PREFACE.
In one respect, this book is a parallel to Franklin's
well-known apologue of the hatter and his sign. It
was commenced with a sole view of exhibit the present
state of society in the United States, through the
agency, in part, of a set of characters with different
peculiarties, who had freshly arrived from Europe, and
to whom the distinctive features of the country would
be apt to present themselves with greater force, than
to those who had never lived beyond the influence of
the things portrayed. By the original plan, the work
was to open at the threshold of the country, or with
the arrival of the travellers at Sandy Hook, from
which point the tale was to have been carried regularly
forward to its conclusion. But a consultation with
others has left little more of this plan than the hatter's
friends left of his sign. As a vessel was introduced in
the first chapter, the cry was for “more ship,” until
the work has become “all ship;” it actually closing
at, or near, the spot where it was originally intended
it should commence. Owing to this diversion from the
author's design—a design that lay at the bottom of all
his projects—a necessity has been created of running
the tale through two separate works, or of making a
hurried and insufficient conclusion. The former scheme
has, consequently, been adopted.
It is hoped that the interest of the narrative will not
be essentially diminished by this arrangement.
There will be, very likely, certain imaginative persons,
who will feel disposed to deny that every minute
event mentioned in these volumes ever befell one and
the same ship, though ready enough to admit that they
may very well have occurred to several different ships;
a mode of commenting that is much in favour with
your small critic. To this objection, we shall make
but a single answer. The caviller, if any there should
prove to be, is challenged to produce the log-book of
the Montauk, London packet, and if it should be found
to contain a single sentence to controvert any one of
our statements or facts, a frank recantation shall be
made. Captain Truck is quite as well known in New
York as in London or Portsmouth, and to him also we
refer with confidence, for a confirmation of all we have
said, with the exception, perhaps, of the little occasional
touches of character that may allude directly to
himself. In relation to the latter, Mr. Leach, and particularly
Mr. Saunders, are both invoked as unimpeachable
witnesses.
Most of our readers will probably know that all
which appears in a New York journal is not necessarily
as true as the Gospel. As some slight deviations
from the facts accidentally occur, though doubtless at
very long intervals, it should not be surprising that
they sometimes omit circumstances that are quite as
veracious as anything they do actually utter to the
world. No argument, therefore, can justly be urged
against the incidents of this story, on account of the
circumstance of their not being embodied in the regular
marine news of the day.
Another serious objection on the part of the American
reader to this work is foreseen. The author has
endeavoured to interest his readers in occurrences of a
date as antiquated as two years can make them, when
he is quite aware, that, in order to keep pace with a
state of society in which there was no yesterday, it
would have been much safer to anticipate things, by
laying his scene two years in advance. It is hoped,
however, that the public sentiment will not be outraged
by this glimpse at antiquity, and this the more
so, as the sequel of the tale will bring down events
within a year of the present moment.
Previously to the appearance of that sequel, however,
it may be well to say a few words concerning
the fortunes of some of our characters, as it might be
en attendant.
To commence with the most important: the Montauk
herself, once deemed so “splendid” and convenient,
is already supplanted in the public favour by a
new ship; the reign of a popular packet, a popular
preacher, or a popular anything-else, in America, being
limited by a national esprit de corps, to a time materially
shorter than that of a lustre. This, however, is
no more than just; rotation in favour being as evidently
a matter of constitutional necessity, as rotation in
office.
Captain Truck, for a novelty, continues popular, a
circumstance that he himself ascribes to the fact of
his being still a bachelor.
Toast is promoted, figuring at the head of a pantry
quite equal to that of his great master, who regards
his improvement with some such eyes as Charles the
Twelfth of Sweden regarded that of his great rival
Peter, after the affair of Pultowa.
Mr. Leach now smokes his own cigar, and issues his
own orders from a monkey rail, his place in the line
being supplied by his former “Dickey.” He already
speaks of his great model, as of one a little antiquated,
it is true, but as a man who had merit in his time,
though it was not the particular merit that is in fashion
to-day.
Notwithstanding these little changes, which are perhaps
inseparable from the events of a period so long
as two years in a country as energetic as America, and
in which nothing seems to be stationary but the ages
of Tontine nominees and three-life leases, a cordial
esteem was created among the principal actors in the
events of this book, which is likely to outlast the passage,
and which will not fail to bring most of them
together again in the sequel.
April, 1838.
