Walter Strale was of German descent; his parents, as we have seen, resided for a time in Virginia, and it was during this period that Walter was born. When he was about fourteen years of age, his father determined to remove to France, and establish a mercantile house in Paris. Mr. Strale, however, was unwilling to educate his son in that gay metropolis; and though by no means strict in matters of religion, he felt a deep solicitude that the morals of his child might be preserved. It was at one time his purpose to leave him in Virginia, among some highly valued and judicious friends; but as the means of education were very imperfect in that region, he wisely determined to send him to Boston, where he knew his studies would be carefully superintended, and his morals effectually guarded.
It was difficult, after all, to understand fully the motives of Mr. Strale, in sending his son to so rigid a school of morals. He was a high churchman, and had a thorough contempt for what he called the superstitions and austerities of the Puritans. It is probable the extremely volatile temper of Walter made it necessary to place him under careful restraints and a rigid discipline, and Mr. Strale, who was a man of excellent sense, perceiving the advantages of a New England education, was willing, for the sake of its fidelity, to overlook its seeming bigotry and austerity; for with all his contempt for the Puritan sect, he was ready to acknowledge, that on the score of integrity and good morals, no people on earth could rival them.
On the morning of the twenty-fourth of June, 1685, Walter embarked at James River, on board the Sea Gull, a beautiful schooner, under the command of Capt. Wing, who was a shrewd trader, as well as a skilful seaman, and had for some time past kept up a regular intercourse between Virginia and the New England colonies. He was of course well known to Mr. Strale, who was entirely satisfied in committing Walter to his care. Mrs. Strale was careful to furnish, her son with every convenience and luxury which maternal care could provide, and his father sent with him a negro servant, named Pompey, the most faithful of all his domestics, and who might in an important sense be called the steward of his house: he presided over sundry departments of domestic economy, and no one on the plantation was more jealous of his rights, or displayed in a higher degree, the pride and authority of station; yet Pompey professed to be a thorough democrat, and insisted that all men were born free and equal: he could never solve the problems and mathematics of slavery, yet as he required the strict obedience of those under his control, he thought it no more than right to be submissive, in his turn, to the mandates and discipline of his master.
Pompey's theory of universal liberty exposed him to much censure from his fellow slaves, for he was in fact a tyrant on as large a scale as circumstances would permit. Whenever he had a chance to exercise his love of power, Pompey assumed the kingly prerogative, and claimed for his opinions the supremacy of law; if any one questioned his authority, or chose to plead his natural rights, Pompey assured him that democracy always consulted the general good, and as power must reside somewhere, it was natural to suppose that he who possessed it knew best how and when it was proper to exercise it.
There was another circumstance which gave Pompey a little extra consequence: in consideration of his fidelity, he was assured that if he continued faithful till Master Walter was educated, he should then receive his freedom. This period was now approaching, and he thought it no harm to take a little of his future liberty in advance; but he often misjudged in regard to the extent of his privilege, and was of course subjected to some slight rebukes, which occasionally left marks on his person, not at all to his credit. If there was any thing to which Pompey had a mortal aversion, it was to the cane or the lash: not, as he said, that he minded the pain,—but they always disfigured a gentleman, and his freedom would not be worth having, if he carried on his person such tokens of his vassalage and debasement.
The first impressions of a sea life are uniformly disagreeable. The pleasant dreams which gather over the mind, in its views of distant countries, changing latitudes, and the thousand forms of beauty which flit through the air, or skim over the water, are dispelled by a single hour's experience, and perish at the first touches of reality. It was so with Strale. He had no proper notion of the unsettled life of a sailor: the splendid visions which hung over the future, were soon scattered by the fatal sea-sickness, and the retreating phantoms thronged around the scenes of home, and invested every locality with the same beauty which at first beckoned him away; but there was no hope of return: the fine southern breezes were wafting him to a strange land, of which he had few correct notions, and whose customs and habits, however repugnant to his feelings, must be adopted as his own.
For two days our little hero was struggling with all the demons of sea-sickness, homesickness, and the remembrances of past enjoyments; but his mind was too buoyant to continue long under this depression. On the third day he appeared on deck; and as the graceful schooner with fine breezes and under a cloud of canvass was gliding on her path, the bright and the beautiful again adorned the prospect, and restored the pleasures which had been so suddenly and rudely dispersed. He was now able to climb the mast, and take his post on its highest elevation. Walter was always on the look-out for adventure, and the novelties of the sea began to occupy his mind, and invest the objects around him with unwonted attractions. Moreover, Capt. Wing, like other seamen, was graphic in his descriptions of hair-breadth escapes, and was never at a loss for some real or invented tale of wonders. This was an unfailing source of amusement, and Walter listened to his narratives with enthusiasm and delight: he longed for some experience in the same school; he wished to be familiar with dangers, to conquer whatever element might oppose him, and to be in all respects the master of his own destiny.
'There is no character like that of a sailor, Walter,' said Capt. Wing, as they were sitting together near the companion-way, after dinner; 'he is a cook, a seamstress, a washwoman, a gentleman, a philosopher, and an astronomer.'
'You judge from your own crew,' said Walter, 'for you have trained them to all these different characters; but as to the mass of seamen, you might safely add, they are spendthrifts, drunkards, and fools.'