Volume OneChapter One
I like to begin at the beginning; its a good old fashion, not sufficiently adhered to in these modern times. I recollect a young gentleman who said he was thinking of going to America; on my asking him, how he intended to go? he replied, I dont exactly know; but I think I shall take the fast coach. I wished him a safe passage, and said, I was afraid he would find it very dusty. As I could not find the office to book myself by this young gentlemans conveyance, I walked down to St. Katherines Docks; went on board a packet; was shewn into a superb cabin, fitted up with birds-eye maple, mahogany, and looking-glasses, and communicating with certain small cabins, where there was a sleeping berth for each passenger, about as big as that allowed to a pointer in a dog-kennel. I thought that there was more finery than comfort; but it ended in my promising the captain to meet him at Portsmouth. He was to sail from London on the 1st of April, and I did not choose to sail on that dayit was ominous; so I embarked at Portsmouth on the 3rd. It is not my intention to give a description of crossing the Atlantic; but as the reader may be disappointed if I do not tell him how I got over, I shall first inform him that we were thirty-eight in the cabin, and 160 men, women, and children, literally stowed in bulk in the steerage. I shall describe what took place from the time I first went up the side at Spithead, until the ship was under weigh, and then make a very short passage of it.
At 9:30 a.m.Embarked on board the good ship Quebec; and a good ship she proved to be, repeatedly going nine and a-half knots on a bowling, sails lifting. Captain H quite delighted to see meall captains of packets are to see passengers: I believed him when he said so.
At 9:50.Sheriffs officer, as usual, came on board. Observed several of the cabin passengers hasten down below, and one who requested the captain to stow him away. But it was not a pen-and-ink affair; it was a case of burglary. The officer has found his man in the steeragethe handcuffs are on his wrists, and they are rowing him ashore. His wife and two children are on board; her lips quiver as she collects her baggage to follow her husband. One half-hour more, and he would have escaped from justice, and probably have led a better life in a far country, where his crimes were unknown. By the bye, Greenacre, the man who cut the woman up, was taken out of the ship as she went down the river: he had very nearly escaped. What cargoes of crime, folly, and recklessness do we yearly ship off to America! America ought to be very much obliged to us.
The women of the steerage are persuading the wife of the burglar not to go on shore; their arguments are strong, but not strong enough against the devoted love of a woman.Your husband is certain to be hung; whats the use of following him? Your passage is paid, and you will have no difficulty in supporting your children in America. But she rejects the advicegoes down the side, and presses her children to her breast, as, overcome with the agony of her feelings, she drops into the boat; and, now that she is away from the ship, you hear the sobs, which can no longer be controlled.
10 a.m.All hands up anchor.
I was repeating to myself some of the stanzas of Mrs Nortons Heres a Health to the Outward-bound, when I cast my eyes forward.
I could not imagine what the seamen were about; they appeared to be pumping, instead of heaving, at the windlass. I forced my way through the heterogeneous mixture of human beings, animals, and baggage which crowded the decks, and discovered that they were working a patent windlass, by Dobbinsona very ingenious and superior invention. The seamen, as usual, lightened their labour with the song and chorus, forbidden by the etiquette of a man-of-war. The one they sung was peculiarly musical, although not refined; and the chorus of Oh! Sally Brown, was given with great emphasis by the whole crew between every line of the song, sung by an athletic young third mate. I took my seat on the knight-headsturned my face aftlooked and listened.
Heave away there, forward.
Aye, aye, sir.
Sally Brownoh! my dear Sally. (Single voice).
Oh! Sally Brown. (Chorus).
Sally Brown, of Buble Al-ly. (Single voice).
Oh! Sal-ly Brown, (Chorus).
Avast heaving there; send all aft to clear the boat.
Aye, aye, sir. Where are we to stow these casks, Mr Fisher?
Stow them! Heaven knows; get them in, at all events.
Captain H! Captain H! theres my piano still on deck; it will be quite spoiledindeed it will.
Dont be alarmed, maam; as soon as were under weigh well hoist the cow up, and get the piano down.
What! under the cow?
No, maam; but the cows over the hatchway.
Now, then, my lads, forward to the windlass.
I went to town to get some toddy.
Oh! Sally Brown.
Twasnt fit for any body.
Oh! Sally Brown.
Out there, and clear away the jib.
Aye, aye, sir.
Mr Fisher, how much cable is there out?
Plenty yet, sir.Heave away, my lads.
Sally is a bright mulattar.
Oh! Sally Brown.
Pretty girl, but cant get at her.
Avast heaving; send the men aft to whip the ladies in.Now, miss, only sit down and dont be afraid, and youll be in, in no time.Whip away, my lads, handsomely; steady her with the guy; lower away.There, miss, now youre safely landed.
Landed am I? I thought I was shipped.
Very good, indeedvery good, miss; youll make an excellent sailor, I see.
I should make a better sailors wife, I expect, Captain H.
Excellent! Allow me to hand you aft; youll excuse me.Forward now, my men; heave away!
Seven years I courted Sally.
Oh! Sally Brown.
Seven more of shilley-shally.
Oh! Sally Brown.
She wont wed
Avast heaving. Up there, and loose the topsails; stretch along the topsail-sheets.Upon my soul, half these children will be killed.Whose child are you?
Idontknow.
Go and find out, thats a dear.Let fall; sheet home; belay starboard sheet; clap on the larboard; belay all that.Now, then, Mr Fisher.
Aye, aye, sir.Heave away, my lads.
She wont wed a Yankee sailor.
Oh! Sally Brown.
For shes in love with the nigger tailor.
Oh! Sally Brown.
Heave away, my men; heave, and in sight. Hurrah! my lads.
Sally Brownoh! my dear Sally!
Oh! Sally Brown!
Sally Brown, of Buble Alley.
Oh! Sally Brown.
Sally has a cross old granny.
Oh!
Heave and falljib-halyardshoist away.
Oh! dearoh! dear.
The clumsy brute has half-killed the girl!Dont cry, my dear.
Pick up the child, Tom, and shove it out of the way.
Where shall I put her?
Oh, any where just now; put her on the turkey-coop.
Starboard!
I say, clap on, some of you he chaps, or else get out of the way.
Sailor, mind my band-box.
Starboard!
Starboard it is; steady so.