The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1865-03-31
DGrid MNtsOn.
BY JOHN G.. WHITTIER

sweetly and simply told by the great Eng
lish poet! 1t is the story of a man who
went to sea, leaving behind sweet young
wife and little daughter He was cast
away on desert island, where he remain
ed several years, when he was discovered.
and taken off by a passing vessel. Com
ing back to his native town, he found his
wife married to an old playmate-a good
man, rich and honorcd, with whom she
was living happily. The poor man, un-
willing to cause her pain and perplexity,
resolved not to make himself known to
her, and lived and died alone. The poem
has reminded me of very similar story
of my own New England neishborhood.
which have often heard, and which 1
will try to tell, not in poetry, like Alfred
Tennyson's, but in my own poor prose. L
can assure my readers that in its main
particulars it is a true tale.
One bright summer morning, more than
three score years ago, David Matson. with
his young wife and his two healthy, bare
footed boys. stood on the bank of the
river near their dwelling. They were
waiting 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
about to sail on voyage to Spain, and
David was to 90 in her as mate They
stood there in the lovely morning sunshine.
talking cheeriully: but, had You been near
enough. YOU could have seen tears in Anna
MatSon'S blue eyes, for she loved her huS-
band and knew there was always danger
on the sea And David's bluff. CHEEKY
voice trembled a little now and then, for
the honest sailor loved his snug home on
the Merrimack. with the dear wife and
her pretty boys. But presently the whcr
ry came alongside, and David WIS just
stepping into it. when he turned back TO
kiss his wife and children once more
lin with You, man, said Peatiah Cur
It's. There's no time for kissing. and
such iooleries when the tide serves
And SO they parted. Anna and the
/. boys went back to their home, and David
to the Port, whence lie sailed off iii the
Lively Turtle. And months passed, au-
, tlmn followed the summer. and winter the
autumn, and then spring CAME and anon
ii WAS summer Oh the riverside, and he
did not come back And another yeai,
passed. and then the old sailors and fish,
erman shook their heads >olemnly. and
, said the Lively Turtle WAS 4 lost ship. and
: would never come back 10 port. And
, poor Anna had her bomb;,Llne gown dyed
, black. and her straw bonnet trimmed In
, mourning ribbons, and thencctorth she was
S known only as the Widow Matson.
= And how was it all this time with Da-
Y vid himself.
Now YOU must know that the Mohanl-
: mendan people OF Algiers and Tripoli,
$ and Mogadore and Sallce. on the Barbary
D coast, had for lon. time been in the ilab,
r it of fitting out gallcys and armed boats +,
: seize upon merchant vessels of Christian
$ nations and make slaves of their crew:
t and passengers. just as men calling them
Il selves Christians in America were sending
: vessels to Africa to catch black slaves tol
q their plantations. The Lively Turtle tel
e into the hands of one OF these rowing sea-
: robbers. and the crew were taken to AL
it gierS, and sold in the market place Il.
: slaves, poor David Matson among the rest
l. When a boy lie had learned the trade o.
Is Ship-carpenter with his father on the Nler
# rimack and now he was set at work il
e the dock-yardS. His master who WI.
It naturally a kind man. dill not overworl
e him. lie had daily his three loavcs 0
d bread, and when his clothing was worI
out, It's place wis supplied by the coar>
IS cloth of wool and camelS hair woven b.
e the Bcrber women. Three hours betor
N sunset he was released from work. an
[e Friday, which was the Mahommenda1
Is Sabbath, was a day Of entire rest. One
IN Il year, at the season called Ramadan. Ii
was left at leisure for whole week :
+ time went on-days. weeks, months an
l. years. His dark hair became grey. ii
,e still dreamed of his old home on the Mer
ut rimack, and OF his good Anna and tn
" boys. He wondered if they yet lived
and what they were doing The hope G
ever seeing them again grew fainter an
l. fainter, and at last nearly died out; an
st he resigned himself to his fate as slay
ne for life.
III But one day a handsome, middle-age
'o gentleman, in the dress of one of his ow
'd countrymen, attended by great officer ,
e, the Dey, entered the ship yard, and calle
no up before him the American captive
OF Barlow, commissioner of the Unite
H. States to procure the liberation of slav
y, belonging to that government. He toe
OF the men by the hand, as they came VI
and told them they were free AS V,
might expect, the poor fellows were Vel
III grateful; some laughed, some wept f
o1 jov, some shouted and sang. and threw l
eo their caps, while Others, with David NJ,
JILL son among them, knelt down on the chip
Z" and thanked God for the great Ieliveranc
This is a very affecting scene," 81
81 " the commissioner, wiping his eyes.
~ must keep the impression Of it for n
Columbiad;" and, drawing out his tabl
nt he proceeded to write on the spot an ape
~, trophe to Freedom, which atterward foul
hot place in his great epic.
David Matson had saved little mon