and had wandered some distance down the Esk, when certain inner warnings
admonished me that it was time to recruit my energies. As I am rather an
epicure, however, and enjoy my crust with more _gout_, the more
beautiful the scenery by which I am surrounded, I resisted the cravings
of appetite until I had reached a situation the beauty of which tempted
my stay, and then, laying my rod on the bank, I proceeded to examine the
contents of my knapsack. It was high noon; but the sun was partially
shrouded by light fleecy clouds, and threw a softened light on the green
bank on which I seated myself. Immediately at my feet ran the clear
stream, fringed a little higher up with willows and trees of a larger
growth; opposite to me were the rich woods and lawns of Netherby; to the
left, on the other side of the river, was a picturesque, ivy-covered,
turreted building, called the fishing tower; to the right, far down the
river, were seen the bridge and buildings of Longtown; and in the
distance, the beautiful hills of Cumberland. The high-road was only a
few yards distant, immediately behind me; but I was shut out from its
view by a substantial stone wall, with a neat gate opening to the
water-side. Scarcely had I seated myself, when I heard the sound of
coming footsteps on the high-road. The sound ceased; and, turning round,
I saw a traveller looking over the green gate behind me. I am a great
disciple of Lavater, and flatter myself, notwithstanding the many
mistakes I have been led into, that I can sometimes read a man's
countenance, almost as well as a "written book." To me, a good
countenance is always a letter of recommendation, and one to which, in
spite of the whisperings of prudence, I always pay instant attention.
There was something particularly prepossessing in the countenance and
appearance of the stranger. He was a young man of about six-and-twenty,
with a laughing dark eye, hair black as the raven's wing, and a
complexion bronzed by exposure to sun and clime. He was dressed like a
sailor, in a neat blue jacket, a narrow-rimmed glazed hat, and with a
small bundle on the stick over his shoulder. Seeing me look round, and
encouraged, I suppose, by the friendly interest with which I regarded
him, he remarked upon the fineness of the day, and asked if I had had
good sport.
"Yes," replied I, "tolerable; and now I have a tolerable appetite. Will
you come and join my mess?"
"Thank ye kindly, sir--wi' a' my heart. I've travelled far to-day, and
I'll be a' the better of an _elevener_."[4]
[Footnote 4: A nautical term for a forenoon whet.]
After a hearty and simple meal, washed down with a dram of Connal's
best,[5] and a draught of pure river water, I lighted my cigar, and,
giving my new messmate one, to keep me in countenance, I lounged in
luxurious ease upon my grassy couch, while he seated himself with modest
frankness beside me.
[Footnote 5: Langholm Distillery.]
"Your face tells of other climates, my friend," says I; "it was not an
English sun that bronzed it thus."
"It's five years noo, sir, sin' I left the banks o' the bonny Esk; and
weel ye ken that a wanderer by land and sea sees mair in a year than a
man that aye sits at the ingle-cheek will in his lifetime. Gude be
thankit, I haena felt muckle care or sorrow mysel! but I hae had my ain
share o' hardships."
"You seem not to have forgot your mother-tongue, however. You are a
native of this part of the country, I suppose?"
"I am, sir; and though I've been lang aneugh amang the Englishers to hae
been half English mysel, I couldna mak up my mouth to speak their
daft-like lingo; and noo the sicht o' my ain dear river, the thocht that
I'm but a few miles frae my ain hame, has dung what little I did ken o't
clean oot o' my head."
"I wonder you are not in a greater hurry to get onwards," said I. "I
think, if I were in your situation, I should be eager to reach my home
as soon as possible."
"Oh, sir, I maun gang and see puir Geordie Gordon's folk before I gang
hame. It's ill news I hae to tell them, and I maun wait till the
gloamin."
"And who is Geordie Gordon?"
"He was the kindest-hearted o' messmates, and the best o' freends. A
better seaman, or a kinder, never stepped atween stem and stern o' a
ship. Puir Geordie!" And he hastily passed the sleeve of his jacket over
his eyes.
"Suppose you let me hear some of your adventures," said I; "it will pass
away the time, and I should like much to know something of the ways of
you sailors, and the customs on board a ship."
"Oh, sir, I hae nae adventures to tell. Could you but hae heard puir
Geordie--he was the lad for spinning yarns, as we ca' it."
"Well, but you can tell me what took you first to sea, and what you
thought of the life of a sailor after you had joined a ship."
"Weel, sir! I'll just begin at the beginning, and tell ye a' aboot it;
and if ye're wearied wi' my clavers, ye maun just tell me:--"
There was a large family o' us, and a happy family we were--for my
faither was an industrious farmer, weel to do in the world, and weel
respeckit by a' wha kenned him; and my mither was a kind-hearted, worthy
woman, wha dearly lo'ed us a', but never let her luve blind her to our
fauts. She aye taught us that idleness was the root o' a' mischief, and
that we needna fear man as lang's we did our duty to our Maker.
I was about seventeen when Geordie Gordon cam hame frae the sea, to see
his folk, wha lived in our parishen. A heartsome and a weel-faured lad
was Geordie, wi' a merry ee, and a laugh--I maist think I hear't
noo--that cam ringing frae the heart. He was a favourite wi' auld and
young; and mony was the bright ee that blinked o'er on him as he sat in
the kirk wi' his roun blue jacket, and his checkit sark, and his smiling
happy face. Jenny Birrel was his sweetheart; a blithe lass and a bonny
was Jenny, and guid as she was bonny. Wae'll be her heart when she hears
what has happened her Joe!
Weel, sir, I was like the lave--I likit Geordie, and Geordie likit me,
and we were aye thegither. It garred my vera heart loup to hear him spin
yarns, as he ca'd it, about the dangers he had escapit, and the unco
sichts he had seen; till, frae less to mair, I felt an eager wish to
gang wi' him on his neist voyage, and to witness the wonders o' the
deep, and to veesit forran lands. Besides, I saw that a' the lassies
thocht mair o'ane who had been leading a life o' danger and hardship,
than o' the douce lads wha keepit following the pleuch, or thumping wi'
the flail a' the days o' their lives. And I thocht that my ain wee Joe
wad lo'e me better, and that I micht earn something to mak us
comfortable; and that, after I had seen a' the ferlies o' forran lans, I
wad come hame laden wi' braws to mak her my wife. Bonny wee thing! I
wonder if she minds me yet! In storm, in darkness, in danger, I never
forgot _her_.
Sair did my mither greet when I tell't her I was for awa wi' Geordie;
and aft, aft did she beg me to change my min'.
"Stay at hame, Tam, my bairn," said she, "and tak care o' yer auld
mither. A' the lave are gane but yersel, and if ye gang too, what'll
become o' us!" But I wadna be persuaded; the spirit o' change was upon
me, and gang I wad.
"I winna hinder ye, my bairn," said my faither; "if yer min' is made up
to gang for a sailor, gang, and His blessing gang wi' ye. Ye'll be as
safe in the midst o' the raging sea as ye wad be by yer ain fireside, as
lang's ye trust in Him."
But the warst was to come. I maist repented o' my determination when I
gaed for the last time to the trysting tree, whar I had sae aft met my
dear lassie. She was there, wi' her face buried in her hans, sabbing as
if her young heart would break. Oh, sir, it was a sad sicht to me!
It was a bonny nicht: the moon was at the full, and the stars were a'
glinting roun' her; there wasna a cloud, but on our ain hearts; the hail
holm was ae bleeze o' licht, amaist as licht as day; the leaves were
just soughing o'er our heads; and the soun' o' the burn wimpling near us
cam clear upon our ears. Our hearts were owre sair for muckle speaking;
she sabbit, and I tried to comfort her--but a' in vain. I wanted comfort
mysel; and at last I could stan' it nae langer--I just grat in company.
But this couldna last for lang. We vowed to be leal to ilk ither; and,
wi' ae last kiss, I forced mysel awa.
Neist morn, Geordie Gordon and I took foot in han' and awa to Leith, and
frae that worked our passage to Lunnon. Weel, sir, it's an awsome bit
that Lunnon! The streets just like hedgeraws, and the kirk steeples like
poplar-trees; and then the folk as thrang on the planestanes on a
week-day as if a' the kirks were scaling at ance! Ye'll hae been in
Lunnon, I'se warran, sir? Min', I'm just telling ye hoo I thocht and
felt then, for I ken better sin' syne. Then the ships a' crooding on ane
anither, like sheep in a fauld, their masts as thick as the trees in yon
wud: and the muckle barges wi' but ae man to guide them; and the wee bit
cockleshells o' wherries skimming alang, loaded wi' passengers sitting
amaist upon the water; and the noise o' men, and the thunner o'
carriages, and the smoke o' ten thousand chimlas! 'Od, sir, I used to
think Car'il a grand toun, but it's naething ava to Lunnon.
Weel, sir, ae day, Geordie and me were walkin on a place they ca' Tower
Hill--whar there's a grand auld castle they ca' the Tower o' Lunnon,
where they say a sodger chiel, o' the name o' Julius Caesar, was beheadit
langsyne, in the time o' ane o' our auld Scottish kings--when a
weel-faured, sonsy-looking chiel, dressed like a provost, wi' a hat on
his head might serve a duke, cam up till us, and seeing us glowering
aboot, and just doing naething ava, began colloquying wi' us.
"It's a fine day, my lads," said he, looking as blithe as the sun in a
May morning. "You seem to be strangers in London. I like your honest
looks; and, as I am an idler myself, I will go with you, if you like,
and show you the lions."
"The lions! 'od, sir, are there ony lions hereawa?" said I.
"Many that you know nothing of," said he, stuffing his pocket-napkin
into his mouth, to keep the dust oot, I thocht. "Come with me, and we'll
drink to our better acquaintance."
Wi' that he taks us into a bit public near by, and tells us to ca' for
what we likit; and then he crackit awa, and was unco jocose and blithe.
"Have you got plenty of money, lads?" said he at last. And we lookit
like twa fules, for Geordie had but twa shillins left, and I had nae
mair mysel. He saw, for he had a gleg ee in his head, that we werna weel
provided; so cried he, "Never mind, my boys--I'll stand treat; the
landlord o' this house is my friend; you can have whatever you call for,
and stay with him as long as you like."
Wi' that he ca'ed for mair drink; and, frae ae thing to anither, what
wi' laughing and drinking, we got gey and fou, and were weel pleased to
win till oor beds.
"Troth, Geordie, lad," says I, "I think we've lichted on oor feet this
time; it's no every day in the week we'll meet sic a freend."
"I dinna ken what to mak o' him," said Geordie, wha kenned mair aboot
the warld than mysel, as he had been three years sailing atween Dumfries
and America; "he's owre ceevil by half. I've aye heard tell that there's
a set o' born deevils in Lunnon. It's a' vera weel as far as it's gane;
but I'm feared for the aftercome."
Weel, the neist morning, oor kind freend ordered breakfast for us, and
then asked us if we'd like to tak a walk and look aboot us. "But," said
he, "you must have better _toggery_ than that you have on." And wi' that
he took us into a shop, where he ordered a jacket and trousers for each
o' us; and, when we had putten them on, we cam oot, looking as braw as
the best. In the coorse o' oor cracks, we had tell't him we wanted to go
to forran parts.
"Well," said he, "there's a fine East Indiaman at Gravesend, just going
to sail for China. I can get you a berth on board of her."
Now, though Geordie and I were baith keen to gang to sea, yet we wanted
to choose oor ain ship; and, besides, we had resolved no to gang in ane
o' the East India Company's ships; for the lads on board the smack,
coming frae Leith, had tell't us to keep clear o' the Indiamen, for that
they were manned wi' the sweepings o' Newgate, and that there was mair
flogging on board o' them than in the navy.
"We're no for sailing in a Company's ship, sir," said I; "we'll choose
for oursels."
"Very well, lads," said he; "but before we part, we must '_square
yards_,' if you please. Pay me what you owe me." And, wi' that, he pulls
oot a bill as lang's my airm, for sae muckle meat, sae lang lodging, and
sae muckle for claithes.
"'Od, sir," said I, "did ye no treat us? Ye ken vera weel we haena a
bodle to pay ye wi'."
"Then you must either tramp to prison, or go on board the Indiaman. What
say you?"
"Weel, if we maun gang, we maun, and there's an end o't; but ye ha'ena
behaved to us like a gentleman and a Christian."
"A gentleman and a Christian!" said he, girning; "why, you Scotch
noodle, I'm a crimp!"
("And what, in the name of wonder, is a crimp?" said I, interrupting Tom
in his long-winded story.
"A crimp, sir!" said Tom; "d'ye no ken what's a crimp? Why, sir, a crimp
is, ye ken--a crimp _is_--hoot, he's just a crimp."[6]
"Very satisfactory, certainly," replied I. "However, go on with your
story.")
[Footnote 6: A crimp is a person who receives a certain sum of money
from shipowners for procuring sailors to man their vessels.]
Neist morning, Geordie and I, wi' mony ithers, were put into a Gravesend
boat, and sent down tae a bit ca'ed Northfleet, whar the Indiaman was
lying at the buoys. She was the first large ship I'd ever seen--and eh!
but I was astonished. I hae seen mony a ane since, and far bigger anes;
but she aye seems to my min' the biggest o' them a'. She was ca'd the
True Briton; and grand she did look, wi' her tall masts, and her colours
a' fleeing abroad, and the muckle guns peeping out o' the holes in her
sides they ca' ports. When we speeled up her sides, it was maist like
munting a hill; and when we got on board, I was fairly 'mazed, and stood
glowring frae the gangway as if I were bewitched, till a chiel, wi' a
face like a foumart, and a siller pipe hanging round his neck wi' a
black riband (he was a boatswain's mate), ca'd out to me--
"What are you staring at, you great fool? Come down from the gangway!"
And wi' that he gied me a pu' by the jacket, that maist garred me fa' on
the deck. My bluid was up in a moment; and I was just gaun to gie him as
guid's he brocht, when Geordie, wha was at my elbow, said--
"Haud yer hand, Tam! Never heed him. Do as ye see me do."
Wi' that he touched his hat to an officer who was walking the deck and
tell't him that we wished to ship as seamen.
"Can you hand, reef, steer, and heave the lead, my man?" said he.
"Yes, sir," said George; "but this callant has never been to sea afore."
"Oh, then, he won't do for us; besides, he is too light a hand. How long
have _you_ been at sea?"
"Six years, sir--three in a collier, and three in a Dumfries trader to
America. But, if Tom here is not shipped, I'll no go either."
"Well, you are a smart, stout-looking fellow yourself; and, as we want a
boy or two, we'll take Tom, too, as you call him. Midshipman, take these
men to the doctor."
"Ay, ay, sir!" said a smart wee boy, wi' a gilt loop and cockade in his
hat--"follow me, my lads!"
"What in a' the yirth is the doctor gaun to do till us? He's no gaun to
put a mark upon us, is he, Geordie?" whispered I.
"Whisht, ye great gowk!" was a' the answer I got; and I followed, as I
thocht, like a lamb to the slaughter, doun a ladder, till anither flat
deck, where a' the officers' cabins were.
'Od, sir, I never was sae astonished in a' my days! It was just like a
street in a toun; the cabins, on each side, like raws o' houses; and,
farder on, as far as ane could see, a raw o' muckle guns a' standing
abreast. It was unco low o'erhead, and I maist brak my head twice or
thrice or I won to the doctor's cabin. 'Od, I've aften laughed sin'
syne, to think how queer everything lookit to me then!
Weel, sir, the doctor felt our pulses, and lookit in our mouths, and
punchit us in the ribs, and examined us just as a horse-dealer wad a
beast, to see gin we war sound, wind and limb. And when he was
satisfied--
"Mr Noodle," said he to the midshipman, "tell Mr Douglas these men will
do."
And awa we gaed up the ladder again.
The ship was only waiting for men to mak up her complement; and, as we
were the last, we signed the contract for the voyage, and received twa
months' pay as arles. Our kind freend, the crimp, was waiting at the
pay-table wi' his bill, and sune eased us o' maist o' our money. The
morning after, two steamboats cam alangside, and were lashed to the
ship; we cut from the buoy, and in a few minutes the ship was whirring
doun the water wi' twa lang cluds o' smoke fleeing awa ahint, and the
red ensign just glinting now and then through them in the sunshine. We
cam to anchor at a place they ca' the Lower Hope; and in the afternoon
the boatswain and his three mates went about chirping wi' their siller
pipes, and ca'in, "All hands to muster, ahoy!" and the men a' cam
skelping up frae below, and went on the quarterdeck, where the officers
were a' standing on the ane side, and the men ranged themsels on the
ither.
"All up, sir," said the third mate, touching his hat to the chief.
"Very well--go on, steward." And the ship's steward ca'd out the names
o' a' the men, and they went round the capstan, touching their hats as
they answered. The chief mate afterwards tell't them a' their stations,
for reefing, furling, and tacking, and divided them into starboard and
larboard watches. Geordie Gordon being an able seaman, and a smart,
active chiel, was made a forecastle-man, and I was stationed in the
mizzentop.
At daylight neist morning we were roused out o' our hammocks by the
boatswain and his mates calling out on the upper-deck, "All hands up
anchor, ahoy! Up all hammocks, ahoy!" And then they cam doun below, and
made noise aneugh to wauken the dead or my auld deaf grannie, crying,
"Tumble up! tumble up!--show a leg!--lash and carry!" (Meaning the
hammocks.) Then the men jumpit out, and began hurrying on their claes,
and lashing up their hammocks. I had never been in a hammock afore that
nicht, and I had just been dreaming o' hame, when I was waukened by the
noise as if a' the deevils had broken loose, and I started up and jumpit
out o' my ain bed at hame, as I thocht, but I cam doun wi' sic a thud on
the deck as maist brak my head.
As soon as the hammocks were a' up, and put awa in the nettings on deck,
the capstan bars were shipped and manned, and the chief mate shouted
down the hatchway--
"Are you all ready there below?"
"All ready, sir!" replied the third mate.
"Heave taut for unbitting!"
As soon as the cable was unbitted, "Heave round!" was the cry from the
lower-deck.
"Heave round!" said the mate; "step out, my hearts!"
The fifes struck up "The girl I left behind me," the men stamped round
the capstan with a cheerful, steady step, and in a very short time the
cable was nearly up and doun.
"Up and down, sir!" shouted the boatswain from the forecastle.
"Heave and paul!" cried the chief mate. "Out bars, out bars! bear a
hand, my lads!--Up there, topmen--loose sails! Send everybody up from
below to make sail!"
"Ay, ay, sir!"
Eh! but I was dumfoundered to see the lads rinning up the rigging like
sae mony monkeys. And while I was standing glowering at them, a young
midshipman ca'd to me, "Holloa! you, Wilson!--don't you know you're a
mizzentopman?--Spin up and loose the topsail!"
"Me gang up, sir!--I canna, sir, I'd tumble."
"Can't, sir! there's no such word on board ship. Up you go; and if
you're afraid of falling, hold on with your teeth!"
"So I was obleeged to gang up; but I was a' in a tremble, and just was up
to the top in time to creep doun again; for the sails were a' loose, and
a' the lads coming doun. Eh! hoo the sailors did laugh at me! But, in a
fortnight's time, there wasna ane amang them could lay saut on my tail.
But what's the use o' my fashing yer honour wi' a' thae idle clavers?
Nae doot ye're tired o' them already."
"Oh no, Tom!" said I, "go on; I am much amused, I assure you; but you'd
better moisten your lips out of my flask before you go on."
"Thank ye, sir!"
Eh, but I thocht it a bonny sicht, when I lookit frae the rigging, where
I was hauding on wi' a' my fingers, like a fleyed kitlin, to see the men
a' lying oot on the different yards, loosening the rapes that keep the
sails rowed up--(they ca' them gaskets). Then the chief mate cried oot,
"Are you all ready there, forward!"
"All ready, sir."
"Are you ready in the maintop?"
"All ready, sir."
"Ready abaft?"
"All ready, sir."
"Let fall!"--And then the boatswain and his mates gied a loud skirl wi'
their pipes, and doun cam a' the sails flaffing at ane and the same
time; and in five minutes the masts that lookit afore as bare as trees
in winter, were a' cled in canvas frae tap to bottom. Weel, sir, the
sails were a' set, and just swelled out bonnily wi' the light breeze,
and the yards were trimmed, as they ca' it, for casting.
"Man the capstan bars!" shouted the chief mate. "Hold on there below!"
"All ready, sir!--heave round!" And away went the men again to the soun
o' the fife, till the boatswain gied a loud chirrup wi' his pipe, as
much as to say the anchor was up; and the paul o' the capstan clinkit,
and the bars were ta'en oot, and the men ran aboot a' gaets as they war
ordered, and the anchor was made fast, and in a short time the ship was
snooving through the water, bobbing and frisking like a fine leddy
dressed in a' her braws in a kintra dance.
'Od, sir, a muckle ship's a queer thing when ye come to think on't; it's
just, for a' the warl, like a toun afloat. If ye gang to the ane end, ye
hear the quacking o' ducks, and the cheep-cheeping o' turkeys, and the
crawing o' cocks;--gang to the ither, and there's the baaing o' sheep,
and the grumphing o' pigs, and the kye rowting as natural like as if
they war in a farm-steading at hame. Then there's Jemmy Ducks, a kind o'
henwife, only he's a man; and a butcher, and a baker, and cooks, and
carpenters, and joiners, and sail-makers, and blacksmiths (armourers
they ca' them), and a smiddy, and a' things like a place on shore. Then,
if ye want yer shoon clouted, or yer jacket mendit, or yer hair clippit,
ye're safe to fin' tailors, and cobblers, and shavers amang the crew.
We had a vera crooded ship; there war near five hundred sodgers, wi'
some o' their wives, on board; and an awfu time we had on't at first.
We had just got fairly oot into the Channel, whan it beguid to blaw
great guns, as they say, and the sail was a' taen in but the
maintopsail, and the ship tossed and tumbled in the water like a strong
man warstlin wi' his enemy. Whiles an awfu sea, as big's a hill-side,
wad come rampaging and raining doun upon her, as if it was gaun to
swallow her up a'thegither; and, wi' an awsome thud agen her bow, wad
send a shower o' thick spray owre her hail length; then she tumbled
owre, graining and maning like a leeving thing, till her side went deep
into the water, as if she war never gaun to rise mair; then up she wad
come again, whirring, and roll owre the tither way, dauring the sea, as
'twere, to anither tussle, while the lang masts were whisking aboot as
if they wad sweep the heavens abune oor heads.
The sodgers, puir bodies, were doun on the lowest deck--they ca't the
hollup (orlop)--wi' nae licht nor air but what cam doun the hatchways,
so that we were obliged to keep the hatch off, and every time a sea
struck the ship, a great body o' water ran doun below, till the hollup
was rinning maist foot deep; and there were the puir mithers sitting
hauding on by the stanchions in the midst o' the deck, and trying to
catch the helpless bit weans as they were carried frae side to side by
the rolling o' the ship and the rushing o' the water. Eh, it was a sad
sicht to see the bits o' things! Mony a puir wean died afterwards.
I could tell ye a feck o' queer things about the voyage; but I hae nae
time enow. But I'll just tell ye twa bit stories, ane about a sodger,
and the ither about puir Geordie Gordon; they baith affected me much at
the time.
Amang the sodgers there was a serjeant--a colour-serjeant, they ca'd
him--wha was weel likit by a' the crew. His name was George Hastie; he
was a weel-faured, douce, canny body, wi' twa mitherless weans.