American Notes for General Circulation

Home > Other > American Notes for General Circulation > Page 34
American Notes for General Circulation Page 34

by Dickens, Chales


  importance in our barren calendar, that afterwards we dated from

  the dolphin, and made the day on which he died, an era.

  Besides all this, when we were five or six days out, there began to

  be much talk of icebergs, of which wandering islands an unusual

  number had been seen by the vessels that had come into New York a

  day or two before we left that port, and of whose dangerous

  neighbourhood we were warned by the sudden coldness of the weather,

  and the sinking of the mercury in the barometer. While these

  tokens lasted, a double look-out was kept, and many dismal tales

  were whispered after dark, of ships that had struck upon the ice

  and gone down in the night; but the wind obliging us to hold a

  southward course, we saw none of them, and the weather soon grew

  bright and warm again.

  The observation every day at noon, and the subsequent working of

  the vessel's course, was, as may be supposed, a feature in our

  lives of paramount importance; nor were there wanting (as there

  never are) sagacious doubters of the captain's calculations, who,

  so soon as his back was turned, would, in the absence of compasses,

  measure the chart with bits of string, and ends of pockethandkerchiefs,

  and points of snuffers, and clearly prove him to be

  wrong by an odd thousand miles or so. It was very edifying to see

  these unbelievers shake their heads and frown, and hear them hold

  forth strongly upon navigation: not that they knew anything about

  it, but that they always mistrusted the captain in calm weather, or

  when the wind was adverse. Indeed, the mercury itself is not so

  variable as this class of passengers, whom you will see, when the

  ship is going nobly through the water, quite pale with admiration,

  swearing that the captain beats all captains ever known, and even

  hinting at subscriptions for a piece of plate; and who, next

  morning, when the breeze has lulled, and all the sails hang useless

  in the idle air, shake their despondent heads again, and say, with

  screwed-up lips, they hope that captain is a sailor - but they

  shrewdly doubt him.

  It even became an occupation in the calm, to wonder when the wind

  WOULD spring up in the favourable quarter, where, it was clearly

  shown by all the rules and precedents, it ought to have sprung up

  long ago. The first mate, who whistled for it zealously, was much

  respected for his perseverance, and was regarded even by the

  unbelievers as a first-rate sailor. Many gloomy looks would be

  cast upward through the cabin skylights at the flapping sails while

  dinner was in progress; and some, growing bold in ruefulness,

  predicted that we should land about the middle of July. There are

  always on board ship, a Sanguine One, and a Despondent One. The

  latter character carried it hollow at this period of the voyage,

  and triumphed over the Sanguine One at every meal, by inquiring

  where he supposed the Great Western (which left New York a week

  after us) was NOW: and where he supposed the 'Cunard' steam-packet

  was NOW: and what he thought of sailing vessels, as compared with

  steamships NOW: and so beset his life with pestilent attacks of

  that kind, that he too was obliged to affect despondency, for very

  Page 149

  Dickens, Charles - American Notes for General Circulation

  peace and quietude.

  These were additions to the list of entertaining incidents, but

  there was still another source of interest. We carried in the

  steerage nearly a hundred passengers: a little world of poverty:

  and as we came to know individuals among them by sight, from

  looking down upon the deck where they took the air in the daytime,

  and cooked their food, and very often ate it too, we became curious

  to know their histories, and with what expectations they had gone

  out to America, and on what errands they were going home, and what

  their circumstances were. The information we got on these heads

  from the carpenter, who had charge of these people, was often of

  the strangest kind. Some of them had been in America but three

  days, some but three months, and some had gone out in the last

  voyage of that very ship in which they were now returning home.

  Others had sold their clothes to raise the passage-money, and had

  hardly rags to cover them; others had no food, and lived upon the

  charity of the rest: and one man, it was discovered nearly at the

  end of the voyage, not before - for he kept his secret close, and

  did not court compassion - had had no sustenance whatever but the

  bones and scraps of fat he took from the plates used in the aftercabin

  dinner, when they were put out to be washed.

  The whole system of shipping and conveying these unfortunate

  persons, is one that stands in need of thorough revision. If any

  class deserve to be protected and assisted by the Government, it is

  that class who are banished from their native land in search of the

  bare means of subsistence. All that could be done for these poor

  people by the great compassion and humanity of the captain and

  officers was done, but they require much more. The law is bound,

  at least upon the English side, to see that too many of them are

  not put on board one ship: and that their accommodations are

  decent: not demoralising, and profligate. It is bound, too, in

  common humanity, to declare that no man shall be taken on board

  without his stock of provisions being previously inspected by some

  proper officer, and pronounced moderately sufficient for his

  support upon the voyage. It is bound to provide, or to require

  that there be provided, a medical attendant; whereas in these ships

  there are none, though sickness of adults, and deaths of children,

  on the passage, are matters of the very commonest occurrence.

  Above all it is the duty of any Government, be it monarchy or

  republic, to interpose and put an end to that system by which a

  firm of traders in emigrants purchase of the owners the whole

  'tween-decks of a ship, and send on board as many wretched people

  as they can lay hold of, on any terms they can get, without the

  smallest reference to the conveniences of the steerage, the number

  of berths, the slightest separation of the sexes, or anything but

  their own immediate profit. Nor is even this the worst of the

  vicious system: for, certain crimping agents of these houses, who

  have a percentage on all the passengers they inveigle, are

  constantly travelling about those districts where poverty and

  discontent are rife, and tempting the credulous into more misery,

  by holding out monstrous inducements to emigration which can never

  be realised.

  The history of every family we had on board was pretty much the

  same. After hoarding up, and borrowing, and begging, and selling

  everything to pay the passage, they had gone out to New York,

  expecting to find its streets paved with gold; and had found them

  paved with very hard and very real stones. Enterprise was dull;

  labourers were not wanted; jobs of work were to be got, but the

  payment was not. They were coming back,
even poorer than they

  went. One of them was carrying an open letter from a young English

  artisan, who had been in New York a fortnight, to a friend near

  Page 150

  Dickens, Charles - American Notes for General Circulation

  Manchester, whom he strongly urged to follow him. One of the

  officers brought it to me as a curiosity. 'This is the country,

  Jem,' said the writer. 'I like America. There is no despotism

  here; that's the great thing. Employment of all sorts is going abegging,

  and wages are capital. You have only to choose a trade,

  Jem, and be it. I haven't made choice of one yet, but I shall

  soon. AT PRESENT I HAVEN'T QUITE MADE UP MY MIND WHETHER TO BE A

  CARPENTER - OR A TAILOR.'

  There was yet another kind of passenger, and but one more, who, in

  the calm and the light winds, was a constant theme of conversation

  and observation among us. This was an English sailor, a smart,

  thorough-built, English man-of-war's-man from his hat to his shoes,

  who was serving in the American navy, and having got leave of

  absence was on his way home to see his friends. When he presented

  himself to take and pay for his passage, it had been suggested to

  him that being an able seaman he might as well work it and save the

  money, but this piece of advice he very indignantly rejected:

  saying, 'He'd be damned but for once he'd go aboard ship, as a

  gentleman.' Accordingly, they took his money, but he no sooner

  came aboard, than he stowed his kit in the forecastle, arranged to

  mess with the crew, and the very first time the hands were turned

  up, went aloft like a cat, before anybody. And all through the

  passage there he was, first at the braces, outermost on the yards,

  perpetually lending a hand everywhere, but always with a sober

  dignity in his manner, and a sober grin on his face, which plainly

  said, 'I do it as a gentleman. For my own pleasure, mind you!'

  At length and at last, the promised wind came up in right good

  earnest, and away we went before it, with every stitch of canvas

  set, slashing through the water nobly. There was a grandeur in the

  motion of the splendid ship, as overshadowed by her mass of sails,

  she rode at a furious pace upon the waves, which filled one with an

  indescribable sense of pride and exultation. As she plunged into a

  foaming valley, how I loved to see the green waves, bordered deep

  with white, come rushing on astern, to buoy her upward at their

  pleasure, and curl about her as she stooped again, but always own

  her for their haughty mistress still! On, on we flew, with

  changing lights upon the water, being now in the blessed region of

  fleecy skies; a bright sun lighting us by day, and a bright moon by

  night; the vane pointing directly homeward, alike the truthful

  index to the favouring wind and to our cheerful hearts; until at

  sunrise, one fair Monday morning - the twenty-seventh of June, I

  shall not easily forget the day - there lay before us, old Cape

  Clear, God bless it, showing, in the mist of early morning, like a

  cloud: the brightest and most welcome cloud, to us, that ever hid

  the face of Heaven's fallen sister - Home.

  Dim speck as it was in the wide prospect, it made the sunrise a

  more cheerful sight, and gave to it that sort of human interest

  which it seems to want at sea. There, as elsewhere, the return of

  day is inseparable from some sense of renewed hope and gladness;

  but the light shining on the dreary waste of water, and showing it

  in all its vast extent of loneliness, presents a solemn spectacle,

  which even night, veiling it in darkness and uncertainty, does not

  surpass. The rising of the moon is more in keeping with the

  solitary ocean; and has an air of melancholy grandeur, which in its

  soft and gentle influence, seems to comfort while it saddens. I

  recollect when I was a very young child having a fancy that the

  reflection of the moon in water was a path to Heaven, trodden by

  the spirits of good people on their way to God; and this old

  feeling often came over me again, when I watched it on a tranquil

  night at sea.

  Page 151

  Dickens, Charles - American Notes for General Circulation

  The wind was very light on this same Monday morning, but it was

  still in the right quarter, and so, by slow degrees, we left Cape

  Clear behind, and sailed along within sight of the coast of

  Ireland. And how merry we all were, and how loyal to the George

  Washington, and how full of mutual congratulations, and how

  venturesome in predicting the exact hour at which we should arrive

  at Liverpool, may be easily imagined and readily understood. Also,

  how heartily we drank the captain's health that day at dinner; and

  how restless we became about packing up: and how two or three of

  the most sanguine spirits rejected the idea of going to bed at all

  that night as something it was not worth while to do, so near the

  shore, but went nevertheless, and slept soundly; and how to be so

  near our journey's end, was like a pleasant dream, from which one

  feared to wake.

  The friendly breeze freshened again next day, and on we went once

  more before it gallantly: descrying now and then an English ship

  going homeward under shortened sail, while we, with every inch of

  canvas crowded on, dashed gaily past, and left her far behind.

  Towards evening, the weather turned hazy, with a drizzling rain;

  and soon became so thick, that we sailed, as it were, in a cloud.

  Still we swept onward like a phantom ship, and many an eager eye

  glanced up to where the Look-out on the mast kept watch for

  Holyhead.

  At length his long-expected cry was heard, and at the same moment

  there shone out from the haze and mist ahead, a gleaming light,

  which presently was gone, and soon returned, and soon was gone

  again. Whenever it came back, the eyes of all on board, brightened

  and sparkled like itself: and there we all stood, watching this

  revolving light upon the rock at Holyhead, and praising it for its

  brightness and its friendly warning, and lauding it, in short,

  above all other signal lights that ever were displayed, until it

  once more glimmered faintly in the distance, far behind us.

  Then, it was time to fire a gun, for a pilot; and almost before its

  smoke had cleared away, a little boat with a light at her masthead

  came bearing down upon us, through the darkness, swiftly. And

  presently, our sails being backed, she ran alongside; and the

  hoarse pilot, wrapped and muffled in pea-coats and shawls to the

  very bridge of his weather-ploughed-up nose, stood bodily among us

  on the deck. And I think if that pilot had wanted to borrow fifty

  pounds for an indefinite period on no security, we should have

  engaged to lend it to him, among us, before his boat had dropped

  astern, or (which is the same thing) before every scrap of news in

  the paper he brought with him had become the common property of all

  on board.

  We turned in pretty late that night, and turned out pretty early

  next morning. By six o'clock we clustered
on the deck, prepared to

  go ashore; and looked upon the spires, and roofs, and smoke, of

  Liverpool. By eight we all sat down in one of its Hotels, to eat

  and drink together for the last time. And by nine we had shaken

  hands all round, and broken up our social company for ever.

  The country, by the railroad, seemed, as we rattled through it,

  like a luxuriant garden. The beauty of the fields (so small they

  looked!), the hedge-rows, and the trees; the pretty cottages, the

  beds of flowers, the old churchyards, the antique houses, and every

  well-known object; the exquisite delights of that one journey,

  crowding in the short compass of a summer's day, the joy of many

  years, with the winding up with Home and all that makes it dear; no

  tongue can tell, or pen of mine describe.

  Page 152

  Dickens, Charles - American Notes for General Circulation

  CHAPTER XVI - SLAVERY

  THE upholders of slavery in America - of the atrocities of which

  system, I shall not write one word for which I have not had ample

  proof and warrant - may be divided into three great classes.

  The first, are those more moderate and rational owners of human

  cattle, who have come into the possession of them as so many coins

  in their trading capital, but who admit the frightful nature of the

  Institution in the abstract, and perceive the dangers to society

  with which it is fraught: dangers which however distant they may

  be, or howsoever tardy in their coming on, are as certain to fall

  upon its guilty head, as is the Day of Judgment.

  The second, consists of all those owners, breeders, users, buyers

  and sellers of slaves, who will, until the bloody chapter has a

  bloody end, own, breed, use, buy, and sell them at all hazards:

  who doggedly deny the horrors of the system in the teeth of such a

  mass of evidence as never was brought to bear on any other subject,

  and to which the experience of every day contributes its immense

  amount; who would at this or any other moment, gladly involve

  America in a war, civil or foreign, provided that it had for its

  sole end and object the assertion of their right to perpetuate

  slavery, and to whip and work and torture slaves, unquestioned by

  any human authority, and unassailed by any human power; who, when

  they speak of Freedom, mean the Freedom to oppress their kind, and

 

‹ Prev