I
Captain’s journal 18th November, 1673
arrived back aboard my ship, ‘Lady Mondegreen’s Wrath’, to be greeted by an impatientlooking Davy clutching a sheaf of documents, correspondence he collects for me from various trusted establishments whenever we make land. “Fetch me a drink and sit down, Davy, I’ll tell you all we spoke of,” I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. He thrust the stacked papers toward me. “Matthew wrote back.” Spotting Matthew’s seal on the topmost letter and abandoning all pretence of manners, I grabbed it and hurried toward my quarters. As I walked, I examined the missive. I could feel something bulkier than mere parchment contained within and as I stepped into my cabin, I broke the seal and emptied the contents on to the desk. A page fluttered out written in a hand I did not recognise, but it was to the item that bounced across the table with a musical jingle that my eye was immediately drawn. I recognised it immediately; Matthew’s ring: a chunky gold death’s head with elaborate engravings that I had long admired. The smile that plastered itself across my face at the sight of this well-remembered link to my past was wiped away in an instant as I considered what its appearance here could mean. With a sense of deep foreboding, I snatched up the letter. Dear Captain Summer, It is my sad duty to inform you that Matthew Winyard departed this vale of tears on the night of 19th September in the year of our Lord 1673. I, being the priest of our small parish, was called to attend upon him in his final hours as he did not wish to die unshriven. Matthew was most insistent that I write to you and explain that he did not die by his own hand. He told me that he had received a visitation on the night of 11th September, by whom he would not say, but whey-faced, turned to the wall and grew silent. Since this ‘visitation’ he unfortunately fell prey to the fit of nervous exhaustion from which he eventually succumbed. He spoke of other things, of his love for the sea and his regret for leaving his crew. He made me swear that I would send you this ring, which he told me was always to be yours, and to deliver this warning. James, do not return to the island by any circumstance or compulsion, 8
Pirate Plunder c August May 2019 2021
seek land half-a-world away if you can, but never return to that place. What else he said I cannot say, it is protected by the sanctity of the confessional. However, having heard his confession and looked into his haunted eyes, I would urge you to accede to your friend’s last request of you for the sake of your immortal soul. He wished a good Christian burial on hallowed ground and can be found interred at St Martin’s-on-the-Walls in Wareham, Dorset (Editor: see church above). Know that he died absolved of his sins and that as he passed into the arms of our Lord a perfect peace was upon him. Yours sincerely Reverend William Garner
For a long time I sat, numbly, staring at the ring and thinking. By the time my letter to Matthew arrived he’d already have passed and, yet knowing nothing of our troubles, he still saw fit to warn me off that cursed island. What visitation precipitated his demise? My gut tells me I’ll find out before I’m sailing clear waters again. I can see Davy’s head passing the lead-lighted windows with increasing frequency. Soon he’ll invent some excuse to come in and discover what news the letter brought. Tonight, we’ll stack the cannons and load our guns, three English volleys from the 9s and one French volley of small arms. Captain and crew will drink together, to the memory of my dear friend Captain Matthew Swinyard, the pirate’s pirate.
