We found the harbor of St. Bartholomew full of vessels belonging to
almost every nation. Among them were several American clippers taking in
cargo for the United States; also vessels under Swedish colors bound in
the same direction. From these facts we anticipated little difficulty
in procuring a passage to that country, on whose shores my friend, the
young Englishman, as well as myself, was anxious to stand. But, although
there were many vessels in port, there were also many sailors; far
more than could be provided with employment; men, who by shipwreck or
capture, had been set adrift in different parts of the Windward islands,
and had flocked to St. Bartholomew with a view to get a passage to "The
land of the free and the home of the brave."
Strictland and myself remained in the schooner La Concha a couple of
days, until the cargo was discharged, when the French captain, taking me
aside, told me he was making arrangements to proceed on a trip to Point
Petre, in Guadaloupe, and was desirous I should remain with him as one
of the crew on regular wages. But as he positively refused to receive my
companion on the same terms, or on any terms whatever, and, moreover,
expressed an opinion of his character by no means favorable, and which I
believed to be unjust, I declined his proposition as a matter of course.
It now became necessary to seek some abiding place on shore until
we could find means of getting from the island. But on inquiry I
ascertained that thee expenses of board, even of the humblest character,
were so great that our slender resources, the few dollars remained of my
single month's pay, would not warrant such an extravagant proceeding as
a resort to a boarding house. I convinced Strictland of the importance
of the strictest economy in our expenditures; succeeded in persuading a
good-natured Swede, who kept a small shop near the careenage, to allow
my chest to remain with him a few days, and we undertook to "rough it"
as well as we could.
In the morning we usually took a survey of the vessels in the harbor,
hoping to find employment of some kind or a chance to leave the island.
When hungry, we bought, for a small sum, a loaf of bread and a half
dozen small fish, jacks or ballahues, already cooked, of which there was
always a bountiful supply for sale about the wharves, and then retiring
to the outskirts of the town, seated in the shade of one of the few
trees in that neighborhood, we made a hearty and delicious repast. The
greatest inconvenience to which we were subjected was a want of water.
There was a great scarcity of that "necessary of life" in the island,
and a drink of water, when asked for, was frequently refused. More than
once, when hard pressed by thirst, I entered a grog shop and paid for
a glass of liquor in order to obtain a refreshing draught of the pure
element.
At night, after walking through the streets and listening to the gossip
of the sailors collected in groups in the streets, we retired to some
lonely wharf, and throwing ourselves down on a pile of SOFT pine boards,
and gathering our jackets around us, and curtained by the starry canopy
of heaven, we slept as soundly and sweetly as if reposing on the most
luxurious couch.
But even this cheap mode of lodging was attended with inconveniences.
One night a shower of rain came suddenly upon us. This was an event
unfrequent and consequently unexpected, and our garments were thoroughly
soaked before we could realize our misfortune. As this happened about
three o'clock in the morning, there was nothing left but to wait
patiently several hours, wet to the skin and shivering in the night air,
until our clothing was dried by the rays of the sun and warmth restored
to our frames.
One night an unprincipled knave undertook to rob us while we slept.
Fortunately for us he began his work with Strictland, and took
possession of the few effects which his pockets contained before my
companion awoke and gave the alarm. On hearing his cry, I started to my
feet and seized the fellow, who, being nearly naked, eluded my grasp and
ran. We chased him the length of a street, when he entered an alley and
disappeared among a row of dilapidated buildings.
After these events we considered it expedient to change our capacious
lodging house for one of more limited dimensions, where we might be
screened from a shower and concealed from the prying eyes of a robber.
We proceeded the next day in quest of such an accommodation, and after
a careful survey of various localities, our labors were crowned with
success. We found on the northern side of the harbor an old boat
that had been hauled up on the beach and turned bottom upwards. This
furnished us with a capital lodging house. We took up our quarters
there every night without asking permission of the owner, and were never
disturbed in our snug domicile after we laid ourselves down to rest.
It may be asked why I did not apply to the American consul for
assistance. The treatment which I received from the agent of our
government, when in distress, at Liverpool, created on my mind an
unfavorable impression in regard to that class of officials, and the
reluctant aid and little encouragement which those of my countrymen
met with who applied for advice and assistance to the consul at St.
Bartholomew, were calculated to prevent any application on my part.
Besides, I had entwined my fortunes with another an Englishman; and we
had resolved to partake of weal or woe together.
On more than one occasion I could have procured a passage for myself
to my native land if I had been willing to leave Strictland, My
"protection," as well as appearance, furnished indisputable evidence
that I was an American; but Strictland had no testimony of any kind
to offer in favor of his citizenship, and to every application for a
passage he received a decided shake of the head, from which there was no
appeal.
About this time an excitement prevailed among the web-footed gentry
in St. Bartholomew in relation to the impressment of seamen by British
authorities. The cruisers on the West India station were deficient in
men; and all kinds of stratagems were regarded as justifiable which
would be likely to supply the deficiency. British ships and brigs of war
were often seen cruising off the harbor of St. Bartholomew, and their
boats were sent ashore for intelligence and provisions. It became known
to some of the officers that there was a large number of seamen in the
town destitute of employment, and a plot was devised to kidnap a few of
them, and do them a good turn against their will, by giving them board
and lodging gratis, and an opportunity to display their courage by
fighting the enemies of Great Britain.
A shrewd and intelligent English office, who could tell a good story and
make himself agreeable in a grog shop, disguised in the plain dress of
a common sailor, one day got admittance to a knot of these unsuspecting
"old salts," and by his liberality and good humor acquired their
confidence. Under some plausible pretext he induced a dozen or fifteen
Dutchmen, Swedes, Britons, and Yankees to accompany him to a wharf on
the opposite side of the harbor, where an alarm or cries for succor
could hardly be heard by any of the sailors on shore. Instead of the
sport which was expected, they found themselves surrounded by the boat's
crew of a man-of-war! After a brief, but unsuccessful struggle, they
were all, with the exception of two, hustled into the boat and carried
off in triumph on board an English frigate. Those two effected their
escape by making good use of their legs, and their account of this most
unjustifiable but successful case of man-stealing created a feeling
of hatred against the officers of British men-of-war, which manifested
itself on several occasions, and was near being attended with serious
results.
One pleasant morning, an American clipper brig arrived at St.
Bartholomew from the United States. The event was soon known to every
person in the island, and caused quite an excitement. When a boat from
the brig, with the captain on board, reached the landing-place, a crowd
was assembled to hear the news and inquire into the results of the
war. Englishmen and Americans met upon the wharf upon the most friendly
footing, and jocularly offered bets with each other in regard to the
nature of the intelligence brought by this arrival.
The captain stepped on shore and was besieged on every side. "What is
the news, captain?" eagerly inquired half a dozen individuals in the
same breath.
"Is Canada captured by the Americans?" shouted an undoubted Jonathan,
one of those persevering, restless mortals of whom it has been said by a
Yankee girl,
"No matter where his home may be,
What flag may be unfurled;
He'll manage, by some cute device,
To whittle through the world!"
"Has there been any naval engagement? Any American frigates taken,
hey?" inquired a genuine native of Albion, his eyes sparkling with
expectation.
The captain, although thus suddenly surrounded, captured, and taken
possession of, seemed more amused than annoyed by these inquisitorial
proceedings, and, with a clear voice and a good-humored smile, replied,
while the tumult was hushed and every ear expanded to catch the
interesting intelligence, "I know of no battles that have been fought
on the land or sea; but just before I left New York, intelligence was
received that General Hull, the commander of the American forces on the
frontiers, had surrendered his whole army to the enemy at Detroit, with
all his guns, ammunition, and stores, WITHOUT FIRING A GUN!"
It is impossible to describe the scene which followed the announcement
of this unexpected intelligence, the exultation of the British, and the
mortification and wrath of the Americans. Hull was stigmatized by his
country-men as the basest of cowards. Curses, both loud and deep, were
heaped upon his hoary head. Had he been within the grasp of those who
listened to the story of his shame, a host of armed Englishmen could not
have saved him from the fury of the Yankees.
Occasionally an American privateer was seen in the offing; and the
boldness, enterprise, and success of this class of vessels in crippling
the commerce of Great Britain among the islands, created astonishment
and indignation among the loyal subjects of "his majesty." Rumors were
afloat every day sometimes false, but more frequently true of some deed
of daring, or destruction of British property, committed in that quarter
by American private-armed vessels.
One day, a small drogher arrived from the English island of Antigua,
bringing as passengers four or five seamen, the only survivors of a
terrible disaster which befell one of those privateers while cruising to
the windward of Antigua. One of the men was boatswain of the vessel. The
tale which he related was a sad one, and its correctness was confirmed
by the deep emotion which the narrator and his shipmates manifested and
by the tears they shed.
The captain of the privateer was a man of violent and ungovernable
temper and drunken habits. He had a quarrel every day with some of his
officers or some of his men; and one Sunday afternoon a wordy contest
took place between the captain and his first lieutenant, both being well
primed with alcohol. The language and conduct of the insulted officer
was such as to provoke the captain to madness. He raged and raved, and
at last struck his lieutenant, and gave peremptory orders to "put the
rascal in irons."
On hearing this order given, but before it could be executed, the
lieutenant seized a loaded pistol. Instead of shooting his brutal
commander on the spot, he rushed down the steps into the after part of
the vessel, and undoubtedly discharged his weapon among the powder in
the magazine! A tremendous explosion followed, which blew the privateer
to fragments, scattering the timbers and planks, and the legs, arms, and
bodies of the crew, in every direction! The shrieks of the wounded, the
struggles of the dying, and the spectacle of horrors which those men
witnessed, made a lasting impression on their minds.
After having been on the water a few minutes, almost stunned by the
explosion, the boatswain and some of his companions succeeded in
constructing a raft from the floating planks; and after days of
suffering and exposure, without food, and almost without clothing, the
survivors were driven ashore on the island of Antigua, where they were
kindly treated, and subsequently sent to St. Bartholomew, with the
expectation that they would there find a chance to get to the United
States.
Strictland and myself led the vagabond kind of life I have described for
a couple of weeks. My purse was gradually growing lighter, and it became
evident that we must soon find employment or starve. We formed various
plans for improving our condition, neither of which proved practicable
when put to the test. One of these was to proceed to Tortola, and join
a band of strolling players that were perambulating the islands, and
attracting admiration, if not money, by the excellence of their dramatic
representations. Strictland, it seemed, besides having been a hanger-on
at the "Fives Court," had served occasionally as a supernumerary at
Covent Garden Theatre. He could sing almost any one of Dibdin's songs
in imitation of Incledon, in a manner to astonish an audience; and he
flattered my vanity by assuring me that I should make a decided hit
before an intelligent audience as "Young Norval." But this project
failed for want of means to carry us to the theatre of action.
One morning, while looking about the wharves, we learned that the brig
Gustavus, a vessel under Swedish colors, supposed to belong to St.
Bartholomew, was making preparations for a voyage to the United States.
We lost no time in finding the captain of the brig, a chuckle-headed,
crafty-looking native of Sweden, who had been long a resident of the
West Indies. I represented our case in the most forcible language I
could command; and already aware that some men will be more likely to
do a kind act from motives of self-interest than the promptings of a
benevolent heart, I told him we were anxious to proceed to the United
states, and if he would promise us the privilege of working our passage,
we would go on board forthwith and assist in taking in cargo and getting
the brig ready for sea.
The captain listened to my eloquence with a good-natured smile and
accepted our offer. He promised us a passage to some port in the United
States if we would go on board the brig and work faithfully until
she sailed. We abandoned our convenient, I had almost said luxurious
lodgings beneath the boat on the beach, and, with my chest and what
other baggage we possessed, joyfully transferred our quarters to the
forecastle of the brig Gustavus.
We remained on board the brig about a fortnight, faithfully and steadily
at work, stowing cargo, repairing and setting up the rigging, and
bending sails. We congratulated ourselves, from time to time, on our
good fortune in securing such a chance, after so much disappointment and
delay.
But one morning I was alarmed at finding Strictland had been suddenly
attacked with violent headache and other symptoms of fever. The mate
gave him some medicine, but he continued unwell. In the afternoon the
captain came on board, and after a conference with the mate, called me
to the quarter-deck, and told me my companion was sick; that he did not
like sick people; and the sooner I took him ashore, the better for all
parties. "The brig," he continued, "is now ready for sea. I can find
plenty of my countrymen who will go with me on the terms you offered,
and of course I shall not give either of you a passage to America. If I
should be overhauled by an English man-of-war while my crew is composed
in part of Americans and Englishmen, my vessel will be seized and
condemned. Therefore, you had better clear out at once, and take your
sick friend along with you."
I was disgusted with the cold-blooded rascality of this man, who could
thus, almost without a pretext, violate a solemn obligation when he
could no longer be benefitted by its fulfilment.
"As for taking my friend ashore in his present condition," said I, "with
no place in which to shelter him, and no means of procuring him medical
advice or support, that is out of the question. He must remain where he
now is until he recovers from his illness. But I will no longer trouble
you with MY presence on board. I will gladly quit your vessel as soon as
you pay me for the work I have done during the last fortnight."
"Work!!" said the skipper; "pay! I didn't agree to pay you for your
work! You've got your food and lodging for your work. Not one single rix
dollar will I pay you besides!" And the skipper kept his word.
After giving him, in very plain language, my opinion of his conduct, I
went into the forecastle and had some conversation with Strictland. I
found him more comfortable, and told him my determination not to sleep
another night on board the brig, but that I would visit him the next
morning. I called a boat alongside, and, swelling with indignation, went
ashore. I proceeded immediately to an American clipper brig which was
ready to sail for a port in the Chesapeake Bay. I represented to the
captain the forlorn situation of myself and companion, and urged him
to give us a passage to the United States. He listened patiently to my
representations, but replied that he had already consented to receive
a larger number of his distressed countrymen as passengers than he felt
justified in doing, and that he had neither room nor provisions for any
additional number. Seeing that I was greatly disappointed at his refusal
of my application, he finally told me he would give ME a passage to
America if I chose to go, but he would not take my companion. This
was reasonable enough; but I could not think of abandoning Strictland,
especially while he was sick and destitute, and resolved to forego this
opportunity and wait for more propitious times. I was convinced that
when I got to the bottom of Fortune's constantly revolving wheel, my
circumstances must improve by the revolution, whichever way the wheel
might turn.
Fatigued, disappointed, and indignant withal, as soon as the shades of
evening fell I proceeded leisurely around the harbor to the beach on the
opposite side of the bay, and again took possession of my comfortable
lodgings beneath the boat. For hours I lay awake, reflecting on my
awkward situation, and striving to devise some practicable means to
overcome the difficulties by which I was surrounded.
I awoke at a somewhat late hour the next morning, and heard the unwonted
sounds of the wind whistling and howling around my domicile. It was
blowing a gale, the beginning of a hurricane. I hastened with eager
steps to the other side of the harbor, where I found everything in
confusion. The quays were thronged with people, and every man seemed
busy. Boats were passing to and from the vessels, freighted with men to
render assistance; carrying off cables and anchors, and in some cases,
where the cargoes had been discharged, stone ballast, which was hastily
thrown on the decks and thence transferred to the hold, fears being
entertained that as the hurricane increased, the vessels in port might
be forced from their anchors, and wrecked on the rocks at the entrance
of the haven, or driven out into the Caribbean Sea.
The vessels were thickly moored, and cables already began to part and
anchors to drag. Sloops, schooners, brigs, and ships got foul of each
other. The "hardest fend off!" was the cry, and cracking work commenced;
and what with the howling of the hurricane gusts as they swept down the
mountain side, the angry roar of the short waves, so suddenly conjured
up, as they dashed against the bows of the different vessels, the
shouting of the seamen mooring or unmooring, the orders, intermingled
with fierce oaths and threats, of the masters and mates as they exerted
all their energies to avert impending disasters, the crashing of
bulwarks, the destruction of cutwaters and bowsprits, and the demolition
of spars, a scene of unusual character was displayed, which, to a
person not a busy actor, was brim full of interest, and not destitute of
sublimity.
The mate of the Gustavus, with a number of men, was employed in carrying
off from the shore a cable and anchor, the small bower having parted
at the beginning of the gale. The mate represented the situation of the
brig as somewhat critical, and urged me to render assistance. Anxious to
see Strictland, I acceded to his request. It was not long before we were
under the bows of the brig. Men were engaged in carrying out the anchor
ahead to haul her away from a cluster of vessels which were making sad
havoc with her quarter rails, fashion pieces, and gingerbread work on
the stern.
I entered the forecastle, shook hands with Strictland, whose health had
greatly improved, with prospect of a speedy recovery, and bade him be
of good cheer, that he would be well enough on the morrow. I threw on a
chest my jacket and vest, containing what little money still remained
on hand, and my "protection," and thus airily equipped, reckless of the
clouds of mist and rain which at times enveloped the whole harbor, went
on deck and turned to with a will, notwithstanding the scurvy treatment
I had received from the captain the day before. When I reached the deck,
some of the men were engaged in heaving in the new cable; others were
just then called aft by the captain to assist in bearing off a sloop on
one quarter and a schooner on the other, and in disengaging the rigging
which had caught in the spars. The sloop had the appearance of a wreck.
The laniards of the shrouds had been cut away on both sides, and the
tall and tapering mast was quivering and bending like a whipstock,
from the action of the wind and the waves. One of the cables, it was
supposed, had parted; the sails, not having been properly furled, were
fluttering and struggling, not altogether in vain, to get loose; and
the deck on both sides was filled with shingle ballast, which had been
brought from the shore early that morning, in the fear that the sloop
might be driven out to sea, and had not been thrown into the hold.
The captain, mate, and crew of the sloop, finding their vessel in such
a helpless condition, and entertaining wholesome fears for their own
safety, ABANDONED THE SLOOP TO HER FATE, and embarked, with all their
baggage, in the last boat that had brought off ballast. But with the
last boat there came from the shore a young man, who, as supercargo,
had charge of the vessel and cargo. Aware to some extent of the perilous
condition of the sloop, he had been actively engaged during the morning
in efforts to prepare his vessel to encounter the disasters incident
to a hurricane. As he stepped on the deck of the sloop, and before the
ballast had all been discharged from the boat, the officers and crew
were eager for their departure. The captain urged the supercargo to
accompany him on shore, and, when he refused, pointed out the desperate
condition of the sloop, assuring him that in a few minutes that vessel,
held by a single anchor, would break adrift and be wrecked on the rocks,
when probably no individual could be saved.
The name of the supercargo was Bohun, a native of the "Emerald Isle." He
peremptorily refused to quit the vessel, saying, as he stamped his foot
on the deck, "Here I stand, determined to sink or swim with the sloop."
"Shove off!" exclaimed the captain; "it is useless to parley with a
fool!"
At this moment the crew of the Gustavus were summoned aft to disengage
the brig from the sloop, and the captain was issuing orders in his
most effective style. "Bear off! Why don't you bear off! Cut away the
laniards of those shrouds, and clear the main chainwales! Bring an axe
here, and cut away that fore-stay which is foul of the main yard!"
Calling now to Bohun, who stood in the forward part of the sloop with a
most rueful visage, the captain said, "Why don't you pay out cable, you
lubber, and drop astern, clear of the brig?"
Bohun stood near the windlass, and his appearance struck me as being
singularly interesting. He was dressed like a gentleman; wore a green
frock coat and a white fur hat; but his garments were saturated with
rain and the spray. He seemed resolute, nevertheless, and anxious to
do something, but he knew not what to do. When roughly accosted by the
captain of the brig, he replied, "If you'll send two or three men to
help me, I will soon get the sloop clear of your vessel. My men have all
deserted, and I can do nothing without assistance."
The captain of the Gustavus shook his head and his fist at the young
Irishman, and discharged a double-headed oath at him, within point-blank
shot. Nevertheless, Bohun continued, "If you will let me have one man,
only ONE man, I may be able to save the sloop."
"One man!" replied the Swedish captain, screaming with passion, "how
do you expect me to spare even one man, when my own vessel may strike
adrift at any moment? Pay out cable, and be hanged to you! Pay out
cable, and drop astern!" And he aimed another ferocious oath at the
unfortunate supercargo.
Poor Bohun was no sailor. He hardly knew the difference between the
cable and the cathead. He looked the picture of distress, almost of
despair. But I, being under no obligations to the brutal captain of the
brig, was at liberty to obey the impulse of my feelings. I stepped over
the quarter rail, grasped the topmast stay of the sloop, swung myself
on the jibboom, and in the space of a few seconds after the captain had
concluded his maledictions I was standing on the sloop's forecastle,
alongside of Bohun.