Two Years Before the Mast
other things, serious and common. Yet, with all this, and the feeling
I had for my old shipmates, condemned to another term of California
life, the thought that we were done with it, and that one week more
would see us on our way to Boston, was a cure for everything.
Friday, May 6th, completed the taking of our cargo, and was a memorable
day in our calendar. The time when we were to take in our last hide,
we had looked forward to, for sixteen months, as the first bright spot.
When the last hide was stowed away, and the hatches calked down, the
tarpaulins battened on to them, the long-boat hoisted in and secured,
and the decks swept down for the night,--the chief mate sprang upon the
top of the long-boat, called all hands into the waist, and giving us a
signal by swinging his cap over his head,--we gave three long, loud
cheers, which came from the bottom of our hearts, and made the hills
and valleys ring again. In a moment, we heard three, in answer, from
the California's crew, who had seen us taking in our long-boat,
and--"the cry they heard--its meaning knew."
The last week, we had been occupied in taking in a supply of wood and
water for the passage home, and bringing on board the spare spars,
sails, etc. I was sent off with a party of Indians to fill the
water-casks, at a spring, about three miles from the shipping, and near
the town, and was absent three days, living at the town, and spending
the daytime in filling the casks and transporting them on ox-carts to
the landing-place, whence they were taken on board by the crew with
boats. This being all done with, we gave one day to bending our sails;
and at night, every sail, from the courses to the skysails, was bent,
and every studding-sail ready for setting.
Before our sailing, an unsuccessful attempt was made by one of the crew
of the California to effect an exchange with one of our number. It was
a lad, between fifteen and sixteen years of age, who went by the name
of the "reefer," having been a midshipman in an East India Company's
ship. His singular character and story had excited our interest ever
since the ship came into the port. He was a delicate, slender little
fellow, with a beautiful pearly complexion, regular features, forehead
as white as marble, black haired, curling beautifully, rounded,
tapering, delicate fingers, small feet, soft voice, gentle manners,
and, in fact, every sign of having been well born and bred. At the
same time there was something in his expression which showed a slight
deficiency of intellect. How great the deficiency was, or what it
resulted from; whether he was born so; whether it was the result of
disease or accident; or whether, as some said, it was brought on by his
distress of mind, during the voyage, I cannot say. From his own
account of himself, and from many circumstances which were known in
connection with his story, he must have been the son of a man of
wealth. His mother was an Italian woman. He was probably a natural
son, for in scarcely any other way could the incidents of his early
life be accounted for. He said that his parents did not live together,
and he seemed to have been ill treated by his father. Though he had
been delicately brought up, and indulged in every way, (and he had then
with him trinkets which had been given him at home,) yet his education
had been sadly neglected; and when only twelve years old, he was sent
as midshipman in the Company's service. His own story was, that he
afterwards ran away from home, upon a difficulty which he had with his
father, and went to Liverpool, whence he sailed in the ship Rialto,
Captain Holmes, for Boston. Captain Holmes endeavored to get him a
passage back, but there being no vessel to sail for some time, the boy
left him, and went to board at a common sailor's boarding-house, in Ann
street, where he supported himself for a few weeks by selling some of
his valuables. At length, according to his own account, being desirous
of returning home, he went to a shipping-office, where the shipping
articles of the California were open. Upon asking where the ship was
going, he was told by the shipping-master that she was bound to
California. Not knowing where that was, he told him that he wanted to
go to Europe, and asked if California was in Europe. The
shipping-master answered him in a way which the boy did not understand,
and advised him to ship. The boy signed the articles, received his
advance, laid out a little of it in clothes, and spent the rest, and
was ready to go on board, when, upon the morning of sailing, he heard
that the ship was bound upon the North-west Coast, on a two or three
years' voyage, and was not going to Europe. Frightened at this
prospect, he slipped away when the crew was going aboard, wandered up
into another part of the town, and spent all the forenoon in straying
about the common, and the neighboring streets.
Having no money, and all his clothes and other things being in the
chest, on board, and being a stranger, he became tired and hungry, and
ventured down toward the shipping, to see if the vessel had sailed. He
was just turning the corner of a street, when the shipping-master, who
had been in search of him, popped upon him, seized him, and carried him
on board. He cried and struggled, and said he did not wish to go in
the ship, but the topsails were at the mast-head, the fasts just ready
to be cast off, and everything in the hurry and confusion of departure,
so that he was hardly noticed; and the few who did inquire about the
matter were told that it was merely a boy who had spent his advance and
tried to run away. Had the owners of the vessel known anything of the
matter, they would have interfered at once; but they either knew
nothing of it, or heard, like the rest, that it was only an unruly boy
who was sick of his bargain. As soon as the boy found himself actually
at sea, and upon a voyage of two or three years in length, his spirits
failed him; he refused to work, and became so miserable, that Captain
Arthur took him into the cabin, where he assisted the steward, and
occasionally pulled and hauled about decks. He was in this capacity
when we saw him; and though it was much better for him than the life in
the forecastle, and the hard work, watching, and exposure, which his
delicate frame could not have borne, yet, to be joined with a black
fellow in waiting upon a man whom he probably looked upon as but
little, in point of education and manners, above one of his father's
servants, was almost too much for his spirit to bear. Had he entered
upon his situation of his own free will, he could have endured it; but
to have been deceived, and, in addition to that, forced into it, was
intolerable. He made every effort to go home in our ship, but his
captain refused to part with him except in the way of exchange, and
that he could not effect. If this account of the whole matter, which
we had from the boy, and which was confirmed by all the crew, be
correct, I cannot understand why Captain Arthur should have refused to
let him go, especially being a captain who had the name, not only with
that crew, but with all whom he had ever commanded, of an unusually
kind-hearted man.
The truth is, the unlimited power which merchant captains have, upon
long voyages on strange coasts, takes away a sense of responsibility,
and too often, even in men otherwise well-disposed, substitutes a
disregard for the rights and feelings of others. The lad was sent on
shore to join the gang at the hide-house; from whence, I was afterwards
rejoiced to hear, he effected his escape, and went down to Callao in a
small Spanish schooner; and from Callao, he probably returned to
England.
Soon after the arrival of the California, I spoke to Captain Arthur
about Hope; and as he had known him on the voyage before, and was very
fond of him, he immediately went to see him, gave him proper medicines,
and, under such care, he began rapidly to recover. The Saturday night
before our sailing, I spent an hour in the oven, and took leave of my
Kanaka friends; and, really, this was the only thing connected with
leaving California which was in any way unpleasant. I felt an interest
and affection for many of these simple, true-hearted men, such as I
never felt before but for a near relation. Hope shook me by the hand,
said he should soon be well again, and ready to work for me when I came
upon the coast, next voyage, as officer of the ship; and told me not to
forget, when I became captain, how to be kind to the sick. Old "Mr.
Bingham" and "King Mannini" went down to the boat with me, shook me
heartily by the hand, wished us a good voyage, and went back to the
oven, chanting one of their deep monotonous songs, the burden of which
I gathered to be about us and our voyage.
Sunday, May 8th. This promised to be our last day in California.
Our forty thousand hides, thirty thousand horns, besides several
barrels of otter and beaver skins, were all stowed below, and the
hatches calked down. All our spare spars were taken on board and
lashed; our water-casks secured; and our live stock, consisting of four
bullocks, a dozen sheep, a dozen or more pigs, and three or four dozen
of poultry, were all stowed away in their different quarters: the
bullocks in the long-boat, the sheep in a pen on the fore-hatch, and
the pigs in a sty under the bows of the long-boat, and the poultry in
their proper coop; and the jolly-boat was full of hay for the sheep and
bullocks. Our unusually large cargo, together with the stores for a
five months' voyage, brought the ship channels down into the water. In
addition to this, she had been steeved so thoroughly, and was so bound
by the compression of her cargo, forced into her by so powerful
machinery, that she was like a man in a straight-jacket, and would be
but a dull sailer, until she had worked herself loose.
The California had finished discharging her cargo, and was to get under
weigh at the same time with us. Having washed down decks and got our
breakfast, the two vessels lay side by side, in complete readiness for
sea, our ensigns hanging from the peaks, and our tall spars reflected
from the glassy surface of the river, which, since sunrise, had been
unbroken by a ripple. At length, a few whiffs came across the water,
and, by eleven o'clock, the regular north-west wind set steadily in.
There was no need of calling all hands, for we had all been hanging
about the forecastle the whole forenoon, and were ready for a start
upon the first sign of a breeze.
All eyes were aft upon the captain, who was walking the deck, with,
every now and then, a look to windward. He made a sign to the mate,
who came forward, took his station, deliberately between the
knight-heads, cast a glance aloft, and called out, "All hands, lay
aloft and loose the sails!" We were half in the rigging before the
order came, and never since we left Boston were the gaskets off the
yards, and the rigging overhauled, in a shorter time. "All ready
forward, sir!"--"All ready the main!"--"Cross-jack yards all ready,
sir!"--"Lay down, all hands but one on each yard!" The yard-arm and
bunt gaskets were cast off; and each sail hung by the jigger, with one
man standing by the tie to let it go. At the same moment that we
sprang aloft, a dozen hands sprang into the rigging of the California,
and in an instant were all over her yards; and her sails, too, were
ready to be dropped at the word. In the mean time our bow gun had been
loaded and run out, and its discharge was to be the signal for dropping
sails. A cloud of smoke came out of our bows; the echoes of the gun
rattled our farewell among the hills of California; and the two ships
were covered, from head to foot, with their white canvas. For a few