A Journey to the Coast – The Author Leaves the Country – His Return to England
I had always felt a strong impulse that I would one day recover my liberty, though I could not imagine how such a thing might be achieved. No other ship had ever been seen near that coast, and the King had given strict orders that if another vessel appeared, it should be seized and its crew brought to the capital. He was determined to find me a mate of my own size so that I might "propagate the breed." However, I would rather have died than leave behind a family of children to be kept in cages like pet birds, eventually sold as curiosities to the nobility. Although the King and Queen treated me with immense kindness, I was a favorite in the same way a clever animal might be. I longed to be among people with whom I could converse as an equal and walk the streets without the constant fear of being stepped on like a frog.
After I had been in the country for two years, I accompanied the King and Queen on a journey to the south coast. As usual, I traveled in my specially designed box, a comfortable room twelve feet wide. I had requested a hammock suspended by silken ropes to soften the jolts of the road while a servant carried me on horseback. On the roof, I had a small trapdoor that I could slide open to let in fresh air.
When we reached our destination, the King decided to stay at a palace near the city of Flanflasnic, eighteen miles from the sea. My young nurse, Glumdalclitch, was quite exhausted and had caught a cold, forcing her to stay in her room. I, too, pretended to be unwell, claiming that the sea air would do me good. In reality, I longed to look at the ocean, as I knew it was my only possible path to escape. Glumdalclitch reluctantly allowed a young page to take me to the shore. I will never forget her tears as we left; it was as if she had a premonition of what was to happen.
The boy carried my box to the rocks by the seaside. I told him I intended to nap in my hammock, so he shut the window to keep out the cold. While I slept, the boy apparently wandered off to look for birds' eggs among the cliffs. Suddenly, I was awakened by a violent pull on the iron ring at the top of my box. I felt myself being lifted high into the air and carried forward with incredible speed. Looking through the windows, I could see nothing but clouds and sky. Above me, I heard the rhythmic flapping of massive wings and realized the terrifying truth: a giant eagle had snatched my box in its beak. I assumed it intended to drop me onto a rock, as eagles do with tortoises, so it could feast on my body.
Soon, the flapping grew louder and the box began to toss violently. I heard several heavy blows, as if the eagle were being attacked by rivals. Suddenly, I felt myself falling perpendicularly with such speed that I lost my breath. My fall ended with a thunderous splash—a sound louder than the greatest waterfall—and I was plunged into darkness.
When the box resurfaced, I realized I was floating in the ocean. The iron plates on the bottom kept the box upright, and the tightly grooved joints prevented most of the water from leaking in. I sat in my floating prison for four hours, expecting every moment to be my last. I thought of poor Glumdalclitch and how she would suffer for my loss. Just as I was losing hope, I heard a grating noise against the side of the box. It felt as if I were being towed.
I stood on a chair and shouted for help in every language I knew. I even thrust my handkerchief through the air-hole on the roof, waving it frantically. Eventually, I felt the box being hoisted up. Then, to my absolute joy, I heard a voice call out in English: "If there be anybody below, let them speak!"
I shouted back that I was an Englishman in the midst of a terrible calamity. I begged them to deliver me from my "dungeon." The voice assured me I was safe and said a carpenter would soon saw a hole in the roof to let me out. In my confusion, I told them to simply "put a finger into the ring" and lift the box onto the ship’s deck. Hearing this, some of the sailors laughed, thinking I was mad. I had been among giants for so long that I had forgotten I was now back among people of my own stature.
Once I was pulled out, I found myself on a ship surrounded by sailors who looked like pygmies to me. The captain, Mr. Thomas Wilcocks, saw that I was about to faint and took me to his cabin. He gave me a restorative drink and let me rest in his own bed. Before I slept, I told him about the "valuable furniture" in my box, suggesting his men bring the whole closet into the cabin. The captain, convinced I was raving, simply humored me. As I later learned, his men had gone into the box, taken my goods, and stripped the silk quilting from the walls, eventually letting the heavy wooden shell sink into the sea.
When I awoke and had supper with the captain, he asked me to explain my travels and how I came to be adrift in such a "monstrous wooden chest." At first, he suspected I was a criminal who had been set adrift as punishment. To prove my veracity, I opened my small cabinet and showed him the "rarities" I had collected: a comb made from the stumps of the King's beard, needles the size of spears, and a gold ring the Queen had given me, which was large enough to be a collar for me. I even showed him a giant's tooth, which he examined with great curiosity.
The captain was finally convinced of my story. He remarked on how loudly I spoke, asking if the King and Queen of that land were hard of hearing. I explained that after two years of shouting up at giants, I had forgotten how to speak at a normal volume. To me, the captain and his crew seemed to be whispering, and their tiny dishes and cups looked like dollhouse toys.
Our voyage back to England was prosperous. We doubled the Cape of Good Hope and eventually arrived in the Downs on June 3rd, 1706. When I stepped onto land, everything looked strangely small. As I traveled home, I was afraid of trampling on the people I met and constantly shouted for them to "get out of the way," which nearly led to several fights.
When I reached my house, I acted even more strangely. I bent down to go through the door, fearing I would hit my head. When my wife ran to embrace me, I stooped down to her knees, thinking she could never reach my mouth otherwise. I looked down at my daughter and the servants as if they were tiny insects. My wife and friends were convinced I had lost my wits, but in time, we came to a right understanding. This experience taught me the incredible power of habit and how easily our perspectives can be altered. Although my wife protested that I should never go to sea again, my destiny had other plans—but that is a story for another time.