University of Virginia Library

6. VI.

Upon the mighty bosom of the “Father of Waters,”
our gallant ship now proudly floats. The
Mississippi! that noble river, whose magnificent
windings I have traced with my finger upon the
map in my school-boy days, wishing, with all the
adventurous longing of a boy, that I might, like the
good fathers Marquetti and Hennepin, leap into an
Indian's birch canoe, and launching from its source
among the snows and untrodden wilds of the far
north, float pleasantly away under every climate,
down to the cis-Atlantic Mediterranean; where,
bursting from its confined limits, it proudly shoots
into the tideless sea through numerous passages,
like radii from one common centre. My wishes are
now, in a measure, about to be realized. The low,
flat, and interminable marshes, through the heart of

which we are rapidly advancing—the ocean like horizon,
unrelieved by the slightest prominence—the
sullen, turbid waves around us, which yield but
slowly and heavily to the irresistible power of steam
—all familiar characteristics of this river—would
alone assure me that I am on the Mississippi. My
last letter left us in the immediate expectation of
being taken in tow by the “Whale,” then coming
rapidly down the South-West passage, in obedience
to the hundred signals flying at the “fore” of as
many vessels on every side of us. In a few minutes,
snorting and dashing over the long groundswell,
and flinging a cloud of foam from her bows,
she ran alongside of us, and sent her boat on board.
While the little skiff was leaping from wave to wave
to our ship, we had time to observe more attentively
than when in motion, the singular appearance of this
unique class of steamboats.

Her engine is of uncommon power, placed nearer
the centre of the hull than in boats of the usual construction;
her cabin is small, elevated, and placed
near the engine in the centre of the boat. With
the exception of the engine and cabin, she is “flush”
from stem to stern; one quarter of her length abaft
the cabin, and the same portion forward of the boilers
being a broad platform, which extends quite
around the boat, forming a very spacious guard on
either side.

The after part of this guard is latticed for the
purpose of carrying off the water with facility when
thrown back from the wheels. They seldom or
never take passengers up to the city. The usual

price for towing is, I think, about one dollar per
ton. Hence the expense is very great for vessels
of large burthen; and rather than incur it, many
ships, after being towed over the bar, which, at this
season, cannot be crossed otherwise, work their own
way up to town, which, with a fair wind, may be
effected in twenty-four hours, the distance being
but one hundred and five miles; but it not unfrequently
takes them ten or fifteen days. Our captain
informs me that he once lay thirty-six days in
the river before he could reach New-Orleans—but
fortunately, owing to the state of the market, on his
arrival, he realized two hundred per cent. more on
his cargo than he would have done had he arrived
a month carlier.

The jolly-boat from the steamer was now along
side, and the officer in the stern sheets tossed a
small package on our quarter-deck; and then, with
the velocity of an uncaged bird, his little green
cockle-shell darted away from us like a dolphin.
The next moment he stood upon the low deck of
the steamer.

“Go ahead!” loudly was borne over the water,
and with a plunge and a struggle, away she dashed
from us with her loud, regular boom, boom, boom!
throwing the spray around her head, like the huge
gambolling monster from which she derives her
name. With her went our hopes of speedy deliverance
from our present durance. With faces whose
complicated, whimsically-woful expression Lavater
himself could not have analyzed, and as though
moved by one spirit, we turned simultaneously

toward the captain, who leaned against the capstan,
reading one of the letters from the package just received.
There was a cloud upon his brow which
portended no good to our hopes, and which, by a
sympathetic feeling, was attracted to, and heavily
settled upon our own. We turned simultaneously
to the tow-boat: she was rapidly receding in the
distance. We turned again to watch our probable
fate in the captain's face. It spoke as plainly as
face could speak, “gentlemen, no tow-boat.” We
gazed upon each other like school-boys hatching a
conspiracy. Mutual glances of chagrin and dissatisfaction
were bandied about the decks. After
so long a passage, with our port almost in sight,
and our voyage nearly ended, to be compelled to
remain longer in our close prison, and creep like a
winding, day after day, through the sinuosities of
this sluggish Mississipi, was enough to make us
ship-wearied wretches verily,

It was a consummation we had never wished.
There was evidently a rebellion in embryo. The
storm was rapidly gathering, and the thunders had
already begun “to utter their voices.” The whole
scene was infinitely amusing. There could not
have been more feeling exhibited, had an order come
down for the ship to ride a Gibraltar quarantine.

The captain, having quietly finished the perusal

of his letters, now changed at once the complexion
of affairs.

“I have just received advices, gentlemen, from
my consignees in the city, that the market will be
more favourable for my cargo fifteen days hence,
than now; therefore, as I have so much leisure before
me, I shall decline taking the tow-boat, and
sail up to New-Orleans. I will, however, send my
boat aboard the brig off our starboard quarter,
which will take steam, and try to engage passage
for those who wish to leave the ship.”

There was no alternative, and we cheerfully sacrificed
our individual wishes to the interests of
Captain Callighan, whose urbanity, kindness and
gentlemanly deportment, during the whole passage
out, had not only contributed to our comfort and
happiness, but won for him our cordial esteem and
good feelings.[1]

In a few minutes one of our quarter-boats was
along-side, bobbing up and down on the short seas,
with the buoyancy of a cork-float. The first officer,
myself, and another passenger, leaped into
her; and a few dozen long and nervous strokes
from the muscular arms of our men, soon ran us
aboard the brig, whose anchor was already “apeak,”
in readiness for the Whale. As we approached
her, I was struck with her admirable symmetry
and fine proportions—she was a perfect model of
naval architecture. Though rather long for her
breadth of beam, the sharp construction of her bows,

and the easy, elliptical curve of her sides, gave her
a peculiarly light and graceful appearance, which,
united with her taunt, slightly raking taper masts,
and the precision of her rigging, presented to our
view a nautical ensemble, surpassing in elegance
any thing of the kind I had ever before beheld.

We were politely received at the gang-way by
the captain, a gentlemanly, sailor-like looking
young man, with whom, after introducing ourselves,
we descended into the cabin. I had time, however,
to notice that the interior of this very handsome
vessel corresponded with the exterior. The
capstan, the quarter-rail stanchions, the edge of the
companion-way, and the taffrail, were all ornamented
and strengthened with massive brass plates,
polished like a mirror. The binnacle case was of
ebony, enriched with inlaying and carved work. A
dazzling array of steel-headed boarding pikes formed
a glittering crescent half around the main-mast.
Her decks evinced the free use of the “holy-stone,”
and in snowy whiteness, would have put to the
blush the unsoiled floors of the most fastidious
Yankee housewife. Her rigging was not hung on
pins, but run and coiled “man-o'-war fashion,”
upon her decks. Her long boat, amidships, was
rather an ornament than an excrescence, as in most
merchantmen. Forward, the “men” were gathered
around the windlass, which was abaft the foremast,
all neatly dressed in white trousers and shirts, even
to the sable “Doctor” and his “sub,” whose double
banks of ivories were wonderingly illuminative,

as they grinned at the strangers who had so unceremoniously
boarded the brig.

As I descended the mahogany stair-case, supported
by a highly polished balustrade cast in brass,
my curiosity began to be roused, and I found myself
wondering into what pleasure-yacht I had intruded.
She was evidently American; for the
“stars and stripes” were floating over our heads.
Independent of this evidence of her nation, her
bright, golden sides, and peculiar American expression
(for I contend that there is a national and an
individual expression to every vessel, as strongly
marked and as easily defined as the expression of
every human countenance,) unhesitatingly indicated
her country.

My curiosity was increased on entering the
roomy, richly wrought, and tastefully furnished cabin.
The fairest lady in England's halls might
have coveted it for her boudoir. Here were
every luxury and comfort, that wealth and taste
combined could procure. A piano, on which lay
music books, a flute, clarionet, and a guitar of curious
workmanship, occupied one side of the cabin;
on the other stood a sofa, most temptingly inviting
a loll, and a centre table was strewed with pamphlets,
novels, periodicals, poetry, and a hundred little
unwritten elegancies. The transom was ingeniously
constructed, so as to form a superb sideboard,
richly covered with plate, but more richly lined, as
we subsequently had an opportunity of knowing, to
our hearts' content. Three doors with mirrored

pannelling gave egress from the cabin, forward, to
two state rooms and a dining-room, furnished in the
same style of magnificence.

My companions shared equally in my surprise,
at the novelty of every thing around us. I felt a
disposition to return to our ship, fearing that our
proposition to take passage in the brig might be
unacceptable. But before I had come to a decision,
Mr. F., our first officer, with true sailor-like
bluntness, had communicated our situation and
wishes. “Certainly,” replied the captain, “but I
regret that my state-rooms will not accommodate
more than five or six; the others will have to swing
hammocks between decks; if they will do this,
they are welcome.” Although this compliance with
our request was given with the utmost cheerfulness
and alacrity, I felt that our taking passage with
him would be inconvenient and a gross intrusion;
and would have declined saying, that some other
vessel would answer our purpose equally well. He
would not listen to me but in so urgent a manner
requested us to take passage with him, that we reluctantly
consented, and immediately returned to
our ship to relate our success, and transfer our baggage
to the brig. Fortunately, but five of our party,
including two ladies, were anxious to leave the
ship; the remainder choosing rather to remain on
board, and go up to town in her, as the captain flattered
them with the promise of an early arrival
should the wind hold fair.

In less than ten minutes we had bidden farewell,
and wished a speedy passage to our fellow-passengers,

who had so rashly refused to “give up the
ship” and were on our way with “bag and baggage”
to the brig, which now and then rose proudly upon
a long sea, and then slowly and gracefully settled
into its yielding bosom.

We had been on board but a short time when the
Whale, which had already towed four ships and a
brig, one at a time, over the bar, leaving each half a
league up the passage, came bearing down upon us.
In an incredibly short time she brought to ahead of
us, and in less than five minutes had our brig firmly
secured to her by two hawsers, with about fifty fathoms
play.

In the course of half an hour, we arrived where
the five other vessels, which were to accompany us
in tow, were anchored. More than two hours were
consumed in properly securing the vessels to the
tow-boat. Our brig was lashed to her larboard, and
the huge British Indiaman, mentioned in my last
letter, to her starboard side. Two ships sociably
followed, about a cable's length astern, and a Spanish
brig and a French ship, about one hundred
yards astern of these, brought up the rear.

These arrangements completed, the command to
“go ahead” was given, and slowly, one after the
other, the captive fleet yielded to the immense
power of the high-pressure engine. Gradually our
motion through the water became more and more
rapid, till we moved along at the rate of seven knots
an hour. The appearance our convoy presented,
was novel and sublime. It was like a triumph!
The wind though light, was fair, and every vessel

was covered with clouds of snowy canvass. The
loud, deep, incessant booming from the tow-boat—
the black and dense masses of smoke rolling up
and curling and wreathing around the lofty white
sails, then shooting off horizontally through the air,
leaving a long cloudy galaxy astern, contributed
greatly to the novelty of this extraordinary scene.
We are now within twenty miles of the city of
Frenchmen and garlic soups, steamboats and yellow
fever, negroes and quadroons, hells and convents,
soldiers and slaves, and things, and people of every
language and kindred, nation and tribe upon the face
of the earth. From this place you will receive my
next letter, wherein perchance you may find a solution
of the mystery thrown around our beautiful
vessel.