FANFIC: Ad Infinitum - Chapter 2: Exsequor Exequor
Chapter 1 - Ad Interim
****
The pamphlets sold at a brisk rate for a penny a sheet. The crowd had begun assembling before sunrise, packing the streets leading to the fort, eager to see the pirates hang. One in particular held their fascination, for not only was she a woman, but a fallen woman at that, born to privilege that few could imagine, only to die like a common criminal. A carnival atmosphere pervaded the crowd, as the hawkers peddled everything from execution broadsides to bottles of ale.
In a one-day trial, the jury, with ample help from the panel of peri-wigged judges, had pronounced all twenty-one pirates guilty. Five were to be hung at Gallows’ Point, at Port Royal, the remaining were to be hung in nearby Kingston. Their sentence was pronounced thusly:
The Crime of Pyracy, of which all of ye have been justly convicted, is of all other Robberies the most aggravating & inhumane, in that being remov’d from the Fears of Surprize, in remote and distant Parts, ye do in Wantonness of Power often add Cruelty to Theft.
Pirates unmov’d at Distress or Poverty, not only spoil & rob, but do it from Men needy, and who are purchasing their Livelihoods thro’ Hazards & Difficulties, which ought rather to move Compassion; and what is still worse, do often Perswasion or Force, engage the inconsiderate Part of them, to their own & Families Ruin, removing them from their Wives & Children, and by that, from the Means that should support them from Misery & Want.
To a trading Nation, nothing can be so Destructive as Pyracy, or call for more exemplary Punishment; besides, the national Reflection it infirs: It cuts off the Returns of Industry, & those plentiful Importations that alone can make an Island flourishing; and it is your Aggravation, that ye have been the Chiefs & Rulers in these licentious & lawless Practices.
However, contrary to the Measures ye have dealt, ye have been heard with Patience, and though little has, or possibly could, have been said in Excuse or Extenuation of your Crimes, yet Charity makes us hope that a true & sincere Repentance (which we heartily recommend) may entitle ye to Mercy and Forgiveness, after the Sentence of the Law has taken place, which now remains upon me to pronounce.
You Elizabeth Swann, Moises Champnes, John du Frock, William Mangus, and Peter Scudamore. Ye & each of you, are adjudg’d & sentenc’d, to be carried back to the Place from whence you came, from thence to the Place of Execution, outside the walls of the Fort, and therein within the Flood-Marks, to be hanged by the Neck till ye are dead.
After this, ye, and each of you shall be taken down, and your Bodies hanged in Chains. And the Lord have Mercy on your Souls.
Pursuant to the sentence given by the Court of Admiralty, you are hereby directed to carry the aforementioned Malefactors to the Place of Execution, to Morrow Morning at Nine of the Clock, & so there within the Flood-Marks, cause them to be hanged by the Neck till they are dead, for which, this shall be your Warrant. Given under my Hand, this 28th Day of September 17**.
To Joseph Gordyn, Provost-Marshal.
The Bodies remove in Chains, to the Gibbets already erected on Deadman’s Cay.*
****
The guards came for them at dawn, prodding the condemned through the crowded streets down to the waterline, where the hastily built scaffold stood along the rocky shore. Watching the procession, led by a mounted officer carrying the symbolic silver oar of the Admiralty, were commoner and aristocrat alike, the latter perched on balconies along the way. The street crowd jeered, pelting the prisoners with rocks and filth as they shuffled in a ragged formation.
As the condemned were led forward, they could hear the hawkers peddling their dying words, printed the day before. Nothing but lies, the printers didn’t fear retaliation from rogues such as them, intent only on reaping a profit from their death. The crowd heckled as each of the pirates was led upon the scaffold, their arms trussed with ropes. A noose was placed around the neck of each of the convicted, their feet purposely left loose, to afford the “dance upon air” the drunken crowd savored.
A short prayer was offered, the scaffolding released and the condemned were launched into eternity. After they hung for the prescribed length of time, they were declared dead, their now cold bodies slathered in hot tar and fitted into specially built iron gibbets, to be taken by boat to Deadman’s Cay, to hang as a dread warning courtesy of the Admiralty to any sailor contemplating the merry life of piracy.
****
“We just can’t leave her there, mate.”
Jack paced the deck of the Black Pearl, his half-hung quartermaster trailing along step-for-step.
“It’s fool’s folly, Jack.” Gibbs swallowed hard, feeling the noose tightening around his throat once again. “There are bound t’ be guards, and as much as I was fond of Elizabeth, I see no reason t’ be courtin’ death by sailin’ back t’ the place I were delivered from.”
Jack turned, a whirling dervish, his hands painting his emotions in the space between them. “Don’t you see? She can’t pass on, not while she is there, on land.”
“Pass on?” Gibbs’ brow furrowed. “You mean, her soul is…”
“Left to wander, aye.” Jack pointed a finger at Gibbs. “Same as yours would be, if they hadn’t put t’ sea with you.”
Gibbs rubbed his neck, still raw and swollen from the rope’s grip. Fortuna had smiled on him that day; he wasn’t too keen about testing her again.
“It’s the least I can do.” Jack frowned, staring at the distant horizon.
It had been three days, since Gibbs had woke to find himself on the deck of the Black Pearl, a ship purported to have been lost in a hurricane earlier that summer. The explanation had been as bizarre as the awakening itself, not that Gibbs remembered much of it. Apparently, he’d been aboard the Flying Dutchman, only to have been discovered to be not quite as dead as believed.
“But how’d you get the Pearl back?” Gibbs had asked, once reassured that he was indeed alive and not a ghost, on a ghost ship.
“Long story, mate.” Jack had flashed his familiar golden grin. “Suffice to say, I was given a gift in gratitude.” His grin had faded though, when he was told the fate of the pirate king.
Now, it seemed Jack was determined to return that favor, by way of retrieving Elizabeth’s body, to allow her a proper burial at sea. As he told Gibbs, in a grim voice, “It’s the least I can do.”
****
*The actual wording of a trial, along with the broadsheet, adapted for this story. The original can be found here.
****
The pamphlets sold at a brisk rate for a penny a sheet. The crowd had begun assembling before sunrise, packing the streets leading to the fort, eager to see the pirates hang. One in particular held their fascination, for not only was she a woman, but a fallen woman at that, born to privilege that few could imagine, only to die like a common criminal. A carnival atmosphere pervaded the crowd, as the hawkers peddled everything from execution broadsides to bottles of ale.
In a one-day trial, the jury, with ample help from the panel of peri-wigged judges, had pronounced all twenty-one pirates guilty. Five were to be hung at Gallows’ Point, at Port Royal, the remaining were to be hung in nearby Kingston. Their sentence was pronounced thusly:
The Crime of Pyracy, of which all of ye have been justly convicted, is of all other Robberies the most aggravating & inhumane, in that being remov’d from the Fears of Surprize, in remote and distant Parts, ye do in Wantonness of Power often add Cruelty to Theft.
Pirates unmov’d at Distress or Poverty, not only spoil & rob, but do it from Men needy, and who are purchasing their Livelihoods thro’ Hazards & Difficulties, which ought rather to move Compassion; and what is still worse, do often Perswasion or Force, engage the inconsiderate Part of them, to their own & Families Ruin, removing them from their Wives & Children, and by that, from the Means that should support them from Misery & Want.
To a trading Nation, nothing can be so Destructive as Pyracy, or call for more exemplary Punishment; besides, the national Reflection it infirs: It cuts off the Returns of Industry, & those plentiful Importations that alone can make an Island flourishing; and it is your Aggravation, that ye have been the Chiefs & Rulers in these licentious & lawless Practices.
However, contrary to the Measures ye have dealt, ye have been heard with Patience, and though little has, or possibly could, have been said in Excuse or Extenuation of your Crimes, yet Charity makes us hope that a true & sincere Repentance (which we heartily recommend) may entitle ye to Mercy and Forgiveness, after the Sentence of the Law has taken place, which now remains upon me to pronounce.
You Elizabeth Swann, Moises Champnes, John du Frock, William Mangus, and Peter Scudamore. Ye & each of you, are adjudg’d & sentenc’d, to be carried back to the Place from whence you came, from thence to the Place of Execution, outside the walls of the Fort, and therein within the Flood-Marks, to be hanged by the Neck till ye are dead.
After this, ye, and each of you shall be taken down, and your Bodies hanged in Chains. And the Lord have Mercy on your Souls.
Pursuant to the sentence given by the Court of Admiralty, you are hereby directed to carry the aforementioned Malefactors to the Place of Execution, to Morrow Morning at Nine of the Clock, & so there within the Flood-Marks, cause them to be hanged by the Neck till they are dead, for which, this shall be your Warrant. Given under my Hand, this 28th Day of September 17**.
To Joseph Gordyn, Provost-Marshal.
The Bodies remove in Chains, to the Gibbets already erected on Deadman’s Cay.*
****
The guards came for them at dawn, prodding the condemned through the crowded streets down to the waterline, where the hastily built scaffold stood along the rocky shore. Watching the procession, led by a mounted officer carrying the symbolic silver oar of the Admiralty, were commoner and aristocrat alike, the latter perched on balconies along the way. The street crowd jeered, pelting the prisoners with rocks and filth as they shuffled in a ragged formation.
As the condemned were led forward, they could hear the hawkers peddling their dying words, printed the day before. Nothing but lies, the printers didn’t fear retaliation from rogues such as them, intent only on reaping a profit from their death. The crowd heckled as each of the pirates was led upon the scaffold, their arms trussed with ropes. A noose was placed around the neck of each of the convicted, their feet purposely left loose, to afford the “dance upon air” the drunken crowd savored.
A short prayer was offered, the scaffolding released and the condemned were launched into eternity. After they hung for the prescribed length of time, they were declared dead, their now cold bodies slathered in hot tar and fitted into specially built iron gibbets, to be taken by boat to Deadman’s Cay, to hang as a dread warning courtesy of the Admiralty to any sailor contemplating the merry life of piracy.
****
“We just can’t leave her there, mate.”
Jack paced the deck of the Black Pearl, his half-hung quartermaster trailing along step-for-step.
“It’s fool’s folly, Jack.” Gibbs swallowed hard, feeling the noose tightening around his throat once again. “There are bound t’ be guards, and as much as I was fond of Elizabeth, I see no reason t’ be courtin’ death by sailin’ back t’ the place I were delivered from.”
Jack turned, a whirling dervish, his hands painting his emotions in the space between them. “Don’t you see? She can’t pass on, not while she is there, on land.”
“Pass on?” Gibbs’ brow furrowed. “You mean, her soul is…”
“Left to wander, aye.” Jack pointed a finger at Gibbs. “Same as yours would be, if they hadn’t put t’ sea with you.”
Gibbs rubbed his neck, still raw and swollen from the rope’s grip. Fortuna had smiled on him that day; he wasn’t too keen about testing her again.
“It’s the least I can do.” Jack frowned, staring at the distant horizon.
It had been three days, since Gibbs had woke to find himself on the deck of the Black Pearl, a ship purported to have been lost in a hurricane earlier that summer. The explanation had been as bizarre as the awakening itself, not that Gibbs remembered much of it. Apparently, he’d been aboard the Flying Dutchman, only to have been discovered to be not quite as dead as believed.
“But how’d you get the Pearl back?” Gibbs had asked, once reassured that he was indeed alive and not a ghost, on a ghost ship.
“Long story, mate.” Jack had flashed his familiar golden grin. “Suffice to say, I was given a gift in gratitude.” His grin had faded though, when he was told the fate of the pirate king.
Now, it seemed Jack was determined to return that favor, by way of retrieving Elizabeth’s body, to allow her a proper burial at sea. As he told Gibbs, in a grim voice, “It’s the least I can do.”
****
*The actual wording of a trial, along with the broadsheet, adapted for this story. The original can be found here.