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.