peter sails for gibralter with captain bainbridge—his character—horrible storm—henry falls from aloft and is killed—a funeral at sea—english lady prays—gibralter and the landing of soldiers—a frigate and four merchantmen—napoleon—wellington and lord nelson—a slave ship—her cargo—five hundred slaves—a wake of blood fifteen hundred miles—sharks eat ’em—amsterdam—winter there—captain b. winters in bristol—dutchmen—visit to an old battle field—stories about napoleon—peter falls overboard and is drowned, almost—make new york the fourth of july—peter lends five hundred dollars and loses it—sails to the west indies with captain thompson—returns to new york and winters with lady rylander—sails with captain williams for gibralter—fleet thirty-seven sail—cruise up the mediterranean—mt. etna—sails to liverpool—lord wellington and his troops—war between great britain and the united states—sails for new york and goes to sea no more—his own confessions of his character—dreadful wicked—sings a sailor song and winds up his yarn.
peter. “the next spring in the fore part of may, i saw captain bainbridge on the battery, and he hails me and says, ‘don’t you want a berth for a summer v’ge? i says, ‘yis sir,’ and then we bargains about wages; and i was to have twenty-five dollars a month, and he told me to go to the custom-house in the mornin’; and so i did, and several others he’d seen, and we all hired out, and he gin me a steward’s perquisites and twenty-five dollars a month. so we goes aboard his fine new ship jist built in new bedford, and ’twas one of the best i ever see; and she was to sail in a week on monday, and all on us agreed to be aboard, by ten o’clock; and by ten o’clock all on us was there to a man, and we received our orders, and they was mazin’ strict, for he was the strictest captain i ever sailed under, but a fine feller with all—sound, good hearted and a hail feller well met.
“we all hands stood on deck, and a sight of passengers, and we’d bid our wives and sweethearts all farewell, and at twelve o’clock, noon, we weighed anchor for gibralter. the pilot took us out to sea—she was a little steamboat, for only two or three years afore this, fulton got his steamboat invented on the hudson. well she left us ’bout three o’clock and bid us all ‘good bye;’ and a nice evenin’ breeze sprung up, and we spread all sail and cut the waves like any thing. and so ’bout midnight i goes on deck, and looked and looked ashore, but the shore of my country was hid, for we’d moved on so brisk, it had disappeared. we had a beautiful time till we’d sailed eight days; and one day afterwards the breeze grew stronger, and the moon shone and played over the waters, till it looked like silver; and such an evenin’ i hardly ever see be at sea.
“well next day, at one o’clock, a dark awful cloud riz up out of the northeast, and it got so the lightnin’ played along the edge of the cloud pretty briskly afore it covered the sun. the thunder rattled like great chariots over a great stone pavement. captain orders all hands to their posts, and begun to reef and make all fast, and cover the hatches, and prepare for a storm. finally the cloud covered the whole face of the heavens, and the captain says ‘attention all hands! now fellow sailors be brave, we’ve got a new ship and her riggin’ will slack some, and we don’t know how she’ll work; but stick to your posts, and by the help of god, we’ll weather the storm.’
“well the storm increased, and we kept a reefin’; for you see i used to be ’bout as much of a sailor as any on ’em, and in a storm there warn’t much to be cooked till ’twas over. and i quit the caboose, and was in the riggin’ and all round the sap works till it abated. while we was a takin’ a double reef on the main sail of the mizzen mast, there was a boy by the name of henry thomson, the captain’s boy, who went up aloft with an old sailor, to larn to take a reef-plat, and by misfortune, one of the foot-ropes gin way, and the little feller fell and struck on the quarter-deck railin’, and left part of his brains there, and his body went overboard; and we was agoin’ so fast, we couldn’t ’bout and get him, and we had to leave the poor feller to find companions in the deep. oh! he was a noble boy and i felt so arter it, that i always thought of this varse of an old sailor song.
‘days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away,
and still the vast waters above thee shall roll,
earth loses thy pattern, for ever and aye,
oh! sailor boy! sailor boy! peace to thy soul.’
“well we sailed on, and the storm increased till midnight; and oh! how the ocean did look! it seemed as though it was all a blaze of fire, and the ship couldn’t keep still one second. she pitched and tumbled about like a drunken man, and yit every thing held as strong as iron; and so ’bout one o’clock at night, the storm passed off ’bout as quick as it had come, and as soon as any light appeared in the heavens, the captain says, ‘cheer up boys! the storm is agoin’ over and all hands to bunk, only the watch.’
“in the mornin’ it was as clear and pleasant as clear could be, only the sea was dreadful rough; for you know it takes the sea a good while to git calm arter a storm; but we gits breakfast and she grows kind’a calmish, and then the captain comes on deck and tells one of the hands to go and git a canvass sack and sow it up, and put a stick in it, and a cannon ball at each end; and then he orders a plank lashed to the side of the ship, with one end slantin’ down to the water, and calls ‘all hands ‘tention,’ and then asks, ‘is there any body aboard that feels as though he could pray?’ and it was as still as death, and all looked at one another, and nobody answered; for you see in all that company of ’bout fifty, nobody could pray to his god. and all was awful, for i tell ye what ’tis domine, it’s a pretty creepy feelin’ gits hold on a body, if they knows that nobody round ’em can pray! ?
“but in the suspense there steps out an elderly english lady, and she said ‘let us pray! oh! thou who stillest the waves, &c.’ and so she went on and if she didn’t make the best prayer i ever heard afore or since, and she made a beautiful address to us, and she did talk enough to move the heart of a stone, and with tears in her eyes; and she reproved us for swearin’ so. and while she was a talkin’ and prayin’ so, there lay the like of that beautiful boy cold in death, and i tell ye it made us cry some and feel a good deal. well we made as though we put henry in that sack, and put him on the plank, and let him slide off into the ocean, and when he sunk it seemed as though my heart went into the sea arter him.
“well the spot where his brains lay there on the deck, stayed there as long as i stayed aboard that ship; and i used to stand there and watch it at evenin’, and cry and cry; and i guess if all the tears i shed had been catched, they’d a filled a quart cup; but i couldn’t help it, for he was a noble boy, and i loved him like a brother. but we sailed on and left henry behind us, and the thoughts on him sometimes checked our glee and sin, but only for a little while, and all on board soon forgot him, only me. but oh! how i did love that boy. ?
“well we made gibralter in thirty-six days from new york, and as we lowered sail and cast anchor under the old fort, they fired six cannon over our mast, and the english officer comes aboard, and three of his aids, and the ship and cargo and all her writings was examined, and findin’ all right side up, he gin us permission to come ashore and do business; and the governor bought our load of provisions for the navy sarvice, and we got an extra price ‘case ’twas scarce; and while we lay there, there was four english gun-ships of the line come in freighted with soldiers from plymouth, in england, and they was under the convoy of admiral emmons; and they left their soldiers and took some on the rock, and when they come in sight, if there warn’t some music and some smoke. all the instruments used in the english navy was played on the ships, and they fired gun arter gun, from the ships to the fort, and the fort to the ships, and every round they fired, they beat the english revelie, and oh! how them cannon shook the ship under us, and the smoke was so thick, you could fairly cut it; and so they kept it up, and i tell ye they had jolly times enough.
“next day they begun to land their recruits, rank and file by companies, and as one company from the ship marched up the rock to the top of the fort, another company from the rock would march down aboard the ship, and in this way we see a heap on ’em landed and shipped. and there stood the royal band all day in plain sight; and they was all colored folks, and they felt good tu, and every time they landed they’d fire a broadside from the fort, and shelter ’em with smoke; and every time a company of the fort’s soldiers come aboard the ship, they’d cover ’em with smoke; and put it all together, it was by all odds the handsomest sight i ever see in my travels.
“well, two days arter this, ’bout nine o’clock in the morning, the cannon begun to blaze away from the old fort agin’, and we concluded we was agoin’ to have some more doin’s, and i up on deck and looked and looked, and bim’by i see a large frigate comin’ up leadin’ four merchantmen with flying colors, and she blazed back agin’, and when she got into the harbor, the seventy-fours in port opened their mouths agin’, and so we had it pretty lively.
“these merchantmen were loaded with provisions for the navy; oh! what a heap of folks there was in that rock!! our captain says ‘boys, they’ve bought our cargo, but i don’t s’pose ‘twould make a mouthful apiece for ’em.’ and what an expensive establishment that english army and navy is!
“we stayed there at the rock a good while, and these merchant vessels went out under the protection of these navy ships, to victual the english fleet there; and we heard a good deal ’bout napoleon and lord wellington. they was all the talk, and wellington was all the toast; and their armies was a shakin’ the whole ‘arth, and ships and armies agoin’ and comin’ all the time; and there lord nelson, he was at the head of the english navy, and he was a great toast; and every day the papers would come and fetch stories of battles on land and at sea, till i was as sick on ’em as i could be. it seemed to be nothin’ but a story of blood all the time; and europe and all the ocean was only jist a great buryin’ and murderin’ ground; and, for my part, i never thought much of these ’ere great wholesale murderers, as i calls bonaparte, wellington, and lord nelson, and sich like sort of fellers. why, domine, i should think, from all accounts i heard at the time, and arter it, that they must have killed all of five millions of folks, in all that fightin’ agin napoleon. oh! it’s a cruel piece of business to butcher folks so; and yit, nevertheless, notwithstanding, them same men was toasted, and be-toasted now all over the world, and it makes me sick of human natur’; and if i am a black man, i hate to see respectable people act so.
“finally, arter a long stay, we hauled up anchor for port antonio. one day a man aloft cries out ‘ship ahoy.’ the captain looks through his big glass and says, ‘bear down on her helmsman;’ and when we got nigh ’nough, the captain hails her; ‘what ship?’
“‘torpedo.’
“‘what captain?’
“‘trumbull.’
“‘where from?’
“‘african coast.’
“‘where bound?’
“‘america.’
“‘can i come on board you?’
“‘yes.’
“so he bears down and lays too, and i, ‘mong the rest, went aboard. the captain treats us very genteel; and when they’d finished drinkin’ captain trumbull orders the hatch open, and i looked down, and to my sad surprise i see ’twas crowded with slaves. the first thing i see was a colored female, as naked as she was born into the world, and she looked up at me with a pitiful look; and an iron band went round her leg, and then she was locked to an iron bolt that went from one end of the ship to the other; and there was five hundred slaves down in that hole; men, women, and children, all chained down there, and among ’em all not one had a rag of clothes on,—and not a bit of daylight entered, only that hatch-way, and then only when they opened it to throw out the dead ones, or else feed ’em; and when i put my head over the hole, a steam come out strong ’nough to knock down a horse, for there they was in their own filth, and oh! how they did smell. there was several women that had jist had children, and a good many sick, and there they was, and oh! what a sight,—some on ’em was cryin’ and talkin’ among themselves, but i couldn’t understand a word they said; and there was a parcel of leetle fellers, that was from two to ten years old, a runnin’ round ‘mong ’em, and some on ’em was dead, and you could hear the dyin’ groans of others. oh! i never did think a body of folks could suffer so and live. why, how do you think they sat? they all sat down with their legs straddled out right up close agin’ one another, and they couldn’t stir only one arm and hand, for all else was chained.
“i felt worse, i ‘spose, and it was entirely more heart-rendin’ to me, because they was my own species; they warn’t only human bein’s but africans. ? oh! if i didn’t hate slavery arter this worse than ever; why! it seemed to me a thousand times worse than it ever did afore, when i was a slave myself.
“well, the captain said he started with eight hundred, and three hundred had died on the v’yge! ? and he’d only been out ten days, and that’s mor’n one an hour; and that he had to keep one hand in there nigh upon half the time, to knock off the chains from the dead ones, and pitch ’em upon deck; and, says he, i have left a wake of blood fifteen hundred miles; for, no sooner than i fling one out than a shark flies at him and colors all the water with blood in less than one minute; why, says he, ‘a shoal of sharks follows our slave ships clear from africa to america!!’ oh! my soul, if there is one kind of wickedness greater, and worser, and viler, and more devilish and cusseder than any other, it is sich business. ?
“the slave captain asked our captain if he thought he could git into america? he told him he didn’t think he could. ‘how long do you calculate to be in that business?’ says captain bainbridge.
“‘i can’t tell, sir.’
“‘well, sir,’ says our captain, as he left the ship, ‘i advise you to clear up your ship when you git into port, and quit that cussed traffic, and go aboard a merchantman, and be a gentleman.’[13] and he didn’t like it nother’![14] well, we left, and boarded our own ship; but that scene of blood i couldn’t forgit! i could see them poor crutters, for a good many days, in my thoughts and dreams; and sometimes i could see ’em jist as fresh and sorrowful as ever. hundreds and hundreds of poor slaves, now at the south, are their descendants; and, like enough, you see some on ’em mr. l.——, when you was at the south; and i know how to pity the descendants of them that’s fetched over in slave ships, for one of my grandfathers was fetched out in one, as i told you in the beginnin’ on my story.
13. all over the world slavery, in all its forms, is repugnant and offensive to noble and generous feeling: and every where, in all ages and nations, oppression and this unholy traffic meet with a just rebuke. man’s better feeling will revolt from cruelty and injustice until they are extinguished.
14. of course he didn’t “like it.” it never did please the devil to be reproved of his evil deeds. it don’t please southern soul-dealers and soul-drivers to be rebuked.
“well, we made port antonio in three weeks, and stayed there thirteen days, and got a cargo, and then the captain says ‘boys, we shall have a rough passage home, if we go this fall, it’s so late, for we stayed a good while over the brine, and now who will hold up hands for staying till next spring?’
“so all on us up with both hands, and we hauled up anchor for amsterdam—that’s in the dutch country—and we made port in four weeks; and when we’d been there ’bout a fortnight, the captain got a letter from his uncle, james bainbridge, who was in bristol, and wanted him to come there and winter with him, for he was a sea captain, tu. so he leaves his ship in our hands, and makes the first mate captain, and we had to obey all his orders; and the captain starts and says, ‘farewell boys, keep ship safe till you see me, and i’ll write to ye often, and let you know how i cut my jib.’ and we see no more on him till airly next spring.
“well, we had all the fun on shore and aboard we could ask for. white and black, we was all hail fellers, well met. we used to have a heap of visiters aboard, to hear ’bout america. we’d have an interpreter to tell our stories, and almost make some of them smoking, thick-skulled dutchmen b’lieve that america flowed with milk and honey, and that pigs run ‘round the streets here with knives and forks in their backs, cryin’ out ‘eat me.’ i used to be a pretty slick darkey for fixin’ out a story, tu, and a big one ’bout america; and then some white man would set by my side and put the edge on, and ‘twould go without any greasin’; and the captain used to say, always, that if any deviltry was agoin’ on, pete was always sure to have a finger in the pie. well, we used to talk a considerable ’bout the wars they was a havin’ in the old countries, at that time, and they said they could take us up to a place, a few miles from there, where there had been a great battle, sometime afore; and for curiosity, we all went up to see it. well, we goes, and finds thirty or forty acres, and there wasn’t a green thing on it, and ’twas covered with bones and skulls, and all kinds of balls and spikes, and bayonets, and whole heaps of bones, and i guess you never see so melancholy a place in all your life. oh! it made me sick of war to see thousands and thousands of human bein’s a bleachin’ on the sand. and it seemed that the ground where that battle was fit, wouldn’t let any green thing grow there, and i don’t b’lieve any green thing grows there till this day. and there we was, a hearin’ every day ’bout bonaparte, and his killin’ his thousands, and his takin’ this city and that city, and his conquerin’ this gineral and that gineral; but lord wellington give him a tough heat on the land, and lord nelson on the sea; but the world see terrible sorry times for a few years, while that napoleon was a runnin’ his career.
“well, captain got back to amsterdam the first of april, and on the fourteenth we weighed anchor for new york. well, come the sixth day i guess, at evenin’ arter i’d done all my work, and was a settin’ on the railin’ rother carelessly, the boom jibed and struck me on the top of my head, and the first i knew i was pitched head first into the brine. i fell into the wake and swum as fast as i could, and when i riz on the wave i could see the ship and her lights, and then when i went down in the troughs i lost sight of her, and i begun to feel kind’a streakish i tell ye. but pretty soon a rope struck me on the head, and i grabbed and hung on, and the hands aboard drew, and finally i got up pretty near, and the first i knew, and ’bout the last i knew, a wave come and plunged me head first right agin the starn, and that made all jar agin’ and i see mor’n fifty thousand stars; but i hung on, and they drawed me up aboard, and when i come fairly tu, the captain comes along and says:—
“‘nig? where you ben?’
“‘ben a fishin’, sir.’
“‘yis, and if you’d come across a good shark, you’d catched a nice fish wouldn’t you?’
“and when he spoke ’bout that, it scart me, for i begun to realize my danger, and i begun to be afeard when ’twas tu late, and i trembled jist like a leaf.
“but i’ll hurry on. we made the new york light after a long v’yge, and was kept on quarantine a good while, and on the mornin’ of the fourth of july, when the bells was a ringin’, and the boats was a flyin’ through the bay, and the guns from the battery and hoboken was a soundin’ along the bosom of the hudson, all independence; and we landed and jumped ashore, and i think i never in all my life felt sich a kind of a gush of joy rush through all my soul, as i did when i heard them bells ring, and them guns roar; and this free nigger jumped ashore and celebrated independence as loud as any body.
“the captain paid us all off, and as i left him, i said i’d never go to sea agin, but that didn’t make it so; for i hadn’t been ashore a month, afore i was off agin with captain george thomson. then i had five hundred dollars—three hundred spanish mill dollars, and two hundred on the manhattan bank, and i had as good a wardrobe of clothes, both citizen’s and sailor’s as any other feller. captain thomson finds out i’d got this money, and says he, ‘you better not be a lugging your money round from port, let it out and git the interest on it;’ and so he showed me a rich man, mr. leacraft, that wanted it, and he gin me two notes of two hundred and fifty dollars, for one and two years, and i counted out my money; and we sailed for the west indies. well, we got there and took in a heavy cargo of groceries, and ’bout for home. but ’twas late in the season, and we had cold blusterin’ weather, and finally it grew so cold the rain froze on the riggin’; and the captain says, ‘we can’t make new york,’ and the mate says, ‘we can; and so we sailed on till we made the new york light, and we was all covered with ice; and the captain says, ‘boys we shall git stove to pieces, for we can’t manage our riggin’, and we must put back.’ so we did, into a warmer climate, and in two or three days the riggin’ grew limber, and the ice all dropped off, and it grew warmer and warmer, till at last we was in a region like our ingen summer.
“well, we’d been out a week, and captain woods, north from bristol hailed us, and asked how the entrance was to new york. our captain told him he couldn’t get in, but he swore he would, and on he sailed, and he’d been gone ten days, and he come back a cussin’ and swearin’, and had three of his men froze to death. we stay’d out four weeks longer, and was nearly out of provisions, and obliged to make port; and it moderated a leetle, and finally, arter some trouble, we reached home, and a gladder set of fellers you never did see.
“well, we got paid off, and i jumped ashore, and says i, ‘i’ll stay here now; and here’s what’s off to lady rylander’s, and the rest of the season i’ll play the gentleman, for i’m sick of the brine, and i’ve got money enough to make a dash in the world.’ i’d no sooner got ashore, than a friend of mine comes up, and says, ‘pete, you’ve lost all your money.’ ‘that can’t be possible,’ says i. ‘yis, pete, leacraft is twenty thousand dollars worse than nothin’. well, i was thunderstruck, and goes up to see him. leacraft says, ‘to be sure i am peter, all broke down; but if god spares my life, you shall have every dollar that’s your due.’
“but up to this hour i havn’t got a cent on it. captain thomson tried and tried to git it for me, but all to no purpose; and i grieved and passed sorrowful days and nights i tell ye; for i’d worked in heat and cold, and in all climates and countries for it, and thought now i should be able to begin life right, and ’twas all struck from me at a blow, and ’twas almost like takin’ life i tell ye.
“and now i ‘spose i took a wrong step.—one day i was in a grog shop with some of my companions, and i took a wicked oath, and flung down my money on the counter to pay for our wine, and says i, ‘hereafter, no man shall run away with the price of my labor, and if i have ten dollars, i’ll spend, here she goes,’ and down went my rhino, and in ten days i had spent all the pay of my last v’yge; and then i goes to madam rylander and hires out for sixteen dollars a month as her body sarvant. not a finer lady ever set foot in broadway; and she was as pleasant as the noonday sun, and if her sarvants did wrong, she’d call ’em up and discharge ’em, all pleasant, but firm; and she’d encourage me to be economical and good, and i liked her, but i hadn’t got my fill of the brine yit, and so i thought i’d out on the waves agin. you see i’d been a slave so long that i was jist like a bird let out of her cage, and i couldn’t be satisfied without i was a flyin’ all the time, and besides there was great talk about a war with john bull, and i liked it all the better for that; and so i told lady rylander i must be off, and she offered me higher wages, but all that wouldn’t do; i was bound for the brine and must go.
“i hired out to captain williams agin, as steward, for thirty-one dollars a month; and we weighed anchor for st. domingo; and we took a load of goods from there and started for the rock of gibralter once more. on our passage, we was overhauled by an equinoctial storm, and we had a distressed bad time, and it did seem that we must go to the bottom for days. we fell in with a fleet of thirty-seven sail from the west indies, under the convoy of two english frigates, for london. you see these ships was merchantmen, and the english admiral had sent out two frigates to protect ’em; for england and france was at war, and they’d seize each other’s commerce, and their governments had to protect ’em. when we got in hailin’ distance of the frigates, captain cries out, ‘how long do you think the storm will last?’ ‘can’t say—all looks bad now; two of our vessels have gone to pieces, and every soul lost.’ and while we was talkin’ the seas broke over us like rollin’ mountains; we couldn’t lay into the wind at all, and we had to let her fly, and we went like a streak of greased lightnin’, and we soon lost sight on ’em; and i tell you ’twas a melancholy sight to see sich a fleet strugglin’ with sich a tempest; but we had all we could attend to at home, without borryin’ trouble from abroad. but we finally conquered the storm, and dropped anchor under the old fort agin. we lay in the basin two days, and then got liberty from the governor to go up the straits, and we calculated to run up to egypt, and we cleared the straits and went into the mediterranean; and then we was on what our college-larnt fellers calls classic ground.
“one day the captain calls me on deck and says, ‘nig, do you see that city up the coast?’
“‘yis? sir.’
“‘well, that’s the spot you sing so much about; now let’s have it; strike up, nig.’
“so up i struck:—
“‘to carthagena we was bound,
with a sweet and lively gale,’ &c.
“and i was glad enough to see my old port i’d celebrated so long in my songs. well, we sailed along and had the finest time ever one set of fellers had—the air was as soft as you please, and the islands was as thick as huckle-berries, and of all kinds and sizes. we sailed on by one island, and then by another, and bim’by mount etna hove in sight, while we was a hangin’ off the coast of sicily, and ’twas rocky, and we couldn’t hug the shore very close; but we had a fine sight of the volcano; and there was a steady stream of fire and smoke come out of the top of the mountain, and in the night it was a big sight. it flung a kind of a flickerin’ light over the sea, and we stayed in sight of it some time; and disposed of our load pretty much, and got back to the fort in just eighteen days. we cleared the old rock the next arternoon; and i said ‘good night,’ to the old fort, and i hain’t seen her from that day to this.
“we sailed round cape st. vincent, off the coast of portugal, and then crossed the bay of biscay, o! and passed land’s eend—up st. george’s channel, and through the irish sea, and, on the eighteenth day, dropped anchor in the harbor of liverpool.
“the captain calculated to stay in liverpool till spring, for ’twas now november, and trade a good deal, and bring home a heavy cargo of english goods; but for sartin reasons, i’ll tell soon, we didn’t do it. while we lay in liverpool, there was some great doin’s, i tell ye. the english troops, to the amount of some thousands, marched out under lord wellington, for foreign sarvice on the continent, and soon arter this wellington went to fightin’ in spain. well, they marched out under superior officers, and in the middle of the troops was wellington’s carriage, drawn by six milk-white horses, splendidly caparisoned, and he was in it, and three or four other big lords; and, on each side of the carriage was six officers, on jet black horses, with drawn swords, and they made some noise tu; and i shall remember, to my dyin’ day, how wellington looked.
“but we hadn’t been there long afore the captain comes down one night from the city, aboard ship, and calls out to all the crew, and, says he, ‘boys there’s agoin’ to be war betwixt great britain and america, and all that wants to clear port to-night, and spread our sails for new york, say home!’ and we did say home, in arnest, and we made all preparation, and ’bout midnight we weighed anchor, and towed ourselves out as still as we could, and i never worked so hard while i was free as i did that night, and by daylight we spread all our sails for home, and in four hours we was out of sight of liverpool. arter breakfast we all give three cheers, and all hands says, ‘now we are bound for home, sweet home!’
“well, we had been out ’bout four days, and we fell in with commodore somebody’s ship, that pioneered a fleet of merchantmen for london; they hailed us, and we answered the signal and passed on, and they let us go by peaceable, without a word of war or peace, on either side; and glad ’nough we was to pass ’em so, and we spread all our sails for america, and felt thankful for every breeze that helped us forward.
“well, we had a quick passage, and made the new york light, and i never was so glad to see that light-house in my life, for we expected to git overhauled by an english man-of-war or a privateer every day. well, we got in the last of march, and this was 1812; and well we did, for the first of april an embargo was laid on all the vessels in the ports of the united states, and the nineteenth of june war was declared agin great britain, and then the atlantic was all a blaze of fire.
“captain williams quit his ship, and took a privateer, and he tried to git me ‘long with him, and i thought i would, for a while, but, finally, i concluded i wouldn’t, for i was too much afeared of them ’ere blue plums that flew so thick across the brine for two or three years. ?
“well, captain went out and was gone thirty days, and come back, and his success was so good that his common hands shared five hundred dollars apiece, and if i’d a gone, i should have had my five hundred dollars back agin; but i’d no idee of going to be shot at for money, like these ’ere fools and gumps that goes down to the florida swamps, to be shot at all day by ingens, for eighteen pence a day. captain met me one day in the street, and says he, ‘nig, if you’d only gone with me, you’d a been as big a cuffee now as any on ’em.’ i says ‘captain, i don’t care ’bout havin’ my head shot off of my shoulders; i’m big cuffee ’nough now!’
“well, i didn’t go to sea durin’ the war, and afore we got through with that, i got off of the notion of goin’ at all, and i concluded i’d spend the rest of my days on ‘terra firma,’ as i’d been tossed round on the brine long ’nough, and satisfied myself with seein’ and travel, and so i stayed, and i han’t been out of sight of land ever sence.
“but, one dreadful thing happened to me by goin’ to sea,—i got dreadfully depraved; and i b’lieve there warn’t a man on the globe that would swear worse than i would, and a wickeder feller didn’t breathe than pete wheeler. no language was too vile or wicked for me to take into my mouth; and it did seem to me, when i thought about it, that i blasphemed my maker almost every minute through the day; and i used to frequent the theatre, and all bad places, and drink till i was dead drunk for days; and nobody can bring a charge agin me for hardly one sin but murder and counterfeitin’ that i ain’t guilty on. when i thought ’bout it, i used to think it the greatest wonder on ‘arth that god almighty didn’t cut me off and strike me to hell, for i desarved the deepest damnation in pardition; and if any man on ‘arth says i didn’t, why, all i have to say to sich a man is, that he ain’t a judge. why, as for prayer, i never thought of sich a thing for years; and as for sabbath day, i didn’t hardly know when it come, only i used to be on a frolic or spree on that day, worse than any other day in the week. as for the bible, why, for years and years i never see one, or heard one read; and i didn’t, at that time, know how to read myself a word; and for six years i never had a word said to me ’bout my soul, or the danger of losin’ my soul, and i become as much of a heathen as any man in the hottentot country: and the truth is, no man can make me out so bad as i raly was, for besides all i acted out, there was a hell in my bosom all the time, and these outrageous things was only a little bilin’ over,—only a few leetle streams that run out of a black fountain-head.
“oh! mr. l.——, i don’t know what i should do at the judgment day, if i couldn’t have a saviour. i know i shall have a blacker account than a’most any body there, and how can it all be blotted out, except by christ’s blood?
“why, sir, you can’t tell how wicked sailors generally be. there ain’t more’n one out of a hundred that cares any thing ’bout religion, and they are head and ears in debauchery and intemperance, and gamblin’, and all kinds of sin, and oh! ‘twould make your heart ache to hear their oaths. i’ve seen ’em tremble, and try to pray durin’ a dreadful storm, and all looked like goin’ to the bottom—for i don’t care how heathenish and devilish any body is, if they see death starin’ on ’em in the face, and they ‘spect to die in a few minutes, he’ll cry to god for help—but no sooner than the storm abated they’d cuss worse than ever. now this was jist my fashion, and if any body says that a man who abuses a good god like that don’t desarve to be cut off and put into hell, why then he han’t got any common sense.
“but all this comes pretty much from the officers. i never knowed but one sea captain but what would swear sometimes, and most all on ’em as fast as a dog can trot; and jist so sure as our officers swears, the hands will blaspheme ten times worse; and if the captain wouldn’t swear, and forbid it on board, his orders would be obeyed like any other orders, but, as long as officers swears, so long will sailors. ?
“but sailors have some noble things about ’em as any body of men. they will always stand by their comrades in the heart of danger or misfortune, or attack; and if a company on ’em are on shore, you touch one you touch the whole; and if a sailor was on the desert of arabia, and hadn’t but a quart of water, he’d go snacks with a companion. they are sure to have a soft spot in their hearts somewhere, that you can touch if you can git at it, and when they feel, they feel with all their souls. but, arter all, it’s the ruination of men’s characters to go to sea, for they become heathens, and ginerally, ain’t fit for sober life arter it, and ten to one they ruin their souls.
“but my v’yges are finished, and i’ll sing you one sailor’s song, and then my yarn is done.”
author. “well, strike up, peter.”
peter sings—
“the sailor’s return.
“loose every sail to the breeze,
the course of my vessel improve;
i’ve done with the toil of the seas,
ye sailors i’m bound to my love.
since solena’s as true as she’s fair,
my grief i fling all to the wind;
‘tis a pleasing return for my care,
my mistress is constant and kind.
my sails are all filled to my dear;
what tropic birds swifter can move;
who, cruel, shall hold his career,
that returns to the nest of his love?
hoist ev’ry sail to the breeze,
come, shipmates, and join in the song;
let’s drink, while our ship cuts the seas,
to the gale that may drive her along.
i’ve reached, spite of tempests, the port,
now i’ll fly to the arms of my love;
and, rather than reef i will court,
and win my beautiful dove.”
end of the second book.
