CHAPTER VII. A GENTLEMAN AT LARGE.
It is not my intention to record any of the ordinary incidents of a seavoyage: the subject is too hackneyed and too trite; and besides,when the topic is seasickness, it is infectious and the descriptionnauseates. _Hominem pagina nostra sapit_. The proper study of mankindis man; human nature is what I delight in contemplating; I love to traceout and delineate the springs of human action.
Mr. Slick and Mr. Hopewell are both studies. The former is a perfectmaster of certain chords; He has practised upon them, not forphilosophical, but for mercenary purposes. He knows the depth,and strength, and tone of vanity, curiosity, pride, envy, avarice,superstition, nationality, and local and general prejudice. He haslearned the effect of these, not because they contribute to make himwiser, but because they make him richer; not to enable him to regulatehis conduct in life, but to promote and secure the increase of histrade.
Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, has studied the human heart as aphilanthropist, as a man whose business it was to minister to it,to cultivate and improve it. His views are more sound and morecomprehensive than those of the other's, and his objects are more noble.They are both extraordinary men.
They differed, however, materially in their opinion of England and itsinstitutions. Mr. Slick evidently viewed them with prejudice. Whetherthis arose from the supercilious manner of English tourists in America,or from the ridicule they have thrown upon Republican society, in thebooks of travels they have published, after their return to Europe,I could not discover; but it soon became manifest to me, that GreatBritain did not stand so high in his estimation, as the colonies did.
Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, from early associations, cherished afeeling of regard and respect for England; and when his opinion wasasked, he always gave it with great frankness and impartiality. Whenthere was any thing he could not approve of, it appeared to be a subjectof regret to him; whereas, the other seized upon it at once as a matterof great exultation. The first sight we had of land naturally called outtheir respective opinions.
As we were pacing the deck speculating upon the probable termination ofour voyage, Cape Clear was descried by the look-out on the mast-head.
"Hallo! what's that? why if it ain't land ahead, as I'm alive!" saidMr. Slick. "Well, come this is pleasant too, we have made amost aneverlastin' short voyage of it, hante we; and I must say I like landquite as well as sea, in a giniral way, arter all; but, Squire, here isthe first Britisher. That critter that's a clawin' up the side of thevessel like a cat, is the pilot: now do for goodness gracious sake, jistlook at him, and hear him."
"What port?"
"Liverpool."
"Keep her up a point."
"Do you hear that, Squire? that's English, or what we used to call tosinging school short metre. The critter don't say a word, even as muchas 'by your leave'; but jist goes and takes his post, and don't ask thename of the vessel, or pass the time o' day with the Captin. That ain'tin the bill, it tante paid for that; if it was, he'd off cap, touchthe deck three times with his forehead, and '_Slam_' like a Turk to hisHonour the Skipper.
"There's plenty of civility here to England if you pay for it: you canbuy as much in five minits, as will make you sick for a week; but if youdon't pay for it, you not only won't get it, but you get sarce insteadof it, that is if you are fool enough to stand and have it rubbed in.They are as cold as Presbyterian charity, and mean enough to put the sunin eclipse, are the English. They hante set up the brazen image hereto worship, but they've got a gold one, and that they do adore and nomistake; it's all pay, pay, pay; parquisite, parquisite, parquisite;extortion, extortion, extortion. There is a whole pack of yelpin' devilsto your heels here, for everlastinly a cringin', fawnin' and coaxin',or snarlin', grumblin' or bullyin' you out of your money. There's theboatman, and tide-waiter, and porter, and custom-er, and truck man assoon as you land; and the sarvant-man, and chamber-gall, and boots, andporter again to the inn. And then on the road, there is trunk-lifter,and coachman, and guard, and beggar-man, and a critter that opens thecoach door, that they calls a waterman, cause he is infarnal dirty, andnever sees water. They are jist like a snarl o' snakes, their name islegion and there ain't no eend to 'em.
"The only thing you get for nothin' here is rain and smoke, the rumatiz,and scorny airs. If you could buy an Englishman at what he was worth,and sell him at his own valiation, he would realise as much as a nigger,and would be worth tradin' in, that's a fact; but as it is he ain'tworth nothin', there is no market for such critters, no one would buyhim at no price. A Scotchman is wus, for he is prouder and meaner.Pat ain't no better nother; he ain't proud, cause he has a hole in hisbreeches and another in his elbow, and he thinks pride won't patch 'em,and he ain't mean cause he hante got nothin' to be mean with. Whether ittakes nine tailors to make a man, I can't jist exactly say, but thisI will say, and take my davy of it too, that it would take three suchgoneys as these to make a pattern for one of our rael genu_wine_ freeand enlightened citizens, and then I wouldn't swap without large boot,I tell you. Guess I'll go, and pack up my fixing and have 'em ready toland."
He now went below, leaving Mr. Hopewell and myself on the deck. Allthis tirade of Mr. Slick was uttered in the hearing of the pilot, andintended rather for his conciliation, than my instruction. The pilot wasimmoveable; he let the cause against his country go "by default," andleft us to our process of "inquiry;" but when Mr. Slick was in theact of descending to the cabin, he turned and gave him a look ofadmeasurement, very similar to that which a grazier gives an ox; a lookwhich estimates the weight and value of the animal, and I am bound toadmit, that the result of that "sizing or laying" as it is technicallycalled, was by no means favourable to the Attache".
Mr. Hopewell had evidently not attended to it; his eye was fixed onthe bold and precipitous shore of Wales, and the lofty summits of theeverlasting hills, that in the distance, aspired to a companionship withthe clouds. I took my seat at a little distance from him and surveyedthe scene with mingled feelings of curiosity and admiration, until athick volume of sulphureous smoke from the copper furnaces of Angleseyintercepted our view.
"Squire," said he, "it is impossible for us to contemplate this country,that now lies before us, without strong emotion. It is our fatherland.I recollect when I was a colonist, as you are, we were in the habit ofapplying to it, in common with Englishmen, that endearing appellation"Home," and I believe you still continue to do so in the provinces.Our nursery tales, taught our infant lips to lisp in English, and theballads, that first exercised our memories, stored the mind with thetraditions of our forefathers; their literature was our literature,their religion our religion, their history our history. The battle ofHastings, the murder of Becket, the signature of Runymede, the executionat Whitehall; the divines, the poets, the orators, the heroes, themartyrs, each and all were familiar to us.
"In approaching this country now, after a lapse of many, many years,and approaching it too for the last time, for mine eyes shall see it nomore, I cannot describe to you the feelings that agitate my heart. I goto visit the tombs of my ancestors; I go to my home, and my home knowethme no more. Great and good, and brave and free are the English; and mayGod grant that they may ever continue so!"
"I cordially join in that prayer, Sir," said I; "you have a countryof your own. The old colonies having ripened into maturity, formed adistinct and separate family, in the great community of mankind. You arenow a nation of yourselves, and your attachment to England, is of coursesubordinate to that of your own country; you view it as the place thatwas in days of yore the home of your forefathers; we regard it as thepaternal estate, continuing to call it 'Home' as you have just nowobserved. We owe it a debt of gratitude that not only cannot be repaid,but is too great for expression. Their armies protect us within, andtheir fleets defend us, and our commerce without. Their government isnot only paternal and indulgent, but is wholly gratuitous. We neitherpay these forces, nor feed them, nor clothe them. We not only raise notaxes, but are not expected to do so. The ble
ssings of true religion arediffused among us, by the pious liberality of England, and a collegiateestablishment at Windsor, supported by British friends, has for yearssupplied the Church, the Bar and the Legislature with scholars andgentlemen. Where the national funds have failed, private contributionhas volunteered its aid, and means are never wanting for any useful orbeneficial object.
"Our condition is a most enviable one. The history of the world has noexample to offer of such noble disinterestedness and such liberal rule,as that exhibited by Great Britain to her colonies. If the policy of theColonial Office is not always good (which I fear is too much to say)it is ever liberal; and if we do not mutually derive all the benefitwe might from the connexion, _we_, at least, reap more solid advantagesthan we have a right to expect, and more, I am afraid, than our conductalways deserves. I hope the Secretary for the Colonies may have theadvantage of making your acquaintance, Sir. Your experience is so great,you might give him a vast deal of useful information, which he couldobtain from no one else.
"Minister," said Mr. Slick, who had just mounted the companion-ladder,"will your honour," touching his hat, "jist look at your honour'splunder, and see it's all right; remember me, Sir; thank your honour.This way, Sir; let me help your honour down. Remember me again, Sir.Thank your honour. Now you may go and break your neck, your honour, assoon as you please; for I've got all out of you I can squeeze, that's afact. That's English, Squire--that's English servility, which they callcivility, and English meanness and beggin', which they call parquisite.Who was that you wanted to see the Minister, that I heerd you a talkin'of when I come on deck?"
"The Secretary of the Colonies," I said.
"Oh for goodness sake don't send that crittur to him," said he, "orminister will have to pay him for his visit, more, p'raps, than hecan afford. John Russell, that had the ribbons afore him, appointed asettler as a member of Legislative Council to Prince Edward's Island,a berth that has no pay, that takes a feller three months a year fromhome, and has a horrid sight to do; and what do you think he did? Nowjist guess. You give it up, do you? Well, you might as well, for if youwas five Yankees biled down to one, you wouldn't guess it. 'RememberSecretary's clerk,' says he, a touchin' of his hat, 'give him a littletip of thirty pound sterling, your honour.' Well, colonist had a drop ofYankee blood in him, which was about one third molasses, and, of course,one third more of a man than they commonly is, and so he jist ups andsays, 'I'll see you and your clerk to Jericho beyond Jordan fust. Theoffice ain't worth the fee. Take it and sell it to some one else thathas more money nor wit.' He did, upon my soul."
"No, don't send State-Secretary to Minister, send him to me at eleveno'clock to-night, for I shall be the toploftiest feller about that timeyou've seen this while past, I tell you. Stop till I touch land oncemore, that's all; the way I'll stretch my legs ain't no matter."
He then uttered the negro ejaculation "chah!--chah!" and putting hisarms a-kimbo, danced in a most extraordinary style to the music of asong, which he gave with great expression:
"Oh hab you nebber heerd ob de battle ob Orleens, Where de dandy Yankee lads gave de Britishers de beans; Oh de Louisiana boys dey did it pretty slick, When dey cotch ole Packenham and rode him up a creek. Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey, Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey.
"Oh yes, send Secretary to me at eleven or twelve to-night, I'll be intune then, jist about up to concart pitch. I'll smoke with him, or drinkwith him, or swap stories with him, or wrastle with him, or make a foolof him, or lick him, or any thing he likes; and when I've done, I'llrise up, tweak the fore-top-knot of my head by the nose, bow pretty, andsay 'Remember me, your honour? Don't forget the tip?' Lord, how I longto walk into some o' these chaps, and give 'em the beans! and I willyet afore I'm many days older, hang me if I don't. I shall bust, I doexpect; and if I do, them that ain't drownded will be scalded, I know.Chah!--chah!
"Oh de British name is Bull, and de French name is Frog, And noisy critters too, when a braggin' on a log,-- But I is an alligator, a floatin' down stream. And I'll chaw both the bullies up, as I would an ice-cream: Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee, Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee.
"Yes, I've been pent up in that drawer-like lookin' berth, till I'vegrowed like a pine-tree with its branches off--straight up and down. Mylegs is like a pair of compasses that's got wet; they are rusty on thehinges, and won't work. I'll play leapfrog up the street, over everyfeller's head, till I get to the Liners' Hotel; I hope I may be shot ifI don't. Jube, you villain, stand still there on the deck, and hold upstiff, you nigger. Warny once--warny twice--warny three times; now Icome."
And he ran forward, and putting a hand on each shoulder, jumped overhim.
"Turn round agin, you young sucking Satan, you; and don't give one miteor morsel, or you might 'break massa's precious neck,' p'raps. Warnyonce--warny twice--warny three times."
And he repeated the feat again.
"That's the way I'll shin it up street, with a hop, skip and a jump.Won't I make Old Bull stare, when he finds his head under my coat tails,and me jist makin' a lever of him? He'll think he has run foul of asnag, _I_ know. Lord, I'll shack right over their heads, as they do overa colonist; only when they do, they never say warny wunst, cuss 'em,they arn't civil enough for that. They arn't paid for it--there is noparquisite to be got by it. Won't I tuck in the Champaine to-night,that's all, till I get the steam up right, and make the paddles work?Won't I have a lark of the rael Kentuck breed? Won't I trip up apoliceman's heels, thunder the knockers of the street doors, and ringthe bells and leave no card? Won't I have a shy at a lamp, and then offhot foot to the hotel? Won't I say, 'Waiter, how dare you do that?'
"'What, Sir?'
"'Tread on my foot.'
"'I didn't, Sir.'
"'You did, Sir. Take that!' knock him down like wink, and help him up onhis feet agin with a kick on his western eend. Kiss the barmaid, aboutthe quickest and wickedest she ever heerd tell of, and then off to bedas sober as a judge. 'Chambermaid, bring a pan of coals and air my bed.''Yes, Sir.' Foller close at her heels, jist put a hand on each shortrib, tickle her till she spills the red hot coals all over the floor,and begins to cry over 'em to put 'em out, whip the candle out of herhand, leave her to her lamentations, and then off to roost in no time.And when I get there, won't I strike out all abroad--take up the room ofthree men with their clothes on--lay all over and over the bed, and feelonce more I am a free man and a '_Gentleman at large_.'"
The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete Page 7