Notwithstanding the decided result of the experiment with the second mate, one of the men belonging to the larboard watch, named Allen, determined to try conclusions with the captain and chief mate, and ascertain how far they would allow the strict rules of discipline on shipboard to be infringed. Allen was a powerful fellow, of huge proportions, and tolerably good features, which, however, were overshadowed by a truculent expression. Although of a daring disposition, and unused to subordination, having served for several years in ships engaged in the African slave trade, the nursery of pirates and desperadoes, he showed but little wisdom in trying the patience of Stetson.

On the second night after leaving port, the ship being under double-reefed topsails, the watch was summoned aft to execute some duty. The captain was on deck, and casually remarked to the mate, "It blows hard, Mr. Stetson; we may have a regular gale before morning!"

Allen at that moment was passing along to WINDWARD of the captain and mate. He stopped, and before Stetson could reply, said in a tone of insolent familiarity, "Yes, it blows hard, and will blow harder yet! Well, who cares? Let it blow and be _!"

Captain Bacon seemed utterly astonished at the impudence of the man; but Stetson, who was equally prompt and energetic on all occasions, and who divined the object that Allen had in view, in lieu of a civil rejoinder dealt him a blow on the left temple, which sent him with violence against the bulwarks. Allen recovered himself, however, and sprang on the mate like a tiger, clasped him in his sinewy embrace, and called upon his watchmates for assistance.

As Stetson and Allen were both powerful men it is uncertain what would have been the result had Stetson fought the battle single-handed. The men looked on, waiting the result, but without daring to interfere. Not so the captain. When he saw Allen attack the mate, he seized a belaying pin, that was loose in the fife-rail, and watching his opportunity, gave the refractory sailor two or three smart raps over the head and face, which embarrassed him amazingly, caused him to release his grasp on the mate, and felled him to the deck!

The mate then took a stout rope's end and threshed him until he roared for mercy. The fellow was terribly punished and staggered forward, followed by a volley of threats and anathemas.

But the matter did not end here. At twelve o'clock Allen went below, and was loud in his complaints of the barbarous manner in which he had been treated. He swore revenge, and said he would lay a plan to get the mate into the forecastle, and then square all accounts. Robinson and another of the starboard watch, having no idea that Stetson could be enticed below, approved of the suggestion, and intimated that they would lend him a hand if necessary. They did not KNOW Stetson!

When the watch was called at four o'clock Allen did not make his appearance. In about half an hour the voice of Stetson was heard at the forescuttle ordering him on deck.

"Ay, ay, sir," said Allen, "I am coming directly."

"You had better do so," said the mate, "if you know when you are well off."

"Ay, ay, sir!"

Allen was sitting on a chest, dressed, but did not move. I was lying in my berth attentive to the proceedings, as, I believe were all my watchmates. In about a quarter of an hour Stetson took another look down the scuttle, and bellowed out, "Allen, are you coming on deck or not?"

"Ay, ay, sir; directly!"

"If I have to go down after you, my good fellow, it will be worse for you, that's all."

Allen remained sitting on the chest. Day began to break. Stetson was again heard at the entrance of the forecastle. His patience, of which he had not a large stock, was exhausted.

"Come on deck, this instant, you lazy, lounging, big-shouldered renegade! Will you let other people do your work? Show your broken head and your lovely battered features on deck at once in the twinkling of a handspike. I want to see how you look after your frolic!"

"Ay, ay, sir! I'm coming right up."

"You lie, you rascal. You don't mean to come! But I'll soon settle the question whether you are to have your way in this ship or I am to have mine!"

Saying this, Stetson descended the steps which led into the habitation of the sailors. In doing this, under the peculiar circumstances, he gave a striking proof of his fearless character. He had reason to anticipate a desperate resistance from Allen, while some of the sailors might also be ready to take part with their shipmate, if they saw him overmatched; and in that dark and close apartment, where no features could be clearly distinguished, he would be likely to receive exceedingly rough treatment.

Stetson, however, was a man who seldom calculated consequences in cases of this kind. He may have been armed, but he made no display of other weapons than his brawny fist. He seized Allen by the collar with a vigorous grasp. "You scoundrel," said he, "what do you mean by this conduct? Go on deck and attend to your duty! On deck, I say! Up with you, at once!"

Allen at first held back, hoping that some of his shipmates would come to his aid, as they partly promised; but not a man stirred, greatly to his disappointment and disgust. They, doubtless, felt it might be unsafe to engage in the quarrels of others; and Allen, after receiving a few gentle reminders from the mate in the shape of clips on the side of his head and punches among the short ribs, preceded the mate on deck. He was conquered.

The weather was cold and cheerless; the wind was blowing heavy; the rain was falling fast; and Allen, who had few clothes, was thinly clad; but he was sent aloft in an exposed situation, and kept there through the greater part of the day. His battered head, his cut face, his swollen features, and his gory locks told the tale of his punishment. Stetson had no magnanimity in his composition. He cherished a grudge against that man to the end of the passage, and lost no opportunity to indulge his hatred and vindictiveness.

"Never mind," said Allen, one day, when sent on some useless mission in the vicinity of the knight-heads, while the ship was plunging violently, and sending cataracts of salt water over the bowsprit at every dive; "never mind, it will be only for a single passage."

"I know that," said Stetson, with an oath; "and I will take good care to 'work you up' well during the passage." And he was as good as his word.

The mate of a ship, especially when the captain is inactive, is not properly acquainted with his duties, or is disposed to let him pursue his own course, is vested with great authority. He has it in his power to contribute to the comfort of the men, and establish that good understanding between the cabin and the forecastle which should ever reign in a merchant ship. But it sometimes, unfortunately, happens that the officers of a ship are men of amazingly little souls; deficient in manliness of character, illiberal in their sentiments, and jealous of their authority; and although but little deserving the respect of good men, are rigorous in exacting it. Such men are easily offended, take umbrage at trifles, and are unforgiving in their resentments. While they have power to annoy or punish an individual from whom they have received real or fancied injuries, they do not hesitate to exercise it.

Every seafaring man, of large experience, has often witnessed the unpleasant consequences of these old grudges, of this system of punishing a ship's company, by petty annoyances and unceasing hard work for some trifling misconduct on the part of one or more of the crew during the early part of the voyage. A master of a ship must be aware that the interest of all parties will be promoted by harmony on shipboard, which encourages the sailors to perform faithfully their manifold duties. Therefore, a good shipmaster will not only be firm, and decided, and just, and gentlemanly himself towards his crew, but he will promptly interfere to prevent unjust and tyrannical conduct on the part of his officers, when they are inexperienced or of a vindictive disposition.

When a man is insolent or insubordinate, the punishment or rebuke, if any is intended, SHOULD BE PROMPTLY ADMINISTERED. The account against him should not be entered on the books, but balanced on the spot. Whatever is his due should be paid off to the last stiver, and there the matter should end, never to be again agitated, or even referred to. This system of petty tyranny, this "working up" of a whole ship's company, or a single individual, in order to gratify a vindictive and unforgiving spirit, has been the cause of a deal of trouble and unhappiness, and has furnished materials in abundance for "men learned in the law."

Sailors are not stocks and stones. Few of them are so low and degraded as not to be able to distinguish the right from the wrong. They are aware of the importance of discipline, and know they must submit to its restraints, and render prompt obedience to orders from their superiors, without question; yet few of them are so deeply imbued with the meek spirit of Christianity as to forego remonstrance to injustice or resistance to tyranny.

The Packet proved to be a fast-sailing ship. The log often indicated ten, eleven, and eleven and a half knots. We had a quick but rough passage across the Atlantic, and frequently took on board a much larger quantity of salt water than was agreeable to those who had berths in her bows. In four days after leaving Boston we reached the Banks of Newfoundland; in eighteen days, we struck soundings off Cape Clear; and in twenty-one days, let go our anchor in the River Mersey.



Chapter XIV. DISAPPOINTED HOPES

The day succeeding our arrival at Liverpool, having disposed of our gunpowder, we hauled into King's Dock, and commenced preparations for receiving the remainder of our cargo. At that period there were only four floating docks in Liverpool. The town was not in a prosperous condition. It had not recovered from the shock caused by the abolition of the slave trade. That inhuman traffic had been carried on to a very great extent for many years by Liverpool merchants, and, of course, the law prohibiting the traffic a law wise and humane, in itself, but injurious to the interests of individuals was resisted in Parliament by all the commercial wealth of Liverpool and Bristol, the two principal ports in which the merchants resided who were engaged in the slave traffic. Even in 1811, many fine ships were lying idle in the docks, which had been built expressly for that business; and their grated air-ports, high and solid bulwarks, peculiar hatchways, large and unsightly poops, all gave evidence of the expensive arrangements and great importance of the "Guineamen" of those days.

It was expected that our cargo would be completed immediately after our arrival at Liverpool, and the ship despatched on her way around Cape Horn; but the tobacco which we had taken on board in Boston, being an article on which an enormous duty was exacted, was the cause of trouble and delay. Consultations with the authorities in London were necessary, and weeks elapsed before Captain Bacon could get the ship out of the clutches of the revenue department. In the mean time the crew remained by the ship, but took their meals at a boarding house on shore, as was the custom in Liverpool. They were all furnished with American protections; but some of them, unwilling to rely on the protecting power of a paper document, which in their cases told a tale of fiction, adopted various expedients to avoid the press-gangs which occasionally thridded the streets, and even entered dwellings when the doors were unfastened, to capture sailors and COMPEL them to VOLUNTEER to serve their king and country.

One of these unfortunate men, after having successfully dodged the pressgangs for a fortnight, and living meanwhile in an unenviable state of anxiety, was pounced upon by some disguised members of a pressgang as he left the boarding house one evening. He struggled hard to escape, but was knocked down and dragged off to the naval rendezvous. He was examined the next morning before the American consul, but, notwithstanding his protection, his citizenship could not be substantiated. He was in reality a Prussian, and of course detained as a lawful prize. The poor fellow lamented his hard destiny with tears. He knew the degrading and unhappy character of the slavery to which he was doomed probably for life, and strongly implored Captain Bacon to leave no means untried to procure his release; but the captain's efforts were in vain.

I was rejoiced when intelligence came that the trouble about the tobacco was at an end, and the remainder of the cargo could be taken on board. On the following forenoon the ship was hauled stern on to the quay, and the heavy bales of goods, when brought down, were tumbled on deck by the crew and rolled along to the main hatchway. I was employed with one of my shipmates in this work, when some clumsy fellows who were handling another bale behind me pitched it over in such a careless manner that it struck my left leg, which it doubled up like a rattan. I felt that my leg was fractured, indeed, I heard the bone snap, and threw myself on a gun carriage, making wry faces in consequence of the pain I suffered.

"Are you MUCH hurt, Hawser?" inquired the chief mate, in a tone of irony, and with a grim smile.

"Yes, sir; badly hurt. I'm afraid my leg is broken."

"Not so bad as that, I hope," exclaimed Stetson, with some display of anxiety. "I guess you are more frightened than hurt. Let me look at your leg."

He found my surmises were correct, and expressed more sympathy for my misfortune than I could have expected. I was carried into the cabin, and after a short delay conveyed in a carriage to the Infirmary or hospital. When the carriage reached the gateway of the Infirmary, the bell was rung by the coachman, and the porter made his appearance. He was a tall, hard-featured, sulky-looking man, about fifty years of age, called Thomas; and having held that office a number of years, he assumed as many airs, and pretended to as much surgical skill, as the professors.

"What's the matter now?" inquired the porter, with a discontented growl.

"An accident," replied the coachman. "This boy has broken his leg. He is a sailor, belonging to an American ship."

"Ah, ha! An American, is he?" added Thomas, with a diabolical sneer. "A Yankee Doodle! Never mind; we'll take care of him."

I was lifted from the carriage and carried by the ship's armorer, very gently, into one of the rooms, the grim-looking porter leading the way. I was placed in an arm chair, and, as the surgeon whose duty it was to attend to accidents on that day was not immediately forthcoming, the porter undertook to examine the fracture. He proceeded to take off the stocking, which fitted rather closely, and the removal of which gave me intolerable pain. I begged him to rip off the garment with a knife, and put an end to my torments. The armorer also remonstrated against his unnecessary cruelty, but in vain. The only reply of the grumbling rascal was that the stocking was too good to be destroyed, and he never knew a Yankee who could bear pain like a man! He then began, in a cool and business-like manner, to twist my foot about, grinding the fractured bones together to ascertain, as he said, whether the limb was actually broken! And I verily believe that my complaints and groans, which I did not attempt to suppress, were sweet music in his ears. It was clear to me that, for some reason which I could never learn, Mr. Thomas owed the whole Yankee nation a grudge, and was ready to pay it off on an individual whenever he could get a chance.

After he finished his examination, I looked around the room, which was not a large one. It was number one of the "accident ward." It contained six beds, besides a pallet in a corner for the nurse of the ward. These beds, with two exceptions, were occupied by unfortunate beings like myself. As I was brought in among them they gazed upon me earnestly, prompted, I verily believe, not only by curiosity, but commiseration for my unhappy condition. The surgeon made his appearance, and succeeded, without much difficulty, in setting the limb, an operation which, acknowledging its necessity, I bore with becoming fortitude. I was placed on my back in one of the unoccupied beds, with the rather unnecessary caution to lie perfectly still. The armorer returned to the ship, and I was left among strangers.

I now had leisure to reflect on my situation. My hopes of visiting the "north-west coast" were suddenly destroyed. A cripple, in a strange land, without money or friends, a cloud seemed to rest on my prospects. During the remainder of the day and the succeeding night I suffered much from "the blues." My spirits were out of tune. The scanty hospital fare that was offered me I sent away untouched, and sleep refused to bury my senses in forgetfulness until long after the midnight hour. This, however, might have been partly owing to the involuntary groans and murmurs of unfortunate sufferers in my immediate vicinity. That first day and night wore a sombre aspect, and teemed with gloomy forebodings.

In the morning I fell into a kind of doze, and dreamed that I was walking in a beautiful meadow, which was traversed by a wide and deep ditch. Wishing to pass to the other side I attempted to leap the ditch, but jumped short, and buried myself in mud and mire to the waist! I awoke with a start, which I accompanied with a cry of distress. I had moved the broken limb, and furnished more work for the surgeon and suffering for myself.

My gloomy reflections and disquietude of mind did not last long. In the morning my attention was attracted by the novelties of my situation, and I found much to excite my curiosity and interest my feelings. My "fit of the blues" had passed off to return no more. I had some conversation with a remarkably tall, military-looking man, who moved about awkwardly as if he was learning to walk upon stilts, or was lame in both legs, which I afterwards found to be the case. He appeared friendly and intelligent, and gave me interesting information in relation to the inmates and economy of the establishment.

I learned from him that the bed nearest mine, within a few feet on the right hand, and the one beyond it, were occupied by two boys who were victims of a sad misfortune. Their intense sufferings were the cause of the moans and murmurings I had heard during the night. These boys were apprentices to the rope-making business, and a few days before, while spinning ropeyarns, with the loose hemp wound in folds around their waists, the youngest, a lad about fourteen years old, unwittingly approached an open fire, the weather being cold. A spark ignited the hemp, and in a moment the whole was in a blaze. The other boy, obeying an involuntary but generous impulse, rushed to the assistance of his companion, only to share his misfortune. They were both terribly burned, and conveyed to the hospital.

Every morning the rations for the day were served out to the patients. The quality of the food, always excepting a dark-looking liquid of revolting aspect, known as "beer porridge," and which I ate only through fear of starvation was generally good, and the quantity was sufficient to keep the patients alive, while they had no reason to apprehend ill consequences from a surfeit.

In the course of the forenoon Captain Bacon came to see me. He expressed regret at my misfortune, and tried to console me with the assurance that I should be well cared for. He said the ship Packet would sail the next day, that my chest and bedding should be sent to the house where the crew had boarded, that HE HAD COMMENDED ME TO THE PARTICULAR CONSIDERATION OF THE AMERICAN CONSUL, who was his consignee, an would see that I was sent back to the United States as soon as I should be in a condition to leave the hospital. He put a silver dollar into my hand, as he said to buy some fruit, bade me be of good cheer, and left me to my reflections.

In the afternoon of the same day, one of my shipmates, a kind-hearted lad, about my own age, called at the hospital to bid me farewell. He regretted the necessity of our separation, and wept over the misfortune that had occasioned it. From him I learned that the key of my chest having been left in the lock when I was carried from the ship, he feared that Allen and one or two others of the crew, who were not liberally supplied with clothing for a long voyage, had made free with my property. He also told me that three of the ship's company had deserted, having no confidence in the amiable qualities of Mr. Stetson, the chief mate; but that Allen, who had been the victim of his vindictiveness during the whole passage from Boston, dreading the horrors of impressment more than the barbarity of the mate, and having a good American protection, had determined to remain by the ship!

He told me, further, he was by no means satisfied with the character of Stetson, and feared that when again on the ocean he would prove a Tartar; and that I had no great reasons to regret an accident which would prevent my proceeding on the voyage.

I subsequently learned that Stetson showed his true colors after the ship left Liverpool, and owing to his evil deportment and tyrannical conduct, there was little peace or comfort for the crew during the three years' voyage.

On the third day of my residence in the Infirmary, the unfortunate boy who occupied the bed nearest mine appeared to be sinking rapidly. It was sad to witness his sufferings. His mother, a woman in the lowest rank of life, was with him through the day. She eagerly watched every symptom of his illness, nursed him with care and tenderness, sought to prepare him for the great change which was about to take place; and, a true woman and a mother, endeavored to hide her own anguish while she ministered to the bodily and spiritual wants of her only child, who nobly risked his life to save that of his companion. I watched the proceedings with deep interest through the day, and when night came I felt no inclination to sleep. The groans of the unfortunate boy became fainter and fainter, and it was evident he would soon be released from his sufferings by the hand of death.

At length I became weary with watching, and about eleven o'clock fell asleep, in spite of the dying moans of the boy and the half-stifled sobs of his mother. I slept soundly, undisturbed by the mournful scenes which were enacted around me. When I awoke the room was lighted only by the rays of an expiring lamp in the chimney corner. No one was moving; not a sound was heard except the loud breathing of the inmates, who, their wonted rest having been interrupted by this melancholy interlude, had buried their pains and anxieties in sleep.

I looked towards the bed where the sufferer lay whose sad fate had so attracted my attention and elicited my sympathies a few hours before. His mother was no longer present. His moans were no longer heard. His form seemed extended motionless on the bed, and his head reposed as usual on the pillow. But I was startled at perceiving him staring fixedly at me with eyes preternaturally large, and of a cold, glassy, ghastly appearance! I closed my own eyes and turned my head away, while a tremor shook very nerve. Was this an illusion? Was I laboring under the effects of a dream? Or had my imagination conjured up a spectre?

I looked again. The eyes, like two full moons, were still there, glaring at me with that cold, fixed, maddening expression. I could no longer control my feelings. If I had been able to use my limbs I should have fled from the room. As that was impossible I called loudly to the nurse, and awoke her from a sound sleep! She came muttering to my bedside, and inquired what was the matter?

"Look at William's eyes!" said I. "Is he dead, or is he alive? What is the meaning of those horrible-looking, unearthly eyes? Why DON'T you speak?"

"Don't be a fool," replied the nurse, sharply, "and let shadows frighten you out of your wits."

While I remained in an agony of suspense she leisurely returned to the fireplace, took the lamp from the hearth, raised the wick to increase the light, and approaching the bedside, held it over the body of the occupant. The boy was dead! Two large pieces of bright copper coin had been placed over the eyes for the purpose of closing the lids after death, and the faint and flickering reflection of the lamplight, aided, probably, by the excited condition of my nervous system, had given them that wild and ghastly appearance which had shaken my soul with terror.

For three weeks I lay in my bed, an attentive observer of the singular scenes that occurred in my apartment. I was visited every morning by a student in surgery, or "dresser," and twice a week by one of the regular surgeons of the establishment while going his rounds. My general health was good, notwithstanding a want of that exercise and fresh air to which I had been accustomed. My appetite was remarkable; indeed, my greatest, if not only cause of complaint, was the very STINTED QUANTITY of daily food that was served out to each individual. No discrimination was observed; the robust young man, with an iron constitution, was, so far as related to food, placed on a par with the poor invalid, debilitated with protracted suffering or dying of inappetency.

In every other situation in which I have been placed I have had abundance of food. Sometimes the food was of a quality deplorably wretched, it is true, but such as it was there was always enough. But in the Liverpool Infirmary I experienced the miseries of SHORT ALLOWANCE, and had an opportunity to witness the effect it produces in ruffling the temper and breeding discontent. It also opened my eyes to the instinctive selfishness of man. Those who were in sound health, with good appetites, although apparently endued with a full share of affections and sympathies, seemed actually to rejoice when one of their companions, through suffering and debility, was unable to consume his allowance of bread or porridge, which would be distributed among the more healthy inmates of the apartment.



Chapter XV. SCENES IN A HOSPITAL.

At the expiration of three weeks the dresser informed me he was about to case my fractured limb in splints and bandages, when I might quit my mattress, don my garments, and hop about the room or seat myself by the fireside.

This was good news, but my joy was somewhat dampened by the intelligence that I could not be furnished immediately with a pair of crutches, all belonging to the establishment being in use. I borrowed a pair occasionally for a few minutes, from an unfortunate individual who was domiciled in my apartment, and sometimes I shuffled about for exercise with a stout cane in my right hand, and a house-brush, in an inverted position under my left arm, in lieu of a crutch.

I witnessed many interesting scenes during my stay in the Infirmary, and fell in with some singular individuals, all of which showed me phases of human life that I had never dreamed of. The tall, military-looking man, with whom I became acquainted soon after I entered the establishment, proved to have been a soldier. He had served for years in a regiment of heavy dragoons, and attained the rank of corporal. He had sabred Frenchmen by dozens during the unsuccessful campaign in Holland under the Duke of York. He fought his battles over again with all the ardor and energy of an Othello, and to an audience as attentive, although, it may be, not so high-born or beautiful.

There was also present during my stay a young native of the Emerald Isle, who had seen service in the British navy. In an obstinate and bloody battle between English and French squadrons off the Island of Lissa, in the Adriatic, about nine months before, in which Sir William Hoste achieved a splendid victory, his leg had been shattered by a splinter. After a partial recovery he had received his discharge, and was returning to his home in "dear Old Ireland," when a relapse took place, and he took refuge in the hospital. He also could tell tales of wondrous interest connected with man-of-war life. He loved to talk of his cruises in the Mediterranean, of the whizzing of cannon balls, the mutilation of limbs, decks slippery with gore, levanters, pressgangs, boatswains' calls, and the cat-o'-nine tails of the boatswains' mates.

The patient, from whom I occasionally borrowed a pair of crutches, although a pleasant companion, bore upon his person unequivocal marks of having met with rough handling on the ocean or on the land. He was MINUS an eye, his nose had been knocked athwart-ships to the great injury of his beauty, and a deep scar, from a wound made with a bludgeon, adorned one of his temples! I learned that this man, who seemed to have been the football of fortune and had received many hard kicks, had never been in the army or the navy, that his wounds had been received in CIVIL wars, battling with his countrymen. I was further told by the nurse, as a secret, that although he was so amiable among his fellow-sufferers in the hospital, when outside the walls, if he could obtain a glass of gin or whiskey to raise his temper and courage to the STRIKING point, he never passed a day without fighting. He was notorious for his pugnacious propensities; had been in the Infirmary more than once for the tokens he had received of the prowess of his opponents. In his battles he always came off second best, and was now in the "accident ward" in consequence of a broken leg, having been kicked down stairs by a gang of rowdies whom he had insulted and defied!

There were also in the Infirmary inmates of a more pacific character. Fortunately for mankind it is not the mission of every one to fight. Among them was a gardener, a poor, inoffensive man, advanced in years, who with a cleaver had chopped off accidentally, he said two fingers of his right hand. The mutilation was intentional without doubt; his object having been to procure a claim for subsistence in the Infirmary for a time, and afterwards a passport to the poorhouse in Chester for life. He had experienced the ills of poverty; had outlived his wife and children; and able to talk well and fluently, entertained us with homely but forcible narratives illustrating life in the lowest ranks of society. When his wounds were healed he was reluctant to quit his comfortable quarters, and was actually driven from the establishment.

Other patients were brought in from time to time, and their wounds dressed. Some were dismissed in a few days; others detained for months. One intelligent young man, an English mechanic, was afflicted with a white swelling on his knee and suffered intolerable pain. His sobs and groans through the night, which he could not suppress, excited my sympathy, but grated harshly on the nerves of my tall friend the corporal of dragoons, who expostulated with him seriously on the unreasonableness of his conduct, arguing, like the honest tar on board the brig Clarissa, that these loud indications of suffering, while they afforded no positive relief to the sufferer, disturbed the slumbers of those who were free from pain or bore it with becoming fortitude.

In the evening, after we had partaken of the regular meal, those of us who were able to move about, and to whom I have more particularly alluded, would gather around the hearth, a coal fire burning in the grate, and pass a couple of hours in conversation, in which agreeable occupations, having read much and already seen something of the world, I was able to bear a part. There are few persons who are unable to converse, and converse well too, when their feelings are enlisted and they labor under no restraint; and very few persons so dull and stupid as to fail to receive or impart instruction from conversation with others.

Notwithstanding the rules of the infirmary to the contrary, the inmates of "number one" were not altogether deprived of the advantages and charms of female society. To say nothing of the old nurse, who was a host in gossip herself, her two daughters, both young and pretty girls, were sometimes smuggled into the Infirmary by the connivance of the grim and trustworthy porter, and remained there days at a time, carefully hid away in the pantry whenever "the master" or the surgeons went their regular rounds, which was always at stated hours. When the wind raged without, and the rain, hail, or snow sought entrance through the casement, while sitting near a comfortable fire, listening to female prattle and gossip, narratives of incidents of real life, discussions on disputed points in politics, philosophy, or religion between my friend with the crutches and the tall corporal of dragoons, who were both as fond of controversy as Mr. Shandy himself; or drinking in with my ears the Irish tar's glowing descriptions.

"Of moving accidents by flood and field; And of the cannibals that each other eat; The anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders!"

I was led to confess there were worse places in the world than the Liverpool Infirmary.

After a week's delay I came into possession of a pair of crutches, and could move around the room at pleasure, take exercise in the hall, and even visit an acquaintance in either of the other apartments. The garden attached to the establishment was thrown open to the patients at stated hours on particular days. The season was not inviting; nevertheless, one sunny day, accompanied by my lame friend of pugnacious reputation, I visited the garden, and rejoiced at finding myself once more in he open air. The ramble on crutches through the lonely walks was truly refreshing. Our spirits mounted to fever heat, and as we returned towards the building through the neatly gravelled avenue, my companion proposed a race, to which I assented. I have forgotten which won the race; I know we both made capital time, and performed to our own satisfaction, but not to the satisfaction of others. The gardener grumbled at the manner in which his walks were perforated and disfigured by our crutches. He complained to the authorities, and greatly to our regret a regulation was adopted by which all persons using crutches were forbidden to enter the garden.

I remained six weeks in the Infirmary, and became accustomed to the place, and made myself useful in various ways. I held the basin when a patient was let blood; I took charge of the instruments and bandages when a serious wound was closed by sutures and afterwards dressed; and was particularly busy when a fracture was examined or a dislocation reduced. Indeed I took a strange kind of interest in witnessing and aiding in the various operations, and was in a fair way to become a good practical surgeon, when I was discharged, and found myself a poor sailor, friendless, penniless, and lame. But the surgical knowledge, inaccurate and desultory as it was, which I acquired in the Liverpool Infirmary, and the power to preserve coolness and presence of mind, and minister relief in cases of wounds and dangerous diseases, when no medical adviser could be applied to, has often since been of valuable service to myself and others.

I took an affectionate farewell of my friends and acquaintances in the establishment, not forgetting the nurse and her pretty daughters, and, accompanied by the landlord of the house where the crew of the ship Packet boarded, passed through the gateway without meeting any obstruction on the part of the porter, who, on the contrary, grinned his approbation of my departure.

The distance to the boarding house was about half a mile; nevertheless I accomplished it easily on crutches without being fatigued, and congratulated myself when I passed the threshold and arrived at what I considered my home. But my troubles were not ended. The landlady, who was actually "the head" of the house, did not welcome my return with the cordiality I expected. She expressed a hope that the American consul would lose no time in providing means for my return to the United States, and favored me with the interesting information that while the regular charge for board without lodging was eighteen shillings a week, the American government allowed only twelve shillings a week for board and lodging. The inevitable inference was, that I was an unprofitable boarder, and the sooner they got me off their hands the better.

Another circumstance was a source of greater chagrin. When I reached the house, one of my first inquiries was for my chest and other property which I left in the forecastle of the ship. My chest was safely deposited with the landlord; BUT IT WAS NEARLY EMPTY! To my dismay I found that my stock of clothing for a two years' voyage jackets, boots, hats, blankets, and books had vanished. A few "old duds" only were left, hardly enough for a change of raiment. The officers had neglected to lock my chest and look after my little property; the men were bound on a long and tempestuous voyage, some of them scantily furnished with clothing; the ship was to sail in a day or two after I was carried to the hospital; the temptation was irresistible; they helped themselves freely at the expense of their unfortunate shipmate!

The United States consul at Liverpool was a merchant, of large means and extensive business; a man of great respectability, and it was confidently asserted, of generous feelings. I doubted not that when my case was represented to him he would grant me some relief, especially as Captain Bacon had recommended me to his care. I had heard nothing from him in the Infirmary. He was notified, officially, of my discharge; and as vessels were every day leaving Liverpool for Boston and New York, I expected to be immediately provided with a passage to one of those ports. But when days passed away, and I seemed to be forgotten, I mounted my crutches one morning and hobbled off through the crowded streets to a distant part of the town, in quest of an interview with the consul, intending to solicit that assistance to which every American citizen in distress was entitled.

With some difficulty, for Liverpool is not a rectangular town, I found the counting room of the consul, into which I boldly entered, confidently anticipating not only relief but sympathy for my misfortune. My appearance was not prepossessing, as my garments, although of the true nautical cut, were neither new nor genteel; and although I was in perfect health, my complexion was sallow from long confinement. But these drawbacks on my respectability, I thought, under the circumstances, might be excused. I found myself in a comfortable apartment in which two or three young men were writing at desks, one of whom, a dapper little fellow, dressed with as much precision and neatness as if he had just escaped from a bandbox, came towards me with a stern, forbidding look, and asked me what I wanted.

"I want to see the American consul."

"The consul is not in."

"When do you expect him?" I inquired, in a tone of disappointment.

"'Tis uncertain. He may not be here today."

"I am sorry, as I have some important business with him."

"What is your important business?" demanded the clerk, in an authoritative manner. "Perhaps I can attend to it."

"I am the young American sailor, who met with an accident on board the ship Packet, and was sent to the Infirmary. I have recently been discharged, and am in want of some articles of clothing, and particularly a pair of shoes. I also want to know if the consul has taken steps towards procuring me a passage to Boston"

"Very IMPORTANT business, truly!" replied the Englishman, with a sneer. "How does it happen that you are so poorly off for clothing?"

I explained the circumstances connected with the robbery of my chest by my shipmates.

"A likely story!" he exclaimed. "As to giving you a pair of shoes, my fine fellow, that is out of the question. When any step is taken towards sending you to the United States, you, or the man you board with, will hear of it." Saying this, the worthy representative of our government, after pointing significantly to the door, turned away and resumed his occupation at the desk. Disappointed and shocked at such a reception, I ventured to inquire if I should be able to see the consul on the following day.

"No," replied the clerk, abruptly, without raising his eyes from the desk; "neither tomorrow nor the day after."

I left the counting room, hobbled down the steps, and returned to my temporary home, feeling like "the Ancient Mariner," "a sadder and a wiser man!"



Chapter XVI. UNITED STATES CONSULS

Weeks passed, and I remained in Liverpool. I had called several times at the consulate, and each time met with the same ungracious reception. I could never see the consul, and began to regard him as a myth. I did not then know that every time I called he was seated at his comfortable desk in a room elegantly furnished, which was entered from the ante-room occupied by his clerks. Nor could I get any satisfactory information from the well-dressed Englishman, his head clerk. I ventured to ask that gentleman one day if Captain Bacon had not left money with Mr. Maury for my benefit. But he seemed astonished at my audacity in imagining the possibility of such a thing.

After the lapse of three weeks, a messenger came to my boarding house with directions for me to appear at the consulate the next morning at nine o'clock precisely. Full of hope, overjoyed that some change was about to take place in my destiny, I impatiently awaited the hour in which I was to present myself at the office of the American consul, hoping to have an interview with that dignitary. By this time I had thrown aside my crutches, and, although owing to the weakness of my fractured limb I limped as ungracefully as the swarthy deity who, after being kicked out of heaven, set up his blacksmith's shop in the Isle of Lemnos, I managed, with the aid of a stout cane, to pass through the streets without difficulty.

When I reached the counting room of the consul, I found the everlasting clerk at his post, as unfeeling, as authoritative, and haughty as ever. He addressed me at once as follows: "You will go directly to Queen's Dock; find the ship Lady Madison of New York, and put this letter into the hands of Captain Swain. He will give you a passage to New York, where you must take care of yourself. The ship will sail in a day or two. Be sure to be on board when the ship leaves the dock."

I regretted that a passage had not been provided in a vessel going directly to Boston. Ships were leaving Liverpool every day for that place. Nevertheless, I took the letter with a good grace, told the clerk I was rejoiced at such good news; that I was as much pleased at the idea of leaving Liverpool as he could possibly be at getting rid of my complaints. But I suggested that I was not in a condition to WORK MY PASSAGE as was proposed, at that inclement season, unless I was furnished with some additional clothing, a pea-jacket, a blanket, and a pair of boots or shoes; and I pointed to the shoes on my feet, which were little better than a pair of very shabby sandals.

The little deputy listened with impatience to my suggestions. He then wrote something on a slip of paper. "Here," said he, "is an order for a pair of shoes; and it is all you will get! A pea-jacket is out of the question; and as for blankets, I suppose you'll find enough on board. Captain Swain will take care of you. Your passage will not be a long one only thirty or forty days. I dare say you will live through it; if not, there will be no great loss!" And conscious that he had said a good thing, he looked at his fellow-clerks and smiled.

I felt indignant at such treatment, but wisely refrained from giving utterance to my feelings, and proceeded directly to the Queen's Dock, where I found Captain Swain, and handed him the letter. He read it, crumpled it up and put it in his pocket, and then stared fixedly at me, exclaiming, "Well, this is a pretty business! What does the consul mean by sending such a chap as YOU home in my ship? Are there not ships enough in port to take you home without singling out mine?"

To this question I could give no satisfactory answer, nor is it probable he expected one. After a further ebullition of wrath he honored me with another stare, surveyed me from head to foot, and with an air rather rude than polite, gruffly remarked, "Well, I suppose I must take you, and make the best of it. The ship will sail the day after tomorrow;" and he turned away, muttering something I could not distinctly hear, but which I suspect was not complimentary to myself or the American consul.

I returned to my boarding house, and gladdened the master and mistress with the intelligence that the consul had at last found a ship to take me to the united States. I packed in my chest the few articles my shipmates had considerately left me, not forgetting the pair of shoes which the mild-mannered and compassionate consular clerk had given me, and made my appearance, a most unwelcome guest, on the deck of the Lady Madison, as the ship was hauling out of dock. And thus, without articles of clothing necessary to supply my actual wants; without bed or bedding; destitute of "small stores," as tea, coffee, sugar, etc, which were not furnished the sailors, they receiving a certain sum of money instead and supplying themselves, deprived of the little comforts which even the most unthrifty seamen will provide on a passage across the Atlantic; the victim, not of imprudence or vice, but of misfortune; after a tedious and unnecessary delay, I was sent, a stranger, against whom the captain and officers were unjustly prejudiced, and, in a crippled condition, on board a ship to work my passage to my native land! And this was done by the orders and authority of a man who was bound by his official duties to render all necessary and reasonable relief to Americans in distress!

Were this a solitary instance of the kind I should hardly indulge in a passing remark. But I have reason to believe that such cases, caused by the inhumanity or culpable neglect of American consuls in foreign ports, are not uncommon. If such proceedings take place under the eye and authority and apparent sanction of a man of high character and acknowledged worth, what may we not expect from consuls of a different character; from men who never knew a noble impulse; whose bosoms never throbbed with one generous feeling?

Our government is not sufficiently circumspect in the appointment of consuls. The office is an important one, and should be given to men capable of faithfully executing the duties. It cannot be properly filled by persons whose time is engrossed by business of their own, by political partisans, or men who have no practical knowledge of mercantile affairs. American consuls should also be supposed to have some sympathy with every class of American citizens, and capable of enjoying satisfaction in relieving the sufferings of a fellow-creature. All consular fees should be abolished, and the consul should receive from the government a yearly compensation, graduated on the importance of his duties.

The Lady Madison was considered a large ship, being four hundred and fifty tons burden. She belonged to Jacob Barker, now a resident of New Orleans, but who was at that time in the zenith of his mercantile prosperity, and the owner of ships trading to all parts of the globe. Captain Swain was a native and resident of Nantucket, an excellent sailor and a worthy man; and the ship was navigated by a crew composed mostly of young and active Americans. The Lady Madison had sailed from Cronstadt bound to New York, but met with disasters which compelled her to put into Liverpool for repairs.

On joining the Lady Madison I found there was a very natural but unjust prejudice existing against me on the part of the officers, which it would be difficult to overcome. I was thrust on board by the consul against their wishes, and was entitled to ship room and ship's fare, which was reluctantly granted. I must, however, admit that my appearance, with a costume of the "Persian" cut, pale and sickly visage and a halting gait, an air of dejection caused by misfortune and diffidence, was not prepossessing, but verged strongly on the vagabond order. It is, therefore, not surprising that when I stepped on deck I was looked upon as an intruder, and instead of being greeted with smiles and words of encouragement, of which I was greatly in need, received looks which would have chilled an icicle, and frowns which made me feel all my insignificance.

I should probably have found little sympathy among the sailors had I not met among them an old acquaintance. A young man named Giddings, on hearing my name mentioned, regarded me with a degree of interest that surprised me. After staring at me a few minutes, he inquired if I had not once lived in Rockingham county, New Hampshire. On my replying in the affirmative, he introduced himself as an old schoolmate, a native of Exeter, from which, having chosen a sailor's life, he had been absent for years.

I rejoiced at finding a friend, and soon realized the truth of the good old proverb, "a friend in need is a friend indeed." Through his influence and representation the crew were disposed to look upon me in a favorable light. He gave me the privilege of using his berth and his blankets during my watch below; he loaned me a monkey jacket in stormy weather, and shared with me his "small stores," of which he had a good supply. More than all this, he encouraged me to keep a stout heart and "stiff upper lip," assuring me that all would come right in the end. Had it not been for that kind-hearted young man, my condition on board the ship must have been wretched. I have often witnessed the disgraceful fact, that when a man is DOWN every one seems determined TO KEEP HIM DOWN! If a poor fellow received a kick from fortune, every man he meets with will give him another kick for that very reason!

Captain Swain never deigned to notice me in any way, and the chief mate followed his example so far as was practicable. The second mate's name was Cathcart. He was man of inferior capacity, ignorant, and coarse. As I was looked upon as a sort of "black sheep" in the flock, and was in the second mate's watch, that officer imagined he could, with impunity, make me a target for his vulgar jokes, and practised on me a line of conduct which he dared not practice on others. A day or two after we left Liverpool, he took occasion, when several of the crew were standing by, to make my rather quaint NAME the subject of some offensive remarks. My indignation was roused at such ungentlemanly conduct, and I retorted with a degree of bitterness as well as imprudence that surprised myself as well as others.

"My name?" said I; "you object to MY name! Look at home! My name is a quiet name, a sensible name, surrounded with pleasant associations, and easily spoken, which is more than can be said of yours. Ca-a-th-ca-r-r-t! There is neither sense, meaning, nor beauty in that name. Why," continued I, making strange grimaces, "one cannot speak it without twisting the mouth into kinks and cuckold's necks without number. Ca-a-th-c-a-a-rt! I would sooner be called Tantarabogus."

This turned the laugh against him. He made no reply, but no longer annoyed me with his coarse jokes, and the respectable epithet of "Tantarabogus" stuck to him until our arrival in New York.

The ship Lady Madison left Liverpool about the 17th of March, 1812. The wind had been blowing a long time from the westward, with occasional gales which prevented vessels from getting to sea; and we sailed in company with a large fleet of merchant ships at the commencement of a change of wind. We left the Mersey with a fine breeze and soon passed the headmost vessels in the fleet. Our ship was large, a fine model, newly coppered, well provided with sails, and having left part of her cargo in Liverpool was in good ballast trim, and slipped through the water like a fish.

For eight days this easterly wind continued, the ship sometimes carrying top-gallant sails and a fore-topmast studding sail, and sometimes running directly before the wind under double-reefed topsails and foresail, progressing at the rate of ten, eleven, and eleven and a half knots. Chronometers were unknown in those days, and lunar observations, owing to the cloudy weather and other causes, could not be taken during the passage. It is, therefore, not remarkable that under the circumstances, and with a heavy sea following the ship, the judgment of the navigators was at fault and the ship overran her reckoning.

On the eighth day after the Lady Madison left the dock, the atmosphere being hazy and the temperature unusually cool, I was standing on the lee side of the forecastle when something afar off on the bow caught my eye. It looked like a massive fortress on a mountain rock of crystal. Its appearance, different from anything I had ever seen on the ocean, excited my wonder. Could it be a cloud? I pointed it out to one of my watchmates, who, being familiar with such appearances, instantly called out, "Ice, ho!"

There was a commotion throughout the ship. "Ice!" exclaimed the captain, rushing up the companion-way, spyglass in hand. "Ice! Where-away? 'Tis impossible! We cannot be near the Grand Bank!"

The ice island was now clearly perceptible, looming up through the thin fog, "a fixed fact," which could not be shaken. We were on the eastern edge of the Bank of Newfoundland. In eight days the ship had run nearly two thousand miles. Although this may not be considered a remarkable feat for a modern clipper of giant proportions, it was an instance of fast sailing and favorable breezes seldom exceeded in those days.

Had the wind continued unchanged in strength or direction after we reached the Bank, we should have made the passage to New York in twelve days. But its force was spent. Instead of feeling grateful and expressing satisfaction at such a noble run, the captain, and I believe every man on board, as is usual in such cases, grumbled intolerably when the change took place! Head winds and calms prevailed, and ten days elapsed before we greeted the highlands of Neversink. We passed inside of Sandy Hook on the 4th of April 1812, having made a passage of eighteen days from Liverpool to anchorage off the Battery!

While beating through the narrows we passed the ship Honestus, which sailed from Liverpool about forty days before the Lady Madison left that port, and had been battling with head winds the whole distance across the Atlantic.



Chapter XVII. ADRIFT IN NEW YORK

When the ship Lady Madison arrived in New York there was quite a stir among the mercantile community. Congress was engaged in important deliberations, and it was whispered, that in secret session, an embargo was about to be laid on American vessels in every port in the United States as a preparatory step to a declaration of war against Great Britain.

The passage of an "embargo act" was generally expected; but many persons, who had full faith in the more than Christian patience and forbearance of our government, believed there would be no war, notwithstanding the insults heaped upon American citizens, the piratical aggressions on our commerce, and the contumely and contempt in which our government and our flag, during a series of years, had been everywhere held by British authorities, as shown in the capture of the Chesapeake, and a multitude of kindred acts, each of which, as a knowledge of them travelled through the land, should have produced the effect of a "fiery cross," and kindled into a fierce and living flame every spark of patriotism existing in the bosoms of our countrymen.

There was great commotion on the wharves. "The embargo is coming," said one excited individual. "The act is already passed!" said another. Merchants were busy fitting away their ships to every quarter of the globe; the piers and wharves were lumbered with goods and produce of every description; the work was busily carried on night and day; fabulous prices were paid to laborers; in many cases the cargoes were thrown on board, tumbled into the hold, or piled on the decks, and the ship was "cleared" at the custom house, got under weigh, and anchored in the offing, where, beyond the jurisdiction of the United states, her stores and what remained of her cargo were SMUGGLED on board at leisure.

On reaching New York I again found myself in a strange city, without money or friends. I went with Giddings and some of his shipmates to a sailor boarding house in Dover Street, kept by a German named Hansen. At the recommendation of Giddings, the landlord received me, although with reluctance, as I had no visible means of paying for my board. Giddings and his friends shipped the following day for another voyage in the Lady Madison, which ship left the harbor for Liverpool on the evening previous to the reception of the news of the passage of the "embargo act," which, by some mysterious influence, had been strangely delayed. The Lady Madison remained at anchor, for at least a fortnight, nine or ten miles outside of Sandy Hook, when, having taken on board those portions of her cargo THAT HAD BEEN FORGOTTEN, SHE PROCEEDED ON HER VOYAGE.

My condition at this time furnished a striking contrast with my condition when I left Boston not five months before. Disappointment had laid on my spirits a heavy hand, and there were no particularly cheering scenes in perspective. I would gladly have returned to my home, there to have recovered the full use of my fractured limb before I embarked on any new enterprise. But I had no means of getting from New York to Boston, and through a feeling of pride, far from commendable, I was unwilling to make application to my relatives for pecuniary assistance. I did not even write to inform them of my return to the United States.

The question now came up, "What shall I do to improve my condition and gain a livelihood?" Lame as I was, I dared not undertake to ship in a square-rigged vessel, or even a "topsail schooner," where it might often be necessary to go aloft. I tried to get a berth in a coaster, or small vessel trading to the West Indies, where gymnastic feats would not be required. I applied to many skippers but without success. Even the proud captain of a rusty-looking old craft, that could hardly be kept afloat in the harbor, looked sour and sulky, and shook his head with as much significance as Lord Burleigh himself, when I inquired if he was in want of a hand! Either my looks were unpromising, or this class of vessels were well supplied with men. In the mean time my board bill was running up, and my landlord looked as grave as an oyster, and his manners were as rough as the outside of the shell.

Passing through Maiden Lane one day, I saw a gentleman whom I had formerly known, standing in the doorway of a bookstore. I had boarded in his family several weeks after my recovery from fever and ague. He, as well as his wife, at that time professed a strong interest in my prosperity. When I left them, and entered on my voyage to South America in the Clarissa, they bade me farewell with protestations of an affection as warm and enduring as if I had been a near and dear relative. It is therefore not wonderful that when I spied Mr. Robinson my heart yearned towards him. I had encountered a friend in that overgrown city; I saw a familiar face the first for many months. Without CALCULATING whether he could be of service to me, or whether it was proper to appear before him in apparel more remarkable for its antiquity and simplicity than its gentility, I obeyed the dictates of an honest heart, rushed towards him, and grasped his hand. Perceiving his astonishment, and that he was about to reprove my unauthorized familiarity, I mentioned my name.

"It is no wonder you don't recollect me," said I; "I have met with the rubbers, and must have greatly changed since you saw me last. Indeed, I am now rather hard up. Nothing to do, and not a cent in my pocket. It rejoices me to meet an old acquaintance."

The smile of recognition with which Robinson received the announcement of my name, vanished like a torch quenched in the ocean when he heard of my penniless condition. He nevertheless put a tolerably good face on the matter, invited me into his store, said he had lived in New York about nine months, asked me several commonplace questions, and at last, turning away as if he had more important business to attend to, desired me to drop in and see him occasionally.

Not dreaming that he would be otherwise than delighted to see me at his house, I bluntly asked him where he lived.

"O," said he, in a careless manner, "I LIVE away up in the Bowery, but my place of business is HERE; and when you have nothing better to do, give me a call, I shall always be glad to see you!"

And my cold-hearted, calculating friend, who feared I should make an appeal to his pockets, gave me quite a polite bow, and thus taught me a lesson in the fashionable accomplishment of bowing a troublesome acquaintance into the street!

A few days after this, as I was walking in Broadway, musing on my condition, and convinced of the truth of the saying that "there is no solitude so complete as in the midst of a great city," but firmly believing that something would soon "turn up," I saw on the sidewalk an elegant and costly breastpin, which must have belonged to a fashionable lady. I gladly seized the glittering prize and bore it away, exulting in my good fortune. Although I intended to spare no pains to find the owner, I trusted the incident might in some way contribute to my advantage. I showed the pin in triumph to the wife of my landlord, a shrewd woman, not over-scrupulous, and well skilled in the art of turning little events to her own profit, and explained the circumstances under which it came into my possession.

"This is indeed wonderful!" she exclaimed, holding up her hands. "How fortunate that you, of all persons, should have found this costly ornament! It belongs to Mrs. Johnson, a dear friend of mine, who lives just over the way! It must be it is the same. I know it. I have seen it a thousand times. She was here not five minutes ago, lamenting the loss of it. How overjoyed she will be when she knows it is found! I will send to her directly, and make her happy with the news."

Mrs. Hansen disappeared, leaving me, I am afraid, looking rather confounded at this singular and unexpected COINCIDENCE, and almost sorry that the owner of the pin had been so easily discovered. In a few minutes Mrs. Hansen returned, accompanied by "her dear friend," Mrs. Johnson, who, after examining the pin, said it was her own. She thanked me for having found it, was in raptures with her good fortune, declared she should never forget she was indebted to me, then in a business-like manner placed the rich ornament on her bosom, where it seemed as much out of place "as a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear," and hastily walked off with the prize before I could recover from my astonishment! I was a stranger to the ways of the world, and it did not occur to me, until years afterwards, that this was an IMPROMPTU comedy, ingeniously devised and skilfully performed by two capital actresses, for the purpose of swindling me out of the jewel!

A day or two after the adventure of the breastpin, my landlord represented to me, with much gravity, that I had been living with him above a fortnight, had not paid a cent towards my board, and, so far as he could see, there was no prospect that I ever would pay any. This state of things, I must be sensible, could not last forever.

I told him, in reply, that I was every day becoming more able to do a seaman's duty' that, as he well knew, I had tried to find a berth in a coaster, but none was to be had; that I was confident I should at some future time pay him, principal and interest, for all his expense and trouble, and he might rely on my promise.

Hansen rejoined, with a derisive smile, that it was not his custom to give credit, or rely upon promises; that I must find something to do, or he should be compelled to turn me out of his house! "Did you ever do any thing but go to sea?" he asked abruptly.

"O, yes," said I, "I was brought up on a farm, and understand all kinds of farming work."

"If that's the case," continued he, "your business is done. There are fine farms in Brooklyn, within sight of the ferry. All our best vegetables and fruit are raised on those farms. It is now the spring of the year, when farm laborers are wanted. You had better go over to Brooklyn and find work on a farm."

"That I'll do with pleasure," said I; "but I have no money to pay my fare over the ferry."

"Never mind, I'll lend you a couple of sixpences, and charge them in your account. You had better go tomorrow, and take the whole day before you." Accordingly on the following day I started for Long Island in quest of work as a day laborer on a farm.

At that time Brooklyn was not, as now, a large, populous, and thriving city. It was a small, sparsely-settled village; and the vast extent of land which is now laid out in streets and squares, and covered with costly edifices, was then improved for gardens, orchards, and farms. I landed from the ferry boat and took my way along the public highway which led towards the interior of the island. The rural aspect of a cultivated country, after having my view confined for many months to salt water and the unseemly masses of brick and mortar called cities, gladdened my heart; and I determined, in a spirit of true philosophy, to give vain cares and regrets to the wind, and pass one pleasant day in rambling about that agricultural district.

My efforts to obtain employment were not attended with success. My sailor costume, my pale features, and my constitutional diffidence, which has always been a drag in my efforts to press forward in the world, served me not as a letter of recommendation among the shrewd and money-making farmers and gardeners of Long Island. Indeed, to my mortification, I found that a blue jacket and loose trousers, when worn by a weather-beaten or bronzed-visaged wayfarer, were looked upon as PRIMA FACIE evidence that "he was no better than he should be." One of the farmers to whom I applied, after questioning me about my ability to work on a farm, came to the conclusion that he did not require any additional help; another wanted a hand, but I was not stout enough for his purpose; a third expressed a belief that I was an impostor, and knew nothing about farming work; and a fourth, after cross-questioning me until I felt assured he was satisfied with my character and capacity, graciously informed me I might stay a week or so on trial, and if I worked well perhaps he would give me my board through the summer! My case was a desperate one, and I might have acceded to his proposal if he had not unguardedly added that I should have to sleep in a cockloft in the shed! And thus I wandered about that part of the island the whole day, and returned to my boarding house towards dark, fatigued, hungry, and unsuccessful. I told Hansen the result of my day's labor. He looked disappointed and angry.

"You did not try!" said he. "I don't believe you said one word for yourself. There is one more shilling gone for nothing. But you must pretty quick find something to do."

The next day, when I returned home after my daily jaunt around the wharves in search of employment, Hansen met me with a smile, and introduced me to Stephen Schmidt, a thickset Dutchman, with little gray eyes, and capacious cheeks, of a color which proved he was a dear lover of schnapps. Schmidt claimed to be a native of Hudson; his ancestors were Dutch, and Dutch was the sole language of his early days. He had been several years employed in the North River sloops, but for the last six months had been in a coaster. Wearied of this kind of life and afraid of impressment, as his English pronunciation was strongly tinctured with the gutturals of a genuine Knickerbocker, and British ships-of-war swarmed along our coast, he had made up his mind to return to his home on the banks of the Hudson, and try his hand at cultivating cabbages and manufacturing SAUER KRAUT! A man was wanted in his place on board the coasting vessel and Hansen had persuaded Schmidt to use his influence with the captain to procure me the enviable situation.

I cared not a rush what kind of vessel this coaster was, whether old or new, bound on a cruise to New Orleans or Baffin's Bay; nor did I care whether the captain was a gentleman or a clown; a worthy man or an ignorant bully. I was anxious to obtain the vacant situation, and feared that the captain, following the fashion of the Long Island farmers, would not like the cut of my jib. I learned, however, that the schooner was a comfortable vessel, about a hundred tons burden, called the Mary, belonging to Newbern in North Carolina. The name of the captain was Thompson. The schooner was taking in cargo for Newbern, and would soon be ready for sea. Towards evening I accompanied Schmidt to the wharf where the Mary lay, and went on board, my bosom agitated with hopes and fears. The captain was on deck, a sturdy, rough-looking man. Schmidt went boldly up to him. "Captain Thompson," said he, "this is the man I spoke to you about this morning to take my place."

"This the man?" said the captain, abruptly. "Why, this is a boy! He's lame, too, and looks sickly. He will never do for me!"

It was time for me to speak; and I made a bold effort to overcome my diffidence. "Sir," said I, "a few months ago I had the misfortune to break my leg in Liverpool, and was sent home by the American consul. The limb is nearly well; but I don't feel able to ship in a square-rigged vessel. But, sir, I am in good health; I want employment; I can do as good a day's work as any man on board your schooner. You will find me active, industrious, and faithful. You may rely on it, sir, you will never have cause to repent giving me the berth."

Captain Thompson eyed me sharply a few moments without saying a word. After he had completed the examination of my person, he mildly inquired, "How much wages do you expect?"

"Whatever you may think I am worth, sir," said I. "I owe my landlord for three weeks board; but he will have to trust me for a part of it until I come back to New York. I am but poorly off for clothes, but that is of no consequence; summer is coming."

"You seem to be in a tight place, young man," said the kind-hearted captain. "Come on board with your rattletraps tomorrow. I'll soon find out what you are made of."

I returned home with a light heart, and rejoiced Hansen with the intelligence that I had become one of the crew of the Mary. I promised him every cent of my advance wages. With this he was obliged to be content, but declared his intention to keep my chest, my books, and other articles of trifling value, as security for the remainder of my board. To this I made no objection, thinking it reasonable enough. But Captain Thompson, the next day, when I received my half month's pay in advance, and informed him of my arrangements, called me a fool, and inveighed in bitter terms against the whole race of sailor landlords.

I took nothing with me on board the Mary but a change of clothing and a few articles of trifling value, packed in an old pillow case, loaned me by my landlady, with strict injunctions to return it if I ever came back to New York. I was overjoyed to think I had found employment, and could gain a subsistence by my own labors. I was sure of a home for a few weeks, until I should recover from the effects of my mishap, when I hoped to be above the necessity of asking favors.

The mate, whose name was Pierce, received me in a surly manner. He evidently thought Captain Thompson did a foolish act in shipping such "a useless piece of lumber" as myself. The crew, however, gave me a hearty reception, which placed me at my ease. I found the crew to consist of two young men, not much older than myself, and a negro boy. The two men were swarthy sons of North Carolina, born near Cape Hatteras; good-hearted, ignorant, lazy, careless fellows, who liked good living and clear comfort better than hard work. The cook was of the genuine African type; and when not employed in serious work about the camboose, was throwing off the exuberance of his good humor in peals of laughter. Taken together, they were a set of jolly fellows, and I rejoiced that my lot was cast among them. My spirits, which had been below zero for some time, in spite of my philosophy, took a sudden rise immediately, notwithstanding the sullen humor of the mate, who, like Cassius, had "a lean and hungry look," and never even indulged in a smile. He manifested a singular antipathy towards me in all his acts.

Some animals seem to have a bitter hatred against those of their own kind which are the victims of accident or misfortune. A wolf, wounded by hunters, is torn in pieces by the pack; and a porpoise, if struck and mangled by a harpoon, is pursued by the whole shoal, and put to death without mercy. We sometimes find human beings possessed of such savage attributes. They pay court to wealth and power, but when they find a fellow-being stricken to the earth by misfortune or sickness, imbibe a prejudice against him, and instead of stretching forth a kind and open hand to relieve, will be more likely to shake a clinched fist in his face.



Chapter XVIII. SCHOONER MARY OF NEWBERN

We cast loose from the wharf the following day, about the 20th of April, 1812, and proceeded down the harbor. But the wind coming from the eastward, we anchored above the Narrows. I was soon convinced that Captain Thompson was no driver. Although originally a Massachusetts man, he had lived long enough in southern climates to acquire indolent habits. When the wind was ahead, if on anchorage ground, he would let go an anchor, rather than take the trouble of beating to windward for what he considered the trifling object of saving a day or two in the passage! "Have patience and the wind will change," was his motto. He was not the only shipmaster I have met with who was in the habit of looking after his own comfort as well as the interest of his employer.

The wind was favorable the next day, and we glided past Sandy Hook and entered on the broad ocean. Away we went to the southward with the wind abeam, blowing a strong breeze from the westward. The captain took the helm, and all hands were employed in clearing the decks and putting things in order; Mr. Pierce being particularly active in the work, saying but little, and looking unusually solemn.

I was on the weather side of the main deck, securing the lashings of the long-boat, when I heard a splash in the water to leeward; at the same moment the cook shouted out, with all the power of his African lungs, "Goramity! Mr. Pierce is fell overboard!"

"The mate is overboard! The mate is overboard!" was now the cry from every mouth.

"Hard-a-lee!" screamed the skipper, and at the same instant executed the order himself by jamming the tiller hard down to leeward. "Haul the fore sheet to windward! Clear away the long-boat! Be handy, lads! We'll save the poor fellow yet."

And then the captain shouted to the unfortunate man, as he was seen not far off in the wake, "Be of good cheer! Keep your head up! No danger! We'll soon be alongside!"

I seized the cook's axe and cut away the lashings of the boat, and in a space of time incredibly brief, the boat was lifted from the chocks by main strength and launched over the side. We were about to shove off to the struggling mate, when Captain Thompson, who had not taken his eyes from the man after he had fallen overboard, and kept making signs and giving him words of encouragement, exclaimed, in a mournful tone, "Avast there with the boat! 'Tis no use. He's gone he's sunk, and out of sight. We shall never see him again! Poor fellow poor fellow! May the Lord have mercy on him!"

It appeared that Mr. Pierce had stepped on the lee gunwale for the purpose of grasping a rope that was loose. His left hand was on one of the main shrouds, when a sudden lurch disengaged his grasp and precipitated him into the water. He was not a hundred yards from the schooner when he disappeared. Whether his body struck against the side of the vessel as he fell and he was thus deprived of the full use of his limbs, whether he was panic-struck at the fate which appeared to await him, or unable to swim, we could never learn. The simple, solemn fact, however, was before us in all its terrible significance. The man who, a few moments before, stood on the deck of the Schooner Mary, strong, healthy, and in the meridian of life, was no longer with us. He was removed without warning; buried in the depths of the ocean; cut off by some mysterious agency, "And sent to his account With all his imperfections on his head."

Soon after this sad accident, when we had taken in the long-boat, trimmed the sails, and were pursuing our way towards Cape Hatteras, the captain, with a solemn look, called me to the helm and went into the cabin, where he undoubtedly found consolation in the embrace of an intimate but treacherous friend. Indeed, on his return to the deck, a few minutes afterwards, I had olfactory demonstration that he and the brandy bottle had been in close communion! Captain Thompson had hardly spoken to me since we left the wharf in New York. He had now got his "talking tacks" on board, and was sociable enough.

"Hawser," said he, with a sigh, "this is a serious and sad thing, this death of poor Pierce. It might be your fate or mine at any time as easily as his. He was just from Liverpool, having been shipwrecked on the English coast, and on his way home to Washington, expecting to see his wife and children in a few days. Poor fellow! This will be a terrible blow to his family and friends. His fate, so sudden, is enough to make any man who IS a man, think seriously of his 'better end' of what may become of him hereafter!" He clinched this remark, which he delivered with much energy, with an oath that almost made my hair stand on end, and struck me at the time as being singularly out of place in that connection.

With another deep-drawn sigh he dismissed the subject, and did not again allude to it. He spoke of the "embargo act," of various ingenious modes of evading it, and of the prospect of a war with England; and made some assertion in relation to proceedings in Congress, which, in a respectful manner, but to his great astonishment, I ventured to dispute on the authority of a paragraph I had seen in a New York newspaper a few days before. The captain, after gravely staring me in the face a moment, as much as to say, "What do YOU know about newspapers or politics?" inquired the name of the newspaper I was talking about.

I mentioned the name of the paper. "Well," said he, "I have that paper, with others, in a bundle in the cabin so that matter can be soon settled."

Down he went into the cabin, leaving me not a little alarmed at his conduct. Thinks I to myself, "Can he be offended because a vagabond like myself has dared to differ with him on a question of fact?"

He soon appeared on deck with a large bundle of newspapers, which he put into my hands, at the same time taking possession of the tiller. "There," said he, "find the newspaper you were speaking of and pick out the paragraph, IF YOU CAN."

From my earliest boyhood I had manifested a strong attachment for newspapers. It may have been that, not finding other means to gratify my thirst for reading, I read every newspaper that came in my way; and as I was blessed with a good memory, I always kept tolerably well posted in regard to the current news of the day. I opened the bundle and promptly singled out the newspaper in question, and pointing to a paragraph with my finger, said, "There, sir, you may see for yourself."

The captain seemed astonished. He did not take the paper from my hands. "My eyes," said he, "are not good; they are weak, and it troubles me to read. Let me hear YOU read it."

I read the paragraph accordingly. The captain, meanwhile, fixed his eyes, which exhibited no signs of weakness, upon me with an earnest expression. When I finished reading, he nodded his head and mused a few moments in silence, then hastily surrendered the tiller, bundled up the newspapers, and vanished down the companion-way.

"What does this bode?" thought I to myself. "The man is evidently angry. I acted like a fool to question anything he said, however absurd." I did Captain Thompson injustice. He was not long absent, but soon came up the steps, bringing a sack-bottomed chair in one hand and a suspicious-looking pamphlet in the other. He placed the chair in front of the tiller.

"Hawser," said he, "sit down in that chair, and take this pamphlet, which is one of the most wonderful books that was ever laid before a wicked world. The author shows by figures, facts, and calculations that the world will be destroyed on the 12th of June. Good Lord! The time is close at hand. I have not read the book; my eyes trouble me too much besides, I have not had time. But I have heard much about it, and received orders, when I left Newbern for New York to bring back a dozen copies to enlighten the poor creatures on their fate. Sit right down, Hawser, I tell you, and go to work. I'll steer the schooner while you read."

I obeyed orders, as was my custom; and a curious picture we must have presented, the captain steering the schooner and listening with greedy ears to every word which fell from my lips, as, seated directly fronting him, my back supported by the binnacle, I read in a clear and distinct voice, and with due emphasis, the crude absurdities of a crack-brained religious enthusiast.

This "wonderful pamphlet" was written by a man named Cochran, a resident of Richmond, in Virginia, who, after poring over the Book of Revelation for years, convinced himself that he had obtained a clew to the mysteries contained in the writings of St. John.

After satisfying himself, as he said, beyond question of the correctness of his views, he published his pamphlet of some thirty or forty pages, notifying the public of the terrible fact that the day of judgment was at hand; and predicting the day, and suggesting the hour, when the world would come to an end! He even went so far as to describe the scene of destruction, when all the elements would be put in motion to destroy mankind, when volcanoes would deluge the land with liquid fire, and earthquakes shake and shatter the world to its centre!

Cochran claimed to PROVE all this by his interpretation of the Book of Revelation; by labored calculations based upon arithmetical principles, and algebraic formulae until then unknown, but which appeared mystical and appalling from the fact that they were incomprehensible. The book was written in a style well calculated to perplex, astonish, or terrify the readers, especially those who were not well stocked with intelligence. It is therefore not remarkable that it caused a commotion wherever it was circulated. The judgment day was the topic of discourse and persons of ungodly lives and conversation were led to think seriously of the error of their ways.

I read the pamphlet through, from title page to "finis," calculations, figures, and all; and no reader ever had a more attentive listener. Captain Thompson took the book in his hand after I had got through, and gazed upon it attentively.

"Well," said he, "this beats cock fighting! The man keeps a good log; works out his case like a sailing master; and proves it by alphabetic signs and logarithms, as clear as a problem in plain sailing. This is a great book; a tremendous book! I wish I had two hundred copies to distribute among the poor, ignorant heathens at Newbern and Portsmouth. Won't it make the folks stare like bewildered porpoises! Are you tired of reading, Hawser?"

"No, sir. I will read as long as you wish."

"Well, if that's the case, I'll bring up the Bible from the cabin, and you may wind up with one or two of the chapters in Revelation, which are referred to in the pamphlet."

The Bible was brought up, and I read to his great gratification until about six o'clock, when the supper hour put a stop to our literary and biblical pursuits. But the following day, the day after, every day, I had to read that doomsday pamphlet whenever it was my turn to take the helm, and frequently a chapter in the Bible besides.

One morning, as we were slowly moving along with a light breeze, on soundings between Cape Henry and Cape Hatteras, a large loggerhead turtle was seen a short distance to windward, motionless, and apparently asleep on the water. This caused quite a sensation; every man was on deck in a moment. The schooner was hove to, preparations were making to launch the boat, and the captain was loudly calling for his GIG, a species of three-pronged harpoon for striking small fish, when one of the crew, named Church, remonstrated against this mode of proceeding.

"Hold on, captain," said he, "or you will lose the lovely crittur. If you go near him in a boat he will open his peepers and vanish as suddenly as an evil spirit sprinkled with holy water But I know a trick to take him that cannot fail. Let me have my own way, and I'll catch that lazy, lubberly chap, and bring him alongside, man fashion, in no time!"

Church, while making this appeal, had been hastily divesting himself of his garments, and by the time he finished his remarks, stood, EN CUERPO, on the gunwale.

"Go ahead, my lad!" said the captain. "But if you let that turtle slip through your fingers, don't you ever come back to the schooner."

Church grinned, let himself gently into the water, and paddled away noiselessly and swiftly towards the unsuspicious reptile, who was lazily snoozing in midday, without dreaming of danger. The sailor approached him warily from behind; and when sufficiently near, grabbed the astonished animal by the stern flippers, and exclaimed, "Hurrah, the day's our own, boys! Captain, I've got a prize. Run up the stripes and stars. Turtle steaks forever! Victory, hurrah!"

The turtle, although taken at disadvantage, did not at once "give up the ship." He struggled manfully for that liberty which is the birthright of every living creature, and made a desperate attempt to go down, knowing intuitively that his captor would not dare follow him to the depths below. But whenever he attempted to dive, Church threw the whole weight of his body on the stern flippers, and thus prevented him from executing that maneuver. After being foiled in this manner two or three times his turtleship seemed disposed to abandon this mode of proceeding, and tried to paddle off with his forward flippers, as if to escape from the incumbrance. Church was now in his glory. By PULLING one hind flipper and PUSHING the other he could guide the reptile in whatever direction he pleased, and soon navigated him alongside the schooner, when a rope was hospitably put around the neck of the captive, and he was hauled on board.

Passing around Cape Hatteras, between the outer shoals and the land, we arrived at Ocracoke Inlet. The wind being ahead, we were unable to cross the bar, but remained two or three days at anchor in its immediate vicinity. Ocracoke Inlet is the main entrance into Pamlico Sound, a large inlet or body of water, some eighty miles long, separated from the sea by low sandy islands, mostly inhabited. On this Sound are situated some thriving towns, and into it the rivers Tar and Neuse empty their waters. The little town or village of Portsmouth is situated on an island in the immediate vicinity of Ocracoke Inlet. The inhabitants, or those who at that time deigned to pursue any regular occupation, were for the most part engaged in fishing and piloting. The sand banks, shoals, and flats in that neighborhood furnish admirable facilities for seine fisheries, and enormous quantities of mullets were taken every year on those sandy shores, packed in barrels, and sent to the West Indies.

There was also at that time carried on with considerable success, a porpoise fishery, after a fashion peculiar, I believe, to that part of the world. Porpoises often made their appearance very near the coast, in shoals not "schools," for porpoises are uneducated some hundreds in number. They were surrounded by boats and driven into shallow water. When sufficiently near the land, a strong seine was cautiously drawn around them and they were slowly but surely dragged to the beach; the blubber was stripped from their carcasses and converted into oil. Sometimes a shark was found in their company, who, disdaining to be so easily subdued, performed wondrous feats of strength and ferocity, biting and maiming the inoffensive porpoises without mercy, and in most cases rending the seine by his enormous power, and escaping from his persecutors.

When lying at Ocracoke, waiting for a chance over "the Swash," the crew of the Mary having little to do, were generally engaged in looking after their physical comforts by laying in a stock of shell-fish. Oysters were found in abundance all along shore, and of excellent quality; also the large clam known as the QUAHAUG, which when properly cooked and divested of its toughness is capital food; crabs, of delicate flavor and respectable size, were taken in hand-nets in any quantity; and flounders, mullets, and drum-fish were captured with little trouble. Ducks and teal, and other kinds of water fowl, abounded in the creeks and coves.

The staple articles of food on board the Mary consisted of corn meal, molasses, Carolina hams and middlings, with sweet lard and salt pork, in unstinted quantities. As a drink, instead of Oriental tea and West India or manufactured coffee, we were supplied with the decoction of an herb found in the woods or swamps of the Carolinas, and generally known as YAUPON TEA. It was at first insipid, if not unpalatable, but improved greatly on a more intimate acquaintance.