MY BIRTH, PARENTAGE, AND FAMILY PRETENSIONS--UNFORTUNATELY I PROVE TO BE
A DETRIMENTAL OR YOUNGER SON, WHICH IS REMEDIED BY A TRIFLING ACCIDENT--
I HARDLY RECEIVE THE FIRST ELEMENTS OF SCIENCE FROM MY FATHER, WHEN THE
ELEMENTS CONSPIRE AGAINST ME, AND I AM LEFT AN ORPHAN.
Gentle reader, I was born upon the water--not upon the salt and angry
ocean, but upon the fresh and rapid-flowing river. It was in a floating
sort of box, called a lighter, and upon the river Thames, at low water,
when I first smelt the mud. This lighter was manned (an expression
amounting to bullism, if not construed _kind_-ly) by my father, my
mother, and your humble servant. My father had the sole charge--he was
monarch of the deck: my mother, of course, was queen, and I was the
heir-apparent.
Before I say one word about myself, allow me dutifully to describe my
parents. First, then, I will portray my queen mother. Report says,
that when she first came on board of the lighter, a lighter figure and a
lighter step never pressed a plank; but as far as I can tax my
recollection, she was always a fat, unwieldy woman. Locomotion was not
to her taste--gin was. She seldom quitted the cabin--never quitted the
lighter: a pair of shoes may have lasted her for five years for the wear
and tear she took out of them. Being of this domestic habit, as all
married women ought to be, she was always to be found when wanted; but
although always at hand, she was not always on her feet. Towards the
close of the day, she lay down upon her bed--a wise precaution when a
person can no longer stand. The fact was, that my honoured mother,
although her virtue was unimpeachable, was frequently seduced by liquor;
and although constant to my father, was debauched and to be found in bed
with that insidious assailer of female uprightness--_gin_. The lighter,
which might have been compared to another garden of Eden, of which my
mother was the Eve, and my father the Adam to consort with, was entered
by this serpent who tempted her; and if she did not eat, she drank,
which was even worse. At first, indeed--and I may mention it to prove
how the enemy always gains admittance under a specious form--she drank
it only to keep the cold out of her stomach, which the humid atmosphere
from the surrounding water appeared to warrant. My father took his pipe
for the same reason; but, at the time that I was born, he smoked and she
drank from morning to night, because habit had rendered it almost
necessary to their existence. The pipe was always to his lip, the glass
incessantly to hers. I would have defied any cold ever to have
penetrated into their stomachs;--but I have said enough of my mother for
the present; I will now pass on to my father.
My father was a puffy, round-bellied, long-armed, little man, admirably
calculated for his station in, or rather out of, society. He could
manage a lighter as well as anybody; but he could do no more. He had
been brought up to it from his infancy. He went on shore for my mother,
and came on board again--the only remarkable event in his life. His
whole amusement was his pipe; and, as there is a certain indefinable
link between smoking and philosophy, my father, by dint of smoking, had
become a perfect philosopher. It is no less strange than true, that we
can puff away our cares with tobacco, when, without it, they remain a
burden to existence. There is no composing draught like the draught
through the tube of a pipe. The savage warriors of North America
enjoyed the blessing before we did; and to the pipe is to be ascribed
the wisdom of their councils and the laconic delivery of their
sentiments. It would be well introduced into our own legislative
assembly. Ladies, indeed, would no longer peep down through the
ventilator; but we should have more sense and fewer words. It is also
to tobacco that is to be ascribed the stoical firmness of those American
warriors, who, satisfied with the pipes in their mouths, submitted with
perfect indifference to the torture of their enemies. From the
well-known virtues of this weed arose that peculiar expression when you
irritate another, that you "put his pipe out."
My father's pipe, literally and metaphorically, was never put out. He
had a few apophthegms which brought every disaster to a happy
conclusion; and as he seldom or never indulged in words, these sayings
were deeply impressed upon my infant memory. One was, "_It's no use
crying; what's done can't be helped_." When once these words escaped
his lips, the subject was never renewed. Nothing appeared to move him:
the abjurations of those employed in the other lighters, barges,
vessels, and boats of every description, who were contending with us for
the extra foot of water, as we drifted up or down with the tide,
affected him not, further than an extra column or two of smoke rising
from the bowl of his pipe. To my mother he used but one expression,
"_Take it coolly_;" but it always had the contrary effect with my
mother, as it put her more in a passion. It was like pouring oil upon
flame; nevertheless, the advice was good, had it ever been followed.
Another favourite expression of my father's when anything went wrong,
and which was of the same pattern as the rest of his philosophy, was,
"_Better luck next time_." These aphorisms were deeply impressed upon
my memory; I continually recalled them to mind, and thus I became a
philosopher long before my wise teeth were in embryo, or I had even shed
the first set with which kind Nature presents us, that in the petticoat
age we may fearlessly indulge in lollipop.
My father's education had been neglected. He could neither write nor
read; but although he did not exactly, like Cadmus, invent letters, he
had accustomed himself to certain hieroglyphics, generally speaking
sufficient for his purposes, and which might be considered as an
artificial memory. "I can't write nor read, Jacob," he would say; "I
wish I could; but look, boy, I means this mark for three quarters of a
bushel. Mind you recollects it when I axes you, or I'll be blowed if I
don't wallop you." But it was only a case of peculiar difficulty which
would require a new hieroglyphic, or extract such a long speech from my
father. I was well acquainted with his usual scratches and dots, and
having a good memory, could put him right when he was puzzled with some
misshapen _x_ or _z_, representing some unknown quantity, like the same
letters in algebra.
I have said that I was heir-apparent, but I did not say that I was the
only child born to my father in his wedlock. My honoured mother had had
two more children; but the first, who was a girl, had been provided for
by a fit of the measles; and the second, my elder brother, by stumbling
over the stern of the lighter when he was three years old. At the time
of the accident my mother had retired to her bed, a little the worse for
liquor; my father was on deck forward, leaning against the windlass,
soberly smoking his evening pipe. "What was that?" exclaimed my father,
taking his pipe out of his mouth, and listening; "I shouldn't wonder if
that wasn't Joe." And my father put in his pipe again, and smoked away
as before.
My father was correct in his surmises. It _was_ Joe who had made the
splash which roused him from his meditations, for the next morning Joe
was nowhere to be found. He was, however, found some days afterwards;
but, as the newspapers say, and as may well be imagined, the vital spark
was extinct; and, moreover, the eels and chubs had eaten off his nose
and a portion of his chubby face, so that, as my father said, "he was of
no use to nobody." The morning after the accident my father was up
early, and had missed poor little Joe. He went into the cabin, smoked
his pipe, and said nothing. As my brother did not appear as usual for
his breakfast, my mother called out for him in a harsh voice; but Joe
was out of hearing, and as mute as a fish. Joe opened not his mouth in
reply, neither did my father. My mother then quitted the cabin, and
walked round the lighter, looked into the dog-kennel to ascertain if he
was asleep with the great mastiff--but Joe was nowhere to be found.
"Why, what can have become of Joe?" cried my mother, with maternal alarm
in her countenance, appealing to my father, as she hastened back to the
cabin. My father spoke not, but taking the pipe out of his mouth,
dropped the bowl of it in a perpendicular direction till it landed
softly on the deck, then put it into his mouth again, and puffed
mournfully. "Why, you don't mean to say he is overboard?" screamed my
mother.
My father nodded his head, and puffed away at an accumulated rate. A
torrent of tears, exclamations, and revilings succeeded to this
characteristic announcement. My father allowed my mother to exhaust
herself. By the time when she had finished, so was his pipe; he then
knocked out the ashes, and quietly observed, "It's no use crying; what's
done can't be helped," and proceeded to refill the bowl.
"Can't be helped!" cried my mother; "but it might have been helped."
"Take it coolly," replied my father.
"Take it coolly!" replied my mother in a rage--"take it coolly! Yes,
you're for taking everything coolly: I presume, if I fell overboard you
would be taking it coolly."
"You would be taking it coolly, at all events," replied my imperturbable
father.
"O dear! O dear!" cried my poor mother; "two poor children, and lost
them both!"
"Better luck next time," rejoined my father; "so, Sall, say no more
about it."
My father continued for some time to smoke his pipe, and my mother to
pipe her eye, until at last my father, who was really a kind-hearted
man, rose from the chest upon which he was seated, went to the cupboard,
poured out a teacupful of _gin_, and handed it to my mother. It was
kindly done of him, and my mother was to be won by kindness. It was a
pure offering in the spirit, and taken in the spirit in which it was
offered. After a few repetitions, which were rendered necessary from
its potency being diluted with her tears, grief and recollection were
drowned together, and disappeared like two lovers who sink down entwined
in each other's arms.
With this beautiful metaphor, I shall wind up the episode of my
unfortunate brother Joe.
It was about a year after the loss of my brother that I was ushered into
the world, without any other assistants or spectators than my father and
Dame Nature, who I believe to be a very clever midwife if not interfered
with. My father, who had some faint ideas of Christianity, performed
the baptismal rites by crossing me on the forehead with the end of his
pipe, and calling me Jacob: as for my mother being churched, she had
never been but once to church in her life. In fact, my father and
mother never quitted the lighter, unless when the former was called out
by the superintendent or proprietor, at the delivery or shipment of a
cargo, or was once a month for a few minutes on shore to purchase
necessaries. I cannot recall much of my infancy; but I recollect that
the lighter was often very brilliant with blue and red paint, and that
my mother used to point it out to me as "so pretty," to keep me quiet.
I shall therefore pass it over, and commence at the age of five years,
at which early period I was of some little use to my father. Indeed I
was almost as forward as some boys at ten. This may appear strange; but
the fact is, that my ideas although bounded, were concentrated. The
lighter, its equipments, and its destination were the microcosm of my
infant imagination; and my ideas and thoughts being directed to so few
objects, these objects were deeply impressed, and their value fully
understood. Up to the time that I quitted the lighter, at eleven years
old, the banks of the river were the boundaries of my speculations. I
certainly comprehended something of the nature of trees and houses; but
I do not think that I was aware that the former _grew_. From the time
that I could recollect them on the banks of the river, they appeared to
be exactly of the same size as they were when first I saw them, and I
asked no questions. But by the time that I was ten years old, I knew
the name of the reach of the river, and every point--the depth of water,
and the shallows, the drift of the current, and the ebb and flow of the
tide itself. I was able to manage the lighter as it floated down with
the tide; for what I lacked in strength I made up with dexterity arising
from constant practice.
It was at the age of eleven years that a catastrophe took place which
changed my prospects in life, and I must, therefore, say a little more
about my father and mother, bringing up their history to that period.
The propensity of my mother to ardent spirits had, as always is the
case, greatly increased upon her, and her corpulence had increased in
the same ratio. She was now a most unwieldy, bloated mountain of flesh,
such a form as I have never since beheld, although, at the time, she did
not appear to me to be disgusting, accustomed to witness imperceptibly
her increase, and not seeing any other females, except at a distance.
For the last two years she had seldom quitted her bed--certainly she did
not crawl out of the cabin more than five minutes during the week--
indeed, her obesity and habitual intoxication rendered her incapable.
My father went on shore for a quarter of an hour once a month, to
purchase gin, tobacco, red herrings, and decayed ship-biscuits;--the
latter was my principal fare, except when I could catch a fish over the
sides, as we lay at anchor. I was, therefore, a great water-drinker,
not altogether from choice, but from the salt nature of my food, and
because my mother had still sense enough left to discern that "Gin
wasn't good for little boys." But a great change had taken place in my
father. I was now left almost altogether in charge of the deck, my
father seldom coming up except to assist me in shooting the bridges, or
when it required more than my exertions to steer clear of the crowds of
vessels which we encountered when between them. In fact, as I grew more
capable, my father became more incapable, and passed most of his time in
the cabin, assisting my mother in emptying the great stone bottle. The
woman had prevailed upon the man, and now both were guilty in partaking
of the forbidden fruit of the Juniper Tree. Such was the state of
affairs in our little kingdom when the catastrophe occurred which I am
now about to relate.
One fine summer's evening we were floating up with the tide, deeply
laden with coals, to be delivered at the proprietor's wharf, some
distance above Putney Bridge; a strong breeze sprang up and checked our
progress, and we could not, as we expected, gain the wharf that night.
We were about a mile and a half above the bridge when the tide turned
against us, and we dropped our anchor. My father who, expecting to
arrive that evening, had very unwillingly remained sober, waiting until
the lighter had swung to the stream, and then saying to me, "Remember,
Jacob, we must be at the wharf early tomorrow morning, so keep alive,"
went into the cabin to indulge in his potations, leaving me in
possession of the deck, and also of my supper, which I never ate below,
the little cabin being so unpleasantly close. Indeed, I took all my
meals _al fresco_, and, unless the nights were intensely cold, slept on
deck, in the capacious dog-kennel abaft, which had once been tenanted by
the large mastiff; but he had been dead some years, was thrown
overboard, and, in all probability, had been converted into savoury
sausages at 1 shilling per pound weight. Some time after his decease, I
had taken possession of his apartment and had performed his duty. I had
finished my supper, which was washed down with a considerable portion of
Thames water, for I always drank more when above the bridges, having an
idea that it tasted more pure and fresh. I had walked forward and
looked at the cable to see if all was right, and then, having nothing
more to do, I lay down on the deck, and indulged in the profound
speculations of a boy of eleven years old. I was watching the stars
above me, which twinkled faintly, and appeared to me ever and anon to be
extinguished and then relighted. I was wondering what they could be
made of, and how they came there, when of a sudden I was interrupted in
my reveries by a loud shriek, and perceived a strong smell of something
burning. The shrieks were renewed again and again, and I had hardly
time to get upon my legs when my father burst up from the cabin, rushed
over the side of the lighter, and disappeared under the water. I caught
a glimpse of his features as he passed me, and observed fright and
intoxication blended together. I ran to the side where he had
disappeared, but could see nothing but a few eddying circles as the tide
rushed quickly past. For a few seconds I remained staggered and
stupefied at his sudden disappearance and evident death, but I was
recalled to recollection by the smoke which encompassed me, and the
shrieks of my mother, which were now fainter and fainter, and I hastened
to her assistance.
A strong, empyreumatic, thick smoke ascended from the hatchway of the
cabin, and, as it had now fallen calm, it mounted straight up the air in
a dense column. I attempted to go in, but so soon as I encountered the
smoke I found that it was impossible; it would have suffocated me in
half a minute. I did what most children would have done in such a
situation of excitement and distress--I sat down and cried bitterly. In
about ten minutes I moved my hands, with which I had covered up my face,
and looked at the cabin hatch. The smoke had disappeared, and all was
silent. I went to the hatchway, and although the smell was still
overpowering, I found that I could bear it. I descended the little
ladder of three steps, and called "Mother!" but there was no answer.
The lamp fixed against the after bulk-head, with a glass before it, was
still alight, and I could see plainly to every corner of the cabin.
Nothing was burning--not even the curtains to my mother's bed appeared
to be singed. I was astonished--breathless with fear, with a trembling
voice, I again called out "Mother!" I remained more than a minute
panting for breath, and then ventured to draw back the curtains of the
bed--my mother was not there! but there appeared to be a black mass in
the centre of the bed. I put my hand fearfully upon it--it was a sort
of unctuous, pitchy cinder. I screamed with horror--my little senses
reeled--I staggered from the cabin and fell down on the deck in a state
amounting almost to insanity: it was followed by a sort of stupor, which
lasted for many hours.
As the reader may be in some doubt as to the occasion of my mother's
death, I must inform him that she perished in that very peculiar and
dreadful manner, which does sometimes, although rarely, occur, to those
who indulge in an immoderate use of spirituous liquors. Cases of this
kind do, indeed, present themselves but once in a century, but the
occurrence of them is too well authenticated. She perished from what is
termed _spontaneous combustion_, an inflammation of the gases generated
from the spirits absorbed into the system. It is to be presumed that
the flames issuing from my mother's body completely frightened out of
his senses my father, who had been drinking freely; and thus did I lose
both my parents, one by fire and the other by water, at one and the same
time.