A NEW SCENE AND STRANGE FACES.
Four o'clock P.M. had been tolled from all the steeples in Edinburgh,
when Flora stood upon the pier "o' Leith," watching the approach of the
small boat which was to convey her on board the ugly black vessel which
lay at anchor at the Berwick Law. It was a warm, close, hazy afternoon;
distant thunder muttered among the hills, and dense clouds floated
around the mountain from base to summit, shrouding its rugged outline in
a mysterious robe of mist. Ever and anon, as the electrical breeze
sprang up and stirred these grey masses of vapour, they rolled up in
black shadowy folds which took all sorts of Ossianic and phantom-like
forms--spirits of bards and warriors, looking from their grey clouds
upon the land their songs had immortalised, or their valour saved.
Parties of emigrants and their friends were gathered together in small
picturesque groups on the pier. The cheeks of the women were pale and
wet with tears. The words of blessing and farewell, spoken to those
near and dear to them, were often interrupted by low wailing and
heart-breaking sobs.
Flora stood apart waiting for her husband, who had been to the ship, and
was in the returning boat now making its way through the water to take
her off. Sad she was, and pale and anxious, for the wide world was all
before her, a world of new scenes and strange faces. A future as
inscrutable and mysterious almost as that from which humanity
instinctively shrinks, which leads so many to cling with expiring energy
to evils with which they have grown familiar, rather than launch alone
into that unknown sea which never bears upon its bosom a returning sail.
Ah! well is it for the poor trembling denizens of earth that--
"Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate,"
or how could they bear up from day to day against the accumulated
ills which beset them at every turn along the crooked paths of life?
Flora had already experienced that bitterness of grief, far worse than
death, which separates the emigrant from the home of his love, the
friends of his early youth, the land of his birth; and she shed no tear
over the mournful recollection, though the deep sigh which shook her
heart to its inmost depths, told that it was still felt and painfully
present to her memory. She stood alone among that weeping crowd; no
kindred hand was there to press hers for the last, last time, or bid God
speed her on her perilous voyage. What a blessing it would have been at
that moment, to have bent a parting glance on some dear familiar face,
and gathered strength and consolation from eyes full of affection and
sympathy!
The beautiful landscape which had so often cheered and gladdened her
heart, during her brief sojourn, no longer smiled upon her, but was
obscured in storm and gloom. The thunder which had only muttered at a
distance, now roared among the cloud-capped hills, and heavy drops of
rain began to patter slowly upon the earth and sea. These bright
globules in advance of the heavy shower whose approach they announced,
made small dimples in the waters, spreading anon into large circles,
until the surface of the salt brine seemed to boil and dance, which a
few minutes before had lain so glassy and still, beneath the hot breath
of the coming storm. Flora thought how soon those billows would chafe
and roar for ever between her and her native land.
Then the lines of Nature's own bard, the unhappy but immortal Burns,
whose fame had become as eternal as those ancient hills, rose to her
mind, and she could fancy him standing upon that very spot, breathing
out from the depths of his great inspired heart, the painful separation
he anticipated, when called by adverse circumstances to leave old
Scotia's shores, and the woman he adored--
"The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
The ship rides at the Berwick Law,
And I maun leave my bonnie Mary."
The words still hovered on her lips when the boat touched the pier, and
her husband threw his arms around her, and lifted her and the dear
offspring of their mutual love, into the small bark which was to bear
them away from the glorious land of Bruce and Burns. The men bent to
their oars, and in a few minutes she found herself one among the many
strangers that crowded the narrow deck of the emigrant ship.
The downpouring of the thunder-shower compelled her to take instant
refuge in the cabin, followed by Hannah and the child. The little dingy
place dignified by that name, was crowded with trunks and packages,
piled upon each other in endless confusion. And the close atmosphere was
rendered more hot and suffocating from the mingled odours of brandy,
onions, red-herrings, and tobacco. The smoke from several pipes floated
in lazy wreaths through the confined space, and effectually concealed,
for the first few minutes, the parties indulging in the dreamy luxury of
the fragrant weed.
The gloom occasioned by the passing thunder-clouds produced a dim
twilight in the little room, which looked more like the den in a
travelling menagerie, appropriated to the use of some imprisoned lord of
the desert, than a fitting habitation for civilized men and women.
Flora groped her way to the bench which surrounded the walls, and, for a
few minutes, covered her face with her hands, to conceal her agitation
and keep down the swelling of her heart, before she gained sufficient
courage to reconnoitre the aspect of her temporary home. At length, she
succeeded in calming her feelings, and was able to look about her.
The Captain was sitting upon a large trunk in his shirt-sleeves, with a
short pipe stuck between his teeth, holding in one hand a tumbler of
brandy punch, and in the other a bundle of papers containing a list of
his passengers, which he was in the act of proffering for the inspection
of the excise officers, who were settling with him sundry matters of
business, connected with the cargo of the ship.
Two sinister, ill-looking men they were, who spoke with loud,
authoritative voices, and, for the time being, appeared masters of the
vessel and all that it contained, examining with provoking exactness,
cupboards, bedding, boxes, and binns of biscuit, till there seemed no
end to their prying and vexatious system of cross-questioning.
The Captain notified his consciousness of the presence of the new-comers
with a short nod of recognition; but he was too much occupied to welcome
them with words. He seemed in a desperate ill-humour with his official
visitors, and replied to all their queries with a significant elevation
of his broad shoulders, and a brief "No" or "Yes," which greatly
resembled a growl.
During his absence on deck, whither he accompanied the senior officer,
his companion, who was seated on the bench opposite to that occupied by
Mrs. Lyndsay and her maid, with his back to an open binn, full of
biscuits and other sea-stores, took the opportunity afforded by the
Captain's departure, to fill the huge pockets in his large jacket with
the said stores, until his tall, lank person, was swelled out into very
portly dimensions. He then made a sudden dash at the brandy-bottle
(which the Captain had left on the table), and, casting a thievish
glance at Mrs. Lyndsay, who was highly amused by watching his movements,
he refilled his glass, and tossed it off with the air of a child who is
afraid of being detected, while on a foraging expedition into Mamma's
cupboard. This matter settled, he wiped his mouth with the cuff of his
jacket, and assumed a look of vulgar consequence and superiority, which
must have forced a smile to Flora's lips had she been at all in a humour
for mirth.
"Strange!" she thought, as she sat muffled up in her cloak, a silent
spectatress of his manoeuvres, "that such a mean, dishonest wretch as
this, should be empowered to act the petty tyrant, and pass judgment on
the integrity of others, who is so destitute of the principles of common
honesty himself!"
She certainly forgot, during her mental colloquy, the wisdom concealed
beneath the homely adage, "Set a thief to catch a thief!" and the
profound knowledge of the world hidden in that brief, pithy sentence.
The provoking business of inspection (for so it seemed to the
Captain--to judge by his flushed cheek and frowning brow,) was at length
over; the officers withdrew, and were succeeded by the doctor, who was
appointed to inspect the health of the crew and passengers, before the
ship sailed.
Doctor MacAdie was a lively, little, red haired man, with high
cheek-bones, and a large Roman nose out of all proportion to the size of
his diminutive body, but perfectly harmonising with his wide,
sensible-looking mouth. His sharp, clear blue eyes, seemed to have crept
as close to his nose as they possibly could, in the vain hope of
glancing over the high, ridgy barrier it formed between them, which gave
to their owner a peculiarly acute, penetrating expression,--a glance
which appeared to look you through and through; yet, though extremely
grotesque, it was a benevolent, pleasing face, full of blunt kindness
and ready wit.
The Doctor's snuff-box seemed part and parcel of himself; for the
quaint, old-fashioned horn repository, which contained the pungent
powder, _real Scotch_, never left his hand during his professional
dialogue with Mrs. Lyndsay.
He shook his head, as his keen eyes read sickness of mind and body in
her weary and care-worn face. "Ye are ill, my gude leddy," said he in
broad Scotch; "in nae condition to undertak' sic a lang voyage."
Mrs. Lyndsay answered frankly and truly, that she had been indisposed
during the past week, and her recovery was so recent, that she felt much
better in health than her looks warranted.
The Doctor examined her tongue, felt her pulse, and still shook his head
doubtingly. "Feverish--rapid pulse--bad tongue--just out o' yer bed,
from attack near akin to cholera. I tell ye that ye are mair fit to go
to bed again, under the dochtor's care, than to attempt crossing the
Atlantic in a close crib like this."
"The fresh sea air will soon restore me to health," said Flora. "You
know, Doctor, that we cannot command circumstances, and have things
exactly as we could wish;" and she checked the sigh which rose to her
lips, as she recalled to mind her dear, comfortable cottage at ----, and
glanced round the narrow cabin, and its miserable accommodations.
The Doctor regarded her with eyes full of compassion. He certainly
guessed her thoughts, and seemed as well acquainted with complaints of
the mind as with bodily ailments.
"Weel, weel, I ha'e my ain doubts as to your fitness for sic a voyage in
your weak state; but I'll e'en jist let ye pass. Are you married or
single?"
"Married."
"An' the gudeman?----"
"Is on deck with the captain. He will be here presently."
"Ha'e ye ony bairns?"
Flora pointed, with a feeling of maternal pride, to the little Josey,
who was sleeping upon Hannah's knees,--a lovely picture of healthy,
happy infancy.
"Ay, she's bonnie," cried the kind Doctor, taking one of the tiny
alabaster fingers of the babe in his red, rough hand. "Sma' need o' a
dochter in her case. An' wha's this woman?" touching Hannah's shoulder
with his forefinger.
"My nurse-girl."
"A married woman?"
"No, Sir."
"She shu'd be, I'm jist thinkin'; it will not be lang before she's a
mither," muttered the little man. Then, turning quickly to Flora, he
said, "I wull speak to the medical man on board, an' tell him to tak'
partic'lar care o' you during the voyage. What's his name?"
"There is no such person. The vessel is too small to incur such an
expensive addition to the comfort of her passengers. The captain told me
that he was his own doctor."
"How many passengers does he tak' out?"
"Seventy-two in the steerage, five in the cabin, besides his crew, eight
in number."
"Eighty-five human beings, an' no medical man on board! 'Tis jest a'
disgrace to the owners, and shu'd be reported. In case o' cholera, or
ony other epeedemic brakin' out amang ye, wha wu'd become o' ye a'?"
"We must trust in God. The great Physician of souls will not be
forgetful of our bodily infirmities."
"True, true, young leddy; cling close to Him. Ye ha' muckle need o' His
care. An' dinna trust your life to the dochtering o' a sullen ignoramus
like the captain,--an obstinate, self-willed brute, that, right or
wrang, will ha' his ain way. Dinna tak' ony medicine frae him."
Flora was amused at the idea of calling in a one-eyed Esculapius like
the jolly captain. The absurdity of the thing made her laugh heartily.
"It's nae laughing matter," said the little doctor, whose professional
dignity was evidently wounded by her mistimed mirth.
"Hout! dinna' I ken the man for the last ten years or mair. Thae
medicine kist he prizes mair than his sole remaining e'e, an' fancies
himsel a dochtor fitting a king. Ye canna' please him mair than by
gie'n' him a job. The last voyage he made in this verra brig, he
administered in his ignorance, a hale pint o' castor oil in ain dose to
a lad on board, which took the puir fallow aff his legs completely.
Anither specimen o' his medical skill was gie'n are o' his crew, a
heapen spun-fu' o' calomel, which he mistook for magnesia. I varilie
believe that he canna' spell weel eneugh to read the directions in the
buik. An' is it to sic a dunderheid that the lives of eighty-five human
beings are to be entrusted?"
Flora was highly entertained by this account of the Captain's skill;
while the doctor, who loved to hear himself talk, continued in a more
impressive and confidential tone--
"Now, dinna be sae ill-advised as to be takin' pheesic a' the time,
young leddy. If ye wu'd keep yersel in health, persuade the Captain to
gie ye the charge o' yon kist o' poisons, an' tak' the first opportunity
to drap the key by accident overboord. By sae doin' ye may be the savin'
o' your ain life, an' the lives of a' the humanities on boord the brig
_Anne_."
Flora was fond of a little amateur doctoring. To part with the
medicine-chest, she considered, would be a great sin, and she was
already secretly longing to overhaul its contents.
A few well-established remedies, promptly administered in simple cases
of illness, and followed by the recovery of the patients, had made her
imagine herself quite a genius in the healing art; and she rejected the
homely little Doctor's last piece of advice as an eccentric whim,
arising either from ignorance of his profession, or from disappointment
in not having been appointed surgeon to the brig.
Dr. MacAdie was neither deficient in skill nor talent. He was a poor
man, of poor parentage, who had worked hard to obtain his present
position, and provide a comfortable home for his father and mother in
their old age. His practice was entirely confined to the humble walks of
life, and he was glad to obtain a few additional meals for a large
family by inspecting the health of emigrants preparatory to their
voyage.
In this case, his certificate of health was very satisfactory; and he
told the Captain that he had seldom seen a heartier, healthier set o'
_decent_ bodies in sic a sma' vessel, and hepathetically entreated him
not to tamper with their constitutions, by giving them dangerous drugs
whose chemical properties he did not understand, declaring emphatically,
"That nature was the best _phesician_ after all." The Captain considered
this gratuitous piece of advice as an insult, for he very gruffly bade
Doctor MacAdie "Take care of his own patients; he wanted none of his
impertinent interference."
The little Doctor drew up his shoulders with an air of profound
contempt; then taking a monstrous pinch of snuff, in the most sneezable
manner, from his old-fashioned box, he shook Mrs. Lyndsay kindly by the
hand, and wishing her and her _gudeman_ a prosperous voyage, vanished up
the companion-ladder.
Old Boreas shook his fist after his retreating figure. "You d----d,
insignificant, snuffy little coxcomb! I'm a d----d sight better doctor
than you are. If the Government sends you again, poking your long nose
among my people, I'll make a surgical case for you to examine at home at
your leisure, I will."
In order to divert his ill-humour, Flora inquired at what hour the ship
sailed?
"She must wait for that which never yet waited for mortal man--wind and
tide. It will be midnight before we get under weigh."
Boreas always spoke in short sentences. He was a man of few words,
rough, ready, and eccentrically blunt. Had his talents been proportioned
to his obstinacy of will, he might have ruled over large communities,
instead of acting the petty tyrant on the deck of his small craft. Right
or wrong, he never gave up his opinion to any one. He certainly did not
belong to the "_Ay, Sir--very true, Sir_"--school of individuals, who
would resign their own souls to agree with their superiors in rank or
power. If there was a being on earth that he despised more than
another, it was a sneak. On one occasion, when a steerage passenger, in
order to curry favour, was prostrating himself before him after this
fashion, assuring the Captain, "That _his_ thoughts coincided _exactly_
with his own," he burst out in a towering passion, "D---- you Sir!
haven't you got an opinion of your own? I don't want such a sneaking
puppy as you to think my thoughts, and echo my words. I should despise
myself, if I thought it possible that we could agree on any subject."
If really convinced that he was wrong, he would show it by a slight
diminution of his ferocious stubbornness; but would never acknowledge it
in words. If he gained even a doubtful advantage over an adversary, he
rubbed his hands, clapped his knees, and chuckled and growled out his
satisfaction, in a manner peculiarly his own. He was only tolerable as a
companion after taking his third glass of brandy-and-water; and as he
commenced these humanizing doses by daybreak in the morning, repeating
them at stated intervals during the four-and-twenty hours, by noon he
became sociable and entertaining; and would descend from his
anti-meridian dignity, and condescend to laugh and chat in a dry
humorous style, which, if it lacked refinement, was highly amusing.
Though an inveterate imbiber of alcohol, he was never positively drunk
during the whole voyage. The evil spirits seemed to make no impression
upon the iron fibres of his stubborn brain and heart. He judged his
morality by the toughness of his constitution, and congratulated himself
on being a sober man, while he complained of his second mate, and
stigmatised him as a drunken, worthless fellow, because one glass of
punch made him intoxicated. This is by no means an uncommon thing both
at home and abroad; and men condemn others more for want of strength of
head, than strength of heart.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note:
Variations in spelling, use of hyphenated words, and in dialect have
been retained as they appear in the original book. Changes have been
made as follows:
Page 16 ropes fr you changed to ropes for you
Page 17 grey esey sparkled changed to grey eyes sparkled
Page 65 added double closing quotation mark to Busy at work, too?"
Page 92 real Havanna changed to real Havana
Page 95 one of these days.' changed to one of these days."
Page 96 and getting none, changed to and getting none.
Page 104 and by some mismagement changed to by some mismanagement
Page 140 very plausibly changed to very plausible
Page 146 added double closing quotation mark to heart-breaking
regret."
Page 148 stumblingblocks changed to stumbling blocks
Page 150 Then sideling changed to Then sidling
Page 153 deep vexation changed to deep vexation.
Page 156 Bad beginings changed to Bad beginnings
Page 169 handsome young quaker changed to handsome young Quaker
Page 177 carolled high in air changed to carolled high in the air
Page 193 rest of his journey, changed to rest of his journey.
Page 214 it annoyed her " changed to it annoyed her."
Page 232 my Mammy say?' changed to my Mammy say?"
Page 240 browze and gambol changed to browse and gambol
Page 240 and when the arrived changed to and when they arrived
Page 246 added double closing quotation mark after not have seen
this."
Page 261 removed double closing quotation mark after half-pennyworth
of taste.
Page 267 added double closing quotation mark after dimensions of the
fire."
Page 271 said Flora coaxingly., changed to said Flora coaxingly.
Page 271 added double closing quotation mark after an' boil an'
roast!"
Page 288 and in a few miuutes changed to and in a few minutes
Page 291 Doctor Mac Adie changed to Doctor MacAdie