Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone. Reid Mayne
nor explain. Because she had once acted foolishly, was not positive proof that she still continued the victim of her unfortunate infatuation.
The mere conjecture that my mother had emigrated to Australia, would not have been a sufficient reason for my going so far in search of her – so far away from Lenore. Still it was certain I must go somewhere. I had a fortune to make; and, in my belief, Liverpool was the last place where an honest man would have stood any chance in making it.
My clothing had become threadbare, and my hat and boots were worn to such a dilapidated condition, that I became every day more ashamed to pay my visits to Lenore. I at length resolved upon discontinuing them.
I arose one morning, with the determination of making a move of some kind during the day: for the life that I had been leading for the past six weeks could be endured no longer.
I made an excursion to the docks, where I soon succeeded in finding a berth; and shipped for the “run” in a large vessel – a “liner” – bound to New York. This business being settled, I proceeded to the house of Mrs Hyland – to bid her and her daughter “good-bye.”
They showed every evidence of regret at my departure; and yet they did not urge me very strenuously to remain: for they knew something of my disposition.
I had a long conversation with Lenore alone.
“Miss Hyland,” said I, “I am going in search of a fortune – a fortune that must be obtained by hard toil; but that toil shall be sweetened by hope – the hope of seeing you again. We are both young; and the knowledge of that gives me encouragement to hope. I shall not now speak to you of love; but I shall do so on my return. I believe that we are friends; but I wish to make myself worthy of something more than your friendship.”
I fancied that Lenore understood me. I cannot describe the exquisite pleasure that thrilled me, as I noted the expression of her features while she stood listening. It did not forbid me to hope.
“I will not try to detain you, Rowland,” she answered, “but if you are unsuccessful abroad, do not remain long away. Return to us; and you will find those who can sympathise with your disappointments. I shall pray that no harm may befall you; and that we may soon meet again.”
I could perceive her bosom trembling with some strong emotion, as she uttered these parting words.
As I took her hand to bid the final “good bye,” we were both unable to speak; and we parted in silence.
The memory of that parting cheered me through many a dark and stormy hour of my after life.
Volume One – Chapter Sixteen.
Atlantic Liners
Perhaps the most worthless characters, who follow the sea as a profession, are to be found among the crews of Atlantic liners – especially those trafficking between Liverpool and New York.
These men seldom make voyages to any other ports, than the two above mentioned; and their custom is to “ship for the run” in one vessel, and return in another. They do not affect long voyages; and prefer that between Liverpool and New York to any other.
There are several reasons for this preference on their part.
One is the facility with which – on an Atlantic liner – they can rob each other, and steal from the passengers.
Another is, that being, even for seamen, a profligate, dissipated set, these short voyages give them more frequent opportunities of being in port – where they can indulge in the vices and habits so congenial to their vulgar tastes.
A third reason is, the great number of emigrant-passengers carried between those ports, along with the loose observance of the Passenger Act – the rules of which are less strictly enforced upon Atlantic liners, than aboard ships going on longer voyages.
It may be inferred from this, that the ruffians comprising the crews of the Atlantic liners, have a better opportunity of plundering the passengers than in any other ships.
When embarking on one of these vessels to recommence my duties as a seaman, I was not encumbered with much luggage; and I was not very long in her forecastle, before discovering that this was rather an advantage than a misfortune!
I had spent so much of my money, that I should have been absolutely unable to buy an outfit for any other “trip” than that between Liverpool and New York.
The less a sailor takes aboard with him on such a voyage, the less will he lose before it is terminated.
One of the crew of the ship in which I sailed, was a young seaman, who had never made the voyage from Liverpool to New York; and therefore lacked experience of the evil doings incidental to such a trip. He had been foolish enough to bring on board a large “kit” of good clothing. The first night out of port, when this young man was keeping his watch on deck, one of his comrades below took notice of his chest.
“It’s locked,” said the man, stretching out his hand to try the lid.
“Blast him!” cried another, “I suppose he thinks we are all thieves here!”
“Sarve him right if he were to lose every-things that’s in it,” significantly remarked a third.
“So say I,” chimed in a fourth speaker, drawing nearer to the kit, in order to be at hand in case of a scramble – which the moment after was commenced.
The chest was turned over, all hands taking share in the act; and without further ado, its bottom was knocked in. Most of the sailor’s effects were pulled out, and scattered about – each of the ruffians appropriating to himself some article which he fancied.
Amongst other things, was a new pair of heavy horseskin boots, which were obtained by a fellow, who chanced to stand in need of them; and who pulled them on upon the spot.
The next day, the young sailor having missed his property, of course created a disturbance about it. For this, he was only laughed at by the rest of the crew.
He complained to the officers.
“Had your clothes stole, have you?” carelessly inquired the first mate. “Well, that’s what you might have expected. Some of the boys are queer fellows, I dare say. You should have taken better care of your togs – if you cared anything about them.”
The next day, the young sailor saw one of the men with the stolen boots upon his feet, and at once accused the wearer of the theft. But the only satisfaction he obtained, was that of getting kicked with his own boots!
We had on board between three and four hundred passengers – most of them Irish and German emigrants.
Several deaths occurred amongst these poor people. Whenever one of them died, the fact would be reported to the officers; and then the first mate would order the sailmaker to enclose the body in a sack – for the purpose of its being thrown overboard. This command to the sailmaker was generally given as follows:
“Sails! there’s a dead ’un below. Go down, and sack ’im.”
As these words were heard by the passengers – alas! too often repeated – the sailmaker was known during the remainder of the voyage by the name of Mr Sackem; and this unfortunate functionary became an object of mysterious dread to many of the passengers – especially the women and children.
Women generally have a great horror of seeing the dead body of any of their relatives thrown into the sea; and Mr Sackem incurred the ill-will of many of the female emigrants, who were simple enough to think that he was someway or other to blame for the bodies being disposed of in this off-hand, and apparently unfeeling fashion!
A young child – one of a large family of Irish people – had died one night; and the next morning the sailmaker went into the steerage where the body lay – to prepare it for interment in the usual way.
The first attempt made by Mr Sackem, towards the performance of his duty, brought upon him an assault from the relatives of the deceased child, backed by several others who had been similarly bereaved!
Poor Sails was fortunate in getting back upon deck with his life; and he came up from the hatchway below