CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE BURDEN WHEREOF, IS HAIL COLUMBIA!
A dark and dreary night; people nestling in their beds or circlinglate about the fire; Want, colder than Charity, shivering at the streetcorners; church-towers humming with the faint vibration of their owntongues, but newly resting from the ghostly preachment 'One!' The earthcovered with a sable pall as for the burial of yesterday; the clumps ofdark trees, its giant plumes of funeral feathers, waving sadly to andfro: all hushed, all noiseless, and in deep repose, save the swiftclouds that skim across the moon, and the cautious wind, as, creepingafter them upon the ground, it stops to listen, and goes rustling on,and stops again, and follows, like a savage on the trail.
Whither go the clouds and wind so eagerly? If, like guilty spirits, theyrepair to some dread conference with powers like themselves, in whatwild regions do the elements hold council, or where unbend in terribledisport?
Here! Free from that cramped prison called the earth, and out upon thewaste of waters. Here, roaring, raging, shrieking, howling, all nightlong. Hither come the sounding voices from the caverns on the coast ofthat small island, sleeping, a thousand miles away, so quietly in themidst of angry waves; and hither, to meet them, rush the blasts fromunknown desert places of the world. Here, in the fury of their uncheckedliberty, they storm and buffet with each other, until the sea, lashedinto passion like their own, leaps up, in ravings mightier than theirs,and the whole scene is madness.
On, on, on, over the countless miles of angry space roll the longheaving billows. Mountains and caves are here, and yet are not; forwhat is now the one, is now the other; then all is but a boiling heap ofrushing water. Pursuit, and flight, and mad return of wave on wave, andsavage struggle, ending in a spouting-up of foam that whitens theblack night; incessant change of place, and form, and hue; constancy innothing, but eternal strife; on, on, on, they roll, and darker grows thenight, and louder howls the wind, and more clamorous and fierce becomethe million voices in the sea, when the wild cry goes forth upon thestorm 'A ship!'
Onward she comes, in gallant combat with the elements, her tall maststrembling, and her timbers starting on the strain; onward she comes, nowhigh upon the curling billows, now low down in the hollows of the sea,as hiding for the moment from its fury; and every storm-voice in the airand water cries more loudly yet, 'A ship!'
Still she comes striving on; and at her boldness and the spreading cry,the angry waves rise up above each other's hoary heads to look; andround about the vessel, far as the mariners on the decks can pierce intothe gloom, they press upon her, forcing each other down and starting up,and rushing forward from afar, in dreadful curiosity. High over herthey break; and round her surge and roar; and giving place to others,moaningly depart, and dash themselves to fragments in their baffledanger. Still she comes onward bravely. And though the eager multitudecrowd thick and fast upon her all the night, and dawn of day discoversthe untiring train yet bearing down upon the ship in an eternity oftroubled water, onward she comes, with dim lights burning in her hull,and people there, asleep; as if no deadly element were peering in atevery seam and chink, and no drowned seaman's grave, with but a plank tocover it, were yawning in the unfathomable depths below.
Among these sleeping voyagers were Martin and Mark Tapley, who, rockedinto a heavy drowsiness by the unaccustomed motion, were as insensibleto the foul air in which they lay, as to the uproar without. It wasbroad day when the latter awoke with a dim idea that he was dreamingof having gone to sleep in a four-post bedstead which had turned bottomupwards in the course of the night. There was more reason in this too,than in the roasting of eggs; for the first objects Mr Tapley recognizedwhen he opened his eyes were his own heels--looking down to him, as heafterwards observed, from a nearly perpendicular elevation.
'Well!' said Mark, getting himself into a sitting posture, after variousineffectual struggles with the rolling of the ship. 'This is the firsttime as ever I stood on my head all night.'
'You shouldn't go to sleep upon the ground with your head to leewardthen,' growled a man in one of the berths.
'With my head to WHERE?' asked Mark.
The man repeated his previous sentiment.
'No, I won't another time,' said Mark, 'when I know whereabouts on themap that country is. In the meanwhile I can give you a better piece ofadvice. Don't you nor any other friend of mine never go to sleep withhis head in a ship any more.'
The man gave a grunt of discontented acquiescence, turned over in hisberth, and drew his blanket over his head.
'--For,' said Mr Tapley, pursuing the theme by way of soliloquy in a lowtone of voice; 'the sea is as nonsensical a thing as any going. It neverknows what to do with itself. It hasn't got no employment for itsmind, and is always in a state of vacancy. Like them Polar bears in thewild-beast shows as is constantly a-nodding their heads from side toside, it never CAN be quiet. Which is entirely owing to its uncommonstupidity.'
'Is that you, Mark?' asked a faint voice from another berth.
'It's as much of me as is left, sir, after a fortnight of this work,'Mr Tapley replied, 'What with leading the life of a fly, ever since I'vebeen aboard--for I've been perpetually holding-on to something or otherin a upside-down position--what with that, sir, and putting a verylittle into myself, and taking a good deal out of myself, there an't toomuch of me to swear by. How do you find yourself this morning, sir?'
'Very miserable,' said Martin, with a peevish groan. 'Ugh. This iswretched, indeed!'
'Creditable,' muttered Mark, pressing one hand upon his aching head andlooking round him with a rueful grin. 'That's the great comfort. It IScreditable to keep up one's spirits here. Virtue's its own reward. So'sjollity.'
Mark was so far right that unquestionably any man who retained hischeerfulness among the steerage accommodations of that noble andfast-sailing line-of-packet ship, 'THE SCREW,' was solely indebted tohis own resources, and shipped his good humour, like his provisions,without any contribution or assistance from the owners. A dark, low,stifling cabin, surrounded by berths all filled to overflowing with men,women, and children, in various stages of sickness and misery, is notthe liveliest place of assembly at any time; but when it is so crowded(as the steerage cabin of the Screw was, every passage out), thatmattresses and beds are heaped upon the floor, to the extinction ofeverything like comfort, cleanliness, and decency, it is liable tooperate not only as a pretty strong banner against amiability of temper,but as a positive encourager of selfish and rough humours. Mark feltthis, as he sat looking about him; and his spirits rose proportionately.
There were English people, Irish people, Welsh people, and Scotch peoplethere; all with their little store of coarse food and shabby clothes;and nearly all with their families of children. There were children ofall ages; from the baby at the breast, to the slattern-girl who was asmuch a grown woman as her mother. Every kind of domestic suffering thatis bred in poverty, illness, banishment, sorrow, and long travel in badweather, was crammed into the little space; and yet was there infinitelyless of complaint and querulousness, and infinitely more of mutualassistance and general kindness to be found in that unwholesome ark,than in many brilliant ballrooms.
Mark looked about him wistfully, and his face brightened as he looked.Here an old grandmother was crooning over a sick child, and rocking itto and fro, in arms hardly more wasted than its own young limbs; here apoor woman with an infant in her lap, mended another little creature'sclothes, and quieted another who was creeping up about her from theirscanty bed upon the floor. Here were old men awkwardly engaged in littlehousehold offices, wherein they would have been ridiculous but for theirgood-will and kind purpose; and here were swarthy fellows--giants intheir way--doing such little acts of tenderness for those about them,as might have belonged to gentlest-hearted dwarfs. The very idiot inthe corner who sat mowing there, all day, had his faculty of imitationroused by what he saw about him; and snapped his fingers to amuse acrying child.
'Now, then,' said Mark, nodding to a woman who was d
ressing her threechildren at no great distance from him--and the grin upon his face hadby this time spread from ear to ear--'Hand over one of them young 'unsaccording to custom.'
'I wish you'd get breakfast, Mark, instead of worrying with people whodon't belong to you,' observed Martin, petulantly.
'All right,' said Mark. 'SHE'll do that. It's a fair division of labour,sir. I wash her boys, and she makes our tea. I never COULD make tea, butany one can wash a boy.'
The woman, who was delicate and ill, felt and understood his kindness,as well she might, for she had been covered every night with hisgreatcoat, while he had for his own bed the bare boards and a rug. ButMartin, who seldom got up or looked about him, was quite incensed by thefolly of this speech, and expressed his dissatisfaction by an impatientgroan.
'So it is, certainly,' said Mark, brushing the child's hair as coolly asif he had been born and bred a barber.
'What are you talking about, now?' asked Martin.
'What you said,' replied Mark; 'or what you meant, when you gave thatthere dismal vent to your feelings. I quite go along with it, sir. It ISvery hard upon her.'
'What is?'
'Making the voyage by herself along with these young impediments here,and going such a way at such a time of the year to join her husband.If you don't want to be driven mad with yellow soap in your eye, youngman,' said Mr Tapley to the second urchin, who was by this time underhis hands at the basin, 'you'd better shut it.'
'Where does she join her husband?' asked Martin, yawning.
'Why, I'm very much afraid,' said Mr Tapley, in a low voice, 'that shedon't know. I hope she mayn't miss him. But she sent her last letter byhand, and it don't seem to have been very clearly understood between 'emwithout it, and if she don't see him a-waving his pocket-handkerchief onthe shore, like a pictur out of a song-book, my opinion is, she'll breakher heart.'
'Why, how, in Folly's name, does the woman come to be on board ship onsuch a wild-goose venture!' cried Martin.
Mr Tapley glanced at him for a moment as he lay prostrate in his berth,and then said, very quietly:
'Ah! How indeed! I can't think! He's been away from her for two year;she's been very poor and lonely in her own country; and has always beena-looking forward to meeting him. It's very strange she should be here.Quite amazing! A little mad perhaps! There can't be no other way ofaccounting for it.'
Martin was too far gone in the lassitude of sea-sickness to make anyreply to these words, or even to attend to them as they were spoken. Andthe subject of their discourse returning at this crisis with some hottea, effectually put a stop to any resumption of the theme by Mr Tapley;who, when the meal was over and he had adjusted Martin's bed, went up ondeck to wash the breakfast service, which consisted of two half-pint tinmugs, and a shaving-pot of the same metal.
It is due to Mark Tapley to state that he suffered at least as much fromsea-sickness as any man, woman, or child, on board; and that he had apeculiar faculty of knocking himself about on the smallest provocation,and losing his legs at every lurch of the ship. But resolved, in hisusual phrase, to 'come out strong' under disadvantageous circumstances,he was the life and soul of the steerage, and made no more of stoppingin the middle of a facetious conversation to go away and be excessivelyill by himself, and afterwards come back in the very best and gayest oftempers to resume it, than if such a course of proceeding had been thecommonest in the world.
It cannot be said that as his illness wore off, his cheerfulness andgood nature increased, because they would hardly admit of augmentation;but his usefulness among the weaker members of the party was muchenlarged; and at all times and seasons there he was exerting it. Ifa gleam of sun shone out of the dark sky, down Mark tumbled into thecabin, and presently up he came again with a woman in his arms, orhalf-a-dozen children, or a man, or a bed, or a saucepan, or a basket,or something animate or inanimate, that he thought would be the betterfor the air. If an hour or two of fine weather in the middle of the daytempted those who seldom or never came on deck at other times to crawlinto the long-boat, or lie down upon the spare spars, and try to eat,there, in the centre of the group, was Mr Tapley, handing about saltbeef and biscuit, or dispensing tastes of grog, or cutting up thechildren's provisions with his pocketknife, for their greater ease andcomfort, or reading aloud from a venerable newspaper, or singing someroaring old song to a select party, or writing the beginnings of lettersto their friends at home for people who couldn't write, or crackingjokes with the crew, or nearly getting blown over the side, or emerging,half-drowned, from a shower of spray, or lending a hand somewhere orother; but always doing something for the general entertainment. Atnight, when the cooking-fire was lighted on the deck, and the drivingsparks that flew among the rigging, and the clouds of sails, seemed tomenace the ship with certain annihilation by fire, in case the elementsof air and water failed to compass her destruction; there, again, was MrTapley, with his coat off and his shirt-sleeves turned up to his elbows,doing all kinds of culinary offices; compounding the strangest dishes;recognized by every one as an established authority; and helping allparties to achieve something which, left to themselves, they never couldhave done, and never would have dreamed of. In short, there never was amore popular character than Mark Tapley became, on board that noble andfast-sailing line-of-packet ship, the Screw; and he attained at last tosuch a pitch of universal admiration, that he began to have grave doubtswithin himself whether a man might reasonably claim any credit for beingjolly under such exciting circumstances.
'If this was going to last,' said Tapley, 'there'd be no greatdifference as I can perceive, between the Screw and the Dragon. Inever am to get credit, I think. I begin to be afraid that the Fates isdetermined to make the world easy to me.'
'Well, Mark,' said Martin, near whose berth he had ruminated to thiseffect. 'When will this be over?'
'Another week, they say, sir,' returned Mark, 'will most likely bringus into port. The ship's a-going along at present, as sensible as a shipcan, sir; though I don't mean to say as that's any very high praise.'
'I don't think it is, indeed,' groaned Martin.
'You'd feel all the better for it, sir, if you was to turn out,'observed Mark.
'And be seen by the ladies and gentlemen on the after-deck,' returnedMartin, with a scronful emphasis upon the words, 'mingling with thebeggarly crowd that are stowed away in this vile hole. I should begreatly the better for that, no doubt.'
'I'm thankful that I can't say from my own experience what the feelingsof a gentleman may be,' said Mark, 'but I should have thought, sir, as agentleman would feel a deal more uncomfortable down here than up in thefresh air, especially when the ladies and gentlemen in the after-cabinknow just as much about him as he does about them, and are likely totrouble their heads about him in the same proportion. I should havethought that, certainly.'
'I tell you, then,' rejoined Martin, 'you would have thought wrong, anddo think wrong.'
'Very likely, sir,' said Mark, with imperturbable good temper. 'I oftendo.'
'As to lying here,' cried Martin, raising himself on his elbow, andlooking angrily at his follower. 'Do you suppose it's a pleasure to liehere?'
'All the madhouses in the world,' said Mr Tapley, 'couldn't produce sucha maniac as the man must be who could think that.'
'Then why are you forever goading and urging me to get up?' askedMartin, 'I lie here because I don't wish to be recognized, in the betterdays to which I aspire, by any purse-proud citizen, as the man who cameover with him among the steerage passengers. I lie here because I wishto conceal my circumstances and myself, and not to arrive in a new worldbadged and ticketed as an utterly poverty-stricken man. If I could haveafforded a passage in the after-cabin I should have held up my head withthe rest. As I couldn't I hide it. Do you understand that?'
'I am very sorry, sir,' said Mark. 'I didn't know you took it so much toheart as this comes to.'
'Of course you didn't know,' returned his master. 'How should youknow, unless I told you? It's no trial
to you, Mark, to make yourselfcomfortable and to bustle about. It's as natural for you to do so underthe circumstances as it is for me not to do so. Why, you don't supposethere is a living creature in this ship who can by possibility have halfso much to undergo on board of her as I have? Do you?' he asked, sittingupright in his berth and looking at Mark, with an expression of greatearnestness not unmixed with wonder.
Mark twisted his face into a tight knot, and with his head very muchon one side, pondered upon this question as if he felt it an extremelydifficult one to answer. He was relieved from his embarrassment byMartin himself, who said, as he stretched himself upon his back againand resumed the book he had been reading:
'But what is the use of my putting such a case to you, when the veryessence of what I have been saying is, that you cannot by possibilityunderstand it! Make me a little brandy-and-water--cold and veryweak--and give me a biscuit, and tell your friend, who is a nearerneighbour of ours than I could wish, to try and keep her children alittle quieter to-night than she did last night; that's a good fellow.'
Mr Tapley set himself to obey these orders with great alacrity, andpending their execution, it may be presumed his flagging spiritsrevived; inasmuch as he several times observed, below his breath, thatin respect of its power of imparting a credit to jollity, the Screwunquestionably had some decided advantages over the Dragon. He alsoremarked that it was a high gratification to him to reflect that hewould carry its main excellence ashore with him, and have it constantlybeside him wherever he went; but what he meant by these consolatorythoughts he did not explain.
And now a general excitement began to prevail on board; and variouspredictions relative to the precise day, and even the precise hourat which they would reach New York, were freely broached. There wasinfinitely more crowding on deck and looking over the ship's side thanthere had been before; and an epidemic broke out for packing up thingsevery morning, which required unpacking again every night. Those who hadany letters to deliver, or any friends to meet, or any settled plans ofgoing anywhere or doing anything, discussed their prospects a hundredtimes a day; and as this class of passengers was very small, and thenumber of those who had no prospects whatever was very large, there wereplenty of listeners and few talkers. Those who had been ill all along,got well now, and those who had been well, got better. An Americangentleman in the after-cabin, who had been wrapped up in fur and oilskinthe whole passage, unexpectedly appeared in a very shiny, tall, blackhat, and constantly overhauled a very little valise of pale leather,which contained his clothes, linen, brushes, shaving apparatus, books,trinkets, and other baggage. He likewise stuck his hands deep intohis pockets, and walked the deck with his nostrils dilated, as alreadyinhaling the air of Freedom which carries death to all tyrants, and cannever (under any circumstances worth mentioning) be breathed by slaves.An English gentleman who was strongly suspected of having run away froma bank, with something in his possession belonging to its strong boxbesides the key, grew eloquent upon the subject of the rights of man,and hummed the Marseillaise Hymn constantly. In a word, one greatsensation pervaded the whole ship, and the soil of America lay closebefore them; so close at last, that, upon a certain starlight night theytook a pilot on board, and within a few hours afterwards lay to untilthe morning, awaiting the arrival of a steamboat in which the passengerswere to be conveyed ashore.
Off she came, soon after it was light next morning, and lying alongsidean hour or more--during which period her very firemen were objects ofhardly less interest and curiosity than if they had been so many angels,good or bad--took all her living freight aboard. Among them Mark, whostill had his friend and her three children under his close protection;and Martin, who had once more dressed himself in his usual attire, butwore a soiled, old cloak above his ordinary clothes, until such time ashe should separate for ever from his late companions.
The steamer--which, with its machinery on deck, looked, as it worked itslong slim legs, like some enormously magnified insect or antediluvianmonster--dashed at great speed up a beautiful bay; and presently theysaw some heights, and islands, and a long, flat, straggling city.
'And this,' said Mr Tapley, looking far ahead, 'is the Land of Liberty,is it? Very well. I'm agreeable. Any land will do for me, after so muchwater!'