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diff --git a/8118-h/8118-h.htm b/8118-h/8118-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..218c55b --- /dev/null +++ b/8118-h/8118-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15987 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Redburn: His First Voyage, by Herman Melville</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Redburn: His First Voyage, by Herman Melville</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Redburn: His First Voyage</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Herman Melville</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 17, 2003 [eBook #8118]<br /> +[Most recently updated: March 25, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Project Gutenberg volunteers and Blackmask Online</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REDBURN: HIS FIRST VOYAGE ***</div> + +<h1>Redburn:<br/> +His First Voyage</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Herman Melville</h2> + +<p class="center"> +Being the Sailor Boy<br/> +Confessions and Reminiscences<br/> +Of the Son-Of-A-Gentleman<br/> +In the Merchant Navy +</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I. HOW WELLINGBOROUGH REDBURN’S TASTE FOR THE SEA WAS BORN AND BRED IN HIM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II. REDBURN’S DEPARTURE FROM HOME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III. HE ARRIVES IN TOWN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV. HOW HE DISPOSED OF HIS FOWLING-PIECE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V. HE PURCHASES HIS SEA-WARDROBE, AND ON A DISMAL RAINY DAY PICKS UP HIS BOARD AND LODGING ALONG THE WHARVES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI. HE IS INITIATED IN THE BUSINESS OF CLEANING OUT THE PIG-PEN, AND SLUSHING DOWN THE TOP-MAST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII. HE GETS TO SEA AND FEELS VERY BAD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII. HE IS PUT INTO THE LARBOARD WATCH; GETS SEA-SICK; AND RELATES SOME OTHER OF HIS EXPERIENCES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX. THE SAILORS BECOMING A LITTLE SOCIAL, REDBURN CONVERSES WITH THEM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X. HE IS VERY MUCH FRIGHTENED; THE SAILORS ABUSE HIM; AND HE BECOMES MISERABLE AND FORLORN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI. HE HELPS WASH THE DECKS, AND THEN GOES TO BREAKFAST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII. HE GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF ONE OF HIS SHIPMATES CALLED JACKSON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII. HE HAS A FINE DAY AT SEA, BEGINS TO LIKE IT; BUT CHANGES HIS MIND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV. HE CONTEMPLATES MAKING A SOCIAL CALL ON THE CAPTAIN IN HIS CABIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV. THE MELANCHOLY STATE OF HIS WARDROBE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI. AT DEAD OF NIGHT HE IS SENT UP TO LOOSE THE MAIN-SKYSAIL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII. THE COOK AND STEWARD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII. HE ENDEAVORS TO IMPROVE HIS MIND; AND TELLS OF ONE BLUNT AND HIS DREAM BOOK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX. A NARROW ESCAPE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX. IN A FOG HE IS SET TO WORK AS A BELL-TOLLER, AND BEHOLDS A HERD OF OCEAN-ELEPHANTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI. A WHALEMAN AND A MAN-OF-WAR’S-MAN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII. THE HIGHLANDER PASSES A WRECK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII. AN UNACCOUNTABLE CABIN-PASSENGER, AND A MYSTERIOUS YOUNG LADY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV. HE BEGINS TO HOP ABOUT IN THE RIGGING LIKE A SAINT JAGO’s MONKEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV. QUARTER-DECK FURNITURE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI. A SAILOR A JACK OF ALL TRADES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII. HE GETS A PEEP AT IRELAND, AND AT LAST ARRIVES AT LIVERPOOL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII. HE GOES TO SUPPER AT THE SIGN OF THE BALTIMORE CLIPPER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX. REDBURN DEFERENTIALLY DISCOURSES CONCERNING THE PROSPECTS OF SAILORS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX. REDBURN GROWS INTOLERABLY FLAT AND STUPID OVER SOME OUTLANDISH OLD GUIDE-BOOKS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI. WITH HIS PROSY OLD GUIDE-BOOK, HE TAKES A PROSY STROLL THROUGH THE TOWN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII. THE DOCKS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII. THE SALT-DROGHERS, AND GERMAN EMIGRANT SHIPS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV. THE IRRAWADDY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap35">CHAPTER XXXV. GALLIOTS, COAST-OF-GUINEA-MAN, AND FLOATING CHAPEL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap36">CHAPTER XXXVI. THE OLD CHURCH OF ST. NICHOLAS, AND THE DEAD-HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap37">CHAPTER XXXVII. WHAT REDBURN SAW IN LAUNCELOTT’S-HEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap38">CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE DOCK-WALL BEGGARS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap39">CHAPTER XXXIX. THE BOOBLE-ALLEYS OF THE TOWN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap40">CHAPTER XL. PLACARDS, BRASS-JEWELERS, TRUCK-HORSES, AND STEAMERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap41">CHAPTER XLI. REDBURN ROVES ABOUT HTHER AND THITHER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap42">CHAPTER XLII. HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE CROSS OLD GENTLEMAN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap43">CHAPTER XLIII. HE TAKES A DELIGHTFUL RAMBLE INTO THE COUNTRY; AND MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF THREE ADORABLE CHARMERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap44">CHAPTER XLIV. REDBURN INTRODUCES MASTER HARRY BOLTON TO THE FAVORABLE CONSIDERATION OF THE READER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap45">CHAPTER XLV. HARRY BOLTON KIDNAPS REDBURN, AND CARRIES HIM OFF TO LONDON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap46">CHAPTER XLVI. A MYSTERIOUS NIGHT IN LONDON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap47">CHAPTER XLVII. HOMEWARD BOUND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap48">CHAPTER XLVIII. A LIVING CORPSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap49">CHAPTER XLIX. CARLO</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap50">CHAPTER L. HARRY BOLTON AT SEA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap51">CHAPTER LI. THE EMIGRANTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap52">CHAPTER LII. THE EMIGRANTS’ KITCHEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap53">CHAPTER LIII. THE HORATII AND CURIATII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap54">CHAPTER LIV. SOME SUPERIOR OLD NAIL-ROD AND PIG-TAIL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap55">CHAPTER LV. DRAWING NIGH TO THE LAST SCENE IN JACKSON’S CAREER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap56">CHAPTER LVI. UNDER THE LEE OF THE LONG-BOAT, REDBURN AND HARRY HOLD CONFIDENTIAL COMMUNION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap57">CHAPTER LVII. ALMOST A FAMINE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap58">CHAPTER LVIII. THOUGH THE HIGHLANDER PUTS INTO NO HARBOR AS YET; SHE HERE AND THERE LEAVES MANY OF HER PASSENGERS BEHIND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap59">CHAPTER LIX. THE LAST END OF JACKSON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap60">CHAPTER LX. HOME AT LAST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap61">CHAPTER LXI. REDBURN AND HARRY, ARM IN ARM, IN HARBOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap62">CHAPTER LXII. THE LAST THAT WAS EVER HEARD OF HARRY BOLTON</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I.<br/> +HOW WELLINGBOROUGH REDBURN’S TASTE FOR THE SEA WAS BORN AND BRED IN HIM</h2> + +<p> +“Wellingborough, as you are going to sea, suppose you take this +shooting-jacket of mine along; it’s just the thing—take it, it will +<i>save</i> the expense of another. You see, it’s quite warm; fine long +skirts, stout horn buttons, and plenty of pockets.” +</p> + +<p> +Out of the goodness and simplicity of his heart, thus spoke my elder brother to +me, upon the <i>eve</i> of my departure for the seaport. +</p> + +<p> +“And, Wellingborough,” he added, “since we are both short of +money, and you want an outfit, and I <i>Have</i> none to <i>give,</i> you may +as well take my fowling-piece along, and sell it in New York for what you can +get.—Nay, take it; it’s of no use to me now; I can’t find it +in powder any more.” +</p> + +<p> +I was then but a boy. Some time previous my mother had removed from New York to +a pleasant village on the Hudson River, where we lived in a small house, in a +quiet way. Sad disappointments in several plans which I had sketched for my +future life; the necessity of doing something for myself, united to a naturally +roving disposition, had now conspired within me, to send me to sea as a sailor. +</p> + +<p> +For months previous I had been poring over old New York papers, delightedly +perusing the long columns of ship advertisements, all of which possessed a +strange, romantic charm to me. Over and over again I devoured such +announcements as the following: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +FOR BREMEN. +<br/> +<i>The coppered and copper-fastened brig Leda, having nearly completed her +cargo, will sail for the above port on Tuesday the twentieth of May.<br/> +For freight or passage apply on board at Coenties Slip.<br/> +</i> +</p> + +<p> +To my young inland imagination every word in an advertisement like this, +suggested volumes of thought. +</p> + +<p> +A <i>brig!</i> The very word summoned up the idea of a black, sea-worn craft, +with high, cozy bulwarks, and rakish masts and yards. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Coppered and copper-fastened!</i> +That fairly smelt of the salt water! How different such vessels must be from +the wooden, one-masted, green-and-white-painted sloops, that glided up and down +the river before our house on the bank. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Nearly completed her cargo!</i> +How momentous the announcement; suggesting ideas, too, of musty bales, and +cases of silks and satins, and filling me with contempt for the vile deck-loads +of hay and lumber, with which my river experience was familiar. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Will sail on Tuesday the 20th of May-and</i> +the newspaper bore date the fifth of the month! Fifteen whole days beforehand; +think of that; what an important voyage it must be, that the time of sailing +was fixed upon so long beforehand; the river sloops were not used to make such +prospective announcements. +</p> + +<p> +<i>For freight or passage apply on board!</i> +Think of going on board a coppered and copper-fastened brig, and taking passage +for Bremen! And who could be going to Bremen? No one but foreigners, doubtless; +men of dark complexions and jet-black whiskers, who talked French. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Coenties Slip.</i> +Plenty more brigs and any quantity of ships must be lying there. Coenties Slip +must be somewhere near ranges of grim-looking warehouses, with rusty iron doors +and shutters, and tiled roofs; and old anchors and chain-cable piled on the +walk. Old-fashioned coffeehouses, also, much abound in that neighborhood, with +sunburnt sea-captains going in and out, smoking cigars, and talking about +Havanna, London, and Calcutta. +</p> + +<p> +All these my imaginations were wonderfully assisted by certain shadowy +reminiscences of wharves, and warehouses, and shipping, with which a residence +in a seaport during early childhood had supplied me. +</p> + +<p> +Particularly, I remembered standing with my father on the wharf when a large +ship was getting under way, and rounding the head of the pier. I remembered the +<i>yo heave ho!</i> of the sailors, as they just showed their woolen caps above +the high bulwarks. I remembered how I thought of their crossing the great +ocean; and that that very ship, and those very sailors, so near to me then, +would after a time be actually in Europe. +</p> + +<p> +Added to these reminiscences my father, now dead, had several times crossed the +Atlantic on business affairs, for he had been an importer in Broad-street. And +of winter evenings in New York, by the well-remembered sea-coal fire in old +Greenwich-street, he used to tell my brother and me of the monstrous waves at +sea, mountain high; of the masts bending like twigs; and all about Havre, and +Liverpool, and about going up into the ball of St. Paul’s in London. +Indeed, during my early life, most of my thoughts of the sea were connected +with the land; but with fine old lands, full of mossy cathedrals and churches, +and long, narrow, crooked streets without sidewalks, and lined with strange +houses. And especially I tried hard to think how such places must look of rainy +days and Saturday afternoons; and whether indeed they did have rainy days and +Saturdays there, just as we did here; and whether the boys went to school +there, and studied geography, and wore their shirt collars turned over, and +tied with a black ribbon; and whether their papas allowed them to wear boots, +instead of shoes, which I so much disliked, for boots looked so manly. +</p> + +<p> +As I grew older my thoughts took a larger flight, and I frequently fell into +long reveries about distant voyages and travels, and thought how fine it would +be, to be able to talk about remote and barbarous countries; with what +reverence and wonder people would regard me, if I had just returned from the +coast of Africa or New Zealand; how dark and romantic my sunburnt cheeks would +look; how I would bring home with me foreign clothes of a rich fabric and +princely make, and wear them up and down the streets, and how grocers’ +boys would turn back their heads to look at me, as I went by. For I very well +remembered staring at a man myself, who was pointed out to me by my aunt one +Sunday in Church, as the person who had been in Stony Arabia, and passed +through strange adventures there, all of which with my own eyes I had read in +the book which he wrote, an arid-looking book in a pale yellow cover. +</p> + +<p> +“See what big eyes he has,” whispered my aunt, “they got so +big, because when he was almost dead with famishing in the desert, he all at +once caught sight of a date tree, with the ripe fruit hanging on it.” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this, I stared at him till I thought his eyes were really of an uncommon +size, and stuck out from his head like those of a lobster. I am sure my own +eyes must have magnified as I stared. When church was out, I wanted my aunt to +take me along and follow the traveler home. But she said the constables would +take us up, if we did; and so I never saw this wonderful Arabian traveler +again. But he long haunted me; and several times I dreamt of him, and thought +his great eyes were grown still larger and rounder; and once I had a vision of +the date tree. +</p> + +<p> +In course of time, my thoughts became more and more prone to dwell upon foreign +things; and in a thousand ways I sought to gratify my tastes. We had several +pieces of furniture in the house, which had been brought from Europe. These I +examined again and again, wondering where the wood grew; whether the workmen +who made them still survived, and what they could be doing with themselves now. +</p> + +<p> +Then we had several oil-paintings and rare old engravings of my father’s, +which he himself had bought in Paris, hanging up in the dining-room. +</p> + +<p> +Two of these were sea-pieces. One represented a fat-looking, smoky +fishing-boat, with three whiskerandoes in red caps, and their browsers legs +rolled up, hauling in a seine. There was high French-like land in one corner, +and a tumble-down gray lighthouse surmounting it. The waves were toasted brown, +and the whole picture looked mellow and old. I used to think a piece of it +might taste good. +</p> + +<p> +The other represented three old-fashioned French men-of-war with high castles, +like pagodas, on the bow and stern, such as you see in Froissart; and snug +little turrets on top of the mast, full of little men, with something +undefinable in their hands. All three were sailing through a bright-blue sea, +blue as Sicily skies; and they were leaning over on their sides at a fearful +angle; and they must have been going very fast, for the white spray was about +the bows like a snow-storm. +</p> + +<p> +Then, we had two large green French portfolios of colored prints, more than I +could lift at that age. Every Saturday my brothers and sisters used to get them +out of the corner where they were kept, and spreading them on the floor, gaze +at them with never-failing delight. +</p> + +<p> +They were of all sorts. Some were pictures of Versailles, its masquerades, its +drawing-rooms, its fountains, and courts, and gardens, with long lines of thick +foliage cut into fantastic doors and windows, and towers and pinnacles. Others +were rural scenes, full of fine skies, pensive cows standing up to the knees in +water, and shepherd-boys and cottages in the distance, half concealed in +vineyards and vines. +</p> + +<p> +And others were pictures of natural history, representing rhinoceroses and +elephants and spotted tigers; and above all there was a picture of a great +whale, as big as a ship, stuck full of harpoons, and three boats sailing after +it as fast as they could fly. +</p> + +<p> +Then, too, we had a large library-case, that stood in the hall; an old brown +library-case, tall as a small house; it had a sort of basement, with large +doors, and a lock and key; and higher up, there were glass doors, through which +might be seen long rows of old books, that had been printed in Paris, and +London, and Leipsic. There was a fine library edition of the Spectator, in six +large volumes with gilded backs; and many a time I gazed at the word +<i>“London”</i> on the title-page. And there was a copy of +D’Alembert in French, and I wondered what a great man I would be, if by +foreign travel I should ever be able to read straight along without stopping, +out of that book, which now was a riddle to every one in the house but my +father, whom I so much liked to hear talk French, as he sometimes did to a +servant we had. +</p> + +<p> +That servant, too, I used to gaze at with wonder; for in answer to my +incredulous cross-questions, he had over and over again assured me, that he had +really been born in Paris. But this I never entirely believed; for it seemed so +hard to comprehend, how a man who had been born in a foreign country, could be +dwelling with me in our house in America. +</p> + +<p> +As years passed on, this continual dwelling upon foreign associations, bred in +me a vague prophetic thought, that I was fated, one day or other, to be a great +voyager; and that just as my father used to entertain strange gentlemen over +their wine after dinner, I would hereafter be telling my own adventures to an +eager auditory. And I have no doubt that this presentiment had something to do +with bringing about my subsequent rovings. +</p> + +<p> +But that which perhaps more than any thing else, converted my vague dreamings +and longings into a definite purpose of seeking my fortune on the sea, was an +old-fashioned glass ship, about eighteen inches long, and of French +manufacture, which my father, some thirty years before, had brought home from +Hamburg as a present to a great-uncle of mine: Senator Wellingborough, who had +died a member of Congress in the days of the old Constitution, and after whom I +had the honor of being named. Upon the decease of the Senator, the ship was +returned to the donor. +</p> + +<p> +It was kept in a square glass case, which was regularly dusted by one of my +sisters every morning, and stood on a little claw-footed Dutch tea-table in one +corner of the sitting-room. This ship, after being the admiration of my +father’s visitors in the capital, became the wonder and delight of all +the people of the village where we now resided, many of whom used to call upon +my mother, for no other purpose than to see the ship. And well did it repay the +long and curious examinations which they were accustomed to give it. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place, every bit of it was glass, and that was a great wonder of +itself; because the masts, yards, and ropes were made to resemble exactly the +corresponding parts of a real vessel that could go to sea. She carried two +tiers of black guns all along her two decks; and often I used to try to peep in +at the portholes, to see what else was inside; but the holes were so small, and +it looked so very dark indoors, that I could discover little or nothing; +though, when I was very little, I made no doubt, that if I could but once pry +open the hull, and break the glass all to pieces, I would infallibly light upon +something wonderful, perhaps some gold guineas, of which I have always been in +want, ever since I could remember. And often I used to feel a sort of insane +desire to be the death of the glass ship, case, and all, in order to come at +the plunder; and one day, throwing out some hint of the kind to my sisters, +they ran to my mother in a great clamor; and after that, the ship was placed on +the mantel-piece for a time, beyond my reach, and until I should recover my +reason. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know how to account for this temporary madness of mine, unless it was, +that I had been reading in a story-book about Captain Kidd’s ship, that +lay somewhere at the bottom of the Hudson near the Highlands, full of gold as +it could be; and that a company of men were trying to dive down and get the +treasure out of the hold, which no one had ever thought of doing before, though +there she had lain for almost a hundred years. +</p> + +<p> +Not to speak of the tall masts, and yards, and rigging of this famous ship, +among whose mazes of spun-glass I used to rove in imagination, till I grew +dizzy at the main-truck, I will only make mention of the people on board of +her. They, too, were all of glass, as beautiful little glass sailors as any +body ever saw, with hats and shoes on, just like living men, and curious blue +jackets with a sort of ruffle round the bottom. Four or five of these sailors +were very nimble little chaps, and were mounting up the rigging with very long +strides; but for all that, they never gained a single inch in the year, as I +can take my oath. +</p> + +<p> +Another sailor was sitting astride of the spanker-boom, with his arms over his +head, but I never could find out what that was for; a second was in the +fore-top, with a coil of glass rigging over his shoulder; the cook, with a +glass ax, was splitting wood near the fore-hatch; the steward, in a glass +apron, was hurrying toward the cabin with a plate of glass pudding; and a glass +dog, with a red mouth, was barking at him; while the captain in a glass cap was +smoking a glass cigar on the quarterdeck. He was leaning against the bulwark, +with one hand to his head; perhaps he was unwell, for he looked very glassy out +of the eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The name of this curious ship was <i>La Reine,</i> or The Queen, which was +painted on her stern where any one might read it, among a crowd of glass +dolphins and sea-horses carved there in a sort of semicircle. +</p> + +<p> +And this Queen rode undisputed mistress of a green glassy sea, some of whose +waves were breaking over her bow in a wild way, I can tell you, and I used to +be giving her up for lost and foundered every moment, till I grew older, and +perceived that she was not in the slightest danger in the world. +</p> + +<p> +A good deal of dust, and fuzzy stuff like down, had in the course of many years +worked through the joints of the case, in which the ship was kept, so as to +cover all the sea with a light dash of white, which if any thing improved the +general effect, for it looked like the foam and froth raised by the terrible +gale the good Queen was battling against. +</p> + +<p> +So much for <i>La Reine.</i> We have her yet in the house, but many of her +glass spars and ropes are now sadly shattered and broken,—but I will not +have her mended; and her figurehead, a gallant warrior in a cocked-hat, lies +pitching headforemost down into the trough of a calamitous sea under the +bows—but I will not have him put on his legs again, till I get on my own; +for between him and me there is a secret sympathy; and my sisters tell me, even +yet, that he fell from his perch the very day I left home to go to sea on this +<i>my first voyage.</i> +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II.<br/> +REDBURN’S DEPARTURE FROM HOME</h2> + +<p> +It was with a heavy heart and full eyes, that my poor mother parted with me; +perhaps she thought me an erring and a willful boy, and perhaps I was; but if I +was, it had been a hardhearted world, and hard times that had made me so. I had +learned to think much and bitterly before my time; all my young mounting dreams +of glory had left me; and at that early age, I was as unambitious as a man of +sixty. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, I will go to sea; cut my kind uncles and aunts, and sympathizing patrons, +and leave no heavy hearts but those in my own home, and take none along but the +one which aches in my bosom. Cold, bitter cold as December, and bleak as its +blasts, seemed the world then to me; there is no misanthrope like a boy +disappointed; and such was I, with the warmth of me flogged out by adversity. +But these thoughts are bitter enough even now, for they have not yet gone quite +away; and they must be uncongenial enough to the reader; so no more of that, +and let me go on with my story. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I will write you, dear mother, as soon as I can,” murmured I, +as she charged me for the hundredth time, not fail to inform her of my safe +arrival in New York. +</p> + +<p> +“And now Mary, Martha, and Jane, kiss me all round, dear sisters, and +then I am off. I’ll be back in four months—it will be autumn then, +and we’ll go into the woods after nuts, an I’ll tell you all about +Europe. Good-by! good-by!” +</p> + +<p> +So I broke loose from their arms, and not daring to look behind, ran away as +fast as I could, till I got to the corner where my brother was waiting. He +accompanied me part of the way to the place, where the steamboat was to leave +for New York; instilling into me much sage advice above his age, for he was but +eight years my senior, and warning me again and again to take care of myself; +and I solemnly promised I would; for what cast-away will not promise to take of +care himself, when he sees that unless he himself does, no one else will. +</p> + +<p> +We walked on in silence till I saw that his strength was giving out,—he +was in ill health then,—and with a mute grasp of the hand, and a loud +thump at the heart, we parted. +</p> + +<p> +It was early on a raw, cold, damp morning toward the end of spring, and the +world was before me; stretching away a long muddy road, lined with comfortable +houses, whose inmates were taking their sunrise naps, heedless of the wayfarer +passing. The cold drops of drizzle trickled down my leather cap, and mingled +with a few hot tears on my cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +I had the whole road to myself, for no one was yet stirring, and I walked on, +with a slouching, dogged gait. The gray shooting-jacket was on my back, and +from the end of my brother’s rifle hung a small bundle of my clothes. My +fingers worked moodily at the stock and trigger, and I thought that this indeed +was the way to begin life, with a gun in your hand! +</p> + +<p> +Talk not of the bitterness of middle-age and after life; a boy can feel all +that, and much more, when upon his young soul the mildew has fallen; and the +fruit, which with others is only blasted after ripeness, with him is nipped in +the first blossom and bud. And never again can such blights be made good; they +strike in too deep, and leave such a scar that the air of Paradise might not +erase it. And it is a hard and cruel thing thus in early youth to taste +beforehand the pangs which should be reserved for the stout time of manhood, +when the gristle has become bone, and we stand up and fight out our lives, as a +thing tried before and foreseen; for then we are veterans used to sieges and +battles, and not green recruits, recoiling at the first shock of the encounter. +</p> + +<p> +At last gaining the boat we pushed off, and away we steamed down the Hudson. +There were few passengers on board, the day was so unpleasant; and they were +mostly congregated in the after cabin round the stoves. After breakfast, some +of them went to reading: others took a nap on the settees; and others sat in +silent circles, speculating, no doubt, as to who each other might be. +</p> + +<p> +They were certainly a cheerless set, and to me they all looked stony-eyed and +heartless. I could not help it, I almost hated them; and to avoid them, went on +deck, but a storm of sleet drove me below. At last I bethought me, that I had +not procured a ticket, and going to the captain’s office to pay my +passage and get one, was horror-struck to find, that the price of passage had +been suddenly raised that day, owing to the other boats not running; so that I +had not enough money to pay for my fare. I had supposed it would be but a +dollar, and only a dollar did I have, whereas it was two. What was to be done? +The boat was off, and there was no backing out; so I determined to say nothing +to any body, and grimly wait until called upon for my fare. +</p> + +<p> +The long weary day wore on till afternoon; one incessant storm raged on deck; +but after dinner the few passengers, waked up with their roast-beef and mutton, +became a little more sociable. Not with me, for the scent and savor of poverty +was upon me, and they all cast toward me their evil eyes and cold suspicious +glances, as I sat apart, though among them. I felt that desperation and +recklessness of poverty which only a pauper knows. There was a mighty patch +upon one leg of my trowsers, neatly sewed on, for it had been executed by my +mother, but still very obvious and incontrovertible to the eye. This patch I +had hitherto studiously endeavored to hide with the ample skirts of my +shooting-jacket; but now I stretched out my leg boldly, and thrust the patch +under their noses, and looked at them so, that they soon looked away, boy +though I was. Perhaps the gun that I clenched frightened them into respect; or +there might have been something ugly in my eye; or my teeth were white, and my +jaws were set. For several hours, I sat gazing at a jovial party seated round a +mahogany table, with some crackers and cheese, and wine and cigars. Their faces +were flushed with the good dinner they had eaten; and mine felt pale and wan +with a long fast. If I had presumed to offer to make one of their party; if I +had told them of my circumstances, and solicited something to refresh me, I +very well knew from the peculiar hollow ring of their laughter, they would have +had the waiters put me out of the cabin, for a beggar, who had no business to +be warming himself at their stove. And for that insult, though only a conceit, +I sat and gazed at them, putting up no petitions for their prosperity. My whole +soul was soured within me, and when at last the captain’s clerk, a +slender young man, dressed in the height of fashion, with a gold watch chain +and broach, came round collecting the tickets, I buttoned up my coat to the +throat, clutched my gun, put on my leather cap, and pulling it well down, stood +up like a sentry before him. He held out his hand, deeming any remark +superfluous, as his object in pausing before me must be obvious. But I stood +motionless and silent, and in a moment he saw how it was with me. I ought to +have spoken and told him the case, in plain, civil terms, and offered my +dollar, and then waited the event. But I felt too wicked for that. He did not +wait a great while, but spoke first himself; and in a gruff voice, very unlike +his urbane accents when accosting the wine and cigar party, demanded my ticket. +I replied that I had none. He then demanded the money; and upon my answering +that I had not enough, in a loud angry voice that attracted all eyes, he +ordered me out of the cabin into the storm. The devil in me then mounted up +from my soul, and spread over my frame, till it tingled at my finger ends; and +I muttered out my resolution to stay where I was, in such a manner, that the +ticket man faltered back. “There’s a dollar for you,” I +added, offering it. +</p> + +<p> +“I want two,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Take that or nothing,” I answered; “it is all I have.” +</p> + +<p> +I thought he would strike me. But, accepting the money, he contented himself +with saying something about sportsmen going on shooting expeditions, without +having money to pay their expenses; and hinted that such chaps might better lay +aside their fowling-pieces, and assume the buck and saw. He then passed on, and +left every eye fastened upon me. +</p> + +<p> +I stood their gazing some time, but at last could stand it no more. I pushed my +seat right up before the most insolent gazer, a short fat man, with a plethora +of cravat round his neck, and fixing my gaze on his, gave him more gazes than +he sent. This somewhat embarrassed him, and he looked round for some one to +take hold of me; but no one coming, he pretended to be very busy counting the +gilded wooden beams overhead. I then turned to the next gazer, and clicking my +gun-lock, deliberately presented the piece at him. +</p> + +<p> +Upon this, he overset his seat in his eagerness to get beyond my range, for I +had him point blank, full in the left eye; and several persons starting to +their feet, exclaimed that I must be crazy. So I was at that time; for +otherwise I know not how to account for my demoniac feelings, of which I was +afterward heartily ashamed, as I ought to have been, indeed; and much more than +that. +</p> + +<p> +I then turned on my heel, and shouldering my fowling-piece and bundle, marched +on deck, and walked there through the dreary storm, till I was wet through, and +the boat touched the wharf at New York. +</p> + +<p> +Such is boyhood. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III.<br/> +HE ARRIVES IN TOWN</h2> + +<p> +From the boat’s bow, I jumped ashore, before she was secured, and +following my brother’s directions, proceeded across the town toward St. +John’s Park, to the house of a college friend of his, for whom I had a +letter. +</p> + +<p> +It was a long walk; and I stepped in at a sort of grocery to get a drink of +water, where some six or eight rough looking fellows were playing dominoes upon +the counter, seated upon cheese boxes. They winked, and asked what sort of +sport I had had gunning on such a rainy day, but I only gulped down my water +and stalked off. +</p> + +<p> +Dripping like a seal, I at last grounded arms at the doorway of my +brother’s friend, rang the bell and inquired for him. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want?” said the servant, eying me as if I were a +housebreaker. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see your lord and master; show me into the parlor.” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this my host himself happened to make his appearance, and seeing who I +was, opened his hand and heart to me at once, and drew me to his fireside; he +had received a letter from my brother, and had expected me that day. +</p> + +<p> +The family were at tea; the fragrant herb filled the room with its aroma; the +brown toast was odoriferous; and everything pleasant and charming. After a +temporary warming, I was shown to a room, where I changed my wet dress, and +returning to the table, found that the interval had been well improved by my +hostess; a meal for a traveler was spread and I laid into it sturdily. Every +mouthful pushed the devil that had been tormenting me all day farther and +farther out of me, till at last I entirely ejected him with three successive +bowls of Bohea. +</p> + +<p> +Magic of kind words, and kind deeds, and good tea! That night I went to bed +thinking the world pretty tolerable, after all; and I could hardly believe that +I had really acted that morning as I had, for I was naturally of an easy and +forbearing disposition; though when such a disposition is temporarily roused, +it is perhaps worse than a cannibal’s. +</p> + +<p> +Next day, my brother’s friend, whom I choose to call Mr. Jones, +accompanied me down to the docks among the shipping, in order to get me a +place. After a good deal of searching we lighted upon a ship for Liverpool, and +found the captain in the cabin; which was a very handsome one, lined with +mahogany and maple; and the steward, an elegant looking mulatto in a gorgeous +turban, was setting out on a sort of sideboard some dinner service which looked +like silver, but it was only Britannia ware highly polished. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as I clapped my eye on the captain, I thought myself he was just the +captain to suit me. He was a fine looking man, about forty, splendidly dressed, +with very black whiskers, and very white teeth, and what I took to be a free, +frank look out of a large hazel eye. I liked him amazingly. He was promenading +up and down the cabin, humming some brisk air to himself when we entered. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, sir,” said my friend. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, good morning, sir,” said the captain. +“Steward, chairs for the gentlemen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! never mind, sir,” said Mr. Jones, rather taken aback by his +extreme civility. “I merely called to see whether you want a fine young +lad to go to sea with you. Here he is; he has long wanted to be a sailor; and +his friends have at last concluded to let him go for one voyage, and see how he +likes it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! indeed!” said the captain, blandly, and looking where I stood. +“He’s a fine fellow; I like him. So you want to be a sailor, my +boy, do you?” added he, affectionately patting my head. “It’s +a hard life, though; a hard life.” +</p> + +<p> +But when I looked round at his comfortable, and almost luxurious cabin, and +then at his handsome care-free face, I thought he was only trying to frighten +me, and I answered, “Well, sir, I am ready to try it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope he’s a country lad, sir,” said the captain to my +friend, “these city boys are sometimes hard cases.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! yes, he’s from the country,” was the reply, “and +of a highly respectable family; his great-uncle died a Senator.” +</p> + +<p> +“But his great-uncle don’t want to go to sea too?” said the +captain, looking funny. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! no, oh, no!— Ha! ha!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha! ha!” echoed the captain. +</p> + +<p> +A fine funny gentleman, thought I, not much fancying, however, his levity +concerning my great-uncle, he’ll be cracking his jokes the whole voyage; +and so I afterward said to one of the riggers on board; but he bade me look +out, that he did not crack my head. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my lad,” said the captain, “I suppose you know we +haven’t any pastures and cows on board; you can’t get any milk at +sea, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I know all about that, sir; my father has crossed the ocean, if I +haven’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” cried my friend, “his father, a gentleman of one of +the first families in America, crossed the Atlantic several times on important +business.” +</p> + +<p> +“Embassador extraordinary?” said the captain, looking funny again. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! no, he was a wealthy merchant.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! indeed;” said the captain, looking grave and bland again, +“then this fine lad is the son of a gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said my friend, “and he’s only going to +sea for the humor of it; they want to send him on his travels with a tutor, but +he <i>will</i> go to sea as a sailor.” +</p> + +<p> +The fact was, that my young friend (for he was only about twenty-five) was not +a very wise man; and this was a huge fib, which out of the kindness of his +heart, he told in my behalf, for the purpose of creating a profound respect for +me in the eyes of my future lord. +</p> + +<p> +Upon being apprized, that I had willfully forborne taking the grand tour with a +tutor, in order to put my hand in a tar-bucket, the handsome captain looked ten +times more funny than ever; and said that <i>he</i> himself would be my tutor, +and take me on my travels, and pay for the privilege. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said my friend, “that reminds me of business. Pray, +captain, how much do you generally pay a handsome young fellow like +this?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the captain, looking grave and profound, “we are +not so particular about beauty, and we never give more than three dollars to a +green lad like Wellingborough here, that’s your name, my boy? +Wellingborough Redburn!—Upon my soul, a fine sounding name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, captain,” said Mr. Jones, quickly interrupting him, +“that won’t pay for his clothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you know his highly respectable and wealthy relations will doubtless +see to all that,” replied the captain, with his funny look again. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! yes, I forgot that,” said Mr. Jones, looking rather foolish. +“His friends will of course see to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said the captain smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” repeated Mr. Jones, looking ruefully at the patch on +my pantaloons, which just then I endeavored to hide with the skirt of my +shooting-jacket. +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite a sportsman I see,” said the captain, eying the +great buttons on my coat, upon each of which was a carved fox. +</p> + +<p> +Upon this my benevolent friend thought that here was a grand opportunity to +befriend me. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he’s quite a sportsman,” said he, “he’s got +a very valuable fowling-piece at home, perhaps you would like to purchase it, +captain, to shoot gulls with at sea? It’s cheap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! no, he had better leave it with his relations,” said the +captain, “so that he can go hunting again when he returns from +England.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, perhaps that <i>would</i> be better, after all,” said my +friend, pretending to fall into a profound musing, involving all sides of the +matter in hand. “Well, then, captain, you can only give the boy three +dollars a month, you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only three dollars a month,” said the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“And I believe,” said my friend, “that you generally give +something in advance, do you not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that is sometimes the custom at the shipping offices,” said +the captain, with a bow, “but in this case, as the boy has rich +relations, there will be no need of that, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +And thus, by his ill-advised, but well-meaning hints concerning the +respectability of my paternity, and the immense wealth of my relations, did +this really honest-hearted but foolish friend of mine, prevent me from getting +three dollars in advance, which I greatly needed. However, I said nothing, +though I thought the more; and particularly, how that it would have been much +better for me, to have gone on board alone, accosted the captain on my own +account, and told him the plain truth. Poor people make a very poor business of +it when they try to seem rich. +</p> + +<p> +The arrangement being concluded, we bade the captain good morning; and as we +were about leaving the cabin, he smiled again, and said, “Well, Redburn, +my boy, you won’t get home-sick before you sail, because that will make +you very sea-sick when you get to sea.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he smiled very pleasantly, and bowed two or three times, and told +the steward to open the cabin-door, which the steward did with a peculiar sort +of grin on his face, and a slanting glance at my shooting-jacket. And so we +left. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br/> +HOW HE DISPOSED OF HIS FOWLING-PIECE</h2> + +<p> +Next day I went alone to the shipping office to sign the articles, and there I +met a great crowd of sailors, who as soon as they found what I was after, began +to tip the wink all round, and I overheard a fellow in a great flapping +sou’wester cap say to another old tar in a shaggy monkey-jacket, +“Twig his coat, d’ye see the buttons, that chap ain’t going +to sea in a merchantman, he’s going to shoot whales. I say, +maty—look here—how d’ye sell them big buttons by the +pound?” +</p> + +<p> +“Give us one for a saucer, will ye?” said another. +</p> + +<p> +“Let the youngster alone,” said a third. “Come here, my +little boy, has your ma put up some sweetmeats for ye to take to sea?” +</p> + +<p> +They are all witty dogs, thought I to myself, trying to make the best of the +matter, for I saw it would not do to resent what they said; they can’t +mean any harm, though they are certainly very impudent; so I tried to laugh off +their banter, but as soon as ever I could, I put down my name and beat a +retreat. +</p> + +<p> +On the morrow, the ship was advertised to sail. So the rest of that day I spent +in preparations. After in vain trying to sell my fowling-piece for a fair price +to chance customers, I was walking up Chatham-street with it, when a +curly-headed little man with a dark oily face, and a hooked nose, like the +pictures of Judas Iscariot, called to me from a strange-looking shop, with +three gilded balls hanging over it. +</p> + +<p> +With a peculiar accent, as if he had been over-eating himself with +Indian-pudding or some other plushy compound, this curly-headed little man very +civilly invited me into his shop; and making a polite bow, and bidding me many +unnecessary good mornings, and remarking upon the fine weather, begged me to +let him look at my fowling-piece. I handed it to him in an instant, glad of the +chance of disposing of it, and told him that was just what I wanted. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said he, with his Indian-pudding accent again, which I will +not try to mimic, and abating his look of eagerness, “I thought it was a +better article, it’s very old.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not,” said I, starting in surprise, “it’s not been +used more than three times; what will you give for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t <i>buy</i> any thing here,” said he, suddenly +looking very indifferent, “this is a place where people <i>pawn</i> +things.” <i>Pawn</i> being a word I had never heard before, I asked him +what it meant; when he replied, that when people wanted any money, they came to +him with their fowling-pieces, and got one third its value, and then left the +fowling-piece there, until they were able to pay back the money. +</p> + +<p> +What a benevolent little old man, this must be, thought I, and how very +obliging. +</p> + +<p> +“And pray,” said I, “how much will you let me have for my +gun, by way of a pawn?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I suppose it’s worth six dollars, and seeing you’re a +boy, I’ll let you have three dollars upon it” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” exclaimed I, seizing the fowling-piece, “it’s +worth five times that, I’ll go somewhere else.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, then,” said he, “I hope you’ll do +better,” and he bowed me out as if he expected to see me again pretty +soon. +</p> + +<p> +I had not gone very far when I came across three more balls hanging over a +shop. In I went, and saw a long counter, with a sort of picket-fence, running +all along from end to end, and three little holes, with three little old men +standing inside of them, like prisoners looking out of a jail. Back of the +counter were all sorts of things, piled up and labeled. Hats, and caps, and +coats, and guns, and swords, and canes, and chests, and planes, and books, and +writing-desks, and every thing else. And in a glass case were lots of watches, +and seals, chains, and rings, and breastpins, and all kinds of trinkets. At one +of the little holes, earnestly talking with one of the hook-nosed men, was a +thin woman in a faded silk gown and shawl, holding a pale little girl by the +hand. As I drew near, she spoke lower in a whisper; and the man shook his head, +and looked cross and rude; and then some more words were exchanged over a +miniature, and some money was passed through the hole, and the woman and child +shrank out of the door. +</p> + +<p> +I won’t sell my gun to that man, thought I; and I passed on to the next +hole; and while waiting there to be served, an elderly man in a high-waisted +surtout, thrust a silver snuff-box through; and a young man in a calico shirt +and a shiny coat with a velvet collar presented a silver watch; and a sheepish +boy in a cloak took out a frying-pan; and another little boy had a Bible; and +all these things were thrust through to the hook-nosed man, who seemed ready to +hook any thing that came along; so I had no doubt he would gladly hook my gun, +for the long picketed counter seemed like a great seine, that caught every +variety of fish. +</p> + +<p> +At last I saw a chance, and crowded in for the hole; and in order to be +beforehand with a big man who just then came in, I pushed my gun violently +through the hole; upon which the hook-nosed man cried out, thinking I was going +to shoot him. But at last he took the gun, turned it end for end, clicked the +trigger three times, and then said, “one dollar.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about one dollar?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all I’ll give,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what do you want?” and he turned to the next person. This +was a young man in a seedy red cravat and a pimply face, that looked as if it +was going to seed likewise, who, with a mysterious tapping of his vest-pocket +and other hints, made a great show of having something confidential to +communicate. +</p> + +<p> +But the hook-nosed man spoke out very loud, and said, “None of that; take +it out. Got a stolen watch? We don’t deal in them things here.” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this the young man flushed all over, and looked round to see who had heard +the pawnbroker; then he took something very small out of his pocket, and +keeping it hidden under his palm, pushed it into the hole. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get this ring?” said the pawnbroker. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to pawn it,” whispered the other, blushing all over again. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s your name?” said the pawnbroker, speaking very loud. +</p> + +<p> +“How much will you give?” whispered the other in reply, leaning +over, and looking as if he wanted to hush up the pawnbroker. +</p> + +<p> +At last the sum was agreed upon, when the man behind the counter took a little +ticket, and tying the ring to it began to write on the ticket; all at once he +asked the young man where he lived, a question which embarrassed him very much; +but at last he stammered out a certain number in Broadway. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the City Hotel: you don’t live there,” said the +man, cruelly glancing at the shabby coat before him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! well,” stammered the other blushing scarlet, “I thought +this was only a sort of form to go through; I don’t like to tell where I +do live, for I ain’t in the habit of going to pawnbrokers.” +</p> + +<p> +“You stole that ring, you know you did,” roared out the hook-nosed +man, incensed at this slur upon his calling, and now seemingly bent on damaging +the young man’s character for life. “I’m a good mind to call +a constable; we don’t take stolen goods here, I tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +All eyes were now fixed suspiciously upon this martyrized young man; who looked +ready to drop into the earth; and a poor woman in a night-cap, with some +baby-clothes in her hand, looked fearfully at the pawnbroker, as if dreading to +encounter such a terrible pattern of integrity. At last the young man sunk off +with his money, and looking out of the window, I saw him go round the corner so +sharply that he knocked his elbow against the wall. +</p> + +<p> +I waited a little longer, and saw several more served; and having remarked that +the hook-nosed men invariably fixed their own price upon every thing, and if +that was refused told the person to be off with himself; I concluded that it +would be of no use to try and get more from them than they had offered; +especially when I saw that they had a great many fowling-pieces hanging up, and +did not have particular occasion for mine; and more than that, they must be +very well off and rich, to treat people so cavalierly. +</p> + +<p> +My best plan then seemed to be to go right back to the curly-headed pawnbroker, +and take up with my first offer. But when I went back, the curly-headed man was +very busy about something else, and kept me waiting a long time; at last I got +a chance and told him I would take the three dollars he had offered. +</p> + +<p> +“Ought to have taken it when you could get it,” he replied. +“I won’t give but two dollars and a half for it now.” +</p> + +<p> +In vain I expostulated; he was not to be moved, so I pocketed the money and +departed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V.<br/> +HE PURCHASES HIS SEA-WARDROBE, AND ON A DISMAL RAINY DAY PICKS UP HIS BOARD +AND LODGING ALONG THE WHARVES</h2> + +<p> +The first thing I now did was to buy a little stationery, and keep my promise +to my mother, by writing her; and I also wrote to my brother informing him of +the voyage I purposed making, and indulging in some romantic and misanthropic +views of life, such as many boys in my circumstances, are accustomed to do. +</p> + +<p> +The rest of the two dollars and a half I laid out that very morning in buying a +red woolen shirt near Catharine Market, a tarpaulin hat, which I got at an +out-door stand near Peck Slip, a belt and jackknife, and two or three trifles. +After these purchases, I had only one penny left, so I walked out to the end of +the pier, and threw the penny into the water. The reason why I did this, was +because I somehow felt almost desperate again, and didn’t care what +became of me. But if the penny had been a dollar, I would have kept it. +</p> + +<p> +I went home to dinner at Mr. Jones’, and they welcomed me very kindly, +and Mrs. Jones kept my plate full all the time during dinner, so that I had no +chance to empty it. She seemed to see that I felt bad, and thought plenty of +pudding might help me. At any rate, I never felt so bad yet but I could eat a +good dinner. And once, years afterward, when I expected to be killed every day, +I remember my appetite was very keen, and I said to myself, “Eat away, +Wellingborough, while you can, for this may be the last supper you will +have.” +</p> + +<p> +After dinner I went into my room, locked the door carefully, and hung a towel +over the knob, so that no one could peep through the keyhole, and then went to +trying on my red woolen shirt before the glass, to see what sort of a looking +sailor I was going to make. As soon as I got into the shirt I began to feel +sort of warm and red about the face, which I found was owing to the reflection +of the dyed wool upon my skin. After that, I took a pair of scissors and went +to cutting my hair, which was very long. I thought every little would help, in +making me a light hand to run aloft. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning I bade my kind host and hostess good-by, and left the house with +my bundle, feeling somewhat misanthropical and desperate again. +</p> + +<p> +Before I reached the ship, it began to rain hard; and as soon as I arrived at +the wharf, it was plain that there would be no getting to sea that day. +</p> + +<p> +This was a great disappointment to me, for I did not want to return to Mr. +Jones’ again after bidding them good-by; it would be so awkward. So I +concluded to go on board ship for the present. +</p> + +<p> +When I reached the deck, I saw no one but a large man in a large dripping +pea-jacket, who was calking down the main-hatches. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want, Pillgarlic?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve shipped to sail in this ship,” I replied, assuming a +little dignity, to chastise his familiarity. +</p> + +<p> +“What for? a tailor?” said he, looking at my shooting jacket. +</p> + +<p> +I answered that I was going as a “boy;” for so I was technically +put down on the articles. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, “have you got your traps aboard?” +</p> + +<p> +I told him I didn’t know there were any rats in the ship, and +hadn’t brought any “trap.” +</p> + +<p> +At this he laughed out with a great guffaw, and said there must be hay-seed in +my hair. +</p> + +<p> +This made me mad; but thinking he must be one of the sailors who was going in +the ship, I thought it wouldn’t be wise to make an enemy of him, so only +asked him where the men slept in the vessel, for I wanted to put my clothes +away. +</p> + +<p> +<i>“Where’s</i> your clothes?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Here in my bundle,” said I, holding it up. +</p> + +<p> +“Well if that’s all you’ve got,” he cried, +“you’d better chuck it overboard. But go forward, go forward to the +forecastle; that’s the place you’ll live in aboard here.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he directed me to a sort of hole in the deck in the bow of the +ship; but looking down, and seeing how dark it was, I asked him for a light. +</p> + +<p> +“Strike your eyes together and make one,” said he, “we +don’t have any lights here.” So I groped my way down into the +forecastle, which smelt so bad of old ropes and tar, that it almost made me +sick. After waiting patiently, I began to see a little; and looking round, at +last perceived I was in a smoky looking place, with twelve wooden boxes stuck +round the sides. In some of these boxes were large chests, which I at once +supposed to belong to the sailors, who must have taken that method of +appropriating their “Trunks,” as I afterward found these boxes were +called. And so it turned out. +</p> + +<p> +After examining them for a while, I selected an empty one, and put my bundle +right in the middle of it, so that there might be no mistake about my claim to +the place, particularly as the bundle was so small. +</p> + +<p> +This done, I was glad to get on deck; and learning to a certainty that the ship +would not sail till the next day, I resolved to go ashore, and walk about till +dark, and then return and sleep out the night in the forecastle. So I walked +about all over, till I was weary, and went into a mean liquor shop to rest; for +having my tarpaulin on, and not looking very gentlemanly, I was afraid to go +into any better place, for fear of being driven out. Here I sat till I began to +feel very hungry; and seeing some doughnuts on the counter, I began to think +what a fool I had been, to throw away my last penny; for the doughnuts were but +a penny apiece, and they looked very plump, and fat, and round. I never saw +doughnuts look so enticing before; especially when a negro came in, and ate one +before my eyes. At last I thought I would fill up a little by drinking a glass +of water; having read somewhere that this was a good plan to follow in a case +like the present. I did not feel thirsty, but only hungry; so had much ado to +get down the water; for it tasted warm; and the tumbler had an ugly flavor; the +negro had been drinking some spirits out of it just before. +</p> + +<p> +I marched off again, every once in a while stopping to take in some more water, +and being very careful not to step into the same shop twice, till night came +on, and I found myself soaked through, for it had been raining more or less all +day. As I went to the ship, I could not help thinking how lonesome it would be, +to spend the whole night in that damp and dark forecastle, without light or +fire, and nothing to lie on but the bare boards of my bunk. However, to drown +all such thoughts, I gulped down another glass of water, though I was wet +enough outside and in by this time; and trying to put on a bold look, as if I +had just been eating a hearty meal, I stepped aboard the ship. +</p> + +<p> +The man in the big pea-jacket was not to be seen; but on going forward I +unexpectedly found a young lad there, about my own age; and as soon as he +opened his mouth I knew he was not an American. He talked such a curious +language though, half English and half gibberish, that I knew not what to make +of him; and was a little astonished, when he told me he was an English boy, +from Lancashire. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed, he had come over from Liverpool in this very ship on her last +voyage, as a steerage passenger; but finding that he would have to work very +hard to get along in America, and getting home-sick into the bargain, he had +arranged with the captain to work his passage back. +</p> + +<p> +I was glad to have some company, and tried to get him conversing; but found he +was the most stupid and ignorant boy I had ever met with. I asked him something +about the river Thames; when he said that he hadn’t traveled any in +America and didn’t know any thing about the rivers here. And when I told +him the river Thames was in England, he showed no surprise or shame at his +ignorance, but only looked ten times more stupid than before. +</p> + +<p> +At last we went below into the forecastle, and both getting into the same bunk, +stretched ourselves out on the planks, and I tried my best to get asleep. But +though my companion soon began to snore very loud, for me, I could not forget +myself, owing to the horrid smell of the place, my being so wet, cold, and +hungry, and besides all that, I felt damp and clammy about the heart. I lay +turning over and over, listening to the Lancashire boy’s snoring, till at +last I felt so, that I had to go on deck; and there I walked till morning, +which I thought would never come. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as I thought the groceries on the wharf would be open I left the ship +and went to make my breakfast of another glass of water. But this made me very +qualmish; and soon I felt sick as death; my head was dizzy; and I went +staggering along the walk, almost blind. At last I dropt on a heap of +chain-cable, and shutting my eyes hard, did my best to rally myself, in which I +succeeded, at last, enough to get up and walk off. Then I thought that I had +done wrong in not returning to my friend’s house the day before; and +would have walked there now, as it was, only it was at least three miles up +town; too far for me to walk in such a state, and I had no sixpence to ride in +an omnibus. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br/> +HE IS INITIATED IN THE BUSINESS OF CLEANING OUT THE PIG-PEN, AND SLUSHING DOWN +THE TOP-MAST</h2> + +<p> +By the time I got back to the ship, every thing was in an uproar. The +pea-jacket man was there, ordering about a good many men in the rigging, and +people were bringing off chickens, and pigs, and beef, and vegetables from the +shore. Soon after, another man, in a striped calico shirt, a short blue jacket +and beaver hat, made his appearance, and went to ordering about the man in the +big pea-jacket; and at last the captain came up the side, and began to order +about both of them. +</p> + +<p> +These two men turned out to be the first and second mates of the ship. +</p> + +<p> +Thinking to make friends with the second mate, I took out an old tortoise-shell +snuff-box of my father’s, in which I had put a piece of Cavendish +tobacco, to look sailor-like, and offered the box to him very politely. He +stared at me a moment, and then exclaimed, “Do you think we take snuff +aboard here, youngster? no, no, no time for snuff-taking at sea; don’t +let the ‘old man’ see that snuff-box; take my advice and pitch it +overboard as quick as you can.” +</p> + +<p> +I told him it was not snuff, but tobacco; when he said, he had plenty of +tobacco of his own, and never carried any such nonsense about him as a +tobacco-box. With that, he went off about his business, and left me feeling +foolish enough. But I had reason to be glad he had acted thus, for if he had +not, I think I should have offered my box to the chief mate, who in that case, +from what I afterward learned of him, would have knocked me down, or done +something else equally uncivil. +</p> + +<p> +As I was standing looking round me, the chief mate approached in a great hurry +about something, and seeing me in his way, cried out, “Ashore with you, +you young loafer! There’s no stealings here; sail away, I tell you, with +that shooting-jacket!” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this I retreated, saying that I was going out in the ship as a sailor. +</p> + +<p> +“A sailor!” he cried, “a barber’s clerk, you mean; +<i>you</i> going out in the ship? what, in that jacket? Hang me, I hope the old +man hasn’t been shipping any more greenhorns like you—he’ll +make a shipwreck of it if he has. But this is the way nowadays; to save a few +dollars in seamen’s wages, they think nothing of shipping a parcel of +farmers and clodhoppers and baby-boys. What’s your name, +Pillgarlic?” +</p> + +<p> +“Redburn,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“A pretty handle to a man, that; scorch you to take hold of it; +haven’t you got any other?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wellingborough,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Worse yet. Who had the baptizing of ye? Why didn’t they call you +Jack, or Jill, or something short and handy. But I’ll baptize you over +again. D’ye hear, sir, henceforth your name is <i>Buttons.</i> And now do +you go, Buttons, and clean out that pig-pen in the long-boat; it has not been +cleaned out since last voyage. And bear a hand about it, d’ye hear; +there’s them pigs there waiting to be put in; come, be off about it, +now.” +</p> + +<p> +Was this then the beginning of my sea-career? set to cleaning out a pig-pen, +the very first thing? +</p> + +<p> +But I thought it best to say nothing; I had bound myself to obey orders, and it +was too late to retreat. So I only asked for a shovel, or spade, or something +else to work with. +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t dig gardens here,” was the reply; “dig it out +with your teeth!” +</p> + +<p> +After looking round, I found a stick and went to scraping out the pen, which +was awkward work enough, for another boat called the “jolly-boat,” +was capsized right over the longboat, which brought them almost close together. +These two boats were in the middle of the deck. I managed to crawl inside of +the long-boat; and after barking my shins against the seats, and bumping my +head a good many times, I got along to the stern, where the pig-pen was. +</p> + +<p> +While I was hard at work a drunken sailor peeped in, and cried out to his +comrades, “Look here, my lads, what sort of a pig do you call this? +Hallo! inside there! what are you ’bout there? trying to stow yourself +away to steal a passage to Liverpool? Out of that! out of that, I say.” +But just then the mate came along and ordered this drunken rascal ashore. +</p> + +<p> +The pig-pen being cleaned out, I was set to work picking up some shavings, +which lay about the deck; for there had been carpenters at work on board. The +mate ordered me to throw these shavings into the long-boat at a particular +place between two of the seats. But as I found it hard work to push the +shavings through in that place, and as it looked wet there, I thought it would +be better for the shavings as well as myself, to thrust them where there was a +larger opening and a dry spot. While I was thus employed, the mate observing +me, exclaimed with an oath, “Didn’t I tell you to put those +shavings somewhere else? Do what I tell you, now, Buttons, or mind your +eye!” +</p> + +<p> +Stifling my indignation at his rudeness, which by this time I found was my only +plan, I replied that that was not so good a place for the shavings as that +which I myself had selected, and asked him to tell me <i>why</i> he wanted me +to put them in the place he designated. Upon this, he flew into a terrible +rage, and without explanation reiterated his order like a clap of thunder. +</p> + +<p> +This was my first lesson in the discipline of the sea, and I never forgot it. +From that time I learned that sea-officers never gave reasons for any thing +they order to be done. It is enough that they command it, so that the motto is, +<i>“Obey orders, though you break owners.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +I now began to feel very faint and sick <i>again,</i> and longed for the ship +to be leaving the dock; for then I made no doubt we would soon be having +something to eat. But as yet, I saw none of the sailors on board, and as for +the men at work in the rigging, I found out that they were +<i>“riggers,”</i> that is, men living ashore, who worked by the day +in getting ships ready for sea; and this I found out to my cost, for yielding +to the kind blandishment of one of these <i>riggers, I</i> had swapped away my +jackknife with him for a much poorer one of his own, thinking to secure a +sailor friend for the voyage. At last I watched my chance, and while +people’s backs were turned, I seized a carrot from several bunches lying +on deck, and clapping it under the skirts of my shooting-jacket, went forward +to eat it; for I had often eaten raw carrots, which taste something like +chestnuts. This carrot refreshed me a good deal, though at the expense of a +little pain in my stomach. Hardly had I disposed of it, when I heard the chief +mate’s voice crying out for “Buttons.” I ran after him, and +received an order to go aloft and “slush down the main-top mast.” +</p> + +<p> +This was all Greek to me, and after receiving the order, I stood staring about +me, wondering what it was that was to be done. But the mate had turned on his +heel, and made no explanations. At length I followed after him, and asked what +I must do. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t I tell you to slush down the main-top mast?” he +shouted. +</p> + +<p> +“You did,” said I, “but I don’t know what that +means.” +</p> + +<p> +“Green as grass! a regular cabbage-head!” he exclaimed to himself. +“A fine time I’ll have with such a greenhorn aboard. Look you, +youngster. Look up to that long pole there—d’ye see it? that piece +of a tree there, you timber-head—well—take this bucket here, and go +up the rigging—that rope-ladder there—do you understand?—and +dab this slush all over the mast, and look out for your head if one drop falls +on deck. Be off now, Buttons.” +</p> + +<p> +The eventful hour had arrived; for the first time in my life I was to ascend a +ship’s mast. Had I been well and hearty, perhaps I should have felt a +little shaky at the thought; but as I was then, weak and faint, the bare +thought appalled me. +</p> + +<p> +But there was no hanging back; it would look like cowardice, and I could not +bring myself to confess that I was suffering for want of food; so rallying +again, I took up the bucket. +</p> + +<p> +It was a heavy bucket, with strong iron hoops, and might have held perhaps two +gallons. But it was only half full now of a sort of thick lobbered gravy, which +I afterward learned was boiled out of the salt beef used by the sailors. Upon +getting into the rigging, I found it was no easy job to carry this heavy bucket +up with me. The rope handle of it was so slippery with grease, that although I +twisted it several times about my wrist, it would be still twirling round and +round, and slipping off. Spite of this, however, I managed to mount as far as +the “top,” the clumsy bucket half the time straddling and swinging +about between my legs, and in momentary danger of capsizing. Arrived at the +“top,” I came to a dead halt, and looked up. How to surmount that +overhanging impediment completely posed me for the time. But at last, with much +straining, I contrived to place my bucket in the “top;” and then, +trusting to Providence, swung myself up after it. The rest of the road was +comparatively easy; though whenever I incautiously looked down toward the deck, +my head spun round so from weakness, that I was obliged to shut my eyes to +recover myself. I do not remember much more. I only recollect my safe return to +the deck. +</p> + +<p> +In a short time the bustle of the ship increased; the trunks of cabin +passengers arrived, and the chests and boxes of the steerage passengers, +besides baskets of wine and fruit for the captain. +</p> + +<p> +At last we cast loose, and swinging out into the stream, came to anchor, and +hoisted the signal for sailing. Every thing, it seemed, was on board but the +crew; who in a few hours after, came off, one by one, in Whitehall boats, their +chests in the bow, and themselves lying back in the stem like lords; and +showing very plainly the complacency they felt in keeping the whole ship +waiting for their lordships. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay,” muttered the chief mate, as they rolled out of then-boats +and swaggered on deck, “it’s your turn now, but it will be mine +before long. Yaw about while you may, my hearties, I’ll do the yawing +after the anchor’s up.” +</p> + +<p> +Several of the sailors were very drunk, and one of them was lifted on board +insensible by his landlord, who carried him down below and dumped him into a +bunk. And two other sailors, as soon as they made their appearance, immediately +went below to sleep off the fumes of their drink. +</p> + +<p> +At last, all the crew being on board, word was passed to go to dinner fore and +aft, an order that made my heart jump with delight, for now my long fast would +be broken. But though the sailors, surfeited with eating and drinking ashore, +did not then touch the salt beef and potatoes which the black cook handed down +into the forecastle; and though this left the whole allowance to me; to my +surprise, I found that I could eat little or nothing; for now I only felt +deadly faint, but not hungry. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br/> +HE GETS TO SEA AND FEELS VERY BAD</h2> + +<p> +Every thing at last being in readiness, the pilot came on board, and all hands +were called to up anchor. While I worked at my bar, I could not help observing +how haggard the men looked, and how much they suffered from this violent +exercise, after the terrific dissipation in which they had been indulging +ashore. But I soon learnt that sailors breathe nothing about such things, but +strive their best to appear all alive and hearty, though it comes very hard for +many of them. +</p> + +<p> +The anchor being secured, a steam tug-boat with a strong name, the Hercules, +took hold of us; and away we went past the long line of shipping, and wharves, +and warehouses; and rounded the green south point of the island where the +Battery is, and passed Governor’s Island, and pointed right out for the +Narrows. +</p> + +<p> +My heart was like lead, and I felt bad enough, Heaven knows; but then, there +was plenty of work to be done, which kept my thoughts from becoming too much +for me. +</p> + +<p> +And I tried to think all the time, that I was going to England, and that, +before many months, I should have actually been there and home again, telling +my adventures to my brothers and sisters; and with what delight they would +listen, and how they would look up to me then, and reverence my sayings; and +how that even my elder brother would be forced to treat me with great +consideration, as having crossed the Atlantic Ocean, which he had never done, +and there was no probability he ever would. +</p> + +<p> +With such thoughts as these I endeavored to shake off my heavy-heartedness; but +it would not do at all; for this was only the first day of the voyage, and many +weeks, nay, several whole months must elapse before the voyage was ended; and +who could tell what might happen to me; for when I looked up at the high, giddy +masts, and thought how often I must be going up and down them, I thought sure +enough that some luckless day or other, I would certainly fall overboard and be +drowned. And then, I thought of lying down at the bottom of the sea, stark +alone, with the great waves rolling over me, and no one in the wide world +knowing that I was there. And I thought how much better and sweeter it must be, +to be buried under the pleasant hedge that bounded the sunny south side of our +village grave-yard, where every Sunday I had used to walk after church in the +afternoon; and I almost wished I was there now; yes, dead and buried in that +churchyard. All the time my eyes were filled with tears, and I kept holding my +breath, to choke down the sobs, for indeed I could not help feeling as I did, +and no doubt any boy in the world would have felt just as I did then. +</p> + +<p> +As the steamer carried us further and further down the bay, and we passed ships +lying at anchor, with men gazing at us and waving their hats; and small boats +with ladies in them waving their handkerchiefs; and passed the green shore of +Staten Island, and caught sight of so many beautiful cottages all overrun with +vines, and planted on the beautiful fresh mossy hill-sides; oh! then I would +have given any thing if instead of sailing <i>out of</i> the bay, we were only +coming <i>into</i> it; if we had crossed the ocean and returned, gone over and +come back; and my heart leaped up in me like something alive when I thought of +really entering that bay at the end of the voyage. But that was so far distant, +that it seemed it could never be. No, never, never more would I see New York +again. +</p> + +<p> +And what shocked me more than any thing else, was to hear some of the sailors, +while they were at work coiling away the hawsers, talking about the +boarding-houses they were going to, when they came back; and how that some +friends of theirs had promised to be on the wharf when the ship returned, to +take them and their chests right up to Franklin-square where they lived; and +how that they would have a good dinner ready, and plenty of cigars and spirits +out on the balcony. I say this kind of talking shocked me, for they did not +seem to consider, as I did, that before any thing like that could happen, we +must cross the great Atlantic Ocean, cross over from America to Europe and back +again, many thousand miles of foaming ocean. +</p> + +<p> +At that time I did not know what to make of these sailors; but this much I +thought, that when they were boys, they could never have gone to the Sunday +School; for they swore so, it made my ears tingle, and used words that I never +could hear without a dreadful loathing. +</p> + +<p> +And are these the men, I thought to myself, that I must live with so long? +these the men I am to eat with, and sleep with all the time? And besides, I now +began to see, that they were not going to be very kind to me; but I will tell +all about that when the proper time comes. +</p> + +<p> +Now you must not think, that because all these things were passing through my +mind, that I had nothing to do but sit still and think; no, no, I was hard at +work: for as long as the steamer had hold of us, we were very busy coiling away +ropes and cables, and putting the decks in order; which were littered all over +with odds and ends of things that had to be put away. +</p> + +<p> +At last we got as far as the Narrows, which every body knows is the entrance to +New York Harbor from sea; and it may well be called the Narrows, for when you +go in or out, it seems like going in or out of a doorway; and when you go out +of these Narrows on a long voyage like this of mine, it seems like going out +into the broad highway, where not a soul is to be seen. For far away and away, +stretches the great Atlantic Ocean; and all you can see beyond it where the sky +comes down to the water. It looks lonely and desolate enough, and I could +hardly believe, as I gazed around me, that there could be any land beyond, or +any place like Europe or England or Liverpool in the great wide world. It +seemed too strange, and wonderful, and altogether incredible, that there could +really be cities and towns and villages and green fields and hedges and +farm-yards and orchards, away over that wide blank of sea, and away beyond the +place where the sky came down to the water. And to think of steering right out +among those waves, and leaving the bright land behind, and the dark night +coming on, too, seemed wild and foolhardy; and I looked with a sort of fear at +the sailors standing by me, who could be so thoughtless at such a time. But +then I remembered, how many times my own father had said he had crossed the +ocean; and I had never dreamed of such a thing as doubting him; for I always +thought him a marvelous being, infinitely purer and greater than I was, who +could not by any possibility do wrong, or say an untruth. Yet now, how could I +credit it, that he, my own father, whom I so well remembered; had ever sailed +out of these Narrows, and sailed right through the sky and water line, and gone +to England, and France, Liverpool, and Marseilles. It was too wonderful to +believe. +</p> + +<p> +Now, on the right hand side of the Narrows as you go out, the land is quite +high; and on the top of a fine cliff is a great castle or fort, all in ruins, +and with the trees growing round it. It was built by Governor Tompkins in the +time of the last war with England, but was never used, I believe, and so they +left it to decay. I had visited the place once when we lived in New York, as +long ago almost as I could remember, with my father, and an uncle of mine, an +old sea-captain, with white hair, who used to sail to a place called Archangel +in Russia, and who used to tell me that he was with Captain Langsdorff, when +Captain Langsdorff crossed over by land from the sea of Okotsk in Asia to St. +Petersburgh, drawn by large dogs in a sled. I mention this of my uncle, because +he was the very first sea-captain I had ever seen, and his white hair and fine +handsome florid face made so strong an impression upon me, that I have never +forgotten him, though I only saw him during this one visit of his to New York, +for he was lost in the White Sea some years after. +</p> + +<p> +But I meant to speak about the fort. It was a beautiful place, as I remembered +it, and very wonderful and romantic, too, as it appeared to me, when I went +there with my uncle. On the side away from the water was a green grove of +trees, very thick and shady; and through this grove, in a sort of twilight you +came to an arch in the wall of the fort, dark as night; and going in, you +groped about in long vaults, twisting and turning on every side, till at last +you caught a peep of green grass and sunlight, and all at once came out in an +open space in the middle of the castle. And there you would see cows quietly +grazing, or ruminating under the shade of young trees, and perhaps a calf +frisking about, and trying to catch its own tail; and sheep clambering among +the mossy ruins, and cropping the little tufts of grass sprouting out of the +sides of the embrasures for cannon. And once I saw a black goat with a long +beard, and crumpled horns, standing with his forefeet lifted high up on the +topmost parapet, and looking to sea, as if he were watching for a ship that was +bringing over his cousin. I can see him even now, and though I have changed +since then, the black goat looks just the same as ever; and so I suppose he +would, if I live to be as old as Methusaleh, and have as great a memory as he +must have had. Yes, the fort was a beautiful, quiet, charming spot. I should +like to build a little cottage in the middle of it, and live there all my life. +It was noon-day when I was there, in the month of June, and there was little +wind to stir the trees, and every thing looked as if it was waiting for +something, and the sky overhead was blue as my mother’s eye, and I was so +glad and happy then. But I must not think of those delightful days, before my +father became a bankrupt, and died, and we removed from the city; for when I +think of those days, something rises up in my throat and almost strangles me. +</p> + +<p> +Now, as we sailed through the Narrows, I caught sight of that beautiful fort on +the cliff, and could not help contrasting my situation now, with what it was +when with my father and uncle I went there so long ago. Then I never thought of +working for my living, and never knew that there were hard hearts in the world; +and knew so little of money, that when I bought a stick of candy, and laid down +a sixpence, I thought the confectioner returned five cents, only that I might +have money to buy something else, and not because the pennies were my change, +and therefore mine by good rights. How different my idea of money now! +</p> + +<p> +Then I was a schoolboy, and thought of going to college in time; and had vague +thoughts of becoming a great orator like Patrick Henry, whose speeches I used +to speak on the stage; but now, I was a poor friendless boy, far away from my +home, and voluntarily in the way of becoming a miserable sailor for life. And +what made it more bitter to me, was to think of how well off were my cousins, +who were happy and rich, and lived at home with my uncles and aunts, with no +thought of going to sea for a living. I tried to think that it was all a dream, +that I was not where I was, not on board of a ship, but that I was at home +again in the city, with my father alive, and my mother bright and happy as she +used to be. But it would not do. I was indeed where I was, and here was the +ship, and there was the fort. So, after casting a last look at some boys who +were standing on the parapet, gazing off to sea, I turned away heavily, and +resolved not to look at the land any more. +</p> + +<p> +About sunset we got fairly “outside,” and well may it so be called; +for I felt thrust out of the world. Then the breeze began to blow, and the +sails were loosed, and hoisted; and after a while, the steamboat left us, and +for the first time I felt the ship roll, a strange feeling enough, as if it +were a great barrel in the water. Shortly after, I observed a swift little +schooner running across our bows, and re-crossing again and again; and while I +was wondering what she could be, she suddenly lowered her sails, and two men +took hold of a little boat on her deck, and launched it overboard as if it had +been a chip. Then I noticed that our pilot, a red-faced man in a rough blue +coat, who to my astonishment had all this time been giving orders instead of +the captain, began to button up his coat to the throat, like a prudent person +about leaving a house at night in a lonely square, to go home; and he left the +giving orders to the chief mate, and stood apart talking with the captain, and +put his hand into his pocket, and gave him some newspapers. +</p> + +<p> +And in a few minutes, when we had stopped our headway, and allowed the little +boat to come alongside, he shook hands with the captain and officers and bade +them good-by, without saying a syllable of farewell to me and the sailors; and +so he went laughing over the side, and got into the boat, and they pulled him +off to the schooner, and then the schooner made sail and glided under our +stern, her men standing up and waving their hats, and cheering; and that was +the last we saw of America. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br/> +HE IS PUT INTO THE LARBOARD WATCH; GETS SEA-SICK; AND RELATES SOME OTHER OF HIS +EXPERIENCES</h2> + +<p> +It was now getting dark, when all at once the sailors were ordered on the +quarter-deck, and of course I went along with them. +</p> + +<p> +What is to come now, thought I; but I soon found out. It seemed we were going +to be divided into watches. The chief mate began by selecting a stout +good-looking sailor for his watch; and then the second mate’s turn came +to choose, and he also chose a stout good-looking sailor. But it was not +me;— no; and <i>I</i> noticed, as they went on choosing, one after the +other in regular rotation, that both of the mates never so much as looked at +me, but kept going round among the rest, peering into their faces, for it was +dusk, and telling them not to hide themselves away so in their jackets. But the +sailors, especially the stout good-looking ones, seemed to make a point of +lounging as much out of the way as possible, and slouching their hats over +their eyes; and although it may only be a fancy of mine, <i>I</i> certainly +thought that they affected a sort of lordly indifference as to whose watch they +were going to be in; and did not think it worth while to look any way anxious +about the matter. And the very men who, a few minutes before, had showed the +most alacrity and promptitude in jumping into the rigging and running aloft at +the word of command, now lounged against the bulwarks and most lazily; as if +they were quite sure, that by this time the officers must know who the best men +were, and they valued themselves well enough to be willing to put the officers +to the trouble of searching them out; for if they were worth having, they were +worth seeking. +</p> + +<p> +At last they were all chosen but me; and it was the chief mate’s next +turn to choose; though there could be little choosing in my case, since +<i>I</i> was a thirteener, and must, whether or no, go over to the next column, +like the odd figure you carry along when you do a sum in addition. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Buttons,” said the chief mate, “I thought I’d +got rid of you. And as it is, Mr. Rigs,” he added, speaking to the second +mate, “I guess you had better take him into your watch;—there, +I’ll let you have him, and then you’ll be one stronger than +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I thank you,” said Mr. Rigs. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better,” said the chief mate—“see, he’s +not a bad looking chap—he’s a little green, to be sure, but you +were so once yourself, you know, Rigs.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I thank you,” said the second mate again. “Take him +yourself—he’s yours by good rights—I don’t want +him.” And so they put me in the chief mate’s division, that is the +larboard watch. +</p> + +<p> +While this scene was going on, I felt shabby enough; there I stood, just like a +silly sheep, over whom two butchers are bargaining. Nothing that had yet +happened so forcibly reminded me of where I was, and what I had come to. I was +very glad when they sent us forward again. +</p> + +<p> +As we were going forward, the second mate called one of the sailors by +name:-“You, Bill?” and Bill answered, “Sir?” just as if +the second mate was a born gentleman. It surprised me not a little, to see a +man in such a shabby, shaggy old jacket addressed so respectfully; but I had +been quite as much surprised when I heard the chief mate call him <i>Mr.</i> +Rigs during the scene on the quarter-deck; as if this <i>Mr. Rigs</i> was a +great merchant living in a marble house in Lafayette Place. But I was not very +long in finding out, that at sea all officers are <i>Misters,</i> and would +take it for an insult if any seaman presumed to omit calling them so. And it is +also one of their rights and privileges to be called <i>sir</i> when +addressed—Yes, <i>sir; No, sir; Ay, ay, sir;</i> and they are as +particular about being sirred as so many knights and baronets; though their +titles are not hereditary, as is the case with the Sir Johns and Sir Joshuas in +England. But so far as the second mate is concerned, his tides are the only +dignities he enjoys; for, upon the whole, he leads a puppyish life indeed. He +is not deemed company at any time for the captain, though the chief mate +occasionally is, at least deck-company, though not in the cabin; and besides +this, the second mate has to breakfast, lunch, dine, and sup off the leavings +of the cabin table, and even the steward, who is accountable to nobody but the +captain, sometimes treats him cavalierly; and he has to run aloft when topsails +are reefed; and put his hand a good way down into the tar-bucket; and keep the +key of the boatswain’s locker, and fetch and carry balls of marline and +seizing-stuff for the sailors when at work in the rigging; besides doing many +other things, which a true-born baronet of any spirit would rather die and give +up his title than stand. +</p> + +<p> +Having been divided into watches we were sent to supper; but I could not eat +any thing except a little biscuit, though I should have liked to have some good +tea; but as I had no pot to get it in, and was rather nervous about asking the +rough sailors to let me drink out of theirs; I was obliged to go without a sip. +I thought of going to the black cook and begging a tin cup; but he looked so +cross and ugly then, that the sight of him almost frightened the idea out of +me. +</p> + +<p> +When supper was over, for they never talk about going to <i>tea</i> aboard of a +ship, the watch to which I belonged was called on deck; and we were told it was +for us to stand the first night watch, that is, from eight o’clock till +midnight. +</p> + +<p> +I now began to feel unsettled and ill at ease about the stomach, as if matters +were all topsy-turvy there; and felt strange and giddy about the head; and so I +made no doubt that this was the beginning of that dreadful thing, the +sea-sickness. Feeling worse and worse, I told one of the sailors how it was +with me, and begged him to make my excuses very civilly to the chief mate, for +I thought I would go below and spend the night in my bunk. But he only laughed +at me, and said something about my mother not being aware of my being out; +which enraged me not a little, that a man whom I had heard swear so terribly, +should dare to take such a holy name into his mouth. It seemed a sort of +blasphemy, and it seemed like dragging out the best and most cherished secrets +of my soul, for at that time the name of mother was the center of all my +heart’s finest feelings, which ere that, I had learned to keep secret, +deep down in my being. +</p> + +<p> +But I did not outwardly resent the sailor’s words, for that would have +only made the matter worse. +</p> + +<p> +Now this man was a Greenlander by birth, with a very white skin where the sun +had not burnt it, and handsome blue eyes placed wide apart in his head, and a +broad good-humored face, and plenty of curly flaxen hair. He was not very tall, +but exceedingly stout-built, though active; and his back was as broad as a +shield, and it was a great way between his shoulders. He seemed to be a sort of +lady’s sailor, for in his broken English he was always talking about the +nice ladies of his acquaintance in Stockholm and Copenhagen and a place he +called the Hook, which at first I fancied must be the place where lived the +hook-nosed men that caught fowling-pieces and every other article that came +along. He was dressed very tastefully, too, as if he knew he was a good-looking +fellow. He had on a new blue woolen Havre frock, with a new silk handkerchief +round his neck, passed through one of the vertebral bones of a shark, highly +polished and carved. His trowsers were of clear white duck, and he sported a +handsome pair of pumps, and a tarpaulin hat bright as a looking-glass, with a +long black ribbon streaming behind, and getting entangled every now and then in +the rigging; and he had gold anchors in his ears, and a silver ring on one of +his fingers, which was very much worn and bent from pulling ropes and other +work on board ship. I thought he might better have left his jewelry at home. +</p> + +<p> +It was a long time before I could believe that this man was really from +Greenland, though he looked strange enough to me, then, to have come from the +moon; and he was full of stories about that distant country; how they passed +the winters there; and how bitter cold it was; and how he used to go to bed and +sleep twelve hours, and get up again and run about, and go to bed again, and +get up again—there was no telling how many times, and all in one night; +for in the winter time in his country, he said, the nights were so many weeks +long, that a Greenland baby was sometimes three months old, before it could +properly be said to be a day old. +</p> + +<p> +I had seen mention made of such things before, in books of voyages; but that +was only reading about them, just as you read the Arabian Nights, which no one +ever believes; for somehow, when I read about these wonderful countries, I +never used really to believe what I read, but only thought it very strange, and +a good deal too strange to be altogether true; though I never thought the men +who wrote the book meant to tell lies. But I don’t know exactly how to +explain what I mean; but this much I will say, that I never believed in +Greenland till I saw this Greenlander. And at first, hearing him talk about +Greenland, only made me still more incredulous. For what business had a man +from Greenland to be in my company? Why was he not at home among the icebergs, +and how could he stand a warm summer’s sun, and not be melted away? +Besides, instead of icicles, there were ear-rings hanging from his ears; and he +did not wear bear-skins, and keep his hands in a huge muff; things, which I +could not help connecting with Greenland and all Greenlanders. +</p> + +<p> +But I was telling about my being sea-sick and wanting to retire for the night. +This Greenlander seeing I was ill, volunteered to turn doctor and cure me; so +going down into the forecastle, he came back with a brown jug, like a molasses +jug, and a little tin cannikin, and as soon as the brown jug got near my nose, +I needed no telling what was in it, for it smelt like a still-house, and sure +enough proved to be full of Jamaica spirits. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Buttons,” said he, “one little dose of this will be +better for you than a whole night’s sleep; there, take that now, and then +eat seven or eight biscuits, and you’ll feel as strong as the +mainmast.” +</p> + +<p> +But I felt very little like doing as I was bid, for I had some scruples about +drinking spirits; and to tell the plain truth, for I am not ashamed of it, I +was a member of a society in the village where my mother lived, called the +Juvenile Total Abstinence Association, of which my friend, Tom Legare, was +president, secretary, and treasurer, and kept the funds in a little purse that +his cousin knit for him. There was three and sixpence on hand, I believe, the +last time he brought in his accounts, on a May day, when we had a meeting in a +grove on the river-bank. Tom was a very honest treasurer, and never spent the +Society’s money for peanuts; and besides all, was a fine, generous boy, +whom I much loved. But I must not talk about Tom now. +</p> + +<p> +When the Greenlander came to me with his jug of medicine, I thanked him as well +as I could; for just then I was leaning with my mouth over the side, feeling +ready to die; but I managed to tell him I was under a solemn obligation never +to drink spirits upon any consideration whatever; though, as I had a sort of +presentiment that the spirits would now, for once in my life, do me good, I +began to feel sorry, that when I signed the pledge of abstinence, I had not +taken care to insert a little clause, allowing me to drink spirits in case of +sea-sickness. And I would advise temperance people to attend to this matter in +future; and then if they come to go to sea, there will be no need of breaking +their pledges, which I am truly sorry to say was the case with me. And a hard +thing it was, too, thus to break a vow before unbroken; especially as the +Jamaica tasted any thing but agreeable, and indeed burnt my mouth so, that I +did not relish my meals for some time after. Even when I had become quite well +and strong again, I wondered how the sailors could really like such stuff; but +many of them had a jug of it, besides the Greenlander, which they brought along +to sea with them, <i>to taper off with,</i> as they called it. But this +tapering off did not last very long, for the Jamaica was all gone on the second +day, and the jugs were tossed overboard. I wonder where they are now? +</p> + +<p> +But to tell the truth, I found, in spite of its sharp taste, the spirits I +drank was just the thing I needed; but I suppose, if I could have had a cup of +nice hot coffee, it would have done quite as well, and perhaps much better. But +that was not to be had at that time of night, or, indeed, at any other time; +for the thing they called <i>coffee,</i> which was given to us every morning at +breakfast, was the most curious tasting drink I ever drank, and tasted as +little like coffee, as it did like lemonade; though, to be sure, it was +generally as cold as lemonade, and I used to think the cook had an icehouse, +and dropt ice into his coffee. But what was more curious still, was the +different quality and taste of it on different mornings. Sometimes it tasted +fishy, as if it was a decoction of Dutch herrings; and then it would taste very +salty, as if some <i>old horse,</i> or sea-beef, had been boiled in it; and +then again it would taste a sort of cheesy, as if the captain had sent his +cheese-parings forward to make our coffee of; and yet another time it would +have such a very bad flavor, that I was almost ready to think some old +stocking-heels had been boiled in it. What under heaven it was made of, that it +had so many different bad flavors, always remained a mystery; for when at work +at his vocation, our old cook used to keep himself close shut-up in his +caboose, a little cook-house, and never told any of his secrets. +</p> + +<p> +Though a very serious character, as I shall hereafter show, he was for all +that, and perhaps for that identical reason, a very suspicious looking sort of +a cook, that I don’t believe would ever succeed in getting the cooking at +Delmonico’s in New York. It was well for him that he was a black cook, +for I have no doubt his color kept us from seeing his dirty face! I never saw +him wash but once, and that was at one of his own soup pots one dark night when +he thought no one saw him. What induced him to be washing his face then, I +never could find out; but I suppose he must have suddenly waked up, after +dreaming about some real estate on his cheeks. As for his coffee, +notwithstanding the disagreeableness of its flavor, I always used to have a +strange curiosity every morning, to see what new taste it was going to have; +and though, sure enough, I never missed making a new discovery, and adding +another taste to my palate, I never found that there was any change in the +badness of the beverage, which always seemed the same in that respect as +before. +</p> + +<p> +It may well be believed, then, that now when I was seasick, a cup of such +coffee as our old cook made would have done me no good, if indeed it would not +have come near making an end of me. And bad as it was, and since it was not to +be had at that time of night, as I said before, I think I was excusable in +taking something else in place of it, as I did; and under the circumstances, it +would be unhandsome of them, if my fellow-members of the Temperance Society +should reproach me for breaking my bond, which I would not have done except in +case of necessity. But the evil effect of breaking one’s bond upon any +occasion whatever, was witnessed in the present case; for it insidiously opened +the way to subsequent breaches of it, which though very slight, yet carried no +apology with them. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br/> +THE SAILORS BECOMING A LITTLE SOCIAL, REDBURN CONVERSES WITH THEM</h2> + +<p> +The latter part of this first long watch that we stood was very pleasant, so +far as the weather was concerned. From being rather cloudy, it became a soft +moonlight; and the stars peeped out, plain enough to count one by one; and +there was a fine steady breeze; and it was not very cold; and we were going +through the water almost as smooth as a sled sliding down hill. And what was +still better, the wind held so steady, that there was little running aloft, +little pulling ropes, and scarcely any thing disagreeable of that kind. +</p> + +<p> +The chief mate kept walking up and down the quarter-deck, with a lighted +long-nine cigar in his mouth by way of a torch; and spoke but few words to us +the whole watch. He must have had a good deal of thinking to attend to, which +in truth is the case with most seamen the first night out of port, especially +when they have thrown away their money in foolish dissipation, and got very +sick into the bargain. For when ashore, many of these sea-officers are as wild +and reckless in their way, as the sailors they command. +</p> + +<p> +While I stood watching the red cigar-end promenading up and down, the mate +suddenly stopped and gave an order, and the men sprang to obey it. It was not +much, only something about hoisting one of the sails a little higher up on the +mast. The men took hold of the rope, and began pulling upon it; the foremost +man of all setting up a song with no words to it, only a strange musical rise +and fall of notes. In the dark night, and far out upon the lonely sea, it +sounded wild enough, and made me feel as I had sometimes felt, when in a +twilight room a cousin of mine, with black eyes, used to play some old German +airs on the piano. I almost looked round for goblins, and felt just a little +bit afraid. But I soon got used to this singing; for the sailors never touched +a rope without it. Sometimes, when no one happened to strike up, and the +pulling, whatever it might be, did not seem to be getting forward very well, +the mate would always say, <i>“Come, men, can’t any of you sing? +Sing now, and raise the dead.”</i> And then some one of them would begin, +and if every man’s arms were as much relieved as mine by the song, and he +could pull as much better as I did, with such a cheering accompaniment, I am +sure the song was well worth the breath expended on it. It is a great thing in +a sailor to know how to sing well, for he gets a great name by it from the +officers, and a good deal of popularity among his shipmates. Some sea-captains, +before shipping a man, always ask him whether he can sing out at a rope. +</p> + +<p> +During the greater part of the watch, the sailors sat on the windlass and told +long stories of their adventures by sea and land, and talked about Gibraltar, +and Canton, and Valparaiso, and Bombay, just as you and I would about Peck Slip +and the Bowery. Every man of them almost was a volume of Voyages and Travels +round the World. And what most struck me was that like books of voyages they +often contradicted each other, and would fall into long and violent disputes +about who was keeping the Foul Anchor tavern in Portsmouth at such a time; or +whether the King of Canton lived or did not live in Persia; or whether the +bar-maid of a particular house in Hamburg had black eyes or blue eyes; with +many other mooted points of that sort. +</p> + +<p> +At last one of them went below and brought up a box of cigars from his chest, +for some sailors always provide little delicacies of that kind, to break off +the first shock of the salt water after laying idle ashore; and also by way of +<i>tapering off,</i> as I mentioned a little while ago. But I wondered that +they never carried any pies and tarts to sea with them, instead of spirits and +cigars. +</p> + +<p> +Ned, for that was the man’s name, split open the box with a blow of his +fist, and then handed it round along the windlass, just like a waiter at a +party, every one helping himself. But I was a member of an Anti-Smoking Society +that had been organized in our village by the Principal of the Sunday School +there, in conjunction with the Temperance Association. So I did not smoke any +then, though I did afterward upon the voyage, I am sorry to say. +Notwithstanding I declined; with a good deal of unnecessary swearing, Ned +assured me that the cigars were real genuine Havannas; for he had been in +Havanna, he said, and had them made there under his own eye. According to his +account, he was very particular about his cigars and other things, and never +made any importations, for they were unsafe; but always made a voyage himself +direct to the place where any foreign thing was to be had that he wanted. He +went to Havre for his woolen shirts, to Panama for his hats, to China for his +silk handkerchiefs, and direct to Calcutta for his cheroots; and as a great +joker in the watch used to say, no doubt he would at last have occasion to go +to Russia for his halter; the wit of which saying was presumed to be in the +fact, that the Russian hemp is the best; though that is not wit which needs +explaining. +</p> + +<p> +By dint of the spirits which, besides stimulating my fainting strength, united +with the cool air of the sea to give me an appetite for our hard biscuit; and +also by dint of walking briskly up and down the deck before the windlass, I had +now recovered in good part from my sickness, and finding the sailors all very +pleasant and sociable, at least among themselves, and seated smoking together +like old cronies, and nothing on earth to do but sit the watch out, I began to +think that they were a pretty good set of fellows after all, barring their +swearing and another ugly way of talking they had; and I thought I had +misconceived their true characters; for at the outset I had deemed them such a +parcel of wicked hard-hearted rascals that it would be a severe affliction to +associate with them. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, I now began to look on them with a sort of incipient love; but more with +an eye of pity and compassion, as men of naturally gentle and kind +dispositions, whom only hardships, and neglect, and ill-usage had made outcasts +from good society; and not as villains who loved wickedness for the sake of it, +and would persist in wickedness, even in Paradise, if they ever got there. And +I called to mind a sermon I had once heard in a church in behalf of sailors, +when the preacher called them strayed lambs from the fold, and compared them to +poor lost children, babes in the wood, orphans without fathers or mothers. +</p> + +<p> +And I remembered reading in a magazine, called the Sailors’ Magazine, +with a sea-blue cover, and a ship painted on the back, about pious seamen who +never swore, and paid over all their wages to the poor heathen in India; and +how that when they were too old to go to sea, these pious old sailors found a +delightful home for life in the Hospital, where they had nothing to do, but +prepare themselves for their latter end. And I wondered whether there were any +such good sailors among my ship-mates; and observing that one of them laid on +deck apart from the rest, I thought to be sure he must be one of them: so I did +not disturb his devotions: but I was afterward shocked at discovering that he +was only fast asleep, with one of the brown jugs by his side. +</p> + +<p> +I forgot to mention by the way, that every once in a while, the men went into +one corner, where the chief mate could not see them, to take a “swig at +the halyards,” as they called it; and this swigging at the halyards it +was, that enabled them “to taper off” handsomely, and no doubt it +was this, too, that had something to do with making them so pleasant and +sociable that night, for they were seldom so pleasant and sociable afterward, +and never treated me so kindly as they did then. Yet this might have been owing +to my being something of a stranger to them, then; and our being just out of +port. But that very night they turned about, and taught me a bitter lesson; but +all in good time. +</p> + +<p> +I have said, that seeing how agreeable they were getting, and how friendly +their manner was, I began to feel a sort of compassion for them, grounded on +their sad conditions as amiable outcasts; and feeling so warm an interest in +them, and being full of pity, and being truly desirous of benefiting them to +the best of my poor powers, for I knew they were but poor indeed, I made bold +to ask one of them, whether he was ever in the habit of going to church, when +he was ashore, or dropping in at the Floating Chapel I had seen lying off the +dock in the East River at New York; and whether he would think it too much of a +liberty, if I asked him, if he had any good books in his chest. He stared a +little at first, but marking what good language I used, seeing my civil bearing +toward him, he seemed for a moment to be filled with a certain involuntary +respect for me, and answered, that he had been to church once, some ten or +twelve years before, in London, and on a week-day had helped to move the +Floating Chapel round the Battery, from the North River; and that was the only +time he had seen it. For his books, he said he did not know what I meant by +good books; but if I wanted the Newgate Calendar, and Pirate’s Own, he +could lend them to me. +</p> + +<p> +When I heard this poor sailor talk in this manner, showing so plainly his +ignorance and absence of proper views of religion, I pitied him more and more, +and contrasting my own situation with his, I was grateful that I was different +from him; and I thought how pleasant it was, to feel wiser and better than he +could feel; though I was willing to confess to myself, that it was not +altogether my own good endeavors, so much as my education, which I had received +from others, that had made me the upright and sensible boy I at that time +thought myself to be. And it was now, that I began to feel a good degree of +complacency and satisfaction in surveying my own character; for, before this, I +had previously associated with persons of a very discreet life, so that there +was little opportunity to magnify myself, by comparing myself with my +neighbors. +</p> + +<p> +Thinking that my superiority to him in a moral way might sit uneasily upon this +sailor, I thought it would soften the matter down by giving him a chance to +show his own superiority to me, in a minor thing; for I was far from being vain +and conceited. +</p> + +<p> +Having observed that at certain intervals a little bell was rung on the +quarter-deck by the man at the wheel; and that as soon as it was heard, some +one of the sailors forward struck a large bell which hung on the forecastle; +and having observed that how many times soever the man astern rang his bell, +the man forward struck his—tit for tat,—I inquired of this Floating +Chapel sailor, what all this ringing meant; and whether, as the big bell hung +right over the scuttle that went down to the place where the watch below were +sleeping, such a ringing every little while would not tend to disturb them and +beget unpleasant dreams; and in asking these questions I was particular to +address him in a civil and condescending way, so as to show him very plainly +that I did not deem myself one whit better than he was, that is, taking all +things together, and not going into particulars. But to my great surprise and +mortification, he in the rudest land of manner laughed aloud in my face, and +called me a “Jimmy Dux,” though that was not my real name, and he +must have known it; and also the “son of a farmer,” though as I +have previously related, my father was a great merchant and French importer in +Broad-street in New York. And then he began to laugh and joke about me, with +the other sailors, till they all got round me, and if I had not felt so +terribly angry, I should certainly have felt very much like a fool. But my +being so angry prevented me from feeling foolish, which is very lucky for +people in a passion. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X.<br/> +HE IS VERY MUCH FRIGHTENED; THE SAILORS ABUSE HIM; AND HE BECOMES MISERABLE AND +FORLORN</h2> + +<p> +While the scene last described was going on, we were all startled by a horrid +groaning noise down in the forecastle; and all at once some one came rushing up +the scuttle in his shirt, clutching something in his hand, and trembling and +shrieking in the most frightful manner, so that I thought one of the sailors +must be murdered below. +</p> + +<p> +But it all passed in a moment; and while we stood aghast at the sight, and +almost before we knew what it was, the shrieking man jumped over the bows into +the sea, and we saw him no more. Then there was a great uproar; the sailors +came running up on deck; and the chief mate ran forward, and learning what had +happened, began to yell out his orders about the sails and yards; and we all +went to pulling and hauling the ropes, till at last the ship lay almost still +on the water. Then they loosed a boat, which kept pulling round the ship for +more than an hour, but they never caught sight of the man. It seemed that he +was one of the sailors who had been brought aboard dead drunk, and tumbled into +his bunk by his landlord; and there he had lain till now. He must have suddenly +waked up, I suppose, raging mad with the delirium tremens, as the chief mate +called it, and finding himself in a strange silent place, and knowing not how +he had got there, he rushed on deck, and so, in a fit of frenzy, put an end to +himself. +</p> + +<p> +This event, happening at the dead of night, had a wonderfully solemn and almost +awful effect upon me. I would have given the whole world, and the sun and moon, +and all the stars in heaven, if they had been mine, had I been safe back at Mr. +Jones’, or still better, in my home on the Hudson River. I thought it an +ill-omened voyage, and railed at the folly which had sent me to sea, sore +against the advice of my best friends, that is to say, my mother and sisters. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! poor Wellingborough, thought I, you will never see your home any more. +And in this melancholy mood I went below, when the watch had expired, which +happened soon after. But to my terror, I found that the suicide had been +occupying the very bunk which I had appropriated to myself, and there was no +other place for me to sleep in. The thought of lying down there now, seemed too +horrible to me, and what made it worse, was the way in which the sailors spoke +of my being frightened. And they took this opportunity to tell me what a hard +and wicked life I had entered upon, and how that such things happened +frequently at sea, and they were used to it. But I did not believe this; for +when the suicide came rushing and shrieking up the scuttle, they looked as +frightened as I did; and besides that, and what makes their being frightened +still plainer, is the fact, that if they had had any presence of mind, they +could have prevented his plunging overboard, since he brushed right by them. +However, they lay in their bunks smoking, and kept talking on some time in this +strain, and advising me as soon as ever I got home to pin my ears back, so as +not to hold the wind, and sail straight away into the interior of the country, +and never stop until deep in the bush, far off from the least running brook, +never mind how shallow, and out of sight of even the smallest puddle of +rainwater. +</p> + +<p> +This kind of talking brought the tears into my eyes, for it was so true and +real, and the sailors who spoke it seemed so false-hearted and insincere; but +for all that, in spite of the sickness at my heart, it made me mad, and stung +me to the quick, that they should speak of me as a poor trembling coward, who +could never be brought to endure the hardships of a sailor’s life; for I +felt myself trembling, and knew that I was but a coward then, well enough, +without their telling me of it. And they did not say I was cowardly, because +they perceived it in me, but because they merely supposed I must be, judging, +no doubt, from their own secret thoughts about themselves; for I felt sure that +the suicide frightened them very badly. And at last, being provoked to +desperation by their taunts, I told them so to their faces; but I might better +have kept silent; for they now all united to abuse me. They asked me what +business I, a boy like me, had to go to sea, and take the bread out of the +mouth of honest sailors, and fill a good seaman’s place; and asked me +whether I ever dreamed of becoming a captain, since I was a gentleman with +white hands; and if I ever <i>should</i> be, they would like nothing better +than to ship aboard my vessel and stir up a mutiny. And one of them, whose name +was Jackson, of whom I shall have a good deal more to say by-and-by, said, I +had better steer clear of him ever after, for if ever I crossed his path, or +got into his way, he would be the death of me, and if ever I stumbled about in +the rigging near <i>him,</i> he would make nothing of pitching me overboard; +and that he swore too, with an oath. At first, all this nearly stunned me, it +was so unforeseen; and then I could not believe that they meant what they said, +or that they could be so cruel and black-hearted. But how could I help seeing, +that the men who could thus talk to a poor, friendless boy, on the very first +night of his voyage to sea, must be capable of almost any enormity. I loathed, +detested, and hated them with all that was left of my bursting heart and soul, +and I thought myself the most forlorn and miserable wretch that ever breathed. +May I never be a man, thought I, if to be a boy is to be such a wretch. And I +wailed and wept, and my heart cracked within me, but all the time I defied them +through my teeth, and dared them to do their worst. +</p> + +<p> +At last they ceased talking and fell fast asleep, leaving me awake, seated on a +chest with my face bent over my knees between my hands. And there I sat, till +at length the dull beating against the ship’s bows, and the silence +around soothed me down, and I fell asleep as I sat. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br/> +HE HELPS WASH THE DECKS, AND THEN GOES TO BREAKFAST</h2> + +<p> +The next thing I knew, was the loud thumping of a handspike on deck as the +watch was called again. It was now four o’clock in the morning, and when +we got on deck the first signs of day were shining in the east. The men were +very sleepy, and sat down on the windlass without speaking, and some of them +nodded and nodded, till at last they fell off like little boys in church during +a drowsy sermon. At last it was broad day, and an order was given to wash down +the decks. A great tub was dragged into the waist, and then one of the men went +over into the chains, and slipped in behind a band fastened to the shrouds, and +leaning over, began to swing a bucket into the sea by a long rope; and in that +way with much expertness and sleight of hand, he managed to fill the tub in a +very short time. Then the water began to splash about all over the decks, and I +began to think I should surely get my feet wet, and catch my death of cold. So +I went to the chief mate, and told him I thought I would just step below, till +this miserable wetting was over; for I did not have any water-proof boots, and +an aunt of mine had died of consumption. But he only roared out for me to get a +broom and go to scrubbing, or he would prove a worse consumption to me than +ever got hold of my poor aunt. So I scrubbed away fore and aft, till my back +was almost broke, for the brooms had uncommon short handles, and we were told +to scrub hard. +</p> + +<p> +At length the scrubbing being over, the mate began heaving buckets of water +about, to wash every thing clean, by way of finishing off. He must have thought +this fine sport, just as captains of fire engines love to point the tube of +their hose; for he kept me running after him with full buckets of water, and +sometimes chased a little chip all over the deck, with a continued flood, till +at last he sent it flying out of a scupper-hole into the sea; when if he had +only given me permission, I could have picked it up in a trice, and dropped it +overboard without saying one word, and without wasting so much water. But he +said there was plenty of water in the ocean, and to spare; which was true +enough, but then I who had to trot after him with the buckets, had no more legs +and arms than I wanted for my own use. +</p> + +<p> +I thought this washing down the decks was the most foolish thing in the world, +and besides that it was the most uncomfortable. It was worse than my +mother’s house-cleanings at home, which I used to abominate so. +</p> + +<p> +At eight o’clock the bell was struck, and we went to breakfast. And now +some of the worst of my troubles began. For not having had any friend to tell +me what I would want at sea, I had not provided myself, as I should have done, +with a good many things that a sailor needs; and for my own part, it had never +entered my mind, that sailors had no table to sit down to, no cloth, or +napkins, or tumblers, and had to provide every thing themselves. But so it was. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing they did was this. Every sailor went to the cook-house with his +tin pot, and got it filled with coffee; but of course, having no pot, there was +no coffee for me. And after that, a sort of little tub called a +“kid,” was passed down into the forecastle, filled with something +they called “burgoo.” This was like mush, made of Indian corn, +meal, and water. With the <i>“kid,” a</i> little tin cannikin was +passed down with molasses. Then the Jackson that I spoke of before, put the kid +between his knees, and began to pour in the molasses, just like an old landlord +mixing punch for a party. He scooped out a little hole in the middle of the +mush, to hold the molasses; so it looked for all the world like a little black +pool in the Dismal Swamp of Virginia. +</p> + +<p> +Then they all formed a circle round the kid; and one after the other, with +great regularity, dipped their spoons into the mush, and after stirring them +round a little in the molasses-pool, they swallowed down their mouthfuls, and +smacked their lips over it, as if it tasted very good; which I have no doubt it +did; but not having any spoon, I wasn’t sure. +</p> + +<p> +I sat some time watching these proceedings, and wondering how polite they were +to each other; for, though there were a great many spoons to only one dish, +they never got entangled. At last, seeing that the mush was getting thinner and +thinner, and that it was getting low water, or rather low molasses in the +little pool, I ran on deck, and after searching about, returned with a bit of +stick; and thinking I had as good a right as any one else to the mush and +molasses, I worked my way into the circle, intending to make one of the party. +So I shoved in my stick, and after twirling it about, was just managing to +carry a little <i>burgoo</i> toward my mouth, which had been for some time +standing ready open to receive it, when one of the sailors perceiving what I +was about, knocked the stick out of my hands, and asked me where I learned my +manners; Was that the way gentlemen eat in my country? Did they eat their +victuals with splinters of wood, and couldn’t that wealthy gentleman my +father afford to buy his gentlemanly son a spoon? +</p> + +<p> +All the rest joined in, and pronounced me an ill-bred, coarse, and unmannerly +youngster, who, if permitted to go on with such behavior as that, would corrupt +the whole crew, and make them no better than swine. +</p> + +<p> +As I felt conscious that a stick was indeed a thing very unsuitable to eat +with, I did not say much to this, though it vexed me enough; but remembering +that I had seen one of the steerage passengers with a pan and spoon in his hand +eating his breakfast on the fore hatch, I now ran on deck again, and to my +great joy succeeded in borrowing his spoon, for he had got through his meal, +and down I came again, though at the eleventh hour, and offered myself once +more as a candidate. +</p> + +<p> +But alas! there was little more of the Dismal Swamp left, and when I reached +over to the opposite end of the kid, I received a rap on the knuckles from a +spoon, and was told that I must help myself from my own side, for that was the +rule. But <i>my</i> side was scraped clean, so I got no <i>burgoo</i> that +morning. +</p> + +<p> +But I made it up by eating some salt beef and biscuit, which I found to be the +invariable accompaniment of every meal; the sailors sitting cross-legged on +their chests in a circle, and breaking the hard biscuit, very sociably, over +each other’s heads, which was very convenient indeed, but gave me the +headache, at least for the first four or five days till I got used to it; and +then I did not care much about it, only it kept my hair full of crumbs; and I +had forgot to bring a fine comb and brush, so I used to shake my hair out to +windward over the bulwarks every evening. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br/> +HE GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF ONE OF HIS SHIPMATES CALLED JACKSON</h2> + +<p> +While we sat eating our beef and biscuit, two of the men got into a dispute, +about who had been sea-faring the longest; when Jackson, who had mixed the +<i>burgoo,</i> called upon them in a loud voice to cease their clamor, for he +would decide the matter for them. Of this sailor, I shall have something more +to say, as I get on with my narrative; so, I will here try to describe him a +little. +</p> + +<p> +Did you ever see a man, with his hair shaved off, and just recovered from the +yellow fever? Well, just such a looking man was this sailor. He was as yellow +as gamboge, had no more whisker on his cheek, than I have on my elbows. His +hair had fallen out, and left him very bald, except in the nape of his neck, +and just behind the ears, where it was stuck over with short little tufts, and +looked like a worn-out shoe-brush. His nose had broken down in the middle, and +he squinted with one eye, and did not look very straight out of the other. He +dressed a good deal like a Bowery boy; for he despised the ordinary sailor-rig; +wearing a pair of great over-all blue trowsers, fastened with suspenders, and +three red woolen shirts, one over the other; for he was subject to the +rheumatism, and was not in good health, he said; and he had a large white wool +hat, with a broad rolling brim. He was a native of New York city, and had a +good deal to say about <i>highlanders,</i> and <i>rowdies,</i> whom he +denounced as only good for the gallows; but I thought he looked a good deal +like a <i>highlander</i> himself. +</p> + +<p> +His name, as I have said, was Jackson; and he told us, he was a near relation +of General Jackson of New Orleans, and swore terribly, if any one ventured to +question what he asserted on that head. In fact he was a great bully, and being +the best seaman on board, and very overbearing every way, all the men were +afraid of him, and durst not contradict him, or cross his path in any thing. +And what made this more wonderful was, that he was the weakest man, bodily, of +the whole crew; and I have no doubt that young and small as I was then, +compared to what I am now, I could have thrown him down. But he had such an +overawing way with him; such a deal of brass and impudence, such an unflinching +face, and withal was such a hideous looking mortal, that Satan himself would +have run from him. And besides all this, it was quite plain, that he was by +nature a marvelously clever, cunning man, though without education; and +understood human nature to a kink, and well knew whom he had to deal with; and +then, one glance of his squinting eye, was as good as a knock-down, for it was +the most deep, subtle, infernal looking eye, that I ever saw lodged in a human +head. I believe, that by good rights it must have belonged to a wolf, or +starved tiger; at any rate, I would defy any oculist, to turn out a glass eye, +half so cold, and snaky, and deadly. It was a horrible thing; and I would give +much to forget that I have ever seen it; for it haunts me to this day. +</p> + +<p> +It was impossible to tell how old this Jackson was; for he had no beard, and no +wrinkles, except small crowsfeet about the eyes. He might have seen thirty, or +perhaps fifty years. But according to his own account, he had been to sea ever +since he was eight years old, when he first went as a cabin-boy in an Indiaman, +and ran away at Calcutta. And according to his own account, too, he had passed +through every kind of dissipation and abandonment in the worst parts of the +world. He had served in Portuguese slavers on the coast of Africa; and with a +diabolical relish used to tell of the <i>middle-passage,</i> where the slaves +were stowed, heel and point, like logs, and the suffocated and dead were +unmanacled, and weeded out from the living every morning, before washing down +the decks; how he had been in a slaving schooner, which being chased by an +English cruiser off Cape Verde, received three shots in her hull, which raked +through and through a whole file of slaves, that were chained. +</p> + +<p> +He would tell of lying in Batavia during a fever, when his ship lost a man +every few days, and how they went reeling ashore with the body, and got still +more intoxicated by way of precaution against the plague. He would talk of +finding a cobra-di-capello, or hooded snake, under his pillow in India, when he +slept ashore there. He would talk of sailors being poisoned at Canton with +drugged <i>“shampoo,”</i> for the sake of their money; and of the +Malay ruffians, who stopped ships in the straits of Caspar, and always saved +the captain for the last, so as to make him point out where the most valuable +goods were stored. +</p> + +<p> +His whole talk was of this land; full of piracies, plagues and poisonings. And +often he narrated many passages in his own individual career, which were almost +incredible, from the consideration that few men could have plunged into such +infamous vices, and clung to them so long, without paying the death-penalty. +</p> + +<p> +But in truth, he carried about with him the traces of these things, and the +mark of a fearful end nigh at hand; like that of King Antiochus of Syria, who +died a worse death, history says, than if he had been stung out of the world by +wasps and hornets. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing was left of this Jackson but the foul lees and dregs of a man; he was +thin as a shadow; nothing but skin and bones; and sometimes used to complain, +that it hurt him to sit on the hard chests. And I sometimes fancied, it was the +consciousness of his miserable, broken-down condition, and the prospect of soon +dying like a dog, in consequence of his sins, that made this poor wretch always +eye me with such malevolence as he did. For I was young and handsome, at least +my mother so thought me, and as soon as I became a little used to the sea, and +shook off my low spirits somewhat, I began to have my old color in my cheeks, +and, spite of misfortune, to appear well and hearty; whereas <i>he</i> was +being consumed by an incurable malady, that was eating up his vitals, and was +more fit for a hospital than a ship. +</p> + +<p> +As I am sometimes by nature inclined to indulge in unauthorized surmisings +about the thoughts going on with regard to me, in the people I meet; especially +if I have reason to think they dislike me; I will not put it down for a +certainty that what I suspected concerning this Jackson relative to his +thoughts of me, was really the truth. But only state my honest opinion, and how +it struck me at the time; and even now, I think I was not wrong. And indeed, +unless it was so, how could I account to myself, for the shudder that would run +through me, when I caught this man gazing at me, as I often did; for he was apt +to be dumb at times, and would sit with his eyes fixed, and his teeth set, like +a man in the moody madness. +</p> + +<p> +I well remember the first time I saw him, and how I was startled at his eye, +which was even then fixed upon me. He was standing at the ship’s helm, +being the first man that got there, when a steersman was called for by the +pilot; for this Jackson was always on the alert for easy duties, and used to +plead his delicate health as the reason for assuming them, as he did; though I +used to think, that for a man in poor health, he was very swift on the legs; at +least when a good place was to be jumped to; though that might only have been a +sort of spasmodic exertion under strong inducements, which every one knows the +greatest invalids will sometimes show. +</p> + +<p> +And though the sailors were always very bitter against any thing like +<i>sogering,</i> as they called it; that is, any thing that savored of a desire +to get rid of downright hard work; yet, I observed that, though this Jackson +was a notorious old <i>soger</i> the whole voyage (I mean, in all things not +perilous to do, from which he was far from hanging back), and in truth was a +great veteran that way, and one who must have passed unhurt through many +campaigns; yet, they never presumed to call him to account in any way; or to +let him so much as think, what they thought of his conduct. But I often heard +them call him many hard names behind his back; and sometimes, too, when, +perhaps, they had just been tenderly inquiring after his health before his +face. They all stood in mortal fear of him; and cringed and fawned about him +like so many spaniels; and used to rub his back, after he was undressed and +lying in his bunk; and used to run up on deck to the cook-house, to warm some +cold coffee for him; and used to fill his pipe, and give him chews of tobacco, +and mend his jackets and trowsers; and used to watch, and tend, and nurse him +every way. And all the time, he would sit scowling on them, and found fault +with what they did; and I noticed, that those who did the most for him, and +cringed the most before him, were the very ones he most abused; while two or +three who held more aloof, he treated with a little consideration. +</p> + +<p> +It is not for me to say, what it was that made a whole ship’s company +submit so to the whims of one poor miserable man like Jackson. I only know that +so it was; but I have no doubt, that if he had had a blue eye in his head, or +had had a different face from what he did have, they would not have stood in +such awe of him. And it astonished me, to see that one of the seamen, a +remarkably robust and good-humored young man from Belfast in Ireland, was a +person of no mark or influence among the crew; but on the contrary was hooted +at, and trampled upon, and made a butt and laughing-stock; and more than all, +was continually being abused and snubbed by Jackson, who seemed to hate him +cordially, because of his great strength and fine person, and particularly +because of his red cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +But then, this Belfast man, although he had shipped for an <i>able-seaman,</i> +was not much of a sailor; and that always lowers a man in the eyes of a +ship’s company; I mean, when he ships for an <i>able-seaman,</i> but is +not able to do the duty of one. For sailors are of three +classes—<i>able-seaman, ordinary-seaman,</i> and <i>boys;</i> and they +receive different wages according to their rank. Generally, a ship’s +company of twelve men will only have five or six able seamen, who if they prove +to understand their duty every way (and that is no small matter either, as I +shall hereafter show, perhaps), are looked up to, and thought much of by the +ordinary-seamen and boys, who reverence their very pea-jackets, and lay up +their sayings in their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +But you must not think from this, that persons called <i>boys</i> aboard +merchant-ships are all youngsters, though to be sure, I myself was called a +<i>boy,</i> and a boy I was. No. In merchant-ships, a <i>boy</i> means a +green-hand, a landsman on his first voyage. And never mind if he is old enough +to be a grandfather, he is still called a <i>boy;</i> and boys’ work is +put upon him. +</p> + +<p> +But I am straying off from what I was going to say about Jackson’s +putting an end to the dispute between the two sailors in the forecastle after +breakfast. After they had been disputing some time about who had been to sea +the longest, Jackson told them to stop talking; and then bade one of them open +his mouth; for, said he, I can tell a sailor’s age just like a +horse’s—by his teeth. So the man laughed, and opened his mouth; and +Jackson made him step out under the scuttle, where the light came down from +deck; and then made him throw his head back, while he looked into it, and +probed a little with his jackknife, like a baboon peering into a junk-bottle. I +trembled for the poor fellow, just as if I had seen him under the hands of a +crazy barber, making signs to cut his throat, and he all the while sitting +stock still, with the lather on, to be shaved. For I watched Jackson’s +eye and saw it snapping, and a sort of going in and out, very quick, as if it +were something like a forked tongue; and somehow, I felt as if he were longing +to kill the man; but at last he grew more composed, and after concluding his +examination, said, that the first man was the oldest sailor, for the ends of +his teeth were the evenest and most worn down; which, he said, arose from +eating so much hard sea-biscuit; and this was the reason he could tell a +sailor’s age like a horse’s. +</p> + +<p> +At this, every body made merry, and looked at each other, as much as to +<i>say—come, boys, let’s laugh;</i> and they did laugh; and +declared it was a rare joke. +</p> + +<p> +This was always the way with them. They made a point of shouting out, whenever +Jackson said any thing with a grin; that being the sign to them that he himself +thought it funny; though I heard many good jokes from others pass off without a +smile; and once Jackson himself (for, to tell the truth, he sometimes had a +comical way with him, that is, when his back did not ache) told a truly funny +story, but with a grave face; when, not knowing how he meant it, whether for a +laugh or otherwise, they all sat still, waiting what to do, and looking +perplexed enough; till at last Jackson roared out upon them for a parcel of +fools and idiots; and told them to their beards, how it was; that he had +purposely put on his grave face, to see whether they would not look grave, too; +even when he was telling something that ought to split their sides. And with +that, he flouted, and jeered at them, and laughed them all to scorn; and broke +out in such a rage, that his lips began to glue together at the corners with a +fine white foam. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to be full of hatred and gall against every thing and every body in +the world; as if all the world was one person, and had done him some dreadful +harm, that was rankling and festering in his heart. Sometimes I thought he was +really crazy; and often felt so frightened at him, that I thought of going to +the captain about it, and telling him Jackson ought to be confined, lest he +should do some terrible thing at last. But upon second thoughts, I always gave +it up; for the captain would only have called me a fool, and sent me forward +again. +</p> + +<p> +But you must not think that all the sailors were alike in abasing themselves +before this man. No: there were three or four who used to stand up sometimes +against him; and when he was absent at the wheel, would plot against him among +the other sailors, and tell them what a shame and ignominy it was, that such a +poor miserable wretch should be such a tyrant over much better men than +himself. And they begged and conjured them as men, to put up with it no longer, +but the very next time, that Jackson presumed to play the dictator, that they +should all withstand him, and let him know his place. Two or three times nearly +all hands agreed to it, with the exception of those who used to slink off +during such discussions; and swore that they would not any more submit to being +ruled by Jackson. But when the time came to make good their oaths, they were +mum again, and let every thing go on the old way; so that those who had put +them up to it, had to bear all the brunt of Jackson’s wrath by +themselves. And though these last would stick up a little at first, and even +mutter something about a fight to Jackson; yet in the end, finding themselves +unbefriended by the rest, they would gradually become silent, and leave the +field to the tyrant, who would then fly out worse than ever, and dare them to +do their worst, and jeer at them for white-livered poltroons, who did not have +a mouthful of heart in them. At such times, there were no bounds to his +contempt; and indeed, all the time he seemed to have even more contempt than +hatred, for every body and every thing. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, I was but a boy; and at any time aboard ship, a boy is expected to +keep quiet, do what he is bid, never presume to interfere, and seldom to talk, +unless spoken to. For merchant sailors have a great idea of their dignity, and +superiority to <i>greenhorns</i> and <i>landsmen,</i> who know nothing about a +ship; and they seem to think, that an <i>able seaman</i> is a great man; at +least a much greater man than a little boy. And the able seamen in the +Highlander had such grand notions about their seamanship, that I almost thought +that able seamen received diplomas, like those given at colleges; and were made +a sort <i>A.M.S,</i> or <i>Masters of Arts.</i> +</p> + +<p> +But though I kept thus quiet, and had very little to say, and well knew that my +best plan was to get along peaceably with every body, and indeed endure a good +deal before showing fight, yet I could not avoid Jackson’s evil eye, nor +escape his bitter enmity. And his being my foe, set many of the rest against +me; or at least they were afraid to speak out for me before Jackson; so that at +last I found myself a sort of Ishmael in the ship, without a single friend or +companion; and I began to feel a hatred growing up in me against the whole +crew—so much so, that I prayed against it, that it might not master my +heart completely, and so make a fiend of me, something like Jackson. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br/> +HE HAS A FINE DAY AT SEA, BEGINS TO LIKE IT; BUT CHANGES HIS MIND</h2> + +<p> +The second day out of port, the decks being washed down and breakfast over, the +watch was called, and the mate set us to work. +</p> + +<p> +It was a very bright day. The sky and water were both of the same deep hue; and +the air felt warm and sunny; so that we threw off our jackets. I could hardly +believe that I was sailing in the same ship I had been in during the night, +when every thing had been so lonely and dim; and I could hardly imagine that +this was the same ocean, now so beautiful and blue, that during part of the +night-watch had rolled along so black and forbidding. +</p> + +<p> +There were little traces of sunny clouds all over the heavens; and little +fleeces of foam all over the sea; and the ship made a strange, musical noise +under her bows, as she glided along, with her sails all still. It seemed a pity +to go to work at such a time; and if we could only have sat in the windlass +again; or if they would have let me go out on the bowsprit, and lay down +between the <i>manropes</i> there, and look over at the fish in the water, and +think of home, I should have been almost happy for a time. +</p> + +<p> +I had now completely got over my sea-sickness, and felt very well; at least in +my body, though my heart was far from feeling right; so that I could now look +around me, and make observations. +</p> + +<p> +And truly, though we were at sea, there was much to behold and wonder at; to +me, who was on my first voyage. What most amazed me was the sight of the great +ocean itself, for we were out of sight of land. All round us, on both sides of +the ship, ahead and astern, nothing was to be seen but +water—water—water; not a single glimpse of green shore, not the +smallest island, or speck of moss any where. Never did I realize till now what +the ocean was: how grand and majestic, how solitary, and boundless, and +beautiful and blue; for that day it gave no tokens of squalls or hurricanes, +such as I had heard my father tell of; nor could I imagine, how any thing that +seemed so playful and placid, could be lashed into rage, and troubled into +rolling avalanches of foam, and great cascades of waves, such as I saw in the +end. +</p> + +<p> +As I looked at it so mild and sunny, I could not help calling to mind my little +brother’s face, when he was sleeping an infant in the cradle. It had just +such a happy, careless, innocent look; and every happy little wave seemed +gamboling about like a thoughtless little kid in a pasture; and seemed to look +up in your face as it passed, as if it wanted to be patted and caressed. They +seemed all live things with hearts in them, that could feel; and I almost felt +grieved, as we sailed in among them, scattering them under our broad bows in +sun-flakes, and riding over them like a great elephant among lambs. But what +seemed perhaps the most strange to me of all, was a certain wonderful rising +and falling of the sea; I do not mean the waves themselves, but a sort of wide +heaving and swelling and sinking all over the ocean. It was something I can not +very well describe; but I know very well what it was, and how it affected me. +It made me almost dizzy to look at it; and yet I could not keep my eyes off it, +it seemed so passing strange and wonderful. +</p> + +<p> +I felt as if in a dream all the time; and when I could shut the ship out, +almost thought I was in some new, fairy world, and expected to hear myself +called to, out of the clear blue air, or from the depths of the deep blue sea. +But I did not have much leisure to indulge in such thoughts; for the men were +now getting some <i>stun’-sails</i> ready to hoist aloft, as the wind was +getting fairer and fairer for us; and these stun’-sails are light canvas +which are spread at such times, away out beyond the ends of the yards, where +they overhang the wide water, like the wings of a great bird. +</p> + +<p> +For my own part, I could do but little to help the rest, not knowing the name +of any thing, or the proper way to go about aught. Besides, I felt very dreamy, +as I said before; and did not exactly know where, or what I was; every thing +was so strange and new. +</p> + +<p> +While the stun’-sails were lying all tumbled upon the deck, and the +sailors were fastening them to the booms, getting them ready to hoist, the mate +ordered me to do a great many simple things, none of which could I comprehend, +owing to the queer words he used; and then, seeing me stand quite perplexed and +confounded, he would roar out at me, and call me all manner of names, and the +sailors would laugh and wink to each other, but durst not go farther than that, +for fear of the mate, who in his own presence would not let any body laugh at +me but himself. +</p> + +<p> +However, I tried to wake up as much as I could, and keep from dreaming with my +eyes open; and being, at bottom, a smart, apt lad, at last I managed to learn a +thing or two, so that I did not appear so much like a fool as at first. +</p> + +<p> +People who have never gone to sea for the first time as sailors, can not +imagine how puzzling and confounding it is. It must be like going into a +barbarous country, where they speak a strange dialect, and dress in strange +clothes, and live in strange houses. For sailors have their own names, even for +things that are familiar ashore; and if you call a thing by its shore name, you +are laughed at for an ignoramus and a landlubber. This first day I speak of, +the mate having ordered me to draw some water, I asked him where I was to get +the pail; when I thought I had committed some dreadful crime; for he flew into +a great passion, and said they never had any <i>pails</i> at sea, and then I +learned that they were always called <i>buckets.</i> And once I was talking +about sticking a little wooden peg into a bucket to stop a leak, when he flew +out again, and said there were no <i>pegs</i> at sea, only <i>plugs.</i> And +just so it was with every thing else. +</p> + +<p> +But besides all this, there is such an infinite number of totally new names of +new things to learn, that at first it seemed impossible for me to master them +all. If you have ever seen a ship, you must have remarked what a thicket of +ropes there are; and how they all seemed mixed and entangled together like a +great skein of yarn. Now the very smallest of these ropes has its own proper +name, and many of them are very lengthy, like the names of young royal princes, +such as the <i>starboard-main-top-gallant-bow-line,</i> or the +<i>larboard-fore-top-sail-clue-line.</i> +</p> + +<p> +I think it would not be a bad plan to have a grand new naming of a ship’s +ropes, as I have read, they once had a simplifying of the classes of plants in +Botany. It is really wonderful how many names there are in the world. There is +no counting the names, that surgeons and anatomists give to the various parts +of the human body; which, indeed, is something like a ship; its bones being the +stiff standing-rigging, and the sinews the small running ropes, that manage all +the motions. +</p> + +<p> +I wonder whether mankind could not get along without all these names, which +keep increasing every day, and hour, and moment; till at last the very air will +be full of them; and even in a great plain, men will be breathing each +other’s breath, owing to the vast multitude of words they use, that +consume all the air, just as lamp-burners do gas. But people seem to have a +great love for names; for to know a great many names, seems to look like +knowing a good many things; though I should not be surprised, if there were a +great many more names than things in the world. But I must quit this rambling, +and return to my story. +</p> + +<p> +At last we hoisted the stun’-sails up to the top-sail yards, and as soon +as the vessel felt them, she gave a sort of bound like a horse, and the breeze +blowing more and more, she went plunging along, shaking off the foam from her +bows, like foam from a bridle-bit. Every mast and timber seemed to have a pulse +in it that was beating with life and joy; and I felt a wild exulting in my own +heart, and felt as if I would be glad to bound along so round the world. +</p> + +<p> +Then was I first conscious of a wonderful thing in me, that responded to all +the wild commotion of the outer world; and went reeling on and on with the +planets in their orbits, and was lost in one delirious throb at the center of +the All. A wild bubbling and bursting was at my heart, as if a hidden spring +had just gushed out there; and my blood ran tingling along my frame, like +mountain brooks in spring freshets. +</p> + +<p> +Yes! yes! give me this glorious ocean life, this salt-sea life, this briny, +foamy life, when the sea neighs and snorts, and you breathe the very breath +that the great whales respire! Let me roll around the globe, let me rock upon +the sea; let me race and pant out my life, with an eternal breeze astern, and +an endless sea before! +</p> + +<p> +But how soon these raptures abated, when after a brief idle interval, we were +again set to work, and I had a vile commission to clean out the chicken coops, +and make up the beds of the pigs in the long-boat. +</p> + +<p> +Miserable dog’s life is this of the sea! commanded like a slave, and set +to work like an ass! vulgar and brutal men lording it over me, as if I were an +African in Alabama. Yes, yes, blow on, ye breezes, and make a speedy end to +this abominable voyage! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br/> +HE CONTEMPLATES MAKING A SOCIAL CALL ON THE CAPTAIN IN HIS CABIN</h2> + +<p> +What reminded me most forcibly of my ignominious condition, was the widely +altered manner of the captain toward me. +</p> + +<p> +I had thought him a fine, funny gentleman, full of mirth and good humor, and +good will to seamen, and one who could not fail to appreciate the difference +between me and the rude sailors among whom I was thrown. Indeed, I had made no +doubt that he would in some special manner take me under his protection, and +prove a kind friend and benefactor to me; as I had heard that some sea-captains +are fathers to their crew; and so they are; but such fathers as Solomon’s +precepts tend to make—severe and chastising fathers, fathers whose sense +of duty overcomes the sense of love, and who every day, in some sort, play the +part of Brutus, who ordered his son away to execution, as I have read in our +old family Plutarch. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, I thought that Captain Riga, for Riga was his name, would be attentive and +considerate to me, and strive to cheer me up, and comfort me in my +lonesomeness. I did not even deem it at all impossible that he would invite me +down into the cabin of a pleasant night, to ask me questions concerning my +parents, and prospects in life; besides obtaining from me some anecdotes +touching my great-uncle, the illustrious senator; or give me a slate and +pencil, and teach me problems in navigation; or perhaps engage me at a game of +chess. I even thought he might invite me to dinner on a sunny Sunday, and help +me plentifully to the nice cabin fare, as knowing how distasteful the salt beef +and pork, and hard biscuit of the forecastle must at first be to a boy like me, +who had always lived ashore, and at home. +</p> + +<p> +And I could not help regarding him with peculiar emotions, almost of tenderness +and love, as the last visible link in the chain of associations which bound me +to my home. For, while yet in port, I had seen him and Mr. Jones, my +brother’s friend, standing together and conversing; so that from the +captain to my brother there was but one intermediate step; and my brother and +mother and sisters were one. +</p> + +<p> +And this reminds me how often I used to pass by the places on deck, where I +remembered Mr. Jones had stood when we first visited the ship lying at the +wharf; and how I tried to convince myself that it was indeed true, that he had +stood there, though now the ship was so far away on the wide Atlantic Ocean, +and he perhaps was walking down Wall-street, or sitting reading the newspaper +in his counting room, while poor I was so differently employed. +</p> + +<p> +When two or three days had passed without the captain’s speaking to me in +any way, or sending word into the forecastle that he wished me to drop into the +cabin to pay my respects. I began to think whether I should not make the first +advances, and whether indeed he did not expect it of me, since I was but a boy, +and he a man; and perhaps that might have been the reason why he had not spoken +to me yet, deeming it more proper and respectful for me to address him first. I +thought he might be offended, too, especially if he were a proud man, with +tender feelings. So one evening, a little before sundown, in the second +dog-watch, when there was no more work to be done, I concluded to call and see +him. +</p> + +<p> +After drawing a bucket of water, and having a good washing, to get off some of +the chicken-coop stains, I went down into the forecastle to dress myself as +neatly as I could. I put on a white shirt in place of my red one, and got into +a pair of cloth trowsers instead of my duck ones, and put on my new pumps, and +then carefully brushing my shooting-jacket, I put that on over all, so that +upon the whole, I made quite a genteel figure, at least for a forecastle, +though I would not have looked so well in a drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +When the sailors saw me thus employed, they did not know what to make of it, +and wanted to know whether I was dressing to go ashore; I told them no, for we +were then out of sight of mind; but that I was going to pay my respects to the +captain. Upon which they all laughed and shouted, as if I were a simpleton; +though there seemed nothing so very simple in going to make an evening call +upon a friend. When some of them tried to dissuade me, saying I was green and +raw; but Jackson, who sat looking on, cried out, with a hideous grin, +“Let him go, let him go, men—he’s a nice boy. Let him go; the +captain has some nuts and raisins for him.” And so he was going on, when +one of his violent fits of coughing seized him, and he almost choked. +</p> + +<p> +As I was about leaving the forecastle, I happened to look at my hands, and +seeing them stained all over of a deep yellow, for that morning the mate had +set me to tarring some strips of canvas for the rigging I thought it would +never do to present myself before a gentleman that way; so for want of lads, I +slipped on a pair of woolen mittens, which my mother had knit for me to carry +to sea. As I was putting them on, Jackson asked me whether he shouldn’t +call a carriage; and another bade me not forget to present his best respects to +the skipper. I left them all tittering, and coming on deck was passing the +cook-house, when the old cook called after me, saying I had forgot my cane. +</p> + +<p> +But I did not heed their impudence, and was walking straight toward the +cabin-door on the quarter-deck, when the chief mate met me. I touched my hat, +and was passing him, when, after staring at me till I thought his eyes would +burst out, he all at once caught me by the collar, and with a voice of thunder, +wanted to know what I meant by playing such tricks aboard a ship that he was +mate of? I told him to let go of me, or I would complain to my friend the +captain, whom I intended to visit that evening. Upon this he gave me such a +whirl round, that I thought the Gulf Stream was in my head; and then shoved me +forward, roaring out I know not what. Meanwhile the sailors were all standing +round the windlass looking aft, mightily tickled. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing I could not effect my object that night, I thought it best to defer it +for the present; and returning among the sailors, Jackson asked me how I had +found the captain, and whether the next time I went, I would not take a friend +along and introduce him. +</p> + +<p> +The upshot of this business was, that before I went to sleep that night, I felt +well satisfied that it was not customary for sailors to call on the captain in +the cabin; and I began to have an inkling of the fact, that I had acted like a +fool; but it all arose from my ignorance of sea usages. +</p> + +<p> +And here I may as well state, that I never saw the inside of the cabin during +the whole interval that elapsed from our sailing till our return to New York; +though I often used to get a peep at it through a little pane of glass, set in +the house on deck, just before the helm, where a watch was kept hanging for the +helmsman to strike the half hours by, with his little bell in the binnacle, +where the compass was. And it used to be the great amusement of the sailors to +look in through the pane of glass, when they stood at the wheel, and watch the +proceedings in the cabin; especially when the steward was setting the table for +dinner, or the captain was lounging over a decanter of wine on a little +mahogany stand, or playing the game called <i>solitaire,</i> at cards, of an +evening; for at times he was all alone with his dignity; though, as will ere +long be shown, he generally had one pleasant companion, whose society he did +not dislike. +</p> + +<p> +The day following my attempt to drop in at the cabin, I happened to be making +fast a rope on the quarter-deck, when the captain suddenly made his appearance, +promenading up and down, and smoking a cigar. He looked very good-humored and +amiable, and it being just after his dinner, I thought that this, to be sure, +was just the chance I wanted. +</p> + +<p> +I waited a little while, thinking he would speak to me himself; but as he did +not, I went up to him, and began by saying it was a very pleasant day, and +hoped he was very well. I never saw a man fly into such a rage; I thought he +was going to knock me down; but after standing speechless awhile, he all at +once plucked his cap from his head and threw it at me. I don’t know what +impelled me, but I ran to the lee-scuppers where it fell, picked it up, and +gave it to him with a bow; when the mate came running up, and thrust me forward +again; and after he had got me as far as the windlass, he wanted to know +whether I was crazy or not; for if I was, he would put me in irons right off, +and have done with it. +</p> + +<p> +But I assured him I was in my right mind, and knew perfectly well that I had +been treated in the most rude and un-gentlemanly manner both by him and Captain +Riga. Upon this, he rapped out a great oath, and told me if I ever repeated +what I had done that evening, or ever again presumed so much as to lift my hat +to the captain, he would tie me into the rigging, and keep me there until I +learned better manners. “You are very green,” said he, “but +I’ll ripen you.” Indeed this chief mate seemed to have the keeping +of the dignity of the captain; who, in some sort, seemed too dignified +personally to protect his own dignity. +</p> + +<p> +I thought this strange enough, to be reprimanded, and charged with rudeness for +an act of common civility. However, seeing how matters stood, I resolved to let +the captain alone for the future, particularly as he had shown himself so +deficient in the ordinary breeding of a gentleman. And I could hardly credit +it, that this was the same man who had been so very civil, and polite, and +witty, when Mr. Jones and I called upon him in port. +</p> + +<p> +But this astonishment of mine was much increased, when some days after, a storm +came upon us, and the captain rushed out of the cabin in his nightcap, and +nothing else but his shirt on; and leaping up on the poop, began to jump up and +down, and curse and swear, and call the men aloft all manner of hard names, +just like a common loafer in the street. +</p> + +<p> +Besides all this, too, I noticed that while we were at sea, he wore nothing but +old shabby clothes, very different from the glossy suit I had seen him in at +our first interview, and after that on the steps of the City Hotel, where he +always boarded when in New York. Now, he wore nothing but old-fashioned +snuff-colored coats, with high collars and short waists; and faded, +short-legged pantaloons, very tight about the knees; and vests, that did not +conceal his waistbands, owing to their being so short, just like a little +boy’s. And his hats were all caved in, and battered, as if they had been +knocked about in a cellar; and his boots were sadly patched. Indeed, I began to +think that he was but a shabby fellow after all; particularly as his whiskers +lost their gloss, and he went days together without shaving; and his hair, by a +sort of miracle, began to grow of a pepper and salt color, which might have +been owing, though, to his discontinuing the use of some kind of dye while at +sea. I put him down as a sort of impostor; and while ashore, a gentleman on +false pretenses; for no gentleman would have treated another gentleman as he +did me. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Captain Riga, thought I, you are no gentleman, and you know it! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br/> +THE MELANCHOLY STATE OF HIS WARDROBE</h2> + +<p> +And now that I have been speaking of the captain’s old clothes, I may as +well speak of mine. +</p> + +<p> +It was very early in the month of June that we sailed; and I had greatly +rejoiced that it was that time of the year; for it would be warm and pleasant +upon the ocean, I thought; and my voyage would be like a summer excursion to +the sea shore, for the benefit of the salt water, and a change of scene and +society. +</p> + +<p> +So I had not given myself much concern about what I should wear; and deemed it +wholly unnecessary to provide myself with a great outfit of pilot-cloth +jackets, and browsers, and Guernsey frocks, and oil-skin suits, and sea-boots, +and many other things, which old seamen carry in their chests. But one reason +was, that I did not have the money to buy them with, even if I had wanted to. +So in addition to the clothes I had brought from home, I had only bought a red +shirt, a tarpaulin hat, and a belt and knife, as I have previously related, +which gave me a sea outfit, something like the Texan rangers’, whose +uniform, they say, consists of a shirt collar and a pair of spurs. +</p> + +<p> +But I was not many days at sea, when I found that my shore clothing, or +<i>“long togs,”</i> as the sailors call them, were but ill adapted +to the life I now led. When I went aloft, at my yard-arm gymnastics, my +pantaloons were all the time ripping and splitting in every direction, +particularly about the seat, owing to their not being cut sailor-fashion, with +low waistbands, and to wear without suspenders. So that I was often placed in +most unpleasant predicaments, straddling the rigging, sometimes in plain sight +of the cabin, with my table linen exposed in the most inelegant and +ungentlemanly manner possible. +</p> + +<p> +And worse than all, my best pair of pantaloons, and the pair I most prided +myself upon, was a very conspicuous and remarkable looking pair. +</p> + +<p> +I had had them made to order by our village tailor, a little fat man, very thin +in the legs, and who used to say he imported the latest fashions direct from +Paris; though all the fashion plates in his shop were very dirty with +fly-marks. +</p> + +<p> +Well, this tailor made the pantaloons I speak of, and while he had them in +hand, I used to call and see him two or three times a day to try them on, and +hurry him forward; for he was an old man with large round spectacles, and could +not see very well, and had no one to help him but a sick wife, with five +grandchildren to take care of; and besides that, he was such a great +snuff-taker, that it interfered with his business; for he took several pinches +for every stitch, and would sit snuffing and blowing his nose over my +pantaloons, till I used to get disgusted with him. Now, this old tailor had +shown me the pattern, after which he intended to make my pantaloons; but I +improved upon it, and bade him have a slit on the outside of each leg, at the +foot, to button up with a row of six brass bell buttons; for a grown-up cousin +of mine, who was a great sportsman, used to wear a beautiful pair of +pantaloons, made precisely in that way. +</p> + +<p> +And these were the very pair I now had at sea; the sailors made a great deal of +fun of them, and were all the time calling on each other to “twig” +them; and they would ask me to lend them a button or two, by way of a joke; and +then they would ask me if I was not a soldier. Showing very plainly that they +had no idea that my pantaloons were a very genteel pair, made in the height of +the sporting fashion, and copied from my cousin’s, who was a young man of +fortune and drove a tilbury. +</p> + +<p> +When my pantaloons ripped and tore, as I have said, I did my best to mend and +patch them; but not being much of a sempstress, the more I patched the more +they parted; because I put my patches on, without heeding the joints of the +legs, which only irritated my poor pants the more, and put them out of temper. +</p> + +<p> +Nor must I forget my boots, which were almost new when I left home. They had +been my Sunday boots, and fitted me to a charm. I never had had a pair of boots +that I liked better; I used to turn my toes out when I walked in them, unless +it was night time, when no one could see me, and I had something else to think +of; and I used to keep looking at them during church; so that I lost a good +deal of the sermon. In a word, they were a beautiful pair of boots. But all +this only unfitted them the more for sea-service; as I soon discovered. They +had very high heels, which were all the time tripping me in the rigging, and +several times came near pitching me overboard; and the salt water made them +shrink in such a manner, that they pinched me terribly about the instep; and I +was obliged to gash them cruelly, which went to my very heart. The legs were +quite long, coming a good way up toward my knees, and the edges were mounted +with red morocco. The sailors used to call them my +<i>“gaff-topsail-boots.”</i> And sometimes they used to call me +“Boots,” and sometimes “Buttons,” on account of the +ornaments on my pantaloons and shooting-jacket. +</p> + +<p> +At last, I took their advice, and <i>“razeed”</i> them, as they +phrased it. That is, I amputated the legs, and shaved off the heels to the bare +soles; which, however, did not much improve them, for it made my feet feel flat +as flounders, and besides, brought me down in the world, and made me slip and +slide about the decks, as I used to at home, when I wore straps on the ice. +</p> + +<p> +As for my tarpaulin hat, it was a very cheap one; and therefore proved a real +sham and shave; it leaked like an old shingle roof; and in a rain storm, kept +my hair wet and disagreeable. Besides, from lying down on deck in it, during +the night watches, it got bruised and battered, and lost all its beauty; so +that it was unprofitable every way. +</p> + +<p> +But I had almost forgotten my shooting-jacket, which was made of moleskin. +Every day, it grew smaller and smaller, particularly after a rain, until at +last I thought it would completely exhale, and leave nothing but the bare +seams, by way of a skeleton, on my back. It became unspeakably unpleasant, when +we got into rather cold weather, crossing the Banks of Newfoundland, when the +only way I had to keep warm during the night, was to pull on my waistcoat and +my roundabout, and then clap the shooting-jacket over all. This made it pinch +me under the arms, and it vexed, irritated, and tormented me every way; and +used to incommode my arms seriously when I was pulling the ropes; so much so, +that the mate asked me once if I had the cramp. +</p> + +<p> +I may as well here glance at some trials and tribulations of a similar kind. I +had no mattress, or bed-clothes, of any sort; for the thought of them had never +entered my mind before going to sea; so that I was obliged to sleep on the bare +boards of my bunk; and when the ship pitched violently, and almost stood upon +end, I must have looked like an Indian baby tied to a plank, and hung up +against a tree like a crucifix. +</p> + +<p> +I have already mentioned my total want of table-tools; never dreaming, that, in +this respect, going to sea as a sailor was something like going to a +boarding-school, where you must furnish your own spoon and knife, fork, and +napkin. But at length, I was so happy as to barter with a steerage passenger a +silk handkerchief of mine for a half-gallon iron pot, with hooks to it, to hang +on a grate; and this pot I used to present at the cook-house for my allowance +of coffee and tea. It gave me a good deal of trouble, though, to keep it clean, +being much disposed to rust; and the hooks sometimes scratched my face when I +was drinking; and it was unusually large and heavy; so that my breakfasts were +deprived of all ease and satisfaction, and became a toil and a labor to me. And +I was forced to use the same pot for my bean-soup, three times a week, which +imparted to it a bad flavor for coffee. +</p> + +<p> +I can not tell how I really suffered in many ways for my improvidence and +heedlessness, in going to sea so ill provided with every thing calculated to +make my situation at all comfortable, or even tolerable. In time, my wretched +“long togs” began to drop off my back, and I looked like a Sam +Patch, shambling round the deck in my rags and the wreck of my +gaff-topsail-boots. I often thought what my friends at home would have said, if +they could but get one peep at me. But I hugged myself in my miserable +shooting-jacket, when I considered that that degradation and shame never could +overtake me; yet, I thought it a galling mockery, when I remembered that my +sisters had promised to tell all inquiring friends, that Wellingborough had +gone <i>“abroad”</i> just as if I was visiting Europe on a tour +with my tutor, as poor simple Mr. Jones had hinted to the captain. +</p> + +<p> +Still, in spite of the melancholy which sometimes overtook me, there were +several little incidents that made me forget myself in the contemplation of the +strange and to me most wonderful sights of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +And perhaps nothing struck into me such a feeling of wild romance, as a view of +the first vessel we spoke. It was of a clear sunny afternoon, and she came +bearing down upon us, a most beautiful sight, with all her sails spread wide. +She came very near, and passed under our stern; and as she leaned over to the +breeze, showed her decks fore and aft; and I saw the strange sailors grouped +upon the forecastle, and the cook looking out of his cook-house with a ladle in +his hand, and the captain in a green jacket sitting on the taffrail with a +speaking-trumpet. +</p> + +<p> +And here, had this vessel come out of the infinite blue ocean, with all these +human beings on board, and the smoke tranquilly mounting up into the sea-air +from the cook’s funnel as if it were a chimney in a city; and every thing +looking so cool, and calm, and of-course, in the midst of what to me, at least, +seemed a superlative marvel. +</p> + +<p> +Hoisted at her mizzen-peak was a red flag, with a turreted white castle in the +middle, which looked foreign enough, and made me stare all the harder. +</p> + +<p> +Our captain, who had put on another hat and coat, and was lounging in an +elegant attitude on the poop, now put his high polished brass trumpet to his +mouth, and said in a very rude voice for conversation, <i>“Where +from?”</i> +</p> + +<p> +To which the other captain rejoined with some outlandish Dutch gibberish, of +which we could only make out, that the ship belonged to Hamburg, as her flag +denoted. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Hamburg!</i> +</p> + +<p> +Bless my soul! and here I am on the great Atlantic Ocean, actually beholding a +ship from Holland! It was passing strange. In my intervals of leisure from +other duties, I followed the strange ship till she was quite a little speck in +the distance. +</p> + +<p> +I could not but be struck with the manner of the two sea-captains during their +brief interview. Seated at their ease on their respective “poops” +toward the stern of their ships, while the sailors were obeying their behests; +they touched hats to each other, exchanged compliments, and drove on, with all +the indifference of two Arab horsemen accosting each other on an airing in the +Desert. To them, I suppose, the great Atlantic Ocean was a puddle. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br/> +AT DEAD OF NIGHT HE IS SENT UP TO LOOSE THE MAIN-SKYSAIL</h2> + +<p> +I must now run back a little, and tell of my first going aloft at middle watch, +when the sea was quite calm, and the breeze was mild. +</p> + +<p> +The order was given to loose the <i>main-skysail,</i> which is the fifth and +highest sail from deck. It was a very small sail, and from the forecastle +looked no bigger than a cambric pocket-handkerchief. But I have heard that some +ships carry still smaller sails, above the skysail; called <i>moon-sails,</i> +and <i>skyscrapers,</i> and <i>cloud-rakers.</i> But I shall not believe in +them till I see them; a <i>skysail</i> seems high enough in all conscience; and +the idea of any thing higher than that, seems preposterous. Besides, it looks +almost like tempting heaven, to brush the very firmament so, and almost put the +eyes of the stars out; when a flaw of wind, too, might very soon take the +conceit out of these cloud-defying <i>cloud-rakers.</i> +</p> + +<p> +Now, when the order was passed to loose the skysail, an old Dutch sailor came +up to me, and said, “Buttons, my boy, it’s high time you be doing +something; and it’s boy’s business, Buttons, to loose de royals, +and not old men’s business, like me. Now, d’ye see dat leelle +fellow way up dare? <i>dare,</i> just behind dem stars dare: well, tumble up, +now, Buttons, I zay, and looze him; way you go, Buttons.” +</p> + +<p> +All the rest joining in, and seeming unanimous in the opinion, that it was high +time for me to be stirring myself, and doing <i>boy’s business,</i> as +they called it, I made no more ado, but jumped into the rigging. Up I went, not +daring to look down, but keeping my eyes glued, as it were, to the shrouds, as +I ascended. +</p> + +<p> +It was a long road up those stairs, and I began to pant and breathe hard, +before I was half way. But I kept at it till I got to the <i>Jacob’s +Ladder;</i> and they may well call it so, for it took me almost into the +clouds; and at last, to my own amazement, I found myself hanging on the +skysail-yard, holding on might and main to the mast; and curling my feet round +the rigging, as if they were another pair of hands. +</p> + +<p> +For a few moments I stood awe-stricken and mute. I could not see far out upon +the ocean, owing to the darkness of the night; and from my lofty perch, the sea +looked like a great, black gulf, hemmed in, all round, by beetling black +cliffs. I seemed all alone; treading the midnight clouds; and every second, +expected to find myself falling—falling—falling, as I have felt +when the nightmare has been on me. +</p> + +<p> +I could but just perceive the ship below me, like a long narrow plank in the +water; and it did not seem to belong at all to the yard, over which I was +hanging. A gull, or some sort of sea-fowl, was flying round the truck over my +head, within a few yards of my face; and it almost frightened me to hear it; it +seemed so much like a spirit, at such a lofty and solitary height. +</p> + +<p> +Though there was a pretty smooth sea, and little wind; yet, at this extreme +elevation, the ship’s motion was very great; so that when the ship rolled +one way, I felt something as a fly must feel, walking the ceiling; and when it +rolled the other way, I felt as if I was hanging along a slanting pine-tree. +</p> + +<p> +But presently I heard a distant, hoarse noise from below; and though I could +not make out any thing intelligible, I knew it was the mate hurrying me. So in +a nervous, trembling desperation, I went to casting off the <i>gaskets,</i> or +lines tying up the sail; and when all was ready, sung out as I had been told, +to <i>“hoist away!”</i> And hoist they did, and me too along with +the yard and sail; for I had no time to get off, they were so unexpectedly +quick about it. It seemed like magic; there I was, going up higher and higher; +the yard rising under me, as if it were alive, and no soul in sight. Without +knowing it at the time, I was in a good deal of danger, but it was so dark that +I could not see well enough to feel afraid—at least on that account; +though I felt frightened enough in a promiscuous way. I only held on hard, and +made good the saying of old sailors, that the last person to fall overboard +from the rigging is a landsman, because he grips the ropes so fiercely; whereas +old tars are less careful, and sometimes pay the penalty. +</p> + +<p> +After this feat, I got down rapidly on deck, and received something like a +compliment from Max the Dutchman. +</p> + +<p> +This man was perhaps the best natured man among the crew; at any rate, he +treated me better than the rest did; and for that reason he deserves some +mention. +</p> + +<p> +Max was an old bachelor of a sailor, very precise about his wardrobe, and +prided himself greatly upon his seamanship, and entertained some +straight-laced, old-fashioned notions about the duties of boys at sea. His +hair, whiskers, and cheeks were of a fiery red; and as he wore a red shirt, he +was altogether the most combustible looking man I ever saw. +</p> + +<p> +Nor did his appearance belie him; for his temper was very inflammable; and at a +word, he would explode in a shower of hard words and imprecations. It was Max +that several times set on foot those conspiracies against Jackson, which I have +spoken of before; but he ended by paying him a grumbling homage, full of +resentful reservations. +</p> + +<p> +Max sometimes manifested some little interest in my welfare; and often +discoursed concerning the sorry figure I would cut in my tatters when we got to +Liverpool, and the discredit it would bring on the American Merchant Service; +for like all European seamen in American ships, Max prided himself not a little +upon his naturalization as a Yankee, and if he could, would have been very glad +to have passed himself off for a born native. +</p> + +<p> +But notwithstanding his grief at the prospect of my reflecting discredit upon +his adopted country, he never offered to better my wardrobe, by loaning me any +thing from his own well-stored chest. Like many other well-wishers, he +contented him with sympathy. Max also betrayed some anxiety to know whether I +knew how to dance; lest, when the ship’s company went ashore, I should +disgrace them by exposing my awkwardness in some of the sailor saloons. But I +relieved his anxiety on that head. +</p> + +<p> +He was a great scold, and fault-finder, and often took me to task about my +short-comings; but herein, he was not alone; for every one had a finger, or a +thumb, and sometimes both hands, in my unfortunate pie. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br/> +THE COOK AND STEWARD</h2> + +<p> +It was on a Sunday we made the Banks of Newfoundland; a drizzling, foggy, +clammy Sunday. You could hardly see the water, owing to the mist and vapor upon +it; and every thing was so flat and calm, I almost thought we must have somehow +got back to New York, and were lying at the foot of Wall-street again in a +rainy twilight. The decks were dripping with wet, so that in the dense fog, it +seemed as if we were standing on the roof of a house in a shower. +</p> + +<p> +It was a most miserable Sunday; and several of the sailors had twinges of the +rheumatism, and pulled on their monkey-jackets. As for Jackson, he was all the +time rubbing his back and snarling like a dog. +</p> + +<p> +I tried to recall all my pleasant, sunny Sundays ashore; and tried to imagine +what they were doing at home; and whether our old family friend, Mr. +Bridenstoke, would drop in, with his silver-mounted tasseled cane, between +churches, as he used to; and whether he would inquire about myself. +</p> + +<p> +But it would not do. I could hardly realize that it was Sunday at all. Every +thing went on pretty much the same as before. There was no church to go to; no +place to take a walk in; no friend to call upon. I began to think it must be a +sort of second Saturday; a foggy Saturday, when school-boys stay at home +reading Robinson Crusoe. +</p> + +<p> +The only man who seemed to be taking his ease that day, was our black cook; who +according to the invariable custom at sea, always went by the name of <i>the +doctor.</i> +</p> + +<p> +And <i>doctors,</i> cooks certainly are, the very best medicos in the world; +for what pestilent pills and potions of the Faculty are half so serviceable to +man, and health-and-strength-giving, as roasted lamb and green peas, say, in +spring; and roast beef and cranberry sauce in winter? Will a dose of calomel +and jalap do you as much good? Will a bolus build up a fainting man? Is there +any satisfaction in dining off a powder? But these doctors of the frying-pan +sometimes loll men off by a surfeit; or give them the headache, at least. Well, +what then? No matter. For if with their most goodly and ten times jolly +medicines, they now and then fill our nights with tribulations, and abridge our +days, what of the social homicides perpetrated by the Faculty? And when you die +by a pill-doctor’s hands, it is never with a sweet relish in your mouth, +as though you died by a frying-pan-doctor; but your last breath villainously +savors of ipecac and rhubarb. Then, what charges they make for the abominable +lunches they serve out so stingily! One of their bills for boluses would keep +you in good dinners a twelve-month. +</p> + +<p> +Now, our doctor was a serious old fellow, much given to metaphysics, and used +to talk about original sin. All that Sunday morning, he sat over his boiling +pots, reading out of a book which was very much soiled and covered with grease +spots: for he kept it stuck into a little leather strap, nailed to the keg +where he kept the fat skimmed off the water in which the salt beef was cooked. +I could hardly believe my eyes when I found this book was the Bible. +</p> + +<p> +I loved to peep in upon him, when he was thus absorbed; for his smoky studio or +study was a strange-looking place enough; not more than five feet square, and +about as many high; a mere box to hold the stove, the pipe of which stuck out +of the roof. +</p> + +<p> +Within, it was hung round with pots and pans; and on one side was a little +looking-glass, where he used to shave; and on a small shelf were his shaving +tools, and a comb and brush. Fronting the stove, and very close to it, was a +sort of narrow shelf, where he used to sit with his legs spread out very wide, +to keep them from scorching; and there, with his book in one hand, and a pewter +spoon in the other, he sat all that Sunday morning, stirring up his pots, and +studying away at the same time; seldom taking his eye off the page. Reading +must have been very hard work for him; for he muttered to himself quite loud as +he read; and big drops of sweat would stand upon his brow, and roll off, till +they hissed on the hot stove before him. But on the day I speak of, it was no +wonder that he got perplexed, for he was reading a mysterious passage in the +Book of Chronicles. Being aware that I knew how to read, he called me as I was +passing his premises, and read the passage over, demanding an explanation. I +told him it was a mystery that no one could explain; not even a parson. But +this did not satisfy him, and I left him poring over it still. +</p> + +<p> +He must have been a member of one of those negro churches, which are to be +found in New York. For when we lay at the wharf, I remembered that a committee +of three reverend looking old darkies, who, besides their natural canonicals, +wore quaker-cut black coats, and broad-brimmed black hats, and white +neck-cloths; these colored gentlemen called upon him, and remained conversing +with him at his cookhouse door for more than an hour; and before they went away +they stepped inside, and the sliding doors were closed; and then we heard some +one reading aloud and preaching; and after that a psalm was sung and a +benediction given; when the door opened again, and the congregation came out in +a great perspiration; owing, I suppose, to the chapel being so small, and there +being only one seat besides the stove. +</p> + +<p> +But notwithstanding his religious studies and meditations, this old fellow used +to use some bad language occasionally; particularly of cold, wet stormy +mornings, when he had to get up before daylight and make his fire; with the sea +breaking over the bows, and now and then dashing into his stove. +</p> + +<p> +So, under the circumstances, you could not blame him much, if he did rip a +little, for it would have tried old Job’s temper, to be set to work +making a fire in the water. +</p> + +<p> +Without being at all neat about his premises, this old cook was very particular +about them; he had a warm love and affection for his cook-house. In fair +weather, he spread the skirt of an old jacket before the door, by way of a mat; +and screwed a small ring-bolt into the door for a knocker; and wrote his name, +“Mr. Thompson,” over it, with a bit of red chalk. +</p> + +<p> +The men said he lived round the corner of <i>Forecastle-square,</i> opposite +the <i>Liberty Pole;</i> because his cook-house was right behind the foremast, +and very near the quarters occupied by themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Sailors have a great fancy for naming things that way on shipboard. When a man +is hung at sea, which is always done from one of the lower yard-arms, they say +he <i>“takes a walk up Ladder-lane, and down Hemp-street.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Thompson was a great crony of the steward’s, who, being a handsome, +dandy mulatto, that had once been a barber in West-Broadway, went by the name +of Lavender. I have mentioned the gorgeous turban he wore when Mr. Jones and I +visited the captain in the cabin. He never wore that turban at sea, though; but +sported an uncommon head of frizzled hair, just like the large, round brush, +used for washing windows, called a <i>Pope’s Head.</i> +</p> + +<p> +He kept it well perfumed with Cologne water, of which he had a large supply, +the relics of his West-Broadway stock in trade. His clothes, being mostly +cast-off suits of the captain of a London liner, whom he had sailed with upon +many previous voyages, were all in the height of the exploded fashions, and of +every kind of color and cut. He had claret-colored suits, and snuff-colored +suits, and red velvet vests, and buff and brimstone pantaloons, and several +full suits of black, which, with his dark-colored face, made him look quite +clerical; like a serious young colored gentleman of Barbados, about to take +orders. +</p> + +<p> +He wore an uncommon large pursy ring on his forefinger, with something he +called a real diamond in it; though it was very dim, and looked more like a +glass eye than any thing else. He was very proud of his ring, and was always +calling your attention to something, and pointing at it with his ornamented +finger. +</p> + +<p> +He was a sentimental sort of a darky, and read the <i>“Three +Spaniards,”</i> and <i>“Charlotte Temple,”</i> and carried a +lock of frizzled hair in his vest pocket, which he frequently volunteered to +show to people, with his handkerchief to his eyes. Every fine evening, about +sunset, these two, the cook and steward, used to sit on the little shelf in the +cook-house, leaning up against each other like the Siamese twins, to keep from +falling off, for the shelf was very short; and there they would stay till after +dark, smoking their pipes, and gossiping about the events that had happened +during the day in the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +And sometimes Mr. Thompson would take down his Bible, and read a chapter for +the edification of Lavender, whom he knew to be a sad profligate and gay +deceiver ashore; addicted to every youthful indiscretion. He would read over to +him the story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife; and hold Joseph up to him as +a young man of excellent principles, whom he ought to imitate, and not be +guilty of his indiscretion any more. And Lavender would look serious, and say +that he knew it was all true—he was a wicked youth, he knew it—he +had broken a good many hearts, and many eyes were weeping for him even then, +both in New York, and Liverpool, and London, and Havre. But how could he help +it? He hadn’t made his handsome face, and fine head of hair, and graceful +figure. It was not <i>he,</i> but the others, that were to blame; for his +bewitching person turned all heads and subdued all hearts, wherever he went. +And then he would look very serious and penitent, and go up to the little +glass, and pass his hands through his hair, and see how his whiskers were +coming on. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> +HE ENDEAVORS TO IMPROVE HIS MIND; AND TELLS OF ONE BLUNT AND HIS DREAM +BOOK</h2> + +<p> +On the Sunday afternoon I spoke of, it was my watch below, and I thought I +would spend it profitably, in improving my mind. +</p> + +<p> +My bunk was an upper one; and right over the head of it was a +<i>bull’s-eye,</i> or circular piece of thick ground glass, inserted into +the deck to give light. It was a dull, dubious light, though; and I often found +myself looking up anxiously to see whether the bull’s-eye had not +suddenly been put out; for whenever any one trod on it, in walking the deck, it +was momentarily quenched; and what was still worse, sometimes a coil of rope +would be thrown down on it, and stay there till I dressed myself and went up to +remove it—a kind of interruption to my studies which annoyed me very +much, when diligently occupied in reading. +</p> + +<p> +However, I was glad of any light at all, down in that gloomy hole, where we +burrowed like rabbits in a warren; and it was the happiest time I had, when all +my messmates were asleep, and I could lie on my back, during a forenoon watch +below, and read in comparative quiet and seclusion. +</p> + +<p> +I had already read two books loaned to me by Max, to whose share they had +fallen, in dividing the effects of the sailor who had jumped overboard. One was +an account of Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea, and the other was a large black +volume, with <i>Delirium Tremens</i> in great gilt letters on the back. This +proved to be a popular treatise on the subject of that disease; and I +remembered seeing several copies in the sailor book-stalls about Fulton Market, +and along South-street, in New York. +</p> + +<p> +But this Sunday I got out a book, from which I expected to reap great profit +and sound instruction. It had been presented to me by Mr. Jones, who had quite +a library, and took down this book from a top shelf, where it lay very dusty. +When he gave it to me, he said, that although I was going to sea, I must not +forget the importance of a good education; and that there was hardly any +situation in life, however humble and depressed, or dark and gloomy, but one +might find leisure in it to store his mind, and build himself up in the exact +sciences. And he added, that though it <i>did</i> look rather unfavorable for +my future prospects, to be going to sea as a common sailor so early in life; +yet, it would no doubt turn out for my benefit in the end; and, at any rate, if +I would only take good care of myself, would give me a sound constitution, if +nothing more; and <i>that</i> was not to be undervalued, for how many very rich +men would give all their bonds and mortgages for my boyish robustness. +</p> + +<p> +He added, that I need not expect any light, trivial work, that was merely +entertaining, and nothing more; but here I would find entertainment and +edification beautifully and harmoniously combined; and though, at first, I +might possibly find it dull, yet, if I perused the book thoroughly, it would +soon discover hidden charms and unforeseen attractions; besides teaching me, +perhaps, the true way to retrieve the poverty of my family, and again make them +all well-to-do in the world. +</p> + +<p> +Saying this, he handed it to me, and I blew the dust off, and looked at the +back: <i>“Smith’s Wealth of Nations.”</i> This not satisfying +me, I glanced at the title page, and found it was an <i>“Enquiry into the +Nature and Causes”</i> of the alleged wealth of nations. But happening to +look further down, I caught sight of <i>“Aberdeen,”</i> where the +book was printed; and thinking that any thing from Scotland, a foreign country, +must prove some way or other pleasing to me, I thanked Mr. Jones very kindly, +and promised to peruse the volume carefully. +</p> + +<p> +So, now, lying in my bunk, I began the book methodically, at page number one, +resolved not to permit a few flying glimpses into it, taken previously, to +prevent me from making regular approaches to the gist and body of the book, +where I fancied lay something like the philosopher’s stone, a secret +talisman, which would transmute even pitch and tar to silver and gold. +</p> + +<p> +Pleasant, though vague visions of future opulence floated before me, as I +commenced the first chapter, entitled <i>“Of the causes of improvement in +the productive power of labor.”</i> Dry as crackers and cheese, to be +sure; and the chapter itself was not much better. But this was only getting +initiated; and if I read on, the grand secret would be opened to me. So I read +on and on, about <i>“wages and profits of labor,”</i> without +getting any profits myself for my pains in perusing it. +</p> + +<p> +Dryer and dryer; the very leaves smelt of saw-dust; till at last I drank some +water, and went at it again. But soon I had to give it up for lost work; and +thought that the old backgammon board, we had at home, lettered on the back, +<i>“The History of Rome”</i> was quite as full of matter, and a +great deal more entertaining. I wondered whether Mr. Jones had ever read the +volume himself; and could not help remembering, that he had to get on a chair +when he reached it down from its dusty shelf; <i>that</i> certainly looked +suspicious. +</p> + +<p> +The best reading was on the fly leaves; and, on turning them over, I lighted +upon some half effaced pencil-marks to the following effect: <i>“Jonathan +Jones, from his particular friend Daniel Dods,</i> 1798.” So it must have +originally belonged to Mr. Jones’ father; and I wondered whether +<i>he</i> had ever read it; or, indeed, whether any body had ever read it, even +the author himself; but then authors, they say, never read their own books; +writing them, being enough in all conscience. +</p> + +<p> +At length I fell asleep, with the volume in my hand; and never slept so sound +before; after that, I used to wrap my jacket round it, and use it for a pillow; +for which purpose it answered very well; only I sometimes waked up feeling dull +and stupid; but of course the book could not have been the cause of that. +</p> + +<p> +And now I am talking of books, I must tell of Jack Blunt the sailor, and his +Dream Book. +</p> + +<p> +Jackson, who seemed to know every thing about all parts of the world, used to +tell Jack in reproach, that he was an <i>Irish Cockney.</i> By which I +understood, that he was an Irishman born, but had graduated in London, +somewhere about Radcliffe Highway; but he had no sort of brogue that I could +hear. +</p> + +<p> +He was a curious looking fellow, about twenty-five years old, as I should +judge; but to look at his back, you would have taken him for a little old man. +His arms and legs were very large, round, short, and stumpy; so that when he +had on his great monkey-jacket, and sou’west cap flapping in his face, +and his sea boots drawn up to his knees, he looked like a fat porpoise, +standing on end. He had a round face, too, like a walrus; and with about the +same expression, half human and half indescribable. He was, upon the whole, a +good-natured fellow, and a little given to looking at sea-life romantically; +singing songs about susceptible mermaids who fell in love with handsome young +oyster boys and gallant fishermen. And he had a sad story about a +man-of-war’s-man who broke his heart at Portsmouth during the late war, +and threw away his life recklessly at one of the quarter-deck cannonades, in +the battle between the Guerriere and Constitution; and another incomprehensible +story about a sort of fairy sea-queen, who used to be dunning a sea-captain all +the time for his autograph to boil in some eel soup, for a spell against the +scurvy. +</p> + +<p> +He believed in all kinds of witch-work and magic; and had some wild Irish words +he used to mutter over during a calm for a fair wind. +</p> + +<p> +And he frequently related his interviews in Liverpool with a fortune-teller, an +old negro woman by the name of De Squak, whose house was much frequented by +sailors; and how she had two black cats, with remarkably green eyes, and +nightcaps on their heads, solemnly seated on a claw-footed table near the old +goblin; when she felt his pulse, to tell what was going to befall him. +</p> + +<p> +This Blunt had a large head of hair, very thick and bushy; but from some cause +or other, it was rapidly turning gray; and in its transition state made him +look as if he wore a shako of badger skin. +</p> + +<p> +The phenomenon of gray hairs on a young head, had perplexed and confounded this +Blunt to such a degree that he at last came to the conclusion it must be the +result of the black art, wrought upon him by an enemy; and that enemy, he +opined, was an old sailor landlord in Marseilles, whom he had once seriously +offended, by knocking him down in a fray. +</p> + +<p> +So while in New York, finding his hair growing grayer and grayer, and all his +friends, the ladies and others, laughing at him, and calling him an old man +with one foot in the grave, he slipt out one night to an apothecary’s, +stated his case, and wanted to know what could be done for him. +</p> + +<p> +The apothecary immediately gave him a pint bottle of something he called +<i>“Trafalgar Oil</i> for restoring the hair,” <i>price one +dollar;</i> and told him that after he had used that bottle, and it did not +have the desired effect, he must try bottle No. 2, called <i>“Balm of +Paradise, or the Elixir of the Battle of Copenhagen.”</i> These +high-sounding naval names delighted Blunt, and he had no doubt there must be +virtue in them. +</p> + +<p> +I saw both bottles; and on one of them was an engraving, representing a young +man, presumed to be gray-headed, standing in his night-dress in the middle of +his chamber, and with closed eyes applying the Elixir to his head, with both +hands; while on the bed adjacent stood a large bottle, conspicuously labeled, +<i>“Balm of Paradise.”</i> It seemed from the text, that this +gray-headed young man was so smitten with his hair-oil, and was so thoroughly +persuaded of its virtues, that he had got out of bed, even in his sleep; groped +into his closet, seized the precious bottle, applied its contents, and then to +bed again, getting up in the morning without knowing any thing about it. Which, +indeed, was a most mysterious occurrence; and it was still more mysterious, how +the engraver came to know an event, of which the actor himself was ignorant, +and where there were no bystanders. +</p> + +<p> +Three times in the twenty-four hours, Blunt, while at sea, regularly rubbed in +his liniments; but though the first bottle was soon exhausted by his copious +applications, and the second half gone, he still stuck to it, that by the time +we got to Liverpool, his exertions would be crowned with success. And he was +not a little delighted, that this gradual change would be operating while we +were at sea; so as not to expose him to the invidious observations of people +ashore; on the same principle that dandies go into the country when they +purpose raising whiskers. He would often ask his shipmates, whether they +noticed any change yet; and if so, how much of a change? And to tell the truth, +there was a very great change indeed; for the constant soaking of his hair with +oil, operating in conjunction with the neglect of his toilet, and want of a +brush and comb, had matted his locks together like a wild horse’s mane, +and imparted to it a blackish and extremely glossy hue. Besides his collection +of hair-oils, Blunt had also provided himself with several boxes of pills, +which he had purchased from a sailor doctor in New York, who by placards stuck +on the posts along the wharves, advertised to remain standing at the northeast +corner of Catharine Market, every Monday and Friday, between the hours of ten +and twelve in the morning, to receive calls from patients, distribute +medicines, and give advice gratis. +</p> + +<p> +Whether Blunt thought he had the dyspepsia or not, I can not say; but at +breakfast, he always took three pills with his coffee; something as they do in +Iowa, when the bilious fever prevails; where, at the boarding-houses, they put +a vial of blue pills into the castor, along with the pepper and mustard, and +next door to another vial of toothpicks. But they are very ill-bred and +unpolished in the western country. +</p> + +<p> +Several times, too, Blunt treated himself to a flowing bumper of <i>horse +salts</i> (Glauber salts); for like many other seamen, he never went to sea +without a good supply of that luxury. He would frequently, also, take this +medicine in a wet jacket, and then go on deck into a rain storm. But this is +nothing to other sailors, who at sea will doctor themselves with calomel off +Cape Horn, and still remain on duty. And in this connection, some really +frightful stories might be told; but I forbear. +</p> + +<p> +For a landsman to take salts as this Blunt did, it would perhaps be the death +of him; but at sea the salt air and the salt water prevent you from catching +cold so readily as on land; and for my own part, on board this very ship, being +so illy-provided with clothes, I frequently turned into my bunk soaking wet, +and turned out again piping hot, and smoking like a roasted sirloin; and yet +was never the worse for it; for then, I bore a charmed life of youth and +health, and was dagger-proof to bodily ill. +</p> + +<p> +But it is time to tell of the Dream Book. Snugly hidden in one corner of his +chest, Blunt had an extraordinary looking pamphlet, with a red cover, marked +all over with astrological signs and ciphers, and purporting to be a full and +complete treatise on the art of Divination; so that the most simple sailor +could teach it to himself. +</p> + +<p> +It also purported to be the selfsame system, by aid of which Napoleon Bonaparte +had risen in the world from being a corporal to an emperor. Hence it was +entitled the <i>Bonaparte Dream Book;</i> for the magic of it lay in the +interpretation of dreams, and their application to the foreseeing of future +events; so that all preparatory measures might be taken beforehand; which would +be exceedingly convenient, and satisfactory every way, if true. The problems +were to be cast by means of figures, in some perplexed and difficult way, +which, however, was facilitated by a set of tables in the end of the pamphlet, +something like the Logarithm Tables at the end of Bowditch’s Navigator. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Blunt revered, adored, and worshiped this <i>Bonaparte Dream Book</i> of +his; and was fully persuaded that between those red covers, and in his own +dreams, lay all the secrets of futurity. Every morning before taking his pills, +and applying his hair-oils, he would steal out of his bunk before the rest of +the watch were awake; take out his pamphlet, and a bit of chalk; and then +straddling his chest, begin scratching his oily head to remember his fugitive +dreams; marking down strokes on his chest-lid, as if he were casting up his +daily accounts. +</p> + +<p> +Though often perplexed and lost in mazes concerning the cabalistic figures in +the book, and the chapter of directions to beginners; for he could with +difficulty read at all; yet, in the end, if not interrupted, he somehow managed +to arrive at a conclusion satisfactory to him. So that, as he generally wore a +good-humored expression, no doubt he must have thought, that all his future +affairs were working together for the best. +</p> + +<p> +But one night he started us all up in a fright, by springing from his bunk, his +eyes ready to start out of his head, and crying, in a husky +voice—“Boys! boys! get the benches ready! Quick, quick!” +</p> + +<p> +“What benches?” growled Max—“What’s the +matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Benches! benches!” screamed Blunt, without heeding him, “cut +down the forests, bear a hand, boys; the Day of Judgment’s coming!” +</p> + +<p> +But the next moment, he got quietly into his bunk, and laid still, muttering to +himself, he had only been rambling in his sleep. +</p> + +<p> +I did not know exactly what he had meant by his <i>benches;</i> till, shortly +after, I overheard two of the sailors debating, whether mankind would stand or +sit at the Last Day. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX.<br/> +A NARROW ESCAPE</h2> + +<p> +This Dream Book of Blunt’s reminds me of a narrow escape we had, early +one morning. +</p> + +<p> +It was the larboard watch’s turn to remain below from midnight till four +o’clock; and having turned in and slept, Blunt suddenly turned out again +about three o’clock, with a wonderful dream in his head; which he was +desirous of at once having interpreted. +</p> + +<p> +So he goes to his chest, gets out his tools, and falls to ciphering on the lid. +When, all at once, a terrible cry was heard, that routed him and all the rest +of us up, and sent the whole ship’s company flying on deck in the dark. +We did not know what it was; but somehow, among sailors at sea, they seem to +know when real danger of any land is at hand, even in their sleep. +</p> + +<p> +When we got on deck, we saw the mate standing on the bowsprit, and crying out +<i>Luff! Luff!</i> to some one in the dark water before the ship. In that +direction, we could just see a light, and then, the great black hull of a +strange vessel, that was coming down on us obliquely; and so near, that we +heard the flap of her topsails as they shook in the wind, the trampling of feet +on the deck, and the same cry of <i>Luff! Luff!</i> that our own mate, was +raising. +</p> + +<p> +In a minute more, I caught my breath, as I heard a snap and a crash, like the +fall of a tree, and suddenly, one of our flying-jib guys jerked out the bolt +near the cat-head; and presently, we heard our jib-boom thumping against our +bows. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, the strange ship, scraping by us thus, shot off into the darkness, +and we saw her no more. But she, also, must have been injured; for when it grew +light, we found pieces of strange rigging mixed with ours. We repaired the +damage, and replaced the broken spar with another jib-boom we had; for all +ships carry spare spars against emergencies. +</p> + +<p> +The cause of this accident, which came near being the death of all on board, +was nothing but the drowsiness of the look-out men on the forecastles of both +ships. The sailor who had the look-out on our vessel was terribly reprimanded +by the mate. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt, many ships that are never heard of after leaving port, meet their +fate in this way; and it may be, that sometimes two vessels coming together, +jib-boom-and-jib-boom, with a sudden shock in the middle watch of the night, +mutually destroy each other; and like fighting elks, sink down into the ocean, +with their antlers locked in death. +</p> + +<p> +While I was at Liverpool, a fine ship that lay near us in the docks, having got +her cargo on board, went to sea, bound for India, with a good breeze; and all +her crew felt sure of a prosperous voyage. But in about seven days after, she +came back, a most distressing object to behold. All her starboard side was torn +and splintered; her starboard anchor was gone; and a great part of the +starboard bulwarks; while every one of the lower yard-arms had been broken, in +the same direction; so that she now carried small and unsightly +<i>jury-yards.</i> +</p> + +<p> +When I looked at this vessel, with the whole of one side thus shattered, but +the other still in fine trim; and when I remembered her gay and gallant +appearance, when she left the same harbor into which she now entered so +forlorn; I could not help thinking of a young man I had known at home, who had +left his cottage one morning in high spirits, and was brought back at noon with +his right side paralyzed from head to foot. +</p> + +<p> +It seems that this vessel had been run against by a strange ship, crowding all +sail before a fresh breeze; and the stranger had rushed past her starboard +side, reducing her to the sad state in which she now was. +</p> + +<p> +Sailors can not be too wakeful and cautious, when keeping their night +look-outs; though, as I well know, they too often suffer themselves to become +negligent, and nod. And this is not so wonderful, after all; for though every +seaman has heard of those accidents at sea; and many of them, perhaps, have +been in ships that have suffered from them; yet, when you find yourself sailing +along on the ocean at night, without having seen a sail for weeks and weeks, it +is hard for you to realize that any are near. Then, if they <i>are</i> near, it +seems almost incredible that on the broad, boundless sea, which washes +Greenland at one end of the world, and the Falkland Islands at the other, that +any one vessel upon such a vast highway, should come into close contact with +another. But the likelihood of great calamities occurring, seldom obtrudes upon +the minds of ignorant men, such as sailors generally are; for the things which +wise people know, anticipate, and guard against, the ignorant can only become +acquainted with, by meeting them face to face. And even when experience has +taught them, the lesson only serves for that day; inasmuch as the foolish in +prosperity are infidels to the possibility of adversity; they see the sun in +heaven, and believe it to be far too bright ever to set. And even, as suddenly +as the bravest and fleetest ships, while careering in pride of canvas over the +sea, have been struck, as by lightning, and quenched out of sight; even so, do +some lordly men, with all their plans and prospects gallantly trimmed to the +fair, rushing breeze of life, and with no thought of death and disaster, +suddenly encounter a shock unforeseen, and go down, foundering, into death. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX.<br/> +IN A FOG HE IS SET TO WORK AS A BELL-TOLLER, AND BEHOLDS A HERD OF +OCEAN-ELEPHANTS</h2> + +<p> +What is this that we sail through? What palpable obscure? What smoke and reek, +as if the whole steaming world were revolving on its axis, as a spit? +</p> + +<p> +It is a Newfoundland Fog; and we are yet crossing the Grand Banks, wrapt in a +mist, that no London in the Novemberest November ever equaled. The chronometer +pronounced it noon; but do you call this midnight or midday? So dense is the +fog, that though we have a fair wind, we shorten sail for fear of accidents; +and not only that, but here am I, poor Wellingborough, mounted aloft on a sort +of belfry, the top of the <i>“Sampson-Post,”</i> a lofty tower of +timber, so called; and tolling the ship’s bell, as if for a funeral. +</p> + +<p> +This is intended to proclaim our approach, and warn all strangers from our +track. +</p> + +<p> +Dreary sound! toll, toll, toll, through the dismal mist and fog. +</p> + +<p> +The bell is green with verdigris, and damp with dew; and the little cord +attached to the clapper, by which I toll it, now and then slides through my +fingers, slippery with wet. Here I am, in my slouched black hat, like the +<i>“bull that could pull,”</i> announcing the decease of the +lamented Cock-Robin. +</p> + +<p> +A better device than the bell, however, was once pitched upon by an ingenious +sea-captain, of whom I have heard. He had a litter of young porkers on board; +and while sailing through the fog, he stationed men at both ends of the pen +with long poles, wherewith they incessantly stirred up and irritated the +porkers, who split the air with their squeals; and no doubt saved the ship, as +the geese saved the Capitol. +</p> + +<p> +The most strange and unheard-of noises came out of the fog at times: a vast +sound of sighing and sobbing. What could it be? This would be followed by a +spout, and a gush, and a cascading commotion, as if some fountain had suddenly +jetted out of the ocean. +</p> + +<p> +Seated on my Sampson-Post, I stared more and more, and suspended my duty as a +sexton. But presently some one cried out—<i>“There she blows! +whales! whales close alongside!”</i> +</p> + +<p> +A whale! Think of it! whales close to <i>me,</i> Wellingborough;— would +my own brother believe it? I dropt the clapper as if it were red-hot, and +rushed to the side; and there, dimly floating, lay four or five long, black +snaky-looking shapes, only a few inches out of the water. +</p> + +<p> +Can these be whales? Monstrous whales, such as I had heard of? I thought they +would look like mountains on the sea; hills and valleys of flesh! regular +krakens, that made it high tide, and inundated continents, when they descended +to feed! +</p> + +<p> +It was a bitter disappointment, from which I was long in recovering. I lost all +respect for whales; and began to be a little dubious about the story of Jonah; +for how could Jonah reside in such an insignificant tenement; how could he have +had elbow-room there? But perhaps, thought I, the whale which according to +Rabbinical traditions was a female one, might have expanded to receive him like +an anaconda, when it swallows an elk and leaves the antlers sticking out of its +mouth. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, from that day, whales greatly fell in my estimation. +</p> + +<p> +But it is always thus. If you read of St. Peter’s, they say, and then go +and visit it, ten to one, you account it a dwarf compared to your high-raised +ideal. And, doubtless, Jonah himself must have been disappointed when he looked +up to the domed midriff surmounting the whale’s belly, and surveyed the +ribbed pillars around him. A pretty large belly, to be sure, thought he, but +not so big as it might have been. +</p> + +<p> +On the next day, the fog lifted; and by noon, we found ourselves sailing +through fleets of fishermen at anchor. They were very small craft; and when I +beheld them, I perceived the force of that sailor saying, intended to +illustrate restricted quarters, or being <i>on the limits. It is like a +fisherman’s walk,</i> say they, <i>three steps and overboard.</i> +</p> + +<p> +Lying right in the track of the multitudinous ships crossing the ocean between +England and America, these little vessels are sometimes run down, and +obliterated from the face of the waters; the cry of the sailors ceasing with +the last whirl of the whirlpool that closes over their craft. Their sad fate is +frequently the result of their own remissness in keeping a good look-out by +day, and not having their lamps trimmed, like the wise virgins, by night. +</p> + +<p> +As I shall not make mention of the Grand Banks on our homeward-bound passage, I +may as well here relate, that on our return, we approached them in the night; +and by way of making sure of our whereabouts, the deep-sea-lead was heaved. The +line attached is generally upward of three hundred fathoms in length; and the +lead itself, weighing some forty or fifty pounds, has a hole in the lower end, +in which, previous to sounding, some tallow is thrust, that it may bring up the +soil at the bottom, for the captain to inspect. This is called +“arming” the lead. +</p> + +<p> +We “hove” our deep-sea-line by night, and the operation was very +interesting, at least to me. In the first place, the vessel’s heading was +stopt; then, coiled away in a tub, like a whale-rope, the line was placed +toward the after part of the quarter-deck; and one of the sailors carried the +lead outside of the ship, away along to the end of the jib-boom, and at the +word of command, far ahead and overboard it went, with a plunge; scraping by +the side, till it came to the stern, when the line ran out of the tub like +light. +</p> + +<p> +When we came to haul <i>it</i> up, I was astonished at the force necessary to +perform the work. The whole watch pulled at the line, which was rove through a +block in the mizzen-rigging, as if we were hauling up a fat porpoise. When the +lead came in sight, I was all eagerness to examine the tallow, and get a peep +at a specimen of the bottom of the sea; but the sailors did not seem to be much +interested by it, calling me a fool for wanting to preserve a few grains of the +sand. +</p> + +<p> +I had almost forgotten to make mention of the Gulf Stream, in which we found +ourselves previous to crossing the Banks. The fact of our being in it was +proved by the captain in person, who superintended the drawing of a bucket of +salt water, in which he dipped his thermometer. In the absence of the +Gulf-weed, this is the general test; for the temperature of this current is +eight degrees higher than that of the ocean, and the temperature of the ocean +is twenty degrees higher than that of the Grand Banks. And it is to this +remarkable difference of temperature, for which there can be no equilibrium, +that many seamen impute the fogs on the coast of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland; +but why there should always be such ugly weather in the Gulf, is something that +I do not know has ever been accounted for. +</p> + +<p> +It is curious to dip one’s finger in a bucket full of the Gulf Stream, +and find it so warm; as if the Gulf of Mexico, from whence this current comes, +were a great caldron or boiler, on purpose to keep warm the North Atlantic, +which is traversed by it for a distance of two thousand miles, as some large +halls in winter are by hot air tubes. Its mean breadth being about two hundred +leagues, it comprises an area larger than that of the whole Mediterranean, and +may be deemed a sort of Mississippi of hot water flowing through the ocean; off +the coast of Florida, running at the rate of one mile and a half an hour. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI.<br/> +A WHALEMAN AND A MAN-OF-WAR’S-MAN</h2> + +<p> +The sight of the whales mentioned in the preceding chapter was the bringing out +of Larry, one of our crew, who hitherto had been quite silent and reserved, as +if from some conscious inferiority, though he had shipped as an <i>ordinary +seaman,</i> and, for aught I could see, performed his duty very well. +</p> + +<p> +When the men fell into a dispute concerning what kind of whales they were which +we saw, Larry stood by attentively, and after garnering in their ignorance, all +at once broke out, and astonished every body by his intimate acquaintance with +the monsters. +</p> + +<p> +“They ar’n’t sperm whales,” said Larry, “their +spouts ar’n’t bushy enough; they ar’n’t +Sulphur-bottoms, or they wouldn’t stay up so long; they +ar’n’t Hump-backs, for they ar’n’t got any humps; they +ar’n’t Fin-backs, for you won’t catch a Finback so near a +ship; they ar’n’t Greenland whales, for we ar’n’t off +the coast of Greenland; and they ar’n’t right whales, for it +wouldn’t be right to say so. I tell ye, men, them’s Crinkum-crankum +whales.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what are them?” said a sailor. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, them is whales that can’t be cotched.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, as it turned out that this Larry had been bred to the sea in a whaler, and +had sailed out of Nantucket many times; no one but Jackson ventured to dispute +his opinion; and even Jackson did not press him very hard. And ever after, +Larry’s judgment was relied upon concerning all strange fish that +happened to float by us during the voyage; for whalemen are far more familiar +with the wonders of the deep than any other class of seaman. +</p> + +<p> +This was Larry’s first voyage in the merchant service, and that was the +reason why, hitherto, he had been so reserved; since he well knew that merchant +seamen generally affect a certain superiority to +<i>“blubber-boilers,”</i> as they contemptuously style those who +hunt the leviathan. But Larry turned out to be such an inoffensive fellow, and +so well understood his business aboard ship, and was so ready to jump to an +order, that he was exempted from the taunts which he might otherwise have +encountered. +</p> + +<p> +He was a somewhat singular man, who wore his hat slanting forward over the +bridge of his nose, with his eyes cast down, and seemed always examining your +boots, when speaking to you. I loved to hear him talk about the wild places in +the Indian Ocean, and on the coast of Madagascar, where he had frequently +touched during his whaling voyages. And this familiarity with the life of +nature led by the people in that remote part of the world, had furnished Larry +with a sentimental distaste for civilized society. When opportunity offered, he +never omitted extolling the delights of the free and easy Indian Ocean. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” said Larry, talking through his nose, as usual, “in +<i>Madagasky</i> there, they don’t wear any togs at all, nothing but a +bowline round the midships; they don’t have no dinners, but keeps a +dinin’ all day off fat pigs and dogs; they don’t go to bed any +where, but keeps a noddin’ all the time; and they gets drunk, too, from +some first rate arrack they make from cocoa-nuts; and smokes plenty of +’baccy, too, I tell ye. Fine country, that! Blast Ameriky, I say!” +</p> + +<p> +To tell the truth, this Larry dealt in some illiberal insinuations against +civilization. +</p> + +<p> +“And what’s the use of bein’ <i>snivelized!”</i> said +he to me one night during our watch on deck; “snivelized chaps only +learns the way to take on ’bout life, and snivel. You don’t see any +Methodist chaps feelin’ dreadful about their souls; you don’t see +any darned beggars and pesky constables in <i>Madagasky, I</i> tell ye; and +none o’ them kings there gets their big toes pinched by the gout. Blast +Ameriky, I say.” +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, this Larry was rather cutting in his innuendoes. +</p> + +<p> +“Are <i>you</i> now, Buttons, any better off for bein’ +snivelized?” coming close up to me and eying the wreck of my +gaff-topsail-boots very steadfastly. “No; you ar’n’t a +bit—but you’re a good deal <i>worse</i> for it, Buttons. I tell ye, +ye wouldn’t have been to sea here, leadin’ this dog’s life, +if you hadn’t been snivelized—that’s the cause why, now. +Snivelization has been the ruin on ye; and it’s spiled me complete; I +might have been a great man in Madagasky; it’s too darned bad! Blast +Ameriky, I say.” And in bitter grief at the social blight upon his whole +past, present, and future, Larry turned away, pulling his hat still lower down +over the bridge of his nose. +</p> + +<p> +In strong contrast to Larry, was a young man-of-war’s man we had, who +went by the name of <i>“Gun-Deck,”</i> from his always talking of +sailor life in the navy. He was a little fellow with a small face and a +prodigious mop of brown hair; who always dressed in man-of-war style, with a +wide, braided collar to his frock, and Turkish trowsers. But he particularly +prided himself upon his feet, which were quite small; and when we washed down +decks of a morning, never mind how chilly it might be, he always took off his +boots, and went paddling about like a duck, turning out his pretty toes to show +his charming feet. +</p> + +<p> +He had served in the armed steamers during the Seminole War in Florida, and had +a good deal to say about sailing up the rivers there, through the everglades, +and popping off Indians on the banks. I remember his telling a story about a +party being discovered at quite a distance from them; but one of the savages +was made very conspicuous by a pewter plate, which he wore round his neck, and +which glittered in the sun. This plate proved his death; for, according to +<i>Gun-Deck,</i> he himself shot it through the middle, and the ball entered +the wearer’s heart. It was a rat-killing war, he said. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Gun-Deck</i> had touched at Cadiz: had been to Gibraltar; and ashore at +Marseilles. He had sunned himself in the Bay of Naples: eaten figs and oranges +in Messina; and cheerfully lost one of his hearts at Malta, among the ladies +there. And about all these things, he talked like a romantic man-of-war’s +man, who had seen the civilized world, and loved it; found it good, and a +comfortable place to live in. So he and Larry never could agree in their +respective views of civilization, and of savagery, of the Mediterranean and +<i>Madagasky.</i> +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII.<br/> +THE HIGHLANDER PASSES A WRECK </h2> + +<p> +We were still on the Banks, when a terrific storm came down upon us, the like +of which I had never before beheld, or imagined. The rain poured down in sheets +and cascades; the scupper holes could hardly carry it off the decks; and in +bracing the yards we waded about almost up to our knees; every thing floating +about, like chips in a dock. +</p> + +<p> +This violent rain was the precursor of a hard squall, for which we duly +prepared, taking in our canvas to double-reefed-top-sails. +</p> + +<p> +The tornado came rushing along at last, like a troop of wild horses before the +flaming rush of a burning prairie. But after bowing and cringing to it awhile, +the good Highlander was put off before it; and with her nose in the water, went +wallowing on, ploughing milk-white waves, and leaving a streak of illuminated +foam in her wake. +</p> + +<p> +It was an awful scene. It made me catch my breath as I gazed. I could hardly +stand on my feet, so violent was the motion of the ship. But while I reeled to +and fro, the sailors only laughed at me; and bade me look out that the ship did +not fall overboard; and advised me to get a handspike, and hold it down hard in +the weather-scuppers, to steady her wild motions. But I was now getting a +little too wise for this foolish kind of talk; though all through the voyage, +they never gave it over. +</p> + +<p> +This storm past, we had fair weather until we got into the Irish Sea. +</p> + +<p> +The morning following the storm, when the sea and sky had become blue again, +the man aloft sung out that there was a wreck on the lee-beam. We bore away for +it, all hands looking eagerly toward it, and the captain in the mizzen-top with +his spy-glass. Presently, we slowly passed alongside of it. +</p> + +<p> +It was a dismantled, water-logged schooner, a most dismal sight, that must have +been drifting about for several long weeks. The bulwarks were pretty much gone; +and here and there the bare <i>stanchions,</i> or posts, were left standing, +splitting in two the waves which broke clear over the deck, lying almost even +with the sea. The foremast was snapt off less than four feet from its base; and +the shattered and splintered remnant looked like the stump of a pine tree +thrown over in the woods. Every time she rolled in the trough of the sea, her +open main-hatchway yawned into view; but was as quickly filled, and submerged +again, with a rushing, gurgling sound, as the water ran into it with the +lee-roll. +</p> + +<p> +At the head of the stump of the mainmast, about ten feet above the deck, +something like a sleeve seemed nailed; it was supposed to be the relic of a +jacket, which must have been fastened there by the crew for a signal, and been +frayed out and blown away by the wind. +</p> + +<p> +Lashed, and leaning over sideways against the taffrail, were three dark, green, +grassy objects, that slowly swayed with every roll, but otherwise were +motionless. I saw the captain’s, glass directed toward them, and heard +him say at last, “They must have been dead a long time.” These were +sailors, who long ago had lashed themselves to the taffrail for safety; but +must have famished. +</p> + +<p> +Full of the awful interest of the scene, I surely thought the captain would +lower a boat to bury the bodies, and find out something about the schooner. But +we did not stop at all; passing on our course, without so much as learning the +schooner’s name, though every one supposed her to be a New Brunswick +lumberman. +</p> + +<p> +On the part of the sailors, no surprise was shown that our captain did not send +off a boat to the wreck; but the steerage passengers were indignant at what +they called his barbarity. For me, I could not but feel amazed and shocked at +his indifference; but my subsequent sea experiences have shown me, that such +conduct as this is very common, though not, of course, when human life can be +saved. +</p> + +<p> +So away we sailed, and left her; drifting, drifting on; a garden spot for +barnacles, and a playhouse for the sharks. +</p> + +<p> +“Look there,” said Jackson, hanging over the rail and +coughing—“look there; that’s a sailor’s coffin. Ha! ha! +Buttons,” turning round to me—“how do you like that, Buttons? +Wouldn’t you like to take a sail with them ’ere dead men? +Wouldn’t it be nice?” And then he tried to laugh, but only coughed +again. “Don’t laugh at dem poor fellows,” said Max, looking +grave; “do’ you see dar bodies, dar souls are farder off dan de +Cape of Dood Hope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dood Hope, Dood Hope,” shrieked Jackson, with a horrid grin, +mimicking the Dutchman, “dare is no dood hope for dem, old boy; dey are +drowned and d .... d, as you and I will be, Red Max, one of dese dark +nights.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” said Blunt, “all sailors are saved; they have +plenty of squalls here below, but fair weather aloft.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you get that out of your silly Dream Book, you Greek?” +howled Jackson through a cough. “Don’t talk of heaven to +me—it’s a lie—I know it—and they are all fools that +believe in it. Do you think, you Greek, that there’s any heaven for +<i>you?</i> Will they let <i>you</i> in there, with that tarry hand, and that +oily head of hair? Avast! when some shark gulps you down his hatchway one of +these days, you’ll find, that by dying, you’ll only go from one +gale of wind to another; mind that, you Irish cockney! Yes, you’ll be +bolted down like one of your own pills: and I should like to see the whole ship +swallowed down in the Norway maelstrom, like a box on ’em. That would be +a dose of salts for ye!” And so saying, he went off, holding his hands to +his chest, and coughing, as if his last hour was come. +</p> + +<p> +Every day this Jackson seemed to grow worse and worse, both in body and mind. +He seldom spoke, but to contradict, deride, or curse; and all the time, though +his face grew thinner and thinner, his eyes seemed to kindle more and more, as +if he were going to die out at last, and leave them burning like tapers before +a corpse. +</p> + +<p> +Though he had never attended churches, and knew nothing about Christianity; no +more than a Malay pirate; and though he could not read a word, yet he was +spontaneously an atheist and an infidel; and during the long night watches, +would enter into arguments, to prove that there was nothing to be believed; +nothing to be loved, and nothing worth living for; but every thing to be hated, +in the wide world. He was a horrid desperado; and like a wild Indian, whom he +resembled in his tawny skin and high cheek bones, he seemed to run amuck at +heaven and earth. He was a Cain afloat; branded on his yellow brow with some +inscrutable curse; and going about corrupting and searing every heart that beat +near him. +</p> + +<p> +But there seemed even more woe than wickedness about the man; and his +wickedness seemed to spring from his woe; and for all his hideousness, there +was that in his eye at times, that was ineffably pitiable and touching; and +though there were moments when I almost hated this Jackson, yet I have pitied +no man as I have pitied him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> +AN UNACCOUNTABLE CABIN-PASSENGER, AND A MYSTERIOUS YOUNG LADY</h2> + +<p> +As yet, I have said nothing special about the passengers we carried out. But +before making what little mention I shall of them, you must know that the +Highlander was not a Liverpool liner, or packet-ship, plying in connection with +a sisterhood of packets, at stated intervals, between the two ports. No: she +was only what is called a <i>regular trader</i> to Liverpool; sailing upon no +fixed days, and acting very much as she pleased, being bound by no obligations +of any kind: though in all her voyages, ever having New York or Liverpool for +her destination. Merchant vessels which are neither liners nor regular traders, +among sailors come under the general head of <i>transient ships;</i> which +implies that they are here to-day, and somewhere else to-morrow, like +Mullins’s dog. +</p> + +<p> +But I had no reason to regret that the Highlander was not a liner; for aboard +of those liners, from all I could gather from those who had sailed in them, the +crew have terrible hard work, owing to their carrying such a press of sail, in +order to make as rapid passages as possible, and sustain the ship’s +reputation for speed. Hence it is, that although they are the very best of +sea-going craft, and built in the best possible manner, and with the very best +materials, yet, a few years of scudding before the wind, as they do, seriously +impairs their constitutions— like robust young men, who live too fast in +their teens—and they are soon sold out for a song; generally to the +people of Nantucket, New Bedford, and Sag Harbor, who repair and fit them out +for the whaling business. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, the ship that once carried over gay parties of ladies and gentlemen, as +tourists, to Liverpool or London, now carries a crew of harpooners round Cape +Horn into the Pacific. And the mahogany and bird’s-eye maple cabin, which +once held rosewood card-tables and brilliant coffee-urns, and in which many a +bottle of champagne, and many a bright eye sparkled, <i>now</i> accommodates a +bluff Quaker captain from Martha’s Vineyard; who, perhaps, while lying +with his ship in the Bay of Islands, in New Zealand, entertains a party of +naked chiefs and savages at dinner, in place of the packet-captain doing the +honors to the literati, theatrical stars, foreign princes, and gentlemen of +leisure and fortune, who generally talked gossip, politics, and nonsense across +the table, in transatlantic trips. The broad quarter-deck, too, where these +gentry promenaded, is now often choked up by the enormous head of the +sperm-whale, and vast masses of unctuous blubber; and every where reeks with +oil during the prosecution of the fishery. Sic <i>transit gloria mundi!</i> +Thus departs the pride and glory of packet-ships! <i>It is</i> like a broken +down importer of French silks embarking in the soap-boning business. +</p> + +<p> +So, not being a liner, the Highlander of course did not have very ample +accommodations for cabin passengers. I believe there were not more than five or +six state-rooms, with two or three berths in each. At any rate, on this +particular voyage she only carried out one regular cabin-passenger; that is, a +person previously unacquainted with the captain, who paid his fare down, and +came on board soberly, and in a business-like manner with his baggage. +</p> + +<p> +He was an extremely little man, that solitary cabin-passenger—the +passenger who came on board in a business-like manner with his baggage; never +spoke to any one, and the captain seldom spoke to him. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps he was a deputy from the Deaf and Dumb Institution in New York, going +over to London to address the public in pantomime at Exeter Hall concerning the +signs of the times. +</p> + +<p> +He was always in a brown study; sometimes sitting on the quarter-deck with arms +folded, and head hanging upon his chest. Then he would rise, and gaze out to +windward, as if he had suddenly discovered a friend. But looking disappointed, +would retire slowly into his state-room, where you could see him through the +little window, in an irregular sitting position, with the back part of him +inserted into his berth, and his head, arms, and legs hanging out, buried in +profound meditation, with his fore-finger aside of his nose. He never was seen +reading; never took a hand at cards; never smoked; never drank wine; never +conversed; and never staid to the dessert at dinner-time. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed the true microcosm, or little world to himself: standing in no need +of levying contributions upon the surrounding universe. Conjecture was lost in +speculating as to who he was, and what was his business. The sailors, who are +always curious with regard to such matters, and criticise cabin-passengers more +than cabin-passengers are perhaps aware at the time, completely exhausted +themselves in suppositions, some of which are characteristically curious. +</p> + +<p> +One of the crew said he was a mysterious bearer of secret dispatches to the +English court; others opined that he was a traveling surgeon and bonesetter, +but for what reason they thought so, I never could learn; and others declared +that he must either be an unprincipled bigamist, flying from his last wife and +several small children; or a scoundrelly forger, bank-robber, or general +burglar, who was returning to his beloved country with his ill-gotten booty. +One observing sailor was of opinion that he was an English murderer, +overwhelmed with speechless remorse, and returning home to make a full +confession and be hanged. +</p> + +<p> +But it was a little singular, that among all their sage and sometimes confident +opinings, not one charitable one was made; no! they were all sadly to the +prejudice of his moral and religious character. But this is the way all the +world over. Miserable man! could you have had an inkling of what they thought +of you, I know not what you would have done. +</p> + +<p> +However, not knowing any thing about these surmisings and suspicions, this +mysterious cabin-passenger went on his way, calm, cool, and collected; never +troubled any body, and nobody troubled him. Sometimes, of a moonlight night he +glided about the deck, like the ghost of a hospital attendant; flitting from +mast to mast; now hovering round the skylight, now vibrating in the vicinity of +the binnacle. Blunt, the Dream Book tar, swore he was a magician; and took an +extra dose of salts, by way of precaution against his spells. +</p> + +<p> +When we were but a few days from port, a comical adventure befell this +cabin-passenger. There is an old custom, still in vogue among some merchant +sailors, of tying fast in the rigging any lubberly landsman of a passenger who +may be detected taking excursions aloft, however moderate the flight of the +awkward fowl. This is called <i>“making a spread eagle”</i> of the +man; and before he is liberated, a promise is exacted, that before arriving in +port, he shall furnish the ship’s company with money enough for a treat +all round. +</p> + +<p> +Now this being one of the perquisites of sailors, they are always on the keen +look-out for an opportunity of levying such contributions upon incautious +strangers; though they never attempt it in presence of the captain; as for the +mates, they purposely avert their eyes, and are earnestly engaged about +something else, whenever they get an inkling of this proceeding going on. But, +with only one poor fellow of a cabin-passenger on board of the Highlander, and +<i>he</i> such a quiet, unobtrusive, unadventurous wight, there seemed little +chance for levying contributions. +</p> + +<p> +One remarkably pleasant morning, however, what should be seen, half way up the +mizzen rigging, but the figure of our cabin-passenger, holding on with might +and main by all four limbs, and with his head fearfully turned round, gazing +off to the horizon. He looked as if he had the nightmare; and in some sudden +and unaccountable fit of insanity, he must have been impelled to the taking up +of that perilous position. +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens!” said the mate, who was a bit of a wag, “you +will surely fall, sir! Steward, spread a mattress on deck, under the +gentleman!” +</p> + +<p> +But no sooner was our Greenland sailor’s attention called to the sight, +than snatching up some rope-yarn, he ran softly up behind the passenger, and +without speaking a word, began binding him hand and foot. The stranger was more +dumb than ever with amazement; at last violently remonstrated; but in vain; for +as his fearfulness of falling made him keep his hands glued to the ropes, and +so prevented him from any effectual resistance, he was soon made a handsome +<i>spread-eagle</i> of, to the great satisfaction of the crew. +</p> + +<p> +It was now discovered for the first, that this singular passenger stammered and +stuttered very badly, which, perhaps, was the cause of his reservedness. +</p> + +<p> +“Wha-wha-what i-i-is this f-f-for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Spread-eagle, sir,” said the Greenlander, thinking that those few +words would at once make the matter plain. +</p> + +<p> +“Wha-wha-what that me-me-mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Treats all round, sir,” said the Greenlander, wondering at the +other’s obtusity, who, however, had never so much as heard of the thing +before. +</p> + +<p> +At last, upon his reluctant acquiescence in the demands of the sailor, and +handing him two half-crown pieces, the unfortunate passenger was suffered to +descend. +</p> + +<p> +The last I ever saw of this man was his getting into a cab at Prince’s +Dock Gates in Liverpool, and driving off alone to parts unknown. He had nothing +but a valise with him, and an umbrella; but his pockets looked stuffed out; +perhaps he used them for carpet-bags. +</p> + +<p> +I must now give some account of another and still more mysterious, though very +different, sort of an occupant of the cabin, of whom I have previously hinted. +What say you to a charming young girl?—just the girl to sing the Dashing +White Sergeant; a martial, military-looking girl; her father must have been a +general. Her hair was auburn; her eyes were blue; her cheeks were white and +red; and Captain Riga was her most devoted. +</p> + +<p> +To the curious questions of the sailors concerning who she was, the steward +used to answer, that she was the daughter of one of the Liverpool dock-masters, +who, for the benefit of her health and the improvement of her mind, had sent +her out to America in the Highlander, under the captain’s charge, who was +his particular friend; and that now the young lady was returning home from her +tour. +</p> + +<p> +And truly the captain proved an attentive father to her, and often promenaded +with her hanging on his arm, past the forlorn bearer of secret dispatches, who +would look up now and then out of his reveries, and cast a furtive glance of +wonder, as if he thought the captain was audacious. +</p> + +<p> +Considering his beautiful ward, I thought the captain behaved ungallantly, to +say the least, in availing himself of the opportunity of her charming society, +to wear out his remaining old clothes; for no gentleman ever pretends to save +his best coat when a lady is in the case; indeed, he generally thirsts for a +chance to abase it, by converting it into a pontoon over a puddle, like Sir +Walter Raleigh, that the ladies may not soil the soles of their dainty +slippers. But this Captain Riga was no Raleigh, and hardly any sort of a true +gentleman whatever, as I have formerly declared. Yet, perhaps, he might have +worn his old clothes in this instance, for the express purpose of proving, by +his disdain for the toilet, that he was nothing but the young lady’s +guardian; for many guardians do not care one fig how shabby they look. +</p> + +<p> +But for all this, the passage out was one long paternal sort of a shabby +flirtation between this hoydenish nymph and the ill-dressed captain. And +surely, if her good mother, were she living, could have seen this young lady, +she would have given her an endless lecture for her conduct, and a copy of Mrs. +Ellis’s Daughters of England to read and digest. I shall say no more of +this anonymous nymph; only, that when we arrived at Liverpool, she issued from +her cabin in a richly embroidered silk dress, and lace hat and veil, and a sort +of Chinese umbrella or parasol, which one of the sailors declared +“spandangalous;” and the captain followed after in his best +broadcloth and beaver, with a gold-headed cane; and away they went in a +carriage, and that was the last of her; I hope she is well and happy now; but I +have some misgivings. +</p> + +<p> +It now remains to speak of the steerage passengers. There were not more than +twenty or thirty of them, mostly mechanics, returning home, after a prosperous +stay in America, to escort their wives and families back. These were the only +occupants of the steerage that I ever knew of; till early one morning, in the +gray dawn, when we made Cape Clear, the south point of Ireland, the apparition +of a tall Irishman, in a shabby shirt of bed-ticking, emerged from the fore +hatchway, and stood leaning on the rail, looking landward with a fixed, +reminiscent expression, and diligently scratching its back with both hands. We +all started at the sight, for no one had ever seen the apparition before; and +when we remembered that it must have been burrowing all the passage down in its +bunk, the only probable reason of its so manipulating its back became +shockingly obvious. +</p> + +<p> +I had almost forgotten another passenger of ours, a little boy not four feet +high, an English lad, who, when we were about forty-eight hours from New York, +suddenly appeared on deck, asking for something to eat. +</p> + +<p> +It seems he was the son of a carpenter, a widower, with this only child, who +had gone out to America in the Highlander some six months previous, where he +fell to drinking, and soon died, leaving the boy a friendless orphan in a +foreign land. +</p> + +<p> +For several weeks the boy wandered about the wharves, picking up a precarious +livelihood by sucking molasses out of the casks discharged from West India +ships, and occasionally regaling himself upon stray oranges and lemons found +floating in the docks. He passed his nights sometimes in a stall in the +markets, sometimes in an empty hogshead on the piers, sometimes in a doorway, +and once in the watchhouse, from which he escaped the next morning, running as +he told me, right between the doorkeeper’s legs, when he was taking +another vagrant to task for repeatedly throwing himself upon the public +charities. +</p> + +<p> +At last, while straying along the docks, he chanced to catch sight of the +Highlander, and immediately recognized her as the very ship which brought him +and his father out from England. He at once resolved to return in her; and, +accosting the captain, stated his case, and begged a passage. The captain +refused to give it; but, nothing daunted, the heroic little fellow resolved to +conceal himself on board previous to the ship’s sailing; which he did, +stowing himself away in the <i>between-decks;</i> and moreover, as he told us, +in a narrow space between two large casks of water, from which he now and then +thrust out his head for air. And once a steerage passenger rose in the night +and poked in and rattled about a stick where he was, thinking him an uncommon +large rat, who was after stealing a passage across the Atlantic. There are +plenty of passengers of that kind continually plying between Liverpool and New +York. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he divulged the fact of his being on board, which he took care +should not happen till he thought the ship must be out of sight of land; the +captain had him called aft, and after giving him a thorough shaking, and +threatening to toss him overboard as a tit-bit for <i>John Shark,</i> he told +the mate to send him forward among the sailors, and let him live there. The +sailors received him with open arms; but before caressing him much, they gave +him a thorough washing in the lee-scuppers, when he turned out to be quite a +handsome lad, though thin and pale with the hardships he had suffered. However, +by good nursing and plenty to eat, he soon improved and grew fat; and before +many days was as fine a looking little fellow, as you might pick out of Queen +Victoria’s nursery. The sailors took the warmest interest in him. One +made him a little hat with a long ribbon; another a little jacket; a third a +comical little pair of man-of-war’s-man’s trowsers; so that in the +end, he looked like a juvenile boatswain’s mate. Then the cook furnished +him with a little tin pot and pan; and the steward made him a present of a +pewter tea-spoon; and a steerage passenger gave him a jack knife. And thus +provided, he used to sit at meal times half way up on the forecastle ladder, +making a great racket with his pot and pan, and merry as a cricket. He was an +uncommonly fine, cheerful, clever, arch little fellow, only six years old, and +it was a thousand pities that he should be abandoned, as he was. Who can say, +whether he is fated to be a convict in New South Wales, or a member of +Parliament for Liverpool? When we got to that port, by the way, a purse was +made up for him; the captain, officers, and the mysterious cabin passenger +contributing their best wishes, and the sailors and poor steerage passengers +something like fifteen dollars in cash and tobacco. But I had almost forgot to +add that the daughter of the dock-master gave him a fine lace +pocket-handkerchief and a card-case to remember her by; very valuable, but +somewhat inappropriate presents. Thus supplied, the little hero went ashore by +himself; and I lost sight of him in the vast crowds thronging the docks of +Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +I must here mention, as some relief to the impression which Jackson’s +character must have made upon the reader, that in several ways he at first +befriended this boy; but the boy always shrunk from him; till, at last, stung +by his conduct, Jackson spoke to him no more; and seemed to hate him, harmless +as he was, along with all the rest of the world. +</p> + +<p> +As for the Lancashire lad, he was a stupid sort of fellow, as I have before +hinted. So, little interest was taken in him, that he was permitted to go +ashore at last, without a good-by from any person but one. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> +HE BEGINS TO HOP ABOUT IN THE RIGGING LIKE A SAINT JAGO’S MONKEY</h2> + +<p> +But we have not got to Liverpool yet; though, as there is little more to be +said concerning the passage out, the Highlander may as well make sail and get +there as soon as possible. The brief interval will perhaps be profitably +employed in relating what progress I made in learning the duties of a sailor. +</p> + +<p> +After my heroic feat in loosing the main-skysail, the mate entertained good +hopes of my becoming a rare mariner. In the fullness of his heart, he ordered +me to turn over the superintendence of the chicken-coop to the Lancashire boy; +which I did, very willingly. After that, I took care to show the utmost +alacrity in running aloft, which by this time became mere fun for me; and +nothing delighted me more than to sit on one of the topsail-yards, for hours +together, helping Max or the Greenlander as they worked at the rigging. +</p> + +<p> +At sea, the sailors are continually engaged in <i>“parcelling,” +“serving,”</i> and in a thousand ways ornamenting and repairing the +numberless shrouds and stays; mending sails, or turning one side of the deck +into a rope-walk, where they manufacture a clumsy sort of twine, called +<i>spun-yarn.</i> This is spun with a winch; and many an hour the Lancashire +boy had to play the part of an engine, and contribute the motive power. For +material, they use odds and ends of old rigging called +<i>“junk,”</i> the yarns of which are picked to pieces, and then +twisted into new combinations, something as most books are manufactured. This +“junk” is bought at the junk shops along the wharves; outlandish +looking dens, generally subterranean, full of old iron, old shrouds, spars, +rusty blocks, and superannuated tackles; and kept by villainous looking old +men, in tarred trowsers, and with yellow beards like oakum. They look like +wreckers; and the scattered goods they expose for sale, involuntarily remind +one of the sea-beach, covered with keels and cordage, swept ashore in a gale. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, I was now as nimble as a monkey in the rigging, and at the cry of +<i>“tumble up there, my hearties, and take in sail,” I</i> was +among the first ground-and-lofty tumblers, that sprang aloft at the word. +</p> + +<p> +But the first time we reefed top-sails of a dark night, and I found myself +hanging over the yard with eleven others, the ship plunging and rearing like a +mad horse, till I felt like being jerked off the spar; then, indeed, I thought +of a feather-bed at home, and hung on with tooth and nail; with no chance for +snoring. But a few repetitions, soon made me used to it; and before long, I +tied my reef-point as quickly and expertly as the best of them; never making +what they call a <i>“granny-knot,”</i> and slipt down on deck by +the bare stays, instead of the shrouds. It is surprising, how soon a boy +overcomes his timidity about going aloft. For my own part, my nerves became as +steady as the earth’s diameter, and I felt as fearless on the royal yard, +as Sam Patch on the cliff of Niagara. To my amazement, also, I found, that +running up the rigging at sea, especially during a squall, was much easier than +while lying in port. For as you always go up on the windward side, and the ship +leans over, it makes more of a <i>stairs</i> of the rigging; whereas, in +harbor, it is almost straight up and down. +</p> + +<p> +Besides, the pitching and rolling only imparts a pleasant sort of vitality to +the vessel; so that the difference in being aloft in a ship at sea, and a ship +in harbor, is pretty much the same, as riding a real live horse and a wooden +one. And even if the live charger should pitch you over his head, <i>that</i> +would be much more satisfactory, than an inglorious fall from the other. +</p> + +<p> +I took great delight in furling the top-gallant sails and royals in a hard +blow; which duty required two hands on the yard. +</p> + +<p> +There was a wild delirium about it; a fine rushing of the blood about the +heart; and a glad, thrilling, and throbbing of the whole system, to find +yourself tossed up at every pitch into the clouds of a stormy sky, and hovering +like a judgment angel between heaven and earth; both hands free, with one foot +in the rigging, and one somewhere behind you in the air. The sail would fill +out like a balloon, with a report like a small cannon, and then collapse and +sink away into a handful. And the feeling of mastering the rebellious canvas, +and tying it down like a slave to the spar, and binding it over and over with +the <i>gasket,</i> had a touch of pride and power in it, such as young King +Richard must have felt, when he trampled down the insurgents of Wat Tyler. +</p> + +<p> +As for steering, they never would let me go to the helm, except during a calm, +when I and the figure-head on the bow were about equally employed. +</p> + +<p> +By the way, that figure-head was a passenger I forgot to make mention of +before. +</p> + +<p> +He was a gallant six-footer of a Highlander <i>“in full fig,”</i> +with bright tartans, bare knees, barred leggings, and blue bonnet and the most +vermilion of cheeks. He was game to his wooden marrow, and stood up to it +through thick and thin; one foot a little advanced, and his right arm stretched +forward, daring on the waves. In a gale of wind it was glorious to watch him +standing at his post like a hero, and plunging up and down the watery Highlands +and Lowlands, as the ship went roaming on her way. He was a veteran with many +wounds of many sea-fights; and when he got to Liverpool a figure-head-builder +there, amputated his left leg, and gave him another wooden one, which I am +sorry to say, did not fit him very well, for ever after he looked as if he +limped. Then this figure-head-surgeon gave him another nose, and touched up one +eye, and repaired a rent in his tartans. After that the painter came and made +his toilet all over again; giving him a new suit throughout, with a plaid of a +beautiful pattern. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know what has become of Donald now, but I hope he is safe and snug +with a handsome pension in the “Sailors’-Snug-Harbor” on +Staten Island. +</p> + +<p> +The reason why they gave me such a slender chance of learning to steer was +this. I was quite young and raw, and steering a ship is a great art, upon which +much depends; especially the making a short passage; for if the helmsman be a +clumsy, careless fellow, or ignorant of his duty, he keeps the ship going about +in a melancholy state of indecision as to its precise destination; so that on a +voyage to Liverpool, it may be pointing one while for Gibraltar, then for +Rotterdam, and now for John o’ Groat’s; all of which is worse than +wasted time. Whereas, a true steersman keeps her to her work night and day; and +tries to make a bee-line from port to port. +</p> + +<p> +Then, in a sudden squall, inattention, or want of quickness at the helm, might +make the ship <i>“lurch to”—or “bring her by the +lee.”</i> And what those things are, the cabin passengers would never +find out, when they found themselves going down, down, down, and bidding +good-by forever to the moon and stars. +</p> + +<p> +And they little think, many of them, fine gentlemen and ladies that they are, +what an important personage, and how much to be had in reverence, is the rough +fellow in the pea-jacket, whom they see standing at the wheel, now cocking his +eye aloft, and then peeping at the compass, or looking out to windward. +</p> + +<p> +Why, that fellow has all your lives and eternities in his hand; and with one +small and almost imperceptible motion of a spoke, in a gale of wind, might give +a vast deal of work to surrogates and lawyers, in proving last wills and +testaments. +</p> + +<p> +Ay, you may well stare at him now. He does not look much like a man who might +play into the hands of an heir-at-law, does he? Yet such is the case. Watch him +close, therefore; take him down into your state-room occasionally after a +stormy watch, and make a friend of him. A glass of cordial will do it. And if +you or your heirs are interested with the underwriters, then also have an eye +on him. And if you remark, that of the crew, all the men who come to the helm +are careless, or inefficient; and if you observe the captain scolding them +often, and crying out: <i>“Luff, you rascal; she’s falling +off!”</i> or, <i>“Keep her steady, you scoundrel, you’re +boxing the compass!”</i> then hurry down to your state-room, and if you +have not yet made a will, get out your stationery and go at it; and when it is +done, seal it up in a bottle, like Columbus’ log, and it may possibly +drift ashore, when you are drowned in the next gale of wind. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>CHAPTER XXV.<br/> +QUARTER-DECK FURNITURE</h2> + +<p> +Though, for reasons hinted at above, they would not let me steer, I contented +myself with learning the compass, a graphic facsimile of which I drew on a +blank leaf of the <i>“Wealth of Nations,”</i> and studied it every +morning, like the multiplication table. +</p> + +<p> +I liked to peep in at the binnacle, and watch the needle; and I wondered how it +was that it pointed north, rather than south or west; for I do not know that +any reason can be given why it points in the precise direction it does. One +would think, too, that, as since the beginning of the world almost, the tide of +emigration has been setting west, the needle would point that way; whereas, it +is forever pointing its fixed fore-finger toward the Pole, where there are few +inducements to attract a sailor, unless it be plenty of ice for mint-juleps. +</p> + +<p> +Our binnacle, by the way, the place that holds a ship’s compasses, +deserves a word of mention. It was a little house, about the bigness of a +common bird-cage, with sliding panel doors, and two drawing-rooms within, and +constantly perched upon a stand, right in front of the helm. It had two chimney +stacks to carry off the smoke of the lamp that burned in it by night. +</p> + +<p> +It was painted green, and on two sides had Venetian blinds; and on one side two +glazed sashes; so that it looked like a cool little summer retreat, a snug bit +of an arbor at the end of a shady garden lane. Had I been the captain, I would +have planted vines in boxes, and placed them so as to overrun this binnacle; or +I would have put canary-birds within; and so made an aviary of it. It is +surprising what a different air may be imparted to the meanest thing by the +dainty hand of taste. Nor must I omit the helm itself, which was one of a new +construction, and a particular favorite of the captain. It was a complex system +of cogs and wheels and spindles, all of polished brass, and looked something +like a printing-press, or power-loom. The sailors, however, did not like it +much, owing to the casualties that happened to their imprudent fingers, by +catching in among the cogs and other intricate contrivances. Then, sometimes in +a calm, when the sudden swells would lift the ship, the helm would fetch a +lurch, and send the helmsman revolving round like Ixion, often seriously +hurting him; a sort of breaking on the wheel. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>harness-cask,</i> also, a sort of sea side-board, or rather meat-safe, +in which a week’s allowance of salt pork and beef is kept, deserves being +chronicled. It formed part of the standing furniture of the quarter-deck. Of an +oval shape, it was banded round with hoops all silver-gilt, with gilded bands +secured with gilded screws, and a gilded padlock, richly chased. This formed +the captain’s smoking-seat, where he would perch himself of an afternoon, +a tasseled Chinese cap upon his head, and a fragrant Havanna between his white +and canine-looking teeth. He took much solid comfort, Captain Riga. +</p> + +<p> +Then the magnificent <i>capstan!</i> The pride and glory of the whole +ship’s company, the constant care and dandled darling of the cook, whose +duty it was to keep it polished like a teapot; and it was an object of distant +admiration to the steerage passengers. Like a parlor center-table, it stood +full in the middle of the quarter-deck, radiant with brazen stars, and +variegated with diamond-shaped veneerings of mahogany and satin wood. This was +the captain’s lounge, and the chief mate’s secretary, in the +bar-holes keeping paper and pencil for memorandums. +</p> + +<p> +I might proceed and speak of the <i>booby-hatch,</i> used as a sort of settee +by the officers, and the <i>fife-rail</i> round the mainmast, inclosing a +little ark of canvas, painted green, where a small white dog with a blue ribbon +round his neck, belonging to the dock-master’s daughter, used to take his +morning walks, and air himself in this small edition of the New York +Bowling-Green. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap26"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.<br/> +A SAILOR A JACK OF ALL TRADES </h2> + +<p> +As I began to learn my sailor duties, and show activity in running aloft, the +men, I observed, treated me with a little more consideration, though not at all +relaxing in a certain air of professional superiority. For the mere knowing of +the names of the ropes, and familiarizing yourself with their places, so that +you can lay hold of them in the darkest night; and the loosing and furling of +the canvas, and reefing topsails, and hauling braces; all this, though of +course forming an indispensable part of a seaman’s vocation, and the +business in which he is principally engaged; yet these are things which a +beginner of ordinary capacity soon masters, and which are far inferior to many +other matters familiar to an <i>“able seaman.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +What did I know, for instance, about <i>striking a top-gallant-mast,</i> and +sending it down on deck in a gale of wind? Could I have <i>turned in a +dead-eye,</i> or in the approved nautical style have <i>clapt a seizing on the +main-stay?</i> What did I know of <i>“passing a gammoning,” +“reiving a Burton,” “strapping a shoe-block,” +“clearing a foul hawse,”</i> and innumerable other intricacies? +</p> + +<p> +The business of a thorough-bred sailor is a special calling, as much of a +regular trade as a carpenter’s or locksmith’s. Indeed, it requires +considerably more adroitness, and far more versatility of talent. +</p> + +<p> +In the English merchant service boys serve a long apprenticeship to the sea, of +seven years. Most of them first enter the Newcastle colliers, where they see a +great deal of severe coasting service. In an old copy of the Letters of Junius, +belonging to my father, I remember reading, that coal to supply the city of +London could be dug at Blackheath, and sold for one half the price that the +people of London then paid for it; but the Government would not suffer the +mines to be opened, as it would destroy the great nursery for British seamen. +</p> + +<p> +A thorough sailor must understand much of other avocations. He must be a bit of +an embroiderer, to work fanciful collars of hempen lace about the shrouds; he +must be something of a weaver, to weave mats of rope-yarns for lashings to the +boats; he must have a touch of millinery, so as to tie graceful bows and knots, +such as <i>Matthew Walker’s roses,</i> and <i>Turk’s heads;</i> he +must be a bit of a musician, in order to sing out at the halyards; he must be a +sort of jeweler, to set dead-eyes in the standing rigging; he must be a +carpenter, to enable him to make a jurymast out of a yard in case of emergency; +he must be a sempstress, to darn and mend the sails; a ropemaker, to twist +<i>marline</i> and <i>Spanish foxes;</i> a blacksmith, to make hooks and +thimbles for the blocks: in short, he must be a sort of Jack of all trades, in +order to master his own. And this, perhaps, in a greater or less degree, is +pretty much the case with all things else; for you know nothing till you know +all; which is the reason we never know anything. +</p> + +<p> +A sailor, also, in working at the rigging, uses special tools peculiar to his +calling—<i>fids, serving-mallets, toggles, prickers, marlingspikes, +palms, heavers,</i> and many more. The smaller sort he generally carries with +him from ship to ship in a sort of canvas reticule. +</p> + +<p> +The estimation in which a ship’s crew hold the knowledge of such +accomplishments as these, is expressed in the phrase they apply to one who is a +clever practitioner. To distinguish such a mariner from those who merely +<i>“hand, reef, and steer,”</i> that is, run aloft, furl sails, +haul ropes, and stand at the wheel, they say he is <i>“a +sailor-man”</i> which means that he not only knows how to reef a topsail, +but is an artist in the rigging. +</p> + +<p> +Now, alas! I had no chance given me to become initiated in this art and +mystery; no further, at least, than by looking on, and watching how that these +things might be done as well as others, the reason was, that I had only shipped +for this one voyage in the Highlander, a short voyage too; and it was not worth +while to teach <i>me</i> any thing, the fruit of which instructions could be +only reaped by the next ship I might belong to. All they wanted of me was the +good-will of my muscles, and the use of my backbone—comparatively small +though it was at that time—by way of a lever, for the above-mentioned +artists to employ when wanted. Accordingly, when any embroidery was going on in +the rigging, I was set to the most inglorious avocations; as in the merchant +service it is a religious maxim to keep the hands always employed at something +or other, never mind what, during their watch on deck. +</p> + +<p> +Often furnished with a club-hammer, they swung me over the bows in a bowline, +to pound the rust off the anchor: a most monotonous, and to me a most +uncongenial and irksome business. There was a remarkable fatality attending the +various hammers I carried over with me. Somehow they <i>would</i> drop out of +my hands into the sea. But the supply of reserved hammers seemed unlimited: +also the blessings and benedictions I received from the chief mate for my +clumsiness. +</p> + +<p> +At other times, they set me to picking oakum, like a convict, which hempen +business disagreeably obtruded thoughts of halters and the gallows; or +whittling belaying-pins, like a Down-Easter. +</p> + +<p> +However, I endeavored to bear it all like a young philosopher, and whiled away +the tedious hours by gazing through a port-hole while my hands were plying, and +repeating Lord Byron’s Address to the Ocean, which I had often spouted on +the stage at the High School at home. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, I got used to all these matters, and took most things coolly, in the +spirit of Seneca and the stoics. +</p> + +<p> +All but the <i>“turning out”</i> or rising from your berth when the +watch was called at night—<i>that</i> I never fancied. It was a sort of +acquaintance, which the more I cultivated, the more I shrunk from; a thankless, +miserable business, truly. +</p> + +<p> +Consider that after walking the deck for four full hours, you go below to +sleep: and while thus innocently employed in reposing your wearied limbs, you +are started up—it seems but the next instant after closing your +lids—and hurried on deck again, into the same disagreeably dark and, +perhaps, stormy night, from which you descended into the forecastle. +</p> + +<p> +The previous interval of slumber was almost wholly lost to me; at least the +golden opportunity could not be appreciated: for though it is usually deemed a +comfortable thing to be asleep, yet at the time no one is conscious that he is +so enjoying himself. Therefore I made a little private arrangement with the +Lancashire lad, who was in the other watch, just to step below occasionally, +and shake me, and whisper in my ear—<i>“Watch below, Buttons; watch +below”—</i>which pleasantly reminded me of the delightful fact. +Then I would turn over on my side, and take another nap; and in this manner I +enjoyed several complete watches in my bunk to the other sailor’s one. I +recommend the plan to all landsmen contemplating a voyage to sea. +</p> + +<p> +But notwithstanding all these contrivances, the dreadful sequel could not be +avoided. Eight bells would at last be struck, and the men on deck, exhilarated +by the prospect of changing places with us, would call the watch in a most +provoking but mirthful and facetious style. +</p> + +<p> +As thus:— +</p> + +<p> +“Starboard watch, ahoy! eight bells there, below! Tumble up, my lively +hearties; steamboat alongside waiting for your trunks: bear a hand, bear a hand +with your knee-buckles, my sweet and pleasant fellows! fine shower-bath here on +deck. Hurrah, hurrah! your ice-cream is getting cold!” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon some of the old croakers who were getting into their trowsers would +reply with—“Oh, stop your gabble, will you? don’t be in such +a hurry, now. You feel sweet, don’t you?” with other exclamations, +some of which were full of fury. +</p> + +<p> +And it was not a little curious to remark, that at the expiration of the +ensuing watch, the tables would be turned; and we on deck became the wits and +jokers, and those below the grizzly bears and growlers. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap27"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.<br/> +HE GETS A PEEP AT IRELAND, AND AT LAST ARRIVES AT LIVERPOOL</h2> + +<p> +The Highlander was not a grayhound, not a very fast sailer; and so, the +passage, which some of the packet ships make in fifteen or sixteen days, +employed us about thirty. +</p> + +<p> +At last, one morning I came on deck, and they told me that Ireland was in +sight. +</p> + +<p> +Ireland in sight! A foreign country actually visible! I peered hard, but could +see nothing but a bluish, cloud-like spot to the northeast. Was that Ireland? +Why, there was nothing remarkable about that; nothing startling. If +<i>that’s</i> the way a foreign country looks, I might as well have staid +at home. +</p> + +<p> +Now what, exactly, I had fancied the shore would look like, I can not say; but +I had a vague idea that it would be something strange and wonderful. However, +there it was; and as the light increased and the ship sailed nearer and nearer, +the land began to magnify, and I gazed at it with increasing interest. +</p> + +<p> +Ireland! I thought of Robert Emmet, and that last speech of his before Lord +Norbury; I thought of Tommy Moore, and his amatory verses: I thought of Curran, +Grattan, Plunket, and O’Connell; I thought of my uncle’s ostler, +Patrick Flinnigan; and I thought of the shipwreck of the gallant Albion, tost +to pieces on the very shore now in sight; and I thought I should very much like +to leave the ship and visit Dublin and the Giant’s Causeway. +</p> + +<p> +Presently a fishing-boat drew near, and I rushed to get a view of it; but it +was a very ordinary looking boat, bobbing up and down, as any other boat would +have done; yet, when I considered that the solitary man in it was actually a +born native of the land in sight; that in all probability he had never been in +America, and knew nothing about my friends at home, I began to think that he +looked somewhat strange. +</p> + +<p> +He was a very fluent fellow, and as soon as we were within hailing distance, +cried out—“Ah, my fine sailors, from Ameriky, ain’t ye, my +beautiful sailors?” And concluded by calling upon us to stop and heave a +rope. Thinking he might have something important to communicate, the mate +accordingly backed the main yard, and a rope being thrown, the stranger kept +hauling in upon it, and coiling it down, crying, “pay out! pay out, my +honeys; ah! but you’re noble fellows!” Till at last the mate asked +him why he did not come alongside, adding, “Haven’t you enough rope +yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure and I have,” replied the fisherman, “and it’s +time for Pat to cut and run!” and so saying, his knife severed the rope, +and with a Kilkenny grin, he sprang to his tiller, put his little craft before +the wind, and bowled away from us, with some fifteen fathoms of our tow-line. +</p> + +<p> +“And may the Old Boy hurry after you, and hang you in your stolen hemp, +you Irish blackguard!” cried the mate, shaking his fist at the receding +boat, after recovering from his first fit of amazement. +</p> + +<p> +Here, then, was a beautiful introduction to the eastern hemisphere; fairly +robbed before striking soundings. This trick upon experienced travelers +certainly beat all I had ever heard about the wooden nutmegs and bass-wood +pumpkin seeds of Connecticut. And I thought if there were any more Hibernians +like our friend Pat, the Yankee peddlers might as well give it up. +</p> + +<p> +The next land we saw was Wales. It was high noon, and a long line of purple +mountains lay like banks of clouds against the east. +</p> + +<p> +Could this be really Wales?—Wales?—and I thought of the Prince of +Wales. +</p> + +<p> +And did a real queen with a diadem reign over that very land I was looking at, +with the identical eyes in my own head?—And then I thought of a +grandfather of mine, who had fought against the ancestor of this queen at +Bunker’s Hill. +</p> + +<p> +But, after all, the general effect of these mountains was mortifyingly like the +general effect of the Kaatskill Mountains on the Hudson River. +</p> + +<p> +With a light breeze, we sailed on till next day, when we made Holyhead and +Anglesea. Then it fell almost calm, and what little wind we had, was ahead; so +we kept tacking to and fro, just gliding through the water, and always hovering +in sight of a snow-white tower in the distance, which might have been a fort, +or a light-house. I lost myself in conjectures as to what sort of people might +be tenanting that lonely edifice, and whether they knew any thing about us. +</p> + +<p> +The third day, with a good wind over the taffrail, we arrived so near our +destination, that we took a pilot at dusk. +</p> + +<p> +He, and every thing connected with him were very different from our New York +pilot. In the first place, the pilot boat that brought him was a plethoric +looking sloop-rigged boat, with flat bows, that went wheezing through the +water; quite in contrast to the little gull of a schooner, that bade us adieu +off Sandy Hook. Aboard of her were ten or twelve other pilots, fellows with +shaggy brows, and muffled in shaggy coats, who sat grouped together on deck +like a fire-side of bears, wintering in Aroostook. They must have had fine +sociable times, though, together; cruising about the Irish Sea in quest of +Liverpool-bound vessels; smoking cigars, drinking brandy-and-water, and +spinning yarns; till at last, one by one, they are all scattered on board of +different ships, and meet again by the side of a blazing sea-coal fire in some +Liverpool taproom, and prepare for another yachting. +</p> + +<p> +Now, when this English pilot boarded us, I stared at him as if he had been some +wild animal just escaped from the Zoological Gardens; for here was a real live +Englishman, just from England. Nevertheless, as he soon fell to ordering us +here and there, and swearing vociferously in a language quite familiar to me; I +began to think him very common-place, and considerable of a bore after all. +</p> + +<p> +After running till about midnight, we <i>“hove-to”</i> near the +mouth of the Mersey; and next morning, before day-break, took the first of the +flood; and with a fair wind, stood into the river; which, at its mouth, is +quite an arm of the sea. Presently, in the misty twilight, we passed immense +buoys, and caught sight of distant objects on shore, vague and shadowy shapes, +like Ossian’s ghosts. +</p> + +<p> +As I stood leaning over the side, and trying to summon up some image of +Liverpool, to see how the reality would answer to my conceit; and while the +fog, and mist, and gray dawn were investing every thing with a mysterious +interest, I was startled by the doleful, dismal sound of a great bell, whose +slow intermitting tolling seemed in unison with the solemn roll of the billows. +I thought I had never heard so boding a sound; a sound that seemed to speak of +judgment and the resurrection, like belfry-mouthed Paul of Tarsus. +</p> + +<p> +It was not in the direction of the shore; but seemed to come out of the vaults +of the sea, and out of the mist and fog. +</p> + +<p> +Who was dead, and what could it be? +</p> + +<p> +I soon learned from my shipmates, that this was the famous <i>Bett-Buoy,</i> +which is precisely what its name implies; and tolls fast or slow, according to +the agitation of the waves. In a calm, it is dumb; in a moderate breeze, it +tolls gently; but in a gale, it is an alarum like the tocsin, warning all +mariners to flee. But it seemed fuller of dirges for the past, than of +monitions for the future; and no one can give ear to it, without thinking of +the sailors who sleep far beneath it at the bottom of the deep. +</p> + +<p> +As we sailed ahead the river contracted. The day came, and soon, passing two +lofty land-marks on the Lancashire shore, we rapidly drew near the town, and at +last, came to anchor in the stream. +</p> + +<p> +Looking shoreward, I beheld lofty ranges of dingy warehouses, which seemed very +deficient in the elements of the marvelous; and bore a most unexpected +resemblance to the ware-houses along South-street in New York. There was +nothing strange; nothing extraordinary about them. There they stood; a row of +calm and collected ware-houses; very good and substantial edifices, doubtless, +and admirably adapted to the ends had in view by the builders; but plain, +matter-of-fact ware-houses, nevertheless, and that was all that could be said +of them. +</p> + +<p> +To be sure, I did not expect that every house in Liverpool must be a Leaning +Tower of Pisa, or a Strasbourg Cathedral; but yet, these edifices I must +confess, were a sad and bitter disappointment to me. +</p> + +<p> +But it was different with Larry the whaleman; who to my surprise, looking about +him delighted, exclaimed, “Why, this ’ere is a considerable +place—I’m <i>dummed if</i> it ain’t quite a place.—Why, +them ’ere houses is considerable houses. It beats the coast of Afriky, +all hollow; nothing like this in <i>Madagasky,</i> I tell you;—I’m +<i>dummed,</i> boys if Liverpool ain’t a city!” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this occasion, indeed, Larry altogether forgot his hostility to +civilization. Having been so long accustomed to associate foreign lands with +the savage places of the Indian Ocean, he had been under the impression, that +Liverpool must be a town of bamboos, situated in some swamp, and whose +inhabitants turned their attention principally to the cultivation of log-wood +and curing of flying-fish. For that any great commercial city existed three +thousand miles from home, was a thing, of which Larry had never before had a +<i>“realizing sense.”</i> He was accordingly astonished and +delighted; and began to feel a sort of consideration for the country which +could boast so extensive a town. Instead of holding Queen Victoria on a par +with the Queen of Madagascar, as he had been accustomed to do; he ever after +alluded to that lady with feeling and respect. +</p> + +<p> +As for the other seamen, the sight of a foreign country seemed to kindle no +enthusiasm in them at all: no emotion in the least. They looked around them +with great presence of mind, and acted precisely as you or I would, if, after a +morning’s absence round the corner, we found ourselves returning home. +Nearly all of them had made frequent voyages to Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +Not long after anchoring, several boats came off; and from one of them stept a +neatly-dressed and very respectable-looking woman, some thirty years of age, I +should think, carrying a bundle. Coming forward among the sailors, she inquired +for Max the Dutchman, who immediately was forthcoming, and saluted her by the +mellifluous appellation of <i>Sally.</i> +</p> + +<p> +Now during the passage, Max in discoursing to me of Liverpool, had often +assured me, that that city had the honor of containing a spouse of his; and +that in all probability, I would have the pleasure of seeing her. But having +heard a good many stories about the bigamies of seamen, and their having wives +and sweethearts in every port, the round world over; and having been an +eye-witness to a nuptial parting between this very Max and a lady in New York; +I put down this relation of his, for what I thought it might reasonably be +worth. What was my astonishment, therefore, to see this really decent, civil +woman coming with a neat parcel of Max’s shore clothes, all washed, +plaited, and ironed, and ready to put on at a moment’s warning. +</p> + +<p> +They stood apart a few moments giving loose to those transports of pleasure, +which always take place, I suppose, between man and wife after long +separations. +</p> + +<p> +At last, after many earnest inquiries as to how he had behaved himself in New +York; and concerning the state of his wardrobe; and going down into the +forecastle, and inspecting it in person, Sally departed; having exchanged her +bundle of clean clothes for a bundle of soiled ones, and this was precisely +what the New York wife had done for Max, not thirty days previous. +</p> + +<p> +So long as we laid in port, Sally visited the Highlander daily; and approved +herself a neat and expeditious getter-up of duck frocks and trowsers, a capital +tailoress, and as far as I could see, a very well-behaved, discreet, and +reputable woman. +</p> + +<p> +But from all I had seen of her, I should suppose Meg, the New York wife, to +have been equally well-behaved, discreet, and reputable; and equally devoted to +the keeping in good order Max’s wardrobe. +</p> + +<p> +And when we left England at last, Sally bade Max good-by, just as Meg had done; +and when we arrived at New York, Meg greeted Max precisely as Sally had greeted +him in Liverpool. Indeed, a pair of more amiable wives never belonged to one +man; they never quarreled, or had so much as a difference of any kind; the +whole broad Atlantic being between them; and Max was equally polite and civil +to both. For many years, he had been going Liverpool and New York voyages, +plying between wife and wife with great regularity, and sure of receiving a +hearty domestic welcome on either side of the ocean. +</p> + +<p> +Thinking this conduct of his, however, altogether wrong and every way immoral, +I once ventured to express to him my opinion on the subject. But I never did so +again. He turned round on me, very savagely; and after rating me soundly for +meddling in concerns not my own, concluded by asking me triumphantly, whether +<i>old King Sol,</i> as he called the son of David, did not have a whole +frigate-full of wives; and that being the case, whether he, a poor sailor, did +not have just as good a right to have two? “What was not wrong then, is +right now,” said Max; “so, mind your eye, Buttons, or I’ll +crack your pepper-box for you!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap28"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.<br/> +HE GOES TO SUPPER AT THE SIGN OF THE BALTIMORE CLIPPER</h2> + +<p> +In the afternoon our pilot was all alive with his orders; we hove up the +anchor, and after a deal of pulling, and hauling, and jamming against other +ships, we wedged our way through a lock at high tide; and about dark, succeeded +in working up to a berth in <i>Prince’s Dock.</i> The hawsers and +tow-lines being then coiled away, the crew were told to go ashore, select their +boarding-house, and sit down to supper. +</p> + +<p> +Here it must be mentioned, that owing to the strict but necessary regulations +of the Liverpool docks, no fires of any kind are allowed on board the vessels +within them; and hence, though the sailors are supposed to sleep in the +forecastle, yet they must get their meals ashore, or live upon cold potatoes. +To a ship, the American merchantmen adopt the former plan; the owners, of +course, paying the landlord’s bill; which, in a large crew remaining at +Liverpool more than six weeks, as we of the Highlander did, forms no +inconsiderable item in the expenses of the voyage. Other ships, +however—the economical Dutch and Danish, for instance, and sometimes the +prudent Scotch—feed their luckless tars in dock, with precisely the same +fare which they give them at sea; taking their salt junk ashore to be cooked, +which, indeed, is but scurvy sort of treatment, since it is very apt to induce +the scurvy. A parsimonious proceeding like this is regarded with immeasurable +disdain by the crews of the New York vessels, who, if their captains treated +them after that fashion, would soon bolt and run. +</p> + +<p> +It was quite dark, when we all sprang ashore; and, for the first time, I felt +dusty particles of the renowned British soil penetrating into my eyes and +lungs. As for <i>stepping</i> on it, that was out of the question, in the +well-paved and flagged condition of the streets; and I did not have an +opportunity to do so till some time afterward, when I got out into the country; +and then, indeed, I saw England, and snuffed its immortal loam—but not +till then. +</p> + +<p> +Jackson led the van; and after stopping at a tavern, took us up this street, +and down that, till at last he brought us to a narrow lane, filled with +boarding-houses, spirit-vaults, and sailors. Here we stopped before the sign of +a Baltimore Clipper, flanked on one side by a gilded bunch of grapes and a +bottle, and on the other by the British Unicorn and American Eagle, lying down +by each other, like the lion and lamb in the millennium.—A very judicious +and tasty device, showing a delicate apprehension of the propriety of +conciliating American sailors in an English boarding-house; and yet in no way +derogating from the honor and dignity of England, but placing the two nations, +indeed, upon a footing of perfect equality. +</p> + +<p> +Near the unicorn was a very small animal, which at first I took for a young +unicorn; but it looked more like a yearling lion. It was holding up one paw, as +if it had a splinter in it; and on its head was a sort of basket-hilted, +low-crowned hat, without a rim. I asked a sailor standing by, what this animal +meant, when, looking at me with a grin, he answered, “Why, youngster, +don’t you know what that means? It’s a young jackass, limping off +with a kedgeree pot of rice out of the cuddy.” +</p> + +<p> +Though it was an English boarding-house, it was kept by a broken-down American +mariner, one Danby, a dissolute, idle fellow, who had married a buxom English +wife, and now lived upon her industry; for the lady, and not the sailor, proved +to be the head of the establishment. +</p> + +<p> +She was a hale, good-looking woman, about forty years old, and among the seamen +went by the name of <i>“Handsome Mary.”</i> But though, from the +dissipated character of her spouse, Mary had become the business personage of +the house, bought the marketing, overlooked the tables, and conducted all the +more important arrangements, yet she was by no means an Amazon to her husband, +if she <i>did</i> play a masculine part in other matters. No; and the more is +the pity, poor Mary seemed too much attached to Danby, to seek to rule him as a +termagant. Often she went about her household concerns with the tears in her +eyes, when, after a fit of intoxication, this brutal husband of hers had been +beating her. The sailors took her part, and many a time volunteered to give him +a thorough thrashing before her eyes; but Mary would beg them not to do so, as +Danby would, no doubt, be a better boy next time. +</p> + +<p> +But there seemed no likelihood of this, so long as that abominable bar of his +stood upon the premises. As you entered the passage, it stared upon you on one +side, ready to entrap all guests. +</p> + +<p> +It was a grotesque, old-fashioned, castellated sort of a sentry-box, made of a +smoky-colored wood, and with a grating in front, that lifted up like a +portcullis. And here would this Danby sit all the day long; and when customers +grew thin, would patronize his own ale himself, pouring down mug after mug, as +if he took himself for one of his own quarter-casks. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes an old crony of his, one Bob Still, would come in; and then they +would occupy the sentry-box together, and swill their beer in concert. This +pot-friend of Danby was portly as a dray-horse, and had a round, sleek, oily +head, twinkling eyes, and moist red cheeks. He was a lusty troller of +ale-songs; and, with his mug in his hand, would lean his waddling bulk partly +out of the sentry-box, singing: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“No frost, no snow, no wind, I trow,<br/> +    Can hurt me if I wold,<br/> +I am so wrapt, and thoroughly lapt<br/> +    In jolly good ale and old,—<br/> +I stuff my skin so full within,<br/> +    Of jolly good ale and old.” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Or this, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Four wines and brandies I detest,<br/> +Here’s richer juice from barley press’d.<br/> +It is the quintessence of malt,<br/> +And they that drink it want no salt.<br/> +Come, then, quick come, and take this beer,<br/> +And water henceforth you’ll forswear.” +</p> + +<p> +Alas! Handsome Mary. What avail all thy private tears and remonstrances with +the incorrigible Danby, so long as that brewery of a toper, Bob Still, daily +eclipses thy threshold with the vast diameter of his paunch, and enthrones +himself in the sentry-box, holding divided rule with thy spouse? +</p> + +<p> +The more he drinks, the fatter and rounder waxes Bob; and the songs pour out as +the ale pours in, on the well-known principle, that the air in a vessel is +displaced and expelled, as the liquid rises higher and higher in it. +</p> + +<p> +But as for Danby, the miserable Yankee grows sour on good cheer, and dries up +the thinner for every drop of fat ale he imbibes. It is plain and demonstrable, +that much ale is not good for Yankees, and operates differently upon them from +what it does upon a Briton: ale must be drank in a fog and a drizzle. +</p> + +<p> +Entering the sign of the Clipper, Jackson ushered us into a small room on one +side, and shortly after, Handsome Mary waited upon us with a courtesy, and +received the compliments of several old guests among our crew. She then +disappeared to provide our supper. While my shipmates were now engaged in +tippling, and talking with numerous old acquaintances of theirs in the +neighborhood, who thronged about the door, I remained alone in the little room, +meditating profoundly upon the fact, that I was now seated upon an English +bench, under an English roof, in an English tavern, forming an integral part of +the English empire. It was a staggering fact, but none the less true. +</p> + +<p> +I examined the place attentively; it was a long, narrow, little room, with one +small arched window with red curtains, looking out upon a smoky, untidy yard, +bounded by a dingy brick-wall, the top of which was horrible with pieces of +broken old bottles, stuck into mortar. +</p> + +<p> +A dull lamp swung overhead, placed in a wooden ship suspended from the ceiling. +The walls were covered with a paper, representing an endless succession of +vessels of all nations continually circumnavigating the apartment. By way of a +pictorial mainsail to one of these ships, a map was hung against it, +representing in faded colors the flags of all nations. From the street came a +confused uproar of ballad-singers, bawling women, babies, and drunken sailors. +</p> + +<p> +And this is England? +</p> + +<p> +But where are the old abbeys, and the York Minsters, and the lord mayors, and +coronations, and the May-poles, and fox-hunters, and Derby races, and the dukes +and duchesses, and the Count d’Orsays, which, from all my reading, I had +been in the habit of associating with England? Not the most distant glimpse of +them was to be seen. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! Wellingborough, thought I, I fear you stand but a poor chance to see the +sights. You are nothing but a poor sailor boy; and the Queen is not going to +send a deputation of noblemen to invite you to St. James’s. +</p> + +<p> +It was then, I began to see, that my prospects of seeing the world as a sailor +were, after all, but very doubtful; for sailors only go <i>round</i> the world, +without going <i>into</i> it; and their reminiscences of travel are only a dim +recollection of a chain of tap-rooms surrounding the globe, parallel with the +Equator. They but touch the perimeter of the circle; hover about the edges of +terra-firma; and only land upon wharves and pier-heads. They would dream as +little of traveling inland to see Kenilworth, or Blenheim Castle, as they would +of sending a car overland to the Pope, when they touched at Naples. +</p> + +<p> +From these reveries I was soon roused, by a servant girl hurrying from room to +room, in shrill tones exclaiming, “Supper, supper ready.” +</p> + +<p> +Mounting a rickety staircase, we entered a room on the second floor. Three tall +brass candlesticks shed a smoky light upon smoky walls, of what had once been +sea-blue, covered with sailor-scrawls of foul anchors, lovers’ sonnets, +and ocean ditties. On one side, nailed against the wainscot in a row, were the +four knaves of cards, each Jack putting his best foot foremost as usual. What +these signified I never heard. +</p> + +<p> +But such ample cheer! Such a groaning table! Such a superabundance of solids +and substantial! Was it possible that sailors fared thus?—the sailors, +who at sea live upon salt beef and biscuit? +</p> + +<p> +First and foremost, was a mighty pewter dish, big as Achilles’ shield, +sustaining a pyramid of smoking sausages. This stood at one end; midway was a +similar dish, heavily laden with farmers’ slices of head-cheese; and at +the opposite end, a congregation of beef-steaks, piled tier over tier. +Scattered at intervals between, were side dishes of boiled potatoes, eggs by +the score, bread, and pickles; and on a stand adjoining, was an ample reserve +of every thing on the supper table. +</p> + +<p> +We fell to with all our hearts; wrapt ourselves in hot jackets of beef-steaks; +curtailed the sausages with great celerity; and sitting down before the +head-cheese, soon razed it to its foundations. +</p> + +<p> +Toward the close of the entertainment, I suggested to Peggy, one of the girls +who had waited upon us, that a cup of tea would be a nice thing to take; and I +would thank her for one. She replied that it was too late for tea; but she +would get me a cup of <i>“swipes”</i> if I wanted it. +</p> + +<p> +Not knowing what <i>“swipes”</i> might be, I thought I would run +the risk and try it; but it proved a miserable beverage, with a musty, sour +flavor, as if it had been a decoction of spoiled pickles. I never patronized +<i>swipes</i> again; but gave it a wide berth; though, at dinner afterward, it +was furnished to an unlimited extent, and drunk by most of my shipmates, who +pronounced it good. +</p> + +<p> +But Bob Still would not have pronounced it so; for this <i>stripes, as I</i> +learned, was a sort of cheap substitute for beer; or a bastard kind of beer; or +the washings and rinsings of old beer-barrels. But I do not remember now what +they said it was, precisely. I only know, that <i>swipes</i> was my +abomination. As for the taste of it, I can only describe it as answering to the +name itself; which is certainly significant of something vile. But it is drunk +in large quantities by the poor people about Liverpool, which, perhaps, in some +degree, accounts for their poverty. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap29"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.<br/> +REDBURN DEFERENTIALLY DISCOURSES CONCERNING THE PROSPECTS OF SAILORS</h2> + +<p> +The ship remained in Prince’s Dock over six weeks; but as I do not mean +to present a diary of my stay there, I shall here simply record the general +tenor of the life led by our crew during that interval; and will then proceed +to note down, at random, my own wanderings about town, and impressions of +things as they are recalled to me now, after the lapse of so many years. +</p> + +<p> +But first, I must mention that we saw little of the captain during our stay in +the dock. Sometimes, cane in hand, he sauntered down of a pleasant morning from +the <i>Arms Hotel</i>, I believe it was, where he boarded; and after lounging +about the ship, giving orders to his Prime Minister and Grand Vizier, the chief +mate, he would saunter back to his drawing-rooms. +</p> + +<p> +From the glimpse of a play-bill, which I detected peeping out of his pocket, I +inferred that he patronized the theaters; and from the flush of his cheeks, +that he patronized the fine old Port wine, for which Liverpool is famous. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally, however, he spent his nights on board; and mad, roystering nights +they were, such as rare Ben Jonson would have delighted in. For company over +the cabin-table, he would have four or five whiskered sea-captains, who kept +the steward drawing corks and filling glasses all the time. And once, the whole +company were found under the table at four o’clock in the morning, and +were put to bed and tucked in by the two mates. Upon this occasion, I agreed +with our woolly Doctor of Divinity, the black cook, that they should have been +ashamed of themselves; but there is no shame in some sea-captains, who only +blush after the third bottle. +</p> + +<p> +During the many visits of Captain Riga to the ship, he always said something +courteous to a gentlemanly, friendless custom-house officer, who staid on board +of us nearly all the time we lay in the dock. +</p> + +<p> +And weary days they must have been to this friendless custom-house officer; +trying to kill time in the cabin with a newspaper; and rapping on the transom +with his knuckles. He was kept on board to prevent smuggling; but he used to +smuggle himself ashore very often, when, according to law, he should have been +at his post on board ship. But no wonder; he seemed to be a man of fine +feelings, altogether above his situation; a most inglorious one, indeed; worse +than driving geese to water. +</p> + +<p> +And now, to proceed with the crew. +</p> + +<p> +At daylight, all hands were called, and the decks were washed down; then we had +an hour to go ashore to breakfast; after which we worked at the rigging, or +picked oakum, or were set to some employment or other, never mind how trivial, +till twelve o’clock, when we went to dinner. At half-past nine we resumed +work; and finally <i>knocked off</i> at four o’clock in the afternoon, +unless something particular was in hand. And after four o’clock, we could +go where we pleased, and were not required to be on board again till next +morning at daylight. +</p> + +<p> +As we had nothing to do with the cargo, of course, our duties were light +enough; and the chief mate was often put to it to devise some employment for +us. +</p> + +<p> +We had no watches to stand, a ship-keeper, hired from shore, relieving us from +that; and all the while the men’s wages ran on, as at sea. Sundays we had +to ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, it will be seen, that the life led by sailors of American ships in +Liverpool, is an exceedingly easy one, and abounding in leisure. They live +ashore on the fat of the land; and after a little wholesome exercise in the +morning, have the rest of the day to themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, these Liverpool voyages, likewise those to London and Havre, are +the least profitable that an improvident seaman can take. Because, in New York +he receives his month’s advance; in Liverpool, another; both of which, in +most cases, quickly disappear; so that by the time his voyage terminates, he +generally has but little coming to him; sometimes not a cent. Whereas, upon a +long voyage, say to India or China, his wages accumulate; he has more +inducements to economize, and far fewer motives to extravagance; and when he is +paid off at last, he goes away jingling a quart measure of dollars. +</p> + +<p> +Besides, of all sea-ports in the world, Liverpool, perhaps, most abounds in all +the variety of land-sharks, land-rats, and other vermin, which make the hapless +mariner their prey. In the shape of landlords, bar-keepers, clothiers, crimps, +and boarding-house loungers, the land-sharks devour him, limb by limb; while +the land-rats and mice constantly nibble at his purse. +</p> + +<p> +Other perils he runs, also, far worse; from the denizens of notorious +Corinthian haunts in the vicinity of the docks, which in depravity are not to +be matched by any thing this side of the pit that is bottomless. +</p> + +<p> +And yet, sailors love this Liverpool; and upon long voyages to distant parts of +the globe, will be continually dilating upon its charms and attractions, and +extolling it above all other seaports in the world. For in Liverpool they find +their Paradise—not the well known street of that name—and one of +them told me he would be content to lie in Prince’s Dock till <i>he hove +up anchor</i> for the world to come. +</p> + +<p> +Much is said of ameliorating the condition of sailors; but it must ever prove a +most difficult endeavor, so long as the antidote is given before the bane is +removed. +</p> + +<p> +Consider, that, with the majority of them, the very fact of their being +sailors, argues a certain recklessness and sensualism of character, ignorance, +and depravity; consider that they are generally friendless and alone in the +world; or if they have friends and relatives, they are almost constantly beyond +the reach of their good influences; consider that after the rigorous +discipline, hardships, dangers, and privations of a voyage, they are set adrift +in a foreign port, and exposed to a thousand enticements, which, under the +circumstances, would be hard even for virtue itself to withstand, unless virtue +went about on crutches; consider that by their very vocation they are shunned +by the better classes of people, and cut off from all access to respectable and +improving society; consider all this, and the reflecting mind must very soon +perceive that the case of sailors, as a class, is not a very promising one. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, the bad things of their condition come under the head of those chronic +evils which can only be ameliorated, it would seem, by ameliorating the moral +organization of all civilization. +</p> + +<p> +Though old seventy-fours and old frigates are converted into chapels, and +launched into the docks; though the “Boatswain’s Mate” and +other clever religious tracts in the nautical dialect are distributed among +them; though clergymen harangue them from the pier-heads: and chaplains in the +navy read sermons to them on the gun-deck; though evangelical boarding-houses +are provided for them; though the parsimony of ship-owners has seconded the +really sincere and pious efforts of Temperance Societies, to take away from +seamen their old rations of grog while at sea:—notwithstanding all these +things, and many more, the relative condition of the great bulk of sailors to +the rest of mankind, seems to remain pretty much where it was, a century ago. +</p> + +<p> +It is too much the custom, perhaps, to regard as a special advance, that +unavoidable, and merely participative progress, which any one class makes in +sharing the general movement of the race. Thus, because the sailor, who to-day +steers the Hibernia or Unicorn steam-ship across the Atlantic, is a somewhat +different man from the exaggerated sailors of Smollett, and the men who fought +with Nelson at Copenhagen, and survived to riot themselves away at North Corner +in Plymouth;—because the modem tar is not quite so gross as heretofore, +and has shaken off some of his shaggy jackets, and docked his Lord Rodney +queue:—therefore, in the estimation of some observers, he has begun to +see the evils of his condition, and has voluntarily improved. But upon a closer +scrutiny, it will be seen that he has but drifted along with that great tide, +which, perhaps, has two flows for one ebb; he has made no individual advance of +his own. +</p> + +<p> +There are classes of men in the world, who bear the same relation to society at +large, that the wheels do to a coach: and are just as indispensable. But +however easy and delectable the springs upon which the insiders pleasantly +vibrate: however sumptuous the hammer-cloth, and glossy the door-panels; yet, +for all this, the wheels must still revolve in dusty, or muddy revolutions. No +contrivance, no sagacity can lift <i>them</i> out of the mire; for upon +something the coach must be bottomed; on something the insiders must roll. +</p> + +<p> +Now, sailors form one of these wheels: they go and come round the globe; they +are the true importers, and exporters of spices and silks; of fruits and wines +and marbles; they carry missionaries, embassadors, opera-singers, armies, +merchants, tourists, and scholars to their destination: they are a bridge of +boats across the Atlantic; they are the <i>primum mobile</i> of all commerce; +and, in short, were they to emigrate in a body to man the navies of the moon, +almost every thing would stop here on earth except its revolution on its axis, +and the orators in the American Congress. +</p> + +<p> +And yet, what are sailors? What in your heart do you think of that fellow +staggering along the dock? Do you not give him a wide berth, shun him, and +account him but little above the brutes that perish? Will you throw open your +parlors to him; invite him to dinner? or give him a season ticket to your pew +in church?—No. You will do no such thing; but at a distance, you will +perhaps subscribe a dollar or two for the building of a hospital, to +accommodate sailors already broken down; or for the distribution of excellent +books among tars who can not read. And the very mode and manner in which such +charities are made, bespeak, more than words, the low estimation in which +sailors are held. It is useless to gainsay it; they are deemed almost the +refuse and offscourings of the earth; and the romantic view of them is +principally had through romances. +</p> + +<p> +But can sailors, one of the wheels of this world, be wholly lifted up from the +mire? There seems not much chance for it, in the old systems and programmes of +the future, however well-intentioned and sincere; for with such systems, the +thought of lifting them up seems almost as hopeless as that of growing the +grape in Nova Zembla. +</p> + +<p> +But we must not altogether despair for the sailor; nor need those who toil for +his good be at bottom disheartened, or Time must prove his friend in the end; +and though sometimes he would almost seem as a neglected step-son of heaven, +permitted to run on and riot out his days with no hand to restrain him, while +others are watched over and tenderly cared for; yet we feel and we know that +God is the true Father of all, and that none of his children are without the +pale of his care. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap30"></a>CHAPTER XXX.<br/> +REDBURN GROWS INTOLERABLY FLAT AND STUPID OVER SOME OUTLANDISH OLD +GUIDE-BOOKS</h2> + +<p> +Among the odd volumes in my father’s library, was a collection of old +European and English guide-books, which he had bought on his travels, a great +many years ago. In my childhood, I went through many courses of studying them, +and never tired of gazing at the numerous quaint embellishments and plates, and +staring at the strange title-pages, some of which I thought resembled the +mustached faces of foreigners. Among others was a Parisian-looking, faded, +pink-covered pamphlet, the rouge here and there effaced upon its now thin and +attenuated cheeks, entitled, <i>“Voyage Descriptif et Philosophique de +L’Ancien et du Nouveau Paris: Miroir Fidèle”</i> also a +time-darkened, mossy old book, in marbleized binding, much resembling +verd-antique, entitled, <i>“Itinéraire Instructif de Rome, ou Description +Générale des Monumens Antiques et Modernes et des Ouvrages les plus +Remarquables de Peinteur, de Sculpture, et de Architecture de cette Célébre +Ville;”</i> on the russet title-page is a vignette representing a barren +rock, partly shaded by a scrub-oak (a forlorn bit of landscape), and under the +lee of the rock and the shade of the tree, maternally reclines the houseless +foster-mother of Romulus and Remus, giving suck to the illustrious twins; a +pair of naked little cherubs sprawling on the ground, with locked arms, eagerly +engaged at their absorbing occupation; a large cactus-leaf or diaper hangs from +a bough, and the wolf looks a good deal like one of the no-horn breed of +barn-yard cows; the work is published <i>“Avec privilege du Souverain +Pontife.”</i> There was also a velvet-bound old volume, in brass clasps, +entitled, <i>“The Conductor through Holland”</i> with a plate of +the Stadt House; also a venerable <i>“Picture of London”</i> +abounding in representations of St. Paul’s, the Monument, Temple-Bar, +Hyde-Park-Corner, the Horse Guards, the Admiralty, Charing-Cross, and Vauxhall +Bridge. Also, a bulky book, in a dusty-looking yellow cover, reminding one of +the paneled doors of a mail-coach, and bearing an elaborate title-page, full of +printer’s flourishes, in emulation of the cracks of a four-in-hand whip, +entitled, in part, <i>“The Great Roads, both direct and cross, throughout +England and Wales, from an actual Admeasurement by order of His Majesty’s +Postmaster-General: This work describes the Cities, Market and Borough and +Corporate Towns, and those at which the Assizes are held, and gives the time of +the Mails’ arrival and departure from each: Describes the Inns in the +Metropolis from which the stages go, and the Inns in the country which supply +post-horses and carriages: Describes the Noblemen and Gentlemen’s Seats +situated near the Road, with Maps of the Environs of London, Bath, Brighton, +and Margate.”</i> It is dedicated <i>“To the Right Honorable the +Earls of Chesterfield and Leicester, by their Lordships’ Most Obliged, +Obedient, and Obsequious Servant, John Gary,</i> 1798.” Also a green +pamphlet, with a motto from Virgil, and an intricate coat of arms on the cover, +looking like a diagram of the Labyrinth of Crete, entitled, “A +<i>Description of York, its Antiquities and Public Buildings, particularly the +Cathedral; compiled with great pains from the most authentic +records.”</i> Also a small scholastic-looking volume, in a classic vellum +binding, and with a frontispiece bringing together at one view the towers and +turrets of King’s College and the magnificent Cathedral of Ely, though +geographically sixteen miles apart, entitled, <i>“The Cambridge Guide: +its Colleges, Halls, Libraries, and Museums, with the Ceremonies of the Town +and University, and some account of Ely Cathedral.”</i> Also a pamphlet, +with a japanned sort of cover, stamped with a disorderly higgledy-piggledy +group of pagoda-looking structures, claiming to be an accurate representation +of the <i>“North or Grand Front of Blenheim,”</i> and entitled, +“A <i>Description of Blenheim, the Seat of His Grace the Duke of +Marlborough; containing a full account of the Paintings, Tapestry, and +Furniture: a Picturesque Tour of the Gardens and Parks, and a General +Description of the famous China Gallery,</i> &.; <i>with an Essay on Landscape +Gardening: and embellished with a View of the Palace, and a New and Elegant +Plan of the Great Park.”</i> And lastly, and to the purpose, there was a +volume called “THE PICTURE OF LIVERPOOL.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a curious and remarkable book; and from the many fond associations +connected with it, I should like to immortalize it, if I could. +</p> + +<p> +But let me get it down from its shrine, and paint it, if I may, from the life. +</p> + +<p> +As I now linger over the volume, to and fro turning the pages so dear to my +boyhood,—the very pages which, years and years ago, my father turned over +amid the very scenes that are here described; what a soft, pleasing sadness +steals over me, and how I melt into the past and forgotten! +</p> + +<p> +Dear book! I will sell my Shakespeare, and even sacrifice my old quarto +Hogarth, before I will part with you. Yes, I will go to the hammer myself, ere +I send you to be knocked down in the auctioneer’s shambles. I will, my +beloved,—old family relic that you are;—till you drop leaf from +leaf, and letter from letter, you shall have a snug shelf somewhere, though I +have no bench for myself. +</p> + +<p> +In size, it is what the booksellers call an <i>18mo;</i> it is bound in green +morocco, which from my earliest recollection has been spotted and tarnished +with time; the corners are marked with triangular patches of red, like little +cocked hats; and some unknown Goth has inflicted an incurable wound upon the +back. There is no lettering outside; so that he who lounges past my humble +shelves, seldom dreams of opening the anonymous little book in green. There it +stands; day after day, week after week, year after year; and no one but myself +regards it. But I make up for all neglects, with my own abounding love for it. +</p> + +<p> +But let us open the volume. +</p> + +<p> +What are these scrawls in the fly-leaves? what incorrigible pupil of a +writing-master has been here? what crayon sketcher of wild animals and falling +air-castles? Ah, no!—these are all part and parcel of the precious book, +which go to make up the sum of its treasure to me. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the scrawls are my own; and as poets do with their juvenile sonnets, I +might write under this horse, <i>“Drawn at the age of three +years,”</i> and under this autograph, <i>“Executed at the age of +eight.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Others are the handiwork of my brothers, and sisters, and cousins; and the +hands that sketched some of them are now moldered away. +</p> + +<p> +But what does this anchor here? this ship? and this sea-ditty of +Dibdin’s? The book must have fallen into the hands of some tarry captain +of a forecastle. No: that anchor, ship, and Dibdin’s ditty are mine; this +hand drew them; and on this very voyage to Liverpool. But not so fast; I did +not mean to tell that yet. +</p> + +<p> +Full in the midst of these pencil scrawlings, completely surrounded indeed, +stands in indelible, though faded ink, and in my father’s hand-writing, +the following:— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +WALTER REDBURN. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Riddough’s Royal Hotel,<br/> +Liverpool, March 20th, 1808. +</p> + +<p> +Turning over that leaf, I come upon some half-effaced miscellaneous memoranda +in pencil, characteristic of a methodical mind, and therefore indubitably my +father’s, which he must have made at various times during his stay in +Liverpool. These are full of a strange, subdued, old, midsummer interest to me: +and though, from the numerous effacements, it is much like cross-reading to +make them out; yet, I must here copy a few at random:— +</p> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td></td><td>    </td><td>£</td><td>s.</td><td>d</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Guide-Book</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td>3</td><td>6</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Dinner at the Star and Garter</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td></td><td>10</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Trip to Preston (distance 31 m.)</i></td><td>    </td><td>2</td><td>6</td><td>3</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Gratuities</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td></td><td>4</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Hack</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td>4</td><td>6</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Thompson’s Seasons</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td></td><td>5</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Library</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td></td><td>1</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Boat on the river</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td></td><td>6</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><i>Port wine and cigar</i></td><td>    </td><td></td><td></td><td>4</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p class="p2"> +And on the opposite page, I can just decipher the following: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<i>Dine with Mr. Roscoe on Monday.</i><br/> +<i>Call upon Mr. Morille same day.</i><br/> +<i>Leave card at Colonel Digby’s on Tuesday.</i><br/> +<i>Theatre Friday night—Richard III. and new farce.</i><br/> +<i>Present letter at Miss L——’s on Tuesday.</i><br/> +<i>Call on Sampson & Wilt, Friday.</i><br/> +<i>Get my draft on London cashed.</i><br/> +<i>Write home by the Princess.</i><br/> +<i>Letter bag at Sampson and Wilt’s.</i> +</p> + +<p> +Turning over the next leaf, I unfold a map, which in the midst of the British +Arms, in one corner displays in sturdy text, that this is <i>“A Plan of +the Town of Liverpool.”</i> But there seems little plan in the confined +and crooked looking marks for the streets, and the docks irregularly scattered +along the bank of the Mersey, which flows along, a peaceful stream of shaded +line engraving. +</p> + +<p> +On the northeast corner of the map, lies a level Sahara of yellowish white: a +desert, which still bears marks of my zeal in endeavoring to populate it with +all manner of uncouth monsters in crayons. The space designated by that spot is +now, doubtless, completely built up in Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +Traced with a pen, I discover a number of dotted lines, radiating in all +directions from the foot of Lord-street, where stands marked +<i>“Riddough’s Hotel,”</i> the house my father stopped at. +</p> + +<p> +These marks delineate his various excursions in the town; and I follow the +lines on, through street and lane; and across broad squares; and penetrate with +them into the narrowest courts. +</p> + +<p> +By these marks, I perceive that my father forgot not his religion in a foreign +land; but attended St. John’s Church near the Hay-market, and other +places of public worship: I see that he visited the News Room in Duke-street, +the Lyceum in Bold-street, and the Theater Royal; and that he called to pay his +respects to the eminent Mr. Roscoe, the historian, poet, and banker. +</p> + +<p> +Reverentially folding this map, I pass a plate of the Town Hall, and come upon +the Title Page, which, in the middle, is ornamented with a piece of landscape, +representing a loosely clad lady in sandals, pensively seated upon a bleak rock +on the sea shore, supporting her head with one hand, and with the other, +exhibiting to the stranger an oval sort of salver, bearing the figure of a +strange bird, with this motto elastically stretched for a +border—<i>“Deus nobis haec otia fecit.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +The bird forms part of the city arms, and is an imaginary representation of a +now extinct fowl, called the <i>“Liver,”</i> said to have inhabited +a <i>“pool,”</i> which antiquarians assert once covered a good part +of the ground where Liverpool now stands; and from that bird, and this pool, +Liverpool derives its name. +</p> + +<p> +At a distance from the pensive lady in sandals, is a ship under full sail; and +on the beach is the figure of a small man, vainly essaying to roll over a huge +bale of goods. +</p> + +<p> +Equally divided at the top and bottom of this design, is the following title +complete; but I fear the printer will not be able to give a facsimile:— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>The Picture<br/> +of Liverpool:<br/> +or, Stranger’s Guide<br/> +and Gentleman’s Pocket Companion<br/> +</i><b> FOR THE TOWN.<br/> +</b> Embellished<br/> +With Engravings<br/> +By the Most Accomplished and Eminent Artists.<br/> +Liverpool:<br/> +Printed in Swift’s Court,<br/> +And sold by Woodward and Alderson, 56 Castle St. 1803.<br/> +<br/> +</p> + +<p> +A brief and reverential preface, as if the writer were all the time bowing, +informs the reader of the flattering reception accorded to previous editions of +the work; and quotes <i>“testimonies of respect which had lately appeared +in various quarters</i> —<i>the British Critic, Review, and the seventh +volume of the Beauties of England and Wales”—</i>and concludes by +expressing the hope, that this new, revised, and illustrated edition might +<i>“render it less unworthy of the public notice, and less unworthy also +of the subject it is intended to illustrate.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +A very nice, dapper, and respectful little preface, the time and place of +writing which is solemnly recorded at the end-Hope <i>Place, 1st Sept.</i> +1803. +</p> + +<p> +But how much fuller my satisfaction, as I fondly linger over this +circumstantial paragraph, if the writer had recorded the precise hour of the +day, and by what timepiece; and if he had but mentioned his age, occupation, +and name. +</p> + +<p> +But all is now lost; I know not who he was; and this estimable author must +needs share the oblivious fate of all literary incognitos. +</p> + +<p> +He must have possessed the grandest and most elevated ideas of true fame, since +he scorned to be perpetuated by a solitary initial. Could I find him out now, +sleeping neglected in some churchyard, I would buy him a headstone, and record +upon it naught but his title-page, deeming that his noblest epitaph. +</p> + +<p> +After the preface, the book opens with an extract from a prologue written by +the excellent Dr. Aiken, the brother of Mrs. Barbauld, upon the opening of the +Theater Royal, Liverpool, in 1772:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<i>“Where Mersey’s stream, long winding o’er the plain,<br/> +Pours his full tribute to the circling main,<br/> +A band of fishers chose their humble seat;<br/> +Contented labor blessed the fair retreat,<br/> +Inured to hardship, patient, bold, and rude,<br/> +They braved the billows for precarious food:<br/> +Their straggling huts were ranged along the shore,<br/> +Their nets and little boats their only store.”</i> +</p> + + +<p> +Indeed, throughout, the work abounds with quaint poetical quotations, and +old-fashioned classical allusions to the Aeneid and Falconer’s Shipwreck. +</p> + +<p> +And the anonymous author must have been not only a scholar and a gentleman, but +a man of gentle disinterestedness, combined with true city patriotism; for in +his <i>“Survey of</i><i> the Town”</i> are nine thickly printed +pages of a neglected poem by a neglected Liverpool poet. +</p> + +<p> +By way of apologizing for what might seem an obtrusion upon the public of so +long an episode, he courteously and feelingly introduces it by saying, that +<i>“the poem has now for several years been scarce, and is at present but +little known; and hence a very small portion of it will no doubt be highly +acceptable to the cultivated reader; especially as this noble epic is written +with great felicity of expression and the sweetest delicacy of +feeling.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Once, but once only, an uncharitable thought crossed my mind, that the author +of the Guide-Book might have been the author of the epic. But that was years +ago; and I have never since permitted so uncharitable a reflection to insinuate +itself into my mind. +</p> + +<p> +This epic, from the specimen before me, is composed in the old stately style, +and rolls along commanding as a coach and four. It sings of Liverpool and the +Mersey; its docks, and ships, and warehouses, and bales, and anchors; and after +descanting upon the abject times, when <i>“his noble waves, inglorious, +Mersey rolled,”</i> the poet breaks forth like all Parnassus with:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<i>“Now o’er the wondering world her name resounds,<br/> +From northern climes to India’s distant bounds—<br/> +Where’er his shores the broad Atlantic waves;<br/> +Where’er the Baltic rolls his wintry waves;<br/> +Where’er the honored flood extends his tide,<br/> +That clasps Sicilia like a favored bride.<br/> +Greenland for her its bulky whale resigns,<br/> +And temperate Gallia rears her generous vines:<br/> +’Midst warm Iberia citron orchards blow,<br/> +And the ripe fruitage bends the laboring bough;<br/> +In every clime her prosperous fleets are known,<br/> +She makes the wealth of every clime her own.”</i> +</p> + + +<p> +It also contains a delicately-curtained allusion to Mr. Roscoe:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<i>“And here</i> R*s*o*, <i>with genius all his own,<br/> +New tracks explores, and all before unknown?”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, both the anonymous author of the Guide-Book, and the gifted bard of the +Mersey, seem to have nourished the warmest appreciation of the fact, that to +their beloved town Roscoe imparted a reputation which gracefully embellished +its notoriety as a mere place of commerce. He is called the modern Guicciardini +of the modern Florence, and his histories, translations, and Italian Lives, are +spoken of with classical admiration. +</p> + +<p> +The first chapter begins in a methodical, business-like way, by informing the +impatient reader of the precise latitude and longitude of Liverpool; so that, +at the outset, there may be no misunderstanding on that head. It then goes on +to give an account of the history and antiquities of the town, beginning with a +record in the <i>Doomsday-Book</i> of William the Conqueror. +</p> + +<p> +Here, it must be sincerely confessed, however, that notwithstanding his +numerous other merits, my favorite author betrays a want of the uttermost +antiquarian and penetrating spirit, which would have scorned to stop in its +researches at the reign of the Norman monarch, but would have pushed on +resolutely through the dark ages, up to Moses, the man of Uz, and Adam; and +finally established the fact beyond a doubt, that the soil of Liverpool was +created with the creation. +</p> + +<p> +But, perhaps, one of the most curious passages in the chapter of antiquarian +research, is the pious author’s moralizing reflections upon an +interesting fact he records: to wit, that in a.d. 1571, the inhabitants sent a +memorial to Queen Elizabeth, praying relief under a subsidy, wherein they style +themselves <i>“her majesty’s poor decayed town of +Liverpool.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +As I now fix my gaze upon this faded and dilapidated old guide-book, bearing +every token of the ravages of near half a century, and read how this piece of +antiquity enlarges like a modern upon previous antiquities, I am forcibly +reminded that the world is indeed growing old. And when I turn to the second +chapter, <i>“On the increase of the town, and number of +inhabitants,”</i> and then skim over page after page throughout the +volume, all filled with allusions to the immense grandeur of a place, which, +since then, has more than quadrupled in population, opulence, and splendor, and +whose present inhabitants must look back upon the period here spoken of with a +swelling feeling of immeasurable superiority and pride, I am filled with a +comical sadness at the vanity of all human exaltation. For the cope-stone of +to-day is the corner-stone of tomorrow; and as St. Peter’s church was +built in great part of the ruins of old Rome, so in all our erections, however +imposing, we but form quarries and supply ignoble materials for the grander +domes of posterity. +</p> + +<p> +And even as this old guide-book boasts of the, to us, insignificant Liverpool +of fifty years ago, the New York guidebooks are now vaunting of the magnitude +of a town, whose future inhabitants, multitudinous as the pebbles on the beach, +and girdled in with high walls and towers, flanking endless avenues of opulence +and taste, will regard all our Broadways and Bowerys as but the paltry nucleus +to their Nineveh. From far up the Hudson, beyond Harlem River, where the young +saplings are now growing, that will overarch their lordly mansions with broad +boughs, centuries old; they may send forth explorers to penetrate into the then +obscure and smoky alleys of the Fifth Avenue and Fourteenth-street; and going +still farther south, may exhume the present Doric Custom-house, and quote it as +a proof that their high and mighty metropolis enjoyed a Hellenic antiquity. +</p> + +<p> +As I am extremely loth to omit giving a specimen of the dignified style of this +<i>“Picture of Liverpool,”</i> so different from the brief, pert, +and unclerkly hand-books to Niagara and Buffalo of the present day, I shall now +insert the chapter of antiquarian researches; especially as it is entertaining +in itself, and affords much valuable, and perhaps rare information, which the +reader may need, concerning the famous town, to which I made <i>my first +voyage.</i> And I think that with regard to a matter, concerning which I myself +am wholly ignorant, it is far better to quote my old friend verbatim, than to +mince his substantial baron-of-beef of information into a flimsy ragout of my +own; and so, pass it off as original. Yes, I will render unto my honored +guide-book its due. +</p> + +<p> +But how can the printer’s art so dim and mellow down the pages into a +soft sunset yellow; and to the reader’s eye, shed over the type all the +pleasant associations which the original carries to me! +</p> + +<p> +No! by my father’s sacred memory, and all sacred privacies of fond family +reminiscences, I will not! I will <i>not</i> quote thee, old Morocco, before +the cold face of the marble-hearted world; for your antiquities would only be +skipped and dishonored by shallow-minded readers; and for me, I should be +charged with swelling out my volume by plagiarizing from a guide-book-the most +vulgar and ignominious of thefts! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap31"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.<br/> +WITH HIS PROSY OLD GUIDE-BOOK, HE TAKES A PROSY STROLL THROUGH THE TOWN</h2> + +<p> +When I left home, I took the green morocco guide-book along, supposing that +from the great number of ships going to Liverpool, I would most probably ship +on board of one of them, as the event itself proved. +</p> + +<p> +Great was my boyish delight at the prospect of visiting a place, the infallible +clew to all whose intricacies I held in my hand. +</p> + +<p> +On the passage out I studied its pages a good deal. In the first place, I +grounded myself thoroughly in the history and antiquities of the town, as set +forth in the chapter I intended to quote. Then I mastered the columns of +statistics, touching the advance of population; and pored over them, as I used +to do over my multiplication-table. For I was determined to make the whole +subject my own; and not be content with a mere smattering of the thing, as is +too much the custom with most students of guide-books. Then I perused one by +one the elaborate descriptions of public edifices, and scrupulously compared +the text with the corresponding engraving, to see whether they corroborated +each other. For be it known that, including the map, there were no less than +seventeen plates in the work. And by often examining them, I had so impressed +every column and cornice in my mind, that I had no doubt of recognizing the +originals in a moment. +</p> + +<p> +In short, when I considered that my own father had used this very guide-book, +and that thereby it had been thoroughly tested, and its fidelity proved beyond +a peradventure; I could not but think that I was building myself up in an +unerring knowledge of Liverpool; especially as I had familiarized myself with +the map, and could turn sharp corners on it, with marvelous confidence and +celerity. +</p> + +<p> +In imagination, as I lay in my berth on ship-board, I used to take pleasant +afternoon rambles through the town; down St. James-street and up Great +George’s, stopping at various places of interest and attraction. I began +to think I had been born in Liverpool, so familiar seemed all the features of +the map. And though some of the streets there depicted were thickly involved, +endlessly angular and crooked, like the map of Boston, in Massachusetts, yet, I +made no doubt, that I could march through them in the darkest night, and even +run for the most distant dock upon a pressing emergency. +</p> + +<p> +Dear delusion! +</p> + +<p> +It never occurred to my boyish thoughts, that though a guide-book, fifty years +old, might have done good service in its day, yet it would prove but a +miserable cicerone to a modern. I little imagined that the Liverpool my father +saw, was another Liverpool from that to which I, his son Wellingborough was +sailing. No; these things never obtruded; so accustomed had I been to associate +my old morocco guide-book with the town it described, that the bare thought of +there being any discrepancy, never entered my mind. +</p> + +<p> +While we lay in the Mersey, before entering the dock, I got out my guide-book +to see how the map would compare with the identical place itself. But they bore +not the slightest resemblance. However, thinks I, this is owing to my taking a +horizontal view, instead of a bird’s-eye survey. So, never mind old +guide-book, <i>you,</i> at least, are all right. +</p> + +<p> +But my faith received a severe shock that same evening, when the crew went +ashore to supper, as I have previously related. +</p> + +<p> +The men stopped at a curious old tavern, near the Prince’s Dock’s +walls; and having my guide-book in my pocket, I drew it forth to compare notes, +when I found, that precisely upon the spot where I and my shipmates were +standing, and a cherry-cheeked bar-maid was filling their glasses, my +infallible old Morocco, in that very place, located a fort; adding, that it was +well worth the intelligent stranger’s while to visit it for the purpose +of beholding the guard relieved in the evening. +</p> + +<p> +This was a staggerer; for how could a tavern be mistaken for a castle? and this +was about the hour mentioned for the guard to turn out; yet not a red coat was +to be seen. But for all this, I could not, for one small discrepancy, condemn +the old family servant who had so faithfully served my own father before me; +and when I learned that this tavern went by the name of <i>“The Old Fort +Tavern;”</i> and when I was told that many of the old stones were yet in +the walls, I almost completely exonerated my guide-book from the +half-insinuated charge of misleading me. +</p> + +<p> +The next day was Sunday, and I had it all to myself; and now, thought I, my +guide-book and I shall have a famous ramble up street and down lane, even unto +the furthest limits of this Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +I rose bright and early; from head to foot performed my ablutions “with +Eastern scrupulosity,” and I arrayed myself in my red shirt and +shooting-jacket, and the sportsman’s pantaloons; and crowned my entire +man with the tarpaulin; so that from this curious combination of clothing, and +particularly from my red shirt, I must have looked like a very strange compound +indeed: three parts sportsman, and two soldier, to one of the sailor. +</p> + +<p> +My shipmates, of course, made merry at my appearance; but I heeded them not; +and after breakfast, jumped ashore, full of brilliant anticipations. +</p> + +<p> +My gait was erect, and I was rather tall for my age; and that may have been the +reason why, as I was rapidly walking along the dock, a drunken sailor passing, +exclaimed, <i>“Eyes right! quick step there!”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Another fellow stopped me to know whether I was going fox-hunting; and one of +the dock-police, stationed at the gates, after peeping out upon me from his +sentry box, a snug little den, furnished with benches and newspapers, and hung +round with storm jackets and oiled capes, issued forth in a great hurry, +crossed my path as I was emerging into the street, and commanded me to +<i>halt!</i> I obeyed; when scanning my appearance pertinaciously, he desired +to know where I got that tarpaulin hat, not being able to account for the +phenomenon of its roofing the head of a broken-down fox-hunter. But I pointed +to my ship, which lay at no great distance; when remarking from my voice that I +was a Yankee, this faithful functionary permitted me to pass. +</p> + +<p> +It must be known that the police stationed at the gates of the docks are +extremely observant of strangers going out; as many thefts are perpetrated on +board the ships; and if they chance to see any thing suspicious, they probe +into it without mercy. Thus, the old men who buy <i>“shakings,”</i> +and rubbish from vessels, must turn their bags wrong side out before the +police, ere they are allowed to go outside the walls. And often they will +search a suspicious looking fellow’s clothes, even if he be a very thin +man, with attenuated and almost imperceptible pockets. +</p> + +<p> +But where was I going? +</p> + +<p> +I will tell. My intention was in the first place, to visit Riddough’s +Hotel, where my father had stopped, more than thirty years before: and then, +with the map in my hand, follow him through all the town, according to the +dotted lines in the diagram. For thus would I be performing a filial pilgrimage +to spots which would be hallowed in my eyes. +</p> + +<p> +At last, when I found myself going down Old Hall-street toward Lord-street, +where the hotel was situated, according to my authority; and when, taking out +my map, I found that Old Hall-street was marked there, through its whole extent +with my father’s pen; a thousand fond, affectionate emotions rushed +around my heart. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, in this very street, thought I, nay, on this very flagging my father +walked. Then I almost wept, when I looked down on my sorry apparel, and marked +how the people regarded me; the men staring at so grotesque a young stranger, +and the old ladies, in beaver hats and ruffles, crossing the walk a little to +shun me. +</p> + +<p> +How differently my father must have appeared; perhaps in a blue coat, buff +vest, and Hessian boots. And little did he think, that a son of his would ever +visit Liverpool as a poor friendless sailor-boy. But I was not born then: no, +when he walked this flagging, I was not so much as thought of; I was not +included in the census of the universe. My own father did not know me then; and +had never seen, or heard, or so much as dreamed of me. And that thought had a +touch of sadness to me; for if it had certainly been, that my own parent, at +one time, never cast a thought upon me, how might it be with me hereafter? +Poor, poor Wellingborough! thought I, miserable boy! you are indeed friendless +and forlorn. Here you wander a stranger in a strange town, and the very thought +of your father’s having been here before you, but carries with it the +reflection that, he then knew you not, nor cared for you one whit. +</p> + +<p> +But dispelling these dismal reflections as well as I could, I pushed on my way, +till I got to Chapel-street, which I crossed; and then, going under a +cloister-like arch of stone, whose gloom and narrowness delighted me, and +filled my Yankee soul with romantic thoughts of old Abbeys and Minsters, I +emerged into the fine quadrangle of the Merchants’ Exchange. +</p> + +<p> +There, leaning against the colonnade, I took out my map, and traced my father +right across Chapel-street, and actually through the very arch at my back, into +the paved square where I stood. +</p> + +<p> +So vivid was now the impression of his having been here, and so narrow the +passage from which he had emerged, that I felt like running on, and overtaking +him around the Town Hall adjoining, at the head of Castle-street. But I soon +checked myself, when remembering that he had gone whither no son’s search +could find him in this world. And then I thought of all that must have happened +to him since he paced through that arch. What trials and troubles he had +encountered; how he had been shaken by many storms of adversity, and at last +died a bankrupt. I looked at my own sorry garb, and had much ado to keep from +tears. +</p> + +<p> +But I rallied, and gazed round at the sculptured stonework, and turned to my +guide-book, and looked at the print of the spot. It was correct to a pillar; +but wanted the central ornament of the quadrangle. This, however, was but a +slight subsequent erection, which ought not to militate against the general +character of my friend for comprehensiveness. +</p> + +<p> +The ornament in question is a group of statuary in bronze, elevated upon a +marble pedestal and basement, representing Lord Nelson expiring in the arms of +Victory. One foot rests on a rolling foe, and the other on a cannon. Victory is +dropping a wreath on the dying admiral’s brow; while Death, under the +similitude of a hideous skeleton, is insinuating his bony hand under the +hero’s robe, and groping after his heart. A very striking design, and +true to the imagination; I never could look at Death without a shudder. +</p> + +<p> +At uniform intervals round the base of the pedestal, four naked figures in +chains, somewhat larger than life, are seated in various attitudes of +humiliation and despair. One has his leg recklessly thrown over his knee, and +his head bowed over, as if he had given up all hope of ever feeling better. +Another has his head buried in despondency, and no doubt looks mournfully out +of his eyes, but as his face was averted at the time, I could not catch the +expression. These woe-begone figures of captives are emblematic of +Nelson’s principal victories; but I never could look at their swarthy +limbs and manacles, without being involuntarily reminded of four African slaves +in the market-place. +</p> + +<p> +And my thoughts would revert to Virginia and Carolina; and also to the +historical fact, that the African slave-trade once constituted the principal +commerce of Liverpool; and that the prosperity of the town was once supposed to +have been indissolubly linked to its prosecution. And I remembered that my +father had often spoken to gentlemen visiting our house in New York, of the +unhappiness that the discussion of the abolition of this trade had occasioned +in Liverpool; that the struggle between sordid interest and humanity had made +sad havoc at the fire-sides of the merchants; estranged sons from sires; and +even separated husband from wife. And my thoughts reverted to my father’s +friend, the good and great Roscoe, the intrepid enemy of the trade; who in +every way exerted his fine talents toward its suppression; writing a poem +<i>(“the Wrongs of Africa”),</i> several pamphlets; and in his +place in Parliament, he delivered a speech against it, which, as coming from a +member for Liverpool, was supposed to have turned many votes, and had no small +share in the triumph of sound policy and humanity that ensued. +</p> + +<p> +How this group of statuary affected me, may be inferred from the fact, that I +never went through Chapel-street without going through the little arch to look +at it again. And there, night or day, I was sure to find Lord Nelson still +falling back; Victory’s wreath still hovering over his swordpoint; and +Death grim and grasping as ever; while the four bronze captives still lamented +their captivity. +</p> + +<p> +Now, as I lingered about the railing of the statuary, on the Sunday I have +mentioned, I noticed several persons going in and out of an apartment, opening +from the basement under the colonnade; and, advancing, I perceived that this +was a news-room, full of files of papers. My love of literature prompted me to +open the door and step in; but a glance at my soiled shooting-jacket prompted a +dignified looking personage to step up and shut the door in my face. I +deliberated a minute what I should do to him; and at last resolutely determined +to let him alone, and pass on; which I did; going down Castle-street (so called +from a castle which once stood there, said my guide-book), and turning down +into Lord. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at the foot of the latter street, I in vain looked round for the hotel. +How serious a disappointment was this may well be imagined, when it is +considered that I was all eagerness to behold the very house at which my father +stopped; where he slept and dined, smoked his cigar, opened his letters, and +read the papers. I inquired of some gentlemen and ladies where the missing +hotel was; but they only stared and passed on; until I met a mechanic, +apparently, who very civilly stopped to hear my questions and give me an +answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Riddough’s Hotel?” said he, “upon my word, I think I +have heard of such a place; let me see—yes, yes—that was the hotel +where my father broke his arm, helping to pull down the walls. My lad, you +surely can’t be inquiring for Riddough’s Hotel! What do you want to +find there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! nothing,” I replied, “I am much obliged for your +information”—and away I walked. +</p> + +<p> +Then, indeed, a new light broke in upon me concerning my guide-book; and all my +previous dim suspicions were almost confirmed. It was nearly half a century +behind the age! and no more fit to guide me about the town, than the map of +Pompeii. +</p> + +<p> +It was a sad, a solemn, and a most melancholy thought. The book on which I had +so much relied; the book in the old morocco cover; the book with the cocked-hat +corners; the book full of fine old family associations; the book with seventeen +plates, executed in the highest style of art; this precious book was next to +useless. Yes, the thing that had guided the father, could not guide the son. +And I sat down on a shop step, and gave loose to meditation. +</p> + +<p> +Here, now, oh, Wellingborough, thought I, learn a lesson, and never forget it. +This world, my boy, is a moving world; its Riddough’s Hotels are forever +being pulled down; it never stands still; and its sands are forever shifting. +This very harbor of Liverpool is gradually filling up, they say; and who knows +what your son (if you ever have one) may behold, when he comes to visit +Liverpool, as long after you as you come after his grandfather. And, +Wellingborough, as your father’s guidebook is no guide for you, neither +would yours (could you afford to buy a modern one to-day) be a true guide to +those who come after you. Guide-books, Wellingborough, are the least reliable +books in all literature; and nearly all literature, in one sense, is made up of +guide-books. Old ones tell us the ways our fathers went, through the +thoroughfares and courts of old; but how few of those former places can their +posterity trace, amid avenues of modem erections; to how few is the old +guide-book now a clew! Every age makes its own guidebooks, and the old ones are +used for waste paper. But there is one Holy Guide-Book, Wellingborough, that +will never lead you astray, if you but follow it aright; and some noble +monuments that remain, though the pyramids crumble. +</p> + +<p> +But though I rose from the door-step a sadder and a wiser boy, and though my +guide-book had been stripped of its reputation for infallibility, I did not +treat with contumely or disdain, those sacred pages which had once been a +beacon to my sire. +</p> + +<p> +No.—Poor old guide-book, thought I, tenderly stroking its back, and +smoothing the dog-ears with reverence; I will not use you with despite, old +Morocco! and you will yet prove a trusty conductor through many old streets in +the old parts of this town; even if you are at fault, now and then, concerning +a Riddough’s Hotel, or some other forgotten thing of the past. As I +fondly glanced over the leaves, like one who loves more than he chides, my eye +lighted upon a passage concerning <i>“The Old Dock,”</i> which much +aroused my curiosity. I determined to see the place without delay: and walking +on, in what I presumed to be the right direction, at last found myself before a +spacious and splendid pile of sculptured brown stone; and entering the porch, +perceived from incontrovertible tokens that it must be the Custom-house. After +admiring it awhile, I took out my guide-book again; and what was my amazement +at discovering that, according to its authority, I was entirely mistaken with +regard to this Custom-house; for precisely where I stood, <i>“The Old +Dock”</i> must be standing, and reading on concerning it, I met with this +very apposite passage:—<i>“The first idea that strikes the stranger +in coming to this dock, is the singularity of so great a number of ships afloat +in the very heart of the town, without discovering any connection with the +sea.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Here, now, was a poser! Old Morocco confessed that there was a good deal of +“singularity” about the thing; nor did he pretend to deny that it +was, without question, amazing, that this fabulous dock should seem to have no +<i>connection with the sea!</i> However, the same author went on to say, that +the <i>“astonished stranger must suspend his wonder for awhile, and turn +to the left.”</i> But, right or left, no place answering to the +description was to be seen. +</p> + +<p> +This was too confounding altogether, and not to be easily accounted for, even +by making ordinary allowances for the growth and general improvement of the +town in the course of years. So, guide-book in hand, I accosted a policeman +standing by, and begged him to tell me whether he was acquainted with any place +in that neighborhood called the <i>“Old Dock.”</i> The man looked +at me wonderingly at first, and then seeing I was apparently sane, and quite +civil into the bargain, he whipped his well-polished boot with his rattan, +pulled up his silver-laced coat-collar, and initiated me into a knowledge of +the following facts. +</p> + +<p> +It seems that in this place originally stood the <i>“pool,”</i> +from which the town borrows a part of its name, and which originally wound +round the greater part of the old settlements; that this pool was made into the +“Old Dock,” for the benefit of the shipping; but that, years ago, +it had been filled up, and furnished the site for the Custom-house before me. +</p> + +<p> +I now eyed the spot with a feeling somewhat akin to the Eastern traveler +standing on the brink of the Dead Sea. For here the doom of Gomorrah seemed +reversed, and a lake had been converted into substantial stone and mortar. +</p> + +<p> +Well, well, Wellingborough, thought I, you had better put the book into your +pocket, and carry it home to the Society of Antiquaries; it is several thousand +leagues and odd furlongs behind the march of improvement. Smell its old morocco +binding, Wellingborough; does it not smell somewhat mummy-ish? Does it not +remind you of Cheops and the Catacombs? I tell you it was written before the +lost books of Livy, and is cousin-german to that irrecoverably departed volume, +entitled, <i>“The Wars of the Lord”</i> quoted by Moses in the +Pentateuch. Put it up, Wellingborough, put it up, my dear friend; and hereafter +follow your nose throughout Liverpool; it will stick to you through thick and +thin: and be your ship’s mainmast and St. George’s spire your +landmarks. +</p> + +<p> +No!—And again I rubbed its back softly, and gently adjusted a loose leaf: +No, no, I’ll not give you up yet. Forth, old Morocco! and lead me in +sight of the venerable Abbey of Birkenhead; and let these eager eyes behold the +mansion once occupied by the old earls of Derby! +</p> + +<p> +For the book discoursed of both places, and told how the Abbey was on the +Cheshire shore, full in view from a point on the Lancashire side, covered over +with ivy, and brilliant with moss! And how the house of the noble Derby’s +was now a common jail of the town; and how that circumstance was full of +suggestions, and pregnant with wisdom! +</p> + +<p> +But, alas! I never saw the Abbey; at least none was in sight from the water: +and as for the house of the earls, I never saw that. +</p> + +<p> +Ah me, and ten times alas! am I to visit old England in vain? in the land of +Thomas-a-Becket and stout John of Gaunt, not to catch the least glimpse of +priory or castle? Is there nothing in all the British empire but these smoky +ranges of old shops and warehouses? is Liverpool but a brick-kiln? Why, no +buildings here look so ancient as the old gable-pointed mansion of my maternal +grandfather at home, whose bricks were brought from Holland long before the +revolutionary war! Tis a deceit—a gull—a sham—a hoax! This +boasted England is no older than the State of New York: if it is, show me the +proofs—point out the vouchers. Where’s the tower of Julius Caesar? +Where’s the Roman wall? Show me Stonehenge! +</p> + +<p> +But, Wellingborough, I remonstrated with myself, you are only in Liverpool; the +old monuments lie to the north, south, east, and west of you; you are but a +sailor-boy, and you can not expect to be a great tourist, and visit the +antiquities, in that preposterous shooting-jacket of yours. Indeed, you can +not, my boy. +</p> + +<p> +True, true—that’s it. I am not the traveler my father was. I am +only a common-carrier across the Atlantic. +</p> + +<p> +After a weary day’s walk, I at last arrived at the sign of the Baltimore +Clipper to supper; and Handsome Mary poured me out a brimmer of tea, in which, +for the time, I drowned all my melancholy. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap32"></a>CHAPTER XXXII.<br/> +THE DOCKS</h2> + +<p> +For more than six weeks, the ship Highlander lay in Prince’s Dock; and +during that time, besides making observations upon things immediately around +me, I made sundry excursions to the neighboring docks, for I never tired of +admiring them. +</p> + +<p> +Previous to this, having only seen the miserable wooden wharves, and slip-shod, +shambling piers of New York, the sight of these mighty docks filled my young +mind with wonder and delight. In New York, to be sure, I could not but be +struck with the long line of shipping, and tangled thicket of masts along the +East River; yet, my admiration had been much abated by those irregular, +unsightly wharves, which, I am sure, are a reproach and disgrace to the city +that tolerates them. +</p> + +<p> +Whereas, in Liverpool, I beheld long China walls of masonry; vast piers of +stone; and a succession of granite-rimmed docks, completely inclosed, and many +of them communicating, which almost recalled to mind the great American chain +of lakes: Ontario, Erie, St. Clair, Huron, Michigan, and Superior. The extent +and solidity of these structures, seemed equal to what I had read of the old +Pyramids of Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +Liverpool may justly claim to have originated the model of the “Wet +Dock,”<a href="#fn1" name="fnref1" id="fnref1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> so +called, of the present day; and every thing that is connected with its design, +construction, regulation, and improvement. Even London was induced to copy +after Liverpool, and Havre followed her example. In magnitude, cost, and +durability, the docks of Liverpool, even at the present day surpass all others +in the world. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn1" id="fn1"></a> <a href="#fnref1">[1]</a> +This term—<i>Wet Dock</i>—did not originate, (as has been +erroneously opined by the otherwise learned Bardoldi); from the fact, that +persons falling into one, never escaped without a soaking; but it is simply +used, in order to distinguish these docks from the <i>Dry-Dock</i>, where the +bottoms of ships are repaired. +</p> + +<p> +The first dock built by the town was the <i>“Old Dock,”</i> alluded +to in my Sunday stroll with my guide-book. This was erected in 1710, since +which period has gradually arisen that long line of dock-masonry, now flanking +the Liverpool side of the Mersey. +</p> + +<p> +For miles you may walk along that river-side, passing dock after dock, like a +chain of immense fortresses:—Prince’s, George’s, Salt-House, +Clarence, Brunswick, Trafalgar, King’s, Queen’s, and many more. +</p> + +<p> +In a spirit of patriotic gratitude to those naval heroes, who by their valor +did so much to protect the commerce of Britain, in which Liverpool held so +large a stake; the town, long since, bestowed upon its more modern streets, +certain illustrious names, that Broadway might be proud of:—Duncan, +Nelson, Rodney, St. Vincent, Nile. +</p> + +<p> +But it is a pity, I think, that they had not bestowed these noble names upon +their noble docks; so that they might have been as a rank and file of most fit +monuments to perpetuate the names of the heroes, in connection with the +commerce they defended. +</p> + +<p> +And how much better would such stirring monuments be; full of life and +commotion; than hermit obelisks of Luxor, and idle towers of stone; which, +useless to the world in themselves, vainly hope to eternize a name, by having +it carved, solitary and alone, in their granite. Such monuments are cenotaphs +indeed; founded far away from the true body of the fame of the hero; who, if he +be truly a hero, must still be linked with the living interests of his race; +for the true fame is something free, easy, social, and companionable. They are +but tomb-stones, that commemorate his death, but celebrate not his life. It is +well enough that over the inglorious and thrice miserable grave of a Dives, +some vast marble column should be reared, recording the fact of his having +lived and died; for such records are indispensable to preserve his shrunken +memory among men; though that memory must soon crumble away with the marble, +and mix with the stagnant oblivion of the mob. But to build such a pompous +vanity over the remains of a hero, is a slur upon his fame, and an insult to +his ghost. And more enduring monuments are built in the closet with the letters +of the alphabet, than even Cheops himself could have founded, with all Egypt +and Nubia for his quarry. +</p> + +<p> +Among the few docks mentioned above, occur the names of the <i>King’s</i> +and <i>Queens.</i> At the time, they often reminded me of the two principal +streets in the village I came from in America, which streets once rejoiced in +the same royal appellations. But they had been christened previous to the +Declaration of Independence; and some years after, in a fever of freedom, they +were abolished, at an enthusiastic town-meeting, where King George and his lady +were solemnly declared unworthy of being immortalized by the village of +L—. A country antiquary once told me, that a committee of two barbers +were deputed to write and inform the distracted old gentleman of the fact. +</p> + +<p> +As the description of any one of these Liverpool docks will pretty much answer +for all, I will here endeavor to give some account of Prince’s Dock, +where the Highlander rested after her passage across the Atlantic. +</p> + +<p> +This dock, of comparatively recent construction, is perhaps the largest of all, +and is well known to American sailors, from the fact, that it is mostly +frequented by the American shipping. Here lie the noble New York packets, which +at home are found at the foot of Wall-street; and here lie the Mobile and +Savannah cotton ships and traders. +</p> + +<p> +This dock was built like the others, mostly upon the bed of the river, the +earth and rock having been laboriously scooped out, and solidified again as +materials for the quays and piers. From the river, Prince’s Dock is +protected by a long pier of masonry, surmounted by a massive wall; and on the +side next the town, it is bounded by similar walls, one of which runs along a +thoroughfare. The whole space thus inclosed forms an oblong, and may, at a +guess, be presumed to comprise about fifteen or twenty acres; but as I had not +the rod of a surveyor when I took it in, I will not be certain. +</p> + +<p> +The area of the dock itself, exclusive of the inclosed quays surrounding it, +may be estimated at, say, ten acres. Access to the interior from the streets is +had through several gateways; so that, upon their being closed, the whole dock +is shut up like a house. From the river, the entrance is through a water-gate, +and ingress to ships is only to be had, when the level of the dock coincides +with that of the river; that is, about the time of high tide, as the level of +the dock is always at that mark. So that when it is low tide in the river, the +keels of the ships inclosed by the quays are elevated more than twenty feet +above those of the vessels in the stream. This, of course, produces a striking +effect to a stranger, to see hundreds of immense ships floating high aloft in +the heart of a mass of masonry. +</p> + +<p> +Prince’s Dock is generally so filled with shipping, that the entrance of +a new-comer is apt to occasion a universal stir among all the older occupants. +The dock-masters, whose authority is declared by tin signs worn conspicuously +over their hats, mount the poops and forecastles of the various vessels, and +hail the surrounding strangers in all directions:— <i>“Highlander +ahoy! Cast off your bowline, and sheer alongside the +Neptune!”—“Neptune ahoy! get out a stern-line, and sheer +alongside the Trident!”—“Trident ahoy! get out a bowline, and +drop astern of the Undaunted!”</i> And so it runs round like a shock of +electricity; touch one, and you touch all. This kind of work irritates and +exasperates the sailors to the last degree; but it is only one of the +unavoidable inconveniences of inclosed docks, which are outweighed by +innumerable advantages. +</p> + +<p> +Just without the water-gate, is a basin, always connecting with the open river, +through a narrow entrance between pierheads. This basin forms a sort of +ante-chamber to the dock itself, where vessels lie waiting their turn to enter. +During a storm, the necessity of this basin is obvious; for it would be +impossible to <i>“dock”</i> a ship under full headway from a voyage +across the ocean. From the turbulent waves, she first glides into the +ante-chamber between the pier-heads and from thence into the docks. +</p> + +<p> +Concerning the cost of the docks, I can only state, that the <i>King’s +Dock,</i> comprehending but a comparatively small area, was completed at an +expense of some £20,000. +</p> + +<p> +Our old ship-keeper, a Liverpool man by birth, who had long followed the seas, +related a curious story concerning this dock. One of the ships which carried +over troops from England to Ireland in King William’s war, in 1688, +entered the King’s Dock on the first day of its being opened in 1788, +after an interval of just one century. She was a dark little brig, called the +<i>Port-a-Ferry.</i> And probably, as her timbers must have been frequently +renewed in the course of a hundred years, the name alone could have been all +that was left of her at the time. A paved area, very wide, is included within +the walls; and along the edge of the quays are ranges of iron sheds, intended +as a temporary shelter for the goods unladed from the shipping. Nothing can +exceed the bustle and activity displayed along these quays during the day; +bales, crates, boxes, and cases are being tumbled about by thousands of +laborers; trucks are coming and going; dock-masters are shouting; sailors of +all nations are singing out at their ropes; and all this commotion is greatly +increased by the resoundings from the lofty walls that hem in the din. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap33"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII.<br/> +THE SALT-DROGHERS, AND GERMAN EMIGRANT SHIPS</h2> + +<p> +Surrounded by its broad belt of masonry, each Liverpool dock is a walled town, +full of life and commotion; or rather, it is a small archipelago, an epitome of +the world, where all the nations of Christendom, and even those of Heathendom, +are represented. For, in itself, each ship is an island, a floating colony of +the tribe to which it belongs. +</p> + +<p> +Here are brought together the remotest limits of the earth; and in the +collective spars and timbers of these ships, all the forests of the globe are +represented, as in a grand parliament of masts. Canada and New Zealand send +their pines; America her live oak; India her teak; Norway her spruce; and the +Right Honorable Mahogany, member for Honduras and Campeachy, is seen at his +post by the wheel. Here, under the beneficent sway of the Genius of Commerce, +all climes and countries embrace; and yard-arm touches yard-arm in brotherly +love. +</p> + +<p> +A Liverpool dock is a grand caravansary inn, and hotel, on the spacious and +liberal plan of the <i>Astor House.</i> Here ships are lodged at a moderate +charge, and payment is not demanded till the time of departure. Here they are +comfortably housed and provided for; sheltered from all weathers and secured +from all calamities. For I can hardly credit a story I have heard, that +sometimes, in heavy gales, ships lying in the very middle of the docks have +lost their top-gallant-masts. Whatever the toils and hardships encountered on +the voyage, whether they come from Iceland or the coast of New Guinea, here +their sufferings are ended, and they take their ease in their watery inn. +</p> + +<p> +I know not how many hours I spent in gazing at the shipping in Prince’s +Dock, and speculating concerning their past voyages and future prospects in +life. Some had just arrived from the most distant ports, worn, battered, and +disabled; others were all a-taunt-o—spruce, gay, and brilliant, in +readiness for sea. +</p> + +<p> +Every day the Highlander had some new neighbor. A black brig from Glasgow, with +its crew of sober Scotch caps, and its staid, thrifty-looking skipper, would be +replaced by a jovial French hermaphrodite, its forecastle echoing with songs, +and its quarter-deck elastic from much dancing. +</p> + +<p> +On the other side, perhaps, a magnificent New York Liner, huge as a +seventy-four, and suggesting the idea of a Mivart’s or Delmonico’s +afloat, would give way to a Sidney emigrant ship, receiving on board its live +freight of shepherds from the Grampians, ere long to be tending their flocks on +the hills and downs of New Holland. +</p> + +<p> +I was particularly pleased and tickled, with a multitude of little +salt-droghers, rigged like sloops, and not much bigger than a pilot-boat, but +with broad bows painted black, and carrying red sails, which looked as if they +had been pickled and stained in a tan-yard. These little fellows were +continually coming in with their cargoes for ships bound to America; and lying, +five or six together, alongside of those lofty Yankee hulls, resembled a parcel +of red ants about the carcass of a black buffalo. +</p> + +<p> +When loaded, these comical little craft are about level with the water; and +frequently, when blowing fresh in the river, I have seen them flying through +the foam with nothing visible but the mast and sail, and a man at the tiller; +their entire cargo being snugly secured under hatches. +</p> + +<p> +It was diverting to observe the self-importance of the skipper of any of these +diminutive vessels. He would give himself all the airs of an admiral on a +three-decker’s poop; and no doubt, thought quite as much of himself. And +why not? What could Caesar want more? Though his craft was none of the largest, +it was subject to <i>him;</i> and though his crew might only consist of +himself; yet if he governed it well, he achieved a triumph, which the moralists +of all ages have set above the victories of Alexander. +</p> + +<p> +These craft have each a little cabin, the prettiest, charmingest, most +delightful little dog-hole in the world; not much bigger than an old-fashioned +alcove for a bed. It is lighted by little round glasses placed in the deck; so +that to the insider, the ceiling is like a small firmament twinkling with +astral radiations. For tall men, nevertheless, the place is but ill-adapted; a +sitting, or recumbent position being indispensable to an occupancy of the +premises. Yet small, low, and narrow as the cabin is, somehow, it affords +accommodations to the skipper and his family. Often, I used to watch the tidy +good-wife, seated at the open little scuttle, like a woman at a cottage door, +engaged in knitting socks for her husband; or perhaps, cutting his hair, as he +kneeled before her. And once, while marveling how a couple like this found room +to turn in, below, I was amazed by a noisy irruption of cherry-cheeked young +tars from the scuttle, whence they came rolling forth, like so many curly +spaniels from a kennel. +</p> + +<p> +Upon one occasion, I had the curiosity to go on board a salt-drogher, and fall +into conversation with its skipper, a bachelor, who kept house all alone. I +found him a very sociable, comfortable old fellow, who had an eye to having +things cozy around him. It was in the evening; and he invited me down into his +sanctum to supper; and there we sat together like a couple in a box at an +oyster-cellar. +</p> + +<p> +“He, he,” he chuckled, kneeling down before a fat, moist, little +cask of beer, and holding a cocked-hat pitcher to the faucet—“You +see, Jack, I keep every thing down here; and nice times I have by myself. Just +before going to bed, it ain’t bad to take a nightcap, you know; eh! +Jack?—here now, smack your lips over that, my boy—have a +pipe?—but stop, let’s to supper first.” +</p> + +<p> +So he went to a little locker, a fixture against the side, and groping in it +awhile, and addressing it with—<i>“What cheer here, what +cheer?”</i> at last produced a loaf, a small cheese, a bit of ham, and a +jar of butter. And then placing a board on his lap, spread the table, the +pitcher of beer in the center. “Why that’s but a two legged +table,” said I, “let’s make it four.” +</p> + +<p> +So we divided the burthen, and supped merrily together on our knees. +</p> + +<p> +He was an old ruby of a fellow, his cheeks toasted brown; and it did my soul +good, to see the froth of the beer bubbling at his mouth, and sparkling on his +nut-brown beard. He looked so like a great mug of ale, that I almost felt like +taking him by the neck and pouring him out. +</p> + +<p> +“Now Jack,” said he, when supper was over, “now Jack, my boy, +do you smoke?—Well then, load away.” And he handed me a seal-skin +pouch of tobacco and a pipe. We sat smoking together in this little sea-cabinet +of his, till it began to look much like a state-room in Tophet; and +notwithstanding my host’s rubicund nose, I could hardly see him for the +fog. +</p> + +<p> +“He, he, my boy,” then said he—“I don’t never +have any bugs here, I tell ye: I smokes ’em all out every night before +going to bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where may you sleep?” said I, looking round, and seeing no +sign of a bed. +</p> + +<p> +“Sleep?” says he, “why I sleep in my jacket, that’s the +best counterpane; and I use my head for a pillow. He-he, funny, ain’t +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very funny,” says I. +</p> + +<p> +“Have some more ale?” says he; “plenty more.” “No +more, thank you,” says I; “I guess I’ll go;” for what +with the tobacco-smoke and the ale, I began to feel like breathing fresh air. +Besides, my conscience smote me for thus freely indulging in the pleasures of +the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, don’t go,” said he; “don’t go, my boy; +don’t go out into the damp; take an old Christian’s advice,” +laying his hand on my shoulder; “it won’t do. You see, by going out +now, you’ll shake off the ale, and get broad awake again; but if you stay +here, you’ll soon be dropping off for a nice little nap.” +</p> + +<p> +But notwithstanding these inducements, I shook my host’s hand and +departed. There was hardly any thing I witnessed in the docks that interested +me more than the German emigrants who come on board the large New York ships +several days before their sailing, to make every thing comfortable ere +starting. Old men, tottering with age, and little infants in arms; laughing +girls in bright-buttoned bodices, and astute, middle-aged men with pictured +pipes in their mouths, would be seen mingling together in crowds of five, six, +and seven or eight hundred in one ship. +</p> + +<p> +Every evening these countrymen of Luther and Melancthon gathered on the +forecastle to sing and pray. And it was exalting to listen to their fine +ringing anthems, reverberating among the crowded shipping, and rebounding from +the lofty walls of the docks. Shut your eyes, and you would think you were in a +cathedral. +</p> + +<p> +They keep up this custom at sea; and every night, in the dog-watch, sing the +songs of Zion to the roll of the great ocean-organ: a pious custom of a devout +race, who thus send over their hallelujahs before them, as they hie to the land +of the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +And among these sober Germans, my country counts the most orderly and valuable +of her foreign population. It is they who have swelled the census of her +Northwestern States; and transferring their ploughs from the hills of +Transylvania to the prairies of Wisconsin; and sowing the wheat of the Rhine on +the banks of the Ohio, raise the grain, that, a hundred fold increased, may +return to their kinsmen in Europe. +</p> + +<p> +There is something in the contemplation of the mode in which America has been +settled, that, in a noble breast, should forever extinguish the prejudices of +national dislikes. Settled by the people of all nations, all nations may claim +her for their own. You can not spill a drop of American blood without spilling +the blood of the whole world. Be he Englishman, Frenchman, German, Dane, or +Scot; the European who scoffs at an American, calls his own brother +<i>Raca,</i> and stands in danger of the judgment. We are not a narrow tribe of +men, with a bigoted Hebrew nationality—whose blood has been debased in +the attempt to ennoble it, by maintaining an exclusive succession among +ourselves. No: our blood is as the flood of the Amazon, made up of a thousand +noble currents all pouring into one. We are not a nation, so much as a world; +for unless we may claim all the world for our sire, like Melchisedec, we are +without father or mother. +</p> + +<p> +For who was our father and our mother? Or can we point to any Romulus and Remus +for our founders? Our ancestry is lost in the universal paternity; and Caesar +and Alfred, St. Paul and Luther, and Homer and Shakespeare are as much ours as +Washington, who is as much the world’s as our own. We are the heirs of +all time, and with all nations we divide our inheritance. On this Western +Hemisphere all tribes and people are forming into one federated whole; and +there is a future which shall see the estranged children of Adam restored as to +the old hearthstone in Eden. +</p> + +<p> +The other world beyond this, which was longed for by the devout before +Columbus’ time, was found in the New; and the deep-sea-lead, that first +struck these soundings, brought up the soil of Earth’s Paradise. Not a +Paradise then, or now; but to be made so, at God’s good pleasure, and in +the fullness and mellowness of time. The seed is sown, and the harvest must +come; and our children’s children, on the world’s jubilee morning, +shall all go with their sickles to the reaping. Then shall the curse of Babel +be revoked, a new Pentecost come, and the language they shall speak shall be +the language of Britain. Frenchmen, and Danes, and Scots; and the dwellers on +the shores of the Mediterranean, and in the regions round about; Italians, and +Indians, and Moors; there shall appear unto them cloven tongues as of fire. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap34"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV.<br/> +THE IRRAWADDY</h2> + +<p> +Among the various ships lying in Prince’s Dock, none interested me more +than the Irrawaddy, of Bombay, a <i>“country ship,”</i> which is +the name bestowed by Europeans upon the large native vessels of India. Forty +years ago, these merchantmen were nearly the largest in the world; and they +still exceed the generality. They are built of the celebrated teak wood, the +oak of the East, or in Eastern phrase, <i>“the King of the +Oaks.”</i> The Irrawaddy had just arrived from Hindostan, with a cargo of +cotton. She was manned by forty or fifty Lascars, the native seamen of India, +who seemed to be immediately governed by a countryman of theirs of a higher +caste. While his inferiors went about in strips of white linen, this dignitary +was arrayed in a red army-coat, brilliant with gold lace, a cocked hat, and +drawn sword. But the general effect was quite spoiled by his bare feet. +</p> + +<p> +In discharging the cargo, his business seemed to consist in flagellating the +crew with the flat of his saber, an exercise in which long practice had made +him exceedingly expert. The poor fellows jumped away with the tackle-rope, +elastic as cats. +</p> + +<p> +One Sunday, I went aboard of the Irrawaddy, when this oriental usher accosted +me at the gangway, with his sword at my throat. I gently pushed it aside, +making a sign expressive of the pacific character of my motives in paying a +visit to the ship. Whereupon he very considerately let me pass. +</p> + +<p> +I thought I was in Pegu, so strangely woody was the smell of the dark-colored +timbers, whose odor was heightened by the rigging of <i>kayar,</i> or cocoa-nut +fiber. +</p> + +<p> +The Lascars were on the forecastle-deck. Among them were Malays, Mahrattas, +Burmese, Siamese, and Cingalese. They were seated round “kids” full +of rice, from which, according to their invariable custom, they helped +themselves with one hand, the other being reserved for quite another purpose. +They were chattering like magpies in Hindostanee, but I found that several of +them could also speak very good English. They were a small-limbed, wiry, tawny +set; and I was informed made excellent seamen, though ill adapted to stand the +hardships of northern voyaging. +</p> + +<p> +They told me that seven of their number had died on the passage from Bombay; +two or three after crossing the Tropic of Cancer, and the rest met their fate +in the Channel, where the ship had been tost about in violent seas, attended +with cold rains, peculiar to that vicinity. Two more had been lost overboard +from the flying-jib-boom. +</p> + +<p> +I was condoling with a young English cabin-boy on board, upon the loss of these +poor fellows, when he said it was their own fault; they would never wear +monkey-jackets, but clung to their thin India robes, even in the bitterest +weather. He talked about them much as a farmer would about the loss of so many +sheep by the murrain. +</p> + +<p> +The captain of the vessel was an Englishman, as were also the three mates, +master and boatswain. These officers lived astern in the cabin, where every +Sunday they read the Church of England’s prayers, while the heathen at +the other end of the ship were left to their false gods and idols. And thus, +with Christianity on the quarter-deck, and paganism on the forecastle, the +Irrawaddy ploughed the sea. +</p> + +<p> +As if to symbolize this state of things, the <i>“fancy piece”</i> +astern comprised, among numerous other carved decorations, a cross and a miter; +while forward, on the bows, was a sort of devil for a figure-head—a +dragon-shaped creature, with a fiery red mouth, and a switchy-looking tail. +</p> + +<p> +After her cargo was discharged, which was done “to the sound of flutes +and soft recorders”—something as work is done in the navy to the +music of the boatswain’s pipe—the Lascars were set to +<i>“stripping the ship”</i> that is, to sending down all her spars +and ropes. +</p> + +<p> +At this time, she lay alongside of us, and the Babel on board almost drowned +our own voices. In nothing but their girdles, the Lascars hopped about aloft, +chattering like so many monkeys; but, nevertheless, showing much dexterity and +seamanship in their manner of doing their work. +</p> + +<p> +Every Sunday, crowds of well-dressed people came down to the dock to see this +singular ship; many of them perched themselves in the shrouds of the +neighboring craft, much to the wrath of Captain Riga, who left strict orders +with our old ship-keeper, to drive all strangers out of the Highlander’s +rigging. It was amusing at these times, to watch the old women with umbrellas, +who stood on the quay staring at the Lascars, even when they desired to be +private. These inquisitive old ladies seemed to regard the strange sailors as a +species of wild animal, whom they might gaze at with as much impunity, as at +leopards in the Zoological Gardens. +</p> + +<p> +One night I was returning to the ship, when just as I was passing through the +Dock Gate, I noticed a white figure squatting against the wall outside. It +proved to be one of the Lascars who was smoking, as the regulations of the +docks prohibit his indulging this luxury on board his vessel. Struck with the +curious fashion of his pipe, and the odor from it, I inquired what he was +smoking; he replied <i>“Joggerry,”</i> which is a species of weed, +used in place of tobacco. +</p> + +<p> +Finding that he spoke good English, and was quite communicative, like most +smokers, I sat down by <i>Dattabdool-mans, as</i> he called himself, and we +fell into conversation. So instructive was his discourse, that when we parted, +I had considerably added to my stock of knowledge. Indeed, it is a Godsend to +fall in with a fellow like this. He knows things you never dreamed of; his +experiences are like a man from the moon—wholly strange, a new +revelation. If you want to learn romance, or gain an insight into things +quaint, curious, and marvelous, drop your books of travel, and take a stroll +along the docks of a great commercial port. Ten to one, you will encounter +Crusoe himself among the crowds of mariners from all parts of the globe. +</p> + +<p> +But this is no place for making mention of all the subjects upon which I and my +Lascar friend mostly discoursed; I will only try to give his account of the +<i>teakwood</i> and <i>kayar rope,</i> concerning which things I was curious, +and sought information. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>“sagoon”</i> as he called the tree which produces the teak, +grows in its greatest excellence among the mountains of Malabar, whence large +quantities are sent to Bombay for shipbuilding. He also spoke of another kind +of wood, the <i>“sissor,”</i> which supplies most of the +<i>“shin-logs,”</i> or “knees,” and crooked timbers in +the <i>country ships.</i> The sagoon grows to an immense size; sometimes there +is fifty feet of trunk, three feet through, before a single bough is put forth. +Its leaves are very large; and to convey some idea of them, my Lascar likened +them to elephants’ ears. He said a purple dye was extracted from them, +for the purpose of staining cottons and silks. The wood is specifically heavier +than water; it is easily worked, and extremely strong and durable. But its +chief merit lies in resisting the action of the salt water, and the attacks of +insects; which resistance is caused by its containing a resinous oil called +<i>“poonja.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +To my surprise, he informed me that the Irrawaddy was wholly built by the +native shipwrights of India, who, he modestly asserted, surpassed the European +artisans. +</p> + +<p> +The rigging, also, was of native manufacture. As the <i>kayar,</i> of which it +is composed, is now getting into use both in England and America, as well for +ropes and rigging as for mats and rugs, my Lascar friend’s account of it, +joined to my own observations, may not be uninteresting. +</p> + +<p> +In India, it is prepared very much in the same way as in Polynesia. The +cocoa-nut is gathered while the husk is still green, and but partially ripe; +and this husk is removed by striking the nut forcibly, with both hands, upon a +sharp-pointed stake, planted uprightly in the ground. In this way a boy will +strip nearly fifteen hundred in a day. But the <i>kayar</i> is not made from +the husk, as might be supposed, but from the rind of the nut; which, after +being long soaked in water, is beaten with mallets, and rubbed together into +fibers. After this being dried in the sun, you may spin it, just like hemp, or +any similar substance. The fiber thus produced makes very strong and durable +ropes, extremely well adapted, from their lightness and durability, for the +running rigging of a ship; while the same causes, united with its great +strength and buoyancy, render it very suitable for large cables and hawsers. +</p> + +<p> +But the elasticity of the <i>kayar</i> ill fits it for the shrouds and +standing-rigging of a ship, which require to be comparatively firm. Hence, as +the Irrawaddy’s shrouds were all of this substance, the Lascar told me, +they were continually setting up or slacking off her standing-rigging, +according as the weather was cold or warm. And the loss of a foretopmast, +between the tropics, in a squall, he attributed to this circumstance. +</p> + +<p> +After a stay of about two weeks, the Irrawaddy had her heavy Indian spars +replaced with Canadian pine, and her <i>kayar</i> shrouds with hempen ones. She +then mustered her pagans, and hoisted sail for London. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap35"></a>CHAPTER XXXV.<br/> +GALLIOTS, COAST-OF-GUINEA-MAN, AND FLOATING CHAPEL</h2> + +<p> +Another very curious craft often seen in the Liverpool docks, is the Dutch +galliot, an old-fashioned looking gentleman, with hollow waist, high prow and +stern, and which, seen lying among crowds of tight Yankee traders, and pert +French brigantines, always reminded me of a cocked hat among modish beavers. +</p> + +<p> +The construction of the galliot has not altered for centuries; and the northern +European nations, Danes and Dutch, still sail the salt seas in this +flat-bottomed salt-cellar of a ship; although, in addition to these, they have +vessels of a more modern kind. +</p> + +<p> +They seldom paint the galliot; but scrape and varnish all its planks and spars, +so that all over it resembles the <i>“bright side”</i> or polished +<i>streak,</i> usually banding round an American ship. +</p> + +<p> +Some of them are kept scrupulously neat and clean, and remind one of a +well-scrubbed wooden platter, or an old oak table, upon which much wax and +elbow vigor has been expended. Before the wind, they sail well; but on a +bowline, owing to their broad hulls and flat bottoms, they make leeway at a sad +rate. +</p> + +<p> +Every day, some strange vessel entered Prince’s Dock; and hardly would I +gaze my fill at some outlandish craft from Surat or the Levant, ere a still +more outlandish one would absorb my attention. +</p> + +<p> +Among others, I remember, was a little brig from the Coast of Guinea. In +appearance, she was the ideal of a slaver; low, black, clipper-built about the +bows, and her decks in a state of most piratical disorder. +</p> + +<p> +She carried a long, rusty gun, on a swivel, amid-ships; and that gun was a +curiosity in itself. It must have been some old veteran, condemned by the +government, and sold for any thing it would fetch. It was an antique, covered +with half-effaced inscriptions, crowns, anchors, eagles; and it had two handles +near the trunnions, like those of a tureen. The knob on the breach was +fashioned into a dolphin’s head; and by a comical conceit, the touch-hole +formed the orifice of a human ear; and a stout tympanum it must have had, to +have withstood the concussions it had heard. +</p> + +<p> +The brig, heavily loaded, lay between two large ships in ballast; so that its +deck was at least twenty feet below those of its neighbors. Thus shut in, its +hatchways looked like the entrance to deep vaults or mines; especially as her +men were wheeling out of her hold some kind of ore, which might have been gold +ore, so scrupulous were they in evening the bushel measures, in which they +transferred it to the quay; and so particular was the captain, a dark-skinned +whiskerando, in a Maltese cap and tassel, in standing over the sailors, with +his pencil and memorandum-book in hand. +</p> + +<p> +The crew were a buccaneering looking set; with hairy chests, purple shirts, and +arms wildly tattooed. The mate had a wooden leg, and hobbled about with a +crooked cane like a spiral staircase. There was a deal of swearing on board of +this craft, which was rendered the more reprehensible when she came to moor +alongside the Floating Chapel. +</p> + +<p> +This was the hull of an old sloop-of-war, which had been converted into a +mariner’s church. A house had been built upon it, and a steeple took the +place of a mast. There was a little balcony near the base of the steeple, some +twenty feet from the water; where, on week-days, I used to see an old pensioner +of a tar, sitting on a camp-stool, reading his Bible. On Sundays he hoisted the +Bethel flag, and like the <i>muezzin</i> or cryer of prayers on the top of a +Turkish mosque, would call the strolling sailors to their devotions; not +officially, but on his own account; conjuring them not to make fools of +themselves, but muster round the pulpit, as they did about the capstan on a +man-of-war. This old worthy was the sexton. I attended the chapel several +times, and found there a very orderly but small congregation. The first time I +went, the chaplain was discoursing on future punishments, and making allusions +to the Tartarean Lake; which, coupled with the pitchy smell of the old hull, +summoned up the most forcible image of the thing which I ever experienced. +</p> + +<p> +The floating chapels which are to be found in some of the docks, form one of +the means which have been tried to induce the seamen visiting Liverpool to turn +their thoughts toward serious things. But as very few of them ever think of +entering these chapels, though they might pass them twenty times in the day, +some of the clergy, of a Sunday, address them in the open air, from the corners +of the quays, or wherever they can procure an audience. +</p> + +<p> +Whenever, in my Sunday strolls, I caught sight of one of these congregations, I +always made a point of joining it; and would find myself surrounded by a motley +crowd of seamen from all quarters of the globe, and women, and lumpers, and +dock laborers of all sorts. Frequently the clergyman would be standing upon an +old cask, arrayed in full canonicals, as a divine of the Church of England. +Never have I heard religious discourses better adapted to an audience of men, +who, like sailors, are chiefly, if not only, to be moved by the plainest of +precepts, and demonstrations of the misery of sin, as conclusive and undeniable +as those of Euclid. No mere rhetoric avails with such men; fine periods are +vanity. You can not touch them with tropes. They need to be pressed home by +plain facts. +</p> + +<p> +And such was generally the mode in which they were addressed by the clergy in +question: who, taking familiar themes for their discourses, which were leveled +right at the wants of their auditors, always succeeded in fastening their +attention. In particular, the two great vices to which sailors are most +addicted, and which they practice to the ruin of both body and soul; these +things, were the most enlarged upon. And several times on the docks, I have +seen a robed clergyman addressing a large audience of women collected from the +notorious lanes and alleys in the neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +Is not this as it ought to be? since the true calling of the reverend clergy is +like their divine Master’s;—not to bring the righteous, but sinners +to repentance. Did some of them leave the converted and comfortable +congregations, before whom they have ministered year after year; and plunge at +once, like St. Paul, into the infected centers and hearts of vice: <i>then</i> +indeed, would they find a strong enemy to cope with; and a victory gained over +<i>him,</i> would entitle them to a conqueror’s wreath. Better to save +one sinner from an obvious vice that is destroying him, than to indoctrinate +ten thousand saints. And as from every corner, in Catholic towns, the shrines +of Holy Mary and the Child Jesus perpetually remind the commonest wayfarer of +his heaven; even so should Protestant pulpits be founded in the market-places, +and at street corners, where the men of God might be heard by all of His +children. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap36"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI.<br/> +THE OLD CHURCH OF ST. NICHOLAS, AND THE DEAD-HOUSE</h2> + +<p> +The floating chapel recalls to mind the <i>“Old Church,”</i> well +known to the seamen of many generations, who have visited Liverpool. It stands +very near the docks, a venerable mass of brown stone, and by the town’s +people is called the Church of St. Nicholas. I believe it is the best preserved +piece of antiquity in all Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +Before the town rose to any importance, it was the only place of worship on +that side of the Mersey; and under the adjoining Parish of Walton was a +<i>chapel-of-ease;</i> though from the straight backed pews, there could have +been but little comfort taken in it. +</p> + +<p> +In old times, there stood in front of the church a statue of St. Nicholas, the +patron of mariners; to which all pious sailors made offerings, to induce his +saintship to grant them short and prosperous voyages. In the tower is a fine +chime of bells; and I well remember my delight at first hearing them on the +first Sunday morning after our arrival in the dock. It seemed to carry an +admonition with it; something like the premonition conveyed to young +Whittington by Bow Bells. <i>“Wellingborough! Wellingborough! you must +not forget to go to church, Wellingborough! Don’t forget, Wellingborough! +Wellingborough! don’t forget.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Thirty or forty years ago, these bells were rung upon the arrival of every +Liverpool ship from a foreign voyage. How forcibly does this illustrate the +increase of the commerce of the town! Were the same custom now observed, the +bells would seldom have a chance to cease. +</p> + +<p> +What seemed the most remarkable about this venerable old church, and what +seemed the most barbarous, and grated upon the veneration with which I regarded +this time-hallowed structure, was the condition of the grave-yard surrounding +it. From its close vicinity to the haunts of the swarms of laborers about the +docks, it is crossed and re-crossed by thoroughfares in all directions; and the +tomb-stones, not being erect, but horizontal (indeed, they form a complete +flagging to the spot), multitudes are constantly walking over the dead; their +heels erasing the death’s-heads and crossbones, the last mementos of the +departed. At noon, when the lumpers employed in loading and unloading the +shipping, retire for an hour to snatch a dinner, many of them resort to the +grave-yard; and seating themselves upon a tomb-stone use the adjoining one for +a table. Often, I saw men stretched out in a drunken sleep upon these slabs; +and once, removing a fellow’s arm, read the following inscription, which, +in a manner, was true to the life, if not to the death:— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HERE LYETH YE BODY OF<br/> +TOBIAS DRINKER. +</p> + +<p> +For two memorable circumstances connected with this church, I am indebted to my +excellent friend, Morocco, who tells me that in 1588 the Earl of Derby, coming +to his residence, and waiting for a passage to the Isle of Man, the corporation +erected and adorned a sumptuous stall in the church for his reception. And +moreover, that in the time of Cromwell’s wars, when the place was taken +by that mad nephew of King Charles, Prince Rupert, he converted the old church +into a military prison and stable; when, no doubt, another <i>“sumptuous +stall”</i> was erected for the benefit of the steed of some noble cavalry +officer. +</p> + +<p> +In the basement of the church is a Dead House, like the Morgue in Paris, where +the bodies of the drowned are exposed until claimed by their friends, or till +buried at the public charge. +</p> + +<p> +From the multitudes employed about the shipping, this dead-house has always +more or less occupants. Whenever I passed up Chapel-street, I used to see a +crowd gazing through the grim iron grating of the door, upon the faces of the +drowned within. And once, when the door was opened, I saw a sailor stretched +out, stark and stiff, with the sleeve of his frock rolled up, and showing his +name and date of birth tattooed upon his arm. It was a sight full of +suggestions; he seemed his own headstone. +</p> + +<p> +I was told that standing rewards are offered for the recovery of persons +falling into the docks; so much, if restored to life, and a less amount if +irrecoverably drowned. Lured by this, several horrid old men and women are +constantly prying about the docks, searching after bodies. I observed them +principally early in the morning, when they issued from their dens, on the same +principle that the rag-rakers, and rubbish-pickers in the streets, sally out +bright and early; for then, the night-harvest has ripened. +</p> + +<p> +There seems to be no calamity overtaking man, that can not be rendered +merchantable. Undertakers, sextons, tomb-makers, and hearse-drivers, get their +living from the dead; and in times of plague most thrive. And these miserable +old men and women hunted after corpses to keep from going to the church-yard +themselves; for they were the most wretched of starvelings. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap37"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII.<br/> +WHAT REDBURN SAW IN LAUNCELOTT’S-HEY </h2> + +<p> +The dead-house reminds me of other sad things; for in the vicinity of the docks +are many very painful sights. +</p> + +<p> +In going to our boarding-house, the sign of the Baltimore Clipper, I generally +passed through a narrow street called “Launcelott’s-Hey,” +lined with dingy, prison-like cotton warehouses. In this street, or rather +alley, you seldom see any one but a truck-man, or some solitary old +warehouse-keeper, haunting his smoky den like a ghost. +</p> + +<p> +Once, passing through this place, I heard a feeble wail, which seemed to come +out of the earth. It was but a strip of crooked side-walk where I stood; the +dingy wall was on every side, converting the mid-day into twilight; and not a +soul was in sight. I started, and could almost have run, when I heard that +dismal sound. It seemed the low, hopeless, endless wail of some one forever +lost. At last I advanced to an opening which communicated downward with deep +tiers of cellars beneath a crumbling old warehouse; and there, some fifteen +feet below the walk, crouching in nameless squalor, with her head bowed over, +was the figure of what had been a woman. Her blue arms folded to her livid +bosom two shrunken things like children, that leaned toward her, one on each +side. At first, I knew not whether they were alive or dead. They made no sign; +they did not move or stir; but from the vault came that soul-sickening wail. +</p> + +<p> +I made a noise with my foot, which, in the silence, echoed far and near; but +there was no response. Louder still; when one of the children lifted its head, +and cast upward a faint glance; then closed its eyes, and lay motionless. The +woman also, now gazed up, and perceived me; but let fall her eye again. They +were dumb and next to dead with want. How they had crawled into that den, I +could not tell; but there they had crawled to die. At that moment I never +thought of relieving them; for death was so stamped in their glazed and +unimploring eyes, that I almost regarded them as already no more. I stood +looking down on them, while my whole soul swelled within me; and I asked +myself, What right had any body in the wide world to smile and be glad, when +sights like this were to be seen? It was enough to turn the heart to gall; and +make a man-hater of a Howard. For who were these ghosts that I saw? Were they +not human beings? A woman and two girls? With eyes, and lips, and ears like any +queen? with hearts which, though they did not bound with blood, yet beat with a +dull, dead ache that was their life. +</p> + +<p> +At last, I walked on toward an open lot in the alley, hoping to meet there some +ragged old women, whom I had daily noticed groping amid foul rubbish for little +particles of dirty cotton, which they washed out and sold for a trifle. +</p> + +<p> +I found them; and accosting one, I asked if she knew of the persons I had just +left. She replied, that she did not; nor did she want to. I then asked another, +a miserable, toothless old woman, with a tattered strip of coarse baling stuff +round her body. Looking at me for an instant, she resumed her raking in the +rubbish, and said that she knew who it was that I spoke of; but that she had no +time to attend to beggars and their brats. Accosting still another, who seemed +to know my errand, I asked if there was no place to which the woman could be +taken. “Yes,” she replied, “to the church-yard.” I said +she was alive, and not dead. +</p> + +<p> +“Then she’ll never die,” was the rejoinder. +“She’s been down there these three days, with nothing to +eat;—that I know myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“She desarves it,” said an old hag, who was just placing on her +crooked shoulders her bag of pickings, and who was turning to totter off, +“that Betsy Jennings desarves it—was she ever married? tell me +that.” +</p> + +<p> +Leaving Launcelott’s-Hey, I turned into a more frequented street; and +soon meeting a policeman, told him of the condition of the woman and the girls. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s none of my business, Jack,” said he. “I +don’t belong to that street.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who does then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. But what business is it of yours? Are you not a +Yankee?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said I, “but come, I will help you remove that woman, +if you say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“There, now, Jack, go on board your ship and stick to it; and leave these +matters to the town.” +</p> + +<p> +I accosted two more policemen, but with no better success; they would not even +go with me to the place. The truth was, it was out of the way, in a silent, +secluded spot; and the misery of the three outcasts, hiding away in the ground, +did not obtrude upon any one. +</p> + +<p> +Returning to them, I again stamped to attract their attention; but this time, +none of the three looked up, or even stirred. While I yet stood irresolute, a +voice called to me from a high, iron-shuttered window in a loft over the way; +and asked what I was about. I beckoned to the man, a sort of porter, to come +down, which he did; when I pointed down into the vault. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, “what of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t we get them out?” said I, “haven’t you +some place in your warehouse where you can put them? have you nothing for them +to eat?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re crazy, boy,” said he; “do you suppose, that +Parkins and Wood want their warehouse turned into a hospital?” +</p> + +<p> +I then went to my boarding-house, and told Handsome Mary of what I had seen; +asking her if she could not do something to get the woman and girls removed; or +if she could not do that, let me have some food for them. But though a kind +person in the main, Mary replied that she gave away enough to beggars in her +own street (which was true enough) without looking after the whole +neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +Going into the kitchen, I accosted the cook, a little shriveled-up old +Welshwoman, with a saucy tongue, whom the sailors called <i>Brandy-Nan;</i> and +begged her to give me some cold victuals, if she had nothing better, to take to +the vault. But she broke out in a storm of swearing at the miserable occupants +of the vault, and refused. I then stepped into the room where our dinner was +being spread; and waiting till the girl had gone out, I snatched some bread and +cheese from a stand, and thrusting it into the bosom of my frock, left the +house. Hurrying to the lane, I dropped the food down into the vault. One of the +girls caught at it convulsively, but fell back, apparently fainting; the sister +pushed the other’s arm aside, and took the bread in her hand; but with a +weak uncertain grasp like an infant’s. She placed it to her mouth; but +letting it fall again, murmuring faintly something like “water.” +The woman did not stir; her head was bowed over, just as I had first seen her. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing how it was, I ran down toward the docks to a mean little sailor tavern, +and begged for a pitcher; but the cross old man who kept it refused, unless I +would pay for it. But I had no money. So as my boarding-house was some way off, +and it would be lost time to run to the ship for my big iron pot; under the +impulse of the moment, I hurried to one of the Boodle Hydrants, which I +remembered having seen running near the scene of a still smoldering fire in an +old rag house; and taking off a new tarpaulin hat, which had been loaned me +that day, filled it with water. +</p> + +<p> +With this, I returned to Launcelott’s-Hey; and with considerable +difficulty, like getting down into a well, I contrived to descend with it into +the vault; where there was hardly space enough left to let me stand. The two +girls drank out of the hat together; looking up at me with an unalterable, +idiotic expression, that almost made me faint. The woman spoke not a word, and +did not stir. While the girls were breaking and eating the bread, I tried to +lift the woman’s head; but, feeble as she was, she seemed bent upon +holding it down. Observing her arms still clasped upon her bosom, and that +something seemed hidden under the rags there, a thought crossed my mind, which +impelled me forcibly to withdraw her hands for a moment; when I caught a +glimpse of a meager little babe—the lower part of its body thrust into an +old bonnet. Its face was dazzlingly white, even in its squalor; but the closed +eyes looked like balls of indigo. It must have been dead some hours. +</p> + +<p> +The woman refusing to speak, eat, or drink, I asked one of the girls who they +were, and where they lived; but she only stared vacantly, muttering something +that could not be understood. +</p> + +<p> +The air of the place was now getting too much for me; but I stood deliberating +a moment, whether it was possible for me to drag them out of the vault. But if +I did, what then? They would only perish in the street, and here they were at +least protected from the rain; and more than that, might die in seclusion. +</p> + +<p> +I crawled up into the street, and looking down upon them again, almost repented +that I had brought them any food; for it would only tend to prolong their +misery, without hope of any permanent relief: for die they must very soon; they +were too far gone for any medicine to help them. I hardly know whether I ought +to confess another thing that occurred to me as I stood there; but it was +this—I felt an almost irresistible impulse to do them the last mercy, of +in some way putting an end to their horrible lives; and I should almost have +done so, I think, had I not been deterred by thoughts of the law. For I well +knew that the law, which would let them perish of themselves without giving +them one cup of water, would spend a thousand pounds, if necessary, in +convicting him who should so much as offer to relieve them from their miserable +existence. +</p> + +<p> +The next day, and the next, I passed the vault three times, and still met the +same sight. The girls leaning up against the woman on each side, and the woman +with her arms still folding the babe, and her head bowed. The first evening I +did not see the bread that I had dropped down in the morning; but the second +evening, the bread I had dropped that morning remained untouched. On the third +morning the smell that came from the vault was such, that I accosted the same +policeman I had accosted before, who was patrolling the same street, and told +him that the persons I had spoken to him about were dead, and he had better +have them removed. He looked as if he did not believe me, and added, that it +was not his street. +</p> + +<p> +When I arrived at the docks on my way to the ship, I entered the guard-house +within the walls, and asked for one of the captains, to whom I told the story; +but, from what he said, was led to infer that the Dock Police was distinct from +that of the town, and this was not the right place to lodge my information. +</p> + +<p> +I could do no more that morning, being obliged to repair to the ship; but at +twelve o’clock, when I went to dinner, I hurried into +Launcelott’s-Hey, when I found that the vault was empty. In place of the +women and children, a heap of quick-lime was glistening. +</p> + +<p> +I could not learn who had taken them away, or whither they had gone; but my +prayer was answered—they were dead, departed, and at peace. +</p> + +<p> +But again I looked down into the vault, and in fancy beheld the pale, shrunken +forms still crouching there. Ah! what are our creeds, and how do we hope to be +saved? Tell me, oh Bible, that story of Lazarus again, that I may find comfort +in my heart for the poor and forlorn. Surrounded as we are by the wants and +woes of our fellowmen, and yet given to follow our own pleasures, regardless of +their pains, are we not like people sitting up with a corpse, and making merry +in the house of the dead? +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap38"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII.<br/> +THE DOCK-WALL BEGGARS</h2> + +<p> +I might relate other things which befell me during the six weeks and more that +I remained in Liverpool, often visiting the cellars, sinks, and hovels of the +wretched lanes and courts near the river. But to tell of them, would only be to +tell over again the story just told; so I return to the docks. +</p> + +<p> +The old women described as picking dirty fragments of cotton in the empty lot, +belong to the same class of beings who at all hours of the day are to be seen +within the dock walls, raking over and over the heaps of rubbish carried ashore +from the holds of the shipping. +</p> + +<p> +As it is against the law to throw the least thing overboard, even a rope yarn; +and as this law is very different from similar laws in New York, inasmuch as it +is rigidly enforced by the dock-masters; and, moreover, as after discharging a +ship’s cargo, a great deal of dirt and worthless dunnage remains in the +hold, the amount of rubbish accumulated in the appointed receptacles for +depositing it within the walls is extremely large, and is constantly receiving +new accessions from every vessel that unlades at the quays. +</p> + +<p> +Standing over these noisome heaps, you will see scores of tattered wretches, +armed with old rakes and picking-irons, turning over the dirt, and making as +much of a rope-yarn as if it were a skein of silk. Their findings, +nevertheless, are but small; for as it is one of the immemorial perquisites of +the second mate of a merchant ship to collect, and sell on his own account, all +the condemned “old junk” of the vessel to which he belongs, he +generally takes good heed that in the buckets of rubbish carried ashore, there +shall be as few rope-yarns as possible. +</p> + +<p> +In the same way, the cook preserves all the odds and ends of pork-rinds and +beef-fat, which he sells at considerable profit; upon a six months’ +voyage frequently realizing thirty or forty dollars from the sale, and in large +ships, even more than that. It may easily be imagined, then, how desperately +driven to it must these rubbish-pickers be, to ransack heaps of refuse which +have been previously gleaned. +</p> + +<p> +Nor must I omit to make mention of the singular beggary practiced in the +streets frequented by sailors; and particularly to record the remarkable army +of paupers that beset the docks at particular hours of the day. +</p> + +<p> +At twelve o’clock the crews of hundreds and hundreds of ships issue in +crowds from the dock gates to go to their dinner in the town. This hour is +seized upon by multitudes of beggars to plant themselves against the outside of +the walls, while others stand upon the curbstone to excite the charity of the +seamen. The first time that I passed through this long lane of pauperism, it +seemed hard to believe that such an array of misery could be furnished by any +town in the world. +</p> + +<p> +Every variety of want and suffering here met the eye, and every vice showed +here its victims. Nor were the marvelous and almost incredible shifts and +stratagems of the professional beggars, wanting to finish this picture of all +that is dishonorable to civilization and humanity. +</p> + +<p> +Old women, rather mummies, drying up with slow starving and age; young girls, +incurably sick, who ought to have been in the hospital; sturdy men, with the +gallows in their eyes, and a whining lie in their mouths; young boys, +hollow-eyed and decrepit; and puny mothers, holding up puny babes in the glare +of the sun, formed the main features of the scene. +</p> + +<p> +But these were diversified by instances of peculiar suffering, vice, or art in +attracting charity, which, to me at least, who had never seen such things +before, seemed to the last degree uncommon and monstrous. +</p> + +<p> +I remember one cripple, a young man rather decently clad, who sat huddled up +against the wall, holding a painted board on his knees. It was a picture +intending to represent the man himself caught in the machinery of some factory, +and whirled about among spindles and cogs, with his limbs mangled and bloody. +This person said nothing, but sat silently exhibiting his board. Next him, +leaning upright against the wall, was a tall, pallid man, with a white bandage +round his brow, and his face cadaverous as a corpse. He, too, said nothing; but +with one finger silently pointed down to the square of flagging at his feet, +which was nicely swept, and stained blue, and bore this inscription in +chalk:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<i>“I have had no food for three days;<br/> +My wife and children are dying.”</i> +</p> + + +<p> +Further on lay a man with one sleeve of his ragged coat removed, showing an +unsightly sore; and above it a label with some writing. +</p> + +<p> +In some places, for the distance of many rods, the whole line of flagging +immediately at the base of the wall, would be completely covered with +inscriptions, the beggars standing over them in silence. +</p> + +<p> +But as you passed along these horrible records, in an hour’s time +destined to be obliterated by the feet of thousands and thousands of wayfarers, +you were not left unassailed by the clamorous petitions of the more urgent +applicants for charity. They beset you on every hand; catching you by the coat; +hanging on, and following you along; and, <i>for Heaven’s sake,</i> and +<i>for God’s sake,</i> and <i>for Christ’s sake,</i> beseeching of +you but <i>one ha’penny.</i> If you so much as glanced your eye on one of +them, even for an instant, it was perceived like lightning, and the person +never left your side until you turned into another street, or satisfied his +demands. Thus, at least, it was with the sailors; though I observed that the +beggars treated the town’s people differently. +</p> + +<p> +I can not say that the seamen did much to relieve the destitution which three +times every day was presented to their view. Perhaps habit had made them +callous; but the truth might have been that very few of them had much money to +give. Yet the beggars must have had some inducement to infest the dock walls as +they did. +</p> + +<p> +As an example of the caprice of sailors, and their sympathy with suffering +among members of their own calling, I must mention the case of an old man, who +every day, and all day long, through sunshine and rain, occupied a particular +corner, where crowds of tars were always passing. He was an uncommonly large, +plethoric man, with a wooden leg, and dressed in the nautical garb; his face +was red and round; he was continually merry; and with his wooden stump thrust +forth, so as almost to trip up the careless wayfarer, he sat upon a great pile +of monkey jackets, with a little depression in them between his knees, to +receive the coppers thrown him. And plenty of pennies were tost into his +poor-box by the sailors, who always exchanged a pleasant word with the old man, +and passed on, generally regardless of the neighboring beggars. +</p> + +<p> +The first morning I went ashore with my shipmates, some of them greeted him as +an old acquaintance; for that corner he had occupied for many long years. He +was an old man-of-war’s man, who had lost his leg at the battle of +Trafalgar; and singular to tell, he now exhibited his wooden one as a genuine +specimen of the oak timbers of Nelson’s ship, the Victory. +</p> + +<p> +Among the paupers were several who wore old sailor hats and jackets, and +claimed to be destitute tars; and on the strength of these pretensions demanded +help from their brethren; but Jack would see through their disguise in a +moment, and turn away, with no benediction. +</p> + +<p> +As I daily passed through this lane of beggars, who thronged the docks as the +Hebrew cripples did the Pool of Bethesda, and as I thought of my utter +inability in any way to help them, I could not but offer up a prayer, that some +angel might descend, and turn the waters of the docks into an elixir, that +would heal all their woes, and make them, man and woman, healthy and whole as +their ancestors, Adam and Eve, in the garden. +</p> + +<p> +Adam and Eve! If indeed ye are yet alive and in heaven, may it be no part of +your immortality to look down upon the world ye have left. For as all these +sufferers and cripples are as much your family as young Abel, so, to you, the +sight of the world’s woes would be a parental torment indeed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap39"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX.<br/> +THE BOOBLE-ALLEYS OF THE TOWN </h2> + +<p> +The same sights that are to be met with along the dock walls at noon, in a less +degree, though diversified with other scenes, are continually encountered in +the narrow streets where the sailor boarding-houses are kept. +</p> + +<p> +In the evening, especially when the sailors are gathered in great numbers, +these streets present a most singular spectacle, the entire population of the +vicinity being seemingly turned into them. Hand-organs, fiddles, and cymbals, +plied by strolling musicians, mix with the songs of the seamen, the babble of +women and children, and the groaning and whining of beggars. From the various +boarding-houses, each distinguished by gilded emblems outside—an anchor, +a crown, a ship, a windlass, or a dolphin—proceeds the noise of revelry +and dancing; and from the open casements lean young girls and old women, +chattering and laughing with the crowds in the middle of the street. Every +moment strange greetings are exchanged between old sailors who chance to +stumble upon a shipmate, last seen in Calcutta or Savannah; and the invariable +courtesy that takes place upon these occasions, is to go to the next +spirit-vault, and drink each other’s health. +</p> + +<p> +There are particular paupers who frequent particular sections of these streets, +and who, I was told, resented the intrusion of mendicants from other parts of +the town. +</p> + +<p> +Chief among them was a white-haired old man, stone-blind; who was led up and +down through the long tumult by a woman holding a little saucer to receive +contributions. This old man sang, or rather chanted, certain words in a +peculiarly long-drawn, guttural manner, throwing back his head, and turning up +his sightless eyeballs to the sky. His chant was a lamentation upon his +infirmity; and at the time it produced the same effect upon me, that my first +reading of Milton’s Invocation to the Sun did, years afterward. I can not +recall it all; but it was something like this, drawn out in an endless +groan— +</p> + +<p> +“Here goes the blind old man; blind, blind, blind; no more will he see +sun nor moon—no more see sun nor moon!” And thus would he pass +through the middle of the street; the woman going on in advance, holding his +hand, and dragging him through all obstructions; now and then leaving him +standing, while she went among the crowd soliciting coppers. +</p> + +<p> +But one of the most curious features of the scene is the number of sailor +ballad-singers, who, after singing their verses, hand you a printed copy, and +beg you to buy. One of these persons, dressed like a man-of-war’s-man, I +observed every day standing at a corner in the middle of the street. He had a +full, noble voice, like a church-organ; and his notes rose high above the +surrounding din. But the remarkable thing about this ballad-singer was one of +his arms, which, while singing, he somehow swung vertically round and round in +the air, as if it revolved on a pivot. The feat was unnaturally unaccountable; +and he performed it with the view of attracting sympathy; since he said that in +falling from a frigate’s mast-head to the deck, he had met with an +injury, which had resulted in making his wonderful arm what it was. +</p> + +<p> +I made the acquaintance of this man, and found him no common character. He was +full of marvelous adventures, and abounded in terrific stories of pirates and +sea murders, and all sorts of nautical enormities. He was a monomaniac upon +these subjects; he was a Newgate Calendar of the robberies and assassinations +of the day, happening in the sailor quarters of the town; and most of his +ballads were upon kindred subjects. He composed many of his own verses, and had +them printed for sale on his own account. To show how expeditious he was at +this business, it may be mentioned, that one evening on leaving the dock to go +to supper, I perceived a crowd gathered about the <i>Old Fort Tavern;</i> and +mingling with the rest, I learned that a woman of the town had just been killed +at the bar by a drunken Spanish sailor from Cadiz. The murderer was carried off +by the police before my eyes, and the very next morning the ballad-singer with +the miraculous arm, was singing the tragedy in front of the boarding-houses, +and handing round printed copies of the song, which, of course, were eagerly +bought up by the seamen. +</p> + +<p> +This passing allusion to the murder will convey some idea of the events which +take place in the lowest and most abandoned neighborhoods frequented by sailors +in Liverpool. The pestilent lanes and alleys which, in their vocabulary, go by +the names of Rotten-row, Gibraltar-place, and Booble-alley, are putrid with +vice and crime; to which, perhaps, the round globe does not furnish a parallel. +The sooty and begrimed bricks of the very houses have a reeking, Sodomlike, and +murderous look; and well may the shroud of coal-smoke, which hangs over this +part of the town, more than any other, attempt to hide the enormities here +practiced. These are the haunts from which sailors sometimes disappear forever; +or issue in the morning, robbed naked, from the broken doorways. These are the +haunts in which cursing, gambling, pickpocketing, and common iniquities, are +virtues too lofty for the infected gorgons and hydras to practice. Propriety +forbids that I should enter into details; but kidnappers, burkers, and +resurrectionists are almost saints and angels to them. They seem leagued +together, a company of miscreant misanthropes, bent upon doing all the malice +to mankind in their power. With sulphur and brimstone they ought to be burned +out of their arches like vermin. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap40"></a>CHAPTER XL.<br/> +PLACARDS, BRASS-JEWELERS, TRUCK-HORSES, AND STEAMERS</h2> + +<p> +As I wish to group together what fell under my observation concerning the +Liverpool docks, and the scenes roundabout, I will try to throw into this +chapter various minor things that I recall. +</p> + +<p> +The advertisements of pauperism chalked upon the flagging round the dock walls, +are singularly accompanied by a multitude of quite different announcements, +placarded upon the walls themselves. They are principally notices of the +approaching departure of <i>“superior, fast-sailing, coppered and +copper-fastened ships,”</i> for the United States, Canada, New South +Wales, and other places. Interspersed with these, are the advertisements of +Jewish clothesmen, informing the judicious seamen where he can procure of the +best and the cheapest; together with ambiguous medical announcements of the +tribe of quacks and empirics who prey upon all seafaring men. Not content with +thus publicly giving notice of their whereabouts, these indefatigable Sangrados +and pretended Samaritans hire a parcel of shabby workhouse-looking knaves, +whose business consists in haunting the dock walls about meal times, and +silently thrusting mysterious little billets—duodecimo editions of the +larger advertisements—into the astonished hands of the tars. +</p> + +<p> +They do this, with such a mysterious hang-dog wink; such a sidelong air; such a +villainous assumption of your necessities; that, at first, you are almost +tempted to knock them down for their pains. +</p> + +<p> +Conspicuous among the notices on the walls, are huge Italic inducements to all +seamen disgusted with the merchant service, to accept a round bounty, and +embark in her Majesty’s navy. +</p> + +<p> +In the British armed marine, in time of peace, they do not ship men for the +general service, as in the American navy; but for particular ships, going upon +particular cruises. Thus, the frigate Thetis may be announced as about to sail +under the command of that fine old sailor, and noble father to his crew, +<i>Lord George Flagstaff.</i> +</p> + +<p> +Similar announcements may be seen upon the walls concerning enlistments in the +army. And never did auctioneer dilate with more rapture upon the charms of some +country-seat put up for sale, than the authors of these placards do, upon the +beauty and salubrity of the distant climes, for which the regiments wanting +recruits are about to sail. Bright lawns, vine-clad hills, endless meadows of +verdure, here make up the landscape; and adventurous young gentlemen, fond of +travel, are informed, that here is a chance for them to see the world at their +leisure, and be paid for enjoying themselves into the bargain. The regiments +for India are promised plantations among valleys of palms; while to those +destined for New Holland, a novel sphere of life and activity is opened; and +the companies bound to Canada and Nova Scotia are lured by tales of summer +suns, that ripen grapes in December. No word of war is breathed; hushed is the +clang of arms in these announcements; and the sanguine recruit is almost +tempted to expect that pruning-hooks, instead of swords, will be the weapons he +will wield. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! is not this the cruel stratagem of Bruce at Bannockburn, who decoyed to +his war-pits by covering them over with green boughs? For instead of a farm at +the blue base of the Himalayas, the Indian recruit encounters the keen saber of +the Sikh; and instead of basking in sunny bowers, the Canadian soldier stands a +shivering sentry upon the bleak ramparts of Quebec, a lofty mark for the bitter +blasts from Baffin’s Bay and Labrador. There, as his eye sweeps down the +St. Lawrence, whose every billow is bound for the main that laves the shore of +Old England; as he thinks of his long term of enlistment, which sells him to +the army as Doctor Faust sold himself to the devil; how the poor fellow must +groan in his grief, and call to mind the church-yard stile, and his Mary. +</p> + +<p> +These army announcements are well fitted to draw recruits in Liverpool. Among +the vast number of emigrants, who daily arrive from all parts of Britain to +embark for the United States or the colonies, there are many young men, who, +upon arriving at Liverpool, find themselves next to penniless; or, at least, +with only enough money to carry them over the sea, without providing for future +contingencies. How easily and naturally, then, may such youths be induced to +enter upon the military life, which promises them a free passage to the most +distant and flourishing colonies, and certain pay for doing nothing; besides +holding out hopes of vineyards and farms, to be verified in the fullness of +time. For in a moneyless youth, the decision to leave home at all, and embark +upon a long voyage to reside in a remote clime, is a piece of adventurousness +only one removed from the spirit that prompts the army recruit to enlist. +</p> + +<p> +I never passed these advertisements, surrounded by crowds of gaping emigrants, +without thinking of rattraps. +</p> + +<p> +Besides the mysterious agents of the quacks, who privily thrust their little +notes into your hands, folded up like a powder; there are another set of +rascals prowling about the docks, chiefly at dusk; who make strange motions to +you, and beckon you to one side, as if they had some state secret to disclose, +intimately connected with the weal of the commonwealth. They nudge you with an +elbow full of indefinite hints and intimations; they glitter upon you an eye +like a Jew’s or a pawnbroker’s; they dog you like Italian +assassins. But if the blue coat of a policeman chances to approach, how quickly +they strive to look completely indifferent, as to the surrounding universe; how +they saunter off, as if lazily wending their way to an affectionate wife and +family. +</p> + +<p> +The first time one of these mysterious personages accosted me, I fancied him +crazy, and hurried forward to avoid him. But arm in arm with my shadow, he +followed after; till amazed at his conduct, I turned round and paused. +</p> + +<p> +He was a little, shabby, old man, with a forlorn looking coat and hat; and his +hand was fumbling in his vest pocket, as if to take out a card with his +address. Seeing me stand still he made a sign toward a dark angle of the wall, +near which we were; when taking him for a cunning foot-pad, I again wheeled +about, and swiftly passed on. But though I did not look round, I <i>felt</i> +him following me still; so once more I stopped. The fellow now assumed so +mystic and admonitory an air, that I began to fancy he came to me on some +warning errand; that perhaps a plot had been laid to blow up the Liverpool +docks, and he was some Monteagle bent upon accomplishing my flight. I was +determined to see what he was. With all my eyes about me, I followed him into +the arch of a warehouse; when he gazed round furtively, and silently showing me +a ring, whispered, “You may have it for a shilling; it’s pure +gold—I found it in the gutter—hush! don’t speak! give me the +money, and it’s yours.” +</p> + +<p> +“My friend,” said I, “I don’t trade in these articles; +I don’t want your ring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you? Then take that,” he whispered, in an intense +hushed passion; and I fell flat from a blow on the chest, while this infamous +jeweler made away with himself out of sight. This business transaction was +conducted with a counting-house promptitude that astonished me. +</p> + +<p> +After that, I shunned these scoundrels like the leprosy: and the next time I +was pertinaciously followed, I stopped, and in a loud voice, pointed out the +man to the passers-by; upon which he absconded; rapidly turning up into sight a +pair of obliquely worn and battered boot-heels. I could not help thinking that +these sort of fellows, so given to running away upon emergencies, must furnish +a good deal of work to the shoemakers; as they might, also, to the growers of +hemp and gallows-joiners. +</p> + +<p> +Belonging to a somewhat similar fraternity with these irritable merchants of +brass jewelry just mentioned, are the peddlers of Sheffield razors, mostly +boys, who are hourly driven out of the dock gates by the police; nevertheless, +they contrive to saunter back, and board the vessels, going among the sailors +and privately exhibiting their wares. Incited by the extreme cheapness of one +of the razors, and the gilding on the case containing it, a shipmate of mine +purchased it on the spot for a commercial equivalent of the price, in tobacco. +On the following Sunday, he used that razor; and the result was a pair of +tormented and tomahawked cheeks, that almost required a surgeon to dress them. +In old times, by the way, it was not a bad thought, that suggested the +propriety of a barber’s practicing surgery in connection with the +chin-harrowing vocation. +</p> + +<p> +Another class of knaves, who practice upon the sailors in Liverpool, are the +pawnbrokers, inhabiting little rookeries among the narrow lanes adjoining the +dock. I was astonished at the multitude of gilded balls in these streets, +emblematic of their calling. They were generally next neighbors to the gilded +grapes over the spirit-vaults; and no doubt, mutually to facilitate business +operations, some of these establishments have connecting doors inside, so as to +play their customers into each other’s hands. I often saw sailors in a +state of intoxication rushing from a spirit-vault into a pawnbroker’s; +stripping off their boots, hats, jackets, and neckerchiefs, and sometimes even +their pantaloons on the spot, and offering to pawn them for a song. Of course +such applications were never refused. But though on shore, at Liverpool, poor +Jack finds more sharks than at sea, he himself is by no means exempt from +practices, that do not savor of a rigid morality; at least according to law. In +tobacco smuggling he is an adept: and when cool and collected, often manages to +evade the Customs completely, and land goodly packages of the weed, which owing +to the immense duties upon it in England, commands a very high price. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we came to anchor in the river, before reaching the dock, three +Custom-house underlings boarded us, and coming down into the forecastle, +ordered the men to produce all the tobacco they had. Accordingly several pounds +were brought forth. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all?” asked the officers. +</p> + +<p> +“All,” said the men. +</p> + +<p> +“We will see,” returned the others. +</p> + +<p> +And without more ado, they emptied the chests right and left; tossed over the +bunks and made a thorough search of the premises; but discovered nothing. The +sailors were then given to understand, that while the ship lay in dock, the +tobacco must remain in the cabin, under custody of the chief mate, who every +morning would dole out to them one plug per head, as a security against their +carrying it ashore. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the men. +</p> + +<p> +But several of them had secret places in the ship, from whence they daily drew +pound after pound of tobacco, which they smuggled ashore in the manner +following. +</p> + +<p> +When the crew went to meals, each man carried at least one plug in his pocket; +<i>that</i> he had a right to; and as many more were hidden about his person as +he dared. Among the great crowds pouring out of the dock-gates at such hours, +of course these smugglers stood little chance of detection; although vigilant +looking policemen were always standing by. And though these +<i>“Charlies”</i> might suppose there were tobacco smugglers +passing; yet to hit the right man among such a throng, would be as hard, as to +harpoon a speckled porpoise, one of ten thousand darting under a ship’s +bows. +</p> + +<p> +Our forecastle was often visited by foreign sailors, who knowing we came from +America, were anxious to purchase tobacco at a cheap rate; for in Liverpool it +is about an American penny per pipe-full. Along the docks they sell an English +pennyworth, put up in a little roll like confectioners’ mottoes, with +poetical lines, or instructive little moral precepts printed in red on the +back. +</p> + +<p> +Among all the sights of the docks, the noble truck-horses are not the least +striking to a stranger. They are large and powerful brutes, with such sleek and +glossy coats, that they look as if brushed and put on by a valet every morning. +They march with a slow and stately step, lifting their ponderous hoofs like +royal Siam elephants. Thou shalt not lay stripes upon these Roman citizens; for +their docility is such, they are guided without rein or lash; they go or come, +halt or march on, at a whisper. So grave, dignified, gentlemanly, and courteous +did these fine truck-horses look—so full of calm intelligence and +sagacity, that often I endeavored to get into conversation with them, as they +stood in contemplative attitudes while their loads were preparing. But all I +could get from them was the mere recognition of a friendly neigh; though I +would stake much upon it that, could I have spoken in their language, I would +have derived from them a good deal of valuable information touching the docks, +where they passed the whole of their dignified lives. +</p> + +<p> +There are unknown worlds of knowledge in brutes; and whenever you mark a horse, +or a dog, with a peculiarly mild, calm, deep-seated eye, be sure he is an +Aristotle or a Kant, tranquilly speculating upon the mysteries in man. No +philosophers so thoroughly comprehend us as dogs and horses. They see through +us at a glance. And after all, what is a horse but a species of four-footed +dumb man, in a leathern overall, who happens to live upon oats, and toils for +his masters, half-requited or abused, like the biped hewers of wood and drawers +of water? But there is a touch of divinity even in brutes, and a special halo +about a horse, that should forever exempt him from indignities. As for those +majestic, magisterial truck-horses of the docks, I would as soon think of +striking a judge on the bench, as to lay violent hand upon their holy hides. +</p> + +<p> +It is wonderful what loads their majesties will condescend to draw. The truck +is a large square platform, on four low wheels; and upon this the lumpers pile +bale after bale of cotton, as if they were filling a large warehouse, and yet a +procession of three of these horses will tranquilly walk away with the whole. +</p> + +<p> +The truckmen themselves are almost as singular a race as their animals. Like +the Judiciary in England, they wear gowns,—not of the same cut and color +though,—which reach below their knees; and from the racket they make on +the pavements with their hob-nailed brogans, you would think they patronized +the same shoemaker with their horses. I never could get any thing out of these +truckmen. They are a reserved, sober-sided set, who, with all possible +solemnity, march at the head of their animals; now and then gently advising +them to sheer to the right or the left, in order to avoid some passing vehicle. +Then spending so much of their lives in the high-bred company of their horses, +seems to have mended their manners and improved their taste, besides imparting +to them something of the dignity of their animals; but it has also given to +them a sort of refined and uncomplaining aversion to human society. +</p> + +<p> +There are many strange stories told of the truck-horse. Among others is the +following: There was a parrot, that from having long been suspended in its cage +from a low window fronting a dock, had learned to converse pretty fluently in +the language of the stevedores and truckmen. One day a truckman left his +vehicle standing on the quay, with its back to the water. It was noon, when an +interval of silence falls upon the docks; and Poll, seeing herself face to face +with the horse, and having a mind for a chat, cried out to him, <i>“Back! +back! back!”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Backward went the horse, precipitating himself and truck into the water. +</p> + +<p> +Brunswick Dock, to the west of Prince’s, is one of the most interesting +to be seen. Here lie the various black steamers (so unlike the American boats, +since they have to navigate the boisterous Narrow Seas) plying to all parts of +the three kingdoms. Here you see vast quantities of produce, imported from +starving Ireland; here you see the decks turned into pens for oxen and sheep; +and often, side by side with these inclosures, Irish deck-passengers, thick as +they can stand, seemingly penned in just like the cattle. It was the beginning +of July when the Highlander arrived in port; and the Irish laborers were daily +coming over by thousands, to help harvest the English crops. +</p> + +<p> +One morning, going into the town, I heard a tramp, as of a drove of buffaloes, +behind me; and turning round, beheld the entire middle of the street filled by +a great crowd of these men, who had just emerged from Brunswick Dock gates, +arrayed in long-tailed coats of hoddin-gray, corduroy knee-breeches, and shod +with shoes that raised a mighty dust. Flourishing their Donnybrook shillelahs, +they looked like an irruption of barbarians. They were marching straight out of +town into the country; and perhaps out of consideration for the finances of the +corporation, took the middle of the street, to save the side-walks. +</p> + +<p> +“Sing <i>Langolee, and the Lakes of Killarney,”</i> cried one +fellow, tossing his stick into the air, as he danced in his brogans at the head +of the rabble. And so they went! capering on, merry as pipers. +</p> + +<p> +When I thought of the multitudes of Irish that annually land on the shores of +the United States and Canada, and, to my surprise, witnessed the additional +multitudes embarking from Liverpool to New Holland; and when, added to all +this, I daily saw these hordes of laborers, descending, thick as locusts, upon +the English corn-fields; I could not help marveling at the fertility of an +island, which, though her crop of potatoes may fail, never yet failed in +bringing her annual crop of men into the world. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap41"></a>CHAPTER XLI.<br/> +REDBURN ROVES ABOUT HITHER AND THITHER</h2> + +<p> +I do not know that any other traveler would think it worth while to mention +such a thing; but the fact is, that during the summer months in Liverpool, the +days are exceedingly lengthy; and the first evening I found myself walking in +the twilight after nine o’clock, I tried to recall my astronomical +knowledge, in order to account satisfactorily for so curious a phenomenon. But +the days in summer, and the nights in winter, are just as long in Liverpool as +at Cape Horn; for the latitude of the two places very nearly corresponds. +</p> + +<p> +These Liverpool days, however, were a famous thing for me; who, thereby, was +enabled after my day’s work aboard the Highlander, to ramble about the +town for several hours. After I had visited all the noted places I could +discover, of those marked down upon my father’s map, I began to extend my +rovings indefinitely; forming myself into a committee of one, to investigate +all accessible parts of the town; though so many years have elapsed, ere I have +thought of bringing in my report. +</p> + +<p> +This was a great delight to me: for wherever I have been in the world, I have +always taken a vast deal of lonely satisfaction in wandering about, up and +down, among out-of-the-way streets and alleys, and speculating upon the +strangers I have met. Thus, in Liverpool I used to pace along endless streets +of dwelling-houses, looking at the names on the doors, admiring the pretty +faces in the windows, and invoking a passing blessing upon the chubby children +on the door-steps. I was stared at myself, to be sure: but what of that? We +must give and take on such occasions. In truth, I and my shooting-jacket +produced quite a sensation in Liverpool: and I have no doubt, that many a +father of a family went home to his children with a curious story, about a +wandering phenomenon they had encountered, traversing the side-walks that day. +In the words of the old song, <i>“I cared for nobody, no not I, and +nobody cared for me.”</i> I stared my fill with impunity, and took all +stares myself in good part. +</p> + +<p> +Once I was standing in a large square, gaping at a splendid chariot drawn up at +a portico. The glossy horses quivered with good-living, and so did the +sumptuous calves of the gold-laced coachman and footmen in attendance. I was +particularly struck with the red cheeks of these men: and the many evidences +they furnished of their enjoying this meal with a wonderful relish. +</p> + +<p> +While thus standing, I all at once perceived, that the objects of my curiosity, +were making me an object of their own; and that they were gazing at me, as if I +were some unauthorized intruder upon the British soil. Truly, they had reason: +for when I now think of the figure I must have cut in those days, I only marvel +that, in my many strolls, my passport was not a thousand times demanded. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, I was only a forlorn looking mortal among tens of thousands of +rags and tatters. For in some parts of the town, inhabited by laborers, and +poor people generally; I used to crowd my way through masses of squalid men, +women, and children, who at this evening hour, in those quarters of Liverpool, +seem to empty themselves into the street, and live there for the time. I had +never seen any thing like it in New York. Often, I witnessed some curious, and +many very sad scenes; and especially I remembered encountering a pale, ragged +man, rushing along frantically, and striving to throw off his wife and +children, who clung to his arms and legs; and, in God’s name, conjured +him not to desert them. He seemed bent upon rushing down to the water, and +drowning himself, in some despair, and craziness of wretchedness. In these +haunts, beggary went on before me wherever I walked, and dogged me unceasingly +at the heels. Poverty, poverty, poverty, in almost endless vistas: and want and +woe staggered arm in arm along these miserable streets. +</p> + +<p> +And here, I must not omit one thing, that struck me at the time. It was the +absence of negroes; who in the large towns in the “free states” of +America, almost always form a considerable portion of the destitute. But in +these streets, not a negro was to be seen. All were whites; and with the +exception of the Irish, were natives of the soil: even Englishmen; as much +Englishmen, as the dukes in the House of Lords. This conveyed a strange +feeling: and more than any thing else, reminded me that I was not in my own +land. For <i>there,</i> such a being as a native beggar is almost unknown; and +to be a born American citizen seems a guarantee against pauperism; and this, +perhaps, springs from the virtue of a vote. +</p> + +<p> +Speaking of negroes, recalls the looks of interest with which negro-sailors are +regarded when they walk the Liverpool streets. In Liverpool indeed the negro +steps with a prouder pace, and lifts his head like a man; for here, no such +exaggerated feeling exists in respect to him, as in America. Three or four +times, I encountered our black steward, dressed very handsomely, and walking +arm in arm with a good-looking English woman. In New York, such a couple would +have been mobbed in three minutes; and the steward would have been lucky to +escape with whole limbs. Owing to the friendly reception extended to them, and +the unwonted immunities they enjoy in Liverpool, the black cooks and stewards +of American ships are very much attached to the place and like to make voyages +to it. +</p> + +<p> +Being so young and inexperienced then, and unconsciously swayed in some degree +by those local and social prejudices, that are the marring of most men, and +from which, for the mass, there seems no possible escape; at first I was +surprised that a colored man should be treated as he is in this town; but a +little reflection showed that, after all, it was but recognizing his claims to +humanity and normal equality; so that, in some things, we Americans leave to +other countries the carrying out of the principle that stands at the head of +our Declaration of Independence. +</p> + +<p> +During my evening strolls in the wealthier quarters, I was subject to a +continual mortification. It was the humiliating fact, wholly unforeseen by me, +that upon the whole, and barring the poverty and beggary, Liverpool, away from +the docks, was very much such a place as New York. There were the same sort of +streets pretty much; the same rows of houses with stone steps; the same kind of +side-walks and curbs; and the same elbowing, heartless-looking crowd as ever. +</p> + +<p> +I came across the Leeds Canal, one afternoon; but, upon my word, no one could +have told it from the Erie Canal at Albany. I went into St. John’s Market +on a Saturday night; and though it was strange enough to see that great roof +supported by so many pillars, yet the most discriminating observer would not +have been able to detect any difference between the articles exposed for sale, +and the articles exhibited in Fulton Market, New York. +</p> + +<p> +I walked down Lord-street, peering into the jewelers’ shops; but I +thought I was walking down a block in Broadway. I began to think that all this +talk about travel was a humbug; and that he who lives in a nut-shell, lives in +an epitome of the universe, and has but little to see beyond him. +</p> + +<p> +It is true, that I often thought of London’s being only seven or eight +hours’ travel by railroad from where I was; and that <i>there,</i> +surely, must be a world of wonders waiting my eyes: but more of London anon. +</p> + +<p> +Sundays were the days upon which I made my longest explorations. I rose bright +and early, with my whole plan of operations in my head. First walking into some +dock hitherto unexamined, and then to breakfast. Then a walk through the more +fashionable streets, to see the people going to church; and then I myself went +to church, selecting the goodliest edifice, and the tallest Kentuckian of a +spire I could find. +</p> + +<p> +For I am an admirer of church architecture; and though, perhaps, the sums spent +in erecting magnificent cathedrals might better go to the founding of +charities, yet since these structures are built, those who disapprove of them +in one sense, may as well have the benefit of them in another. +</p> + +<p> +It is a most Christian thing, and a matter most sweet to dwell upon and simmer +over in solitude, that any poor sinner may go to church wherever he pleases; +and that even St. Peter’s in Rome is open to him, as to a cardinal; that +St. Paul’s in London is not shut against him; and that the Broadway +Tabernacle, in New York, opens all her broad aisles to him, and will not even +have doors and thresholds to her pews, the better to allure him by an unbounded +invitation. I say, this consideration of the hospitality and democracy in +churches, is a most Christian and charming thought. It speaks whole volumes of +folios, and Vatican libraries, for Christianity; it is more eloquent, and goes +farther home than all the sermons of Massillon, Jeremy Taylor, Wesley, and +Archbishop Tillotson. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing daunted, therefore, by thinking of my being a stranger in the land; +nothing daunted by the architectural superiority and costliness of any +Liverpool church; or by the streams of silk dresses and fine broadcloth coats +flowing into the aisles, I used humbly to present myself before the sexton, as +a candidate for admission. He would stare a little, perhaps (one of them once +hesitated), but in the end, what could he do but show me into a pew; not the +most commodious of pews, to be sure; nor commandingly located; nor within very +plain sight or hearing of the pulpit. No; it was remarkable, that there was +always some confounded pillar or obstinate angle of the wall in the way; and I +used to think, that the sextons of Liverpool must have held a secret meeting on +my account, and resolved to apportion me the most inconvenient pew in the +churches under their charge. However, they always gave me a seat of some sort +or other; sometimes even on an oaken bench in the open air of the aisle, where +I would sit, dividing the attention of the congregation between myself and the +clergyman. The whole congregation seemed to know that I was a foreigner of +distinction. +</p> + +<p> +It was sweet to hear the service read, the organ roll, the sermon +preached—just as the same things were going on three thousand five +hundred miles off, at home! But then, the prayer in behalf of her majesty the +Queen, somewhat threw me back. Nevertheless, I joined in that prayer, and +invoked for the lady the best wishes of a poor Yankee. +</p> + +<p> +How I loved to sit in the holy hush of those brown old monastic aisles, +thinking of Harry the Eighth, and the Reformation! How I loved to go a roving +with my eye, all along the sculptured walls and buttresses; winding in among +the intricacies of the pendent ceiling, and wriggling my fancied way like a +wood-worm. I could have sat there all the morning long, through noon, unto +night. But at last the benediction would come; and appropriating my share of +it, I would slowly move away, thinking how I should like to go home with some +of the portly old gentlemen, with high-polished boots and Malacca canes, and +take a seat at their cosy and comfortable dinner-tables. But, alas! there was +no dinner for me except at the sign of the Baltimore Clipper. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the Sunday dinners that Handsome Mary served up were not to be scorned. The +roast beef of Old England abounded; and so did the immortal plum-puddings, and +the unspeakably capital gooseberry pies. But to finish off with that abominable +<i>“swipes”</i> almost spoiled all the rest: not that I myself +patronized <i>“swipes”</i> but my shipmates did; and every cup I +saw them drink, I could not choose but taste in imagination, and even then the +flavor was bad. +</p> + +<p> +On Sundays, at dinner-time, as, indeed, on every other day, it was curious to +watch the proceedings at the sign of the Clipper. The servant girls were +running about, mustering the various crews, whose dinners were spread, each in +a separate apartment; and who were collectively known by the names of their +ships. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are the <i>Arethusas?—</i>Here’s their beef been +smoking this half-hour.”—“Fly, Betty, my dear, here come the +<i>Splendids.”—</i> “Run, Molly, my love; get the +salt-cellars for the <i>Highlanders</i> .”—“You Peggy, +where’s the <i>Siddons’ pickle-pat?”—“I</i> say, +Judy, are you never coming with that pudding for the <i>Lord +Nelsons?”</i> +</p> + +<p> +On week days, we did not fare quite so well as on Sundays; and once we came to +dinner, and found two enormous bullock hearts smoking at each end of the +Highlanders’ table. Jackson was indignant at the outrage. +</p> + +<p> +He always sat at the head of the table; and this time he squared himself on his +bench, and erecting his knife and fork like flag-staffs, so as to include the +two hearts between them, he called out for Danby, the boarding-house keeper; +for although his wife Mary was in fact at the head of the establishment, yet +Danby himself always came in for the fault-findings. +</p> + +<p> +Danby obsequiously appeared, and stood in the doorway, well knowing the +philippics that were coming. But he was not prepared for the peroration of +Jackson’s address to him; which consisted of the two bullock hearts, +snatched bodily off the dish, and flung at his head, by way of a recapitulation +of the preceding arguments. The company then broke up in disgust, and dined +elsewhere. +</p> + +<p> +Though I almost invariably attended church on Sunday mornings, yet the rest of +the day I spent on my travels; and it was on one of these afternoon strolls, +that on passing through St. George’s-square, I found myself among a large +crowd, gathered near the base of George the Fourth’s equestrian statue. +</p> + +<p> +The people were mostly mechanics and artisans in their holiday clothes; but +mixed with them were a good many soldiers, in lean, lank, and dinnerless +undresses, and sporting attenuated rattans. These troops belonged to the +various regiments then in town. Police officers, also, were conspicuous in +their uniforms. At first perfect silence and decorum prevailed. +</p> + +<p> +Addressing this orderly throng was a pale, hollow-eyed young man, in a +snuff-colored surtout, who looked worn with much watching, or much toil, or too +little food. His features were good, his whole air was respectable, and there +was no mistaking the fact, that he was strongly in earnest in what he was +saying. +</p> + +<p> +In his hand was a soiled, inflammatory-looking pamphlet, from which he +frequently read; following up the quotations with nervous appeals to his +hearers, a rolling of his eyes, and sometimes the most frantic gestures. I was +not long within hearing of him, before I became aware that this youth was a +Chartist. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the crowd increased, and some commotion was raised, when I noticed +the police officers augmenting in number; and by and by, they began to glide +through the crowd, politely hinting at the propriety of dispersing. The first +persons thus accosted were the soldiers, who accordingly sauntered off, +switching their rattans, and admiring their high-polished shoes. It was plain +that the Charter did not hang very heavy round their hearts. For the rest, they +also gradually broke up; and at last I saw the speaker himself depart. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know why, but I thought he must be some despairing elder son, +supporting by hard toil his mother and sisters; for of such many political +desperadoes are made. +</p> + +<p> +That same Sunday afternoon, I strolled toward the outskirts of the town, and +attracted by the sight of two great Pompey’s pillars, in the shape of +black steeples, apparently rising directly from the soil, I approached them +with much curiosity. But looking over a low parapet connecting them, what was +my surprise to behold at my feet a smoky hollow in the ground, with rocky +walls, and dark holes at one end, carrying out of view several lines of iron +railways; while far beyond, straight out toward the open country, ran an +endless railroad. Over the place, a handsome Moorish arch of stone was flung; +and gradually, as I gazed upon it, and at the little side arches at the bottom +of the hollow, there came over me an undefinable feeling, that I had previously +seen the whole thing before. Yet how could that be? Certainly, I had never been +in Liverpool before: but then, that Moorish arch! surely I remembered that very +well. It was not till several months after reaching home in America, that my +perplexity upon this matter was cleared away. In glancing over an old number of +the Penny Magazine, there I saw a picture of the place to the life; and +remembered having seen the same print years previous. It was a representation +of the spot where the Manchester railroad enters the outskirts of the town. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap42"></a>CHAPTER XLII.<br/> +HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE <i>CROSS</i> OLD GENTLEMAN</h2> + +<p> +My adventure in the News-Room in the Exchange, which I have related in a +previous chapter, reminds me of another, at the Lyceum, some days after, which +may as well be put down here, before I forget it. +</p> + +<p> +I was strolling down Bold-street, I think it was, when I was struck by the +sight of a brown stone building, very large and handsome. The windows were +open, and there, nicely seated, with their comfortable legs crossed over their +comfortable knees, I beheld several sedate, happy-looking old gentlemen reading +the magazines and papers, and one had a fine gilded volume in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, this must be the Lyceum, thought I; let me see. So I whipped out my +guide-book, and opened it at the proper place; and sure enough, the building +before me corresponded stone for stone. I stood awhile on the opposite side of +the street, gazing at my picture, and then at its original; and often dwelling +upon the pleasant gentlemen sitting at the open windows; till at last I felt an +uncontrollable impulse to step in for a moment, and run over the news. +</p> + +<p> +I’m a poor, friendless sailor-boy, thought I, and they can not object; +especially as I am from a foreign land, and strangers ought to be treated with +courtesy. I turned the matter over again, as I walked across the way; and with +just a small tapping of a misgiving at my heart, I at last scraped my feet +clean against the curb-stone, and taking off my hat while I was yet in the open +air, slowly sauntered in. +</p> + +<p> +But I had not got far into that large and lofty room, filled with many +agreeable sights, when a crabbed old gentleman lifted up his eye from the +<i>London Times,</i> which words I saw boldly printed on the back of the large +sheet in his hand, and looking at me as if I were a strange dog with a muddy +hide, that had stolen out of the gutter into this fine apartment, he shook his +silver-headed cane at me fiercely, till the spectacles fell off his nose. +Almost at the same moment, up stepped a terribly cross man, who looked as if he +had a mustard plaster on his back, that was continually exasperating him; who +throwing down some papers which he had been filing, took me by my innocent +shoulders, and then, putting his foot against the broad part of my pantaloons, +wheeled me right out into the street, and dropped me on the walk, without so +much as offering an apology for the affront. I sprang after him, but in vain; +the door was closed upon me. +</p> + +<p> +These Englishmen have no manners, that’s plain, thought I; and I trudged +on down the street in a reverie. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap43"></a>CHAPTER XLIII.<br/> +HE TAKES A DELIGHTFUL RAMBLE INTO THE COUNTRY; AND MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF +THREE ADORABLE CHARMERS </h2> + +<p> +Who that dwells in America has not heard of the bright fields and green hedges +of England, and longed to behold them? Even so had it been with me; and now +that I was actually in England, I resolved not to go away without having a +good, long look at the open fields. +</p> + +<p> +On a Sunday morning I started, with a lunch in my pocket. It was a beautiful +day in July; the air was sweet with the breath of buds and flowers, and there +was a green splendor in the landscape that ravished me. Soon I gained an +elevation commanding a wide sweep of view; and meadow and mead, and woodland +and hedge, were all around me. +</p> + +<p> +Ay, ay! this was old England, indeed! I had found it at last—there it was +in the country! Hovering over the scene was a soft, dewy air, that seemed +faintly tinged with the green of the grass; and I thought, as I breathed my +breath, that perhaps I might be inhaling the very particles once respired by +Rosamond the Fair. +</p> + +<p> +On I trudged along the London road—smooth as an entry floor—and +every white cottage I passed, embosomed in honeysuckles, seemed alive in the +landscape. +</p> + +<p> +But the day wore on; and at length the sun grew hot; and the long road became +dusty. I thought that some shady place, in some shady field, would be very +pleasant to repose in. So, coming to a charming little dale, undulating down to +a hollow, arched over with foliage, I crossed over toward it; but paused by the +road-side at a frightful announcement, nailed against an old tree, used as a +gate-post— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“MAN-TRAPS AND SPRING-GUNS!” +</p> + +<p> +In America I had never heard of the like. What could it mean? They were not +surely <i>cannibals,</i> that dwelt down in that beautiful little dale, and +lived by catching men, like weasels and beavers in Canada! +</p> + +<p> +“A <i>man-trap!”</i> It must be so. The announcement could bear but +one meaning—that there was something near by, intended to catch human +beings; some species of mechanism, that would suddenly fasten upon the unwary +rover, and hold him by the leg like a dog; or, perhaps, devour him on the spot. +</p> + +<p> +Incredible! In a Christian land, too! Did that sweet lady, Queen Victoria, +permit such diabolical practices? Had her gracious majesty ever passed by this +way, and seen the announcement? +</p> + +<p> +And who put it there? +</p> + +<p> +The proprietor, probably. +</p> + +<p> +And what right had he to do so? +</p> + +<p> +Why, he owned the soil. +</p> + +<p> +And where are his title-deeds? +</p> + +<p> +In his strong-box, I suppose. +</p> + +<p> +Thus I stood wrapt in cogitations. +</p> + +<p> +You are a pretty fellow, Wellingborough, thought I to myself; you are a mighty +traveler, indeed:—stopped on your travels by a <i>man-trap!</i> Do you +think Mungo Park was so served in Africa? Do you think Ledyard was so entreated +in Siberia? Upon my word, you will go home not very much wiser than when you +set out; and the only excuse you can give, for not having seen more sights, +will be <i>man-traps—mantraps, my masters!</i> that frightened you! +</p> + +<p> +And then, in my indignation, I fell back upon first principles. What right has +this man to the soil he thus guards with dragons? What excessive effrontery, to +lay sole claim to a solid piece of this planet, right down to the earth’s +axis, and, perhaps, straight through to the antipodes! For a moment I thought I +would test his traps, and enter the forbidden Eden. +</p> + +<p> +But the grass grew so thickly, and seemed so full of sly things, that at last I +thought best to pace off. +</p> + +<p> +Next, I came to a hawthorn lane, leading down very prettily to a nice little +church; a mossy little church; a beautiful little church; just such a church as +I had always dreamed to be in England. The porch was viny as an arbor; the ivy +was climbing about the tower; and the bees were humming about the hoary old +head-stones along the walls. +</p> + +<p> +Any man-traps here? thought I—any spring-guns? +</p> + +<p> +No. +</p> + +<p> +So I walked on, and entered the church, where I soon found a seat. No Indian, +red as a deer, could have startled the simple people more. They gazed and they +gazed; but as I was all attention to the sermon, and conducted myself with +perfect propriety, they did not expel me, as at first I almost imagined they +might. +</p> + +<p> +Service over, I made my way through crowds of children, who stood staring at +the marvelous stranger, and resumed my stroll along the London Road. +</p> + +<p> +My next stop was at an inn, where under a tree sat a party of rustics, drinking +ale at a table. +</p> + +<p> +“Good day,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Good day; from Liverpool?” +</p> + +<p> +“I guess so.” +</p> + +<p> +“For London?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; not this time. I merely come to see the country.” +</p> + +<p> +At this, they gazed at each other; and I, at myself; having doubts whether I +might not look something like a horse-thief. +</p> + +<p> +“Take a seat,” said the landlord, a fat fellow, with his +wife’s apron on, I thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +And then, little by little, we got into a long talk: in the course of which, I +told who I was, and where I was from. I found these rustics a good-natured, +jolly set; and I have no doubt they found me quite a sociable youth. They +treated me to ale; and I treated them to stories about America, concerning +which, they manifested the utmost curiosity. One of them, however, was somewhat +astonished that I had not made the acquaintance of a brother of his, who had +resided somewhere on the banks of the Mississippi for several years past; but +among twenty millions of people, I had never happened to meet him, at least to +my knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +At last, leaving this party, I pursued my way, exhilarated by the lively +conversation in which I had shared, and the pleasant sympathies exchanged: and +perhaps, also, by the ale I had drunk:—fine old ale; yes, English ale, +ale brewed in England! And I trod English soil; and breathed English air; and +every blade of grass was an Englishman born. Smoky old Liverpool, with all its +pitch and tar was now far behind; nothing in sight but open meadows and fields. +</p> + +<p> +Come, Wellingborough, why not push on for London?— Hurra! what say you? +let’s have a peep at St. Paul’s? Don’t you want to see the +queen? Have you no longing to behold the duke? Think of Westminster Abbey, and +the Tunnel under the Thames! Think of Hyde Park, and the ladies! +</p> + +<p> +But then, thought I again, with my hands wildly groping in my two vacuums of +pockets—who’s to pay the bill?—You can’t beg your way, +Wellingborough; that would never do; for you are your father’s son, +Wellingborough; and you must not disgrace your family in a foreign land; you +must not turn pauper. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! Ah! it was indeed too true; there was no St. Paul’s or Westminster +Abbey for me; that was flat. +</p> + +<p> +Well, well, up heart, you’ll see it one of these days. +</p> + +<p> +But think of it! here I am on the very road that leads to the +Thames—think of <i>that!—</i>here I am—ay, treading in the +wheel-tracks of coaches that are bound for the metropolis!—It was too +bad; too bitterly bad. But I shoved my old hat over my brows, and walked on; +till at last I came to a green bank, deliriously shaded by a fine old tree with +broad branching arms, that stretched themselves over the road, like a hen +gathering her brood under her wings. Down on the green grass I threw myself and +there lay my head, like a last year’s nut. People passed by, on foot and +in carriages, and little thought that the sad youth under the tree was the +great-nephew of a late senator in the American Congress. +</p> + +<p> +Presently, I started to my feet, as I heard a gruff voice behind me from the +field, crying out—“What are you doing there, you young +rascal?—run away from the work’us, have ye? Tramp, or I’ll +set Blucher on ye!” +</p> + +<p> +And who was Blucher? A cut-throat looking dog, with his black bull-muzzle +thrust through a gap in the hedge. And his master? A sturdy farmer, with an +alarming cudgel in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, are you going to start?” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Presently,” said I, making off with great dispatch. When I had got +a few yards into the middle of the highroad (which belonged as much to me as it +did to the queen herself), I turned round, like a man on his own premises, and +said— “Stranger! if you ever visit America, just call at our house, +and you’ll always find there a dinner and a bed. Don’t fail.” +</p> + +<p> +I then walked on toward Liverpool, full of sad thoughts concerning the cold +charities of the world, and the infamous reception given to hapless young +travelers, in broken-down shooting-jackets. +</p> + +<p> +On, on I went, along the skirts of forbidden green fields; until reaching a +cottage, before which I stood rooted. +</p> + +<p> +So sweet a place I had never seen: no palace in Persia could be pleasanter; +there were flowers in the garden; and six red cheeks, like six moss-roses, +hanging from the casement. At the embowered doorway, sat an old man, +confidentially communing with his pipe: while a little child, sprawling on the +ground, was playing with his shoestrings. A hale matron, but with rather a prim +expression, was reading a journal by his side: and three charmers, three Peris, +three Houris! were leaning out of the window close by. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! Wellingborough, don’t you wish you could step in? +</p> + +<p> +With a heavy heart at his cheerful sigh, I was turning to go, when—is it +possible? the old man called me back, and invited me in. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come,” said he, “you look as if you had walked far; +come, take a bowl of milk. Matilda, my dear” (how my heart jumped), +“go fetch some from the dairy.” And the white-handed angel did +meekly obey, and handed <i>me—me,</i> the vagabond, a bowl of bubbling +milk, which I could hardly drink down, for gazing at the dew on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +As I live, I could have married that charmer on the spot! +</p> + +<p> +She was by far the most beautiful rosebud I had yet seen in England. But I +endeavored to dissemble my ardent admiration; and in order to do away at once +with any unfavorable impressions arising from the close scrutiny of my +miserable shooting-jacket, which was now taking place, I declared myself a +Yankee sailor from Liverpool, who was spending a Sunday in the country. +</p> + +<p> +“And have you been to church to-day, young man?” said the old lady, +looking daggers. +</p> + +<p> +“Good madam, I have; the little church down yonder, you know—a most +excellent sermon—I am much the better for it.” +</p> + +<p> +I wanted to mollify this severe looking old lady; for even my short experience +of old ladies had convinced me that they are the hereditary enemies of all +strange young men. +</p> + +<p> +I soon turned the conversation toward America, a theme which I knew would be +interesting, and upon which I could be fluent and agreeable. I strove to talk +in Addisonian English, and ere long could see very plainly that my polished +phrases were making a surprising impression, though that miserable +shooting-jacket of mine was a perpetual drawback to my claims to gentility. +</p> + +<p> +Spite of all my blandishments, however, the old lady stood her post like a +sentry; and to my inexpressible chagrin, kept the three charmers in the +background, though the old man frequently called upon them to advance. This +fine specimen of an old Englishman seemed to be quite as free from ungenerous +suspicions as his vinegary spouse was full of them. But I still lingered, +snatching furtive glances at the young ladies, and vehemently talking to the +old man about Illinois, and the river Ohio, and the fine farms in the Genesee +country, where, in harvest time, the laborers went into the wheat fields a +thousand strong. +</p> + +<p> +Stick to it, Wellingborough, thought I; don’t give the old lady time to +think; stick to it, my boy, and an invitation to tea will reward you. At last +it came, and the old lady abated her frowns. +</p> + +<p> +It was the most delightful of meals; the three charmers sat all on one side, +and I opposite, between the old man and his wife. The middle charmer poured out +the souchong, and handed me the buttered muffins; and such buttered muffins +never were spread on the other side of the Atlantic. The butter had an aromatic +flavor; by Jove, it was perfectly delicious. +</p> + +<p> +And there they sat—the charmers, I mean—eating these buttered +muffins in plain sight. I wished I was a buttered muffin myself. Every minute +they grew handsomer and handsomer; and I could not help thinking what a fine +thing it would be to carry home a beautiful English wife! how my friends would +stare! a lady from England! +</p> + +<p> +I might have been mistaken; but certainly I thought that Matilda, the one who +had handed me the milk, sometimes looked rather benevolently in the direction +where I sat. She certainly <i>did</i> look at my jacket; and I am constrained +to think at my face. Could it be possible she had fallen in love at first +sight? Oh, rapture! But oh, misery! that was out of the question; for what a +looking suitor was Wellingborough? +</p> + +<p> +At length, the old lady glanced toward the door, and made some observations +about its being yet a long walk to town. She handed me the buttered muffins, +too, as if performing a final act of hospitality; and in other fidgety ways +vaguely hinted her desire that I should decamp. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly I rose, and murmured my thanks, and bowed, and tried to be off; but as +quickly I turned, and bowed, and thanked, and lingered again and again. Oh, +charmers! oh, Peris! thought I, must I go? Yes, Wellingborough, you must; so I +made one desperate congee, and darted through the door. +</p> + +<p> +I have never seen them since: no, nor heard of them; but to this day I live a +bachelor on account of those ravishing charmers. +</p> + +<p> +As the long twilight was waning deeper and deeper into the night, I entered the +town; and, plodding my solitary way to the same old docks, I passed through the +gates, and scrambled my way among tarry smells, across the tiers of ships +between the quay and the Highlander. My only resource was my bunk; in I turned, +and, wearied with my long stroll, was soon fast asleep, dreaming of red cheeks +and roses. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap44"></a>CHAPTER XLIV.<br/> +REDBURN INTRODUCES MASTER HARRY BOLTON TO THE FAVORABLE CONSIDERATION OF THE +READER</h2> + +<p> +It was the day following my Sunday stroll into the country, and when I had been +in England four weeks or more, that I made the acquaintance of a handsome, +accomplished, but unfortunate youth, young Harry Bolton. He was one of those +small, but perfectly formed beings, with curling hair, and silken muscles, who +seem to have been born in cocoons. His complexion was a mantling brunette, +feminine as a girl’s; his feet were small; his hands were white; and his +eyes were large, black, and womanly; and, poetry aside, his voice was as the +sound of a harp. +</p> + +<p> +But where, among the tarry docks, and smoky sailor-lanes and by-ways of a +seaport, did I, a battered Yankee boy, encounter this courtly youth? +</p> + +<p> +Several evenings I had noticed him in our street of boarding-houses, standing +in the doorways, and silently regarding the animated scenes without. His +beauty, dress, and manner struck me as so out of place in such a street, that I +could not possibly divine what had transplanted this delicate exotic from the +conservatories of some Regent-street to the untidy potato-patches of Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +At last I suddenly encountered him at the sign of the Baltimore Clipper. He was +speaking to one of my shipmates concerning America; and from something that +dropped, I was led to imagine that he contemplated a voyage to my country. +Charmed with his appearance, and all eagerness to enjoy the society of this +incontrovertible son of a gentleman—a kind of pleasure so long debarred +me—I smoothed down the skirts of my jacket, and at once accosted him; +declaring who I was, and that nothing would afford me greater delight than to +be of the least service, in imparting any information concerning America that +he needed. +</p> + +<p> +He glanced from my face to my jacket, and from my jacket to my face, and at +length, with a pleased but somewhat puzzled expression, begged me to accompany +him on a walk. +</p> + +<p> +We rambled about St. George’s Pier until nearly midnight; but before we +parted, with uncommon frankness, he told me many strange things respecting his +history. +</p> + +<p> +According to his own account, Harry Bolton was a native of Bury St. Edmunds, a +borough of Suffolk, not very far from London, where he was early left an +orphan, under the charge of an only aunt. Between his aunt and himself, his +mother had divided her fortune; and young Harry thus fell heir to a portion of +about five thousand pounds. +</p> + +<p> +Being of a roving mind, as he approached his majority he grew restless of the +retirement of a country place; especially as he had no profession or business +of any kind to engage his attention. +</p> + +<p> +In vain did Bury, with all its fine old monastic attractions, lure him to abide +on the beautiful banks of her Larke, and under the shadow of her stately and +storied old Saxon tower. +</p> + +<p> +By all my rare old historic associations, breathed Bury; by my Abbey-gate, that +bears to this day the arms of Edward the Confessor; by my carved roof of the +old church of St. Mary’s, which escaped the low rage of the bigoted +Puritans; by the royal ashes of Mary Tudor, that sleep in my midst; by my +Norman ruins, and by all the old abbots of Bury, do not, oh Harry! abandon me. +Where will you find shadier walks than under my lime-trees? where lovelier +gardens than those within the old walls of my monastery, approached through my +lordly Gate? Or if, oh Harry! indifferent to my historic mosses, and caring not +for my annual verdure, thou must needs be lured by other tassels, and wouldst +fain, like the Prodigal, squander thy patrimony, then, go not away from old +Bury to do it. For here, on Angel-Hill, are my coffee and card-rooms, and +billiard saloons, where you may lounge away your mornings, and empty your glass +and your purse as you list. +</p> + +<p> +In vain. Bury was no place for the adventurous Harry, who must needs hie to +London, where in one winter, in the company of gambling sportsmen and dandies, +he lost his last sovereign. +</p> + +<p> +What now was to be done? His friends made interest for him in the requisite +quarters, and Harry was soon embarked for Bombay, as a midshipman in the East +India service; in which office he was known as a +<i>“guinea-pig,”</i> a humorous appellation then bestowed upon the +middies of the Company. And considering the perversity of his behavior, his +delicate form, and soft complexion, and that gold guineas had been his bane, +this appellation was not altogether, in poor Harry’s case, inapplicable. +</p> + +<p> +He made one voyage, and returned; another, and returned; and then threw up his +warrant in disgust. A few weeks’ dissipation in London, and again his +purse was almost drained; when, like many prodigals, scorning to return home to +his aunt, and amend—though she had often written him the kindest of +letters to that effect—Harry resolved to precipitate himself upon the New +World, and there carve out a fresh fortune. With this object in view, he packed +his trunks, and took the first train for Liverpool. Arrived in that town, he at +once betook himself to the docks, to examine the American shipping, when a new +crotchet entered his brain, born of his old sea reminiscences. It was to assume +duck browsers and tarpaulin, and gallantly cross the Atlantic as a sailor. +There was a dash of romance in it; a taking abandonment; and scorn of fine +coats, which exactly harmonized with his reckless contempt, at the time, for +all past conventionalities. +</p> + +<p> +Thus determined, he exchanged his trunk for a mahogany chest; sold some of his +superfluities; and moved his quarters to the sign of the Gold Anchor in +Union-street. +</p> + +<p> +After making his acquaintance, and learning his intentions, I was all anxiety +that Harry should accompany me home in the Highlander, a desire to which he +warmly responded. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was I without strong hopes that he would succeed in an application to the +captain; inasmuch as during our stay in the docks, three of our crew had left +us, and their places would remain unsupplied till just upon the eve of our +departure. +</p> + +<p> +And here, it may as well be related, that owing to the heavy charges to which +the American ships long staying in Liverpool are subjected, from the obligation +to continue the wages of their seamen, when they have little or no work to +employ them, and from the necessity of boarding them ashore, like lords, at +their leisure, captains interested in the ownership of their vessels, are not +at all indisposed to let their sailors abscond, if they please, and thus +forfeit their money; for they well know that, when wanted, a new crew is easily +to be procured, through the crimps of the port. +</p> + +<p> +Though he spake English with fluency, and from his long service in the vessels +of New York, was almost an American to behold, yet Captain Riga was in fact a +Russian by birth, though this was a fact that he strove to conceal. And though +extravagant in his personal expenses, and even indulging in luxurious habits, +costly as Oriental dissipation, yet Captain Riga was a niggard to others; as, +indeed, was evinced in the magnificent stipend of three dollars, with which he +requited my own valuable services. Therefore, as it was agreed between Harry +and me, that he should offer to ship as a <i>“boy,”</i> at the same +rate of compensation with myself, I made no doubt that, incited by the +cheapness of the bargain, Captain Riga would gladly close with him; and thus, +instead of paying sixteen dollars a month to a thorough-going tar, who would +consume all his rations, buy up my young blade of Bury, at the rate of half a +dollar a week; with the cheering prospect, that by the end of the voyage, his +fastidious palate would be the means of leaving a handsome balance of salt beef +and pork in the <i>harness-cask.</i> +</p> + +<p> +With part of the money obtained by the sale of a few of his velvet vests, +Harry, by my advice, now rigged himself in a Guernsey frock and man-of-war +browsers; and thus equipped, he made his appearance, one fine morning, on the +quarterdeck of the Highlander, gallantly doffing his virgin tarpaulin before +the redoubtable Riga. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner were his wishes made known, than I perceived in the captain’s +face that same bland, benevolent, and bewitchingly merry expression, that had +so charmed, but deceived me, when, with Mr. Jones, I had first accosted him in +the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Alas, Harry! thought I,—as I stood upon the forecastle looking astern +where they stood,—that <i>“gallant, gay deceiver”</i> shall +not altogether cajole you, if Wellingborough can help it. Rather than that +should be the case, indeed, I would forfeit the pleasure of your society across +the Atlantic. +</p> + +<p> +At this interesting interview the captain expressed a sympathetic concern +touching the sad necessities, which he took upon himself to presume must have +driven Harry to sea; he confessed to a warm interest in his future welfare; and +did not hesitate to declare that, in going to America, under such +circumstances, to seek his fortune, he was acting a manly and spirited part; +and that the voyage thither, as a sailor, would be an invigorating preparative +to the landing upon a shore, where he must battle out his fortune with Fate. +</p> + +<p> +He engaged him at once; but was sorry to say, that he could not provide him a +home on board till the day previous to the sailing of the ship; and during the +interval, he could not honor any drafts upon the strength of his wages. +</p> + +<p> +However, glad enough to conclude the agreement upon any terms at all, my young +blade of Bury expressed his satisfaction; and full of admiration at so urbane +and gentlemanly a sea-captain, he came forward to receive my congratulations. +</p> + +<p> +“Harry,” said I, “be not deceived by the fascinating +Riga—that gay Lothario of all inexperienced, sea-going youths, from the +capital or the country; he has a Janus-face, Harry; and you will not know him +when he gets you out of sight of land, and mouths his cast-off coats and +browsers. For <i>then</i> he is another personage altogether, and adjusts his +character to the shabbiness of his integuments. No more condolings and sympathy +then; no more blarney; he will hold you a little better than his boots, and +would no more think of addressing you than of invoking wooden Donald, the +figure-head on our bows.” +</p> + +<p> +And I further admonished my friend concerning our crew, particularly of the +diabolical Jackson, and warned him to be cautious and wary. I told him, that +unless he was somewhat accustomed to the rigging, and could furl a royal in a +squall, he would be sure to subject himself to a sort of treatment from the +sailors, in the last degree ignominious to any mortal who had ever crossed his +legs under mahogany. +</p> + +<p> +And I played the inquisitor, in cross-questioning Harry respecting the precise +degree in which he was a practical sailor;—whether he had a giddy head; +whether his arms could bear the weight of his body; whether, with but one hand +on a shroud, a hundred feet aloft in a tempest, he felt he could look right to +windward and beard it. +</p> + +<p> +To all this, and much more, Harry rejoined with the most off-hand and confident +air; saying that in his <i>“guinea-pig”</i> days, he had often +climbed the masts and handled the sails in a gentlemanly and amateur way; so he +made no doubt that he would very soon prove an expert tumbler in the +Highlander’s rigging. +</p> + +<p> +His levity of manner, and sanguine assurance, coupled with the constant sight +of his most unseamanlike person—more suited to the Queen’s +drawing-room than a ship’s forecastle-bred many misgivings in my mind. +But after all, every one in this world has his own fate intrusted to himself; +and though we may warn, and forewarn, and give sage advice, and indulge in many +apprehensions touching our friends; yet our friends, for the most part, will +<i>“gang their ain gate;”</i> and the most we can do is, to hope +for the best. Still, I suggested to Harry, whether he had not best cross the +sea as a steerage passenger, since he could procure enough money for that; but +no, he was bent upon going as a sailor. +</p> + +<p> +I now had a comrade in my afternoon strolls, and Sunday excursions; and as +Harry was a generous fellow, he shared with me his purse and his heart. He sold +off several more of his fine vests and browsers, his silver-keyed flute and +enameled guitar; and a portion of the money thus furnished was pleasantly spent +in refreshing ourselves at the road-side inns in the vicinity of the town. +</p> + +<p> +Reclining side by side in some agreeable nook, we exchanged our experiences of +the past. Harry enlarged upon the fascinations of a London life; described the +curricle he used to drive in Hyde Park; gave me the measurement of Madame +Vestris’ ankle; alluded to his first introduction at a club to the madcap +Marquis of Waterford; told over the sums he had lost upon the turf on a Derby +day; and made various but enigmatical allusions to a certain Lady Georgiana +Theresa, the noble daughter of an anonymous earl. +</p> + +<p> +Even in conversation, Harry was a prodigal; squandering his aristocratic +narrations with a careless hand; and, perhaps, sometimes spending funds of +reminiscences not his own. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, I had only my poor old uncle the senator to fall back upon; and I +used him upon all emergencies, like the knight in the game of chess; making him +hop about, and stand stiffly up to the encounter, against all my fine +comrade’s array of dukes, lords, curricles, and countesses. +</p> + +<p> +In these long talks of ours, I frequently expressed the earnest desire I +cherished, to make a visit to London; and related how strongly tempted I had +been one Sunday, to walk the whole way, without a penny in my pocket. To this, +Harry rejoined, that nothing would delight him more, than to show me the +capital; and he even meaningly but mysteriously hinted at the possibility of +his doing so, before many days had passed. But this seemed so idle a thought, +that I only imputed it to my friend’s good-natured, rattling disposition, +which sometimes prompted him to out with any thing, that he thought would be +agreeable. Besides, would this fine blade of Bury be seen, by his aristocratic +acquaintances, walking down Oxford-street, say, arm in arm with the sleeve of +my shooting-jacket? The thing was preposterous; and I began to think, that +Harry, after all, was a little bit disposed to impose upon my Yankee credulity. +</p> + +<p> +Luckily, my Bury blade had no acquaintance in Liverpool, where, indeed, he was +as much in a foreign land, as if he were already on the shores of Lake Erie; so +that he strolled about with me in perfect abandonment; reckless of the cut of +my shooting-jacket; and not caring one whit who might stare at so singular a +couple. +</p> + +<p> +But once, crossing a square, faced on one side by a fashionable hotel, he made +a rapid turn with me round a corner; and never stopped, till the square was a +good block in our rear. The cause of this sudden retreat, was a remarkably +elegant coat and pantaloons, standing upright on the hotel steps, and +containing a young buck, tapping his teeth with an ivory-headed riding-whip. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was he, Harry?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“My old chum, Lord Lovely,” said Harry, with a careless air, +“and Heaven only knows what brings Lovely from London.” +</p> + +<p> +“A lord?” said I starting; “then I must look at him +again;” for lords are very scarce in Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +Unmindful of my companion’s remonstrances, I ran back to the corner; and +slowly promenaded past the upright coat and pantaloons on the steps. +</p> + +<p> +It was not much of a lord to behold; very thin and limber about the legs, with +small feet like a doll’s, and a small, glossy head like a seal’s. I +had seen just such looking lords standing in sentimental attitudes in front of +Palmo’s in Broadway. +</p> + +<p> +However, he and I being mutual friends of Harry’s, I thought something of +accosting him, and taking counsel concerning what was best to be done for the +young prodigal’s welfare; but upon second thoughts I thought best not to +intrude; especially, as just then my lord Lovely stepped to the open window of +a flashing carriage which drew up; and throwing himself into an interesting +posture, with the sole of one boot vertically exposed, so as to show the stamp +on it—a coronet—fell into a sparkling conversation with a +magnificent white satin hat, surmounted by a regal marabou feather, inside. +</p> + +<p> +I doubted not, this lady was nothing short of a peeress; and thought it would +be one of the pleasantest and most charming things in the world, just to seat +myself beside her, and order the coachman to take us a drive into the country. +</p> + +<p> +But, as upon further consideration, I imagined that the peeress might decline +the honor of my company, since I had no formal card of introduction; I marched +on, and rejoined my companion, whom I at once endeavored to draw out, touching +Lord Lovely; but he only made mysterious answers; and turned off the +conversation, by allusions to his visits to Ickworth in Suffolk, the +magnificent seat of the Most Noble Marquis of Bristol, who had repeatedly +assured Harry that he might consider Ickworth his home. +</p> + +<p> +Now, all these accounts of marquises and Ickworths, and Harry’s having +been hand in glove with so many lords and ladies, began to breed some +suspicions concerning the rigid morality of my friend, as a teller of the +truth. But, after all, thought I to myself, who can prove that Harry has +fibbed? Certainly, his manners are polished, he has a mighty easy address; and +there is nothing altogether impossible about his having consorted with the +master of Ickworth, and the daughter of the anonymous earl. And what right has +a poor Yankee, like me, to insinuate the slightest suspicion against what he +says? What little money he has, he spends freely; he can not be a polite +blackleg, for I am no pigeon to pluck; so <i>that</i> is out of the +question;—perish such a thought, concerning my own bosom friend! +</p> + +<p> +But though I drowned all my suspicions as well as I could, and ever cherished +toward Harry a heart, loving and true; yet, spite of all this, I never could +entirely digest some of his imperial reminiscences of high life. I was very +sorry for this; as at times it made me feel ill at ease in his company; and +made me hold back my whole soul from him; when, in its loneliness, it was +yearning to throw itself into the unbounded bosom of some immaculate friend. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap45"></a>CHAPTER XLV.<br/> +HARRY BOLTON KIDNAPS REDBURN, AND CARRIES HIM OFF TO LONDON</h2> + +<p> +It might have been a week after our glimpse of Lord Lovely, that Harry, who had +been expecting a letter, which, he told me, might possibly alter his plans, one +afternoon came bounding on board the ship, and sprang down the hatchway into +the <i>between-decks,</i> where, in perfect solitude, I was engaged picking +oakum; at which business the mate had set me, for want of any thing better. +</p> + +<p> +“Hey for London, Wellingborough!” he cried. “Off tomorrow! +first train—be there the same night—come! I have money to rig you +all out—drop that hangman’s stuff there, and away! Pah! how it +smells here! Come; up you jump!” +</p> + +<p> +I trembled with amazement and delight. +</p> + +<p> +London? it could not be!—and Harry—how kind of him! he was then +indeed what he seemed. But instantly I thought of all the circumstances of the +case, and was eager to know what it was that had induced this sudden departure. +</p> + +<p> +In reply my friend told me, that he had received a remittance, and had hopes of +recovering a considerable sum, lost in some way that he chose to conceal. +</p> + +<p> +“But how am I to leave the ship, Harry?” said I; “they will +not let me go, will they? You had better leave me behind, after all; I +don’t care very much about going; and besides, I have no money to share +the expenses.” +</p> + +<p> +This I said, only pretending indifference, for my heart was jumping all the +time. +</p> + +<p> +“Tut! my Yankee bantam,” said Harry; “look here!” and +he showed me a handful of gold. +</p> + +<p> +“But they are <i>yours,</i> and not <i>mine,</i> Harry,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Yours <i>and</i> mine, my sweet fellow,” exclaimed Harry. +“Come, sink the ship, and let’s go!” +</p> + +<p> +“But you don’t consider, if I quit the ship, they’ll be +sending a constable after me, won’t they?” +</p> + +<p> +“What! and do you think, then, they value your services so highly? Ha! +ha!-Up, up, Wellingborough: I can’t wait.” +</p> + +<p> +True enough. I well knew that Captain Riga would not trouble himself much, if I +<i>did</i> take French leave of him. So, without further thought of the matter, +I told Harry to wait a few moments, till the ship’s bell struck four; at +which time I used to go to supper, and be free for the rest of the day. +</p> + +<p> +The bell struck; and off we went. As we hurried across the quay, and along the +dock walls, I asked Harry all about his intentions. He said, that go to London +he must, and to Bury St. Edmunds; but that whether he should for any time +remain at either place, he could not now tell; and it was by no means +impossible, that in less than a week’s time we would be back again in +Liverpool, and ready for sea. But all he said was enveloped in a mystery that I +did not much like; and I hardly know whether I have repeated correctly what he +said at the time. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at the <i>Golden Anchor,</i> where Harry put up, he at once led me to +his room, and began turning over the contents of his chest, to see what +clothing he might have, that would fit me. +</p> + +<p> +Though he was some years my senior, we were about the same size—if any +thing, I was larger than he; so, with a little stretching, a shirt, vest, and +pantaloons were soon found to suit. As for a coat and hat, those Harry ran out +and bought without delay; returning with a loose, stylish sack-coat, and a sort +of foraging cap, very neat, genteel, and unpretending. +</p> + +<p> +My friend himself soon doffed his Guernsey frock, and stood before me, arrayed +in a perfectly plain suit, which he had bought on purpose that very morning. I +asked him why he had gone to that unnecessary expense, when he had plenty of +other clothes in his chest. But he only winked, and looked knowing. This, +again, I did not like. But I strove to drown ugly thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +Till quite dark, we sat talking together; when, locking his chest, and charging +his landlady to look after it well, till he called, or sent for it; Harry +seized my arm, and we sallied into the street. +</p> + +<p> +Pursuing our way through crowds of frolicking sailors and fiddlers, we turned +into a street leading to the Exchange. There, under the shadow of the +colonnade, Harry told me to stop, while he left me, and went to finish his +toilet. Wondering what he meant, I stood to one side; and presently was joined +by a stranger in whiskers and mustache. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s <i>me”</i> said the stranger; and who was <i>me</i> but +Harry, who had thus metamorphosed himself? I asked him the reason; and in a +faltering voice, which I tried to make humorous, expressed a hope that he was +not going to turn gentleman forger. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed, and assured me that it was only a precaution against being +recognized by his own particular friends in London, that he had adopted this +mode of disguising himself. +</p> + +<p> +“And why afraid of your friends?” asked I, in astonishment, +“and we are not in London yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pshaw! what a Yankee you are, Wellingborough. Can’t you see very +plainly that I have a plan in my head? And this disguise is only for a short +time, you know. But I’ll tell you all by and by.” +</p> + +<p> +I acquiesced, though not feeling at ease; and we walked on, till we came to a +public house, in the vicinity of the place at which the cars are taken. +</p> + +<p> +We stopped there that night, and next day were off, whirled along through +boundless landscapes of villages, and meadows, and parks: and over arching +viaducts, and through wonderful tunnels; till, half delirious with excitement, +I found myself dropped down in the evening among gas-lights, under a great roof +in Euston Square. +</p> + +<p> +London at last, and in the West-End! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap46"></a>CHAPTER XLVI.<br/> +A MYSTERIOUS NIGHT IN LONDON </h2> + +<p> +“No time to lose,” said Harry, “come along.” +</p> + +<p> +He called a cab: in an undertone mentioned the number of a house in some street +to the driver; we jumped in, and were off. +</p> + +<p> +As we rattled over the boisterous pavements, past splendid squares, churches, +and shops, our cabman turning corners like a skater on the ice, and all the +roar of London in my ears, and no end to the walls of brick and mortar; I +thought New York a hamlet, and Liverpool a coal-hole, and myself somebody else: +so unreal seemed every thing about me. My head was spinning round like a top, +and my eyes ached with much gazing; particularly about the corners, owing to my +darting them so rapidly, first this side, and then that, so as not to miss any +thing; though, in truth, I missed much. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop,” cried Harry, after a long while, putting his head out of +the window, all at once—“stop! do you hear, you deaf man? you have +passed the house—No. 40 I told you—that’s it—the high +steps there, with the purple light!” +</p> + +<p> +The cabman being paid, Harry adjusting his whiskers and mustache, and bidding +me assume a lounging look, pushed his hat a little to one side, and then +locking arms, we sauntered into the house; myself feeling not a little abashed; +it was so long since I had been in any courtly society. +</p> + +<p> +It was some semi-public place of opulent entertainment; and far surpassed any +thing of the kind I had ever seen before. +</p> + +<p> +The floor was tesselated with snow-white, and russet-hued marbles; and echoed +to the tread, as if all the Paris catacombs were underneath. I started with +misgivings at that hollow, boding sound, which seemed sighing with a +subterraneous despair, through all the magnificent spectacle around me; mocking +it, where most it glared. +</p> + +<p> +The walls were painted so as to deceive the eye with interminable colonnades; +and groups of columns of the finest Scagliola work of variegated +marbles—emerald-green and gold, St. Pons veined with silver, Sienna with +porphyry—supported a resplendent fresco ceiling, arched like a bower, and +thickly clustering with mimic grapes. Through all the East of this foliage, you +spied in a crimson dawn, Guide’s ever youthful Apollo, driving forth the +horses of the sun. From sculptured stalactites of vine-boughs, here and there +pendent hung galaxies of gas lights, whose vivid glare was softened by pale, +cream-colored, porcelain spheres, shedding over the place a serene, silver +flood; as if every porcelain sphere were a moon; and this superb apartment was +the moon-lit garden of Portia at Belmont; and the gentle lovers, Lorenzo and +Jessica, lurked somewhere among the vines. +</p> + +<p> +At numerous Moorish looking tables, supported by Caryatides of turbaned slaves, +sat knots of gentlemanly men, with cut decanters and taper-waisted glasses, +journals and cigars, before them. +</p> + +<p> +To and fro ran obsequious waiters, with spotless napkins thrown over their +arms, and making a profound salaam, and hemming deferentially, whenever they +uttered a word. +</p> + +<p> +At the further end of this brilliant apartment, was a rich mahogany turret-like +structure, partly built into the wall, and communicating with rooms in the +rear. Behind, was a very handsome florid old man, with snow-white hair and +whiskers, and in a snow-white jacket—he looked like an almond tree in +blossom—who seemed to be standing, a polite sentry over the scene before +him; and it was he, who mostly ordered about the waiters; and with a silent +salute, received the silver of the guests. +</p> + +<p> +Our entrance excited little or no notice; for every body present seemed +exceedingly animated about concerns of their own; and a large group was +gathered around one tall, military looking gentleman, who was reading some +India war-news from the Times, and commenting on it, in a very loud voice, +condemning, in toto, the entire campaign. +</p> + +<p> +We seated ourselves apart from this group, and Harry, rapping on the table, +called for wine; mentioning some curious foreign name. +</p> + +<p> +The decanter, filled with a pale yellow wine, being placed before us, and my +comrade having drunk a few glasses; he whispered me to remain where I was, +while he withdrew for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +I saw him advance to the turret-like place, and exchange a confidential word +with the almond tree there, who immediately looked very much surprised,—I +thought, a little disconcerted,—and then disappeared with him. +</p> + +<p> +While my friend was gone, I occupied myself with looking around me, and +striving to appear as indifferent as possible, and as much used to all this +splendor as if I had been born in it. But, to tell the truth, my head was +almost dizzy with the strangeness of the sight, and the thought that I was +really in London. What would my brother have said? What would Tom Legare, the +treasurer of the Juvenile Temperance Society, have thought? +</p> + +<p> +But I almost began to fancy I had no friends and relatives living in a little +village three thousand five hundred miles off, in America; for it was hard to +unite such a humble reminiscence with the splendid animation of the London-like +scene around me. +</p> + +<p> +And in the delirium of the moment, I began to indulge in foolish golden visions +of the counts and countesses to whom Harry might introduce me; and every +instant I expected to hear the waiters addressing some gentleman as +<i>“My Lord,”</i> or <i>“four Grace.”</i> But if there +were really any lords present, the waiters omitted their titles, at least in my +hearing. +</p> + +<p> +Mixed with these thoughts were confused visions of St. Paul’s and the +Strand, which I determined to visit the very next morning, before breakfast, or +perish in the attempt. And I even longed for Harry’s return, that we +might immediately sally out into the street, and see some of the sights, before +the shops were all closed for the night. +</p> + +<p> +While I thus sat alone, I observed one of the waiters eying me a little +impertinently, as I thought, and as if he saw something queer about me. So I +tried to assume a careless and lordly air, and by way of helping the thing, +threw one leg over the other, like a young Prince Esterhazy; but all the time I +felt my face burning with embarrassment, and for the time, I must have looked +very guilty of something. But spite of this, I kept looking boldly out of my +eyes, and straight through my blushes, and observed that every now and then +little parties were made up among the gentlemen, and they retired into the rear +of the house, as if going to a private apartment. And I overheard one of them +drop the word <i>Rouge;</i> but he could not have used rouge, for his face was +exceedingly pale. Another said something about <i>Loo.</i> +</p> + +<p> +At last Harry came back, his face rather flushed. +</p> + +<p> +“Come along, Redburn,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +So making no doubt we were off for a ramble, perhaps to Apsley House, in the +Park, to get a sly peep at the old Duke before he retired for the night, for +Harry had told me the Duke always went to bed early, I sprang up to follow him; +but what was my disappointment and surprise, when he only led me into the +passage, toward a staircase lighted by three marble Graces, unitedly holding a +broad candelabra, like an elk’s antlers, over the landing. +</p> + +<p> +We rambled up the long, winding slope of those aristocratic stairs, every step +of which, covered with Turkey rugs, looked gorgeous as the hammer-cloth of the +Lord Mayor’s coach; and Harry hied straight to a rosewood door, which, on +magical hinges, sprang softly open to his touch. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the room, methought I was slowly sinking in some reluctant, sedgy +sea; so thick and elastic the Persian carpeting, mimicking parterres of tulips, +and roses, and jonquils, like a bower in Babylon. +</p> + +<p> +Long lounges lay carelessly disposed, whose fine damask was interwoven, like +the Gobelin tapestry, with pictorial tales of tilt and tourney. And oriental +ottomans, whose cunning warp and woof were wrought into plaited serpents, +undulating beneath beds of leaves, from which, here and there, they flashed out +sudden splendors of green scales and gold. +</p> + +<p> +In the broad bay windows, as the hollows of King Charles’ oaks, were +Laocoon-like chairs, in the antique taste, draped with heavy fringes of bullion +and silk. +</p> + +<p> +The walls, covered with a sort of tartan-French paper, variegated with bars of +velvet, were hung round with mythological oil-paintings, suspended by tasseled +cords of twisted silver and blue. +</p> + +<p> +They were such pictures as the high-priests, for a bribe, showed to Alexander +in the innermost shrine of the white temple in the Libyan oasis: such pictures +as the pontiff of the sun strove to hide from Cortez, when, sword in hand, he +burst open the sanctorum of the pyramid-fane at Cholula: such pictures as you +may still see, perhaps, in the central alcove of the excavated mansion of +Pansa, in Pompeii—in that part of it called by Varro <i>the hollow of the +house:</i> such pictures as Martial and Seutonius mention as being found in the +private cabinet of the Emperor Tiberius: such pictures as are delineated on the +bronze medals, to this day dug up on the ancient island of Capreas: such +pictures as you might have beheld in an arched recess, leading from the left +hand of the secret side-gallery of the temple of Aphrodite in Corinth. +</p> + +<p> +In the principal pier was a marble bracket, sculptured in the semblance of a +dragon’s crest, and supporting a bust, most wonderful to behold. It was +that of a bald-headed old man, with a mysteriously-wicked expression, and +imposing silence by one thin finger over his lips. His marble mouth seemed +tremulous with secrets. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down, Wellingborough,” said Harry; “don’t be +frightened, we are at home.—Ring the bell, will you? But +stop;”— and advancing to the mysterious bust, he whispered +something in its ear. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s a knowing mute, Wellingborough,” said he; “who +stays in this one place all the time, while he is yet running of errands. But +mind you don’t breathe any secrets in his ear.” +</p> + +<p> +In obedience to a summons so singularly conveyed, to my amazement a servant +almost instantly appeared, standing transfixed in the attitude of a bow. +</p> + +<p> +“Cigars,” said Harry. When they came, he drew up a small table into +the middle of the room, and lighting his cigar, bade me follow his example, and +make myself happy. +</p> + +<p> +Almost transported with such princely quarters, so undreamed of before, while +leading my dog’s life in the filthy forecastle of the Highlander, I +twirled round a chair, and seated myself opposite my friend. +</p> + +<p> +But all the time, I felt ill at heart; and was filled with an undercurrent of +dismal forebodings. But I strove to dispel them; and turning to my companion, +exclaimed, “And pray, do you live here, Harry, in this Palace of +Aladdin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my soul,” he cried, “you have hit it:—you must +have been here before! Aladdin’s Palace! Why, Wellingborough, it goes by +that very name.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he laughed strangely: and for the first time, I thought he had been +quaffing too freely: yet, though he looked wildly from his eyes, his general +carriage was firm. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you looking at so hard, Wellingborough?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid, Harry,” said I, “that when you left me just +now, you must have been drinking something stronger than wine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hear him now,” said Harry, turning round, as if addressing the +bald-headed bust on the bracket,—“a parson ’pon +honor!—But remark you, Wellingborough, my boy, I must leave you again, +and for a considerably longer time than before:—I may not be back again +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Be still,” he cried, “hear me, I know the old duke here, +and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Who? not the Duke of Wellington,” said I, wondering whether Harry +was really going to include <i>him</i> too, in his long list of confidential +friends and acquaintances. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh!” cried Harry, “I mean the white-whiskered old man you +saw below; they call him <i>the Duke:—he</i> keeps the house. I say, I +know him well, and he knows <i>me;</i> and he knows what brings me here, also. +Well; we have arranged every thing about you; you are to stay in this room, and +sleep here tonight, and—and—” continued he, speaking +low—“you must guard this letter—” slipping a sealed one +into my hand—“and, if I am not back by morning, you must post right +on to Bury, and leave the letter there;—here, take this +paper—it’s all set down here in black and white—where you are +to go, and what you are to do. And after that’s done—mind, this is +all in case I don’t return—then you may do what you please: stay +here in London awhile, or go back to Liverpool. And here’s enough to pay +all your expenses.” +</p> + +<p> +All this was a thunder stroke. I thought Harry was crazy. I held the purse in +my motionless hand, and stared at him, till the tears almost started from my +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter, Redburn?” he cried, with a wild sort of +laugh—“you are not afraid of me, are you?—No, no! I believe +in you, my boy, or you would not hold that purse in your hand; no, nor that +letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“What in heaven’s name do you mean?” at last I exclaimed, +“you don’t really intend to desert me in this strange place, do +you, Harry?” and I snatched him by the hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh, pooh,” he cried, “let me go. I tell you, it’s +all right: do as I say: that’s all. Promise me now, will you? Swear +it!—no, no,” he added, vehemently, as I conjured him to tell me +more—“no, I won’t: I have nothing more to tell you—not +a word. Will you swear?” +</p> + +<p> +“But one sentence more for your own sake, Harry: hear me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a syllable! Will you swear?—you will not? then here, give me +that purse:—there—there—take that—and that—and +that;—that will pay your fare back to Liverpool; good-by to you: you are +not my friend,” and he wheeled round his back. +</p> + +<p> +I know not what flashed through my mind, but something suddenly impelled me; +and grasping his hand, I swore to him what he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +Immediately he ran to the bust, whispered a word, and the white-whiskered old +man appeared: whom he clapped on the shoulder, and then introduced me as his +friend—young Lord Stormont; and bade the almond tree look well to the +comforts of his lordship, while he—Harry—was gone. +</p> + +<p> +The almond tree blandly bowed, and grimaced, with a peculiar expression, that I +hated on the spot. After a few words more, he withdrew. Harry then shook my +hand heartily, and without giving me a chance to say one word, seized his cap, +and darted out of the room, saying, “Leave not this room tonight; and +remember the letter, and Bury!” +</p> + +<p> +I fell into a chair, and gazed round at the strange-looking walls and +mysterious pictures, and up to the chandelier at the ceiling; then rose, and +opened the door, and looked down the lighted passage; but only heard the hum +from the roomful below, scattered voices, and a hushed ivory rattling from the +closed apartments adjoining. I stepped back into the room, and a terrible +revulsion came over me: I would have given the world had I been safe back in +Liverpool, fast asleep in my old bunk in Prince’s Dock. +</p> + +<p> +I shuddered at every footfall, and almost thought it must be some assassin +pursuing me. The whole place seemed infected; and a strange thought came over +me, that in the very damasks around, some eastern plague had been imported. And +was that pale yellow wine, that I drank below, drugged? thought I. This must be +some house whose foundations take hold on the pit. But these fearful reveries +only enchanted me fast to my chair; so that, though I then wished to rush forth +from the house, my limbs seemed manacled. +</p> + +<p> +While thus chained to my seat, something seemed suddenly flung open; a confused +sound of imprecations, mixed with the ivory rattling, louder than before, burst +upon my ear, and through the partly open door of the room where I was, I caught +sight of a tall, frantic man, with clenched hands, wildly darting through the +passage, toward the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +And all the while, Harry ran through my soul—in and out, at every door, +that burst open to his vehement rush. +</p> + +<p> +At that moment my whole acquaintance with him passed like lightning through my +mind, till I asked myself why he had come here, to London, to do this +thing?—why would not Liverpool have answered? and what did he want of me? +But, every way, his conduct was unaccountable. From the hour he had accosted me +on board the ship, his manner seemed gradually changed; and from the moment we +had sprung into the cab, he had seemed almost another person from what he had +seemed before. +</p> + +<p> +But what could I do? He was gone, that was certain;—would he ever come +back? But he might still be somewhere in the house; and with a shudder, I +thought of that ivory rattling, and was almost ready to dart forth, search +every room, and save him. But that would be madness, and I had sworn not to do +so. There seemed nothing left, but to await his return. Yet, if he did not +return, what then? I took out the purse, and counted over the money, and looked +at the letter and paper of memoranda. +</p> + +<p> +Though I vividly remember it all, I will not give the superscription of the +letter, nor the contents of the paper. But after I had looked at them +attentively, and considered that Harry could have no conceivable object in +deceiving me, I thought to myself, Yes, he’s in earnest; and here I +am—yes, even in London! And here in this room will I stay, come what +will. I will implicitly follow his directions, and so see out the last of this +thing. +</p> + +<p> +But spite of these thoughts, and spite of the metropolitan magnificence around +me, I was mysteriously alive to a dreadful feeling, which I had never before +felt, except when penetrating into the lowest and most squalid haunts of sailor +iniquity in Liverpool. All the mirrors and marbles around me seemed crawling +over with lizards; and I thought to myself, that though gilded and golden, the +serpent of vice is a serpent still. +</p> + +<p> +It was now grown very late; and faint with excitement, I threw myself upon a +lounge; but for some time tossed about restless, in a sort of night-mare. Every +few moments, spite of my oath, I was upon the point of starting up, and rushing +into the street, to inquire where I was; but remembering Harry’s +injunctions, and my own ignorance of the town, and that it was now so late, I +again tried to be composed. +</p> + +<p> +At last, I fell asleep, dreaming about Harry fighting a duel of dice-boxes with +the military-looking man below; and the next thing I knew, was the glare of a +light before my eyes, and Harry himself, very pale, stood before me. +</p> + +<p> +“The letter and paper,” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +I fumbled in my pockets, and handed them to him. +</p> + +<p> +“There! there! there! thus I tear you,” he cried, wrenching the +letter to pieces with both hands like a madman, and stamping upon the +fragments. “I am off for America; the game is up.” +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake explain,” said I, now utterly bewildered, and +frightened. “Tell me, Harry, what is it? You have not been +gambling?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha, ha,” he deliriously laughed. “Gambling? red and white, +you mean?—cards?—dice?—the bones?—Ha, +ha!—Gambling? gambling?” he ground out between his +teeth—“what two devilish, stiletto-sounding syllables they +are!” +</p> + +<p> +“Wellingborough,” he added, marching up to me slowly, but with his +eyes blazing into mine—“Wellingborough”—and fumbling in +his breast-pocket, he drew forth a dirk—“Here, Wellingborough, take +it—take it, I say—are you stupid?—there, +there”—and he pushed it into my hands. “Keep it away from +me—keep it out of my sight—I don’t want it near me, while I +feel as I do. They serve suicides scurvily here, Wellingborough; they +don’t bury them decently. See that bell-rope! By Heaven, it’s an +invitation to hang myself"—and seizing it by the gilded handle at the +end, he twitched it down from the wall. +</p> + +<p> +“In God’s name, what ails you?” I cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, oh nothing,” said Harry, now assuming a treacherous, +tropical calmness—“nothing, Redburn; nothing in the world. +I’m the serenest of men.” +</p> + +<p> +“But give me that dirk,” he suddenly cried—“let me have +it, I say. Oh! I don’t mean to murder myself—I’m past that +now—give it me”—and snatching it from my hand, he flung down +an empty purse, and with a terrific stab, nailed it fast with the dirk to the +table. +</p> + +<p> +“There now,” he cried, “there’s something for the old +duke to see to-morrow morning; that’s about all that’s left of +me— that’s my skeleton, Wellingborough. But come, don’t be +downhearted; there’s a little more gold yet in Golconda; I have a guinea +or two left. Don’t stare so, my boy; we shall be in Liverpool to-morrow +night; we start in the morning”—and turning his back, he began to +whistle very fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“And this, then,” said I, “is your showing me London, is it, +Harry? I did not think this; but tell me your secret, whatever it is, and I +will not regret not seeing the town.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned round upon me like lightning, and cried, “Red-burn! you must +swear another oath, and instantly.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why?” said I, in alarm, “what more would you have me +swear?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never to question me again about this infernal trip to London!” he +shouted, with the foam at his lips—“never to breathe it! +swear!” +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly shall not trouble you, Harry, with questions, if you do not +desire it,” said I, “but there’s no need of swearing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Swear it, I say, as you love me, Redburn,” he added, imploringly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, I solemnly do. Now lie down, and let us forget ourselves as +soon as we can; for me, you have made me the most miserable dog alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what am I?” cried Harry; “but pardon me, Redburn, I did +not mean to offend; if you knew all—but no, no!—never mind, never +mind!” And he ran to the bust, and whispered in its ear. A waiter came. +</p> + +<p> +“Brandy,” whispered Harry, with clenched teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you not going to sleep, then?” said I, more and more alarmed +at his wildness, and fearful of the effects of his drinking still more, in such +a mood. +</p> + +<p> +“No sleep for me! sleep if <i>you</i> can—I mean to sit up with a +decanter!—let me see”—looking at the ormolu clock on the +mantel—“it’s only two hours to morning.” +</p> + +<p> +The waiter, looking very sleepy, and with a green shade on his brow, appeared +with the decanter and glasses on a salver, and was told to leave it and depart. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing that Harry was not to be moved, I once more threw myself on the lounge. +I did not sleep; but, like a somnambulist, only dozed now and then; starting +from my dreams; while Harry sat, with his hat on, at the table; the brandy +before him; from which he occasionally poured into his glass. Instead of +exciting him, however, to my amazement, the spirits seemed to soothe him down; +and, ere long, he was comparatively calm. +</p> + +<p> +At last, just as I had fallen into a deep sleep, I was wakened by his shaking +me, and saying our cab was at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Look! it is broad day,” said he, brushing aside the heavy hangings +of the window. +</p> + +<p> +We left the room; and passing through the now silent and deserted hall of +pillars, which, at this hour, reeked as with blended roses and cigar-stumps +decayed; a dumb waiter; rubbing his eyes, flung open the street door; we sprang +into the cab; and soon found ourselves whirled along northward by railroad, +toward Prince’s Dock and the Highlander. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap47"></a>CHAPTER XLVII.<br/> +HOMEWARD BOUND</h2> + +<p> +Once more in Liverpool; and wending my way through the same old streets to the +sign of the Golden Anchor; I could scarcely credit the events of the last +thirty-six hours. +</p> + +<p> +So unforeseen had been our departure in the first place; so rapid our journey; +so unaccountable the conduct of Harry; and so sudden our return; that all +united to overwhelm me. That I had been at all in London seemed impossible; and +that I had been there, and come away little the wiser, was almost distracting +to one who, like me, had so longed to behold that metropolis of marvels. +</p> + +<p> +I looked hard at Harry as he walked in silence at my side; I stared at the +houses we passed; I thought of the cab, the gas lighted hall in the Palace of +Aladdin, the pictures, the letter, the oath, the dirk; the mysterious place +where all these mysteries had occurred; and then, was almost ready to conclude, +that the pale yellow wine had been drugged. +</p> + +<p> +As for Harry, stuffing his false whiskers and mustache into his pocket, he now +led the way to the boarding-house; and saluting the landlady, was shown to his +room; where we immediately shifted our clothes, appearing once more in our +sailor habiliments. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what do you propose to do now, Harry?” said I, with a heavy +heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, visit your Yankee land in the Highlander, of course—what +else?" he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“And is it to be a visit, or a long stay?” asked I. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s as it may turn out,” said Harry; “but I have +now more than ever resolved upon the sea. There is nothing like the sea for a +fellow like me, Redburn; a desperate man can not get any further than the +wharf, you know; and the next step must be a long jump. But come, let’s +see what they have to eat here, and then for a cigar and a stroll. I feel +better already. Never say die, is my motto.” +</p> + +<p> +We went to supper; after that, sallied out; and walking along the quay of +Prince’s Dock, heard that the ship Highlander had that morning been +advertised to sail in two days’ time. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” exclaimed Harry; and I was glad enough myself. +</p> + +<p> +Although I had now been absent from the ship a full forty-eight hours, and +intended to return to her, yet I did not anticipate being called to any severe +account for it from the officers; for several of our men had absented +themselves longer than I had, and upon their return, little or nothing was said +to them. Indeed, in some cases, the mate seemed to know nothing about it. +During the whole time we lay in Liverpool, the discipline of the ship was +altogether relaxed; and I could hardly believe they were the same officers who +were so dictatorial at sea. The reason of this was, that we had nothing +important to do; and although the captain might now legally refuse to receive +me on board, yet I was not afraid of that, as I was as stout a lad for my +years, and worked as cheap, as any one he could engage to take my place on the +homeward passage. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning we made our appearance on board before the rest of the crew; and +the mate perceiving me, said with an oath, “Well, sir, you have thought +best to return then, have you? Captain Riga and I were flattering ourselves +that you had made a run of it for good.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, thought I, the captain, who seems to affect to know nothing of the +proceedings of the sailors, has been aware of my absence. +</p> + +<p> +“But turn to, sir, turn to,” added the mate; “here! aloft +there, and free that pennant; it’s foul of the +backstay—jump!” +</p> + +<p> +The captain coming on board soon after, looked very benevolently at Harry; but, +as usual, pretended not to take the slightest notice of myself. +</p> + +<p> +We were all now very busy in getting things ready for sea. The cargo had been +already stowed in the hold by the stevedores and lumpers from shore; but it +became the crew’s business to clear away the <i>between-decks,</i> +extending from the cabin bulkhead to the forecastle, for the reception of about +five hundred emigrants, some of whose boxes were already littering the decks. +</p> + +<p> +To provide for their wants, a far larger supply of water was needed than upon +the outward-bound passage. Accordingly, besides the usual number of casks on +deck, rows of immense tierces were lashed amid-ships, all along the +<i>between-decks,</i> forming a sort of aisle on each side, furnishing access +to four rows of bunks,—three tiers, one above another,—against the +ship’s sides; two tiers being placed over the tierces of water in the +middle. These bunks were rapidly knocked together with coarse planks. They +looked more like dog-kennels than any thing else; especially as the place was +so gloomy and dark; no light coming down except through the fore and after +hatchways, both of which were covered with little houses called +<i>“booby-hatches.”</i> Upon the main-hatches, which were well +calked and covered over with heavy tarpaulins, the +<i>“passengers-galley”</i> was solidly lashed down. +</p> + +<p> +This <i>galley</i> was a large open stove, or iron range—made expressly +for emigrant ships, wholly unprotected from the weather, and where alone the +emigrants are permitted to cook their food while at sea. +</p> + +<p> +After two days’ work, every thing was in readiness; most of the emigrants +on board; and in the evening we worked the ship close into the outlet of +Prince’s Dock, with the bow against the water-gate, to go out with the +tide in the morning. +</p> + +<p> +In the morning, the bustle and confusion about us was indescribable. Added to +the ordinary clamor of the docks, was the hurrying to and fro of our five +hundred emigrants, the last of whom, with their baggage, were now coming on +board; the appearance of the cabin passengers, following porters with their +trunks; the loud orders of the dock-masters, ordering the various ships behind +us to preserve their order of going out; the leave-takings, and +good-by’s, and God-bless-you’s, between the emigrants and their +friends; and the cheers of the surrounding ships. +</p> + +<p> +At this time we lay in such a way, that no one could board us except by the +bowsprit, which overhung the quay. Staggering along that bowsprit, now came a +one-eyed <i>crimp</i> leading a drunken tar by the collar, who had been shipped +to sail with us the day previous. It has been stated before, that two or three +of our men had left us for good, while in port. When the crimp had got this man +and another safely lodged in a bunk below, he returned on shore; and going to a +miserable cab, pulled out still another apparently drunken fellow, who proved +completely helpless. However, the ship now swinging her broadside more toward +the quay, this stupefied sailor, with a Scotch cap pulled down over his closed +eyes, only revealing a sallow Portuguese complexion, was lowered on board by a +rope under his arms, and passed forward by the crew, who put him likewise into +a bunk in the forecastle, the crimp himself carefully tucking him in, and +bidding the bystanders not to disturb him till the ship was away from the land. +</p> + +<p> +This done, the confusion increased, as we now glided out of the dock. Hats and +handkerchiefs were waved; hurrahs were exchanged; and tears were shed; and the +last thing I saw, as we shot into the stream, was a policeman collaring a boy, +and walking him off to the guard-house. +</p> + +<p> +A steam-tug, the <i>Goliath,</i> now took us by the arm, and gallanted us down +the river past the fort. +</p> + +<p> +The scene was most striking. +</p> + +<p> +Owing to a strong breeze, which had been blowing up the river for four days +past, holding wind-bound in the various docks a multitude of ships for all +parts of the world; there was now under weigh, a vast fleet of merchantmen, all +steering broad out to sea. The white sails glistened in the clear morning air +like a great Eastern encampment of sultans; and from many a forecastle, came +the deep mellow old song <i>Ho-o-he-yo, cheerily men!</i> as the crews called +their anchors. +</p> + +<p> +The wind was fair; the weather mild; the sea most smooth; and the poor +emigrants were in high spirits at so auspicious a beginning of their voyage. +They were reclining all over the decks, talking of soon seeing America, and +relating how the agent had told them, that twenty days would be an uncommonly +long voyage. +</p> + +<p> +Here it must be mentioned, that owing to the great number of ships sailing to +the Yankee ports from Liverpool, the competition among them in obtaining +emigrant passengers, who as a cargo are much more remunerative than crates and +bales, is exceedingly great; so much so, that some of the agents they employ, +do not scruple to deceive the poor applicants for passage, with all manner of +fables concerning the short space of time, in which their ships make the run +across the ocean. +</p> + +<p> +This often induces the emigrants to provide a much smaller stock of provisions +than they otherwise would; the effect of which sometimes proves to be in the +last degree lamentable; as will be seen further on. And though benevolent +societies have been long organized in Liverpool, for the purpose of keeping +offices, where the emigrants can obtain reliable information and advice, +concerning their best mode of embarkation, and other matters interesting to +them; and though the English authorities have imposed a law, providing that +every captain of an emigrant ship bound for any port of America shall see to +it, that each passenger is provided with rations of food for sixty days; yet, +all this has not deterred mercenary ship-masters and unprincipled agents from +practicing the grossest deception; nor exempted the emigrants themselves, from +the very sufferings intended to be averted. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner had we fairly gained the expanse of the Irish Sea, and, one by one, +lost sight of our thousand consorts, than the weather changed into the most +miserable cold, wet, and cheerless days and nights imaginable. The wind was +tempestuous, and dead in our teeth; and the hearts of the emigrants fell. +Nearly all of them had now hied below, to escape the uncomfortable and perilous +decks: and from the two <i>“booby-hatches”</i> came the steady hum +of a subterranean wailing and weeping. That irresistible wrestler, +sea-sickness, had overthrown the stoutest of their number, and the women and +children were embracing and sobbing in all the agonies of the poor +emigrant’s first storm at sea. +</p> + +<p> +Bad enough is it at such times with ladies and gentlemen in the cabin, who have +nice little state-rooms; and plenty of privacy; and stewards to run for them at +a word, and put pillows under their heads, and tenderly inquire how they are +getting along, and mix them a posset: and even then, in the abandonment of this +soul and body subduing malady, such ladies and gentlemen will often give up +life itself as unendurable, and put up the most pressing petitions for a speedy +annihilation; all of which, however, only arises from their intense anxiety to +preserve their valuable lives. +</p> + +<p> +How, then, with the friendless emigrants, stowed away like bales of cotton, and +packed like slaves in a slave-ship; confined in a place that, during storm +time, must be closed against both light and air; who can do no cooking, nor +warm so much as a cup of water; for the drenching seas would instantly flood +their fire in their exposed galley on deck? How, then, with these men, and +women, and children, to whom a first voyage, under the most advantageous +circumstances, must come just as hard as to the Honorable De Lancey Fitz +Clarence, lady, daughter, and seventeen servants. +</p> + +<p> +Nor is this all: for in some of these ships, as in the case of the Highlander, +the emigrant passengers are cut off from the most indispensable conveniences of +a civilized dwelling. This forces them in storm time to such extremities, that +no wonder fevers and plagues are the result. We had not been at sea one week, +when to hold your head down the fore hatchway was like holding it down a +suddenly opened cesspool. +</p> + +<p> +But still more than this. Such is the aristocracy maintained on board some of +these ships, that the most arbitrary measures are enforced, to prevent the +emigrants from intruding upon the most holy precincts of the quarter-deck, the +only completely open space on ship-board. Consequently—even in fine +weather—when they come up from below, they are crowded in the waist of +the ship, and jammed among the boats, casks, and spars; abused by the seamen, +and sometimes cuffed by the officers, for unavoidably standing in the way of +working the vessel. +</p> + +<p> +The cabin-passengers of the Highlander numbered some fifteen in all; and to +protect this detachment of gentility from the barbarian incursions of the +<i>“wild Irish”</i> emigrants, ropes were passed athwart-ships, by +the main-mast, from side to side: which defined the boundary line between those +who had paid three pounds passage-money, from those who had paid twenty +guineas. And the cabin-passengers themselves were the most urgent in having +this regulation maintained. +</p> + +<p> +Lucky would it be for the pretensions of some parvenus, whose souls are +deposited at their banker’s, and whose bodies but serve to carry about +purses, knit of poor men’s heartstrings, if thus easily they could +precisely define, ashore, the difference between them and the rest of humanity. +</p> + +<p> +But, I, Redburn, am a poor fellow, who have hardly ever known what it is to +have five silver dollars in my pocket at one time; so, no doubt, this +circumstance has something to do with my slight and harmless indignation at +these things. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap48"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII.<br/> +A LIVING CORPSE</h2> + +<p> +It was destined that our departure from the English strand, should be marked by +a tragical event, akin to the sudden end of the suicide, which had so strongly +impressed me on quitting the American shore. +</p> + +<p> +Of the three newly shipped men, who in a state of intoxication had been brought +on board at the dock gates, two were able to be engaged at their duties, in +four or five hours after quitting the pier. But the third man yet lay in his +bunk, in the self-same posture in which his limbs had been adjusted by the +crimp, who had deposited him there. +</p> + +<p> +His name was down on the ship’s papers as Miguel Saveda, and for Miguel +Saveda the chief mate at last came forward, shouting down the +forecastle-scuttle, and commanding his instant presence on deck. But the +sailors answered for their new comrade; giving the mate to understand that +Miguel was still fast locked in his trance, and could not obey him; when, +muttering his usual imprecation, the mate retired to the quarterdeck. +</p> + +<p> +This was in the first dog-watch, from four to six in the evening. At about +three bells, in the next watch, Max the Dutchman, who, like most old seamen, +was something of a physician in cases of drunkenness, recommended that +Miguel’s clothing should be removed, in order that he should lie more +comfortably. But Jackson, who would seldom let any thing be done in the +forecastle that was not proposed by himself, capriciously forbade this +proceeding. +</p> + +<p> +So the sailor still lay out of sight in his bunk, which was in the extreme +angle of the forecastle, behind the <i>bowsprit-bitts</i>—two stout +timbers rooted in the ship’s keel. An hour or two afterward, some of the +men observed a strange odor in the forecastle, which was attributed to the +presence of some dead rat among the hollow spaces in the side planks; for some +days before, the forecastle had been smoked out, to extirpate the vermin +overrunning her. At midnight, the larboard watch, to which I belonged, turned +out; and instantly as every man waked, he exclaimed at the now intolerable +smell, supposed to be heightened by the shaking up the bilge-water, from the +ship’s rolling. +</p> + +<p> +“Blast that rat!” cried the Greenlander. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s blasted already,” said Jackson, who in his drawers had +crossed over to the bunk of Miguel. “It’s a water-rat, shipmates, +that’s dead; and here he is”—and with that, he dragged forth +the sailor’s arm, exclaiming, “Dead as a timber-head!” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this the men rushed toward the bunk, Max with the light, which he held to +the man’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“No, he’s not dead,” he cried, as the yellow flame wavered +for a moment at the seaman’s motionless mouth. But hardly had the words +escaped, when, to the silent horror of all, two threads of greenish fire, like +a forked tongue, darted out between the lips; and in a moment, the cadaverous +face was crawled over by a swarm of wormlike flames. +</p> + +<p> +The lamp dropped from the hand of Max, and went out; while covered all over +with spires and sparkles of flame, that faintly crackled in the silence, the +uncovered parts of the body burned before us, precisely like phosphorescent +shark in a midnight sea. +</p> + +<p> +The eyes were open and fixed; the mouth was curled like a scroll, and every +lean feature firm as in life; while the whole face, now wound in curls of soft +blue flame, wore an aspect of grim defiance, and eternal death. Prometheus, +blasted by fire on the rock. +</p> + +<p> +One arm, its red shirt-sleeve rolled up, exposed the man’s name, tattooed +in vermilion, near the hollow of the middle joint; and as if there was +something peculiar in the painted flesh, every vibrating letter burned so +white, that you might read the flaming name in the flickering ground of blue. +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s that d—d Miguel?” was now shouted down among +us from the scuttle by the mate, who had just come on deck, and was determined +to have every man up that belonged to his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s gone to the harbor where they never weigh anchor,” +coughed Jackson. “Come you down, sir, and look.” +</p> + +<p> +Thinking that Jackson intended to beard him, the mate sprang down in a rage; +but recoiled at the burning body as if he had been shot by a bullet. “My +God!” he cried, and stood holding fast to the ladder. +</p> + +<p> +“Take hold of it,” said Jackson, at last, to the Greenlander; +“it must go overboard. Don’t stand shaking there, like a dog; take +hold of it, I say! But stop”—and smothering it all in the blankets, +he pulled it partly out of the bunk. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes more, and it fell with a bubble among the phosphorescent sparkles +of the damp night sea, leaving a coruscating wake as it sank. +</p> + +<p> +This event thrilled me through and through with unspeakable horror; nor did the +conversation of the watch during the next four hours on deck at all serve to +soothe me. +</p> + +<p> +But what most astonished me, and seemed most incredible, was the infernal +opinion of Jackson, that the man had been actually dead when brought on board +the ship; and that knowingly, and merely for the sake of the month’s +advance, paid into his hand upon the strength of the bill he presented, the +body-snatching crimp had knowingly shipped a corpse on board of the Highlander, +under the pretense of its being a live body in a drunken trance. And I heard +Jackson say, that he had known of such things having been done before. But that +a really dead body ever burned in that manner, I can not even yet believe. But +the sailors seemed familiar with such things; or at least with the stories of +such things having happened to others. +</p> + +<p> +For me, who at that age had never so much as happened to hear of a case like +this, of animal combustion, in the horrid mood that came over me, I almost +thought the burning body was a premonition of the hell of the Calvinists, and +that Miguel’s earthly end was a foretaste of his eternal condemnation. +</p> + +<p> +Immediately after the burial, an iron pot of red coals was placed in the bunk, +and in it two handfuls of coffee were roasted. This done, the bunk was nailed +up, and was never opened again during the voyage; and strict orders were given +to the crew not to divulge what had taken place to the emigrants; but to this, +they needed no commands. +</p> + +<p> +After the event, no one sailor but Jackson would stay alone in the forecastle, +by night or by noon; and no more would they laugh or sing, or in any way make +merry there, but kept all their pleasantries for the watches on deck. All but +Jackson: who, while the rest would be sitting silently smoking on their chests, +or in their bunks, would look toward the fatal spot, and cough, and laugh, and +invoke the dead man with incredible scoffs and jeers. He froze my blood, and +made my soul stand still. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap49"></a>CHAPTER XLIX.<br/> +CARLO</h2> + +<p> +There was on board our ship, among the emigrant passengers, a rich-cheeked, +chestnut-haired Italian boy, arrayed in a faded, olive-hued velvet jacket, and +tattered trowsers rolled up to his knee. He was not above fifteen years of age; +but in the twilight pensiveness of his full morning eyes, there seemed to sleep +experiences so sad and various, that his days must have seemed to him years. It +was not an eye like Harry’s tho’ Harry’s was large and +womanly. It shone with a soft and spiritual radiance, like a moist star in a +tropic sky; and spoke of humility, deep-seated thoughtfulness, yet a careless +endurance of all the ills of life. +</p> + +<p> +The head was if any thing small; and heaped with thick clusters of tendril +curls, half overhanging the brows and delicate ears, it somehow reminded you of +a classic vase, piled up with Falernian foliage. +</p> + +<p> +From the knee downward, the naked leg was beautiful to behold as any +lady’s arm; so soft and rounded, with infantile ease and grace. His whole +figure was free, fine, and indolent; he was such a boy as might have ripened +into life in a Neapolitan vineyard; such a boy as gipsies steal in infancy; +such a boy as Murillo often painted, when he went among the poor and outcast, +for subjects wherewith to captivate the eyes of rank and wealth; such a boy, as +only Andalusian beggars are, full of poetry, gushing from every rent. +</p> + +<p> +Carlo was his name; a poor and friendless son of earth, who had no sire; and on +life’s ocean was swept along, as spoon-drift in a gale. +</p> + +<p> +Some months previous, he had landed in Prince’s Dock, with his +hand-organ, from a Messina vessel; and had walked the streets of Liverpool, +playing the sunny airs of southern climes, among the northern fog and drizzle. +And now, having laid by enough to pay his passage over the Atlantic, he had +again embarked, to seek his fortunes in America. +</p> + +<p> +From the first, Harry took to the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Carlo,” said Harry, “how did you succeed in England?” +</p> + +<p> +He was reclining upon an old sail spread on the long-boat; and throwing back +his soiled but tasseled cap, and caressing one leg like a child, he looked up, +and said in his broken English—that seemed like mixing the potent wine of +Oporto with some delicious syrup:—said he, “Ah! I succeed very +well!—for I have tunes for the young and the old, the gay and the sad. I +have marches for military young men, and love-airs for the ladies, and solemn +sounds for the aged. I never draw a crowd, but I know from their faces what +airs will best please them; I never stop before a house, but I judge from its +portico for what tune they will soonest toss me some silver. And I ever play +sad airs to the merry, and merry airs to the sad; and most always the rich best +fancy the sad, and the poor the merry.” +</p> + +<p> +“But do you not sometimes meet with cross and crabbed old men,” +said Harry, “who would much rather have your room than your music?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sometimes,” said Carlo, playing with his foot, +“sometimes I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then, knowing the value of quiet to unquiet men, I suppose you never +leave them under a shilling?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” continued the boy, “I love my organ as I do myself, for +it is my only friend, poor organ! it sings to me when I am sad, and cheers me; +and I never play before a house, on purpose to be paid for leaving off, not I; +would I, poor organ?”— looking down the hatchway where it was. +“No, that I never have done, and never will do, though I starve; for when +people drive me away, I do not think my organ is to blame, but they themselves +are to blame; for such people’s musical pipes are cracked, and grown +rusted, that no more music can be breathed into their souls.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Carlo; no music like yours, perhaps,” said Harry, with a +laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! there’s the mistake. Though my organ is as full of melody, as +a hive is of bees; yet no organ can make music in unmusical breasts; no more +than my native winds can, when they breathe upon a harp without chords.” +</p> + +<p> +Next day was a serene and delightful one; and in the evening when the vessel +was just rippling along impelled by a gentle yet steady breeze, and the poor +emigrants, relieved from their late sufferings, were gathered on deck; Carlo +suddenly started up from his lazy reclinings; went below, and, assisted by the +emigrants, returned with his organ. +</p> + +<p> +Now, music is a holy thing, and its instruments, however humble, are to be +loved and revered. Whatever has made, or does make, or may make music, should +be held sacred as the golden bridle-bit of the Shah of Persia’s horse, +and the golden hammer, with which his hoofs are shod. Musical instruments +should be like the silver tongs, with which the high-priests tended the Jewish +altars—never to be touched by a hand profane. Who would bruise the +poorest reed of Pan, though plucked from a beggar’s hedge, would insult +the melodious god himself. +</p> + +<p> +And there is no humble thing with music in it, not a fife, not a negro-fiddle, +that is not to be reverenced as much as the grandest architectural organ that +ever rolled its flood-tide of harmony down a cathedral nave. For even a +Jew’s-harp may be so played, as to awaken all the fairies that are in us, +and make them dance in our souls, as on a moon-lit sward of violets. +</p> + +<p> +But what subtle power is this, residing in but a bit of steel, which might have +made a tenpenny nail, that so enters, without knocking, into our inmost beings, +and shows us all hidden things? +</p> + +<p> +Not in a spirit of foolish speculation altogether, in no merely transcendental +mood, did the glorious Greek of old fancy the human soul to be essentially a +harmony. And if we grant that theory of Paracelsus and Campanella, that every +man has four souls within him; then can we account for those banded sounds with +silver links, those quartettes of melody, that sometimes sit and sing within +us, as if our souls were baronial halls, and our music were made by the hoarest +old harpers of Wales. +</p> + +<p> +But look! here is poor Carlo’s organ; and while the silent crowd +surrounds him, there he stands, looking mildly but inquiringly about him; his +right hand pulling and twitching the ivory knobs at one end of his instrument. +</p> + +<p> +Behold the organ! +</p> + +<p> +Surely, if much virtue lurk in the old fiddles of Cremona, and if their melody +be in proportion to their antiquity, what divine ravishments may we not +anticipate from this venerable, embrowned old organ, which might almost have +played the Dead March in Saul, when King Saul himself was buried. +</p> + +<p> +A fine old organ! carved into fantastic old towers, and turrets, and belfries; +its architecture seems somewhat of the Gothic, monastic order; in front, it +looks like the West-Front of York Minster. +</p> + +<p> +What sculptured arches, leading into mysterious intricacies!—what +mullioned windows, that seem as if they must look into chapels flooded with +devotional sunsets!—what flying buttresses, and gable-ends, and niches +with saints!—But stop! ’tis a Moorish iniquity; for here, as I +live, is a Saracenic arch; which, for aught I know, may lead into some interior +Alhambra. +</p> + +<p> +Ay, it does; for as Carlo now turns his hand, I hear the gush of the Fountain +of Lions, as he plays some thronged Italian air—a mixed and liquid sea of +sound, that dashes its spray in my face. +</p> + +<p> +Play on, play on, Italian boy! what though the notes be broken, here’s +that within that mends them. Turn hither your pensive, morning eyes; and while +I list to the organs twain— one yours, one mine—let me gaze fathoms +down into thy fathomless eye;—’tis good as gazing down into the +great South Sea, and seeing the dazzling rays of the dolphins there. +</p> + +<p> +Play on, play on! for to every note come trooping, now, triumphant standards, +armies marching—all the pomp of sound. Methinks I am Xerxes, the nucleus +of the martial neigh of all the Persian studs. Like gilded damask-flies, thick +clustering on some lofty bough, my satraps swarm around me. +</p> + +<p> +But now the pageant passes, and I droop; while Carlo taps his ivory knobs; and +plays some flute-like saraband—soft, dulcet, dropping sounds, like silver +cans in bubbling brooks. And now a clanging, martial air, as if ten thousand +brazen trumpets, forged from spurs and swordhilts, called North, and South, and +East, to rush to West! +</p> + +<p> +Again—what blasted heath is this?—what goblin sounds of +Macbeth’s witches?—Beethoven’s Spirit Waltz! the muster-call +of sprites and specters. Now come, hands joined, Medusa, Hecate, she of Endor, +and all the Blocksberg’s, demons dire. +</p> + +<p> +Once more the ivory knobs are tapped; and long-drawn, golden sounds are +heard—some ode to Cleopatra; slowly loom, and solemnly expand, vast, +rounding orbs of beauty; and before me float innumerable queens, deep dipped in +silver gauzes. +</p> + +<p> +All this could Carlo do—make, unmake me; build me up; to pieces take me; +and join me limb to limb. He is the architect of domes of sound, and bowers of +song. +</p> + +<p> +And all is done with that old organ! Reverenced, then, be all street organs; +more melody is at the beck of my Italian boy, than lurks in squadrons of +Parisian orchestras. +</p> + +<p> +But look! Carlo has that to feast the eye as well as ear; and the same wondrous +magic in me, magnifies them into grandeur; though every figure greatly needs +the artist’s repairing hand, and sadly needs a dusting. +</p> + +<p> +His York Minster’s West-Front opens; and like the gates of Milton’s +heaven, it turns on golden hinges. +</p> + +<p> +What have we here? The inner palace of the Great Mogul? Group and gilded +columns, in confidential clusters; fixed fountains; canopies and lounges; and +lords and dames in silk and spangles. +</p> + +<p> +The organ plays a stately march; and presto! wide open arches; and out come, +two and two, with nodding plumes, in crimson turbans, a troop of martial men; +with jingling scimiters, they pace the hall; salute, pass on, and disappear. +</p> + +<p> +Now, ground and lofty tumblers; jet black Nubian slaves. They fling themselves +on poles; stand on their heads; and downward vanish. +</p> + +<p> +And now a dance and masquerade of figures, reeling from the side-doors, among +the knights and dames. Some sultan leads a sultaness; some emperor, a queen; +and jeweled sword-hilts of carpet knights fling back the glances tossed by +coquettes of countesses. +</p> + +<p> +On this, the curtain drops; and there the poor old organ stands, begrimed, and +black, and rickety. +</p> + +<p> +Now, tell me, Carlo, if at street corners, for a single penny, I may thus +transport myself in dreams Elysian, who so rich as I? Not he who owns a +million. +</p> + +<p> +And Carlo! ill betide the voice that ever greets thee, my Italian boy, with +aught but kindness; cursed the slave who ever drives thy wondrous box of sights +and sounds forth from a lordling’s door! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap50"></a>CHAPTER L.<br/> +HARRY BOLTON AT SEA</h2> + +<p> +As yet I have said nothing about how my friend, Harry, got along as a sailor. +</p> + +<p> +Poor Harry! a feeling of sadness, never to be comforted, comes over me, even +now when I think of you. For this voyage that you went, but carried you part of +the way to that ocean grave, which has buried you up with your secrets, and +whither no mourning pilgrimage can be made. +</p> + +<p> +But why this gloom at the thought of the dead? And why should we not be glad? +Is it, that we ever think of them as departed from all joy? Is it, that we +believe that indeed they are dead? They revisit us not, the departed; their +voices no more ring in the air; summer may come, but it is winter with them; +and even in our own limbs we feel not the sap that every spring renews the +green life of the trees. +</p> + +<p> +But Harry! you live over again, as I recall your image before me. I see you, +plain and palpable as in life; and can make your existence obvious to others. +Is he, then, dead, of whom this may be said? +</p> + +<p> +But Harry! you are mixed with a thousand strange forms, the centaurs of fancy; +half real and human, half wild and grotesque. Divine imaginings, like gods, +come down to the groves of our Thessalies, and there, in the embrace of wild, +dryad reminiscences, beget the beings that astonish the world. +</p> + +<p> +But Harry! though your image now roams in my Thessaly groves, it is the same as +of old; and among the droves of mixed beings and centaurs, you show like a +zebra, banding with elks. +</p> + +<p> +And indeed, in his striped Guernsey frock, dark glossy skin and hair, Harry +Bolton, mingling with the Highlander’s crew, looked not unlike the soft, +silken quadruped-creole, that, pursued by wild Bushmen, bounds through +Caffrarian woods. +</p> + +<p> +How they hunted you, Harry, my zebra! those ocean barbarians, those +unimpressible, uncivilized sailors of ours! How they pursued you from bowsprit +to mainmast, and started you out of your every retreat! +</p> + +<p> +Before the day of our sailing, it was known to the seamen that the girlish +youth, whom they daily saw near the sign of the Clipper in Union-street, would +form one of their homeward-bound crew. Accordingly, they cast upon him many a +critical glance; but were not long in concluding that Harry would prove no very +great accession to their strength; that the hoist of so tender an arm would not +tell many hundred-weight on the maintop-sail halyards. Therefore they disliked +him before they became acquainted with him; and such dislikes, as every one +knows, are the most inveterate, and liable to increase. But even sailors are +not blind to the sacredness that hallows a stranger; and for a time, abstaining +from rudeness, they only maintained toward my friend a cold and unsympathizing +civility. +</p> + +<p> +As for Harry, at first the novelty of the scene filled up his mind; and the +thought of being bound for a distant land, carried with it, as with every one, +a buoyant feeling of undefinable expectation. And though his money was now gone +again, all but a sovereign or two, yet that troubled him but little, in the +first flush of being at sea. +</p> + +<p> +But I was surprised, that one who had certainly seen much of life, should +evince such an incredible ignorance of what was wholly inadmissible in a person +situated as he was. But perhaps his familiarity with lofty life, only the less +qualified him for understanding the other extreme. Will you believe me, this +Bury blade once came on deck in a brocaded dressing-gown, embroidered slippers, +and tasseled smoking-cap, to stand his morning watch. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as I beheld him thus arrayed, a suspicion, which had previously crossed +my mind, again recurred, and I almost vowed to myself that, spite his +protestations, Harry Bolton never could have been at sea before, even as a +<i>Guinea-pig</i> in an Indiaman; for the slightest acquaintance with the +sea-life and sailors, should have prevented him, it would seem, from enacting +this folly. +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s that Chinese mandarin?” cried the mate, who had made +voyages to Canton. “Look you, my fine fellow, douse that mainsail now, +and furl it in a trice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir?” said Harry, starting back. “Is not this the morning +watch, and is not mine a morning gown?” +</p> + +<p> +But though, in my refined friend’s estimation, nothing could be more +appropriate; in the mate’s, it was the most monstrous of incongruities; +and the offensive gown and cap were removed. +</p> + +<p> +“It is too bad!” exclaimed Harry to me; “I meant to lounge +away the watch in that gown until coffee time;—and I suppose your +Hottentot of a mate won’t permit a gentleman to smoke his Turkish pipe of +a morning; but by gad, I’ll wear straps to my pantaloons to spite +him!” +</p> + +<p> +Oh! that was the rock on which you split, poor Harry! Incensed at the want of +polite refinement in the mates and crew, Harry, in a pet and pique, only +determined to provoke them the more; and the storm of indignation he raised +very soon overwhelmed him. +</p> + +<p> +The sailors took a special spite to his chest, a large mahogany one, which he +had had made to order at a furniture warehouse. It was ornamented with brass +screw-heads, and other devices; and was well filled with those articles of the +wardrobe in which Harry had sported through a London season; for the various +vests and pantaloons he had sold in Liverpool, when in want of money, had not +materially lessened his extensive stock. +</p> + +<p> +It was curious to listen to the various hints and opinings thrown out by the +sailors at the occasional glimpses they had of this collection of silks, +velvets, broadcloths, and satins. I do not know exactly what they thought Harry +had been; but they seemed unanimous in believing that, by abandoning his +country, Harry had left more room for the gamblers. Jackson even asked him to +lift up the lower hem of his browsers, to test the color of his calves. +</p> + +<p> +It is a noteworthy circumstance, that whenever a slender made youth, of easy +manners and polite address happens to form one of a ship’s company, the +sailors almost invariably impute his sea-going to an irresistible necessity of +decamping from terra-firma in order to evade the constables. +</p> + +<p> +These white-fingered gentry must be light-fingered too, they say to themselves, +or they would not be after putting their hands into our tar. What else can +bring them to sea? +</p> + +<p> +Cogent and conclusive this; and thus Harry, from the very beginning, was put +down for a very equivocal character. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes, however, they only made sport of his appearance; especially one +evening, when his monkey jacket being wet through, he was obliged to mount one +of his swallow-tailed coats. They said he carried two mizzen-peaks at his +stern; declared he was a broken-down quill-driver, or a footman to a Portuguese +running barber, or some old maid’s tobacco-boy. As for the captain, it +had become all the same to Harry as if there were no gentlemanly and +complaisant Captain Riga on board. For to his no small astonishment,—but +just as I had predicted,—Captain Riga never noticed him now, but left the +business of indoctrinating him into the little experiences of a +greenhorn’s career solely in the hands of his officers and crew. +</p> + +<p> +But the worst was to come. For the first few days, whenever there was any +running aloft to be done, I noticed that Harry was indefatigable in coiling +away the slack of the rigging about decks; ignoring the fact that his shipmates +were springing into the shrouds. And when all hands of the watch would be +engaged <i>clewing up a t’-gallant-sail,</i> that is, pulling the proper +ropes on deck that wrapped the sail up on the yard aloft, Harry would always +manage to get near the <i>belaying-pin, so</i> that when the time came for two +of us to spring into the rigging, he would be inordinately fidgety in making +fast the <i>clew-lines,</i> and would be so absorbed in that occupation, and +would so elaborate the hitchings round the pin, that it was quite impossible +for him, after doing so much, to mount over the bulwarks before his comrades +had got there. However, after securing the clew-lines beyond a possibility of +their getting loose, Harry would always make a feint of starting in a +prodigious hurry for the shrouds; but suddenly looking up, and seeing others in +advance, would retreat, apparently quite chagrined that he had been cut off +from the opportunity of signalizing his activity. +</p> + +<p> +At this I was surprised, and spoke to my friend; when the alarming fact was +confessed, that he had made a private trial of it, and it never would do: <i>he +could not go aloft;</i> his nerves would not hear of it. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Harry,” said I, “better you had never been born. Do +you know what it is that you are coming to? Did you not tell me that you made +no doubt you would acquit yourself well in the rigging? Did you not say that +you had been two voyages to Bombay? Harry, you were mad to ship. But you only +imagine it: try again; and my word for it, you will very soon find yourself as +much at home among the spars as a bird in a tree.” +</p> + +<p> +But he could not be induced to try it over again; the fact was, <i>his nerves +could not stand it;</i> in the course of his courtly career, he had drunk too +much strong Mocha coffee and gunpowder tea, and had smoked altogether too many +Havannas. +</p> + +<p> +At last, as I had repeatedly warned him, the mate singled him out one morning, +and commanded him to mount to the main-truck, and unreeve the short signal +halyards. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir?” said Harry, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“Away you go!” said the mate, snatching a whip’s end. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t strike me!” screamed Harry, drawing himself up. +</p> + +<p> +“Take that, and along with you,” cried the mate, laying the rope +once across his back, but lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“By heaven!” cried Harry, wincing—not with the blow, but the +insult: and then making a dash at the mate, who, holding out his long arm, kept +him lazily at bay, and laughed at him, till, had I not feared a broken head, I +should infallibly have pitched my boy’s bulk into the officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Riga!” cried Harry. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t call upon <i>him”</i> said the mate; “he’s +asleep, and won’t wake up till we strike Yankee soundings again. Up you +go!” he added, flourishing the rope’s end. +</p> + +<p> +Harry looked round among the grinning tars with a glance of terrible +indignation and agony; and then settling his eye on me, and seeing there no +hope, but even an admonition of obedience, as his only resource, he made one +bound into the rigging, and was up at the main-top in a trice. I thought a few +more springs would take him to the truck, and was a little fearful that in his +desperation he might then jump overboard; for I had heard of delirious +greenhorns doing such things at sea, and being lost forever. But no; he stopped +short, and looked down from the top. Fatal glance! it unstrung his every fiber; +and I saw him reel, and clutch the shrouds, till the mate shouted out for him +not to squeeze the tar out of the ropes. “Up you go, sir.” But +Harry said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“You Max,” cried the mate to the Dutch sailor, “spring after +him, and help him; you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +Max went up the rigging hand over hand, and brought his red head with a bump +against the base of Harry’s back. Needs must when the devil drives; and +higher and higher, with Max bumping him at every step, went my unfortunate +friend. At last he gained the royal yard, and the thin signal halyards—, +hardly bigger than common twine—were flying in the wind. +“Unreeve!” cried the mate. +</p> + +<p> +I saw Harry’s arm stretched out—his legs seemed shaking in the +rigging, even to us, down on deck; and at last, thank heaven! the deed was +done. +</p> + +<p> +He came down pale as death, with bloodshot eyes, and every limb quivering. From +that moment he never put foot in rattlin; never mounted above the bulwarks; and +for the residue of the voyage, at least, became an altered person. +</p> + +<p> +At the time, he went to the mate—since he could not get speech of the +captain—and conjured him to intercede with Riga, that his name might be +stricken off from the list of the ship’s company, so that he might make +the voyage as a steerage passenger; for which privilege, he bound himself to +pay, as soon as he could dispose of some things of his in New York, over and +above the ordinary passage-money. But the mate gave him a blunt denial; and a +look of wonder at his effrontery. Once a sailor on board a ship, and +<i>always</i> a sailor for that voyage, at least; for within so brief a period, +no officer can bear to associate on terms of any thing like equality with a +person whom he has ordered about at his pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +Harry then told the mate solemnly, that he might do what he pleased, but go +aloft again he <i>could</i> not, and <i>would</i> not. He would do any thing +else but that. +</p> + +<p> +This affair sealed Harry’s fate on board of the Highlander; the crew now +reckoned him fair play for their worst jibes and jeers, and he led a miserable +life indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Few landsmen can imagine the depressing and self-humiliating effects of finding +one’s self, for the first time, at the beck of illiterate sea-tyrants, +with no opportunity of exhibiting any trait about you, but your ignorance of +every thing connected with the sea-life that you lead, and the duties you are +constantly called upon to perform. In such a sphere, and under such +circumstances, Isaac Newton and Lord Bacon would be sea-clowns and bumpkins; +and Napoleon Bonaparte be cuffed and kicked without remorse. In more than one +instance I have seen the truth of this; and Harry, poor Harry, proved no +exception. And from the circumstances which exempted me from experiencing the +bitterest of these evils, I only the more felt for one who, from a strange +constitutional nervousness, before unknown even to himself, was become as a +hunted hare to the merciless crew. +</p> + +<p> +But how was it that Harry Bolton, who spite of his effeminacy of appearance, +had evinced, in our London trip, such unmistakable flashes of a spirit not +easily tamed—how was it, that he could now yield himself up to the almost +passive reception of contumely and contempt? Perhaps his spirit, for the time, +had been broken. But I will not undertake to explain; we are curious creatures, +as every one knows; and there are passages in the lives of all men, so out of +keeping with the common tenor of their ways, and so seemingly contradictory of +themselves, that only He who made us can expound them. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap51"></a>CHAPTER LI.<br/> +THE EMIGRANTS</h2> + +<p> +After the first miserable weather we experienced at sea, we had intervals of +foul and fair, mostly the former, however, attended with head winds, till at +last, after a three days’ fog and rain, the sun rose cheerily one +morning, and showed us Cape Clear. Thank heaven, we were out of the weather +emphatically called <i>“Channel weather,”</i> and the last we +should see of the eastern hemisphere was now in plain sight, and all the rest +was broad ocean. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Land ho!</i> was cried, as the dark purple headland grew out of the north. +At the cry, the Irish emigrants came rushing up the hatchway, thinking America +itself was at hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is it?” cried one of them, running out a little way on the +bowsprit. “Is <i>that</i> it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, it doesn’t look much like <i>ould</i> Ireland, does +it?” said Jackson. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit, honey:—and how long before we get there? +to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could exceed the disappointment and grief of the emigrants, when they +were at last informed, that the land to the north was their own native island, +which, after leaving three or four weeks previous in a steamboat for Liverpool, +was now close to them again; and that, after newly voyaging so many days from +the Mersey, the Highlander was only bringing them in view of the original home +whence they started. +</p> + +<p> +They were the most simple people I had ever seen. They seemed to have no +adequate idea of distances; and to them, America must have seemed as a place +just over a river. Every morning some of them came on deck, to see how much +nearer we were: and one old man would stand for hours together, looking +straight off from the bows, as if he expected to see New York city every +minute, when, perhaps, we were yet two thousand miles distant, and steering, +moreover, against a head wind. +</p> + +<p> +The only thing that ever diverted this poor old man from his earnest search for +land, was the occasional appearance of porpoises under the bows; when he would +cry out at the top of his voice—“Look, look, ye divils! look at the +great pigs of the sea!” +</p> + +<p> +At last, the emigrants began to think, that the ship had played them false; and +that she was bound for the East Indies, or some other remote place; and one +night, Jackson set a report going among them, that Riga purposed taking them to +Barbary, and selling them all for slaves; but though some of the old women +almost believed it, and a great weeping ensued among the children, yet the men +knew better than to believe such a ridiculous tale. +</p> + +<p> +Of all the emigrants, my Italian boy Carlo, seemed most at his ease. He would +lie all day in a dreamy mood, sunning himself in the long boat, and gazing out +on the sea. At night, he would bring up his organ, and play for several hours; +much to the delight of his fellow voyagers, who blessed him and his organ again +and again; and paid him for his music by furnishing him his meals. Sometimes, +the steward would come forward, when it happened to be very much of a +moonlight, with a message from the cabin, for Carlo to repair to the +quarterdeck, and entertain the gentlemen and ladies. +</p> + +<p> +There was a fiddler on board, as will presently be seen; and sometimes, by +urgent entreaties, he was induced to unite his music with Carlo’s, for +the benefit of the cabin occupants; but this was only twice or thrice: for this +fiddler deemed himself considerably elevated above the other +steerage-passengers; and did not much fancy the idea of fiddling to strangers; +and thus wear out his elbow, while persons, entirely unknown to him, and in +whose welfare he felt not the slightest interest, were curveting about in +famous high spirits. So for the most part, the gentlemen and ladies were fain +to dance as well as they could to my little Italian’s organ. +</p> + +<p> +It was the most accommodating organ in the world; for it could play any tune +that was called for; Carlo pulling in and out the ivory knobs at one side, and +so manufacturing melody at pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +True, some censorious gentlemen cabin-passengers protested, that such or such +an air, was not precisely according to Handel or Mozart; and some ladies, whom +I overheard talking about throwing their nosegays to Malibran at Covent Garden, +assured the attentive Captain Riga, that Carlo’s organ was a most +wretched affair, and made a horrible din. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ladies,” said the captain, bowing, “by your leave, I +think Carlo’s organ must have lost its mother, for it squeals like a pig +running after its dam.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry was incensed at these criticisms; and yet these cabin-people were all +ready enough to dance to poor Carlo’s music. +</p> + +<p> +“Carlo”—said I, one night, as he was marching forward from +the quarter-deck, after one of these sea-quadrilles, which took place during my +watch on deck:—“Carlo”—said I, “what do the +gentlemen and ladies give you for playing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Look!”—and he showed me three copper medals of Britannia and +her shield—three English pennies. +</p> + +<p> +Now, whenever we discover a dislike in us, toward any one, we should ever be a +little suspicious of ourselves. It may be, therefore, that the natural +antipathy with which almost all seamen and steerage-passengers, regard the +inmates of the cabin, was one cause at least, of my not feeling very charitably +disposed toward them, myself. +</p> + +<p> +Yes: that might have been; but nevertheless, I will let nature have her own way +for once; and here declare roundly, that, however it was, I cherished a feeling +toward these cabin-passengers, akin to contempt. Not because they happened to +be cabin-passengers: not at all: but only because they seemed the most finical, +miserly, mean men and women, that ever stepped over the Atlantic. +</p> + +<p> +One of them was an old fellow in a robust looking coat, with broad skirts; he +had a nose like a bottle of port-wine; and would stand for a whole hour, with +his legs straddling apart, and his hands deep down in his breeches pockets, as +if he had two mints at work there, coining guineas. He was an abominable +looking old fellow, with cold, fat, jelly-like eyes; and avarice, +heartlessness, and sensuality stamped all over him. He seemed all the time +going through some process of mental arithmetic; doing sums with dollars and +cents: his very mouth, wrinkled and drawn up at the corners, looked like a +purse. When he dies, his skull ought to be turned into a savings box, with the +till-hole between his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +Another of the cabin inmates, was a middle-aged Londoner, in a comical +Cockney-cut coat, with a pair of semicircular tails: so that he looked as if he +were sitting in a swing. He wore a spotted neckerchief; a short, little, +fiery-red vest; and striped pants, very thin in the calf, but very full about +the waist. There was nothing describable about him but his dress; for he had +such a meaningless face, I can not remember it; though I have a vague +impression, that it looked at the time, as if its owner was laboring under the +mumps. +</p> + +<p> +Then there were two or three buckish looking young fellows, among the rest; who +were all the time playing at cards on the poop, under the lee of the +<i>spanker;</i> or smoking cigars on the taffrail; or sat quizzing the emigrant +women with opera-glasses, leveled through the windows of the upper cabin. These +sparks frequently called for the steward to help them to brandy and water, and +talked about going on to Washington, to see Niagara Falls. +</p> + +<p> +There was also an old gentleman, who had brought with him three or four heavy +files of the <i>London Times,</i> and other papers; and he spent all his hours +in reading them, on the shady side of the deck, with one leg crossed over the +other; and without crossed legs, he never read at all. That was indispensable +to the proper understanding of what he studied. He growled terribly, when +disturbed by the sailors, who now and then were obliged to move him to get at +the ropes. +</p> + +<p> +As for the ladies, I have nothing to say concerning them; for ladies are like +creeds; if you can not speak well of them, say nothing. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap52"></a>CHAPTER LII.<br/> +THE EMIGRANTS’ KITCHEN</h2> + +<p> +I have made some mention of the “galley,” or great stove for the +steerage passengers, which was planted over the main hatches. +</p> + +<p> +During the outward-bound passage, there were so few occupants of the steerage, +that they had abundant room to do their cooking at this galley. But it was +otherwise now; for we had four or five hundred in the steerage; and all their +cooking was to be done by one fire; a pretty large one, to be sure, but, +nevertheless, small enough, considering the number to be accommodated, and the +fact that the fire was only to be kindled at certain hours. +</p> + +<p> +For the emigrants in these ships are under a sort of martial-law; and in all +their affairs are regulated by the despotic ordinances of the captain. And +though it is evident, that to a certain extent this is necessary, and even +indispensable; yet, as at sea no appeal lies beyond the captain, he too often +makes unscrupulous use of his power. And as for going to law with him at the +end of the voyage, you might as well go to law with the Czar of Russia. +</p> + +<p> +At making the fire, the emigrants take turns; as it is often very disagreeable +work, owing to the pitching of the ship, and the heaving of the spray over the +uncovered “galley.” Whenever I had the morning watch, from four to +eight, I was sure to see some poor fellow crawling up from below about +daybreak, and go to groping over the deck after bits of rope-yarn, or tarred +canvas, for kindling-stuff. And no sooner would the fire be fairly made, than +up came the old women, and men, and children; each armed with an iron pot or +saucepan; and invariably a great tumult ensued, as to whose turn to cook came +next; sometimes the more quarrelsome would fight, and upset each other’s +pots and pans. +</p> + +<p> +Once, an English lad came up with a little coffee-pot, which he managed to +crowd in between two pans. This done, he went below. Soon after a great +strapping Irishman, in knee-breeches and bare calves, made his appearance; and +eying the row of things on the fire, asked whose coffee-pot that was; upon +being told, he removed it, and put his own in its place; saying something about +that individual place belonging to him; and with that, he turned aside. +</p> + +<p> +Not long after, the boy came along again; and seeing his pot removed, made a +violent exclamation, and replaced it; which the Irishman no sooner perceived, +than he rushed at him, with his fists doubled. The boy snatched up the boiling +coffee, and spirted its contents all about the fellow’s bare legs; which +incontinently began to dance involuntary hornpipes and fandangoes, as a +preliminary to giving chase to the boy, who by this time, however, had +decamped. +</p> + +<p> +Many similar scenes occurred every day; nor did a single day pass, but scores +of the poor people got no chance whatever to do their cooking. +</p> + +<p> +This was bad enough; but it was a still more miserable thing, to see these poor +emigrants wrangling and fighting together for the want of the most ordinary +accommodations. But thus it is, that the very hardships to which such beings +are subjected, instead of uniting them, only tends, by imbittering their +tempers, to set them against each other; and thus they themselves drive the +strongest rivet into the chain, by which their social superiors hold them +subject. +</p> + +<p> +It was with a most reluctant hand, that every evening in the second dog-watch, +at the mate’s command, I would march up to the fire, and giving notice to +the assembled crowd, that the time was come to extinguish it, would dash it out +with my bucket of salt water; though many, who had long waited for a chance to +cook, had now to go away disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +The staple food of the Irish emigrants was oatmeal and water, boiled into what +is sometimes called <i>mush;</i> by the Dutch is known as <i>supaan;</i> by +sailors <i>burgoo;</i> by the New Englanders <i>hasty-pudding;</i> in which +hasty-pudding, by the way, the poet Barlow found the materials for a sort of +epic. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the steerage passengers, however, were provided with sea-biscuit, and +other perennial food, that was eatable all the year round, fire or no fire. +</p> + +<p> +There were several, moreover, who seemed better to do in the world than the +rest; who were well furnished with hams, cheese, Bologna sausages, Dutch +herrings, alewives, and other delicacies adapted to the contingencies of a +voyager in the steerage. +</p> + +<p> +There was a little old Englishman on board, who had been a grocer ashore, whose +greasy trunks seemed all pantries; and he was constantly using himself for a +cupboard, by transferring their contents into his own interior. He was a little +light of head, I always thought. He particularly doated on his long strings of +sausages; and would sometimes take them out, and play with them, wreathing them +round him, like an Indian juggler with charmed snakes. What with this +diversion, and eating his cheese, and helping himself from an inexhaustible +junk bottle, and smoking his pipe, and meditating, this crack-pated grocer made +time jog along with him at a tolerably easy pace. +</p> + +<p> +But by far the most considerable man in the steerage, in point of pecuniary +circumstances at least, was a slender little pale-faced English tailor, who it +seemed had engaged a passage for himself and wife in some imaginary section of +the ship, called the <i>second cabin,</i> which was feigned to combine the +comforts of the first cabin with the cheapness of the steerage. But it turned +out that this second cabin was comprised in the after part of the steerage +itself, with nothing intervening but a name. So to his no small disgust, he +found himself herding with the rabble; and his complaints to the captain were +unheeded. +</p> + +<p> +This luckless tailor was tormented the whole voyage by his wife, who was young +and handsome; just such a beauty as farmers’-boys fall in love with; she +had bright eyes, and red cheeks, and looked plump and happy. +</p> + +<p> +She was a sad coquette; and did not turn away, as she was bound to do, from the +dandy glances of the cabin bucks, who ogled her through their double-barreled +opera glasses. This enraged the tailor past telling; he would remonstrate with +his wife, and scold her; and lay his matrimonial commands upon her, to go below +instantly, out of sight. But the lady was not to be tyrannized over; and so she +told him. Meantime, the bucks would be still framing her in their lenses, +mightily enjoying the fun. The last resources of the poor tailor would be, to +start up, and make a dash at the rogues, with clenched fists; but upon getting +as far as the mainmast, the mate would accost him from over the rope that +divided them, and beg leave to communicate the fact, that he could come no +further. This unfortunate tailor was also a fiddler; and when fairly baited +into desperation, would rush for his instrument, and try to get rid of his +wrath by playing the most savage, remorseless airs he could think of. +</p> + +<p> +While thus employed, perhaps his wife would accost him— +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, my dear;” and lay her soft hand on his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +But Billy, he only fiddled harder. +</p> + +<p> +“Billy, my love!” +</p> + +<p> +The bow went faster and faster. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, now, Billy, my dear little fellow, let’s make it all +up;” and she bent over his knees, looking bewitchingly up at him, with +her irresistible eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Down went fiddle and bow; and the couple would sit together for an hour or two, +as pleasant and affectionate as possible. +</p> + +<p> +But the next day, the chances were, that the old feud would be renewed, which +was certain to be the case at the first glimpse of an opera-glass from the +cabin. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap53"></a>CHAPTER LIII.<br/> +THE HORATII AND CURIATII</h2> + +<p> +With a slight alteration, I might begin this chapter after the manner of Livy, +in the 24th section of his first book:—“It <i>happened, that in +each family were three twin brothers, between whom there was little disparity +in point of age or of strength.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Among the steerage passengers of the Highlander, were two women from Armagh, in +Ireland, widows and sisters, who had each three twin sons, born, as they said, +on the same day. +</p> + +<p> +They were ten years old. Each three of these six cousins were as like as the +mutually reflected figures in a kaleidoscope; and like the forms seen in a +kaleidoscope, together, as well as separately, they seemed to form a complete +figure. But, though besides this fraternal likeness, all six boys bore a strong +cousin-german resemblance to each other; yet, the O’Briens were in +disposition quite the reverse of the O’Regans. The former were a timid, +silent trio, who used to revolve around their mother’s waist, and seldom +quit the maternal orbit; whereas, the O’Regans were “broths of +boys,” full of mischief and fun, and given to all manner of devilment, +like the tails of the comets. +</p> + +<p> +Early every morning, Mrs. O’Regan emerged from the steerage, driving her +spirited twins before her, like a riotous herd of young steers; and made her +way to the capacious deck-tub, full of salt water, pumped up from the sea, for +the purpose of washing down the ship. Three splashes, and the three boys were +ducking and diving together in the brine; their mother engaged in +<i>shampooing</i> them, though it was haphazard sort of work enough; a rub +here, and a scrub there, as she could manage to fasten on a stray limb. +</p> + +<p> +“Pat, ye divil, hould still while I wash ye. Ah! but it’s you, +Teddy, you rogue. Arrah, now, Mike, ye spalpeen, don’t be mixing your +legs up with Pat’s.” +</p> + +<p> +The little rascals, leaping and scrambling with delight, enjoyed the sport +mightily; while this indefatigable, but merry matron, manipulated them all +over, as if it were a matter of conscience. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, Mrs. O’Brien would be standing on the boatswain’s +locker—or rope and tar-pot pantry in the vessel’s bows—with a +large old quarto Bible, black with age, laid before her between the +knight-heads, and reading aloud to her three meek little lambs. +</p> + +<p> +The sailors took much pleasure in the deck-tub performances of the +O’Regans, and greatly admired them always for their archness and +activity; but the tranquil O’Briens they did not fancy so much. More +especially they disliked the grave matron herself; hooded in rusty black; and +they had a bitter grudge against her book. To that, and the incantations +muttered over it, they ascribed the head winds that haunted us; and Blunt, our +Irish cockney, really believed that Mrs. O’Brien purposely came on deck +every morning, in order to secure a foul wind for the next ensuing twenty-four +hours. +</p> + +<p> +At last, upon her coming forward one morning, Max the Dutchman accosted her, +saying he was sorry for it, but if she went between the knight-heads again with +her book, the crew would throw it overboard for her. +</p> + +<p> +Now, although contrasted in character, there existed a great warmth of +affection between the two families of twins, which upon this occasion was +curiously manifested. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the rebuke and threat of the sailor, the widow silently +occupied her old place; and with her children clustering round her, began her +low, muttered reading, standing right in the extreme bows of the ship, and +slightly leaning over them, as if addressing the multitudinous waves from a +floating pulpit. Presently Max came behind her, snatched the book from her +hands, and threw it overboard. The widow gave a wail, and her boys set up a +cry. Their cousins, then ducking in the water close by, at once saw the cause +of the cry; and springing from the tub, like so many dogs, seized Max by the +legs, biting and striking at him: which, the before timid little O’Briens +no sooner perceived, than they, too, threw themselves on the enemy, and the +amazed seaman found himself baited like a bull by all six boys. +</p> + +<p> +And here it gives me joy to record one good thing on the part of the mate. He +saw the fray, and its beginning; and rushing forward, told Max that he would +harm the boys at his peril; while he cheered them on, as if rejoiced at their +giving the fellow such a tussle. At last Max, sorely scratched, bit, pinched, +and every way aggravated, though of course without a serious bruise, cried out +“enough!” and the assailants were ordered to quit him; but though +the three O’Briens obeyed, the three O’Regans hung on to him like +leeches, and had to be dragged off. +</p> + +<p> +“There now, you rascal,” cried the mate, “throw overboard +another Bible, and I’ll send you after it without a bowline.” +</p> + +<p> +This event gave additional celebrity to the twins throughout the vessel. That +morning all six were invited to the quarter-deck, and reviewed by the +cabin-passengers, the ladies manifesting particular interest in them, as they +always do concerning twins, which some of them show in public parks and +gardens, by stopping to look at them, and questioning their nurses. +</p> + +<p> +“And were you all born at one time?” asked an old lady, letting her +eye run in wonder along the even file of white heads. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, an’ we were,” said Teddy; “wasn’t we, +mother?” +</p> + +<p> +Many more questions were asked and answered, when a collection was taken up for +their benefit among these magnanimous cabin-passengers, which resulted in +starting all six boys in the world with a penny apiece. +</p> + +<p> +I never could look at these little fellows without an inexplicable feeling +coming over me; and though there was nothing so very remarkable or +unprecedented about them, except the singular coincidence of two sisters +simultaneously making the world such a generous present; yet, the mere fact of +there being twins always seemed curious; in fact, to me at least, all twins are +prodigies; and still I hardly know why this should be; for all of us in our own +persons furnish numerous examples of the same phenomenon. Are not our thumbs +twins? A regular Castor and Pollux? And all of our fingers? Are not our arms, +hands, legs, feet, eyes, ears, all twins; born at one birth, and as much alike +as they possibly can be? +</p> + +<p> +Can it be, that the Greek grammarians invented their dual number for the +particular benefit of twins? +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap54"></a>CHAPTER LIV.<br/> +SOME SUPERIOR OLD NAIL-ROD AND <i>PIG-TAIL</i></h2> + +<p> +It has been mentioned how advantageously my shipmates disposed of their tobacco +in Liverpool; but it is to be related how those nefarious commercial +speculations of theirs reduced them to sad extremities in the end. +</p> + +<p> +True to their improvident character, and seduced by the high prices paid for +the weed in England, they had there sold off by far the greater portion of what +tobacco they had; even inducing the mate to surrender the portion he had +secured under lock and key by command of the Custom-house officers. So that +when the crew were about two weeks out, on the homeward-bound passage, it +became sorrowfully evident that tobacco was at a premium. +</p> + +<p> +Now, one of the favorite pursuits of sailors during a dogwatch below at sea is +cards; and though they do not understand whist, cribbage, and games of that +kidney, yet they are adepts at what is called +<i>“High-low-Jack-and-the-game,”</i> which name, indeed, has a +Jackish and nautical flavor. Their stakes are generally so many plugs of +tobacco, which, like rouleaux of guineas, are piled on their chests when they +play. Judge, then, the wicked zest with which the Highlander’s crew now +shuffled and dealt the pack; and how the interest curiously and invertedly +increased, as the stakes necessarily became less and less; and finally resolved +themselves into <i>“chaws.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +So absorbed, at last, did they become at this business, that some of them, +after being hard at work during a nightwatch on deck, would rob themselves of +rest below, in order to have a brush at the cards. And as it is very difficult +sleeping in the presence of gamblers; especially if they chance to be sailors, +whose conversation at all times is apt to be boisterous; these fellows would +often be driven out of the forecastle by those who desired to rest. They were +obliged to repair on deck, and make a card-table of it; and invariably, in such +cases, there was a great deal of contention, a great many ungentlemanly charges +of nigging and cheating; and, now and then, a few parenthetical blows were +exchanged. +</p> + +<p> +But this was not so much to be wondered at, seeing they could see but very +little, being provided with no light but that of a midnight sky; and the cards, +from long wear and rough usage, having become exceedingly torn and tarry, so +much so, that several members of the four suits might have seceded from their +respective clans, and formed into a fifth tribe, under the name of +<i>“Tar-spots.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Every day the tobacco grew scarcer and scarcer; till at last it became +necessary to adopt the greatest possible economy in its use. The modicum +constituting an ordinary <i>“chaw,”</i> was made to last a whole +day; and at night, permission being had from the cook, this self-same +<i>“chaw”</i> was placed in the oven of the stove, and there dried; +so as to do duty in a pipe. +</p> + +<p> +In the end not a plug was to be had; and deprived of a solace and a stimulus, +on which sailors so much rely while at sea, the crew became absent, moody, and +sadly tormented with the hypos. They were something like opium-smokers, +suddenly cut off from their drug. They would sit on their chests, forlorn and +moping; with a steadfast sadness, eying the forecastle lamp, at which they had +lighted so many a pleasant pipe. With touching eloquence they recalled those +happier evenings—the time of smoke and vapor; when, after a whole +day’s delectable <i>“chawing,”</i> they beguiled themselves +with their genial, and most companionable puffs. +</p> + +<p> +One night, when they seemed more than usually cast down and disconsolate, +Blunt, the Irish cockney, started up suddenly with an idea in his +head—“Boys, let’s search under the bunks!” Bless you, +Blunt! what a happy conceit! Forthwith, the chests were dragged out; the dark +places explored; and two sticks of <i>nail-rod</i> tobacco, and several old +<i>“chaws,”</i> thrown aside by sailors on some previous voyage, +were their cheering reward. They were impartially divided by Jackson, who, upon +this occasion, acquitted himself to the satisfaction of all. +</p> + +<p> +Their mode of dividing this tobacco was the rather curious one generally +adopted by sailors, when the highest possible degree of impartiality is +desirable. I will describe it, recommending its earnest consideration to all +heirs, who may hereafter divide an inheritance; for if they adopted this +nautical method, that universally slanderous aphorism of Lavater would be +forever rendered nugatory—“Expect <i>not to understand any man till +you have divided with him an inheritance.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +The <i>nail-rods</i> they cut as evenly as possible into as many parts as there +were men to be supplied; and this operation having been performed in the +presence of all, Jackson, placing the tobacco before him, his face to the wall, +and back to the company, struck one of the bits of weed with his knife, crying +out, “Whose is this?” Whereupon a respondent, previously pitched +upon, replied, at a venture, from the opposite corner of the forecastle, +“Blunt’s;” and to Blunt it went; and so on, in like manner, +till all were served. +</p> + +<p> +I put it to you, lawyers—shade of Blackstone, I invoke you—if a +more impartial procedure could be imagined than this? +</p> + +<p> +But the nail-rods and last-voyage <i>“chaws”</i> were soon gone, +and then, after a short interval of comparative gayety, the men again drooped, +and relapsed into gloom. +</p> + +<p> +They soon hit upon an ingenious device, however—but not altogether new +among seamen—to allay the severity of the depression under which they +languished. Ropes were unstranded, and the yarns picked apart; and, cut up into +small bits, were used as a substitute for the weed. Old ropes were preferred; +especially those which had long lain in the hold, and had contracted an +epicurean dampness, making still richer their ancient, cheese-like flavor. +</p> + +<p> +In the middle of most large ropes, there is a straight, central part, round +which the exterior strands are twisted. When in picking oakum, upon various +occasions, I have chanced, among the old junk used at such times, to light upon +a fragment of this species of rope, I have ever taken, I know not what kind of +strange, nutty delight in untwisting it slowly, and gradually coming upon its +deftly hidden and aromatic <i>“heart;”</i> for so this central +piece is denominated. +</p> + +<p> +It is generally of a rich, tawny, Indian hue, somewhat inclined to luster; is +exceedingly agreeable to the touch; diffuses a pungent odor, as of an old dusty +bottle of Port, newly opened above ground; and, altogether, is an object which +no man, who enjoys his dinners, could refrain from hanging over, and caressing. +</p> + +<p> +Nor is this delectable morsel of <i>old junk</i> wanting in many interesting, +mournful, and tragic suggestions. Who can say in what gales it may have been; +in what remote seas it may have sailed? How many stout masts of seventy-fours +and frigates it may have staid in the tempest? How deep it may have lain, as a +hawser, at the bottom of strange harbors? What outlandish fish may have nibbled +at it in the water, and what un-catalogued sea-fowl may have pecked at it, when +forming part of a lofty stay or a shroud? +</p> + +<p> +Now, this particular part of the rope, this nice little “cut” it +was, that among the sailors was the most eagerly sought after. And getting hold +of a foot or two of old cable, they would cut into it lovingly, to see whether +it had any <i>“tenderloin.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +For my own part, nevertheless, I can not say that this tit-bit was at all an +agreeable one in the mouth; however pleasant to the sight of an antiquary, or +to the nose of an epicure in nautical fragrancies. Indeed, though possibly I +might have been mistaken, I thought it had rather an astringent, acrid taste; +probably induced by the tar, with which the flavor of all ropes is more or less +vitiated. But the sailors seemed to like it, and at any rate nibbled at it with +great gusto. They converted one pocket of their trowsers into a junk-shop, and +when solicited by a shipmate for a <i>“chaw,”</i> would produce a +small coil of rope. +</p> + +<p> +Another device adopted to alleviate their hardships, was the substitution of +dried tea-leaves, in place of tobacco, for their pipes. No one has ever supped +in a forecastle at sea, without having been struck by the prodigious residuum +of tea-leaves, or cabbage stalks, in his tin-pot of bohea. There was no lack of +material to supply every pipe-bowl among us. +</p> + +<p> +I had almost forgotten to relate the most noteworthy thing in this matter; +namely, that notwithstanding the general scarcity of the genuine weed, Jackson +was provided with a supply; nor did it give out, until very shortly previous to +our arrival in port. +</p> + +<p> +In the lowest depths of despair at the loss of their precious solace, when the +sailors would be seated inconsolable as the Babylonish captives, Jackson would +sit cross-legged in his bunk, which was an upper one, and enveloped in a cloud +of tobacco smoke, would look down upon the mourners below, with a sardonic grin +at their forlornness. +</p> + +<p> +He recalled to mind their folly in selling for filthy lucre, their supplies of +the weed; he painted their stupidity; he enlarged upon the sufferings they had +brought upon themselves; he exaggerated those sufferings, and every way +derided, reproached, twitted, and hooted at them. No one dared to return his +scurrilous animadversions, nor did any presume to ask him to relieve their +necessities out of his fullness. On the contrary, as has been just related, +they divided with him the <i>nail-rods</i> they found. +</p> + +<p> +The extraordinary dominion of this one miserable Jackson, over twelve or +fourteen strong, healthy tars, is a riddle, whose solution must be left to the +philosophers. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap55"></a>CHAPTER LV.<br/> +DRAWING NIGH TO THE LAST SCENE IN JACKSON’S CAREER</h2> + +<p> +The closing allusion to Jackson in the chapter preceding, reminds me of a +circumstance—which, perhaps, should have been mentioned before—that +after we had been at sea about ten days, he pronounced himself too unwell to do +duty, and accordingly went below to his bunk. And here, with the exception of a +few brief intervals of sunning himself in fine weather, he remained on his +back, or seated cross-legged, during the remainder of the homeward-bound +passage. +</p> + +<p> +Brooding there, in his infernal gloom, though nothing but a castaway sailor in +canvas trowsers, this man was still a picture, worthy to be painted by the +dark, moody hand of Salvator. In any of that master’s lowering +sea-pieces, representing the desolate crags of Calabria, with a midnight +shipwreck in the distance, this Jackson’s would have been the face to +paint for the doomed vessel’s figurehead, seamed and blasted by +lightning. +</p> + +<p> +Though the more sneaking and cowardly of my shipmates whispered among +themselves, that Jackson, sure of his wages, whether on duty or off, was only +feigning indisposition, nevertheless it was plain that, from his excesses in +Liverpool, the malady which had long fastened its fangs in his flesh, was now +gnawing into his vitals. +</p> + +<p> +His cheek became thinner and yellower, and the bones projected like those of a +skull. His snaky eyes rolled in red sockets; nor could he lift his hand without +a violent tremor; while his racking cough many a time startled us from sleep. +Yet still in his tremulous grasp he swayed his scepter, and ruled us all like a +tyrant to the last. +</p> + +<p> +The weaker and weaker he grew, the more outrageous became his treatment of the +crew. The prospect of the speedy and unshunable death now before him, seemed to +exasperate his misanthropic soul into madness; and as if he had indeed sold it +to Satan, he seemed determined to die with a curse between his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +I can never think of him, even now, reclining in his bunk, and with short +breaths panting out his maledictions, but I am reminded of that misanthrope +upon the throne of the world—the diabolical Tiberius at Caprese; who even +in his self-exile, imbittered by bodily pangs, and unspeakable mental terrors +only known to the damned on earth, yet did not give over his blasphemies but +endeavored to drag down with him to his own perdition, all who came within the +evil spell of his power. And though Tiberius came in the succession of the +Caesars, and though unmatchable Tacitus has embalmed his carrion, yet do I +account this Yankee Jackson full as dignified a personage as he, and as well +meriting his lofty gallows in history; even though he was a nameless vagabond +without an epitaph, and none, but I, narrate what he was. For there is no +dignity in wickedness, whether in purple or rags; and hell is a democracy of +devils, where all are equals. There, Nero howls side by side with his own +malefactors. If Napoleon were truly but a martial murderer, I pay him no more +homage than I would a felon. Though Milton’s Satan dilutes our abhorrence +with admiration, it is only because he is not a genuine being, but something +altered from a genuine original. We gather not from the four gospels alone, any +high-raised fancies concerning this Satan; we only know him from thence as the +personification of the essence of evil, which, who but pickpockets and burglars +will admire? But this takes not from the merit of our high-priest of poetry; it +only enhances it, that with such unmitigated evil for his material, he should +build up his most goodly structure. But in historically canonizing on earth the +condemned below, and lifting up and lauding the illustrious damned, we do but +make examples of wickedness; and call upon ambition to do some great iniquity, +and be sure of fame. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap56"></a>CHAPTER LVI.<br/> +UNDER THE LEE OF THE LONG-BOAT, REDBURN AND HARRY HOLD CONFIDENTIAL +COMMUNION</h2> + +<p> +A sweet thing is a song; and though the Hebrew captives hung their harps on the +willows, that they could not sing the melodies of Palestine before the haughty +beards of the Babylonians; yet, to themselves, those melodies of other times +and a distant land were as sweet as the June dew on Hermon. +</p> + +<p> +And poor Harry was as the Hebrews. He, too, had been carried away captive, +though his chief captor and foe was himself; and he, too, many a night, was +called upon to sing for those who through the day had insulted and derided him. +</p> + +<p> +His voice was just the voice to proceed from a small, silken person like his; +it was gentle and liquid, and meandered and tinkled through the words of a +song, like a musical brook that winds and wantons by pied and pansied margins. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>I</i> can’t sing to-night”—sadly said Harry to the +Dutchman, who with his watchmates requested him to while away the middle watch +with his melody—“I can’t sing to-night. But, +Wellingborough,” he whispered,—and I stooped my ear,— +“come <i>you</i> with me under the lee of the long-boat, and there +I’ll hum you an air.” +</p> + +<p> +It was <i>The Banks of the Blue Moselle.</i> +</p> + +<p> +Poor, poor Harry! and a thousand times friendless and forlorn! To be singing +that thing, which was only meant to be warbled by falling fountains in gardens, +or in elegant alcoves in drawing-rooms,—to be singing it +<i>here—here,</i> as I live, under the tarry lee of our long-boat. +</p> + +<p> +But he sang, and sang, as I watched the waves, and peopled them all with +sprites, and cried <i>“chassez!” “hands across!”</i> to +the multitudinous quadrilles, all danced on the moonlit, musical floor. +</p> + +<p> +But though it went so hard with my friend to sing his songs to this ruffian +crew, whom he hated, even in his dreams, till the foam flew from his mouth +while he slept; yet at last I prevailed upon him to master his feelings, and +make them subservient to his interests. For so delighted, even with the rudest +minstrelsy, are sailors, that I well knew Harry possessed a spell over them, +which, for the time at least, they could not resist; and it might induce them +to treat with more deference the being who was capable of yielding them such +delight. Carlo’s organ they did not so much care for; but the voice of my +Bury blade was an accordion in their ears. +</p> + +<p> +So one night, on the windlass, he sat and sang; and from the ribald jests so +common to sailors, the men slid into silence at every verse. Hushed, and more +hushed they grew, till at last Harry sat among them like Orpheus among the +charmed leopards and tigers. Harmless now the fangs with which they were wont +to tear my zebra, and backward curled in velvet paws; and fixed their once +glaring eyes in fascinated and fascinating brilliancy. Ay, still and hissingly +all, for a time, they relinquished their prey. +</p> + +<p> +Now, during the voyage, the treatment of the crew threw Harry more and more +upon myself for companionship; and few can keep constant company with another, +without revealing some, at least, of their secrets; for all of us yearn for +sympathy, even if we do not for love; and to be intellectually alone is a thing +only tolerable to genius, whose cherisher and inspirer is solitude. +</p> + +<p> +But though my friend became more communicative concerning his past career than +ever he had been before, yet he did not make plain many things in his hitherto +but partly divulged history, which I was very curious to know; and especially +he never made the remotest allusion to aught connected with our trip to London; +while the oath of secrecy by which he had bound me held my curiosity on that +point a captive. However, as it was, Harry made many very interesting +disclosures; and if he did not gratify me more in that respect, he atoned for +it in a measure, by dwelling upon the future, and the prospects, such as they +were, which the future held out to him. +</p> + +<p> +He confessed that he had no money but a few shillings left from the expenses of +our return from London; that only by selling some more of his clothing, could +he pay for his first week’s board in New York; and that he was altogether +without any regular profession or business, upon which, by his own exertions, +he could securely rely for support. And yet, he told me that he was determined +never again to return to England; and that somewhere in America he must work +out his temporal felicity. +</p> + +<p> +“I have forgotten England,” he said, “and never more mean to +think of it; so tell me, Wellingborough, what am I to do in America?” +</p> + +<p> +It was a puzzling question, and full of grief to me, who, young though I was, +had been well rubbed, curried, and ground down to fine powder in the hopper of +an evil fortune, and who therefore could sympathize with one in similar +circumstances. For though we may look grave and behave kindly and considerately +to a friend in calamity; yet, if we have never actually experienced something +like the woe that weighs him down, we can not with the best grace proffer our +sympathy. And perhaps there is no true sympathy but between equals; and it may +be, that we should distrust that man’s sincerity, who stoops to condole +with us. +</p> + +<p> +So Harry and I, two friendless wanderers, beguiled many a long watch by talking +over our common affairs. But inefficient, as a benefactor, as I certainly was; +still, being an American, and returning to my home; even as he was a stranger, +and hurrying from his; therefore, I stood toward him in the attitude of the +prospective doer of the honors of my country; I accounted him the +nation’s guest. Hence, I esteemed it more befitting, that I should rather +talk with him, than he with me: that <i>his</i> prospects and plans should +engage our attention, in preference to my own. +</p> + +<p> +Now, seeing that Harry was so brave a songster, and could sing such bewitching +airs: I suggested whether his musical talents could not be turned to account. +The thought struck him most favorably—“Gad, my boy, you have hit +it, you have,” and then he went on to mention, that in some places in +England, it was customary for two or three young men of highly respectable +families, of undoubted antiquity, but unfortunately in lamentably decayed +circumstances, and thread-bare coats—it was customary for two or three +young gentlemen, so situated, to obtain their livelihood by their voices: +coining their silvery songs into silvery shillings. +</p> + +<p> +They wandered from door to door, and rang the bell—Are <i>the ladies and +gentlemen in?</i> Seeing them at least gentlemanly looking, if not sumptuously +appareled, the servant generally admitted them at once; and when the people +entered to greet them, their spokesman would rise with a gentle bow, and a +smile, and say, <i>We come, ladies and gentlemen, to sing you a song: we are +singers, at your service.</i> And so, without waiting reply, forth they burst +into song; and having most mellifluous voices, enchanted and transported all +auditors; so much so, that at the conclusion of the entertainment, they very +seldom failed to be well recompensed, and departed with an invitation to return +again, and make the occupants of that dwelling once more delighted and happy. +</p> + +<p> +“Could not something of this kind now, be done in New York?” said +Harry, “or are there no parlors with ladies in them, there?” he +anxiously added. +</p> + +<p> +Again I assured him, as I had often done before, that New York was a civilized +and enlightened town; with a large population, fine streets, fine houses, nay, +plenty of omnibuses; and that for the most part, he would almost think himself +in England; so similar to England, in essentials, was this outlandish America +that haunted him. +</p> + +<p> +I could not but be struck—and had I not been, from my birth, as it were, +a cosmopolite—I had been amazed at his skepticism with regard to the +civilization of my native land. A greater patriot than myself might have +resented his insinuations. He seemed to think that we Yankees lived in wigwams, +and wore bear-skins. After all, Harry was a spice of a Cockney, and had shut up +his Christendom in London. +</p> + +<p> +Having then assured him, that I could see no reason, why he should not play the +troubadour in New York, as well as elsewhere; he suddenly popped upon me the +question, whether I would not join him in the enterprise; as it would be quite +out of the question to go alone on such a business. +</p> + +<p> +Said I, “My dear Bury, I have no more voice for a ditty, than a dumb man +has for an oration. Sing? Such Macadamized lungs have I, that I think myself +well off, that I can talk; let alone nightingaling.” +</p> + +<p> +So that plan was quashed; and by-and-by Harry began to give up the idea of +singing himself into a livelihood. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I won’t sing for my mutton,” said he—“what +would Lady Georgiana say?” +</p> + +<p> +“If I could see her ladyship once, I might tell you, Harry,” +returned I, who did not exactly doubt him, but felt ill at ease for my bosom +friend’s conscience, when he alluded to his various noble and right +honorable friends and relations. +</p> + +<p> +“But surely, Bury, my friend, you must write a clerkly hand, among your +other accomplishments; and <i>that</i> at least, will be sure to help +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I <i>do</i> write a hand,” he gladly rejoined—“there, +look at the implement!—do you not think, that such a hand as <i>that</i> +might dot an <i>i,</i> or cross a <i>t,</i> with a touching grace and +tenderness?” +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, but it did betoken a most excellent penmanship. It was small; and the +fingers were long and thin; the knuckles softly rounded; the nails +hemispherical at the base; and the smooth palm furnishing few characters for an +Egyptian fortune-teller to read. It was not as the sturdy farmer’s hand +of Cincinnatus, who followed the plough and guided the state; but it was as the +perfumed hand of Petronius Arbiter, that elegant young buck of a Roman, who +once cut great Seneca dead in the forum. +</p> + +<p> +His hand alone, would have entitled my Bury blade to the suffrages of that +Eastern potentate, who complimented Lord Byron upon his feline fingers, +declaring that they furnished indubitable evidence of his noble birth. And so +it did: for Lord Byron was as all the rest of us—the son of a <i>man.</i> +And so are the dainty-handed, and wee-footed half-cast paupers in Lima; who, if +their hands and feet were entitled to consideration, would constitute the +oligarchy of all Peru. +</p> + +<p> +Folly and foolishness! to think that a gentleman is known by his finger-nails, +like Nebuchadnezzar, when his grew long in the pasture: or that the badge of +nobility is to be found in the smallness of the foot, when even a fish has no +foot at all! +</p> + +<p> +Dandies! amputate yourselves, if you will; but know, and be assured, oh, +democrats, that, like a pyramid, a great man stands on a broad base. It is only +the brittle porcelain pagoda, that tottles on a toe. +</p> + +<p> +But though Harry’s hand was lady-like looking, and had once been white as +the queen’s cambric handkerchief, and free from a stain as the reputation +of Diana; yet, his late pulling and hauling of halyards and clew-lines, and his +occasional dabbling in tar-pots and slush-shoes, had somewhat subtracted from +its original daintiness. +</p> + +<p> +Often he ruefully eyed it. +</p> + +<p> +Oh! hand! thought Harry, ah, hand! what have you come to? Is it seemly, that +you should be polluted with pitch, when you once handed countesses to their +coaches? Is <i>this</i> the hand I kissed to the divine Georgiana? with which I +pledged Lady Blessington, and ratified my bond to Lord Lovely? <i>This</i> the +hand that Georgiana clasped to her bosom, when she vowed she was +mine?—Out of sight, recreant and apostate!—deep +down—disappear in this foul monkey-jacket pocket where I thrust you! +</p> + +<p> +After many long conversations, it was at last pretty well decided, that upon +our arrival at New York, some means should be taken among my few friends there, +to get Harry a place in a mercantile house, where he might flourish his pen, +and gently exercise his delicate digits, by traversing some soft foolscap; in +the same way that slim, pallid ladies are gently drawn through a park for an +airing. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap57"></a>CHAPTER LVII.<br/> +ALMOST A FAMINE</h2> + +<p> +“Mammy! mammy! come and see the sailors eating out of little troughs, +just like our pigs at home.” Thus exclaimed one of the steerage children, +who at dinner-time was peeping down into the forecastle, where the crew were +assembled, helping themselves from the “kids,” which, indeed, +resemble hog-troughs not a little. +</p> + +<p> +“Pigs, is it?” coughed Jackson, from his bunk, where he sat +presiding over the banquet, but not partaking, like a devil who had lost his +appetite by chewing sulphur.—“Pigs, is it?—and the day is +close by, ye spalpeens, when you’ll want to be after taking a sup at our +troughs!” +</p> + +<p> +This malicious prophecy proved true. +</p> + +<p> +As day followed day without glimpse of shore or reef, and head winds drove the +ship back, as hounds a deer; the improvidence and shortsightedness of the +passengers in the steerage, with regard to their outfits for the voyage, began +to be followed by the inevitable results. +</p> + +<p> +Many of them at last went aft to the mate, saying that they had nothing to eat, +their provisions were expended, and they must be supplied from the ship’s +stores, or starve. +</p> + +<p> +This was told to the captain, who was obliged to issue a ukase from the cabin, +that every steerage passenger, whose destitution was demonstrable, should be +given one sea-biscuit and two potatoes a day; a sort of substitute for a muffin +and a brace of poached eggs. +</p> + +<p> +But this scanty ration was quite insufficient to satisfy their hunger: hardly +enough to satisfy the necessities of a healthy adult. The consequence was, that +all day long, and all through the night, scores of the emigrants went about the +decks, seeking what they might devour. They plundered the chicken-coop; and +disguising the fowls, cooked them at the public galley. They made inroads upon +the pig-pen in the boat, and carried off a promising young shoat: <i>him</i> +they devoured raw, not venturing to make an incognito of his carcass; they +prowled about the cook’s caboose, till he threatened them with a ladle of +scalding water; they waylaid the steward on his regular excursions from the +cook to the cabin; they hung round the forecastle, to rob the bread-barge; they +beset the sailors, like beggars in the streets, craving a mouthful in the name +of the Church. +</p> + +<p> +At length, to such excesses were they driven, that the Grand Russian, Captain +Riga, issued another ukase, and to this effect: Whatsoever emigrant is found +guilty of stealing, the same shall be tied into the rigging and flogged. +</p> + +<p> +Upon this, there were secret movements in the steerage, which almost alarmed me +for the safety of the ship; but nothing serious took place, after all; and they +even acquiesced in, or did not resent, a singular punishment which the captain +caused to be inflicted upon a culprit of their clan, as a substitute for a +flogging. For no doubt he thought that such rigorous discipline as <i>that</i> +might exasperate five hundred emigrants into an insurrection. +</p> + +<p> +A head was fitted to one of the large deck-tubs—the half of a cask; and +into this head a hole was cut; also, two smaller holes in the bottom of the +tub. The head—divided in the middle, across the diameter of the +orifice—was now fitted round the culprit’s neck; and he was +forthwith coopered up into the tub, which rested on his shoulders, while his +legs protruded through the holes in the bottom. +</p> + +<p> +It was a burden to carry; but the man could walk with it; and so ridiculous was +his appearance, that spite of the indignity, he himself laughed with the rest +at the figure he cut. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Pat, my boy,” said the mate, “fill that big wooden +belly of yours, if you can.” +</p> + +<p> +Compassionating his situation, our old “doctor” used to give him +alms of food, placing it upon the cask-head before him; till at last, when the +time for deliverance came, Pat protested against mercy, and would fain have +continued playing Diogenes in the tub for the rest of this starving voyage. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap58"></a>CHAPTER LVIII.<br/> +THOUGH THE HIGHLANDER PUTS INTO NO HARBOR AS YET; SHE HERE AND THERE LEAVES +MANY OF HER PASSENGERS BEHIND</h2> + +<p> +Although fast-sailing ships, blest with prosperous breezes, have frequently +made the run across the Atlantic in eighteen days; yet, it is not uncommon for +other vessels to be forty, or fifty, and even sixty, seventy, eighty, and +ninety days, in making the same passage. Though in the latter cases, some +signal calamity or incapacity must occasion so great a detention. It is also +true, that generally the passage out from America is shorter than the return; +which is to be ascribed to the prevalence of westerly winds. +</p> + +<p> +We had been outside of Cape Clear upward of twenty days, still harassed by +head-winds, though with pleasant weather upon the whole, when we were visited +by a succession of rain storms, which lasted the greater part of a week. +</p> + +<p> +During the interval, the emigrants were obliged to remain below; but this was +nothing strange to some of them; who, not recovering, while at sea, from their +first attack of seasickness, seldom or never made their appearance on deck, +during the entire passage. +</p> + +<p> +During the week, now in question, fire was only once made in the public galley. +This occasioned a good deal of domestic work to be done in the steerage, which +otherwise would have been done in the open air. When the lulls of the +rain-storms would intervene, some unusually cleanly emigrant would climb to the +deck, with a bucket of slops, to toss into the sea. No experience seemed +sufficient to instruct some of these ignorant people in the simplest, and most +elemental principles of ocean-life. Spite of all lectures on the subject, +several would continue to shun the leeward side of the vessel, with their +slops. One morning, when it was blowing very fresh, a simple fellow pitched +over a gallon or two of something to windward. Instantly it flew back in his +face; and also, in the face of the chief mate, who happened to be standing by +at the time. The offender was collared, and shaken on the spot; and ironically +commanded, never, for the future, to throw any thing to windward at sea, but +fine ashes and scalding hot water. +</p> + +<p> +During the frequent <i>hard blows</i> we experienced, the hatchways on the +steerage were, at intervals, hermetically closed; sealing down in their noisome +den, those scores of human beings. It was something to be marveled at, that the +shocking fate, which, but a short time ago, overtook the poor passengers in a +Liverpool steamer in the Channel, during similar stormy weather, and under +similar treatment, did not overtake some of the emigrants of the Highlander. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, it was, beyond question, this noisome confinement in so close, +unventilated, and crowded a den: joined to the deprivation of sufficient food, +from which many were suffering; which, helped by their personal uncleanliness, +brought on a malignant fever. +</p> + +<p> +The first report was, that two persons were affected. No sooner was it known, +than the mate promptly repaired to the medicine-chest in the cabin: and with +the remedies deemed suitable, descended into the steerage. But the medicines +proved of no avail; the invalids rapidly grew worse; and two more of the +emigrants became infected. +</p> + +<p> +Upon this, the captain himself went to see them; and returning, sought out a +certain alleged physician among the cabin-passengers; begging him to wait upon +the sufferers; hinting that, thereby, he might prevent the disease from +extending into the cabin itself. But this person denied being a physician; and +from fear of contagion—though he did not confess that to be the +motive—refused even to enter the steerage. The cases increased: the +utmost alarm spread through the ship: and scenes ensued, over which, for the +most part, a veil must be drawn; for such is the fastidiousness of some +readers, that, many times, they must lose the most striking incidents in a +narrative like mine. +</p> + +<p> +Many of the panic-stricken emigrants would fain now have domiciled on deck; but +being so scantily clothed, the wretched weather—wet, cold, and +tempestuous—drove the best part of them again below. Yet any other human +beings, perhaps, would rather have faced the most outrageous storm, than +continued to breathe the pestilent air of the steerage. But some of these poor +people must have been so used to the most abasing calamities, that the +atmosphere of a lazar-house almost seemed their natural air. +</p> + +<p> +The first four cases happened to be in adjoining bunks; and the emigrants who +slept in the farther part of the steerage, threw up a barricade in front of +those bunks; so as to cut off communication. But this was no sooner reported to +the captain, than he ordered it to be thrown down; since it could be of no +possible benefit; but would only make still worse, what was already direful +enough. +</p> + +<p> +It was not till after a good deal of mingled threatening and coaxing, that the +mate succeeded in getting the sailors below, to accomplish the captain’s +order. +</p> + +<p> +The sight that greeted us, upon entering, was wretched indeed. It was like +entering a crowded jail. From the rows of rude bunks, hundreds of meager, +begrimed faces were turned upon us; while seated upon the chests, were scores +of unshaven men, smoking tea-leaves, and creating a suffocating vapor. But this +vapor was better than the native air of the place, which from almost +unbelievable causes, was fetid in the extreme. In every corner, the females +were huddled together, weeping and lamenting; children were asking bread from +their mothers, who had none to give; and old men, seated upon the floor, were +leaning back against the heads of the water-casks, with closed eyes and +fetching their breath with a gasp. +</p> + +<p> +At one end of the place was seen the barricade, hiding the invalids; +while—notwithstanding the crowd—in front of it was a clear area, +which the fear of contagion had left open. +</p> + +<p> +“That bulkhead must come down,” cried the mate, in a voice that +rose above the din. “Take hold of it, boys.” +</p> + +<p> +But hardly had we touched the chests composing it, when a crowd of pale-faced, +infuriated men rushed up; and with terrific howls, swore they would slay us, if +we did not desist. +</p> + +<p> +“Haul it down!” roared the mate. +</p> + +<p> +But the sailors fell back, murmuring something about merchant seamen having no +pensions in case of being maimed, and they had not shipped to fight fifty to +one. Further efforts were made by the mate, who at last had recourse to +entreaty; but it would not do; and we were obliged to depart, without achieving +our object. +</p> + +<p> +About four o’clock that morning, the first four died. They were all men; +and the scenes which ensued were frantic in the extreme. Certainly, the +bottomless profound of the sea, over which we were sailing, concealed nothing +more frightful. +</p> + +<p> +Orders were at once passed to bury the dead. But this was unnecessary. By their +own countrymen, they were torn from the clasp of their wives, rolled in their +own bedding, with ballast-stones, and with hurried rites, were dropped into the +ocean. +</p> + +<p> +At this time, ten more men had caught the disease; and with a degree of +devotion worthy all praise, the mate attended them with his medicines; but the +captain did not again go down to them. +</p> + +<p> +It was all-important now that the steerage should be purified; and had it not +been for the rains and squalls, which would have made it madness to turn such a +number of women and children upon the wet and unsheltered decks, the steerage +passengers would have been ordered above, and their den have been given a +thorough cleansing. But, for the present, this was out of the question. The +sailors peremptorily refused to go among the defilements to remove them; and so +besotted were the greater part of the emigrants themselves, that though the +necessity of the case was forcibly painted to them, they would not lift a hand +to assist in what seemed their own salvation. +</p> + +<p> +The panic in the cabin was now very great; and for fear of contagion to +themselves, the cabin passengers would fain have made a prisoner of the +captain, to prevent him from going forward beyond the mainmast. Their clamors +at last induced him to tell the two mates, that for the present they must sleep +and take their meals elsewhere than in their old quarters, which communicated +with the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +On land, a pestilence is fearful enough; but there, many can flee from an +infected city; whereas, in a ship, you are locked and bolted in the very +hospital itself. Nor is there any possibility of escape from it; and in so +small and crowded a place, no precaution can effectually guard against +contagion. +</p> + +<p> +Horrible as the sights of the steerage now were, the cabin, perhaps, presented +a scene equally despairing. Many, who had seldom prayed before, now implored +the merciful heavens, night and day, for fair winds and fine weather. Trunks +were opened for Bibles; and at last, even prayer-meetings were held over the +very table across which the loud jest had been so often heard. +</p> + +<p> +Strange, though almost universal, that the seemingly nearer prospect of that +death which any body at any time may die, should produce these spasmodic +devotions, when an everlasting Asiatic Cholera is forever thinning our ranks; +and die by death we all must at last. +</p> + +<p> +On the second day, seven died, one of whom was the little tailor; on the third, +four; on the fourth, six, of whom one was the Greenland sailor, and another, a +woman in the cabin, whose death, however, was afterward supposed to have been +purely induced by her fears. These last deaths brought the panic to its height; +and sailors, officers, cabin-passengers, and emigrants—all looked upon +each other like lepers. All but the only true leper among us—the mariner +Jackson, who seemed elated with the thought, that for <i>him—</i>already +in the deadly clutches of another disease—no danger was to be apprehended +from a fever which only swept off the comparatively healthy. Thus, in the midst +of the despair of the healthful, this incurable invalid was not cast down; not, +at least, by the same considerations that appalled the rest. +</p> + +<p> +And still, beneath a gray, gloomy sky, the doomed craft beat on; now on this +tack, now on that; battling against hostile blasts, and drenched in rain and +spray; scarcely making an inch of progress toward her port. +</p> + +<p> +On the sixth morning, the weather merged into a gale, to which we stripped our +ship to a storm-stay-sail. In ten hours’ time, the waves ran in +mountains; and the Highlander rose and fell like some vast buoy on the water. +Shrieks and lamentations were driven to leeward, and drowned in the roar of the +wind among the cordage; while we gave to the gale the blackened bodies of five +more of the dead. +</p> + +<p> +But as the dying departed, the places of two of them were filled in the rolls +of humanity, by the birth of two infants, whom the plague, panic, and gale had +hurried into the world before their time. The first cry of one of these +infants, was almost simultaneous with the splash of its father’s body in +the sea. Thus we come and we go. But, surrounded by death, both mothers and +babes survived. +</p> + +<p> +At midnight, the wind went down; leaving a long, rolling sea; and, for the +first time in a week, a clear, starry sky. +</p> + +<p> +In the first morning-watch, I sat with Harry on the windlass, watching the +billows; which, seen in the night, seemed real hills, upon which fortresses +might have been built; and real valleys, in which villages, and groves, and +gardens, might have nestled. It was like a landscape in Switzerland; for down +into those dark, purple glens, often tumbled the white foam of the wave-crests, +like avalanches; while the seething and boiling that ensued, seemed the +swallowing up of human beings. +</p> + +<p> +By the afternoon of the next day this heavy sea subsided; and we bore down on +the waves, with all our canvas set; stun’-sails alow and aloft; and our +best steersman at the helm; the captain himself at his elbow;—bowling +along, with a fair, cheering breeze over the taffrail. +</p> + +<p> +The decks were cleared, and swabbed bone-dry; and then, all the emigrants who +were not invalids, poured themselves out on deck, snuffing the delightful air, +spreading their damp bedding in the sun, and regaling themselves with the +generous charity of the captain, who of late had seen fit to increase their +allowance of food. A detachment of them now joined a band of the crew, who +proceeding into the steerage, with buckets and brooms, gave it a thorough +cleansing, sending on deck, I know not how many bucketsful of defilements. It +was more like cleaning out a stable, than a retreat for men and women. This day +we buried three; the next day one, and then the pestilence left us, with seven +convalescent; who, placed near the opening of the hatchway, soon rallied under +the skillful treatment, and even tender care of the mate. +</p> + +<p> +But even under this favorable turn of affairs, much apprehension was still +entertained, lest in crossing the Grand Banks of Newfoundland, the fogs, so +generally encountered there, might bring on a return of the fever. But, to the +joy of all hands, our fair wind still held on; and we made a rapid run across +these dreaded shoals, and southward steered for New York. +</p> + +<p> +Our days were now fair and mild, and though the wind abated, yet we still ran +our course over a pleasant sea. The steerage-passengers—at least by far +the greater number—wore a still, subdued aspect, though a little cheered +by the genial air, and the hopeful thought of soon reaching their port. But +those who had lost fathers, husbands, wives, or children, needed no crape, to +reveal to others, who they were. Hard and bitter indeed was their lot; for with +the poor and desolate, grief is no indulgence of mere sentiment, however +sincere, but a gnawing reality, that eats into their vital beings; they have no +kind condolers, and bland physicians, and troops of sympathizing friends; and +they must toil, though to-morrow be the burial, and their pallbearers throw +down the hammer to lift up the coffin. +</p> + +<p> +How, then, with these emigrants, who, three thousand miles from home, suddenly +found themselves deprived of brothers and husbands, with but a few pounds, or +perhaps but a few shillings, to buy food in a strange land? +</p> + +<p> +As for the passengers in the cabin, who now so jocund as they? drawing nigh, +with their long purses and goodly portmanteaus to the promised land, without +fear of fate. One and all were generous and gay, the jelly-eyed old gentleman, +before spoken of, gave a shilling to the steward. +</p> + +<p> +The lady who had died, was an elderly person, an American, returning from a +visit to an only brother in London. She had no friend or relative on board, +hence, as there is little mourning for a stranger dying among strangers, her +memory had been buried with her body. +</p> + +<p> +But the thing most worthy of note among these now light-hearted people in +feathers, was the gay way in which some of them bantered others, upon the panic +into which nearly all had been thrown. +</p> + +<p> +And since, if the extremest fear of a crowd in a panic of peril, proves +grounded on causes sufficient, they must then indeed come to +perish;—therefore it is, that at such times they must make up their minds +either to die, or else survive to be taunted by their fellow-men with their +fear. For except in extraordinary instances of exposure, there are few living +men, who, at bottom, are not very slow to admit that any other living men have +ever been very much nearer death than themselves. Accordingly, <i>craven</i> is +the phrase too often applied to any one who, with however good reason, has been +appalled at the prospect of sudden death, and yet lived to escape it. Though, +should he have perished in conformity with his fears, not a syllable of +<i>craven</i> would you hear. This is the language of one, who more than once +has beheld the scenes, whence these principles have been deduced. The subject +invites much subtle speculation; for in every being’s ideas of death, and +his behavior when it suddenly menaces him, lies the best index to his life and +his faith. Though the Christian era had not then begun, Socrates died the death +of the Christian; and though Hume was not a Christian in theory, yet he, too, +died the death of the Christian,—humble, composed, without bravado; and +though the most skeptical of philosophical skeptics, yet full of that firm, +creedless faith, that embraces the spheres. Seneca died dictating to posterity; +Petronius lightly discoursing of essences and love-songs; and Addison, calling +upon Christendom to behold how calmly a Christian could die; but not even the +last of these three, perhaps, died the best death of the Christian. +</p> + +<p> +The cabin passenger who had used to read prayers while the rest kneeled against +the transoms and settees, was one of the merry young sparks, who had occasioned +such agonies of jealousy to the poor tailor, now no more. In his rakish vest, +and dangling watch-chain, this same youth, with all the awfulness of fear, had +led the earnest petitions of his companions; supplicating mercy, where before +he had never solicited the slightest favor. More than once had he been seen +thus engaged by the observant steersman at the helm: who looked through the +little glass in the cabin bulk-head. +</p> + +<p> +But this youth was an April man; the storm had departed; and now he shone in +the sun, none braver than he. +</p> + +<p> +One of his jovial companions ironically advised him to enter into holy orders +upon his arrival in New York. +</p> + +<p> +“Why so?” said the other, “have I such an orotund +voice?” +</p> + +<p> +“No;” profanely returned his friend—“but you are a +coward—just the man to be a parson, and pray.” +</p> + +<p> +However this narrative of the circumstances attending the fever among the +emigrants on the Highland may appear; and though these things happened so long +ago; yet just such events, nevertheless, are perhaps taking place to-day. But +the only account you obtain of such events, is generally contained in a +newspaper paragraph, under the shipping-head. <i>There</i> is the obituary of +the destitute dead, who die on the sea. They die, like the billows that break +on the shore, and no more are heard or seen. But in the events, thus merely +initialized in the catalogue of passing occurrences, and but glanced at by the +readers of news, who are more taken up with paragraphs of fuller flavor; what a +world of life and death, what a world of humanity and its woes, lies shrunk +into a three-worded sentence! +</p> + +<p> +You see no plague-ship driving through a stormy sea; you hear no groans of +despair; you see no corpses thrown over the bulwarks; you mark not the wringing +hands and torn hair of widows and orphans:—all is a blank. And one of +these blanks I have but filled up, in recounting the details of the +Highlander’s calamity. +</p> + +<p> +Besides that natural tendency, which hurries into oblivion the last woes of the +poor; other causes combine to suppress the detailed circumstances of disasters +like these. Such things, if widely known, operate unfavorably to the ship, and +make her a bad name; and to avoid detention at quarantine, a captain will state +the case in the most palliating light, and strive to hush it up, as much as he +can. +</p> + +<p> +In no better place than this, perhaps, can a few words be said, concerning +emigrant ships in general. +</p> + +<p> +Let us waive that agitated national topic, as to whether such multitudes of +foreign poor should be landed on our American shores; let us waive it, with the +one only thought, that if they can get here, they have God’s right to +come; though they bring all Ireland and her miseries with them. For the whole +world is the patrimony of the whole world; there is no telling who does not own +a stone in the Great Wall of China. But we waive all this; and will only +consider, how best the emigrants can come hither, since come they do, and come +they must and will. +</p> + +<p> +Of late, a law has been passed in Congress, restricting ships to a certain +number of emigrants, according to a certain rate. If this law were enforced, +much good might be done; and so also might much good be done, were the English +law likewise enforced, concerning the fixed supply of food for every emigrant +embarking from Liverpool. But it is hardly to be believed, that either of these +laws is observed. +</p> + +<p> +But in all respects, no legislation, even nominally, reaches the hard lot of +the emigrant. What ordinance makes it obligatory upon the captain of a ship, to +supply the steerage-passengers with decent lodgings, and give them light and +air in that foul den, where they are immured, during a long voyage across the +Atlantic? What ordinance necessitates him to place the <i>galley,</i> or +steerage-passengers’ stove, in a dry place of shelter, where the +emigrants can do their cooking during a storm, or wet weather? What ordinance +obliges him to give them more room on deck, and let them have an occasional run +fore and aft?—There is no law concerning these things. And if there was, +who but some Howard in office would see it enforced? and how seldom is there a +Howard in office! +</p> + +<p> +We talk of the Turks, and abhor the cannibals; but may not some of <i>them,</i> +go to heaven, before some of <i>us?</i> We may have civilized bodies and yet +barbarous souls. We are blind to the real sights of this world; deaf to its +voice; and dead to its death. And not till we know, that one grief outweighs +ten thousand joys, will we become what Christianity is striving to make us. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap59"></a>CHAPTER LIX.<br/> +THE LAST END OF JACKSON</h2> + +<p> +“Off Cape Cod!” said the steward, coming forward from the +quarter-deck, where the captain had just been taking his noon observation; +sweeping the vast horizon with his quadrant, like a dandy circumnavigating the +dress-circle of an amphitheater with his glass. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Off Cape Cod!</i> and in the shore-bloom that came to us— even from +that desert of sand-hillocks—methought I could almost distinguish the +fragrance of the rose-bush my sisters and I had planted, in our far inland +garden at home. Delicious odors are those of our mother Earth; which like a +flower-pot set with a thousand shrubs, greets the eager voyager from afar. +</p> + +<p> +The breeze was stiff, and so drove us along that we turned over two broad, blue +furrows from our bows, as we plowed the watery prairie. By night it was a +reef-topsail-breeze; but so impatient was the captain to make his port before a +shift of wind overtook us, that even yet we carried a main-topgallant-sail, +though the light mast sprung like a switch. +</p> + +<p> +In the second dog-watch, however, the breeze became such, that at last the +order was given to douse the top-gallant-sail, and clap a reef into all three +top-sails. +</p> + +<p> +While the men were settling away the halyards on deck, and before they had +begun to haul out the reef-tackles, to the surprise of several, Jackson came up +from the forecastle, and, for the first time in four weeks or more, took hold +of a rope. +</p> + +<p> +Like most seamen, who during the greater part of a voyage, have been off duty +from sickness, he was, perhaps, desirous, just previous to entering port, of +reminding the captain of his existence, and also that he expected his wages; +but, alas! his wages proved the wages of sin. +</p> + +<p> +At no time could he better signalize his disposition to work, than upon an +occasion like the present; which generally attracts every soul on deck, from +the captain to the child in the steerage. +</p> + +<p> +His aspect was damp and death-like; the blue hollows of his eyes were like +vaults full of snakes; and issuing so unexpectedly from his dark tomb in the +forecastle, he looked like a man raised from the dead. +</p> + +<p> +Before the sailors had made fast the reef-tackle, Jackson was tottering up the +rigging; thus getting the start of them, and securing his place at the extreme +weather-end of the topsail-yard—which in reefing is accounted the post of +honor. For it was one of the characteristics of this man, that though when on +duty he would shy away from mere dull work in a calm, yet in tempest-time he +always claimed the van, and would yield it to none; and this, perhaps, was one +cause of his unbounded dominion over the men. +</p> + +<p> +Soon, we were all strung along the main-topsail-yard; the ship rearing and +plunging under us, like a runaway steed; each man gripping his reef-point, and +sideways leaning, dragging the sail over toward Jackson, whose business it was +to confine the reef corner to the yard. +</p> + +<p> +His hat and shoes were off; and he rode the yard-arm end, leaning backward to +the gale, and pulling at the earing-rope, like a bridle. At all times, this is +a moment of frantic exertion with sailors, whose spirits seem then to partake +of the commotion of the elements, as they hang in the gale, between heaven and +earth; and <i>then</i> it is, too, that they are the most profane. +</p> + +<p> +“Haul out to windward!” coughed Jackson, with a blasphemous cry, +and he threw himself back with a violent strain upon the bridle in his hand. +But the wild words were hardly out of his mouth, when his hands dropped to his +side, and the bellying sail was spattered with a torrent of blood from his +lungs. +</p> + +<p> +As the man next him stretched out his arm to save, Jackson fell headlong from +the yard, and with a long seethe, plunged like a diver into the sea. +</p> + +<p> +It was when the ship had rolled to windward, which, with the long projection of +the yard-arm over the side, made him strike far out upon the water. His fall +was seen by the whole upward-gazing crowd on deck, some of whom were spotted +with the blood that trickled from the sail, while they raised a spontaneous +cry, so shrill and wild, that a blind man might have known something deadly had +happened. +</p> + +<p> +Clutching our reef-points, we hung over the stick, and gazed down to the one +white, bubbling spot, which had closed over the head of our shipmate; but the +next minute it was brewed into the common yeast of the waves, and Jackson never +arose. We waited a few minutes, expecting an order to descend, haul back the +fore-yard, and man the boat; but instead of that, the next sound that greeted +us was, “Bear a hand, and reef away, men!” from the mate. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, upon reflection, it would have been idle to attempt to save Jackson; +for besides that he must have been dead, ere he struck the sea—and if he +had not been dead then, the first immersion must have driven his soul from his +lacerated lungs—our jolly-boat would have taken full fifteen minutes to +launch into the waves. +</p> + +<p> +And here it should be said, that the thoughtless security in which too many +sea-captains indulge, would, in case of some sudden disaster befalling the +Highlander, have let us all drop into our graves. +</p> + +<p> +Like most merchant ships, we had but two boats: the longboat and the +jolly-boat. The long boat, by far the largest and stoutest of the two, was +permanently bolted down to the deck, by iron bars attached to its sides. It was +almost as much of a fixture as the vessel’s keel. It was filled with +pigs, fowls, firewood, and coals. Over this the jolly-boat was capsized without +a <i>thole-pin</i> in the gunwales; its bottom bleaching and cracking in the +sun. +</p> + +<p> +Judge, then, what promise of salvation for us, had we shipwrecked; yet in this +state, one merchant ship out of three, keeps its boats. To be sure, no vessel +full of emigrants, by any possible precautions, could in case of a fatal +disaster at sea, hope to save the tenth part of the souls on board; yet +provision should certainly be made for a handful of survivors, to carry home +the tidings of her loss; for even in the worst of the calamities that befell +patient Job, some <i>one</i> at least of his servants escaped to report it. +</p> + +<p> +In a way that I never could fully account for, the sailors, in my hearing at +least, and Harry’s, never made the slightest allusion to the departed +Jackson. One and all they seemed tacitly to unite in hushing up his memory +among them. Whether it was, that the severity of the bondage under which this +man held every one of them, did really corrode in their secret hearts, that +they thought to repress the recollection of a thing so degrading, I can not +determine; but certain it was, that <i>his</i> death was <i>their</i> +deliverance; which they celebrated by an elevation of spirits, unknown before. +Doubtless, this was to be in part imputed, however, to their now drawing near +to their port. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap60"></a>CHAPTER LX.<br/> +HOME AT LAST</h2> + +<p> +Next day was Sunday; and the mid-day sun shone upon a glassy sea. +</p> + +<p> +After the uproar of the breeze and the gale, this profound, pervading calm +seemed suited to the tranquil spirit of a day, which, in godly towns, makes +quiet vistas of the most tumultuous thoroughfares. +</p> + +<p> +The ship lay gently rolling in the soft, subdued ocean swell; while all around +were faint white spots; and nearer to, broad, milky patches, betokening the +vicinity of scores of ships, all bound to one common port, and tranced in one +common calm. Here the long, devious wakes from Europe, Africa, India, and Peru +converged to a line, which braided them all in one. +</p> + +<p> +Full before us quivered and danced, in the noon-day heat and mid-air, the green +heights of New Jersey; and by an optical delusion, the blue sea seemed to flow +under them. +</p> + +<p> +The sailors whistled and whistled for a wind; the impatient cabin-passengers +were arrayed in their best; and the emigrants clustered around the bows, with +eyes intent upon the long-sought land. +</p> + +<p> +But leaning over, in a reverie, against the side, my Carlo gazed down into the +calm, violet sea, as if it were an eye that answered his own; and turning to +Harry, said, “This America’s skies must be down in the sea; for, +looking down in this water, I behold what, in Italy, we also behold overhead. +Ah! after all, I find my Italy somewhere, wherever I go. I even found it in +rainy Liverpool.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently, up came a dainty breeze, wafting to us a white wing from the +shore—the pilot-boat! Soon a monkey-jacket mounted the side, and was +beset by the captain and cabin people for news. And out of bottomless pockets +came bundles of newspapers, which were eagerly caught by the throng. +</p> + +<p> +The captain now abdicated in the pilot’s favor, who proved to be a tiger +of a fellow, keeping us hard at work, pulling and hauling the braces, and +trimming the ship, to catch the least <i>cat’s-paw</i> of wind. +</p> + +<p> +When, among sea-worn people, a strange man from shore suddenly stands among +them, with the smell of the land in his beard, it conveys a realization of the +vicinity of the green grass, that not even the distant sight of the shore +itself can transcend. +</p> + +<p> +The steerage was now as a bedlam; trunks and chests were locked and tied round +with ropes; and a general washing and rinsing of faces and hands was beheld. +While this was going on, forth came an order from the quarter-deck, for every +bed, blanket, bolster, and bundle of straw in the steerage to be committed to +the deep.—A command that was received by the emigrants with dismay, and +then with wrath. But they were assured, that this was indispensable to the +getting rid of an otherwise long detention of some weeks at the quarantine. +They therefore reluctantly complied; and overboard went pallet and pillow. +Following them, went old pots and pans, bottles and baskets. So, all around, +the sea was strewn with stuffed bed-ticks, that limberly floated on the +waves—couches for all mermaids who were not fastidious. Numberless things +of this sort, tossed overboard from emigrant ships nearing the harbor of New +York, drift in through the Narrows, and are deposited on the shores of Staten +Island; along whose eastern beach I have often walked, and speculated upon the +broken jugs, torn pillows, and dilapidated baskets at my feet. +</p> + +<p> +A second order was now passed for the emigrants to muster their forces, and +give the steerage a final, thorough cleaning with sand and water. And to this +they were incited by the same warning which had induced them to make an +offering to Neptune of their bedding. The place was then fumigated, and dried +with pans of coals from the galley; so that by evening, no stranger would have +imagined, from her appearance, that the Highlander had made otherwise than a +tidy and prosperous voyage. Thus, some sea-captains take good heed that +benevolent citizens shall not get a glimpse of the true condition of the +steerage while at sea. +</p> + +<p> +That night it again fell calm; but next morning, though the wind was somewhat +against us, we set sail for the Narrows; and making short tacks, at last ran +through, almost bringing our jib-boom over one of the forts. +</p> + +<p> +An early shower had refreshed the woods and fields, that glowed with a glorious +green; and to our salted lungs, the land breeze was spiced with aromas. The +steerage passengers almost neighed with delight, like horses brought back to +spring pastures; and every eye and ear in the Highlander was full of the glad +sights and sounds of the shore. +</p> + +<p> +No more did we think of the gale and the plague; nor turn our eyes upward to +the stains of blood, still visible on the topsail, whence Jackson had fallen; +but we fixed our gaze on the orchards and meads, and like thirsty men, drank in +all their dew. +</p> + +<p> +On the Staten Island side, a white staff displayed a pale yellow flag, denoting +the habitation of the quarantine officer; for as if to symbolize the yellow +fever itself, and strike a panic and premonition of the black vomit into every +beholder, all quarantines all over the world, taint the air with the streamings +of their fever-flag. +</p> + +<p> +But though the long rows of white-washed hospitals on the hill side were now in +plain sight, and though scores of ships were here lying at anchor, yet no boat +came off to us; and to our surprise and delight, on we sailed, past a spot +which every one had dreaded. How it was that they thus let us pass without +boarding us, we never could learn. +</p> + +<p> +Now rose the city from out the bay, and one by one, her spires pierced the +blue; while thick and more thick, ships, brigs, schooners, and sail boats, +thronged around. We saw the Hartz Forest of masts and black rigging stretching +along the East River; and northward, up the stately old Hudson, covered with +white sloop-sails like fleets of swans, we caught a far glimpse of the purple +Palisades. +</p> + +<p> +Oh! he who has never been afar, let him once go from home, to know what home +is. For as you draw nigh again to your old native river, he seems to pour +through you with all his tides, and in your enthusiasm, you swear to build +altars like mile-stones, along both his sacred banks. +</p> + +<p> +Like the Czar of all the Russias, and Siberia to boot, Captain Riga, telescope +in hand, stood on the poop, pointing out to the passengers, Governor’s +Island, Castle Garden, and the Battery. +</p> + +<p> +“And <i>that”</i> said he, pointing out a vast black hull which, +like a shark, showed tiers of teeth, <i>“that,</i> ladies, is a +line-of-battle-ship, the North Carolina.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear!”—and “Oh my!”—ejaculated the +ladies, and— “Lord, save us,” responded an old gentleman, who +was a member of the Peace Society. +</p> + +<p> +Hurra! hurra! and ten thousand times hurra! down goes our old anchor, fathoms +down into the free and independent Yankee mud, one handful of which was now +worth a broad manor in England. +</p> + +<p> +The Whitehall boats were around us, and soon, our cabin passengers were all +off, gay as crickets, and bound for a late dinner at the Astor House; where, no +doubt, they fired off a salute of champagne corks in honor of their own +arrival. Only a very few of the steerage passengers, however, could afford to +pay the high price the watermen demanded for carrying them ashore; so most of +them remained with us till morning. But nothing could restrain our Italian boy, +Carlo, who, promising the watermen to pay them with his music, was triumphantly +rowed ashore, seated in the stern of the boat, his organ before him, and +something like “Hail Columbia!” his tune. We gave him three +rapturous cheers, and we never saw Carlo again. +</p> + +<p> +Harry and I passed the greater part of the night walking the deck, and gazing +at the thousand lights of the city. +</p> + +<p> +At sunrise, we <i>warped</i> into a berth at the foot of Wall-street, and +knotted our old ship, stem and stern, to the pier. But that knotting of +<i>her,</i> was the unknotting of the bonds of the sailors, among whom, it is a +maxim, that the ship once fast to the wharf, they are free. So with a rush and +a shout, they bounded ashore, followed by the tumultuous crowd of emigrants, +whose friends, day-laborers and housemaids, stood ready to embrace them. +</p> + +<p> +But in silent gratitude at the end of a voyage, almost equally uncongenial to +both of us, and so bitter to one, Harry and I sat on a chest in the forecastle. +And now, the ship that we had loathed, grew lovely in our eyes, which lingered +over every familiar old timber; for the scene of suffering is a scene of joy +when the suffering is past; and the silent reminiscence of hardships departed, +is sweeter than the presence of delight. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap61"></a>CHAPTER LXI.<br/> +REDBURN AND HARRY, ARM IN ARM, IN HARBOR</h2> + +<p> +There we sat in that tarry old den, the only inhabitants of the deserted old +ship, but the mate and the rats. +</p> + +<p> +At last, Harry went to his chest, and drawing out a few shillings, proposed +that we should go ashore, and return with a supper, to eat in the forecastle. +Little else that was eatable being for sale in the paltry shops along the +wharves, we bought several pies, some doughnuts, and a bottle of ginger-pop, +and thus supplied we made merry. For to us, whose very mouths were become +pickled and puckered, with the continual flavor of briny beef, those pies and +doughnuts were most delicious. And as for the ginger-pop, why, that ginger-pop +was divine! I have reverenced ginger-pop ever since. +</p> + +<p> +We kept late hours that night; for, delightful certainty! placed beyond all +doubt—like royal landsmen, we were masters of the watches of the night, +and no <i>starb-o-leens ahoy!</i> would annoy us again. +</p> + +<p> +“All night in! think of <i>that,</i> Harry, my friend!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, Wellingborough, it’s enough to keep me awake forever, to think +I may now sleep as long as I please.” +</p> + +<p> +We turned out bright and early, and then prepared for the shore, first +stripping to the waist, for a toilet. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall never get these confounded tar-stains out of my fingers,” +cried Harry, rubbing them hard with a bit of oakum, steeped in strong suds. +“No! they will <i>not</i> come out, and I’m ruined for life. Look +at my hand once, Wellingborough!” +</p> + +<p> +It was indeed a sad sight. Every finger nail, like mine, was dyed of a rich, +russet hue; looking something like bits of fine tortoise shell. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Harry,” said I—“You know the ladies of the +east steep the tips of their fingers in some golden dye.” +</p> + +<p> +“And by Plutus,” cried Harry—“I’d steep mine up +to the armpits in gold; since you talk about <i>that.</i> But never mind, +I’ll swear I’m just from Persia, my boy.” +</p> + +<p> +We now arrayed ourselves in our best, and sallied ashore; and, at once, I +piloted Harry to the sign of a Turkey Cock in Fulton-street, kept by one +Sweeny, a place famous for cheap Souchong, and capital buckwheat cakes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gentlemen, what will you have?”—said a waiter, as we +seated ourselves at a table. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Gentlemen!</i>” whispered Harry to +me—“<i>gentlemen!</i>—hear him!—I say now, Redburn, +they didn’t talk to us that way on board the old Highlander. By heaven, I +begin to feel my straps again:—Coffee and hot rolls,” he added +aloud, crossing his legs like a lord, “and fellow—come +back—bring us a venison-steak.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t got it, gentlemen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ham and eggs,” suggested I, whose mouth was watering at the +recollection of that particular dish, which I had tasted at the sign of the +Turkey Cock before. So ham and eggs it was; and royal coffee, and imperial +toast. +</p> + +<p> +But the butter! +</p> + +<p> +“Harry, did you ever taste such butter as this before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t say a word,”—said Harry, spreading his tenth +slice of toast “I’m going to turn dairyman, and keep within the +blessed savor of butter, so long as I live.” +</p> + +<p> +We made a breakfast, never to be forgotten; paid our bill with a flourish, and +sallied into the street, like two goodly galleons of gold, bound from Acapulco +to Old Spain. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Harry, “lead on; and let’s see something of +these United States of yours. I’m ready to pace from Maine to Florida; +ford the Great Lakes; and jump the River Ohio, if it comes in the way. Here, +take my arm;—lead on.” +</p> + +<p> +Such was the miraculous change, that had now come over him. It reminded me of +his manner, when we had started for London, from the sign of the Golden Anchor, +in Liverpool. +</p> + +<p> +He was, indeed, in most wonderful spirits; at which I could not help marveling; +considering the cavity in his pockets; and that he was a stranger in the land. +</p> + +<p> +By noon he had selected his boarding-house, a private establishment, where they +did not charge much for their board, and where the landlady’s +butcher’s bill was not very large. +</p> + +<p> +Here, at last, I left him to get his chest from the ship; while I turned up +town to see my old friend Mr. Jones, and learn what had happened during my +absence. +</p> + +<p> +With one hand, Mr. Jones shook mine most cordially; and with the other, gave me +some letters, which I eagerly devoured. Their purport compelled my departure +homeward; and I at once sought out Harry to inform him. +</p> + +<p> +Strange, but even the few hours’ absence which had intervened; during +which, Harry had been left to himself, to stare at strange streets, and strange +faces, had wrought a marked change in his countenance. He was a creature of the +suddenest impulses. Left to himself, the strange streets seemed now to have +reminded him of his friendless condition; and I found him with a very sad eye; +and his right hand groping in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Where am I going to dine, this day week?”—he slowly said. +“What’s to be done, Wellingborough?” +</p> + +<p> +And when I told him that the next afternoon I must leave him; he looked +downhearted enough. But I cheered him as well as I could; though needing a +little cheering myself; even though I <i>had</i> got home again. But no more +about that. +</p> + +<p> +Now, there was a young man of my acquaintance in the city, much my senior, by +the name of Goodwell; and a good natured fellow he was; who had of late been +engaged as a clerk in a large forwarding house in South-street; and it occurred +to me, that he was just the man to befriend Harry, and procure him a place. So +I mentioned the thing to my comrade; and we called upon Goodwell. +</p> + +<p> +I saw that he was impressed by the handsome exterior of my friend; and in +private, making known the case, he faithfully promised to do his best for him; +though the times, he said, were quite dull. +</p> + +<p> +That evening, Goodwell, Harry, and I, perambulated the streets, three +abreast:—Goodwell spending his money freely at the oyster-saloons; Harry +full of allusions to the London Clubhouses: and myself contributing a small +quota to the general entertainment. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning, we proceeded to business. +</p> + +<p> +Now, I did not expect to draw much of a salary from the ship; so as to retire +for life on the profits of <i>my first voyage;</i> but nevertheless, I thought +that a dollar or two might be coming. For dollars are valuable things; and +should not be overlooked, when they are owing. Therefore, as the second morning +after our arrival, had been set apart for paying off the crew, Harry and I made +our appearance on ship-board, with the rest. We were told to enter the cabin; +and once again I found myself, after an interval of four months, and more, +surrounded by its mahogany and maple. +</p> + +<p> +Seated in a sumptuous arm-chair, behind a lustrous, inlaid desk, sat Captain +Riga, arrayed in his City Hotel suit, looking magisterial as the Lord High +Admiral of England. Hat in hand, the sailors stood deferentially in a +semicircle before him, while the captain held the ship-papers in his hand, and +one by one called their names; and in mellow bank notes—beautiful +sight!—paid them their wages. +</p> + +<p> +Most of them had less than ten, a few twenty, and two, thirty dollars coming to +them; while the old cook, whose piety proved profitable in restraining him from +the expensive excesses of most seafaring men, and who had taken no pay in +advance, had the goodly round sum of seventy dollars as his due. +</p> + +<p> +Seven ten dollar bills! each of which, as I calculated at the time, was worth +precisely one hundred dimes, which were equal to one thousand cents, which were +again subdivisible into fractions. So that he now stepped into a fortune of +seventy thousand American <i>“mitts.”</i> Only seventy dollars, +after all; but then, it has always seemed to me, that stating amounts in +sounding fractional sums, conveys a much fuller notion of their magnitude, than +by disguising their immensity in such aggregations of value, as doubloons, +sovereigns, and dollars. Who would not rather be worth 125,000 francs in Paris, +than only £5000 in London, though the intrinsic value of the two sums, in +round numbers, is pretty much the same. +</p> + +<p> +With a scrape of the foot, and such a bow as only a negro can make, the old +cook marched off with his fortune; and I have no doubt at once invested it in a +grand, underground oyster-cellar. +</p> + +<p> +The other sailors, after counting their cash very carefully, and seeing all was +right, and not a bank-note was dog-eared, in which case they would have +demanded another: for they are not to be taken in and cheated, your sailors, +and they know their rights, too; at least, when they are at liberty, after the +voyage is concluded:— the sailors also salaamed, and withdrew, leaving +Harry and me face to face with the Paymaster-general of the Forces. +</p> + +<p> +We stood awhile, looking as polite as possible, and expecting every moment to +hear our names called, but not a word did we hear; while the captain, throwing +aside his accounts, lighted a very fragrant cigar, took up the morning +paper—I think it was the Herald—threw his leg over one arm of the +chair, and plunged into the latest intelligence from all parts of the world. +</p> + +<p> +I looked at Harry, and he looked at me; and then we both looked at this +incomprehensible captain. +</p> + +<p> +At last Harry hemmed, and I scraped my foot to increase the disturbance. +</p> + +<p> +The Paymaster-general looked up. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, where do you come from? Who are <i>you,</i> pray? and what do you +want? Steward, show these young gentlemen out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want my money,” said Harry. +</p> + +<p> +“My wages are due,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +The captain laughed. Oh! he was exceedingly merry; and taking a long +inspiration of smoke, removed his cigar, and sat sideways looking at us, +letting the vapor slowly wriggle and spiralize out of his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my soul, young gentlemen, you astonish me. Are your names down in +the City Directory? have you any letters of introduction, young +gentlemen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Riga!” cried Harry, enraged at his +impudence—“I tell you what it is, Captain Riga; this won’t +do—where’s the rhino?” +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Riga,” added I, “do you not remember, that about +four months ago, my friend Mr. Jones and myself had an interview with you in +this very cabin; when it was agreed that I was to go out in your ship, and +receive three dollars per month for my services? Well, Captain Riga, I have +gone out with you, and returned; and now, sir, I’ll thank you for my +pay.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes, I remember,” said the captain. <i>“Mr. Jones!</i> +Ha! ha! I remember Mr. Jones: a very gentlemanly gentleman; and +stop—<i>you,</i> too, are the son of a wealthy French importer; +and—let me think—was not your great-uncle a barber?” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” thundered I. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, young gentleman, really I beg your pardon. Steward, chairs +for the young gentlemen—be seated, young gentlemen. And now, let me +see,” turning over his accounts— “Hum, hum!—yes, here +it is: Wellingborough Redburn, at three dollars a month. Say four months, +that’s twelve dollars; less three dollars advanced in +Liverpool—that makes it nine dollars; less three hammers and two scrapers +lost overboard— that brings it to four dollars and a quarter. I owe you +four dollars and a quarter, I believe, young gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +“So it seems, sir,” said I, with staring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And now let me see what you owe me, and then well be able to square the +yards, Monsieur Redburn.” +</p> + +<p> +Owe <i>him!</i> thought I—what do I owe him but a grudge, but I concealed +my resentment; and presently he said, “By running away from the ship in +Liverpool, you forfeited your wages, which amount to twelve dollars; and as +there has been advanced to you, in money, hammers, and scrapers, seven dollars +and seventy-five cents, you are therefore indebted to me in precisely that sum. +Now, young gentleman, I’ll thank you for the money;” and he +extended his open palm across the desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I pitch into him?” whispered Harry. +</p> + +<p> +I was thunderstruck at this most unforeseen announcement of the state of my +account with Captain Riga; and I began to understand why it was that he had +till now ignored my absence from the ship, when Harry and I were in London. But +a single minute’s consideration showed that I could not help myself; so, +telling him that he was at liberty to begin his suit, for I was a bankrupt, and +could not pay him, I turned to go. +</p> + +<p> +Now, here was this man actually turning a poor lad adrift without a copper, +after he had been slaving aboard his ship for more than four mortal months. But +Captain Riga was a bachelor of expensive habits, and had run up large wine +bills at the City Hotel. He could not afford to be munificent. Peace to his +dinners. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Bolton, I believe,” said the captain, now blandly bowing +toward Harry. “Mr. Bolton, <i>you</i> also shipped for three dollars per +month: and you had one month’s advance in Liverpool; and from dock to +dock we have been about a month and a half; so I owe you just one dollar and a +half, Mr. Bolton; and here it is;” handing him six two-shilling pieces. +</p> + +<p> +“And this,” said Harry, throwing himself into a tragical attitude, +<i>“this</i> is the reward of my long and faithful services!” +</p> + +<p> +Then, disdainfully flinging the silver on the desk, he exclaimed, “There, +Captain Riga, you may keep your tin! It has been in <i>your</i> purse, and it +would give me the itch to retain it. Good morning, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, young gentlemen; pray, call again,” said the +captain, coolly bagging the coins. His politeness, while in port, was +invincible. +</p> + +<p> +Quitting the cabin, I remonstrated with Harry upon his recklessness in +disdaining his wages, small though they were; I begged to remind him of his +situation; and hinted that every penny he could get might prove precious to +him. But he only cried <i>Pshaw!</i> and that was the last of it. +</p> + +<p> +Going forward, we found the sailors congregated on the forecastle-deck, engaged +in some earnest discussion; while several carts on the wharf, loaded with their +chests, were just in the act of driving off, destined for the boarding-houses +uptown. By the looks of our shipmates, I saw very plainly that they must have +some mischief under weigh; and so it turned out. +</p> + +<p> +Now, though Captain Riga had not been guilty of any particular outrage against +the sailors; yet, by a thousand small meannesses—such as indirectly +causing their allowance of bread and beef to be diminished, without betraying +any appearance of having any inclination that way, and without speaking to the +sailors on the subject—by this, and kindred actions, I say, he had +contracted the cordial dislike of the whole ship’s company; and long +since they had bestowed upon him a name unmentionably expressive of their +contempt. +</p> + +<p> +The voyage was now concluded; and it appeared that the subject being debated by +the assembly on the forecastle was, how best they might give a united and +valedictory expression of the sentiments they entertained toward their late +lord and master. Some emphatic symbol of those sentiments was desired; some +unmistakable token, which should forcibly impress Captain Riga with the justest +possible notion of their feelings. +</p> + +<p> +It was like a meeting of the members of some mercantile company, upon the eve +of a prosperous dissolution of the concern; when the subordinates, actuated by +the purest gratitude toward their president, or chief, proceed to vote him a +silver pitcher, in token of their respect. It was something like this, I +repeat—but with a material difference, as will be seen. +</p> + +<p> +At last, the precise manner in which the thing should be done being agreed +upon, Blunt, the “Irish cockney,” was deputed to summon the +captain. He knocked at the cabin-door, and politely requested the steward to +inform Captain Riga, that some gentlemen were on the pier-head, earnestly +seeking him; whereupon he joined his comrades. +</p> + +<p> +In a few moments the captain sallied from the cabin, and found the +<i>gentlemen</i> alluded to, strung along the top of the bulwarks, on the side +next to the wharf. Upon his appearance, the row suddenly wheeled about, +presenting their backs; and making a motion, which was a polite salute to every +thing before them, but an abominable insult to all who happened to be in their +rear, they gave three cheers, and at one bound, cleared the ship. +</p> + +<p> +True to his imperturbable politeness while in port, Captain Riga only lifted +his hat, smiled very blandly, and slowly returned into his cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Wishing to see the last movements of this remarkable crew, who were so clever +ashore and so craven afloat, Harry and I followed them along the wharf, till +they stopped at a sailor retreat, poetically denominated “The +Flashes.” And here they all came to anchor before the bar; and the +landlord, a lantern-jawed landlord, bestirred himself behind it, among his +villainous old bottles and decanters. He well knew, from their looks, that his +customers were “flush,” and would spend their money freely, as, +indeed, is the case with most seamen, recently paid off. +</p> + +<p> +It was a touching scene. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, maties,” said one of them, at last—“I spose we +shan’t see each other again:—come, let’s splice the +main-brace all round, and drink to <i>the last voyage!”</i> +</p> + +<p> +Upon this, the landlord danced down his glasses, on the bar, uncorked his +decanters, and deferentially pushed them over toward the sailors, as much as to +say—<i>“Honorable gentlemen, it is not for me to allowance your +liquor;—help yourselves, your honors.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +And so they did; each glass a bumper; and standing in a row, tossed them all +off; shook hands all round, three times three; and then disappeared in couples, +through the several doorways; for <i>“The Flashes”</i> was on a +corner. +</p> + +<p> +If to every one, life be made up of farewells and greetings, and a +<i>“Good-by, God bless you,”</i> is heard for every <i>“How +d’ye do, welcome, my boy”—</i>then, of all men, sailors shake +the most hands, and wave the most hats. They are here and then they are there; +ever shifting themselves, they shift among the shifting: and like rootless +sea-weed, are tossed to and fro. +</p> + +<p> +As, after shaking our hands, our shipmates departed, Harry and I stood on the +corner awhile, till we saw the last man disappear. +</p> + +<p> +“They are gone,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank heaven!” said Harry. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap62"></a>CHAPTER LXII.<br/> +THE LAST THAT WAS EVER HEARD OF HARRY BOLTON</h2> + +<p> +That same afternoon, I took my comrade down to the Battery; and we sat on one +of the benches, under the summer shade of the trees. +</p> + +<p> +It was a quiet, beautiful scene; full of promenading ladies and gentlemen; and +through the foliage, so fresh and bright, we looked out over the bay, varied +with glancing ships; and then, we looked down to our boots; and thought what a +fine world it would be, if we only had a little money to enjoy it. But +that’s the everlasting rub—oh, who can cure an empty pocket? +</p> + +<p> +“I have no doubt, Goodwell will take care of you, Harry,” said I, +“he’s a fine, good-hearted fellow; and will do his best for you, I +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt of it,” said Harry, looking hopeless. +</p> + +<p> +“And I need not tell you, Harry, how sorry I am to leave you so +soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am sorry enough myself,” said Harry, looking very sincere. +</p> + +<p> +“But I will be soon back again, I doubt not,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps so,” said Harry, shaking his head. “How far is it +off?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only a hundred and eighty miles,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“A hundred and eighty miles!” said Harry, drawing the words out +like an endless ribbon. “Why, I couldn’t walk that in a +month.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, my dear friend,” said I, “take my advice, and while I +am gone, keep up a stout heart; never despair, and all will be well.” +</p> + +<p> +But notwithstanding all I could say to encourage him, Harry felt so bad, that +nothing would do, but a rush to a neighboring bar, where we both gulped down a +glass of ginger-pop; after which we felt better. +</p> + +<p> +He accompanied me to the steamboat, that was to carry me homeward; he stuck +close to my side, till she was about to put off; then, standing on the wharf, +he shook me by the hand, till we almost counteracted the play of the paddles; +and at last, with a mutual jerk at the arm-pits, we parted. I never saw Harry +again. +</p> + +<p> +I pass over the reception I met with at home; how I plunged into embraces, long +and loving:—I pass over this; and will conclude <i>my first voyage</i> by +relating all I know of what overtook Harry Bolton. +</p> + +<p> +Circumstances beyond my control, detained me at home for several weeks; during +which, I wrote to my friend, without receiving an answer. +</p> + +<p> +I then wrote to young Goodwell, who returned me the following letter, now +spread before me. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +<i>“Dear Redburn—Your poor friend, Harry, I can not find any where. +After you left, he called upon me several times, and we walked out together; +and my interest in him increased every day. But you don’t know how dull +are the times here, and what multitudes of young men, well qualified, are +seeking employment in counting-houses. I did my best; but could not get Harry a +place. However, I cheered him. But he grew more and more melancholy, and at +last told me, that he had sold all his clothes but those on his back to pay his +board. I offered to loan him a few dollars, but he would not receive them. I +called upon him two or three times after this, but he was not in; at last, his +landlady told me that he had permanently left her house the very day before. +Upon my questioning her closely, as to where he had gone, she answered, that +she did not know, but from certain hints that had dropped from our poor friend, +she feared he had gone on a whaling voyage. I at once went to the offices in +South-street, where men are shipped for the Nantucket whalers, and made +inquiries among them; but without success. And this,</i> I <i>am heartily +grieved to say, is all I know of our friend. I can not believe that his +melancholy could bring him to the insanity of throwing himself away in a +whaler; and I still think, that he must be somewhere in the city. You must come +down yourself, and help me seek him out.”</i> +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +This letter gave me a dreadful shock. Remembering our adventure in London, and +his conduct there; remembering how liable he was to yield to the most sudden, +crazy, and contrary impulses; and that, as a friendless, penniless foreigner in +New York, he must have had the most terrible incitements to committing violence +upon himself; I shuddered to think, that even now, while I thought of him, he +might no more be living. So strong was this impression at the time, that I +quickly glanced over the papers to see if there were any accounts of suicides, +or drowned persons floating in the harbor of New York. +</p> + +<p> +I now made all the haste I could to the seaport, but though I sought him all +over, no tidings whatever could be heard. +</p> + +<p> +To relieve my anxiety, Goodwell endeavored to assure me, that Harry must indeed +have departed on a whaling voyage. But remembering his bitter experience on +board of the Highlander, and more than all, his nervousness about going aloft, +it seemed next to impossible. +</p> + +<p> +At last I was forced to give him up. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Years after this, I found myself a sailor in the Pacific, on board of a whaler. +One day at sea, we spoke another whaler, and the boat’s crew that boarded +our vessel, came forward among us to have a little sea-chat, as is always +customary upon such occasions. +</p> + +<p> +Among the strangers was an Englishman, who had shipped in his vessel at Callao, +for the cruise. In the course of conversation, he made allusion to the fact, +that he had now been in the Pacific several years, and that the good craft +Huntress of Nantucket had had the honor of originally bringing him round upon +that side of the globe. I asked him why he had abandoned her; he answered that +she was the most unlucky of ships. +</p> + +<p> +“We had hardly been out three months,” said he, “when on the +Brazil banks we lost a boat’s crew, chasing a whale after sundown; and +next day lost a poor little fellow, a countryman of mine, who had never entered +the boats; he fell over the side, and was jammed between the ship, and a whale, +while we were cutting the fish in. Poor fellow, he had a hard time of it, from +the beginning; he was a gentleman’s son, and when you could coax him to +it, he sang like a bird.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was his name?” said I, trembling with expectation; +“what kind of eyes did he have? what was the color of his hair?” +</p> + +<p> +“Harry Bolton was not your brother?” cried the stranger, starting. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Harry Bolton!</i> it was even he! +</p> + +<p> +But yet, I, Wellingborough Redburn, chance to survive, after having passed +through far more perilous scenes than any narrated in this, <i>My First +Voyage</i>—which here I end. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REDBURN: HIS FIRST VOYAGE ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 8118-h.htm or 8118-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/1/8118/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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