nearly two weeks had passed since i left the macedonian. i and my companion were living upon the sums i had saved from the presents i received for my civilities to her numerous visitors. one day, as i was sauntering round the wharves, with my protégé, i met a number of men-of-war’s men. stepping up to them, i perceived some of the old macedonians. of course, i hailed them. they were glad to see me. they had shipped on board the john adams, guard ship, to which they were returning, having been enjoying a few days’ liberty. nothing would satisfy them, but for us to accompany them, and ship too. the midshipman who was with them, joined his entreaties to theirs, and we at last consented.
to avoid being detected by the british, it was usual for our men to assume new names, and to hail from some american port, on shipping in an american vessel. my shipmates advised me to do the same. to this i had some objections, because i knew that changing my name would not make me a yankee, while it might bring me into as awkward a position as it did an irishman, who was found by an english cruiser on board an american vessel. after he had declared himself an american, the officer asked him, “what part of america did you come from?”
“i used to belong to philamadelph, but now i belong to philama york,” replied paddy, concealing his brogue as much as possible. “well,” continued the officer, “can you say pease?”
“pase, sir,” said pat in true irish style. the officer laughed and replied, “mr. pase, you will please to get into the boat.” the poor irishman was unsuccessful in playing the yankee.
mentioning these fears, the midshipman said, “call yourself william harper, and hail from philadelphia;” then turning to my companion, he added, “and call yourself james wilson.”
“but,” said i, “suppose the officer should ask any questions about philadelphia, what should i do?”
“o say you belong to pine street.”
“but what if he asks me in what part of the city pine street is situated, and what streets join it?” i answered, determined not to take a step in the dark if i could avoid it.
the midshipman assured me that no such questions would be put; and, partly confiding and partly doubting, i resolved to make the experiment. going on board, we were paraded before the officers. addressing me, one of them said, “well, my boy, what is your name?”
mustering all the confidence i could command, i boldly answered, “william harper, sir.”
“what part of america do you belong to, my boy?”
“philadelphia, sir.”
here one of the officers smiled and remarked, “ah, a townsman.” i trembled at hearing this, inwardly hoping that they would ask me no more questions. to my increased alarm, however, he continued by asking, “what street in philadelphia?”
“pine street, sir,” said i, with the air of a man who feels himself drawn toward a crisis he cannot escape.
“what street joins pine street, my lad?” asked my tormentor, with a knowing laugh.
this was a poser; for further than this my instructions had not proceeded. however, i rallied the little confidence which remained, and said, “i don’t remember, sir.”
the officer who had claimed me as a townsman, mentioned the next street, and my examiner went on by asking me what street joined the one mentioned by the officer.
my colors, which had fallen to half-mast before, were now fairly struck. i had to surrender at discretion; but thinking to get off with the honors of war, i answered, “gentlemen, it is so long since i was in philadelphia, i have forgotten all about it.”
this point blank shot might have saved me, when, as if providence had determined to make my attempt at lying a total failure, one of them detected a glittering anchor button, which had contrived to get rid of the covering placed over it by the fingers of the widow. pointing it out to the others, he said, “where did you get that english button? did you pick it up in philadelphia?”
this was a shot which raked me fore and aft. i hauled down my colors and stood silent. the officers laughed heartily as one of them said, “go below, my lad; you will make a pretty good yankee.”
through all this procedure the reader will perceive how perfect was the disregard of truth among all parties, from my humble self to the officers, who were evidently rather pleased than otherwise at my attempt to pass for an american. such an absence of moral rectitude is deplorable; it exhibits the unfitness of the parties for a mansion in his kingdom who is a god of truth: it lays the foundation for a mutual distrust and suspicion among men, and it leaves the offender to meet a fearful weight of responsibility in the day that shall try every man’s work. i am thankful that the influences of christianity have fallen upon me since that time, in such abundance as to renew the spirit of my mind, and to fill me with abhorrence towards a violation of truth.
the next morning i and my companion, who had escaped the ordeal that had proved too much for me, were summoned to go ashore to the rendezvous, that we might sign the ship’s articles; or, in sailor phrase, get shipped. the officer of the watch shouted, “boatswain’s mate!”
“sir,” answered a deep, gruff voice.
“pipe away the cutter,” said the officer.
“aye, aye, sir.”
“pass the word for james wilson and william harper.”
“aye, aye, sir.”
then followed a loud, shrill whistle, accompanied with the cry of, “away, there, cutters, away!” we were also summoned to appear, and told to take our seats in the cutter, which by this time lay alongside, manned by her crew of six men, who sat each with his oar elevated in the air, waiting the word of command. we were soon seated, the lieutenant passed the words, “let fall, and give way;” the oars fell into the water with admirable precision, and away we flew towards the shore.
on our way to the rendezvous, i told my companion i should not ship in the john adams, because so many of the macedonians were already there, and it was impossible for us to pass for americans. after some debate, we agreed together not to sign the articles. on entering the house where the stars and stripes were flying over the door, in token of its being the naval rendezvous, being anxious to have my friend wilson pass the ordeal first, i affected to stumble, and then continued apparently engaged in fixing my shoe-string. “well, my boy, what is your name? just sign it here, will you?” said the officer.
i took no notice, but remained very busy with my shoes. my shipmate replied in a low, bashful voice, “i don’t like to ship, sir.”
“very well, then go below,” said the officer. at this juncture, feeling encouraged by his remark, i looked up; when, to my discomfiture, the officer, fixing his eyes on my retreating companion, observed, “that fellow will certainly be hung;” meaning that he would get caught by the english. then, addressing me, he said, “now, my lad, just sign your name.”
“sir,” said i, “i had better not ship alone. the other boy is only frightened; let me talk to him a little, and i can persuade him to ship with me.”
the shipping officer was too old a bird to be snared with such chaff as this. so, speaking rather sharply, he said, “let him go, sir, and ship yourself; then he’ll come back and join you; and”—he smiled as he spoke—“i will let you come ashore to persuade him, in a day or two.”
still i pretended not to be convinced, and, after considerable debate, he let me off. once more clear, i joined my young shipmate, and we proceeded together to our boarding-house, congratulating ourselves on our fortunate escape, as it appeared to us.
two weeks of idleness had nearly exhausted the little stock of funds i had picked up on board my old ship, and it was becoming necessary for me to find some means or other of supporting myself; for although the prim widow, with whom i boarded, was quite obliging while her bills were paid, it was altogether probable that she would become a little crusty if they should be neglected. at this crisis i fortunately met with an englishman, who had visited our frigate at hurl-gate. his name was smith; he was a deserter from the british army; but was now settled in new york, as a boot-maker, in the employment of the firm of benton & co., broadway. he offered to take me and initiate me into the art, science and secrets of boot-making. seeing no better opportunity before me, i accepted his kind offer, and at once entered on my novitiate.
behold me then, kind reader, transformed from the character of a runaway british sailor, into that of a quiet scholar, at the feet of st. crispin, where in the matter of awls, wax-ends, lapstones and pegs, i soon became quite proficient.
it is altogether probable that the rest of my life would have glided away in this still and quiet manner, but for a report that reached me, one sabbath, as i was wasting its precious hours in wandering about among the shipping. this was, that there was a tall, stout seaman on board the united states, named george turner. from the name and description, i had no doubt that this was my cousin, who (the reader has not forgotten i presume) presented himself so unceremoniously to my aunt at wanstead.
this intelligence determined me to pay that frigate a visit. going on board, i found her crew living in a complete elysium of sensual enjoyment. they had recently received their prize money. salt beef and pork were now rejected with disdain: jack’s messkids smoked with more savory viands, such as soft tack (bread) and butter, fried eggs, sausages, &c.; the whole well soaked with copious streams of rum and brandy.
those of the crew who had been in the macedonian, hailed me with a hearty welcome; those for whom i had bought the turkey and apples at christmas repaid me fourfold, so that when i went ashore that night my purse was as heavy as on the afternoon when i quitted my ship. my cousin did not recognise me at first; but by referring him to his visit to my old abode, he at last felt satisfied that i was his cousin. he then charged me not to mention our relationship, because he wished to pass for an american. having given me this charge, he surveyed me from head to foot, and then said, “what are you doing in new york?”
“i am learning to make boots and shoes.”
“i am sorry you are bound to a shoemaker,” said he; “i don’t like that business.”
“i am not bound to mr. smith, but can leave him when i please.”
“well, then,” he remarked thoughtfully, “i don’t want you to go to sea again. go to salem, in the state of massachusetts. i have a wife and children there, and shall be at home in a few weeks.”
this was a kind offer, and i at once agreed to take his advice. i had already grown somewhat weary with the confinement of my new mode of life, though, on the whole, considering my education, and the character of the influence exerted upon me in the macedonian, i was a steady lad. mr. smith had left me pretty much to my own inclinations during the two months of my residence with him; yet my utmost misconduct had been the drinking of a little spirit, and the violation of the sabbath by roaming about the docks and wharves. my sabbath evenings i had usually spent in a more profitable manner, it being my habit to spend them at the methodist chapel in duane street.
on returning to the house of my kind employer, i lost no time in communicating to him my change of purpose. he objected, and justly too, to be left just as the pains he had taken to instruct me were about to be requited by my usefulness. however, as i offered him five dollars, he consented to my departure.
at that time there were no steamboats ploughing the waters of the sound, so i engaged a steerage passage to providence, for five dollars, on board a packet sloop, and, with a light heart and elastic step, carried my clothes-bag on board. here, however, i met with a trifling loss. while ashore waiting for a fair wind, a negro, who had engaged a passage in the sloop, robbed my bag of several articles of wearing apparel, and took french leave. in consideration of this mishap, the captain exacted only three dollars passage-money. from providence a stage, chartered exclusively by a party of sailors, conveyed me to boston; from whence i soon reached the house of my cousin in salem.
mrs. turner received me with great kindness; indeed, she pretended not to be surprised at my visit, assigning as a reason the very satisfactory fact that she had seen me with my bag on my shoulder in the grounds of a teacup! she was a believer in fortune-telling and dreams, having, for aught i know, received her convictions as an heirloom from her witch-burning ancestors. at any rate she was strongly confirmed in her favorite theory by my timely arrival; verifying, as it did, to the very particular of the bag on the shoulder, the truth-telling tea-grounds.
she gave me another proof, after i had been there a few weeks, of the truthfulness and verity of dreams, by calling me up one morning, with an injunction to make haste to the post-office, for she had dreamed of catching fish. sure enough, if she caught no fish in her dreams, she caught a very fine one in the letter i brought to her, for it contained a one hundred dollar bill from her husband, with information that his ship was blockaded in the port of new london by commodore hardy.
accident or curiosity, i forget which, led me to attend the religious services of the baptists in salem. they were enjoying a season of religious refreshing: several were baptized. the hymn beginning with the line—
“oh, how happy are they who their saviour obey,”
was sung as the converts came out of the water, and made a strong impression on my mind. had some devoted christian made himself acquainted with my feelings, and given me suitable advice, there is no doubt but that i should have been led to embrace the lord jesus christ. how many divine impressions are destroyed, through lack of faithfulness in christians!
perhaps the great reason why these serious impressions were so transient, was because the company i kept was so unfavorable to their growth. most of my time was spent about the shipping: among these were many privateers, the profanity of whose crews was such that it had passed into a proverb. it was usual to say to a gross swearer, “you swear like a privateer’s-man.” religion could not flourish in an atmosphere tainted by their vices.
among my favorite pursuits was that of fishing. sometimes i went with mixed parties of males and females; at others, with a few sailor companions. one of these excursions came very near costing rather more than it was worth. we had been out all night; towards morning we thought we would get a little sleep, and for this purpose laid ourselves down under the top-gallant forecastle. luckily for us, we had an old sailor, named lewis deal, on board. he had been quartermaster on board the united states. knowing that the coast was strictly guarded by british cruisers, he kept awake. just at dawn the bang of a single gun led him to call us, saying, “there, i told you to look out for johnny bull.”
looking about us, we saw an english gun brig in chase after a boston sloop. this was a sight that inspired us with a very sudden and wonderful agility, since we had a decided repugnance to a free passage in the aforesaid brig to halifax; especially as in my case it might have the rather unpleasant termination of an airing at the yard-arm; which, for very strong reasons i chose to avoid if possible.
by dint of strong arms and quick movements, we succeeded in hauling in our anchor and getting under weigh, without attracting the englishman’s attention. expecting a shot at our heels every moment, we sat breathlessly measuring our distance from the brig. fortunately, we escaped notice, and reached salem in safety.
shortly after this adventure, the good citizens of salem were thrown into a high state of excitement by the noise of a heavy cannonading. a general rush took place from all quarters towards the neck. i followed with the rest. we found it to be occasioned by the engagement between the chesapeake and shannon, in compliance with a challenge, sent by the latter, which was accepted by captain lawrence, of the former. the result is well known. after a short action, the chesapeake struck to the shannon, and was carried away by the victors, in triumph, to halifax. one reason for the defeat of the american frigate, may perhaps be found in the fact that her crew were newly shipped; some of them were volunteer landsmen, while none of them had what sailors call their sea-legs on. no ship is fit for action until she has been at sea at least a month. in this action the captain, first lieutenant, and several men, were killed. mr. george crowninshield sent a vessel to halifax for the bodies of those gallant officers; they were interred in salem with naval honors.
my cousin, having now reached home, was desirous to have me devote myself to some business. he proposed that of a sailmaker; but by this time i had quite a desire to go to sea again.
the constitution, the frolic sloop of war, and the gun brig siren, were all shipping hands in boston. my feelings inclined me towards old ironsides; but my cousin, having sailed with captain parker, of the siren, recommended that officer so strongly, that i was induced to join his ship, in company with the quartermaster and several of the former hands of the united states. my cousin also overruled my design of shipping in a false name; so that, in defiance of my fears, i suffered myself to be entered as samuel leech, on the books of the u. s. brig siren, of sixteen guns. the payment of three months’ advance, with the sum i brought with me from new york, enabled me honorably to discharge my board bills at my cousin’s, and to purchase a little clothing necessary to fit me for sea. i was then in the seventeenth year of my life.
once more in a man of war, my seriousness all vanished like mist before the sun. alas, it was poor soil to nourish the seed of life! barren of everything that related to purity, religion, and immortality.
my first impressions of the american service were very favorable. the treatment in the siren was more lenient and favorable than in the macedonian. the captain and officers were kind, while there was a total exemption from that petty tyranny exercised by the upstart midshipmen in the british service. as a necessary effect, our crew were as comfortable and as happy as men ever are in a man of war.
while we lay in boston harbor, thanksgiving-day arrived. some of our salem men inquired if i was not going home to keep thanksgiving, for they all supposed i belonged to salem. what they meant by thanksgiving, was a mystery to me, but, dissembling my ignorance, i obtained leave, determined to learn what it meant. the result of my visit was the idea that thanksgiving was one in which the people crammed themselves with turkeys, geese, pumpkin-pies, &c.; for, certainly, that was the chief business of the day, so far as i could perceive. with too many people, i believe that this is the leading idea associated with the day even now.
our brig had before this taken in her guns, consisting of two long nine-pounders, twelve twenty-four pound carronades, and two forty-two pounders. our crew was composed of some one hundred and twenty-five smart, active men. we were all supplied with stout leather caps, something like those used by firemen. these were crossed by two strips of iron, covered with bearskin, and were designed to defend the head, in boarding an enemy’s ship, from the stroke of the cutlass. strips of bearskin were likewise used to fasten them on, serving the purpose of false whiskers, and causing us to look as fierce as hungry wolves. we were also frequently exercised in the various evolutions of a sea-fight; first using our cannon, then seizing our cutlasses and boarding-pikes, and cutting to the right and left, as if in the act of boarding an enemy’s ship. thus we spent our time from early in the fall until after christmas, when we received orders to hold ourselves in readiness for sea.
