When George Leicester retired to his cabin that night, it was with the
full intention to at once retire to his cot. Instead, however, of doing
this, he flung himself down on the sofa, to indulge in a few minutes of
entirely undisturbed thought, and there sleep overtook him.
From this he was abruptly startled into complete wakefulness by a sudden
cry, immediately followed by a confused sound of struggling on deck, and
of a dull crunching blow, a cry of "Oh, God! have mercy upon my dear--"
another blow, a heavy fall on the planking overhead, a deep groan, and
then a splash in the water alongside.
Conscious at once that something terrible had happened, he sprang to his
feet, buckled on his cutlass, and, snatching up a pistol in one hand and
a lamp in the other, hurriedly stepped out of the cabin to investigate.
He was just in time to encounter at the foot of the companion-ladder a
motley crowd of swarthy-skinned strangers, who, with bared daggers and
sword-blades, were making their way down to the cabin. That they were
enemies was so instantly apparent that George unhesitatingly levelled
his pistol at the foremost man and fired. The bullet struck the man in
the shoulder, shattering the bone, and he staggered to one side,--only
to make way for others, however, who, pressing upon George, disarmed and
overpowered him before he had opportunity to do further harm. Mr
Bowen, who had dashed out of his cabin just behind George, was similarly
disarmed and overpowered; and then the crowd pressed on into the cabin,
where they found and secured Walford and the lad Tom.
Having made a thorough search of the various state-rooms, the
strangers--who were evidently Spaniards--hurried their prisoners on
deck. Here a single glance sufficed to show Captain Leicester that his
ship had been taken from him by a clever surprise, aided--or rather
rendered possible--by terrible carelessness on the part of those left in
charge of the deck. The crew, as he found on rapidly counting heads,
were all present--with one exception--securely bound hand and foot, and
huddled together under the bulwarks. The exception--the missing man--
was Ritson; and the overturned and broken chair, the blood-spattered
deck in its immediate vicinity, and the heavy splash into the water
alongside, which George had heard, rendered the whole story as plain and
clear as the moon which rode so serenely in the heavens above. Poor
Ritson! he had paid with his life the penalty of his disastrous lapse of
duty. And the drowsy helmsman--who had obviously awakened in time to
spring to the assistance of his superior--was lying near the skylight,
white and ghastly in the moonlight, with his skull cloven, and a great
black pool of blood slowly spreading on the planking beneath his head.
The brig ahead, now hove-to and evidently awaiting the approach of the
_Aurora_, told George from whence his enemies had sprung; and--now that
it was all too late--he bitterly reproached himself for his lack of
caution with regard to her.
The individuals who had thus cleverly gained possession of the barque
were as ruffianly a set of scoundrels as could well be met with on the
high seas. Their leader, a brawny, thick-set Spaniard, with a skin
tanned to the hue of well-seasoned mahogany, his ragged black locks
bound round with a filthy red silk handkerchief, and surmounted by a
broad-brimmed straw hat, his body clad in a red and yellow striped
worsted shirt, confined at the waist by a cutlass-belt, into which a
long-barrelled pistol was thrust, and his legs encased in sea-boots
reaching nearly to the thigh, was a particularly truculent-looking
ruffian; and a powerful negro, somewhat similarly clad, who seemed to be
his chief _aide_, was little if anything better.
That they were pirates there could be no possible doubt, and poor George
Leicester expected nothing less than that he and his ship's company
would all have their throats cut, and then be unceremoniously pitched
overboard, to keep poor Ritson company. It soon appeared, however, that
his career was not to be thus summarily brought to an end, for after a
few words between the leader and the negro, George and his crew were,
after their bonds had been looked to and made more secure, distributed
about the deck, and chained to the ring-bolts in the bulwarks and
elsewhere.
The _Aurora_, under the influence of a slightly freshening breeze, soon
joined company with the brig, from which a boat then put off, bringing
on board the barque a tall handsome man, whose features were, however,
spoiled by the expression of cunning and cruelty legibly imprinted on
them. He said a few words to the Spaniard in charge, glanced round the
deck at the helpless prisoners, made a jesting remark or two, at which
of course everybody dutifully laughed, gave George--who unfortunately
happened to be nearest him--a playful kick in the mouth with his heavy
boot, and then sauntered leisurely down into the cabin, where, from the
repeated loud bursts of laughter, and the singing which soon arose, a
carouse seemed to have been promptly entered upon.
The sky to the eastward was brightening with the approach of dawn, when
the revellers at last staggered once more on deck. Here the handsome
man--who seemed to be the chief of the pirate crew--paused for a moment,
apparently to reiterate and emphasise certain commands already laid upon
his subordinate, after which he went down the side into his boat, and
some five minutes afterwards the two craft filled away once more upon
their former course.
It would be impossible to convey to the reader, without going into the
most shocking and disgusting details, any clear idea of the sufferings
and indignities to which the unfortunate captain and crew of the
_Aurora_ were subjected during the next three weeks. Suffice it to say
that during the whole of that time they were _never_ released from the
ring-bolts to which they were chained; that they lay there on the hard
planking day and night, alternately scorched by the fierce rays of the
noonday sun, and chilled by the heavy dews of night; that they were
sparingly and irregularly fed--and then only upon the coarsest and most
loathsome of food--and still more sparingly and irregularly supplied
with water; that they were the recipients of incessant abuse and
brutality from the wretches who were in possession of the ship; and some
slight conception can be formed of their dreadful state of body and mind
during that interminable three weeks.
At the end of that time the land was made, and late at night both ships
glided into an anchorage, where they brought-up, the canvas was furled
in a slovenly fashion which drove poor Bowen--in spite of all that he
had suffered--half-distracted, the boats were lowered, and preparations
were at once made for the transport of the prisoners to the shore.
This operation, under the direction of the truculent-looking and
ruffianly Spaniard already mentioned as the head of the gang in
possession of the _Aurora_, was speedily effected. The prisoners,
handcuffed with their hands behind them, were sent down into one of the
boats lowered for their reception, and there secured to a length of
heavy chain, so that where one went, the rest were compelled to go also;
and, thus yoked together, they were transferred to the shore. A glance
at the star-lit sky, in which the pole-star hung, only some twenty to
twenty-five degrees above the horizon, told poor Leicester that they
were landing upon a shore open to the northward, and that, from the
position of Polaris in the sky, they were somewhere within about
twenty-five degrees of the equator; but, beyond that, he was just then
unable to learn anything further concerning their whereabouts.
As the boat's keel grated upon the beach, the prisoners were ordered by
sufficiently significant gestures--none of them understanding a single
word of Spanish--to climb over the side and make their way up the beach.
The Spaniard in charge pointed significantly with a long whip which he
carried to a break in the dense growth of trees which clustered close to
the water's edge and then, with an ominous flourish of the lash, gave
the word for the miserable band to move forward. A toilsome march of
some four or five miles along a track of heavy sand then commenced; a
march which, fatiguing enough in itself, after the long period of close
confinement to which they had been subjected, was rendered trebly so by
the constraint of the heavy chain to which they were secured.
Staggering, reeling, and stumbling forward, conscious of nothing beyond
their dreadful state of misery and suffering, it took them over three
hours to perform that horrible journey, urged on though they were by the
incessant application of the cruel whip; and then they found themselves
outside an enclosure formed of heavy slabs of planking some nine feet in
height. A narrow door gave admittance to the place, and, this being
unlocked, the prisoners were driven in, and after the door had been
again securely fastened, they were released from the chain, and, still
with their hands secured behind them, allowed to stretch their exhausted
bodies upon the ground, and take such repose as was possible under the
circumstances.
The first definite idea to take possession of George Leicester's mind,
after he had fully realised the calamity of his capture, was escape.
Whilst chained immovable to a ring-bolt on his own vessel's deck, this
was clearly a simple impossibility; and as he now glanced round the
enclosure in which he found himself, he recognised the fact that it was
still equally so. It was true that the place was open to the sky, and
that the scaling of the barricade would be, to a strong, active, _free_
man, simply a pleasant gymnastic exercise; but he was _not_ free; his
hands were shackled behind him; a sentinel, armed with cutlass and gun,
was promptly placed on guard over the wretched group of captives; and
last, but not least, the three weeks of confinement, exposure, and
privation to which he had been subjected had left their mark upon him;
he could no longer call himself a strong and active man. Besides this,
there was Walford. George's vow to watch over and protect this man,
and, if possible, to restore him to Lucy's arms, was ever present to
him, and he recognised from the very first that, if ever he should be so
fortunate as to escape, Walford must certainly accompany him. When
Leicester contemplated the additional difficulties which this necessity
forced upon him, his courage _almost_--though not quite--failed him; for
since the capture of the _Aurora_ Walford had, under the influence of
the sufferings to which he, in common with the rest, had been subjected,
relapsed into a state of almost complete imbecility; so that, so far as
assisting in the matter of his own escape was concerned, he was helpless
as an infant There was, however, one point in Leicester's favour; and it
was this. Walford still _knew_ him, and appeared to recognise, in spite
of the mists which obscured his intellect, the fact that George was
keenly interested in him; and he was always passively obedient to any
injunction which the latter laid upon him.
The unfortunate crew of the _Aurora_ were kept confined in this
enclosure four days, during which their condition was somewhat
ameliorated by the administration of a better quality and a more liberal
quantity of food than before, and also by the permission--or rather, the
command--to exercise their cramped and stiffened limbs by a
daily-increasing amount of exercise.
The cause for this altered treatment soon became apparent. On the
morning of the fifth day--by which time their haggard, half-starved, and
feeble appearance had to some slight extent passed away, and they were
once more able to keep upon their feet for an hour or so without
dropping exhausted to the ground--the Spaniard who had charge of them
made his appearance in the enclosure, still arrayed in the filthy
habiliments which he wore on board the _Aurora_, and armed as usual with
whip, cutlass, and pistol; and, flourishing the former threateningly in
the air, roughly bade them rise to their feet. This command being
obeyed, a chain was produced--somewhat lighter than the one before
used--the prisoners were secured to it, and then the negro who acted as
the Spaniard's _aide_ or chief mate, unlocked the door, and the whole
party marched out.
The route on this occasion, as on the last, was along a narrow
bridle-path of heavy sand, which led through a dense growth of tropical
trees and plants. Following this path for about a mile, the party
emerged upon a road crossing the path at right angles, into which they
turned, when, at a distance of about two miles, a straggling town of
low, white, flat-roofed houses became visible, with blue water beyond,
just beginning to be ruffled by the sea-breeze.
A toilsome march, of about an hour's duration, along the glaring white
road, during which they were scorched by the fierce rays of the sun, and
nearly blinded by the whirling clouds of fine dust, and they entered the
town. Passing along a number of narrow sandy streets--deserted, save
for the presence of a few negroes and miserable-looking Spaniards,
ragged and dirty, bearing barrels of water strapped upon their
shoulders, and a goat-herd or two driving his flock of milch goats from
door to door--they emerged at last into a large open square, in the
centre of which stood a tall, ugly stone fountain, from which more
negroes and Spaniards were filling their barrels. From the wide basin
of this fountain George and his companions in misery were allowed to
slake their thirst, and then they were conducted to a large open shed
which stood on one side of the square, and, under the welcome shade of
its wide shingled roof, ordered to sit down.
They had not been here long when another gang of unfortunates--negroes
this time--were driven into the square and under the shed; then another,
and another; making in all some four hundred human beings huddled
together there, like cattle in a pound.
Then, for the first time, the full horror of their position burst upon
George and his wretched companions; they were in a slave-market, and
were about to be sold as slaves.
The conviction that this was actually to be their fate fell upon them
like a thunder-bolt; it was almost too much for even George's courage to
bear up against; and as for poor Bowen, for a moment it seemed that he
would go out of his senses altogether; he prayed; he cursed himself and
everybody else; he swore solemnly that he would kill the man who dared
to buy him, and finally, in a paroxysm of mad fury, started to his feet,
dragging at the chain and exerting such an extraordinary amount of
strength--in spite of all his recent sufferings--in his efforts to break
away, that for a moment it seemed almost possible that he would succeed.
A cruel lash across the face from the Spaniard's whip--a lash which
tore away the skin and left a livid bloody weal on both cheeks--only
maddened him the more; seeing which, the negro who, with the Spaniard,
was in charge of the party, sprang upon him, and, gripping him by the
throat, hurled him to the ground with such brutal force that the poor
fellow lay there, for a time stunned.
At about nine o'clock the square gradually began to fill, a large number
of Spanish gentlemen arriving upon the scene; some on horseback, and
others in gigs drawn by a pair of horses driven tandem-fashion. They
all smoked incessantly, and nearly all of them, on reaching the square,
proceeded at once to the shed, and, walking up and down its entire
length, examined with the utmost minuteness every individual beneath its
roof, frequently stopping to make some inquiry of those who had the poor
wretches in charge.
At ten o'clock a small shrivelled-up specimen of a Spaniard, dressed
entirely in white, made his appearance in the square, followed by four
negroes bearing a couple of chairs and a lightly-constructed rostrum,
and accompanied by a sallow cadaverous-looking individual, with a large
book under his arm, a pen behind his ear, and a silver-mounted ink-horn
at his button-hole.
Selecting a suitable spot for the purpose, the negroes placed the
rostrum on the ground, with one chair in and the other in front of it;
the shrivelled-up Spaniard mounted into position, his clerk seated
himself in front, a negro perambulated the square, ringing a large
hand-bell, and the sale began.
The blacks were offered first, and of these a large proportion had
evidently been landed very recently from a slaver. For the most part
they were a tall, fine-looking set of men and women; that is to say,
they _had_ been; but disease and privation had done almost their worst
upon them; and as they took their places upon the block, one by one,
their forms showed gaunt and spare as so many skeletons. In spite,
however, of their poor condition, competition ran high; the bidding was
brisk, and they were rapidly "knocked down," one after the other, until
the whole of the cargo was cleared.
Then came a gang of negroes--slaves already--belonging to the estate of
a tobacco planter, recently deceased, whose heir was disposing of
everything prior to a trip to Europe.
Most of these poor wretches had been born on the estate; others had been
on it long enough to form family connections upon it; and now husbands
and wives, parents and children, were in many cases about to be
ruthlessly torn from each other for ever. It was pitiful--it was
heart-breaking--to those unaccustomed to such a scene to witness the
expression of utter despair on the faces of these poor creatures. Then,
as the sale proceeded, this expression would sometimes give way to one
of feverish hope as the purchaser of a husband or parent would become a
bidder for the wife or child. In one or two rare cases the hope was
realised; and as husband and wife, or parent and child, found themselves
once more reunited--once more the property of the same man--their joy
was enough to wring tears from the heart of a stone. But in most cases
the families were utterly broken up, no two members becoming the
property of the same purchaser; and then their dreadful misery, their
heart-broken anguish, was simply indescribable, and must be left to the
imagination of the reader.
At length it came to the turn of the _Aurora's_ crew, and Mr Bowen was
selected as the first man to be "put up." On being released from the
chain, instead of at once stepping up on the block, as he was signed to
do, he turned to George, whose arms were still bound behind him, and,
extending his hand, touched the latter lightly on the head by way of
farewell, exclaiming--
"Well, cap'n, the moment of parting's come at last, and a sorrowful
enough parting it is! Battle, storm, fire, or shipwreck I _was_
prepared for; but when we sailed out of London, I never dreamed that I
was on the highway to _slavery_. Well, God's will be done! Here we
are, and I s'pose we must make the best of it while it lasts, which
won't be a minute longer than either of us can help, if I know anything
of you or myself. If I get clear first, I vow never to steer to the
east'ard until you've joined company; and if _you_ should happen to be
off first, I hope--"
An impatient exclamation from the Spaniard in charge of the party, with
a savage lash of the whip, and a gesture of command to mount the block
at once, here cut short the rest of poor Bowen's farewell speech.
The mate fairly reeled under the force of the blow, but he steadied
himself in an instant, and turned upon his assailant with eyes literally
blazing with fury; the veins on his forehead stood out like cords, the
muscles of his arms and legs swelled, as he gathered himself together,
and his body quivered like that of a tiger crouching to the leap. In
another instant he would have had the presumptuous Spaniard in a
death-grip, but a cry from Leicester stopped him just in time.
"Steady, Bowen!" exclaimed George eagerly; "steady, dear old friend;
resistance is _worse_ than useless just now. It is their turn to-day;
but ours will come, it _shall_ come, some day; and then we will repay
them with interest for all our present sufferings."
"Right you are, cap'n," was Bowen's reply, as he stepped quietly up on
the block; "but," turning to the Spaniard, "if ever you and I meet on
blue water--well, you shall rue this day, that's all."
This incident, being of a somewhat exciting and novel character, seemed
to afford great gratification to the crowd of buyers gathered round the
spot, who eagerly remarked to each other upon the courage and
indomitable spirit of the British seaman, and dwelt upon the pleasure it
would afford them to quell that courage and humble that proud spirit to
the dust. The result of it all was a keen competition for the
possession of the man, and Bowen was at length "knocked down" to a tall
man with thin aquiline features, the expression of which was pretty
evenly made up of pride, resolution, and relentless cruelty.
Walford was next put up, but the miserable condition of the unfortunate
man, and his vacant look of imbecility, excited nothing but laughter and
ridicule, and no one would make a bid for him.
Seeing that it would be impossible to sell this "lot" alone, the
Spaniard with the whip ordered George to be released and placed upon the
block also, stepping forward at the same time and whispering eagerly in
the ear of the auctioneer.
The latter thereupon explained to the crowd that while the first of the
two men offered was undoubtedly valueless of himself and alone, he could
be made very useful if purchased along with the second, who had been
found to have great influence over him, and could, in fact, persuade him
to do anything which might be required; and so on, and so on.
A little brisk bidding then ensued for the two on the part of the more
speculative among the buyers, who were willing to risk a little possible
loss on the chance of obtaining two slaves for a trifle more than the
price of one; and finally they were purchased by a man who had all the
appearance of being an overseer on some extensive estate. The lad Tom,
who was next put up, was also bought by the same purchaser; and in a few
minutes the three white men--now slaves--found themselves chained to a
gang of negroes--men and women--who had also fallen into the hands of
the same owner.
Half an hour afterwards the gang was put in motion, and, with the
overseer (for such he eventually proved to be) at their head, and three
other men, mounted--one riding on each side and one in the rear--as a
guard, took their way through the town (which George at last ascertained
was Havana), out into the country, and inland toward the hills, along a
fairly good road, well shaded for the most part with a dense growth of
tropical verdure.
A wearisome tramp along this road for a distance of some ten miles
brought them late in the afternoon to the plantation which was to be
their future home, or prison; and George, Walford, and the lad Tom, with
an old negro who possessed a slight smattering of English, were
installed into a small, but fairly comfortable, wooden hut, thatched
with sugar-cane-leaves. Here the clothing which they had been wearing
when purchased was taken from them, and they were supplied instead with
short drawers and jumpers of blue dungaree; a plentiful meal of ground
maize with a little salt was served out to them, and they were left for
the remainder of the day to recover themselves and prepare for the
labours which awaited them on the morrow.