Soon after the Dolphin arrived in Charleston the crew were discharged,
with the exception of one of the seamen and myself. We retained our
quarters in the brig. Mr. Thompson, the mate, took passage in a vessel
for Boston, and not long afterwards sailed from Portsmouth in command of
a ship. Captain Tilton took up his residence at a fashionable boarding
house, and I seldom had any communication with him. I supposed, as a
matter of course, that he would soon enter on another voyage, and I
should go with him. In the meantime, having provided me with a temporary
home, he left me to associate with whom I pleased, and struggle
single-handed against the many temptations to which a young sailor in a
strange maritime city is always exposed.
About a week after our arrival in Charleston, as I was passing through
one of the principal streets, clad in strict sailor costume, I met a
good-looking gentleman, who, to my surprise, accosted me with great
politeness, his pleasant features lighted up with a benevolent smile,
and inquired if I had not recently returned from a voyage to sea. Upon
being assured that such was the case, he remarked that he liked my
appearance, and doubted not I was a smart, capable lad, who would be
a valuable acquisition to the crew of a good ship. I was flattered and
pleased with the conduct of this genteel looking stranger, convinced
that he was a person of good judgment and nice discrimination. He
further informed me, with a patronizing air, that he was the captain of
a fine fast-sailing vessel, bound on a pleasant voyage, and should be
delighted to number among his crew some active and intelligent young
men, like myself. He even went so far as to say he was so well satisfied
with my appearance, that if I would accompany him to a counting-room on
an adjoining wharf, he would ship me without asking further questions,
and advance a month's wages on the spot. But the amount he offered as
monthly wages was so much greater than I, being but little better than
a very green hand, had a right to expect, that a person acquainted with
human nature would have suspected this pleasant-spoken gentleman to have
some other reason for his conduct than admiration of my appearance and
interest in my welfare. I was eager to place myself at once under the
protection of my new friend; yet I could not forget that I was still
under the care of my kinsman, Captain Tilton, and that it would
be neither decorous nor proper to make this new engagement without
consulting him. But I did not for a moment doubt he would give his
consent to the proposed arrangement, and he rejoiced to get me fairly
off his hands.
I communicated my objections to the stranger, but assured him that I
would meet him in the afternoon at the place he designated, and in all
probability sign "the articles." He seemed, nevertheless, disappointed
at the result of the interview, and bidding me not fail to come, turned
away, and walked slowly towards the wharf.
As I left this kind-hearted stranger, brim full of newborn confidence
and hope, and exulting in the fact that I had fallen in with a man of
influence and position, who could appreciate my merit, I met a couple
of sailors of my acquaintance, who had been standing at a corner of the
street witnessing our interview, with which they seemed greatly amused.
One of the sailors, with a deficiency of respect for my would-be patron
which I could not approve, said, "Hawser, what were you talking with
that fellow about?"
I explained, with great glee and at full length, the nature of our
conversation to which they greedily listened, winking mysteriously at
each other. When I had concluded, they indulged in a hearty laugh.
It was some time before they could sufficiently restrain their merriment
to enlighten me on the cause of their mirth. I was then told, to my
mortification, that my kind friend, the GENTLEMAN on whose benevolence
and protection I had already built hopes of success in life, was neither
more nor less than the captain of an armed clipper brig, a SLAVER,
anchored in the outer roads, which had been for a fortnight ready for
sea, but was detained in consequence of the desertion of three several
crews, who had been induced by false representations to ship, and had
deserted EN MASSE as soon as they learned the true character of the
vessel and the voyage. He was now using all possible means to entrap
a crew of men or boys for this abominable traffic, and was by no means
particular in his choice.
This was a severe blow to my vanity. I felt not a little indignant
at being so easily cajoled, played upon, and almost kidnapped by
this unprincipled scoundrel. It was a valuable lesson, however; for
experience is a good, although expensive teacher.
A few days passed away, when, one morning about three o'clock, as some
members of the city patrol were passing through Church Street, they
discovered a man, apparently n a dying state, lying in the street. He
was conveyed to the guard house, or patrol station, where he died in
the course of half an hour, without being able to articulate a syllable.
Several wounds in different parts of his body, made by a small penknife,
which was subsequently found, were undoubtedly the cause of his death.
The unfortunate man thus murdered was the captain of the slaver, who
had sought to entrap me by his honeyed words. A pool of blood was on the
spot on which he was first discovered, and his steps could be traced
by the blood on the pavements for several rods. The marks of blood were
found only in the middle of the street; and none of the persons residing
in that part of the city heard any disturbance, brawl, or cries for
assistance in the course of the night.
The mysterious tragedy caused a great excitement. The police were
unceasing in their efforts to discover the circumstances connected with
this assassination, but in vain. The veil which concealed it was not
lifted, and no clew was ever given by which even conjecture could
develop the mystery.
It was supposed by some that the unfortunate man fell a victim to the
rage of a jealous husband whose honor he had outraged, or of a lover
whose affections he had supplanted. Others thought the fatal injuries
he received were the result of a drunken quarrel, commenced in a gaming
house; while many believed that private revenge inflicted the stabs,
which, from their number and direction, appeared to have been given
under the influence of ungovernable fury. Some thought the wounds were
inflicted by a vigorous man, others, that a woman had imbrued her hands
in his blood.
The first, and perhaps most natural supposition, was that some
negro, knowing the character of the voyage which the murdered man
had contemplated, had taken this desperate mode of arresting his
proceedings. This theory, however, was soon generally abandoned for
another. It was suggested that one of the sailors who had shipped in the
slaver and subsequently deserted, knowing the captain was seeking them
in every direction, had met him in the street, and fearful of being
arrested, or seeking to revenge a personal wrong, had committed the
terrible crime. This hypothesis was, doubtless, as false as either of
the others, and more absurd. It was, nevertheless, adopted by the city
authorities, and promptly acted upon, with a disregard to the rights
of individuals which seems strangely at variance with republican
institutions. The police force was strengthened, and on the evening
succeeding the discovery of the murder received orders to arrest and
place in confinement every individual seen in the streets wearing the
garb of a sailor. This arbitrary edict was strictly enforced; and Jack,
on leaving his home in the forecastle or a boarding house to visit
the haunts of dissipation, or perhaps to attend to some pressing and
important duty, was pounced upon by the members of the city guard,
and, much to his astonishment and anger, and maugre his struggles,
expostulations, and threats, was carried off without any assigned
reason, and securely placed under lock and key.
Some two or three hundred of these unoffending tars were caught,
captured, cribbed, and confined. No respect was paid to age, color or
nation. They were huddled together in rooms of very moderate dimensions,
which precluded, for one night at least, any idea of rest or comfort;
and such a confusion of tongues, such anathemas against the city
officials, such threats of vengeance, such rare specimens of swearing,
singing, and shouting, varied occasionally by rough greetings and jeers
whenever a new squad of blue jackets was thrust in among them,
would have commanded the admiration of the evil dwellers in Milton's
Pandemonium.
This arbitrary measure failed of success. The kidnapped sailors, on the
following day, were separately examined in the presence of the mate of
the brig, but no reasons were found for detaining a single individual.
A few days after this occurrence, Captain Tilton told me he had sold
the brig Dolphin to a Captain Turner, of New York, a worthy man and his
particular friend; that Captain Turner intended proceeding immediately
to some neutral port in the West Indies. The non-intercourse act, at
that time, prohibited all trade to places belonging to either of the
great belligerent powers. He also said he had made no arrangements in
regard to himself; that he was undecided what course to pursue, and
might remain on shore for months. Anxious, however, to promote my
interest by procuring me active employment, he had stipulated with
Captain Turner that I should have "a chance" in the Dolphin, on her
next voyage, before the mast. I had not a word to say against this
arrangement, but gave my cheerful consent, especially as it was
represented that Captain Turner would "treat me with kindness, and help
me along in the world."
I was thus unceremoniously dismissed by Captain Tilton from his charge.
Under the plea of promoting my interest, he had procured me a situation
before the mast in an old, leaky vessel, which he had got rid of because
she was not seaworthy, and commanded by a man of whose character he was
entirely ignorant. I expressed gratitude to my kinsman for his
goodness, notwithstanding I had secret misgivings in regard to his
disinterestedness, and signed with alacrity "the articles" with Captain
Turner. A new and interesting scene in the drama of life was about to
open, and I looked forward with impatience to the rising of the curtain.
The brig was laden with a cargo of lumber, rice, and provisions, and her
destination was Cayenne, on the coast of Guiana. In January, 1810, we
left the wharf in Charleston, and proceeded down the harbor. The wind
was light, but the tide ebbed with unusual velocity, sweeping us rapidly
on our way. We had nearly reached the bar when it suddenly became calm.
The brig lost steerage way, and the current was setting towards the
shoals. The pilot, aware of the danger, called out, "Let go the anchor!"
The order was promptly obeyed, and the small bower anchor was let go.
The tide was so strong that when a sufficient quantity of cable was
run out, the attempt to "check her," and to "bring up," resulted in
capsizing the windlass, and causing, for a few minutes, a sense of
indescribable confusion. The windlass, by its violent and spasmodic
motion, knocked over two of the sailors who foolishly endeavored to
regain control of its actions, and the cable, having commenced running
out of the hawse-hold, would not be "snubbed," but obstinately persisted
in continuing its course in spite of the desperate exertions of the
captain, mate, pilot, and a portion of the crew, who clung to it as if
it was their last hope. But their efforts were vain. Its impetuosity
could not in this way be checked; and as the end of the cable by some
strange neglect, had not been clinched around the mast, the last coil
followed the example of "its illustrious predecessors," and disappeared
through the hawse-hole, after having, by an unexpected whisk, upset the
mate, and given the captain a rap across the shins, which lamed him for
a week.
The "best bower" anchor was now let go, and the end hastily secured
around the foremast, which fortunately "brought up" the brig "all
standing," within half a cable's length of the shoal. No buoy having
been attached to the small bower anchor, the anchor and cable were lost
forever.
This accident, of course, prevented us from proceeding immediately to
sea; and the wind having changed, the anchor was weighed at the flood
tide, and the brig removed to a safer anchorage. Night came on, and as
the brig was riding in a roadstead, at single anchor, in a tempestuous
season, it was necessary to set an anchor watch. It fell to my lot
to have the first watch; that is, to keep a look out after the wind,
weather, and condition of the vessel, and report any occurrence of
importance between the hours of eight and ten in the evening. The crew,
fatigued with the labors of the day, took possession of their berths at
an early hour, the mate and the captain also disappeared from the
deck, after having instructed me in my duties, and cautioned me against
falling asleep in my watch.
I was thus intrusted with a responsible charge, and realized the
importance of the trust. I walked fore-and-aft the deck, with a step and
a swagger that would have become a Port Admiral in the British navy.
I felt that I had gained one important step; and, bound on a pleasant
voyage, with kind and indulgent officers, had every thing pleasant to
expect in the future. As Captain Turner would undoubtedly treat me with
indulgence and overlook any shortcomings on my part, for the sake of his
intimate friend, Captain Tilton, I determined, by my attention to duty,
and my general conduct, to deserve the favors which I was sure I should
receive.
Communing thus with myself, and lost in the rosy vagaries of a vivid
imagination, I unhappily for the moment forgot the objects for which I
was stationed on deck. I seated myself involuntarily on a spar, which
was lashed alongside the long boat, and in a few minutes, without
any intention or expectation of being otherwise than vigilant in the
extreme, WAS TRANSPORTED TO THE LAND OF DREAMS!
A check was suddenly put to my vagabond thoughts and flowery visions,
and I was violently dragged back to the realities of life by a strong
hand, which, seizing me roughly by the collar, jerked me to my feet!
At the same time, the voice of my kind friend and benefactor, Captain
Turner, rung in my ears like a trumpet, as he exclaimed in a paroxysm of
passion, "You little good-for-nothing rascal! This is the way you keep
watch! Hey? Wake up, you lazy ragamuffin! Rouse yourself!" And, suiting
the action to the word, he gave me two or three severe shakes. "Let
me catch you sleeping in your watch again, and I'll send you to the
cross-trees for four hours on a stretch. I knew I had got a hard bargain
when your uncle shoved you upon me, you sneaking, sanctimonious-looking
imp of Satan! But mind how you carry your helm, or you will have cause
to curse the day when you shipped on board the Dolphin!"
This was a damper, with a vengeance, to my aspirations and hopes.
The ladder on which I was about to ascend to fame and fortune was
unfeelingly knocked away, and I was laid prostrate flat on my back
almost before I began to mount! I was deceived in Captain Turner; and
what was of greater consequence to me, my self-confidence was terribly
shaken I was deceived in myself. My shipmates, nevertheless, sympathized
with me in my abasement; gave me words of encouragement; bade me be of
good cheer; keep a stiff upper lip; look out sharper for squalls in the
future, and I should yet "weather the cape."
An awkward accident happened to me the following day, which tended still
further to diminish the self-confidence I had so recently cherished. The
small boat had returned about sunset from a mission to the city, and as
I formed one of the boat's crew, the mate ordered me to drop the boat
astern, and hook on the tackles that it might be hoisted to the davits.
But the tide running furiously, the boat when under the quarter took a
sudden sheer. I lost my hold on the brig, and found myself adrift.
I shouted lustily for help, but no help could be afforded; the long-boat
being snugly stowed amidships, and the tide sweeping me towards the bar
at the rate of several knots an hour. Sculling was a manoeuvre of which
I had heard, and seen practised, but had never practised myself. I
therefore took one of the oars and made a desperate attempt to PADDLE
towards the brig. The attempt was unsuccessful; the distance between
the brig and the boat was rapidly increasing, darkness was coming on,
a strong breeze was springing up, and I was in a fair way to be drifted
among the breakers, or swept out to sea over the bar!
It happened, fortunately, for me, that a large brig was riding at anchor
within a short distance of the Dolphin. This was the very slaver whose
captain was so mysteriously assassinated. The mate of the brig was
looking around the harbor at the time; he espied my misfortune, and
forthwith despatched a boat, pulled by four men, to my assistance. They
took me in tow, and, after an hour of hard work, succeeded in towing the
boat and myself safely alongside the brig.
I was soundly rated by the mate for my carelessness in allowing the boat
to get adrift, and my shipmates were unsparing in their reproaches
for my ignorance of the important art of sculling. I was completely
crest-fallen; but during the few remaining days we remained in port I
applied myself with zeal to gain a practical knowledge of the art, and
could soon propel a boat through the water with a single oar over the
stern, with as much dexterity as the most accomplished sailor.
A new cable an anchor were brought on board, the wind became favorable,
and the rig Dolphin proceeded to sea, bound NOMINALLY for Cayenne. I
carried with me, engraven on my memory in characters which have never
been effaced, THE ART OR SCULLING A BOAT, and the admonition "NEVER FALL
ASLEEP IN YOUR WATCH!"