Jack In The Forecastle; Or, Incidents In The Early Life Of Hawser Martingale Part 27

It was subsequently ascertained that Jack had erected a hut by the side of a ledge of rocks, which was almost inaccessible to a stranger; and this hut, being surrounded with bushes and undergrowth, and covered with vines, could not be recognized as a habitation by any one unacquainted with the fact. His wife, Marie, remained in her humble cottage in Guayave, and, it appeared still cherished affection for her husband. He was visited in the wilderness by Marie at certain times, and supplied with necessaries and whatever she thought might conduce to his comfort in that wretched abode. At his urgent request, she also furnished him, occasionally, with a JUG OF RUM, with which to cheer his spirits and solace his solitude. He gradually acquired an insatiable fondness for spirituous drinks, and insisted on being supplied, even to the exclusion of articles vastly more suitable to his condition.

The consequence of the indulgence of this habit was soon exhibited. He became gloomy, sullen, and ferocious. He no longer treated his wife, to whom he was so much indebted, and the only being with whom he a.s.sociated, with his wonted kindness and affection, but, when maddened with liquor, often abused her. Marie bore this for a long time with patience. She still sought his hiding-place at times, and bore him the poisonous beverage, probably unconscious that she was thus indirectly the cause of the changed conduct in her husband. He continued his ill treatment, especially when under the influence of liquor, and after a time the affection of Marie for her husband was extinguished. She began to regard him as the fierce outlaw and murderer, who cherished no gentle affections, but took pleasure in abusing the woman who held his life in her hands, and had labored hard and risked much to screen him from capture and cheer him in his concealment. Her visits became more seldom, and the ill temper of her husband increased.

One night, Marie pursued her devious way to the mountains to furnish Jack with the accustomed supplies. He s.n.a.t.c.hed form her hand the liquor, and took a deep draught. The poison did its work. He became excited, and quarreled with his wife; and, roused to fury by her reproaches, struck her with his hand, seized her by the shoulder and thrust her from the hut, tumbling her over the ledge. Marie rose, groaning with pain, being severely bruised. The cup of her indignation, which had long been full, was now overflowing. She slowly returned to her home in Guayave, brooding over schemes of revenge, and formed the determination to betray her husband into the hands of justice. She called upon Dr. Duncan, a rich planter and a magistrate, and offered to guide him to the spot where Jack Shadow, the daring rebel, was concealed.

Within a couple of hours after the magistrate received the welcome information, he was on his way to the mountains, accompanied by Marie and a guard of soldiers. They entered the thicket on the side of the mountain, where Jack Shadow had taken up his abode. They came to a precipitous ledge of rocks. "Move gently, now," said Marie, in a low voice; "we are close upon his hut."

The soldiers could see nothing resembling a hut. With their muskets loaded, and bayonets fixed, they with difficulty made their way through steep, rugged, and crooked pa.s.ses, and, after a toilsome march, stood by the side of Jack's habitation.

The sergeant was now quietly arranging his men in such a manner as to insure the captivity or death of the outlaw, when one of the soldiers stumbled, and his musket struck the ground with a ringing noise. Jack, who had just awakened from his drunken nap, heard the ominous sound.

He had no weapons, but relied on the security of his retreat and his activity and strength. He cautiously opened the door, in front of which stood a soldier with his musket pointed towards him. The sergeant cried, "Surrender, or you are a dead man!"

Jack made one last desperate struggle for life. He sprang down the ledge, turned aside with one hand the bayonet which was thrust at his bosom, and felled the soldier with the other; but ere he could clear the guard, his shoulder was transfixed by another bayonet, which disabled him, and in a few minutes he was stretched at the feet of the soldiers, a wounded, pinioned captive. Before the sun had set that afternoon he was securely lodged in the prison at Guayave, heavily ironed, and the prison was guarded by a detachment of soldiers.

The trial of Jack Shadow soon came on before a bench of magistrates.

His ident.i.ty was proved; also the conspicuous part he had taken in the insurrection, and the b.l.o.o.d.y acts which he had committed. The outlaw was condemned to death. His deportment was sullen and dogged to the last. He refused to see his wife, who, when too late, regretted the steps which, prompted by anger and a short-lived desire for revenge, she had taken for his arrest. He was hanged on a gallows, about a quarter of a mile outside the village of Guayave.

Chapter x.x.x. WEST INDIA LIFE

I remained on the Upper Pearl estate, and found much to interest an inquiring mind. Murray, although there were some good points about him, was not considered trustworthy. In his cups he was quarrelsome and as choleric as a Welshman; and a fondness for liquor was his besetting sin.

He was an excellent accountant and an efficient clerk, but could hardly be relied on when a clear head and cool judgment were required.

A short time before I became acquainted with Murray, he had quarreled at a dinner party with a Mr. Reed, the manager of a coffee plantation. The lie was exchanged, a blow was struck; a challenge was given and accepted on the spot. The next morning the parties met, with their seconds, firmly bent upon shooting each other. There was no flinching on the part of the princ.i.p.als; no desire evinced to give or receive an apology. The seconds, however, were made of milder stuff; and neither of them being Irishmen, thought they would be justified in rendering the duel a bloodless one, and transforming a grave matter into a harmless joke.

They accordingly loaded the pistols with powder only, keeping the bullets in their pockets; probably taking the hint from the well-blazoned proceedings in the duel fought at Chalk farm, a few years before, between Jeffries and Moore,

"When Little's leadless pistol met the eye, While Bow Street myrmidons stood laughing by."

The word was given, and both parties fired. No harm was done; but apologies were out of the question, and "another shot" was loudly and peremptorily called for, and the distance, eight paces was shortened to six. The farce was again repeated, when Murray, wondering at the bloodless result, espied a smile on the features of his second, which did not seem in keeping with the gravity of the occasion. His suspicions were aroused; and the seconds, on being charged with duplicity, acknowledged the fact, adding that it would be worse than folly to shoot each other, and suggesting that they should shake hands, take a good breakfast together, and, in a Christian spirit, banish all enmity from their hearts.

This advice, so wise in itself, was not taken in good part by either of the princ.i.p.als. They were indignant at having been imposed upon, and made a laughing-stock to the community. Murray could not control his temper, but threw his pistol at the head of his second, cutting him badly in the face, and knocking him over; he chased the second of his antagonist off the field, and then offered his hand to the man whom he had twice attempted to shoot, which in a kind spirit was heartily grasped; and the two princ.i.p.als in the duel, who, five minutes before, eagerly thirsted for each other's blood, rode off together sworn friends and brothers, and were afterwards as great cronies as the Irish Bard and the Scotch reviewer.

Mr. Orr, the manager of the Upper Pearl, who left the estate, bowed down by disease, on the evening of my arrival, had a narrow escape from death. When he recovered, after a severe illness of several weeks, he refused to resume his situation, declaring he had got enough of the Pearls to last him his lifetime.

Mr. Church rode over from his residence every morning, and gave instructions, which I carried out to the best of my ability. The reputation of the Pearl estates for fevers was such, it was difficult to find a respectable person who would take the station of manager, or, if he accepted the situation, relying on the strength of his const.i.tution, he was not wont to occupy it long. One of that description was engaged after Orr's resignation was received, but he was driven off in a few weeks by an attack of fever and ague, which nearly shook him to atoms.

Another, of more doubtful character, was subsequently engaged, but he was found by the attorney tipsy before eleven o'clock in the forenoon.

Had it been in the afternoon, it might have been excused; but to get drunk in the morning was an unpardonable offence. In vain he pleaded that he had taken only a few drops to neutralize the effects of the malaria; he was discharged.

After a few months' residence on this plantation, breathing by night and by day the foul and noxious miasma from the swamps, and just as I began to flatter myself that my const.i.tution would weather the storm, I experienced an attack of headache, chills, and fever. By dint of resolution and nerve, which will accomplish much, I succeeded in throwing it off, being determined not to succ.u.mb through imagination or fear. A few days afterwards the attack was renewed with greater violence, and I was compelled to admit its reality, and acknowledge the supremacy of remittent fever. Mr. Church manifested much interest in my behalf. He caused a skillful physician to attend me, and promptly provided me with every thing the occasion required, excepting a salubrious atmosphere; and on being told that this was indispensable to my recovery, he generously caused me to be transported on a litter to "Bel-Air," the beautiful and healthy villa in which he resided. Here I was provided with a comfortable apartment, and received the kindest attention from Mrs. Church. After a severe struggle the fever left me in a weak and emaciated condition, and weeks elapsed before I was permitted to resume my duties of the estate.

My wardrobe, although it had been replenished by Bohun, in a style which I thought unnecessarily liberal was still far from approaching what, by persons of simple tastes, would be called genteel. As I was now liable to be thrown into the company of the WELL-DRESSED visitors to Bel-Air, it was thought by Mr. Church perhaps at the suggestion of his wife that some improvement in my external appearance might be desirable.

Accordingly, one day, on returning from a journey to St. George, he brought me, greatly to my astonishment, a dress coat, of bottle-green hue, much too large, which he had purchased ready-made; a pair of stockinet pantaloons, too tight for even my slim shanks, and a flashy-looking vest, which, for aught I know, may have been made of the stuff called "thunder and lightning;" so that, when rigged out in my genteel habiliments, I must have looked not unlike Moses, in the "Vicar of Wakefield," going to the fair, but far more ridiculous!

I cared less about the effect I might produce in my unaccustomed finery than the expense of such luxuries, which I knew I could not afford, and which would inevitably subject me to much inconvenience. My salary, I found on inquiry, was a nominal one, barely sufficient to furnish me with ordinary comforts. I had already incurred a serious debt in the purchase of a saddle and bridle and other articles which I could not dispense with; and although I fully believed Mr. Thomas would never call upon me to refund his disburs.e.m.e.nts on my account in St. George, I knew human nature too well to suppose that Mr. Church would not deduct from my salary the price of those genteel articles of dress, which were of no more use to me than a marlinspike to a dandy. Indeed, had I indulged in such unreasonable hopes, I should have been undeceived when a bill for sundries from a trader came to hand, of an amount far exceeding my expectations, with a polite request that I would transmit the money at the earliest convenience!

There was no help; I had put my hand to the plough, and must go forward.

I thus found myself enchained to the island for at least twelve months.

Indeed, a longer period than that must elapse before I could expect, by the closest economy, to pay off the debts I had incurred. I now, too late, regretted that I had listened to the representations of Bohun, and allowed him to manifest his GRAt.i.tUDE for my services, the consequences of which served to embarra.s.s me, and place me in a position which I did not covet; for which I was not calculated by habit or inclination, but from which I could see no means of escaping.

I returned to the Pearl estate and resumed my avocations. Months pa.s.sed away; and although an occasional chill, followed by fever, reminded me that I was continually breathing an unhealthy atmosphere, I felt a sanguine hope that I should not again be affected by diseases incident to the climate, and that I had already qualified myself for the honorary degree which was referred to by my friend Murray. My hopes were fallacious. I was again attacked by a remittent fever of an obstinate character. I was again conveyed to Bel-Air. The doctor was again summoned, and he had a difficult task in restoring me to health. But he protested against my return to the Pearl estate, declaring that another attack would place me beyond the reach of medical a.s.sistance.

It chanced that Mr. c.o.xall, a rich merchant of St. George, who had a lumber yard and depot of stores in Greenville, was in want of a clerk to look after his affairs in that place, and in consequence of Mr. Church's recommendation he gave me the situation. My duties were pleasant; and I often visited the plantations in the neighborhood, where I acquired a number of friends. My emoluments, however, were inconsiderable; I was in debt, and the amount of my pecuniary obligations was not lessened by the repeated visits of a popular physician during my sickness.

During this time I had not heard a word from Mr. Thomas, or Bohun, his clerk. I supposed they had forgotten me; but I did those gentlemen injustice. I had hardly been a year in the island when I received a letter from Mr. Thomas, enclosing a bill in the handwriting of Bohun, of every article with which I had been furnished in St. George, not omitting my board at two dollars and a half a day, which Bohun so roundly swore should be reduced at least two thirds. The sum total of the bill amounted to more than one hundred dollars, an enormous sum in my then straitened circ.u.mstances; and the letter contained an intimation that, having been a year in the island, and in regular employment, it was expected that I was able and willing to settle the accompanying bill!

Although I entertained faint hopes of being able at some future day to reimburse Mr. Thomas for his expenses on my account, I never expected that he would make out this bill, including even the most trifling item, or hold me responsible for the unpardonable blunder of Bohun in relation to my board, and subject me to the mortification of a dun. It appeared, however, that he considered all obligations, on his part, discharged, when an unenviable situation was procured for me on a plantation, where the chances were nine out of ten that I should find my grave within three months! I made a brief reply to this letter, in which I expressed my feelings without reserve; a.s.sured him he need not trouble himself further about his money; that if I lived he should receive the full amount, princ.i.p.al and interest, as soon as I could earn it.

This unexpected demand on my resources troubled me greatly. It had the effect to postpone, almost indefinitely, the time when I should leave Grenada, and return to the occupation I preferred, that of a mariner. I could not quit the island honorably or openly without paying my debts; and I could not for a moment entertain the idea of sneaking out of it in a clandestine manner. I was the only citizen of the United States in the island, and I persuaded myself that the honor and reputation of my country were identified, to a certain extent, with my conduct while exercising a humble employment in that secluded portion of the globe. It would be well if others, exercising duties of a more important nature, would recollect this fact; and when their consciences or sense of propriety are not sufficient to restrain them from unworthy acts, let them summon patriotism to their aid, and remember that the disgrace is not confined to themselves, but is shared by the land which gave them birth. By acting on this principle, our country would be more honored abroad than it now is.

After I left the Pearl estate I enjoyed excellent health, with the exception of an occasional attack of intermittent fever, a malady which, although distressing and debilitating, is seldom regarded as alarming.

Those only, who were liberally dosed some forty years ago with the powder of Peruvian bark, the sovereign remedy for fever and ague, can duly estimate the value of the services rendered to suffering humanity by the discovery of a mode of administering it in a concentrated form, that of QUININE.

Although some estates were regarded as healthy while others were notoriously the reverse, on no part of the island could persons be secure from those fatal diseases, most dreaded in a tropical climate, such as dysentery, and malignant or yellow fever. It was really startling to notice the sudden deaths which sometimes took place even among those who considered themselves acclimated, and were habitually in the enjoyment of excellent health. This may have been in part, owing to the irregular mode of living in a climate where the humanizing influence of female society was but little known. Dinner parties among the planters were frequent, where the most tempting liquors were produced, and excesses on such occasions, when fun and frolic were rife, were considered not only excusable but laudable.

I had been two years in the island, when I received an official notification that I was appointed one of the constables or civil officers of the district in which I resided, and was expected to qualify myself forthwith to perform my duties. Being well known as a citizen of the United States, I was greatly surprised at this event; and believing that I could not legally discharge the duties of any office of trust, honor, or emolument, however humble, under the British government, I hastened off at once to Mr. Lumsden, an old, and highly respectable planter, who resided on his own estate, and had acted as a magistrate for many years.

"Mr. Lumsden," said I, exhibiting the doc.u.ment, "I have been appointed a constable for this district."

"Well, what of that? The appointment is a good one. I recommended you myself."

"I am obliged to you for your good opinion," said I, "but you know very well that I am a citizen of the united States; have never taken the oath of allegiance to the British government, and never intend to; consequently I am not eligible."

"Pooh, pooh! Nonsense! That makes not a farthing's difference. You will do well enough."

"And more than that," I continued, "I am only nineteen years of age; that alone is sufficient to incapacitate me."

"Young man," said the magistrate, with all the solemnity and wisdom of a Dogberry, "whether you are a Yankee or a Calmuck, whether your are sixty years old or sixteen, it matters not. You have been appointed a constable for this district, AND A CONSTABLE YOU SHALL BE. So no more frivolous excuses. If you do not prepare yourself to act in that capacity when called upon I will cause you to be reported and fined."

There was no more to be said; the argument relating to the fine was unanswerable; and I caused myself to be qualified forthwith. The duties were not arduous. The only official duty required of me, during my term of office, was to summon a coroner's jury, on one occasion, to sit on the body of a runaway slave, who was stabbed by a watchman while committing depredations on some "negro gardens" in the night time.

Mr. c.o.xall finally gave up his establishment in Greenville, and I was obliged to look elsewhere for employment. A newspaper was published at St. George, owned and edited by an Englishman, who had been a non-commissioned officer in the regiment which was disbanded in the island a few years before. I had then, even at that early age, some indefinite hankering after newspaper life, and having picked up a crude ma.s.s of knowledge, incongruous and undigested, perhaps, from the many books I had devoured, I flattered myself that I could render good service as a.s.sistant editor of the St. George Chronicle. I accordingly offered my services to the proprietor, but found him less liberal in his opinions than the worthy sons of Scotia with whom I had been intimately a.s.sociating. His prejudices against the Yankees were unconquerable. He did not even reply to my letter, but stated to a friend of mine that he must be very hard pushed before he would take a YANKEE into his office to a.s.sist in printing and editing an English newspaper.

I again turned my attention to the planting business. A vacancy having occurred on the Hermitage estate, owing to the sudden death, by yellow fever, of a very promising young man from Aberdeen, who had been in the island only a few months, I succeeded, through the kind exertions of Mr.

Church, in obtaining the situation.

The Hermitage was one of the finest plantations in Grenada. It was pleasantly situated on elevated ground, a few miles from the sea sh.o.r.e, and was the residence of Mr. Houston, a gentleman of great respectability, who was attorney for the estate, and also for the plantation adjoining, called Belmont. Some years previously the Hermitage had been the residence of the owner of these estates, an Englishman named Bailey. He had spared no expense in stocking the grounds with fruits of various kinds, had planted bread-fruit and bread-nut trees, which, besides proving ornamental, furnished nutritive food for the slaves. Mr. Houston found, however, that the fruit orchards required more labor and care to keep them in good condition than could be profitably spared from other duties; and the beautiful and umbrageous bread-fruit and bread-nut trees shaded some portions of the fertile land capable of producing good sugar cane. The axe was, therefore, freely used, and, one after another, nearly all the trees which produced this excellent fruit were cut down. Other fruit trees, as the orange, the guava, pomegranate, avocado pear, golden apple, water lemon, soursop, etc. grow spontaneously on almost every plantation, and furnish an abundance and a variety of refreshing, nutritious food, at different seasons. Plantains, peas, ca.s.sava, kalliloo, yams, and several other kinds of esculent vegetables, some of which bear a close resemblance to the potato in every thing excepting the form, are raised in abundance with very little labor. The calabash tree is also found growing wild on every estate. It resembles an apple tree of moderate dimensions, and bears calabashes of every size, from those which contain several gallons to those which hold only half a pint. These calabashes are of great value on a plantation, being used as vessels for all purposes and occasions except for cooking.

It is hardly necessary to say that my debt to Mr. Thomas was liquidated as soon as I could obtain the means, even by antic.i.p.ating my salary; and I eagerly looked forward to the time when, by exercising the strictest economy, I should be able to quit a place where, notwithstanding many things which were unpleasant, I had found valuable friends and enjoyed many comforts, and had been treated by all with whom I came in contact with confidence and kindness. During my stay, my feelings were never hurt by ungenerous allusions to my native country. Whatever unpleasant a.s.sociations were produced, from time to time, among the planters by the pa.s.sing events of the war, they were restrained by a feeling of delicacy, which I could duly appreciate, from indulging in offensive remarks in my hearing. On one occasion their forbearance, politeness, and respect for myself were put to a severe test.

The war between Great Britain and the United states deprived the inhabitants of the British West India colonies of many comforts and luxuries which they enjoyed when free intercourse was maintained between the United States and the different ports in the English islands. During the war, all the stores and provisions, lumber, and other important materials required on the plantations, were conveyed thither from ports in Great Britain in ships sailing under convoy of men-of-war. The arrival of these ships, which took place at certain seasons, when the produce was ready for shipping, was anxiously expected, as they were freighted not only with useful articles for the estates, but also contained generous lots of hams, porter, cheese, wines, and other delicacies and condiments, ordered by the planters themselves for their especial benefit and enjoyment. It was a day of jubilee and rejoicing when a ship known to be freighted with these "good things" and "creature comforts" arrived safely in port.

At the proper season, in 1814, the good ship Corunna, of Bristol, was expected at Greenville. This ship was an old trader, and the captain had been intrusted with many commissions, which, as he was an honest and faithful man, it was not doubted he would execute satisfactorily. Most of the planters in that part of the island were looking out anxiously every day for the arrival of the Corunna. Their private stores had been long exhausted, and they longed to have them replenished. The ship was an unreasonable time on her pa.s.sage.

It was Sunday afternoon. I was dining with Mr. Stevenson, the manager of the Tivoli estate, in company with several planters. The house was situated on an elevated spot, and commanded a fine view of the sea, extending nearly from the Grenadines to LaBaye, the port of Greenville.

It was distant from the sea sh.o.r.e not more than a couple of miles.

Suddenly, on looking out of the front windows of the dining hall, a large ship was seen under full sail, coming with a fair wind from the direction of the Grenadines and steering towards LaBaye.