The afternoon of the day on which we arrived in Savannah, after the
vessel was secured to the wharf, and the decks put in proper condition,
the four half-starved individuals, composing the crew of the schooner
John, gayly stepped ashore, and proceeded in quest of some wholesome and
palatable food. Our pockets were not well lined, and we sought not for
luxuries; but we yearned for a good, full meal, which would satisfy our
appetite a blessing we had not enjoyed for several weeks.
After passing through a couple of streets, we came to a humble but
neat-looking dwelling house, with an apology for a garden in front.
Tables and seats were arranged beneath some trees; "spruce beer" was
advertised for sale, but there were indications that other kinds of
refreshments could be obtained. The place wore a comfortable aspect.
We nodded smilingly to each other, as much as to say, "This will do!"
entered the gateway, which stood invitingly open, and took seats at a
table.
Eastman, who was a native of New Hampshire, had resided many years on
a farm, and knew what was good living, inquired boldly of the master of
the establishment if he could furnish each of us with a capacious bowl
of bread and milk. The man replied that he could. On inquiring the
price, we found, to our great joy, that it was within our means. He was
told to bring it along; and in a few minutes, which seemed an age, the
bread and milk were placed before us.
The milk was cool, and of good quality. The bread was in the form of
rolls, newly baked, and manufactured of the finest flour. The aspect of
these "refreshments" was of the most tempting character! To our excited
imaginations, they equalled the nectar and ambrosia which furnished
the feasts on Mount Olympus. We did not tarry long to gaze upon their
beauties, or contemplate their excellence. Each one broke a roll
into his basin of milk, seized a spoon, and without speaking a word,
commenced operations with exemplary energy, with cheeks glowing with
excitement, and eyes glistening with pleasure; while our good-natured
host gazed in wonder on our proceedings, and grinned approbation!
Our gratification was complete. We returned to the schooner in better
spirits and in better health, after having partaken of this invigorating
meal; and although I have since dined with epicures, and been regaled
with delicious food prepared in the most artistic style, I never tasted
a dish which seemed so grateful to my palate, which so completely
suffused my whole physical system with gratification bordering on
ecstasy, as that humble bowl of bread and milk in Savannah.
The schooner having been seized by the government for unlawful
transactions, the crew were compelled to wait until the trial took
place before they could receive the wages due for their services. If the
vessel should not be condemned, they were to look to Captain Turner for
their pay. But on the other hand, if the vessel should be confiscated,
the United States authorities would be obliged to pay the wages due at
the time the seizure took place. In the mean time we were furnished with
board, such as it was, and lodging in the schooner, and awaited with
impatience the result of the trial.
Captain Turner, being a shrewd business man, was not idle during this
intermission. Having reasons to believe his vessel would be condemned,
he resolved that the government authorities should obtain possession of
nothing more than the bare hull and spars. Under cover of the night he
stripped the schooner of the cables and anchors, the running rigging,
the spare spars, water casks, boats, sails, cabin furniture, blocks,
compasses, and handspikes. The government got "a hard bargain," when the
naked hull of this old worn-out craft came into their hands.
One beautiful morning while lying at the wharf in Savannah, two barges,
each having its stern-seats occupied by three well-dressed gentlemen,
looking as serious and determined as if bent on some important business,
left the landing place astern of the schooner, and proceeded rapidly
down the river. A throng of inquisitive observers, who knew the nature
of their errand, collected ere they started from the wharf, and gazed
intently on the boats until the intervening marshes concealed them from
view.
These gentlemen were to act as principals, seconds, and surgeons, in
a duel for which all proper arrangements had been made. At a ball the
evening before, a dispute had arisen between two high-spirited youths,
connected with highly-respectable families, in relation to the right of
dancing with a beautiful girl, the belle of the ball-room. Irritating
and insulting language was indulged in by both parties; a challenge was
given and promptly accepted. They proceeded in the way I have related to
the South Carolina bank of the river, there to settle the controversy
by gunpowder logic, and shoot at each other until one or both parties
should be fully satisfied.
Having seen the duellists fairly embarked, I felt a deep interest in the
result, and eagerly watched for the return of the barges. In the course
of little more than an hour, one of the boats was seen ascending the
river, and rapidly approached the wharf. One of the principals, followed
by his friend, stepped ashore with a triumphant air, as if he had done
a noble deed, and walked up the wharf. But no satisfactory information
could be obtained respecting the result of the duel.
In about half a hour the other boat made its appearance. It moved slowly
along, propelled by only a couple of oars. The reason for this was soon
explained by the sight of a man, extended on the thwarts, and writhing
with pain. This proved to be one of the duellists, who was shot in the
groin at the second fire, and dangerously wounded. The boat reached the
landing place, and the surgeon and the second both went up the wharf in
search of some means of transporting the unfortunate man to his home.
Meanwhile he lay upon his rude couch exposed to the nearly vertical rays
of the sun; his only attendant a negro, who brushed away the flies which
annoyed him. His features were of a deadly pallor; he breathed with
difficulty, and appeared to suffer much from pain.
Some ten or fifteen minutes elapsed ere the friends of the wounded man
returned, bringing a litter, mattress, and bearers. He was too ill to
be conveyed through the streets in a coach. A mournful procession was
formed, and he was thus carried, in a bleeding and dying condition, to
his relatives, a mother and sisters, from whom he had parted a few hours
before, in all the strength and vigor of early manhood.
As I gazed upon this wounded man, the absurdity of the custom of
duelling, as practised among civilized nations, struck me in all its
force. One scene like this, taken in connection with the attendant
circumstances, is more convincing than volumes of logic, or a thousand
homilies. For a few hasty words, exchanged in a moment of anger, two
men, instructed in the precepts of the Christian religion, professing
to be guided by true principles of honesty and honor, who had ever borne
high characters for worth, and perhaps, IN CONSEQUENCE of the elevated
position they hold among respectable men, meet by appointment in a
secluded spot, and proceed in the most deliberate manner to take each
other's lives to commit MURDER a crime of the most fearful magnitude
known among nations, and denounced as such by the laws of man and the
laws of God.
In due time the fate of the schooner John was decided. The vessel was
condemned, and the crew received notice to bring in their bills for
the amount of wages due. Captain Turner kindly offered to make out my
account, and shortly afterwards handed me my bill against the United
States government for services on board, the amount of which overwhelmed
me with astonishment.
"There is surely a mistake in this bill, sir," said I; "the amount is
far more than I am entitled to. You forget I shipped for only fifteen
dollars a month, and including my advanced month's pay, I have already
received a considerable portion of my wages."
"I forget nothing of the kind, Hawser," replied the captain, with a
benevolent smile. "You may just as well receive fifty dollars as five
and twenty. The government will be none the poorer for it."
"But, sir, will it be RIGHT for me to carry in an account so greatly
exceeding in amount what is my due?"
"My lad," replied the captain, a little embarrassed, "You must not be
so scrupulous in these trifling matters, or you will never make your way
through the world at any rate you will never do for a sailor. The
rest of the men make no objections to putting a little money in their
pockets, and why should YOU? Even Mr. Adams, the mate, will receive
double the amount of money which rightfully belongs to him!"
"But, sir," I replied, greatly shocked at this intelligence, and my
features undoubtedly expressed my abhorrence of this strange system of
ethics, "do you expect me to go before a magistrate and take a solemn
oath that the account you have jut put into my hands is a just and true
one? You surely would not ADVISE me to commit such a crime!"
The captain's face glowed like a firebrand, and his eyes sparkled with
wrath, as he loudly exclaimed, "What difference does it make to you, you
ungrateful cur, whether the account is true or false, so long as you get
your money? Bring none of your squeamish objections here. Either take
the account as I have made it out, and swear to it, without flinching,
or"--and here he swore an oath too revolting to transcribe "not a cent
of money shall you receive."
He stepped ashore, and walked with rapid strides up the wharf. I went
forward, and seating myself on the windlass, burst into tears!
It struck me as hard and unjust that I should be deprived of my
well-earned wages, unless on condition of committing an unworthy act,
at which my soul revolted. My decision, however, was taken. Although
the loss of my money would have subjected me to inconvenience perhaps
distress I resolved to submit to any ills which poverty might inflict,
rather than comply with the wishes and advice of this unprincipled man,
who should have acted towards me as a faithful monitor and guide.
I remained in this disconsolate condition for about an hour, when
Captain Turner returned on board. As he stepped leisurely over the
gangway, he greeted me with a benignant smile, and beckoned me to the
quarter deck.
"Well, Hawser," said he in his blandest manner, as if he sought to atone
for his coarse language and dishonorable conduct a short time before,
"so you refuse to do as others do take a false oath? You are too
sanctimonious by half, and you will find it out some day. You are an
obstinate little fool, but may do as you like. Here is another paper;
look over it, and see if it will suit you."
I opened the paper; it was a true statement of my claim against the
government for wages. In the course of the day, the ship's company
proceeded in a body to the office of the government agent, swore to our
several accounts, and received our money.
The amount which fell to my share was not large. I purchased some
clothes, paid a few trifling debts that I had contracted while subjected
to the "law's delay," which Shakespeare, a keen observer of men and
manners, classes among the most grievous of human ills, and had a few
dollars left.
After my experience of a sailor's life, after the treatment I had
received, the miserable fare on which I had barely existed during a
portion of the time, and the disgusting specimen of nautical morality I
had met with in Captain Turner, it will not be considered surprising
if my views of a sailor's life had been a little changed during my last
voyage. I entertained some doubts whether "going to sea," instead of
being all poetry and romance, was not rather a PROSY affair, after all;
and I more than once asked myself if a young man, of correct deportment
and industrious habits, who could find some good and respectable
business on shore, would not be a consummate fool to "go to sea." I
deliberated anxiously on the subject, and finally determined to return
to my home in New Hampshire, and visit my friends before I undertook
another voyage.
The schooner Lydia, of Barnstable, commanded by Captain Burgess, an
honest, noble-hearted son of Cape Cod, was the only vessel in Savannah
at that time bound for Boston. I explained to him my situation, told him
I was anxious to get home, and asked as a favor that he would allow me
to work my passage to Boston.
He replied that he had a full crew for his vessel, even more hands than
could be properly accommodated below, as the cabin and steerage were
both encumbered with bales of cotton. But if I was willing to sleep
on deck, and assist in working ship and doing other duty, he would
cheerfully give me a passage. I accepted his offer on these conditions,
and thanked him into the bargain.
We left Savannah on our way to Boston. My heart beat quicker at the idea
of returning home. The wind proved light and baffling on the passage,
and as we drew towards the north, the weather was foggy with drizzling
rains. My quarters on deck, under the lee of a bale of cotton, were
any thing but comfortable. I often awoke when the watch was called,
shivering with cold, and found it difficult, without an unusual quantity
of exercise, to recover a tolerable degree of warmth.
I uttered no complaints, but bore this continual exposure, night and
day, and other inconveniences, with a philosophical spirit, conceiving
them to be a part of the compact. If the passage had only been of
moderate length, I should, in all likelihood, have reached Boston in
good health; but nineteen days had passed away when we sailed through
the Vineyard Sound, and anchored in the harbor of Hyannis, on the third
of July, 1810.
Some days before we reached Hyannis, I found myself gradually losing
strength. I was visited with occasional fits of shivering, succeeded by
fever heats. But on the morning of the glorious Fourth, I felt my whole
system renovated at the idea of celebrating "Independence Day" on shore.
The captain and mate of the Lydia both belonged to Barnstable, where
their families resided. They both left the schooner for their homes as
soon as the anchor reached the bottom, boldly predicting head winds
or calms for at least thirty-six hours, at the end of which time they
calculated to rejoin the schooner.
On the morning of the fourth, the crew, to a man, followed the example
of our trustworthy officers, and determined to have a jovial time on
shore. We left the good schooner Lydia soberly riding at anchor, to take
care of herself. There were several other vessels in the harbor, all of
which were deserted in the same manner. Not a living animal was to be
found in the whole fleet. After passing weeks at sea, the temptation to
tread the firm earth, and participate in a Fourth of July frolic, was
too strong to be resisted.
Hyannis was then quite a humble village with a profusion of salt works.
Farm houses were thinly scattered around, and comfort seemed inscribed
on every dwelling. There seemed to be an abundance of people moving
about on that day; where they came from was a problem I could not solve.
Every one seemed pleased and happy, and, with commendable patriotism,
resolved to enjoy Independence Day. The young men were neatly
apparelled, and bent on having a joyous time; and the girls Cape Cod
girls, ever renowned for beauty and worth gayly decked out with smiles,
and dimples, and ribbons, ready for a Fourth of July frolic, dazzled the
eyes of the beholders, and threw a magic charm over the scene.
And a frolic they had; fiddling, dancing, fun, and patriotism was the
order of the day. In the evening, however, the entertainments were
varied by the delivery of a sermon and other religious exercises in the
school-house by a young Baptist clergyman, who subsequently became well
known for his praiseworthy and successful efforts to reduce the rates on
postage in the United States. This good man accomplished the great work
of his life and died. A simple monument is erected to his memory at
Mount Auburn, with no more than these words of inscription:
"BARNABAS BATES,
FATHER OF CHEAP POSTAGE."
Hardly a person visits that consecrated ground who has not reaped
enjoyment from the labors of that man's life. And as the simple
epitaph meets the eye, and is read in an audible tone, the heart-felt
invocation, "Blessings on his memory!" is his oft-repeated elegy.
It was about nine o'clock in the evening when the crew returned to
the schooner. After we gained the deck I was seized with an unpleasant
sensation. A sudden chill seemed to congeal the blood in my veins; my
teeth chattered, and my frame shook with alarming violence. After the
lapse of about thirty minutes the chills gave place to an attack of
fever, which, in an hour or two, also disappeared, leaving me in a weak
and wretched condition. This proved to be a case of intermittent fever,
or FEVER AND AGUE, a distressing malady, but little known in New England
in modern times, although by no means a stranger to the early settlers.
It was fastened upon me with a rough and tenacious grasp, by the damp,
foggy, chilly atmosphere in which I had constantly lived for the last
fortnight.
Next morning, in good season, the captain and mate were on board. The
wind was fair, and we got under weigh doubled Cape Cod, and arrived
alongside the T Wharf in Boston, after a tedious and uncomfortable
passage of twenty-two days from Savannah.
I left my home a healthy-looking boy, with buoyant spirits, a bright
eye, and features beaming with hope. A year had passed, and I stood
on the wharf in Boston, a slender stripling, with a pale and sallow
complexion, a frame attenuated by disease, and a spirit oppressed by
disappointment. The same day I deposited my chest in a packet bound to
Portsmouth, tied up a few trifling articles in a handkerchief, shook
hands with the worthy Captain Burgess, his mate and kind-hearted crew,
and with fifteen silver dollars in my pocket, wended my way to the stage
tavern in Ann Street, and made arrangements for a speedy journey to my
home in Rockingham County, New Hampshire.