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Updated: May 4, 2025
It was just about the spot that we lost the boy that we fell upon the worst gale of the trip. It struck us quite sudden. Whitmarsh was a little high. He wasn't apt to be drunk in a gale, if it gave him warning sufficient. Well, you see, there must be somebody to furl the main-royal again, and he pitched onto McCallum. McCallum hadn't his beat for fighting out the royal in a blow.
So he piled away lively, up to the to'-sail yard. There, all of a sudden, he stopped. Next we knew he was down like heat-lightning. His face had gone very white. "What's to pay with you?" roared Whitmarsh. Said McCallum, "There's somebody up there, sir." Screamed Whitmarsh, "You're gone an idiot!" Said McCallum, very quiet and distinct: "There's somebody up there, sir. I saw him quite plain.
Another South Carolina slaveholder, Hon. Whitmarsh B. Seabrook, recently, we believe, Lieut. Governor of the state, gives the following testimony to his own inhumanity, and his certificate of the 'public opinion' among South Carolina slaveholders 'of high degree. In an essay on the management of slaves, read before the Agricultural Society of St.
"From his Affecshunate mother who prays, For you evry day, Amen," whispers Kentucky, presently, very soft. "The book's tore up. Mr. Whitmarsh wadded his old gun with it. But I remember." Then said he: "It's 'most bedtime to home. She's setting in a little rocking-chair, a green one. There's a fire, and the dog. She sets all by herself." Then he begins again: "She has to bring in her own wood now.
"He hollered not to come up! not to come up!" After that there wasn't a man of us would stir aloft, not for love nor money. Well, Whitmarsh he stamped, and he swore, and he knocked us about furious; but we sat and looked at one another's eyes, and never stirred. Something cold, like a frost-bite, seemed to crawl along from man to man, looking into one another's eyes.
They arranged and disarranged and rearranged and discarded old furniture and bought new with almost the abandon of a newly married couple fitting out their first home.... It was surprising what they managed to accomplish with it; when they were finished, there wasn't a prettier nor a more home-like residence in all Radville and Phrony Whitmarsh was Nat's slave, even as Miss Carpenter had been.
The breeze held steadier than we'd looked for, and we'd made a good offing and discharged the pilot by nightfall. Mr. Whitmarsh he was the mate was aft with the captain. The boys were singing a little; the smell of the coffee was coming up, hot and home-like, from the galley.
They say she sits and watches for her lad as ran away." So then I seemed to know, as well as ever I knew afterwards, who it was. And I thought of the dog. And the green rocking-chair. And the book that Whitmarsh wadded his old gun with. And the front-door, with the boy a walking in. So we three went up the wharf, Molly and the baby and me, and sat down beside her on the yellow boards.
He used to rack his brains for the words he slung at the boy working quiet enough beside him. It was odd, now, the talk he would get off. Bob Smart couldn't any more come up to it than I could: we used to try sometimes, but we had to give in always. If curses had been a marketable article, Whitmarsh would have taken out his patent and made his fortune by inventing of them, new and ingenious.
Whitmarsh," three times, "you've got the power and you know it, and so do the gentlemen who put you here; and I'm only a stow-away boy, and things are all in a tangle, but you'll be sorry yet for every time you've laid your hands on me!" He hadn't a pleasant look about the eyes either, when he said it. Fact was, that first month on the Madonna had done the lad no good.
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