The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1876-02-04
DAVID MATSON.
The ;'ruc Story Of Man who was Lost
and Found.
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Who of my young readers have not
read the sorrowful story of EnOch Arden
so sweetly and simply told by the great
English poet? 1t is the story of a man
who went to sea, leaving behind a sweet
young wife and little daughter. He was
east away on a desert island, where he
remained several years, when he was dis
covered, and taken off by passing vessel.
/ Coming back to his native town, he
found his wife married to an old play
mate-a good man, rich and hOnored,
with whom she was living happily. The
poor man, unwilling 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 a
very similar story of my own New Eng
land neighborhood, which l have often
heard, and which l will try to tell, not
| in poetry, like Alfred TennysOn's, but in
nv own poor prose. l can assure my
readers that, in its main particulars, it
is tIue tale.
One bright summer morning, more than
| three score years ago, David Matson,
| with his young wife and two healthy,
| barefoeted BOYS, stood on the bank of the
river near their dwelling. They were
waiting there for Pelatiah Curtis to come
the husband and father to the port few
miles below. The Lively Turtle was
about to sail on a voyage to Spain, and
David was TO go in her as mate. They
stood there in the lovely morning sum
shine, talking cheerfully; but had you
been near enough you could have seen
tears in Anna MatsOn's blue eyes, for she
loved her husband, and knew there was
always danger on the sea.
And David's bluff, CHEEKY voice trem-
bled little now and then, for the honest
sailor loved his snug home on the Merri-
mac, with the dear wife and her pretty
boys. But presently the wherry came
alongside, and David was just stepping
in it, when he turned back to kiss his
wife and boys.
I'm with you, man" said Pelatiah
Curtis. "There's no time for kissing and
such fooleries when the tide serves"
And so they parted. Anna and her
boys went back to their home, and David
to the port from whence he sailed off in
the Lively Turtle And months passed;
autumn followed the summer, and winter
the autumn; and then spring came;
anon it was summer on the river side,
and he did not come back. And another
year passed, and then old sailors and
fishermen shook their heads solemnly,
and said the Lively Turtle was a lost
ship, and would never come back to port.
Ard poor Anna had her bOmbazine gown
dyed black, and her straw bonnet trimmed
in mourning ribbons, and thenceforth
was known only as the Widow MatsOn.
And how was it all this time with
David himself?
Now YOU must know that the MOham-
medan people of Algiers and Tripoli.
Mogdore and Sallee, on the Barbary
coast, had for long time been i'll the
habit of fitting out galleys and armed
boats to seize upon merchant vessels OF
Christian nations, and make slaves of
their crews and passengers, Just as men
calling themselves Christians in America
were sending vessels to Africa to catch
black slaves for their plantations. The
Lively Turtle fell into the hands of one
of these rowing sea robbers, and the crew
were taken to Algiers, and sold in the
market-place as slaves, poor David Mat
son among the rest.
When boy he had learned the trade
of ship carpenter with his father, on the
Merrimac, and now he was set at work in
the dockyards. His master, who was
naturally kind man, did not overwOrk
him. He had daily his three loaves of
bread, and when his clothing was worn
out its place was supplied by the coarse
cloth of wool and camel's hair, woven by
the Berber women. Three hours before
sunset he was released from work, and
Friday, which is the MOhammedan Sab
bath was a day of entire rest. Once a
year, at the season called Ramcan, he
was left at leisure for a whole week.
So time went on-days, weeks, months
and years. His dark hair became gray.
He still dreamed of his old home on the
Merrimac, and of his good Anna and her
boys. He wondered whether they were
yet living, what they thought of him,
and what they were doing. The hopesof
eyer seeing them again grew fainter and
fainter, and at last nearly died out and
he resigned himself to his fate as slave
for life.
But one day handsome middle aged
gentleman, in the dress of one of his own
countrymen, attended by great officer
of the Dey, entered the ship-yard, and
called up before him the American cap
tives. 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 they were free. As you might ex-
pect, the poor fellows were very CRATE
full; 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 de
liverance.
"This is very affecting scene," said
the commissioner, wiping his eyes 81
must keep the impression of it for my
Columbiad :" and drawing out his tab
lets he proceeded to write on the spot an
apostrophe to Freedom which afterward
found place in his great epic.
DAVID Matson had saveda little money
during captivity, by odd jobs and work
on holidays He got passage to Ma
laga, where he bought a nice shawl for
his wife and watch for each of his boys.
He then went to the quay, where an
American ship was lying just ready to
sail for Boston.
Al L.