Chapter XVIII. SCHOONER MARY OF NEWBERN
We cast loose from the wharf the following day, about the 20th of April, 1812, and proceeded down the harbor. But the wind coming from the eastward, we anchored above the Narrows. I was soon convinced that Captain Thompson was no driver. Although originally a Massachusetts man, he had lived long enough in southern climates to acquire indolent habits. When the wind was ahead, if on anchorage ground, he would let go an anchor, rather than take the trouble of beating to windward for what he considered the trifling object of saving a day or two in the passage! "Have patience and the wind will change," was his motto. He was not the only shipmaster I have met with who was in the habit of looking after his own comfort as well as the interest of his employer.
The wind was favorable the next day, and we glided past Sandy Hook and entered on the broad ocean. Away we went to the southward with the wind abeam, blowing a strong breeze from the westward. The captain took the helm, and all hands were employed in clearing the decks and putting things in order; Mr. Pierce being particularly active in the work, saying but little, and looking unusually solemn.
I was on the weather side of the main deck, securing the lashings of the long-boat, when I heard a splash in the water to leeward; at the same moment the cook shouted out, with all the power of his African lungs, "Goramity! Mr. Pierce is fell overboard!"
"The mate is overboard! The mate is overboard!" was now the cry from every mouth.
"Hard-a-lee!" screamed the skipper, and at the same instant executed the order himself by jamming the tiller hard down to leeward. "Haul the fore sheet to windward! Clear away the long-boat! Be handy, lads! We'll save the poor fellow yet."
And then the captain shouted to the unfortunate man, as he was seen not far off in the wake, "Be of good cheer! Keep your head up! No danger! We'll soon be alongside!"
I seized the cook's axe and cut away the lashings of the boat, and in a space of time incredibly brief, the boat was lifted from the chocks by main strength and launched over the side. We were about to shove off to the struggling mate, when Captain Thompson, who had not taken his eyes from the man after he had fallen overboard, and kept making signs and giving him words of encouragement, exclaimed, in a mournful tone, "Avast there with the boat! 'Tis no use. He's gone he's sunk, and out of sight. We shall never see him again! Poor fellow poor fellow! May the Lord have mercy on him!"
It appeared that Mr. Pierce had stepped on the lee gunwale for the purpose of grasping a rope that was loose. His left hand was on one of the main shrouds, when a sudden lurch disengaged his grasp and precipitated him into the water. He was not a hundred yards from the schooner when he disappeared. Whether his body struck against the side of the vessel as he fell and he was thus deprived of the full use of his limbs, whether he was panic-struck at the fate which appeared to await him, or unable to swim, we could never learn. The simple, solemn fact, however, was before us in all its terrible significance. The man who, a few moments before, stood on the deck of the Schooner Mary, strong, healthy, and in the meridian of life, was no longer with us. He was removed without warning; buried in the depths of the ocean; cut off by some mysterious agency, "And sent to his account With all his imperfections on his head."
Soon after this sad accident, when we had taken in the long-boat, trimmed the sails, and were pursuing our way towards Cape Hatteras, the captain, with a solemn look, called me to the helm and went into the cabin, where he undoubtedly found consolation in the embrace of an intimate but treacherous friend. Indeed, on his return to the deck, a few minutes afterwards, I had olfactory demonstration that he and the brandy bottle had been in close communion! Captain Thompson had hardly spoken to me since we left the wharf in New York. He had now got his "talking tacks" on board, and was sociable enough.
"Hawser," said he, with a sigh, "this is a serious and sad thing, this death of poor Pierce. It might be your fate or mine at any time as easily as his. He was just from Liverpool, having been shipwrecked on the English coast, and on his way home to Washington, expecting to see his wife and children in a few days. Poor fellow! This will be a terrible blow to his family and friends. His fate, so sudden, is enough to make any man who IS a man, think seriously of his 'better end' of what may become of him hereafter!" He clinched this remark, which he delivered with much energy, with an oath that almost made my hair stand on end, and struck me at the time as being singularly out of place in that connection.
With another deep-drawn sigh he dismissed the subject, and did not again allude to it. He spoke of the "embargo act," of various ingenious modes of evading it, and of the prospect of a war with England; and made some assertion in relation to proceedings in Congress, which, in a respectful manner, but to his great astonishment, I ventured to dispute on the authority of a paragraph I had seen in a New York newspaper a few days before. The captain, after gravely staring me in the face a moment, as much as to say, "What do YOU know about newspapers or politics?" inquired the name of the newspaper I was talking about.
I mentioned the name of the paper. "Well," said he, "I have that paper, with others, in a bundle in the cabin so that matter can be soon settled."
Down he went into the cabin, leaving me not a little alarmed at his conduct. Thinks I to myself, "Can he be offended because a vagabond like myself has dared to differ with him on a question of fact?"
He soon appeared on deck with a large bundle of newspapers, which he put into my hands, at the same time taking possession of the tiller. "There," said he, "find the newspaper you were speaking of and pick out the paragraph, IF YOU CAN."
From my earliest boyhood I had manifested a strong attachment for newspapers. It may have been that, not finding other means to gratify my thirst for reading, I read every newspaper that came in my way; and as I was blessed with a good memory, I always kept tolerably well posted in regard to the current news of the day. I opened the bundle and promptly singled out the newspaper in question, and pointing to a paragraph with my finger, said, "There, sir, you may see for yourself."
The captain seemed astonished. He did not take the paper from my hands. "My eyes," said he, "are not good; they are weak, and it troubles me to read. Let me hear YOU read it."
I read the paragraph accordingly. The captain, meanwhile, fixed his eyes, which exhibited no signs of weakness, upon me with an earnest expression. When I finished reading, he nodded his head and mused a few moments in silence, then hastily surrendered the tiller, bundled up the newspapers, and vanished down the companion-way.
"What does this bode?" thought I to myself. "The man is evidently angry. I acted like a fool to question anything he said, however absurd." I did Captain Thompson injustice. He was not long absent, but soon came up the steps, bringing a sack-bottomed chair in one hand and a suspicious-looking pamphlet in the other. He placed the chair in front of the tiller.
"Hawser," said he, "sit down in that chair, and take this pamphlet, which is one of the most wonderful books that was ever laid before a wicked world. The author shows by figures, facts, and calculations that the world will be destroyed on the 12th of June. Good Lord! The time is close at hand. I have not read the book; my eyes trouble me too much besides, I have not had time. But I have heard much about it, and received orders, when I left Newbern for New York to bring back a dozen copies to enlighten the poor creatures on their fate. Sit right down, Hawser, I tell you, and go to work. I'll steer the schooner while you read."
I obeyed orders, as was my custom; and a curious picture we must have presented, the captain steering the schooner and listening with greedy ears to every word which fell from my lips, as, seated directly fronting him, my back supported by the binnacle, I read in a clear and distinct voice, and with due emphasis, the crude absurdities of a crack-brained religious enthusiast.
This "wonderful pamphlet" was written by a man named Cochran, a resident of Richmond, in Virginia, who, after poring over the Book of Revelation for years, convinced himself that he had obtained a clew to the mysteries contained in the writings of St. John.
After satisfying himself, as he said, beyond question of the correctness of his views, he published his pamphlet of some thirty or forty pages, notifying the public of the terrible fact that the day of judgment was at hand; and predicting the day, and suggesting the hour, when the world would come to an end! He even went so far as to describe the scene of destruction, when all the elements would be put in motion to destroy mankind, when volcanoes would deluge the land with liquid fire, and earthquakes shake and shatter the world to its centre!
Cochran claimed to PROVE all this by his interpretation of the Book of Revelation; by labored calculations based upon arithmetical principles, and algebraic formulae until then unknown, but which appeared mystical and appalling from the fact that they were incomprehensible. The book was written in a style well calculated to perplex, astonish, or terrify the readers, especially those who were not well stocked with intelligence. It is therefore not remarkable that it caused a commotion wherever it was circulated. The judgment day was the topic of discourse and persons of ungodly lives and conversation were led to think seriously of the error of their ways.
I read the pamphlet through, from title page to "finis," calculations, figures, and all; and no reader ever had a more attentive listener. Captain Thompson took the book in his hand after I had got through, and gazed upon it attentively.
"Well," said he, "this beats cock fighting! The man keeps a good log; works out his case like a sailing master; and proves it by alphabetic signs and logarithms, as clear as a problem in plain sailing. This is a great book; a tremendous book! I wish I had two hundred copies to distribute among the poor, ignorant heathens at Newbern and Portsmouth. Won't it make the folks stare like bewildered porpoises! Are you tired of reading, Hawser?"
"No, sir. I will read as long as you wish."
"Well, if that's the case, I'll bring up the Bible from the cabin, and you may wind up with one or two of the chapters in Revelation, which are referred to in the pamphlet."
The Bible was brought up, and I read to his great gratification until about six o'clock, when the supper hour put a stop to our literary and biblical pursuits. But the following day, the day after, every day, I had to read that doomsday pamphlet whenever it was my turn to take the helm, and frequently a chapter in the Bible besides.
One morning, as we were slowly moving along with a light breeze, on soundings between Cape Henry and Cape Hatteras, a large loggerhead turtle was seen a short distance to windward, motionless, and apparently asleep on the water. This caused quite a sensation; every man was on deck in a moment. The schooner was hove to, preparations were making to launch the boat, and the captain was loudly calling for his GIG, a species of three-pronged harpoon for striking small fish, when one of the crew, named Church, remonstrated against this mode of proceeding.
"Hold on, captain," said he, "or you will lose the lovely crittur. If you go near him in a boat he will open his peepers and vanish as suddenly as an evil spirit sprinkled with holy water But I know a trick to take him that cannot fail. Let me have my own way, and I'll catch that lazy, lubberly chap, and bring him alongside, man fashion, in no time!"
Church, while making this appeal, had been hastily divesting himself of his garments, and by the time he finished his remarks, stood, EN CUERPO, on the gunwale.
"Go ahead, my lad!" said the captain. "But if you let that turtle slip through your fingers, don't you ever come back to the schooner."
Church grinned, let himself gently into the water, and paddled away noiselessly and swiftly towards the unsuspicious reptile, who was lazily snoozing in midday, without dreaming of danger. The sailor approached him warily from behind; and when sufficiently near, grabbed the astonished animal by the stern flippers, and exclaimed, "Hurrah, the day's our own, boys! Captain, I've got a prize. Run up the stripes and stars. Turtle steaks forever! Victory, hurrah!"
The turtle, although taken at disadvantage, did not at once "give up the ship." He struggled manfully for that liberty which is the birthright of every living creature, and made a desperate attempt to go down, knowing intuitively that his captor would not dare follow him to the depths below. But whenever he attempted to dive, Church threw the whole weight of his body on the stern flippers, and thus prevented him from executing that maneuver. After being foiled in this manner two or three times his turtleship seemed disposed to abandon this mode of proceeding, and tried to paddle off with his forward flippers, as if to escape from the incumbrance. Church was now in his glory. By PULLING one hind flipper and PUSHING the other he could guide the reptile in whatever direction he pleased, and soon navigated him alongside the schooner, when a rope was hospitably put around the neck of the captive, and he was hauled on board.
Passing around Cape Hatteras, between the outer shoals and the land, we arrived at Ocracoke Inlet. The wind being ahead, we were unable to cross the bar, but remained two or three days at anchor in its immediate vicinity. Ocracoke Inlet is the main entrance into Pamlico Sound, a large inlet or body of water, some eighty miles long, separated from the sea by low sandy islands, mostly inhabited. On this Sound are situated some thriving towns, and into it the rivers Tar and Neuse empty their waters. The little town or village of Portsmouth is situated on an island in the immediate vicinity of Ocracoke Inlet. The inhabitants, or those who at that time deigned to pursue any regular occupation, were for the most part engaged in fishing and piloting. The sand banks, shoals, and flats in that neighborhood furnish admirable facilities for seine fisheries, and enormous quantities of mullets were taken every year on those sandy shores, packed in barrels, and sent to the West Indies.
There was also at that time carried on with considerable success, a porpoise fishery, after a fashion peculiar, I believe, to that part of the world. Porpoises often made their appearance very near the coast, in shoals not "schools," for porpoises are uneducated some hundreds in number. They were surrounded by boats and driven into shallow water. When sufficiently near the land, a strong seine was cautiously drawn around them and they were slowly but surely dragged to the beach; the blubber was stripped from their carcasses and converted into oil. Sometimes a shark was found in their company, who, disdaining to be so easily subdued, performed wondrous feats of strength and ferocity, biting and maiming the inoffensive porpoises without mercy, and in most cases rending the seine by his enormous power, and escaping from his persecutors.
When lying at Ocracoke, waiting for a chance over "the Swash," the crew of the Mary having little to do, were generally engaged in looking after their physical comforts by laying in a stock of shell-fish. Oysters were found in abundance all along shore, and of excellent quality; also the large clam known as the QUAHAUG, which when properly cooked and divested of its toughness is capital food; crabs, of delicate flavor and respectable size, were taken in hand-nets in any quantity; and flounders, mullets, and drum-fish were captured with little trouble. Ducks and teal, and other kinds of water fowl, abounded in the creeks and coves.
The staple articles of food on board the Mary consisted of corn meal, molasses, Carolina hams and middlings, with sweet lard and salt pork, in unstinted quantities. As a drink, instead of Oriental tea and West India or manufactured coffee, we were supplied with the decoction of an herb found in the woods or swamps of the Carolinas, and generally known as YAUPON TEA. It was at first insipid, if not unpalatable, but improved greatly on a more intimate acquaintance.
In the Mary we were stinted in nothing that could be readily procured; and having a cook who prided himself on his skill in manufacturing hoe-cakes, oyster fritters, clam chowders, turtle stews and the like, I am free to confess that so far as related to GOOD LIVING, I never passed three months more satisfactorily than while I was on board the Mary of Newbern. I often compared it with my wretched fare on board the Schooner John, or with my "short commons" in the Liverpool Infirmary, and the result was decidedly in favor of the North Carolina coaster.
The inhabitants of the district bordering on Ocracoke Inlet, as a body, were not remarkable for industrious habits, or sober and exemplary lives. Fishing and piloting, I have already said, constituted their chief business. Many, being too lazy to work, indulged themselves in lounging, drinking, betting, cock-fighting, and similar amusements. One redeeming virtue, however, they possessed, which is not always met with among the sedate, thrifty, and moral portion of mankind hospitality! They were frank, open-hearted, and compassionate; professed no virtues which they did not practise; would throw open their doors to the stranger, welcome him to their dwellings, and freely share their last dollar with a friend.
The news reached Portsmouth by the pilot boat that Captain Thompson had arrived from New York, and had brought the pamphlet which proclaimed the destruction of the world. The people took a deep interest in the subject. The men visited the schooner by scores; and as most of them were unable to read, through the infirmities of ignorance and "weak eyes," my literary powers were put in requisition, and again and again I was compelled to read aloud, for their edification, the conglomeration of absurdities which the prophet had put forth. They listened with attention; and it was amusing to hear their strange remarks and queer logic in favor of or against the prediction. The effect upon the minds of some of these children of the sandy isles was undoubtedly beneficial. It led them to think; it brought the Bible directly before them, and reminded them that whether the pamphlet was true or false a day of judgment was at hand.
The wind having changed, we crossed "the Swash," entered the Sound, and soon reached the mouth of the River Neuse. This is a stream of considerable importance, being four hundred miles in length, and draining a large tract of country. It is navigable for boats about one half that distance. An immense quantity of produce is brought down the river from the interior of the state and deposited at Newbern, whence it is shipped to different parts of the world.
Newbern is situated about forty or fifty miles from Pamlico sound, on the south-west bank of the Neuse, and at the junction of that river with the Trent. It was, in 1812, a pleasant and flourishing town, containing about three thousand inhabitants, who carried on a prosperous business to the West Indies, and who employed many vessels in the coasting trade.
On reaching Newbern the crew were discharged, the voyage being terminated. Captain Thompson told me that the schooner would be sent on another voyage without delay, and if I was willing to remain and take charge of her at the wharf, keep an account of the cargo as it was delivered and received on board, I should be allowed the same wages I had been receiving, eight or ten dollars a month. I accepted the proposition without hesitation. Indeed, the arrangement was to the advantage of both parties; he secured at a low rate of compensation the services of one who could perform the duties or shipkeeper and mate combined, and I was provided with an asylum, board, lodging, plenty of work, and pay into the bargain.