The public discussions of the fate of the Dawn, as a matter of course, had drawn much speculation, among my acquaintances, to my own.  As month passed after month, and no letters reached America, the opinion became very general that the vessel was lost.  At length, a ship from Jamaica brought in a blind story of the manner in which I had re-taken my vessel from Sennit; and, it now being known that we were only four left in the vessel, the conjecture was hazarded that we had been wrecked for want of force to take care of the ship; and I was set down as a drowned man.

Shortly after this opinion of my fate became general among my acquaintances, John Wallingford had appeared at Clawbonny.  He made no change, however, spoke kindly to every one, told the slaves nothing should be altered, and gave them every reason to suppose that they would continue under a true Wallingford regime.  It was generally understood he was to be my heir, and no one saw any occasion for the acts of violence that succeeded.

But, two months after John Wallingford’s visit, Mr. Hardinge, and all connected with Clawbonny, had been astounded by the intelligence of the existence of the mortgage.  A foreclosure under the statute, or ‘statue,’ as Jared had called it, was commenced, and a few months later the place was publicly sold at Kingston, none bidding more than five thousand dollars for it, less than a sixth of its worth.  This sacrifice of real estate, however, under forced sales, was, and is, common enough in America, especially; it being generally understood that the creditor is prepared to rise in his bids, as necessity presents.  In my case there was no one to protect my rights, Mr. Hardinge having attended the sale prepared to reason with my cousin on the propriety and generosity of his course, rather than prepared with good current coin to extinguish the claim.  John Wallingford did not appear, however, and the sale took place without further competition, than one bid of Mr. Hardinge’s; a bid that he was not properly prepared to make, but which he hazarded on his knowledge of Lucy’s means and disposition.  A man of the name of Daggett, a relative of John Wallingford’s, by his mother’s side, was the ostensible purchaser, and now professed to be the owner of my paternal acres.  It was he who had taken possession under the purchase, had dismissed the negroes, and sent off the personal property; and he it was who had placed new servants on the farm and in the mill.  To the surprise of everybody, John Wallingford had not appeared in the transaction, though it was understood he had a legal right to all my remaining effects, in the event of my real death.  No will was proved or produced, however, nor was anything heard of, or concerning, my cousin!  Mr. Daggett was a close and reserved man, and nothing could be learned on the subject from him.  His right to Clawbonny could not be disputed, and after consulting counsel in the premises, Mr. Hardinge himself had been compelled, reluctantly, to admit it.  Such was the substance of what I gleaned from the miller, in a random sort of conversation that lasted an hour.  Of course, much remained to be explained, but I had learned enough, to know that I was virtually a beggar as to means, whatever I might be in feeling.