CHAPTER XVII.—David Clark.
Fortune when she deserted Wilkinson politically, deserted him financially. The river trade partnership with Major Dunn proved a failure and was dissolved, leaving Wilkinson heavily indebted to Dunn, an obligation he never met. In midsummer, 1791, his partnership with Peyton Short ended so disastrously as to make him a bankrupt. His only source of income now was the two thousand dollar pension which he received from Spain and it was altogether inadequate to meet his extravagances.
Having in mind to get beyond the vexatious importunities of his creditors, he filed an application for reappointment in the United States army, which received favorable action. He was first appointed a lieutenant colonel under General Whayne and stationed at Fort Washington, Cincinnati, and the next year advanced to a brigadier generalship.
John Calvin Campbell, riverman, known to the crew only as John, was the operator of a large sweep or steering car on a Wilkinson & Short flat boat, bound for New Orleans in the spring of 1791, Wilkinson’s last commercial venture.
Immediately upon his arrival, hunting up Daniel Clark, he inquired for news of David, but learned nothing except that several Spanish sailors and the American prisoner of the wrecked frigate had been swept ashore from their vessel; and that one of these sailors, Esteban Luna, was now in Habana and might be able to give him definite news of David.
[pg 266] Their conversation naturally turned to Wilkinson. Daniel, expressing the hope that he would some day be punished for his traitorous conduct, said: “I have absolute proof of his perfidy, but my position with the Spanish Government closes my mouth. Only to rescue David would I tell what I know; and with that purpose in view I have been making abstracts from certain letters which establish his guilt. I have two now in my pocket which I made today. This one is copied from a letter written by Wilkinson to Miro:
“* * * But you may rest assured that the constant persecution of Congress cannot produce the slightest impression on my attachment and zeal for the interests of Spain, which I shall always be ready to defend with my tongue, my pen and my sword.”
The Governor in reply to this letter wrote Wilkinson:
“* * * Your countrymen will soon find out that the advantages they expect from the navigation of the Mississippi, on their paying an import duty of 15 per cent when entering Louisiana and an export duty of 6 per cent when leaving it, amounts to nothing. So far, tobacco has been the only produce of any importance which they have brought to New Orleans and which the King has reserved to himself the privilege of buying. Should he not choose to do so on the ground that the article wanted is not furnished in sufficient quantity or not of the quality required, it would remain a dead weight in the hands of the owner. Several inhabitants who are now here have discovered this to be the case. With regard to your supposition that they will evade paying the duty of 15 per cent under the pretext of coining to settle in Louisiana, it is without any sort of foundation what ever, and you may rest assured that I shall take care that the law be executed on that point. * * * I much regret [pg 267] that General Washington and Congress suspect your connection with me, but it does not appear to me opportune that you declare yourself a Spaniard, for the reasons which you state. I am of opinion that this idea of yours is not convenient and that on the contrary it might have prejudicial results. Therefore continue to dissemble and to work as you promise and as I have above indicated.”
When Mr. Clark finished reading the above extracts, he handed them to John who placed them in his pocket without comment, and said: “Let us go at once and inquire when I can sail for Habana. I must find out and at once all this sailor knows. I believe the suspense will kill my aunt.”
“I am quite sure a ship sails tomorrow noon; we will make certain and engage your cabin. My father has a branch house in Habana and buys quite a lot of tobacco. I wrote his agent several days ago to interview the sailor and he has doubtless found him by now.”
They walked to the wharf and in a short time located the ship. Mr. Clark knew the captain, who spoke English. He introduced Mr. Campbell and engaged his cabin. When they were leaving the captain said: “Mr. Campbell, I am glad to have you for a passenger and will most cheerfully aid you in locating Esteban Luna. We will have no trouble in finding him. I know just where to look for sailors in Habana. You better come aboard by eleven o’clock, we sail at twelve, sharp.”
After an uneventful voyage of several days the ship anchored in Habana harbor. Mr. Campbell came ashore with the captain and about the first person the captain saw was the sailor they sought. They invited him to the tavern, where dinner was ordered for the three. After they had been eating some time, the captain noticing that John, who had ordered the dinner, had not included wine, [pg 268] which all Spaniards drink at dinner, supplemented the meal by a liter of strong red wine. Then turning to John asked in English: “Just what is it you desire to learn from the sailor? In a few minutes he will grow quite talkative; nothing loosens a Spaniard’s tongue like a good dinner and a bottle of wine.”
Having learned what was wanted the captain put several questions to the sailor, which he answered in monosyllables, as he was not quite through eating. When he had eaten a little more and finished the wine, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, tilted back the chair on which he sat, lighted a long cigarette and gave a grunt of contentment. Then the captain knew he was ready to talk and asked him to tell of his shipwreck off the African coast.
“You see it was this way: we were about three days out from the Strait of Gibraltar when it came on to blow the hardest I have ever seen in my fifteen years before the mast. We would have gone down in the first few hours, except that our frigate was the stanchest of the navy. For a while we pointed her nose angling to the wind and as best we could kept our course. It was no use, we had to turn tail and run with the wind; and that frigate under bare poles made greater speed than she would sailing in a fair wind before a stiff breeze with all sail set. On the second night, near daybreak, when it was so dark because of the spray and rain and clouds that you could not see your hand before you, nor hear a sound because of the roar of the wind and the pounding of the waves and the creaking of the ship, she was suddenly thrown in the air and seemed to come down in a thousand pieces. Many of the boys were killed outright as she was crushed as a nail keg by a sledge. Quite a few of those on deck were thrown clear over the rock into a quieter [pg 269] sea and swept upon a sandy beach, even into the desert grass, where the water rarely reached. There we lay waiting in the darkness until the day, too exhausted and wounded to move. With daylight all clouds vanished and the moisture of the spray and storm was soon wiped out by a hot, drying sun. We seemed in a land where it never rained. There was a fringe of salt water grasses on the edge of the beach and beyond nothing but gray and brown sand; a land as bare as the palm of your hand; of sand hills that shifted over night, riftling and moving like the surface of the ocean, riled by a squall.
“With daylight, the least crippled, searching along the beach, gathered together a few casks of provisions, some cordage, a torn sail and one small cask of water. With the broken timbers of our ship and the sail we built a rude shelter from the parching sun; then a signal fire upon a nearby sand hill, hoping thus to attract the attention of a ship, if any ever passed that way. Thus we spent the first day and night.
“On the morning of the second day, the prisoner, his name was Clark, and two of the sailors, being the least injured of any of us, went into the sand hills looking for food and water, as we had nothing but wet biscuit flour and salt pork. They climbed the highest sand hill and came running back, saying: ‘We have seen one of the ship’s boats; it is lodged in a crevice just over the crest of the big rock, else you could see it from here. We will swim out and bring it ashore.’
“These three, with Antonio, the cook, and I swam to the rock and after much labor lowered the boat and pulled ashore. It was fitted out as required by the ship’s rules, with a set of oars, a small cask of water, like the one we had found on the beach, a case of biscuits and a small sail; all securely strapped inside. By overloading, [pg 270] it might have kept afloat with eighteen persons. Out of a crew of ninety-two, twenty-seven of us had survived the wreck; of these two had broken legs, one a broken back and several broken or dislocated arms; and all were cut and bruised by the jagged rocks.
“It was decided that we five who brought the boat ashore should have places in the boat as also thirteen others who should draw lots, and so all did except the man with the broken back.
“While Clark and his two companions again made search for food and water we prepared and launched the boat, tying it to a stake awaiting their return.
“Five men who had lost out in the drawing, arming themselves with heavy clubs from the wreckage, rushed out, climbed into the boat and shoved out to deep water. There they rested, saying: ‘Ten more may swim out to us, one at a time, and we will let them aboard.’ So again those of us on the beach drew lots, disregarding the claims of the badly crippled and the three absent men. As each lucky man drew a place he swam out and was hauled aboard. After the boat was loaded, as there was ample room for another man, we agreed to wait off shore until the three hunters returned and take one of them in with us.
“In a little while they came running towards the beach pursued by a troop of Arabs, camel-back and carrying long muskets and great curved knives.
“The man, Clark, seeing the boat some distance from the shore, loaded and pulling away, turned towards the Arabs and held up his hands in surrender. One of them, dismounting, bound his hands behind his back. The others rode forward to the water’s edge and fired a volley at us. Two of the five men who had captured our [pg 271] boat were killed, the others were unhurt. Then we pulled out beyond musket range.
“The Arabs killed the crippled men; then they drank the water from the cask and divided the flour and other stores, including the clothing of the dead sailors; but as they considered the pork unfit food for a true believer, made signs to the prisoners to divide it up and carry it for their food; and each made a small bundle wrapping it in scraps of sail cloth. They also made signs for them to drink from the cask and after they had finished one of the camels drank the remainder. Then driving their prisoners before them they disappeared among the sand hills.
“When we were satisfied they were no longer in the vicinity, we came ashore for a short while, then setting up the sail, sailed northward along the coast.
“Our boat seemed to be leaking, and the water in the bottom soon became discolored by the blood of the two sailors the Arabs had killed and by the dirt from our shoes. When several asked for a drink, our lieutenant, the only officer who survived and who had assumed command, examining the cask, discovered that it had been perforated by a bullet and that more than two-thirds of the water had leaked out and run into the boat.
“Telling us what had happened, he forbade anyone to drink from the cask, saying: ‘We have at least a hundred mile voyage before us. One drink a day for each man is all you can have. If you are thirsty drink the water in the bottom of the boat, it is fresh.’ He set the example by doing so; and more than half of us within the hour drank our fill of the dirty, blood-discolored water; and we nine who drank were the only ones who lived to reach the coast of Spain.
[pg 272] “The man, Clark, I am satisfied, is alive, but held as prisoner or slave by some Barbary pirate or desert chief.”
This finished the sailor’s narrative. Mr. Campbell and the Captain were both satisfied that he had told them the truth and realized that it was useless to pursue the investigation or unaided attempt the rescue of David Clark. The only hope lay in his escape if near the coast; if in the interior, which was very probable, only Captain Eaton, the United States minister, dealing directly with the Barbary powers could effect his rescue. There was nothing for John to do but return to New Orleans and this he did on the return trip of the vessel.
There, having told Daniel Clark what he had learned, he asked his assistance in finding a way to return to Kentucky, and was told:
“That is easy. Governor Miro is sending some papers to Colonel Portell of New Madrid, and Mr. Owen, his messenger, leaves tomorrow in a pirogue and can make room for you. The boat you came down on left three days ago, but you can soon overtake it. We will hunt up Mr. Owen. Be sure not to tell him you are unfriendly to Wilkinson.”
When Mr. Owen learned that John was a friend of Mr. Clark’s and an experienced river man he readily consented, saying: “It seems providential, we are short-handed, the pirogue is a large one and a good hand with a paddle quite an acquisition. I have three men but need a fourth. If you make the trip through to New Madrid I will pay you regular wages.”
John was assigned the seat in the stern and Mr. Owen took the one next to him. Between them he placed three small kegs, which he looked after very carefully, saying: “They contain gun powder, which is badly needed at [pg 273] New Madrid. It is not much of a supply but will last until the arrival of the barge which follows us.” This John believed, until he had occasion to move one of the kegs to make room for his feet, then he was convinced by the weight and a jingling noise, that they contained coin.
The three men who had been hired for the journey proved to be adepts with the paddle; and hugging the shore to avoid the current they made good headway. On the seventh day they passed the boat on which John had made the down trip and in due course arrived at New Madrid where the three kegs and some papers were delivered to Colonel Portell, the commandant of the fort.
After remaining several days they boarded a galiot commanded by Captain Langois and were carried to the mouth of the Ohio. There the vessel tied up, the pirogue was relaunched, the kegs placed in it and the original crew, supplemented by two Spaniards from the galiot, paddled off up the Ohio.
John felt apprehensive of the rivermen and so informed Mr. Owen. He even suggested that when night came they should conceal the three kegs in the forest and travel along the river bank until they could find a canoe, when they could return for them. It was impossible to take their own as two of the rivermen slept in it.
Mr. Owen first laughed at this suggestion; then grew suspicious of John, thinking it was his purpose to separate him from his companions and rob, possibly murder, him. When he expressed his suspicions, John became offended and refused to accompany him further, though he again warned him against the designs of his companions; at which Mr. Owen, with an oath, jumped into the canoe and ordered the men to shove off, leaving John on the bank. Calling a good-bye he wished them a successful voyage to Fort Washington, their destination; then [pg 274] turned into the forest and two weeks later arrived at Campbell Station.
Some months later, he learned from Daniel Clark that the three kegs had contained six thousand dollars, sent by Governor Miro to General Wilkinson, who was then stationed at Fort Washington; and that Owen had been murdered by his crew for the money. Three of them were apprehended, and though guilty were permitted to escape, for fear that at their trial it might be disclosed that the money was the pension of Wilkinson and Sebastian.
————
John had been four months from home. As he drew near he saw his wife standing in the doorway, looking down the road, watching for his coming. When she saw him she held high their infant son, now almost two months old.
“* * * And how have you been?”
“As happy as were possible with you away. What do you think of the boy? Stop kissing me and look at him.”
“What a fine little fellow, a soul entrusted to our keeping. How can a woman endure to live without being a mother? See how he smiles into our faces; not that he knows us; but he looks through the gates of heaven and takes us for angels. Son, I guess your mother thinks you know me, but your only thoughts are of heaven and your stomach. In an instinctive way he likes you about; he connects you with the joy of living.”
“John! John! He thinks of you. He knows his father. Look how he opens wide his eyes and smiles into your face. I do believe he approves of his father—the little darling! Oh, you little deserter; you would leave your mother for him and after what he has said. That’s [pg 275] it; hold out your arms pleading: ‘Father take me in your strong arms; I will come back to mother when I am hungry.’ Oh, what a wonderful boy! Just two months old! Just like his father!”
“Oh wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother.”
The day following his return John rode over into Powell’s Valley, where Robert Marshall, who was substituting for him, was conducting a series of meetings. The people of the district liked Mr. Marshall, but told John that no one could ever fill his place.
He was also told that the people of Lincoln county, which at that time embraced nearly a fifth of Kentucky, were going to send him as delegate to the Constitutional Convention, which was to assemble at Danville on April 2, 1792, to draft the constitution for the new state, which was to be admitted into the Union on June 1, 1792.
At first he demurred; but when not only his neighbors but delegations from distant points in the county came to see him and insisted, he consented; giving all to understand that he would only run as an anti-slavery candidate; as did also Rev. David Rice and James Crawford, two other Presbyterian preacher candidates.
They were elected in December, 1791; and when the convention assembled quickly ascertained that the only real controversy was upon the issue of slavery or no-slavery for the new state.
The constitution as adopted was modeled after that of the United States, which in turn had been modeled after that of Virginia. This was quite logical as Kentucky had been settled by Virginians. Such modifications as were made in the instrument exhibit a more democratic spirit than the Virginia instrument. For the first time in the history of any state, all male citizens of age were given the right of suffrage, excepting only men convicted [pg 276] of felony and not pardoned. Ministers of the gospel were excluded from legislative bodies, a relict of British Conformist prejudice. No provision was made for a public school system. Slavery was recognized and approved after the bitter fight of the convention; though the opposition succeeded in placing in the constitution many limiting restrictions.
The leaders who fought out this issue ably seconded by their followers were David Rice and George Nicholas. Father Rice resigned on April 14, and was succeeded by Mr. Innes, who voted as his district instructed, against slavery; though he lacked the zeal for the cause that had fired his predecessor.
Article IX of the constitution dealing with slavery had been drafted by Nicholas. After many amendments, a motion was made to expunge it from the constitution. A vote on the motion was taken on April 18, and the record shows that all the ministers who were members of the convention voted in the affirmative. The motion was lost by a vote of 16 yeas and 26 nays. There were some who charged that the clause in the constitution providing that ministers of the gospel should be excluded from legislative bodies was due to the unanimity of their vote in opposition to slavery.
[pg 277]