Fortunately, drinking was not among my vices. I could get "fresh," as we call it, when in good company and excited by wit and mirth; but I never went to the length of being drunk; and, as I advanced in years, pride and cunning made me still more guarded. I perceived the immense advantage which sobriety gave me over a drunkard, and I failed not to profit by it.
Keeping constantly on deck, almost night and day, I attended to the course of the vessel and the sail she carried, never taking the trouble to consult the lieutenant, who was generally senseless in his cabin. We made Sambro' Lighthouse (which is at the entrance of Halifax harbour) in the evening, and one of the midshipmen, who was more than half drunk, declared himself well acquainted with the place, and his offer to pilot the vessel in was accepted. As I had never been there before, I could be of no use; but being extremely doubtful of the skill of our pilot, I watched his proceedings with some anxiety.
In half an hour we found ourselves on shore on Cornwallis Island, as I afterwards learned, and the sea made a fair breach over us. This sobered the lieutenant and his officers; and as the tide fell, we found ourselves high and dry. The vessel fell over on her side, and I walked on shore, determined to trust myself no more with such a set of beasts. Boats came down from the dockyard at daylight, and took me and some others who had followed my example, together with our luggage, to the flag-ship. After two days' hard labour, the vessel was got off, and brought into the harbour. The admiral was informed of the whole transaction, and one of the captains advised him to try the lieutenant by a court-martial, or, at least, to turn him out of the vessel, and send him home. Unfortunately, he would not follow this advice, but sent him to sea again, with despatches. It was known that all hands were drunk on quitting the port; and the vessel ran upon a reef of rocks called the Sisters, where she sank, and every soul perished. Her mast-heads were seen just above water the next morning.
The frigate I was to join, came into harbour soon after I reached Halifax. This I was sorry for, as I found myself in very good quarters. I had letters of introduction to the best families. The place is proverbial for hospitality; and the society of the young ladies, who are both virtuous and lovely, tended in some degree to reform and polish the rough and libertine manners which I had contracted in my career. I had many sweethearts; but they were more like Emily than Eugenia. I was a great flirt among them, and would willingly have spent more time in their company; but my fate or fortune was to be accomplished, and I went on board the frigate, where I presented my introductory letters to the nobleman who commanded her. I expected to have seen an effeminate young man, much too refined to learn his business; but I was mistaken. Lord Edward was a sailor every inch of him: he knew a ship from stem to stern, understood the characters of seamen, and gained their confidence. He was, besides, a good mechanic—a carpenter, rope-maker, sail-maker, and cooper. He could hand, reef, and steer, knot and splice; but he was no orator: he read little, and spoke less. He was a man of no show. He was good-tempered, honest, and unsophisticated, with a large proportion of common sense. He was good-humoured and free with his officers; though, if offended he was violent but soon calm again; nor could you ever perceive any assumption of consequence from his title of nobility. He was pleased with my expertness in practical seamanship; and before we left the harbour, I became a great favourite. This I took care to improve, as I liked him both for himself and his good qualities, independently of the advantages of being on good terms with the captain.
We were not allowed to remain long in this paradise of sailors, being ordered suddenly to Quebec. I ran round to say adieu to all my dear Arcadian friends. A tearful eye, a lock of hair, a hearty shake of a fair hand, were all the spoils with which I was loaded when I quitted the shore, and I cast many a longing, lingering look behind, as the ship glided out of the harbour; white handkerchiefs were waved from the beach, and many a silent prayer put up for our safe return from snowy bosoms and from aching hearts. I dispensed my usual quantum of vows of eternal love and fidelity before I left them, and my departure was marked in the calendar of Halifax as a black day, by at least seven or eight pairs of blue eyes.
We had not been long at sea before we spoke an Irish Guineaman from Belfast, loaded with emigrants for the United States: I think about seventeen families. These were contraband. Our captain had some twenty thousand acres on the island of St John's, or Prince Edward's, as it is now called, a grant to some of his ancestors, which had been bequeathed to him, and from which he had never received one shilling of rent, for the very best reason in the world, because there were no tenants to cultivate the soil. It occurred to our noble captain, that this was the very sort of cargo he wanted, and that these Irish people would make good clearers of his land, and improve his estate. He made the proposal to them, and as they saw no chance of getting to the United States, and provided they could procure nourishment for their families, it was a matter of indifference to them where they colonised, the proposal was accepted, and the captain obtained permission of the admiral to accompany them to the island, to see them housed and settled. Indeed, nothing could have been more advantageous for all parties; they increased the scanty population of our own colony, instead of adding to the number of our enemies. We sailed again from Halifax a few hours after we had obtained the sanction of the admiral, and, passing through the beautiful passage between Nova Scotia and the island of Cape Breton, known by the name of the Gut of Canso, we soon reached Prince Edward's Island.
We anchored in a small harbour near the estate, on which we found a man residing with his wife and family; this fellow called himself the steward, and from all I could see of him during our three weeks' stay, he appeared to me to be rascal enough for the stewardship of any nobleman's estate in England. The captain landed, and took me as his aide-de-camp. A bed was prepared for his lordship in the steward's house, but he preferred sleeping on clean hay in the barn. This noble lord was a man whose thoughts seldom gave much labour to his tongue; he always preferred hearing others to talking himself; and whoever was his companion, he must always be at the expense of the conversation. Nor was it by the usual mode of simple narrative, that his mind was completely impressed with the image intended to be presented to him; he required three different versions, or paraphrases, of the same story or observation, and to these he had three different expletives or ejaculations. These were hum! eh! and ah! The first denoted attention; the second, part comprehension; and the third, assent and entire approval; to mark which more distinctly, the last syllable was drawn out to an immoderate length, and accompanied by a sort of half laugh.
I shall give one instance of our colloquial pastime. His lordship, after we had each taken up our quarters for the night, on the soft dry hay, thus began:
"I say,"—a pause.
"My lord?"