Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07

by Unknown

"After the funeral of Eliza, Mr H—— pleaded upon the captain to remain in Edinburgh; but he replied that he could not; all the scenes around only added to his melancholy, by recalling to his mind the lovely object he had lost for ever, and brought up the consciousness of the means—his own cruelty and jealous temper. In a few days we were once more on our way to London, where we arrived in safety, and found the Eliza moored at Rotherhithe. The captain resumed his active duties; and his grief was either more bearable, or, to blunt its edge, he entered more keenly into commerce. I was now appointed second mate. His wish was to obtain a distant freight, unmindful to what part of the world, so that the period of his absence from Britain might be the greatest. Not finding one so readily as he wished, he took a rich cargo on board upon his own account, fitted for the Indian market, and we left the Thames in November, 1751.

"For several years from this date, I was as happy as any human being could be, for we sailed the Indian Ocean from point to point, in all directions, encountering various turns of fortune, but still progressing towards wealth. I was myself rich, far beyond what I could ever have hoped to have been; and as for Captain H——, he had accumulated a fortune with which he was satisfied; his equanimity of mind was in some measure restored; he could talk at times of Eliza with a pleasing melancholy, and spoke of returning once more to Europe. As his vessel, the Eliza, was now old, and not safe for a home voyage, he resolved to sell her in the country, and return to Europe a passenger in the first commodious trader. This he actually did at Bombay, giving to each of his crew who had left England with him a handsome present, and the amount in cash of their passage-money home, that they might either return at his expense, or stay longer in the country, where there were great inducements, if they chose. Me, as my sincere friend, he strongly advised to remain for a few years longer, when I might return an independent man to Edinburgh.

"This was one of the golden opportunities every man has once in his power during his existence of bettering his circumstances for life. My evil destiny, or some other cause, made me reject it. I had, for several months back, as I had had several times before, a strong longing to visit Scotland once more. It is hardly possible for those who have never been for years absent from their native home, to imagine how overpowering this homesickness is, and how little will furnish to a languishing mind a plausible excuse for a return. I felt a conviction that I was not acting in the best manner for my own interest; yet I soothed down this feeling by the hope that I could return at any time, and pursue my fortune. To Captain H—— I stated my wish to return to Europe at all events, as I was weary of the Indian clime, and that, as I had left Edinburgh with him, I would, if he had no objections, return in the same vessel. He agreed; and thus we were again fated to go together.

"After remaining on shore inactive for some weeks, we embarked on board the Traussean, bound for Amsterdam. Would that I had been of the same turn of mind and resolution as Mr. Yates, our chief mate, who remained in the country, and soon sailed a vessel of his own! I saw him several years afterwards in London, living in wealth and independence, the produce of his toils in India. I gratified my wish at all hazards—he obeyed his better judgment; he had his reward—I had mine.

"From Bombay to the Cape of Good Hope we had a quick and pleasant run. We stopped at the Cape for three weeks, and took in refreshments and some passengers, amongst whom was an old, rich planter, on his return to Holland, taking with him a black boy, his slave, one of the merriest and most obliging creatures I ever saw. The little fellow soon became the favourite of every one on board. Pontoben was the joy of every one except his master, who was ever correcting or finding fault with him. In one of my sallies, I called the old planter Satan. He was worthy of the title, and it adhered to him like a burdockhead. A more forbidding figure I have never seen. Tall and bony, he had the appearance of a gigantic skeleton covered with shrivelled brown leather; his forehead, large and deeply-furrowed, rose over two shaggy eyebrows, that overshadowed eyes of light blue, keen and restless. There was a peculiar expression in his whole face that made even the most daring feel uneasy on beholding him; and, unless they were excited at the time by hatred towards him, few ever dared his eye. I myself felt that no inducement could ever make me look upon him as a kindred being; and, indeed, he rarely spoke to any of his countrymen. His harsh, sepulchral tones were seldom heard but in execrations of poor Pontoben, who would leave his master with the big drops of anguish, from punishment, rolling down his ebony face; and, in a few minutes after, be seen laughing and sporting with the seamen.

"On the evening of the seventh day after we had left Table Bay, the sun set like an immense globe of deep red fire, and the sky began to be overcast. The vessel was made all tight for the expected storm; and come, it did, soon after dark, with fearful force. All I had ever encountered could not be compared to its violence. The vessel pitched, groaned, and quivered, during the whole night, as if she would have gone to pieces; and, when day at length came, with no abatement of the storm, it only served to show us the extent of our danger. The sky was dark and lowering; heavy masses of clouds obscured the sun, and poured forth deluges of rain; the vessel laboured so much, and the wind was so strong, that no man on board could keep his feet, and the crew were lashed to different parts of the vessel, to prevent their being washed from the decks by the waves, which were every now and then making a complete breach over us. The captain and I shared the fatigues of the crew as we shared their danger. Another night of darkness and tempest, if possible more severe than the first, passed over our heads; still the vessel held good, and we hoped to weather the gale; when, just about an hour after daybreak, the wind chopped about nearly two points off the compass; the man at the helm, either through fatigue or mismanagement, allowed a tremendous sea to strike her too much forward, when she heeled so far over that a second wave laid her upon her beam ends. A cry of despair rose in one long, wailing sound, from every one on board; three of the crew were hurled into the mountainous ocean, and perished in a moment. The vessel had been making a considerable quantity of water, but not sufficient to cause alarm on that account; but now it was finding its way in by the companions from every wave that rolled over us. It is in moments such as these that the character of the seaman shines forth in all its lustre. For a few minutes, and no more, we were paralysed, and looked on in stupor, expecting to go down to the deep; still she floated—the larboard side only a few inches out of the water; the wind had perceptibly declined, still the sea ran as high as ever; and thus, for several hours, we clung to fastenings, in expectation of her going down every instant. We had it not in our power to do anything for our safety; it seemed as if her cargo had shifted in the hold, and the first heavy sea would finish all. I cannot say how long this lasted; the rage of the tempest at length died away, and it became possible for us to act. Her fore and mizzen masts were cut away, when she righted considerably; and then we commenced to throw what of her cargo we could get at overboard, altering the remainder until she righted. When hope once more dawned upon us, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, we stretched our weary limbs upon the deck, and sank to rest—the captain of the vessel taking the helm, and keeping watch with a few of his exhausted crew, who were soon relieved by short watches, until their strength was restored.

"Jurymasts were now erected, and we hoped to reach the coast of Portugal and refit; but our misfortunes had only commenced, for we found that our bread had been completely destroyed by the water we had made during the storm; and, besides, we were not provisioned for a very protracted voyage. It was at once agreed that both passengers and crew should go on short allowance; and, as our vessel was both leaky and sailed badly under her jurymasts, our prospects were now gloomy enough. Satan had never left his berth since the coming on of the storm; but lay and blasphemed, and beat poor Pontoben as usual, his temper having evidently become worse under his privations, though he had many preserves and luxuries of his own private property. The captain and myself kept up our spirits, in the expectation of falling in with some vessel bound for Europe, in which case we would leave the Traussean; but we were not so fortunate; for scarce were we refitted from the wrecks of the hurricane, when we were becalmed for three weeks. I shall not attempt to describe this our melancholy situation on the bosom of the ocean, that lay all around as still as death; its glassy brightness dazzling the eye under the intense rays of the sun, and our scanty supply of provisions rapidly wearing done. A lingering death from famine seemed inevitable; despair began to steal upon us; anxiety and fear were visible in the countenances of all. The pious became more fervent in their devotions, and the profane more choice in their expressions. All of us moved about the vessel like spectres, seldom exchanging words, every one seemingly absorbed in his own reflections. Vain was the attempt to call up a cheerful thought. If a laugh was heard, which some would attempt, it looked more like madness than mirth, and grated upon the ear like some unearthly sound; while tales of fearful import and sad forebodings alone could gain the attention of the listeners.

"This state of the ocean at length changed; a faint breeze sprang up; but, alas! it was unsteady and baffling, and our crippled vessel was ill adapted for any but a leading wind. By observation, we were nearly equidistant from the coast of Portugal and the Cape; otherwise, to save our lives, we would have run the wreck of the Traussean back to Table Bay. This plan was even urged by several of the crew; but overruled by the captain and majority; for the reason that we could not depend upon the wind lasting long enough to carry us there, and we had more chance to fall in with some vessel as we neared Europe. Scarcely able to stand to the pumps, for she needed clearing every twelve hours, we persevered in our course, the provisions being doled out in the smallest portions that could sustain nature, and diminished till we resembled skeletons more than men. When we commenced the voyage, there were a great many monkeys, parrots, and other birds, intended as gifts to friends in Europe. These had long since been consumed by their owners; even the vermin we were so fortunate as to catch were indeed a luxury; and every invention was put in practice to ensnare them. The preserves and private stock, everything that could sustain life, had been taken from Satan and the other passengers, and placed in the common stock; so that no one might fare better than his fellow. We had for some time looked at each other with an evil eye, and to wish for a death, that we might avoid the necessity of casting lots; for, strange to say, we clung to life the more tenaciously the more our sufferings increased. I have often since been amazed to think that, for trivial sufferings or wounded pride, men will voluntarily commit suicide; and yet, among twenty-five individuals, to any of whom a natural death would have been a kind relief, this fearful remedy was never thought of. With the keenest scrutiny we counted the ships crew and passengers every morning, in hopes that some one had died in the night. One morning, Pontoben, who had, even amidst the ill-usage he received from his master, stood it out better than any on board, was amissing, and a search was made for him through the ship in vain. At length he was found in his master's berth, beyond him, dead—the marks of strangulation upon his throat, evidence to us all that Satan had strangled him through the night. The body was at once demanded; but his master, with execrations, refused to deliver it up, as he maintained the boy was his own property, and he would 'keep it for his own use.' My blood ran cold as I looked upon the murdered boy and his savage master. The lifeless corpse was torn from him, and mangled, to be consumed; but neither Captain H—— nor myself could look upon the horrid mess, and several others were similarly affected; but Satan gloated over it, and cursed the others for depriving him of the whole.

"Our sufferings had now reached the limit of human endurance. We were unable to stand at the pumps even half-hour spells; and if we ceased to lighten the vessel we must soon founder. In this, our last extremity, it was at last agreed to cast the fatal lot, to ascertain who was to die to save the rest. We could sustain the gnawing of hunger no longer. Every article of leather, even our shoes, had been consumed. We were all assembled upon the quarterdeck, to bide our fate. Sunk and dispirited as we were by famine, we all clung to life with a more intense desire than we had ever done in more prosperous times. The arrangements were thus made:—a large china jar was placed upon the binnacle, into which was put a scroll of paper for each person on board, cut and folded exactly alike. On one was wrote, 'Gracious God, pardon my sins, and receive my soul, for Jesus' sake.' On the other, 'Merciful God, require not this innocent blood at my hands.' He that drew the first was to die, and he that drew the second was to be the executioner. All the other papers were blank. Everything was prepared before us in the most equitable manner. A period of thrilling suspense intervened, and, all being ready, the captain walked first, placed his hand in the jar, and drew a lot. In like manner, every one on board followed him, each holding his doom in his hand unopened until all was drawn. Another fearful pause ensued. Each feared to unroll his paper. Good God! the fatal scroll was in my hand, and Satan was to be my butcher!

"I yet shudder when I call to mind the agony of that moment. All eyes beamed joy, I thought, that they had escaped. I was for a moment stupified. Then my brain seemed to whirl round—the light forsook my eyes—I became incapable of reflection; yet a nervous, convulsive energy made me plead for mercy—a mere instinctive effort; for, had I been able to command my thoughts, they would have satisfied me that there was no hope. Satan stood by my side, with the knife in his hand, ready for his victim, even yet, when my slumbers are uneasy, I see his tall, hideous figure, rendered, at the time, doubly frightful by famine, standing over me, his knife at my throat, and Captain H—— in vain endeavouring to hold his hand. My agony and pleadings so melted the whole sufferers, that it was resolved to delay my death until the shades of night had once more covered the ocean, in hopes some ship might heave in sight before my fate was sealed; if not, the morning never was to dawn for me—that day was to be my last in time. Captain H—— kneeled, weeping, by my side. He was joined by all the crew, except the satanic planter, in heartfelt devotion, and earnest supplication for my deliverance. Alas! I could not mould my own thoughts to prayer: a thousand wandering fancies crowded through my mind, making all dark chaos, save the lurid coruscations of the horrors of dissolution. Their prayers and supplications sounded in my ears as if they were the noise of broken water on a reef of rocks, in a gentle breeze; and if I mechanically joined, or kept imploring pardon and mercy through Jesus for my many sins, it was not prayer, for I felt neither peace nor hope while I called. My heart seemed to take little interest in what my lips were uttering. All appeared as if I had been suddenly thrown to the bottom of a mine in utter darkness. Then, again, the glowing sun, that the day before seemed stationary in the heavens, so slow had appeared his progress, now seemed to whirl with fearful velocity, as I occasionally cast up my despairing eyes to mark his progress.