I passed nearly three weeks in Savannah at Jim Hubbard's boarding house, mingling freely with the different characters who frequented that establishment, making my observations on men and things; and if at times I felt humiliated and uncomfortable, I solaced myself by the reflection that my sojourn in that place would be brief, and in the mean time would open to my inspection a new chapter in the book of life; and being constitutionally of a hopeful disposition, and seldom troubled with despondency, instead of suffering my thoughts to dwell on present perplexities, I looked forward to more prosperous scenes and happier times.
At length I found an opportunity to quit Savannah, of which I shall ever retain a vivid recollection, by shipping before the mast in a good wholesome-looking brig, known as the Joseph, of Boston, and bound to Gottenburg, with a cargo of tobacco.
The name of the brig was not a very attractive one, but I had learned long before that the names of merchant vessels, being bestowed according to the taste, fancy, or whim of the owner, should never be regarded as indicative of character, any more than the names of individuals. The first vessel I sailed in, although named after the most beautiful and swift fish that swims the ocean, the dolphin, was one of the ugliest and dullest sailing crafts that ever floated on salt water.
Some ship-owners have a great partiality to animals; hence we find noble ships bearing the names of creatures of every description, from the most ferocious beast to the most unsightly reptile. Other ships carry on their sterns the names of heroes and heroines, gods and goddesses; satyrs, nymphs, civilians, poets, artists, statesmen, and demagogues; of kings, warriors, buccaneers, philanthropists, and brigands. It is thus we count among our ships a Hercules and a Joan of Arc; with Apollos, Minervas, Canovas, Hogarths, John Howards, and Robin Hoods, with a dense sprinkling of Mammoths and Mosquitoes, Tigers and Humming Birds, Whales and Butterflies, Nondescripts, Demons, volcanoes and Icebergs.
Some names of ships are ingenious and quaint, others commonplace or ridiculous; some are expressed in a phrase consisting of a few words, others in a word of one syllable, and sometimes of one letter. Thus we have the INO, and the GUESS; awkward names to repeat when asked, "What is the name of that ship?" and the "Catch me if you can," and the "What d'ye think 'tis like?" which, by their respective godfathers, are thought to be extremely witty. Thus, we have the "Ay, ay, sir," the "Tom," the "A No. 1," the "Tallyho," and the "W."
During the last war with Great Britain two privateers were built by the same individuals, and were intended to cruise in company; they were called the "United we stand," and the "Divided we fall." A number of years since, three large and elegant ships constituted a line of English packets between Liverpool and Charleston, in South Carolina. They were, with commendable taste, named after three celebrated poems by three distinguished British poets, the "Lalla Rookh," the "Corsair," and "Marmion." An opulent merchant in Rhode Island, having been repeatedly disappointed in his wish to have a male descendant, although he was the father of half a dozen cherry-cheeked GIRLS, gave the name of "Boy" to a ship of his, which was launched a few weeks after the birth of his youngest daughter. This ship was a fortunate one, and a great favorite of the owner, but never arrived at man's estate, continuing "a boy" to the end of the chapter.
Some ship-owners give to their vessels names of individuals distinguished for talent or worth, or who have served their country nobly by sea or by land. Some bestow on their ships those names that are dearest to them; those of their sweethearts, their wives, their children, brethren, sisters, or friends, as the case may be. Thus we have the "Three sons," "Ten Brothers," "Four Sisters," "Sally Anne," "Aunt Hitty," and "Huldah and Judy;" and thus we may account for the euphonious name of a vessel, once belonging to Windsor, in Virginia, the "Jonathan Jacocks."
Some years ago two Boston merchants were engaged in building a ship for the freighting business. When finished, there was a difference of opinion in regard to the selection of a name. One proposed the name of a distinguished southern statesman, Mr. Poinsett; the other, an old shipmaster, remonstrated against giving the ship the name of any living person; and he carried his point. "The man you mention," said he, with energy and emphasis, "is a good fellow enough now; but before two years, he may change his politics, or do some other shabby act that will stamp his name with infamy. And then how foolish we shall look when hailing our ship. No! Never while you live, call your ship, or your child, after any living great man; but take the name of some one whose excellence is vouched for by a tombstone."
A line of packet ships was projected, and in part established some thirty-five years ago, between Boston and Liverpool, by some public-spirited merchants. The project, however, after a time was abandoned. Three new and beautiful ships were built for this enterprise, and plied regularly between the two ports; they were named the Emerald, the Topaz, and the Amethyst. If the undertaking had been successful, other ships would have been added with names of a similar stamp, as the Diamond, the Ruby, the Coral, or the Pearl.
The government of the United States has, for many years, adopted the plan of naming ships-of-the-line after the different states in the Union, the frigates after the rivers, and the sloops of war after the principal cities; thus we have the Vermont, Ohio, Pennsylvania, etc., the Brandywine, Raritan, Merrimac, etc., and the Jamestown, Portsmouth, Hartford, etc. As no more ships-of-the-line will probably be constructed, comparatively few of the states will receive the honor originally intended.
The introduction of large clipper built ships, within a few years, has been attended with a new and distinct class of names, some of which are of a decidedly poetical character, and fill the largest speaking trumpet to its utmost capacity; thus the ocean is traversed in every direction by "Winged Racers," "Flying Arrows," "Sparkling Seas," "Shooting Stars," "Foaming Waves," "White Squalls," "Sovereigns of the Seas," and "Thunder Showers;" and we may soon see launched the "Almighty Dollar."
The brig Joseph was commanded by Ezra Allen, a very worthy, well-meaning man, of moderate capacity, and an indifferent sailor. The mate, Mr. Bowen, was an energetic, down-east Yankee, with a drawl as long as the deep sea line, and almost as much twisted. He was one of those queer mortals, manufactured nowhere but in New England, who, restless, inquisitive, ingenious, and bold, can readily adapt themselves to any situation, and, under a very raw and green exterior, conceal an inexhaustible mine of practical good sense and available intelligence on almost every subject. Mr. Bowen, although deferential in his deportment towards the captain, and ever treating him with a good show of respect, was in reality master of the brig; his advice being solicited on the most trivial occasion, and every suggestion he made in relation to the management of the vessel was eagerly seized upon by the captain. Indeed, Bowen was a model of a mate; industrious, economical, and faithful, treating the crew with kindness and consideration, yet exacting their full quota of labor. No "bread of idleness" was consumed where he had the direction of affairs. Under his management there was perfect subordination, without the necessity of resorting to heavers and handspikes as a means of enforcing authority.
The second mate, Mr. Conners, was a little, weasel-faced man, of uncertain extraction, who had a great idea of his importance, and like other mates I have seen, bustled about the decks, as if to make up in noise and bustle deficiencies in merit; forgetting that a quiet, decided, straightforward manner is more effective in enforcing authority, and establishing discipline, than the roughest language breathed through iron lungs. We had but a brief opportunity to test his worth, for, on the second day after leaving port, Mr. Conners was attacked with illness, stricken down and confined to his state-room, where he lay, suffering much pain, and uttering moans of a character not unfamiliar to my ears. The chief mate came on deck while I was at the helm, and in answer to my inquiries, gave me the particulars of his illness.
"Mr. Bowen," said I, "that man has got the yellow fever, and it is a severe case. It will probably go hard with him."
"Do you think so, Hawser?" Said Mr. Bowen, slowly drawling out his words; "well, I don't know but you are more than half right. There have been some deaths from yellow fever in Savannah already this season, and who knows but" and turning to the captain, who at this moment came on deck, carelessly handling his toothpick, he exclaimed, "Captain Allen, Mr. Conners has got the yellow fever!"
The captain started back, aghast, at this terrible announcement. His face was as white as a sheet. "The yellow fever, Mr. Bowen! God forbid! What makes you think so?"
"Why," replied the mate, "the symptoms are precisely those of yellow fever; and you know there were some fatal cases among the shipping before we left Savannah."
"That's true, Mr. Bowen true as a book. Perhaps it IS the yellow fever. O Lord! The yellow fever on board the Joseph! What SHALL we do, Mr. Bowen? Had we not better put back? Who knows whose turn it may be next? The yellow fever! Why, this is dreadful!"
And the yellow fever it proved to be. The unfortunate man was seized with delirium in less than twelve hours after he was attacked, and died on the following day. The captain was terribly frightened, and was half disposed to make for the nearest port and resign command of the brig. But Mr. Bowen succeeded in calming his fears, and convince him, that by sprinkling the cabin and forecastle freely with vinegar, and burning brimstone, tobacco-leaves, and tar several hours in a day for several successive days, the infected atmosphere would be rendered pure and innoxious. The experiment was tried; and for more than a week the captain, to the great annoyance of the sailors, was every day busy in devising means of salutary fumigation, and carrying them into effect, or, in other words, trying to drive out one poison by introducing another a hundred times more offensive to our olfactories, and attended, if possible, with more unpleasant associations.
We pursued our course towards Gottenburg; steering nearly in the direction of the Gulf Stream, passing to the southward of the Bank of Newfoundland, and then standing away to the northward and eastward, with a view to pass north of Scotland and enter the Skager-rack through the broad passage which separates the Orkneys from the Shetland Islands. On the passage we fell in with the little islet, or huge rock, known as Rockal, which lies almost in mid-ocean, being about two hundred miles west of the coast of Scotland. This rock is only a few hundred feet in length, and rises abruptly to a height eighty or a hundred feet. It is craggy and precipitous, and is the resort of seals, and myriads of birds, as osprays, gulls, and gannets, which abound in that part of the ocean, and there, undisturbed by the presence of man, lay their eggs and rear their young. Rockal has the appearance, when first seen, of a large ship under sail, and is of a dark gray color, being covered in some parts, probably to the depth of many feet, with birdlime, or guano, the accumulation of ages. But as this rock is exposed to the peltings of the pitiless storms, which are frequent in this part of the world, and is subject to the extremes of heat and cold, it is possible that the rich beds of guano with which it is covered are not of the best quality; besides, as it can boast of no bay or nook in which a vessel, or even a boat, can ride in safety, but is exposed on every side to the constant succession of waves rolling onward eternally across the ocean, but not always in the same direction, forbidding the landing of any human being on its craggy sides, its treasures, however valuable, will probably remain undisturbed forever.
This restlessness of the ocean, creating an undulating surface, even during long-continued calms, excites the wonder of all who, never having been abroad upon the waters, imagine its surface is always smooth and unruffled unless disturbed by a gale of wind. This "tramp of the ocean waves" is beautifully described by Charles H. Brown, one of the "Bowdoin Poets":
The next land we fell in with was Fair Isle, which lies about half way between the Shetland and the Orkney Islands, being about twenty-five miles south of Sumburgh Head, the southern extremity of the principal of the Shetland Islands. Fair Isle, as is indeed the case with all these islands which are susceptible of cultivation, is inhabited by a rude and hardy race of beings; the men being engaged a large portion of the time in the ling and cod fishery, which is extensively carried on in this part of the world. Taking advantage of their locality in mid-channel, the boatmen from Fair Isle also board vessels which pass to an fro, going "north about," and exchange fish and a slender variety of vegetables for tobacco and rum; those articles, so unnecessary to happiness or comfort, being greedily coveted by the rude and semi-barbarous inhabitants of those regions, who also, be it said to their credit, will not object to receive a dozen of biscuit, a piece of beef or pork, or a goodly portion of any other palatable article of food.
We were boarded by two of these boats from Fair Isle, well filled with stalwart and sturdy beggars; and dealing with such a man as Captain Allen, good natured and wanting in decision and energy, their solicitations for favors almost took the shape of peremptory demands, and the brig was virtually laid under a heavy contribution. Some of the most bold and importunate visited the forecastle, and manifested such an inquisitive and rapacious spirit in their quest after tobacco, that we were provoked to treat them in a manner most inhospitable, and drive them on deck.
Proceeding across the head of the North Sea, and running for the "Naze of Norway," the weather being pleasant and the sea smooth, I persuaded Mr. Bowen to throw a fishing-line over the stern and let it trail, with the expectation of catching some mackerel. We succeeded in capturing several of those excellent fish, and also two or three gar-fish; a kind of fish I have never met with elsewhere excepting in the tropical seas. These gar-fish of the North Sea were of comparatively small size, about fifteen inches in length, but of most delicious flavor. Their long and slim backbone being of a deep emerald green color, Captain Allen, with characteristic sagacity, concluded that these fish were poisonous and unwholesome, and banished them from the cabin. They were heartily welcomed in the forecastle, however, their qualities fully tested, and the skipper was pronounced the most verdant of the two!
Passing the Naze, a high bluff point at the south-western extremity of Norway, and then losing sight of the rough, mountainous coast, intersected by innumerable arms of the sea, called FIORDS, penetrating inland for miles, we crossed the Skager-rack and entered the Cattegat Sea, which divides the western shores of Sweden from the coast of Jutland, and which is about a hundred miles in length and fifty miles in breadth. We soon got sight of Wingo Beacon, a high pyramidal monument, built on a rock at one of the entrances of the fiord on which the city of Gottenburg is situated, and procured a pilot, who took us through a narrow, winding channel among the rocks, into a snug haven surrounded by barren islets, and brought the brig to anchor.
Here we were obliged to remain until visited the next morning by the health officer; for the quarantine regulations of Sweden, although not so vexatious and absurd as in many other ports of Europe, were nevertheless very strict. A case of plague or yellow fever was never known in Gottenburg, or in any other port in Sweden, yet it was the universal belief among medical men that both diseases were contagious, and could be imported in ships from the Mediterranean and the West Indies. Therefore, an elaborate code of sanitary regulations was established, and precautions of the most useless, yet annoying character to persons engaged in commerce, were taken to prevent the introduction of diseases, which could not exist an hour in that northern climate.
The health officer, a grave and dignified personage, with a formidable posse, was rowed alongside the brig in an eight-oared barge. He asked the question, "Are you all well on board?"
"Yes."
The crew were summoned to the side of the vessel, and their phizzes critically examined by the doctor. We were then ordered up the rigging as high as the tops, to exhibit our activity, and prove that our muscles were in good working condition.
"Where is your roll of equipage?" asked the doctor.
This document, containing a list of the crew as shipped in Havana, and certified at the custom house, after having undergone an unpleasant process of purification, was passed to the health officer, by the aid of a pair of tongs with legs of extraordinary length.
On counting heads, and comparing the actual number of those who were anxiously looking over the gunwale with the list of the ship's company, that vigilant functionary shook his head. One of the number was missing! An explanation was demanded. Captain Allen was embarrassed. He trumped up a clumsy story about a bad cold, ill health of long standing, consumption, etc., but whispered not a syllable of yellow fever. He was a poor hand at deception; but he might as well have stated the whole truth, for as in all places abroad where strict quarantine laws are established, if one or more of the crew is missing, it matters not whether he died of accident or disease, the health officers take it for granted, and insist upon it in spite of evidence to the contrary, that he died of plague if the vessel is from the Mediterranean, or of yellow fever if from a southern American port or the West Indies.
Greatly to the mortification of Captain Allen, and to the loudly expressed dissatisfaction of the crew, the brig was ordered to remain TEN DAYS IN QUARANTINE.
Nor was this all the trouble and annoyance consequent on the deficiency in the "roll of equipage." Fumigations in the cabin and the forecastle, of a character stronger and more disagreeable than Captain Allen ever dreamed of, were carried on, under the direction of the pilot and a revenue officer, several times a day. They were attended with a most inodorous effluvia, and caused such a general concert of sneezing and coughing, by night as well as by day, that one would have thought influenza, in its most fearful shape and with giant power, had seized every man by the throat.
Laws for the preservation of the health of a community have been established among civilized nations in every age. And when these laws are based on reason and intelligence, they undoubtedly subserve a noble purpose. But the quarantine laws all over the world, with some rare exceptions, being the offspring of ignorance and terror, are not only the climax of absurdity, but act as an incubus on commerce, causing ruinous delays in mercantile operations, much distress, and unnecessary expense.
The PLAGUE was formerly universally regarded as a contagious disease, and to prevent the horrors which attend its introduction in large cities, the most stringent laws have been enacted for ages. But the contagiousness of the plague is now doubted by many enlightened physicians. Whether it be so or not, it never made its appearance in countries bordering on the North Sea or the Baltic, or on the American continent. Although many vessels every year, almost every month, arrive in our principal ports from the Levant, freighted with rags and other articles, constituting a medium through which this disease, if contagious, would surely be propagated, yet this dreadful scourge of cities, in ancient and modern times, has never been brought across the Atlantic.
The small pox is another disease against the introduction of which quarantine laws have been established. That it is contagious there is no question; but by the blessed discovery of vaccination, this disease, once so dreadful, is robbed of its horrors, and rendered as harmless as the measles or the whooping cough, insomuch that laws, formerly enacted in different states to protect the people from the dangers of the small pox have generally been repealed.
The Asiatic cholera, when it first made its appearance in Europe, was believed to be contagious. Quarantine laws, of the most stringent character, were adopted to prevent its introduction into seaports, and military CORDONS SANITAIRE were drawn around the frontiers of nations to shut it out of villages and towns, until it was ascertained to be an epidemic disease, the germs of which were in the atmosphere, and could no more be controlled than the winds which sweep the earth.
The YELLOW FEVER, however, has for many years been the most terrible bugbear, and to prevent its introduction into the seaports of Europe and the United States has been the chief end and aim of the absurd and ridiculous quarantine regulations to which I have referred. It has never been regarded as contagious by well-informed men in countries where it is most prevalent, and now, in spite of long-existing and deeply-stamped prejudices, it is generally admitted, by enlightened physicians, that the YELLOW FEVER IS NOT CONTAGIOUS. NOT A SINGLE WELL-ESTABLISHED FACT CAN BE ADDUCED TO SHOW THE CONTAGIOUS CHARACTER OF THE DISEASE, OR THAT IT CAN BE CONVEYED IN CARGOES OF ANY DESCRIPTION FROM ONE COUNTRY TO ANOTHER.
Persons in good health may leave a port where yellow fever prevails, and carry within them the seeds of the disease, and on arriving at another port several days afterwards, or on the passage thither, may be attacked with the disease in its most appalling character, and die; BUT THE DISEASE IS NOT COMMUNICATED TO OTHERS. Indeed, the yellow fever is not so INFECTIOUS as the typhus or scarlet fever, which prevails every season in northern climes.
When the yellow fever broke out in New York, and caused much alarm, nearly forty years ago, the first cases occurred in the vicinity of Trinity Church, and until destroyed by a black frost, it spread gradually in every direction from this common centre, insomuch that the "infected district" was clearly defined and marked out from day to day. Persons, who had been in the "infected district," and left it for other parts of the country, were subsequently attacked by this disease hundreds of miles from New York, and died; but not a single instance occurred in which it was communicated to others. And so in the West Indies: the yellow fever sometimes rages fearfully in one city or town, while in another, on the same island, not a single case exists, although there is a daily and unobstructed intercourse between the two places. And whenever, owing to some mysterious agency, it makes its appearance, precautions to prevent its extension seem useless. It overleaps all barriers, and attacks with equal severity the inmates of a palace or a filthy hovel, the captain of a ship in a splendid cabin, surrounded with phials and pills, and Jack in the forecastle, redolent of tobacco, and destitute of ventilation.
The quarantine regulations in Boston formerly partook of the unreasonable and absurd character, which, to a greater or less extent, has marked these regulations in all maritime countries. Vessels arriving from certain ports where yellow fever was supposed to prevail, were not allowed to haul to a wharf and discharge cargo, or hold any direct personal communication with the city, until the expiration of twenty-five days after leaving port. Thus a vessel from the West Indies, having perishable commodities on board, might reach Boston in twelve days, the vessel and cargo in good condition, and every man stout and hearty. But it was supposed that yellow fever might lurk among the crew, or lie concealed among boxes of sugars or cigars, and, therefore, thirteen additional days were allowed to give it an opportunity to escape. At the expiration of that time, when the patience of the men, kept so long in durance vile without the shadow of a cause, in sight of their homes, was exhausted, and the perishable portion of the cargo in a most unwholesome state of decomposition, caused by the delay, the vessel was pronounced pure, in a fit condition to receive PRATIQUE, and allowed to haul alongside the wharf, receive visitors on board, and discharge cargo.
The reader, inexperienced in the mysteries of sanitary regulations, may smile at the absurdity of such proceedings, but the system of guarding the public against the horrors of the yellow fever, adopted by the health department of Boston, was in those days remarkably judicious and indulgent, when compared with the regulations in other cities, and which exist at the present time, not only on the other side of the Atlantic, but in this country. And, to the credit of Boston, and as an illustration of the intelligence of her citizens, it should be recorded that this seaport, the principal one in New England, WAS THE FIRST IN THE CIVILIZED WORLD TO EXPRESS AN OPINION THAT THE YELLOW FEVER WAS NOT CONTAGIOUS, and to repeal those ridiculous, useless, and burdensome "quarantine laws," which, originating in panic terror, have been instituted from time immemorial, to prevent the introduction of plague and yellow fever, and establish in their stead sanitary regulations, which are in accordance with the dictates of common sense.
Infectious diseases are sometimes caused by the foul air arising from a ship's hold, owing to the decomposition of vegetable substances in a hot climate, or to an accumulation of filth, without ventilation, when crowded with passengers. The malignant, pestilential disease, caused by inhaling this noxious atmosphere, often sweeps off portions of the crew and passengers; and those who visit a ship under such circumstances, and breathe the poisonous gases, even in a northern latitude, are liable to be attacked by this fatal disease. But the ordinary quarantine regulations will afford no protection in such a case. A few weeks' delay in quarantine after the crew have become acclimated, and fumigations, and sprinklings with acids in the cabin, until all hands are pickled or smoke-dried, will not purify the ship's hold, prevent the exhalation of pestilential gases, and arrest the progress of infection.
Then may we not hope that the expensive quarantine establishments, with sweeping, indiscriminating regulations, founded on prejudice, and continued through fear and ignorance, a disgrace to this enlightened age, and a dead weight on commercial enterprise, will soon be abolished? In their stead let a board of health be instituted, with an office where business can be transacted at all hours. Let the master of every vessel which arrives in port, and on board of which deaths have occurred during the passage, report the same at the health office, that judicious measures, such as are adapted to the particular case, may be resorted to, in order to protect the community or individuals from inconvenience or danger when INFECTIOUS diseases exist.
Time passes slowly in quarantine. The officers of a ship are generally taciturn, surly, and exacting; and the crew are unhappy, discontented, disposed to grumble, and ready to quarrel and fight on the most trivial occasions, and often without any occasion whatever. At the expiration of ten protracted days after we let go our anchor in the outer harbor of Gottenburg, we were again honored with a visit from the health officer. The crew manifested their vigorous physical condition by another clamber up the rigging. The officer came on board, shook hands with the captain, and congratulated him on being released from quarantine. The pilot took charge of the vessel, the men were ordered to man the windlass, which order was obeyed with alacrity. Faces diminished in longitude, and were lighted up with smiles. The anchor song of "Yeo, Heave O," never sounded more musical or inspiring than on that occasion. Sail was made on the brig with magical dexterity, and the crew were in fine spirits, jocund, and happy, as we thridded the channel extending some ten miles to the city, looked with surprise upon the innumerable barren rocks and islets scattered around, and entering the strait, surveyed with increasing interest and pleasure cultivated fields, and neat-looking dwelling houses, and men, women, and children, busily engaged in their customary occupations. We felt that we were in the world once more.
Gottenburg is a large and populous city, situated on a plain near the extremity of the fiord, about thirteen miles from the Cattegat, but almost encircled by steep and craggy rocks, hills, and a bold and picturesque scenery, with a fine harbor, the entrance to which is easily defended; it is conveniently located for the foreign trade of Sweden, and next to Stockholm, has the most extensive commerce of any port in the kingdom. Its exports consist chiefly of iron and steel, brought from rich mines nearly two hundred miles in the interior, by a well-perfected system of inland navigation. We lay some weeks at anchor in the upper harbor, and I had abundant opportunities to visit the city, mark its peculiarities and note the character of its inhabitants, who, in Gottenburg and vicinity, as in other parts of the kingdom, are simple and industrious in their habits, and civil and hospitable to strangers.
After our cargo was discharged and a sufficient quantity of iron taken on board for ballast, the American consul informed Captain Allen that he had a prisoner under his charge, accused of a capital crime, whom it was necessary to send to the United States for trial, and that the brig Joseph had been selected for the honor of conveying the criminal across the ocean. The captain did not appear flattered by this mark of confidence on the part of the consul; he ventured a weak remonstrance, but finally submitted with a good grace. Preparations were accordingly made for the reception of the prisoner, who had made one of the crew of the large clipper schooner Plattsburg, on board which vessel mutiny, piracy, and murder had been committed.
The Plattsburg sailed from Baltimore about the 1st of July, 1816, bound on a voyage to Smyrna, in the Mediterranean, with a cargo of coffee, and $42,000 in specie. The schooner was commanded by William Hackett; the name of the chief mate was Frederick Yeizer, the second mate was Stephen B. Onion, and Thomas Baynard was the supercargo. The crew consisted of six persons, all of whom were foreigners, and among them were some desperate, hardened ruffians, who had learned lessons in villany on board Patriot privateers, some of which, under no legal restraint, and responsible to no government, were little better than pirates. The names of these men were John Williams a Canadian, Peter Rog a Dane, Francis Frederick a Spaniard, Miles Petersen a Swede, William Stromer a Prussian, and Nathaniel White an Englishman.
Before the Plattsburg had passed Cape Henry symptoms of insubordination appeared among the crew. One of the men, named John Williams, was particularly insolent and troublesome, and was chastised by the captain, after which the voyage was quietly pursued, and the crew were obedient and apparently contented. But beneath this apparent calm a terrible storm was brewing. A fiendish plan was devised by Williams and Stromer, and agreed to by the rest, to murder the officers and get possession of the money, which they knew was on board. They first determined to poison the captain, supercargo, and mates, but owing to some failure in their calculations, this plan was abandoned. When off the Western Islands, it was determined, after some discussion to seize on the officers while they were taking an observation of the sun at meridian, and, following the example of the mutineers of the Bounty, compel them to embark in the long-boat, and run their chance of reaching the shore. Williams and Stromer provided themselves with cords in order to bind the captain, and also with weapons to knock him on the head if he should resist; but when the time for action arrived, the hearts of their associates failed them, and the project was abandoned.
Williams reproached his shipmates for their cowardice. They were not lacking in rascality, but they wanted nerve to carry into effect the desperate design of taking possession of the schooner. Another consultation was held, and it was concluded that the SAFEST proceeding would be to massacre the officers before they could have an opportunity to make resistance. This plan was resolved upon, and all the details were carefully arranged, and every man had his part assigned him in the fearful tragedy which was about to be enacted.
Accordingly about midnight, on the 24th of July, being then but little more than a hundred miles to the westward of the Straits of Gibraltar, a loud cry was heard from the forecastle, of "Sail, ho! Right ahead!"
Mr. Yeizer, the mate, rushed forward to obtain a view of the vessel, and on stepping forward of the windlass, was felled to the deck by a murderous blow from a handspike in the hands of one of the mutineers. His body was instantly seized upon and thrown overboard. The second mate, who had just been called, hearing the cry of "a sail," hastened on deck and was going forward, when he was struck a violent blow, and grappled by Williams, who exclaimed, "Here is one of the rascals! Overboard with him!" But the captain, alarmed by the cries and trampling on deck, now made his appearance, and Williams released his grasp on Onion and attacked the captain, who, unsuspicious of any mutinous intentions, was unarmed. He was summarily disposed of, being brained by a handspike or heaver, and thrown into the sea. Onion, greatly terrified, escaped down the companion-way, and concealed himself in the bread locker.
The mutineers now called upon Mr. Baynard, the supercargo, to show himself on deck. He hesitated, but on being assured that no harm was intended, and threatened with instant death if he did not make his appearance at once, he passed up the companion-way, and while conversing with Williams, was mercilessly murdered by Stromer and Rog.
Three of the pirates now entered the cabin in search of the second mate, and the question was raised whether his life should be spared. After some debate it was determined that he should not be killed, provided he would take an oath to be faithful to their interests and aid them in their future proceedings. Onion, on hearing the decision, came out of his hiding-place, took the prescribed oath of fidelity, and was admitted a member of the fraternity. As some proper organization for the management of the vessel was considered necessary, Stromer was chosen captain, Williams's chief mate, and Onion retained his position as second mate.
On the morning succeeding this terrible crime, the specie was taken from "the run" beneath the cabin and brought on deck. Each man including Onion and Samberson, the cook, who took no part in the outrage received a share of the money, which was measured out in hats and tin pots, a single share amounting to about five thousand dollars.
And now the important question arose to what part of the world should they direct their course, in order to sell the vessel and cargo and make their escape with their ill-gotten booty; for they knew the deed would soon be known and the avengers of blood be upon their heels. They, finally, concluded to shape their course to the northward, and enter some obscure port in Norway, where no very strict inquisition would probably be made into the character of the vessel of their intentions, and from which place they could easily find means of proceeding to other parts of Europe. Onion, who was a skilful penman, was directed to manufacture some new invoices of cargo and alter other papers in such a manner as to deceive, for a time at least, the revenue authorities of such port as they might enter; and Williams altered the ship's log-book to correspond with the story they had agreed upon.
They arrived at Cleveland, a small port in Norway, about the middle of August, and conducted their affairs in such a way as to give no cause for supposing anything was wrong, But when Stromer expressed a desire to sell the vessel and cargo, without being particular in regard to the price, suspicions were excited that all was not right; and those suspicions were strengthened by some careless remarks of Frederick and Rog after they had been drinking freely. The schooner was accordingly seized and taken possession of by the proper authorities, and brought round to another wharf, where an investigation took place. This of course alarmed the guilty crew, and before their iniquity was discovered, each man took his share of money so dearly earned, and in all haste left the shores of Norway.
Williams, Onion, Rog, Frederick, and Samberson embarked in a sloop for Copenhagen, where they landed in fine spirits; and under the direction of Frederick, who was a native of that city, undertook to open a store, and with this object purchased a variety of goods. But it was not long before some circumstances drew upon them the attention of the police. They were arrested, and Samberson exposed the whole horrible transaction. These men were thrown into prison, and intelligence of their arrest was sent to the American government; but more than two years expired before they were brought to this country in the United States ship Hornet.
Stromer and White went off together; and Stromer probably proceeded to Prussia with his share of the money. He was never discovered by the satellites of justice; but White was subsequently arrested and brought to trial. Petersen, who was a native of Gottenberg, returned directly to his home. He had parents in that city of respectable standing, besides brothers and sisters. He told his relatives an ingenious tale to account for his prosperous condition, but he was speedily tracked by the officers of justice, and one day while enjoying himself with his friends, and lavishly spending his money, he was arrested for the dreadful crimes of piracy and murder, and thrown into a dungeon, where he remained heavily ironed for nearly twelve months, when he was transferred to the brig Joseph for conveyance to the United States.
We sailed from Gottenburg one morning about the first of September, 1817, bound to Boston. Having been long absent from my home without intercourse of any description with my friends and relations, and having seen during that period striking exemplifications of the caprices of fortune, having experienced "many ups and downs," the downs, however, being decidedly in the majority, I felt a strong desire, a yearning, to return once more to my friends in New England. I was convinced there were worse places in the world than my own dear native land, and far worse people than those among whom my lot had been cast in childhood.
It was on a Saturday we sailed from Gottenburg. It had been Captain Allen's intention to sail on the previous Thursday, but he was unexpectedly detained. On Friday morning all the arrangements were completed; the brig was ready for sea, the wind was fresh and fair, but not a step was taken towards getting under weigh. Indeed our worthy captain plumply told Mr. Bowen that NO CONSIDERATION COULD INDUCE HIM TO GO TO SEA ON A FRIDAY! The crew, one and all, as well as the mate, were amused at this exhibition of weakness, which did not increase the respect for his character; for ALL sailors are not superstitious, although they are proverbially regarded as such.
Petersen, the prisoner, who was brought on board in irons, bore no resemblance in personal appearance to the ferocious, ill-looking, big-whiskered ruffian, whose image is conjured up by the mention of the word "pirate." On the contrary he was a gentle-looking youth, only nineteen years of age, of a slight figure, pale complexion, and a pleasant, prepossessing countenance. He spoke English fluently, and by his conduct, intelligence, and plausible representations, soon won the favor of every man on board. He declared that he did not participate in the mutiny; that it was planned without his knowledge; that when the murders were committed he was asleep in the forecastle, and fear for his own life induced him to accept a share of the money and endeavor to conceal the crime.
His story was believed by Captain Allen and others, and he was relieved from his handcuffs every morning, and allowed to leave his quarters in the half-deck and range the vessel, mix with the sailors and assist in the performance of the various duties; and he showed himself an active, obedient, and intelligent seaman. He often expressed a wish that his trial should take place; he was confident of an acquittal, and longed to be once more at liberty.
I may as well state here that the trial of the mutineers of the Plattsburg, viz., Williams, Rog, Frederick, Petersen, and White took place on the 28th of December, 1818, before the U.S. Circuit Court, in session at Boston, Justice Story presiding. They were defended by able counsel, but convicted on circumstantial evidence, corroborated by the direct testimony of Samberson and Onion. It appeared on the trial that the mild and amiable-looking Petersen was one of the most forward and active of the mutineers. It was he who gave the signal for action by crying "Sail, ho!" and he subsequently assisted in throwing overboard the mate and murdering the captain.
The execution of these pirates was appointed for the 21st of January, 1819, but on the ground that the time between the sentence and execution, twenty-four days, was too short to allow the criminals to make their peace with God, a respite was granted until the 18th of February. On that day they were placed in a wagon, and a procession was formed of an imposing character, which, after passing through Court Street, State Street, India Street, and Milk Street to the Main street, now Washington street, proceeded to "the town land on boston Neck," where the execution took place in presence of twenty thousand people.
These men died a terrible death, in a strange land, far from their homes and kindred. Although such number witnessed the execution, few sympathized with them in their sufferings, for all acknowledged that their sentence was just. Their execution, doubtless, acted as an impressive warning to others, and restrained desperate ruffians from the commission of desperate deeds.
In all ages, crimes of a dark dye when committed on the ocean, have been regarded as exhibiting a more depraved character in the criminal than crimes of a similar description committed on the land. At sea there are no constables or police officers, no magistrates or good citizens ready and willing to aid in preserving the peace of society, protecting life and property when endangered, and in arresting a rogue or murderer. For this reason laws relating to mutiny, piracy, and murder on the seas are punishable with death. In many atrocious cases it is difficult, perhaps impossible, to obtain proof sufficient to convict the offender; but whenever a violator of those laws, whether a principal or accessory, is arrested, tried, and convicted, THE PUNISHMENT SHOULD BE SURE TO FOLLOW. The certainty of punishment is a mighty preventive to crime. The impulses of that false philanthropy which seems to flourish in the present age, can never be more injuriously indulged than by persevering and unscrupulous efforts to influence the press and rouse public opinion in favor of setting aside the verdict of a jury, and snatching a red-handed murderer on the high seas from the gallows.
Nothing particularly remarkable occurred during our passage home. It was in the season of the year when severe gales are met with on the Atlantic, but the brig Joseph proved a good sea boat, tight as a drum, and could lie to or scud without danger of being overwhelmed by the combing waves. On this passage a little incident occurred off the Orkney Islands, that will convey some idea of the dangers to which those are subjected whose home is on the ocean.
We were lying to in a gale. The wind blew fiercely in flaws, and there was a high and turbulent sea running. The brig was at times uneasy, and in the pauses of the gale rolled heavily to windward as well as to leeward. Orders were given to send down the fore-top-gallant mast. I hastened with alacrity aloft for that purpose, and had reached the cross-trees, when in a lull of the tempest, the brig, lying in the trough of the sea, lurched fearfully to windward. I grasped firmly one of the top-gallant shrouds above the cross-trees, but the rope being old and decayed, parted in the horn of the cross-trees BENEATH MY HANDS.
I clung, with a desperate grasp, to the rope, but was thrown out with a jerk in an angle of forty-five degrees with the horizon, and when the brig suddenly righted I attained for a few seconds a horizontal position, and to an observer on deck must have looked not unlike a spread eagle burgee at half-mast. If I had relinquished my grasp at that moment I should have been thrown into the sea some thirty feet from the vessel's side, and a full period would have been put to the adventures of Hawser Martingale. But, notwithstanding the muscles of my arms were severely wrenched, I was fortunately able to retain my grasp. The next moment the action of gravitation, together with the roll to leeward, threw me back with terrific force against the topmast rigging, which I eagerly seized, and then rejoicing at my lucky escape from a great danger, and regardless of the bruises I had received, I went on with my work.
On the passage homeward I often indulged in reflections in regard to my future position in life; and while walking the deck at night loved to let my fancy roam and picture castles in the air, which, I fondly hoped, might at some future day be actually constructed. My highest ambition was to gain, as rapidly as possible, a thorough knowledge of my business, procure the command of a good ship, and by my own labors, acquire a competence before age should weaken the faculties or diminish a relish for society; and then, residing in my own house with a small piece of land attached which I could cultivate with my own hands, and within a few miles of the metropolis of New England, surrounded by a pleasant neighborhood, and enjoying domestic happiness in all its purity, gently sail down the stream of life.
This was not an extravagant dream. Yet the chances were at times terribly against its fulfilment. But I never despaired, and fully believed that if Providence should grant me life and continued health, THE CASTLE WOULD BE BUILT. In the darkest hours I kept a bright lookout ahead, far ahead for the cheerful and safe harbor which imagination had so often portrayed. And the dream has been realized almost precisely as it appeared to me in my youthful days; and I have enjoyed for many years, in the retirement which my fancy painted, as much happiness as usually falls to the lot of man in this checkered life, with a strong hope,