Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale

by John Sherburne Sleeper

At Martinico I fell in with an Englishman, Captain William Parker, who had resided in the islands for many years, and was thoroughly acquainted with the trade in that part of the globe. He was then making preparations to engage in a sort of wholesale smuggling business, and had obtained possession, by hook or by crook, of two registers of American vessels. One was a BONA FIDE register of a privateer which had been captured during the war, and the other a forgery neatly executed by an artist in Martinico, having the signatures and seals duly arranged and perfected, but leaving blank the description of the vessel.

With these registers, valuable documents, in his estimation, having cost him no trifling sum, it was his wish to proceed to New York, and with the aid of some unscrupulous capitalist, purchase an English schooner, answering nearly to the description in the register of the privateer; or, failing in that, procure an English vessel of any kind suitable, and fill up the blanks with a description of the same in the other American register. Then with two captains, one English and one American, each acting as mate alternately, and with a crew who could be confided in, HE PROPOSED TO CARRY ON A DIRECT TRADE WITH THE ENGLISH ISLANDS, securing all the advantages, in the way of port charges and duties, of an American vessel in an American port and an English vessel in an English port! A few voyages successfully performed on this plan, he plausibly urged, would be productive of immense profit to all concerned.

Parker was desirous that I would embark with him in this enterprise, and act as the nominal American commander. But I had an instinctive repugnance to proceedings of such an underhand, unlawful character. This of itself would have been enough to lead me to reject his proposition; and furthermore I had no confidence in the man, or his ability to carry his project into operation. I thanked Parker for his friendly offer, and the COMPLIMENT it conveyed, but declined to enter into any engagement of the kind. Whether he succeeded in carrying his project into effect I never learned; but the same plan was successfully put into execution by an enterprising rogue about the same time, who undertook to run a vessel between Baltimore and Barbadoes, carrying out flour and bringing back coffee and sugar. He performed two trips successfully, but on the third got into trouble. One of the crew, who had been unadvisedly punished for insubordination, gave information to the authorities in Barbadoes, which put a period, for a time at least, to his enterprising pursuits.

A few days before I landed in St. Pierre, the brig Betsey, Captain
Blackler, arrived in the harbor from Marseilles. A large portion of her
cargo was discharged, and Captain Blackler concluded to send the brig
with the remaining portion, consisting of wine im casks, to New Orleans,
while he remained behind to transact important business for the owner
of the brig, William Gray, of Salem. Accordingly the mate, Mr. Adams, an
intelligent and highly deserving young man, belonging to Marblehead,
was placed in charge, and the mate of the unfortunate ship Cato, which
forsook her proper element to explore the streets of St. Pierre, and
could not get back, was engaged as mate of the Betsey.
I applied to Captain Blackler for a passage to New Orleans. The
brig was fully manned, with six stout, able-bodied seamen before
the mast, and cook, mate, and captain, nine in all. Captain Blackler
demanded forty dollars for a passage in the cabin; by no means an
exorbitant charge. Nevertheless this was a poser, as after paying for
my board, I had only twenty dollars remaining. This matter, however, was
satisfactorily settled by a COMPROMISE, a happy way of getting rid of a
difficulty. I proposed to advance twenty dollars before quitting
Martinico, and give an obligation for twenty more when the brig should
arrive at New Orleans; and he agreed to the proposition. But HOW I
should raise twenty dollars on reaching New Orleans, was a question I
could not answer, and did not like to consider. I strove hard to
convince myself I should never be called upon for payment, or if called
upon, that fortune would favor me by furnishing, in some way, the means.

Captain Blackler was a gentleman much respected and esteemed. He was a good specimen of an American shipmaster. When we got under way he came on board, apparently in good health and spirits, to bid us farewell. I shook hands with him as he stepped over the side. He gave some final instructions to Mr. Adams, who had assumed the command of the Betsey. They mutually wished each other continued health and prosperity, expressed a hope to meet before long in Marblehead, and parted NEVER TO MEET AGAIN! Before another week had passed they were both summoned before their God. It was afterwards ascertained that Captain Blackler was attacked by yellow fever a few days after the brig left Martinico, and was quickly added to the numerous band of victims to that disease.

The brig Betsey was about two hundred and twenty tons burden; a clump, dull-sailing craft, of rather venerable appearance, with no pretensions to youth or beauty, having braved the dangers of the seas for thirty years; nevertheless she was now apparently as sound, safe, and tight as any vessel that crossed the ocean. Captain Adams was a worthy man, of an amiable character, who had been educated to his business; and the mate, Mr. Ricker, had been commander of a ship, and was strongly recommended as an able and faithful officer. The crew were Americans, resolute-looking, powerful fellows, in robust health. There had been no sickness on board during the voyage; and all of them, including the captain and mate, were rejoiced to leave the island of Martinico. As the mountains faded in the distance they fancied they had left the yellow fever far behind, and congratulated each other on their good fortune.

Our route, as will be seen by examining a chart or a map, was a
remarkably interesting one. It extended through the Caribbean Sea, where
the trade winds blow unceasingly from the eastward, in a direction south
of some of the most beautiful and picturesque islands in the world, as
Porto Rico, St. Domingo, and Cuba, and ranged along in sight of Jamaica
and the Caymans, then rounded Cape Antonio, once the notorious haunt
of pirates, and entered the Gulf of Mexico. Leaving the harbor of St.
Pierre under such auspices, I anticipated a delightful trip and being a
passenger, with no duties to perform, and no responsibility resting on
my shoulders, I was prepared to enjoy the POETRY of a seafaring life.
The night following our departure there was a gentle breeze from
the eastward, the sea was smooth, and everything in the atmosphere,
on the ocean, or in the vessel gave promise of a pleasant passage. I
remained on deck that night until twelve o'clock, in conversation with
Captain Adams. He seemed in a particularly pleasant and communicative
mood; spoke of his past life, which had been but little clouded with
misfortune, and indulged in the most cheerful anticipations with regard
to the future.

The next day I learned that one of the seamen, named James Smith, belonging to Wiscasset, in Maine, was unable, from illness, to do his duty. I found that Smith was not a favorite with the crew, being a lazy fellow, who would act the part of an "old soldier" when an opportunity offered. As he did not seem very sick, and some thought he was feigning illness to avoid work, no alarm was excited in consequence.

There was a man on board the Betsey whose name was Gaskell; a tall, stalwart fellow, belonging to Greenbush, New York. He showed in his words and actions that he was unprincipled, a thorough reprobate, whose soul had been case-hardened in crime. This man ridiculed the illness of Smith; tried to rouse him from his berth in the half-deck; declared that he was "shamming Abraham," and threatened him with a rope's end unless he gave over skulking. Gaskell spoke of the mortality among the Frenchmen in Martinico, and this furnished him with an inexhaustible source of amusement. Indeed, human suffering, lingering death by shipwreck or disease, always moved him to mirth and laughter. And yet he was not deficient in intellect and education; but had used them for evil purposes. He was coarse, sensual, intemperate, and terribly profane. He boldly avowed a disbelief in a God, and sneered at the idea of punishment for crime in the future. He loved to talk of the yellow fever; he set that fearful disease at defiance, and said he never enjoyed himself so gloriously as he had done the year previously at Savannah, when the yellow fever was sweeping off the crews of the shipping in that port by hundreds, and he found employment as a carpenter, and cleared ten dollars a day by making coffins for the "Yankee" sailors. I felt from the outset that this Gaskell was a bad man, and a further knowledge of him confirmed my impression and increased my disgust.

In the course of the day I visited the half-deck, at the request of Captain Adams, to examine the condition of Smith. I found him in a feverish state, languid, his spirits much depressed, and with a slight headache. At the time I had no suspicion that he was visited with yellow fever, the disease appeared in so mild a form. Some medicine was given him, and it was expected that in a day or so he would recover his health.