YOUTH
Life was very irksome to me at this period, being led to chapel
morning and evening on Sundays, and led back; having the mortification
of seeing other boys of the same age enjoying their liberty. The only
way to alter these conditions was to apply for work. This was soon
done, hiring myself out to an ironmonger, at a weekly wage of five
shillings. The old people now began to take a pride in me, advising me
to study my master's interests, and without doubt succeed to his
business at his decease. My brother, two years my senior, who, as I
have said before, was odd in his behaviour, took example by me, and
succeeded in being employed at a large clothing establishment. It was
there and then that he began and finished his life's work in half a
day. Having been sent to the dock with a large parcel valued at two
pounds ten shillings, he found on arrival that the _Betsy Jane_ was
moored in the middle of the dock. My brother, seeing this, and not
being blessed with inventive faculties, placed the parcel on the quay
and returned to his master. Naturally the shopkeeper thought it was
safely delivered, until the captain of the _Betsy Jane_, coming
straight from his ship, entered the shop to make enquiries about his
goods. My brother, having a clear conscience, explained matters in his
simple way to the open eyed astonishment of his hearers. The result
was a summary dismissal, and a letter to my grandfather requesting him
to make good the loss of the parcel; which was duly done, my
grandfather being extremely afraid of the law. The old people would
never admit that my brother was different from other boys, although it
was apparent not only to grown folk, but to the smallest child in the
street. Some days before the affair just mentioned my grandmother,
having to answer the door, ordered my brother to watch some fish,
which was being prepared for dinner. When she returned, the cat was
enjoying a good meal under the sofa. To the old lady's cry of
"Francis, did I not tell you to watch the fish," my brother answered
truthfully: for he always told the truth and did what he was told--"So
I did, grandmother, and the cat took it." If she had explained to him
properly why she wanted the fish watched, at the same time making
special mention of a cat's partiality for fish, no doubt he would have
watched to better purpose.
Nothing could have happened better than this instance of the loss of
the ship's goods to undeceive my grandfather as to my brother's state
of mind. A sudden blaze of intelligence broke in on the old man's
mind, which was not of the most brilliant kind. "Lydia," said he to
his wife, "there's something wrong with the boy; to think he did not
have sense enough to shout, Ship ahoy." I ventured to say, to show my
cleverness, that there might have been several ships in the middle of
the dock, and they would have all answered to Ship ahoy. Would it not
have been better to cry, _Betsy Jane_, ahoy? The old man paused
thunderstruck. "Avast there," he cried, "drop anchor: will ye have
more pudding?"
In our street almost every woman had some one connected with the sea,
and it was my grandfather's pleasure by day to parade the street and
inform the women as to what winds and tides were favourable to their
husbands or sons. One woman had a husband that had sailed away in a
barque, which was never sighted or hailed after leaving port, and was
now three months overdue. My grandfather feared to meet this sailor's
wife, and would often peep around his door, trying to escape
consultation from her, knowing well his own forebodings as to the fate
of the barque and her crew.
I have mentioned Dave, who was a very studious lad, and who became my
one companion and the sharer of my dreams. He had received an old copy
of Byron, and we both became fascinated by the personality of that
poet. His influence on Dave was so great that it was publicly shown
to all the boys and girls in the chapel's schoolroom, where we had
gathered for childish games, under the supervision of the elders.
While we were playing kiss in the ring, singing and laughing, dancing
with merriment, when small white teeth, red lips and bright eyes were
all the rage--Dave would lean his figure (not so tall as he would like
it) against a pillar, biting his lips and frowning at our
merry-making. None but myself knew that his troubles and sorrows were
purely imaginary, but they certainly succeeded in causing some
sensation, even the notice of the elders being drawn to him. Some time
after this we had more trouble with Dave, when we went for a day's
trip to the sea-side. On this occasion he took his own path across the
sands, a solitary figure, with his head bowed, and when we called him
he would not heed us. That night, when it was time to return Dave
stood perilously near the edge of the pier, gazing with melancholy
eyes on the water. Several women hastened towards him, and drawing him
gently away, enquired as to his trouble. On which Dave stood erect,
was motionless, frowned, bit his lip, and stalked away into the
darkness, without uttering a word. He came back in time to catch the
boat. Dave soon got tired of these doings, but the influence of Byron
was more lasting on me. It was the first time for me to read verse
with enjoyment. I read Shelley, Marlowe, and Shakespeare, indifferent
to Wordsworth, but giving him since the attention of wiser days.
My grandmother had only read one novel in her life, called "The
Children of the Abbey," and had been severely punished by her mother
for doing so. She therefore continually warned me against reading such
works, but strongly recommended Milton's "Paradise Lost" and Young's
"Night Thoughts"; her favourite quotation being from the
latter--"Procrastination is the thief of time." It pleased her to
tears when a friend saw a likeness between John Bunyan and myself, and
she regretted that she saw no prospect of ever tracing a resemblance
between our hearts.
I was now bound apprentice to the picture frame trade, but owing to my
passion for reading, could not apply myself sufficiently to that
business so as to become a good workman. The fact of the matter was
that I was reading deep into the night and, having to be up early for
work, was encroaching on Nature's allowance of sleep. Owing to being
young and conceited and not being satisfied at having knowledge
concealed, I showed at this time some parts that made older and wiser
people of both sexes prophesy good results in manhood. Having no
knowledge of metre and very little of harmony, I composed and caused
to be printed a poem describing a storm at night, which a young friend
recited at a mutual improvement class, making after mention of the
author's name, when I was publicly congratulated. Some time after this
I--having surreptitiously visited the playhouse on more than one
occasion--boldly read out an article to the same class entitled--"In
defence of the Stage." This daring performance caused some commotion
among the full grown sheep, who thought they detected a wolf in lamb's
clothing; but the young lamb--my companions--bleated for pride and
joy. My grandmother was told of this, and as she did not take the
trouble to enquire the subject of my address, and it was not told unto
her, she was satisfied to know I had surprised several members of the
congregation and in particular a deacon, for whom she had great
respect.
It has always been a wonder to me where my conversational power has
gone: at the present time I cannot impress the most ordinary men. It
must be through associating so many years with companions uncongenial
to my taste, a preference for indulging in my own thoughts, and
forcing myself to comment on subjects uninteresting to me. I remember
at one time being in a lodging house where one man stood out as an
authority on books, disease, politics, military tactics, and more
especially the meaning and right pronunciation of words. Several times
different men have said to me, "That man is a scholar; he is not an
ignoramus, as the likes of you and me." It was a secret satisfaction
to know that this gentleman to whom they referred, often paid the
compliment of knowing more than himself by asking information, which,
on my part, was imparted with much secrecy, as I did not wish to
appear in any way superior to those with whom I was forced by
circumstances to associate. Yet, in those happy days of my
apprenticeship, I rarely visited a house but what a second invitation
was assured, although a painful shyness marred the beginning. We
enjoyed ourselves so much one evening at a friend's house, where the
lady had been all day indisposed, that her husband said, on leaving,
"My wife has been laughed out of her sickness, and you have certainly
saved me an item on the doctor's bill." Instead of this giving more
confidence and overcoming my shyness, when I received from them an
invitation for a second party I became so overpowered at the thought
of what would be expected of me, that for the life of me I could not
accept it, knowing I would have made an ass of myself. It is not
altogether shyness that now makes me unsuccessful in company.
Sometimes it is a state of mind that is three parts meditation that
will not free the thoughts until their attendant trains are prepared
to follow them. Again, having heard so much slang my thoughts often
clothe themselves in that stuff from their first nakedness. That being
the case, shame and confusion in good company make me take so long to
undress and clothe them better, in more seemly garments, that other
people grow tired of waiting and take upon themselves the honour of
entertainers. It was in the second year of my apprenticeship that I
met a young woman living in a small village adjoining this town of my
birth, who was very clever, a great reader of fine literature; and it
was to her hands, after I had enjoyed her conversation on several
occasions, that I submitted a small composition of my own. Her
encouragement at that early time has been the star on which these eyes
have seldom closed, by which I have successfully navigated the deeps
of misery, pushing aside Drink, my first officer, who many a day and
many a night endeavoured to founder me. She was the first to recognise
in my spirit something different from mere cleverness, something she
had seen and recognised in her books, but had never before met in a
living person. I had known her only six months when she died, but her
words of encouragement have been ringing in my ears ever since they
were uttered.
My grandfather had also died; a straightforward, honest, simple man,
with a mortal dread of being in debt, and always well prepared to pay
his rates and taxes. He had a horror of being a principal in the
police courts, but appeared there three times for no offence of his
own. Called upon once to examine a rope supposed to be stolen from a
ship he proved the rope was of the land, and different from a ship's
rope--discharge of the prisoner. On another occasion, Sunday morning,
and grandfather being in bed, a detective, disguised as a poor working
man that was almost dying for a drink, wheedled the old man's daughter
to sell him some liquor over the back wall--the result being a summons
for supplying drink during closed hours, followed by a heavy fine,
which was at once paid. The third time was at my trial with five other
desperadoes, as described in the preceding chapter. There was nothing
false about this man, and he had the heart of a lion. He claimed to
have beaten the champion of Portsmouth, but undoubtedly this was some
drunken fellow who had taken on himself this much coveted title.
Grandfather's pet yarn, which I have heard him recount a hundred
times, took place in a public house, where a thin partition divided
him from another person who was loudly extolling himself to the
admiration of others. Grandfather allowed this man to continue for
some time, but at last, losing patience, he looked around the
partition and cried in a stern voice, "Avast there, Captain Jones: I
knew thee when thou wert glad to eat barley bread without butter."
Captain Jones looked disconcerted at this remark and then, quickly
putting his own head around the partition, whispered: "Hush, hush,
Captain Davies; there's nothing like making one's self look big in a
strange place."
I was now in the last year of my apprenticeship, and was running a
bit wild, taking no interest in my trade, and determined in a few
months to throw off all restraint. When my time had expired, my master
wanted me to continue working for him, which I did for a short time;
and, for one who had not yet reached his twenty-first year, received a
very fair wage. In three or four months I found some excuse for
leaving. I was eager to start for the new world; but my grandmother
would not, on any account, supply money for that purpose; so I applied
for work at Bristol, was accepted, and worked there six months, being
then called home through the death of the good old lady. The licence
indulged in during these six months, being in a strange town and
unknown, was sufficient to wreck the brains and health of any man
beyond recovery, and for the time being deadened all literary
ambition. It could not have continued this way much longer, and no
doubt, it was her death that prevented the collapse of my life, by a
change of circumstances. Her estate was in the hands of a trustee, and
its profits were to be divided weekly among her three grandchildren.
She was a good old soul, and I have lived long enough to cherish every
hair of her head. She was a Baptist, stoutly opposed to other
creeds--called the stage the Devil's Playground--abhorred second
marriages--and thought as much of me in life as I think of her in
death. Many of the little kindnesses that were given to her in life
were done more out of a sense of duty than from the gratitude of
which she was so worthy. But the good old soul died without suspecting
any other than gratitude. Mine is the shame and sorrow that she did
not receive it, as I am even now, thirteen years after her death,
living on her bounty. When my grandmother died, I joined home with
mother and her second family, but after a month or two of
restlessness, I sought the trustee, got an advance from him of some
fifteen pounds, and full of hope and expectation embarked for
America.