I was repeating to myself some of the stanzas of Mrs Norton's "Here's a
Health to the Outward-bound," when I cast my eyes forward.
I could not imagine what the seamen were about; they appeared to be
_pumping_, instead of heaving, at the windlass. I forced my way through
the heterogeneous mixture of human beings, animals, and baggage which
crowded the decks, and discovered that they were working a patent
windlass, by Dobbinson--a very ingenious and superior invention. The
seamen, as usual, lightened their labour with the song and chorus,
forbidden by the etiquette of a man-of-war. The one they sung was
peculiarly musical, although not refined; and the chorus of "Oh! Sally
Brown," was given with great emphasis by the whole crew between every
line of the song, sung by an athletic young third mate. I took my seat
on the knight-heads--turned my face aft--looked and listened.
"Heave away there, forward."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"`Sally Brown--oh! my dear Sally.'" (Single voice).
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'" (Chorus).
"`Sally Brown, of Buble Al-ly.'" (Single voice).
"`Oh! Sal-ly Brown,'" (Chorus).
"Avast heaving there; send all aft to clear the boat."
"Aye, aye, sir. Where are we to stow these casks, Mr Fisher?"
"Stow them! Heaven knows; get them in, at all events."
"Captain H---! Captain H---! there's my piano still on deck; it will be
quite spoiled--indeed it will."
"Don't be alarmed, ma'am; as soon as we're under weigh we'll hoist the
cow up, and get the piano down."
"What! under the cow?"
"No, ma'am; but the cow's over the hatchway."
"Now, then, my lads, forward to the windlass."
"`I went to town to get some toddy.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"`T'wasn't fit for any body.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"Out there, and clear away the jib."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Mr Fisher, how much cable is there out?"
"Plenty yet, sir.--Heave away, my lads."
"`Sally is a bright mulattar.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"`Pretty girl, but can't get at her.'"
"Avast heaving; send the men aft to whip the ladies in.--Now, miss, only
sit down and don't be afraid, and you'll be in, in no time.--Whip away,
my lads, handsomely; steady her with the guy; lower away.--There, miss,
now you're safely _landed_."
"Landed am I? I thought I was _shipped_."
"Very good, indeed--very good, miss; you'll make an excellent sailor, I
see."
"I should make a better sailor's _wife_, I expect, Captain H---."
"Excellent! Allow me to hand you aft; you'll excuse me.--Forward now,
my men; heave away!"
"`Seven years I courted Sally.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"`Seven more of shilley-shally.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"`She won't wed--'"
"Avast heaving. Up there, and loose the topsails; stretch along the
topsail-sheets.--Upon my soul, half these children will be killed.--
Whose child are you?"
"I--don't--know."
"Go and find out, that's a dear.--Let fall; sheet home; belay starboard
sheet; clap on the larboard; belay all that.--Now, then, Mr Fisher."
"Aye, aye, sir.--Heave away, my lads."
"`She won't wed a Yankee sailor.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"`For she's in love with the nigger tailor.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"Heave away, my men; heave, and in sight. Hurrah! my lads."
"`Sally Brown--oh! my dear Sally!'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown!'"
"`Sally Brown, of Buble Alley.'"
"`Oh! Sally Brown.'"
"`Sally has a cross old granny.'"
"`Oh--!'"
"Heave and fall--jib-halyards--hoist away."
"Oh! dear--oh! dear."
"The clumsy brute has half-killed the girl!--Don't cry, my dear."
"Pick up the child, Tom, and shove it out of the way."
"Where shall I put her?"
"Oh, any where just now; put her on the turkey-coop."
"Starboard!"
"I say, clap on, some of you _he_ chaps, or else get out of the way."
"Sailor, mind my band-box."
"Starboard!"
"Starboard it is; steady so."
Thus, with the trifling matter of maiming half-a-dozen children,
upsetting two or three women, smashing the lids of a few trunks, and
crushing some band-boxes as flat as a muffin, the good ship Quebec was
at last fairly under weigh, and standing out for St Helen's.
3 p.m.--Off St Helen's; ship steady; little wind; water smooth;
passengers sure they won't be sick.
3:20.--Apologies from the captain for a cold dinner on this day.
4 o'clock.--Dinner over; every body pulls out a number of "Pickwick;"
every body talks and reads Pickwick; weather getting up squally;
passengers not quite so sure they won't be seasick.
Who can tell what the morrow may bring forth? It brought forth a heavy
sea, and the passengers were quite sure that they were seasick. Only
six out of thirty-eight made their appearance at the breakfast-table;
and, for many days afterwards, there were Pickwicks in plenty strewed
all over the cabin, but passengers were very scarce.
But we had more than sea-sickness to contend with--the influenza broke
out and raged. Does not this prove that it is contagious, and not
dependant on the atmosphere? It was hard, after having sniffled with it
for six weeks on shore, that I should have another month of it on board.
But who can control destiny? The ship was like a hospital; an elderly
woman was the first victim--then a boy of twelve years of age.
Fortunately, there were no more deaths.
But I have said enough of the passage. On the 4th of May, in the year
of our Lord 1837, I found myself walking up Broadway, among the free and
enlightened citizens of New York.