by Mayne Reid
peculiarities in the character ofthe energetic self-relying men of the world, that then peopledCalifornia.
In the "Plaza de Toros"--witnesses of the scenes I have attempted todescribe--were many young girls belonging to the place, as well asothers, from Mexico, Chili, and Peru. During the continuance of thatseries of exciting scenes--which included the killing of one person byempalement upon a bull, the mutilation of another by the claws of agrizzly bear, and the destruction of the bear itself, by a volley ofrevolvers--these interesting damsels never allowed the lights of theircigarritos to become extinguished; but calmly smoked on, as tranquil andunconcerned, as if they had been simply assisting at the ceremony of a"fandango!"
Volume One, Chapter XXVI.
STORMY'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
In my rambles about Sonora and its vicinity, when seeking amusement, onwhat is called the "first day of the week." I was generally accompaniedby Stormy Jack.
During my early acquaintance with the old sailor, I was too young tohave formed a correct opinion of his character; and my respect for him,was based entirely upon instinct.
Now that I was older, and possessed of a more mature judgment, thatrespect--instead of having diminished--had increased to such a degree,as to deserve the name of admiration. I could not help admiring hismany good qualities. He loved truth; and spoke it whenever he saidanything. He was frank, honest, sociable, and generous. He had anabhorrence of all that was mean--combined with a genuine love for fairplay and even-handed justice of every kind. He was in the habit ofexpressing his opinions so frankly, that, on the slightest acquaintance,every honest man became his friend, and every dishonest one his enemy.
Stormy was, in truth, one of nature's noblemen--such a one as is seldommet with, and never forgotten. He was instinctively a gentleman; andthe many long years in which he had been associated, with those who arethought to be lowest in the scale of civilisation, had not overcome hisnatural inclination.
Stormy was strong on all points but one; and that was, in the resistinghis appetite for strong drink. To this he too often yielded.
"Do not think, Rowley," said he one evening, when I chanced to allude tothis subject, "that I can't keep from thinking, if I tried. I neverdrank when I was young: for I had some hope and ambition then; and Icould see the silliness of giving way to such a habit. It is only sinceI have become old Stormy Jack, and too old for my bad habits to be ofany consequence to myself, or any one else. No, Rowley, it don'tsignify much now, how often I get drunk--either in my mind or legs.When I was young, like you, I had no one to teach me manners--except theworld; and it did larn me some. Wherever I went, every one appeared tothink it was their business to teach me manners; and the way they wentabout it, was not always very gentle. I've seen hard times in thisworld, Rowley, my lad."
"I have no doubt of it, Stormy," said I, "for you have that appearance.You look as though, man, fate, and time had all used you roughly."
"And so they have. I've nobody to thank for anything, unless it is theAlmighty, for having given me health and strength to out-live what Ihave passed through; and I'm not sartin that I should be thankful forthat. If you like, Rowley, I'll tell you something of my history; andit'll give you an idea of the way the world has used me."
"I should like it much."
"Here goes then! The first thing I can remember, is a father who usedto get drunk in the legs; and the second, a mother who would as oftenget drunk in the head.
"As my father, when intoxicated, could not stand on his feet, nor movefrom the place in which he chanced to be, my mother would take advantageof his helplessness; and used to teach him manners, in a way that alwayskept his countenance covered with scratches, cuts, and bruises. I mayadd, that she served myself in a very similar manner. If ever either myfather, or I, were seen in the streets without a fresh wound on ourfaces, the neighbours knew that there was no money in the house, oranything that would be received at a pawn shop for so much as sixpence.The soundness of our skins would prove the scarcity of cash in myfather's establishment; or as they say here in Californy, that we were`hard up.'
"About the time I was thirteen years of age, my parents discovered thatthey could no longer maintain themselves, much less me; and they sought,and found, a home in the work-house--whither I was taken along withthem.
"Both died in the work-house the year after entering it; and I wasapprenticed, or I might say hired out, to a baker.
"In this situation, I had a world of work to do. I had to sit up allnight, helping the journeymen to make the bread; and then I had to goout for two or three hours every morning--with a heavy basket of loaveson my head, to be delivered to the customers living here and there. Inaddition to this hard work, I was nearly starved. The only time I couldget enough to eat, was when I was out on my rounds with the bread, whenI could steal a little scrap from each loaf--in such a way that themorsel wouldn't be missed.
"I've not yet told you, that my native place is London; and if you knowanything of that city, you may have some idea of the life I lived when achild, with two miserable, poor, and drunken parents.
"Well, I staid with the baker above two years; and though I was nearlykilled with hard work and want of food--as well as sleep--that, perhaps,wasn't the most unhappy part of my life. There was a worse time instore for me.
"The baker and his wife, who owned and ill-treated me, had a little girlin the house--a slavey they had taken from the same work-house fromwhich they had fetched me. This girl wasn't treated any better than Iwas; and the only happy moments either of us ever had, were when wecould be together, and freely express our opinions of our master andmistress--both of whom behaved equally bad to us--if anything, the womanthe worst. The girl and I used to encourage each other with hopes ofbetter times.
"I had seen many little girls in the streets, dressed very fine, andlooking clean, well-fed, and happy; and some of them I thought verybeautiful. But none of them appeared so beautiful, as the one who wasbeing worked and starved to death in the same house with myself--thoughher dress was nothing but a lot of dirty rags.
"By the time I had got to be sixteen years of age, I was too much of aman to stand the ill-usage of the baker and his wife any longer; and Idetermined to run away.
"I did not like to leave behind me my companion in misery; but as Ithought, that, in a few weeks I should make a little fortune, and beable to find her a better home, we became reconciled to the idea ofparting with one another.
"One morning I bade her good-bye; and started off with the basket ofbread on my head to go my rounds.
"When I had nearly completed the delivery, and had left with differentcustomers all but the last loaf, I set down the basket, took this loafunder my arm, and was free.
"I went straight to the docks to look out for something; and, before theday was over, I found a situation aboard a schooner in the coal trade--that was about to sail for Newcastle.
"The skipper of this vessel was also its owner; and himself and hisfamily used it as their regular home.
"I was determined to please this man--not only by doing my duty, but asmuch more as I could. I succeeded in gaining his good will.
"We went to Newcastle, took in a cargo; and by the time we reachedLondon again, the skipper would not have been willing to part with me,had I desired to leave him. When we got back to London, he gave meliberty to come ashore; and made me a present of half-a-crown, to spendas I liked.
"It was the largest sum of money I had ever owned; and, with it in mypossession, I thought that the time when I might take my little fellowservant away from the hard life she was leading, could not be far away.I determined not to spend one penny of the money upon myself; but to goashore at once, and make a bold push towards getting the girl away fromthe place where she was staying.
"I told the skipper all about her--what sort of a home I had left herin--and the cruelties she was still likely to be enduring.
"He talked to his wife; and after they had asked me a good manyquestions: as to whether the
girl was well-behaved, and used no badlanguage--they told me that I might bring her aboard the vessel thenlying in the river; and that she might look after the three children,and do anything else to make herself useful.
"I started off on my errand, in better spirits than I had ever been inbefore. I was afraid to go near the baker's house, for fear I should beseen from the shop and might have trouble in getting away again: for Ihad been regularly bound as his apprentice. So I watched thepublic-house--where I knew the girl would be sure to come for the supperbeer in the evening.
"After I had been looking out for about half an hour, she came, lookingmore beautiful, more ragged and dirty, than when I had last seen her,four weeks before.
"`Come on, Ann!' I cried. (Ann was her name.) `Come on! Fling awayyour jug, and follow me!'
"I ran up to her, while I was speaking.
"She dropped the jug--not because I had told her to do so--but from theexcitement of her surprise at seeing me. It fell out of her hands onthe pavement; and was broken to pieces.
"`Follow me,' said I, `I've another home for you.'
"She gave one glance at the broken jug; and probably thought of hermistress, and the beating she would be sure to get, should she go homewithout the jug and the supper beer. That thought decided her. Shethen took my hand; and we started off towards the river.
"I am going to cut my story short," said Stormy, after a pause--duringwhich he seemed to suffer from some painful reflection. "For nine yearsI worked for that girl. Part of the time I was getting good wages--asthe second mate of a large ship, running to Charleston, in the UnitedStates; and all of my money was spent in keeping Ann in a good home, andin having her taught to read and write, and behave herself like a lady.
"To deny myself every comfort, for the sake of saving money for her, wasmy greatest pleasure. I have often crossed the Atlantic without properclothing; so that Ann might be placed beyond the danger of want, while Iwas gone.
"During these nine years, I drank no grog, nor liquor of any kind. Iwould not even take a glass at the expense of any of my messmates,because I would be expected to stand a glass in return; and there wasmore pleasure in saving the money for Ann, than in spending it on whatcould only injure me. I have often walked the cold wet decks with myfeet freezing for the want of a pair of socks and good boots--becausethese things would cost money: and all that I could make I wished tospend only for the benefit of Ann, who was always in my thoughts--theidol of my soul.
"While making my voyages across the Atlantic, I got some of mycompanions to learn me to read and write a little. I worked very hardat this, when I could find time. There were two reasons for my wishingto be able to write: the first, because I had some desire to learn on myown account; and the other reason was, that when I should marry Ann, Idid not wish her to have a husband who could not write his own name.
"When I had got to be about twenty-three years of age, I began to thinkof getting married. I was earning good wages; and had saved enoughmoney to furnish a little house for Ann. Just about that time, however,I noticed she had begun to treat me with a little coldness. I had beenso very saving of my money, that I always went rather shabbily dressed;and I at first thought that she might be a little ashamed of myappearance. I knew that this would not be right on her part; but I alsoknew that women have got vanity; and that they cannot help a feeling ofthat kind. I could not think that it was possible for Ann not to loveme--after the many sacrifices I had made for her--for I deserved herlove, and had fairly earned it. I thought that if there was a manworthy of being loved by her, and having her for his wife, I was thatman, for I had done all that I was able to gain her good will; and noone can do more. I was under the belief, too, that she loved me: forshe had many a time told me so. You may imagine, then, how I was takenaback, when one time that I returned from a voyage to give her all themoney I had earned, I found that she treated me very coldly; and thatevery day she grew colder and colder, and seemed as if she only wantedto get clear of my company."
At this interesting crisis of his story, Stormy was interrupted by theentrance of two of our mining neighbours, who came into our tent to havea quiet game of "uker" along with us.
Volume One, Chapter XXVII.
ANN.
I had been much interested in Stormy's story of his early life; and thenext evening, I went over to his tent, and taking a seat upon theground, requested him to continue it.
"All right, Rowley, my boy," said he, in answer to my appeal. "Ibelieve that I left off last night, where the girl, after my havingworked nine years for her, had begun to treat me with coldness.
"Well, on becoming sure of this, I determined to find out the reason. Iknew there must be something wrong; and I made up my mind to find outwhat it was--though it might lead to the breaking up of all my fineprospects. One day, when my ship was about to start on a new trip toCharleston, I settled scores with the captain, and left her. Ann wasunder the belief, that I had gone off in the vessel; but she wasmistaken. I had stopped behind, to keep an eye on herself. A fewmonths before, I had given her some money--to enable her to go intopartnership with a widow, in keeping a little stationery and toy shop--and she was now in that business. My scheme was to keep an eye on theshop; and see what was going on. I had not been very long playing spy,before I found out the lay of the land. A young fellow of a swellishappearance, used to pay visits to the shop, nearly every day of theweek. He came in the evening; and Ann would go out with him to theatresand dancing places.
"I watched the fellow to his home, or to his lodgings--for he lived in atwo-pair back; and from there I tracked him to his place of business. Ifound that he was what in London is called a `clerk.' He was a thingunworthy of Ann; but, of course, that being the case, he did not knowit; and I could see from his vain looks that he thought sufficiently ofhimself--too much to marry Ann. From what I saw, I had no doubt that hewas deceiving her.
"I scarce knew what to do: for there was no use in telling the girl thatshe was being deceived. She would not have believed me.
"If she had believed me, and given the puppy up, it would not have mademuch difference to me. My confidence in her was gone. I could have hadit no more. She had acted ungrateful to me--by giving her preference toa conceited swell--who took her about to places of amusement, where mendo not take young girls, whom they intend afterwards to marry. Ann hadproved herself unworthy of a love like mine. I had toiled for her, andloved her, for nine long years; and this was the return.
"My good resolutions all forsook me--by the shock which her ingratitudegave me; and ever since that time, I've been only Stormy Jack, andnothing more. You know what he is." Stormy once more relapsed intosilence, as if his story had been concluded. More deeply interestedthan ever, I desired to know more. In answer, to my request, he resumedhis narrative.
"Well," continued he. "My next voyage was a long one. I made the tripto India, and was gone fourteen months; but on my return, at the end ofthat time, I had not forgotten Ann. I still loved her--although I knewthat she could never be my wife. Even had she consented, my pride wouldnot allow of my marrying her now.
"When I got back from India, I went to the little shop to enquire forher. She was no longer there. I found her in the work-house--the samefrom which she had been taken when a child. She was the mother of achild, seven months old; and had never been married. I determined toteach her manners. You may think it strange, Rowley, but I was now,more than ever, resolved she should love me. It would be somesatisfaction for what I had suffered on her account. I knew my motivewasn't altogether as it ought to have been, but I could not help doingas I did.
"When paid the wages, owing me by the East Indiaman, I had abouttwenty-five pounds to the good; and, with this money, I took Ann out ofthe work-house, and placed her in a comfortable home. I acted, to allappearance, as kindly to her, and seemed as affectionate as I had everbeen; and I even gave her more of my company than I had ever donebefore. When she came to contrast my conduct
with that of the heartlessvillain who had ruined and deserted her, she could not help loving me.On her knees, and with tears in her eyes, she confessed her folly, andsorrow for the past; and prayed for me to forgive her.
"`Of course, I forgive you, Ann,' said I, `or I would not have returnedto you.'
"`And will you love me as much as you once did?' she then asked.
"`Certainly I will.'
"`John,' she said, `you are the most noble-minded man in the world; andI only begin to know your real worth. Oh! what a fool I have been, notto have known it before! You are better than all other men on theearth!'
"Ann had got over the folly of her girlhood. The sorrows which she hadsuffered during the last few months, had taught her wisdom, and broughtrepentance; and she now believed, that such love as I had offered herwas of some value.
"I visited her every day; and appeared to take such an interest in thewelfare, both of herself and her child, that I, at length, becamecertain that she loved me. She could not have helped it, had she tried.Poor girl! she fancied she was going to be happy again; but she wasmistaken.
"When my money was all spent, I prepared to take leave of her. Beforegoing, I told her the truth, that I had loved her, ever since she was achild; and that I ever would; but that I could never make her my wife.After what had transpired, I could never be happy as her husband.
"`I shall never forget you, Ann,' said I. `Whenever I have a pound inmy pocket, you are welcome to fifteen shillings of it; but _my_happiness, for this world, you have entirely destroyed; and I can nevermarry you, as I once intended to do. You know the many years that Itoiled for you;