52. CHAPTER LII.
I HAVE made some mention of the “galley,” or great
stove for the steerage passengers, which was planted over
the main hatches.
During the outward-bound passage, there were so few
occupants of the steerage, that they had abundant room to
do their cooking at this galley. But it was otherwise now;
for we had four or five hundred in the steerage; and all
their cooking was to be done by one fire; a pretty large one,
to be sure, but, nevertheless, small enough, considering the
number to be accommodated, and the fact that the fire was
only to be kindled at certain hours.
For the emigrants in these ships are under a sort of martial-law;
and in all their affairs are regulated by the despotic
ordinances of the captain. And though it is evident,
that to a certain extent this is necessary, and even indispensable;
yet, as at sea no appeal lies beyond the captain, he
too often makes unscrupulous use of his power. And as for
going to law with him at the end of the voyage, you might
as well go to law with the Czar of Russia.
At making the fire, the emigrants take turns; as it is
often very disagreeable work, owing to the pitching of the
ship, and the heaving of the spray over the uncovered “galley.”
Whenever I had the morning watch, from four to
eight, I was sure to see some poor fellow crawling up from
below about day-break, and go to groping over the deck after
bits of rope-yarn, or tarred canvas, for kindling-stuff. And
no sooner would the fire be fairly made, than up came the
old women, and men, and children; each armed with an
iron pot or saucepan; and invariably a great tumult ensued,
as to whose turn to cook came next; sometimes the
more quarrelsome would fight, and upset each other's pots
and pans.
Once, an English lad came up with a little coffee-pot,
which he managed to crowd in between two pans. This
done, he went below. Soon after a great strapping Irishman,
in knee-breeches and bare calves, made his appearance;
and eying the row of things on the fire, asked whose
coffee-pot that was; upon being told, he removed it, and
put his own in its place; saying something about that individual
place belonging to him; and with that, he turned
aside.
Not long after, the boy came along again; and seeing
his pot removed, made a violent exclamation, and replaced
it; which the Irishman no sooner perceived, than he rushed
at him, with his fists doubled. The boy snatched up the
boiling coffee, and spirted its contents all about the fellow's
bare legs; which incontinently began to dance involuntary
hornpipes and fandangoes, as a preliminary to giving chase
to the boy, who by this time, however, had decamped.
Many similar scenes occurred every day; nor did a single
day pass, but scores of the poor people got no chance whatever
to do their cooking.
This was bad enough; but it was a still more miserable
thing, to see these poor emigrants wrangling and fighting
together for the want of the most ordinary accommodations.
But thus it is, that the very hardships to which such beings
are subjected, instead of uniting them, only tends, by imbittering
their tempers, to set them against each other; and
thus they themselves drive the strongest rivet into the chain,
by which their social superiors hold them subject.
It was with a most reluctant hand, that every evening
in the second dog-watch, at the mate's command, I would
march up to the fire, and giving notice to the assembled
crowd, that the time was come to extinguish it, would
dash it out with my bucket of salt water; though many,
who had long waited for a chance to cook, had now to go
away disappointed.
The staple food of the Irish emigrants was oatmeal and
water, boiled into what is sometimes called mush;
by the
Dutch is known as supaan; by sailors burgoo; by the New
Englanders hasty-pudding; in which hasty-pudding, by
the way, the poet Barlow found the materials for a sort of
epic.
Some of the steerage passengers, however, were provided
with sea-biscuit, and other perennial food, that was eatable
all the year round, fire or no fire.
There were several, moreover, who seemed better to do
in the world than the rest; who were well furnished with
hams, cheese, Bologna sausages, Dutch herrings, alewives,
and other delicacies adapted to the contingencies of a voyager
in the steerage.
There was a little old Englishman on board, who had
been a grocer ashore, whose greasy trunks seemed all pantries;
and he was constantly using himself for a cupboard,
by transferring their contents into his own interior. He was
a little light of head, I always thought. He particularly
doated on his long strings of sausages; and would sometimes
take them out, and play with them, wreathing them round
him, like an Indian juggler with charmed snakes. What
with this diversion, and eating his cheese, and helping himself
from an inexhaustible junk bottle, and smoking his pipe,
and meditating, this crack-pated grocer made time jog along
with him at a tolerably easy pace.
But by far the most considerable man in the steerage, in
point of pecuniary circumstances at least, was a slender little
pale-faced English tailor, who it seemed had engaged a
passage for himself and wife in some imaginary section of
the ship, called the second cabin, which was feigned to combine
the comforts of the first cabin with the cheapness of
the steerage. But it turned out that this second cabin was
comprised in the after part of the steerage itself, with nothing
intervening but a name. So to his no small disgust, he
found himself herding with the rabble; and his complaints
to the captain were unheeded.
This luckless tailor was tormented the whole voyage by
his wife, who was young and handsome; just such a beauty
as farmers'-boys fall in love with; she had bright eyes, and
red cheeks, and looked plump and happy.
She was a sad coquette; and did not turn away, as she
was bound to do, from the dandy glances of the cabin bucks,
who ogled her through their double-barreled opera-glasses.
This enraged the tailor past telling; he would remonstrate
with his wife, and scold her; and lay his matrimonial commands
upon her, to go below instantly, out of sight. But
the lady was not to be tyrannized over; and so she told him.
Meantime, the bucks would be still framing her in their
lenses, mightily enjoying the fun. The last resource of the
poor tailor would be, to start up, and make a dash at the
rogues, with clenched fists; but upon getting as far as the
mainmast, the mate would accost him from over the rope
that divided them, and beg leave to communicate the fact,
that he could come no further.
This unfortunate tailor was also a fiddler; and when
fairly baited into desperation, would rush for his instrument,
and try to get rid of his wrath by playing the most savage,
remorseless airs he could think of.
While thus employed, perhaps his wife would accost
him—
“Billy, my dear;” and lay her soft hand on his shoulder.
But Billy, he only fiddled the harder.
“Billy, my love!”
The bow went faster and faster.
“Come, now, Billy, my dear little fellow, let's make it
all up;” and she bent over his knees, looking bewitchingly
up at him, with her irresistible eyes.
Down went fiddle and bow; and the couple would sit together
for an hour or two, as pleasant and affectionate as
possible.
But the next day, the chances were, that the old feud
would be renewed, which was certain to be the case at the
first glimpse of an opera-glass from the cabin.
