The reader may justly say that I have dwelt too long on the incidents of
my early years. As my excuse for having done so, I can only urge, that
the first parts we play on the stage of life appear of more importance
to us than what they really are; and are consequently remembered more
distinctly and with greater interest than those of later occurrence.
I will try not to offend in the same way again; and, as some
compensation for having been too tedious, I shall pass over nearly three
years of my existence--without occupying much space in describing the
incidents that transpired during this period. Circumstances aid me in
doing so, for these three years were spent in a tranquil, happy manner.
They produced no change in my situation: for I remained in the same
employment--in the service of Captain Hyland.
The ship "Lenore," owned and commanded by him, was a regular trader
between Liverpool and New Orleans.
In our voyages, the captain took as much trouble in trying to teach me
navigation--and all other things connected with the profession of the
sea--as he could have done had I been his own son.
I appreciated his kindness; and had the gratification to know that my
efforts to deserve it met with his warmest approbation.
At every return to Liverpool, and during our sojourn there, his house
was my home. At each visit, my friendship for Mrs Hyland, and her
beautiful daughter Lenore, became stronger. It was mutual too; and I
came to be regarded almost as one of the family.
When in Liverpool, I had frequent opportunities of going to Dublin to
see my mother, and with shame I confess that I did not make use of them.
The attractions of my home in Liverpool proved too great for me to
leave it--even for a short interval.
I often thought of going to Dublin; and reflected with pride on the fact
that I was getting to be a man, and would be able to protect my
relatives from any ill-treatment they might have received at the hands
of Mr Leary. With all this, I did not go.
Aboard of the ship, I had one enemy, who, for some reason not fully
understood, seemed to hate me as heartily, as one man could hate
another. This was the first mate, who had been with Captain Hyland for
several years.
He had witnessed with much disfavour the interest the captain took in my
welfare, from the time of my first joining the ship; and jealousy of my
influence over the latter might have had much to do in causing the
mate's antipathy towards myself.
The steward, sailmaker, and one or two others, who were permanently
attached to the vessel, were all friends to the "Rolling Stone," the
name by which I was generally known; but the hostility of the first mate
could not be removed by any efforts I made towards that end.
After a time, I gradually lost the nickname of the "Rolling Stone," and
was called by my proper name, Rowland. I suppose the reason was, that
my actions having proved me willing and able to remain for some time in
one situation, it was thought that I deserved to be called a "Rolling
Stone" no longer.
I had been nearly three years with Captain Hyland, and we were in New
Orleans--where the ship, lying at the wharf, was left under my charge.
The captain himself had gone to stay at a hotel in the city; and I had
not seen him for several days.
The first mate was at this time neglecting his duty, and frequently
remained over twenty-four hours absent from the ship. On one occasion,
just as the latter came aboard to resume his duties, I received
intelligence, that the captain was very ill, and wished to see me
ashore.
Notwithstanding this message from the captain himself--the mate, whose
name was Edward Adkins--refused to allow me to leave the ship.
The season was summer; and I knew that many people were dying in the
city--which was scourged at the time with yellow fever.
The captain had undoubtedly been taken ill of that disease; and,
disregarding the commands of the mate, I went ashore with all haste to
see him.
I found him, as I had anticipated, suffering from yellow fever. He had
just sufficient consciousness to recognise, and bid me an eternal
farewell, with a slight pressure of his hand.
He died a few minutes after; and a sensation came over me similar to
that I had experienced a few years before--when bending over the cold
inanimate form of my father.
Mr Adkins became the captain of the "Lenore," and at once gave me a
discharge. My box was sent ashore; and I was not afterwards allowed to
set foot on board of the ship!
I appealed to the English Consul; but could obtain no satisfaction from
him. I could not blame the official: for the mate was entitled to the
command, and consequently had the right of choosing his crew.
My wages were paid me--besides some trifling compensation, for being
discharged in a foreign port.
Again the new world was before me; and the question once more came up:
"What am I to do?"
I wished to return to Liverpool to see Mrs Hyland and Lenore. They
were to me as a mother and sister. Who should carry to them the sad
news of their great misfortune? Who but myself?
The beautiful Lenore, I must see her again. I had been fancying myself
in love with her for some time; but, now that her father was dead I
reflected more sensibly on the subject, and arrived at the conclusion
that I was a fool. I was but seventeen, and she only thirteen years of
age! Why should I return to Liverpool? I had a fortune to make; and
why should I return to Liverpool?
I thought of my mother, brother, and sister. They were under the
ill-treatment of a man I had every reason to hate. They might need my
protection. It was my duty to return to them. Should I go?
This question troubled me for some time; but in the end it was settled.
I did not go.
Many will say that I neglected a sacred duty; but perhaps they have
never been placed in circumstances similar to mine. They have never
been in a foreign country, at the age of seventeen, in a city like New
Orleans.
There was at this time a great commotion in the place. The fife and
drum were continually heard in the streets; and flags were flying from
houses in different parts of the city--indicating the localities of
"recruiting stations."
The United States had declared war against Mexico; and volunteers were
invited to join the army.
Among other idlers, I enrolled myself.
It was probably a very unwise act; but many thousands have done the same
thing; and I claim an equal right with others to act foolishly, if so
inclined. We are all guilty of wise and foolish actions, or more
properly speaking, of good and bad ones; and often, when desirous of
doing the one, it ends by our committing the other.
After being "mustered into the service," we were sent into the country
to a rendezvous, where the corps to which I belonged, which was to form
part of a cavalry regiment, received its allotted number of horses.
To have pointed out a particular horse to a particular man, and have
said "that is yours," would have given occasion for many to declare that
partiality had been shown. For this reason, an arrangement was made by
which each man was allowed to choose his own horse.
The animals were ranged in a line, by being tied to a rail fence; and
then we were all mustered in rank, about two hundred and fifty yards to
the rear. It was then made known, that on a signal being given, each
one of us might take the horse that suited him best.
The word of command was at length given; and a more interesting foot
race was perhaps never witnessed, than came off on that occasion.
I was good at running; but unfortunately but a poor judge of horse
flesh.
Only three or four of the company reached the fence before me; and I had
nearly all the horses from which to make my choice.
I selected one, with a short neck and long flowing tail. He was of
coal-black colour; and, in my opinion, the best looking horse of the
lot. It was an intellectual animal--a horse of character--if ever a
horse had any mental peculiarities entitling him to such distinction.
It was the first steed I ever had the chance of bestriding; and the
movement by which I established myself on his back must have been either
very cleverly, or very awkwardly executed: since it greatly excited the
mirth of my companions.
The horse had a knack of dispensing with any disagreeable encumbrance;
and having been so long a "Rolling Stone," I had not yet acquired the
skill of staying where I was not wanted.
When I placed the steed between my legs, he immediately gave me a hint
to leave. I know not whether the hint was a strong one or not; but I do
know that it produced the result the horse desired: since he and I
instantly parted company.
I was informed that the animal came from Kentucky; and I have not the
least doubt about this having been the case, for after dealing me a
sommersault, it started off in the direction of the "dark and bloody
ground," and was only stopped on its journey by a six foot fence.
Those who were dissatisfied with the result of their choice, had
permission to exchange horses with any other with whom they could make
an arrangement.
In the corps to which I belonged was a young man from the State of Ohio,
named Dayton. When the scamper towards the horses took place, instead
of running with the rest, Dayton walked leisurely along; and arrived
where the horses were tied, after every other individual in the company
had appropriated a steed. The only horse left for Dayton had also a
character--one that can only be described by calling him a sedate and
serious animal.
This horse had a sublime contempt for either whip or spurs; and
generally exercised his own judgment, as to the pace at which he should
move. That judgment equally forbade him to indulge in eccentric
actions.
Dayton proposed that we should exchange steeds--an offer that I gladly
accepted. When my absconding horse was brought back to the camp, I made
him over to Dayton, by whom he was at once mounted.
The animal tried the same movements with Dayton that had proved so
successful with me; but they failed. He was a good rider, and stuck to
his horse, as one of the men declared, "like death to a dead nigger."
The creature was conquered, and afterwards turned out one of the best
horses in the troop.
Volume One, Chapter VIII.