I remember very little of my journey to Dublin, except that it was
performed on the top of the mail. My father went outside also, which
was not his usual custom; but he did not like to expose me to the
inclemency of the weather while he was comfortably ensconced within
(another proof of his love), and he could not spare money to pay for my
fare inside.
We saw my eldest brother for an instant, just for me to wish him
good-bye, and the same afternoon we went on board a steamer bound for
Liverpool.
She was very different to the superb vessels which now run twice a day
from one place to the other, making the two capitals, for all intents
and purposes, not so far off as London and Winchester were not a hundred
years ago. She was in every respect inferior; but I thought her, as she
was indeed, a very wonderful vessel. I was never tired of examining her
machinery, and in wandering through every part of her.
I had never before been on board a steamer; and as I was naturally of an
inquiring disposition, I had numberless questions to ask to learn how it
was the steam made the engines work, and the engine made the large
paddle-wheels go round. This occupation prevented me from thinking of
what had occurred, and kept me in good spirits.
Arrived at Liverpool, we went to an inn, and my father immediately set
out with me to inquire among the ship-brokers what ships were sailing
for British North America.
"You shall go to an English colony, Peter," said my father. "Wherever
you wander, my son, remember you are a Briton, and cease not to love
your native land."
Liverpool was then, I thought, a very fine city. I was particularly
struck by the fine public buildings; the broad streets, full of
richly-stocked shops; and more than all, by the docks, crowded with
shipping. Since then, several of the streets have been widened, the
docks have been increased, and many fine buildings have been added; and
as the wealth of Liverpool continues to increase, many more will be
added, till it vies with some of the proudest cities in the world. Such
is the result of commerce, when guided by a wise and liberal policy.
Had my father known more of the world, I am inclined to think that he
would have waited till he could procure an introduction to some
respectable ship-owner, who would have selected a good honest captain
with whom to place me. Instead of so doing, he walked into several
offices by chance, over which he saw written "Shipping Agent and
Broker." Some had no ships going to the British North American ports,
others did not know of any captains who would take charge of a raw
youngster like me. One said if I liked to go to the coast of Africa he
could accommodate me, but that he could not say that I might not have to
spend two or three months up some of the rivers, waiting for a return
cargo of ivory and gold dust. Another said he could secure me a trip to
China if I would pay a premium; and three others offered me cruises to
the West Indies and North America. The fact was, that the navigation of
the mighty river Saint Lawrence was scarcely open, and consequently few
ships were ready to sail for Quebec. At last a broker into whose office
we entered, informed us that he was agent for one of the first emigrant
ships which would sail that year; that her captain was a very superior
man, a great friend of his; and that he doubted not for a small premium
he would take charge of me. Mr John Cruden, our new friend, insurance
broker and general shipping agent, was a very polite man, and extremely
soft-spoken; but he was of an extremely inquisitive disposition, I
thought, for he asked my father numberless questions about himself and
me, to all of which he returned the short monosyllable "H'm," which did
not inform us whether he was satisfied or not. I found all the time
that he was merely trying to discover what amount of premium my father
was likely to be able to pay, that he might ask accordingly.
The office, in which we stood, was very small for the large amount of
business Mr Cruden informed us he transacted in it, and very dark; and
so dirty, that I thought it could never have been cleaned out since he
commenced his avocations there. There were sea-chests, and cases, and
small casks of all sorts piled up in all the odd corners. There were
also coils of rope, and bottles, and rusty iron implements, the form of
which I could not discern, and bundles of old clothes and canvas bags,
and compass-boxes in and about the cases, and hanging from the ceiling;
while a tarry, fishy, strong shippy odour pervaded the room. I was
particularly struck with the model of a ship fully rigged on a shelf
over the mantelpiece; but she also was as much covered with dust as the
ship in which the ancient mariner went to sea would have been, after he
had shot the albatross, could any dust have reached her. I observed all
these things while our new friend was talking to my father.
"You will doubtless like to make the acquaintance of Captain Elihu
Swales, Mr Lefroy," said Mr Cruden. "I expect him here every instant,
and I shall then have the pleasure of introducing him to you, and we can
arrange matters forthwith. You will find him, sir, a very amiable,
excellent man--indeed you will, sir--a very proper guardian for a young
man."
Whether this description was correct or not I had then no means of
judging. The subject of this eulogium appeared while it was being
uttered; indeed I suspect he heard a portion of it, for, suddenly
turning my head after growing weary of looking at the dusty ship, I saw
a man, whom I instinctively suspected to be the captain, standing
outside the little paddock in which we were enclosed, called by Mr
Cruden his counting-house, with a very peculiar smile on his
countenance. Had I not turned, I think he would have burst forth
outright into laughter. I must remark that my father's back was towards
him, and that Mr Cruden, unless he was very near-sighted, could
scarcely have helped seeing when he came in.
"Ah, there is at last my excellent friend," observed the agent when he
perceived that I had discovered the captain. "Mr Lefroy, allow me to
introduce Captain Swales to you. Captain Swales, this gentleman has a
son whom he wishes to send to sea. You will take charge of the lad.
You will be a second father to him. I can depend on you. Say the word,
and all parties will come to terms."
"Day, sir," said Captain Swales, making as if he would take off his hat,
which he did not. He was a very respectable man, as far as dress went;
that is to say, he was clothed in a suit of black cloth, with a black
silk handkerchief--nothing very remarkable, certainly: most masters and
mates of merchantmen wear such on shore. His figure was short and
square, there was nothing rounded about him; his features were all
angular; and though there was a good deal of him, it was all bone and
sinew. His countenance was brown, with a deep tinge of red superadded;
and as for his features, they were so battered and seamed with winds and
weather, that it was difficult to discern their expression. I remember,
however, that the first glance I caught of his eye, as it looked
inquiringly towards Mr Cruden, I did not like, even though at the time
he was smiling.
"You wish to send your son to sea, sir," he continued to my father. "As
Mr Cruden says, I'll look after him as if he was my own boy, sir. I'll
keep him from mischief, sir. Lads always gets into mischief if they
can; but with me, sir, they can't--I don't let 'em. I look after them,
sir; and when they knows my eye is on them, they behaves themselves.
That's my principle, sir; and now you know me."
He said this in an off-hand, bluff, hearty way, which made my father
fully believe that he had fallen in with a prize--indeed, that he was
supremely fortunate in having secured so kind a protector for me. It
was finally arranged that he was to pay Captain Elihu Swales the sum of
fifteen pounds; in consideration of which, in addition to any service I
could be of, I was to mess at his table, and to learn what I could of a
seaman's duty, till the ship returned to Liverpool.
The _Black Swan_, the name of Captain Elihu Swales' ship, would not be
ready for sea for some days, he informed my father; and till she was so,
as he was compelled to return home immediately, Mr Cruden kindly
undertook to board and lodge me at the rate of twelve shillings a week.
I was to go on board the _Black Swan_ every day, to see if I was wanted;
and I was to return to Mr Cruden's in the afternoon, or when I was not
wanted. My father considered this a very admirable arrangement, and was
perfectly confident that he had done the best circumstances would allow,
and that he had left me in safe and honourable hands.
On our way to our inn, we met one of the brokers to whom we had spoken
in the morning. He asked if we had found what we wanted. "Oh yes,"
replied my father, "an excellent man, Captain Swales, a friend of Mr
Cruden's--very superior--very superior indeed." The broker, I thought,
looked odd at this, and was at first apparently going to speak; but on
second thoughts he seemed to consider that it was no business of his,
and he passed on with a cold "Oh, really--good-day, sir." It was
afterwards only, perhaps, that his manner struck me; at the time I
supposed that it was usual to him.
We spent most of the afternoon in purchasing a sea-chest and an outfit
for me, according to a list furnished by Mr Cruden, to whose office my
traps were transferred forthwith. We did not go down to see the _Black
Swan_, because Captain Swales said she was a long way off, and was not
fit to receive visitors, but that she would be in a few days. He then
remarked that she was one of the finest and fastest craft out of
Liverpool. "Nothing could beat the _Black Swan_ when she had a mind to
put her best foot foremost." I was wondering whether ships really had
feet. I afterwards found that this was a figurative way of expressing
that she sailed fast. These observations were made when we returned
with my chest to Mr Cruden's, where we again met my future captain; and
when the sum agreed on for my voyage was paid into the hands of the
first-named person, my father's heart was softened towards me; and after
he had exhausted all the good advice he could think of, and had given me
several useful books, and many little articles of his own property, he
made me a present of six pounds as pocket-money, and to purchase
anything I might wish to bring back from America. He took his watch out
of his fob, and would have given me that also, but I persuaded him to
keep it, assuring him that I did not require it, and that I should
certainly break it, or lose it overboard, as would have been the case
probably the first time I went aloft. The next morning my poor father
returned by the steamer to Dublin. He felt very much, I am sure, at
parting from me, more than he would have done under other circumstances,
though by a considerable effort he mastered himself so as not publicly
to betray his emotions. He was gone; and I was left alone in the big
world to look after myself, with little more experience of its ways than
a child.