Chapter XVI
"The sea-breach'd vessel can no longer bear
The floods that o'er her burst in dread career.
The labouring hull already seems half fill'd
With water, through an hundred leaks distill'd:
Thus drench'd by every wave, her riven deck,
Stript and defenceless, floats a naked wreck."
FALCONER.
Newton remained at Bridgetown, under the roof of Mr Kingston, for more than three weeks, by which time the brig was laden, and waiting for convoy to proceed to England.
Mr Berecroft had made every preparation for his voyage, when an unexpected circumstance occurred, which eventually proved the occasion of great hardship and danger to Newton. This was, the master of a large ship belonging to the same owners, and then lying in Carlisle Bay, to proceed homeward by the same convoy, had so ingratiated himself with a wealthy widow residing upon the island, that rather than he should again trust himself to the fickle element, she had been induced to surrender up to him her plantation, her negroes, and her fair self,—all equally bound to honour and obey through their future lives.
Mr Berecroft, in consequence of this resignation of his brother captain, was appointed to the command of the larger vessel; and Jackson, the first mate, ordered to take the command of the Eliza and Jane. This was a sad blow to Newton, and one which he could not avoid, as Mr Berecroft could not take him in his new ship,—all the subordinate situations being already filled up.
At first, he was inclined to quit the brig; but by the advice of Mr Berecroft and Kingston, he was persuaded to go the passage home, as he was now first mate of the vessel, and would incur forfeiture of all wages if he broke the articles which he had signed at Liverpool. Unpleasant as the prospect was, he was further induced by Berecroft's assurance, that now Jackson was provided for, he would arrange with the owners that Newton should be appointed the first mate of his own ship, as soon as they arrived in England.
In a few days the men-of-war made their appearance. Newton, who had remained on shore until the last moment, shook hands with his friendly patron, and thanking Mr Kingston for his kindness, went on board of the vessel with a sorrowful and foreboding heart.
Nor was he at all inclined to cheer up as he stepped on the deck of the brig, and beheld Jackson with a handspike, still brandishing over his head, standing across the body of one of the seamen, whom he had just dashed to the deck with the implement in his hand. At the sight of Newton, the wrath of the new captain appeared to be increased. He eyed him malevolently, and then observed, with a sneer, "That's what all skulkers may expect on board of my vessel."
Newton made no answer, and Jackson went forward, where the remainder of the crew were heaving up the anchor with the windlass. Newton walked up to the seaman, who appeared still insensible, and examined him. The iron plate at the end of the handspike had cut deep into the skull, and there was every appearance of a contusion of the brain.
Calling the boy who attended the cabin, Newton, with his assistance, carried the man below, and laid him in his berth. He then repaired on deck, and took the helm, the anchor of the brig being atrip. In a quarter of an hour the sail was on her, and she followed the course steered by the men-of-war, who were about to run through the other islands, and pick up several vessels, who were waiting for their protection.
"If you expect an easy berth as first mate, you are mistaken, my joker," said Jackson to Newton, as he steered the vessel; "you've skulked long enough, and shall now work double tides, or take the consequence. If you don't, I'll be d——d!"
"I shall do my duty, Mr Jackson," replied Newton, "and fear no consequences."
"Indeed! You saw how I settled a skulk just now;—beware of his fate!"
"I neither anticipate it, nor fear it, Mr Jackson. If it comes to handspikes, two can play at that game. I rather think that before many hours are over you will be sorry for your violence, for I believe that man to be in considerable danger. Even now, I should recommend you to demand surgical assistance from the frigate."
"Demand it, if you dare—I am captain of this ship, sir. The rascal may die—and be d——d!"
To this disgusting speech Newton made no reply. He had made up his mind to put up with everything short of downright aggression, and for three days more he obeyed all orders, however arbitrary and however annoying. During this period the man who had been injured became gradually worse: his illness increased rapidly; and on the fifth day he became delirious, and in a state of high fever, when Newton again pointed out the propriety of asking surgical aid from one of the men-of-war. This suggestion was answered by Jackson, who was now really alarmed, with a volley of oaths and execrations, ending with a flat refusal. The crew of the brig murmured, and collected together forward, looking occasionally at the men-of-war as they spoke in whispers to each other; but they were afraid of Jackson's violence, and none ventured to speak out. Jackson paced the deck in a state of irritation and excitement as he listened to the ravings of his victim, which were loud enough to be heard all over the vessel. As the evening closed, the men, taking the opportunity of Jackson's going below, went up to Newton, who was walking aft, and stated their determination that the next morning, whether the master consented to it or not, they would hail the frigate, and demand surgical assistance for their shipmate. In the midst of the colloquy, Jackson, who hearing the noise of the people overhead coming aft, had a suspicion of the cause, and had been listening at the bottom of the ladder to what was said, came up the hatchway, and accusing Newton of attempting to raise a mutiny, ordered him immediately to his cabin, stating his intention of sending him on board of the frigate the next morning to be placed in confinement.
"I shall obey your order," replied Newton, "as you are in command of this vessel. I only hope that you will adhere to your resolution of communicating with the frigate." So saying, he descended the companion hatch.
But Jackson, who, both from the information of the cabin-boy, and the fact that the incoherent ravings of his victim became hourly more feeble, thought himself in jeopardy, had no such intention. As the night closed in, he remained on deck, gradually taking off first one sail and then another, until the brig was left far astern of the rest of the convoy, and the next morning there was no other vessel in sight; then, on pretence of rejoining them, he made all sail, at the same time changing his course, so as to pass between two of the islands. Newton was the only one on board who understood navigation besides Jackson, and therefore the only one who could prove that he was escaping from the convoy. He was in confinement below; and the men, whatever may have been their suspicions, could not prove that they were not steering as they ought.
About twelve o'clock on that day the poor sailor breathed his last. Jackson, who was prepared for the event, had already made up his mind how to proceed. The men murmured, and proposed securing Jackson as a prisoner, and offering the command to Newton. They went below and made the proposal to him; but he refused, observing, that until it was proved by the laws of the land that Jackson had murdered their shipmate, he was not guilty, and therefore they had no right to dispossess him of his command; and until their evidence could be taken by some of the authorities, he must remain; further pointing out to them, that as he could be seized immediately upon his arrival at an English port, or falling in with a man-of-war during their passage, the ends of justice would be equally answered, as if they committed themselves by taking the law into their own hands.
The men, although not satisfied, acquiesced, and returned to their duty on deck. Jackson's conduct towards them was now quite altered; he not only treated them with lenity, but supplied them with extra liquor and other indulgences, which, as captain, he could command. Newton, however, he still detained under an arrest, watching him most carefully each time that he was necessitated to come on deck. The fact was, Jackson, aware that his life would be forfeited to the laws of his country, had resolved to wreck the brig upon one of the reefs to the northward, then take to his boats, and escape to one of the French islands. At his instigation, the body of the man had been thrown overboard by some of the crew, when they were in a state of half intoxication.
Newton, who had been below four days, had retired as usual to his hammock, when a sudden shock, accompanied by the fall of the masts by the board, woke him from a sound sleep to all the horrors of shipwreck. The water pouring rapidly through the sides of the vessel, proved to him that there was no chance of escape except by the boats. The shriek, so awful when raised in the gloom of night by seamen anticipating immediate death, the hurried footsteps above him, the confusion of many voices, with the heavy blows from the waves against the side of the vessel, told him that the danger was imminent, even if escape were possible. He drew on his trousers, and rushed to the door of his cabin. Merciful Heaven! what was his surprise, his horror, to find that it was fastened outside. A moment's thought at the malignity of the wretch (for it was indeed Jackson, who, during the night, had taken such steps for his destruction) was followed by exertions to escape. Placing his shoulders against his sea-chest, and his feet against the door, his body in nearly a horizontal position, he made a violent effort to break open the door. The lock gave way, but the door did not open more than one or two inches; for Jackson, to make sure, had coiled down against it a hawser which lay a few yards further forward in the steerage, the weight of which the strength of no five men could remove. Maddened with the idea of perishing by such treachery, Newton again exerted his frantic efforts—again and again, without success. Between each pause, the voices of the seamen asking for the oars and other articles belonging to the long-boat, proved to him that every moment of delay was a nail in his coffin. Again and again were his efforts repeated with almost superhuman strength; but the door remained fixed as ever. At last, it occurred to him that the hawser, which he had previously ascertained by passing his hand through the small aperture which he had made, might only lay against the lower part of the door, and that the upper part might be free. He applied his strength above, and found the door to yield: by repeated attempts he at last succeeded in kicking the upper panels to pieces, and having forced his body through the aperture, Newton rushed on deck with the little strength he had remaining.
The men—the boat—were not there: he hailed, but they heard him not; he strained his eyes—but they had disappeared in the gloom of the night; and Newton, overcome with exhaustion and disappointment, fell down senseless on the deck.