It Being Sunday, And Nothing
To Do, All Hands Were On The Forecastle, Criticising The New-Comer.
She was a good, substantial ship, not quite so long as the Alert,
and wall-sided and kettle-bottomed,
After the latest fashion of
south-shore cotton and sugar wagons; strong, too, and tight, and a
good average sailor, but with no pretensions to beauty, and nothing
in the style of a "crack ship." Upon the whole, we were perfectly
satisfied that the Alert might hold up her head with a ship twice
as smart as she.
At night, some of us got a boat and went on board, and found
a large, roomy forecastle, (for she was squarer forward than
the Alert,) and a crew of a dozen or fifteen men and boys,
sitting around on their chests, smoking and talking, and ready
to give a welcome to any of our ship's company. It was just
seven months since they left Boston, which seemed but yesterday
to us. Accordingly, we had much to ask, for though we had seen
the newspapers that she brought, yet these were the very men who
had been in Boston and seen everything with their own eyes. One of
the green-hands was a Boston boy, from one of the public schools,
and, of course, knew many things which we wished to ask about, and
on inquiring the names of our two Boston boys, found that they had
been schoolmates of his. Our men had hundreds of questions to ask
about Ann street, the boarding-houses, the ships in port, the rate
of wages, and other matters.
Among her crew were two English man-of-war's-men, so that, of course,
we soon had music. They sang in the true sailor's style, and the
rest of the crew, which was a remarkably musical one, joined in the
choruses. They had many of the latest sailor songs, which had not
yet got about among our merchantmen, and which they were very choice
of. They began soon after we came on board, and kept it up until
after two bells, when the second mate came forward and called "the
Alerts away!" Battle-songs, drinking-songs, boat-songs, love-songs,
and everything else, they seemed to have a complete assortment of,
and I was glad to find that "All in the Downs," "Poor Tom Bowline,"
"The Bay of Biscay," "List, ye Landsmen!" and all those classical
songs of the sea, still held their places. In addition to these,
they had picked up at the theatres and other places a few songs of
a little more genteel cast, which they were very proud of; and I
shall never forget hearing an old salt, who had broken his voice
by hard drinking on shore, and bellowing from the mast-head in a
hundred northwesters, with all manner of ungovernable trills and
quavers in the high notes, breaking into a rough falsetto - and in
the low ones, growling along like the dying away of the boatswain's
"all hands ahoy!" down the hatch-way, singing, "Oh, no, we never
mention him."
"Perhaps, like me, he struggles with
Each feeling of regret;
But if he's loved as I have loved,
He never can forget!"
The last line, being the conclusion, he roared out at the top of
his voice, breaking each word up into half a dozen syllables.
This was very popular, and Jack was called upon every night to
give them his "sentimental song." No one called for it more
loudly than I, for the complete absurdity of the execution,
and the sailors' perfect satisfaction in it, were ludicrous
beyond measure.
The next day, the California commenced unloading her cargo; and
her boats' crews, in coming and going, sang their boat-songs,
keeping time with their oars. This they did all day long for
several days, until their hides were all discharged, when a gang
of them were sent on board the Alert, to help us steeve our hides.
This was a windfall for us, for they had a set of new songs for the
capstan and fall, and ours had got nearly worn out by six weeks'
constant use. I have no doubt that this timely reinforcement of
songs hastened our work several days.
Our cargo was now nearly all taken in; and my old friend, the Pilgrim,
having completed her discharge, unmoored, to set sail the next morning
on another long trip to windward. I was just thinking of her hard
lot, and congratulating myself upon my escape from her, when I
received a summons into the cabin. I went aft, and there found,
seated round the cabin table, my own captain, Captain Faucon of
the Pilgrim, and Mr. R - - -, the agent. Captain T - - - turned
to me and asked abruptly -
"D - - -, do you want to go home in the ship?"
"Certainly, sir," said I; "I expect to go home in the ship."
"Then," said he, "you must get some one to go in your place on
board the Pilgrim."
I was so completely "taken aback" by this sudden intimation, that for
a moment I could make no reply. I knew that it would be hopeless to
attempt to prevail upon any of the ship's crew to take twelve months
more upon the California in the brig. I knew, too, that Captain
T - - - had received orders to bring me home in the Alert, and he
had told me, when I was at the hide-house, that I was to go home
in her; and even if this had not been so, it was cruel to give me
no notice of the step they were going to take, until a few hours
before the brig would sail. As soon as I had got my wits about me,
I put on a bold front, and told him plainly that I had a letter in
my chest informing me that he had been written to, by the owners
in Boston, to bring me home in the ship, and moreover, that he
had told me that I was to go in the ship.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 107 of 167
Words from 108456 to 109471
of 170236
