Chapter XVII. ADRIFT IN NEW YORK
When the ship Lady Madison arrived in New York there was quite a stir among the mercantile community. Congress was engaged in important deliberations, and it was whispered, that in secret session, an embargo was about to be laid on American vessels in every port in the United States as a preparatory step to a declaration of war against Great Britain.
The passage of an "embargo act" was generally expected; but many persons, who had full faith in the more than Christian patience and forbearance of our government, believed there would be no war, notwithstanding the insults heaped upon American citizens, the piratical aggressions on our commerce, and the contumely and contempt in which our government and our flag, during a series of years, had been everywhere held by British authorities, as shown in the capture of the Chesapeake, and a multitude of kindred acts, each of which, as a knowledge of them travelled through the land, should have produced the effect of a "fiery cross," and kindled into a fierce and living flame every spark of patriotism existing in the bosoms of our countrymen.
There was great commotion on the wharves. "The embargo is coming," said one excited individual. "The act is already passed!" said another. Merchants were busy fitting away their ships to every quarter of the globe; the piers and wharves were lumbered with goods and produce of every description; the work was busily carried on night and day; fabulous prices were paid to laborers; in many cases the cargoes were thrown on board, tumbled into the hold, or piled on the decks, and the ship was "cleared" at the custom house, got under weigh, and anchored in the offing, where, beyond the jurisdiction of the United states, her stores and what remained of her cargo were SMUGGLED on board at leisure.
On reaching New York I again found myself in a strange city, without money or friends. I went with Giddings and some of his shipmates to a sailor boarding house in Dover Street, kept by a German named Hansen. At the recommendation of Giddings, the landlord received me, although with reluctance, as I had no visible means of paying for my board. Giddings and his friends shipped the following day for another voyage in the Lady Madison, which ship left the harbor for Liverpool on the evening previous to the reception of the news of the passage of the "embargo act," which, by some mysterious influence, had been strangely delayed. The Lady Madison remained at anchor, for at least a fortnight, nine or ten miles outside of Sandy Hook, when, having taken on board those portions of her cargo THAT HAD BEEN FORGOTTEN, SHE PROCEEDED ON HER VOYAGE.
My condition at this time furnished a striking contrast with my condition when I left Boston not five months before. Disappointment had laid on my spirits a heavy hand, and there were no particularly cheering scenes in perspective. I would gladly have returned to my home, there to have recovered the full use of my fractured limb before I embarked on any new enterprise. But I had no means of getting from New York to Boston, and through a feeling of pride, far from commendable, I was unwilling to make application to my relatives for pecuniary assistance. I did not even write to inform them of my return to the United States.
The question now came up, "What shall I do to improve my condition and gain a livelihood?" Lame as I was, I dared not undertake to ship in a square-rigged vessel, or even a "topsail schooner," where it might often be necessary to go aloft. I tried to get a berth in a coaster, or small vessel trading to the West Indies, where gymnastic feats would not be required. I applied to many skippers but without success. Even the proud captain of a rusty-looking old craft, that could hardly be kept afloat in the harbor, looked sour and sulky, and shook his head with as much significance as Lord Burleigh himself, when I inquired if he was in want of a hand! Either my looks were unpromising, or this class of vessels were well supplied with men. In the mean time my board bill was running up, and my landlord looked as grave as an oyster, and his manners were as rough as the outside of the shell.
Passing through Maiden Lane one day, I saw a gentleman whom I had formerly known, standing in the doorway of a bookstore. I had boarded in his family several weeks after my recovery from fever and ague. He, as well as his wife, at that time professed a strong interest in my prosperity. When I left them, and entered on my voyage to South America in the Clarissa, they bade me farewell with protestations of an affection as warm and enduring as if I had been a near and dear relative. It is therefore not wonderful that when I spied Mr. Robinson my heart yearned towards him. I had encountered a friend in that overgrown city; I saw a familiar face the first for many months. Without CALCULATING whether he could be of service to me, or whether it was proper to appear before him in apparel more remarkable for its antiquity and simplicity than its gentility, I obeyed the dictates of an honest heart, rushed towards him, and grasped his hand. Perceiving his astonishment, and that he was about to reprove my unauthorized familiarity, I mentioned my name.
"It is no wonder you don't recollect me," said I; "I have met with the rubbers, and must have greatly changed since you saw me last. Indeed, I am now rather hard up. Nothing to do, and not a cent in my pocket. It rejoices me to meet an old acquaintance."
The smile of recognition with which Robinson received the announcement of my name, vanished like a torch quenched in the ocean when he heard of my penniless condition. He nevertheless put a tolerably good face on the matter, invited me into his store, said he had lived in New York about nine months, asked me several commonplace questions, and at last, turning away as if he had more important business to attend to, desired me to drop in and see him occasionally.
Not dreaming that he would be otherwise than delighted to see me at his house, I bluntly asked him where he lived.
"O," said he, in a careless manner, "I LIVE away up in the Bowery, but my place of business is HERE; and when you have nothing better to do, give me a call, I shall always be glad to see you!"
And my cold-hearted, calculating friend, who feared I should make an appeal to his pockets, gave me quite a polite bow, and thus taught me a lesson in the fashionable accomplishment of bowing a troublesome acquaintance into the street!
A few days after this, as I was walking in Broadway, musing on my condition, and convinced of the truth of the saying that "there is no solitude so complete as in the midst of a great city," but firmly believing that something would soon "turn up," I saw on the sidewalk an elegant and costly breastpin, which must have belonged to a fashionable lady. I gladly seized the glittering prize and bore it away, exulting in my good fortune. Although I intended to spare no pains to find the owner, I trusted the incident might in some way contribute to my advantage. I showed the pin in triumph to the wife of my landlord, a shrewd woman, not over-scrupulous, and well skilled in the art of turning little events to her own profit, and explained the circumstances under which it came into my possession.
"This is indeed wonderful!" she exclaimed, holding up her hands. "How fortunate that you, of all persons, should have found this costly ornament! It belongs to Mrs. Johnson, a dear friend of mine, who lives just over the way! It must be it is the same. I know it. I have seen it a thousand times. She was here not five minutes ago, lamenting the loss of it. How overjoyed she will be when she knows it is found! I will send to her directly, and make her happy with the news."
Mrs. Hansen disappeared, leaving me, I am afraid, looking rather confounded at this singular and unexpected COINCIDENCE, and almost sorry that the owner of the pin had been so easily discovered. In a few minutes Mrs. Hansen returned, accompanied by "her dear friend," Mrs. Johnson, who, after examining the pin, said it was her own. She thanked me for having found it, was in raptures with her good fortune, declared she should never forget she was indebted to me, then in a business-like manner placed the rich ornament on her bosom, where it seemed as much out of place "as a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear," and hastily walked off with the prize before I could recover from my astonishment! I was a stranger to the ways of the world, and it did not occur to me, until years afterwards, that this was an IMPROMPTU comedy, ingeniously devised and skilfully performed by two capital actresses, for the purpose of swindling me out of the jewel!
A day or two after the adventure of the breastpin, my landlord represented to me, with much gravity, that I had been living with him above a fortnight, had not paid a cent towards my board, and, so far as he could see, there was no prospect that I ever would pay any. This state of things, I must be sensible, could not last forever.
I told him, in reply, that I was every day becoming more able to do a seaman's duty' that, as he well knew, I had tried to find a berth in a coaster, but none was to be had; that I was confident I should at some future time pay him, principal and interest, for all his expense and trouble, and he might rely on my promise.
Hansen rejoined, with a derisive smile, that it was not his custom to give credit, or rely upon promises; that I must find something to do, or he should be compelled to turn me out of his house! "Did you ever do any thing but go to sea?" he asked abruptly.
"O, yes," said I, "I was brought up on a farm, and understand all kinds of farming work."
"If that's the case," continued he, "your business is done. There are fine farms in Brooklyn, within sight of the ferry. All our best vegetables and fruit are raised on those farms. It is now the spring of the year, when farm laborers are wanted. You had better go over to Brooklyn and find work on a farm."
"That I'll do with pleasure," said I; "but I have no money to pay my fare over the ferry."
"Never mind, I'll lend you a couple of sixpences, and charge them in your account. You had better go tomorrow, and take the whole day before you." Accordingly on the following day I started for Long Island in quest of work as a day laborer on a farm.
At that time Brooklyn was not, as now, a large, populous, and thriving city. It was a small, sparsely-settled village; and the vast extent of land which is now laid out in streets and squares, and covered with costly edifices, was then improved for gardens, orchards, and farms. I landed from the ferry boat and took my way along the public highway which led towards the interior of the island. The rural aspect of a cultivated country, after having my view confined for many months to salt water and the unseemly masses of brick and mortar called cities, gladdened my heart; and I determined, in a spirit of true philosophy, to give vain cares and regrets to the wind, and pass one pleasant day in rambling about that agricultural district.
My efforts to obtain employment were not attended with success. My sailor costume, my pale features, and my constitutional diffidence, which has always been a drag in my efforts to press forward in the world, served me not as a letter of recommendation among the shrewd and money-making farmers and gardeners of Long Island. Indeed, to my mortification, I found that a blue jacket and loose trousers, when worn by a weather-beaten or bronzed-visaged wayfarer, were looked upon as PRIMA FACIE evidence that "he was no better than he should be." One of the farmers to whom I applied, after questioning me about my ability to work on a farm, came to the conclusion that he did not require any additional help; another wanted a hand, but I was not stout enough for his purpose; a third expressed a belief that I was an impostor, and knew nothing about farming work; and a fourth, after cross-questioning me until I felt assured he was satisfied with my character and capacity, graciously informed me I might stay a week or so on trial, and if I worked well perhaps he would give me my board through the summer! My case was a desperate one, and I might have acceded to his proposal if he had not unguardedly added that I should have to sleep in a cockloft in the shed! And thus I wandered about that part of the island the whole day, and returned to my boarding house towards dark, fatigued, hungry, and unsuccessful. I told Hansen the result of my day's labor. He looked disappointed and angry.
"You did not try!" said he. "I don't believe you said one word for yourself. There is one more shilling gone for nothing. But you must pretty quick find something to do."
The next day, when I returned home after my daily jaunt around the wharves in search of employment, Hansen met me with a smile, and introduced me to Stephen Schmidt, a thickset Dutchman, with little gray eyes, and capacious cheeks, of a color which proved he was a dear lover of schnapps. Schmidt claimed to be a native of Hudson; his ancestors were Dutch, and Dutch was the sole language of his early days. He had been several years employed in the North River sloops, but for the last six months had been in a coaster. Wearied of this kind of life and afraid of impressment, as his English pronunciation was strongly tinctured with the gutturals of a genuine Knickerbocker, and British ships-of-war swarmed along our coast, he had made up his mind to return to his home on the banks of the Hudson, and try his hand at cultivating cabbages and manufacturing SAUER KRAUT! A man was wanted in his place on board the coasting vessel and Hansen had persuaded Schmidt to use his influence with the captain to procure me the enviable situation.
I cared not a rush what kind of vessel this coaster was, whether old or new, bound on a cruise to New Orleans or Baffin's Bay; nor did I care whether the captain was a gentleman or a clown; a worthy man or an ignorant bully. I was anxious to obtain the vacant situation, and feared that the captain, following the fashion of the Long Island farmers, would not like the cut of my jib. I learned, however, that the schooner was a comfortable vessel, about a hundred tons burden, called the Mary, belonging to Newbern in North Carolina. The name of the captain was Thompson. The schooner was taking in cargo for Newbern, and would soon be ready for sea. Towards evening I accompanied Schmidt to the wharf where the Mary lay, and went on board, my bosom agitated with hopes and fears. The captain was on deck, a sturdy, rough-looking man. Schmidt went boldly up to him. "Captain Thompson," said he, "this is the man I spoke to you about this morning to take my place."
"This the man?" said the captain, abruptly. "Why, this is a boy! He's lame, too, and looks sickly. He will never do for me!"
It was time for me to speak; and I made a bold effort to overcome my diffidence. "Sir," said I, "a few months ago I had the misfortune to break my leg in Liverpool, and was sent home by the American consul. The limb is nearly well; but I don't feel able to ship in a square-rigged vessel. But, sir, I am in good health; I want employment; I can do as good a day's work as any man on board your schooner. You will find me active, industrious, and faithful. You may rely on it, sir, you will never have cause to repent giving me the berth."
Captain Thompson eyed me sharply a few moments without saying a word. After he had completed the examination of my person, he mildly inquired, "How much wages do you expect?"
"Whatever you may think I am worth, sir," said I. "I owe my landlord for three weeks board; but he will have to trust me for a part of it until I come back to New York. I am but poorly off for clothes, but that is of no consequence; summer is coming."
"You seem to be in a tight place, young man," said the kind-hearted captain. "Come on board with your rattletraps tomorrow. I'll soon find out what you are made of."
I returned home with a light heart, and rejoiced Hansen with the intelligence that I had become one of the crew of the Mary. I promised him every cent of my advance wages. With this he was obliged to be content, but declared his intention to keep my chest, my books, and other articles of trifling value, as security for the remainder of my board. To this I made no objection, thinking it reasonable enough. But Captain Thompson, the next day, when I received my half month's pay in advance, and informed him of my arrangements, called me a fool, and inveighed in bitter terms against the whole race of sailor landlords.
I took nothing with me on board the Mary but a change of clothing and a few articles of trifling value, packed in an old pillow case, loaned me by my landlady, with strict injunctions to return it if I ever came back to New York. I was overjoyed to think I had found employment, and could gain a subsistence by my own labors. I was sure of a home for a few weeks, until I should recover from the effects of my mishap, when I hoped to be above the necessity of asking favors.
The mate, whose name was Pierce, received me in a surly manner. He evidently thought Captain Thompson did a foolish act in shipping such "a useless piece of lumber" as myself. The crew, however, gave me a hearty reception, which placed me at my ease. I found the crew to consist of two young men, not much older than myself, and a negro boy. The two men were swarthy sons of North Carolina, born near Cape Hatteras; good-hearted, ignorant, lazy, careless fellows, who liked good living and clear comfort better than hard work. The cook was of the genuine African type; and when not employed in serious work about the camboose, was throwing off the exuberance of his good humor in peals of laughter. Taken together, they were a set of jolly fellows, and I rejoiced that my lot was cast among them. My spirits, which had been below zero for some time, in spite of my philosophy, took a sudden rise immediately, notwithstanding the sullen humor of the mate, who, like Cassius, had "a lean and hungry look," and never even indulged in a smile. He manifested a singular antipathy towards me in all his acts.
Some animals seem to have a bitter hatred against those of their own kind which are the victims of accident or misfortune. A wolf, wounded by hunters, is torn in pieces by the pack; and a porpoise, if struck and mangled by a harpoon, is pursued by the whole shoal, and put to death without mercy. We sometimes find human beings possessed of such savage attributes. They pay court to wealth and power, but when they find a fellow-being stricken to the earth by misfortune or sickness, imbibe a prejudice against him, and instead of stretching forth a kind and open hand to relieve, will be more likely to shake a clinched fist in his face.