John Smith is delivered to the Lady Charatza, his future mistress—He falls into kind hands and excites the Turkish Maiden’s interest—Her mother intervenes and he is sent to an outlying province—He finds a brutal master and is subjected to treatment “beyond the endurance of a dog”—He slays the cruel Timariot and escapes upon his horse—Wanders about for weeks and at length reaches a Christian settlement—Adventures in Africa—A trip to sea with Captain Merham—The Britisher fights two Spanish ships and holds his own—Smith renders good service in the fight and employs one of his novel “stratagems”—Return to England.

John Smith had never found himself in worse straits than now, as shackled to a fellow slave he tramped along the road between Axopolis and the Turkish capital. Hopeless as the situation seemed to be, he did not give himself up to despair, nor wear himself by repining over a condition which was beyond his power to remedy. He had learned from experience that the sun is apt to break through the clouds of the darkest day and when we are least expecting it. So, with the philosophy that is characteristic of the true soldier of fortune, he determined to await the turn of events with patience, and meanwhile found entertainment for his mind in a study of the strange people and places that came to his notice on the way. He has left an interesting account of these, but as they had no direct bearing upon the actual events of his life, we will pass them over.

The Pasha Bogall appears to have been a character somewhat like Sir John Falstaff, the hero of imaginary military exploits. He prepared the Lady Charatza—as Smith calls her—for the reception of his gift by a letter. In this fanciful missive the Giaour was described as a Bohemian nobleman whom the valiant Bogall had defeated in single combat and made prisoner. In his desire to exalt himself in the mind of his mistress, the Turk fell into two errors. He took it for granted that the slave and the Turkish damsel would be unable to converse with each other and he expatiated on Smith’s prowess in order to enhance by comparison his own valor in overcoming him.

The fair Charatza was naturally curious to see this noble and unfortunate slave for whom she could hardly fail to entertain feelings of compassion. When they met, the lady was more impressed than she would have cared to acknowledge by the bearing and address of the handsome captain. They found a ready means of communication in Italian which both understood and spoke with tolerable fluency. Questioned as to the combat in which the Pasha had defeated him, Smith laughed and declared that he had never set eyes on the doughty Turk until they met in the market place of Axopolis. As to being a Bohemian nobleman, he claimed no greater distinction than that of an English gentleman and a captain of horse.

Charatza did not doubt the truth of Captain Smith’s statement to her, but she caused inquiry to be made about him amongst the other captives who had been distributed here and there in the city. Thus she learned that her slave, whilst in truth no more than a captain in rank, was one of the most renowned soldiers in the army of the Emperor, and indeed had no equal among men of his age. The story of the three Turks reached her through the same sources and aroused admiration where curiosity and compassion had before been excited. The outcome was something like that in the story of Othello and Desdemona.

The Turkish lady, young and romantic, found the stories of Captain Smith’s adventures so interesting that she insisted upon his telling them over and over again. In order to enjoy this pleasure, without arousing criticism of her unusual familiarity with a male slave, she had him assigned to work in her private garden which formed a part of the extensive grounds attached to the mansion. There undisturbed, hours were spent daily by the captive in reciting to his fair owner stories of his varied experiences and in giving her accounts of different places and peoples in the wonderful world of which she knew almost nothing.

Thus several weeks passed and our hero, who was well fed and comfortably lodged meanwhile, fast regained his wonted strength and energy. It may be asked, why did he not attempt to escape? The thought of course entered his mind, but investigation soon satisfied him that the difficulties in the way were almost insurmountable. The place was surrounded by high walls which were guarded day and night by armed eunuchs. Smith had no clothes but his own nor any means of securing others. Even if he gained the streets he would be marked as a foreigner and suspected of being an escaped slave. Under the circumstances he determined to abide his time in the hope that his fair mistress might become willing to release him and aid in his escape.

But affairs took a turn that neither of the young people, who were beginning to feel a strong regard for each other, had looked for. The mother of Charatza, informed by a jealous Turkish servant of the meetings between her daughter and the Giaour, came upon them one day and expressed her indignation in stinging terms. She declared her determination to sell the English slave immediately and would have carried her threat into effect but for the suggestion of Charatza that the Pasha might not be pleased at such disposition of his gift. Finally a compromise was agreed upon. The brother of Charatza was a Timariot, that is a Turkish feudal chieftain, at Nalbrits, in a distant province. It was decided that Smith should be sent there, Charatza hoping to be able to contrive his return, and indeed having some idea that the captive might be induced to turn Muhammadan and enter the Sultan’s army.

So John Smith was sent to Nalbrits and at the same time Charatza despatched a letter to her brother in which she begged him to treat the young Englishman kindly and to give him the lightest sort of work. Any good effect that might have accrued from this well-intentioned but ill-advised letter was prevented by another which went forward at the same time. In it the Pasha’s mother told of the extraordinary interest Charatza had displayed in the infidel slave and expressed a suspicion that the young girl’s affections had become fastened upon him. This of course enraged the haughty and fanatical Turk and the unfortunate Smith immediately felt the weight of his new master’s displeasure. Within an hour of his arrival at Nalbrits he was stripped naked, his head and face were shaved “as smooth as the palm of his hand” and he was put into a garment of undressed goat-skin with an iron ring round his neck.

Our hero now entered upon a life too miserable for description and, as he expresses it, “beyond the endurance of a dog.” He was subjected to the hardest and vilest tasks and, being the latest comer among hundreds of slaves, became slave to the whole herd, for such was the custom which he was in no position to contest. He found his companions a poor lot, broken in body and spirit, and sunk in apathetic resignation to their condition. He endeavored to discover among them a few with sufficient courage and enterprise to plan an uprising, but soon abandoned the idea. It was clear that any chance that might arise for escape would be impaired by the co-operation of such hopelessly sunken wretches. During the months that he remained in this terrible bondage his main effort was to sustain his own spirits and to combat the tendency to fall into despair. Few men could have succeeded in this, but John Smith combined with great physical strength and the highest courage an unshakable trust in Providence. The event justified his confidence and he fully deserved the good fortune which ultimately befell him.

When he had been several months at Nalbrits, it happened that Smith was put to work on the threshing floor at a country residence of the Pasha. Here he labored with a long heavy club, the flail not being known to the people of those parts. The Pasha seems to have entertained a feeling of positive hatred for the slave, fanned no doubt by frequent letters from Charatza, who could have no knowledge of his condition. It was a favorite pastime with the Turk to stand over Smith whilst at his labor and taunt him. At such times, it was with the greatest difficulty that the captain restrained the desire to leap upon his persecutor and strangle him. He knew, however, that to have raised his hand against his cruel master would have entailed torture and probably a lingering death.

One morning the Pasha came into the barn where Smith was alone at work. The malicious Turk fell to sneering at his slave as usual and when the latter, goaded beyond endurance, replied with spirit, the Pasha struck him across the face with a riding whip. Smith’s threshing bat whistled through the air, and at the first blow the brutal Timariot lay dead at the feet of his slave. There was not an instant to be lost. It was by the merest chance that Smith was alone. The overseer might return at any moment. Stripping the body of the slain Pasha and hiding it under a heap of straw, Smith threw off his goat-skin and hurriedly donned the Turkish costume. He loosed the horse which the Turk had ridden to the spot, sprang into the saddle and galloped at random from the place.

Smith’s first impulse was to ride as fast as possible in the opposite direction to Nalbrits, and this he did, continuing his career until night overtook him. He entered a wood at some distance from the road and there passed the hours of darkness. He never failed to keep a clear head in the most critical emergencies and in the haste of departure had not neglected to secure the Pasha’s weapons and to snatch up a sack of corn from the threshing floor. The latter would preserve his life for some time and with the former he proposed to sell it dearly if overtaken. He had no idea as to what direction to take in order to reach a Christian community. Daybreak found him in this condition of perplexity, and he resumed his wandering flight with less impetuosity and a careful regard to avoid every locality that appeared to be inhabited. At a distance his costume might prove a protection, but on closer inspection a beholder could not fail to note the iron collar that proclaimed him a slave.

Smith had ridden about aimlessly for three days and nights, not knowing where he was nor how far from Nalbrits, when he suddenly chanced upon one of the great caravan roads that traversed Asia and connected with the main highways of Europe. He knew that if he followed this road far enough westward he must come eventually into some Christian country, but caution was more necessary than ever, for these were much travelled routes. He concluded to skirt the road by day and ride upon it only after dark. At the close of the fourth day after his escape he came to the meeting point of several crossroads and then learned the peculiar method employed by the people of those parts to direct travellers. The sign posts were painted with various designs to indicate the directions of different countries. For instance, a half moon pointed to the country of the Crim Tartars, a black man to Persia, a sun to China, and a cross—which our hero perceived with joy—distinguished the road leading to the Christian realm of Muscovy, the Russia of today.

After sixteen days’ riding, without encountering a mishap, Smith arrived safely at a Muscovite settlement on the Don where he was warmly received. The galling badge of bondage was filed from his neck and he felt then, but not before, once more a free man. His wants were supplied and he was furnished with sufficient money to enable him to continue his journey in comfort. He proceeded into Transylvania where his old comrades welcomed him as one from the grave, having lamented him as among the dead at Rothenthrum. The Earl of Meldritch was delighted to meet his old captain and “Master of Stratagem” once more and regretted that the existing state of peace prevented their fighting together again. That condition determined our hero to seek service in Africa where he heard that a war was in progress. Before his departure, Prince Sigismund presented him with fifteen hundred ducats, and so he set out with a well-filled purse and a light heart.

Captain Smith journeyed to Barbary in company with a French adventurer who, like himself, cared little where he went so that the excursion held out a prospect of fighting and new experiences. On this occasion, however, they were disappointed in their hope of military service. They found the conditions such as they were not willing to become involved in. The Sultan of Barbary had been poisoned by his wife, and two of his sons, neither of whom had a right to the succession, were contending for the throne. Our adventurers considered this state of things more akin to murder than to war and declined to take any part in it, although they might without doubt have enriched themselves by doing so.

Upon his return to the port of Saffi, Captain Smith found a British privateering vessel in the harbor under the command of a Captain Merham. An acquaintance sprang up between the two which quickly ripened into friendship. One evening, Smith with some other guests was paying a visit to the privateer, when a cyclone suddenly swept down upon them. Captain Merham barely had time to slip his cable before the hurricane struck his ship and drove it out to sea. All night they ran before the wind, and when at length the storm had ceased they were in the vicinity of the Canaries. The Captain wished to “try some conclusions,” after the manner of Captain La Roche on a former occasion, before returning to port. His guests were not averse to the proposal and so he hung about to see what vessels chance might throw in their way.

They were soon rewarded by intercepting a Portuguese trader laden with wine from Teneriffe. This they eased of its cargo and allowed to go its way. The next day they espied two sails some miles distant and proceeded to overhaul them. They did this with such success that they were within small-arm range of the ships before they perceived them to be Spanish men-of-war, either superior to themselves in armament and probably in men. Seeing himself so greatly overmatched, Merham endeavored to escape, and a running fight was maintained for hours. At length, towards sunset, the Spaniards damaged the Britisher’s rigging and coming up with him, boarded from either side. Merham’s ship must have been captured by the enemy, who greatly outnumbered his own men, but whilst the fight on deck was in progress, Captain Smith secured “divers bolts of iron”—cross-bars, probably—with which he loaded one of the guns. The charge tore a hole so large in one of the Spanish ships that it began to sink. At this both the attacking vessels threw off their grappling irons and withdrew.

The Spaniards were busy for two or more hours repairing the breach in their ship and Merham was occupied as long in putting his sailing gear in order, so that he could not profit by the damage to the enemy. When at length he did get under way the Spaniards were in condition to follow and the chase was continued all night. With the break of day the fight was resumed, but not before the Spanish senior officer had offered the British captain quarter if he would surrender. Merham answered this proposal with his cannon and hove to with the intention of fighting it out.

The Spaniards realized that they were no match for the Britisher in gun-play and they therefore lost no time in grappling. A fierce hand to hand conflict ensued and lasted for an hour with varying success, but the odds were beginning to tell against Merham’s men when their captain turned the tide by a clever stratagem. He sent some sailors aloft to unsling the mainsail and let it fall on the top of a number of Spaniards beneath. Whilst these were struggling to get clear of the canvas, about twenty of them were killed. This disheartening occurrence induced the attacking ships to disengage. The cannonading continued on both sides, however, and after a while the Spanish captains once more boarded with all the men available.

Again the combat raged at close quarters for an hour or more and again Merham’s men began to give way under the weight of superior numbers. This time it was Captain Smith who saved the situation by a desperate expedient. A number of Spaniards had gathered near the centre of the ship upon a grating which afforded them the advantage of an elevated station. Beneath this body of the enemy, our hero exploded a keg of powder. This had the effect of blowing about thirty Spaniards off the scene but at the same time it set fire to the ship. The flames sent the boarders scurrying back to their own vessels which sailed to a safe distance.

Whilst Merham was engaged in putting out the fire the Spaniards kept their guns playing upon him, ceasing only at intervals to make proposals for surrender, at all of which the British captain laughed. When the flames were extinguished he invited the Spanish officers with mock ceremony to come on board his vessel again, assuring them that Captain Smith was yearning to afford them further entertainment. But the Spaniards had no longer any stomach for boarding parties and contented themselves with firing at long range until nightfall when they sailed away.

Captain Merham took his crippled ship back to Saffi to undergo repairs and there our hero left him, after expressing his gratification for the diversion the privateersman had afforded him, and took ship for England.

THE AMERICAN COLONIST