The Insincerity of Flattery.—“What little, ugly-looking, red-headed monster is that, playing among those children?” “That, madam, is my eldest son!” “Indeed! you don’t say so; what a beautiful little cherub it is!”
The Travels, Adventures and Experiences of Thomas Trotter.
CHAPTER I.
My Birth and Parentage.—The reasons why I became a Traveller.—My first Travels.—Advantage of having good legs.—My first Voyage to the Mediterranean.—The Orange and Lemon Trade.—The Gulf Stream.—Whales.—Portuguese Man-of-War.
Ever since my earliest remembrance I have had a great passion for travelling, seeing foreign countries, and studying foreign manners. I believe this disposition runs in our family, for all the Trotters, I am assured, have been great travellers. My great grandfather, Absalom Trotter, was famous for having the longest legs in the state of Massachusetts, and for making the best use of them. He could beat a horse at a stretch of a month or so; but he died just as the Providence railroad was completed. My great aunt, Peggy Trotter, was also celebrated among her neighbors for an unconquerable propensity to move about. There was not a story circulating in the town, but she was the first to find it out, and the most industrious in communicating it to all her acquaintance. If she had lived till this day, I verily believe the newspaper editors would have hired her to carry expresses; for when she once got hold of a piece of intelligence, it is inconceivable how rapidly she made it fly through all quarters of the town. When she died, people were afraid that news would be scarce forever afterwards; but steamboats came into fashion about that time, so that we have not been without a supply of intelligence from various parts.
I was born in Fleet street, down at the north end, in Boston. My father was a West-India captain, who used to sail in a little schooner from Boston to Guadaloupe. He commonly carried out a load of lumber, that is, pine boards, plank, timber, and shingles; and brought back a cargo of molasses. Every time he returned from a voyage, he brought us oranges, lemons, and pine-apples, fruits which do not grow hereabouts. These rarities always excited my admiration; and I was delighted to sit in the chimney-corner during the long winter evenings, and listen to his description of the West-India islands, where the summer and the fruits and the green fields last the whole year round; and where no snow or ice chills the air, but fresh verdure and bright flowers enliven the landscape from the beginning of the year to the end of it.
The more of these stories I heard, the more I wanted to hear, for it is notorious that there is no passion so insatiable as curiosity. And when our curiosity is directed towards a useful object, the indulgence of it becomes both proper and beneficial. The world is filled with variety, and this variety is evidently designed by Providence to stimulate our curiosity, so that we may be incited to action and the pursuit of knowledge. In this way I became seized with an irresistible inclination to travel and see the world. My neighbor Timothy Doolittle, who had nobody to tell him stories when he was a boy, on the contrary, never cared to move about, or know how the rest of the world lived, or what was doing out of his own chimney-corner. I believe he never in his life walked further than Roxbury Neck; and if anybody should ask him how big the world was, he would say it extended from Bunker Hill to Brookline! Such magnificent notions of the universe will a man have who never stirs abroad.
I could give a long account of my early travels—how they began in very infancy when I first ventured out the front door—how I next rambled down the street, and was amazed to see how large the town was—how I then grew more courageous, and journeyed as far as Faneuil Hall Market; what surprising discoveries I made there; what perilous adventures I met with on the way thither and back—how I next made a still bolder excursion as far as Fort Hill, got overtaken by night, and was brought back by the town crier—how, finally, after a great many hair-breadth escapes and daring exploits, I became so experienced in travelling that I ventured into the country to see what sort of people lived there; and how in a single day I penetrated as far as the Blue Hills, and found the inhabitants of Milton and Dorchester an exceedingly civil, pleasant and good sort of people. I might give the particulars of all these peregrinations at full length, if I had room in these pages. But as it is very probable that most of my readers have travelled the same route and seen pretty much the same things, I have concluded to omit them for the present, and pass on to the narrative of my travels and adventures in foreign countries, which will probably offer more novelty and instruction.
My father died when I was ten years old; and as my mother had been dead several years before, I was left to the care of my aunt Katy Walker. I had little chance of gratifying my roving inclination under her care, for she could not afford me any money, and travelling is expensive. The most I could do was to take long walks now and then, with a staff in my hand, and a pack over my back. In this way I have travelled over nearly all the state of Massachusetts; and can assure my readers, that they will learn more by travelling on foot in a single day than they will in a week by being whirled along in a railroad car. The main thing is to have good vigorous limbs; and a man’s legs will always grow strong if he walks enough. After trudging up and down for some years, a second cousin of mine, Captain Scudder, who used to visit at our house, came one day to tell me that he was about to make a voyage to the Mediterranean, to bring home a cargo of oranges and lemons for the Boston market. He offered to take me with him, and I gladly accepted the proposal. To visit Europe was the great object of my wishes; and the Mediterranean countries had the greatest of all possible attractions for me. I was never tired of thinking of the interesting territories which were situated upon that famous sea—their romantic shores—their beautiful islands—their bright sky—their charming climate—their magnificent cities—their picturesque inhabitants, and the multitude of glorious and ever-memorable historical events connected with them. All these thoughts threw me into a rapture, and my impatience to set out upon the voyage was such, that I deemed every moment lost, till I was on board, and the vessel was fairly under weigh.