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Afloat and Ashore: A Sea Tale

by James Fenimore Cooper · English · Gutenberg #8647 · 1,123,139 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Afloat and Ashore: A Sea Tale

Author: James Fenimore Cooper


        
Release date: August 1, 2005 [eBook #8647]
                Most recently updated: March 11, 2018

Language: English

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AFLOAT AND ASHORE

A SEA TALE



By James Fenimore Cooper



“Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.” _Two Gentlemen of Verona_



PREFACE.

The writer has published so much truth which the world has insisted was
fiction, and so much fiction which has been received as truth, that, in
the present instance, he is resolved to say nothing on the subject. Each
of his readers is at liberty to believe just as much, or as little,
of the matter here laid before him, or her, as may suit his, or her
notions, prejudices, knowledge of the world, or ignorance. If anybody
is disposed to swear he knows precisely where Clawbonny is, that he
was well acquainted with old Mr. Hardinge, nay, has often heard him
preach--let him make his affidavit, in welcome. Should he get a little
wide of the mark, it will not be the first document of that nature,
which has possessed the same weakness.

It is possible that certain captious persons may be disposed to inquire
into the _cui bono?_ of such a book. The answer is this. Everything
which can convey to the human mind distinct and accurate impressions
of events, social facts, professional peculiarities, or past history,
whether of the higher or more familiar character, is of use. All that
is necessary is, that the pictures should be true to nature, if not
absolutely drawn from living sitters. The knowledge we gain by our
looser reading, often becomes serviceable in modes and manners little
anticipated in the moments when it is acquired.

Perhaps the greater portion of all our peculiar opinions have their
foundation in prejudices. These prejudices are produced in consequence
of its being out of the power of any one man to see, or know, every
thing. The most favoured mortal must receive far more than half of all
that he learns on his faith in others; and it may aid those who can
never be placed in positions to judge for themselves of certain phases
of men and things, to get pictures of the same, drawn in a way to give
them nearer views than they might otherwise obtain. This is the greatest
benefit of all light literature in general, it being possible to render
that which is purely fictitious even more useful than that which is
strictly true, by avoiding extravagancies, by pourtraying with fidelity,
and, as our friend Marble might say, by “generalizing” with discretion.

This country has undergone many important changes since the commencement
of the present century. Some of these changes have been for the better;
others, we think out of all question, for the worse. The last is a fact
that can be known to the generation which is coming into life, by report
only, and these pages may possibly throw some little light on both
points, in representing things as they were. The population of the
republic is probably something more than eighteen millions and a half
to-day; in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred, it was but a
little more than five millions. In 1800, the population of New-York was
somewhat less than six hundred thousand souls; to-day it is probably a
little less than two millions seven hundred thousand souls. In 1800,
the town of New-York had sixty thousand inhabitants, whereas, including
Brooklyn and Williamsburg, which then virtually had no existence,
it must have at this moment quite four hundred thousand. These are
prodigious numerical changes, that have produced changes of another
sort. Although an increase of numbers does not necessarily infer an
increase of high civilization, it reasonably leads to the expectation
of great melioration in the commoner comforts. Such has been the result,
and to those familiar with facts as they now exist, the difference will
probably be apparent in these pages.

Although the moral changes in American society have not kept even
pace with those that are purely physical, many that are essential have
nevertheless occurred. Of all the British possessions on this continent,
New-York, after its conquest from the Dutch, received most of the social
organization of the mother country. Under the Dutch, even, it had some
of these characteristic peculiarities, in its patroons; the lords of the
manor of the New Netherlands. Some of the southern colonies, it is true,
had their caciques and other semi-feudal, and semi-savage noblesse, but
the system was of short continuance; the peculiarities of that section
of the country, arising principally from the existence of domestic
slavery, on an extended scale. With New-York it was different. A
conquered colony, the mother country left the impression of its own
institutions more deeply engraved than on any of the settlements that
were commenced by grants to proprietors, or under charters from the
crown. It was strictly a royal colony, and so continued to be, down to
the hour of separation. The social consequences of this state of things
were to be traced in her habits unlit the current of immigration became
so strong, as to bring with it those that were conflicting, if not
absolutely antagonist. The influence of these two sources of thought is
still obvious to the reflecting, giving rise to a double set of social
opinions; one of which bears all the characteristics of its New England
and puritanical origin, while the other may be said to come of the
usages and notions of the Middle States, proper.

This is said in anticipation of certain strictures that will be likely
to follow some of the incidents of our story, it not being always
deemed an essential in an American critic, that he should understand
his subject. Too many of them, indeed, justify the retort of the man
who derided the claims to knowledge of life, set up by a neighbour,
that “had been to meetin' and had been to mill.” We can all obtain some
notions of the portion of a subject that is placed immediately before
our eyes; the difficulty is to understand that which we have no means of
studying.

On the subject of the nautical incidents of this book, we have
endeavoured to be as exact as our authorities will allow. We are fully
aware of the importance of writing what the world thinks, rather than
what is true, and are not conscious of any very palpable errors of this
nature.

It is no more than fair to apprize the reader, that our tale is not
completed in the First Part, or the volumes that are now published.
This, the plan of the book would not permit: but we can promise those
who may feel any interest in the subject, that the season shall not
pass away, so far as it may depend on ourselves, without bringing the
narrative to a close. Poor Captain Wallingford is now in his sixty-fifth
year, and is naturally desirous of not being hung up long on the
tenter-hooks of expectation, so near the close of life. The old
gentleman having seen much and suffered much, is entitled to end his
days in peace. In this mutual frame of mind between the principal, and
his editors, the public shall have no cause to complain of unnecessary
delay, whatever may be its rights of the same nature on other subjects.

The author--perhaps editor would be the better word--does not feel
himself responsible for all the notions advanced by the hero of this
tale, and it may be as well to say as much. That one born in the
Revolution should think differently from the men of the present day, in
a hundred things, is to be expected. It is in just this difference of
opinion, that the lessons of the book are to be found.




AFLOAT AND ASHORE.



CHAPTER I.

  “And I--my joy of life is fled,
  My spirit's power, my bosom's glow;
  The raven locks that grac'd my head,
  Wave in a wreath of snow!
  And where the star of youth arose,
  I deem'd life's lingering ray should close,
  And those lov'd trees my tomb o'ershade,
  Beneath whose arching bowers my childhood play'd.”
   MRS. HEMANS.


I was born in a valley not very remote from the sea. My father had been
a sailor in youth, and some of my earliest recollections are connected
with the history of his adventures, and the recollections they excited.
He had been a boy in the war of the revolution, and had seen some
service in the shipping of that period. Among other scenes he witnessed,
he had been on board the Trumbull, in her action with the Watt--the
hardest-fought naval combat of that war--and he particularly delighted
in relating its incidents. He had been wounded in the battle, and bore
the marks of the injury, in a scar that slightly disfigured a face,
that, without this blemish, would have been singularly handsome. My
mother, after my poor father's death, always spoke of even this scar
as a beauty spot. Agreeably to my own recollections, the mark scarcely
deserved that commendation, as it gave one side of the face a grim and
fierce appearance, particularly when its owner was displeased.

My father died on the farm on which he was born, and which descended to
him from his great-grandfather, an English emigrant that had purchased
it of the Dutch colonist who had originally cleared it from the woods.
The place was called Clawbonny, which some said was good Dutch others
bad Dutch; and, now and then, a person ventured a conjecture that it
might be Indian. Bonny it was, in one sense at least, for a lovelier
farm there is not on the whole of the wide surface of the Empire State.
What does not always happen in this wicked, world, it was as good as
it was handsome. It consisted of three hundred and seventy-two acres of
first-rate land, either arable, or of rich river bottom in meadows, and
of more than a hundred of rocky mountain side, that was very tolerably
covered with wood. The first of our family who owned the place had built
a substantial one-story stone house, that bears the date of 1707 on one
of its gables; and to which each of his successors had added a little,
until the whole structure got to resemble a cluster of cottages thrown
together without the least attention to order or regularity. There were
a porch, a front door, and a lawn, however; the latter containing half a
dozen acres of a soil as black as one's hat, and nourishing eight or
ten elms that were scattered about, as if their seeds had been sown
broad-cast. In addition to the trees, and a suitable garniture of
shrubbery, this lawn was coated with a sward that, in the proper
seasons, rivalled all I have read, or imagined, of the emerald and shorn
slopes of the Swiss valleys.

Clawbonny, while it had all the appearance of being the residence of an
affluent agriculturist, had none of the pretension of these later times.
The house had an air of substantial comfort without, an appearance that
its interior in no manner contradicted. The ceilings, were low, it is
true, nor were the rooms particularly large; but the latter were warm
in winter, cool in summer and tidy, neat and respectable all the year
round. Both the parlours had carpets, as had the passages and all the
better bed-rooms; and there were an old-fashioned chintz settee, well
stuffed and cushioned, and curtains in the “big parlour,” as we called
the best apartment,--the pretending name of drawing-room not having
reached our valley as far back as the year 1796, or that in which my
recollections of the place, as it then existed, are the most vivid and
distinct.

We had orchards, meadows, and ploughed fields all around us; while the
barns, granaries, styes, and other buildings of the farm, were of solid
stone, like the dwelling, and all in capital condition. In addition to
the place, which he inherited from my grandfather, quite without any
encumbrance, well stocked and supplied with utensils of all sorts, my
father had managed to bring with him from sea some fourteen or fifteen
thousand dollars, which he carefully invested in mortgages in the
county. He got twenty-seven hundred pounds currency with my mother,
similarly bestowed; and, two or three great landed proprietors, and
as many retired merchants from York, excepted, Captain Wallingford was
generally supposed to be one of the stiffest men in Ulster county. I do
not know exactly how true was this report; though I never saw anything
but the abundance of a better sort of American farm under the paternal
roof, and I know that the poor were never sent away empty-handed. It as
true that our wine was made of currants; but it was delicious, and there
was always a sufficient stock in the cellar to enable us to drink
it three or four years old. My father, however, had a small private
collection of his own, out of which he would occasionally produce
a bottle; and I remember to have heard Governor George Clinton,
afterwards, Vice President, who was an Ulster county man, and who
sometimes stopped at Clawbonny in passing, say that it was excellent
East India Madeira. As for clarets, burgundy, hock and champagne, they
were wines then unknown in America, except on the tables of some of
the principal merchants, and, here and there, on that of some travelled
gentleman of an estate larger than common. When I say that Governor
George Clinton used to stop occasionally, and taste my father's Madeira,
I do not wish to boast of being classed with those who then composed
the gentry of the state. To this, in that day, we could hardly aspire,
though the substantial hereditary property of my family gave us a local
consideration that placed us a good deal above the station of ordinary
yeomen. Had we lived in one of the large towns, our association would
unquestionably have been with those who are usually considered to be one
or two degrees beneath the highest class. These distinctions were much
more marked, immediately after the war of the revolution, than they are
to-day; and they are more marked to-day, even, than all but the most
lucky, or the most meritorious, whichever fortune dignifies, are willing
to allow.

The courtship between my parents occurred while my father was at home,
to be cured of the wounds he had received in the engagement between the
Trumbull and the Watt. I have always supposed this was the moving cause
why my mother fancied that the grim-looking scar on the left side of
my father's face was so particularly becoming. The battle was fought in
June 1780, and my parents were married in the autumn of the same year.
My father did not go to sea again until after my birth, which took place
the very day that Cornwallis capitulated at Yorktown. These combined
events set the young sailor in motion, for he felt he had a family to
provide for, and he wished to make one more mark on the enemy in
return for the beauty-spot his wife so gloried in. He accordingly got a
commission in a privateer, made two or three fortunate cruises, and was
able at the peace to purchase a prize-brig, which he sailed, as master
and owner, until the year 1790, when he was recalled to the paternal
roof by the death of my grandfather. Being an only son, the captain, as
my father was uniformly called, inherited the land, stock, utensils and
crops, as already mentioned; while the six thousand pounds currency
that were “at use,” went to my two aunts, who were thought to be well
married, to men in their own class of life, in adjacent counties.

My father never went to sea after he inherited Clawbonny. From that
time down to the day of his death, he remained on his farm, with
the exception of a single winter passed in Albany as one of the
representatives of the county. In his day, it was a credit to a man to
represent a county, and to hold office under the State; though the abuse
of the elective principle, not to say of the appointing power, has
since brought about so great a change. Then, a member of congress was
_somebody_; now, he is only--a member of congress.

We were but two surviving children, three of the family dying infants,
leaving only my sister Grace and myself to console our mother in her
widowhood. The dire accident which placed her in this, the saddest of
all conditions for a woman who had been a happy wife, occurred in the
year 1794, when I was in my thirteenth year, and Grace was turned of
eleven. It may be well to relate the particulars.

There was a mill, just where the stream that runs through our valley
tumbles down to a level below that on which the farm lies, and empties
itself into a small tributary of the Hudson. This mill was on our
property, and was a source of great convenience and of some profit to
my father. There he ground all the grain that was consumed for domestic
purposes, for several miles around; and the tolls enabled him to fatten
his porkers and beeves, in a way to give both a sort of established
character. In a word, the mill was the concentrating point for all the
products of the farm, there being a little landing on the margin of
the creek that put up from the Hudson, whence a sloop sailed weekly
for town. My father passed half his time about the mill and landing,
superintending his workmen, and particularly giving directions about the
fitting of the sloop, which was his property also, and about the gear
of the mill. He was clever, certainly, and had made several useful
suggestions to the millwright who occasionally came to examine and
repair the works; but he was by no means so accurate a mechanic as he
fancied himself to be. He had invented some new mode of arresting the
movement, and of setting the machinery in motion when necessary; what
it was, I never knew, for it was not named at Clawbonny after the fatal
accident occurred. One day, however, in order to convince the millwright
of the excellence of this improvement, my father caused the machinery
to be stopped, and then placed his own weight upon the large wheel, in
order to manifest the sense he felt in the security of his invention.
He was in the very act of laughing exultingly at the manner in which the
millwright shook his head at the risk he ran, when the arresting power
lost its control of the machinery, the heavy head of water burst into
the buckets, and the wheel whirled round carrying my unfortunate father
with it. I was an eye-witness of the whole, and saw the face of my
parent, as the wheel turned it from me, still expanded in mirth. There
was but one revolution made, when the wright succeeded in stopping
the works. This brought the great wheel back nearly to its original
position, and I fairly shouted with hysterical delight when I saw my
father standing in his tracks, as it might be, seemingly unhurt. Unhurt
he would have been, though he must have passed a fearful keel-hauling,
but for one circumstance. He had held on to the wheel with the tenacity
of a seaman, since letting go his hold would have thrown him down a
cliff of near a hundred feet in depth, and he actually passed between
the wheel and the planking beneath it unharmed, although there was only
an inch or two to spare; but in rising from this fearful strait, his
head had been driven between a projecting beam and one of the buckets,
in a way to crush one temple in upon the brain. So swift and sudden had
been the whole thing, that, on turning the wheel, his lifeless body
was still inclining on its periphery, retained erect, I believe, in
consequence of some part of his coat getting attached, to the head of
a nail. This was the first serious sorrow of my life. I had always
regarded my father as one of the fixtures of the world; as a part of the
great system of the universe; and had never contemplated his death as
a possible thing. That another revolution might occur, and carry the
country back under the dominion of the British crown, would have seemed
to me far more possible than that my father could die. Bitter truth now
convinced me of the fallacy of such notions.

It was months and months before I ceased to dream of this frightful
scene. At my age, all the feelings were fresh and plastic, and grief
took strong hold of my heart. Grace and I used to look at each other
without speaking, long after the event, the tears starting to my eyes,
and rolling down her cheeks, our emotions being the only communications
between us, but communications that no uttered words could have made so
plain. Even now, I allude to my mother's anguish with trembling. She
was sent for to the house of the miller, where the body lay, and arrived
unapprised of the extent of the evil. Never can I--never shall I forget
the outbreakings of her sorrow, when she learned the whole of the
dreadful truth. She was in fainting fits for hours, one succeeding
another, and then her grief found tongue. There was no term of
endearment that the heart of woman could dictate to her speech, that was
not lavished on the lifeless clay. She called the dead “her Miles,” “her
beloved Miles,” “her husband,” “her own darling husband,” and by such
other endearing epithets. Once she seemed as if resolute to arouse
the sleeper from his endless trance, and she said, solemnly,
“_Father_--dear, _dearest_ father!” appealing as it might be to the
parent of her children, the tenderest and most comprehensive of all
woman's terms of endearment--“Father--dear, dearest father! open your
eyes and look upon your babes--your precious girl, and noble boy! Do not
thus shut out their sight for ever!”

But it was in vain. There lay the lifeless corpse, as insensible as
if the spirit of God had never had a dwelling within it. The principal
injury had been received on that much-prized scar; and again and again
did my poor mother kiss both, as if her caresses might yet restore
her husband to life. All would not do. The same evening, the body
was carried to the dwelling, and three days later it was laid in the
church-yard, by the side of three generations of forefathers, at a
distance of only a mile from Clawbonny. That funeral service, too, made
a deep impression on my memory. We had some Church of England people
in the valley; and old Miles Wallingford, the first of the name, a
substantial English franklin, had been influenced in his choice of a
purchase by the fact that one of Queen Anne's churches stood so near
the farm. To that little church, a tiny edifice of stone, with a
high, pointed roof, without steeple, bell, or vestry-room, had three
generations of us been taken to be christened, and three, including
my father, had been taken to be buried. Excellent, kind-hearted,
just-minded Mr. Hardinge read the funeral service over the man whom
his own father had, in the same humble edifice, christened. Our
neighbourhood has much altered of late years; but, then, few higher than
mere labourers dwelt among us, who had not some sort of hereditary claim
to be beloved. So it was with our clergyman, whose father had been
his predecessor, having actually married my grand-parents. The son had
united my father and mother, and now he was called on to officiate at
the funeral obsequies of the first. Grace and I sobbed as if our
hearts would break, the whole time we were in the church; and my poor,
sensitive, nervous little sister actually shrieked as she heard the
sound of the first clod that fell upon the coffin. Our mother was spared
that trying scene, finding it impossible to support it. She remained at
home, on her knees, most of the day on which the funeral occurred.

Time soothed our sorrows, though my mother, a woman of more than common
sensibility, or, it were better to say of uncommon affections, never
entirely recovered from the effects of her irreparable loss. She had
loved too well, too devotedly, too engrossingly, ever to think of a
second marriage, and lived only to care for the interests of Miles
Wallingford's children. I firmly believe we were more beloved because
we stood in this relation to the deceased, than because we were her own
natural offspring. Her health became gradually undermined, and, three
years after the accident of the mill, Mr. Hardinge laid her at my
father's side. I was now sixteen, and can better describe what passed
during the last days of her existence, than what took place at the
death of her husband. Grace and I were apprised of what was so likely to
occur, quite a month before the fatal moment arrived; and we were not
so much overwhelmed with sudden grief as we had been on the first great
occasion of family sorrow, though we both felt our loss keenly, and my
sister, I think I may almost say, inextinguishably. Mr. Hardinge had
us both brought to the bed-side, to listen to the parting advice of our
dying parent, and to be impressed with a scene that is always healthful,
if rightly improved. “You baptized these two dear children, good Mr.
Hardinge,” she said, in a voice that was already enfeebled by physical
decay, “and you signed them with the sign of the cross, in token of
Christ's death for them; and I now ask of your friendship and pastoral
care to see that they are not neglected at the most critical period of
their lives--that when impressions are the deepest, and yet the most
easily made. God will reward all your kindness to the orphan children
of your friends.” The excellent divine, a man who lived more for others
than for himself, made the required promises, and the soul of my mother
took its flight in peace.

Neither my sister nor myself grieved as deeply for the loss of this last
of our parents, as we did for that of the first. We had both seen so
many instances of her devout goodness, had been witnesses of so great a
triumph of her faith as to feel an intimate, though silent, persuasion
that her death was merely a passage to a better state of existence--that
it seemed selfish to regret. Still, we wept and mourned, even while,
in one sense, I think we rejoiced. She was relieved from, much bodily
suffering, and I remember, when I went to take a last look at her
beloved face, that I gazed on its calm serenity with a feeling akin to
exultation, as I recollected that pain could no longer exercise dominion
over her frame, and that her spirit was then dwelling in bliss. Bitter
regrets came later, it is true, and these were fully shared--nay, more
than shared--by Grace.

After the death of my father, I had never bethought me of the manner
in which he had disposed of his property. I heard something said of his
will, and gleaned a little, accidentally, of the forms that had been
gone through in proving the instrument, and of obtaining its probate.
Shortly after my mother's death, however, Mr. Hardinge had a free
conversation with both me and Grace on the subject, when we learned,
for the first time, the disposition that had been made. My father had
bequeathed to me the farm, mill, landing, sloop, stock, utensils, crops,
&c. &c., in full property; subject, however, to my mother's use of
the whole until I attained my majority; after which I was to give her
complete possession of a comfortable wing of the house, which had every
convenience for a small family within itself, certain privileges in the
fields, dairy, styes, orchards, meadows, granaries, &c., and to pay
her three hundred pounds currency, per annum, in money. Grace had four
thousand pounds that were “at use,” and I had all the remainder of the
personal property, which yielded about five hundred dollars a-year. As
the farm, sloop, mill, landing, &c., produced a net annual income of
rather more than a thousand dollars, besides all that was consumed in
housekeeping, I was very well off, in the way of temporal things, for
one who had been trained in habits as simple as those which reigned at
Clawbonny.

My father had left Mr. Hardinge the executor, and my mother an executrix
of his will, with survivorship. He had also made the same provision
as respected the guardians. Thus Grace and I became the wards of the
clergyman alone on the death of our last remaining parent. This was
grateful to us both, for we both truly loved this good man, and,
what was more, we loved his children. Of these there were two of ages
corresponding very nearly with our own; Rupert Hardinge being not quite
a year older than I was myself, and Lucy, his sister, about six months
younger than Grace. We were all four strongly attached to each other,
and had been so from infancy, Mr. Hardinge having had charge of my
education as soon as I was taken from a woman's school.

I cannot say, however, that Rupert Hardinge was ever a boy to give his
father the delight that a studious, well-conducted, considerate and
industrious child, has it so much in his power to yield to his parent.
Of the two, I was much the best scholar, and had been pronounced by
Mr. Hardinge fit to enter college, a twelvemonth before my mother died;
though she declined sending me to Yale, the institution selected by my
father, until my school-fellow was similarly prepared, it having been
her intention to give the clergyman's son a thorough education, in
furtherance of his father's views of bringing him up to the church. This
delay, so well and kindly meant, had the effect of changing the whole
course of my subsequent life.

My father, it seems, wished to make a lawyer of me, with the natural
desire of seeing me advanced to some honourable position in the State.
But I was averse to anything like serious mental labour, and was
greatly delighted when my mother determined to keep me out of college a
twelvemonth in order that my friend Rupert might be my classmate. It is
true I learned quick, and was fond of reading; but the first I could not
very well help, while the reading I liked was that which amused, rather
than that which instructed me. As for Rupert, though not absolutely
dull, but, on the other hand, absolutely clever in certain things,
he disliked mental labour even more than myself, while he liked
self-restraint of any sort far less. His father was sincerely pious, and
regarded his sacred office with too much reverence to think of bringing
up a “cosset-priest,” though he prayed and hoped that his son's
inclinations, under the guidance of Providence, would take that
direction. He seldom spoke on the subject himself, but I ascertained his
wishes through my confidential dialogues with his children. Lucy seemed
delighted with the idea, looking forward to the time when her brother
would officiate in the same desk where her father and grandfather had
now conducted the worship of God for more than half a century; a period
of time that, to us young people, seemed to lead us back to the dark
ages of the country. And all this the dear girl wished for her brother,
in connection with his spiritual rather than his temporal interests,
inasmuch as the living was worth only a badly-paid salary of one
hundred and fifty pounds currency per annum, together with a small
but comfortable rectory, and a glebe of five-and-twenty acres of very
tolerable land, which it was thought no sin, in that day, for the
clergyman to work by means of two male slaves, whom, with as many
females, he had inherited as part of the chattels of his mother.

I had a dozen slaves also; negroes who, as a race, had been in the
family almost as long as Clawbonny. About half of these blacks were
singularly laborious and useful, viz., four males and three of the
females; but several of the remainder were enjoying _otium_, and not
altogether without _dignitate_, as heir-looms to be fed, clothed and
lodged, for the good, or evil, they had done. There were some small-fry
in our kitchens, too, that used to roll about on the grass, and
munch fruit in the summer, _ad libitum;_ and stand so close in the
chimney-corners in cold weather, that I have often fancied they must
have been, as a legal wit of New York once pronounced certain eastern
coal-mines to be, incombustible. These negroes all went by the
patronymic of Clawbonny, there being among them Hector Clawbonny, Venus
Clawbonny, Caesar Clawbonny, Rose Clawbonny--who was as black as a
crow--Romeo Clawbonny, and Julietta, commonly called Julee, Clawbonny;
who were, with Pharaoh, Potiphar, Sampson and Nebuchadnezzar, all
Clawbonnys in the last resort. Neb, as the namesake of the herbiferous
king of Babylon was called, was about my own age, and had been a sort of
humble playfellow from infancy; and even now, when it was thought proper
to set him about the more serious toil which was to mark his humble
career, I often interfered to call him away to be my companion with
the rod, the fowling-piece, or in the boat, of which we had one that
frequently descended the creek, and navigated the Hudson for miles at a
time, under my command. The lad, by such means, and through an off-hand
friendliness of manner that I rather think was characteristic of my
habits at that day, got to love me as a brother or comrade. It is not
easy to describe the affection of an attached slave, which has blended
with it the pride of a partisan, the solicitude of a parent, and the
blindness of a lover. I do think Neb had more gratification in believing
himself particularly belonging to Master Miles, than I ever had in any
quality or thing I could call my own. Neb, moreover liked a vagrant
life, and greatly encouraged Rupert and myself in idleness, and a
desultory manner of misspending hours that could never be recalled.
The first time I ever played truant was under the patronage of Neb,
who decoyed me away from my books to go nutting on the mountain stoutly
maintaining that chestnuts were just as good as the spelling-book, or
any primer that could be bought in York.

I have forgotten to mention that the death of my mother, which occurred
in the autumn, brought about an immediate change in the condition of our
domestic economy. Grace was too young, being only fourteen, to preside
over such a household, and I could be of little use, either in the way
of directing or advising. Mr. Hardinge, who had received a letter to
that effect from the dying saint, that was only put into his hand the
day after the funeral, with a view to give her request the greater
weight, rented the rectory, and came to Clawbonny to live, bringing with
him both his children. My mother knew that his presence would be of the
greatest service to the orphans she left behind her; while the money
saved from his own household expenses might enable this single-minded
minister of the altar to lay by a hundred or two for Lucy, who, at his
demise, might otherwise be left without a penny, as it was then said,
cents not having yet come much into fashion.

This removal gave Grace and me much pleasure, for she was as fond of
Lucy as I was of Rupert, and, to tell the truth, so was I, too. Four
happier young people were not to be found in the State than we thus
became, each and all of us finding in the arrangement exactly the
association which was most agreeable to our feelings. Previously, we
only saw each other every day; now, we saw each other all day. At night
we separated at an early hour, it is true, each having his or her room;
but it was to meet at a still earlier hour the next morning, and to
resume our amusements in company. From study, all of us were relieved
for a month or two, and we wandered through the fields; nutted, gathered
fruit, or saw others gather it as well as the crops, taking as much
exercise as possible in the open air, equally for the good of our
bodies, and the lightening of our spirits.

I do not think vanity, or any feeling connected with self-love, misleads
me, when I say it would have been difficult to find four young people
more likely to attract the attention of a passer-by, than we four were,
in the fall of 1797. As for Rupert Hardinge, he resembled his mother,
and was singularly handsome in face, as well as graceful in movements.
He had a native gentility of air, of which he knew how to make the most,
and a readiness of tongue and a flow of spirits that rendered him an
agreeable, if not a very instructive companion. I was not ill-looking,
myself, though far from possessing the striking countenance of my
young associate. In manliness, strength and activity, however, I had
essentially the advantage over him, few youths of my age surpassing me
in masculine qualities of this nature, after I had passed my twelfth
year. My hair was a dark auburn, and it was the only thing about my
face, perhaps, that would cause a stranger to notice it; but this hung
about my temples and down my neck in rich ringlets, until frequent
applications of the scissors brought it into something like subjection.
It never lost its beauty entirely, and though now white as snow, it
is still admired. But Grace was the one of the party whose personal
appearance would be most likely to attract attention. Her face beamed
with sensibility and feeling, being one of those countenances on which
nature sometimes delights to impress the mingled radiance, sweetness,
truth and sentiment, that men ascribe to angels. Her hair was lighter
than mine; her eyes of a heavenly blue, all softness and tenderness;
her cheeks just of the tint of the palest of the coloured roses; and her
smile so full of gentleness and feeling, that, again and again, it
has controlled my ruder and more violent emotions, when they were fast
getting the mastery. In form, some persons might have thought Grace, in
a slight degree, too fragile, though her limbs would have been delicate
models for the study of a sculptor.

Lucy, too, had certainly great perfection, particularly in figure;
though in the crowd of beauty that has been so profusely lavished on the
youthful in this country, she would not have been at all remarked in
a large assembly of young American girls. Her face was pleasing
nevertheless; and there was a piquant contrast between the raven
blackness of her hair the deep blue of her eyes, and the dazzling
whiteness of her skin. Her colour, too, was high, and changeful with
her emotions. As for teeth, she had a set that one might have travelled
weeks to meet with their equals; and, though she seemed totally
unconscious of the advantage, she had a natural manner of showing them,
that would have made a far less interesting face altogether agreeable.
Her voice and laugh, too, when happy and free from care, were joyousness
itself.

It would be saying too much, perhaps, to assert that any human being was
ever totally indifferent to his or her personal appearance. Still, I do
not think either of our party, Rupert alone excepted, ever thought on
the subject, unless as it related to others, down to the period Of which
I am now writing. I knew, and saw, and felt that my sister was far more
beautiful than any of the young girls of her age and condition that I
had seen in her society; and I had pleasure and pride in the fact. I
knew that I resembled her in some respects, but I was never coxcomb
enough to imagine I had half her good-looks, even allowing for
difference of sex. My own conceit, so far as I then had any--plenty of
it came, a year or two later--but my own conceit, in 1797, rather ran
in the direction of my athletic properties, physical force, which was
unusually great for sixteen, and stature. As for Rupert, I would not
have exchanged these manly qualities for twenty times his good looks,
and a thought of envy never crossed my mind on the subject. I fancied
it might be well enough for a parson to be a little delicate, and a good
deal handsome; but for one who intended to knock about the world as I
had it already in contemplation to do, strength, health, vigour, courage
and activity, were much more to be desired than beauty.

Lucy I never thought of as handsome at all. I saw she was pleasing;
fancied she was even more so to me than to any one else; and I never
looked upon her sunny, cheerful and yet perfectly feminine face, without
a feeling of security and happiness. As for her honest eyes, they
invariably met my own with an open frankness that said, as plainly as
eyes could say anything, there was nothing to be concealed.



CHAPTER II.

  “Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus;
  Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits;--
  I rather would entreat thy company
  To see the wonders of the world abroad.”
   _Two Gentlemen of--Clawbonny._


During the year that succeeded after I was prepared for Yale, Mr.
Hardinge had pursued a very judicious course with my education. Instead
of pushing me into books that were to be read in the regular course of
that institution, with the idea of lightening my future labours, which
would only have been providing excuses for future idleness, we went back
to the elementary works, until even he was satisfied that nothing more
remained to be done in that direction. I had my two grammars literally
by heart, notes and all. Then we revised as thoroughly as possible,
reading everything anew, and leaving no passage unexplained. I learned
to scan, too, a fact that was sufficient to make a reputation for a
scholar, in America, half a century since. {*] After this, we turned our
attention to mathematics, a science Mr. Hardinge rightly enough
thought there was no danger of my acquiring too thoroughly. We mastered
arithmetic, of which I had a good deal of previous knowledge, in a
few weeks, and then I went through trigonometry, with some of the more
useful problems in geometry. This was the point at which I had arrived
when my mother's death occurred.

{Footnote *: The writer's master taught him to scan Virgil in 1801.
This gentleman was a graduate of Oxford. In 1803, the class to which the
writer then belonged in Yale, was the first that ever attempted to
scan in that institution. The quantities were in sad discredit in this
country, years after this, though Columbia and Harvard were a little in
advance of Yale. All that was ever done in the last college, during the
writer's time, was to scan the ordinary hexameter of Homer and Virgil.]

As for myself, I frankly admit a strong disinclination to be learned.
The law I might be forced to study, but practising it was a thing
my mind had long been made up never to do. There was a small vein of
obstinacy in my disposition that would have been very likely to carry
me through in such a determination, even had my mother lived, though
deference to her wishes would certainly have carried me as far as the
license. Even now she was no more, I was anxious to ascertain whether
she had left any directions or requests on the subject, either of which
would have been laws to me. I talked with Rupert on this matter, and
was a little shocked with the levity with which he treated it. “What
difference can it make to your parents, _now_,” he said, with an
emphasis that grated on my nerves, “whether you become a lawyer, or a
merchant, or a doctor, or stay here on your farm, and be a farmer, like
your father?”

“My father had been a sailor,” I answered, quick as lightning.

“True; and a noble, manly, gentleman-like calling it is! I never see a
sailor that I do not envy him his advantages. Why, Miles, neither of us
has ever been in town even, while your mother's boatmen, or your own, as
they are now, go there regularly once a-week. I would give the world to
be a sailor.”

“You, Rupert! Why, you know that your father in tends, or, rather,
wishes that you should become a clergyman.”

“A pretty appearance a young man of my figure would make in the pulpit,
Miles, or wearing a surplice. No, no; there have been two Hardinges
in the church in this century, and I have a fancy also to the sea. I
suppose you know that my great-grandfather was a captain in the navy,
and _he_ brought _his_ son up a parson; now, turn about is fair play,
and the parson ought to give a son back to a man-of-war. I've been
reading the lives of naval men, and it's surprising how many clergymen's
sons, in England, go into the navy, and how many sailors' sons get to be
priests.”

“But there is no navy in this country now--not even a single
ship-of-war, I believe.”

“That is the worst of it. Congress _did_ pass a law, two or three years
since, to build some frigates, but they have never been launched.
Now Washington has gone out of office, I suppose we shall never have
anything good in the country.”

I revered the name of Washington, in common with the whole country, but
I did not see the _sequitur_. Rupert, however, cared little for logical
inferences, usually asserting such things as he wished, and wishing such
as he asserted. After a short pause, he continued the discourse.

“You are now substantially your own master,” he said, “and can do as you
please. Should you go to sea and not like it, you have only to come back
to this place, where you will be just as much the master as if you had
remained here superintending cattle, cutting hay, and fattening pork,
the whole time.”

“I am not my own master, Rupert, any more than you are yourself. I am
your father's ward, and must so remain for more than five years to come.
I am just as much under his control as you, yourself.”

Rupert laughed at this, and tried to persuade me it would be a good
thing to relieve his worthy fether of all responsibility in the affair,
if I had seriously determined never to go to Yale, or to be a lawyer,
by going off to sea clandestinely, and returning when I was ready. If I
ever was to make a sailor, no time was to be lost; for all with whom he
had conversed assured him the period of life when such things were best
learned, was between sixteen and twenty. This I thought probable enough,
and I parted from my friend with a promise of conversing further with
him on the subject at an early opportunity.

I am almost ashamed to confess that Rupert's artful sophism nearly
blinded my eyes to the true distinction between right and wrong. If Mr.
Hardinge really felt himself bound by my father's wishes to educate me
for the bar, and my own repugnance to the profession was unconquerable,
why should I not relieve him from the responsibility at once by assuming
the right to judge for myself, and act accordingly? So far as Mr.
Hardinge was concerned, I had little difficulty in coming to a
conclusion, though the profound deference I still felt for my father's
wishes, and more especially for those of my sainted mother, had a hold
on my heart, and an influence on my conduct, that was not so easily
disposed of. I determined to have a frank conversation with Mr.
Hardinge, therefore, in order to ascertain how far either of my parents
had expressed anything that might be considered obligatory on me. My
plan went as far as to reveal my own desire to be a sailor, and to see
the world, but not to let it be known that I might go off without his
knowledge, as this would not be so absolutely relieving the excellent
divine “from all responsibility in the premises,” as was contemplated in
the scheme of his own son.

An opportunity soon occurred, when I broached the subject by asking Mr.
Hardinge whether my father, in his will, had ordered that I should be
sent to Yale, and there be educated for the bar. He had done nothing of
the sort. Had he left any particular request, writing, or message on the
subject, at all? Not that Mr. Hardinge knew. It is true, the last had
heard his friend, once or twice, make some general remark which would
lead one to suppose that Captain Wallingford had some vague expectations
I might go to the bar, but nothing further. My mind felt vastly relieved
by these admissions, for I knew my mother's tenderness too well to
anticipate that she would dream of absolutely dictating in a matter
that was so clearly connected with my own happiness and tastes. When
questioned on this last point, Mr. Hardinge did not hesitate to say that
my mother had conversed with him several times concerning her views, as
related to my career in life. She wished me to go to Yale, and then
to read law, even though I did not practise. As soon as this, much was
said, the conscientious servant of God paused, to note the effect on
me. Reading disappointment in my countenance, I presume, he immediately
added, “But your mother, Miles, laid no restraint on you; for she knew
it was _you_ who was to follow the career, and not herself. 'I should as
soon think of commanding whom he was to marry, as to think of forcing, a
profession on him,' she added. 'He is the one who is to decide this, and
he only. We may try to guide and influence him, but not go beyond this.
I leave you, dear sir, to do all you think best in this matter, certain
that your own wisdom will be aided by the providence of a kind Master.'”

I now plainly told Mr. Hardinge my desire to see the world, and to be a
sailor. The divine was astounded at this declaration, and I saw that he
was grieved. I believe some religious objections were connected with
his reluctance to consent to my following the sea, as a calling. At any
rate, it was easy to discover that these objections were lasting
and profound. In that day, few Americans travelled, by way of an
accomplishment, at all; and those few belonged to a class in society so
much superior to mine, as to render it absurd to think of sending,
me abroad with similar views. Nor would my fortune justify such
an expenditure. I was well enough off to be a comfortable and free
housekeeper, and as independent as a king on my own farm; living in
abundance, nay, in superfluity, so far as all the ordinary wants were
concerned; but men hesitated a little about setting up for gentlemen at
large, in the year 1797. The country was fast getting rich, it is true,
under the advantages of its neutral position; but it had not yet been
long enough emancipated from its embarrassments to think of playing the
nabob on eight hundred pounds currency a-year. The interview terminated
with a strong exhortation from my guardian not to think of abandoning my
books for any project as visionary and useless as the hope of seeing the
world in the character of a common sailor.

I related all this to Rupert, who, I now perceived for the first
time, did not hesitate to laugh at some of his father's notions, as
puritanical and exaggerated. He maintained that every one was the best
judge of what he liked, and that the sea had produced quite as fair a
proportion of saints as the land. He was not certain, considering the
great difference there was in numbers, that more good men might not be
traced in connection with the ocean, than in connection with any other
pursuit.

“Take the lawyers now, for instance, Miles,” he said, “and what can you
make out of them, in the way of religion, I should like to know? They
hire their consciences out at so much _per diem_, and talk and reason
just as zealously for the wrong, as they do for the right.”

“By George, that is true enough, Rupert. There is old David Dockett, I
remember to have heard Mr. Hardinge say always did double duty for his
fee, usually acting as witness, as well as advocate. They tell me he
will talk by the hour of facts that he and his clients get up between
them, and look the whole time as if he believed all he said to be true.”

Rupert laughed at this sally, and pushed the advantage it gave him by
giving several other examples to prove how much his father was mistaken
by supposing that a man was to save his soul from perdition simply
by getting admitted to the bar. After discussing the matter a little
longer, to my astonishment Rupert came out with a plain proposal that
he and I should elope, go to New York, and ship as foremastlads in some
Indiaman, of which there were then many sailing, at the proper season,
from that port. I did not dislike the idea, so far as I was myself
concerned; but the thought of accompanying Rupert in such an adventure,
startled me. I knew I was sufficiently secure of the future to be able
to risk a little at the present moment; but such was not the case with
my friend. If I made a false step at so early an age, I had only to
return to Clawbonny, where I was certain to find competence and a home;
but, with Rupert, it was very different. Of the moral hazards I ran,
I then knew nothing, and of course they gave me no concern. Like all
inexperienced persons, I supposed myself too strong in virtue to be
in any danger of contamination; and this portion of the adventure was
regarded with the self-complacency with which the untried are apt
to regard their own powers of endurance. I thought myself morally
invulnerable.

But Rupert might find it difficult to retrace any serious error made
at his time of life. This consideration would have put an end to the
scheme, so far as my companion was concerned, had not the thought
suggested itself that I should always have it in my own power to aid my
friend. Letting something of this sort escape me, Rupert was not slow in
enlarging on it, though this was done with great tact and discretion. He
proved that, by the time we both came of age, he would be qualified to
command a ship, and that, doubtless, I would naturally desire to invest
some of my spare cash in a vessel. The accumulations of my estate alone
would do this much, within the next five years, and then a career of
wealth and prosperity would lie open before us both.

“It is a good thing, Miles, no doubt,” continued this tempting sophist,
“to have money at use, and a large farm, and a mill, and such things;
but many a ship nets more money, in a single voyage, than your whole
estate would sell for. Those that begin with nothing, too, they tell me,
are the most apt to succeed; and, if we go off with our clothes only, we
shall begin with nothing, too. Success may be said to be certain. I like
the notion of beginning with nothing, it is so American!”

It is, in truth, rather a besetting weakness of America to suppose
that men who have never had any means for qualifying themselves for
particular pursuits, are the most likely to succeed in them; and
especially to fancy that those who “begin poor” are in a much better way
for acquiring wealth than they who commence with some means; and I was
disposed to lean to this latter doctrine myself, though I confess I
cannot recall an instance in which any person of my acquaintance has
given away his capital, however large and embarrassing it may have been,
in order to start fair with his poorer competitors. Nevertheless, there
was something taking, to my imagination, in the notion of being the
fabricator of my own fortune. In that day, it was easy to enumerate
every dwelling on the banks of the Hudson that aspired to be called a
seat, and I had often heard them named by those who were familiar with
the river. I liked the thought of erecting a house on the Clawbonny
property that might aspire to equal claims, and to be the owner of a
_seat_; though only after I had acquired the means, myself, to carry out
such a project. At present, I owned only a _house_; my ambition was, to
own a _seat_.

In a word, Rupert and I canvassed this matter in every possible way
for a month, now leaning to one scheme, and now to another, until I
determined to lay the whole affair before the two girls, under a solemn
pledge of secrecy. As we passed hours in company daily, opportunities
were not wanting to effect this purpose. I thought my friend was a
little shy on this project; but I had so much affection for Grace, and
so much confidence in Lucy's sound judgment, that I was not to be turned
aside from the completion of my purpose. It is now more than forty years
since the interview took place in which this confidence was bestowed;
but every minute occurrence connected with it is as fresh in my mind as
if the whole had taken place only yesterday.

We were all four of us seated on a rude bench that my mother had caused
to be placed under the shade of an enormous oak that stood on the most
picturesque spot, perhaps, on the whole farm, and which commanded a
distant view of one of the loveliest reaches of the Hudson. Our side of
the river, in general, does not possess as fine views as the eastern,
for the reason that all our own broken, and in some instances
magnificent back-ground of mountains, fills up the landscape for our
neighbours, while we are obliged to receive the picture as it is set in
a humbler frame; but there are exquisite bits to be found on the western
bank, and this was one of the very best of them. The water was as placid
as molten silver, and the sails of every vessel in sight were hanging
in listless idleness from their several spars, representing commerce
asleep. Grace had a deep feeling for natural scenery, and she had a
better mode of expressing her thoughts, on such occasions, than is usual
with girls of fourteen. She first drew our attention to the view by one
of her strong, eloquent bursts of eulogium; and Lucy met the remark
with a truthful, simple answer, that showed abundant sympathy with
the sentiment, though with less of exaggeration of manner and feeling,
perhaps. I seized the moment as favourable for my purpose, and spoke
out.

“If you admire a vessel so much, Grace,” I said, “you will probably be
glad to hear that I think of becoming a sailor.”

A silence of near two minutes succeeded, during which time I affected to
be gazing at the distant sloops, and then I ventured to steal a glance
at my companions. I found Grace's mild eyes earnestly riveted on
my face; and, turning from their anxious expression with a little
uneasiness, I encountered those of Lucy looking at me as intently as if
she doubted whether her ears had not deceived her.

“A sailor, Miles!”--my sister now slowly repeated--“I thought it settled
you were to study law.”

“As far from that as we are from England; I've fully made up my mind to
see the world if I can, and Rupert, here--”

“What of Rupert, here?” Grace asked, a sudden change again coming over
her sweet countenance, though I was altogether too inexperienced to
understand its meaning. “_He_ is certainly to be a clergyman--his dear
father's assistant, and, a long, long, _very_ long time hence, his
successor!”

I could see that Rupert was whistling on a low key, and affecting to
look cool; but my sister's solemn, earnest, astonished manner had more
effect on us both, I believe, than either would have been willing to
own.

“Come, girls,” I said at length, putting the best face on the matter,
“there is no use in keeping secrets from _you_--but remember that what
I am about to tell you _is_ a secret, and on no account is to be
betrayed.”

“To no one but Mr. Hardinge,” answered Grace. “If you intend to be a
sailor, he ought to know it.”

“That comes from looking at our duties superficially,” I had caught this
phrase from my friend, “and not distinguishing properly between their
shadows and their substance.”

“Duties superficially! I do not understand you, Miles. Certainly Mr.
Hardinge ought to be told what profession you mean to follow. Remember,
brother, he now fills the place of a parent to you.”

“He is not more _my_ parent than Rupert's--I fancy you will admit that
much!”

“Rupert, again! What has Rupert to do with your going to sea?”

“Promise me, then, to keep my secret, and you shall know all; both you
and Lucy must give me your words. I know you will not break them, when
once given.”

“Promise him, Grace,” said Lucy, in a low tone, and a voice that, even
at that age, I could perceive was tremulous. “If we promise, we shall
learn everything, and then may have some effect on these headstrong boys
by our advice.”

“Boys! _You_ cannot mean, Lucy, that Rupert is not to be a
clergyman--your father's assistant; that Rupert means to be a sailor,
too?”

“One never knows what boys will do. Let us promise them, dear; then we
can better judge.”

“I do” promise you, Miles, “said my sister, in a voice so solemn as
almost to frighten me.

“And I, Miles,” added Lucy; but it was so low, I had to lean forward to
catch the syllables.

“This is honest and right,”--it was honest, perhaps, but very
wrong,--“and it convinces me that you are both reasonable, and will be
of use to us. Rupert and I have both made up our minds, and intend to be
sailors.”

Exclamations followed from both girls, and another long silence
succeeded.

“As for the law, hang all law!” I continued, hemming, and determined to
speak like a man. “I never heard of a Wallingford who was a lawyer.”

“But you have _both_ heard of Hardinges who were clergymen,” said Grace,
endeavouring to smile, though the expression of her countenance was so
painful that even now I dislike to recall it.

“And sailors, too,” put in Rupert, a little more stoutly than I thought
possible. “My father's grandfather was an officer in the navy.”

“And _my_ father was a sailor himself--in the navy, too.”

“But there is no navy in this country now, Miles,” returned Lucy, in an
expostulating tone.

“What of that? There are plenty of ships. The ocean is just as big, and
the world just as wide, as if we had a navy to cover the first. I see no
great objection on that account--do you, Ru?”

“Certainly not. What we want is to go to sea, and that can be done in an
Indiaman, as well as in a man-of-war.”

“Yes,” said I, stretching myself with a little importance. “I fancy an
Indiaman, a vessel that goes all the way to Calcutta, round the Cape
of Good Hope, in the track of Vasquez de Gama, isn't exactly an Albany
sloop.”

“Who is Vasquez de Gama?” demanded Lucy, with so much quickness as to
surprise me.

“Why, a _noble_ Portuguese, who discovered the Cape of Good Hope, and
first sailed round it, and then went to the Indies. You see, girls, even
_nobles_ are sailors, and why should not Rupert and I be sailors?”

“It is not that, Miles,” my sister answered; “every honest calling
is respectable. Have you and Rupert spoken to Mr. Hardinge on this
subject?”

“Not exactly--not spoken--hinted only--that is, blindly--not so as to be
understood, perhaps.”

“He will _never_ consent, boys!” and this was uttered with something
very like an air of triumph.

“We have no intention of asking it of him, Grace. Rupert and I intend to
be off next week, without saying a word to Mr. Hardinge on the subject.”

Another long, eloquent silence succeeded, during which I saw Lucy bury
her face in her apron, while the tears openly ran down my sister's
cheek.

“You _do_ not--_cannot_ mean to do anything so cruel, Miles!” Grace at
length said.

“It is exactly because it will not be cruel, that we intend to do
it,”--here I nudged Rupert with my elbow, as a hint that I wanted
assistance; but he made no other reply than an answering nudge, which
I interpreted into as much as if he had said in terms, “You've got
into the scrape in your own way, and you may get out of it in the same
manner.” “Yes,” I continued, finding succour hopeless, “yes, _that's_
just it.”

“What is just it, Miles? You speak in a way to show that you are not
satisfied with yourself--neither you nor Rupert is satisfied with
himself, if the truth were known.”

“I not satisfied with _myself!_ Rupert not satisfied with _himself!_
You never were more mistaken in your life, Grace. If there ever were two
boys in New York State that _were_ well satisfied with themselves, they
are just Rupert and I.”

Here Lucy raised her face from the apron and burst into a laugh, the
tears filling her eyes all the while.

“Believe them, dear Grace,” she said. “They are precisely two
self-satisfied, silly fellows, that have got some ridiculous notions in
their heads, and then begin to talk about 'superficial views of duties,'
and all such nonsense. My father will set it all right, and the boys
will have had their talk.”

“Not so last, Miss Lucy, if you please. Your father will not know a
syllable of the matter until you tell him all about it, after we
are gone. We intend 'to relieve him from all responsibility in the
premises.'”

This last sounded very profound, and a little magnificent, to my
imagination; and I looked at the girls to note the effect. Grace was
weeping, and weeping only; but Lucy looked saucy and mocking, even while
the tears bedewed her smiling face, as rain sometimes falls while the
sun is shining.

“Yes,” I repeated, with emphasis, “'of all responsibility in the
premises.' I hope that is plain English, and good English, although I
know that Mr. Hardinge has been trying to make you both so simple in
your language, that you turn up your noses at a profound sentiment,
whenever you hear one.”

In 1797, the grandiose had by no means made the deep invasion into the
everyday language of the country, that it has since done. Anything of
the sublime, or of the recondite, school was a good deal more apt to
provoke a smile, than it is to-day--the improvement proceeding, as
I have understood through better judges than myself, from the great
melioration of mind and manners that is to be traced to the speeches in
congress, and to the profundities of the newspapers. Rupert, however,
frequently ornamented his ideas, and I may truly say everything
ambitious that adorned my discourse was derived from his example. I
almost thought Lucy impertinent for presuming to laugh at sentiments
which came from such a source, and, by way of settling my own
correctness of thought and terms, I made no bones of falling back on my
great authority, by fairly pointing him out.

“I thought so!” exclaimed Lucy, now laughing with all her heart, though
a little hysterically; “I thought so, for this is just like Rupert,
who is always talking to me about 'assuming the responsibility,' and
'conclusions in the premises,' and all such nonsense. Leave the boys to
my father, Grace, and he will 'assume the responsibility' of 'concluding
the premises,' and the whole of the foolish scheme along with it!”

This would have provoked me, had not Grace manifested so much sisterly
interest in my welfare that I was soon persuaded to tell _her_--that
minx Lucy overhearing every syllable, though I had half a mind to tell
her to go away--all about our project.

“You see,” I continued, “if Mr. Hardinge knows anything about our plan,
people will say he ought to have stopped us. 'He a clergyman, and not
able to keep two lads of sixteen or seventeen from running away and
going to sea!' they will say, as if it were so easy to prevent two
spirited youths from seeing the world. Whereas, if he knew nothing about
it, nobody can blame him. That is what I call 'relieving him from the
responsibility.' Now, we intend to be off next week, or as soon as the
jackets and trowsers that are making for us, under the pretence of
being boat-dresses, are finished. We mean to go down the river in the
sail-boat, taking Neb with us to bring the boat back. Now you know
the whole story, there will be no occasion to leave a letter for Mr.
Hardinge; for, three hours after we have sailed, you can tell him
everything. We shall be gone a year; at the end of that time you may
look for us both, and glad enough shall we all be to see each other.
Rupert and I will be young men then, though you call us boys now.”

This last picture a good deal consoled the girls. Rupert, too, who had
unaccountably kept back, throwing the labouring-oar altogether on me,
came to the rescue, and, with his subtle manner and oily tongue, began
to make the wrong appear the right. I do not think he blinded his own
sister in the least, but I fear he had too much influence over mine.
Lucy, though all heart, was as much matter-of-fact as her brother was a
sophist. He was ingenious in glozing over truths; she, nearly unerring
in detecting them. I never knew a greater contrast between two human
beings, than there was between these two children of the same parents,
in this particular. I have heard that the son took after the mother, in
this respect, and that the daughter took after the father; though Mrs.
Hardinge died too early to have had any moral influence on the character
of her children.

We came again and again to the discussion of our subject during the next
two or three days. The girls endeavoured earnestly to persuade us to ask
Mr. Hardinge's permission for the step we were about to undertake;
but all in vain. We lads were so thoroughly determined to “relieve the
divine from all responsibility in the premises,” that they might as well
have talked to stones. We knew these just-minded, sincere, upright girls
would not betray us, and continued obdurate to the last. As we expected,
as soon as convinced their importunities were useless, they seriously
set about doing all they could to render us comfortable. They made
us duck bags to hold our clothes, two each, and mended our linen,
stockings, &c., and even helped to procure us some clothes more suited
to the contemplated expedition than most of those we already possessed.
Our “long togs,” indeed, we determined to leave behind us, retaining
just one suit each, and that of the plainest quality. In the course of
a week everything was ready, our bags well lined, being concealed in
the storehouse at the landing. Of this building I could at any moment
procure the key, my authority as heir-apparent being very considerable,
already, on the farm.

As for Neb, he was directed to have the boat all ready for the
succeeding Tuesday evening, it being the plan to sail the day after the
Wallingford of Clawbonny (this was the name of the sloop) had gone on
one of her regular trips, in order to escape a pursuit. I had made all
the calculations about the tide, and knew that the Wallingford would go
out about nine in the morning, leaving us to follow before midnight. It
was necessary to depart at night and when the wharf was clear, in order
to avoid observation.

Tuesday was an uneasy, nervous and sad day for us all, Mr. Hardinge
excepted. As the last had not the smallest distrust, he continued calm,
quiet, and cheerful as was his wont. Rupert had a conscience-stricken
and furtive air about him, while the eyes of the two dear, girls were
scarcely a moment without tears. Grace seemed now the most composed
of the two, and I have since suspected that she had had a private
conversation with my ingenious friend, whose convincing powers were of
a very extraordinary quality, when he set about their use in downright
earnest. As for Lucy, she seemed to me to have been weeping the entire
day.

At nine o'clock it was customary for the whole family to separate, after
prayers. Most of us went to bed at that early hour, though Mr. Hardinge
himself seldom sought his pillow until midnight. This habit compelled
us to use a good deal of caution in getting out of the house, in which
Rupert and myself succeeded, however, without discovery, just as the
clock struck eleven. We had taken leave of the girls in a hasty manner,
in a passage, shaking hands, and each of us kissing his own sister,
as he affected to retire for the night. To own the truth, we were much
gratified in finding how reasonably Grace and Lucy behaved, on the
occasion, and not a little surprised, for we had expected a scene,
particularly with the former.

We walked away from the house with heavy hearts, few leaving the
paternal roof for the first time, to enter upon the chances of the
world, without a deep sense of the dependence in which they had hitherto
lived. We walked fast and silently, and reached the wharf in less than
half an hour, a distance of near two miles. I was just on the point of
speaking to Neb, whose figure I could see in the boat, when I caught a
glimpse of two female forms within six feet of me. There were Grace and
Lucy, in tears, both waiting our arrival, with a view to see us depart!
I confess I was shocked and concerned at seeing these two delicate girls
so far from their home, at such an hour; and my first impulse was to see
them both safely back before I would enter the boat; but to this neither
would consent. All my entreaties were thrown away, and I was obliged to
submit.

I know not exactly how it happened, but of the fact I am certain; odd as
it may seem, at a moment like that, when about to separate, instead of
each youth's getting his own sister aside to make his last speeches, and
say his last say to, each of us got his friend's sister aside. I do not
mean that we were making love, or anything of the sort; we were a little
too young, perhaps, for that; but we obeyed an impulse which, as Rupert
would have said, “produced that result.”

What passed between Grace and her companion, I do not know. As for Lucy
and myself, it was all plain-sailing and fair dealing. The excellent
creature forced on me six gold pieces, which I knew had come to her as
an heirloom from her mother, and which I had often heard her declare
she never meant to use, unless in the last extremity. She knew I had but
five dollars on earth, and that Rupert had not one; and she offered me
this gold. I told her Rupert had better take it; no, _I_ had better take
it. I should use it more prudently than Rupert, and would use it for
the good of both. “Besides, you are rich,” she said, smiling through her
tears, “and can repay me--I _lend_ them to you; to Rupert I should have
to _give_ them.” I could not refuse the generous girl, and took the
money, all half-joes, with a determination to repay them with interest.
Then I folded her to my heart, and kissed her six or eight times with
fervour, the first time I had done such a thing in two years, and tore
myself away. I do not think Rupert embraced Grace, but I confess I do
not know, although we were standing within three or four yards of each
other, the whole time.

“Write, Miles--write, Rupert,” said the sobbing girls leaning forward
from the wharf, as we shoved off. It was not so dark but we could see
their dear forms for several minutes, or until a bend in the creek put a
dark mass of earth between us and them.

Such was the manner of my departure from Clawbonny, in the month of
September, 1797. I wanted a few days of being seventeen; Rupert was
six months older, and Neb was his senior, again, by near a twelvemonth.
Everything was in the boat but our hearts. Mine, I can truly say,
remained with the two beloved creatures we left on the wharf; while
Rupert's was betwixt and between, I fancy--seldom absolutely deserting
the dear tenement in which it was encased by nature.



CHAPTER III.

  “There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity
  That he from our lasses should wander awa';
  For he's bonny and braw, weel-favoured witha',
  And his hair has a natural buckle and a'.
  His coat is the hue of his bonnet so blue;
  His pocket is white as the new-driven snaw;
  His hose they are blue, and his shoon like the slae,
  And his clean siller buckles they dazzle us a'.”
   BURNS.


We had selected our time well, as respects the hour of departure. It was
young ebb, and the boat floated swiftly down the creek, though the high
banks of the latter would have prevented our feeling any wind, even
if there were a breeze on the river. Our boat was of some size,
sloop-rigged and half-decked; but Neb's vigorous arms made her move
through the water with some rapidity, and, to own the truth, the lad
sprang to his work like a true runaway negro. I was a skilful oarsman
myself, having received many lessons from my father in early boyhood,
and being in almost daily practice for seven mouths in the year. The
excitement of the adventure, its romance, or what for a short time
seemed to me to be romance, and the secret apprehension of being
detected, which I believe accompanies every clandestine undertaking,
soon set me in motion also. I took one of the oars, and, in less than
twenty minutes, the Grace & Lucy, for so the boat was called, emerged
from between two, high, steep banks, and entered on the broader bosom of
the Hudson.

Neb gave a half-suppressed, negro-like cry of exultation, as we shot
out from our cover, and ascertained that there was a pleasant and fair
breeze blowing. In three minutes we had the jib and mainsail on the
boat, the helm was up, the sheet was eased off, and we were gliding
down-stream at the rate of something like five miles an hour. I took the
helm, almost as a matter of course; Rupert being much too indolent to do
anything unnecessarily, while Neb was far too humble to aspire to such
an office while Master Miles was there, willing and ready. In that day,
indeed, it was so much a matter of course for the skipper of a Hudson
river craft to steer, that most of the people who lived on the banks
of the stream imagined that Sir John Jervis, Lord Anson, and the other
great English admirals of whom they had read and heard, usually amused
themselves with that employment, out on the ocean. I remember the hearty
laugh in which my unfortunate father indulged, when Mr. Hardinge once
asked him how he could manage to get any sleep, on account of this
very duty. But we were very green, up at Clawbonny, in most things that
related to the world.

The hour that succeeded was one of the most painful I ever passed in my
life. I recalled my father, his manly frankness, his liberal bequests in
my favour, and his precepts of respect and obedience; all of which, it
now seemed to me, I had openly dishonoured. Then came the image of my
mother, with her love and sufferings, her prayers, and her mild but
earnest exhortations to be good. I thought I could see both these
parents regarding me with sorrowful, though not with reproachful
countenances. They appeared to be soliciting my return, with a species
of silent, but not the less eloquent, warnings of the consequences.
Grace and Lucy, and their sobs, and admonitions, and entreaties to
abandon my scheme, and to write, and not to remain away long, and all
that tender interest had induced two warm-hearted girls to utter at
our parting, came fresh and vividly to my mind. The recollection proved
nearly too much for me. Nor did I forget Mr. Hardinge, and the distress
he would certainly feel, when he discovered that he had not only lost
his ward, but his only son. Then Clawbonny itself, the house, the
orchards, the meadows, the garden, the mill, and all that belonged to
the farm, began to have a double value in my eyes, and to serve as so
many cords attached to my heart-strings, and to remind me that the rover

“Drags at each remove a lengthening chain.'”

I marvelled at Rupert's tranquility. I did not then understand his
character as thoroughly as I subsequently got to know it. All that he
most prized was with him in the boat, in fact, and this lessened his
grief at parting from less beloved objects. Where Rupert was, there was
his paradise. As for Neb, I do believe his head was over his shoulder,
for he affected to sit with his face down-stream, so long as the hills
that lay in the rear of Clawbonny could be at all distinguished. This
must have proceeded from tradition, or instinct, or some latent negro
quality; for I do not think the fellow fancied _he_ was running away. He
knew that his two young masters were; but he was fully aware he was my
property, and no doubt thought, as long as he staid in my company, he
was in the line of his legitimate duty. Then it was _my_ plan that he
should return with the boat, and perhaps these backward glances were no
more than the shadows of coming events, cast, in his case, _behind_.

Rupert was indisposed to converse, for, to tell the truth, he had eaten
a hearty supper, and began to feel drowsy; and I was too much wrapped up
in my own busy thoughts to solicit any communications. I found a sort of
saddened pleasure in setting a watch for the night, therefore, which had
an air of seaman-like duty about it, that in a slight degree revived
my old taste for the profession. It was midnight, and I took the first
watch myself, bidding my two companions to crawl under the half-deck,
and go to sleep. This they both did without any parley, Rupert occupying
an inner place, while Neb lay with his legs exposed to the night air.

The breeze freshened, and for some time I thought it might be necessary
to reef, though we were running dead before the wind. I succeeded in
holding on, however, and I found the Grace & Lucy was doing wonders in
my watch. When I gave Rupert his call at four o'clock, the boat was just
approaching two frowning mountains, where the river was narrowed to
a third or fourth of its former width; and, by the appearance of the
shores, and the dim glimpses I had caught of a village of no great size
on the right bank, I knew we were in what is called Newburgh Bay. This
was the extent of our former journeyings south, all three of us having
once before, and only once, been as low as Fishkill Landing, which lies
opposite to the place that gives this part of the river its name.

Rupert now took the helm, and I went to sleep. The wind still continued
fresh and fair, and I felt no uneasiness on account of the boat. It is
true, there were two parts of the navigation before us of which I had
thought a little seriously, but not sufficiently so to keep me awake.
These were the Race, a passage in the Highlands, and Tappan Sea; both
points on the Hudson of which the navigators of that classical stream
were fond of relating the marvels. The first I knew was formidable only
later in the autumn, and, as for the last, I hoped to enjoy some of its
wonders in the morning. In this very justifiable expectation, I fell
asleep.

Neb did not call me until ten o'clock. I afterwards discovered that
Rupert kept the helm for only an hour, and then, calculating that from
five until nine were four hours, he thought it a pity the negro should
not have his share of the glory of that night. When I was awakened, it
was merely to let me know that it was time to eat something--Neb would
have starved before he would precede his young master in that necessary
occupation--and I found Rupert in a deep and pleasant sleep at my side.

We were in the centre of Tappan, and the Highlands had been passed in
safety. Neb expatiated a little on the difficulties of the navigation,
the river having many windings, besides being bounded by high mountains;
but, after all, he admitted that there was water enough, wind enough,
and a road that was plain enough. From this moment, excitement kept us
wide awake. Everything was new, and everything seemed delightful. The
day was pleasant, the wind continued fair, and nothing occurred to mar
our joy. I had a little map, one neither particularly accurate, nor very
well engraved; and I remember the importance with which, after having
ascertained the fact myself, I pointed out to my two companions the
rocky precipices on the western bank, as New Jersey! Even-Rupert was
struck with this important circumstance. As for Neb, he was actually in
ecstasies, rolling his large black eyes, and showing his white teeth,
until he suddenly closed his truly coral and plump lips, to demand what
New Jersey meant? Of course I gratified this laudable desire to obtain
knowledge, and Neb seemed still more pleased than ever, now he had
ascertained that New Jersey was a State. Travelling was not as much
of an every-day occupation, at that time, as it is now; and it was, in
truth, something for three American lads, all under nineteen, to be able
to say that they had seen a State, other than their own.

Notwithstanding the rapid progress we had made for the first few hours
of our undertaking, the voyage was far from being ended. About noon the
wind came out light from the southward, and, having a flood-tide, we
were compelled to anchor. This made us all uneasy, for, while we were
stationary, we did not seem to be running away. The ebb came again, at
length, however, and then we made sail, and began to turn down with the
tide. It was near sunset before we got a view of the two or three
spires that then piloted strangers to the town. New York was not the
“commercial emporium” in 1796; so high-sounding a title, indeed, scarce
belonging to the simple English of the period, it requiring a very
great collection of half-educated men to venture on so ambitious an
appellation--the only emporium that existed in America, during the
last century, being a slop-shop in Water street, and on the island of
Manhattan. _Commercial_ emporium was a flight of fancy, indeed, that
must have required a whole board of aldermen, and an extra supply of
turtle, to sanction. What is meant by a _literary_ emporium, I leave
those editors who are “native and to the _manor_ born,” to explain.

We first saw the State Prison, which was then new, and a most imposing
edifice, according to our notions, as we drew near the town. Like the
gallows first seen by a traveller in entering a strange country, it was
a pledge of civilization. Neb shook his head, as he gazed at it, with a
moralizing air, and said it had a “wicked look.” For myself, I own I
did not regard it altogether without dread. On Rupert it made less
impression than on any of the three. He was always somewhat obtuse on
the subject of morals.{*]

{Footnote *: It may be well to tell the European who shall happen to
read this book, that in America a “State's Prison” is not for prisoners
of State, but for common rogues: the term coming from the name borne by
the local governments.]

New York, in that day, and on the Hudson side of the town, commenced
a short distance above Duane street. Between Greenwich, as the little
hamlet around the State Prison was called, and the town proper, was an
interval of a mile and a half of open fields, dotted here and there with
country-houses. Much of this space was in broken hills, and a few piles
of lumber lay along the shores. St. John's church had no existence, and
most of the ground in its vicinity was in low swamp. As we glided
along the wharves, we caught sight of the first market I had then ever
seen--such proofs of an advanced civilization not having yet made their
way into the villages of the interior. It was called “The Bear,” from
the circumstance that the first meat ever exposed for sale in it was of
that animal; but the appellation has disappeared before the intellectual
refinement of these later times--the name of the soldier and statesman,
Washington, having fairly supplanted that of the bear! Whether this
great moral improvement was brought about by the Philosophical Society,
or the Historical Society, or “The Merchants,” or the Aldermen of New
York, I have never ascertained. If the latter, one cannot but admire
their disinterested modesty in conferring this notable honour on the
Father of his country, inasmuch as all can see that there never has been
a period when their own board has not possessed distinguished members,
every way qualified to act as god-fathers to the most illustrious
markets of the republic. But Manhattan, in the way of taste, has never
had justice done it. So profound is its admiration for all the higher
qualities, that Franklin and Fulton have each a market to himself, in
addition to this bestowed on Washington. Doubtless there would have
been Newton Market, and Socrates Market, and Solomon Market, but for
the patriotism of the town, which has forbidden it from going out of
the hemisphere, in quest of names to illustrate. Bacon Market
would doubtless have been too equivocal to be tolerated, under any
circumstances. Then Bacon was a rogue, though a philosopher, and markets
are always appropriated to honest people. At all events, I am rejoiced
the reproach of having a market called “The Bear” has been taken away,
as it was tacitly admitting our living near, if not absolutely in, the
woods.

We passed the Albany basin, a large receptacle for North River craft,
that is now in the bosom of the town and built on, and recognized in it
the mast-head of the Wallingford. Neb was shown the place, for he was to
bring the boat round to it, and join the sloop, in readiness to return
in her. We rounded the Battery, then a circular stripe of grass, with
an earthen and wooden breastwork running along the margin of the
water, leaving a narrow promenade on the exterior. This brought us to
White-Hall, since so celebrated for its oarsmen, where we put in for a
haven. I had obtained the address of a better sort of sailor-tavern in
that vicinity, and, securing the boat, we shouldered the bags, got a boy
to guide us, and were soon housed. As it was near night, Rupert and
I ordered supper, and Neb was directed to pull the boat round to the
sloop, and to return to us in the morning; taking care, however, not to
let our lodgings be known.

The next day, I own I thought but little of the girls, Clawbonny, or Mr.
Hardinge. Neb was at my bed-side before I was up, and reported the Grace
& Lucy safe alongside of the Wallingford, and expressed himself ready to
wait on me in my progress in quest of a ship. As this was the moment of
action, little was said, but we all breakfasted, and sallied forth, in
good earnest, on the important business before us. Neb was permitted
to follow, but at such a distance as to prevent his being suspected of
belonging to our party--a gentleman, with a serving-man at his heels,
not being the candidate most likely to succeed in his application for a
berth in the forecastle.

So eager was I to belong to some sea-going craft, that I would not stop
even to look at the wonders of the town, before we took the direction
of the wharves. Rupert was for pursuing a different policy, having an
inherent love of the genteeler gaieties of a town, but I turned a deaf
ear to his hints, and this time I was master. He followed me with some
reluctance, but follow he did, after some remonstrances that bordered
on warmth. Any inexperienced eye that had seen us passing, would have
mistaken us for two well-looking, smart young sailor-boys, who had
just returned from a profitable voyage, and who, well-clad, tidy and
semi-genteel, were strolling along the wharves as _admirateurs_, not to
say critics, of the craft. _Admirateurs_ we were, certainly, or _I_ was,
at least; though knowledge was a point on which we Were sadly deficient.

The trade of America was surprisingly active in 1797. It had been preyed
upon by the two great belligerents of the period, England and France,
it is true; and certain proceedings of the latter nation were about to
bring the relations of the two countries into a very embarrassed state;
but still the shipping interest was wonderfully active, and, as a whole,
singularly successful. Almost every tide brought in or took out ships
for foreign ports, and scarce a week passed that vessels did not arrive
from, or sail for, all the different quarters of the world. An Indiaman,
however, was our object; the voyage being longer, the ships better, and
the achievement greater, than merely to cross the Atlantic and return.
We accordingly proceeded towards the Fly Market, in the vicinity of
which, we had been given to understand, some three or four vessels of
that description were fitting out. This market has since used its wings
to disappear, altogether.

I kept my eyes on every ship we passed. Until the previous day, I had
never seen a square-rigged vessel; and no enthusiast in the arts ever
gloated on a fine picture or statue with greater avidity than my soul
drank in the wonder and beauty of every ship I passed. I had a large,
full-rigged model at Clawbonny; and this I had studied under my father
so thoroughly, as to know the name of every rope in it, and to have some
pretty distinct notions of their uses. This early schooling was now
of great use to me, though I found it a little difficult, at first,
to trace my old acquaintances on the large scale in which they now
presented themselves, and amid the intricate mazes that were drawn
against the skies. The braces, shrouds, stays and halyards, were all
plain enough, and I could point to either, at a moment's notice; but
when it came to the rest of the running rigging, I found it necessary to
look a little, before I could speak with certainty.

Eager as I was to ship, the indulgence of gazing at all I saw was so
attractive, that it was noon before we reached an Indiaman. This was a
pretty little ship of about four hundred tons, that was called the John.
Little I say, for such she would now be thought, though a vessel of her
size was then termed large. The Manhattan, much the largest ship out of
the port, measured but about seven hundred tons; while few even of
the Indiamen went much beyond five hundred. I can see the John at this
moment, near fifty years after I first laid eyes on her, as she then
appeared. She was not bright-sided, but had a narrow, cream-coloured
streak, broken into ports. She was a straight, black-looking craft,
with a handsome billet, low, thin bulwarks, and waistcloths secured
to ridge-ropes. Her larger spars were painted the same colour as her
streak, and her stern had a few ornaments of a similar tint.

We went on board the John, where we found the officers just topping off
with the riggers and stevedores, having stowed all the provisions and
water, and the mere trifle of cargo she carried. The mate, whose name
was Marble, and a well-veined bit of marble he was, his face resembling
a map that had more rivers drawn on it than the land could feed, winked
at the captain and nodded his head towards us as soon as we met his eye.
The latter smiled, but did not speak.

“Walk this way, gentlemen--walk this way, if you please,” said Mr.
Marble, encouragingly, passing a ball of spun-yarn, all the while, to
help a rigger serve a rope. “When did you leave the country?”

This produced a general laugh, even the yellow rascal of a mulatto, who
was passing into the cabin with some crockery, grinning in our faces
at this salutation. I saw it was now or never, and determined not to be
brow-beaten, while I was too truthful to attempt to pass for that I was
not.

“We left home last night, thinking to be in time to find berths in one
of the Indiamen that is to sail this week.”

“Not _this_ week, my son--not till _next_,” said Mr. Marble, jocularly.
“Sunday is _the_ day. We run from Sunday to Sunday--the better day, the
better deed, you know. How did you leave father and mother?”

“I have neither,” I answered, almost choked. “My mother died a few
months since, and my father, Captain Wallingford, has now been dead some
years.”

The master of the John was a man of about fifty, red-faced,
hard-looking, pock-marked, square-rigged, and of an exterior that
promised anything but sentiment. Feeling, however, he did manifest,
the moment I mentioned my father's name. He ceased his employment, came
close to me, gazed earnestly in my face, and even looked kind.

“Are you a son of Captain Miles Wallingford?” he asked in a low
voice--“of Miles Wallingford, from up the river?”

“I am, sir; his only son. He left but two of us, a son and a daughter;
and, though under no necessity to work at all, I wish to make this Miles
Wallingford as good a seaman as the last, and, I hope, as honest a man.”

This was said manfully, and with a spirit that must have pleased; for
I was shaken cordially by the hand, welcomed on board, invited into the
cabin, and asked to take a seat at a table on which the dinner had
just been placed. Rupert, of course, shared in all these favours. Then
followed the explanations. Captain Robbins, of the John, had first gone
to sea with my father, for whom I believe he entertained a profound
respect. He had even served with him once as mate, and talked as if he
felt that he had been under obligations to him. He did not question
me very closely, seeming to think it natural enough that Miles
Wallingford's only son should wish to be a seaman.

As we sat at the table, even, it was agreed that Rupert and I should
join the ship, as green hands, the very next morning, signing the
articles as soon as we went on shore. This was done accordingly, and I
had the felicity of writing Miles Wallingford to the roll d'equipage, to
the tune of eighteen dollars per month--seamen then actually receiving
thirty and thirty-five dollars per month--wages. Rupert was taken also,
though Captain Robbins cut _him_ down to thirteen dollars, saying, in
a jesting way, that a parson's son could hardly be worth as much as the
son of one of the best old ship-masters who ever sailed out of America.
He was a shrewd observer of men and things, this new friend of mine, and
I believe understood “by the cut of his jib” that Rupert was not likely
to make a weather-earing man. The money, however, was not of much
account in our calculations; and lucky enough did I think myself in
finding so good a berth, almost as soon as looked for. We returned to
the tavern and staid that night, taking a formal leave of Neb, who was
to carry the good news home, as soon as the sloop should sail.

In the morning a cart was loaded with our effects, the bill was
discharged, and we left the tavern. I had the precaution not to go
directly alongside the ship. On the contrary, we proceeded to an
opposite part of the town, placing the bags on a wharf resorted to by
craft from New Jersey, as if we intended to go on board one of them. The
cartman took his quarter, and drove off, troubling himself very little
about the future movements of two young sailors. Waiting half an hour,
another cart was called, when we went to the John, and were immediately
installed in her forecastle. Captain Robbins had provided us both with
chests, paid for out of the three months' advance, and in them we found
the slops necessary for so long a voyage. Rupert and I immediately put
on suits of these new clothes, with regular little round tarpaulins,
which so much altered us in appearance, even from those produced by our
Ulster county fittings, that we scarce knew each other.

Rupert now went on deck to lounge and smoke a segar, while I went aloft,
visiting every yard, and touching all three of the trucks, before I
returned from this, my exploring expedition. The captain and mates and
riggers smiled at my movements, and I overheard the former telling his
mate that I was “old Miles over again.” In a word, all parties seemed
pleased with the arrangement that had been made; I had told the officers
aft of my knowledge of the names and uses of most of the ropes; and
never did I feel so proud as when Mr. Marble called out, in a loud
tone--

“D'ye hear there, Miles--away aloft and unreeve them fore-top-gallant
halyards, and send an end down to haul up this new rope, to reeve a
fresh set.”

Away I went, my head buzzing with the complicated order, and yet I had
a very tolerable notion of what was to be done. The unreeving might
have been achieved by any one, and I got through with that without
difficulty; and, the mate himself helping me and directing me from the
deck, the new rope was rove with distinguished success. This was the
first duty I ever did in a ship, and I was prouder of it than of any
that was subsequently performed by the same individual. The whole time
I was thus occupied, Rupert stood lounging against the foot of the
main-stay, smoking his segar like a burgomaster. His turn came next,
however, the captain sending for him to the cabin, where he set him at
work to copy some papers. Rupert wrote a beautiful hand, and he wrote
rapidly. That evening I heard the chief-mate tell the dickey that the
parson's son was likely to turn out a regular “barber's clerk” to the
captain. “The old man,” he added, “makes so many traverses himself on a
bit of paper, that he hardly knows at which end to begin to read it; and
I shouldn't wonder if he just stationed this chap, with a quill behind
his ear, for the v'y'ge.”

For the next two or three days I was delightfully busy, passing half the
time aloft. All the sails were to be bent, and I had my full share in
the performance of this duty. I actually furled the mizen-royal with my
own hands--the ship carrying standing royals--and it was said to be very
respectably done; a little rag-baggish in the bunt, perhaps, but secured
in a way that took the next fellow who touched the gasket five minutes
to cast the sail loose. Then it rained, and sails were to be loosened to
dry. I let everything fall forward with my own hands, and, when we came
to roll up the canvass again, I actually managed all three of the royals
alone; one at a time, of course. My father had taught me to make a
flat-knot, a bowline, a clove-hitch, two half-hitches, and such sort of
things; and I got through with both a long and a short splice tolerably
well. I found all this, and the knowledge I had gained from my
model-ship at home of great use to me; so much so, indeed, as to induce
even that indurated bit of mortality, Marble, to say I “was the ripest
piece of green stuff he had ever fallen in with.”

All this time, Rupert was kept at quill-driving. Once he got leave to
quit the ship--it was the day before we sailed--and I observed he went
ashore in his long-togs, of which each of us had one suit. I stole away
the same afternoon to find the post-office, and worked up-stream as far
as Broadway, not knowing exactly which way to shape my course. In that
day, everybody who was anybody, and unmarried, promenaded the west side
of this street, from the Battery to St. Paul's Church, between the hours
of twelve and half-past two, wind and weather permitting. There I
saw Rupert, in his country guise, nothing remarkable, of a certainty,
strutting about with the best of them, and looking handsome in spite of
his rusticity. It was getting late, and he left the street just as I saw
him. I followed, waiting until we got to a private place before I would
speak to him, however, as I knew he would be mortified to be taken for
the friend of a Jack-tar, in such a scene.

Rupert entered a door, and then reappeared with a letter in his hand.
He, too, had gone to the post-office, and I no longer hesitated about
joining him.

“Is it from Clawbonny?” I asked, eagerly. “If so, from Lucy, doubtless?”

“From Clawbonny--but from Grace,” he answered, with a slight change of
colour. “I desired the poor girl to let me know how things passed off,
after we left them; and as for Lucy, her pot-hooks are so much out of
the way, I never want to see them.”

I felt hurt, offended, that my sister should write to any youngster but
myself. It is true, the letter was to a bosom friend, a co-adventurer,
one almost a child of the same family; and I had come to the office
expecting to get a letter from Rupert's sister, who had promised, while
weeping on the wharf, to do exactly the same thing for me; but there
_is_ a difference between one's sister writing to another young man, and
another young man's sister writing to oneself. I cannot even now explain
it; but that there _is_ a difference I am sure. Without asking to see a
line that Grace had written, I went into the office, and returned in a
minute or two, with an air of injured dignity, holding Lucy's epistle in
my hand.

After all, there was nothing in either letter to excite much
sensibility. Each was written with the simplicity, truth and feeling of
a generous-minded, warm-hearted female friend, of an age not to distrust
her own motives, to a lad who bad no right to view the favour other than
it was, as an evidence of early and intimate friendship. Both epistles
are now before me, and I copy them, as the shortest way of letting the
reader know the effect our disappearance had produced at Clawbonny. That
of Grace was couched in the following terms:


DEAR RUPERT:

Clawbonny was in commotion at nine o'clock this morning, and well it
might be! When your father's anxiety got to be painful, I told him the
whole, and gave him the letters. I am sorry to say, he wept. I wish
never to see such a sight again. The tears of two such silly girls as
Lucy and I, are of little account--but, Rupert, to behold an aged man
we love and respect like him, a minister of the gospel too, in tears! It
was a hard sight to bear. He did not reproach us for our silence, saying
he did not see, after our promises, how we could well do otherwise. I
gave your reasons about “responsibility in the premises;” but I don't
think he understood them. Is it too late to return? The boat that
carried you down can bring you back; and oh! how much rejoiced shall
we all be to see you! Wherever you go, and whatever you do, boys, for I
write as much to one as to the other, and only address to Rupert because
he so earnestly desired it; but wherever you go, and whatever you do,
remember the instructions you have both received in youth, and how much
all of us are interested in your conduct and happiness.

Affectionately, yours,

GRACE WALLINGFORD.

To Mr. Rupert Hardinge.


Lucy had been less guarded, and possibly a little more honest. She wrote
as follows:


DEAR MILES:

I believe I cried for one whole hour after you and Rupert left us, and,
now it is all over, I am vexed at having cried so much about two such
foolish fellows. Grace has told you all about my dear, dear father, who
cried too. I declare, I don't know when I was so frightened! I thought
it _must_ bring you back, as soon as you hear of it. What will be done,
I do not know; but _something_, I am certain Whenever father is in
earnest, he says but little. I know he is in earnest _now_. I believe
Grace and I do nothing but think of you; that is, she of _you_, and I
of Rupert; and a little the other way, too--so now you have the whole
truth. Do not fail, on any account, to write before you go to sea, if
you _do_ go to sea, as I hope and trust you will not.

Good-bye.


LUCY HARDINGE.

To Mr. Miles Wallingford.

P.S. Neb's mother protests, if the boy is not home by Saturday night,
she will go after him. No such disgrace as a runaway ever befel her or
hers, and she says she will not submit to it. But I suppose we shall see
_him_ soon, and with him _letters_.


Now, Neb had taken his leave, but no letter had been trusted to his
care. As often happens, I regretted the mistake when it was too late;
and all that day I thought how disappointed Lucy would be, when she came
to see the negro empty-handed. Rupert and I parted in the street, as he
did not wish to walk with a sailor, while in his own long-togs. He did
not _say_ as much; but I knew him well enough to ascertain it, without
his speaking. I was walking very fast in the direction of the ship,
and had actually reached the wharves, when, in turning a corner, I
came plump upon Mr. Hardinge. My guardian was walking slowly, his face
sorrowful and dejected, and his eyes fastened on every ship he passed,
as if looking for his boys. He saw me, casting a vacant glance over
my person; but I was so much changed by dress, and particularly by the
little tarpaulin, that he did not know me. Anxiety immediately drew his
look towards the vessels, and I passed him unobserved. Mr. Hardinge
was walking _from_, and I _towards_ the John, and of course all my risk
terminated as soon as out of sight.

That evening I had the happiness of being under-way, in a real
full-rigged ship. It is true, it was under very short canvass, and
merely to go into the stream. Taking advantage of a favourable wind and
tide, the John left the wharf under her jib, main-top-mast staysail, and
spanker, and dropped down as low as the Battery, when she sheered into
the other channel and anchored. Here I was, then, fairly at anchor in
the stream, Half a mile from any land but the bottom, and burning to see
the ocean. That afternoon the crew came on board, a motley collection,
of lately drunken seamen, of whom about half were Americans, and the
rest natives of as many different countries as there were men. Mr.
Marble scanned them with a knowing look, and, to my surprise, he told
the captain there was good stuff among them. It seems he was a better
judge than I was myself, for a more unpromising set of wretches, as to
looks, I never saw grouped together. A few, it is true, appeared well
enough; but most of them had the air of having been dragged through--a
place I will not name, though it is that which sailors usually quote
when describing themselves on such occasions. But Jack, after he has
been a week at sea, and Jack coming on board to duty, after a month of
excesses on shore, are very different creatures, morally and physically.

I now began to regret that I had not seen a little of the town. In 1797,
New York could not have had more than fifty thousand inhabitants,
though it was just as much of a paragon then, in the eyes of all good
Americans, as it is today. It is a sound patriotic rule to maintain that
_our_ best is always _the_ best, for it never puts us in the wrong. I
have seen enough of the world since to understand that we get a great
many things wrong-end foremost, in this country of ours; undervaluing
those advantages and excellencies of which we have great reason to be
proud, and boasting of others that, to say the least, are exceedingly
equivocal. But it takes time to learn all this, and I have no intention
of getting ahead of my story, or of my country; the last being a most
suicidal act.

We received the crew of a Saturday afternoon, and half of them turned in
immediately. Rupert and I had a good berth, intending to turn in and out
together, during the voyage; and this made us rather indifferent to
the movements of the rest of our extraordinary associates. The kid, at
supper, annoyed us both a little; the notion of seeing one's food in
a round _trough_, to be tumbled over and cut from by all hands, being
particularly disagreeable to those who have been accustomed to plates,
knives and forks, and such other superfluities. I confess I thought of
Grace's and Lucy's little white hands, and of silver sugrar-toogs, and
of clean plates and glasses, and table-cloths--napkins and silver forks
were then unknown in America, except on the very best tables, and not
always on them, unless on high days and holidays--as we were going
through the unsophisticated manipulations of this first supper.
Forty-seven years have elapsed, and the whole scene is as vivid to my
mind at this moment, as if it occurred last night. I wished myself one
of the long-snouted tribe, several times, in order to be in what is
called “keeping.”

I had the honour of keeping an anchor-watch in company with a grum old
Swede, as we lay in the Hudson. The wind was light, and the ship had a
good berth, so my associate chose a soft plank, told me to give him a
call should anything happen, and lay down to sleep away his two hours in
comfort. Not so with me. I strutted the deck with as much importance as
if the weight of the State lay on my shoulders--paid a visit every five
minutes to the bows, to see that the cable had not parted, and that the
anchor did not “come home”--and then looked aloft, to ascertain that
everything was in its place. Those were a happy two hours!

About ten next morning, being Sunday, and, as Mr. Marble expressed it,
“the better day, the better deed,” the pilot came off, and all hands
were called to “up anchor.” The cook, cabin-boy, Rupert and I, were
entrusted with the duty of “fleeting jig” and breaking down the coils of
the cable, the handspikes requiring heavier hands than ours. The anchor
was got in without any difficulty, however, when Rupert and I were
sent aloft to loose the fore-top-sail. Rupert got into the top via the
lubber's hole, I am sorry to say, and the loosing of the sail on both
yard-arms fell to my duty. A hand was on the fore-yard, and I was next
ordered up to loose the top-gallant-sail. Canvass began to fall and open
all over the ship, the top-sails were mast-headed, and, as I looked down
from the fore-top-mast cross-trees, where I remained to overhaul the
clew-lines, I saw that the ship was falling off, and that her sails
were filling with a stiff north-west breeze. Just as my whole being was
entranced with the rapture of being under-way for Canton, which was then
called the Indies, Rupert called out to me from the top. Ha was pointing
at some object on the water, and, turning, I saw a boat within a hundred
feet of the ship. In her was Mr. Hardinge, who at that moment caught
sight of us. But the ship's sails were now all full, and no one on deck
saw, or at least heeded, the boat. The John glided past it, and, the
last I saw of my venerated guardian, he was standing erect, bare-headed,
holding both arms extended, as if entreating us not to desert him!
Presently the ship fell off so much, that the after-sails hid him from
my view.

I descended into the top, where I found Rupert had shrunk down out of
sight, looking frightened and guilty. As for myself, I got behind the
head of the mast, and fairly sobbed. This lasted a few minutes, when an
order from the mate called us both below. When I reached the deck, the
boat was already a long distance astern, and had evidently given up the
idea of boarding us. I do not know whether I felt the most relieved or
pained by the certainty of this fact.



CHAPTER IV.

  “There is a tide in the affairs of men,
  Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune
  Omitted, all the voyage of their life
  Is bound in shallows, and in miseries.
  On such a full sea are we now afloat;
  And we must take the current when it serves,
  Or lose our ventures.”
   Brutus--Julius Caesar.


In four hours from the time when Rupert and I last saw Mr. Hardinge, the
ship was at sea. She crossed the bar, and started on her long journey,
with a fresh north-wester, and with everything packed on that she would
bear. We took a diagonal course out of the bight formed by the coasts of
Long Island and New Jersey, and sunk the land entirely by the middle
of the afternoon. I watched the highlands of Navesink, as they vanished
like watery clouds in the west, and then I felt I was at last fairly
out of sight of land. But a foremast hand has little opportunity for
indulging in sentimen, as he quits his native shore; and few, I fancy,
have the disposition. As regards the opportunity, anchors are to be got
in off the bows, and stowed; cables are to be unbent and coiled down;
studding-gear is to be hauled out and got ready; frequently boom-irons
are to be placed upon the yards, and the hundred preparations made, that
render the work of a ship as ceaseless a round of activity as that of a
house. This kept us all busy until night, when the watches were told off
and set. I was in the larboard, or chief-mate's watch, having actually
been chosen by that hard-featured old seaman, the fourth man he named;
an honour for which I was indebted to the activity I had already
manifested aloft. Rupert was less distinguished, being taken by the
captain for the second-mate's watch, the very last person chosen. That
night Mr. Marble dropped a few hints on the subject, which let me into
the secret of these two selections. “You and I will get along well
together, I see that plainly, Miles,” he said, “for there's quicksilver
in your body. As for your friend in t'other watch, it's all as it should
be; the captain has got one hand the most, and such as he is, he is
welcome to him. He'll blacken more writing paper this v'y'ge, I reckon,
than he'll tar down riggin'.” I thought it odd, however, that Rupert,
who had been so forward in all the preliminaries of our adventure,
should fall so far astern in its first practical results.

It is not my intention to dwell on all the minute incidents of this, my
first voyage to sea, else would it spin out the narrative unnecessarily,
and render my task as fatiguing to the reader, as it might prove to
myself. One occurrence, however, which took place three days out,
must be mentioned, as it will prove to be connected with important
circumstances in the end. The ship was now in order, and was at least
two hundred leagues from the land, having had a famous run off the
coast, when the voice of the cook, who had gone below for water, was
heard down among the casks, in such a clamour as none but a black can
raise, with all his loquacity awakened.

“There's _two_ niggers at that work!” exclaimed Mr. Marble, after
listening an instant, glancing his eye round to make certain the mulatto
steward was not in the discussion. “No _one_ darkey ever could make all
that outcry. Bear a hand below, Miles, and see if Africa has come aboard
us in the night.”

I was in the act of obeying, when Cato, the cook, was seen rising
through the steerage-hatch, dragging after him the dark poll of another
black, whom he had gripped by the wool. In an instant both were on
deck, when, to my astonishment, I discovered the agitated countenance of
Nebuchadnezzar Clawbonny. Of course the secret was out, the instant the
lad's glistening features were recognised.

Neb, in a word, had managed to get on board the ship before she hauled
out into the stream, and lay concealed among the water-casks, his
pockets crammed with ginger-bread and apples, until discovered by the
cook, in one of his journeys in quest of water. The food of the lad had
been gone twenty-four hours, and it is not probable the fellow could
have remained concealed much longer, had not this discovery taken place.
The instant he was on deck, Neb looked eagerly around to ascertain how
far the ship had got from the land, and, seeing nothing but water on
every side of him, he fairly grinned with delight. This exasperated Mr.
Marble, who thought it was adding insult to injury, and he gave the lad
a cuff on the ear that would have set a white reeling. On Neb, however,
this sharp blow produced no effect, falling as it did on the impregnable
part of his system.

“Oh! you're a nigger, be you?” exclaimed the mate, waxing warmer
and warmer, as he: fancied himself baffled by the other's powers of
endurance. “Take that, and let us see if you're full-blooded!”

A smart rap on the shin accompanying these words, Neb gave in on the
instant. He begged for mercy, and professed a readiness to tell all,
protesting he was not “a runaway nigger”--a term the mate used while
applying the kicks.

I now interfered, by telling Mr. Marble, with all the respect due from
a green hand to a chief-mate, who Neb really was, and what I supposed to
be his motives for following me to the ship. This revelation cost me a
good deal in the end, the idea of Jack's having a “waiting-man” on board
giving rise to a great many jokes at my expense, during the rest of the
voyage. Had I not been so active, and so _willing,_ a great source of
favour on board a ship, it is probable these jokes would have been much
broader and more frequent. As it was, they annoyed me a good deal;
and it required a strong exercise of all the boyish regard I really
entertained for Neb, to refrain from turning-to and giving him a sound
threshing for his exploit, at the first good occasion. And yet, what was
his delinquency compared to my own? He had followed his master out of
deep affection, blended somewhat, it is true, with a love of adventure;
while, in one sense, I had violated all the ties of the heart, merely to
indulge the latter passion.

The captain coming on deck, Neb's story was told, and, finding that no
wages would be asked in behalf of this athletic, healthy, young negro,
he had no difficulty in receiving him into favour. To Neb's great
delight, he was sent forward to take his share on the yards and in the
rigging, there being no vacancy for him to fill about the camboose, or
in the cabin. In an hour the negro was fed, and he was regularly placed
in the starboard-watch. I was rejoiced at this last arrangement, as
it put the fellow in a watch different from my own, and prevented his
officious efforts to do my work. Rupert, I discovered, however, profited
often by his zeal, employing the willing black on every possible
occasion. On questioning Neb, I ascertained that he had taken the boat
round to the Wallingford, and had made use of a dollar or two I had
given him at parting, to board in a house suitable to his colour, until
the ship was ready for sea, when he got on board, and stowed himself
among the water-casks, as mentioned.

Neb's apparition soon ceased to be a subject of discourse, and his
zeal quickly made him a general favourite. Hardy, strong, resolute, and
accustomed to labour, he was early of great use in all the heavy drags;
and aloft, even, though less quick than a white would have been, he got
to be serviceable and reasonably expert. My own progress--and I say
it without vanity, but simply because it was true--was the subject of
general remark. One week made me familiar with the running gear; and, by
that time, I could tell a rope by its size, the manner in which it led,
and the place where it was belayed, in the darkest night, as well as the
oldest seaman on board. It is true, my model-ship had prepared the way
for much of this expertness; but, free from all seasickness, of which I
never had a moment in my life, I set about learning these things in
good earnest, and was fully rewarded for my pains. I passed the
weather-earing of the mizen-top-sail when we had been out a fortnight,
and went to those of the fore and main before we crossed the line. The
mate put me forward on all occasions, giving me much instruction in
private; and the captain neglected no opportunity of giving me useful
hints, or practical ideas. I asked, and was allowed to take my regular
trick at the wheel, before we got into the latitude of St. Helena; and
from that time did my full share of seaman's duly on board, the nicer
work of knotting, splicing, &c., excepted. These last required a little
more time; but I am satisfied that, in all things but judgment, a clever
lad, who has a taste for the business, can make himself a very useful
and respectable mariner in six months of active service.

China voyages seldom produce much incident. If the moment of sailing
has been judiciously timed, the ship has fair winds much of the way,
and generally moderate weather. To be sure, there are points on the long
road that usually give one a taste of what the seas sometimes are; but,
on the whole, a Canton voyage, though a long one, cannot be called a
rough one. As a matter of course, we had gales, and squalls, and the
usual vicissitudes of the ocean, to contend with, though our voyage to
Canton might have been called quiet, rather than the reverse. We were
four months under our canvass, and, when we anchored in the river,
the clewing up of our sails, and getting from beneath their shadows,
resembled the rising of a curtain on some novel scenic representation.
John Chinaman, however, has been so often described, particularly of
late, that I shall not dwell on his peculiarities. Sailors, as a class,
are very philosophical, so far as the peculiarities and habits of
strangers are concerned, appearing to think it beneath the dignity of
those who visit all lands, to betray wonder at the novelties of any.
It so happened that no man on board the John, the officers, steward
and cook excepted, had ever doubled the Cape of Good Hope before this
voyage; and yet our crew regarded the shorn polls, slanting eyes, long
queues, clumsy dresses, high cheek-bones, and lumbering shoes, of the
people they now saw for the first time, with just as much indifference
as they would have encountered a new fashion at home. Most of them,
indeed, had seen, or fancied they had seen, much stranger sights in the
different countries they had visited; it being a standing rule,
with Jack to compress everything that is wonderful into the “last
voyage”--that in which he is engaged for the present time being usually
set down as common-place, and unworthy of particular comment. On this
principle, _my_ Canton excursion _ought_ to be full of marvels, as it
was the progenitor of all that I subsequently saw and experienced as a
sailor. Truth compels me to confess, notwithstanding, that it was one
of the least wonderful of all the voyages I ever made, until near its
close.

We lay some months in the river, getting cargo, receiving teas, nankins,
silks and other articles, as our supercargo could lay hands on them.
In all this time, we saw just as much of the Chinese as it is usual for
strangers to see, and not a jot more. I was much up at the factories,
with the captain, having charge of his boat; and, as for Rupert, he
passed most of his working-hours either busy with the supercargo ashore,
or writing in the cabin. I got a good insight, however, into the uses
of the serving-mallet, the fid, marlinspike and winch, and did something
with the needle and palm. Marble was very good to me, in spite of his
nor-west face, and never let slip an occasion to give a useful hint.
I believe my exertions on the outward-bound passage fully equalled
expectations, and the officers had a species of pride in helping to make
Captain Wallingford's son worthy of his honourable descent. I had taken
occasion to let it be known that Rupert's great-grandfather had been
a man-of-war captain; but the suggestion was met by a flat, refusal to
believe it from Mr. Kite, the second-mate, though Mr. Marble remarked
it _might_ be so, as I admitted that both his father and grandfather had
been, or were, in the Church. My friend seemed fated to achieve nothing
but the glory of a “barber's clerk.”

Our hatches were got on and battened down, and we sailed for home early
in the spring of 1798. The ship had a good run across the China Sea,
and reached the Indies in rather a short passage. We had cleared all
the islands, and were fairly in the Indian Ocean, when an adventure
occurred, which was the first really worthy of being related that we met
in the whole voyage. I shall give it, in as few words as possible.

We had cleared the Straits of Sunda early in the morning, and had made
a pretty fair run in the course of the day, though most of the time in
thick weather. Just as the sun set, however, the horizon became clear,
and we got a sight of two small sail seemingly heading in towards
the coast of Sumatra, proas by their rig and dimensions. They were so
distant, and were so evidently steering for the land, that no one gave
them much thought, or bestowed on them any particular attention. Proas
in that quarter were usually distrusted by ships, it is true; but the
sea is full of them, and far more are innocent than are guilty of any
acts of violence. Then it became dark soon after these craft were seen,
and night shut them in. An hour after the sun had set, the wind fell to
a light air, that just kept steerage-way on the ship. Fortunately, the
John was not only fast, but she minded her helm, as a light-footed girl
turns in a lively dance. I never was in a better-steering ship, most
especially in moderate weather.

Mr. Marble had the middle watch that night, and of course I was on deck
from midnight until four in the morning. It proved misty most of the
watch, and for quite an hour we had a light drizzling rain. The ship,
the whole time, was close-hauled, carrying royals. As everybody seemed
to have made up his mind to a quiet night, one without any reefing or
furling, most of the watch were sleeping about the decks, or wherever
they could get good quarters, and be least in the way. I do not know
what kept me awake, for lads of my age are apt to get all the sleep they
can; but I believe I was thinking of Clawbonny, and Grace, and Lucy; for
the latter, excellent girl as she was, often crossed my mind in those
days of youth and comparative innocence. Awake I was, and walking in
the weather-gangway, in a sailor's trot. Mr. Marble, he I do believe was
fairly snoozing on the hen-coops, being, like the sails, as one might
say, barely “asleep.” At that moment I heard a noise, one familiar to
seamen; that of an oar falling in a boat. So completely was my mind bent
on other and distant scenes, that at first I felt no surprise, as if we
were in a harbour surrounded by craft of various sizes, coming and going
at all hours. But a second thought destroyed this illusion, and I looked
eagerly about me. Directly on our weather-bow, distant perhaps a cable's
length, I saw a small sail, and I could distinguish it sufficiently well
to perceive it was a proa. I sang out “Sail ho! and close aboard!”

Mr. Marble was on his feet in an instant. He afterwards told me that
when he opened his eyes, for he admitted this much to me in confidence,
they fell directly on the stranger. He was too much of a seaman to
require a second look, in order to ascertain what was to be done. “Keep
the ship away--keep her broad off!” he called out to the man at the
wheel. “Lay the yards square--call all hands, one of you--Captain
Robbins, Mr. Kite, bear a hand up; the bloody proas are aboard us!” The
last part of this call was uttered in a loud voice, with the speaker's
head down the companion-way. It was heard plainly enough below, but
scarcely at all on deck.

In the mean time, everybody was in motion. It is amazing how soon
sailors are wide awake when there is really anything to do! It appeared
to me that all our people mustered on deck in less than a minute, most
of them with nothing on but their shirts and trowsers. The ship was
nearly before the wind, by the time I heard the captain's voice; and
then Mr. Kite came bustling in among us forward, ordering most of the
men to lay aft to the braces, remaining himself on the forecastle, and
keeping me with him to let go the sheets. On the forecastle, the strange
sail was no longer visible, being now abaft the beam; but I could hear
Mr. Marble swearing there were two of them, and that they must be the
very chaps we had seen to leeward, and standing in for the land, at
sunset. I also heard the captain calling out to the steward to bring him
a powder-horn. Immediately after, orders were given to let fly all our
sheets forward, and then I perceived that they were waring ship. Nothing
saved us but the prompt order of Mr. Marble to keep the ship away, by
which means, instead of moving towards the proas, we instantly began to
move from them. Although they went three feet to our two, this gave us a
moment of breathing time.

As our sheets were all flying forward, and remained so for a few
minutes, it gave me leisure to look about. I soon saw both proas, and
glad enough was I to perceive that they had not approached materially
nearer. Mr. Kite observed this also, and remarked that our movements had
been so prompt as “to take the rascals aback.” He meant, they did not
exactly know what we were at, and had not kept away with us.

At this instant, the captain and five or six of the oldest seamen began
to cast loose all our starboard, or weather guns, four in all, and
sixes. We had loaded these guns in the Straits of Banca, with grape and
canister, in readiness for just such pirates as were now coming down
upon us; and nothing was wanting but the priming and a hot logger-head.
It seems two of the last had been ordered in the fire, when we saw the
proas at sunset; and they were now in excellent condition for service,
live coals being kept around them all night by command. I saw a cluster
of men busy with the second gun from forward, and could distinguish the
captain pointing it.

“There cannot well be any mistake, Mr. Marble?” the captain observed,
hesitating whether to fire or not.

“Mistake, sir? Lord, Captain Robbins, you might cannonade any of the
islands astarn for a week, and never hurt an honest man. Let 'em have
it, sir; I'll answer for it, you do good.”

This settled the matter. The loggerhead was applied, and one of our
sixes spoke out in a smart report. A breathless stillness succeeded.
The proas did not alter their course, but neared us fast. The captain
levelled his night-glass, and I heard him tell Kite, in a low voice,
that they were full of men. The word was now passed to clear away all
the guns, and to open the arm-chest, to come at the muskets and pistols.
I heard the rattling of the boarding-pikes, too, as they were cut adrift
from the spanker-boom, and fell upon the deck. All this sounded very
ominous, and I began to think we should have a desperate engagement
first, and then have all our throats cut afterwards.

I expected now to hear the guns discharged in quick succession, but they
were got ready only, not fired. Kite went aft, and returned with three
or four muskets, and as many pikes. He gave the latter to those of the
people who had nothing to do with the guns. By this time the ship was on
a wind, steering a good full, while the two proas were just abeam, and
closing fast. The stillness that reigned on both sides was like that
of death. The proas, however, fell a little more astern; the result of
their own manoeuvring, out of all doubt, as they moved through the water
much faster than the ship, seeming desirous of dropping into our wake,
with a design of closing under our stern, and avoiding our broad-side.
As this would never do, and the wind freshened so as to give us four
or five knot way, a most fortunate circumstance for us, the captain
determined to tack while he had room. The John behaved beautifully,
and came round like a top. The proas saw there was no time to lose, and
attempted to close before we could fill again; and this they would have
done with ninety-nine ships in a hundred. The captain knew his vessel,
however, and did not let her lose her way, making everything draw again
as it might be by instinct. The proas tacked, too, and, laying up much
nearer to the wind than we did, appeared as if about to close on our
lee-bow. The question was, now, whether we could pass them or not before
they got near enough to grapple. If the pirates got on board us, we were
hopelessly gone; and everything depended on coolness and judgment. The
captain behaved perfectly well in this critical instant, commanding a
dead silence, and the closest attention to his orders.

I was too much interested at this moment to feel the concern that I
might otherwise have experienced. On the forecastle, it appeared to
us all that we should be boarded in a minute, for one of the proas was
actually within a hundred feet, though losing her advantage a little
by getting under the lee of our sails. Kite had ordered us to muster
forward of the rigging, to meet the expected leap with a discharge of
muskets, and then to present our pikes, when I felt an arm thrown around
my body, and was turned in-board, while another person assumed my place.
This was Neb, who had thus coolly thrust himself before me, in order
to meet the danger first. I felt vexed, even while touched with the
fellow's attachment and self-devotion, but had no time to betray either
feeling before the crews of the proas gave a yell, and discharged some
fifty or sixty matchlocks at us. The air was full of bullets, but they
all went over our heads. Not a soul on board the John was hurt. On our
side, we gave the gentlemen the four sixes, two at the nearest and two
at the sternmost proa, which was still near a cable's length distant. As
often happens, the one seemingly farthest from danger, fared the worst.
Our grape and canister had room to scatter, and I can at this distant
day still hear the shrieks that arose from that craft! They were
like the yells of fiends in anguish. The effect on that proa was
instantaneous; instead of keeping on after her consort, she wore short
round on her heel, and stood away in our wake, on the other tack,
apparently to get out of the range of our fire.

I doubt if we touched a man in the nearest proa. At any rate, no noise
proceeded from her, and she came up under our bows fast. As every gun
was discharged, and there was not time to load them, all now depended on
repelling the boarders. Part of our people mustered in the waist,
where it was expected the proa would fall alongside, and part on the
forecastle. Just as this distribution was made, the pirates cast their
grapnel. It was admirably thrown, but caught only by a ratlin. I saw
this, and was about to jump into the rigging to try what I could do to
clear it, when Neb again went ahead of me, and cut the ratlin with his
knife. This was just as the pirates had abandoned sails and oars, and
had risen to haul up alongside. So sudden was the release, that twenty
of them fell over by their own efforts. In this state the ship passed
ahead, all her canvass being full, leaving the proa motionless in her
wake. In passing, however, the two vessels were so near, that those aft
in the John distinctly saw the swarthy faces of their enemies.

We were no sooner clear of the proas than the order was given, “ready
about!” The helm was put down, and the ship came into the wind in a
minute. As we came square with the two proas, all our larboard guns were
given to them, and this ended the affair. I think the nearest of the
rascals got it this time, for away she went, after her consort, both
running off towards the islands. We made a little show of chasing, but
it was only a feint; for we were too glad to get away from them, to
be in earnest. In ten minutes after we tacked the last time, we ceased
firing, having thrown some eight or ten round-shot after the proas, and
were close-hauled again, heading to the south-west.

It is not to be supposed we went to sleep again immediately. Neb was
the only man on board who did, but he never missed an occasion to eat or
sleep. The captain praised us, and, as a matter of course in that day,
he called all hands to “splice the main-brace.” After this, the watch
was told to go below, as regularly as if nothing had happened. As for
the captain himself, he and Mr. Marble and Mr. Kite went prying about
the ship to ascertain if anything material had been cut by what
the chief-mate called “the bloody Indian matchlocks.” A little
running-rigging had suffered, and we had to reeve a few new ropes in the
morning; but this terminated the affair.

I need hardly say, all hands of us were exceedingly proud of our
exploit. Everybody was praised but Neb, who, being a “nigger,” was in
some way or other overlooked. I mentioned his courage and readiness to
Mr. Marble, but I could excite in no one else the same respect for the
poor fellow's conduct, that I certainly felt myself. I have since lived
long enough to know that as the gold of the rich attracts to itself the
gold of the poor, so do the deeds of the unknown go to swell the fame of
the known. This is as true of nations, and races, and families, as it is
of individuals; poor Neb belonging to a proscribed colour, it was not
in reason to suppose he could ever acquire exactly the same credit as a
white man.

“Them darkies do sometimes blunder on a lucky idee,” answered Mr. Marble
to one of my earnest representations, “and I've known chaps among 'em
that were almost as knowing as dullish whites; but everything out of the
common way with 'em is pretty much chance. As for Neb, however, I will
say this for him; that, for a nigger, he takes things quicker than any
of his colour I ever sailed with. Then he has no sa'ce, and that is a
good deal with a black. White sa'ce is bad enough; but that of a nigger
is unbearable.”

Alas! Neb. Born in slavery, accustomed to consider it arrogance to think
of receiving even his food until the meanest white had satisfied his
appetite, submissive, unrepining, laborious and obedient--the highest
eulogium that all these patient and unobtrusive qualities could obtain,
was a reluctant acknowledgment that he had “no sa'ce.” His quickness
and courage saved the John, nevertheless; and I have always said it, and
ever shall.

A day after the affair of the proas, all hands of us began to brag. Even
the captain was a little seized with this mania; and as for Marble,
he was taken so badly, that, had I not known he behaved well in the
emergency, I certainly should have set him down as a Bobadil. Rupert
manifested this feeling, too, though I heard he did his duty that night.
The result of all the talk was to convert the affair into a very heroic
exploit; and it subsequently figured in the journals as one of the deeds
that illustrate the American name.

From the time we were rid of the proas, the ship got along famously
until we were as far west as about 52°, when the wind came light from
the southward and westward, with thick weather. The captain had been
two or three times caught in here, and he took it into his head that the
currents would prove more favourable, could he stand in closer to the
coast of Madagascar than common. Accordingly, we brought the ship on
a bowline, and headed up well to the northward and westward. We were a
week on this tack, making from fifty to a hundred miles a day, expecting
hourly to see the land. At length we made it, enormously high
mountains, apparently a long distance from us, though, as we afterwards
ascertained, a long distance inland; and we continued to near it. The
captain had a theory of his own about the currents of this part of the
ocean, and, having set one of the peaks by compass, at the time the land
was seen, he soon convinced himself, and everybody else whom he tried to
persuade, Marble excepted, that we were setting to windward with visible
speed. Captain Robbins was a well-meaning, but somewhat dull man; and,
when dull men, become theorists, they usually make sad work with the
practice.

All that night we stood on to the northward and westward, though Mr.
Marble had ventured a remonstrance concerning a certain head-land that
was just visible, a little on our weather-bow. The captain snapped his
fingers at this, however; laying down a course of reasoning, which,
if it were worth anything, ought to have convinced the mate that the
weatherly set of the current would carry us ten leagues to the southward
and westward of that cape, before morning. On this assurance, we
prepared to pass a quiet and comfortable night.

I had the morning watch, and when I came on deck, at four, there was no
change in the weather. Mr. Marble soon appeared, and he walked into the
waist, where I was leaning on the weather-rail, and fell into discourse.
This he often did, sometimes so far forgetting the difference in
our stations _afloat_--not _ashore_; _there_ I had considerably the
advantage of him--as occasionally to call me “sir.” I always paid
for this inadvertency, however, it usually putting a stop to the
communications for the time being. In one instance, he took such prompt
revenge for this implied admission of equality, as literally to break
off short in the discourse, and to order me, in his sharpest key, to go
aloft and send some studding-sails on deck, though they all had to be
sent aloft again, and set, in the course of the same watch. But offended
dignity is seldom considerate, and not always consistent.

“A quiet night, Master Miles”--_this_ the mate _could_ call me, as
it implied superiority on his part--“A quiet night, Master Miles,”
 commenced Mr. Marble, “and a strong westerly current, accordin'
to Captain Robbins. Well, to my taste gooseberries are better than
currents, and _I'd_ go about. That's my manner of _generalizing_.”

“The captain, I suppose, sir, from that, is of a different opinion?”

“Why, yes, somewhatish,--though I don't think he knows himself exactly
what his own opinion is. This is the third v'y'ge I've sailed with the
old gentleman, and he is half his time in a fog or a current. Now, it's
his idee the ocean is full of Mississippi rivers, and if one could
only find the head of a stream, he might go round the world in it. More
particularly does he hold that there is no fear of the land when in a
current, as a stream never sets on shore. For my part, I never want any
better hand-lead than my nose.”

“Nose, Mr. Marble?”

“Yes, nose, Master Miles. Haven't you remarked how far we smelt the
Injees, as we went through the islands?”

“It is true, sir, the Spice Islands, and all land, they say--”

“What the devil's that?” asked the mate, evidently startled at something
he _heard_, though he appeared to _smell_ nothing, unless indeed it
might be a rat.

“It sounds like water washing on rocks, sir, as much as anything I ever
heard in my life!”

“Ready about!” shouted the mate. “Run down and call the captain,
Miles--hard a-lee--start everybody up, forward.”

A scene of confusion followed, in the midst of which the captain,
second-mate, and the watch below, appeared on deck. Captain Robbins took
command, of course, and was in time to haul the after-yards, the ship
coming round slowly in so light a wind. Come round she did, however,
and, when her head was fairly to the southward and eastward, the captain
demanded an explanation. Mr. Marble did not feel disposed to trust his
nose any longer, but he invited the captain to use his ears. This all
hands did, and, if sounds could be trusted, we had a pretty lot of
breakers seemingly all around us.

“We surely can go out the way we came in, Mr. Marble?” said the captain,
anxiously.

“Yes, sir, if there were no _current_; but one never knows where a
bloody current will carry him in the dark.”

“Stand by to let go the anchor!” cried the captain. “Let run and clew
up, forward and aft. Let go as soon as you're ready, Mr. Kite.”

Luckily, we had kept a cable bent as we came through the Straits, and,
not knowing but we might touch at the Isle of France, it was still bent,
with the anchor fished. We had talked of stowing the latter in-board,
but, having land in sight, it was not done. In two minutes it was
a-cock-bill, and, in two more, let go. None knew whether we should find
a bottom; but Kite soon sang out to “snub,” the anchor being down,
with only six fathoms out. The lead corroborated this, and we had the
comfortable assurance of being not only among breakers, but just near
the coast. The holding-ground, however, was reported good, and we went
to work and rolled up all our rags. In half an hour the ship was snug,
riding by the stream, with a strong current, or tide, setting exactly
north-east, or directly opposite to the captain's theory. As soon as
Mr. Marble had ascertained this fact, I overheard him grumbling about
something, of which I could distinctly understand nothing but the words
“Bloody cape--bloody current.”



CHAPTER V.

  “They hurried us aboard a bark;
  Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
  A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
  Nor tackle, sail, nor mast: the very rats
  Instinctively had girt us--”
   _Tempest._


The hour that succeeded in the calm of expectation, was one of the most
disquieting of my life. As soon as the ship was secured, and there no
longer remained anything to do, the stillness of death reigned among
us; the faculties of every man and boy appearing to be absorbed in the
single sense of hearing--the best, and indeed the only, means we then
possessed of judging of our situation. It was now apparent that we were
near some place or places where the surf was breaking on land; and
the hollow, not-to-be-mistaken bellowings of the element, too plainly
indicated that cavities in rocks frequently received, and as often
rejected, the washing waters. Nor did these portentous sounds come from
one quarter only, but they seemed to surround us; now reaching our
ears from the known direction of the land, now from the south, the
north-east, and, in fact, from every direction. There were instances
when these moanings of the ocean sounded as if close under our stern,
and then again they came from some point within a fearful proximity to
the bows.

Happily the wind was light, and the ship rode with a moderate strain
on the cable, so as to relieve us from the apprehension of immediate
destruction. There was a long, heavy ground-swell rolling in from, the
south-west, but, the lead giving us, eight fathoms, the sea did not
break exactly where we lay; though the sullen washing that came to our
ears, from time to time, gave unerring notice that it was doing so quite
near us, independently of the places where it broke upon rocks. At one
time the captain's impatience was so goading, that he had determined to
pull round the anchorage in a boat, in order to anticipate the approach
of light; but a suggestion from Mr. Marble that he might unconsciously
pull into a roller, and capsize, induced him to wait for day.

The dawn appeared at last, after two or three of the longest hours
I remember ever to have passed. Never shall I forget the species of
furious eagerness with which we gazed about us. In the first place, we
got an outline of the adjacent land; then, as light diffused itself more
and more into the atmosphere, we caught glimpses of its details. It was
soon certain we were within a cable's length of perpendicular cliffs
of several hundred feet in height, into whose caverns the sea poured at
times, producing those frightful, hollow moanings, that an experienced
ear can never mistake. This cliff extended for leagues in both
directions, rendering drowning nearly inevitable to the shipwrecked
mariner on that inhospitable coast. Ahead, astern, outside of us, and
I might almost say all around us, became visible, one after another,
detached ledges, breakers and ripples; so many proofs of the manner in
which Providence had guided us through the hours of darkness.

By the time the sun appeared, for, happily, the day proved bright
and clear, we had obtained pretty tolerable notions of the critical
situation in which we were placed by means of the captain's theory of
currents. The very cape that we were to drift past, lay some ten leagues
nearly dead to windward, as the breeze then was; while to leeward, far
as the eye could reach, stretched the same inhospitable, barrier of rock
as that which lay on our starboard quarter and beam. Such was my first
introduction to the island of Madagascar; a portion of the world, of
which, considering its position, magnitude and productions, the mariners
of Christendom probably know less than of any other. At the time of
which I am writing, far less had been learned of this vast country
than is known to-day, though the knowledge of even our own immediate
contemporaries is of an exceedingly limited character.

Now that the day had returned, the sun was shining on us cheerfully, and
the sea looked tranquil and assuring, the captain became more pacified.
He had discretion enough to understand that time and examination were
indispensable to moving the ship with safety; and he took the wise
course of ordering the people to get their breakfasts, before he set
us at work. The hour that was thus employed forward, was passed aft in
examining the appearance of the water, and the positions of the reefs
around the ship. By the time we were through, the captain had swallowed
his cup of coffee and eaten his biscuit; and, calling away four of the
most athletic oarsmen, he got into the jolly-boat, and set out on the
all-important duty of discovering a channel sea-ward. The lead was kept
moving, and I shall leave the party thus employed for an hour or more,
while we turn our attention in-board.

Marble beckoned me aft, as soon as Captain Robbins was in the boat,
apparently with a desire to say something in private. I understood the
meaning of his eye, and followed him down into the steerage, where all
that was left of the ship's water was now stowed, that on deck having
been already used. The mate had a certain consciousness about him that
induced great caution, and he would not open his lips until he had
rummaged about below some time, affecting to look for a set of blocks
that might be wanted for some purpose or other, on deck. When this
had lasted a little time, he turned short round to me, and let out the
secret of the whole manoeuvre.

“I'll tell you what, Master Miles,” he said, making a sign with a finger
to be cautious, “I look upon this ship's berth as worse than that of a
city scavenger. We've plenty of water all round us, and plenty of rocks,
too. If we knew the way back, there is no wind to carry us through it,
among these bloody currents, and there's no harm in getting ready for
the worst. So do you get Neb and the gentleman”--Rupert was generally
thus styled in the ship--“and clear away the launch first. Get
everything out of it that don't belong there; after which, do you put
these breakers in, and wait for further orders. Make no fuss, putting
all upon orders, and leave the rest to me.”

I complied, of course, and in a few minutes the launch was clear. While
busy, however, Mr. Kite came past, and desired to know “what are you at
there?” I told him 'twas Mr. Marble's orders, and the latter gave his
own explanation of the matter.

“The launch may be wanted,” he said, “for I've no notion that jolly-boat
will do to go out as far as we shall find it necessary to sound. So I am
about to ballast the launch, and get her sails ready; there's no use in
mincing matters in such a berth as this.”

Kite approved of the idea, and even went so far as to suggest that it
might be well enough to get the launch into the water at once, by way of
saving time. The proposition was too agreeable to be rejected, and, to
own the truth, all hands went to work to get up the tackles with a will,
as it is called. In half an hour the boat was floating alongside
the ship. Some said she would certainly be wanted to carry out the
stream-anchor, if for nothing else; others observed that half a dozen
boats would not be enough to find all the channel we wanted; while
Marble kept his eye, though always in an underhand way, on his main
object. The breakers we got in and stowed, filled with _fresh_ water, by
way of ballast. The masts were stepped, the oars were put on board,
and a spare compass was passed dawn, lest the ship might be lost in the
thick weather, of which there was so much, just in that quarter of the
world. All this wars said and done so quietly, that nobody took the
alarm; and when the mate called out, in a loud voice, “Miles, pass a
bread-bag filled and some cold grub into that launch--the men may be
hungry before they get back,” no one seemed to think more was meant than
was thus openly expressed. I had my private orders, however, and managed
to get quite a hundred-weight of good cabin biscuit into the launch,
while the cook was directed to fill his coppers with pork. I got some of
the latter _raw_ into the boat, too; _raw_ pork being food that sailors
in no manner disdain. They say it eats like chestnuts.

In the mean time, the captain was busy in his exploring expedition, on
the return from which he appeared to think he was better rewarded than
has certainly fallen to the lot of others employed on another expedition
which bears the same name. He was absent near two hours, and, when
he got back, it was to renew his theory of what Mr. Marble called his
“bloody currents.”

“I've got behind the curtain, Mr. Marble,” commenced Captain Robbins,
before he was fairly alongside of the ship again, whereupon Marble
muttered “ay! ay! you've got behind the rocks, too!” “It's all owing to
an eddy that is made in-shore by the main current, and we have stretched
a _leetle_ too far in.”

Even I thought to myself, what would have become of us had we stretched
a _leetle_ further in! The captain, however, seemed satisfied that he
could carry the ship out, and, as this was all we wanted, no one was
disposed to be very critical. A word was said about the launch, which
the mate had ordered to be dropped astern, out of the way, and the
explanation seemed to mystify the captain. In the meanwhile, the pork
was boiling furiously in the coppers.

All hands were now called to get the anchor up. Rupert and I went aloft
to loosen sails, and we staid there until the royals were mast-headed.
In a very few minutes the cable was up and down, and then came the
critical part of the whole affair. The wind was still very light, and
it was a question whether the ship could be carried past a reef of rocks
that now began to show itself above water, and on which the long, heavy
rollers, that came undulating from the south-western Atlantic, broke
with a sullen violence that betrayed how powerful was the ocean, even
in its moments of slumbering peacefulness. The rising and falling of its
surface was like that of some monster's chest, as he respired heavily in
sleep.

Even the captain hesitated about letting go his hold of the bottom, with
so strong a set of the water to leeward, and in so light a breeze.
There was a sort of bight on our starboard bow, however, and Mr. Marble
suggested it might be well to sound in that direction, as the water
appeared smooth and deep. To him it looked as if there were really an
eddy in-shore, which might hawse the ship up to windward six or eight
times her length, and thus more than meet the loss that must infallibly
occur in first casting her head to seaward. The captain admitted the
justice of this suggestion, and I was one of those who were told to go
in the jolly-boat on this occasion. We pulled in towards the cliffs, and
had not gone fifty yards before we struck an eddy, sure enough, which
was quite as strong as the current in which the ship lay. This was
a great advantage, and so much the more, because the water was of
sufficient depth, quite up to the edge of the reef which formed the
bight, and thus produced the change in the direction of the set.
There was plenty of room, too, to handle the ship in, and, all things
considered, the discovery was extremely fortunate. In the bottom of the
bight we should have gone ashore the previous night, had not our ears
been so much better than our noses.

As soon as certain of the facts, the captain pulled back to the ship,
and gladdened the hearts of all on board with the tidings. We now manned
the handspikes cheerily, and began to heave. I shall never forget the
impression made on me by the rapid drift of the ship, as soon as the
anchor was off the bottom, and her bows were cast in-shore, in order
to fill the sails. The land was so near that I noted this drift by the
rocks, and my heart was fairly in my mouth for a few seconds. But the
John worked beautifully, and soon gathered way. Her bows did not not
strike the eddy, however, until we got fearful evidence of the strength
of the true current, which had set us down nearly as low as the reef
outside, to windward of which it was indispensable for us to pass.
Marble saw all this, and he whispered me to tell the cook to pass the
pork into the launch at once--hot to mind whether it were particularly
well done, or not. I obeyed, and had to tend the fore-sheet myself, for
my pains, when the order was given to “ready about.”

The eddy proved a true friend, but it did not carry us up much higher
than the place where we had anchored, when it became necessary to
tack. This was done in season, on account of our ignorance of all the
soundings, and we had soon got the John's head off-shore again. Drawing
a short distance ahead, the main-top-sail was thrown aback, and the ship
allowed to drift. In proper time, it was filled, and we got round once
more, looking into the bight. The manoeuvre was repeated, and this
brought us up fairly under the lee of the reef, and just in the position
we desired to be. It was a nervous instant, I make no doubt, when
Captain Robbins determined to trust the ship in the true current, and
run the gauntlet of the rocks. The passage across which we had to steer,
before we could possibly weather the nearest reef was about a cable's
length in width, and the wind would barely let us lay high enough
to take it at right-angles. Then the air was so light, that I almost
despaired of our doing anything.

Captain Robbins put the ship into the current with great judgment. She
was kept a rap-full until near the edge of the eddy, and then her helm
was put nearly down, all at once. But for the current's acting, in one
direction, on her starboard bow, and the eddy's pressing, in the other,
on the larboard quarter, the vessel would have been taken aback; but
these counteracting forces brought her handsomely on her course again,
and that in a way to prevent her falling an inch to leeward.

Now came the trial. The ship was kept a rap-full, and she went steadily
across the passage, favoured, perhaps, by a little more breeze than had
blown most of the morning. Still, our leeward set was fearful, and, as
we approached the reef, I gave all up. Marble screwed his lips together,
and his eyes never turned from the weather-leeches of the sails.
Everybody appeared to me to be holding his breath, as the ship rose on
the long ground-swells, sending slowly ahead the whole time. We passed
the nearest point of the rocks on one of the rounded risings of the
water, just touching lightly as we glided by the visible danger. The
blow was light, and gave little cause for alarm. Captain Robbins now
caught Mr. Marble by the hand, and was in the very act of heartily
shaking it, when the ship came down very much in the manner that a man
unexpectedly lights on a stone, when he has no idea of having anything
within two or three yards of his feet. The blow was tremendous, throwing
half the crew down; at the same instant, all three of the topmasts went
to leeward.

One has some difficulty in giving a reader accurate notions of the
confusion of so awful a scene. The motion of the vessel was arrested
suddenly, as it might be by a wall, and the whole fabric seemed to be
shaken to dissolution. The very next roller that came in, which would
have undulated in towards the land but for us, meeting with so large a
body in its way, piled up and broke upon our decks, covering everything
with water. At the same time, the hull lifted, and, aided by wind, sea
and current, it set still further on the reef, thumping in a way
to break strong iron bolts, like so many sticks of sealing-wax, and
cracking the solid live-oak of the floor-timbers as if they were made of
willow. The captain stood aghast! For one moment despair was painfully
depicted in his countenance; then he recovered his self-possession and
seamanship. He gave the order to stand by to carry out to windward the
stream-anchor in the launch, and to send a kedge to haul out by, in the
jolly-boat. Marble answered with the usual “ay, ay, sir!” but before he
sent us into the boats, he ventured to suggest that the ship had bilged
already. He had heard timbers crack, about which he thought there could
be no mistake. The pumps were sounded, and the ship had seven feet water
in her hold. This had made in about ten minutes. Still the captain would
not give up. He ordered us to commence throwing the teas overboard, in
order to ascertain, if possible, the extent of the injury. A place was
broken out in the wake of the main-hatch, and a passage was opened
down into the lower-hold, where we met the water. In the mean time, a
South-Sea man we had picked up at Canton, dove down under the lee of the
bilge of the ship. He soon came back and reported that a piece of
sharp rock had gone quite through the planks. Everything tending to
corroborate this, the captain called a council of all hands on the
quarter-deck, to consult as to further measures.

A merchantman has no claim on the services of her crew after she is
hopelessly wrecked. The last have a lien in law, on the ship and cargo,
for their wages; and it is justly determined that when this security
fails, the claim for services ends. It followed, of course, that as soon
as the John was given over, we were all our own masters; and hence the
necessity for bringing even Neb into the consultation. With a vessel of
war it would have been different. In such a case, the United States
pays for the service, ship or no ship, wreck or no wreck; and the seaman
serves out his term of enlistment, be this longer or shorter. Military
discipline continues under all circumstances.

Captain Robbins could hardly speak when we gathered round him on the
forecastle, the seas breaking over the quarter-deck in a way to render
that sanctuary a very uncomfortable berth. As soon as he could command
himself, he told us that the ship was hopelessly lost. How it had
happened, he could not very well explain himself, though he ascribed
it to the fact that the currents did not run in the direction in which,
according to all sound reasoning, they ought to run. This part of the
speech was not perfectly lucid, though, as I understood our unfortunate
captain, the laws of nature, owing to some inexplicable influence, had
departed, in some way or other, from their ordinary workings, expressly
to wreck the John. If this were not the meaning of what he said, I did
not understand this part of the address.

The captain was much more explicit after he got out of the current. He
told us that the island of Bourbon was only about four hundred miles
from where we then were, and he thought it possible to go that distance,
find some small craft, and come back, and still save part of the cargo,
the sails, anchors, &c. &c. We might make such a trip of it as would
give us all a lift, in the way of salvage, that might prove some
compensation for our other losses. This sounded well, and it had at
least the effect to give us some present object for our exertions; it
also made the danger we all ran of losing our lives, less apparent. To
land on the island of Madagascar, in that day, was out of the question.
The people were then believed to be far less civilized than in truth
they were, and had a particularly bad character among mariners.
Nothing remained, therefore, but to rig the boats, and make immediate
dispositions for our departure.

Now it was that we found the advantage of the preparations already made.
Little remained to be done, and that which was done, was much better
done than if we had waited until the wreck was half full of water,
and the seas were combing in upon her. The captain took charge of the
launch, putting Mr. Marble, Rupert, Neb, myself and the cook, into the
jolly-boat, with orders to keep as close as possible to himself. Both
boats had sails, and both were so arranged as to row in calms, or
head-winds. We took in rather more than our share of provisions and
water, having two skillful caterers in the chief-mate and cook; and,
having obtained a compass, quadrant, and a chart, for our portion of
the indispensables, all hands were ready for a start, in about two hours
after the ship had struck.

It was just noon when we cast off from the wreck, and stood directly
off the land. According to our calculations, the wind enabled us to run,
with a clean full, on our true course. As the boats drew out into the
ocean, we had abundant opportunities of discovering how many dangers we
had escaped; and, for my own part, I felt deeply grateful, even then, as
I was going out upon the wide Atlantic in a mere shell of a boat, at the
mercy we had experienced. No sooner were we fairly in deep water, than
the captain and mate had a dialogue on the subject of the currents
again. Notwithstanding all the difficulties his old theory had brought
him into, the former remained of opinion that the true current set to
windward, and that we should so find it as soon as we got a little
into the offing; while the mate was frank enough to say he had been of
opinion, all along, that it ran the other way. The latter added that
Bourbon was rather a small spot to steer for, and it might be better to
get into its longitude, and then find it by meridian observations, than
to make any more speculations about matters of which we knew nothing.

The captain and Mr. Marble saw things differently, and we kept away
accordingly, when we ought to have luffed all we could. Fortunately the
weather continued moderate, or our little boat would have had a bad time
of it. We outsailed the launch with ease, and were forced to reef in
order not to part company. When the sun set, we were more than twenty
miles from the land, seeing no more of the coast, though the mountains
inland were still looming up grandly in the distance. I confess, when
night shut in upon us, and I found myself on the wide ocean, in a boat
much smaller than that with which I used to navigate the Hudson, running
every minute farther and farther into the watery waste, I began to think
of Clawbonny, and its security, and quiet nights, and well-spread board,
and comfortable beds in a way I had never thought of either before. As
for food, however, we were not stinted; Mr. Marble setting us an example
of using our teeth on the half boiled pork, that did credit to his
philosophy. To do this man justice, he seemed to think a run of four
hundred miles in a jolly-boat no great matter, but took everything as
regularly as if still on the deck of the John. Each of us got as good a
nap as our cramped situations would allow.

The wind freshened in the morning, and the sea began to break. This made
it necessary to keep still more away, to prevent filling at times, or
to haul close up, which might have done equally well. But the captain
preferred the latter course, on account of the current. We had ticklish
work of it, in the jolly-boat, more than once that day, and were
compelled to carry a whole sail in order to keep up with the launch,
which beat us, now the wind had increased. Marble was a terrible fellow
to carry on everything, ship or boat, and we kept our station admirably,
the two boats never getting a cable's length asunder, and running most
of the time within hail of each other. As night approached, however, a
consultation was held on the subject of keeping in company. We had now
been out thirty hours, and had made near a hundred and fifty miles, by
our calculation. Luckily the wind had got to be nearly west, and we were
running ahead famously, though it was as much as we could do to keep the
jolly-boat from filling. One hand was kept bailing most of the time, and
sometimes all four of us were busy. These matters were talked over, and
the captain proposed abandoning the jolly-boat altogether, and to take
us into the launch, though there was not much vacant space to receive
us. But the mate resisted this, answering that he thought he could
take care of our boat a while longer, at least. Accordingly, the old
arrangement was maintained, the party endeavouring to keep as near
together as possible.

About midnight it began to blow in squalls, and two or three times we
found it necessary to take in our sails, our oars, and pull the boat
head to sea, in order to prevent her swamping. The consequence was,
that we lost sight of the launch, and, though we always kept away to
our course as soon as the puffs would allow, when the sun rose we saw
nothing of our late companions. I have sometimes thought Mr. Marble
parted company on purpose, though he seemed much concerned next morning
when he had ascertained the launch was nowhere to be seen. After looking
about for an hour, and the wind moderating, we made sail close on the
wind; a direction that would soon have taken us away from the launch,
had the latter been close alongside when we first took it. We made good
progress all this day, and at evening, having now been out fifty-four
hours, we supposed ourselves to be rather more than half-way on the road
to our haven. It fell calm in the night, and the next morning we got the
wind right aft. This gave us a famous shove, for we sometimes made six
and seven knots in the hour. The fair wind lasted thirty hours, during
which time we must have made more than a hundred and fifty miles, it
falling nearly calm about an hour before dawn, on the morning of the
fourth day out. Everybody was anxious to see the horizon that morning,
and every eye was turned to the east, with intense expectation, as the
sun rose. It was in vain; there was not the least sign of land visible.
Marble looked sadly disappointed, but he endeavoured to cheer us up with
the hope of seeing the island shortly. We were then heading due east,
with a very light breeze from the north-west. I happened to stand up in
the boat, on a thwart, and, turning my face to the southward, I caught a
glimpse of something that seemed like a hummock of land in that quarter.
I saw it but for an instant; but, whatever it was, I saw it plain
enough. Mr. Marble now got on the thwart, and looked in vain to catch
the same object. He said there was no land in that quarter--could be
none--and resumed his seat to steer to the eastward, a little north. I
could not be easy, however, but remained on the thwart until the
boat lifted on a swell higher than common, and then I saw the brown,
hazy-looking spot on the margin of the ocean again. My protestations
now became so earnest, that Marble consented to stand for an hour in
the direction I pointed out to him. “One hour, boy, I will grant you,
to shut your mouth,” the mate said, taking out his watch, “and that you
need lay nothing to my door hereafter.” To make the most of this hour, I
got my companions at the oars, and we all pulled with hearty good-will.
So much importance did I attach to every fathom of distance made, that
we did not rise from our seats until the mate told us to stop rowing,
for the hour was up. As for himself, he had not risen either, but kept
looking behind him to the eastward, still hoping to see land somewhere
in that quarter.

My heart beat violently as I got upon the thwart, but there lay my hazy
object, now never dipping at all. I shouted “land ho!” Marble jumped
up on a thwart, too and no longer disputed my word. It was land, he
admitted, and it must be the island of Bourbon, which we had passed to
the northward, and must soon have given a hopelessly wide berth. We went
to the oars again with renewed life, and soon made the boat spin. All
that day we kept rowing, until about five in the afternoon, when we
found ourselves within a few leagues of the island of Bourbon, where
we were met by a fresh breeze from the southward, and were compelled to
make sail. The wind was dead on end, and we made stretches under the lee
of the island, going about as we found the sea getting to be too heavy
for us, as was invariably the case whenever we got too far east or west.
In a word, a lee was fast becoming necessary. By ten, we were within a
mile of the shore, but saw no place where we thought it safe to attempt
a landing in the dark; a long, heavy sea setting in round both sides of
the island, though the water did not break much where we remained. At
length the wind got to be so heavy, that we could not carry even our
sail double-reefed, and we kept two oars pulling lightly in, relieving
each other every hour. By daylight it blew tremendously, and glad enough
were we to find a little cove where it was possible to get ashore. I had
then never felt so grateful to Providence as I did when I got my feet on
_terra-firma_.

We remained on the island a week, hoping to see the launch and her crew;
but neither appeared. Then we got a passage to the Isle of France, on
arriving at which place we found the late gale was considered to have
been very serious. There was no American consul in the island, at
that time; and Mr. Marble, totally without credit or means, found it
impossible to obtain a craft of any sort to go to the wreck in. We were
without money, too, and, a homeward-bound Calcutta vessel coming in, we
joined her to work our passages home, Mr. Marble as dickey, and the rest
of us in the forecastle. This vessel was called the Tigris, and belonged
to Philadelphia. She was considered one of the best ships out of
America, and her master had a high reputation for seamanship and
activity. He was a little man of the name of Digges, and was under
thirty at the time I first knew him. He took us on board purely out of
a national feeling, for his ship was strong-handed without us, having
thirty-two souls, all told, when he received us five. We afterwards
learned that letters sent after the ship had induced Captain Digges to
get five additional hands in Calcutta, in order to be able to meet the
picaroons that were then beginning to plunder American vessels, even
on their own coast, under the pretence of their having violated certain
regulations made by the two great belligerents of the day, in Europe.
This was just the commencement of the _quasi_ war which broke out a few
weeks later with France.

Of all these hostile symptoms, however, I then knew little and cared
less. Even Mr. Marble had never heard of them and we five joined the
Tigris merely to get passages home, without entertaining second thoughts
of running any risk, further than the ordinary dangers of the seas.

The Tigris sailed the day we joined her, which was the third after we
reached Mauritius, and just fifteen days after we had left the wreck. We
went to sea with the wind at the southward, and had a good run off
the island, making more than a hundred miles that afternoon and in the
course of the night. Next morning, early, I had the watch, and an order
was given to set top-gallant studding-sails. Rupert and I had got into
the same watch on board this vessel, and we both went aloft to reeve the
gear. I had taken up the end of the halyards, and had reeved them, and
had overhauled the end down, when, in raising my head, I saw two small
lug-sails on the ocean, broad on our weather-bow, which I recognised in
an instant for those of the John's launch. I cannot express the feeling
that came over me at that sight. I yelled, rather than shouted, “Sail
ho!” and then, pushing in, I caught hold of a royal-backstay, and was on
deck in an instant. I believe I made frantic gestures to windward, for
Mr. Marble, who had the watch, had to shake me sharply before I could
let the fact be known.

As soon as Marble comprehended me, and got the bearings of the boat, he
hauled down all the studding-sails, braced sharp up on a wind, set the
mainsail, and then sent down a report to Captain Digges for orders. Our
new commander was a humane man, and having been told our whole story, he
did not hesitate about confirming all that had been done. As the people
in the launch had made out the ship some time before I saw the boat, the
latter was running down upon us, and, in about an hour, the tiny sails
were descried from the deck. In less than an hour after this, our
mainyard swung round, throwing the topsail aback, and the well-known
launch of the John rounded-to close under our lee; a rope was thrown,
and the boat was hauled alongside.

Everybody in the Tigris was shocked when we came to get a look at the
condition of the strangers. One man, a powerful negro, lay dead in
the bottom of the boat; the body having been kept for a dreadful
alternative, in the event of his companions falling in with no other
relief. Three more of the men were nearly gone, and had to be whipped on
board as so many lifeless bales of goods. Captain Robbins and Kite, both
athletic, active men, resembled spectres, their eyes standing out of
their heads as if thrust from their sockets by some internal foe; and
when we spoke to them, they all seemed unable to answer. It was not
fasting, or want of food, that had reduced them to this state, so much
as want of water. It is true, they had no more bread left than would
keep body and soul together for a few hours longer; but of water they
had tasted not a drop for seventy odd hours! It appeared that, during
the gale, they had been compelled to empty the breakers to lighten the
boat, reserving only one for their immediate wants. By some mistake,
the one reserved was nearly half-empty at the time; and Captain Robbins
believed himself then so near Bourbon, as not to go on an allowance
until it was too late. In this condition had they been searching for the
island quite ten days, passing it, but never hitting it. The winds had
not favoured them, and, the last few days, the weather had been such as
to admit of no observation. Consequently, they had been as much out of
their reckoning in their latitude, as in their longitude.

A gleam of intelligence, and I thought of pleasure, shot athwart the
countenance of Captain Robbins, as I helped him over the Tigris's side.
He saw I was safe. He tottered as he walked, and leaned heavily on me
for support. I was about to lead him aft, but his eye caught sight of a
scuttlebutt, and the tin-pot on its head. Thither he went, and stretched
out a trembling hand to the vessel. I gave him the pot as it was, with
about a wine-glass of water in it This he swallowed at a gulp, and then
tottered forward for more. By this time Captain Digges joined us, and
gave the proper directions how to proceed. All the sufferers had
water in small quantities given them, and it is wonderful with what
expressions of delight they received the grateful beverage. As soon as
they understood the necessity of keeping it as long as possible in their
mouths, and on their tongues, before swallowing it, a little did them a
great deal of good. After this, we gave them some coffee, the breakfast
being ready, and then a little ship's biscuit soaked in wine. By such
means every man was saved, though it was near a month before all were
themselves again. As for Captain Robbins and Kite, they were enabled to
attend to duty by the end of a week, though nothing more was exacted of
them than they chose to perform.



CHAPTER VI.

         “The yesty waves
  Confound and swallow navigation up.”
   _Macbeth._


Poor Captain Robbins! No sooner did he regain his bodily strength, than
he began to endure the pain of mind that was inseparable from the
loss of his ship. Marble, who, now that he had fallen to the humbler
condition of a second-mate, was more than usually disposed to be
communicative with me, gave me to understand that our old superior had
at first sounded Captain Digges on the subject of proceeding to the
wreck, in order to ascertain what could be saved; but the latter had
soon convinced him that a first-rate Philadelphia Indiaman had something
else to do besides turning wrecker. After a pretty broad hint to this
effect, the John, and all that was in her, were abandoned to their fate.
Marble, however, was of opinion that the gale in which the launch came
so near being lost, must have broken the ship entirely to pieces, giving
her fragments to the ocean. We never heard of her fate, or recovered a
single article that belonged to her.

Many were the discussions between Captain Robbins and his two mates,
touching the error in reckoning that had led them so far from their
course. In that day, navigation was by no means as simple a thing as it
has since become. It is true, lunars were usually attempted in India
and China ships; but this was not an every-day affair, like the present
morning and afternoon observations to obtain the time, and, by means of
the chronometer, the longitude. Then we had so recently got clear of the
islands, as to have no great need of any extraordinary head-work; and
the “bloody currents” had acted their pleasure with us for eight or ten
days before the loss of the ship. Marble was a very good navigator,
one of the best I ever sailed with, in spite of the plainness of his
exterior, and his rough deportment; and, all things considered, he
treated his old commander with great delicacy, promising to do all he
could, when he got home, to clear the matter up. As for Kite, he knew
but little, and had the discretion to say but little. This moderation
rendered our passage all the more agreeable.

The Tigris was a very fast ship, besides being well-found. She was a
little larger than the John, and mounted twelve guns, nine-pounders. In
consequence of the additions made to her crew, one way and another, she
now mustered nearer fifty than forty souls on board. Captain Digges had
certain martial tastes, and, long before we were up with the Cape, he
had us all quartered and exercised at the guns. He, too, had had an
affair with some proas, and he loved to converse of the threshing he had
given the rascals. I thought he envied us our exploit, though this might
have been mere imagination on my part, for he was liberal enough in his
commendations. The private intelligence he had received of the relations
between France and America, quickened his natural impulses; and, by the
time we reached St. Helena, the ship might have been said to be in good
fighting order for a merchantman. We touched at this last-mentioned
island for supplies, but obtained no news of any interest. Those who
supplied the ship could tell us nothing but the names of the Indiamen
who had gone out and home for the last twelvemonth, and the prices of
fresh meat and vegetables. Napoleon civilized them, seventeen years
later.

We had a good run from St. Helena to the calm latitudes, but these
last proved calmer than common. We worried through them after a while,
however, and then did very well until we got in the latitude of the
Windward Islands. Marble one day remarked to me that Captain Digges
was standing closer to the French island of Guadaloupe than was at all
necessary or prudent, if he believed in his own reports of the danger
there existed to American commerce, in this quarter of the ocean.

I have lived long enough, and have seen too much of men and things, to
fancy my country and countrymen right in all their transactions, merely
because newspapers, members of congress, and fourth of July orators,
are pleased to affirm the doctrine. No one can go much to sea without
reading with great distrust many of the accounts, in the journals of
the day, of the grievous wrongs done the commerce of America by the
authorities of this or that port, the seizure of such a ship, or the
imprisonment of some particular set of officers and men. As a rule,
it is safer to assume that the afflicted parties deserve all that has
happened to them, than to believe them immaculate; and, quite likely,
much more, too. The habit of receiving such appeals to their sympathies,
renders the good people of the republic peculiarly liable to impositions
of this nature; and the mother who encourages those of her children who
fetch and carry, will be certain to have her ears filled with complaints
and tattle. Nevertheless, it is a fact beyond all dispute, that the
commerce of the country was terribly depredated on by nearly all the
European belligerents, between the commencement of the war of the French
revolution and its close. So enormous were the robberies thus committed
on the widely extended trade of this nation, under one pretence or
another, as to give a colouring of retributive justice, if not of moral
right, to the recent failures of certain States among us to pay their
debts. Providence singularly avenges all wrongs by its unerring course;
and I doubt not, if the facts could be sifted to the bottom, it would
be found the devil was not permitted to do his work, in either case,
without using materials supplied by the sufferers, in some direct or
indirect manner, themselves. Of all the depredations on American trade
just mentioned, those of the great sister republic, at the close of the
last century, were among the most grievous, and were of a character
so atrocious and bold, that I confess it militates somewhat against my
theory to admit that France owns very little of the “suspended debt;”
 but I account for this last circumstance by the reparation she in part
made, by the treaty of 1831. With England it is different. She drove us
into a war by the effects of her orders in council and paper blockades,
and compelled us to expend a hundred millions to set matters right. I
should like to see the books balanced, not by the devil, who equally
instigated the robberies on the high seas, and the “suspension” or
“repudiation” of the State debts; but by the great Accountant who keeps
a record of all our deeds of this nature, whether it be to make money
by means of cruising ships, or cruising scrip. It is true, these rovers
encountered very differently-looking victims, in the first place; but it
is a somewhat trite remark, that the aggregate of human beings is pretty
much the same in all situations. There were widows and orphans as
much connected with the condemnation of prizes, as with the prices of
condemned stock; and I do not see that fraud is any worse when carried
on by scriveners and clerks with quills behind their ears, than when
carried on by gentlemen wearing cocked hats, and carrying swords
by their sides. On the whole, I am far from certain that the
account-current of honesty is not slightly--honesty very _slightly_
leavens either transaction--in favour of the non-paying States, as men
do sometimes borrow with good intentions, and fail, from inability,
to pay; whereas, in the whole course of my experience, I never knew a
captor of a ship who intended to give back any of the prize-money, if he
could help it. But, to return to my adventures.

We were exactly in the latitude of Guadaloupe, with the usual breeze,
when, at daylight, a rakish-looking brig was seen in chase. Captain
Digges took a long survey of the stranger with his best glass, one that
was never exhibited but on state occasions, and then he pronounced
him to be a French cruiser; most probably a privateer. That he was a
Frenchman, Marble affirmed, was apparent by the height of his top-masts,
and the shortness of his yards; the upper spars, in particular, being
mere apologies for yards. Everybody who had any right to an opinion, was
satisfied the brig was a French cruiser, either public or private.

The Tigris was a fast ship, and she was under top-mast and top-gallant
studding-sails at the time, going about seven knots. The brig was on an
easy bowline, evidently looking up for our wake, edging off gradually as
we drew ahead. She went about nine knots, and bade fair to close with us
by noon. There was a good deal of doubt, aft, as to the course we ought
to pursue. It was decided in the end, however, to shorten sail and let
the brig come up, as being less subject to cavils, than to seem to avoid
her. Captain Digges got out his last letters from home, and I saw him
showing them to Captain Robbins, the two conning them over with great
earnestness. I was sent to do some duty near the hencoops, where they
were sitting, and overheard a part of their conversation. From the
discourse, I gathered that the proceedings of these picaroons were often
equivocal, and that Americans were generally left in doubt, until
a favourable moment occurred for the semi-pirates to effect their
purposes. The party assailed did not know when or how to defend himself,
until it was too late.

“These chaps come aboard you, sometimes, before you're aware of what
they are about,” observed Captain Robbins.

“I'll not be taken by surprise in that fashion,” returned Digges, after
a moment of reflection. “Here, you Miles, go forward and tell the cook
to fill his coppers with water, and to set it boiling as fast as he can;
and tell Mr. Marble I want him aft. Bear a hand, now, youngster, and
give them a lift yourself.”

Of course I obeyed, wondering what the captain wanted with so much hot
water as to let the people eat their dinners off cold grub, rather than
dispense with it; for this was a consequence of his decree. But we
had not got the coppers half-filled, before I saw Mr. Marble and Neb
lowering a small ship's engine from the launch, and placing it near the
galley, in readiness to be filled. The mate told Neb to screw on the
pipe, and then half a dozen of the men, as soon as we got through with
the coppers, were told to fill the engine with sea-water. Captain Digges
now came forward to superintend the exercise, and Neb jumped on the
engine, flourishing the pipe about with the delight of a “nigger.” The
captain was diverted with the black's zeal, and he appointed him captain
of the firemen on the spot.

“Now, let us see what you can do at that forward dead eye, darky,” said
Captain Digges, laughing. “Take it directly on the strap. Play away,
boys, and let Neb try his hand.”

It happened that Neb hit the dead-eye at the first jet, and he showed
great readiness in turning the stream from point to point, as ordered.
Neb's conduct on the night of the affair with the proas had been told
to Captain Digges, who was so well pleased with the fellow's present
dexterity, as to confirm him in office. He was told to stick by the
engine at every hazard. Soon after, an order was given to clear for
action. This had an ominous sound to my young ears, and, though I have
no reason to suppose myself deficient in firmness, I confess I began to
think again of Clawbonny, and Grace, and Lucy; ay, and even of the mill.
This lasted but for a moment, however, and, as soon as I got at work,
the feeling gave me no trouble. We were an hour getting the ship ready,
and, by that time, the brig was within half a mile, luffing fairly up on
our lee-quarter. As we had shortened sail, the privateer manifested no
intention of throwing a shot to make us heave-to. She seemed disposed to
extend courtesy for courtesy.

The next order was for all hands to go to quarters. I was stationed in
the main-top, and Rupert in the fore. Our duties were to do light work,
in the way of repairing damages; and the captain, understanding that we
were both accustomed to fire-arms, gave us a musket a-piece, with orders
to blaze away as soon as they began the work below. As we had both stood
fire once, we thought ourselves veterans, and proceeded to our stations,
smiling and nodding to each other as we went up the rigging. Of the two,
my station was the best, since I could see the approach of the brig, the
mizen-top-sail offering but little obstruction to vision after she got
near; whereas the main-top-sail was a perfect curtain, so far as
poor Rupert was concerned. In the way of danger, there was not much
difference as to any of the stations on board, the bulwarks of the ship
being little more than plank that would hardly stop a musket-ball; and
then the French had a reputation for firing into the rigging.

As soon as all was ready, the captain sternly ordered silence. By this
time the brig was near enough to hail. I could see her decks quite
plainly, and they were filled with men. I counted her guns, too, and
ascertained she had but ten, all of which seemed to be lighter than
our own. One circumstance that I observed, however, was suspicious. Her
forecastle was crowded with men, who appeared to be crouching behind the
bulwarks, as if anxious to conceal their presence from the eyes of those
in the Tigris. I had a mind to jump on a back-stay and slip down on
deck, to let this threatening appearance be known; but I had heard some
sayings touching the imperative duty of remaining at quarters in face of
the enemy, and I did not like to desert my station. Tyroes have always
exaggerated notions both of their rights and their duties, and I had
not escaped the weakness. Still, I think some credit is due for the
alternative adopted. During the whole voyage, I had kept a reckoning,
and paper and pencil were always in my pocket, in readiness to catch a
moment to finish a day's work. I wrote as follows on a piece of
paper, therefore, as fast as possible, and dropped the billet on the
quarter-deck, by enclosing a copper in the scrawl, _cents_ then being
in their infancy. I had merely written--“The brig's forecastle is filled
with armed men, hid behind the bulwarks!” Captain Digges heard the fall
of the copper, and looking up--nothing takes an officer's eyes aloft
quicker than to find anything coming out of a top!--he saw me pointing
to the paper. I was rewarded for this liberty by an approving nod.
Captain Digges read what I had written, and I soon observed Neb and the
cook filling the engine with boiling water. This job was no sooner done
than a good place was selected on the quarter-deck for this singular
implement of war, and then a hail came from the brig.

“Vat zat sheep is?” demanded some one from the brig.

“The Tigris of Philadelphia, from Calcutta _home_. What brig is _that_?”

“_La Folie--corsair Français_. From vair you come?”

“From Calcutta. And where are _you_ from?”

“Guadaloupe. Vair you go, eh?”

“Philadelphia. Do not luff so near me; some accident may happen.”

“Vat you call '_accident_?' Can nevair hear, eh? I will come _tout
près_.”

“Give us a wider berth, I tell you! Here is your jib boom nearly foul of
my mizen-rigging.”

“Vat mean zat, bert' vidair? eh! _Allons, mes enfants, c'est le
moment_!”

“Luff a little, and keep his spar clear,” cried our captain. “Squirt
away, Neb, and let us see what you can do!”

The engine made a movement, just as the French began to run out on
their bowsprit, and, by the time six or eight were on the heel of the
jib-boom, they were met by the hissing hot stream, which took them _en
echelon_, as it might be, fairly raking the whole line. The effect
was instantaneous. Physical nature cannot stand excessive heat, unless
particularly well supplied with skin; and the three leading Frenchmen,
finding retreat impossible, dropped incontinently into the sea,
preferring cold water to hot--the chances of drowning, to the certainty
of being scalded. I believe all three were saved by their companions
in-board, but I will not vouch for the fact. The remainder of the
intended boarders, having the bowsprit before them, scrambled back upon
the brig's forecastle as well as they could, betraying, by the
random way in which their hands flew about, that they had a perfect
consciousness how much they left their rear exposed on the retreat. A
hearty laugh was heard in all parts of the Tigris, and the brig,
putting her helm hard up, wore round like a top, as if she were scalded
herself.{*]

{Footnote *: This incident actually occurred in the war of 1798]

We all expected a broadside now; but of that there was little
apprehension, as it was pretty certain we carried the heaviest battery,
and had men enough to work it. But the brig did not fire, I suppose
because we fell off a little ourselves, and she perceived it might
prove a losing game. On the contrary, she went quite round on her heel,
hauling up on the other tack far enough to bring the two vessels exactly
_dos à dos_. Captain Digges ordered two of the quarter-deck nines to be
run out of the stern-ports; and it was well he did, for it was not in
nature for men to be treated as our friends in the brig had been served,
without manifesting certain signs of ill-humour. The vessels might have
been three cables' lengths asunder when we got a gun. The first I knew
of the shot was to hear it plunge through the mizen-top-sail, then
it came whistling through my top, between the weather-rigging and the
mast-head, cutting a hole through the main-top-sail, and, proceeding
onward, I heard it strike something more solid than canvass. I thought
of Rupert and the fore-top in an instant, and looked anxiously down on
deck to ascertain if he were injured.

“Fore-top, there!” called out Captain Digges. “Where did that shot
strike?”

“In the mast-head,” answered Rupert, in a clear, firm voice. “It has
done no damage, sir.”

“Now's your time, Captain Robbing--give 'em a reminder.”

Both our nines were fired, and, a few seconds after, three cheers arose
from the decks of our ship. I could not see the brig, now, for the
mizen-top-sail; but I afterwards learned that we had shot away her gaff.
This terminated the combat, in which the glory was acquired principally
by Neb. They told me, when I got down among the people again, that the
black's face had been dilated with delight the whole time, though he
stood fairly exposed to musketry, his mouth grinning from ear to ear.
Neb was justly elated with the success that attended this exhibition of
his skill, and described the retreat of our enemies with a humour and
relish that raised many a laugh at the discomfited privateersman. It is
certain that some of the fellows must have been nearly parboiled.

I have always supposed this affair between la Folie and the Tigris to
have been the actual commencement of hostilities in the _quasi_ war
of 1798-9 and 1800. Other occurrences soon supplanted it in the public
mind; but we of the ship never ceased to regard the adventure as one of
great national interest. It did prove to be a nine days' wonder in the
newspapers.

From this time, nothing worthy of being noted occurred, until we reached
the coast. We had got as high as the capes

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