Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 1
You’re reading novel Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 1 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!
Lands of the Slave and the Free.
by Henry A. Murray.
A CHAPTER,
_Gratis and Explanatory_.
What is the use of a preface? Who wants a preface? Nay, more--what is a preface? Who can define it? That which it is most unlike is the mathematical myth called a point, which may be said to have neither length nor breadth, and consequently no existence; whereas a preface generally has extreme length, all the breadth the printer can give it, and an universal existence.
But if prefaces cannot be described with mathematical accuracy, they admit of cla.s.sification with most unmathematical inaccuracy. First, you have a large cla.s.s which may be called CLAIMERS. Ex.: One claims a certain degree of consideration, upon the ground that it is the author's first effort; a second claims indulgence, upon the ground of haste; a third claims attention, upon the ground of the magnitude and importance of the subject, &c. &c. Another large cla.s.s may be termed MAKERS. Ex.: One makes an excuse for tediousness; a second makes an apology for delay; a third makes his endeavours plead for favourable reception, &c.
Then again you have the INTERROGATOR, wherein a reader is found before the work is printed, convenient questions are put into his mouth, and ready replies are given, to which no rejoinder is permitted. This is very astute practice.--Then again there is the PUFFER AND CONDENSER, wherein, if matter be wanting in the work, a prefacial waggon is put before the chapteral pony, the former acting the part of pemican, or concentrated essence, the latter representing the liquid necessary for cooking it; the whole forming a _potage au lecteur_, known among professional men as "soldier's broth."
My own opinion on this important point is, that a book is nothing more nor less than a traveller; he is born in Fact or Fancy; he travels along a goose-quill; then takes a cruise to a printer's. On his return thence his health is discovered to be very bad; strong drastics are applied; he is gradually cooked up; and when convalescent, he puts on his Sunday clothes, and struts before the public. At this critical juncture up comes the typish master of the ceremonies, Mr. Preface, and commences introducing him to them; but knowing that both man and woman are essentially inquisitive, he follows the example of that ancient and shrewd traveller who, by way of saving time and trouble, opened his address to every stranger he accosted, in some such manner as the following:--"Sir, I am Mr. ----, the son of Mr. ----, by ----, his wife and my mother. I left ---- two days ago. I have got ---- in my carpet-bag. I am going to ---- to see Mr. ----, and to try and purchase some ----." Then followed the simple question for which an answer was wanted, "Will you lend me half-a-crown?" "Tell me the road;" "Give me a pinch of snuff;" or "Buy my book," as the case might be. The stranger, gratified with his candour, became immediately prepossessed in his favour. I will endeavour to follow the example of that 'cute traveller, and forestall those questions which I imagine the reader--if there be one--might wish to ask.
1. Why do I select a subject on which so many abler pens have been frequently and lately employed?--Because it involves so many important questions, both socially and politically, in a field where the changes are scarcely less rapid than the ever-varying hues on the dying dolphin; and because the eyes of mankind, whether mental or visual, are as different as their physiognomies; and thus those who are interested in the subject are enabled to survey it from different points of view.
2. Do I belong to any of those h.o.m.oeopathic communities called political parties?--I belong to none of them; I look upon all of them as so many drugs in a national apothecary's shop. All have their useful qualities, even the most poisonous; but they are frequently combined so injudiciously as to injure John Bull's health materially, especially as all have a strong phlebotomizing tendency, so much so, that I often see poor John in his prostration ready to cry out, "Throw Governments to the dogs--I'll none of them!" If in my writings I appear to show on some points a political bias, it is only an expression of those sentiments which my own common sense[B] and observation have led me to entertain on the subject under discussion, and for which I offer neither defence nor apology.
3. Am I an artist?--No; I am an author and a plagiarist. Every sketch in my book is taken from some other work, except the "Screecher," which is from the artistic pen of Lady G.M.; and the lovely form and features of the coloured sylph, for which I am indebted to my friend Mr. J.F.C.--You must not be too curious.--I consider myself justified in plagiarizing anything from anybody, if I conceive it will help to elucidate my subject or amuse my reader, provided always I have a reasonable ground for believing the source is one with which the general reader is not likely to be acquainted. But when I do steal, I have the honesty to confess it.
4. What is my book about?--It treats of an island, a confederacy and a colony; and contains events of travel, facts and thoughts concerning people, telegraphs, railroads, ca.n.a.ls, steam, rivers, commercial prosperity, education, the Press, low literature, slavery, government, &c. &c.
5. What security can I offer for the pretensions advanced being made good?--None whatever. Who takes me, must take me, like a wife, "for better for worse," only he is requested to remember I possess three distinct advantages over that lady.--First, you can look inside me as well as out: Secondly, you can get me more easily and keep me more cheaply: Thirdly, if you quarrel with me, you can get a divorce in the fire-place or at the trunkmaker's, without going to the House of Lords.
I trust I have now satisfied all the legitimate demands of curiosity.
I will only further remark that in some of my observations upon, the United States, such as travelling and tables-d'hote, the reader must bear in mind that in a land of so-called equality, whenever that principle is carried out, no comparison can be drawn accurately between similar subjects in the Republic and in England.
The society conveyed in one carriage in the States embraces the first, second, and third-cla.s.s pa.s.sengers of Great Britain; and the society fed at their tables-d'hote contains all the varieties found in this country, from the pavilion to the pot-house. If we strike a mean between the extremes as the measure of comfort thus obtained, it is obvious, that in proportion as the traveller is accustomed to superior comforts in this country, so will he write disparagingly of their want in the States, whereas people of the opposite extreme will with equal truth laud their superior comforts. The middle man is never found, for every traveller either praises or censures. However unreasonable it might be to expect the same refinements in a Republic of "Equal rights," as those which exist in some of the countries of the Old World under a system more favourable to their development, it is not the less a traveller's duty to record his impressions faithfully, leaving it to the reader to draw his own conclusions.
It was suggested to me to read several works lately published, and treating of the United States; but as I was most anxious to avoid any of that bias which such reading would most probably have produced, I have strictly avoiding so doing, even at the risk of repeating what others may have said before.
I have nothing further to add in explanation.--The horses are to.--The coach is at the door.--Chapter one is getting in.--To all who are disposed to accompany me in my journey, I say--Welcome!
H.A.M.
D 4, ALBANY, LONDON,
_1st June, 1855_.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote B: Perhaps "human instinct" might be a more modest expression.]
CHAPTER I.
_"Make ready ... Fire!" The Departure._
The preparations for the start of a traveller on a long journey are doubtless of every variety in quality and quant.i.ty, from the poor Arab, whose wife carries his house as well as all his goods--or perhaps I should rather say, from Sir Charles Napier of Scinde with his one flannel waistcoat and his piece of brown soap--up to the owners of the Dover waggon-looking "_fourgon_" who carry with them for a week's trip enough to last a century. My weakness, reader, is, I believe, a very common one, i.e., a desire to have everything, and yet carry scarce anything.
The difficulties of this arrangement are very perplexing to your servant, if you have one, as in my case. First you put out every conceivable article on the bed or floor, and then with an air of self-denial you say, "There, that will be enough;" and when you find an additional portmanteau lugged out, you ask with an air of astonishment (which may well astonish the servant), "What on earth are you going to do with that?" "To put your things into it, sir," is the very natural, reply; so, after a good deal of "Confound it, what a bore," &c., it ends in everything being again unpacked, a fresh lot thrown aside, and a new packing commenced; and believe me, reader, the oftener you repeat this discarding operation, the more pleasantly you will travel. I speak from experience, having, during my wanderings, lost everything by s.h.i.+pwreck, and thus been forced to pa.s.s through all the stages of quant.i.ty, till I once more burdened myself as unnecessarily as at starting.
It was a lovely September morning in 1852, when, having put my traps through the purging process twice, and still having enough for half-a-dozen people, I took my place in the early train from Euston-square for Liverpool, where I was soon housed in the Adelphi. A young American friend, who was going out in the same steamer on the following morning, proposed a little walk before the shades of evening closed in, as he had seen nothing of the city. Off we started, full of intentions never to be realized: I stepped into a cutler's shop to buy a knife; a nice-looking girl in the middle of her teens, placed one or two before me; I felt a nudge behind, and a voice whispered in my ear, "By George, what a pretty hand!" It was perfectly true; and so convinced was my friend of the fact, that he kept repeating it in my ear. When my purchase was completed, and the pretty hand retired, my friend exhibited symptoms of a strong internal struggle: it was too much for him. At last he burst out with, "Have you any scissors?"--Aside to me, "What a pretty little hand!"--Then came a demand for bodkins, then for needles, then for knives, lastly for thimbles, which my friend observed were too large, and begged might be tried on her taper fingers. He had become so enthusiastic, and his asides to me were so rapid, that I believe he would have bought anything which those dear little hands had touched.
Paterfamilias, who, while poring over his ledger, had evidently had his ears open, now became alarmed at the reduction that was going on in his stock, and consequently came forward to scrutinize the mysterious purchaser. I heard a voice muttering "Confound that old fellow!" as the dutiful daughter modestly gave place to papa; a Bank of England tenner pa.s.sed from my friend's smallclothes to the cutler's small till, and a half-crown _vice versa_. When we got to the door it was pitch dark; and thus ended our lionizing of the public buildings of Liverpool.
On the way back to the hotel, as my companion was thinking aloud, I heard him alternately muttering in soft tones, "What a pretty hand," and then, in harsh and hasty tones, '"Confound," ... "crusty old fellow;"
and reflecting thereon, I came to the conclusion that if the expressions indicated weakness, they indicated that pardonable civilizing weakness, susceptibility to the charms of beauty; and I consequently thought more kindly of my future fellow-traveller. In the evening we were joined by my brother and a young officer of the Household Brigade, who were to be fellow-pa.s.sengers in our trip across the Atlantic.
Early morning witnessed a procession of hackney coaches, laden as though we were bent on permanent emigration. Arrived at the quay, a small, wretched-looking steamer was lying alongside, to receive us and our goods for transport to the leviathan lying in mid-channel, with her steam up ready for a start.
The operation of disposing of the pa.s.sengers' luggage in this wretched little tea-kettle was amusing enough in its way. Everybody wanted everybody else's traps to be put down, below, and their own little this, and little that, kept up: one group, a man, wife, and child, particularly engaged my attention; the age of the child, independent of the dialogue, showed that the honeymoon was pa.s.sed.
WIFE.--"Now, William, my dear, _do_ keep that little box up!"
HUSBAND.--"Hi! there; keep that hat-box of mine up!" (_Aside_,) "Never mind your box, my dear, _it_ wont hurt."
WIFE.--"Oh, William, there's my little cap-box going down! it will be broken, in pieces."
HUSBAND.--"Oh! don't be afraid, my dear, they'll take care of it. Stop, my man, that's my desk; give it me here," &c. &c.
The dialogue was brought to a sudden stop by the frantic yell of the juvenile pledge of their affections, whose years had not yet reached two figures; a compact little iron-bound box had fallen on his toe, and the poor little urchin's pilliloo, pilliloo, was pitiful. Mamma began hugging and kissing, while papa offered that handy consolation of, "Never mind, that's a good boy; don't cry." In the meantime, the Jacks had profited by the squall, and, when it ceased, the happy couple had the satisfaction of seeing all their precious boxes buried deep in the hold.
The stream of luggage having stopped, and the human cargo being all on board, we speedily cast off our las.h.i.+ngs, and started: fortunately, it was fine weather, for, had there been rain, our ricketty tea-kettle would have afforded us no protection whatever. On reaching the leviathan, the pa.s.sengers rushed up hastily, and, armed with walking-sticks or umbrellas, planted themselves like sentries on the deck. As the Jacks came tumbling up with the luggage, shouts of "Hi!
that's mine," rent the air; and if Jack, in the hurry and confusion, did not attend to the cry, out would dart one or other with umbrella or stick, as the case might be, and harpoon him under the fifth rib; for, with a heavy burden on his head and shoulders, necessarily supported by both hands, defence was impossible. I must say, Jack took it all in good humour, and filing a bill "STOMACH _v_. RIBS," left it to Old Neptune to obtain rest.i.tution for injuries inflicted on his sons. I believe those who have once settled their accounts with that sea-deity are not more anxious to be brought into his court again, than those who have enjoyed the prolonged luxury of a suit in Chancery.
Everything must have an end; so, the mail agent arriving with his postal cargo, on goes the steam, and off goes the "Africa," Captain Harrison.
"Some wave the hand, and some begin to cry, Some take a weed, and nodding, say good-bye."
I am now fairly off for New York, with a brother and two friends; we have each pinned our card to the red table-cover in the saloon, to indicate our permanent positions at the festive board during the voyage.
Unless there is some peculiarity in arrangement or circ.u.mstance, all voyages resemble each other so much, that I may well spare you the dullness of repet.i.tion. Stewards will occasionally upset a soup-plate, and it will sometimes fall inside the waistcoat of a "swell," who travelling for the first time, thinks it requisite to "get himself up"
as if going to the Opera. People under the influence of some internal and irresistible agency, will occasionally spring from the table with an energy that is but too soon painfully exhausted, upsetting a few side dishes as their feet catch the corner of the cloth. Others will rise, and try to look dignified and composed, the hypocrisy whereof is unpleasantly revealed ere they reach the door of the saloon; others eat and drink with an ever-increasing vigour, which proves irresistibly the truth of the saying, "_L'appet.i.t vient en mangeant_." Heads that walked erect, puffing cigars like human chimneys in the Mersey, hang listless and 'baccoless in the Channel (Mem., "Pride goes before a fall").
Ladies, whose rosy cheeks and bright eyes, dimmed with the parting tear, had, as they waved the last adieu, told of buoyant health and spirits, gather mysteriously to the sides of the vessel, ready for any emergency, or lie helpless in their berths, resigning themselves to the ubiquitous stewardess, indifferent even to death itself. Others, again, whose interiors have been casehardened by Old Neptune, patrol the deck, and, if the pa.s.sengers are numerous, congratulate each other in the most heartless manner by the observation, "There'll be plenty of room in the saloon, if this jolly breeze continues!"
All these things are familiar to most travellers, suffice it, therefore, to say, that on the present occasion Old Neptune was in a good humour, "the jolly breeze" did not last long, nor was it ever very jolly. My American friend and the Household Brigade-man tried very hard to make out that they felt sick at first, but I believe I succeeded in convincing them that it was all imagination, for they both came steadily to meals, and between them and my brother, who has the appet.i.te of a p.a.w.nee when at sea, I found that a modest man like myself got but "monkey's allowance" of the champagne which I had prescribed as a medicine, erroneously imagining that those internal qualms usually produced by a sea voyage would have enabled me to enjoy the lion's share.
We saw nothing during the voyage but a few strange sail and a couple of icebergs, the latter very beautiful when seen in the distance, with the sea smooth as a mirror, and the sun's rays striking upon them. I felt very thankful the picture was not reversed; the idea of running your nose against an iceberg, in the middle of a dark night, with a heavy gale blowing and sea running, was anything but pleasant.
In due time we made Cape Race. I merely mention the fact for the purpose of observing that the captain, and others to whom I have spoken since, unanimously agree in condemning the position of the lighthouse; first, as not being placed on the point a vessel from Europe would make, inasmuch as that point is further north and east; and secondly, because vessels coasting northwards are not clear of danger if they trend away westward after pa.s.sing the light. There may be some advantages to the immediate neighbourhood, but, for the general purposes of navigation, its position is a mistake, and has, on more than one occasion, been very nearly the cause of the wreck of one of our large steamers[C].
Early on the morning of the tenth day I heard voices outside my cabin saying, "Well, they've got the pilot on board," _ergo_, we must be nearing our haven. In the Channel at home you know a pilot by a foul-weather hat, a pea-coat, broad shoulders, and weather-beaten cheeks; here, the captain had told me that I could always know them by a polished beaver and a satin or silk waistcoat. When I got on deck, sure enough there was the beaver hat and the silk vest, but what struck me most, was the wearer, a slim youth, hardly out of his teens. In the distance, the New York pilot-boat, a build rendered famous by the achievements of the "America," at Cowes, lay on the water like a duck, with her canvas white as snow, and taut as a deal board. The perfect ease and nonchalance of the young pilot amused me immensely, and all went on smoothly enough till the shades of evening closed in upon us; at which time, entering the Narrows, the satin-vested youth felt himself quite nonplused, despite his taking off his beaver, and trying to scratch for knowledge; in short, had it not been for Captain Harrison, who is a first-rate seaman and navigator, as all who ever sail with him are ready to testify, we might have remained out all night: fortunately, his superior skill got us safe in, and no easy task I a.s.sure you is it, either to find the channel, or to thread your way through hosts of s.h.i.+pping, in one of these leviathan steamers.
Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 1
You're reading novel Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 1 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.
Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 1 summary
You're reading Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 1. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Henry A. Murray already has 756 views.
It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.
LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com
- Related chapter:
- Lands of the Slave and the Free Part 2