LOADING FOR HOME--A SURPRISE--LAST OF AN OLD FRIEND--THE LAST HIDE--A
HARD CASE--UP ANCHOR, FOR HOME!--HOMEWARD BOUND
We turned-in early, knowing that we might expect an early call; and
sure enough, before the stars had quite faded, "All hands ahoy!" and we
were turned-to, heaving out ballast. A regulation of the port forbids
any ballast to be thrown overboard; accordingly, our long-boat was
lined inside with rough boards and brought alongside the gangway, but
where one tub-full went into the boat, twenty went overboard. This is
done by every vessel, for the ballast can make but little difference in
the channel, and it saves more than a week of labor, which would be
spent in loading the boats, rowing them to the point, and unloading
them. When any people from the Presidio were on board, the boat was
hauled up and ballast thrown in; but when the coast was clear, she was
dropped astern again, and the ballast fell overboard. This is one of
those petty frauds which every vessel practises in ports of inferior
foreign nations, and which are lost sight of, among the countless deeds
of greater weight which are hardly less common. Fortunately a sailor,
not being a free agent in work aboard ship, is not accountable; yet the
fact of being constantly employed, without thought, in such things,
begets an indifference to the rights of others.
Friday, and a part of Saturday, we were engaged in this work, until we
had thrown out all but what we wanted under our cargo on the passage
home; when, as the next day was Sunday, and a good day for smoking
ship, we cleared everything out of the cabin and forecastle, made a
slow fire of charcoal, birch bark, brimstone, and other matters, on the
ballast in the bottom of the hold, calked up the hatches and every open
seam, and pasted over the cracks of the windows, and the slides of the
scuttles, and companionway. Wherever smoke was seen coming out, we
calked and pasted, and, so far as we could, made the ship smoke tight.
The captain and officers slept under the awning which was spread over
the quarter-deck; and we stowed ourselves away under an old
studding-sail, which we drew over one side of the forecastle. The next
day, from fear that something might happen, orders were given for no
one to leave the ship, and, as the decks were lumbered up with
everything, we could not wash them down, so we had nothing to do, all
day long. Unfortunately, our books were where we could not get at them,
and we were turning about for something to do, when one man recollected
a book he had left in the galley. He went after it, and it proved to
be Woodstock. This was a great windfall, and as all could not read it
at once, I, being the scholar of the company, was appointed reader. I
got a knot of six or eight about me, and no one could have had a more
attentive audience. Some laughed at the "scholars," and went over the
other side of the forecastle, to work, and spin their yarns; but I
carried the day, and had the cream of the crew for my hearers. Many of
the reflections, and the political parts, I omitted, but all the
narrative they were delighted with; especially the descriptions of the
Puritans, and the sermons and harangues of the Round-head soldiers.
The gallantry of Charles, Dr. Radcliffe's plots, the knavery of "trusty
Tompkins,"--in fact, every part seemed to chain their attention. Many
things which, while I was reading, I had a misgiving about, thinking
them above their capacity, I was surprised to find them enter into
completely.
I read nearly all day, until sundown; when, as soon as supper was over,
as I had nearly finished, they got a light from the galley; and by
skipping what was less interesting, I carried them through to the
marriage of Everard, and the restoration of Charles the Second, before
eight o'clock.
The next morning, we took the battens from the hatches, and opened the
ship. A few stifled rats were found; and what bugs, cockroaches,
fleas, and other vermin, there might have been on board, must have
unrove their life-lines before the hatches were opened. The ship being
now ready, we covered the bottom of the hold over, fore and aft, with
dried brush for dunnage, and having levelled everything away, we were
ready to take in our cargo. All the hides that had been collected
since the California left the coast, (a little more than two years,)
amounting to about forty thousand, were cured, dried, and stowed away
in the house, waiting for our good ship to take them to Boston.
Now began the operation of taking in our cargo, which kept us hard at
work, from the grey of the morning till star-light, for six weeks, with
the exception of Sundays, and of just time to swallow our meals. To
carry the work on quicker, a division of labor was made. Two men threw
the hides down from the piles in the house, two more picked them up and
put them on a long horizontal pole, raised a few feet from the ground,
where they were beaten, by two more, with flails, somewhat like those
used in threshing wheat. When beaten, they were taken from this pole
by two more, and placed upon a platform of boards; and ten or a dozen
men, with their trowsers rolled up, were constantly going, back and
forth, from the platform to the boat, which was kept off where she
would just float, with the hides upon their heads. The throwing the
hides upon the pole was the most difficult work, and required a sleight
of hand which was only to be got by long practice. As I was known for
a hide-curer, this post was assigned to me, and I continued at it for
six or eight days, tossing, in that time, from eight to ten thousand
hides, until my wrists became so lame that I gave in; and was
transferred to the gang that was employed in filling the boats, where I
remained for the rest of the time. As we were obliged to carry the
hides on our heads from fear of their getting wet, we each had a piece
of sheepskin sewed into the inside of our hats, with the wool next to
our heads, and thus were able to bear the weight, day after day, which
would otherwise have soon worn off our hair, and borne hard upon our
skulls. Upon the whole, ours was the best berth; for though the water
was nipping cold, early in the morning and late at night, and being so
continually wet was rather an exposure, yet we got rid of the constant
dust and dirt from the beating of the hides, and being all of us young
and hearty, did not mind the exposure. The older men of the crew, whom
it would have been dangerous to have kept in the water, remained on
board with the mate, to stow the hides away, as fast as they were
brought off by the boats.
We continued at work in this manner until the lower hold was filled to
within four feet of the beams, when all hands were called aboard to
commence steeving. As this is a peculiar operation, it will require a
minute description.
Before stowing the hides, as I have said, the ballast is levelled off,
just above the keelson, and then loose dunnage placed upon it, on which
the hides rest. The greatest care is used in stowing, to make the ship
hold as many hides as possible. It is no mean art, and a man skilled
in it is an important character in California. Many a dispute have I
heard raging high between professed "beach-combers," as to whether the
hides should be stowed "shingling," or "back-to-back, and
flipper-to-flipper;" upon which point there was an entire and bitter
division of sentiment among the savans. We adopted each method at
different periods of the stowing, and parties ran high in the
forecastle, some siding with "old Bill" in favor of the former, and
others scouting him, and relying upon "English Bob" of the Ayacucho,
who had been eight years in California, and was willing to risk his
life and limb for the latter method. At length a compromise was
effected, and a middle course, of shifting the ends and backs at every
lay, was adopted, which worked well, and which, though they held it
inferior to their own, each party granted was better than that of the
other.
Having filled the ship up, in this way, to within four feet of her
beams, the process of steeving commenced, by which an hundred hides are
got into a place where one could not be forced by hand, and which
presses the hides to the utmost, sometimes starting the beams of the
ship, resembling in its effects the jack-screws which are used in
stowing cotton. Each morning we went ashore, and beat and brought off
as many hides as we could steeve in the course of the day, and, after
breakfast, went down into the hold, where we remained at work until
night. The whole length of the hold, from stem to stern, was floored
off level, and we began with raising a pile in the after part, hard
against the bulkhead of the run, and filling it up to the beams,
crowding in as many as we could by hand and pushing in with oars; when
a large "book" was made of from twenty-five to fifty hides, doubled at
the backs, and put into one another, like the leaves of a book. An
opening was then made between two hides in the pile, and the back of
the outside hide of the book inserted. Two long, heavy spars, called
steeves, made of the strongest wood, and sharpened off like a wedge at
one end, were placed with their wedge ends into the inside of the hide
which was the centre of the book, and to the other end of each, straps
were fitted, into which large tackles were hooked, composed each of two
huge purchase blocks, one hooked to the strap on the end of the steeve,
and the other into a dog, fastened into one of the beams, as far aft as
it could be got. When this was arranged, and the ways greased upon
which the book was to slide, the falls of the tackles were stretched
forward, and all hands tallied on, and bowsed away until the book was
well entered; when these tackles were nippered, straps and toggles
clapped upon the falls, and two more luff tackles hooked on, with dogs,
in the same manner; and thus, by luff upon luff, the power was
multiplied, until into a pile in which one hide more could not be
crowded by hand, an hundred or an hundred and fifty were often driven
in by this complication of purchases. When the last luff was hooked
on, all hands were called to the rope--cook, steward, and all--and
ranging ourselves at the falls, one behind the other, sitting down on
the hides, with our heads just even with the beams, we set taut upon
the tackles, and striking up a song, and all lying back at the chorus,
we bowsed the tackles home, and drove the large books chock in out of
sight.
The sailor's songs for capstans and falls are of a peculiar kind,
having a chorus at the end of each line. The burden is usually sung,
by one alone, and, at the chorus, all hands join in,--and the louder
the noise, the better. With us, the chorus seemed almost to raise the
decks of the ship, and might be heard at a great distance, ashore. A
song is as necessary to sailors as the drum and fife to a soldier.
They can't pull in time, or pull with a will, without it. Many a time,
when a thing goes heavy, with one fellow yo-ho-ing, a lively song, like
"Heave, to the girls!" "Nancy oh!" "Jack Cross-tree," etc., has put
life and strength into every arm. We often found a great difference in
the effect of the different songs in driving in the hides. Two or
three songs would be tried, one after the other; with no effect;--not
an inch could be got upon the tackles--when a new song, struck up,
seemed to hit the humor of the moment, and drove the tackles "two
blocks" at once. "Heave round hearty!" "Captain gone ashore!" and the
like, might do for common pulls, but in an emergency, when we wanted a
heavy, "raise-the-dead" pull, which should start the beams of the ship,
there was nothing like "Time for us to go!" "Round the corner," or
"Hurrah! hurrah! my hearty bullies!"
This was the most lively part of our work. A little boating and beach
work in the morning; then twenty or thirty men down in a close hold,
where we were obliged to sit down and slide about, passing hides, and
rowsing about the great steeves, tackles, and dogs, singing out at the
falls, and seeing the ship filling up every day. The work was as hard
as it could well be. There was not a moment's cessation from Monday
morning till Saturday night, when we were generally beaten out, and
glad to have a full night's rest, a wash and shift of clothes, and a
quiet Sunday. During all this time,--which would have startled Dr.
Graham--we lived upon almost nothing but fresh beef; fried beefsteaks,
three times a day,--morning, noon, and night. At morning and night we
had a quart of tea to each man; and an allowance of about a pound of
hard bread a day; but our chief article of food was the beef. A mess,
consisting of six men, had a large wooden kid piled up with beefsteaks,
cut thick, and fried in fat, with the grease poured over them. Round
this we sat, attacking it with our jack-knives and teeth, and with the
appetite of young lions, and sent back an empty kid to the galley.
This was done three times a day. How many pounds each man ate in a
day, I will not attempt to compute. A whole bullock (we ate liver and
all) lasted us but four days. Such devouring of flesh, I will venture
to say, was seldom known before. What one man ate in a day, over a
hearty man's allowance, would make a Russian's heart leap into his
mouth. Indeed, during all the time we were upon the coast, our
principal food was fresh beef, and every man had perfect health; but
this was a time of especial devouring; and what we should have done
without meat, I cannot tell. Once or twice, when our bullocks failed
and we were obliged to make a meal upon dry bread and water, it seemed
like feeding upon shavings. Light and dry, feeling unsatisfied, and,
at the same time, full, we were glad to see four quarters of a bullock,
just killed, swinging from the fore-top. Whatever theories may be
started by sedentary men, certainly no men could have gone through more
hard work and exposure for sixteen months in more perfect health, and
without ailings and failings, than our ship's crew, let them have lived
upon Hygeia's own baking and dressing.
Friday, April 15th. Arrived, brig Pilgrim, from the windward. It was a
sad sight for her crew to see us getting ready to go off the coast,
while they, who had been longer on the coast than the Alert, were
condemned to another year's hard service. I spent an evening on board,
and found them making the best of the matter, and determined to rough
it out as they might; but my friend S---- was determined to go home in
the ship, if money or interest could bring it to pass. After
considerable negotiating and working, he succeeded in persuading my
English friend, Tom Harris,--my companion in the anchor watch--for
thirty dollars, some clothes, and an intimation from Captain Faucon
that he should want a second mate before the voyage was up, to take his
place in the brig as soon as she was ready to go up to windward.
The first opportunity I could get to speak to Captain Faucon, I asked
him to step up to the oven and look at Hope, whom he knew well, having
had him on board his vessel. He went to see him, but said that he had
so little medicine, and expected to be so long on the coast, that he
could do nothing for him, but that Captain Arthur would take care of
him when he came down in the California, which would be in a week or
more. I had been to see Hope the first night after we got into San
Diego this last time, and had frequently since spent the early part of
a night in the oven. I hardly expected, when I left him to go to
windward, to find him alive upon my return. He was certainly as low as
he could well be when I left him, and what would be the effect of the
medicines that I gave him, I hardly then dared to conjecture. Yet I
knew that he must die without them. I was not a little rejoiced,
therefore, and relieved, upon our return, to see him decidedly better.
The medicines were strong, and took hold and gave a check to the
disorder which was destroying him; and, more than that, they had begun
the work of exterminating it. I shall never forget the gratitude that
he expressed. All the Kanakas attributed his escape solely to my
knowledge, and would not be persuaded that I had not all the secrets of
the physical system open to me and under my control. My medicines,
however, were gone, and no more could be got from the ship, so that his
life was left to hang upon the arrival of the California.
Sunday, April 24th. We had now been nearly seven weeks in San Diego,
and had taken in the greater part of our cargo, and were looking out,
every day, for the arrival of the California, which had our agent on
board; when, this afternoon, some Kanakas, who had been over the hill
for rabbits and to fight rattlesnakes, came running down the path,
singing out, "Kail ho!" with all their might. Mr. H., our third mate,
was ashore, and asking them particularly about the size of the sail,
etc., and learning that it was "Moku--Nui Moku," hailed our ship, and
said that the California was on the other side of the point.
Instantly, all hands were turned up, the bow guns run out and loaded,
the ensign and broad pennant set, the yards squared by lifts and
braces, and everything got ready to make a good appearance. The
instant she showed her nose round the point, we began our salute. She
came in under top-gallant sails, clewed up and furled her sails in good
order, and came-to, within good swinging distance of us. It being
Sunday, and nothing to do, all hands were on the forecastle,
criticising the new-comer. She was a good, substantial ship, not quite
so long as the Alert, and wall-sided and kettle-bottomed, after the
latest fashion of south-shore cotton and sugar wagons; strong, too, and
tight, and a good average sailor, but with no pretensions to beauty,
and nothing in the style of a "crack ship." Upon the whole, we were
perfectly satisfied that the Alert might hold up her head with a ship
twice as smart as she.
At night, some of us got a boat and went on board, and found a large,
roomy forecastle, (for she was squarer forward than the Alert,) and a
crew of a dozen or fifteen men and boys, sitting around on their
chests, smoking and talking, and ready to give a welcome to any of our
ship's company. It was just seven months since they left Boston, which
seemed but yesterday to us. Accordingly, we had much to ask, for
though we had seen the newspapers that she brought, yet these were the
very men who had been in Boston and seen everything with their own
eyes. One of the green-hands was a Boston boy, from one of the public
schools, and, of course, knew many things which we wished to ask about,
and on inquiring the names of our two Boston boys, found that they had
been schoolmates of his. Our men had hundreds of questions to ask
about Ann street, the boarding-houses, the ships in port, the rate of
wages, and other matters.
Among her crew were two English man-of-war's-men, so that, of course,
we soon had music. They sang in the true sailor's style, and the rest
of the crew, which was a remarkably musical one, joined in the
choruses. They had many of the latest sailor songs, which had not yet
got about among our merchantmen, and which they were very choice of.
They began soon after we came on board, and kept it up until after two
bells, when the second mate came forward and called "the Alerts away!"
Battle-songs, drinking-songs, boat-songs, love-songs, and everything
else, they seemed to have a complete assortment of, and I was glad to
find that "All in the Downs," "Poor Tom Bowline," "The Bay of Biscay,"
"List, ye Landsmen!" and all those classical songs of the sea, still
held their places. In addition to these, they had picked up at the
theatres and other places a few songs of a little more genteel cast,
which they were very proud of; and I shall never forget hearing an old
salt, who had broken his voice by hard drinking on shore, and bellowing
from the mast-head in a hundred northwesters, with all manner of
ungovernable trills and quavers in the high notes, breaking into a
rough falsetto--and in the low ones, growling along like the dying away
of the boatswain's "all hands ahoy!" down the hatch-way, singing, "Oh,
no, we never mention him."
"Perhaps, like me, he struggles with
Each feeling of regret;
But if he's loved as I have loved,
He never can forget!"
The last line, being the conclusion, he roared out at the top of his
voice, breaking each word up into half a dozen syllables. This was very
popular, and Jack was called upon every night to give them his
"sentimental song." No one called for it more loudly than I, for the
complete absurdity of the execution, and the sailors' perfect
satisfaction in it, were ludicrous beyond measure.
The next day, the California commenced unloading her cargo; and her
boats' crews, in coming and going, sang their boat-songs, keeping time
with their oars. This they did all day long for several days, until
their hides were all discharged, when a gang of them were sent on board
the Alert, to help us steeve our hides. This was a windfall for us, for
they had a set of new songs for the capstan and fall, and ours had got
nearly worn out by six weeks' constant use. I have no doubt that this
timely reinforcement of songs hastened our work several days.
Our cargo was now nearly all taken in; and my old friend, the Pilgrim,
having completed her discharge, unmoored, to set sail the next morning
on another long trip to windward. I was just thinking of her hard lot,
and congratulating myself upon my escape from her, when I received a
summons into the cabin. I went aft, and there found, seated round the
cabin table, my own captain, Captain Faucon of the Pilgrim, and Mr.
R----, the agent. Captain T---- turned to me and asked abruptly--
"D----, do you want to go home in the ship?"
"Certainly, sir," said I; "I expect to go home in the ship."
"Then," said he, "you must get some one to go in your place on board
the Pilgrim."
I was so completely "taken aback" by this sudden intimation, that for a
moment I could make no reply. I knew that it would be hopeless to
attempt to prevail upon any of the ship's crew to take twelve months
more upon the California in the brig. I knew, too, that Captain T----
had received orders to bring me home in the Alert, and he had told me,
when I was at the hide-house, that I was to go home in her; and even if
this had not been so, it was cruel to give me no notice of the step
they were going to take, until a few hours before the brig would sail.
As soon as I had got my wits about me, I put on a bold front, and told
him plainly that I had a letter in my chest informing me that he had
been written to, by the owners in Boston, to bring me home in the ship,
and moreover, that he had told me that I was to go in the ship.
To have this told him, and to be opposed in such a manner, was more
than my lord paramount had been used to.
He turned fiercely upon me, and tried to look me down, and face me out
of my statement; but finding that that wouldn't do, and that I was
entering upon my defence in such a way as would show to the other two
that he was in the wrong,--he changed his ground, and pointed to the
shipping papers of the Pilgrim, from which my name had never been
erased, and said that there was my name,--that I belonged to her,--that
he had an absolute discretionary power,--and, in short, that I must be
on board the Pilgrim by the next morning with my chest and hammock, or
have some one ready to go in my place, and that he would not hear
another word from me. No court or star chamber could proceed more
summarily with a poor devil, than this trio was about to do with me;
condemning me to a punishment worse than a Botany Bay exile, and to a
fate which would alter the whole current of my future life; for two
years more in California would have made me a sailor for the rest of my
days. I felt all this, and saw the necessity of being determined. I
repeated what I had said, and insisted upon my right to return in the
ship.
I "raised my arm, and tauld my crack,
Before them a'."
But it would have all availed me nothing, had I been "some poor body,"
before this absolute, domineering tribunal. But they saw that I would
not go, unless "vi et armis," and they knew that I had friends and
interest enough at home to make them suffer for any injustice they
might do me. It was probably this that turned the matter; for the
captain changed his tone entirely, and asked me if, in case any one
went in my place, I would give him the same sum that S---- gave Harris
to exchange with him. I told him that if any one was sent on board the
brig, I should pity him, and be willing to help him to that, or almost
any amount; but would not speak of it as an exchange.
"Very well," said he. "Go forward about your business, and send
English Ben here to me!"
I went forward with a light heart, but feeling as angry, and as much
contempt as I could well contain between my teeth. English Ben was
sent aft, and in a few moments came forward, looking as though he had
received his sentence to be hung. The captain had told him to get his
things ready to go on board the brig the next morning; and that I would
give him thirty dollars and a suit of clothes. The hands had "knocked
off" for dinner, and were standing about the forecastle, when Ben came
forward and told his story. I could see plainly that it made a great
excitement, and that, unless I explained the matter to them, the
feeling would be turned against me. Ben was a poor English boy, a
stranger in Boston, and without friends or money; and being an active,
willing lad, and a good sailor for his years, was a general favorite.
"Oh, yes!" said the crew, "the captain has let you off, because you are
a gentleman's son, and have got friends, and know the owners; and taken
Ben, because he is poor, and has got nobody to say a word for him!" I
knew that this was too true to be answered, but I excused myself from
any blame, and told them that I had a right to go home, at all events.
This pacified them a little, but Jack had got a notion that a poor lad
was to be imposed upon, and did not distinguish very clearly; and
though I knew that I was in no fault, and, in fact, had barely escaped
the grossest injustice, yet I felt that my berth was getting to be a
disagreeable one. The notion that I was not "one of them," which, by a
participation in all their labor and hardships, and having no favor
shown me, had been laid asleep, was beginning to revive. But far
stronger than any feeling for myself, was the pity I felt for the poor
lad. He had depended upon going home in the ship; and from Boston, was
going immediately to Liverpool, to see his friends. Beside this,
having begun the voyage with very few clothes, he had taken up the
greater part of his wages in the slop-chest, and it was every day a
losing concern to him; and, like all the rest of the crew, he had a
hearty hatred of California, and the prospect of eighteen months or two
years more of hide-droghing seemed completely to break down his spirit.
I had determined not to go myself, happen what would, and I knew that
the captain would not dare to attempt to force me. I knew, too, that
the two captains had agreed together to get some one, and that unless I
could prevail upon somebody to go voluntarily, there would be no help
for Ben. From this consideration, though I had said that I would have
nothing to do with an exchange, I did my best to get some one to go
voluntarily. I offered to give an order upon the owners in Boston for
six months' wages, and also all the clothes, books, and other matters,
which I should not want upon the voyage home. When this offer was
published in the ship, and the case of poor Ben was set forth in strong
colors, several, who would not have dreamed of going themselves, were
busy in talking it up to others, who, they thought, might be tempted to
accept it; and, at length, one fellow, a harum-scarum lad, whom we
called Harry Bluff, and who did not care what country or ship he was
in, if he had clothes enough and money enough--partly from pity for
Ben, and partly from the thought he should have "cruising money" for
the rest of his stay,--came forward, and offered to go and "sling his
hammock in the bloody hooker." Lest his purpose should cool, I signed
an order for the sum upon the owners in Boston, gave him all the
clothes I could spare, and sent him aft to the captain, to let him know
what had been done. The skipper accepted the exchange, and was,
doubtless, glad to have it pass off so easily. At the same time he
cashed the order, which was endorsed to him,[1] and the next morning,
the lad went aboard the brig, apparently in good spirits, having shaken
hands with each of us and wished us a pleasant passage home, jingling
the money in his pockets, and calling out, "Never say die, while
there's a shot in the locker." The same boat carried off Harris, my
old watchmate, who had previously made an exchange with my friend S----.
I was sorry to part with Harris. Nearly two hundred hours (as we had
calculated it) had we walked the ship's deck together, at anchor watch,
when all hands were below, and talked over and over every subject which
came within the ken of either of us. He gave me a strong gripe with
his hand; and I told him, if he came to Boston again, not to fail to
find me out, and let me see an old watchmate. The same boat brought on
board S----, my friend, who had begun the voyage with me from Boston,
and, like me, was going back to his family and to the society which we
had been born and brought up in. We congratulated one another upon
finding what we had long talked over and wished for, thus brought
about; and none on board the ship were more glad than ourselves to see
the old brig standing round the point, under full sail. As she passed
abreast of us, we all collected in the waist, and gave her three loud,
hearty cheers, waving our hats in the air. Her crew sprang into the
rigging and chains, answered us with three as loud, to which we, after
the nautical custom, gave one in return. I took my last look of their
familiar faces as they got over the rail, and saw the old black cook
put his head out of the galley, and wave his cap over his head. The
crew flew aloft to loose the top-gallant sails and royals; the two
captains waved their hands to one another; and, in ten minutes, we saw
the last inch of her white canvas, as she rounded the point.
Relieved as I was to see her well off, (and I felt like one who had
just sprung from an iron trap which was closing upon him) I had yet a
feeling of regret at taking the last look at the old craft in which I
had spent a year, and the first year, of my sailor's life--which had
been my first home in the new world into which I had entered--and with
which I had associated so many things,--my first leaving home, my first
crossing the equator, Cape Horn, Juan Fernandez, death at sea, and
other things, serious and common. Yet, with all this, and the feeling
I had for my old shipmates, condemned to another term of California
life, the thought that we were done with it, and that one week more
would see us on our way to Boston, was a cure for everything.
Friday, May 6th, completed the taking of our cargo, and was a memorable
day in our calendar. The time when we were to take in our last hide,
we had looked forward to, for sixteen months, as the first bright spot.
When the last hide was stowed away, and the hatches calked down, the
tarpaulins battened on to them, the long-boat hoisted in and secured,
and the decks swept down for the night,--the chief mate sprang upon the
top of the long-boat, called all hands into the waist, and giving us a
signal by swinging his cap over his head,--we gave three long, loud
cheers, which came from the bottom of our hearts, and made the hills
and valleys ring again. In a moment, we heard three, in answer, from
the California's crew, who had seen us taking in our long-boat,
and--"the cry they heard--its meaning knew."
The last week, we had been occupied in taking in a supply of wood and
water for the passage home, and bringing on board the spare spars,
sails, etc. I was sent off with a party of Indians to fill the
water-casks, at a spring, about three miles from the shipping, and near
the town, and was absent three days, living at the town, and spending
the daytime in filling the casks and transporting them on ox-carts to
the landing-place, whence they were taken on board by the crew with
boats. This being all done with, we gave one day to bending our sails;
and at night, every sail, from the courses to the skysails, was bent,
and every studding-sail ready for setting.
Before our sailing, an unsuccessful attempt was made by one of the crew
of the California to effect an exchange with one of our number. It was
a lad, between fifteen and sixteen years of age, who went by the name
of the "reefer," having been a midshipman in an East India Company's
ship. His singular character and story had excited our interest ever
since the ship came into the port. He was a delicate, slender little
fellow, with a beautiful pearly complexion, regular features, forehead
as white as marble, black haired, curling beautifully, rounded,
tapering, delicate fingers, small feet, soft voice, gentle manners,
and, in fact, every sign of having been well born and bred. At the
same time there was something in his expression which showed a slight
deficiency of intellect. How great the deficiency was, or what it
resulted from; whether he was born so; whether it was the result of
disease or accident; or whether, as some said, it was brought on by his
distress of mind, during the voyage, I cannot say. From his own
account of himself, and from many circumstances which were known in
connection with his story, he must have been the son of a man of
wealth. His mother was an Italian woman. He was probably a natural
son, for in scarcely any other way could the incidents of his early
life be accounted for. He said that his parents did not live together,
and he seemed to have been ill treated by his father. Though he had
been delicately brought up, and indulged in every way, (and he had then
with him trinkets which had been given him at home,) yet his education
had been sadly neglected; and when only twelve years old, he was sent
as midshipman in the Company's service. His own story was, that he
afterwards ran away from home, upon a difficulty which he had with his
father, and went to Liverpool, whence he sailed in the ship Rialto,
Captain Holmes, for Boston. Captain Holmes endeavored to get him a
passage back, but there being no vessel to sail for some time, the boy
left him, and went to board at a common sailor's boarding-house, in Ann
street, where he supported himself for a few weeks by selling some of
his valuables. At length, according to his own account, being desirous
of returning home, he went to a shipping-office, where the shipping
articles of the California were open. Upon asking where the ship was
going, he was told by the shipping-master that she was bound to
California. Not knowing where that was, he told him that he wanted to
go to Europe, and asked if California was in Europe. The
shipping-master answered him in a way which the boy did not understand,
and advised him to ship. The boy signed the articles, received his
advance, laid out a little of it in clothes, and spent the rest, and
was ready to go on board, when, upon the morning of sailing, he heard
that the ship was bound upon the North-west Coast, on a two or three
years' voyage, and was not going to Europe. Frightened at this
prospect, he slipped away when the crew was going aboard, wandered up
into another part of the town, and spent all the forenoon in straying
about the common, and the neighboring streets.
Having no money, and all his clothes and other things being in the
chest, on board, and being a stranger, he became tired and hungry, and
ventured down toward the shipping, to see if the vessel had sailed. He
was just turning the corner of a street, when the shipping-master, who
had been in search of him, popped upon him, seized him, and carried him
on board. He cried and struggled, and said he did not wish to go in
the ship, but the topsails were at the mast-head, the fasts just ready
to be cast off, and everything in the hurry and confusion of departure,
so that he was hardly noticed; and the few who did inquire about the
matter were told that it was merely a boy who had spent his advance and
tried to run away. Had the owners of the vessel known anything of the
matter, they would have interfered at once; but they either knew
nothing of it, or heard, like the rest, that it was only an unruly boy
who was sick of his bargain. As soon as the boy found himself actually
at sea, and upon a voyage of two or three years in length, his spirits
failed him; he refused to work, and became so miserable, that Captain
Arthur took him into the cabin, where he assisted the steward, and
occasionally pulled and hauled about decks. He was in this capacity
when we saw him; and though it was much better for him than the life in
the forecastle, and the hard work, watching, and exposure, which his
delicate frame could not have borne, yet, to be joined with a black
fellow in waiting upon a man whom he probably looked upon as but
little, in point of education and manners, above one of his father's
servants, was almost too much for his spirit to bear. Had he entered
upon his situation of his own free will, he could have endured it; but
to have been deceived, and, in addition to that, forced into it, was
intolerable. He made every effort to go home in our ship, but his
captain refused to part with him except in the way of exchange, and
that he could not effect. If this account of the whole matter, which
we had from the boy, and which was confirmed by all the crew, be
correct, I cannot understand why Captain Arthur should have refused to
let him go, especially being a captain who had the name, not only with
that crew, but with all whom he had ever commanded, of an unusually
kind-hearted man.
The truth is, the unlimited power which merchant captains have, upon
long voyages on strange coasts, takes away a sense of responsibility,
and too often, even in men otherwise well-disposed, substitutes a
disregard for the rights and feelings of others. The lad was sent on
shore to join the gang at the hide-house; from whence, I was afterwards
rejoiced to hear, he effected his escape, and went down to Callao in a
small Spanish schooner; and from Callao, he probably returned to
England.
Soon after the arrival of the California, I spoke to Captain Arthur
about Hope; and as he had known him on the voyage before, and was very
fond of him, he immediately went to see him, gave him proper medicines,
and, under such care, he began rapidly to recover. The Saturday night
before our sailing, I spent an hour in the oven, and took leave of my
Kanaka friends; and, really, this was the only thing connected with
leaving California which was in any way unpleasant. I felt an interest
and affection for many of these simple, true-hearted men, such as I
never felt before but for a near relation. Hope shook me by the hand,
said he should soon be well again, and ready to work for me when I came
upon the coast, next voyage, as officer of the ship; and told me not to
forget, when I became captain, how to be kind to the sick. Old "Mr.
Bingham" and "King Mannini" went down to the boat with me, shook me
heartily by the hand, wished us a good voyage, and went back to the
oven, chanting one of their deep monotonous songs, the burden of which
I gathered to be about us and our voyage.
Sunday, May 8th. This promised to be our last day in California.
Our forty thousand hides, thirty thousand horns, besides several
barrels of otter and beaver skins, were all stowed below, and the
hatches calked down. All our spare spars were taken on board and
lashed; our water-casks secured; and our live stock, consisting of four
bullocks, a dozen sheep, a dozen or more pigs, and three or four dozen
of poultry, were all stowed away in their different quarters: the
bullocks in the long-boat, the sheep in a pen on the fore-hatch, and
the pigs in a sty under the bows of the long-boat, and the poultry in
their proper coop; and the jolly-boat was full of hay for the sheep and
bullocks. Our unusually large cargo, together with the stores for a
five months' voyage, brought the ship channels down into the water. In
addition to this, she had been steeved so thoroughly, and was so bound
by the compression of her cargo, forced into her by so powerful
machinery, that she was like a man in a straight-jacket, and would be
but a dull sailer, until she had worked herself loose.
The California had finished discharging her cargo, and was to get under
weigh at the same time with us. Having washed down decks and got our
breakfast, the two vessels lay side by side, in complete readiness for
sea, our ensigns hanging from the peaks, and our tall spars reflected
from the glassy surface of the river, which, since sunrise, had been
unbroken by a ripple. At length, a few whiffs came across the water,
and, by eleven o'clock, the regular north-west wind set steadily in.
There was no need of calling all hands, for we had all been hanging
about the forecastle the whole forenoon, and were ready for a start
upon the first sign of a breeze.
All eyes were aft upon the captain, who was walking the deck, with,
every now and then, a look to windward. He made a sign to the mate,
who came forward, took his station, deliberately between the
knight-heads, cast a glance aloft, and called out, "All hands, lay
aloft and loose the sails!" We were half in the rigging before the
order came, and never since we left Boston were the gaskets off the
yards, and the rigging overhauled, in a shorter time. "All ready
forward, sir!"--"All ready the main!"--"Cross-jack yards all ready,
sir!"--"Lay down, all hands but one on each yard!" The yard-arm and
bunt gaskets were cast off; and each sail hung by the jigger, with one
man standing by the tie to let it go. At the same moment that we
sprang aloft, a dozen hands sprang into the rigging of the California,
and in an instant were all over her yards; and her sails, too, were
ready to be dropped at the word. In the mean time our bow gun had been
loaded and run out, and its discharge was to be the signal for dropping
sails. A cloud of smoke came out of our bows; the echoes of the gun
rattled our farewell among the hills of California; and the two ships
were covered, from head to foot, with their white canvas. For a few
minutes, all was uproar and apparent confusion: men flying about like
monkeys in the rigging; ropes and blocks flying; orders given and
answered, and the confused noises of men singing out at the ropes. The
top-sails came to the mast-heads with "Cheerily, men!" and, in a few
minutes, every sail was set; for the wind was light. The head sails
were backed, the windlass came round "slip-slap" to the cry of the
sailors;--"Hove short, sir," said the mate;--"Up with him!"--"Aye, aye,
sir."--A few hearty and long heaves, and the anchor showed its head.
"Hook cat!"--The fall was stretched along the decks; all hands laid
hold;--"Hurrah, for the last time," said the mate; and the anchor came
to the cat-head to the tune of "Time for us to go," with a loud chorus.
Everything was done quick, as though it were for the last time. The
head yards were filled away, and our ship began to move through the
water on her homeward-bound course.
The California had got under weigh at the same moment; and we sailed
down the narrow bay abreast and were just off the mouth, and finding
ourselves gradually shooting ahead of her, were on the point of giving
her three parting cheers, when, suddenly, we found ourselves stopped
short, and the California ranging fast ahead of us. A bar stretches
across the mouth of the harbor, with water enough to float common
vessels, but, being low in the water, and having kept well to leeward,
as we were bound to the southward, we had stuck fast, while the
California, being light, had floated over.
We kept all sail on, in the hope of forcing over, but failing in this,
we hove aback, and lay waiting for the tide, which was on the flood, to
take us back into the channel. This was somewhat of a damper to us,
and the captain looked not a little mortified and vexed. "This is the
same place where the Rosa got ashore," observed the redheaded second
mate, most mal-a-propos. A malediction on the Rosa, and him too, was
all the answer he got, and he slunk off to leeward. In a few minutes,
the force of the wind and the rising of the tide backed us into the
stream, and we were on our way to our old anchoring-place, the tide
setting swiftly up, and the ship barely manageable, in the light
breeze. We came-to, in our old berth, opposite the hide-house, whose
inmates were not a little surprised to see us return. We felt as
though we were tied to California; and some of the crew swore that they
never should get clear of the bloody coast.
In about half an hour, which was near high water, the order was given
to man the windlass, and again the anchor was catted; but not a word
was said about the last time. The California had come back on finding
that we had returned, and was hove-to, waiting for us, off the point.
This time we passed the bar safely, and were soon up with the
California, who filled away, and kept us company.
She seemed desirous of a trial of speed, and our captain accepted the
challenge, although we were loaded down to the bolts of our chain
plates, as deep as a sand-barge, and bound so taut with our cargo
that we were no more fit for a race than a man in fetters;--while our
antagonist was in her best trim. Being clear of the point, the breeze
became stiff, and the royal masts bent under our sails, but we would
not take them in until we saw three boys spring aloft into the rigging
of the California; when they were all furled at once, but with orders
to stay aloft at the top-gallant mastheads, and loose them again at the
word. It was my duty to furl the fore royal; and while standing by to
loose it again, I had a fine view of the scene. From where I stood,
the two vessels seemed nothing but spars and sails, while their narrow
decks, far below, slanting over by the force of the wind aloft,
appeared hardly capable of supporting the great fabrics raised upon
them. The California was to windward of us, and had every advantage;
yet, while the breeze was stiff, we held our own. As soon as it began
to slacken, she ranged a little ahead, and the order was given to loose
the royals. In an instant the gaskets were off and the bunt dropped.
"Sheet home the fore royal!--Weather sheet's home!"--"Hoist away, sir!"
is bawled from aloft. "Overhaul your clew-lines!" shouts the mate.
"Aye, aye, sir, all clear!"--"taut leech! belay! Well the lee brace;
haul taut to windward"--and the royals are set. These brought us up
again; but the wind continuing light, the California set hers, and it
was soon evident that she was walking away from us. Our captain then
hailed, and said that he should keep off to his course; adding--"She
isn't the Alert now. If I had her in your trim, she would have been
out of sight by this time." This was good-naturedly answered from the
California, and she braced sharp up, and stood close upon the wind up
the coast; while we squared away our yards, and stood before the wind
to the south-south-west. The California's crew manned her weather
rigging, waved their hats in the air, and gave up three hearty cheers,
which we answered as heartily, and the customary single cheer came back
to us from over the water. She stood on her way, doomed to eighteen
months' or two years' hard service upon that hated coast, while we were
making our way to our home, to which every hour and every mile was
bringing us nearer.
As soon as we parted company with the California, all hands were sent
aloft to set the studding-sails. Booms were rigged out, tacks and
halyards rove, sail after sail packed upon her, until every available
inch of canvas was spread, that we might not lose a breath of the fair
wind. We could now see how much she was cramped and deadened by her
cargo; for with a good breeze on her quarter, and every stitch of
canvas spread, we could not get more than six knots out of her. She
had no more life in her than if she were water-logged. The log was
hove several times; but she was doing her best. We had hardly patience
with her, but the older sailors said--"Stand by! you'll see her work
herself loose in a week or two, and then she'll walk up to Cape Horn
like a race-horse."
When all sail had been set, and the decks cleared up, the California
was a speck in the horizon, and the coast lay like a low cloud along
the north-east. At sunset they were both out of sight, and we were
once more upon the ocean where sky and water meet.
[1] When the crew were paid off in Boston, the owners answered the
order, but generously refused to deduct the amount from the pay-roll,
saying that the exchange was made under compulsion. They also allowed
S---- his exchange money.