Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1865-03-31
DAVID NJ ATS ON.
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

w no OF uly young IrIoDOlS nave 1eau the
sorrowful story OF .EnOch Arden so
sweetly and simply told by the great Eng
tish poet? 1t is the story of man who
went to sea- leaving behind sweet young
wife and little daughter. He was casl
lway on desert island, where he remain
ed several years, when he was discovered
and taken off by a passing vessel. Com
ng back to his native town, he found his
VIE married to an old playmate gooa
man, rich, and hOnored, and with whom
she was living happily. The poor man,
unwilling to cause her pain and perplexity,
resolved not to make himself known tC
her, and lived and died alone. The poem
mas reminded me of very similar story
Of my own New England neighborhood.
which have often heard and which
will try to tell, not in poetry, like Alfred
Iennyson's, but in my own poor prose.
can assure my readers that IN It's main par
ticulars it is true tale.
One bright, summer morning, more than
three-score years ago, David MatsOn, with
mis- young wife and his two healthy, bare
looted boys, stood on the bank of the
river near their dwelling. They were wait
ing there for Pelatiah Curtis to come
round the point with his wherry, and take
the husband and father to the Port, few
miles below. The Lively Turtle was
David was to go in her as mate. They
stood there in the lovely morning sunshine
talking cheerfully; but had you been near
enough you could have seen tears in Anna
Matsons blue eyes, for she loved her hus-
Oand, and knew there was always danger
IN the sea. And David's bluff CHEEKY
voice trembled little now and then, fol
he honest sailor loved his snug home on
The Merrimac, with the dear wife and hel
pretty boys. But presently the wherry
;ame alongside, and David was just step
ping into 1t, when he turned back to kiss
lis wife and childen once more.
In with you man, said Pelatlah Cur
lis There is no time for kissing and
,uch foOleries when the tide serves.
And so they parted. Anna and the boys
vent back to their home, and David to the
Port, whence he sailed off in the Lively
turtle. And months passed, and autumn
| followed the summer, and winter the
autumn, and then spring came, and anon
t was summer on the river side, and he
lid not come back. And another year
passed, and then the old sailors and fish
ermen shook their heads solemnly, and
,aid that the Lively Turtle was lost ship
md would not come back to port. AnC
DOOR Anna had her bombazine gown dyed
black, and her straw bonnet trimmed il
Mourning ribbons, and thenceforth she
vas known only as the widow Matson.
And how was it all this time with DaviC
himself?
Now you must know that the Moham
m 9dan people of Algiers and Tripoli, anC
| ydogadore and Sallee, on the Barbary
;oast, had for long time been in the
labit of fitting out galleys and armed
)Oats to seize upon the merchant vessels
| If Christian nations, and make slaves o
1 i
| calling themselves Christians in Americ;
we're sending vessels to Africa to catcl
black slaves for their plantations. Th
lively Turtle fell into the hands of one o
hese rowing sea robbers, and the crev
we're taken to Algiers, and sold in tn
narket-place as slaves. Poor David wa
tmong the rest.
When boy he had learned the trade 0
| ship carpenter, with his father, on tn
HerrImac and now he was set to work il
he dOck-yards. His master, who wa
lin. lie had daily his three loaves Q
bread, and when his clothing was wor
Iut, its place was supplied by the cloth G
WOOL and camels haIr woven by the Bar
)ary women. Three hours before sunse
he was released from work, and Friday
which is the Mohammedan Sunday, was
Law of entire rest. Once a year, at th
eison called Ramadan, he was left at LEI
.ure a whole week So time went on
laws, weeks, months and years. His dar
laIr BECAME gray. He still dreamed {
ais old home on the Merrimac, and of hi
good Anna and the boys. He wondere
whether they yet lived, what they though
| of him. and what they were doing. Th
hope of ever seeing them again grew fain
, er and fainter, and at last nearly died ou
md he resigned himself to his fate as
slave for lite.
But one day, handsome, middle-age
gentleman. in the dress of one of his ow
;ountrymen, attended by a great officer
the Dey, entered the ship-yard, and calle
2 up before him the American captives.-
The stranger was none other than 10
| Barlow, Commissioner of the Unite
States. to procure the liberation of slave
= belonging to that government. He toe
. the men by the hand as they came up, al
sold them they were free. As you mig
| 4xDect. the poor fellows were very grea
fuf; some laughed, some wept for jo
some shouted and sang, and threw I
their caps, while others, with David Ma
son among them, knelt down and thankC
God for their great dellverance.
'This is a very affecting scene, said tt
Commissioner, wiping his eyes. mu
keep the impression of it for my coluT
! bad - and drawing out his tablet, he pr
< ceeded to write on the spot, an apostropl
:. to Freedom, which afterward found
! place in his great epic.
!. David Matson had saved little mon
p during his captivity, by odd jobs and wol
y on holidays. He got passage to Malag
r where he bought nice shawl for his vii
le and watch for each of his boys. I
IN then went to the quay where an Americi
rs ship was lying just ready to sail
Boston.
Almost the first man he saw on boa
was Pelatiah Curtis, who had rowed b
down to the port seven years before. |
found that his old neighbor did not kn'