The Perils and Adventures of Harry Skipwith by Land and Sea. Kingston William Henry Giles
never hear anything more of you; or something else dreadful will happen to you, I am certain.”
“Never mind, Aunt Becky; I shall be embalmed in your memory, at all events,” I answered; “and besides, I am going to have a companion to look after me.”
“Who can he be who would venture to accompany such a harum-scarum fellow as you are, Harry?” said my aunt, looking more satisfied.
“One who has ever proved faithful, aunt: his name is Ready.”
“Why, he’s your dog, Harry!” she exclaimed, disappointed.
“Could I have a more trustworthy and, at the same time, active and intelligent follower?” I asked. “I had thought of taking Bunbry,” (he was my father’s old butler, and remarkable for his obesity and laziness); “but you see, aunt, in the first place, my father could not spare him; and, in the second, he could not exactly keep up with me on a day’s march of thirty or forty miles, and would certainly be nowhere when chasing wild buffaloes, or hunting panthers or grizzly bears. So I gave up the idea of having a servant at all; and as for a friend, I don’t happen to be supplied with one ready to go, and I hope to find plenty on the way.”
Having at length consoled Aunt Becky, by assuring her that I would take very good care of myself, and promising to bring her home trophies from all the lands I should visit, I gave her a parting kiss, in return for her blessing, and a few days afterwards I found myself, with Liverpool astern, sailing down the Mersey on board the good ship Liberty, bound for New Orleans, which the people on board pronounced New Orle-e-ens.
The striped and starry banner waved over our heads. “There, now, that’s the flag of flags,” said the skipper, pointing to it. “You Britishers talk of your flag which has ‘braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze,’ but I guess that flag of ours will be flying proudly in every quarter of the globe when your old obsolete government will have come to a consummate smash.” He looked so savage at me, that Ready would have flown at his leg, had I not held him back.
I was determined not to be put out of temper, so I answered quietly —
“Now, captain, I should be very happy to suppose that your stars and stripes will fly to the end of the world; but I do not see why the banner of old England should not be allowed to wave as long. There’s room for both of us, surely. It’s my principle to live and let live.”
“Why, stranger, because you are not a nation of free men, you don’t know what true liberty is,” he replied, gnashing his teeth in a way which made Ready show his in return.
“Our old obsolete government showed that it appreciated liberty when, at a vast cost, it knocked off the shackles from every slave owned by a Briton,” I observed, calmly.
“I guess you’d better not touch on that there subject, stranger, when you get to New Orle-e-ens, or Judge Lynch may have a word to say to you,” croaked out the skipper, curling his nose, and giving a malicious wink at me while he squirted a stream of tobacco juice into the eye of poor Ready, who went howling round the deck with pain.
I took the hint, and held my tongue on the dark subject. It’s ill to talk of the gallows to a man whose father has been hung, and none but a Knight of La Mancha runs a tilt against windmills when travelling in foreign lands. Still, I say, do not do at Rome as Rome does, but protest, if not loudly, silently – by your conduct – against vice and immorality, and all the abominations you may meet with.
We had a large number of emigrants on board, who were fully persuaded that they were going to enjoy not only the most perfect government under the sun, but every blessing this world can supply. Poor people! how different did they find the reality. We kept to the southward of that mighty stream which, coming out of the Gulf of Mexico, sweeps away north, across the Atlantic, and, with its well-heated waters, adds considerably to the warmth of our shores at home. We saw neither floating icebergs, whales, nor sea serpents, but had several births and deaths, and at last made the island of St. Thomas, which appeared floating like a blue cloud on the ocean. As we drew nearer, a vast mountain rose before us, seemingly, directly out of the water, having a sterile summit, sprinkled round with spots of refreshing verdure. The harbour is in the form of an amphitheatre, and the land round, with its glittering white town on three hills, its old fort advancing into the sea, its green valleys, groves of cocoa-nuts, and fields of sugar-cane, is a highly picturesque spot. We put in to get a supply of water, fruit, vegetables, and fresh provisions; but, as the yellow fever was at the time carrying off about twenty of the inhabitants a day, negroes and mulattoes as well as white people, I was satisfied with admiring its beauties at a distance. Putting to sea again as fast as we could, we weathered the north-western point of Cuba, and entered the Gulf of Mexico, between that island and Florida.
About a week afterwards vast numbers of logs of wood, floating in yellow water, indicated that we were at the mouths of the Mississippi, for, of course, a mighty stream a thousand miles long, would not be content with one mouth, like our poor little humble Thames. The scenery, consisting of mud-banks and swamps, as far as the eye can reach, is not very attractive. It is curious to look back after making numerous windings, and to observe the sea over the mud-banks, considerably lower than the water on which the ship is floating. With a fair wind stemming the stream for a hundred and thirty miles, we found ourselves amid a crowd of vessels of all nations off New Orleans, the capital of Louisiana. It is a large handsome looking city, but, as the ground on which it stands is lower than the surface of the river, I could not help feeling, while I was there, that some night I might find myself washed out of my bed by its muddy waters.
Intending to return to New Orleans, I left my traps at my hotel, and embarked with Ready on board a huge steamer bound up the Mississippi. A cockney might describe her as like a Thames wherry with an omnibus on the top of it, and vast paddles outside all. I found that passengers could only ascend to the upper saloon, which ran the whole length of the vessel, the roof being of necessity sacred to the officers and crew. There were numerous galleries, however, on each side of the paddle-boxes, and forward and aft, whence I could observe the scenery. It was not very attractive, consisting chiefly of low swamps – the habitations of alligators and rattlesnakes. Here and there were more elevated spots, on which villages were perched, and patches where once the forest grew, but which were now covered with fields of sugar-cane, maize, and cotton bushes.
We were dashing on at a prodigious rate – I fancy the engineer must have been sitting on the safety-valve – when, feeling a dreadful concussion, and being thrown forward with my nose on the deck, I heard those around me exclaim, “Snagged!” “We are sinking!” A snag is a log of timber stuck sloping in the mud. Against one of these snags we had run. Down, down sank the huge machine. “Aunt Becky forgot to mention this, among the other modes of losing my life which she enumerated,” I thought to myself. “She forgot that Mississippi steamers could sink as well as blow up.” However, I had no intention of going out of the world just then, if I could help it.
The river was at that part very wide and shallow; but I observed an island not far off, and I hoped to reach it. If there were any boats round the vessel, there was no time to lower them. The awful plunge came. Some hundred human beings were hurled amid the turbid waters. Many were carried down with the vessel; others were shrieking piteously, and struggling for life. The weather was intensely hot. I had on but little clothing. I struck out towards the island. As I did so, the thought occurred to me, “For what purpose was my great strength given me? Surely to be of use to my fellow-creatures. I can save one of these poor people at all events.” I turned back. The first person I saw was a poor lad, who had been my fellow-passenger on board the Liberty. I had more than once spoken to him. His name was Peter. “Help, help!” he shrieked out. “Oh, Mr Skipwith, save me.” I caught him by the collar, and threw him on to my back. “There, Peter,” said I, “cling on, but don’t touch my arms, and, with Heaven’s support, I’ll carry you on shore.” The lad made no answer, but did as I bade him, and away Ready and I swam towards the island. I cannot forget the shrieks and cries for help of the unfortunate beings drowning round me. Now an arm was lifted up; now two hands in the attitude of supplication. Now the countenance of some strong man full of horror and despair came into view. Women and children were floating about, held up for a while by their clothes, and others were clinging to chairs, and stools, and bits