 | CHAPTER X. The sea lions, or, The lost sealers |  |
10. CHAPTER X.
The sorrow from thy strain;
But where thy earthly smile hath dwelt,
Our hearts shall thirst in vain.”
Mrs. Hemans.
As soon as it would do to put his boats in the water, or
at daylight next morning, Captain Daggett came alongside
of his consort. He was received with a seaman's welcome,
and his offers of services were accepted, just as frankly, as
under reversed circumstances, they would have been made.
of neighbourly and Christian kindness, blended with a keen
regard of the main chance. If the former duties are rarely
neglected by the descendants of the Puritans, it may be
said, with equal truth, that the latter are never lost sight
of. Speculation, and profit, are regarded as so many integral
portions of the duty of man; and, as our kinsmen of
Old England have set up an idol to worship, in the form
of aristocracy, so do our kinsmen of New England pay
homage to the golden calf. In point of fact, Daggett had
a double motive in now offering his services to Gardiner;
the one being the discharge of his moral obligations, and
the other a desire to remain near the Sea Lion of Oyster
Pond, lest she should visit the key, of which he had some
very interesting memorandums, without having enough to
find the place unless led there by those who were better
informed on the subject of its precise locality than he was
himself.
The boats of Daggett assisted in getting the wreck
alongside, and in securing the sails and rigging. Then,
his people aided in fitting jury-masts; and, by noon, both
vessels got under way, and stood along the coast, to the
southward and westward. Hatteras was no longer terrible,
for the wind still stood at north-west, and they kept in view
of those very breakers which, only the day before, they
would have given the value of both vessels to be certain of
never seeing again. That night they passed the formidable
cape, a spit of sand projecting far to seaward, and which
is on a low beach, and not on any main land at all. Once
around this angle in the coast, they had a lee, hauling up
to the south-west. With the wind abeam, they stood on
the rest of the day, picking up a pilot. The next night
they doubled Cape Look Out, a very good landmark for
those going north to keep in view, as a reminder of the
stormy and sunken Hatteras, and arrived off Beaufort harbour
just as the sun was rising, the succeeding morning.
By this time the north-wester was done, and both schooners
entered Beaufort, with a light southerly breeze, there being
just water enough to receive them. This was the only
place on all that coast into which it would have answered
their purposes to go; and it was, perhaps, the very port of
of Roswell Gardiner. Pine timber, and spars of all sorts,
abounded in that region; and the “Banker,” who acted as
pilot, told our young master that he could get the very
sticks he needed, in one hour's time after entering the haven.
This term of “Banker” applies to a scattering population
of wreckers and fishermen, who dwell on the long,
low, narrow beaches which extend along the whole of this
part of the coast, reaching from Cape Fear to near Cape
Henry, a distance of some hundred and fifty miles. Within
lie the capacious sounds already mentioned, including Albemarle
and Pimlico, and which form the watery portals
to the sea-shores of all North Carolina. Well is the last
headland of that region, but one which the schooners did
not double, named Cape Fear. It is the commencement,
on that side, of the dangerous part of the coast, and puts
the mariner on his guard by its very appellation, admonishing
him to be cautious and prudent.
Off the entrance of Beaufort, a very perfect and beautiful
haven, if it had a greater depth of water, the schooners
hove-to, in waiting for the tide to rise a little; and Roswell
Gardiner took that occasion to go on board the sister
craft, and express to Daggett a sense of the obligations he
felt for the services the other had rendered.
“Of course, you will not think of going in, Captain
Daggett,” continued our hero, in dwelling on the subject,
“after having put yourself, already, to so much unnecessary
trouble. If I find the spars the Banker talks of, I
shall be out again in eight-and-forty hours, and we may
meet, some months hence, off Cape Horn.”
“I'll tell you what it is, Gar'ner,” returned the Vineyard
mariner, pushing the rum towards his brother master,
“I'm a plain sort of a fellow, and don't make much talk
when I do a thing, but I like good-fellowship. We came
near going, both of us—nearer than I ever was before, and
escape wrackin'; but escape we did—and when men have
gone through such trials in company, I don't like the notion
of casting off till I see you all a-tanto ag'in, and with
as many legs and arms as I carry myself. That's just my
feelin', Gar'ner, and I won't say whether it's a right feelin'
or not—help yourself.”
“It's a right feeling, as between you and me, Captain
Daggett, as I can answer for. My heart tells me you are
right, and I thank you from it, for these marks of friendship.
But, you must not forget there are such persons as
owners, in this world. I shall have trouble enough on my
hands, with my owner, and I do not wish you to have
trouble with yours. Here is a nice little breeze to take
you out to sea again; and by passing to the southward of
Bermuda, you can make a short cut, and hit the trades far
enough to windward to answer all your purposes.”
“Thankee, thankee, Gar'ner — I know the road, and
can find the places I'm going to, though no great navigator.
Now, I never took a lunar in my life, and can't do
anything with a chronometer; but as for finding the way
between Martha's Vineyard and Cape Horn, I'll turn my
back on no shipmaster living.”
“I'm afraid, Captain Daggett, that we have both of us
turned our backs on our true course, when we suffered
ourselves to get jammed away down here, on Hatteras.
Why, I never saw the place before, and never wish to see
it again! It's as much out of the track of a whaler, or
sealer, as Jupiter is out of the track of Mars, or Venus.”
“Oh, there go your lunars, about which I know nothing,
and care nothing. I tell you, Gar'ner, a man with a good
judgment, can just as well jog about the 'arth, without any
acquaintance with lunars, as he can with. Then, your
sealer hasn't half as much need of your academy-sort of
navigation, as another man. More than half of our calling
is luck; and all the best sealing stations I ever heard of,
have been blundered on by some chap who has lost his way.
I despise lunars, if the truth must be said; yet I like to go
straight to my port of destination. Take a little sugar
with your rum-and-water—we Vineyard folks like sweetening.”
“For which purpose, or that of going straight to your
port, Captain Daggett, you've come down here, on your
way to the Pacific; or, about five hundred miles out of
your way!”
“I came here for company, Gar'ner. We hadn't much
choice, you must allow, for we couldn't have weathered
the shoals on the other tack. I see no great harm in our
three hundred dollar job, and may make your owner grumble
a little, but it's no killing matter. I'll stick by you,
and you can tell the deacon as much in the letter you'll
write him, when we get in.”
“It seems like doing injustice to your owners, as well
as to my own, keeping you here, Captain Daggett,” returned
Roswell, innocently, for he had not the smallest
suspicion of the true motive of all this apparent good-fellowship,
“and I really wish you would now quit me.”
“I couldn't think of it, Gar'ner. 'T would make an
awful talk on the Vineyard, was I to do anything of the
sort. `Stick by your consort,' is an eleventh commandment,
in our island.”
“Which is the reason why there are so many old maids
there, I suppose, Daggett,” cried Roswell Gardiner, laughing.
“Well, I thank you for your kindness, and will endeavour
to remember it when you may have occasion for
some return. But, the tide must be making, and we ought
to lose no time, unnecessarily. Here's a lucky voyage to
us both, Captain Daggett, and a happy return to sweet-hearts
and wives.”
Daggett tossed off his glass to this toast, and the two then
went on deck. Roswell Gardiner thought that a kinder
ship's company never sailed together than this of the Sea
Lion of Holmes' Hole; for, notwithstanding the interest
of every man on board depended on the returns of their
own voyage, each and all appeared willing to stick by him
and his craft so long as there was a possibility of being of
any service.
Whalers and sealers do not ship their crews for wages in
money, as is done with most vessels. So much depends on
the exertions of the people in these voyages, that it is the
practice to give every man a direct interest in the result.
Consequently, all on board engage for a compensation to
be derived from a division of the return cargo. The terms
on which a party engages are called his “lay;” and he gets
so many parts of a hundred, according to station, experience
and qualifications. The owner is paid for his risk
and expenses in the same way, the vessel and outfits usually
taking about two-thirds of the whole returns, while the
little, as the proceeds of whaling and sealing rise or fall in
the market, and also in reference to the cost of equipments.
It follows that Captain Daggett and his crew were actually
putting their hands into their own pockets, when they lost
time in remaining with the crippled craft. This Gardiner
knew, and it caused him to appreciate their kindness at a
rate so much higher than he might otherwise have done.
At first sight, it might seem that all this unusual kindness
was superfluous, and of no avail. This, however, was
not really the case, since the crew of the second schooner
was of much real service in forwarding the equipment of
the disabled vessel. Beaufort has an excellent harbour for
vessels of a light draught of water like our two sealers; but
the town is insignificant, and extra labourers, especially
those of an intelligence suited to such work, very difficult
to be had. At the bottom, therefore, Roswell Gardiner
found his friendly assistants of much real advantage, the
two crews pushing the work before them with as much
rapidity as suited even a seaman's impatience. Aided by
the crew of his consort, Gardiner got on fast with his repairs,
and on the afternoon of the second day after he had
entered Beaufort, he was ready to sail once more; his
schooner probably in a better state for service than the day
she left Oyster Pond.
The lightning-line did not exist at the period of which
we are writing. It is our good fortune to be an intimate
acquaintance of the distinguished citizen who has bestowed
this great gift on his own country—one that will transmit
his name to posterity, side by side with that of Fulton. In
his case, as in that of the last-named inventor, attempts
have been made to rob him equally of the honours and the
profits of his very ingenious invention. As respects the
last, we hold that it is every hour becoming less and less
possible for any American to maintain his rights against
numbers. There is no question that the government of this
great Republic was intended to be one of well-considered
and upright principles, in which certain questions are to be
referred periodically to majorities, as the wisest and most
natural, as well as the most just mode of disposing of them.
Such a government, well administered, and with an accurate
be the best that human infirmity will allow men to administer;
but when the capital mistake is made of supposing that
mere numbers are to control all things, regardless of those
great fundamental laws that the state has adopted for its
own restraint, it may be questioned if so loose, and capricious,
and selfish a system, is not in great danger of becoming
the very worst scheme of polity that cupidity ever
set in motion. The tendency—not the spirit of the institutions,
the two things being the very antipodes of each
other, though common minds are so apt to confound them—
the tendency of the institutions of this country, in flagrant
opposition to their spirit or intentions, which were devised
expressly to restrain the disposition of men to innovate, is
out of all question to foster this great abuse, and to place
numbers above principles, even when the principles were
solemnly adopted expressly to bring numbers under the
control of a sound fundamental law. This influence of
numbers, this dire mistake of the very nature of liberty,
by placing men and their passions above those great laws
of right which come direct from God himself, is increasing
in force, and threatens consequences which may set at
naught all the well-devised schemes of the last generation
for the security of the state, and the happiness of that very
people, who can never know either security or even peace,
until they learn to submit themselves, without a thought of
resistance, to those great rules of right which in truth form
the spirit of their institutions, and which are only too often
in opposition to their own impulses and motives.
We pretend to no knowledge on the subject of the dates
of discoveries in the arts and sciences, but well do we remember
the earnestness and single-minded devotion to a
laudable purpose, with which our worthy friend first communicated
to us his ideas on the subject of using the
electric spark by way of a telegraph. It was in Paris, and
during the winter of 1831-2, and the succeeding spring, a
time when we were daily together; and we have a satisfaction
in recording this date, that others may prove better
claims if they can. Had Morse set his great invention on
foot thirty years earlier, Roswell Gardiner might have communicated
with his owner, and got a reply, ere he again
As things then were, he was fain to be content with writing
a letter, which was put into the deacon's hand about a
week after it was written, by his niece, on his own return
from a short journey to Southold, whither he had been to
settle and discharge a tardy claim against his schooner.
“Here is a letter for you, uncle,” said Mary Pratt,
struggling to command her feelings, though she blushed
with the consciousness of her own interest in the missive.
“It came from the Harbour, by some mistake; Baiting
Joe bringing it across just after you left home.”
“A letter with a post mark — `Beaufort, N. C.' — Who
in natur' can this letter be from?—What a postage, too, to
charge on a letter! Fifty cents!”
“That is a proof, sir, that Beaufort must be a long way
off. Besides, the letter is double. I think the hand-writing
is Roswell's.”
Had the niece fired a six-pounder under her uncle's ears,
he would scarcely have been more startled. He even turned
pale, and instead of breaking the wafer as he had been
about to do, he actually shrunk from performing the act,
like one afraid to proceed.
“What can this mean?” said the deacon, taking a moment
to recover his voice. “Gar'ner's hand-writing! So
it is, I declare. If that imprudent young man has lost my
schooner, I'll never forgive him in this world, whatever a
body may be forced to do in the next!”
“It is not necessary to believe anything as bad as that,
uncle. Letters are often written at sea, and sent in by
vessels that are met. I dare say Roswell has done just this.”
“Not he—not he—the careless fellow! He has lost that
schooner, and all my property is in the hands of wrackers,
who are worse than so many rats in a larder. `Beaufort,
N. C.' Yes, that must be one of the Bahamas, and N. C.
stands for New Providence — Ah's me! Ah's me!”
“But N. C. does not stand for New Providence — it
would be N. P. in that case, uncle.”
“N. C. or N. P., they sound so dreadfully alike, that I
don't know what to think! Take the letter and open it.
Oh! how big it is—there must be a protest, or some other
costly thing inclosed.”
Mary did take the letter, and she opened it, though with
trembling hands. The inclosure soon appeared, and the
first glance of her eye told her it was a letter addressed to
herself.
“What is it, Mary?—What is it, my child? Do not be
afraid to tell me,” said the deacon, in a low faltering voice.
“I hope I know how to meet misfortunes with Christian
fortitude. Has it one of them awful-looking seals that
Notary Publics use when they want money?”
Mary blushed rosy-red, and she appeared very charming
at that moment, though as resolute as ever to give her hand
only to a youth whose `God should be her God.'
“It is a letter to me, sir—nothing else, I do assure you,
uncle. Roswell often writes to me, as you know; he has
sent one of his letters inclosed in this to you.”
“Yes, yes—I'm glad it's no worse. Well, where was
his letter written? Does he mention the latitude and longitude?
It will be some comfort to learn that he was well to
the southward and eastward.”
Mary's colour disappeared, and a paleness came over her
face, as she ran through the few first lines of the letter.
Then she summoned all her resolution, and succeeded in
telling her uncle the facts.
`A misfortune has befallen poor Roswell,” she said, her
voice trembling with emotion, “though it does not seem to
be half as bad as it might have been. The letter is written
at Beaufort, in North Carolina, where the schooner has put
in to get new masts, having lost those with which she sailed
in a gale of wind off Cape Hatteras.”
“Hatteras!” interrupted the deacon, groaning—“What
in natur' had my vessel to do down there?”
“I am sure I don't know, sir—but I had better read you
the contents of Roswell's letter, and then you will hear the
whole story.”
Mary now proceeded to read aloud. Gardiner gave a
frank, explicit account of all that had happened since he
parted with his owner, concealing nothing, and not attempting
even to extenuate his fault. Of the Sea Lion of Holmes'
Hole he wrote at large, giving it as his opinion that Captain
Daggett really possessed some clue—what he did not know
—to the existence of the sealing islands, though he rather
precise position. As respected the key, Roswell was silent,
for it did not at all occur to him that Daggett knew anything
of that part of his own mission. In consequence of
this opinion, not the least suspicion of the motive of the
Vineyard-man, in sticking by him, presented itself to Gardiner's
mind; and nothing on the subject was communicated
in the letter. On the contrary, our young master
was quite eloquent in expressing his gratitude to Daggett
and his crew, for the assistance they had volunteered, and
without which he could not have been ready to go to sea
again in less than a week. As it was, the letter was partly
written as the schooner re-passed the bar, and was sent
ashore by the pilot to be mailed. This fact was stated in
full, in a postscript.
“Volunteered!” groaned the deacon, aloud. “As if a
man ever volunteers to work without his pay!”
“Roswell tells us that Captain Daggett did, uncle,” answered
Mary, “and that it is understood between them he
is to make no charge for his going into Beaufort, or for
anything he did while there. Vessels often help each other
in this kind way, I should hope, for the sake of Christian
charity, sir.”
“Not without salvage, not without salvage! Charity
is a good thing, and it is our duty to exercise it on all
occasions; but salvage comes into charity all the same as into any other interest. This schooner will ruin me, I
fear, and leave me in my old age to be supported by the
town!”
“That can hardly happen, uncle, since you owe nothing
for her, and have your farms, and all your other property
unencumbered. It is not easy to see how the schooner can
ruin you.”
“Yes, I am undone”—returned the deacon, beating the
floor with his foot, in nervous agitation—“as much undone
as ever Roswell Gar'ner's father was, and he might have
been the richest man between Oyster Pond and Riverhead,
had he kept out of the way of speculation. I remember
him much better off than I am myself, and he died but
little more than a beggar. Yes, yes; I see how it is; this
schooner has undone me!”
“But Roswell sends an account of all that he has paid,
and draws a bill on you for its payment. The entire amount
is but one hundred and sixteen dollars and seventy-two
cents.”
“That's not for salvage. The next thing will be a demand
for salvage in behalf of the owners and crew of the
Sea Lion of Humses' Hull! I know how it will be, child;
I know how it will be! Gar'ner has undone me, and I
shall go down into my grave a beggar, as his father has
done already.”
“If such be the fact, uncle, no one but I would be the
sufferer, and I will strive not to grieve over your losses.
But, here is a paper that Roswell has inclosed in his letter
to me, by mistake, no doubt. See, sir; it is an acknowledgment,
signed by Captain Daggett and all his crew, admitting
that they went into Beaufort with Roswell out of
good feeling, and allowing that they have no claims to
salvage. Here it is, sir; you can read it for yourself.”
The deacon did not only read it—he almost devoured
the paper, which, as Mary suggested, had been inclosed in
her letter by mistake. The relief produced by this document
so far composed the uncle, that he not only read
Gardiner's letter himself, with a very close attention to its
contents, but he actually forgave the cost of the repairs incurred
at Beaufort. While he was in the height of his joy
at this change in the aspect of things, the niece stole into
her own room in order to read the missive she had received,
by herself.
The tears that Mary Pratt profusely shed over Roswell's
letter, were both sweet and bitter. The manifestations of
his affection for her, which were manly and frank, brought
tears of tenderness from her eyes; while the recollection
of the width of the chasm that separated them, had the
effect to embitter these proofs of love. Most females would
have lost the sense of duty which sustained our heroine in
this severe trial, and, in accepting the man of their heart,
would have trusted to time, and her own influence, and the
mercy of Divine Providence, to bring about the change she
desired; but Mary Pratt could not thus blind herself to her
own high obligations. The tie of husband and wife she
rightly regarded as the most serious of all the obligations
vows to any man whose `God was not her God.'
Still there was much of sweet consolation in this little-expected
letter from Roswell. He wrote, as he always did,
simply and naturally, and attempted no concealments. This
was just as true of his acts, as the master of the schooner,
as it was in his character of a suitor. To Mary he told the
whole story of his weakness, acknowledging that a silly
spirit of pride which would not permit him to seem to
abandon a trial of the qualities of the two schooners, had
induced him to stand on to the westward longer than he
should otherwise have done, and the currents had come to
assist in increasing the danger. As for Daggett, he supposed
him to have been similarly influenced; though he
did not withhold his expressions of gratitude for the generous
manner in which that seaman had stuck to him to the
last.
For weary months did Mary Pratt derive sweet consolation
from her treasure of a letter. It was, perhaps, no
more than human nature, or woman's nature at least, that,
in time, she got most to regard those passages which best
answered to the longings of her own heart; and that she
came at last to read the missive, forgetful in a degree, that
it was written by one who had deliberately, and as a matter
of faith, adopted the idea that the Redeemer was not, in
what may be called the catholic sense of the term, the Son
of God. The papers gave an account of the arrival of the
`Twin Sea Lions,' as the article styled them, in the port
of Beaufort, to repair damages; and of their having soon
sailed again, in company. This paragraph she cut out of
the journal in which it met her eye, and enclosing it in
Roswell's last letter, there was not a day in the succeeding
year in which both were not in her hand, and read for the
hundredth time, or more. These proofs of tenderness,
however, are not to be taken as evidence of any lessening
of principle, or as signs of a disposition to let her judgment
and duty submit to her affection. So far from this, her
resolution grew with reflection, and her mind became more
settled in a purpose that she deemed sacred, the longer she
reflected on the subject. But, her prayers in behalf of her
absent lover grew more frequent, and much more fervent.
In the mean time, the Twin Lions sailed. On leaving
Beaufort, they ran off the coast with a smart breeze from
south-west, making a leading wind of it. There had been
some variance of opinion between Daggett and Gardiner,
touching the course they ought to steer. The last was for
hauling up higher, and passing to the southward of Bermuda;
while the first contended for standing nearly due
east, and going to the northward of those islands. Gardiner
felt impatient to repair his blunder, and make the
shortest cut he could; whereas Daggett reasoned more
coolly, and took the winds into the account, keeping in
view the main results of the voyage. Perhaps the last
wished to keep his consort away from all the keys, until
he was compelled to alter his course in a way that would
leave no doubt of his intentions. Of one thing the last
was now certain; he knew by a long trial that the Sea
Lion of Oyster Pond could not very easily run away from
the Sea Lion of Holmes' Hole, and he was fully resolved
that she should not escape from him in the night, or in
squalls. As for Roswell Gardiner, not having the smallest
idea of looking for his key, until he came north, after visiting
the antarctic circle, he had no notion whatever of the
reason why the other stuck to him so closely; and, least
of all, why he wished to keep him clear of the West Indies,
until ready to make a descent on his El Dorado.
Beaufort lies about two degrees to the northward of the
four hundred rocks, islets, and small islands, which are
known as the Bermudas; an advanced naval station, that
belongs to a rival commercial power, and which is occupied
by that power solely as a check on this republic in the
event of war. Had the views of real statesmen prevailed
in America, instead of those of mere politicians, the whole
energy of this republic would have been long since directed
to the object of substituting our own flag for that of England,
in these islands. As things are, there they exist; a
station for hostile fleets, a receptacle for prizes, and a dêpot
for the munitions of war, as if expressly designed by nature
to hold the whole American coast in command. While
little men with great names are wrangling about south-western
acquisitions, and north-eastern boundaries, that
are of no real moment to the growth and power of the republic,
mind of the American statesman, have not yet entered into
the account at all; a certain proof how little the minds
that do, or ought to, influence events, are really up to the
work they have been delegated to perform. Military expeditions
have twice been sent from this country to Canada,
when both the Canadas are not of one-half the importance
to the true security and independence of the country—(no
nation is independent until it holds the control of all its
greater interests in its own hands) — as the Bermudas.
When England asked the cession of territory undoubtedly
American, because it overshadowed Quebec, she should
have been met with this plain proposition—“Give us the
Bermudas, and we will exchange with you. You hold
those islands as a check on our power, and we will hold
the angle of Maine for a check on yours, unless you will
consent to make a fair and mutual transfer. We will not
attack you for the possession of the Bermudas, for we deem
a just principle even more important than such an accession;
but when you ask us to cede, we hold out our hands
to take an equivalent in return. The policy of this nation
is not to be influenced by saw-logs, but by these manifest,
important, and ulterior interests. If you wish Maine, give
us Bermuda in exchange, or go with your wishes ungratified.”
Happily, among us, events are stronger than men;
and the day is not distant when the mere force of circumstances
will compel the small-fry of diplomacy to see what
the real interests and dignity of the republic demand, in
reference to this great feature of its policy.
Roswell Gardiner and Daggett had several discussions
touching the manner in which they ought to pass those
islands. There were about four degrees to spare between
the trades and the Bermudas; and the former was of opinion
that they might pass through this opening, and make
a straighter wake, than by going farther north. These
consultations took place from quarter-deck to quarter-deck,
as the two schooners ran off free, steering directly for the
islands, as a sort of compromise between the two opinions.
The distance from the main to the Bermudas is computed
at about six hundred miles, which gave sufficient leisure
for the discussion of the subject in all its bearings. The
mild, and the wind standing, they were renewed each afternoon,
when the vessels closed, as if expressly to admit of
the dialogue. In all this time, five days altogether, it was
farther ascertained that the difference in sailing between
the Twin Lions, as the sailors now began to call the two
schooners, was barely perceptible. If anything, it was
slightly in favour of the Vineyard craft, though there yet
remained many of the vicissitudes of the seas, in which to
make the trial. While this uncertainty as to the course
prevailed, the low land appeared directly ahead, when
Daggett consented to pass it to the southward, keeping the
cluster in sight, however, as they went steadily on towards
the southward and eastward.
| CHAPTER X. The sea lions, or, The lost sealers | |