VOYAGE TO THE MOON.
CHAPTER I.
_Atterley's birth and education--He makes a voyage--Founders off theBurman coast--Adventures in that Empire--Meets with a learned Brahminfrom Benares._
Being about to give a narrative of my singular adventures to the world,which, I foresee, will be greatly divided about their authenticity,I will premise something of my early history, that those to whom I amnot personally known, may be better able to ascertain what credit isdue to the facts which rest only on my own assertion.
I was born in the village of Huntingdon, on Long-Island, on the 11th dayof May, 1786. Joseph Atterley, my father, formerly of East Jersey, as itwas once called, had settled in this place about a year before, inconsequence of having married my mother, Alice Schermerhorn, the onlydaughter of a snug Dutch farmer in the neighbourhood. By means of theportion he received with my mother, together with his own earnings,he was enabled to quit the life of a sailor, to which he had been bred,and to enter into trade. After the death of his father-in-law, by whosewill he received a handsome accession to his property, he sought, in thecity of New-York, a theatre better suited to his enlarged capital. Hehere engaged in foreign trade; and, partaking of the prosperity whichthen attended American commerce, he gradually extended his business, andfinally embarked in our new branch of traffic to the East Indies andChina. He was now very generally respected, both for his wealth and fairdealing; was several years a director in one of the insurance offices;was president of the society for relieving the widows and orphans ofdistressed seamen; and, it is said, might have been chosen alderman,if he had not refused, on the ground that he did not think himselfqualified.
My father was not one of those who set little value on book learning,from their own consciousness of not possessing it: on the contrary, hewould often remark, that as he felt the want of a liberal educationhimself, he was determined to bestow one on me. I was accordingly, atan early age, put to a grammar school of good repute in my native village,the master of which, I believe, is now a member of Congress; and, at theage of seventeen, was sent to Princeton, to prepare myself for someprofession. During my third year at that place, in one of my excursionsto Philadelphia, and for which I was always inventing pretexts, I becameacquainted with one of those faces and forms which, in a youth of twenty,to see, admire, and love, is one and the same thing. My attentions werefavourably received. I soon became desperately in love; and, in spite ofthe advice of my father and entreaties of my mother, who had formed otherschemes for me nearer home, I was married on the anniversary of mytwenty-first year.
It was not until the first trance of bliss was over, that I began tothink seriously on the course of life I was to pursue. From the timethat my mind had run on love and matrimony, I had lost all relish forserious study; and long before that time, I had felt a sentiment borderingon contempt for the pursuits of my father. Besides, he had already takenmy two younger brothers into the counting-house with him. I thereforeprevailed on my indulgent parent, with the aid of my mother's intercession,to purchase for me a neat country-seat near Huntingdon, which presented abeautiful view of the Sound, and where, surrounded by the scenes of mychildhood, I promised myself to realise, with my Susanna, that life oftranquil felicity which fancy, warmed by love, so vividly depicts.
If we did not meet with all that we had expected, it was because we hadexpected too much. The happiest life, like the purest atmosphere, hasits clouds as well as its sunshine; and what is worse, we never fullyknow the value of the one, until we have felt the inconvenience of theother. In the cultivation of my farm--in educating our children, a sonand two daughters, in reading, music, painting--and in occasional visitsto our friends in New-York and Philadelphia, seventeen years glidedswiftly and imperceptibly away; at the end of which time death, indepriving me of an excellent wife, made a wreck of my hopes and enjoyments.For the purpose of seeking that relief to my feelings which change ofplace only could afford, I determined to make a sea voyage; and, as oneof my father's vessels was about to sail for Canton, I accordinglyembarked on board the well-known ship the _Two Brothers_, captainThomas, and left Sandy-hook on the 5th day of June, 1822, having firstplaced my three children under the care of my brother William.
I will not detain the reader with a detail of the first incidents ofour voyage, though they were sufficiently interesting at the time theyoccurred, and were not wanting in the usual variety. We had, in singularsuccession, dead calms and fresh breezes, stiff gales and sudden squalls;saw sharks, flying-fish, and dolphins; spoke several vessels: had avisit from Neptune when we crossed the Line, and were compelled topropitiate his favour with some gallons of spirits, which he seemsalways to find a very agreeable change from sea water; and touched atTable Bay and at Madagascar.
On the whole, our voyage was comparatively pleasant and prosperous, untilthe 24th of October; when, off the mouths of the Ganges, after a fineclear autumnal day, just about sunset, a small dark speck was seen inthe eastern horizon by our experienced and watchful captain, who, afternoticing it for a few moments, pronounced that we should have a hurricane.The rapidity with which this speck grew into a dense cloud, and spreaditself in darkness over the heavens, as well as the increasing swell ofthe ocean before we felt the wind, soon convinced us he was right. Notime was lost in lowering our topmasts, taking double reefs, and makingevery thing snug, to meet the fury of the tempest. I thought I hadalready witnessed all that was terrific on the ocean; but what I hadformerly seen, had been mere child's play compared with this. Never canI forget the impression that was made upon me by the wild uproar of theelements. The smooth, long swell of the waves gradually changed into anagitated frothy surface, which constant flashes of lightning presentedto us in all its horror; and in the mean time the wind whistled throughthe rigging, and the ship creaked as if she was every minute going topieces.
About midnight the storm was at its height, and I gave up all for lost.The wind, which first blew from the south-west, was then due south, andthe sailors said it began to abate a little before day: but I saw nogreat difference until about three in the afternoon; soon after whichthe clouds broke away, and showed us the sun setting in cloudless majesty,while the billows still continued their stupendous rolling, but with aheavy movement, as if, after such mighty efforts, they were seekingrepose in the bosom of their parent ocean. It soon became almost calm;a light western breeze barely swelled our sails, and gently wafted usto the land, which we could faintly discern to the north-east. Our shiphad been so shaken in the tempest, and was so leaky, that captain Thomasthought it prudent to make for the first port we could reach.
At dawn we found ourselves in full view of a coast, which, though notpersonally known to the captain, he pronounced by his charts to be apart of the Burmese Empire, and in the neighbourhood of Mergui, on theMartaban coast. The leak had now increased to an alarming extent, sothat we found it would be impossible to carry the ship safe into port.We therefore hastily threw our clothes, papers, and eight casks ofsilver, into the long-boat; and before we were fifty yards from theship, we saw her go down. Some of the underwriters in New York, as Ihave since learnt, had the conscience to contend that we left the shipsooner than was necessary, and have suffered themselves to be sued forthe sums they had severally insured. It was a little after midday whenwe reached the town, which is perched on a high bluff, overlookingthe coasts, and contains about a thousand houses, built of bamboo,and covered with palm leaves. Our dress, appearance, language, andthe manner of our arrival, excited great surprise among the natives,and the liveliest curiosity; but with these sentiments some evidentlymingled no very friendly feelings. The Burmese were then on the eveof a rupture with the East India Company, a fact which we had not beforeknown; and mistaking us for English, they supposed, or affected tosuppose, that we belonged to a fleet which was about to invade them,and that our ship had been sunk before their eyes, by the tutelar divinityof the country. We were immediately carried before their governor,or chief magistrate, who ordered our baggage to be searched, and
findingthat it consisted principally of silver, he had no doubt of our hostileintentions. He therefore sent all of us, twenty-two in number, to prison,separating, however, each one from the rest. My companions were releasedthe following spring, as I have since learnt, by the invading army ofGreat Britain; but it was my ill fortune (if, indeed, after what hassince happened, I can so regard it) to be taken for an officer of highrank, and to be sent, the third day afterwards, far into the interior,that I might be more safely kept, and either used as a hostage or offeredfor ransom, as circumstances should render advantageous.
The reader is, no doubt, aware that the Burman Empire lies beyond theGanges, between the British possessions and the kingdom of Siam; andthat the natives nearly assimilate with those of Hindostan, in language,manners, religion, and character, except that they are more hardy andwarlike.
I was transported very rapidly in a palanquin, (a sort of decoratedlitter,) carried on the shoulders of four men, who, for greater despatch,were changed every three hours. In this way I travelled thirteen days,in which time we reached a little village in the mountainous districtbetween the Irawaddi and Saloon rivers, where I was placed under thecare of an inferior magistrate, called a Mirvoon, who there exercisedthe chief authority.
This place, named Mozaun, was romantically situated in a fertile valley,that seemed to be completely shut in by the mountains. A small river,a branch of the Saloon, entered it from the west, and, after runningabout four miles in nearly a straight direction, turned suddenly rounda steep hill to the south, and was entirely lost to view. The villagewas near a gap in the mountain, through which the river seemed to haveforced its way, and consisted of about forty or fifty huts, built ofthe bamboo cane and reeds. The house of my landlord was somewhat largerand better than the rest. It stood on a little knoll that overlookedthe village, the valley, the stream that ran through it, and commandeda distant view of the country beyond the gap. It was certainly a lovelylittle spot, as it now appears to my imagination; but when the landscapewas new to me, I was in no humour to relish its beauties, and when mymind was more in a state to appreciate them, they had lost their novelty.
My keeper, whose name was Sing Fou, and who, from a long exercise ofmagisterial authority, was rough and dictatorial, behaved to me somewhatharshly at first; but my patient submission so won his confidence andgood will, that I soon became a great favourite; was regarded more asone of his family than as a prisoner, and was allowed by him everyindulgence consistent with my safe custody. But the difficulties in theway of my escape were so great, that little restraint was imposed onmy motions. The narrow defile in the gap, through which the river rushedlike a torrent, was closed with a gate. The mountains, by which thevalley was hemmed in, were utterly impassable, thickly set as they werewith jungle, consisting of tangled brier, thorn and forest trees, ofwhich those who have never been in a tropical climate can form no adequateidea. In some places it would be difficult to penetrate more than amile in the day; during which time the traveller would be perpetuallytormented by noxious insects, and in constant dread of beasts of prey.
The only outlet from this village was by passing down the valley alongthe settlements, and following the course of the stream; so that therewas no other injunction laid on me, than not to extend my rambles farin that direction. Sing Fou's household consisted of his wife, whom Irarely saw, four small children, and six servants; and here I enjoyednearly as great a portion of happiness as in any part of my life.
It had been one of my favourite amusements to ramble towards a part ofthe western ridge, which rose in a cone about a mile and a half from thevillage, and there ascending to some comparatively level spot, or pointprojecting from its side, enjoy the beautiful scenery which lay beforeme, and the evening breeze, which has such a delicious freshness in atropical climate.
Nor was this all. In a deep sequestered nook, formed by two spurs of thismountain, there lived a venerable Hindoo, whom the people of the villagecalled the Holy Hermit. The favourable accounts I received of hischaracter, as well as his odd course of life, made me very desirousof becoming acquainted with him; and, as he was often visited by thevillagers, I found no difficulty in getting a conductor to his cell. Hischaracter for sanctity, together with a venerable beard, might havediscouraged advances towards an acquaintance, if his lively piercing eye,a countenance expressive of great mildness and kindness of disposition,and his courteous manners, had not yet more strongly invited it. He wasindeed not averse to society, though he had seemed thus to fly from it;and was so great a favourite with his neighbours, that his cell wouldhave been thronged with visitors, but for the difficulty of the approachto it. As it was, it was seldom resorted to, except for the purpose ofobtaining his opinion and counsel on all the serious concerns of hisneighbours. He prescribed for the sick, and often provided the medicinethey required--expounded the law--adjusted disputes--made all their littlearithmetical calculations--gave them moral instruction--and, when hecould not afford them relief in their difficulties, he taught thempatience, and gave them consolation. He, in short, united, for the simplepeople by whom he was surrounded, the functions of lawyer, physician,schoolmaster, and divine, and richly merited the reverential respect inwhich they held him, as well as their little presents of eggs, fruit, andgarden stuff.
From the first evening that I joined the party which I saw clambering upthe path that led to the Hermit's cell, I found myself strongly attachedto this venerable man, and the more so, from the mystery which hungaround his history. It was agreed that he was not a Burmese. None deemedto know certainly where he was born, or why he came thither. His ownaccount was, that he had devoted himself to the service of God, and inhis pilgrimage over the east, had selected this as a spot particularlyfavourable to the life of quiet and seclusion he wished to lead.
There was one part of his story to which I could scarcely give credit.It was said that in the twelve or fifteen years he had resided in thisplace, he had been occasionally invisible for months together, and noone could tell why he disappeared, or whither he had gone. At thesetimes his cell was closed; and although none ventured to force theirway into it, those who were the most prying could hear no sound indicatingthat he was within. Various were the conjectures formed on the subject.Some supposed that he withdrew from the sight of men for the purposeof more fervent prayer and more holy meditation; others, that he visitedhis home, or some other distant country. The more superstitious believedthat he had, by a kind of metempsychosis, taken a new shape, which, bysome magical or supernatural power, he could assume and put off atpleasure. This opinion was perhaps the most prevalent, as it gained acolour with these simple people, from the chemical and astronomicalinstruments he possessed. In these he evidently took great pleasure,and by their means he acquired some of the knowledge by which he sooften excited their admiration.
He soon distinguished me from the rest of his visitors, by addressingquestions to me relative to my history and adventures; and I, in turn,was gratified to have met with one who took an interest in my concerns,and who alone, of all I had here met with, could either enter into myfeelings or comprehend my opinions. Our conversations were carried onin English, which he spoke with facility and correctness. We soon foundourselves so much to each other's taste, that there was seldom an eveningthat I did not make him a visit, and pass an hour or two in his company.
I learnt from him that he was born and bred at Benares, in Hindostan;that he had been intended for the priesthood, and had been well instructedin the literature of the east. That a course of untoward circumstances,upon which he seemed unwilling to dwell, had changed his destination,and made him a wanderer on the face of the earth. That in the neighbouringkingdom of Siam he had formed an intimacy with a learned French Jesuit,who had not only taught him his language, but imparted to him a knowledgeof much of the science of Europe, its institutions and manners. That afterthe death of this friend, he had renewed his wanderings; and having beendetained in this village by a fit of sickness for some weeks, he waswarned that it was time to
quit his rambling life. This place beingrecommended to him, both by its quiet seclusion, and the unsophisticatedmanners of its inhabitants, he determined to pass the remnant of his dayshere, and, by devoting them to the purposes of piety, charity, andscience, to discharge his duty to his Creator, his species, and himself;"for the love of knowledge," he added, "has long been my chief source ofselfish enjoyment."
Our tastes and sentiments accorded in so many points, that our acquaintanceripened by degrees into the closest friendship. We were bothstrangers--both unfortunate; and were the only individuals here who had anyknowledge of letters, or of distant parts of the world. These are, indeed,the main springs of that sympathy, without which there is no love amongmen. It is being overwise, to treat with contempt what mankind hold inrespect: and philosophy teaches us not to extinguish our feelings, but tocorrect and refine them. My visits to the hermitage were frequently renewedat first, because they afforded me the relief of variety, whilst hisintimate knowledge of men and things--his remarkable sagacity and goodsense--his air of mingled piety and benignity,--cheated me intoforgetfulness of my situation. As these gradually yielded to the lenitivepower of time, I sought his conversation for the positive pleasure itafforded, and at last it became the chief source of my happiness. Day afterday, and month after month, glided on in this gentle, unvarying current,for more than three years; during which period he had occasionally thrownout dark hints that the time would come when I should be restored toliberty, and that he had an important secret, which he would one daycommunicate. I should have been more tantalized with the expectations thatthese remarks were calculated to raise, had I not suspected them to be agood-natured artifice, to save me from despondency, as they were never madeexcept when he saw me looking serious and thoughtful.