VI. O'Bluster: a Seaman
A mate of a schooner, bespatter'd with tar,
Who had lately come in from Savanna-la-Mar,[F]
For, the sake of an airing had stept from his deck
And ventur'd a jaunt, at the risque of his neck,
His name and his nation no soul could mistake.—
He was Bryan O'Bluster, and much of a rake;
From morning till night he was still on the move,
Was always in taverns, or always in love:
His life was sustain'd by the virtues of grog,
And many long miles he had sail'd by the log.—
Of battles and storms he had known a full share,
And his face, it was plain, was the worse for the wear;
To see a mean fellow, lord how it would fret him;
And he hated a puppy, wherever he met him—
He was ready to bleed for the good of each State,
But since they had left the poor seamen to fate;
Themselves in the dumps, and their fair ones in tears,
And many brave fellows detain'd in Algiers!—
Had spirit sufficient to make themselves free,
But not to resent their affronts on the sea!
As this was the case—he must bid us good night,
And sail with a flag that would do itself right.
At cursing and swearing he play'd a good hand,
But never was easy a minute on land;
If the wind was a-head, or his Kitty untrue,
Why, patience was all the relief that he knew:—
In the midst of misfortune he still was serene,
And Kitty, he said, was a feeble machine:
His heart was too hard for a lady to sigh,
Yet I guess'd him a rogue by the leer in his eye:
"The world (he would say) is a whimsical dance—
And reason had taught him to leave it to chance.
In chace of dame Fortune his prime he had pass'd,
And now was beginning to fail very fast,
But thought it was folly his heart to perplex,
As Fortune was just like the rest of her sex;—
Designing, and fickle, and taken with show,
Now fond of a monkey, and now of a beau:—
Yet, still, as the goddess was made up of whim,
He meant to pursue 'till she smil'd upon him."
And tho' he was always deceiv'd in the chace,
He smooth'd up his whiskers, and wore a bold face.
On horseback he first had attempted to go,
But the horse was no fool, and had give him a throw;
He fell in a pond, and with not a dry rag on
The horse brought him back to the sign of the waggon,
Where three times he call'd for a dram of their best,
And three times the virtues of brandy confess'd;
Then took some tobacco, and soberly said,
"De'il take such a vessel; she's all by the head,
Broach'd to on a sudden, and then, d'ye see,
Myself and the saddle went over the lee."
His head was so full of his ragged command
He could scarcely believe he was yet on dry land;
He would rise in his sleep; call the watch up at four,
Ask the man at the helm how the Eddystone bore;
Then, rubbing his eyes, bawl out, "By my soul,
"We are bearing right down on the Hatteras shoal;
"The devil may trust to such pilots as you:
"We are close on the breakers—the breakers—halloo!"
[F] A seaport town in the S. W. quarter of Jamaica.—Freneau's note, 1788 edition.
VII. Ezekiel: a Rhode-Island Lawyer
The sixth, and the last, that attended our journey,
Was a man of the law, a Rhode-Island attorney,
As cunning as Satan to argue or plead,
To break an entailment, or get himself fee'd
They call'd him Ezekiel—I cannot tell what—
Perhaps I forget it—perhaps I do not—
He had once been a parson, and studied at Yale,[G]
But took to the law, when his preaching grew stale;
In his system of thinking, not well understood,
I wander'd about, like a man in a wood;
From morning 'till night he was nothing but whim,
Not a man in the town held opinions, like him:
In regard to the vulgar, he argued that Law
Was better than preaching, to keep them in awe:
That the dread of a gallows had greater effect,
And a post or a pillory claim'd more respect
From a knave—and would sooner contribute to mend,
Than all the grave precepts that ever were penn'd.
[G] Yale College in New-Haven.—Freneau's note, 1788 edition.
VIII. The Chapter of Debates
Having pitch'd on our party, there rose a dispute
On the mode of conveyance—in waggon or boat?
For my part, said Snip, I was always afraid
Of sailors, and sloops and the shallopman's trade,
And the reason thereof I will candidly tell,
My grandmother, Mopsy, was drown'd in a well;
I therefore intreat you, and fervently pray
We may go with the waggons the Burlington way.
"Hold, master," the sailor replied in a fret,
"The devil's not ready to bait for you yet:
Even this way, you know, there is water to pass,
And twenty long miles we should sail with an ass;—
But, gentlemen all, will you take my advice?
Here's Albertson's[H] sloop; she's so new and so nice,
Her bottom so sleek, and her rigging so trim,
Not Bailey[H] or Hyde[H] can be mentioned with him;
In her cabbin and steerage is plenty of room,
And how clever she looks with her flying jib-boom,
A topsail aloft, that will stand by the wind,
And a yard rigg'd athwart, for a squaresail design'd.
"Odds fish! I would sooner some little delay
Than go, like a booby, the fresh-water way
Where your cream-colour'd captains ne'er swear a bad word,
And sail without compass or quadrant on board,
Catch catfish and sturgeons, but never a whale,
Nor balance a mizen, to fight with the gale:
But Albertson goes by the route of Cape May,
Salt-water, and sees the bold porpusses play:
Where the shore of the coast the proud ocean controuls
He travels, nor strikes on the Barnegat shoals."
"You tar-smelling monster! (Snipinda rejoin'd)
Your jargon has almost distracted my mind.
If Snip should be drownded, and lost in the sea,
You never once think what a loss it would be!
I should then be a widow, dejected and sad
And where would I find such another sweet lad!
And Doctor Sangrado a letter has wrote,
And how, in three weeks he will want a new coat."—
Snip's heart, at her answer, seem'd ready to break:
"Snipinda," said he, "I would live for your sake!
If I should be drownded, indeed, it is true,
It would be a bad journey for Sam and for you!"—
For fear they should hear him, Sam whisper'd, "In troth
I would give my new hat that the devil had both."
"If Snip should be drown'd," said the valiant O'Keef,
"Poor woman! already I guess at her grief—
However, for aught that a stranger can see,
There are dozens as brisk at the needle as he,
And, tho' it were hard that the sea-fish should tear him,
I'm fully convinc'd that his brethren can spare him:
"But were I to mention the very best way,
And the quickest to boot (for they go in a day)
I would sleep over night at the sign of the Queen,[I]
(Where the wine is so good, and the beds are so clean)
Then starting by day-break, and riding in state,
Arriving in Bristol—we breakfast at eight,
Then push on our way, with a rapid career,
With nothing to hinder, and nothing to fear,
Till Trenton, and Princeton, and Brunswick are pass'd,
And safe on the Hudson they drop us at last."
When the captain had finish'd, the Frenchman arose,
And smoothing his whiskers, and squaring his toes,
With a bend of his back, and a swing of his head
Thus expressing his wish, with a flourish, he said:
"Wherever pomatums are most in demand
That route has my vote, be it water or land:
Wherever I travel, through sun-shine or glooms,
May fortune direct me to powders and plumes!—
So, gentlemen, choose, I beseech you, that road
Where ladies prefer to be dress'd in the mode."
"Hold, varlet, be still"—said the Yankee attorney,
"Are you to decide on the route of our journey?
These run-about fellows, I cannot but hate 'em,
With their rings, and their ruffles, and rolls of pomatum:
But, gentlemen, (if I may venture to speak
In the stile I was wont when I dabbled in Greek,
When I blew on my trumpet, and call'd up my pack,
Who thought I was holy because I was black;
Or, if you allow me a moral to draw
From some words that were frequent with Doctor Magraw);—
"We all have in view to arrive at one town,
"Yet each one would find out a way of his own;
"What a pity it is that we cannot agree
"To march all together to Zion"—said he—
But, since I'm convinc'd that it cannot be so,
(For his journey resembles our journey below)
Like the sects in religion, I heartily pray
That each, as he pleases, may have his own way,
Let Snip, and the captain, adventure by land,
The sailor by sea—he can reef, steer, and hand;
Let the Frenchman set out in a gaudy balloon,
(He'll either be there, or be dead, very soon,)
For my own part, I'm fond of the Burlington boat,
But still, if you're willing, I'll put it to vote:
The hint was sufficient—he put it to vote,
And fate bade us go with the Burlington boat.
[H] Commanders of Philadelphia and New-York packets.—Ib.
[I] Indian Queen.—Freneau's note, 1788 edition.