CHAPTER TWELVE
11 NOVEMBER 1720
Dear Father,
Jack and the crew of the Gallant remain dead drunk and useless now, some have drunk themselves to their death, and good riddance. We dumped all spirits overboard, in hopes the crew will become sober enough to flee the harbor.
Mary and I have completed our task ashore. Most importantly, Robert the cook died today. Sadly we had to bury him in the kirkyard of the old Helshire church which had recently burned down near Savanna. The cemetery is surrounded by a waist-high iron fence and a tall gate featuring twisted rails and spires, upon which is a shield engraved with a waterfall flowing from a cave surrounded by roses. We think he’d have liked that, since he had an affection for roses.
Please keep my letters and journal in a safe place. I hope
