Dick Boldhero.CHAPTER I.Early days—The keg of gold—Misfortunes—Voyages.AsI am about to tell my story, it is proper that I should say something of my birth, parentage and early days. About half way between Hartford and New Haven, in Connecticut, is a small, pleasant city, called Middletown. It is situated upon the western bank of Connecticut river, and lies upon the turnpike which constitutes the great avenue between the two places first mentioned.About a mile and a half south of Middletown, upon this high road, is a turnpike gate, and contiguous to it is a small toll-house. This was originally called Hill-gate, being situated on a hill, but at last it was familiarly called Hell-gate. In the house which bore this ominous title, I was born, about five and forty years ago.Our family then consisted of my father and mother, a brother, named Seth, and myself. Seth was two years old when I was born. When I was about two years old, a girl was added to our circle, and she was named Sarah. We were now very poor, but had once been in good circumstances. My father had formerly been a merchant in Middletown, in partnership with his brother Benjamin. They traded to the West Indies, with a sloop called the Carbuncle, and my uncle Ben used to command her. He usually went toSt.Domingo, where he carried horses, mules, cows, oxen, potatoes, onions,&c., and brought back sugar and molasses.From all I can learn, it seems my uncle Ben was an eccentric character, but still he managed his part of the business well, and the concern went on in a thriving way for some years. At last, it was thought best for him to remain atSt.Domingo, so as to carry on the business there, and accordingly it was so arranged. He took up his residence at Port au Prince; but, in about a year after he was established there, the insurrection inSt.Domingo broke out. My uncle, who was a hot-headed fellow, took some part in the struggle, in consequence of which, he was obliged to seek safety in flight from the island. Whither he went, we could not exactly find out, but we were told that he went on board a Dutch vessel, bound for Surinam. From that time, however, we heard nothing of him.At the time that the disturbances commenced at Port au Prince, the Carbuncle was lying in port. Her cargo was in, and she was almost ready to sail; accordingly, she took her departure, and escaped. She brought a letter from my uncle Ben, very hastily written, saying that his life was in danger, andvery probably he might never return. He went on to say, however, that he should send a keg of gold by the vessel, which was of great value; that, if my father never heard of him more, he might consider it as his own.You may well imagine my father’s disappointment, at finding that the precious keg was not to be found on board the sloop, when she came back. The supercargo, whose name was Ambrose Dexter, and familiarly called Amby Dexter, declared that my uncle had not time to put the keg on board,—that he was obliged to fly, and that he went hastily by night on board the Dutch vessel of which we have already spoken.My father continued the business for a year or two, employing Dexter as his supercargo; but the trade proved unprofitable, and at last he became a bankrupt. The idea was then common that the creditor has a right over the soul and body of his debtor. Accordingly, the persons whom he owed threw him into prison, where he remained for two or three years. My mother was reduced to extreme poverty, but she still continued to pick up a subsistence.Upon my father’s failure, Dexter took the store and continued the business, and very soon he became a rich man. For some reason, he seemed to hate my father, though he pretended to be very kind to him. He used to go and see him in prison, and promised to use his influence for his liberation; but it afterwards appeared that he had actually bought up claims against him, and caused him to be imprisoned upon them.My father suffered so much from his confinement, that his constitution was weakened, and his health impaired forever. After his release, he obtained the situation of toll-keeper, from which he received about one hundred dollars a year. Upon this pittance, our family was now obliged to live. My mother, however, was a good economist, and though we lived humbly, we had still the necessaries of life.As I have said, Amby Dexter advanced rapidly in wealth, and in the space of a few years he became a very rich man. In reflecting upon all the circumstances, my father became suspicious that he had embezzled the keg of gold, which had been sent by my uncle Ben, and that this was the secret of his sudden prosperity. He intimated these views, in a confidential way, to one or two whom he esteemed friends. He showed them the letter he had received from his brother, together with the documents tending to establish his views. These confidential friends, however, betrayed his trust, and told Dexter of what my father had said.As if our cup of misfortune was not yet sufficiently full, our house was secretly entered shortly after this time, by some one at night, and my father’s papers were carried off, together with two hundred dollars, which belonged to the turnpike company. A story was soon put in circulation, that the robbery was all a sham; and it was soon generally suspected that my father had taken the money, and caused the rumor of the theft to cover up his guilt. He was tried for the embezzlement of the property, but though he was acquitted, he was deprived of his place.Nor was this all. Dexter brought an action against him for defamation, in consequence of what he had said about him to his confidential neighbors. A poor man’s word is feeble, and carries little conviction with it; while the rich man’s word is full of authority. Accordingly, in this contest, my father could hardly fail to be overwhelmed by his proud and prosperous enemy. He had even lost the papers, by means of the robbery, which justified the suspicions he had expressed, and thus he was regarded by the jury as without excuse or defence.He was sentenced to pay five hundred dollars, and being unable to do it, he was sent to prison. Here he lingered for a few months, till, at last, worn out and emaciated with confinement, and sick at heart, his spirit departed, as I trust, for a better world.As it is a painful story, I shall not detail the course of events which followed, in respect to my mother. It must be sufficient to say, that my brother Seth grew up rather a wild fellow, and the neighbors said—“I thought it would be so, for he comes of a bad father.” At last, when he was about seventeen years old, he went to sea, and was not heard of afterwards. For myself, I went to school till I was nine years old, when I went, as cabin-boy, on board a vessel which plied between Middletown and New York. Here I continued for several years—though I was often beaten because they said I belonged to a bad family. They seemed to think I could do nothing right. However, I bore it all, and grew up a sailor. When I was about fifteen, I went on a voyage toSt.Domingo, and was instructed by my mother to make inquiries about my uncle at Port au Prince. This I did, but as it was about twenty years since the events occurred which I have mentioned, I could hear nothing of him.After my return, I made several other voyages, and was soon able to do something towards the support of my mother and sister. At last I went upon a voyage which produced results which may be interesting to the reader. I shall give an account of it in the next chapter.
CHAPTER I.
Early days—The keg of gold—Misfortunes—Voyages.
AsI am about to tell my story, it is proper that I should say something of my birth, parentage and early days. About half way between Hartford and New Haven, in Connecticut, is a small, pleasant city, called Middletown. It is situated upon the western bank of Connecticut river, and lies upon the turnpike which constitutes the great avenue between the two places first mentioned.
About a mile and a half south of Middletown, upon this high road, is a turnpike gate, and contiguous to it is a small toll-house. This was originally called Hill-gate, being situated on a hill, but at last it was familiarly called Hell-gate. In the house which bore this ominous title, I was born, about five and forty years ago.
Our family then consisted of my father and mother, a brother, named Seth, and myself. Seth was two years old when I was born. When I was about two years old, a girl was added to our circle, and she was named Sarah. We were now very poor, but had once been in good circumstances. My father had formerly been a merchant in Middletown, in partnership with his brother Benjamin. They traded to the West Indies, with a sloop called the Carbuncle, and my uncle Ben used to command her. He usually went toSt.Domingo, where he carried horses, mules, cows, oxen, potatoes, onions,&c., and brought back sugar and molasses.
From all I can learn, it seems my uncle Ben was an eccentric character, but still he managed his part of the business well, and the concern went on in a thriving way for some years. At last, it was thought best for him to remain atSt.Domingo, so as to carry on the business there, and accordingly it was so arranged. He took up his residence at Port au Prince; but, in about a year after he was established there, the insurrection inSt.Domingo broke out. My uncle, who was a hot-headed fellow, took some part in the struggle, in consequence of which, he was obliged to seek safety in flight from the island. Whither he went, we could not exactly find out, but we were told that he went on board a Dutch vessel, bound for Surinam. From that time, however, we heard nothing of him.
At the time that the disturbances commenced at Port au Prince, the Carbuncle was lying in port. Her cargo was in, and she was almost ready to sail; accordingly, she took her departure, and escaped. She brought a letter from my uncle Ben, very hastily written, saying that his life was in danger, andvery probably he might never return. He went on to say, however, that he should send a keg of gold by the vessel, which was of great value; that, if my father never heard of him more, he might consider it as his own.
You may well imagine my father’s disappointment, at finding that the precious keg was not to be found on board the sloop, when she came back. The supercargo, whose name was Ambrose Dexter, and familiarly called Amby Dexter, declared that my uncle had not time to put the keg on board,—that he was obliged to fly, and that he went hastily by night on board the Dutch vessel of which we have already spoken.
My father continued the business for a year or two, employing Dexter as his supercargo; but the trade proved unprofitable, and at last he became a bankrupt. The idea was then common that the creditor has a right over the soul and body of his debtor. Accordingly, the persons whom he owed threw him into prison, where he remained for two or three years. My mother was reduced to extreme poverty, but she still continued to pick up a subsistence.
Upon my father’s failure, Dexter took the store and continued the business, and very soon he became a rich man. For some reason, he seemed to hate my father, though he pretended to be very kind to him. He used to go and see him in prison, and promised to use his influence for his liberation; but it afterwards appeared that he had actually bought up claims against him, and caused him to be imprisoned upon them.
My father suffered so much from his confinement, that his constitution was weakened, and his health impaired forever. After his release, he obtained the situation of toll-keeper, from which he received about one hundred dollars a year. Upon this pittance, our family was now obliged to live. My mother, however, was a good economist, and though we lived humbly, we had still the necessaries of life.
As I have said, Amby Dexter advanced rapidly in wealth, and in the space of a few years he became a very rich man. In reflecting upon all the circumstances, my father became suspicious that he had embezzled the keg of gold, which had been sent by my uncle Ben, and that this was the secret of his sudden prosperity. He intimated these views, in a confidential way, to one or two whom he esteemed friends. He showed them the letter he had received from his brother, together with the documents tending to establish his views. These confidential friends, however, betrayed his trust, and told Dexter of what my father had said.
As if our cup of misfortune was not yet sufficiently full, our house was secretly entered shortly after this time, by some one at night, and my father’s papers were carried off, together with two hundred dollars, which belonged to the turnpike company. A story was soon put in circulation, that the robbery was all a sham; and it was soon generally suspected that my father had taken the money, and caused the rumor of the theft to cover up his guilt. He was tried for the embezzlement of the property, but though he was acquitted, he was deprived of his place.
Nor was this all. Dexter brought an action against him for defamation, in consequence of what he had said about him to his confidential neighbors. A poor man’s word is feeble, and carries little conviction with it; while the rich man’s word is full of authority. Accordingly, in this contest, my father could hardly fail to be overwhelmed by his proud and prosperous enemy. He had even lost the papers, by means of the robbery, which justified the suspicions he had expressed, and thus he was regarded by the jury as without excuse or defence.
He was sentenced to pay five hundred dollars, and being unable to do it, he was sent to prison. Here he lingered for a few months, till, at last, worn out and emaciated with confinement, and sick at heart, his spirit departed, as I trust, for a better world.
As it is a painful story, I shall not detail the course of events which followed, in respect to my mother. It must be sufficient to say, that my brother Seth grew up rather a wild fellow, and the neighbors said—“I thought it would be so, for he comes of a bad father.” At last, when he was about seventeen years old, he went to sea, and was not heard of afterwards. For myself, I went to school till I was nine years old, when I went, as cabin-boy, on board a vessel which plied between Middletown and New York. Here I continued for several years—though I was often beaten because they said I belonged to a bad family. They seemed to think I could do nothing right. However, I bore it all, and grew up a sailor. When I was about fifteen, I went on a voyage toSt.Domingo, and was instructed by my mother to make inquiries about my uncle at Port au Prince. This I did, but as it was about twenty years since the events occurred which I have mentioned, I could hear nothing of him.
After my return, I made several other voyages, and was soon able to do something towards the support of my mother and sister. At last I went upon a voyage which produced results which may be interesting to the reader. I shall give an account of it in the next chapter.