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Chapter XXIX (Continued)
Chapter XXIX (Continued)
Our Cargo Taken In for the Voyage Home
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.
To have this told him, and to be opposed in such a manner, was more than
my lord paramount had been used to.
He turned fiercely upon me, and tried to look me down, and face me out of
my statement; but finding that that wouldn`t do, and that I was entering upon
my defence in such a way as would show to the other two that he was in the
wrong, - he changed his ground, and pointed to the shipping papers of the
Pilgrim, from which my name had never been erased, and said that there was my
name, - that I belonged to her, - that he had an absolute discretionary power,
- and, in short, that I must be on board the Pilgrim by the next morning with
my chest and hammock, or have some one ready to go in my place, and that he
would not hear another word from me. No court or star chamber could proceed
more summarily with a poor devil, than this trio was about to do with me;
condemning me to a punishment worse than a Botany Bay exile, and to a fate
which would alter the whole current of my future life; for two years more in
California would have made me a sailor for the rest of my days. I felt all
this, and saw the necessity of being determined. I repeated what I had said,
and insisted upon my right to return in the ship.
I "raised my arm, and tauld my crack,
Before them a."
But it would have all availed me nothing, had I been "some poor body,"
before this absolute, domineering tribunal. But they saw that I would not go,
unless "vi et armis," and they knew that I had friends and interest enough at
home to make them suffer for any injustice they might do me. It was probably
this that turned the matter; for the captain changed his tone entirely, and
asked me if, in case any one went in my place, I would give him the same sum
that S____ gave Harris to exchange with him. I told him that if any one was
sent on board the brig, I should pity him, and be willing to help him to that,
or almost any amount; but would not speak of it as an exchange.
"Very well," said he. "Go forward about your business, and send English
Ben here to me!"
I went forward with a light heart, but feeling as angry, and as much
contempt as I could well contain between my teeth. English Ben was sent aft,
and in a few moments came forward, looking as though he had received his
sentence to be hung. The captain had told him to get his things ready to go on
board the brig the next morning; and that I would give him thirty dollars and
a suit of clothes. The hands had "knocked off" for dinner, and were standing
about the forecastle, when Ben came forward and told his story. I could see
plainly that it made a great excitement, and that, unless I explained the
matter to them, the feeling would be turned against me. Ben was a poor English
boy, a stranger in Boston, and without friends or money; and being an active,
willing lad, and a good sailor for his years, was a general favorite. "Oh,
yes!" said the crew, "the captain has let you off, because you are a
gentleman`s son, and have got friends, and know the owners; and taken Ben,
because he is poor, and has got nobody to say a word for him!" I knew that
this was too true to be answered, but I excused myself from any blame, and
told them that I had a right to go home, at all events. This pacified them a
little, but Jack had got a notion that a poor lad was to be imposed upon, and
did not distinguish very clearly; and though I knew that I was in no fault,
and, in fact, had barely escaped the grossest injustice, yet I felt that my
berth was getting to be a disagreeable one. The notion that I was not "one of
them," which, by a participation in all their labor and hardships, and having
no favor shown me, had been laid asleep, was beginning to revive. But far
stronger than any feeling for myself, was the pity I felt for the poor lad. He
had depended upon going home in the ship; and from Boston, was going
immediately to Liverpool, to see his friends. Beside this, having begun the
voyage with very few clothes, he had taken up the greater part of his wages in
the slop-chest, and it was every day a losing concern to him; and, like all
the rest of the crew, he had a hearty hatred of California, and the prospect
of eighteen months or two years more of hide-droghing seemed completely to
break down his spirit. I had determined not to go myself, happen what would,
and I knew that the captain would not dare to attempt to force me. I knew,
too, that the two captains had agreed together to get some one, and that
unless I could prevail upon somebody to go voluntarily, there would be no help
for Ben. From this consideration, though I had said that I would have nothing
to do with an exchange, I did my best to get some one to go voluntarily. I
offered to give an order upon the owners in Boston for six months` wages, and
also all the clothes, books, and other matters, which I should not want upon
the voyage home. When this offer was published in the ship, and the case of
poor Ben was set forth in strong colors, several, who would not have dreamed
of going themselves, were busy in talking it up to others, who, they thought,
might be tempted to accept it; and, at length, one fellow, a harum-scarum
lad, whom we called Harry Bluff, and who did not care what country or ship he
was in, if he had clothes enough and money enough - partly from pity for Ben,
and partly from the thought he should have "cruising money" for the rest of
his stay, - came forward, and offered to go and "sling his hammock in the
bloody hooker." Lest his purpose should cool, I signed an order for the sum
upon the owners in Boston, gave him all the clothes I could spare, and sent
him aft to the captain, to let him know what had been done. The skipper
accepted the exchange, and was, doubtless, glad to have it pass off so easily.
At the same time he cashed the order, which was endorsed to him,^1 and the
next morning, the lad went aboard the brig, apparently in good spirits, having
shaken hands with each of us and wished us a pleasant passage home, jingling
the money in his pockets, and calling out, "Never say die, while there`s a
shot in the locker." The same boat carried off Harris, my old watchmate, who
had previously made an exchange with my friend S____.
[Footnote 1: When the crew were paid off in Boston, the owners answered the
order, but generously refused to deduct the amount from the pay-roll, saying
that the exchange was made under compulsion. They also allowed S - his
exchange money.]
I was sorry to part with Harris. Nearly two hundred hours (as we had
calculated it) had we walked the ship`s deck together, at anchor watch, when
all hands were below, and talked over and over every subject which came within
the ken of either of us. He gave me a strong gripe with his hand; and I told
him, if he came to Boston again, not to fail to find me out, and let me see an
old watchmate. The same boat brought on board S -, my friend, who had begun
the voyage with me from Boston, and, like me, was going back to his family and
to the society which we had been born and brought up in. We congratulated one
another upon finding what we had long talked over and wished for, thus brought
about; and none on board the ship were more glad than ourselves to see the old
brig standing round the point, under full sail. As she passed abreast of us,
we all collected in the waist, and gave her three loud, hearty cheers, waving
our hats in the air. Her crew sprang into the rigging and chains, answered us
with three as loud, to which we, after the nautical custom, gave one in
return. I took my last look of their familiar faces as they got over the rail,
and saw the old black cook put his head out of the galley, and wave his cap
over his head. The crew flew aloft to loose the top-gallant sails and
royals; the two captains waved their hands to one another; and, in ten
minutes, we saw the last inch of her white canvas, as she rounded the point.
Relieved as I was to see her well off, (and I felt like one who had just
sprung from an iron trap which was closing upon him) I had yet a feeling of
regret at taking the last look at the old craft in which I had spent a year,
and the first year, of my sailor`s life - which had been my first home in the
new world into which I had entered - and with which I had associated so many
things, - my first leaving home, my first crossing the equator, Cape Horn,
Juan Fernandez, death at sea, and other things, serious and common. Yet, with
all this, and the feeling I had for my old shipmates, condemned to another
term of California life, the thought that we were done with it, and that one
week more would see us on our way to Boston, was a cure for everything.
Friday, May 6th, completed the taking of our cargo, and was a memorable
day in our calendar. The time when we were to take in our last hide, we had
looked forward to, for sixteen months, as the first bright spot. When the last
hide was stowed away, and the hatches calked down, the tarpaulins battened on
to them, the long-boat hoisted in and secured, and the decks swept down for
the night, - the chief mate sprang upon the top of the long-boat, called all
hands into the waist, and giving us a signal by swinging his cap over his
head, - we gave three long, loud cheers, which came from the bottom of our
hearts, and made the hills and valleys ring again. In a moment, we heard
three, in answer, from the California`s crew, who had seen us taking in our
long-boat, and - "the cry they heard - its meaning knew."
The last week, we had been occupied in taking in a supply of wood and
water for the passage home, and bringing on board the spare spars, sails, etc.
I was sent off with a party of Indians to fill the water-casks, at a spring,
about three miles from the shipping, and near the town, and was absent three
days, living at the town, and spending the daytime in filling the casks and
transporting them on ox-carts to the landing-place, whence they were taken
on board by the crew with boats. This being all done with, we gave one day to
bending our sails; and at night, every sail, from the courses to the skysails,
was bent, and every studding-sail ready for setting.
Before our sailing, an unsuccessful attempt was made by one of the crew
of the California to effect an exchange with one of our number. It was a lad,
between fifteen and sixteen years of age, who went by the name of the
"reefer," having been a midshipman in an East India Company`s ship. His
singular character and story had excited our interest ever since the ship came
into the port. He was a delicate, slender little fellow, with a beautiful
pearly complexion, regular features, forehead as white as marble, black
haired, curling beautifully, rounded, tapering, delicate fingers, small feet,
soft voice, gentle manners, and, in fact, every sign of having been well born
and bred. At the same time there was something in his expression which showed
slight deficiency of intellect. How great the deficiency was, or what it
resulted from; whether he was born so; whether it was the result of disease or
accident; or whether, as some said, it was brought on by his distress of mind,
during the voyage, I cannot say. From his own account of himself, and from
many circumstances which were known in connection with his story, he must have
been the son of a man of wealth. His mother was an Italian woman. He was
probably a natural son, for in scarcely any other way could the incidents of
his early life be accounted for. He said that his parents did not live
together, and he seemed to have been ill treated by his father. Though he had
been delicately brought up, and indulged in every way, (and he had then with
him trinkets which have been given him at home,) yet his education had been
sadly neglected; and when only twelve years old, he was sent as midshipman in
the Company`s service. His own story was, that he afterwards ran away from
home, upon a difficulty which he had with his father, and went to Liverpool,
whence he sailed in the ship Rialto, Captain Holmes, for Boston. Captain
Holmes endeavored to get him a passage back, but there being no vessel to sail
for some time, the boy left him, and went to board at a common sailor`s
boarding-house, in Ann street, where he supported himself for a few weeks by
selling some of his valuables. At length, according to his own account, being
desirous of returning home, he went to a shipping-office, where the shipping
articles of the California were open. Upon asking where the ship was going, he
was told by the shipping-master that she was bound to California. Not
knowing where that was, he told him that he wanted to go to Europe, and asked
if California was in Europe. The shipping-master answered him in a way which
the boy did not understand, and advised him to ship. The boy signed the
articles, received his advance, laid out a little of it in clothes, and spent
the rest, and was ready to go on board, when, upon the morning of sailing, he
heard that the ship was bound upon the north-west Coast, on a two or three
years` voyage, and was not going to Europe. Frightened at this prospect, he
slipped away when the crew was going aboard, wandered up into another part of
the town, and spent all the forenoon in straying about the common, and the
neighboring streets. Having no money, and all his clothes and other things
being in the chest, on board, and being a stranger, he became tired and
hungry, and ventured down toward the shipping, to see if the vessel had
sailed. He was just turning the corner of a street, when the shipping -
master, who had been in search of him, popped upon him, seized him, and
carried him on board. He cried and struggled, and said he did not wish to go
in the ship, but the topsails were at the masthead, the fasts just ready to be
cast off, and everything in the hurry and confusion of departure, so that he
was hardly noticed; and the few who did inquire about the matter were told
that it was merely a boy who had spent his advance and tried to run away. Had
the owners of the vessel known anything of the matter, they would have
interfered at once; but they either knew nothing of it, or heard, like the
rest, that it was only an unruly boy who was sick of his bargain. As soon as
the boy found himself actually at sea, and upon a voyage of two or three years
in length, his spirits failed him; he refused to work, and became so
miserable, that Captain Arthur took him into the cabin, where he assisted the
steward, and occasionally pulled and hauled about decks. He was in this
capacity when we saw him; and though it was much better for him than the life
in the forecastle, and the hard work, watching, and exposure, which his
delicate frame could not have borne, yet, to be joined with a black fellow in
waiting upon a man whom he probably looked upon as but little, in point of
education and manners, above one of his father`s servants, was almost too much
for his spirit to bear. Had he entered upon his situation of his own free
will, he could have endured it; but to have been deceived, and, in addition to
that, forced into it, was intolerable. He made every effort to go home in our
ship, but his captain refused to part with him except in the way of exchange,
and that he could not effect. If this account of the whole matter, which we
had from the boy, and which was confirmed by all the crew, be correct, I
cannot understand why Captain Arthur should have refused to let him go,
especially being a captain who had the name, not only with that crew, but with
all whom he had ever commanded, of an unusually kind-hearted man. The truth
is, the unlimited power which merchant captains have, upon long voyages on
strange coasts, takes away a sense of responsibility, and too often, even in
men otherwise well-disposed, substitutes a disregard for the rights and
feelings of others. The lad was sent on shore to join the gang at the hide -
house; from whence, I was afterwards rejoiced to hear, he effected his escape,
and went down to Callao in a small Spanish schooner; and from Callao, he
probably returned to England.
Soon after the arrival of the California, I spoke to Captain Arthur about
Hope; and as he had known him on the voyage before, and was very fond of him,
he immediately went to see him, gave him proper medicines, and, under such
care, he began rapidly to recover. The Saturday night before our sailing, I
spent an hour in the oven, and took leave of my Kanaka friends; and, really,
this was the only thing connected with leaving California which was in any way
unpleasant. I felt an interest and affection for many of these simple, true
hearted men, such as I never felt before but for a near relation. Hope shook
me by the hand, said he should soon be well again, and ready to work for me
when I came upon the coast, next voyage, as officer of the ship; and told me
not to forget, when I became captain, how to be kind to the sick. Old "Mr.
Bingham" and "King Mannini" went down to the boat with me, shook me heartily
by the hand, wished us a good voyage, and went back to the oven, chanting one
of their deep monotonous songs, the burden of which I gathered to be about us
and our voyage.
Sunday, May 8th. This promised to be our last day in California. Our
forty thousand hides, thirty thousand horns, besides several barrels of otter
and beaver skins, were all stowed below, and the hatches calked down. All our
spare spars were taken on board and lashed; our water-casks secured; and our
live stock, consisting of four bullocks, a dozen sheep, a dozen or more pigs,
and three or four dozen of poultry, were all stowed away in their different
quarters: the bullocks in the long-boat, the sheep in a pen on the fore-hatch,
and the pigs in a sty under the bows of the long-boat, and the poultry in
their proper coop; and the jolly-boat was full of hay for the sheep and
bullocks. Our unusually large cargo, together with the stores for a five
months` voyage, brought the ship channels down into the water. In addition to
this, she had been steeved so thoroughly, and was so bound by the compression
of her cargo, forced into her by so powerful machinery, that she was like a
man in a straight-jacket, and would be but a dull sailer, until she had
worked herself loose.
The California had finished discharging her cargo, and was to get under
weigh at the same time with us. Having washed down decks and got our
breakfast, the two vessel lay side by side, in complete readiness for sea, our
ensigns hanging form the peaks, and our tall spars reflected from the glassy
surface of the river, which, since sunrise, had been unbroken by a ripple. At
length, a few whiffs came across the water, and, by eleven o`clock, the
regular north-west wind set steadily in. There was no need of calling all
hands, for we had all been hanging about the forecastle the whole forenoon,
and were ready for a start upon the first sign of a breeze. All eyes were aft
upon the captain, who was walking the deck, with, every now and then, a look
to windward. He made a sign to the mate, who came forward, took his station,
deliberately between the knight-heads, cast a glance aloft, and called out,
"All hands, lay aloft and loose the sails!" We were half in the rigging before
the order came, and never since we left Boston were the gaskets off the yards,
and the rigging overhauled, in a shorter time. "All ready forward, sir!" -
"All ready the main!" - "cross-jack yards all ready, sir!" - "Lay down, all
hands but one on each yard!" The yard-arm and bunt gaskets were cast off; and
each sail hung by the jigger, with one man standing by the tie to let it go.
At the same moment that we sprang aloft, a dozen hands sprang into the rigging
of the California, and in an instant were all over her yards; and her sails,
too, were ready to be dropped at the word. In the mean time our bow gun had
been loaded and run out, and its discharge was to be the signal for dropping
sails. A cloud of smoke came out of our bows; the echoes of the gun rattled
our farewell among the hills of California; and the two ships were covered,
from head to foot, with their white canvas. For a few minutes, all was uproar
and apparent confusion: men flying about like monkeys in the rigging; ropes
and blocks flying; orders given and answered, and the confused noises of men
singing out at the ropes. The top-sails came to the mast-heads with "Cheerily,
men!" and, in a few minutes, every sail was set; for the wind was light. The
head sails were backed, the windlass came round "slip-slap" to the cry of
the sailors; - "Hove short, sir," said the mate; - "Up with him!" - "Aye, aye,
sir." - A few hearty and long heaves, and the anchor showed its head. "Hook
cat!" - The fall was stretched along the decks; all hands laid hold; "Hurrah,
for the last time," said the mate; and the anchor came to the cat head to the
tune of "Time for us to go," with a loud chorus. Everything was done quick, as
though it were for the last time. The head yards were filed away, and our ship
began to move through the water on her homeward-bound course.
The California had got under weights at the same moment; and we sailed
down the narrow bay abreast and were just off the mouth, and finding ourselves
gradually shooting ahead of her, were on the point of giving her three parting
cheers, when, suddenly, we found ourselves stopped short, and the California
ranging fast ahead of us. A bar stretches across the mouth of the harbor, with
water enough to float common vessels, but, being low in the water, and having
kept well to leeward, as we were bound to the southward, we had stuck fast,
while the California, being light, had floated over.
We kept all sail on, in the hope of forcing over, but failing in this, we
hove aback, and lay waiting for the tide, which was on the flood, to take us
back into the channel. This was somewhat of a damper to us, and the captain
looked not a little mortified and vexed. "This is the same place where the
Rosa got ashore," observed the redheaded second mate, most mal-a-propos. A
malediction on the Rosa, and him too, was all the answer he got, and he slunk
off to leeward. In a few minutes, the force of the wind and the rising of the
tide backed us into the stream, and we were on our way to our old anchoring -
place, the tide setting swiftly up, and the ship barely manageable, in the
light breeze. We came-to, in our old berth, opposite the hide-house, whose
inmates were not a little surprised to see us return. We felt as though we
were tied to California; and some of the crew swore that they never should get
clear of the bloody coast.
In about half an hour, which was near high water, the order was given to
man the windlass, and again the anchor was catted; but not a word was said
about the last time. The California had come back on finding that we had
returned, and was hove-to, waiting for us, off the point. This time we passed
the bar safely, and were soon up with the California, who filled away, and
kept us company. She seemed desirous of a trial of speed, and our captain
accepted the challenge, although we were loaded down to the bolts of our chain
plates, as deep as a sand-barge, and bound so taught with our cargo that we
were no more fit for a race than a man in fetters; - while our antagonist was
in her best trim. Being clear of the point, the breeze became stiff, and the
royal masts bent under our sails, but we would not take them in until we saw
three boys spring aloft into the rigging of the California; when they were all
furled at once, but with orders to stay aloft at the top-gallant mastheads,
and loose them again at the word. It was my duty to furl the fore royal; and
while standing by to loose it again, I had a fine view of the scene. From
where I stood, the two vessels seemed nothing but spars and sails, while their
narrow decks, far below, slanting over the great fabrics raised upon them. The
California was to windward of us, and had every advantage; yet, while the
breeze was stiff, we held our own. As soon as it began to slacken, she ranged
a little ahead, and the order was given to loose the royals. In an instant the
gaskets were off and the bunt dropped. "Sheet home the fore royal! - Weather
sheet`s home!" - "Hoist away, sir!" is bawled from aloft. "Overhaul your
clew-lines!" shouts the mate. "Aye, aye, sir, all clear!" - "Taught leech!
belay! Well the lee brace; haul taught to windward" - and the royals are set.
These brought us up again; but the wind continuing light, the California set
hers, and it was soon evident that she was walking away from us. Our captain
then hailed, and said that he should keep off to his course; adding - "She
isn`t the Alert now. If I had her in your trim, she would have been out of
sight by this time." This was good-naturedly answered from the California, and
she braced sharp up, and stood close upon the wind up the coast; while we
squared away our yards, and stood before the wind to the south-south-west. The
California`s crew manned her weather rigging, waved their hats in the air, and
gave up three hearty cheers, which we answered as heartily, and the customary
single cheer came back to us from over the water. She stood on her way, doomed
to eighteen months` or two years` hard service upon that hated coast, while we
were making our way to our home, to which every hour and every mile was
bringing us nearer.
As soon as we parted company with the California, all hands were sent
aloft to set the studding-sails. Booms were rigged out, tacks and halyards
rove, sail after sail packed upon her, until every available inch of canvas
was spread, that we might not lose a breath of the fair wind. We could now see
how much she was cramped and deadened by her cargo; for with a good breeze on
her quarter, and every stitch of canvas spread, we could not get more than six
knots out of her. She had no more life in her than if she were water-logged.
The log was hove several times; but she was doing her best. We had hardly
patience with her, but the older sailors said - "Stand by! you`ll see her work
herself loose in a week or two, and then she`ll walk up to Cape Horn like a
race-horse."
When all sail had been set, and the decks cleared up, the California was
a speck in the horizon, and the coast lay like a low cloud along the north -
east. At sunset they were both out of sight, and we were once more upon the
ocean where sky and water meet.
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