As soon as I reached the deck of the sloop, Bohun eagerly grasped me by
the hand. "My good fellow," said he, "tell me what to do, and I will go
about it at once; only tell me what to do first."
I cast my eye around, and comprehended in a moment the exact condition
of the little vessel. I felt that a great responsibility had suddenly
devolved upon me, and I determined to be equal to the task. The sloop,
pitching and rolling, and jammed between two much larger vessels, was
awkwardly situated, and riding, I supposed, at a single anchor. About
half the cable only was payed out; the remainder was coiled on the
forecastle, and the end was not secured.
"In the first place," said I, recollecting the scene near Charleston
bar, "we will clinch the end of the cable around the mast, and then we
can veer out as much as we like, without risk of its running away."
This was soon done, and by veering cable, the sloop dropped astern,
until clear of all other vessels. I then found, to my satisfaction,
that neither of the cables had parted. It subsequently appeared that the
small bower anchor had merely been dropped under foot. By giving a good
scope to both cables, the sloop was as likely to ride out the gale, so
far as depended on ground tackling, as any vessel in port. The sails,
which had been loosed by the force of the wind, were next secured. The
foresail was furled in such manner that it could be cast loose and the
head of it hoisted at a minute's notice. I greatly feared that some
light vessel might be forced from her moorings, and drift athwart our
bows, and thus bear the sloop away from her anchors. I therefore got
an axe, and placed it by the windlass, with the design of cutting both
cables when such an act might be considered necessary for our safety,
hoist the head of the foresail, and run out to sea.
In the mean time, the decks were in a deplorable condition, lumbered up
with barrels, boxes, and ballast. The supercargo commenced on one
side, and myself on the other, to throw the ballast into the hold.
The miscellaneous articles were then tumbled down in an unceremonious
manner, and the hatchways properly secured. Our attention was now turned
to the mast, which had no support on either side, and was in an awkward
and uneasy position. Bohun looked at it as it swayed from starboard to
port and from port to starboard, and then looked inquiringly at me.
"We can co it!" said I, without hesitation. "Have you any spare rigging
on board?"
"Yes, plenty! Down in the forward part of the sloop."
I went below, and found a coil of rope which I believed would answer
my purpose. I brought it on deck, and began to reeve laniards for
the shrouds. I then procured a handspike and heaver, and went to work
setting up the rigging by a "Spanish windlass." I had only once seen
an operation of this kind performed; but having closely watched the
process, I knew I could perform it successfully. In this matter Bohun
rendered me valuable aid. We worked diligently, for we felt that every
minute was of importance; and it was not long before the shrouds on both
sides were set up, and the mast rendered safe. By the time this work
was accomplished and the vessel put in good condition, the forenoon had
nearly expired; but the hurricane continued. Several vessels had already
been driven from their anchors, and blown broadside on, through the
whole length of the harbor, and dashed to pieces against the rocks.
Through the mist and rain I kept a good lookout ahead, lest some of
those unfortunate craft should come down upon our little sloop. And at
one time, in the middle of the afternoon, I thought the crisis had come,
and we should be obliged to go to sea. A large schooner which had been
lying snugly at anchor at the extremity of the harbor for months, with
no person on board, parted her cable, and was driven by the wind among
the vessels already tossing about in that fearful gale, rubbing against
one, crushing in the bulwarks of another, and carrying alarm and terror
throughout her whole route. This hulk had passed through the great body
of the shipping without causing much serious or irremediable damage,
and now, broadside to the gale, was rapidly wafted towards the sloop. My
heart beat violently, as, axe in hand, I watched her approach.
I raised the axe above my head to give the fatal blow, when I perceived
the stern of the schooner swinging round. I dropped the axe, and called
upon Bohun to lend me a hand to bear off. The schooner came down almost
with the force of an avalanche, cleared the bowsprit, as I anticipated,
but struck our larboard bow, swung alongside, caught by our chain-wale
for a moment, was freed by a violent gust of wind, dropped astern, and
was soon pounding upon the ledges.
Bohun, who had never before been an actor in such scenes, was completely
exhausted with excitement and fatigue. He loaned me a pea-jacket, for,
after my severe labors, and ablutions in fresh and salt water, I was
shivering with cold; and requesting me to keep a good lookout, went
below long before the gale abated, and buried his inquietudes in sleep.
The tempest began to diminish in violence soon after the shades of
evening fell; but I continued on my watch until nearly midnight, when
no longer doubting that the fierce hurricane had exhausted its wrath,
I also left the deck, turned into one of the cabin berths, and slept
soundly until the sun was above the horizon.
When Bohun came on deck he assured me he felt under great obligations
for the assistance I had rendered in saving the sloop from destruction,
and would cheerfully make me any compensation in his power. He requested
as an additional favor that I would remain by the sloop, as there
was valuable property on board, until he could make some necessary
arrangements. I gave him my promise. He then called a boat alongside,
and proceeded on shore.
I was anxious to visit the Gustavus to inquire about Strictland's
health, and consult with him in relation to future proceedings. But
there was no boat at this time attached to the sloop; the small boat
broke away at the commencement of the gale, and was never afterwards
seen; and the long-boat was taken possession of by the dastardly creoles
who composed the officers and crew. I knew, however, that Strictland
was well provided for, and being determined to visit him at the earliest
opportunity, gave myself no further anxiety, but patiently awaited the
return of the supercargo. I waited in vain; he did not arrive that day,
but about eight o'clock in the evening a boat came off bringing a new
captain, mate, and a couple of men. My short-lived reign was at an end!
I had tasted the sweets of despotic authority for two delicious days. I
was now deposed, and about to be resolved into my original elements.
It was too late to visit Strictland that night; but the next morning
after breakfast, I obtained permission from the new captain to use the
boat for a short time, and with a light and joyous heart for I was
proud of my successful exertions during the gale sculled away for the
Gustavus. I stepped gayly on board, and encountered the mate as I passed
over the gangway. He greeted me kindly, but expressed surprise at my
appearance.
"How is Strictland?" I exclaimed. "Has he entirely recovered?"
"Strictland!" replied the mate. "Have you not seen him? Don't you KNOW
where he is?"
"Certainly not," said I, somewhat alarmed at his manner, "if he is not
on board the brig!"
"He left the brig this morning," said the mate, "and is now on board
that vessel in the offing," pointing to a rakish clipper brig under
American colors that was outside the harbor, and seemed to be flying
away under a cloud of canvas. "He has taken his chest and everything
belonging to you both," continued the mate, seeing my astonishment.
"I thought you were with him, and that the whole thing was arranged by
mutual agreement."
I was thunderstruck at this intelligence; but after a moment's
reflection, I refused to believe it. "It must be a mistake," said I;
"Strictland would not go off to America, and leave me here without means
or employment. He cannot be so ungrateful."
The mate looked as if he thought such a thing were possible.
"And if he HAS availed himself of a chance to go to the United States,
he has undoubtedly left the chest, which is mine, and other property
belonging to me where I can easily find it."
"I hope you MAY find it," said the mate dryly, "but I don't believe you
will."
I went forward and conversed with the men who had taken Strictland
on board the brig, and from them learned the particulars of the
transaction. It appeared that Strictland, who had quite recovered his
health, on coming on deck that memorable morning, perceived the clipper
brig, which two days before I had visited without a successful result,
making preparations for immediate departure. He borrowed the boat,
and accompanied by one of the crew of the Gustavus, went on board
the American brig, where he represented himself to the captain as an
American, in great distress, and anxious to get home. He exhibited a
"protection," mine undoubtedly, as evidence of his assertions. The
tale of his misfortunes, told in eloquent language, albeit it must
have smacked strongly of cockney peculiarities, melted the heart of
the worthy and unsuspecting sailor, who told him to bring his things on
board at once, and he would give him a passage to the United States.
Strictland returned to the Gustavus, gathered together not only
everything which belonged to him, but every article of my property
besides, not even excepting the garments I had thrown off on the morning
of the hurricane. He took with him the money belonging to me which was
still unexpended, and also what I regarded as far more valuable than the
rest of my property my American protection. He told the crew this was
done in pursuance of an arrangement made with me the day previous to the
hurricane. He reached the brig with his "plunder" just as the anchor
was hauled to the cathead, and the brig was hanging by a single line
attached to a neighboring vessel until the topsails were sheeted home.
My chest was transferred to the deck of the clipper, and five minutes
afterwards the brig was leaving the harbor under full sail, bound home.
It was some time before I could realize the extent of my misfortune,
and persuade myself of the melancholy fact that I was a stranger in a
foreign port, without friends, while every item of my goods and chattels
consisted of an old pair of patched canvas trousers, a checked shirt,
and a dilapidated straw hat; I had not even a pair of shoes, a kerchief,
a jack-knife, or the value of a stiver in cash.
I stood a moment gazing earnestly at the brig as she was rapidly
sinking beneath the horizon. I was more disappointed and shocked at
the ingratitude of Strictland than grieved at the loss of my goods and
chattels. And when I saw that I had been deceived, cajoled, and
swindled by an unprincipled adventurer, so far from rejoicing at such an
opportunity to "come out strong," as Mark Tapley would have done under
similar circumstances, I could hardly control my indignation. But
conscious that my wrongs could neither be remedied nor avenged, I
repressed my feelings, and amid the well-meaning condolence of my
friends in the Gustavus, entered my boat and returned to the sloop.
I was rejoiced to find Bohun on board. He seized my hand and greeted me
with much kindness. His countenance, open, frank, and honest, emboldened
me to explain to him my situation. When I had concluded my narrative of
facts, "Now," said I, "if you consider yourself indebted to me, and
are willing to do me a favor, all I ask is, that you will give me a
situation on board this sloop as one of the sailors, until I can find
an opportunity to do something better. I shall expect the same rate
of wages as others, of course and have also to request that you will
advance me a few dollars, with which I can supply myself with some
necessary articles of clothing."
Bohun graciously acceded to my wishes, and told me I might henceforth
consider myself one of the crew of the sloop. I then ascertained
what had hitherto escaped my knowledge, that the sloop was called the
"Lapwing" of St. Bartholomew; but really belonged to Mr. Thomas, an
opulent merchant residing in St. George, Grenada, and was about to
proceed to that port with a cargo of flour and other articles of
American produce. Bohun was a clerk with Mr. Thomas; and he assured
me that on his representations of my conduct to his employer, and
the unfortunate consequences of it to myself, that gentleman would
undoubtedly show his appreciation of my services in a manner highly
proper and acceptable.
This consideration, however, had no weight with me. All I asked for was
employment. I wanted to be placed in a situation where by my labors I
could earn my living. This I then regarded as independence; and I have
never since seen cause to change that opinion.
As the Lapwing belonged nominally and officially to a Swedish port, it
was necessary she should have Swedish officers and in part a Swedish
crew. The captain was a tall, stiff-looking man, whose name was Lordick.
He was a native of the little island of Saba; and two of the crew
belonged to the same place. The mate was a native of St. Bartholomew.
All belonging to the sloop were creoles, and assumed to be subjects of
the king of Sweden, excepting Bohun and myself; and I had been so much
exposed to the sun in that hot climate, that I looked as much like a
creole as any person on board.
The island of Saba is in sight of St. Bartholomew a level, precipitous
rock, nine miles in circumference, highest in the enter, appearing like
a mound rising out of the sea, and covered with no great depth of soil.
Saba was first settled by a colony of Dutch from St. Eustatia towards
the close of the seventeenth century. It is a place of no trade, having
no harbor, and is but little known. It is accessible only on the south
side, where there is a narrow, intricate, and artificial path leading
from the landing-place to the summit. Frequent rains give growth to
fruit and vegetables of large size and superior flavor, which are
conveyed to the neighboring islands in open boats and sold. It contained
in the early part of the present century about fifty families of whites,
and probably double that number of slaves. The chief employment of the
inhabitants consisted in cultivating the soil, and raising, besides
vegetables and fruit, cotton, which the women spun and manufactured
into stockings, of a very delicate fabric, that readily commanded a high
price in the neighboring islands. The people, living in a village on the
top of a rock between the sky and the sea, enjoy the benefits of both
elements without dreading their storms. Indeed, Saba is one of those
quiet secluded nooks, which are sometimes unexpectedly discovered
in different parts of the world, where the people, generation after
generation, live in a sort of primitive simplicity, and pride themselves
upon their peculiarities and seclusion from mankind. The traveller in
quest of novelties would do well to visit Saba.
In a few days after I became one of the crew of the Lapwing, that vessel
was ready for sea. Captain Lordick manifested toward me a friendly
feeling; he sympathized with me in my misfortunes; made me a present of
some articles, which, although of trifling intrinsic value, were
highly useful; and inveighed in severe terms against the villainy of
Strictland.
The day before we left port, Captain Lordick called me into the cabin.
"Hawser," said he, "you are an American, but you have no evidence of
that fact. The trading vessels among the islands are often boarded by
English men-of-war, with a view to get men to supply a deficiency in
their crews. If an Englishman is found, he is sure to be impressed. As
you have no "protection," and the burden of proof lies with you, you
will be regarded as an Englishman, a proper person to serve the king of
Great Britain. Even if you state the truth, and claim to be an
American, there will be no means of escape from this terrible species
of servitude. I have a plan to propose, which may save you from the
clutches of John Bull. The natives of St. Bartholomew, and also of
Saba, which is a dependency on Holland, are exempted from impressment,
provided they can exhibit proofs of their citizenship. Therefore every
sailor belonging to those islands is provided with a document, called
a 'burgher's brief,' which, like an American protection, gives a minute
description of the person of the bearer, and is signed and sealed by the
official authorities. Now, Hawser," continued the generous creole, "I
had a younger brother who died of yellow fever in St. Kitts some six
months ago. He was about your age, and resembled you in appearance.
His 'burgher's brief,' as a citizen of St. Bartholomew, is now in my
possession. Therefore you shall no longer be a citizen of the United
States, but a native of Saba. I assure you there are very good people
in Saba; and your name is no longer Hawser Martingale, but John Lordick;
remember this; I shall so enter your name in the ship's papers.
The captain's reasons for a change in my identity were powerful.
Besides, a "purser's name" was a common thing among sailors. And
although I felt unwilling to forego my claim to American citizenship,
even for a brief period, I convinced myself that no evil to anyone,
but much good to myself, would be likely to result from such a course.
Expediency is a powerful casuist; the captain's kindness also touched my
heart, and conquering an instinctive repugnance to sacrifice the truth
under any circumstances, I rashly told him that in accordance with his
suggestion, I would adopt the name of his brother for a short time, and
endeavor not to disgrace it.
"I have no fear that you will," said he.