“My husband invested his savings in a small schooner, which he named the Taunton and within a month of our marriage we were at sea, bound on a trading voyage to Tahiti and the Paumotus. This first venture proved very successful, so did the two following voyages; and then, as he determined to found a business of his own in the South Seas, he bought a large piece of land on this island from the natives, with whom he was on very friendly terms. His reasons for choosing this particular island were, firstly, because of its excellent situation—midway between Port Jackson and the Spanish settlements on the South American coast, which were good markets; secondly, because great numbers of the American whaling ships would make it a place of call to refresh if there was a reputable white man living on the island; and thirdly, because he intended to go into sperm whaling himself, for it was an immensely profitable business, and he could, if he wished, sell the oil to the American ships instead of taking it to Port Jackson. The natives here in those days were a very wild set, but they really had a great friendship and respect for my husband; and when they learnt that he intended to settle among them permanently they were delighted beyond measure. They at once set to work and built us a house, and the chief and my husband exchanged names in the usual manner.

“My first child was born on the island whilst my husband was away on a voyage to Port Jackson, and, indeed, of my four children three were born here. When Robert returned in the Taunton he brought with him a cargo of European stores and comforts for our new home, and in a few months we were fairly settled down. From the first American whaleships that visited us he bought two fine whaleboats and all the necessary gear, and then later on engaged one of the best whalemen in the South Seas to superintend the business. In the first season we killed no less than six sperm whales, and could have taken more, but were short of barrels. The whaling station was at the end of the south point of the harbour, and when a whale was towed in to be cut in and tried out the place presented a scene of great activity and bustle, for we had quite two hundred natives to help. Alas, there is scarcely a trace of it left now! The great iron try-pots, built up in furnaces of coral lime, were overgrown by the green jungle thirty years ago, and it would be difficult even to find them now.

“The natives, as I have said, were very wild, savage, and warlike; but as time went on their friendship for my husband and myself and children deepened, and so when Robert made a voyage to Port Jackson or to any of the surrounding islands I never felt in the least alarmed. I must tell you that we—my husband and myself—were actually the first white people that had landed to live on the island since the time of the Bounty mutiny, when Fletcher Christian and his fellow mutineers tried to settle here. They brought the Bounty in, and anchored her just where your own schooner is now lying—opposite Randle's house. But the natives attacked Christian and his men so fiercely, and so repeatedly, though with terrible loss to themselves, that at last Christian and Edward Young abandoned the attempt to found a settlement, and the Bounty went back to Tahiti, and finally to AfitÂ, as the people here call Pitcairn Islands.

“Four years passed by. My husband was making money fast, not only as a trader among the Paumotus and the Society Islands, where he had two small vessels constantly employed, but from his whale fishery. Then came a time of sorrow and misfortune. A South Seaman, named the Stirling Castle, touched here for provisions, and introduced small-pox, and every one of my poor children contracted the disease and died; many hundreds of the natives perished as well. My husband at this time was away in one of his vessels at Fakarava Lagoon in the Paumotu Group, and I spent a very lonely and unhappy seven months before he returned. Almost every morning, accompanied by one or two of my native women servants, I would ascend that rugged peak about two miles from here, from where we had a complete view of the horizon all round the island, and watch for a sail. Twice my heart gladdened, only to be disappointed again, for the ships on both occasions were Nantucket whalers. And then, as the months went by, I began to imagine that something dreadful had happened to my husband and his ship among the wild people of the Paumotus, for when he sailed he did not expect to be away more than three months.

“At last, however, when I was quite worn out and ill with anxiety, he returned. I was asleep when he arrived, for it was late at night, and his vessel had not entered the harbour, though he had come ashore in a boat. He awakened me very gently, and then, before I could speak to him and tell him of our loss, he said—

“'Don't tell me, Molly. I have heard it all just now. But, there, I'm home again, dear; and I shall never stay away so long again, now that our children have been taken and you and I are alone.'

“After another year had passed, and when I was well and strong again, the whaleship Chalice of Sag Harbour, Captain Freeman, touched here, and the master came on shore. He was an old acquaintance of my husband's, and told us that he had come ashore purposely to warn us of a piratical vessel which had made her appearance in these seas a few months before, and had seized two or three English and American ships, and murdered every living soul of their crews. She hailed from Coquimbo, and her captain was said to be a Frenchman, whilst her crew was composed of the worst ruffians to be found on the coast of South America—men whose presence on shore would not be tolerated even by the authorities at any of the Spanish settlements from Panama to Valdivia. Sailing under French colours, and professing to be a privateer, she had actually attacked a French merchant brig within fifty miles of Coquimbo Roads, the captain and the crew of which were slaughtered and the vessel plundered and then burnt. Since then she had been seen by several vessels in the Paumoto archipelago, where her crew had been guilty of the most fearful crimes, perpetrated on the natives.

“My husband thanked Freeman for his information; but said that if the pirate vessel came into Tubuai Lagoon she would never get out again, except under British colours. This was no idle boast, for not only were my husband's two vessels—which were then both at anchor in the lagoon—well armed, but they were manned by English or English-blooded half-caste seamen, who would have only been too delighted to fight a Frenchman, or a Spaniard, or a Dutchman.

“Ah, 'tis so long ago, but what brave, rough fellows they were! Some of them, we well knew, had been transported as convicts, and were, when opportunity offered, drunken and dissolute, but to my husband and myself they were good and loyal men. Two of them had seen Trafalgar day in the Royal Sovereign under Collingwood when that ship had closed with the Santa Anna and made her strike. Their names—as given to us—were James Watts and Thomas Godwin. After the fleet returned to England they got into mischief, and were transported for being concerned in a smuggling transaction at Deal, in Kent, in which a preventive officer was either killed or seriously wounded—I forget which. Their exemplary conduct, however, had gained them a remission of their sentences, and the Governor of New South Wales, who was most anxious to open up the South Sea Island trade, had recommended them to my husband as good men, Godwin having been brought up to the boatbuilding trade at Lowestoft in England, and Watts as a gunsmith.

“About ten days after the visit of the Chalice my husband left in one of his vessels for Vavitao—only a day's sail from here. He wanted me to go with him, but I was too much interested in a large box of English seeds, and some young fruit trees which the Governor of New South Wales had sent to us, and so I said I would stay and watch our garden, in which I took a great pride. He laughed and said that I must not forget to look out for 'Freeman's pirate' as well as for my garden. He never for one moment imagined that the French vessel would turn up at Tubuai.

“He took with him Thomas Godwin and William Myson, leaving Watts, who was master of the other vessel, with me, to attend to the whaling.

“A week after he had sailed I set out to walk to the north end of the island, where my children were buried. I had with me an active native boy named Tati—who was carrying some plants and seeds which I intended planting on and about the children's graves—and two young women. We started early in the morning, for I intended staying at the north end till late in the afternoon, whilst the two girls went crayfishing on the reef.

“About noon I had finished my labours, and then, as it was a beautifully bright day, I climbed a hill near by, called 'The White Man's Lookout,' which commanded a clear view of the sea all round the island. It had been given this name by the natives, who said that Fletcher Christian and his fellow-mutineer, Edward Young, had often ascended the hill and gazed out upon the ocean, for they were fearful that at any moment a King's ship might appear in pursuit of their comrades and themselves.

“I was again feeling somewhat anxious on account of my husband. He should have returned a week before, for there had been no bad weather, and I knew that his business at Vavitao should have kept him there only a day at the most. But the moment I gained the summit of the hill my heart leapt with joy, for there were two vessels in sight, one of which I at once recognised as my husband's. They were about a mile distant, and were running before the wind for the harbour. The strange vessel, which was a brigantine, was following close astern of our own schooner—evidently, I thought, my husband is showing her the way into the lagoon.

“Just as I was preparing to descend the hill my little companion, the native boy, Tati, drew my attention to four canoes which, in company with a boat from Captain Watts' schooner, were approaching the vessels.

“'Ah,' I thought, 'Watts has seen the vessels from the whaling station, and is going out to meet them.'

“But presently something occurred which filled me with terror. When the boat and canoes were quite close to the vessels, they both luffed, and fired broadsides into them; the boat and two canoes were evidently destroyed, and the two remaining canoes at once turned round and headed for the shore, the brigantine firing at them with guns which I knew to be long twenty-fours by the sharp sound they made. In a moment I knew what had happened—my husband's ship had been captured by the French privateer of which Captain Freeman had told us, and the Frenchmen were now coming to seize our other selves lying anchored in the lagoon.

“Tati looked at me inquiringly.

“'Run,' I said, 'run and tell Uasi (for so the natives called Captain Watts) that the master and his ship have been captured by an enemy, who will be upon him very quickly, for the boat and two of the canoes he has sent out have been destroyed, and every one in them killed. Tell him I am coming.'

“The boy darted away in a moment, and I followed him as quickly as I could; but Tati reached the harbour and was on board Watts' schooner quite half an hour before me, and when I went on board I found the vessel was prepared to defend the entrance to the harbour. Captain Watts had swung her broadside on to the entrance, boarding nettings were already triced up from stem to stern, and on the schooner's decks were fifty determined natives, in addition to the usual crew of twenty men, all armed with muskets and cutlasses. The four 6-pounders which she carried, two on each side, were now all on the port side, loaded with grape-shot, and in fact every preparation had been made to fight the ship to the last. Watts met me as soon as I stepped on board, and told me that before my messenger Tati had arrived to warn him he had heard the sound of the firing at sea, and at once surmised that something was wrong.

“'Soon after you left the house, Mrs. Eury, some natives sighted the two vessels to the north-east and I sent the boatswain and four men off in one of the whale-boats, little thinking that I was sending them to their death. Four canoes went with the boat. Just now two of the canoes came back with half of their number dead or wounded, and the survivors told me that as soon as they were within musket-shot both the ships opened fire on them, sunk the boat and two of the canoes with grape-shot, and then began a heavy musketry fire. I fear, madam, that Captain Eury and his ship——'

“'Your fears are mine, Watts,' I said, 'but whether my husband is alive or dead, let us at least try and save this vessel.'

“'Ay, ay, madam. And if we have to give up the ship, we can beat them off on shore. There are a hundred or more natives lying hidden at the back of the oil shed, and if the Frenchmen capture this vessel they will cover our retreat ashore. They are all armed with muskets.'

“We waited anxiously for the two ships to appear; but the wind had gradually died away until it fell a dead calm. Then a native runner hailed us from the shore, and said that both vessels had anchored off the reef, and were manning their boats.

“'All the better for us,* said Watts grimly; 'we'll smash them up quick enough if they try boarding. If they had sailed in, the Frenchman's long guns would have sunk us easily, and our wretched guns could not have done him much harm.' Then he went round the decks, and saw that the crew and their native allies were all at their proper stations.

“Presently he saw the boats—five of them—come round the point. Two of them we recognised as belonging to my husband's vessel, though they were, of course, manned by Frenchmen. They rowed leisurely in through the entrance till they were within musket-shot, and then the foremost one ceased rowing, and hoisted a white flag.

“'They want us to surrender without a fight,' said Watts, 'or are meditating some treachery,' and taking a musket from one of the crew he levelled it and fired in defiance. The bullet struck the water within a foot of the boat. The white flag, however, was held up higher by the officer in the stern. Watts seized a second musket, and this time his bullet went plump into the crowded boat, and either killed or wounded some one, for there was a momentary confusion. Then the white flag was lowered, and with loud cheers the five boats made a dash towards us. Telling the gunners to reserve their fire of grape until he gave the word, Watts and the natives now began a heavy musketry fire on the advancing boats, and although they suffered heavily the Frenchmen came on most gallantly. Then when the first two boats, which were pulling abreast, were within fifty yards' distance, Watts and a white seaman sprang to two of the guns and themselves trained them, just as I heard a native near me cry out that in the bows of each boat he could see a man—my husband and his chief mate, who were both bound. Before I could utter a warning cry to Watts, both of the guns belched out their volleys of grape, and with awful effect. The boats were literally torn to pieces, and their mangled occupants sank under the smooth waters of the lagoon; only two or three seemed to have escaped unwounded, and as they clung to pieces of wreckage our savage allies, with yells of fury, picked them off with their muskets; for the same native who had seen my husband bound in the boat had seen him sink.

“'No quarter to any one of them!' roared Watts when he heard this; 'the cowards lashed Captain Eury and poor Mr. Myson to the bows of the boats, and our own fire has killed them.'

“He sprang to the third gun, the white seaman to the fourth, and waited for the other three boats, which, undaunted by the dreadful slaughter, were dashing on bravely. Again the guns were fired, and again a united yell of delight broke from our crew when one of the boats was swept from stern to stern with the deadly grape and filled and sank. The two others, however, escaped, and in another moment were alongside, and the officer in command, followed by his men, sprang at the boarding nettings, and began hacking and slashing at them with their cutlasses, only to be thrust back, dead or dying, by our valiant crew, and the now blood-maddened natives. Nine or ten of them did succeed in gaining a foothold on the deck, by clambering up the bobstay on to the bowsprit, and led by a mere boy of sixteen, made a determined charge; a native armed with a club sprang at the youth and dashed out his brains, though at the same moment a Frenchman thrust him through the body with his cutlass. But the boarding party were simply overwhelmed by numbers, and in less than five minutes every one of those who had reached the deck were slaughtered with but a loss of three men on our side. Those still remaining in the boats alongside then tried to draw off, but Watts, who was now more like a mad animal than a human being, calling to some of the crew to help him, himself cut down the boarding netting, and lifting one of the 6-pounders, hurled it bodily into one of the boats, smashing a large hole through it. Then a score of naked natives leapt into the remaining one, and cut and stabbed the crew till not a living soul remained. Some indeed had tried to swim to the shore a few minutes earlier, but these poor wretches were met by canoes, and their brains beaten out with clubs. The memory of that awful day of carnage will be with me if I live to be a hundred.

“As soon as possible Watts and the carpenter restored some order among our native allies, who, according to their custom, were beheading and otherwise mutilating the bodies of the enemy. We found that we had lost four killed and had about thirteen wounded. Of those killed two were white men.

“Then taking with me half a dozen natives, I went off in one of our own boats to the spot where our grape-shot had sunk the boat in which the native had said he had seen my husband. The water was only about four fathoms deep, and we could clearly see numbers of bodies lying on the white sandy bottom. One by one they were raised to the surface and examined, and the fifth one raised was that of my poor husband. His arms were bound behind his back, and his chest and face were shattered by grape-shot.

“A wild fury took possession of me, but I could not speak. I could only point to the ship. We went back on board, and my husband's body was laid on deck for the crew to see.

“I hardly know what I did or said, but I do remember that Watts swore to me that I should be revenged, and in a few minutes I was seated beside him in one of our own boats with a pistol in my hand, and we, in company with thirty or forty canoes, were on our way to the ships anchored outside.

“What followed I cannot remember, but Watts told me that I was the first to spring up the side of the French brigantine, and that the captain, as I fired my pistol at him, struck off my hand with his sword, and was then himself cut down by the carpenter. There were but nine men on board, and these were soon disposed of by our men, who gave no quarter. My husband's vessel was in charge of but three of the enemy, and from them, when they surrendered, we heard that every one of her crew, except the mate Myson and my husband, had been cruelly slaughtered at Vavitao a few days previously. Watts tried to save the lives of these three men, but in vain; the natives killed them, in spite of all his efforts. They died bravely enough, poor wretches.

“Watts and the carpenter succeeded in saving my life, and the stump of my arm healed up very quickly, for I was always a strong and vigorous woman. When they came to search the cabin of the French brigantine they found that her captain—the man who had cut off my hand—was Louis Pellatier, the very same man who, years before, had attempted to shoot my poor husband at the Galapagos Islands.

“I sailed with Watts to Port Jackson a few months later in the French brigantine, which was sold as a prize, and remained there for nearly two years. Then the loneliness of my life began to affect my health, and so I returned here to live and die. And here on this island have I lived for nearly fifty years in peace and happiness, for since Randle and his family came here I have been very happy, and now I only await the last call of all—that call which will summon me to stand before the throne, side by side with my dear husband.”