Never have I witnessed a change so great and sudden as came over Mr
Leary, after his marriage with my mother.
He was no longer the humble journeyman--with the deportment of a
respectable young fellow striving to retain a situation, and gain
friends by good conduct. The very day after the wedding, his behaviour
was that of a vain selfish overbearing plebeian, suddenly raised from
poverty to wealth. He no longer spoke to me in his former feigned tone
of kindness, but with threats, in a commanding voice, and in accents far
more authoritative, than my father had ever used to me.
Mr Leary had been hitherto industrious, but was so no longer. He
commenced, by employing another man to work in the shop with me, and
plainly expressed by his actions that his share in the business was to
be the spending of the money we might earn.
Up to that time, he had passed among his acquaintances as a temperate
man; but in less than three weeks after his marriage, he came home drunk
on as many occasions; and each time spoke to my mother in an insulting
and cruel manner.
I took no trouble to conceal from Mr Leary my opinion of him and his
conduct; and it soon became evident to all, that he and I could not
remain long as members of the same family.
Our difficulties and misunderstandings increased, until Mr Leary
declared that I was an ungrateful wretch--unworthy of his care; that he
could do nothing with me; and that I should remain no longer in his
house!
He held a long consultation with my mother, about what was to be done
with me--the result of which was, that I was to be sent to sea. I know
not what arguments he used; but they were effectual with my mother, for
she gave consent to his plans, and I was shortly after bound apprentice
to Captain John Brannon, of the ship "Hope," trading between Dublin and
New Orleans.
"The sea is the place for you, my lad," said Mr Leary, after the
indenture had been signed, binding me to Captain Brannon. "Aboard of a
ship, you will learn to conduct yourself in a proper manner, and treat
your superiors with respect. You are going to a school, where you will
be taught something--whether you are willing to learn it, or not."
Mr Leary thought, by sending me to sea, he was obtaining some revenge
for my ill-will towards him; but he was mistaken. Had he known what
pleasure the arrangement gave me, he would, perhaps, have tried to
retain me a little longer working in the shop. As I had already
resolved to leave home, I was only too glad at being thus sent away--
instead of having the responsibility of an indiscretion resting on
myself. I had but one cause for regret, and that was leaving my mother,
brother, and sister, to the tender mercies of a man like Mr Leary.
But what was I to do? I was not yet fourteen years of age, and could
not have protected them from him by staying at home. The hatred between
us was mutual; and, perhaps, when his spite was no longer provoked by my
presence, he might treat the rest of the family better. This was the
only thought that consoled me on parting with my relatives.
I could do nothing but yield to circumstances, leave them to their
destiny, whatever that was to be, and go forth upon the world in search
of my own.
My brother bore our father's name, William Stone. He was a fair-haired,
blue-eyed boy, with a mild, gentle disposition, and was liked by
everyone who knew him. He never did an action contrary to the expressed
wishes of those who had any authority over him; and, unlike myself, he
was always to be found when wanted. He never tried to shirk his work,
or absent himself from school.
My little sister, Martha, was a beautiful child, with curly flaxen hair,
and I never gazed on anything more beautiful than her large deep blue
eyes, which seemed to express all the mental attributes of an angel.
It pained me much to leave little Martha--more than parting either with
my mother or brother.
My mother wished to furnish me with a good outfit, but was prevented
from doing so by Mr Leary--who said that he could not afford the
expense. He declared, moreover, that I did not deserve it.
After my box was sent aboard the ship, and I was ready to follow it,
little Willie and Martha were loud in their grief, and I had to tear
myself away from their presence.
When it came to parting with my mother, she threw her arms around me,
and exclaimed, "My poor boy, you _shall_ not leave me!"
Mr Leary gave her a glance out of his sinister eyes, which had the
effect of suddenly subduing this expression of grief, and "we parted in
silence and tears."
Often, and for hours, have I thought of that parting scene, and wondered
why and how Mr Leary had obtained so great an influence over the mind
of my poor mother.
I once believed that she had a will of her own, with the courage to show
it--an opinion that had been formed from observations made during the
life of my father, but since her marriage with Mr Leary, she seemed
afraid of giving utterance to a word, that might express independence,
and allowed him, not only to speak but think for her.
I knew that she had much affection for all of us, her children--and her
regret at thus sending me, at so early an age to encounter the hardships
of a long voyage must have been deep and sincere.
I know that her heart was nearly breaking at that moment. The
expression of her features, and the manner in which she wrung my hand,
told me so; and yet the passion of my grief was not equal in power to
that of her fear for the frowns of Mr Leary.
My amiable step-father accompanied me to the ship, which was lying in
Dublin Bay; and on our way thither, he became much excited with drink.
He was so elated with whiskey, and with the idea that I was going away,
that he did not speak to me in his usual unpleasant tone. On the
contrary, he seemed all kindness, until we had got aboard the ship.
"Now my little `Rolling Stone,'" said he, when about to take leave of
me, "you are going to have plenty of rolling now, and may you roll so
far away, as never to roll across my path again."
He appeared to think this was very witty, for he was much amused at what
he had said, and laughed long and loudly.
I made no reply, until he was in the boat, which was about to shove off
from the ship, when, looking over the bulwarks, I called after him.
"Mr Leary! if you ill-use my mother, brother, or sister, in my absence,
_I will certainly kill you when I come back_."
Mr Leary made no reply, further than to answer me with a smile, that a
hyena might have envied.
Volume One, Chapter III.