Bedford inquirer. [volume] (Bedford, Pa.) 1857-1884, 1865-03-17
DAVID MAFs0N,
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

who went TO sea, leaving behind sweet young wife
and little daughter. He was cast awayon q desert
island, where he remained several years, when he
was discovered and taken off by a passing vessel.
Coming back to his native town, he found his wife
married to an old playmate good, man rich and
honored, with whom she was living happily The
poor man, unwilling to cause her pain and per-
plexlty, resolved not 10 make himself known to
her, and lived and died alone. The poem has re-
minded me of a very similar story Of my swn New
England uelghborhood, which have often heard,
ana which will try to tell not Ia poetry, ike Al
fred Tennysons 5, but In my own poor prose. can
assure nay readers that in it's main particulars it is
true tale
One bright summer morning, more than three
score years ago, David Matson, with his young
wife and his two healthy barefooted boys stood on
the bank of the river near then dwelling. They
were waiting there for Pelatiah Curtis to come
round the Point with bis whery, and take the hus
band and father TO the port, few miles below
The Lively Turtle was about to sail on voyage
TO Spain, and David was to 60 in her as mate
They stood there in the lovely morning sunshine,
talking eheerfully but, had YOU been near enough
you could have seen tears IN Anna Matson blue
eyes, for she loved her husband, and knew there
was always danger on the sea. And David S bluff,
CHEEKY voice trembed little now and then for
the honest sailor loved his snug home on the Mer-
rimack with the dear wife and her pretty boys -
Butpresently the wherry came alongside, and Da-
yid was Just stepping into it, when he turned back
to kiss his wife and children once more
In with you, man, said Pelatiah Curtis
There no time for kissing, and such fooleries
when the tide serves
And so they parted Anna and the boys went
back to their home, and David to the port, whence
he sailed off in the Lively Turtle And months
the autumn, and then spring came, and anon it
was summer on the riverside and he did not
come back. And another year passed. and then
the old sailors and fishermen shook their heads
soemnly, and said the Lively Turtle was lost
ship, and would never come back to port. And
Poor Anna had her bombazine gown dyed black,
and her straw bonnet trimmed IN mourning rib
bons and theneeforth she was known only as the
Widow Matson.
And how was it all this time with David HIM
self?
Now YOU must know that the Mohammedan
people of Algiers and Tripoli, and MagadoTe and
Sallee on the Barbary coast, had for a long time
been in the habit Of itting out galeys and armed
boats to sieZe upon merchant vessels OF Christian
nations and make slaves of Their crews and pas
Aengers, just as men calling themselves Christians
iiA America We're sending vessels to Africa to
csleh black slaves for their plantations The Live
" Turtle fell into the hands of one of these row
ing 'sea-robbers and the crew were taken to Al
giers and sold in the market place slaves, poor
DAVID Matson among the rest.
When boy he had learned the trade of ship
carpenter with his father on the MerrImack, and
now he was set to work in the dock-yards. lis
master who was naturally a kind man, did not
sas.larl- him. II e ha daily his three loaEes ef
thread, and when his clothing was worn out Its
place was supplied BY the coarse cloth of wool and
camel's hair woven by the BerbeT women. Three
hours before sunset he was released from work,
and FRIDAY. which was the Mohammadan Sabbath,
was day of entire rest. Once year, at the sea-
son called Ramadan, he was left at leisure for
whole week So time went on-days, weeks,
months and years His dark hair became grey
He still dreamed of his old home on the Merri-
mack and of his good Anna and the boys He
wondered if they yet lived what they thought Of
him. and what they were doing. The hope Of ever
seeing them again grew fainter and fainter, and at
last nearly died out; and he resigned himself to
his fate as a slave for life.
But one day handsome, middle-aged gentle
man in the dress Of one OF his own eountrymen,
attended by great officer of the Dey, entered the
shipyard and called up before him the American
captives The stranger was none other than Joel
Barlow Commissioner OF the United States to
procure the liberation of slaves belonging to that
Government. He took the men by the hand as
they came up, and told them they were free. As
you might expect, the poor fellows were very
grateful some laughed, some wept for joy, some
shouted and sang, and threw up their caps, while
others with David Matson among them, knelt
down on the chips, and thanked God for the great
deliverance.
''This is a very affecting scene, said the Com
missioner, wipmg his eyes. i must keep the mn
ing out his tablet, he proceeded to write on the
spot an apostrophe to Freedom, which afterwards
found place in his great epic.
David Matson had saved little money during
his captivity, by odd jobs and work on holidays
He got a passage to Malaga, where he bought a
nice shawl for his wife and watch Tor each OF
his bows. He then went to the quay, where an
American ship was lying just ready to sail for Bos
ton.
Almost the first man he saw on board was Pela-
tiab Curtis. who had rowed him down to the port
seven years before. He found that his old neigh
Dor did not know him, so changed was he with
his lonp-beard and Moorish dress, whereupon
without telling his name, he began to put qnescc
tions about his old home, and finally asked him 1t
he knew Mrs Matson.
Il rather think I do, said Pelatiah = she's
..Yonr wife, cried the other. She IS mine
before God aud Man. | am David Matson, and
she IS the mother Of my children
And mine, too SAID Pelatlah. iefg her
with baby in her arms II you are Davlu Nlas-
son, your right to her is outlawed at any rate
she Is mine, and | am not the man to give her
up.
',Ciod is ereatl7 said poor David Matson, un-
consciously repeating the familiar words OF Mos
lem submission His viii be done loved her, her
but / shall never see her again. Give THESE; WITH
my blessings. 70 the good woman and the boys,
and he handed over, with sigh, the little bundle
containing the gifts for his wife and children
He shook hands with hisrival. "Peiatlah, ne
said looking back as he left the ship, be KIND to
''Ar. ay. Sir q responded the sailor in a care
less tone. He watched the poor man passing slow
" up the narrow street until out Of sight Its
hard case for old David he said helping him
self to fresh end Of tobacco; but m glad We
seen the last of him.
Anna the story Of her husband, and laid his gifts
in her lap She did not shrek nor faint, for she
was healthy woman. with strong nerves but she
stole away and Wept bitterly. She lived many
years after. but could never bepersnaded to wear
L. -, t..-.k kav,H nf bax tr.AfIf