SEPTEMBER 28th.--John Silas Huntly, the captain of the “Chancellor,” has
the reputation of being an experienced navigator of the Atlantic. He is
a Scotchman, a native of Dundee, and is about fifty years of age. He is
of middle height and slight build, and has a small head, which he has a
habit of holding a little over his left shoulder. I do not pretend to be
much of a physiognomist, but I am inclined to believe that my few hours’
acquaintance with our captain has given me considerable insight into
his character. That he is a good seaman and thoroughly understands his
duties I could not for a moment venture to deny; but that he is a man
of resolute temperament, or that he possesses the amount of courage
that would render him, physically or morally, capable of coping with
any great emergency, I confess I cannot believe. I observe a certain
heaviness and dejection about his whole carriage. His wavering glances,
the listless motions of his hands, and his slow, unsteady gait, all seem
to me to indicate a weak and sluggish disposition. He does not appear
as though he could be energetic enough ever to be stubborn; he never
frowns, sets his teeth, or clenches his fist. There is something
enigmatical about him; however, I shall study him closely and do what
I can to understand the man who, as commander of a vessel, should be to
those around him “second only to God.”
Unless I am greatly mistaken there is another man on board who,
if circumstances should require it, would take the more prominent
position--I mean the mate. I have hitherto, however, had such little
opportunity of observing his character, that I must defer saying more
about him at present.
Besides the captain and this mate, whose name is Robert Curtis, our crew
consists of Walter, the lieutenant, the boatswain, and fourteen sailors,
all English or Scotch, making eighteen altogether, a number quite
sufficient for working a vessel of 900 tons burden. Up to this time my
sole experience of their capabilities is, that under the command of the
mate, they brought us skillfully enough through the narrow channels of
Charleston; and I have no reason to doubt but that they are well up to
their work.
My list of the ship’s officials is incomplete unless I mention Hobart,
the steward, and Jynxstrop, the negro cook.
In addition to these, the “Chancellor” carries eight passengers,
including myself. Hitherto, the bustle of embarkation, the arrangement
of cabins, and all the variety of preparations inseparable from starting
on a voyage for at least twenty or five-and-twenty days have precluded
the formation of any acquaintanceships; but the monotony of the voyage,
the close proximity into which we must be thrown, and the natural
curiosity to know something of each other’s affairs, will doubtless lead
us in due time to an interchange of ideas. Two days have elapsed and
I have not even seen all the passengers. Probably sea-sickness has
prevented some of them from making their appearance at the common
table. One thing, however, I do know; namely, that there are two ladies
occupying the stern-cabins, the windows of which are in the aft-board of
the vessel.
I have seen the ship’s list and subjoin a list of the passengers. They
are as follow:--Mr. and Mrs. Kear, Americans, of Buffalo. Miss Herbey,
a young English lady, companion to Mrs. Kear. M. Letourneur and his son
Andre, Frenchmen, of Havre. William Falsten, a Manchester engineer. John
Ruby, a Cardiff merchant; and myself, J. R. Kazallon, of London.