Prison Ship

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Authors: Paul Dowswell
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much longer. Every breath I took, I thought would be the last before the rope tightened mercilessly around my windpipe. Sweet Jesus, get it over with. Why were they taking so long? Then I heard the Bosun pipe ‘Stand down’. Hands grabbed me and lifted me off the cathead. The hood and rope were snatched from my head.
    I glanced at Richard. He was white as a sheet, looking wildly around. What was happening? Shouldn’t we be dead by now?
    Captain Foley spoke again, loud and clear, for all the ship’s company to hear. ‘It is my solemn duty to pronounce that on the authority of the Admiral of the Fleet, the death sentence on Samuel Witchall and Richard Buckley has been commuted. In place of death they will be transported for life.’
    The crew gave a cheer. Oliver Pritchard looked flabbergasted. I looked him square in the face. If I get the chance, I thought, I shall kill you one day. Then the world faded from view and I felt a great whirling in my ears.
    Pain made me come to my senses. I must have fainted and hit my head on the deck. The next few minutes were a blur. Richard and I were bundled off the
Elephant
and on to a small boat. I must have looked as shocked as he did. He was unable to speak and could barely walk without two marines either side of him.
    When it dawned on me that our lives had been spared, I should have felt a great joy. Instead I was indifferent. I kept wondering if I was really dead. If all this was some strange hallucination. But the cold north wind blowing down on us seemed real enough.
    We were sculled over to a nearby frigate, the
Aeneas
, and thrown in a storeroom at the bottom of the ship. ‘We should be helping to sail her,’ I protested. ‘We’re wasted here, locked in the hold.’ I got a sharp rap with a rope for my troubles. Afterwards I felt stupid, butpeople say silly things when their minds are not working properly.
    Richard kept holding his neck and twisting it. He stared straight ahead and refused to speak. When our dinner time ration of bread and water arrived, he ignored it. I wolfed mine down and a feeling of euphoria came over me. I was still breathing, eating, drinking. We were not dead men after all. I would see another sunset. I might even see my mother and father and Rosie again. I spouted this all out to Richard, but he remained in a strange, blank state. Only in the evening did his countenance change. He ate his dreary rations then he became very angry. He picked up his empty mug and threw it hard against the wall. Then he began to shout. ‘What a dastardly, low-down, miserable, rotten bastard trick.’ He was beside himself.
    I was more philosophical. ‘I don’t know who pulled strings for us – Middlewych? Robert? Maybe even Foley himself?’ I suggested. Perhaps those with the power to reprieve us felt we needed to be sufficiently punished before they spared our lives?
    He shook his head and muttered, but I could see my words were making sense.
    â€˜And what’s this about transportation?’ he said.
    â€˜I’ve heard about that. They send you off to New South Wales.’
    Richard looked puzzled.
    â€˜New South Wales. You know, Botany Bay, New Holland,’ I said. ‘It’s called umpteen different things. I don’t know much about it other than that it’s on the other side of the world, and it’s very hot.’
    Richard looked close to despair. ‘But how will I ever get back to Massachusetts?’
    As he said it, it dawned on me that the very great distance would make it difficult for us to escape or even return as free men. If that had been our original sentence, I would have been devastated. But at this moment, anything seemed better than being dead and I was filled with curiosity. Richard returned to his sullen silence.
    Later on, one of the ship’s hands came to take away our plates and mugs. ‘I ’eard they ’ad you up to be ’anged,’ he said.

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