HE GETS TO SEA AND FEELS VERY BAD
Every thing at last being in readiness, the pilot came on board, and all
hands were called to up anchor. While I worked at my bar, I could not
help observing how haggard the men looked, and how much they suffered
from this violent exercise, after the terrific dissipation in which they
had been indulging ashore. But I soon learnt that sailors breathe
nothing about such things, but strive their best to appear all alive and
hearty, though it comes very hard for many of them.
The anchor being secured, a steam tug-boat with a strong name, the
Hercules, took hold of us; and away we went past the long line of
shipping, and wharves, and warehouses; and rounded the green south point
of the island where the Battery is, and passed Governor's Island, and
pointed right out for the Narrows.
My heart was like lead, and I felt bad enough, Heaven knows; but then,
there was plenty of work to be done, which kept my thoughts from
becoming too much for me.
And I tried to think all the time, that I was going to England, and
that, before many months, I should have actually been there and home
again, telling my adventures to my brothers and sisters; and with what
delight they would listen, and how they would look up to me then, and
reverence my sayings; and how that even my elder brother would be forced
to treat me with great consideration, as having crossed the Atlantic
Ocean, which he had never done, and there was no probability he ever
would.
With such thoughts as these I endeavored to shake off my heavy-
heartedness; but it would not do at all; for this was only the first day
of the voyage, and many weeks, nay, several whole months must elapse
before the voyage was ended; and who could tell what might happen to
me; for when I looked up at the high, giddy masts, and thought how
often I must be going up and down them, I thought sure enough that some
luckless day or other, I would certainly fall overboard and be drowned.
And then, I thought of lying down at the bottom of the sea, stark alone,
with the great waves rolling over me, and no one in the wide world
knowing that I was there. And I thought how much better and sweeter it
must be, to be buried under the pleasant hedge that bounded the sunny
south side of our village grave-yard, where every Sunday I had used to
walk after church in the afternoon; and I almost wished I was there now;
yes, dead and buried in that churchyard. All the time my eyes were
filled with tears, and I kept holding my breath, to choke down the sobs,
for indeed I could not help feeling as I did, and no doubt any boy in
the world would have felt just as I did then.
As the steamer carried us further and further down the bay, and we
passed ships lying at anchor, with men gazing at us and waving their
hats; and small boats with ladies in them waving their handkerchiefs;
and passed the green shore of Staten Island, and caught sight of so many
beautiful cottages all overrun with vines, and planted on the beautiful
fresh mossy hill-sides; oh! then I would have given any thing if instead
of sailing out of the bay, we were only coming into it; if we had
crossed the ocean and returned, gone over and come back; and my heart
leaped up in me like something alive when I thought of really entering
that bay at the end of the voyage. But that was so far distant, that it
seemed it could never be. No, never, never more would I see New York
again.
And what shocked me more than any thing else, was to hear some of the
sailors, while they were at work coiling away the hawsers, talking about
the boarding-houses they were going to, when they came back; and how
that some friends of theirs had promised to be on the wharf when the
ship returned, to take them and their chests right up to Franklin-square
where they lived; and how that they would have a good dinner ready, and
plenty of cigars and spirits out on the balcony. I say this land of
talking shocked me, for they did not seem to consider, as I did, that
before any thing like that could happen, we must cross the great
Atlantic Ocean, cross over from America to Europe and back again, many
thousand miles of foaming ocean.
At that time I did not know what to make of these sailors; but this much
I thought, that when they were boys, they could never have gone to the
Sunday School; for they swore so, it made my ears tingle, and used words
that I never could hear without a dreadful loathing.
And are these the men, I thought to myself, that I must live with so
long? these the men I am to eat with, and sleep with all the time? And
besides, I now began to see, that they were not going to be very kind to
me; but I will tell all about that when the proper time comes.
Now you must not think, that because all these things were passing
through my mind, that I had nothing to do but sit still and think; no,
no, I was hard at work: for as long as the steamer had hold of us, we
were very busy coiling away ropes and cables, and putting the decks in
order; which were littered all over with odds and ends of things that
had to be put away.
At last we got as far as the Narrows, which every body knows is the
entrance to New York Harbor from sea; and it may well be called the
Narrows, for when you go in or out, it seems like going in or out of a
doorway; and when you go out of these Narrows on a long voyage like this
of mine, it seems like going out into the broad highway, where not a
soul is to be seen. For far away and away, stretches the great Atlantic
Ocean; and all you can see beyond it where the sky comes down to the
water. It looks lonely and desolate enough, and I could hardly believe,
as I gazed around me, that there could be any land beyond, or any place
like Europe or England or Liverpool in the great wide world. It seemed
too strange, and wonderful, and altogether incredible, that there could
really be cities and towns and villages and green fields and hedges and
farm-yards and orchards, away over that wide blank of sea, and away
beyond the place where the sky came down to the water. And to think of
steering right out among those waves, and leaving the bright land
behind, and the dark night coming on, too, seemed wild and foolhardy;
and I looked with a sort of fear at the sailors standing by me, who
could be so thoughtless at such a time. But then I remembered, how many
times my own father had said he had crossed the ocean; and I had never
dreamed of such a thing as doubting him; for I always thought him a
marvelous being, infinitely purer and greater than I was, who could not
by any possibility do wrong, or say an untruth. Yet now, how could I
credit it, that he, my own father, whom I so well remembered; had ever
sailed out of these Narrows, and sailed right through the sky and water
line, and gone to England, and France, Liverpool, and Marseilles. It was
too wonderful to believe.
Now, on the right hand side of the Narrows as you go out, the land is
quite high; and on the top of a fine cliff is a great castle or fort,
all in ruins, and with the trees growing round it. It was built by
Governor Tompkins in the time of the last war with England, but was
never used, I believe, and so they left it to decay. I had visited the
place once when we lived in New York, as long ago almost as I could
remember, with my father, and an uncle of mine, an old sea-captain, with
white hair, who used to sail to a place called Archangel in Russia, and
who used to tell me that he was with Captain Langsdorff, when Captain
Langsdorff crossed over by land from the sea of Okotsk in Asia to St.
Petersburgh, drawn by large dogs in a sled. I mention this of my uncle,
because he was the very first sea-captain I had ever seen, and his white
hair and fine handsome florid face made so strong an impression upon me,
that I have never forgotten him, though I only saw him during this one
visit of his to New York, for he was lost in the White Sea some years
after.
But I meant to speak about the fort. It was a beautiful place, as I
remembered it, and very wonderful and romantic, too, as it appeared to
me, when I went there with my uncle. On the side away from the water was
a green grove of trees, very thick and shady; and through this grove, in
a sort of twilight you came to an arch in the wall of the fort, dark as
night; and going in, you groped about in long vaults, twisting and
turning on every side, till at last you caught a peep of green grass and
sunlight, and all at once came out in an open space in the middle of the
castle. And there you would see cows quietly grazing, or ruminating
under the shade of young trees, and perhaps a calf frisking about, and
trying to catch its own tail; and sheep clambering among the mossy
ruins, and cropping the little tufts of grass sprouting out of the sides
of the embrasures for cannon. And once I saw a black goat with a long
beard, and crumpled horns, standing with his forefeet lifted high up on
the topmost parapet, and looking to sea, as if he were watching for a
ship that was bringing over his cousin. I can see him even now, and
though I have changed since then, the black goat looks just the same as
ever; and so I suppose he would, if I live to be as old as Methusaleh,
and have as great a memory as he must have had. Yes, the fort was a
beautiful, quiet, charming spot. I should like to build a little cottage
in the middle of it, and live there all my life. It was noon-day when I
was there, in the month of June, and there was little wind to stir the
trees, and every thing looked as if it was waiting for something, and
the sky overhead was blue as my mother's eye, and I was so glad and
happy then. But I must not think of those delightful days, before my
father became a bankrupt, and died, and we removed from the city; for
when I think of those days, something rises up in my throat and almost
strangles me.
Now, as we sailed through the Narrows, I caught sight of that beautiful
fort on the cliff, and could not help contrasting my situation now, with
what it was when with my father and uncle I went there so long ago. Then
I never thought of working for my living, and never knew that there were
hard hearts in the world; and knew so little of money, that when I
bought a stick of candy, and laid down a sixpence, I thought the
confectioner returned five cents, only that I might have money to buy
something else, and not because the pennies were my change, and
therefore mine by good rights. How different my idea of money now!
Then I was a schoolboy, and thought of going to college in time; and had
vague thoughts of becoming a great orator like Patrick Henry, whose
speeches I used to speak on the stage; but now, I was a poor friendless
boy, far away from my home, and voluntarily in the way of becoming a
miserable sailor for life. And what made it more bitter to me, was to
think of how well off were my cousins, who were happy and rich, and
lived at home with my uncles and aunts, with no thought of going to sea
for a living. I tried to think that it was all a dream, that I was not
where I was, not on board of a ship, but that I was at home again in the
city, with my father alive, and my mother bright and happy as she used
to be. But it would not do. I was indeed where I was, and here was the
ship, and there was the fort. So, after casting a last look at some boys
who were standing on the parapet, gazing off to sea, I turned away
heavily, and resolved not to look at the land any more.
About sunset we got fairly "outside," and well may it so be called; for
I felt thrust out of the world. Then the breeze began to blow, and the
sails were loosed, and hoisted; and after a while, the steamboat left
us, and for the first time I felt the ship roll, a strange feeling
enough, as if it were a great barrel in the water. Shortly after, I
observed a swift little schooner running across our bows, and
re-crossing again and again; and while I was wondering what she could
be, she suddenly lowered her sails, and two men took hold of a little
boat on her deck, and launched it overboard as if it had been a chip.
Then I noticed that our pilot, a red-faced man in a rough blue coat, who
to my astonishment had all this time been giving orders instead of the
captain, began to button up his coat to the throat, like a prudent
person about leaving a house at night in a lonely square, to go home;
and he left the giving orders to the chief mate, and stood apart talking
with the captain, and put his hand into his pocket, and gave him some
newspapers.
And in a few minutes, when we had stopped our headway, and allowed the
little boat to come alongside, he shook hands with the captain and
officers and bade them good-by, without saying a syllable of farewell to
me and the sailors; and so he went laughing over the side, and got into
the boat, and they pulled him off to the schooner, and then the schooner
made sail and glided under our stern, her men standing up and waving
their hats, and cheering; and that was the last we saw of America.