CREW AND PASSENGERS
SEPTEMBER 28.--John Silas Huntly, the captain of the Chancellor, has
the reputation of being a most experienced navigator of the Atlantic.
He is a Scotchman by birth, a native of Dundee, and is about fifty
years of age. He is of the 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 observed a certain heaviness and dejection about his whole
carriage. His wavering glances, the listless motion 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
fists. 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 so 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 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 exchange 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 an appearance at
the common table. One thing, however, I do know; namely, that there are
two ladies occupying the stern cabin, 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 follows:
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.