_NEW SCENES._
THE fortnight came to an end, as all fortnights do, and the appointed
day saw us on board the good ship "Speedwell" dropping rapidly down the
bay with the tide, our party, consisting of Mr. Wyndham, the English
lawyer, who was Elmina's guardian, Aunt Belinda, Elmina, and myself,
being the only passengers. A voyage across the ocean was a greater
event in those days than it is now. Three weeks was the shortest time
in which it could be performed, and it not uncommonly consumed five or
six. We made great provision for our own private table of biscuits,
gingerbread, plum-cake, and so forth, with sundry bottles of wine and
brandy. It is curious to me, as I look back at those times, to see how
entirely wine and spirits were considered necessaries of life. My aunt
always had decanters of brandy, West India rum, and Jamaica standing on
her side-board, of which all gentleman visitors partook as a matter of
course. She had some famous Madeira, which Mr. Wyndham declared to be
the very best he had ever tasted, and she had presented him with a case
of the same to carry home. But this is by the way.
I said our party were standing on the deck, but they did not remain
there long. The wind blew fresh; and when we reached the outer harbour,
and the ship began to feel the motion, to lift her head to the waves
and drop again, my aunt and Elmina speedily became too sick to stand,
and betook themselves to their berths in the little cramped-up
state-room below. I was not sick in the least, and would have enjoyed
staying on deck, but of course it was my place to wait on my aunt and
Elmina. Our accommodations were no more like those even of the second
cabin in an ocean steamer nowadays than a log shanty is like my aunt's
drawing-room. However, my aunt, who had made the voyage several times,
said they were the nicest she had ever seen, and we were content to
make the best of them.
My aunt never complained, and was very kind and considerate to me,
often sending me on deck in the care of the captain's wife "to
refresh myself with the inhalation of the fresh air, and with such
exercise as the confined space afforded," she said; for Aunt Belinda's
conversational style was by no means at the mercy of such trifling
enemies as winds and waves.
Mrs. Clarkson was very kind to me. She was one of the most agreeable
women I ever met in my life. She had been three times married, always
to sailors, and had been more than once around the world, and she
had a wonderful faculty of describing what she had seen. I remember
she had once been shipwrecked on New Holland, as Australia was then
called, where she had all sorts of wonderful adventures, and came near
being eaten up by cannibals. She declared it was a beautiful country,
and would some time become a great nation. I remember that she was
very much interested in the subject of foreign missions—a subject on
which the American Church was just beginning to wake up. I enjoyed
her society very much, but I always found Elmina so low spirited when
I returned to her, and so certain that she should never live to see
England, that I did not like to leave her long at a time.
After a while, however, matters improved.
My aunt and Elmina so far recovered from their sea-sickness as to be
able to come on deck. Mr. Wyndham also appeared again, and resumed his
animated political discussions with my aunt on the future prospects of
the United States. Mr. Wyndham was quite certain that the independence
of the new republic could not last, that so many discordant elements
could not possibly be harmonized—that, as he expressed it, the
conglomeration would fall apart by its own weight, and its elements
would either go to utter destruction or be saved only by seeking the
protection of that country which they had disowned. I have lived to
hear similar prophecies once or twice since that day.
My aunt, who was very patriotic, and also very well informed on all
political subjects, held her own very well in these discussions, and
also kept her temper, which was more than Elmina and I could do. Of
course we took no part in the conversation, for it was a fundamental
principle of good manners in those days—and I must say one that had
its advantages—that in the company of their elders little girls were
to be seen and not heard; but we relieved our minds when we were alone
together.
"And just to think," said Elmina one day, "that I have got to live with
English people and hear just such talk for seven long years! I don't
care. I will come back to America the very minute I am of age, and
bring all Uncle Richard Vernon's money and plate, and everything, with
me, and give it to the United States to buy ships of war with; and then
see!"
I highly approved this patriotic resolve of Elmina's, but suggested
that she would want some of the property to live on.
"Well, anyhow, I will give a thousand dollars," said Elmina; "and the
ship shall be called the Olivia."
My aunt had many letters of introduction to ladies and gentlemen in
England, both English and American. She proposed, after seeing Elmina
settled in her new home, to spend some time in London, that I might
take music and drawing-lessons, since, as she said, I might never have
such another opportunity.
Travelling on the Continent was now out of the question even if my aunt
had desired it, but I don't think she did. She said, however, that
she should like to have me see the Alps, and perhaps we might visit
Switzerland before our return if public affairs should become more
settled.
"Yes, you will be having all the nice times travelling about with Aunt
Belinda and living with her in London," grumbled Elmina, "while I
shall be shut up in the country with a stupid governess whom I shall
dislike—I know I shall."
"Perhaps she won't be stupid; and if she is, you needn't dislike her,"
said I, sententiously. "We ought not to dislike people because they are
stupid. You used to think you would give anything to get away from Aunt
Belinda."
"Aunt Belinda was very different then, and so was I," answered Elmina,
to which I agreed.
"But just think of living in a beautiful country-house all your own,"
said I, "with a carriage and horses and a beautiful library and
green-house, and everything such as one reads about in 'Evelina' and
'Cecilia.'"
"I never read 'Evelina' and 'Cecilia,' but I don't care a pin about all
these fine things," answered Elmina; and I really don't think she did.
"I mean to make an American flag and keep it hung up in my room over my
picture of Washington all the time. And I 'won't' ever be an English
girl!" said Elmina, vehemently. "I will be a Yankee girl just as long
as I live; and the very minute I get to be twenty-one, I mean to take
all my property and get on a ship and come home."
I applauded these sentiments, and we spent a long time telling each
other what we meant to do when we were grown-up. I told Elmina for the
first time of my favourite castle in the air—the boarding-school for
young ladies which I meant to establish, and which I was never tired of
thinking about.
Elmina did not altogether sympathize with me in this pet scheme. She
could not imagine why anybody could want to keep a school, but she
promised to buy me some nice books and pictures and a pair of globes
like those we had once seen at one of the professor's houses in
Cambridge. Also she meant to find all the poor little girls who had no
mothers to take care of them, and send them to the to school. We used
to amuse ourselves for hours with these plans for the future. I don't
think they did us any harm. Certainly they were very unselfish, for the
most part, however unpractical they might have been, since they were
all intended for the benefit of our fellow-creatures. I have learned
since then that it is by no means so easy to do good to people as those
imagine who have never tried. I don't suppose, for example, that all
the good influences in Boonville would make Lucinda Bell take decent
care of her children, for all the dreadful warning she had in the death
of her two oldest girls by the explosion of kerosene. She has had help
enough and good counsel enough, if that is all, but I am afraid she
will be nothing better than a scold and a slattern to the end of her
days.
Our voyage went on very much like any other sea-voyage. We had very
good weather, for the most part. We slept as much as we possibly could,
and ate twice as much as usual, partly from idleness, partly because
the air made us hungry. I had brought along books enough to last out
the voyage, as I thought, only I read them every one through the first
week, and had done the same by every volume on board by the second. My
aunt and Mr. Wyndham played chess and discussed French; English, and
American politics; with theological arguments Mr. Wyndham would have
nothing to do. Elmina and I walked on the deck, and built our castles
in the air, anal made friends with the captain's cat and with a pet
goat who went where she liked, was a great favourite with all on board,
and learned of the mate how to tie all sorts of curious knots such as
sailors use about ship. Once or twice we had a heavy blow which made
all the rest sick and gave me plenty of work in waiting on them, for,
oddly enough, I never was sick at all.
"Little Miss Evans is sure to get on in life wherever she is," I heard
the captain say once to my aunt. "She never misses learning everything
that comes in her way. She knows the ropes pretty well already, and can
make as neat a splice as many an old sailor. I have had plenty of lady
passengers who never learned to know the difference between stem and
stern, and didn't want to."
And indeed it was true that I had always a great thirst for knowledge
of every sort, and I don't know that I ever acquired any which I have
not some time found useful, from the studies I pursued with my aunt
down to such little accomplishments as the making of paper flowers and
filigree frames.
One joyful afternoon land was seen, and the captain promised to land
us at Bristol, which was to be our port, in the course of forty-eight
hours, if the weather held good.
"But there's just the p'int, you see," continued Captain Coffin,
squinting up at the sky. "It looks a little like dirty weather; and if
it comes on to blow from the north-east, it is a chance. However, we
won't borrow trouble. Time enough when it comes."
[Illustration: The boats were lowered.]
Time enough for that, indeed. That night I was sleeping soundly, when
I was waked by a terrible noise, and presently I heard Aunt Belinda's
voice saying quite composedly as it seemed,—
"Olivia, get up and put on your clothes as quickly as possible. The
ship is in danger of sinking. Be cool and steady, my child. We are all
in God's hands."
I cannot describe the scene that followed. The night was intensely
dark, the wind blowing a gale, and the sea very rough. The boats were
already lowered, and preparations were being made for our safety. One
of the sailors was burning some kind of firework which made a ghastly
blue light, and I remember in the midst of all the turmoil noticing
the coolness with which this man lighted one at the other, just before
it went out, so as to save his materials. But I can give very little
account of the matter. All I know is that every one was got into the
boats, the captain being the last man to leave the ship; that in the
hurry and confusion our party was separated, my aunt and Elmina being
in one boat and Mr. Wyndham and I in the other; that the sea was
terribly rough, and it was very dark; that we were dreadfully tossed
about and separated from our friends in the other boat, and at last
thrown violently on shore. I felt a severe blow on my head, and then I
knew no more till I heard a kind voice say in a very odd accent,—
"She's a-coming to herself, dear tender lamb! Try and drink this, my
pretty."
I felt a cup at my lips, and drank eagerly some hot tea. It seemed to
revive me, and I opened my eyes. I was laying on a poor but decent bed,
in a queer low room with a brick floor, and two or three women were
busy round me, rubbing my hands and feet and putting warm bricks about
me.
"That's right, my lamb," said the elder woman. "Drink some more now,
do! Susan, you tell father to tell the gentleman that little miss is
come to herself. Can't you speak e'er a word, my precious young heart?"
"Where are my aunt and Elmina?" were my first words.
The women looked at each other, and were silent a moment; then the
elder one said gently,—
"Well, we don't rightly know, dear heart. Was they in the other boat?"
I nodded, for I could not speak.
"Well, you see, dear, the boat you was in was stove all to pieces on
the beach, and we haven't no news of the other one, but it's very
likely she's all right and will come in yet, or maybe some one will
pick 'em up. Don't you fret, now, my lamb, don't, but put your trust in
the Lord. Now, do, my dear!"
"Is the child better?" said a grave, kind voice at the door.
And the women stood aside to allow a tall, handsome gentleman whom I
guessed at once to be a minister to enter.
"Yes, sir, yes; she's come quite to herself, poor dear! Only wearying
for her aunt, as was in the other boat, she says. Is there any news of
the boat, please, sir?"
The minister shook his head.
"I fear not, nor ever will be till the sea gives up its dead," said he.
"It is indeed marvellous that this should have escaped as it did. My
dear child, I am very thankful that you have come to yourself."
"Was Mr. Wyndham killed?" I asked.
"No; he is hurt, but will, I hope, be quite well soon."
I could not yet realize that my aunt and Elmina were probably lost. I
answered all the gentleman's questions, I believe, very reasonably,
telling him who I was and how I had come abroad, and all that I
knew—which was very little—about our shipwreck; but my mind was all
the time in a curious state. I felt sure that it was all a dream, and
that I should wake up presently and find myself, not on the ship or in
Boston, but in my own little bed-room at Lee. I was quite composed.
I even considered that the minister was like those I had read of in
"Evelina" and "Cecilia," but still the impression remained that it was
all a dream.
"She is talking too much," said a gentle voice, presently; and a lady
who had come in later, and was standing beside the rector, laid her
hand on mine and kissed me. "She had better be quiet now, and try to
get some sleep. Do not have any fear, dear child; we will take good
care of you."
"I will be quiet and do as you tell me if only you will let me see Aunt
Belinda and Elmina as soon as they come; and please don't tell mother,
because she will be so frightened, and it always makes her head ache to
be scared," I added, for I was not quite right yet.
I saw the women wipe their eyes and the minister turn suddenly away,
and I wondered what they were crying about. I had not long to speculate
on the matter, for I directly fell sound asleep, and remained so for
many hours.
When I waked, Mr. Wyndham was sitting by me. He was very pale and had a
great cut on his white forehead, plastered up with sticking-plaster. My
head was somewhat clearer now, and I felt very much refreshed, though
weak and shaken. Mr. Wyndham would have evaded my questions at first;
but seeing that, as I said, my mind was quite clear, he told me at last
the whole story, and I learned that I was shipwrecked in a strange land
and among strangers, with no friend near me but Mr. Wyndham, himself
almost a stranger. So far as any one knew, we two and one sailor were
the sole survivors of the wreck. Nothing had been seen or heard of the
other boat, but it was not at all probable that she had lived through
the gale, which was still blowing fiercely off shore.