CHAPTER TWO
1718 – FIFE, SCOTLAND
It was twilight and a blustery day, with rain threatening. The fancy carriage came to a stop outside the modest bungalow. The coachman jumped off to lower the step on the side and open the door. He did so as rain drops started to fall. A tall, middle-aged man wearing a fancy white wig stepped out of the carriage and down the steps. He was wearing a royal blue jacket with white fluffy shirt and matching breeches. His tights were crisp white and he wore expensive leather shoes with large silver buckles on the top.
“Thank you Charles,” the man said to the coachman who was fussing. “That will be all for now. Please take yourself and the boy to the pub and have a wee pint o’beer for an hour or so while I speak to this gentleman.’”
The door had already opened and the owner of the bungalow stood waiting. Charles danced back and forth uncertainly.
“But the horses Milord. They be getting wet.”
“Ah, Mr. Selkirk, the tall man said, “can we impose on you to place the horses in your barn fer a wee bit.” The man in the cottage nodded his head somewhat sullenly and Charles unhooked the horses and led them into the barn and hooked them again at the water trough.
“Okay then Charles that is taken care of, off wi’yea.”
Charles turned and he and the page trotted off to the local pub for a pint and a sandwich. The tall man bent low and stepped into the cottage.
The man inside said gruffly “I hadn’t much to offer yea excepting whiskey, but it is good Scottish stuff and so maybe that will be good enough for your English self.”
The tall man sat down and nodded amiably; ‘Aye, Scottish whiskey is the best and I would be obliged to ye sir.”
The man, a sailor, with a weathered face and a wiry body poured the drinks into two metal cups and plunked them down and the wooden table. The tall man nodded graciously and asked “Ye mind if I smoke a bit?”
“Aye, don’t mind if yea do, might have one me self.” Thomas Selkirk went over to the fireplace and stoked the fire a bit and got his own pipe and tobacco and sat down.
“Would yea believe that I kept this very same pipe the entire time I was bestranded on the island?” He looked at the pipe respectfully, “Aye,” he said almost to himself, ”it kept me company some long nights when they weren’t no one else around.” He sighed.
“Tell me,” asked the tall man, “do you miss the island?”
Selkirk gave a sigh and looked up almost like he was seeing something in his mind’s eye. “Aye,” he said softly, “when the rain be coming down and the wind as is coming around the corner and there is naught to eat other than dried beef and potatoes, yeah, I does find meself missing it. The fruit and the sun mostly.” He came to himself and looked at the tall man sharply.
“What’s you be wanting me fer, a fancy noble such as yerself? Driving all the way up to Fife from Edinburgh, it be a long way.”
The tall man nodded, “Indeed, indeed. No question about that.” In truth the distance of fourteen miles was not the longest journey he had ever taken but these roads! His backside could still feel the bumps and ruts. “No, I am a bit of historian as it were, and I have heard tell of your marvelous story of being shipwrecked on a small island and I wanted to see for me self if it wor true or not.”
Daniel Defoe was an Englishman born and bred sent up north to Scotland by members of the English government as a political appointee. In an effort to fit in with the locals, he has taken to adopting some of their colloquial phrases and ways of saying things so as to fit in.
“Oh, it be true alright, it be true….” Selkirk’s voice trailed off and he was looking again at some distant point.
Defoe watched the man, interested. “Well, I am very inclined to hear your account. Would you mind very much if I took a few notes?" he pulled out a paper and pencil.
Selkirk looked at him suspiciously, “Notes?”
“Just to keep the dates straight and so forth,” Defoe replied casually.
Selkirk reconsidered. His wife in the corner gave him an intense look. “Oh, alright if you must. Aye, the wife be nodding her head off. Can we offer yea some sup sir?”
“Ah,” replied Defoe, “delighted.”
Hours later, Defoe carefully placed the notes in an interior pocket of his jacket so as to not get them wet. Charles and the page had returned from the local pub, well fed and brimming with local gossip.
Defoe thanked his host profusely and added “Might we bother you once more on the morrow for a few more of yea marvelous tales of da island?”
Selkirk looked uncertain.
“The lads and I will be staying at the local pub for the night and if it won’t be too much bother.”
Selkirk’s wife was nodding vigorously in the background again. He paused, reluctant to agree.
“We can compensate you for your time should you wish, sir,” said Defoe softly.
“Money!” said Selkirk abruptly, “Na, na, t’will not be necessary. Ah, ok, tomorrow then. But, not too much time mind you. I have duties to attend too you know.”
Defoe nodded courteously, “I understand completely, just a wee bit o’time then tomorrow and I thank yea and yea goodly wife again for the kindly meal.”
Defoe took his leave and Charles and the page having gotten the horses rehooked to the carriage; they returned to the local pub where they would spend the night.
Once the horses were secured for the night and the landlord’s lad confirmed they would be properly fed and watered, Defoe sat down with a pint with Charles in the pub.
“So, “he asked quietly, “what is the local gossip on our fare-thee-well traveler/sailor?”
Charles reveled in his role as valet and part-time information agent for Milord Defoe. He rubbed his hands together.
“Well,” he started almost gleefully, “seems as our Mr. Alexander has a reputation in the local area as a bit of a lad.” Defoe nodded and sipped his beer.
“Okay then, he was always having trouble here, even as a boy, in trouble with this and that all the time.”
“He’s from Fife then, originally?”
“Yes, Milord, this be his home ground. Anyway, it was when he was boy and got into trouble with the local authorities that he took himself to sea and became a sailor. I suppose to avoid jail time.” Defoe nodded.
“It was on one such of these trips that he got to arguing with the captain of the ship he were on; the Cinque Ports. He allowed as how the ship ware leaking and should a’been repaired on the island they stopped at. This went on and on with the captain not agreeing with him. Finally he says, he says, I would rather be stuck on this island than be sailing on this leaking bucket. The captain, a Captain Stradling; fair fed up with himself says ‘Fine, there you are! It’s to the island for you!’ They packed up all his gear and gave him a gun and rations and just left him there.
Defoe chuckled and then laughed out loud. He choked a bit on his pipe smoke; he had pulled out his pipe. “Yes, yes, I think I can see that happening. He is a bit of a quarrelsome one, this Selkirk is.” He nodded for Charles to continue.
“So, long and short of it; they left him on this deserted island way down off Chile, South America and sailed away. He was there, all by himself over four years!’
Defoe nodded and pulled out his notes. “Yes, that matches what he was telling me. Four years and four months actually. He laughed again. “Continue my good Charles.”
Charles took a sip of his beer. “Apparently, this island, Mas a Tierra, was used for ships to restock provisions and one of the captains from the original voyage what Selkirk was on, William Dampier, stopped at the island again and they found him and brought him back home to Scotland.”
Defoe nodded and consulted his notes again. “Yes, yes, that all appears to be the case. What a story, what a remarkable story.” He shook his head and smoked a bit.
“So what happens to our man now, I wonder?” he asked.
“Well, the landlord,” Charles said quietly, “doesn’t really care that much for the man but tolerates him on account of he be a bit of a local celebrity and all. He said Selkirk be shipping out again pretty soon on another ship.”
Defoe nodded. “Best we get all we can from him then, afore he is gone again. Hmm,” he was thoughtful. “Charles, the man won’t accept argent for his time, what can we give to him and his poor wife to make up for his time?”
Charles thought a moment, “Ah, of course, whiskey, the nectar of the Gods. That and beer is what they be drinking around these parts. Methinks the landlord may have some stored we can buy and take with us tomorrow. “
“Good, good,” nodded Defoe, “good thinking Charles. Arrange that with the landlord and we’ll be back there tomorrow and I will try to wrest the remainder of the story from our good sailor before he is off to the wilds of the world again. Now, I be off to bed, I am exhausted.” With that, Defoe got up to go upstairs and undress. Jimmy the page was sitting on a stool waiting for the master to return to undress him. “Jimmy, what the fool are you doing still up?” He wanted to know.
“I be waiting for his Lordship to return to get ready for bed,” the kid replied, he was about twelve.
“Off with yea,” Defoe waving his arm in the air, I can do for myself.” Amazed at his good luck, the boy scampered off downstairs.
Tiredly, Defoe started to pull off his jacket and clothes. He plopped down on the fluffy bed and started to take off his shoes and stockings. This Selkirk was really something; it was easy to see the man was argumentative and could be quick to anger. But there was something about him; time and experience perhaps had changed him and made him somehow into a different person. He had told Defoe his only reading material on island was a Bible which he read out loud to himself every day.
Apparently, also, his faith, he had told Defoe, which had always been there grew incredibly stronger on the island when he realized he had to thank God every day for his continued existence given the many perils and dangers inherent on the island.
Defoe shook his head. This story was something, really something. He was thinking about using it in another book, perhaps. It would be different than the stuff he usually wrote; political pamphlets and tracks about government issues. That was his job really, in Scotland, writing articles to persuade public opinion in favor of the British government. And, he was good at it too. He sighed; he did get tired of politics from time to time. Something a little different. He could see something in Selkirk’s eyes when he talking about his little island; the man did miss it, he did. “Hmm,” Defoe thought to himself. “Hmm,” and he went to bed.