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

by John Sherburne Sleeper

It was some time before they could sufficiently restrain their merriment to enlighten me on the cause of their mirth. I was then told, to my mortification, that my kind friend, the GENTLEMAN on whose benevolence and protection I had already built hopes of success in life, was neither more nor less than the captain of an armed clipper brig, a SLAVER, anchored in the outer roads, which had been for a fortnight ready for sea, but was detained in consequence of the desertion of three several crews, who had been induced by false representations to ship, and had deserted EN MASSE as soon as they learned the true character of the vessel and the voyage. He was now using all possible means to entrap a crew of men or boys for this abominable traffic, and was by no means particular in his choice.

This was a severe blow to my vanity. I felt not a little indignant at being so easily cajoled, played upon, and almost kidnapped by this unprincipled scoundrel. It was a valuable lesson, however; for experience is a good, although expensive teacher.

A few days passed away, when, one morning about three o'clock, as some members of the city patrol were passing through Church Street, they discovered a man, apparently n a dying state, lying in the street. He was conveyed to the guard house, or patrol station, where he died in the course of half an hour, without being able to articulate a syllable. Several wounds in different parts of his body, made by a small penknife, which was subsequently found, were undoubtedly the cause of his death. The unfortunate man thus murdered was the captain of the slaver, who had sought to entrap me by his honeyed words. A pool of blood was on the spot on which he was first discovered, and his steps could be traced by the blood on the pavements for several rods. The marks of blood were found only in the middle of the street; and none of the persons residing in that part of the city heard any disturbance, brawl, or cries for assistance in the course of the night.

The mysterious tragedy caused a great excitement. The police were unceasing in their efforts to discover the circumstances connected with this assassination, but in vain. The veil which concealed it was not lifted, and no clew was ever given by which even conjecture could develop the mystery.

It was supposed by some that the unfortunate man fell a victim to the rage of a jealous husband whose honor he had outraged, or of a lover whose affections he had supplanted. Others thought the fatal injuries he received were the result of a drunken quarrel, commenced in a gaming house; while many believed that private revenge inflicted the stabs, which, from their number and direction, appeared to have been given under the influence of ungovernable fury. Some thought the wounds were inflicted by a vigorous man, others, that a woman had imbrued her hands in his blood.

The first, and perhaps most natural supposition, was that some negro, knowing the character of the voyage which the murdered man had contemplated, had taken this desperate mode of arresting his proceedings. This theory, however, was soon generally abandoned for another. It was suggested that one of the sailors who had shipped in the slaver and subsequently deserted, knowing the captain was seeking them in every direction, had met him in the street, and fearful of being arrested, or seeking to revenge a personal wrong, had committed the terrible crime. This hypothesis was, doubtless, as false as either of the others, and more absurd. It was, nevertheless, adopted by the city authorities, and promptly acted upon, with a disregard to the rights of individuals which seems strangely at variance with republican institutions. The police force was strengthened, and on the evening succeeding the discovery of the murder received orders to arrest and place in confinement every individual seen in the streets wearing the garb of a sailor. This arbitrary edict was strictly enforced; and Jack, on leaving his home in the forecastle or a boarding house to visit the haunts of dissipation, or perhaps to attend to some pressing and important duty, was pounced upon by the members of the city guard, and, much to his astonishment and anger, and maugre his struggles, expostulations, and threats, was carried off without any assigned reason, and securely placed under lock and key.

Some two or three hundred of these unoffending tars were caught, captured, cribbed, and confined. No respect was paid to age, color or nation. They were huddled together in rooms of very moderate dimensions, which precluded, for one night at least, any idea of rest or comfort; and such a confusion of tongues, such anathemas against the city officials, such threats of vengeance, such rare specimens of swearing, singing, and shouting, varied occasionally by rough greetings and jeers whenever a new squad of blue jackets was thrust in among them, would have commanded the admiration of the evil dwellers in Milton's Pandemonium.

This arbitrary measure failed of success. The kidnapped sailors, on the following day, were separately examined in the presence of the mate of the brig, but no reasons were found for detaining a single individual.

A few days after this occurrence, Captain Tilton told me he had sold the brig Dolphin to a Captain Turner, of New York, a worthy man and his particular friend; that Captain Turner intended proceeding immediately to some neutral port in the West Indies. The non-intercourse act, at that time, prohibited all trade to places belonging to either of the great belligerent powers. He also said he had made no arrangements in regard to himself; that he was undecided what course to pursue, and might remain on shore for months. Anxious, however, to promote my interest by procuring me active employment, he had stipulated with Captain Turner that I should have "a chance" in the Dolphin, on her next voyage, before the mast. I had not a word to say against this arrangement, but gave my cheerful consent, especially as it was represented that Captain Turner would "treat me with kindness, and help me along in the world."

I was thus unceremoniously dismissed by Captain Tilton from his charge. Under the plea of promoting my interest, he had procured me a situation before the mast in an old, leaky vessel, which he had got rid of because she was not seaworthy, and commanded by a man of whose character he was entirely ignorant. I expressed gratitude to my kinsman for his goodness, notwithstanding I had secret misgivings in regard to his disinterestedness, and signed with alacrity "the articles" with Captain Turner. A new and interesting scene in the drama of life was about to open, and I looked forward with impatience to the rising of the curtain.