voyage; and, careless of consequences, I entered it as a common sailor,
little aware of the trials I was about to endure. A fit of sea-sickness
made me soon repent of the rash step that I had taken; but it was too
late to return; the vessel kept mercilessly on its course, carrying me
away from my only true friends. The tyranny of the coarse captain
brought painfully to my remembrance the indulgence I had always received
from my kind parent, whose only weakness was the readiness with which he
yielded to my wishes.
"At first I refused to have any thing to say to my messmates, many of
whom were morally better than myself; but I was naturally social, and,
soon forgetting my refined education, began to enjoy their conversation.
I became quite a hero among them, and led them into mischief in every
port at which we stopped. Many of our pranks would have brought us
before the civil authority, had we not sailed away before their
authorship was ascertained.
"After an absence of three years I returned to New York, with nothing in
the world which I could call my own but my sailor's clothes and my last
month's wages. As soon as we were discharged I repaired to a low tavern
near the dock, with some of the most unworthy of the crew, determined
that my family should never hear of my arrival in the country. On taking
up a paper one day, I saw, to my surprise, among the advertised letters
one to myself, which was speedily procured for me by a messmate, as I
was anxious not to be seen in the more frequented part of the city.
"The letter was from Louisa. I have it still, but it is too sacred to
meet any eyes but my own. It contained all that Christian principle and
sisterly affection could dictate to recall a wanderer home, and it went
to my heart. Inclosed was a large sum of money, the fruit of her own
labor during my absence; and she informed me that another letter
containing a similar inclosure was in the post-office at Boston. After
much inquiry, my father had discovered the name of the ship in which I
had sailed, and the probable length of its cruise, and therefore Louisa
had expected my return to one of these ports during the summer, if I was
still alive. Our dear parent, she informed me, was ready to receive me
with open arms; and, for herself, her affection had undergone no change.
"You will of course conclude that I did not delay one moment, after the
receipt of this letter, returning to a home where such an angelic being
waited to receive me. It seems impossible to me, now, that I could have
done otherwise. Yet so it was. Pride, my besetting sin, made me inflict
still deeper wounds on that gentle heart.
"I had determined, as soon as I could procure suitable clothing, to go
directly to Charlottesville, for that was the name of our village; and
for this purpose I walked for the first time toward the business quarter
of the city. As I was going up Broadway, in my ragged sailor's dress,
keeping close to the inside of the walk to escape observation, I saw a
pale, slender girl coming towards me, accompanied by two gentlemen, one
of whom was a fine-looking officer, in a naval uniform. The lady was
engaged in animated discourse, and, by the pleasant countenance of the
gentlemen, very agreeable, for one laughed aloud, apparently at some
remark which had dropped from her lips.
"In an instant I recognized my sister, and was ready to fall on my knees
before her; but then I remembered my own shabby appearance, and deferred
our meeting till I could execute my present design, and make myself more
respectable.
"As I passed I saw her face grow sad, for she caught a glimpse of my
dress, and though the glance was too hasty for her to recognize me, yet
I doubt not that it brought her poor brother to her mind, for I heard
her sigh deeply.
"As I went on my way, my mind was full of bitterness. Whenever I had
done wrong myself, I always began to imagine that others had injured me;
and now I tried to persuade myself that Louisa was indifferent to my
welfare, and had only sent me money for fear that I should disgrace her
by appearing again at home. 'Proud girl!' I exclaimed, 'you need not
fear that such a miserable wretch will claim your relationship, or
disturb your enjoyment of congenial society.'
"When Satan can find entrance into the soul for such wicked thoughts,
they soon drive out all better ones; and, before I had reached the
tailor's shop to which I was going, I had determined never to return
home.
"Without taking any notice of the letter I had received from Louisa, I
secured a berth immediately in a vessel bound for the Pacific, and for
three years again deserted my native land.
"About eighteen months after this ship sailed, we fell in with a
man-of-war, and I went on board. The moment that I saw the captain I
recognized in him the officer whom I had seen with my sister in New
York. For once the love of home was stronger than my pride, and I asked
anxiously if he could tell me any thing of Miss Louisa Colman.
"The instant that I made this inquiry, the captain gave me a keen,
scrutinizing glance, and then replied quickly,--'You are the brother
Richard, I presume, of whose fate Miss Colman has been so long
uncertain?'
"I was taken too much by surprise to deny this fact, and Captain Hall
continued,--'I had the pleasure of becoming intimate in Dr. Colman's
family, and my wife is devotedly attached to your sweet sister. Through
her I heard of your absence from home, and the grief it had given to all
who loved you. My belonging to the navy seemed to give me an interest
in Miss Louisa's eyes, and shortly before I sailed, she implored me to
make inquiry of every ship which came in my way, to discover, if
possible, whether you were still among the living.'
"'I saw her in New York,' I remarked very coldly, as the scene in
Broadway recurred to my mind; 'and though it was only for a moment, I
perceived that she was in excellent spirits.'
"'Miss Louisa Colman can never be long unhappy,' he replied, sternly,
'while she leans on Heaven and employs her whole time in doing good to
others. Misery is their lot alone, who, to gratify their own selfish
whims, will trample on the happiness even of their dearest friends.'
"I felt the reproof contained in these words, but was too proud to show
any emotion, even when Captain Hall gave me a description of the scene
at home, after my first departure became known. In her grief, Louisa
never forgot what was due to her father, and the cheerfulness which she
managed to maintain, notwithstanding her affliction, was all that
supported his broken spirit. Captain Hall then informed me that the old
man's health was failing, and his last letters from America had spoken
of his increased weakness.
"This information was a dreadful blow, but it did not make me a better
man. I tried to drown sorrow in intoxication, and almost obliterated the
remembrance of home, excepting when, in the silence of night, it would
come over me with irresistible power.
"When, after the lapse of three years, I once more approached my native
land, I was much more unworthy of being recognized by my friends than in
returning from my previous voyage. Still I proceeded directly to
Charlottesville, and stopped at the old mansion, which I had not seen
for six long years. Alas! it was tenanted by strangers. A new tombstone
was in the village grave-yard, and on one side of it the name of my
father, and the other bore my own. I asked the sexton, who was just
opening the church for an evening lecture, when Richard Colman died. He
replied very readily,--'O, about a year since. The old gentleman heard
of the loss of the vessel in which he sailed, and dropped away himself
very suddenly.'
"I dared not inquire after Louisa, for I felt that she must look upon me
as the destroyer of our father. I hastened to Boston, and had determined
on leaving the country for ever, when, by accident, I had tidings of my
sweet sister.
"After the melancholy information I obtained at Charlottesville, I had
become a temperance man, and took up my abode at the Sailor's Home.
While there, a poor man, who had been ill for months, and finally was
obliged to have his leg amputated, spoke often of the goodness of a
young lady who had been often to see him, and whom he considered almost
an angel. My curiosity was excited, and I inquired of the excellent
landlady the name of his friend, and was answered by a warm tribute of
praise to my own sister. I found that she was living in the family of an
aunt, and was devoted to benevolent objects of all kinds, but chiefly
interested in schemes for improving the temporal and spiritual condition
of seamen. O, my poor Louisa! I knew, at that moment, that love for her
miserable brother's memory had dictated these exertions.
"Yet even then I did not seek to see her. 'I will leave her in peace,' I
said to myself, 'for she thinks I am dead, and it would be better for
her if I really were.' Still, now that she was alone, I could not bear
to go so far from her again, and therefore made up my mind to enter the
fishing-service, that I might not long be absent from the city.
"You may remember the day that Captain Peck brought the Bibles on board,
which had been left for distribution by a lady of Boston. That lady was
my sister, and I trust that the bread which she thus cast upon the
waters may indeed be returned to her before many days. I have read that
Bible daily, first, because it was her gift, and then because I found
that it could give me more peace than I had ever known before in my
whole life. I shall go to my sister as soon as we return, and I feel
that she will not cast me away. I have so impaired my constitution, that
only a few years may remain to me; but whatever time I am spared shall
be spent in repaying as far as possible her unwearied affection.
"I have written this story with great reluctance, but my heart was
almost breaking from so long repressing its emotions. You are still
boys. Try, then, while it is in your power, to make those who love you
happy, instead of laying up years of remorse and misery by selfish
indulgence of your own wishes, at the expense of their comfort and
peace. Read now the book which I have so lately learned to prize, and
you will not have to look back upon the grave of a father whom you never
honored, and the counsels of a mother so long despised."
Poor Dick! Although he was so unkind, do you not feel very sorry for
him, Bennie? I long so to hear of his meeting with his sister, that I am
really impatient to return. David did not say much after reading this
story, but I know he thinks a great deal about it. Yesterday he said to
me,--"Did you ever know, Pidgie, that girls were so tender-hearted? I
think I must often have hurt my little sister's feelings. She is a good
little thing, and, though not quite so pretty as that picture of Louisa
Colman, yet a very fair-looking girl in her way."
I suppose this long letter will not go till I have a chance of writing
another, all about myself; but if it does, you ca imagine that I am
spending my time pretty much as I have described before; and believe me
still your affectionate cousin,
PIDGIE.
LETTER VIII.
DAVID'S GLIMPSE OF NOBILITY.
FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE.
Schooner Go-Ahead, August 16th, 1846.
You will see by the date, dear Bennie, that more than two weeks have
passed since I last wrote to you. In the mean time your poor cousin
Pidgie has been lying on his straw-bed, sick with a fever. It has been
rather gloomy, to be sure; but now that I am better I can think of
nothing but the kindness of the sailors. It must be the salt water which
keeps their hearts so good and warm, for when any one is in real trouble
they are as tender as little children. There were two or three of them,
whom I had not even thought worth mentioning, that spent every moment,
when they were not busy, in trying to amuse me. One had been to China,
and you don't know how many curious things he had seen there. He tells
me that there is a Chinese museum in Boston, and when I go back there I
shall visit it, and I will try and remember every thing worthy of notice
to tell you on my return. How many pleasant evenings we shall spend
together, in the old school-room at Bellisle, with all the girls sitting
by the long window, or near us out on the porch!
I love the sea, and yet I long to take a stroll down the lawn before
your door on the sweet green grass. It is a blessed thing that
travelling of any kind has so much to interest, or else how would any
one ever be able to make up his mind to leave home?
Since I have heard poor Dick's story I don't much wish to go to a public
school; but Clarendon says that's a silly prejudice, for it was the same
disposition which made him unhappy at home, that prevented the school
from being of service to him. Yet I am afraid that I have not principle
enough to go among so many boys and do what is right. It is harder to be
laughed at by those of our own age than by older people. I have learned
this lately, for I find that I don't feel half as much ashamed when
brother makes fun of what he calls my Methodistical habits, as I do of
David's ridicule. He has a way of putting aside all the reasons I give
him for doing right, as if they were so utterly unworthy of a boy's
consideration, that I hardly dare to try and argue with him.
A few nights since, one of the old sailors took out a pack of greasy
cards, and, calling to one of his companions, said that he would teach
David and I to play a two-handed game, which we should find very
amusing. David was all eagerness to learn; but I told him that I had
rather not touch them.
"Nonsense, man!" said David; "I thought that you had too much sense to
be afraid of little pieces of pasteboard, with red and black spots on
them. They are not going to poison you."
"But I have promised my mother that I would never play cards," I
replied; "and, besides, it would give me no pleasure, for I have heard
of so much evil from the use of them that I cannot see them without
pain."
The old sailor, who had only wished to please me, was very angry at what
I said, and began swearing dreadfully. David tried to pacify him, and
proposed that they should take a game together, and he'd be bound that I
would want to play before they had done with it.
"Would you wish," I asked, "that I should be tempted to break a promise
to a widowed mother, who never in my life denied me any thing that was
reasonable?"
"No!" said David, after a moment's thought; "give me your hand! You are
perfectly right, and I honor you for it."
Before he had time to say any more, Brown Tom came in to look for a gun,
which had been brought on board; for the water was covered with ducks,
and he was anxious to have a shot at them. I should like to try my hand
in the same way; for when fish and birds are used for food, my
conscience don't hurt me about killing them. That's the reason that I
like mackerel-fishing, though I have no fondness for mackerels
themselves, for they are cannibals. We use a piece of one for bait for
the rest, and don't have lines more than three or four yards long. This
is a very different thing from catching cod, where they pull them up
through many fathoms of water. Clary says that next year he means to go
out to the Banks for cod, if he can get some of his friends to make up a
party for the purpose. You never saw any one so changed as he is.
Last week there came up a storm, when we were near the land, and they
hauled into port. Clarendon walked off on shore in his fishing-clothes,
without appearing in the least ashamed of them, and went to make a call
on a gentleman in the place, whom he had seen in Virginia a year or two
since. I wish I had been well enough to have gone with him, for he saw a
great many things which were new to him, and he says that British
America is as different from the United States as if it were not a part
of the same continent. None of the crew minded walking about on shore in
the rain, and while they were gone I was alone, excepting Dick, and he
was on deck writing a letter to his sister, to send across the country
and prepare her for his return; for you know she thinks that he is dead.
When David came back, though, I had fun enough; for he gave me the most
amusing description of every thing he had seen.
"Hurrah for New England!" he exclaimed, as soon as he got on board.
"John Bull don't beat Brother Jonathan yet. Let them talk of their lords
and their ladies; there is not a gentleman in Boston that is not quite
as noble-looking as the one that I saw, and a great deal more knowing, I
can tell you. We saw a splendid carriage and four, with a troop of
soldiers in red tramping after it, and a passably pretty flag flying
over them. I asked a little boy whom we met what they were about, and he
replied, that they were escorting a great British general, who had just
come over to the Provinces. I ran forward to get a peep at the wonder,
and had a good stare at the old fellow; and such another fright you
never saw. I wished I had a temperance tract to give him, for his face
was redder than the sun last night, when it went down in a cloud, and
his eyes looked like stoppers to a whiskey-bottle, which had got soaked
through. He'd better not have much to do with fire-arms, for he'd blow
up to a certainty. They say he lies in bed till twelve o'clock every
day, and then does nothing but just drink and eat, and drink and smoke,
till midnight. I am glad that our government has no such loafers to
maintain."
"But did not the place itself look flourishing?" I asked, amused at his
warmth.
"No, indeed!" he replied; "every body had a constrained air, as if they
were in bondage, and it made my blood boil to see two fine-appearing
men waiting so obsequiously on a good-for-nothing young scamp, just
because he had a title to his name. I hope that I shall never live to
see the day when there is any such nonsense tagging to my label as they
string on to theirs. How much better George Washington sounds than the
Honorable Alexis Fiddle Faddle, &c."
"That's a nobleman I never heard of," said old Jack, laughing at David's
vexation; "but Nelson is a very fine-sounding name, for all it's an
English one."
"And the Duke of Wellington, too," said I, "is not an ugly title, and I
would give a great deal to see the man who bears it."
"Ah! ah!" said David, shaking his head; "you Virginians will never get
over some of those Tory notions you got from the old Cavaliers, that had
to clear out of England when Cromwell made it too hot for them."
"And you Yankees," I replied, with equal warmth, "will always have the
blind obstinacy of the Barebones Parliament, and think that there is no
morality or religion in the world but your own, and that calling a man
an ugly name will make him a better Christian."
We might have gone on disputing thus till we had made each other very
angry, had not Old Jack stopped us by saying,--"Come, come, boys, be
done quarrelling! Don't you both belong to the same country? When you
have sailed round the world as I have, Old Virginny and Boston Bay will
seem all the same thing, and you will love every inch of ground over
which the stripes and the stars wave. I love all Yankees, from Maine to
Texas; and if we would only keep tight together, we could whip all the
world."
"That's sound sense," said Clarendon, who had just come in. "We Yankees
should stick to our motto,--'United we stand, divided we fall.' In our
days, we think too much of our being 'pluribus,' and too little that we
are 'in unum.'"
Don't Clarendon deserve three cheers for that speech? To think of his
calling himself a Yankee! Why! I have seen the time when he would have
knocked any one down who had dared to say the same thing of him. And
when Jack, sung out, in a tremendous voice,--
"Hail Columbia, happy land!"
Clary joined in with all his might, and so did the rest of the sailors,
and such a singing of Yankee songs as they kept up for a full hour, you
never heard. If brother practises that kind of music, he'll find hard
work in fetching his guitar to match it.
Captain Cobb has just told us, that, when we have caught a few barrels
more of mackerel, the schooner can carry no more, and then right about
for Boston Harbour. O, how my heart jumps with delight! Home, home,
sweet home! Your happy cousin,
PIDGIE.
LETTER IX.
BOSTON LIONS.
FROM PIDGIE TO BENNIE.
Tremont House, Boston, August 27th, 1846.
You will see, dear Bennie, that I am once more on dry land, and a very
nice place it is that I have anchored in. Shortly after I last wrote to
you, the Go-Ahead had her full complement of mackerel, and, with hearty
rejoicing, we set sail for home. Fortunately, the wind was fair, and in
a few days we came in sight of Marblehead, which had lost none of its
peculiarities during our absence.
David and I were right sorry that the time of our parting was so near;
but Clarendon gave him a warm invitation to visit us in Virginia.
Captain Cobb did not think it at all unlikely that we might have a visit
from his son one of these days, for New England boys think nothing of
being a few hundred miles from home.
I did not, however, bid David good by at Marblehead, for he promised to
come up to Boston and show me the lions. On Saturday, he appeared at the
Tremont, and I scarcely knew him, for he looked so nice in a suit of new
clothes. Clarendon was glad to give me into his hands, for he is
enjoying himself in his own way with some very pleasant young gentlemen,
to whom he brought letters of introduction.
There is no use in saying that New-Englanders are not hospitable, for
brother has been invited out every day, and he says that the dinners are
quite equal to any that he has seen at home, and that the conversation
is the most intelligent to which he ever listened. David actually began
dancing for joy at this remark; for he thinks Boston men of the present
day are superior to all the rest of the human race.
You will wonder why we stay here; but the truth is, that we have no
money to get home, as brother has not yet received the drafts from
Virginia that he expected to meet him on his return from the Banks.
While waiting for them to come on, I am determined to see all that I
can, and we cruise off every morning and evening on a voyage of
discovery.
Yesterday I visited the Chinese Museum, and there will be no use now in
my going to China itself, for I can tell how every thing looks almost as
well as if I had been there. Then I saw the Institution for the Blind at
South Boston, and another for the Insane at Charlestown. David and I
just jump into the omnibus, and away we go to any of the surrounding
towns. I think I like Cambridge best of all of them, and, if 'ma sees
fit, I should prefer to go to Harvard University, for they have a
beautiful library full of nice books, and it is so near to Mount Auburn,
and I could spend a day there every week with pleasure. I don't see why
we can't have such beautiful burial-places in Virginia, for some of our
land is quite as fine. I know of a spot now which could be made such a
sweet one with a little pains. Why can't we have just such a lovely
cemetery? I will tell you more about it, and some of the pretty
monuments, when I return.
You should have seen David and I dining together at the Tremont to-day,
quite like two young gentlemen; for brother was invited out, and he
begged David to take his place. I must own that my friend's house at
Marblehead was rather a shabby old affair, and he has been brought up in
the plainest way; yet he does not show the least awkwardness at our
elegant table, but has the air of one quite accustomed to luxury. He
handles a silver fork with the greatest freedom, takes the name of every
dish readily from the bill of fare, and orders the waiters round as if
they were his own particular servants, only in such a conciliatory way,
that they seem delighted to do any thing for him.
On Sunday morning we went to a Swedenborgian church, which is one of the
most beautiful buildings in the city. It has a large window of stained
glass at one end, of such a color that it makes every thing look as if
the light of the setting sun was falling upon it. There was a curious
sort of tower opposite this window, with a kind of niche in it for a
large Bible, which the minister took out with the greatest reverence,
and he read from it all the prayers and psalms which were used. I liked
the service very well, but, of course, I prefer our own.
In the afternoon, David took me to Trinity Church, and I was perfectly
delighted to hear our dear liturgy again, after being so long deprived
of it. Some of the people did not kneel down, but I could not help doing
it, for my heart was so full.