 | CHAPTER XVII. Ned Myers, or, A life before the mast |  |
17. CHAPTER XVII.
I had now been no less than eight voyages in the Havre
trade, without intermission. So regular had my occupation
become, that I began to think I was a part of a liner myself.
I liked the treatment, the food, the ships, and the officers.
Whenever we got home, I worked in the ship, at day's work,
until paid off; after which, no more was seen of Ned until
it was time to go on board to sail. When I got in, in the
Normandy, it happened as usual, though I took a short swing
gangs of stevedores, riggers, &c., ashore; and when I went
and reported myself to him, as ready for work in the Normandy
again, he observed that her gang was full, but that,
by going up-town next morning, to the screw-dock, I should
find an excellent job on board a brig. The following day,
accordingly, I took my dinner in a pail, and started off for
the dock, as directed. On my way, I fell in with an old
shipmate in the navy, a boatswain's-mate, of the name of
Benson. This man asked me where I was bound with my
pail, and I told him. “What's the use,” says he, “of dragging
your soul out in these liners, when you have a man-of-war
under your lee!” Then he told me he meant to ship,
and advised me to do the same. I drank with him two or
three times, and felt half persuaded to enter; but, recollecting
the brig, I left him, and pushed on to the dock. When
I got there, it was so late that the vessel had got off the dock,
and was already under way in the stream.
My day's work was now up, and I determined to make a
full holiday of it. As I went back, I fell in with Captain
Mix, the officer with whom I had first gone on the lakes, and
my old first-lieutenant in the Delaware, and had a bit of
navy talk with him; after which I drifted along as far as
the rendezvous. The officer in charge was Mr. M'Kenny,
my old first-lieutenant in the Brandywine, and, before I quitted
the house, my name was down, again, for one of Uncle
Sam's sailor-men. In this accidental manner have I floated
about the world, most of my life—not dreaming in the morning,
what would fetch me up before night.
When it was time to go off, I was ready, and was sent on
board the Hudson, which vessel Captain Mix then commanded.
I have the consolation of knowing that I never
ran, or thought of running, from either of the eleven men-of-war
on board of which I have served, counting big and
little, service of days and service of years. I had so long a
pull in the receiving-ship, as to get heartily tired of her;
and, when an opportunity offered, I put my name down for
the Constellation 38, which was then fitting out for the West
India station, in Norfolk. A draft of us was sent round to
that ship accordingly, and we found she had hauled off from
the yard, and was lying between the forts. When I got on
were in this very ship, some common motive inducing them
to take service in the navy, all at the same time. As for
myself, it happened just as I have related, though I always
liked the navy, and was ever ready to join a ship of war, for
a pleasant cruise.
Commodore Dallas's pennant was flying in the Constellation
when I joined her. A short time afterwards, the ship
sailed for the West Indies. As there was nothing material
occurred in the cruise, it is unnecessary to relate things in
the order in which they took place. The ship went to
Havana, Trinidad, Curaçoa, Laguayra, Santa Cruz, Vera
Cruz, Campeachy, Tampico, Key West, &c. We lay more
or less time at all these ports, and in Santa Cruz we had a
great ball on board. After passing several months in this
manner, we went to Pensacola. The St. Louis was with us
most of this time, though she did not sail from America in
company. The next season the whole squadron went to
Vera Cruz in company, seven or eight sail of us in all, giving
the Mexicans some alarm, I believe.
But the Florida war gave us the most occupation. I was
out in all sorts of ways, on expeditions, and can say I never
saw an Indian, except those who came to give themselves
up. I was in steamboats, cutters, launches, and on shore,
marching like a soldier, with a gun on my shoulder, and
precious duty it was for a sailor.
The St. Louis being short of hands, I was also drafted for
a cruise in her; going the rounds much as we had done in
the frigate. This was a fine ship, and was then commanded
by Captain Rousseau, an officer much respected and liked,
by us all. Mr. Byrne, my old shipmate in the Delaware,
went out with us as first-lieutenant of the Constellation, but
he did not remain out the whole cruise.
Altogether I was out on the West India station three
years, but got into the hospital, for several months of the
time, in consequence of a broken bone. While in the hospital,
the frigate made a cruise, leaving me ashore. On her
return, I was invalided home, in the Levant, Captain Paulding,
another solid, excellent officer. In a word, I was lucky
in my officers, generally; the treatment on board the frigate
being just and good. The duty in the Constellation was
well for those that are trained to it, but makes bad weather
for us blue-jackets. Captain Mix, the officer with whom I
went to the lakes, was out on the station in command of the
Concord, sloop of war, and, for some time, was in charge
of our ship, during the absence of Commodore Dallas, in
his own vessel. In this manner are old shipmates often
thrown together, after years of separation.
In the hospital I was rated as porter, Captain Bolton and
Captain Latimer being my commanding officers; the first
being in charge of the yard, and the second his next in rank.
From these two gentlemen I received so many favours, that
it would be ungrateful in me not to mention them. Dr. Terrill,
the surgeon of the hospital, too, was also exceedingly
kind to me, during the time I was under his care.
As I had much leisure time in the hospital, I took charge
of a garden, and got to be somewhat of a gardener. It was
said I had the best garden about Pensacola, which is quite
likely true, as I never saw but one other.
The most important thing, however, that occurred to me
while in the hospital, was a disposition that suddenly arose
in my mind, to reflect on my future state, and to look at
religious things with serious eyes. Dr. Terrill had some
blacks in his service, who were in the habit of holding little
Methodist meetings, where they sang hymns, and conversed
together seriously. I never joined these people, being too
white for that, down at Pensacola, but I could overhear them
from my own little room. A Roman Catholic in the hospital
had a prayer-book in English, which he lent to me, and
I got into the habit of reading a prayer in it, daily, as a sort
of worshipping of the Almighty. This was the first act of
mine, that approached private worship, since the day I left
Mr. Marchinton's; if I except the few hasty mental petitions
put up in moments of danger.
After a time, I began to think it would never do for me, a
Protestant born and baptised, to be studying a Romish prayer-book;
and I hunted up one that was Protestant, and which
bad been written expressly for seamen. This I took to my
room, and used in place of the Romish book. Dr. Terrill
had a number of bibles under his charge, and I obtained one
of these, also, and I actually got into the practice of reading
also knocked off from drink, and ceased to swear. My
reading in the bible, now, was not for the stories, but seriously
to improve my mind and morals.
I must have been several months getting to be more and
more in earnest on the subject of morality, if not of vital
religion, when I formed an acquaintance with a new steward,
who had just joined the hospital. This man was ready
enough to converse with me about the bible, but he turned
out to be a Deist. Notwithstanding my own disposition to
think more seriously of my true situation, I had many misgivings
on the subject of the Saviour's being the Son of
God. It seemed improbable to me, and I was falling into
the danger which is so apt to beset the new beginner—that
of self-sufficiency, and the substituting of human wisdom
for faith. The steward was not slow in discovering this;
and he produced some of Tom Paine's works, by way of
strengthening me in the unbelief. I now read Tom Paine,
instead of the bible, and soon had practical evidence of the
bad effects of his miserable system. I soon got stern-way
on me in morals; began to drink, as before, though seldom
intoxicated, and grew indifferent to my bible and prayer-book,
as well as careless of the future. I began to think
that the things of this world were to be enjoyed, and he was
the wisest who made the most of his time.
I must confess, also, that the bad examples which I saw set
by men professing to be Christians, had a strong tendency
to disgust me with religion. The great mistake I made was,
in supposing I had undergone any real change of heart.
Circumstances disposed me to reflect, and reflection brought
me to be serious, on subjects that I had hitherto treated with
levity; but the grace of God was still, in a great degree,
withheld from me, leaving me a prey to such arguments as
those of the steward, and his great prophet and master,
Mr. Paine.
In the hospital, and that, too, at a place like Pensacola,
there was little opportunity for me to break out into my old
excesses; though I found liquor, on one or two occasions,
even there, and got myself into some disgrace in consequence.
On the whole, however, the discipline, my situation,
and my own resolution, kept me tolerably correct. It
dying much sooner than they do; for it is certain no man
could hold out long who passed three or four months
every year in the sort of indulgencies into which I myself
have often run, after returning from long voyages. This is
one advantage of the navy; two or three days of riotous
living being all a fellow can very well get in a three years'
cruise. Any man who has ever been in a vessel of war,
particularly in old times, can see the effect produced by the
system, and regular living of a ship. When the crew first
came on board, the men were listless, almost lifeless, with
recent dissipation; some suffering with the “horrors,” perhaps;
but a few weeks of regular living would bring them all
round; and, by the end of the cruise, most of the people
would come into port, and be paid off, with renovated constitutions.
It is a little different, now, to be sure, as the men
ship for general service, and commonly serve a short apprenticeship
in a receiving vessel, before they are turned
over to the sea-going craft. This brings them on board the
last in a little better condition than used to be the case; but,
even now, six months in a man-of-war is a new lease for a
seaman's life.
I say I got myself into disgrace in the hospital of Pensacola,
in consequence of my habit of drinking. The facts
were as follows, for I have no desire to conceal, or to parade
before the world, my own delinquencies; but, I confess
them with the hope that the pictures they present, may
have some salutary influence on the conduct of others.
The doctor, who was steadily my friend, and often gave me
excellent advice, went north, in order to bring his wife to
Pensacola. I was considered entitled to a pension for the
hurt which had brought me into the hospital, and the doctor
had promised to see something about it, while at Washington.
This was not done, in consequence of his not passing
through Washington, as had been expected. Now, nature
has so formed me, that any disgust, or disappointment,
makes me reckless, and awakens a desire to revenge
myself, on myself, as I may say. It was this feeling which
first carried me from Halifax; it was this feeling that made
me run from the Sterling; and which has often changed,
and sometimes marred my prospects, as I have passed
said about my pension, this same feeling came over me,
and I became reckless. I had not drawn my grog for
months, and, indeed, had left off drinking entirely; but I
now determined to have my fill, at the first good opportunity.
I meant to make the officers sorry, by doing something
that was very wrong, and for which I should be sorry
myself.
I kept the keys of the liquor of the hospital. The first
thing was to find a confederate, which I did in the person
of a Baltimore chap, who entered into my plan from pure
love of liquor. I then got a stock of the wine, and we went
to work on it, in my room. The liquor was sherry, and it
took nine bottles of it to lay us both up. Even this did not
make me beastly drunk, but it made me desperate and impudent.
I abused the doctor, and came very near putting
my foot into it, with Captain Latimer, who is an officer that
it will not do, always, to trifle with. Still, these gentlemen,
with Captain Bolton, had more consideration for me, than
I had for myself, and I escaped with only a good reprimand.
It was owing to this frolic, however, that I was invalided
home—as they call it out there, no one seeming to consider
Pensacola as being in the United States.
When landed from the Levant, I was sent to the Navy
Yard Hospital, Brooklyn. After staying two or three days
here, I determined to go to the seat of government, and take
a look at the great guns stationed there, Uncle Sam and all.
I was paid off from the Levant, accordingly, and leaving
the balance with the purser of the yard, I set off on my
journey, with fifty dollars in my pockets, which they tell
me is about a member of Congress' mileage, for the distance
I had to go. Of course this was enough, as a member
of Congress would naturally take care and give himself
as much as he wanted.
When I got on board the South-Amboy boat, I found a
party of Indians there, going to head-quarters, like myself.
The sight of these chaps set up all my rigging, and I felt
ripe for fun. I treated them to a breakfast each, and gave
them as much to drink as they could swallow. We all got
merry, and had our own coarse fun, in the usual thoughtless
manner of seamen. This was a bad beginning, and,
Where this was, is more than I know; for I was not in a
state to keep a ship's reckoning. Whether any of my money
was stolen or not, I cannot say, but I know that some
of my clothes were. Next day I got to Philadelphia, where
I had another frolic. After this, I went on to Washington,
keeping it up, the whole distance. I fell in with a soldier
chap, who was out of cash, and who was going to Washington
to get a pension, too; and so we lived in common.
When we reached Washington, my cash was diminished to
three dollars and a half, and all was the consequences of
brandy and folly. I had actually spent forty-six dollars
and a half, in a journey that might have been made with
ten, respectably!
I got my travelling companion to recommend a boarding-house,
which he did. I felt miserable from my excesses,
and went to bed. In the morning, the three dollars and a
half were gone. I felt too ill to go to the Department that
day, but kept on drinking—eating nothing. Next day, my
landlord took the trouble to inquire into the state of my
pocket, and I told him the truth. This brought about a
pretty free explanation between us, in which I was given to
understand that my time was up in that place. I afterwards
found out I had got into a regular soldier-house, and it was
no wonder they did not know how to treat an old salt.
Captain Mix had given me a letter to Commodore Chauncey,
who was then living, and one of the Commissioners. I
felt pretty certain the old gentleman would not let one of the
Scourges founder at head-quarters, and so I crawled up to
the Department, and got admission to him. The commodore
seemed glad to see me; questioned me a good deal about the
loss of the schooner, and finally gave me directions how to
proceed. I then discovered that my pension ticket had
actually reached Washington, but had been sent back to
Pensacola, to get some informality corrected. This would
compel me to remain some time at Washington. I felt
unwell, and got back to my boarding-house with these
tidings. The gentleman who kept the house was far from
being satisfied with this, and he gave me a hint that at once
put the door between us. This was the first time I ever had
a door shut upon me, and I am thankful it happened at a
pawn, and walked away from his house.
I had undoubtedly brought on myself a fit of the “horrors,”
by my recent excesses. As I went along the streets, I
thought every one was sneering at me; and, though burning
with thirst, I felt ashamed to enter any house to ask even
for water. A black gave me the direction of the Navy
Yard, and I shaped my course for it, feeling more like lying
down to die, than anything else. When about half-way
across the bit of vacant land between the Capitol and the
Yard, I sat down under a high picket-fence, and the devil
put it into my head, that it would be well to terminate sufferings
that seemed too hard to be borne, by hanging myself
on that very fence. I took the handkerchief from my neck,
made a running bow-line, and got so far as to be at work at
a standing bow-line, to hitch over the top of one of the poles
of the fence.
I now stood up, and began to look for a proper picket to
make fast to, when, in gazing about, I caught sight of the
must-heads of the shipping at the yard, and of the ensign
under which I had so long served! These came over me,
as a lighthouse comes over a mariner in distress at sea, and
I thought there must be friends for me in that quarter. The
sight gave me courage and strength, and I determined no old
shipmate should hear of a blue-jacket's hanging himself on
a picket, in a fit of the horrors. Casting off the bowlines, I
replaced the handkerchief on my neck, and made the best
of my way towards those blessed mast-heads, which, under
God's mercy, were the means of preventing me from committing
suicide.
As I came up to the gate of the yard, the marine on post
sung out to me, “Halloo, Myers, where are you come from?
You look as if you had been dragged through h—, and beaten
with a soot-bag!” This man, the first I met at the Navy
Yard, had been with me three years in the Delaware, and
knew me in spite of my miserable appearance. He advised
me to go on board the Fulton, then lying at the Yard, where
he said I should find several more old Delawares, who would
take good care of me. I did as he directed, and, on getting
on board, I fell in with lots of acquaintances. Some brought
me tea, and some brought me grog. I told my yarn, and
night, and razée the house from which I had been turned
away. But I persuaded them out of the notion, and the
landlord went clear.
After a while, I got a direction to a boarding-house near
the Yard, and went to it, with a message from my old shipmates
that they would be responsible for the pay. But to
this the man would not listen; he took me in on my own
account, saying that no blue-jacket should be turned from
his door, in distress. Here I staid and got a comfortable
night's rest. Next day I was a new man, holy-stoned the
decks, and went a second time to the Department.
All the gentlemen in the office showed a desire to serve
and advise me. The Pension Clerk gave me a letter to Mr.
Boyle, the Chief Clerk, who gave me another letter to Commodore
Patterson, the commandant of the Navy-Yard. It
seems that government provides a boarding-house for us pensioners
to stay in, while at Washington, looking after our
rights. This letter of Mr. Boyle's got me a berth in that house,
where I was supplied with everything, even to washing and
mending, for six weeks. Through the purser, I drew a
stock of money from the purser at New York, and now
began, again, to live soberly and respectably, considering
all things.
The house in which I lived was a sort of half-hospital,
and may have had six or eight of us in it, altogether.
Several of us were cripples from wounds and hurts, and,
among others, was one Reuben James, a thorough old man-of-war's
man, who had been in the service ever since he was
a youth. This man had the credit of saving Decatur's life
before Tripoli; but he owned to me that he was not the
person who did it. He was in the fight, and boarded with
Decatur, but did not save his commander's life. He had
been often wounded, and had just had a leg amputated for
an old wound, received in the war of 1812, I believe. Liquor
brought him to that.
The reader will remember that the night the Scourge went
down I received a severe blow from her jib-sheet blocks. A
lump soon formed on the spot where the injury had been
inflicted, and it had continued to increase until it was now
as large as my fist, or even larger. I showed this lump to
who attended the house. The doctor took a look at
my arm, and recommended an operation, as the lump would
continue to increase, and was already so large as to be inconvenient.
I cannot say that it hurt me any, though it
was an awkward sort of swab to be carrying on a fellow's
shoulder. I had no great relish for being carved, and think
I should have refused to submit to the operation, were it not
for James, who told me he would not be carrying Bunker
Hill about on his arm, and would show me his own stump
by way of encouragement. This man seemed to think an
old sailor ought to have a wooden leg, or something of the
sort, after he had reached a certain time of life. At all
events, he persuaded me to let the doctor go to work, and I
am now glad I did, as everything turned out well. Doctor
Foltz operated, after I had been about a week under medicine,
doing the job as neatly as man could wish. He told
me the lump he removed weighed a pound and three quarters,
and of course I was so much the lighter. I was about
a month, after this, under his care, when he pronounced me
to be sea-worthy again.
I now got things straight as regards my pension, for the
hurt received on board the Constellation. It was no great
matter, only three dollars a month, being one of the small
pensions; and the clerks, when they came to hear about the
hurt, for which Dr. Foltz had operated, advised me to get
evidence and procure a pension for that. I saw the Secretary,
Mr. Paulding, on this subject, and the gentlemen were
so kind as to overhaul their papers, in order to ascertain who
could be found as a witness. They wrote to Captain Deacon,
the officer who commanded the Growler; but he knew
nothing of me, as I never was on board his schooner. This
gentleman, however, wrote me a letter, himself, inviting me
to come and see him, which I had it not in my power to do.
I understand he is now dead. Mr. Trant had been dead
many years, and, as for Mr. Bogardus, I never knew what
became of him. He was not in the line of promotion, and
probably left the navy at the peace. In overhauling the
books, however, the pension-clerk came across the name
of Lemuel Bryant. This man received a pension for the
would he got at Little York, and was one of those I had
then living at Portland, in Maine, his native State. Mr.
Paulding advised me to get his certificate, for all hands in
the Department seemed anxious I should not go away without
something better than the three dollars a month. I promised
to go on, and see Lemuel Bryant, and obtain his testimony.
Quitting Washington, I went to Alexandria and got on
board a brig, called the Isabella, bound to New York, at
which port we arrived in due time. Here I obtained the
rest of my money, and kept myself pretty steady, more on
account of my wounds, I fear, than anything else. Still I
drank too much; and by way of putting a check on myself,
I went to the Sailor's Retreat, Staten Island, and of course
got out of the reach of liquor. Here I staid eight or ten
days, until my wounds healed. While at the Retreat, the
last day I remained there indeed, which was a Sunday, the
physician came in, and told me that a clergyman of the
Dutch Reformed Church, of the name of Miller, was about
to have service down stairs, and that I had better go down
and be present. To this request, not only civilly but kindly
made, I answered that I had seen enough of the acts of religious
men to satisfy me, and that I believed a story I was
then reading in a Magazine, would do me as much good as
a sermon. The physician said a little in the way of reproof
and admonition, and left me. As soon as his back was
turned, some of my companions began to applaud the spirit
I had shown, and the answer I had given the doctor. But
I was not satisfied with myself. I had more secret respect
for such things than I was willing to own, and conscience
upbraided me for the manner in which I had slighted so
well-meaning a request. Suddenly telling those around me
that my mind was changed, and that I would go below and
hear what was said, I put this new resolution in effect immediately.
I had no recollection of the text from which Mr. Miller
preached; it is possible I did not attend to it, at the moment
it was given out; but, during the whole discourse, I fancied
the clergyman was addressing himself particularly to me,
and that his eyes were never off me. That he touched my
conscience I know, for the effect produced by this sermon,
present hour. I made many excellent resolutions, and secretly
resolved to reform, and to lead a better life. My
thoughts were occupied the whole night with what I had
heard, and my conscience was keenly active.
The next morning I quitted the Retreat, and saw no more
of Mr. Miller, at that time; but I carried away with me
many resolutions that would have been very admirable, had
they only been adhered to. How short-lived they were,
and how completely I was the slave of a vicious habit, will
be seen, when I confess that I landed in New York a good
deal the worse for having treated some militia-men who
were in the steamer, to nearly a dozen glasses of hot-stuff,
in crossing the bay. I had plenty of money, and a sailor's
disposition to get rid of it, carelessly, and what I thought
generously. It was Evacuation-Day, and severely cold,
and the hot-stuff pleased everybody, on such an occasion.
Nor was this all. In passing Whitehall slip, I saw the
Ohio's first-cutter lying there, and it happened that I not
only knew the officer of the boat, who had been one of the
midshipmen of the Constellation, but that I knew most of its
crew. I was hailed, of course, and then I asked leave to
treat the men. The permission was obtained, and this second
act of liberality reduced me to the necessity of going
into port, under a pilot's charge. Still I had not absolutely
forgotten the sermon, nor all my good resolutions.
At the boarding-house I found a Prussian, named Godfrey,
a steady, sedate man, and I agreed with him to go to
Savannah, to engage in the shad-fishery, for the winter, and
to come north together in the spring. My landlord was not
only ill and poor, but he had many children to support, and
it is some proof that all my good resolutions were not forgotten,
that I was ready to go south before my money was
gone, and willing it should do some good, in the interval of
my absence. A check for fifty dollars still remained untouched,
and I gave it to this man, with the understanding
he was to draw the money, use it for his own wants, and
return it to me, if he could, when I got back. The money
was drawn, but the man died, and I saw no more of it.
Godfrey and I were shipped in a vessel called the William
Taylor, a regular Savannah packet. It was our intention
We had a bad passage, and barely missed shipwreck on
Hatteras, saving the brig by getting a sudden view of the
light, in heavy, thick weather. We got round, under close-reefed
topsails, and that was all we did. After this, we had
a quick run to Savannah. Godfrey had been taken with
the small-pox before we arrived, and was sent to a hospital
as soon as possible. In order to prevent running, I feigned
illness, too, and went to another. Here the captain paid me
several visits, but my conscience was too much hardened by
the practices of seamen, to let me hesitate about continuing
to be ill. The brig was obliged to sail without me, and the
same day I got well, as suddenly as I had fallen ill.
I was not long in making a bargain with a fisherman to
aid in catching shad. All this time, I lived at a sailor boarding-house,
and was surrounded by men who, like myself,
had quitted the vessels in which they had arrived. One
night the captain of a ship, called the Hope, came to the
house to look for a crew. He was bound to Rotterdam, and
his ship lay down at the second bar, all ready for sea. After
some talk, one man signed the articles; then another, and
another, and another, until his crew was complete to one
man. I was now called on to ship, and was ridiculed for
wishing to turn shad-man. My pride was touched, and I
agreed to go, leaving my fisherman in the lurch.
The Hope turned out to be a regular down-east craft, and
I had been in so many flyers and crack ships as to be saucy
enough to laugh at the economical outfit, and staid ways of
the vessel. I went on board half drunk, and made myself
conspicuous for such sort of strictures from the first hour.
The captain treated me mildly, even kindly; but I stuck to
my remarks during most of the passage. I was a seaman,
and did my duty; but this satisfied me. I had taken a disgust
to the ship; and though I had never blasphemed since
the hour of the accident in the way I did the day the Susan
and Mary was thrown on her beam-ends, I may be said to
have crossed the Atlantic in the Hope, grumbling and swearing
at the ship. Still, our living and our treatment were
both good.
At Rotterdam, we got a little money, with liberty. When
the last was up, I asked for more, and the captain refused it.
ship. After a time, the captain consented, as well as he
could, leaving my wages on the cabin-table, where I found
them, and telling me I should repeat of what I was then
doing. Little did I then think he would prove so true a
prophet.
| CHAPTER XVII. Ned Myers, or, A life before the mast | |