, I observed
that the pepper-boat, which was at this time within two or
three hundred feet of her, appeared to contain a large
number of men. My suspicions were instantly aroused,
and I returned to question the men who were sent down
to the mouth of the river.
“I was then informed, for the first time, that as they had
approached the boat six or seven Malays jumped up from
the high grass and rushed on board her; and as she
passed out of the river, they saw her take in from a
passing ferry boat about the same number; but as they all
appeared to be ‘youngsters,’ to use their own expression,
they did not think the circumstance of sufficient
importance to mention it. They were reprimanded for such
an omission of duty, accompanied with the remark:
“‘Your youngsters, as you call them, will, I suspect, be
found old enough in iniquity, to capture the ship, if once
admitted upon her decks.’
“The words of Po Adam, that morning, that ‘Mr. Knight
no look sharp, no understand Malay-man,’ now struck me
with their full force and a fearful foreboding, and I
appealed to Mr. Barry, the second officer, for his opinion as
to what would be Mr. Knight’s probable course, remarking
‘he certainly will not disobey his orders.’ Mr. Barry,
however, expressed his fears as to the result, remarking
he knew so well the contempt which Mr. Knight
entertained for these people, ‘that he will probably
conclude your precautions to be altogether unnecessary,
and that he can allow them to come on board with
impunity, without your ever knowing anything of the
circumstances, and no harm will come of it.’
“This view of the case certainly did not allay my anxiety,
and I observed, ‘if your predictions prove correct, the ship
is taken,’ but concluding it to be altogether too late for us
on shore to render any assistance to the ship, and still
clinging to the hope that Mr. Knight would, after all, be
faithful to his trust, Mr. Barry and two men were directed
to walk towards the beach without any apparent concern,
and watch the movements on board.
“I should have remarked, that on my own way up the
beach, just before I passed near a tree under the shade of
which a group of ten or twelve natives were apparently
holding a consultation, all conversation ceased. The object
of this meeting, as I was afterwards informed, was to
consider whether it would be better to kill us before
attempting to take the ship or afterwards; and the
conclusion arrived at was to be sure of the ship first, the
killing of us appearing to them as easy, to use their own
simile, as cutting off the heads of so many fowls; the
manner how had already been decided, the time when
was all there was to be considered—a native having been
already appointed, and the price fixed for the
assassination of each of the boat’s crew. The price set
upon my life was one thousand dollars, for the second
officer’s, five hundred dollars, and for each of the seamen
one hundred dollars.
“As soon as Mr. Barry has reached an elevation where
he could fairly see the ship’s hull, he turned short round,
and walked, without hastening his steps, directly towards
me—passing me, however, without discovering any
emotion, and said, ‘there is trouble on board, sir.’
“To the question ‘What did you see?’ he replied, ‘men
jumping overboard.’
“Convinced at once, of our own perilous situation, and
that our escape depended on extremely cautious and
judicious management, I answered:
“‘We must show no alarm, but muster the men, and
order them into the boat.’
“We deliberately pushed off from the shore, the Malays
having no suspicion of our design, thinking it to be our
intention, by our apparently unconcerned manner, to cross
the river for a stroll in the opposite Bazar as was our
frequent custom. The moment the boat’s stern had left
the bank of the river, Po Adam sprang into her in a great
state of excitement, to whom I exclaimed:
 “‘What! do you come, too, Adam?’
“He answered: ‘You got trouble, Captain, if they kill you,
must kill Po Adam first.’
“He suggested we should steer the boat as far as
possible from the western bank of the river, which was
here not more than one hundred feet wide, when I
remarked to the boat’s crew:
“‘Now spring to your oars, my lads, for your lives, or we
are all dead men.’
“Adam exhibited the utmost alarm and consternation,
encouraging my men to exert themselves, and talking
English and Acheenise both in the same breath—now
exclaiming in Acheenise, ‘di-yoong di yoong hi!’ And then
exhorting them to ‘pull, pull strong!’
“As we doubled one of the points we saw hundreds of
natives rushing towards the river’s mouth, brandishing
their weapons, and otherwise menacing us. Adam, upon
seeing this, was struck with dismay, and exclaimed ‘if got
blunderbuss will kill all,’ but luckily they were not provided
with that weapon.
“A ferry-boat was next discovered with ten or twelve
Malays in her, armed with long spears, evidently waiting to
intercept us. I ordered Mr. Barry into the bows of the boat,
with Adam’s sword, to make demonstrations, and also to
con the boat in such a manner as to run down the ferry
boat, which I concluded was our only chance to escape.
With headlong impetuosity we were rushing towards our
antagonist, nerved with the feeling of desperation. With
profound stillness and breathless anxiety we awaited the
moment of collision.
“The points of their pikes could be plainly seen. Already
I observed Mr. Barry with his sword raised, as if in the act
of striking. But when we had approached within some
twenty feet, her crew appeared completely panic-struck,
and made an effort to get out of our way. It was, however,
a close shave—so close that one of their spears was
actually over the stern of our boat. The Malays on the
bank of the river appeared frantic at our escape, and ran
into the water to their armpits in their endeavors to
intercept us, waving their swords above their heads, and
shouting at the top of their voices.
“We had now time calmly to contemplate the scene
through which we had just passed, with hearts, I trust,
grateful to God for his kind protection and safe guidance
in the midst of its perils. This was the part of their plan,
otherwise well conceived, which was defective—they had
taken no measures to prevent our escape from the shore,
never doubting for a moment that our lives were at their
disposal, unprotected and defenceless as they saw us.
“Our doomed ship lay tranquilly in the roads, with sails
furled, and a pepper boat alongside, with a multitude of
natives in every part of her, and none of her own crew
visible, with the exception of a man on the top gallant
yard, and some ten or twelve heads just even with the
surface of the water.
“The pirates were conspicuous in every corner of the
Friendship’s deck, waving their cloths, and making signals
of success to the natives on shore. My first impulse was to
propose boarding her but I was very properly reminded
that if the ship with her full armament had been taken
with so many of her crew on board, we could do nothing
in our unarmed state toward her recapture.
“We continued, however, to row towards the ship until
we could see the Malays pointing her muskets at us from
the quarterdeck, and they appeared also to be clearing
away the stern chasers, which we knew to be loaded to
their muzzles with grape and langrage. At this moment,
three large Malay boats crowded with men were seen
coming out of the river, directly towards us. While
debating whether it would not be best to proceed at once
to Muckie for assistance, which was some twenty-five
miles distant, where we knew two or three American
vessels were laying, heavy clouds commenced rolling
down over the mountains, and the rumbling of distant
thunder, and sharp flashes of lightning gave sure
indications that the land wind would be accompanied with
deluges of rain, rendering the night one of Egyptian
darkness, in which it would be almost impossible to grope
our way safely along shore towards that place.
“Under these discouraging prospects, Po Adam advised
us to proceed to Pulo Kio, and take shelter in his fort.
Submitting ourselves almost wholly to his guidance, we at
once pulled away for that place, but before we reached it
his heart failed him, and he represented his fort as not
sufficiently strong to resist a vigorous assault, and he
would not therefore be responsible for our lives, but
suggested we should proceed to Soosoo, some two miles
further from the scene of the outrage. We accordingly
proceeded for Soosoo river, which we had scarcely entered
when Po Adam’s confidence again forsook him, and he
advised us not to land. We therefore only filled a keg with
water from the river and came out over the bar, intending
to make the best of our way to Muckie.
“The night now came on dark and lowering, and just as
we left Soosoo river, the land wind, which had been some
time retarded by a strong sea breeze overtook us,
accompanied with heavy thunder and torrents of rain,
which came pelting down upon our unprotected heads.
Sharp flashes of lightning occasionally shot across the
gloom, which rendered the scene still more fearful. We
double manned two of the oars with Mr. Barry and Po
Adam, and I did the best I could to keep the boat’s head
down the coast, it being impossible to see any object on
shore, or even to hear the surf by which we could judge
our distance from it. Having proceeded in this way until
we began to think ourselves near North Tallapow, off
which was a dangerous shoal, it became a matter of
concern how we should keep clear of it. We frequently laid
upon our oars and listened, to ascertain if we could hear it
break. Directly we felt the boat lifted upon a high wave,
which we knew must be the roller upon this shoal, which
passing, broke with a fearful crash some three or four
hundred feet from us.
“Having thus providentially passed this dangerous spot
in safety, the weather began to clear a little, and here and
there a star appeared. The off shore wind, too, became
more steady and the rain ceased. We ripped up some
gunny bags which were left in the boat, and tied them
together for a sail, under which we found the boat
bounded along quite briskly; we therefore laid in our oars,
all hands being quite exhausted, and proceeded in this
way the rest of the distance to Muckie, where we arrived
at about one o’clock, A. M.
“We found here the ship James Monroe, Porter, of New
York, brig Governor Endicott, Jenks, of Salem, and brig
Palmer, Powers, of Boston. On approaching the roads, we
were first hailed from the Governor Endicott, and to the
question ‘What boat is that?’ the response was ‘the
Friendship, from Qualah Battoo,’ which answer was
immediately followed with the question ‘Is that you, Capt.
Endicott,’ ‘Yes,’ was the answer, ‘with all that are left of us.’
“Having communicated with the other vessels, their
commanders repaired on board the Governor Endicott,
when it was instantly concluded to proceed with their
vessels to Qualah Battoo, and endeavor to recover the
ship. These vessels were laying with most of their sails
unbent, but their decks were quickly all life and animation,
and the work of bending sails proceeded so rapidly that
before 3 o’clock all the vessels were out of the roads and
heading up the coast towards Qualah Battoo. It was our
intention to throw as many of the crews of the Governor
Endicott and Palmer on board the James Monroe, as could
be prudently spared, she being the largest vessel, and
proceed with her directly into the roads, and lay her
alongside the Friendship, and carry her by boarding—the
other vessels following at a short distance. But as soon as
we had completed all our arrangements, and while we
were yet several miles outside the port, the sea breeze
began to fail us, with indications that the land wind, like
that of the day before, would be accompanied with heavy
rain. We, however, stood on towards the place until the off
shore wind and rain reached us when all three vessels
were obliged to anchor and suspend further operations
until the next morning.
“Before dark I had taken the bearings of the ship by
compass, intending, if circumstances favored it, to
propose a descent upon her during the night; but the
heavy rain continued the most part of it and we were
baffled in that design.
“Daylight found us upon the decks of the Monroe,
watching for the ship, which, in the indistinct light, could
not be discovered in the roads. The horizon in the offing
was also searched unsuccessfully with our glasses, but we
at last discovered her close in shore, far to the westward
of her late anchorage, inside a large cluster of dangerous
shoals, to which position, as it then appeared, the Malays
must have removed her during the night. One thing was
certain we could not carry out our design of running her
alongside in her present situation; the navigation would
be too dangerous for either of the ships. At this moment
we saw a prou, or Malay trading craft, approaching the
roads from the westward, with which I communicated,
hired a canoe, and sent a messenger on shore to inform
the Rajahs that if they would give the ship up peaceably
to us we would not molest them, otherwise we should fire
both upon her and the town.
“After waiting a considerable time for the return of the
messenger, during which we could see boats loaded with
plunder passing close in shore from the ship, this delay
seemed only a subterfuge to gain time, and we fired a
gun across the bows of one of them. In a few minutes the
canoe which we had sent on shore was seen putting off.
The answer received, however, was one of defiance: ‘that
they should not give her up so easily, but we might take
her if we could.’

The Glide (See Chapter XXVI)

 The Friendship

“All three vessels then opened fire upon the town and
ship, which was returned by the forts on shore, the Malays
also firing our ship’s guns at us. The first shot from one of
the forts passed between the masts of the Governor
Endicott, not ten feet above the heads of the crew, and
the second struck the water just under her counter. This
vessel had been kedged in close to the shore within point
blank shot of the fort, with springs upon her cable,
determined on making every gun tell. The spirited manner
in which their fire was returned soon silenced this fort,
which mounted six six-pounders and several small brass
pieces.
“It appeared afterward, by the testimony of one of my
crew, who was confined here, that the firing was so
effectual that it dismounted their guns and split the
carriages. The other two forts, situated at a greater
distance from the beach, continued firing, and no progress
was made towards recapturing the ship, which, after all,
was our only object. It was now between three and four
o’clock, and it was certain that if the Malays were allowed
to hold possession of the ship much longer, they would
either get her on shore or burn her. We then held a
council of war on board the Monroe, and concluded to
board her with as large a force as we could carry in three
boats; and that the command of the expedition should, of
course, devolve upon me. At this juncture the ship ceased
firing. We observed a column of smoke rise from her
decks abreast the mainmast, and there appeared to be
great confusion on board. We subsequently ascertained
that they had blown themselves up by setting fire to an
open keg of powder from which they were loading the
guns after having expended all the cartridges.
“The ship lay with her port side towards us, and, with
the intention of getting out of the range of her guns, we
pulled to the westward at an angle of some 33 deg., until
we opened her starboard bow, when we bore up in three
divisions for boarding, one at each gangway, and the
other over the bows. We were now before the wind, and
two oars in each boat were sufficient to propel them; the
rest of the crew, armed to the teeth with muskets,
cutlasses and pistols, sat quietly in their places, with their
muskets pointed at the ship as the boats approached.
“The Malays now, for the first time, seemed to
comprehend our design, and as we neared the ship, were
struck with consternation, and commenced deserting her
with all possible dispatch, and in the greatest confusion.
The numerous boats of all descriptions alongside were
immediately filled, and the others jumped overboard and
swam for the shore. When we reached the ship, there was
to all appearances no one on board. Still fearing some
treachery, we approached her with the same caution, and
boarded her, cutlasses in hand. Having reached her decks
and finding them deserted, before we laid aside our arms
a strict search was made with instructions to cut down any
who should be found and give no quarter. But she was
completely forsaken—not a soul on board.
“Her appearance, at the time we boarded her defies
description; suffice it to say, every part of her bore ample
testimony to the violence and destruction with which she
had been visited. That many lives had been sacrificed her
blood-stained decks abundantly testified. We found her
within pistol shot of the beach, with most of her sails cut
loose and flying from the yards. Why they had not
succeeded in their attempts to get her on shore, was soon
apparent. A riding turn on the chain around the windlass,
which they were not sailors enough to clear, had no doubt
prevented it. There had been evidently a fruitless attempt
to cut it off. While we were clearing the chain, and
preparing to kedge the ship off into the roads, the Malays,
still bent upon annoying us and unwilling to abandon their
prize, were seen drawing a gun over the sandy beach
upon a drag directly under our stern, which, being fired, it
jumped off the carriage and was abandoned. It was the
work of a short time for us to kedge the ship off into deep
water and anchor her in comparative security alongside
the other ships in the roads.
“The next morning a canoe was seen approaching the
James Monroe from Pulo Kio, with five or six men in her
whom we took, as a matter of course, to be natives; but
we were soon hailed from that ship, and informed that
four of the number were a part of our own crew. Their
haggard and squalid appearance bespoke what they had
suffered. It would seem impossible that in the space of
four days, men could, by any casualty, so entirely lose
their identity. It was only by asking their names that I
knew any of them. They were without clothing other than
loose pieces of cotton cloth thrown over their persons,
their hair matted, their bodies crisped and burnt in large,
running blisters, besides having been nearly devoured by
musquitos, the poison of whose stings had left evident
traces of its virulence; their flesh wasted away, and even
the very tones of their voices changed. They had been
wandering about in the jungle without food ever since the
ship was taken. Their account of the capture of the ship
was as follows:
“When the pepper-boat came alongside, it was
observed by the crew that all on board her were
strangers. They were also better dressed than boatmen
generally, all of them having on white or yellow jackets,
and new ivory-handled kreises. No notice appeared to be
taken of these suspicious circumstances by the mate, and
all except two men, who were left to pass up pepper, were
admitted indiscriminately to come on board. One of the
crew, named Wm. Parnell, who was stationed at the
gangway to pass along pepper, made some remark, to call
the mate’s attention to the number of natives on board,
and was answered in a gruff manner, and asked if he was
afraid. ‘No,’ replied the man, ‘not afraid, but I know it to
be contrary to the regulations of the ship.’
“He was ordered, with an oath, to pass along pepper
and mind his own business. The natives were also seen by
the crew sharpening their kreises upon the grindstone
which stood upon the forecastle, and a man named
Chester, who was subsequently killed while starting
pepper down the fore hatch, asked them in pantomime
what so many of them wanted on board and was
answered in the same way, that they came off to see the
ship. He was heard by one of the crew to say, ‘we must
look out you do not come for anything worse,’ at the same
time drawing a handspike within his reach.
 The Malays had distributed themselves about the decks
in the most advantageous manner for an attack, and at
some preconcerted signal a simultaneous assault upon the
crew was made in every part of the ship. Two Malays were
seen by the steward to rush with their kreises upon Mr.
Knight, who was very badly stabbed in the back and side,
the weapons appearing to be buried in his body up to
their very hilts. Chester at the fore hatch, notwithstanding
his distrust and precaution, was killed outright and
supposed to have fallen into the hold. The steward at the
galley was also badly wounded, and was only saved from
death by the kreis striking hard against a short rib, which
took the force of the blow. Of the two men on the stage
over the ship’s side, one was killed and the other so badly
wounded as to be made a cripple for life.
“The chief officer was seen, after he was stabbed, to
rush aft upon the starboard side of the quarterdeck and
endeavor to get a boarding pike out of the beckets
abreast the mizzen rigging, where he was met by Parnell
to whom he exclaimed, ‘do your duty.’ At the same instant
two or three Malays rushed upon him and he was
afterwards seen lying dead near the same spot, with a
boarding pike under him.
“On the instant the crew found the ship attacked, they
attempted to get aft into the cabin for arms but the
Malays had placed a guard on each side of the
companionway which prevented them; they then rushed
forward for handspikes and were again intercepted; and
being completely bewildered, surprised and defenceless,
and knowing that several of their shipmates had already
been killed outright before their eyes, and others
wounded, all who could swim plunged overboard, and the
others took to the rigging or crept over the bows out of
sight. The decks were now cleared and the pirates had full
possession of the ship.
 “The men in the water then consulted together what
they should do, concluding it certain death to return to the
ship; and they determined it would be the safest to swim
on shore, and secrete themselves in the jungle; but as
they approached it they observed the beach about Qualah
Battoo lined with natives, and they proceeded more to the
westward and landed upon a point called Ouj’ong Lamah
Moodah nearly two miles distant from the ship. On their
way they had divested themselves of every article of
clothing, and they were entirely naked at the time they
landed.
“As it was not yet dark, they sought safety and
seclusion in the jungle, from whence they emerged as
soon as they thought it safe, and walked upon the beach
in the direction of Cape Felix and Annalaboo, intending to
make the best of their way to the latter place, with the
hope of meeting there some American vessel. At daylight
they sought a hiding-place again in the bushes, but it
afforded them only a partial protection from the scorching
rays of the sun from which, being entirely naked, they
experienced the most dreadful effects. Hunger and thirst
began also to make demands upon them; but no food
could anywhere be found. They tried to eat grass, but
their stomachs refused it. They found a few husks of the
cocoanut, which they chewed, endeavoring to extract
some nourishment from them but in vain.
“They staid in their hiding-place the whole of this day,
and saw Malays passing along the beach but were afraid
to discover themselves. At night they pursued their
journey again, during which they passed several small
streams, where they slaked their thirst but obtained no
food. About midnight they came to a very broad river,
which they did not venture to cross. The current was very
rapid, and having been thirty-six hours without food of
any kind, they did not dare attempt swimming it. Here,
then, they were put completely hors de combat; they
found for want of food their energies were fast giving way,
and still they believed their lives depended on not being
discovered.
“Since further progress towards Annalaboo appeared
impossible, they resolved to retrace their steps, endeavor
to pass Qualah Battoo in the night without being
discovered and reach the hospitable residence of Po
Adam, at Pulo Kio. They accordingly took up their line of
march towards that place, and reached, as they supposed,
the neighborhood of Cape Felix by the morning, when
they again retreated to the jungle, where they lay
concealed another day, being Wednesday, the day of the
recapture of the ship, but at too great distance to hear the
firing. At night they again resumed their journey, and
having reached the spot where the Malays landed in so
much haste when they deserted the ship, they found the
beach covered with canoes, a circumstance which aroused
their suspicions but for which they were at a loss to
account.
“They now concluded to take a canoe as the most
certain way of passing Qualah Battoo without discovery,
and so proceed to Pulo Kio. As they passed the roads,
they heard one of the ship’s bells strike the hour, and the
well-known cry of ‘All’s Well,’ but fearing it was some
decoy of the natives, they would not approach her but
proceeded on their way, and landed at Pulo Kio, secreting
themselves once more in the jungle, near the residence of
Po Adam until the morning, when four naked and half-
famished white men were seen to emerge from the
bushes and approach his fort with feeble steps. As soon as
recognized they were welcomed by him with the strongest
demonstrations of delight; slapping his hands, shouting at
the top of his lungs, and in the exuberance of his joy
committing all kinds of extravagances. They now heard of
the recapture of the ship, and the escape of the boat’s
crew on shore, who, it had never occurred to them, were
not already numbered with the dead.
“Having refreshed themselves (being the first food they
had tasted in seventy-two hours), they were conveyed by
Adam and his men on board the James Monroe in the
pitiful condition of which we have before spoken.
“In the course of the latter part of the same day,
another canoe, with a white flag displayed, was observed
approaching the fleet from the direction of Qualah Battoo,
containing three or four Chinamen who informed us that
four of our own men, two of whom were wounded, one
very severely, were at their houses on shore, where their
wounds had been dressed and they had been otherwise
cared for; and that we could ransom them of the Rajahs
at ten dollars each. To this I readily agreed, and they were
soon brought off to the ship in a sampan, and proved to
be Charles Converse and Gregorie Pedechio, seamen,
Lorenzo Migell, cook, and William Francis, steward.
“Converse was laid out at full length upon a board, as if
dead, evidently very badly wounded. The story of the poor
fellow was a sad one. He, with John Davis, being the two
tallest men in the ship, were on the stage over the side
when she was attacked. Their first impulse was, to gain
the ship’s decks, but they were defeated in this design by
the pirates who stood guard over the gangway and
making repeated thrusts at them. They then made a
desperate attempt to pass over the pepper-boat, and thus
gain the water, in doing which they were both most
severely wounded. Having reached the water, Converse
swam round to the ship’s bows and grasped the chain, to
which he clung as well as he was able, being badly
crippled in one of his hands, with other severe wounds in
various parts of his body. When it became dark, he
crawled up over the bows as well as his exhausted
strength from the loss of blood would permit, and crept to
the foot of the forecastle stairs, where he supposed he
must have fainted, and fell prostrate upon the floor
without the power of moving himself one inch further.
“The Malays believing him dead, took no heed of him,
but traveled up and down over his body the whole night.
Upon attempting to pass over the boat, after being foiled
in his endeavor to reach the ship’s decks, a native made a
pass at his head with his ‘parrung,’ a weapon resembling
most a butcher’s cleaver, which he warded off by throwing
up his naked arm, and the force of the blow fell upon the
outerpart of his hand, severing all the bones and sinews
belonging to three of his fingers, and leaving untouched
only the fore finger and thumb. Besides this he received a
kreis wound in the back which must have penetrated to
the stomach, for he bled from his mouth the most part of
the night. He was likewise very badly wounded just below
the groin, which came so nearly through the leg as to
discolor the flesh upon the inside.
“Wonderful, however, to relate, notwithstanding the
want of proper medical advice, and with nothing but the
unskillful treatment of three or four shipmasters, the
thermometer ranging all the time, from 85 to 90 deg., this
man recovered from his wounds, but in his crippled hand
he carried the marks of Malay perfidy to his watery grave,
having been drowned at sea from on board of the brig Fair
America, in the winter of 1833-4, which was, no doubt,
occasioned by this wound which unfitted him for holding
on properly while aloft.
“The fate of his companion Davis, was a tragical one.
He could not swim, and after reaching the water was seen
to struggle hard to gain the boat’s tackle-fall at the stern,
to which he clung until the Malays dropped the pepper
boat astern, when he was observed apparently imploring
mercy at their hands, which the wretches did not heed,
but butchered him upon the spot.
“Gregory was the man seen aloft when we had cleared
the river, cutting strange antics which we did not at the
time comprehend. By his account, when he reached the
fore topgallant yard, the pirates commenced firing the
ship’s muskets at him, which he dodged by getting over
the front side of the yard and sail and down upon the
collar of the stay, and then reversing the movement. John
Masury related that after being wounded in the side, he
crept over the bows of the ship and down upon an anchor,
where he was sometime employed in dodging the thrusts
of a boarding pike in the hands of a Malay, until the arrival
of a reinforcement from the shore when every one fearing
lest he should not get his full share of plunder, ceased
further to molest the wounded.
“The ship, the first night after her capture, according to
the testimony of these men, was a perfect pandemonium,
and a Babel of the most discordant sounds. The ceaseless
moaning of the surf upon the adjacent shore, the heavy
peals of thunder, and sharp flashings of lightning directly
over their heads, the sighing of the wind in wild discords
through the rigging, like the wailings of woe from the
manes of their murdered shipmates; and all this
intermingled with the more earthly sounds of the
squealing of pigs, the screeching of fowls, the cackling of
roosters, the unintelligible jargon of the natives, jangling
and vociferating, with horrible laughter, shouts and yells,
in every part of her, and in the boats alongside carrying
off plunder, their black figures unexpectedly darting forth
from every unseen quarter, as if rising up and again
disappearing through the decks, and gambolling about in
the dark, must have been like a saturnalia of demons.
 “It is the general impression that Malays, being
Musselmen, have a holy horror of swine, as unclean
animals; the very touch of which imposes many ablutions
and abstinence from food for several days together, but,
according to the testimony of my men, it was perfectly
marvellous how they handled those on board our ship,
going in their pens, seizing, struggling, and actually
embracing them, until they succeeded in throwing every
one overboard.
“The morning succeeding the capture of the Friendship,
affairs on board appeared to be getting to be a little more
settled, when several Chinamen came off and performed
the part of good Samaritans, taking the wounded men on
shore to their houses, and dressing their wounds with
some simple remedies which at least kept down
inflammation. In doing this, however, they were obliged to
barricade their dwellings, to guard them against the
insulting annoyances of the natives.
“Qualah Battoo bazar that day presented a ludicrous
spectacle. Almost every Malay was decked out in a white,
blue, red, checked, or striped shirt, or some other
European article of dress or manufacture stolen from the
ship, not even excepting the woolen table cloth belonging
to the cabin, which was seen displayed over the shoulders
of a native, all seemingly quite proud of their appearance,
and strutting about with solemn gravity and oriental self-
complacency. Their novel and grotesque appearance could
not fail to suggest the idea that a tribe of monkeys had
made a descent upon some unfortunate clothing
establishment, and each had seized and carried off
whatever article of dress was most suited to his taste and
fancy.
“The ship was now once more in our possession, with
what remained of her cargo and crew. She was rifled of
almost every movable article on board, and scarcely
anything but her pepper remaining. Of our outward cargo
every dollar of specie, and every pound of opium had, of
course, become a prey to them. All her spare sails and
rigging were gone—not a needle or ball of twine, palm,
marling spike, or piece of rope were left! All our charts,
chronometers and other nautical instruments—all our
clothing and bedding, were also gone; as well as our cabin
furniture and small stores of every description. Our ship’s
provisions, such as beef, pork and most of our bread, had,
however, been spared. Of our armament nothing but the
large guns remained. Every pistol, musket, cutlass, and
boarding pike, with our entire stock of powder, had been
taken.
“With assistance from the other vessels we immediately
began making the necessary preparations to leave the
port with all possible dispatch, but owing to much rainy
weather we did not accomplish it for three days after
recapturing the ship, when we finally succeeded in leaving
the place in company with the fleet bound for South
Tallapow, where we arrived on the fourteenth of February.
When we landed at this place with the other masters and
supercargoes, we were followed through the streets of the
bazar by the natives in great crowds, exulting and
hooting, with exclamations similar to these:
“‘Who great man now, Malay or American?’ ‘How many
man American dead?’ ‘How many man Malay dead?’
“We now commenced in good earnest to prepare our
ship for sea. Our voyage had been broken up, and there
was nothing left for us but to return to the United States.
We finally left Muckie, whither we had already proceeded,
on the twenty-seventh of February, for Pulo Kio
(accompanied by the ship Delphos, Capt. James D. Gillis,
and the Gov. Endicott, Capt. Jenks), where I was yet in
hopes to recover some of my nautical instruments. With
the assistance of Po Adam, I succeeded in obtaining, for a
moderate sum, my sextant and one of my chronometers,
which enabled me to navigate the ship. We sailed from
Pulo Kio on the fourth of March, and arrived at Salem on
the sixteenth of July.
“The intense interest and excitement caused by our
arrival home may still be remembered. It being nearly
calm, as we approached the harbor we were boarded
several miles outside by crowds of people, all anxious to
learn the most minute particulars of our sad misfortune,
the news of which had proceeded us by the arrival of a
China ship at New York which we had met at St. Helena.
The curiosity of some of our visitors was so great that
they would not be satisfied until they knew the exact spot
where every man stood, who was either killed or
wounded. Even the casing of the cabin, so much cut up in
search of money or other valuables, was an object of the
greatest interest.
“But the feeling of presumptuous exultation and proud
defiance exhibited by the natives, was of brief duration.
The avenger was at hand. In something less than a year
after this outrage, the U. S. Frigate, Potomac, Com.
Downes, appeared off the port of Qualah Battoo, and
anchored in the outer roads, disguised as a merchantman.
Every boat which visited her from the shore was detained
that her character might not be made known to the
natives. Several amusing anecdotes were told, of the fear
and terror exhibited in the countenances of the natives,
when they so unexpectedly found themselves imprisoned
within the wooden walls of the Potomac, surrounded by
such a formidable armament, which bespoke the errand
that had attracted her to their shores. They prostrated
themselves at full length upon her decks, trembling in the
most violent manner, and appearing to think nothing but
certain death awaited them.
“A reconnoitering party was first sent on shore,
professedly for the purpose of traffic. But when they
approached, the natives came down to the beach in such
numbers that it excited their suspicions that the frigate’s
character and errand had somehow preceded her, and it
was considered prudent not to land. Having, therefore,
examined the situation of the forts and the means of
defence, they returned to the Potomac. The same night
some 300 men, under the guidance of Mr. Barry, the
former second officer of the Friendship, who was assistant
sailing-master of the frigate, landed to the westward of
the place with the intention of surprising the forts and the
town, but by some unaccountable delay the morning was
just breaking when the detachment had effected a
landing, and as they were marching along the beach
towards the nearest fort, a Malay came out of it, by whom
they were discovered and an alarm given.
“They pushed on, however, and captured the forts by
storm after some hard fighting, and set fire to the town
which was burnt to ashes. The natives, not even excepting
the women, fought with great desperation, many of whom
would not yield until shot down or sabred on the spot. The
next day the frigate was dropped in within gunshot, and
bombarded the place, to impress them with the power
and ability of the United States to avenge any act of piracy
or other indignity offered by them to her flag.
“When I visited the coast again, some five months after
this event, I found the deportment of the natives
materially changed. There was now no longer exhibited
either arrogance or proud defiance. All appeared
impressed with the irresistible power of a nation that
could send such tremendous engines of war as the
Potomac frigate upon their shores to avenge any wrongs
committed upon its vessels, and that it would be better
policy for them to attend to their pepper plantations and
cultivate the arts of peace, than subject themselves to
such severe retribution as had followed this act of piracy
upon the Friendship.
“Perhaps, in justice to Po Adam, I ought to remark that
the account circulated by his countrymen of his conniving
at, if not being actually connected with this piracy (a
falsehood with which they found the means of deceiving
several American shipmasters soon after the affair), is a
base calumny against a worthy man, and has no
foundation whatever in truth. The property he had in my
possession on board the ship, in gold ornaments of
various kinds, besides money, amounting to several
thousand dollars, all of which he lost by the capture of the
ship and never recovered, bears ample testimony to the
falsity of this charge. His countrymen also worked upon
the avarice and cupidity of the king by misrepresentations
of his exertions to recover the ship, thereby preventing
them from making him a present of her which they
pretended was their intention. His sable majesty, in
consequence, absolved every one of Po Adam’s debtors,
all along the coast, from paying him their debts. He also
confiscated all his property he could find, such as fishing-
boats, nets and lines and other fishing tackle, and
appropriated the proceeds to his own use, so that Po
Adam was at once reduced to penury. All this was in
accordance with commodore Bieulieu’s account, upwards
of two hundred years before, viz: ‘If they ever suspect
that any one bears them an ill will, they endeavor to ruin
him by false accusations.’
“The king also sent a small schooner down the coast,
soon after, to reap further vengeance upon Po Adam.
Arriving at Pulo Kio, while Adam was absent, they rifled
his fort of everything valuable and even took the
ornaments, such as armlets and anklets, off the person of
his wife. Intelligence having been conveyed to Po Adam of
this outrage, he arrived home the night before the
schooner had left the harbor, and incensed, as it was
natural he should be, at such base and cowardly
treatment, he immediately opened a fire upon her and
sunk her in nine feet of water. She was afterwards fished
up by the Potomac frigate and converted into firewood.
“We do not know if Po Adam is now living, but some
sixteen years since, we saw a letter from him to one of
our eminent merchants, Joseph Peabody, Esq., of Salem,
Mass., asking for assistance from our citizens and stating
truthfully all the facts in his case. I endeavored at the
time, through our representative to Congress, to bring the
matter before that body but from some cause it did not
succeed, and the poor fellow has been allowed to live, if
not die, in his penury. We will, however, permit him to
state his own case, in his own language, which he does in
the following letter, written at his own dictation:
“‘Qualah Battoo, 7th October, 1841. Some
years have passed since the capture of the
Friendship, commanded by my old friend, Capt.
Endicott.
“‘It perhaps is not known to you, that, by
saving the life of Capt. Endicott, and the ship
itself from destruction, I became, in
consequence, a victim to the hatred and
vengeance of my misguided countrymen; some
time since, the last of my property was set on fire
and destroyed, and now, for having been the
steadfast friend of Americans, I am not only
destitute, but an object of derision to my
countrymen.
 “‘You, who are so wealthy and so prosperous, I
have thought, that, if acquainted with these
distressing circumstances, you would not turn a
deaf ear to my present condition.
“‘I address myself to you, because through my
agency many of your ships have obtained
cargoes, but I respectfully beg that you will have
the kindness to state my case to the rich pepper
merchants of Salem and Boston, firmly believing
that from their generosity, and your own, I shall
not have reason to regret the warm and sincere
friendship ever displayed towards your Captains,
and all other Americans, trading on this Coast....
“‘Wishing you, Sir, and your old companions in
the Sumatra trade, and their Captains, health and
prosperity, and trusting that, before many moons
I shall, through your assistance, be released from
my present wretched condition, believe me very
respectfully,
“‘Your faithful servant,
“(Signed) ‘Po Adam’ (in Arabic characters).”
 CHAPTER XX
EARLY SOUTH SEA VOYAGES

(1832)

F IFTY years ago two English missionaries in the Fijis wrote a book
in which they said that the traffic in sandalwood, tortoise-shell
and beche-de-mer among those islands “has been, and still is chiefly
in the hands of Americans from the port of Salem.” No corner of the
Seven Seas seems to have been too hostile or remote to be
overlooked by the shipmasters of old Salem in their quest for trade.
The first vessels of the East India Company to touch at the Fijis
made a beginning of that commerce a little more than a hundred
years ago. No more than four years after their pioneer voyage,
however, Captain William Richardson in the Salem bark Active was
trading with the natives and continuing his voyage to Canton in
1811. During the next half century the untutored people of the Fijis
pictured the map of America as consisting mostly of a place called
Salem whose ships and sailors were seldom absent from their palm-
fringed beaches.
When Commodore Wilkes sailed on his exploring expedition of the
South Seas in 1840, his pilot and interpreter was Captain Benjamin
Vandeford of Salem. He died on the way home from this famous
cruise and Commodore Wilkes wrote of him: “He had formerly been
in command of various vessels sailing from Salem, and had made
many voyages to the Fiji Islands. During our stay there he was
particularly useful in superintending all trade carried on to supply the
ship.” It was another Salem skipper of renown, Captain John H.
Eagleston, who carried one of Commodore Wilkes’ vessels safely into
port in 1840 among the Fijis by reason of his intimate knowledge of
those waters.
 South Sea trading in that era was a romance of commerce,
crowded with perilous adventure. The brig Charles Doggett of
Salem, commanded by Captain George Batchelder was lying off
Kandora in the Fijis in 1833, when her crew was attacked by natives.
Five of the seamen and the mate were killed and most of the others
wounded. On her way to Manila in the same voyage the brig
touched at the Pelew Islands and was again attacked, in which affray
a cabin boy was killed. The Charles Doggett had previously played a
part in one of the most romantic chapters of ocean history, the
mutiny of the Bounty. In 1831, Captain William Driver took the brig
to Tahiti whither, a short time before, the Bounty colony had been
transported by the British Government from its first home on Pitcairn
Island. There were eighty-seven of these descendants of the original
mutineers, and they had been taken to Tahiti at their own request to
seek a more fertile and habitable island. They were an Utopian
colony, virtuous, and intensely pious, and soon disgusted with the
voluptuous immoralities of the Tahitians, they became homesick for
the isolated peace of Pitcairn Island, and begged to be carried back.
When Captain Driver found them they besought him to take them
away from Tahiti, and he embarked them for Pitcairn Island,
fourteen hundred miles away. They had been gone only nine months
and they rejoiced with touching eagerness and affection at seeing
their old home again. Captain Driver went on his way in the Charles
Doggett, with the satisfaction of having done a kindly deed for one
of the most singularly attractive and picturesque communities known
in modern history.[44]
Another kind of sea-story was woven in the loss of the Salem ship
Glide which was wrecked at Tacanova in 1832, after her company
had been set upon by natives with the loss of two seamen. The
South Sea Islands were very primitive in those days, and the
narrative of the Glide as told by one of her crew portrays customs,
conditions and adventures which have long since vanished. The
Glide was owned by the famous Salem shipping merchant Joseph
Peabody, and commanded by Captain Henry Archer. She sailed for
the South Pacific in 1829, with a crew of young men hailing from her
home port. While at New Zealand a journal kept on board records
that “the presence of several English whale ships helped to relieve
the most timid of us from any feeling of insecurity because of the
treachery of the natives. Among the visitors on board was a chief
supposed to have been concerned in the massacre of the ship Boyd’s
crew in the Bay of Islands. Some of the particulars of this tragedy
were related to us by foreigners resident at New Zealand. The chief
was a man of very powerful frame, and of an exceedingly repulsive
appearance. The cook said: ‘There, that fellow looks as though he
could devour any of us without salt.’”
Captain Driver