I passed nearly three weeks in Savannah at Jim Hubbard's boarding
house, mingling freely with the different characters who frequented that
establishment, making my observations on men and things; and if at times
I felt humiliated and uncomfortable, I solaced myself by the reflection
that my sojourn in that place would be brief, and in the mean time
would open to my inspection a new chapter in the book of life; and being
constitutionally of a hopeful disposition, and seldom troubled with
despondency, instead of suffering my thoughts to dwell on present
perplexities, I looked forward to more prosperous scenes and happier
times.
At length I found an opportunity to quit Savannah, of which I shall
ever retain a vivid recollection, by shipping before the mast in a good
wholesome-looking brig, known as the Joseph, of Boston, and bound to
Gottenburg, with a cargo of tobacco.
The name of the brig was not a very attractive one, but I had learned
long before that the names of merchant vessels, being bestowed according
to the taste, fancy, or whim of the owner, should never be regarded as
indicative of character, any more than the names of individuals. The
first vessel I sailed in, although named after the most beautiful and
swift fish that swims the ocean, the dolphin, was one of the ugliest and
dullest sailing crafts that ever floated on salt water.
Some ship-owners have a great partiality to animals; hence we find noble
ships bearing the names of creatures of every description, from the
most ferocious beast to the most unsightly reptile. Other ships carry
on their sterns the names of heroes and heroines, gods and goddesses;
satyrs, nymphs, civilians, poets, artists, statesmen, and demagogues; of
kings, warriors, buccaneers, philanthropists, and brigands. It is thus
we count among our ships a Hercules and a Joan of Arc; with Apollos,
Minervas, Canovas, Hogarths, John Howards, and Robin Hoods, with a dense
sprinkling of Mammoths and Mosquitoes, Tigers and Humming Birds, Whales
and Butterflies, Nondescripts, Demons, volcanoes and Icebergs.
Some names of ships are ingenious and quaint, others commonplace or
ridiculous; some are expressed in a phrase consisting of a few words,
others in a word of one syllable, and sometimes of one letter. Thus we
have the INO, and the GUESS; awkward names to repeat when asked, "What
is the name of that ship?" and the "Catch me if you can," and the
"What d'ye think 'tis like?" which, by their respective godfathers,
are thought to be extremely witty. Thus, we have the "Ay, ay, sir," the
"Tom," the "A No. 1," the "Tallyho," and the "W."
During the last war with Great Britain two privateers were built by
the same individuals, and were intended to cruise in company; they were
called the "United we stand," and the "Divided we fall." A number of
years since, three large and elegant ships constituted a line of English
packets between Liverpool and Charleston, in South Carolina. They were,
with commendable taste, named after three celebrated poems by three
distinguished British poets, the "Lalla Rookh," the "Corsair," and
"Marmion." An opulent merchant in Rhode Island, having been repeatedly
disappointed in his wish to have a male descendant, although he was the
father of half a dozen cherry-cheeked GIRLS, gave the name of "Boy" to
a ship of his, which was launched a few weeks after the birth of his
youngest daughter. This ship was a fortunate one, and a great favorite
of the owner, but never arrived at man's estate, continuing "a boy" to
the end of the chapter.
Some ship-owners give to their vessels names of individuals
distinguished for talent or worth, or who have served their country
nobly by sea or by land. Some bestow on their ships those names that
are dearest to them; those of their sweethearts, their wives, their
children, brethren, sisters, or friends, as the case may be. Thus we
have the "Three sons," "Ten Brothers," "Four Sisters," "Sally Anne,"
"Aunt Hitty," and "Huldah and Judy;" and thus we may account for the
euphonious name of a vessel, once belonging to Windsor, in Virginia, the
"Jonathan Jacocks."
Some years ago two Boston merchants were engaged in building a ship
for the freighting business. When finished, there was a difference of
opinion in regard to the selection of a name. One proposed the name of
a distinguished southern statesman, Mr. Poinsett; the other, an old
shipmaster, remonstrated against giving the ship the name of any living
person; and he carried his point. "The man you mention," said he, with
energy and emphasis, "is a good fellow enough now; but before two years,
he may change his politics, or do some other shabby act that will stamp
his name with infamy. And then how foolish we shall look when hailing
our ship. No! Never while you live, call your ship, or your child, after
any living great man; but take the name of some one whose excellence is
vouched for by a tombstone."
A line of packet ships was projected, and in part established
some thirty-five years ago, between Boston and Liverpool, by some
public-spirited merchants. The project, however, after a time was
abandoned. Three new and beautiful ships were built for this enterprise,
and plied regularly between the two ports; they were named the Emerald,
the Topaz, and the Amethyst. If the undertaking had been successful,
other ships would have been added with names of a similar stamp, as the
Diamond, the Ruby, the Coral, or the Pearl.
The government of the United States has, for many years, adopted the
plan of naming ships-of-the-line after the different states in the
Union, the frigates after the rivers, and the sloops of war after the
principal cities; thus we have the Vermont, Ohio, Pennsylvania, etc.,
the Brandywine, Raritan, Merrimac, etc., and the Jamestown, Portsmouth,
Hartford, etc. As no more ships-of-the-line will probably be
constructed, comparatively few of the states will receive the honor
originally intended.
The introduction of large clipper built ships, within a few years, has
been attended with a new and distinct class of names, some of which are
of a decidedly poetical character, and fill the largest speaking trumpet
to its utmost capacity; thus the ocean is traversed in every direction
by "Winged Racers," "Flying Arrows," "Sparkling Seas," "Shooting Stars,"
"Foaming Waves," "White Squalls," "Sovereigns of the Seas," and "Thunder
Showers;" and we may soon see launched the "Almighty Dollar."
The brig Joseph was commanded by Ezra Allen, a very worthy, well-meaning
man, of moderate capacity, and an indifferent sailor. The mate, Mr.
Bowen, was an energetic, down-east Yankee, with a drawl as long as the
deep sea line, and almost as much twisted. He was one of those queer
mortals, manufactured nowhere but in New England, who, restless,
inquisitive, ingenious, and bold, can readily adapt themselves to
any situation, and, under a very raw and green exterior, conceal an
inexhaustible mine of practical good sense and available intelligence on
almost every subject. Mr. Bowen, although deferential in his deportment
towards the captain, and ever treating him with a good show of respect,
was in reality master of the brig; his advice being solicited on the
most trivial occasion, and every suggestion he made in relation to the
management of the vessel was eagerly seized upon by the captain. Indeed,
Bowen was a model of a mate; industrious, economical, and faithful,
treating the crew with kindness and consideration, yet exacting their
full quota of labor. No "bread of idleness" was consumed where he
had the direction of affairs. Under his management there was perfect
subordination, without the necessity of resorting to heavers and
handspikes as a means of enforcing authority.
The second mate, Mr. Conners, was a little, weasel-faced man, of
uncertain extraction, who had a great idea of his importance, and like
other mates I have seen, bustled about the decks, as if to make up
in noise and bustle deficiencies in merit; forgetting that a quiet,
decided, straightforward manner is more effective in enforcing
authority, and establishing discipline, than the roughest language
breathed through iron lungs. We had but a brief opportunity to test
his worth, for, on the second day after leaving port, Mr. Conners was
attacked with illness, stricken down and confined to his state-room,
where he lay, suffering much pain, and uttering moans of a character not
unfamiliar to my ears. The chief mate came on deck while I was at the
helm, and in answer to my inquiries, gave me the particulars of his
illness.
"Mr. Bowen," said I, "that man has got the yellow fever, and it is a
severe case. It will probably go hard with him."
"Do you think so, Hawser?" Said Mr. Bowen, slowly drawling out his words;
"well, I don't know but you are more than half right. There have been
some deaths from yellow fever in Savannah already this season, and who
knows but" and turning to the captain, who at this moment came on deck,
carelessly handling his toothpick, he exclaimed, "Captain Allen, Mr.
Conners has got the yellow fever!"
The captain started back, aghast, at this terrible announcement. His
face was as white as a sheet. "The yellow fever, Mr. Bowen! God forbid!
What makes you think so?"
"Why," replied the mate, "the symptoms are precisely those of yellow
fever; and you know there were some fatal cases among the shipping
before we left Savannah."
"That's true, Mr. Bowen true as a book. Perhaps it IS the yellow fever.
O Lord! The yellow fever on board the Joseph! What SHALL we do, Mr.
Bowen? Had we not better put back? Who knows whose turn it may be next?
The yellow fever! Why, this is dreadful!"
And the yellow fever it proved to be. The unfortunate man was seized
with delirium in less than twelve hours after he was attacked, and died
on the following day. The captain was terribly frightened, and was half
disposed to make for the nearest port and resign command of the brig.
But Mr. Bowen succeeded in calming his fears, and convince him, that
by sprinkling the cabin and forecastle freely with vinegar, and burning
brimstone, tobacco-leaves, and tar several hours in a day for several
successive days, the infected atmosphere would be rendered pure and
innoxious. The experiment was tried; and for more than a week the
captain, to the great annoyance of the sailors, was every day busy in
devising means of salutary fumigation, and carrying them into effect,
or, in other words, trying to drive out one poison by introducing
another a hundred times more offensive to our olfactories, and attended,
if possible, with more unpleasant associations.
We pursued our course towards Gottenburg; steering nearly in the
direction of the Gulf Stream, passing to the southward of the Bank of
Newfoundland, and then standing away to the northward and eastward, with
a view to pass north of Scotland and enter the Skager-rack through the
broad passage which separates the Orkneys from the Shetland Islands.
On the passage we fell in with the little islet, or huge rock, known as
Rockal, which lies almost in mid-ocean, being about two hundred miles
west of the coast of Scotland. This rock is only a few hundred feet in
length, and rises abruptly to a height eighty or a hundred feet. It
is craggy and precipitous, and is the resort of seals, and myriads of
birds, as osprays, gulls, and gannets, which abound in that part of the
ocean, and there, undisturbed by the presence of man, lay their eggs and
rear their young. Rockal has the appearance, when first seen, of a large
ship under sail, and is of a dark gray color, being covered in some
parts, probably to the depth of many feet, with birdlime, or guano, the
accumulation of ages. But as this rock is exposed to the peltings of the
pitiless storms, which are frequent in this part of the world, and is
subject to the extremes of heat and cold, it is possible that the rich
beds of guano with which it is covered are not of the best quality;
besides, as it can boast of no bay or nook in which a vessel, or even a
boat, can ride in safety, but is exposed on every side to the constant
succession of waves rolling onward eternally across the ocean, but not
always in the same direction, forbidding the landing of any human being
on its craggy sides, its treasures, however valuable, will probably
remain undisturbed forever.
This restlessness of the ocean, creating an undulating surface, even
during long-continued calms, excites the wonder of all who, never having
been abroad upon the waters, imagine its surface is always smooth and
unruffled unless disturbed by a gale of wind. This "tramp of the ocean
waves" is beautifully described by Charles H. Brown, one of the "Bowdoin
Poets":
"Roll on, old Ocean, dark and deep!
For thee there is no rest.
Those giant waves shall never sleep,
That o'er thy billowy breast
Tramp like the march of conquerors,
Nor cease their choral hymn
Till earth with fervent heat shall melt,
And lamps of heaven grow dim."
The next land we fell in with was Fair Isle, which lies about half way
between the Shetland and the Orkney Islands, being about twenty-five
miles south of Sumburgh Head, the southern extremity of the principal
of the Shetland Islands. Fair Isle, as is indeed the case with all these
islands which are susceptible of cultivation, is inhabited by a rude and
hardy race of beings; the men being engaged a large portion of the time
in the ling and cod fishery, which is extensively carried on in this
part of the world. Taking advantage of their locality in mid-channel,
the boatmen from Fair Isle also board vessels which pass to an fro,
going "north about," and exchange fish and a slender variety of
vegetables for tobacco and rum; those articles, so unnecessary
to happiness or comfort, being greedily coveted by the rude and
semi-barbarous inhabitants of those regions, who also, be it said to
their credit, will not object to receive a dozen of biscuit, a piece
of beef or pork, or a goodly portion of any other palatable article of
food.
We were boarded by two of these boats from Fair Isle, well filled with
stalwart and sturdy beggars; and dealing with such a man as Captain
Allen, good natured and wanting in decision and energy, their
solicitations for favors almost took the shape of peremptory demands,
and the brig was virtually laid under a heavy contribution. Some of the
most bold and importunate visited the forecastle, and manifested such an
inquisitive and rapacious spirit in their quest after tobacco, that we
were provoked to treat them in a manner most inhospitable, and drive
them on deck.
Proceeding across the head of the North Sea, and running for the "Naze
of Norway," the weather being pleasant and the sea smooth, I persuaded
Mr. Bowen to throw a fishing-line over the stern and let it trail, with
the expectation of catching some mackerel. We succeeded in capturing
several of those excellent fish, and also two or three gar-fish; a kind
of fish I have never met with elsewhere excepting in the tropical seas.
These gar-fish of the North Sea were of comparatively small size, about
fifteen inches in length, but of most delicious flavor. Their long and
slim backbone being of a deep emerald green color, Captain Allen, with
characteristic sagacity, concluded that these fish were poisonous
and unwholesome, and banished them from the cabin. They were heartily
welcomed in the forecastle, however, their qualities fully tested, and
the skipper was pronounced the most verdant of the two!
Passing the Naze, a high bluff point at the south-western extremity
of Norway, and then losing sight of the rough, mountainous coast,
intersected by innumerable arms of the sea, called FIORDS, penetrating
inland for miles, we crossed the Skager-rack and entered the Cattegat
Sea, which divides the western shores of Sweden from the coast of
Jutland, and which is about a hundred miles in length and fifty miles in
breadth. We soon got sight of Wingo Beacon, a high pyramidal monument,
built on a rock at one of the entrances of the fiord on which the city
of Gottenburg is situated, and procured a pilot, who took us through a
narrow, winding channel among the rocks, into a snug haven surrounded by
barren islets, and brought the brig to anchor.
Here we were obliged to remain until visited the next morning by the
health officer; for the quarantine regulations of Sweden, although
not so vexatious and absurd as in many other ports of Europe, were
nevertheless very strict. A case of plague or yellow fever was never
known in Gottenburg, or in any other port in Sweden, yet it was the
universal belief among medical men that both diseases were contagious,
and could be imported in ships from the Mediterranean and the West
Indies. Therefore, an elaborate code of sanitary regulations was
established, and precautions of the most useless, yet annoying character
to persons engaged in commerce, were taken to prevent the introduction
of diseases, which could not exist an hour in that northern climate.
The health officer, a grave and dignified personage, with a formidable
posse, was rowed alongside the brig in an eight-oared barge. He asked
the question, "Are you all well on board?"
"Yes."
The crew were summoned to the side of the vessel, and their phizzes
critically examined by the doctor. We were then ordered up the rigging
as high as the tops, to exhibit our activity, and prove that our muscles
were in good working condition.
"Where is your roll of equipage?" asked the doctor.
This document, containing a list of the crew as shipped in Havana, and
certified at the custom house, after having undergone an unpleasant
process of purification, was passed to the health officer, by the aid of
a pair of tongs with legs of extraordinary length.
On counting heads, and comparing the actual number of those who were
anxiously looking over the gunwale with the list of the ship's company,
that vigilant functionary shook his head. One of the number was missing!
An explanation was demanded. Captain Allen was embarrassed. He trumped
up a clumsy story about a bad cold, ill health of long standing,
consumption, etc., but whispered not a syllable of yellow fever. He was
a poor hand at deception; but he might as well have stated the whole
truth, for as in all places abroad where strict quarantine laws are
established, if one or more of the crew is missing, it matters not
whether he died of accident or disease, the health officers take it for
granted, and insist upon it in spite of evidence to the contrary, that
he died of plague if the vessel is from the Mediterranean, or of yellow
fever if from a southern American port or the West Indies.
Greatly to the mortification of Captain Allen, and to the loudly
expressed dissatisfaction of the crew, the brig was ordered to remain
TEN DAYS IN QUARANTINE.
Nor was this all the trouble and annoyance consequent on the deficiency
in the "roll of equipage." Fumigations in the cabin and the forecastle,
of a character stronger and more disagreeable than Captain Allen ever
dreamed of, were carried on, under the direction of the pilot and a
revenue officer, several times a day. They were attended with a most
inodorous effluvia, and caused such a general concert of sneezing
and coughing, by night as well as by day, that one would have thought
influenza, in its most fearful shape and with giant power, had seized
every man by the throat.