CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVII.London. Thames tunnel. Bank of England. St. Paul's Church. Westminster Abbey. The tower. Sail for St. Johns. A storm. Proceed to Londonderry. Its description. Wolf Rock. Sail for Holland. Burial at sea. Arrive at Hamburg. Its description. Come near going upon the sands. Dover cliffs and castle. Pilots. Eddystone light. A ship in distress with a drunken captain. Return to my family. Go to New Orleans. Sail for Glasgow. Go to Edinburgh. Go to St. Johns resolved to quit the sea. Build a house. Go to Savannah. Meet an old school fellow. Appointed chief mate. Gulf stream. A storm. Go home. Sail to Cork. Belfast. Thence to London. Return home. Imminent danger and narrow escape.London, the capital of England and metropolis of the British empire, is situated on the banks of the Thames, in the counties of Middlesex and Surrey, and within a day's journey of the southern shore of Britain.On the spot now occupied by the city, or more ancient part of the metropolis, which is on the left or northern bank of the Thames, a town had been built and possessed by the Romans eighteen centuries ago, and from that period it has constantly been the seat of the increasing and busy population. Its chief increase and improvement, however, have been since the great fire in 1666, which destroyed a large number of the old streets and public edifices.It is impossible by any written description to convey adequate ideas of the real magnitude of London. Indeed,it is not until after a person has been in the city for some months, that he begins to comprehend it. Every new walk opens to him streets, squares and divisions which he has never seen before. And even those places where he is most familiar, are discovered day by day to possess archways and thoroughfares within and around them, which had never been noticed before. Even people who have spent their whole lives in the city, often find streets and buildings, of which they had never before heard, and which they had never before seen.The Thames Tunnel which is the medium for communication between the Surrey and Middlesex sides of the river, was designed and carried into execution by a joint stock company, which, however, has been largely assisted by government. The tunnel consists of two avenues or arched vaults, beneath the river. Each avenue is of such height and breadth as to afford a beautiful walk, and is lighted with gas. It is about two miles below London bridge, and was begun in 1822.Standing in some measure behind the site of the Royal Exchange, facing Threadneedle street, are seen the extensive series of stone buildings containing the Bank of England. The whole buildings and courts include an area of about eight acres, and were completed in 1778. In 1832, there were employed in the bank 820 clerks and porters, and 38 printers and engravers. There were besides, 193 pensioners. The salaries and pensions amounted to £218,003; the house expenses, £39,187, and the allowance to directors, £8,000.These statistics will give the reader a better opportunityto judge of the enormous amount of business that this bank transacts annually.The hours at which the bank is open are from nine in the morning till five in the afternoon, holidays excepted.St. Paul's Church, which is built in the form of a Greek cross, is the most prominent object in London. It measures 514 feet in length, 286 in breadth, and 370 in height, to the topmost pinnacle. There are three porticoes at as many entrances, on the north, west, and south. That on the west is the principal, with twelve lofty Corinthian pillars below, and the angles above crowned with handsome bell towers, the size of ordinary church towers or steeples.The great bell of St. Paul's is only rung when a member of the royal family dies, and its fine deep tones can be distinctly heard at a distance of several miles. The great bell weighs four and a half tons, and is ten feet in diameter.Westminster Abbey is situated nearly opposite the houses of Parliament, and is open to inspection on the north and east, but on the west it is much crowded upon by dwelling-houses.In very early times this spot of ground was a small insular tract, surrounded by the waters of the Thames, and called Thorny Island. A monastic institution was founded here on the introduction of Christianity into Britain. An Abbey was raised upon the site of the ruined monastic building, under Edward the Confessor.The ground plan, as usual, bore the form of the cross. Rights and endowments were granted, and the edifice assumed a great degree of architectural grandeur. Ithad become the place for the inauguration of the English monarchs, and William the Conqueror was crowned here with great pomp and solemnity, in 1066.Henry III. enlarged the abbey, and the building continued in the state in which he left it until Henry VII. added a chapel, built in the florid Gothic style, on which the greatest skill of the architect and the sculptor was displayed; exhibiting the most splendid structure of the age, and so highly esteemed, that it was enjoined that the remains of royalty alone should be interred within its walls.During the reign of Henry VIII., of its revenues, Henry raised Westminster to the dignity of a city, and its abbey was constituted a cathedral. It was, however, afterwards re-united to London in 1550.Westminster Abbey, during the reign of William and Mary, was thoroughly repaired, and the towers added at the western entrance, under the direction of the celebrated Sir Christopher Wren, to whom London owes so much of its architectural grandeur.The length of the abbey is 416 feet; breadth, at the transept, 203 feet; nave 102 feet; height of the west tower 225 feet. The exterior measurement, including Henry VII.'s Chapel, is 530 feet.On entering the great western door between the towers, the magnificence of the abbey at once strikes the beholder with reverential awe. Nearly the whole of the interior appears in grand masses of towering Gothic columns of gray marble, connecting the pavement with the roof, and separating the nave from the side aisles. A screen divides the nave from the choir, which is surmounted by a noble organ, while beyond, the eye soarsamid graceful columns, tracery, and decorated windows, to the summit of the eastern arch that overlooks the adjacent chapels.The walls on either side display a great profusion of sepulchral monuments, among which are many finely executed pieces of sculpture, and touching memorials of those whose exploits or exertions deserve the notice of posterity.There is probably no building in the world around which cluster so many varied and thrilling associations as the Tower in London. For centuries it had been the theatre of England's bloodiest deeds, and its gray old walls stand as the lasting monument of tyranny, despotism, and death. Every stone in that structure has a history to tell. Centuries have come and gone, whole dynasties disappeared, and yet that old Tower still rises in its strength. It is situated in the east part of the metropolis, and on the north side of the riverThames. Its area measures twelve acres. Its origin has been imputed by some to Julius Cæsar. Still, the generally received opinion is, that the White Tower which is the oldest and principal edifice, owes its beginning to William the Conqueror, about 1076. This noted tower is 96 feet in breadth, 116 in length, and 92 in height. Its walls are 14 feet thick. The mint and menagerie which formerly gave notoriety to the tower, have been removed. The common entrance of the tower is on the west side through four gates, which are daily opened with much form and ceremony. I saw nothing so interesting to me in the tower as the Horse Armory, which is a hundred and fifty feet long, and thirty-three wide, containing a line of equestrianfigures, as if in battle array, stretching through the centre. A banner is over the head of each—the ceiling is covered with arms and accoutrements—the walls with armor and figures of ancient warriors. That row of twenty-two horsemen, large as life, armed to the teeth, with helmet and cuirass, and breastplate, and coats of mail, and lances, and swords, and battle-axes, and shields, sitting grim and silent there, is a sight one will not easily forget. They seem ready to charge on the foe, and their attitude and aspect are so fierce, that one almost trembles to walk in front of the steeds. Another object of curiosity is the immense store of fire arms, sufficient to equip one hundred and fifty thousand men, and beautifully arranged for show. Fee for seeing the Armory, sixpence; the Regalia, two shillings and sixpence.The ship being ready, about the first of February, 1841, we set sail for St. Johns. After a good passage of seventeen days, we saw Mount Desert, on the coast of the United States. At night there were many indications of bad weather; the ship rolled carelessly over the long heavy swell—the light breeze whistled mournfully through the rigging; all at once the main-top-gallant sheet (being chained) parted. Men were sent to bind or fasten it again—while in the act of obeying that order, the main-topsail sheet, (being chained also,) parted. This was considered by the crew as ominous; some prophesied that the ship would be lost, others, that there was some one on board who had committed some awful crime on shore—all were in a state of consternation. At length the Captain went below, and in a moment came running back, saying, "Shorten the sailsas fast as possible, for the barometer has fallen 4-10 in five minutes; bare a hand my good fellows, there is not a moment to lose." Every sail was soon clewed up to the yards, and lowered—there was no wind though it was cloudy, and all thought the barometer had deceived us, but we soon enough found that the truth was told; for while we were yet on the yards it came butt-end foremost, (as it is termed,) and blew with utmost fury. We were unable to get down, consequently were obliged to make the best of it by clinging fast to the rigging, and it was with difficulty that we did so. The water rushed over the deck, the scuppers would not allow it to run off. During this time the Captain was calling aloud with the trumpet, but its sounds did not reach our ears. The breeze lulled a little, and those in the rigging were enabled to get down, when it came with redoubled fury; our main-top-sail was carried away; then we lay twelve hours beating about by wind and waves, amid torrents of rain. At length the wind died away into a start calm; the sea at the same time running very irregular, the waves mounting to the height of twenty or thirty feet. Sail was made as quick as possible, which relieved the laboring of the ship; the fore and main top-sails which had been cleared away were repaired. The wind wore away into the South West. We shaped our course so as to shun the St. George's shoals which we were very near, and stood for St. Johns. The breeze freshened every moment until we found ourselves going at the rate of ten knots per hour. This was indeed cheering after the fearful situation we had but just escaped. But this was not always to last, for we were soon enveloped in a fog so dense,that it was with the greatest difficulty we could manage the ship. We shortened sail, hauled our wind, and according to our own reckoning stood across the bay to the rock known as the Old Proprietor, feeling our way along, we were nearing the Nova Scotia shore. Falling in with a fisherman, we found we were five miles below the grand passage; shaped our course up the bay. Having a fair tide we were soon above Grand Menan, and past most of our danger; firing a gun once in two or three minutes as a signal for a pilot. The fog cleared away a little so as to enable us to press more sail. Soon we saw Split Rock, and finding that we had not proceeded as far as we had supposed, we pressed more sail, setting studding sails on the starboard side, still keeping up the firing which soon brought a pilot, who speedily brought us to safe anchorage in the harbor of St. Johns.When the ship was safely moored, all hands were discharged. Feeling something of a desire to quit the seas, I resolved to remain on shore a while at least, and in pursuance of that resolution, obtained employment at rigging vessels, which business I followed nearly four months; when getting tired and uneasy of the monotony of such a life, I shipped as mate of the brig Comet, the last of July, bound, for Londonderry, (Ireland,) with plank for cargo. Nothing unusual occurred on our passage, and in due time arrived at Londonderry and discharged our cargo.The little leisure time allotted us was spent in rambling around the city. Londonderry is situated on the west bank of the Foyle. The original town was built in 1603, but was burned in 1608. The wall of thecity was about twenty feet high, and about eight thick, of splendid architecture, though somewhat ancient. The walls are mounted with towers at interval of two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet; these towers, and also the walls between them are mounted with cannon. The city is entered by four gates which are of iron, of the same height of the walls.Among the objects of curiosity which we visited was Walker's monument, erected to the memory of Governor Walker.In the Court House yard stands a cannon which is four feet and six inches round, and eleven feet long; it is calledRoaring Meg, from the loudness of its report during the siege; it bears the following inscription:—"Fishmongers, Londond, 1642."We also visited the Gothic Cathedral, which was erected in 1633, and is a most splendid edifice. There are also many other public buildings of which I cannot speak, as I had not time to examine them minutely.With a fair wind we proceeded down Lough Foyle, and as we rounded Molin Head, set studding sails, and steered down the north channel through the Irish Sea, running near to the Irish coast. I have never before had so beautiful a view of the Irish scenery; though situated as I was I could get but a faint idea of it. In a few days we hauled around between Land's End and the Isle of Scilly. Here is situated the well known rock called Wolf's Rock, situated but a little distance from Land's End. Its name is derived from the Wolf-like roaring which is heard in calm weather to the distance of several miles. The rock is a wash, or half tide rock, and is hollow; the water of the swell with which it fills, soon disappears, which gives rise to the suppositionthat there is a passage through it; but whither this passage leads, conjecture does not tell.We entered the English Channel and stood towards the Downs, where we came to anchor, and remained several days, in consequence of head winds.The wind favoring us we stood into the North Sea. One of our men fell from the main-royal-yard, which killed him instantly. We kept the body a day or two hoping to be able to bury it on the island of Heligoland at the mouth of the Elbe. But that could not be done on account of the warm weather, and we were obliged to bury him at sea. We sewed him in his hammock, fastening weights at his feet sufficient to sink the body. The body was then placed upon a plank which rested on the rail of the vessel. The vessel was then hove to and her progress considerably checked. The burial service was then read, and as the reader came to—"We commit the body to the deep"—the plank was raised, and the body slipped from it. The water parted to receive it, and closed over him forever.We braced full and stood for the mouth of the Elbe, where we remained at anchor during the night in consequence of the darkness.In the morning a pilot came aboard and attempted to run us up to Cuxhaven, but on account of the strong tide he could make but little progress. We waited for a steamer to take us in tow, which soon had us at anchor at Cuxhaven, twenty miles from the mouth of the river. Here we were also detained two days, waiting for a steamboat to tow us to Hamburg, where were vessels of all nations at anchor.Hamburg is seventy-five miles from the sea on thenorthern side of the Elbe. Its location is partly upon a great number of small islands formed by the Elbe and the Alster. It is divided into old and new town, and is surrounded by lofty ramparts and a broad ditch. The streets are very narrow generally, and the houses, being six and seven stories high, render them dark and dreary. The churches are mostly of Gothic architecture, having lofty spires, which are covered with copper.Perhaps there is no country in the world where the means of education can equal those of the North of Germany. At Hamburg there are over an hundred thousand volumes of books, in only two libraries. The universities of Germany are attended by students from all parts of Europe and oftentimes from America.Our cargo consisted of wheat, flour, Gin, &c. We hoisted sail and proceeded down the river. When abreast Cuxhaven we clewed up and let go the second bower. The current was so strong that this was no sooner fast than the cable parted and we ran near to the quicksands, that lay under our stern at the distance of half a mile. We immediately let go another and veered away until she was checked of her progress. By this time we had out about 90 fathoms of cable, and were within a stone's throw of the sands. Here we lay four hours momentarily fearing this cable would also part, and our destruction be sure. The tide beginning to turn, we manned the windlass and hove the ship to her anchor, which was soon lifted, and we dropped away to the eddy of Cuxhaven.The next morning another anchor was sent from the shore. We then weighed anchor and stood out to sea, passed Heligoland, where we left our pilot.With a fair wind we ran along the coast of Holland, and spoke several English, French and Dutch fishermen. Setting studding-sails alow and aloft we ran through the fleet, which is always at anchor at the Downs; had a delightful view of the coast along from Margate to Beachy Head; and passed the high Chalk Cliffs of Dover, which rise almost perpendicularly to the height of two or three hundred feet.Here is situated the famous castle of Dover. There are many tiers of windows or loop-holes for musketry worked in the cliff, and the subterranean barracks and passages are extensive. The besieged can retreat through these passages at pleasure. The barracks are sufficient for the accommodation of three or four thousand men.This was formerly the place of confinement of criminals, and is now so used for debtors.The town of Dover is situated on a low marshy soil, scarcely visible from the sea, and is principally inhabited by pilots for London and the north sea.Life-boats are stationed there at the expense of the government, to render assistance to those to whom accident may befall. One third of the money obtained from ships' crews goes to government, while the remaining two-thirds is retained by the crew of the life-boat. Each pilot is obliged to serve seven years before he can take a boat, and only a few can obtain an appointment at that time.The appointments are made by the Admiralty of England, which is composed of old men who have spent long lives at sea, and are supposed to thoroughly understand navigation, and extricating ships from all possible difficulties.When a person has completed his term of apprenticeship, he goes before the admiralty, who suppose a ship to be placed in the worst possible dilemma, and then ask him his plan of extricating her, or the course he would pursue, were he master of it.If he fails to agree with them, he is sent back to complete his apprenticeship, though they seldom appear the second time, usually hiring out to some other person who may get an appointment.The pilot-boats are nicely constructed and dance and bound over the wave as fearlessly as the fish of the sea.We passed the Eddystone lighthouse, which is situated about fourteen miles from the English coast and in one of the most tempestuous places in the known world. Several houses have been built on the same spot and could not withstand the heavy sea. One builder said, on the completion of his work, that the winds might blow and the waves might beat against it, but he should be as safe there as upon the highlands of Scotland. But in a night, he and his works were lost. The present one is built upon the very neck of the rock, and dove-tailed to the rock, and each piece to the other. The lantern is about 90 feet high, and yet the water at times beats over it. Three men are stationed there at a time to avoid all suspicions of ill in the case of a death or any accident which may befall any one of them. At a time when there were only two, one died from some sudden cause, and the other fearful that suspicion would rest upon him, should he throw the body into the sea, kept it many days hoping for an opportunity to have the body examined, and thus remove all grounds of suspicion. The weather was such that no boat could reach him to whom he could communicatehis situation, and there he remained "alone with the dead," amid the roaring of the elements, till the stench that arose from the body filled the whole house.In a short time, before a fine breeze, we were out of sight of land, when we saw a barque standing to the westward apparently in distress, with her masts and bowsprit gone. We ran close to her and hailed them, asking them if in want of any thing. One of the fore-mast hands answered, and said they were in want of bread and water. We offered them bread and told them to come for it. He said all of their boats were gone to Davy Jones' locker, and they could not.Our boats were lowered away and I went in charge to the ship with a quantity of bread.Never before had I seen a ship in so bad a condition. The fore-mast was gone by the board, which in its fall killed the mate; the bowsprit by the night-heads; on the larboard side the forecastle was stove in, near the water's edge, and almost every swell would wash overboard. The pumps were kept in constant action. To add wretchedness to the scene, the captain was so drunk that he was obliged to hang on the companion to keep himself from falling. Soon as we were aboard, the captain, intent upon his liquor, asked if we would have some brandy. Some of the crew went with him.As he came up, I asked him if he did not consider it altogether unsafe to be in such a miserable craft. He replied in an inarticulate manner, "Miserable craft; she's better than all your white pine ships, now," and reeling, fell back on the companion.We returned to our ship and left him to enjoy his peaceful security, and with a favorable breeze we lost sight of him.What his fate was I know not, but I fear he speedily went to his rest, where he will remain "till the sea shall give up her dead."We had a fine voyage, with no unusual occurrence. We reached Partridge island where we took on a pilot, who soon landed us safely at St. Johns about the last of March, 1841. Here I remained several months, determined to abandon the seas. At length getting again discontented, I left my family and went to Boston to get a situation. From thence I went to New Orleans, where I remained some weeks, and shipped myself on board the Clyde, Capt. Reed, bound for Glasgow, Scotland.Nothing save the usual occurrences of sailing attended the voyage, which was speedily terminated. Arriving at Glasgow we were paid off.Glasgow, situated upon the Clyde, is the largest city in Scotland and owes its rapid and still prosperous increase to its manufacturing interest, principally, which is vast indeed. The streets are wide and generally well paved.The Cathedral is a massive building of gothic architecture, and stands upon a hill in the center of the city. The buildings are blackened by the coal smoke which hangs over the city in clouds and renders the general aspect indeed gloomy.Having nothing to do and tired of wandering around Glasgow, several of us proposed going to Edinburgh, a distance of forty miles, which was performed by stagecoach, over a hilly, though an excellently well worked road.Edinburgh is situated upon the southern shore of the Frith of Forth, two miles from the sea. Its situationis indeed fine, occupying high ridges of land, and is surrounded, except on the north side, by high, craggy rocks.The streets of the old town, which is built on the two southern ridges, are narrow and dirty. The houses are often ten and eleven stories high.Those of the new town, built upon the northern ridge, are different, being unsurpassed by any in the world in regularity and elegance. A high bridge over the ravine connects the two towns.Edinburgh is chiefly the residence of lawyers and men of literature. It has the most flourishing University in all Europe, having about forty professors connected with it, and has at times two thousand students. There are a great number of libraries, and in one connected with the University are 100,000 volumes.In the neighborhood of Edinburgh is a huge rock, which attracts the attention of visitors, called Sampson's ribs.Returning to Glasgow, I shipped as mate of the Windsor Castle, bound for St. Johns, N. B. We proceeded down the Clyde and ran out the North Channel into the Atlantic, having fifty passengers. The time passed very finely indeed, until we made the Newfoundland banks, when we were met by a stormy head wind, which delayed us very much.Our stores got short, the passengers got discouraged, the crew became dissatisfied, attributing the scarcity to the bad calculation of the captain. Their dissatisfaction was of short duration, as the wind shifted, and soon we were safely anchored at St. Johns.Again I resolved to leave the sea altogether and live with my family which were now growing up aroundme, and needed me very much at home. I hired or leased a piece of land, and built a small cottage. This occupied six or eight months.Again time passed tediously, probably more so from the fact that all of the men belonging to the middle and lower classes are mariners and generally gone from home, so that a person of those classes finds but few associates. I remained on shore but a short time after the completion of the house.Shipped on board the barque Duncan, bound for Savannah, Geo., for lumber, cotton, &c. I had as shipmates the only two brothers of my wife. On our arrival at Savannah, one was taken sick and carried to the hospital, where after ten days' sickness he died and was buried in the ground belonging to the hospital. A few days after the other was drowned and also buried there.We lay at Savannah about two months waiting a cargo, which was at last procured, of timber. Difficulties arose between the captain and second mate, which resulted in the discharge of the latter. I was appointed to fill his place. A few days after the chief mate applied for a discharge as he could get better wages on some other voyage, which was granted him, and I was still promoted.Getting ready for sea, a pilot came aboard. Weighed anchor and stood out to sea.Hearing the captain accost the pilot by a name familiar to me, I was induced to believe him an early acquaintance, though I could not recognize in him the least familiar feature. So fully was I impressed with the idea of finding an acquaintance of earlier days thatI was induced to speak to him, and a happy recognition of old school and play-fellows ensued.The captain by this means found me to be a yankee, having till that moment supposed me to be an Englishman.The scenes of other days were rapidly recalled. Having heard nothing from home since I left in 1830, I most anxiously questioned him, but could learn nothing.At the time I left home I resolved that the sea of forgetfulness should wash over me and them, and for a long time I kept my parents in ignorance of my whereabouts.This feeling at last wore away and I addressed my mother, but no welcome messenger returned to me—again and again I wrote, still they remained silent.At last feeling myself an outcast and entirely forgotten by them, I resolved to write no more, and gave up all idea of ever again seeing them, meaning to spend my days, and lay my bones, on foreign soil.But the accidental meeting of this friend of my youth dispelled the idea and I requested him to notify them of my situation.Soon we were abreast Tyber's island, and the pilot left us and pulled for the shore.Standing north with a fair wind, we soon reached the Gulf Stream. Having often spoken of this stream without giving the reader an account of it, I propose doing it here.The Gulf Stream derives its name from a remarkable current in the Atlantic, running from southwest to northeast along the coast of America, from Florida to Newfoundland, supposed by many to be caused by thetrade winds which blow the waters of the Atlantic into the Gulf of Mexico, and they seeking their level rush out, finding a passage between the Bahama isles and the American coast, thus continuing around to the coast of England, decreasing in velocity with the extension of its surface and distance from the gulf. Others suppose it is caused by the current of the Atlantic, which is to the southwest, meeting the continent by which a part of its waters are repelled and forced into a counter current along the shore through the gulf.Some very few suppose that the waters of the Pacific rushing through under the continent and coming up in the Gulf of Mexico, and thus on in course, are the cause of it. Were this the case there would be a vortex or whirlpool in the Pacific and a monstrous boiling in the gulf which would have long ago have been discovered. The first reason or cause given is the generally accepted one.In continuing, with the reader, on with the voyage, I would say we encountered a most violent gale, attended with violent rain accompanied to an alarming degree with lightning and thunder.We ran eight days before the wind under close-reefed top-sail and fore-sail. The wind blowing from the south, which with the current kept a long and heavy swell. With two men at the helm we were scarcely able to keep her before the wind. She being heavily loaded with lumber labored tremendously.About twelve o'clock one night a big sea pooped us, (a heavy sea striking against the stern or quarter of the vessel when she is scudding before the wind) bursting the bulwarks from their stanchions, carrying away most of our provisions that were lashed to the deck. Thewater-casks that were lashed each side of the long boat had their heads knocked in, leaving the sides standing unhurt.Most of the crew seeing the swell sprang into the rigging and thus saved themselves from harm. The captain being at the helm, assisting in controlling the vessel, was struck and carried forward with great force, as must be supposed from the effect upon the water-casks.The second mate and myself both seeing the situation of the vessel sprang from the mizzen-rigging and seized the helm before she had time to broach to, which had she done, all would have been lost. The water when we left the rigging was up to our arms upon deck, and running over the rail of the vessel. Our vessel was apparently sinking, but was relieved by the bulwarks giving way, clearing the decks. The captain coming aft with bruised head avowed his determination of never scudding a vessel again.The second mate and myself kept the wheel three days and two nights, for the captain thought no others competent. As the wind abated sail was made, and an observation taken, which was the first taken since leaving Savannah, and we found ourselves on the northern side of St. George's Banks at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy.The wind, blowing fresh from the northeast, was in our teeth (as it is termed) obliging us to beat about for several days, when it shifted into the northwest enabling us to run up the American coast. We sighted Grand Menan, when the wind dying away to a start calm, we were carried back by the tide about forty miles, when a favoring breeze springing up, we squaredour yards and set studding-sails and soon had a pilot on board and were at St. Johns.I remained with my family but a few days when I left St. Johns, and entered upon the duties of commander of the Warrior, a vessel of 120 tons burden, laden with plank, lath, &c., bound for Cork. We sailed from St. Johns the first of September, 1842, had a very fine passage, and at the expiration of thirty-four days we were safely at Cork, when leaving the vessel in charge of the mate I went on shore for orders respecting my cargo.Cork is situated at the southeast side of the island on the river Lee, fourteen miles from the sea. Its harbor called the cove is elegant, and strongly fortified. The city presents something of a Venitian appearance, the several channels through which the river empties itself into the harbor being quayed.There are a great number of elegant buildings, public and private, situated on the hill which overlooks the town. Those more worthy of note are the bishop's palace, the custom-house, and court-house which has in front a pediment supported on six Corinthian columns surrounded by a group of colossial figures.I was ordered to proceed to Belfast with my cargo. Stood up the channel on a bowline. After rounding the Tuskar light we had a fine wind, till abreast the Isle of Man, when in consequence of a head wind we were put back. For three days I never left the deck except to my regular meals. The wind veering around we again stood up the channel and weathered the South Rock light fifteen miles before Belfast. Tacked and stood over to the Scotch side, dodging about during the night. Daylight found us abreast the Copeland light. Seeinga pilot boat I hoisted the Union Jack as a signal, which soon brought him on board, and we found a safe anchorage at Belfast. Procured a berth and hove her to it. Discharged my men, most of them having been paid at St. Johns, to run thither.I remained on board four days and sold the ship for £700 sterling, received a check on the bank of London for the amount. Proceeded to Liverpool by steamer, from thence to London by railroad. Obtained the money and returned to Liverpool. Shipped on board of the Duncan and sailed for St. Johns with the money, early in November, 1842. The wind blowing fresh up channel, the captain concluded to run out of the north channel. Had a fine passage until we were abreast Tory island, on the northwest coast of Ireland, when the wind shifted into the northeast, and blew a fresh breeze. Running down the coast at night we were all greatly alarmed at the cry from the lookout, "Breakers ahead." The helm was instantly put hard up, which the ship immediately answered and came around upon her keel. Although under double-reefed-top-sails, they were trimmed in a few moments, and the ship began to gather headway, and stood offshore till daylight, when we made sail and stood to the westward. Without any thing of particular note we reached the Newfoundland banks, and saw and spoke the ship Thetis of St. Johns. She had the night previous run down a fishing schooner, seeing nothing of her until she struck her midships. Soon as possible the ship was brought to and boats lowered, but not a vestige was seen. Their loud shrieks were heard as they sank to rise no more. Anxious friends have no doubt long awaited their return and arestill ignorant of their doom. Thus many a ship's crew have been swallowed up in a moment, with the waves their winding sheet, the howling winds their requiem.One day we fell in with a large iceberg whose spiral top towered far above our mast head. With this we sailed some time. About 9 P. M. it shut in with a heavy fog from the southeast so dense that we could not discern objects the length of the ship ahead of us. This rendered our situation the most unpleasant, floating as we were with so formidable a companion among such a host of fishermen as ever throng that place, with no means of testing our proximity to them.At length the sharp cry of the looker-out, "Hard port the helm," aroused all hands. The order was quickly obeyed, but not quick enough to avoid a severe blow from the ice. The shock aroused the captain, who came quickly upon deck. The pumps were rigged and every thing clewed up except the fore and main-top-sails, the yard lowered down and the reef-tackles rolled out; and thus we ran the remainder of the night. Heard the report of a gun mingled with the surf dashing, as we supposed, against the iron bound coast or against the ice. From the situation we were in we had much to fear, and in fact our terror could not be told, expecting each successive moment would bring us on to the rocks, or ice which would be even more certain destruction.Another gun was discharged, and the dashing grew still louder. Whither to steer we knew not. Every ear and eye was called into requisition. Hope could hardly point us to a safe deliverance. All were certain that a most dreadful crisis was rapidly approaching. Another gun was fired which sounded but a half stone's throwfrom us, and the flash gleamed through the fog, and all was dark as before. Attentively listening I thought I could distinguish the strokes from the large paddle wheels of some Steamer, and a moment after our fears were greatly relieved by the rapid passing of one of the Liverpool line of steamers.Daylight appeared and we made all possible sail, notwithstanding the fog had cleared away but very little.Wind and weather favoring, we were soon safely anchored at the docks of St. Johns, and I was again in the bosom of my little family, where I remained working at rigging until the summer of 1843.CHAPTER XVIII.Command a Vessel. Sail for London. Come near going on the Goodwin Sands. Anchor at London. Sail for Mobile. Serious affair with the Seamen. Spirits discharged from the Ship. A Fortune-Teller. Sail for Liverpool. Sail as mate of the Ashburton. A Storm. Run upon the Rocks. Perilous Situation. Proceed to St. Johns, and go smuggling. Are taken, and ship sold. News from home. Go thither, and unknown. Conclusion.Again on the first of August, 1843, I left St. Johns as commander of the Solway Frith, bound for London, with a crew of twenty-one all told. The owner, (Mr. W—— and wife,) were aboard. Proceeded down the bay of Fundy, very finely indeed; had nothing to mar our happiness, until we were in the chops of the channel. A fine breeze wafted us in the space of forty-eight hours into the Downs, where we came to anchor among threehundred sail from all quarters of the globe. About sunset, one night, the wind freshened a little, and hauled around into the westward, increasing each moment in fury. Some of the ships parted from their anchors, others cut away their masts, and rigging, to prevent if possible their severing the cable, and falling back upon the sands; while some would slip their cable, and run for the north sea. At ten o'clock the gale had attained that height, I thought it best to lower the top-gallant yards and masts; and while in the act, the anchor started, and we ran stern-foremost towards the sands with the greatest rapidity. All were filled with the greatest terror. Knowing there was no time to be lost, I threw out the best bower, and payed out ninety fathom of cable, then the small bower with seventy fathoms. The desired effect was produced; the ship was stopped in her course. Our windlass was nearly cut off by the wearing of the chains. Life-boats were every where bounding upon the wave like feathers, while the ships were plunging and tossing madly about. By four, the next morning, all of our top-gallant masts and yards were upon deck; thus we lay until the day following, when Mr. W—— and lady took the life-boat, and went on shore, and thence to London by land.By the recommendation of the pilot, I chartered the steamer Lion to tow us to London. She towed us as far as the—— light on the roadstead of Sheerness, where we lay in wait for a tide, when she again towed us to the——, where we lightened her of her deck load, and of part of that in the hold, and moored to the East County dock, where the remainder of our cargo was discharged.We then hauled into a dry dock, in order to find ourleakage if possible. It was supposed, as this was the first voyage of the Solway Frith, some bolt-hole was left unstopped through mistake, which had also escaped the caulker's notice, which was, on examination, found to be the case.The ship being caulked, we hauled to the Timass Buoys to await orders. Here we remained but a few days, when Mr. W—— came on board, and ordered me to get ready for Mobile, Alabama, U. S. A.I immediately got my stores and ballast ready. Took on a pilot, and sailed for Mobile, Oct. 7th, 1843. Ran down the shore, and arrived at the Downs with a double-reefed top-sail breeze. Discharged our pilot at Deal, and stood down the channel.On the third day took our departure from the Lizard light bearing North.The day following, unbent cables, stowed anchor, and shaped our course for Mana Isle; had a stiff breeze till we struck the trade winds, when we found it light. Setting studding-sails alow and aloft, made all possible sail, and were enabled, after eighteen days' sail, to reach Mana; found a mistake of twenty miles in my reckoning; as it happened, however, all was well.Ran through the Mana passage, and made the Island of Hayti or St. Domingo.At about dark, sighted the north end of Jamaica, and endeavored to run between that and St. Domingo. The breeze being so very light, I failed in the attempt, and ran to the leeward of Jamaica, and passed the great Command, a very difficult pass, without harm. The breeze began to freshen a little; we rounded the Cape Antonio, the southern point of Cuba, and hauled ourwind for Mobile, on a bowline, and made Massacre Island. A pilot seeing us; came for the ship, before I hoisted a signal; thinking to have a little sport on knowing our vessel to be a fast sailer, crowded all sail, and gained very much of him, he meanwhile urged his little boat along as fast as possible. Heaving to took him aboard, and bracing full, soon were at the entrance of the bay; had much difficulty in getting over the bar, which we struck three times without much damage.Getting over the bar, we proceeded up Dog river, and came to in four fathoms of water. Mr. W—— went to town to attend to his business. I had the sails unbent, and stored in the sail-room.The lighters came along side for the ballast. Finding stone for ballast very scarce indeed, I concluded to screen the stone from the sand, and reserve them for use while I discharged the sand. This being done, all hands under the charge of the mate went about fitting the ship sails, setting the rigging, &c. While this was going on, I was gunning, fishing, or any thing I chose to do. I procured game sufficient, or nearly so, for the ship's use. Much time I spent about the town.Mobile is situated on the west side of the Mobile bay, in a position elevated above the overflow of the river. In 1700 it was founded by the Spanish, and came into the possession of the Americans in 1813, being at that time of but little note, since which time it has increased very much; yet diseases have hindered its rapid growth. It is now one of the greatest markets for cotton in the country.Ships lying at Mobile are obliged to sight their anchors every few days, on account of the nature of the bottom, which is very soft indeed, otherwise theywould become so firmly imbedded in the mud, as to render all attempts to raise them fruitless. Many times the ship is hove directly over the anchor, the windlass manned, and the ship careened over very much, which is continually drawing upon the anchor; and, as she rights herself, is again drawn over; this continues till they are able to heave it to the cat-head by the windlass.One day, while we lay at anchor, I went on shore, and, as usual, left the mate in charge; on my return, found the mate holding to different articles to keep himself from falling as he went across the deck. As I stood talking with him, one of the crew came reeling up, and dared him to fight, at the same time using the most abusive language. I remained silent a few moments, when I ordered him to his duty, and to be quiet. He flew at me in a perfect rage, offering me many insults, and attempted to strike me. Seeing four more of his drunken fellows coming towards me, I thought it about time to be doing something; dealt the first one a blow above his eyes, which threw him with force across a beef barrel, screaming loudly. This blow was so violent that my thumb was dislocated. The second received a blow which put him with his fellow. This also disabled my left hand.The first one now came to the second attack; I met him with the toe of my boot under his chin, which laid him upon the deck where he was willing to remain. The other three soon came hurriedly forward to assist their comrades. Seizing an iron bolt, about two feet long, which was very fortunately near me, I laid them all upon the deck together. The steward took them to their berths, and dressed their wounds. One of them had his jaw broken, another his head badly hurt, andone of his ribs broken. The next morning Mr. W—— came on board, and learned the whole matter. I then discharged all the liquor from the ship, and suffered not a single drop on board after. In a few days three of the men went to their duty; the other two never did, being disabled for a long time. The cargo was sent on board, packed and stowed. We remained at Mobile four or five months before we could get a cargo.It had been nearly a year since my friends had heard any intelligence of me whatever, and that only indirectly. They being extremely solicitous respecting me, laid their case before a traveling fortune-teller, who told them of my exact situation, and of the time I should return to them. This they had little faith in; for so long had I been gone, I was thought to be almost wholly estranged. The capability of those fortune-tellers, I have always and do still doubt; yet I solemnly assert that in this case it was told rightly.We sailed from Mobile in March, bound for Liverpool. When abreast the Bermudas, we were met with a very heavy squall; for this we were tolerably well prepared, though very heavily laden.The sea was very irregular and high; the ship labored very heavily indeed; besides this, our situation was rendered doubly fearful by the extreme darkness. Seldom, if ever, did I pass a worse night than this. There was one remarkable feature attending it: it was unaccompanied with lightning or thunder, which are so frequent in that season and climate. The magnificence of the phospheretic scenery was such that the most timid mariner would pause in his duty amid the warring of the elements, where danger beset him on every hand, to admire its sublimity.The long wished for day at length arrived; and through the dense fog we could occasionally see traces of light, that, with rising of the barometer, were sure indications that the worst was over. Had the storm continued longer, or had the ship been more heavily laden with timber, or with any compact loading, causing a greater dead weight in her bottom, in consequence of which she would have rolled much quicker, and labored much more heavily, I fear all would have been lost.About ten that day, we made sail to steady the ship, the sea being still very heavy.At about two in the afternoon, we had a view of, I think, the largest water, or by some termed, air-spout, I ever saw. Nothing occurred until we reached soundings at the St. George's channel. Here Mrs. W—— presented her husband with a fine boy; when the fact was communicated to the crew, they hoisted the colors and fired a salute.A stormy wind headed us several days; the channel was full of vessels of all nations waiting a passage up. A light breeze springing up, we set studding-sails, and soon made the Tuskar light. Rounding the rock, we shaped our course to Holyhead. A thick fog again setting in, and shutting out the land from sight, we were obliged to run the ship by reckoning. When abreast of Bardsey island, spoke a coaster, and found our reckoning right.At night the fog cleared away. Made sail. Sighted Holyhead light on the coast of Wales; rounded the head at daylight; took on a pilot who soon ran us into Liverpool. When we docked ship, and discharged allhands. A few days after, the ship and cargo was sold upon the water. I was offered the command of her by the new owners, to make a voyage to Quebec; this I declined, not liking the voyage, though I regretted leaving the ship, for she was a beautiful sailor.Wishing to go to St. Johns, I watched every opportunity to work my passage. This I could find no means of doing until some time in July, when I was offered the berth of chief mate on board the Ashburton, Capt. Poole, bound thither. The Ashburton was a splendid ship of 1009 tons register, built for either passengers or freight. All things ready, we left our moorings the 18th of July, with sixteen passengers, and cargo of dry goods, iron, &c. Proceeded down the Mersey, and stood across to the Irish shore, made the hill of Howth. The wind blowing a double reefed top-sail breeze from the southwest, and every moment freshening, we hauled up and stowed our main-sail; tacked and stood back to the English coast. Sighted the Calf-of-man at midnight. Finding we made no progress, and the wind still increasing, we close reefed the fore and mizzen top-sails, and double reefed the main top-sails. At three, the next day, the Captain thought best to square away, and stand northwest towards the North Channel; which course we ran about six hours, then hauled our wind N. N. E. till midnight, and stood N. N. W.During this time I was below: coming on deck at half past twelve, found the Captain had been on deck all night.On learning that, at nine o'clock, the Calf-of-man bore E. S. E. four leagues distant, and since that time we had been bearing northwest, I was fully persuaded all was not right, and went aft into the poop, where the Captain was walking with a thoughtful expression of countenance. The rain was at this time falling in torrents.WRECK OF THE ASHBURTON ON THE COAST OF IRELAND.I told the Captain we were close in upon the Irish shore. With a sneering laugh he replied, "We are far enough from Ireland, and we must still haul our course a little to the westward."I turned away and went forward, biting my lips through indignation at his proceedings. Knowing him to be a skillful navigator, I immediately made up my mind that it was his intention to run the ship upon the rocks, regardless of his own life and also the lives of his crew and passengers, in order to get the insurance, as she was insured for double her real value. Putting a man on the lookout, I went aft again and told the captain we should be on the rocks in a few moments, if the ship was not hauled to the eastward. He forced a smile, and attempted to laugh me out of the idea I held with respect to our situation. I told him it was his privilege to laugh if he chose, but it would be no laughing affair for the crew and passengers to go on the rocks, as we certainly should, unless we stood to the eastward.At that moment, he seeing a little light on our starboard bow, exclaimed:"All right! Port Patrick light; we must haul to the westward!"Seeing it was a revolving one, I knew it to be the South Rock light, and told him she would strike in fifteen minutes. In a moment I saw the little harbor lights called St. Johns light, on our larboard bow, situated at the entrance of Port-au-Ferry Lough. I ranforward, and could see through the fog, which was breaking up a little, land and breakers right ahead.—Upon my own responsibility I immediately ordered the yards to be braced up and the helm put hard to port.The ship came to and ranging ahead, in a moment would have cleared the point, had not a heavy sea struck her starboard bow and deadened her headway; her keel struck upon the rock, the sails caught aback, and swung her bows around upon her keel with great force.She rested with each end on a reef, and as the tide left her, she careened and twirled over, thus giving the surf still greater effect upon her. At this unfavorable moment the captain ordered the sails to be clewed up. I knowing the great danger that would arise from it, told the men to look out for themselves first. I had hardly ceased speaking when a sea washed over her decks, sweeping upwards of twenty of the crew into the sea!Those that were aft—seven of us—were saved. The screams of the passengers, who were all fast below, were beyond conception. They were set on deck to act for themselves.Daylight came, and we were seen from the shore, (we went upon the rock about two o'clock, having been there a little over two hours,) but they dare not attempt our rescue, as the sea ran very high. Twenty-three of the bodies of those lost were seen washing about, and beating against the ship's side.Again a heavy sea struck her, and carried away the boats from the fore part of the poop, with all my articles of value, except a few instruments of navigation; and I almost cursed the day I went aboard the Ashburton.But when I saw the mangled, headless bodies of the sailors beating about against the rocks, my loss sank into insignificance.We had stowed in the half deck some salt hams, which had not been disturbed: our bread had been saturated with salt water, yet we devoured it like half-famished wolves.Thus we lay for seven days, almost momentarily expecting death, and yet within half a mile of the shore. On the eighth day a boat came from the shore, and when within hail was capsized, and one of the noble crew found a watery grave.The ninth day a boat succeeded in getting to us, and took away the passengers, captain, boatswain, and steward, leaving the rest of us to spend yet another dreary night upon the rocks.The next day the insurance agents, one from Belfast and the other from Port-au-Ferry, came out to us, with the captain. They wished us to stay and take charge of the wreck until further orders. offering us good wages, but this was far from being a pleasant berth. We however concluded to stay, and busied ourselves collecting the goods that might remain on the wreck, also all the bolts and other articles from the ship worth saving. A boat was sent off from shore to collect the bodies of those that were drowned, who still lay beating about the rocks and in holes on the reef, where they had been deposited by the water.At the expiration of seventeen days, I received a letter from the captain, ordering us all to proceed to Port-au-Ferry immediately. On our arrival, we found the captain with the insurance agents, who wished to know my charges for the services rendered. I told them twodollars per day from the time of our sailing from Liverpool. To this they objected, and offered me one dollar and fifty cents per day. I told them I should have two dollars or nothing, and if I was not paid in six hours, I would place a seizure upon the wreck. The captain offered to pay me when I arrived at Belfast, and thither he proceeded with me. On going to the office, I was asked to sign the protest; to this I objected, saying I wished to get my money first. The captain then tried to intimidate me, by saying it was a mate's duty to do it.I then offered him his choice between paying me and an exposure of the facts respecting the wreck. Immediately he chose to pay me the two dollars I asked, rather than suffer me to make public the circumstances connected with that which he well knew would throw him out of the insurance. That I ought to have done, for he fully deserved it, by suffering the ship to go on the rocks, at the sacrifice of so many lives, in order that he might sell his vessel at an exorbitantly large price; thereby adding to the crime of murder that of robbery!I received my pay, signed the protest, and left the office, to search for an opportunity to work my passage to St. Johns.Falling in with the captain of the Sir Henry Pottinger, with whom I was previously acquainted, I obtained the berth of chief mate.We sailed from Belfast on the 13th of August, 1844; rounded the Copeland light, and, the wind being northerly, stood down the channel; we passed the South Rock light, and came to the reef on which the Ashburton struck; and as I passed the place, I almost fancied I could hear those screeches still ringing in my ears, asthey rang that night loud above the angry roarings of the surf.With my glass I looked upon the sad scene till we rounded the St. Johns point, which shut it out from our sight.Two men more than the complement were found, when the hands were called to set the watch. They, on being questioned, said they were deserters from the army, and wished to go to America; therefore they had adopted this way for accomplishing their purpose. The captain long questioned in his mind whether to proceed with them or leave them on shore, and asked my advice. Supposing myself in their situation for one moment, I decided in their favor. But this did not save them, for the captain could not think himself doing right in taking them away, notwithstanding his strong desire to assist them, and he resolved to put them on shore.When abreast Dublin Bay, we hauled our wind and stood in shore, and when within three or four miles of the shore, the boats were cleared away, and the captain ordered me to put them ashore. To this they stoutly objected, declaring they would not go alive. One of them was put into the boat by force; the other finding resistance useless, went quietly into the boat, and both were put on shore.Their entreaties to be taken again to the ship and suffered to go to America, brought tears to the eyes of the hardy sailors, and for a moment they paused almost persuaded to take them back again. Hurriedly we took our departure, leaving them standing on the point of rock on which they were first landed, where they remained as long as we were in sight.Arriving at the ship, we braced full and stood downthe channel. Nothing unusual occurred on the passage, which was completed by the middle of September.I had now been gone about thirteen months, and was no better off than when I left home, having lost my year's hard-earned money through the miserable conduct of Captain Poole of the Ashburton.The urgent necessities which were placed upon me, required my utmost exertions. In company with another person, I bought a small vessel of fifteen tons, and sailed for Eastport. Here we purchased a quantity of tobacco, cigars, gin, and tea, to the amount of $250, intending to smuggle it into St. Johns. This proved a successful enterprise, and we cleared fifty per cent.—Stimulated by this happy result, we again proceeded to Eastport, and purchased a still larger quantity than before, with which we succeeded finely until we reached Partridge Island, where we were becalmed; the fog came up from the southeast so heavy, that we could see only a little distance; night also setting in, rendered our situation drear indeed.About midnight, we heard oars pulling towards us very easy. Fearing they were custom-house officers, we lowered our sails, to avoid detection if possible.—They hailed us and inquired our business? We told them we were fishermen. Choosing to be more certain, they examined our cargo, and then took us in tow to St. Johns.The next day our boat and goods were sold. We attended the auction, and bid the boat back again. We then rigged her entirely new, resolving to try our luck again.We purchased our cargo, and started for St. Johns about 10 o'clock in the morning, in order to reach homeabout midnight; we landed our goods in a large hole in the rocks in an unfrequented place, and stood off with the boat. We went on shore in order to get a team. On our return, we found three custom-house officers guarding our goods! This proved an entire overthrow to our hopes and prospects. Stripped of all our little property, we were left with no alternative but to try the sea again.I accordingly looked about for an opportunity. Soon I was offered the command of a new bark, then in the stocks, which would soon be ready for sea. The vessel lay one hundred miles up the coast. I was also to take charge of her outfits.The day previous to my departure, I received a letter (through the owner of the ship Duncan, in which I had previously sailed,) from my brother-in-law, giving me an account of the situation of the family. This was the first line I had received from home since I left. He was extremely anxious that I should return. I went to the ship and commenced my labors, which I continued only three weeks.I returned to St. Johns and fitted out for home, where I arrived about the last of November, 1844, having been absent fourteen years and a few months. Those long years of hardship had so altered the boy of sixteen summers, (as I was when they last saw me,) that none scarcely knew me.In a few days it was my privilege to fill that place at the Thanksgiving dinner-table which had so long been vacated by me. In a few days my family followed me. For a length of time I was in the employ of the Dwight Manufacturing Company at Cabotville: at thepresent time I am employed by the Western Railroad Company, and stationed at Springfield.Thus I draw my simple narrative to a close. It is the author's desire that, while his simply-told tale serves to pass away an hour, it will contribute something to the interest as well as to the amusement of the reader.THE END.

CHAPTER XVII.London. Thames tunnel. Bank of England. St. Paul's Church. Westminster Abbey. The tower. Sail for St. Johns. A storm. Proceed to Londonderry. Its description. Wolf Rock. Sail for Holland. Burial at sea. Arrive at Hamburg. Its description. Come near going upon the sands. Dover cliffs and castle. Pilots. Eddystone light. A ship in distress with a drunken captain. Return to my family. Go to New Orleans. Sail for Glasgow. Go to Edinburgh. Go to St. Johns resolved to quit the sea. Build a house. Go to Savannah. Meet an old school fellow. Appointed chief mate. Gulf stream. A storm. Go home. Sail to Cork. Belfast. Thence to London. Return home. Imminent danger and narrow escape.London, the capital of England and metropolis of the British empire, is situated on the banks of the Thames, in the counties of Middlesex and Surrey, and within a day's journey of the southern shore of Britain.On the spot now occupied by the city, or more ancient part of the metropolis, which is on the left or northern bank of the Thames, a town had been built and possessed by the Romans eighteen centuries ago, and from that period it has constantly been the seat of the increasing and busy population. Its chief increase and improvement, however, have been since the great fire in 1666, which destroyed a large number of the old streets and public edifices.It is impossible by any written description to convey adequate ideas of the real magnitude of London. Indeed,it is not until after a person has been in the city for some months, that he begins to comprehend it. Every new walk opens to him streets, squares and divisions which he has never seen before. And even those places where he is most familiar, are discovered day by day to possess archways and thoroughfares within and around them, which had never been noticed before. Even people who have spent their whole lives in the city, often find streets and buildings, of which they had never before heard, and which they had never before seen.The Thames Tunnel which is the medium for communication between the Surrey and Middlesex sides of the river, was designed and carried into execution by a joint stock company, which, however, has been largely assisted by government. The tunnel consists of two avenues or arched vaults, beneath the river. Each avenue is of such height and breadth as to afford a beautiful walk, and is lighted with gas. It is about two miles below London bridge, and was begun in 1822.Standing in some measure behind the site of the Royal Exchange, facing Threadneedle street, are seen the extensive series of stone buildings containing the Bank of England. The whole buildings and courts include an area of about eight acres, and were completed in 1778. In 1832, there were employed in the bank 820 clerks and porters, and 38 printers and engravers. There were besides, 193 pensioners. The salaries and pensions amounted to £218,003; the house expenses, £39,187, and the allowance to directors, £8,000.These statistics will give the reader a better opportunityto judge of the enormous amount of business that this bank transacts annually.The hours at which the bank is open are from nine in the morning till five in the afternoon, holidays excepted.St. Paul's Church, which is built in the form of a Greek cross, is the most prominent object in London. It measures 514 feet in length, 286 in breadth, and 370 in height, to the topmost pinnacle. There are three porticoes at as many entrances, on the north, west, and south. That on the west is the principal, with twelve lofty Corinthian pillars below, and the angles above crowned with handsome bell towers, the size of ordinary church towers or steeples.The great bell of St. Paul's is only rung when a member of the royal family dies, and its fine deep tones can be distinctly heard at a distance of several miles. The great bell weighs four and a half tons, and is ten feet in diameter.Westminster Abbey is situated nearly opposite the houses of Parliament, and is open to inspection on the north and east, but on the west it is much crowded upon by dwelling-houses.In very early times this spot of ground was a small insular tract, surrounded by the waters of the Thames, and called Thorny Island. A monastic institution was founded here on the introduction of Christianity into Britain. An Abbey was raised upon the site of the ruined monastic building, under Edward the Confessor.The ground plan, as usual, bore the form of the cross. Rights and endowments were granted, and the edifice assumed a great degree of architectural grandeur. Ithad become the place for the inauguration of the English monarchs, and William the Conqueror was crowned here with great pomp and solemnity, in 1066.Henry III. enlarged the abbey, and the building continued in the state in which he left it until Henry VII. added a chapel, built in the florid Gothic style, on which the greatest skill of the architect and the sculptor was displayed; exhibiting the most splendid structure of the age, and so highly esteemed, that it was enjoined that the remains of royalty alone should be interred within its walls.During the reign of Henry VIII., of its revenues, Henry raised Westminster to the dignity of a city, and its abbey was constituted a cathedral. It was, however, afterwards re-united to London in 1550.Westminster Abbey, during the reign of William and Mary, was thoroughly repaired, and the towers added at the western entrance, under the direction of the celebrated Sir Christopher Wren, to whom London owes so much of its architectural grandeur.The length of the abbey is 416 feet; breadth, at the transept, 203 feet; nave 102 feet; height of the west tower 225 feet. The exterior measurement, including Henry VII.'s Chapel, is 530 feet.On entering the great western door between the towers, the magnificence of the abbey at once strikes the beholder with reverential awe. Nearly the whole of the interior appears in grand masses of towering Gothic columns of gray marble, connecting the pavement with the roof, and separating the nave from the side aisles. A screen divides the nave from the choir, which is surmounted by a noble organ, while beyond, the eye soarsamid graceful columns, tracery, and decorated windows, to the summit of the eastern arch that overlooks the adjacent chapels.The walls on either side display a great profusion of sepulchral monuments, among which are many finely executed pieces of sculpture, and touching memorials of those whose exploits or exertions deserve the notice of posterity.There is probably no building in the world around which cluster so many varied and thrilling associations as the Tower in London. For centuries it had been the theatre of England's bloodiest deeds, and its gray old walls stand as the lasting monument of tyranny, despotism, and death. Every stone in that structure has a history to tell. Centuries have come and gone, whole dynasties disappeared, and yet that old Tower still rises in its strength. It is situated in the east part of the metropolis, and on the north side of the riverThames. Its area measures twelve acres. Its origin has been imputed by some to Julius Cæsar. Still, the generally received opinion is, that the White Tower which is the oldest and principal edifice, owes its beginning to William the Conqueror, about 1076. This noted tower is 96 feet in breadth, 116 in length, and 92 in height. Its walls are 14 feet thick. The mint and menagerie which formerly gave notoriety to the tower, have been removed. The common entrance of the tower is on the west side through four gates, which are daily opened with much form and ceremony. I saw nothing so interesting to me in the tower as the Horse Armory, which is a hundred and fifty feet long, and thirty-three wide, containing a line of equestrianfigures, as if in battle array, stretching through the centre. A banner is over the head of each—the ceiling is covered with arms and accoutrements—the walls with armor and figures of ancient warriors. That row of twenty-two horsemen, large as life, armed to the teeth, with helmet and cuirass, and breastplate, and coats of mail, and lances, and swords, and battle-axes, and shields, sitting grim and silent there, is a sight one will not easily forget. They seem ready to charge on the foe, and their attitude and aspect are so fierce, that one almost trembles to walk in front of the steeds. Another object of curiosity is the immense store of fire arms, sufficient to equip one hundred and fifty thousand men, and beautifully arranged for show. Fee for seeing the Armory, sixpence; the Regalia, two shillings and sixpence.The ship being ready, about the first of February, 1841, we set sail for St. Johns. After a good passage of seventeen days, we saw Mount Desert, on the coast of the United States. At night there were many indications of bad weather; the ship rolled carelessly over the long heavy swell—the light breeze whistled mournfully through the rigging; all at once the main-top-gallant sheet (being chained) parted. Men were sent to bind or fasten it again—while in the act of obeying that order, the main-topsail sheet, (being chained also,) parted. This was considered by the crew as ominous; some prophesied that the ship would be lost, others, that there was some one on board who had committed some awful crime on shore—all were in a state of consternation. At length the Captain went below, and in a moment came running back, saying, "Shorten the sailsas fast as possible, for the barometer has fallen 4-10 in five minutes; bare a hand my good fellows, there is not a moment to lose." Every sail was soon clewed up to the yards, and lowered—there was no wind though it was cloudy, and all thought the barometer had deceived us, but we soon enough found that the truth was told; for while we were yet on the yards it came butt-end foremost, (as it is termed,) and blew with utmost fury. We were unable to get down, consequently were obliged to make the best of it by clinging fast to the rigging, and it was with difficulty that we did so. The water rushed over the deck, the scuppers would not allow it to run off. During this time the Captain was calling aloud with the trumpet, but its sounds did not reach our ears. The breeze lulled a little, and those in the rigging were enabled to get down, when it came with redoubled fury; our main-top-sail was carried away; then we lay twelve hours beating about by wind and waves, amid torrents of rain. At length the wind died away into a start calm; the sea at the same time running very irregular, the waves mounting to the height of twenty or thirty feet. Sail was made as quick as possible, which relieved the laboring of the ship; the fore and main top-sails which had been cleared away were repaired. The wind wore away into the South West. We shaped our course so as to shun the St. George's shoals which we were very near, and stood for St. Johns. The breeze freshened every moment until we found ourselves going at the rate of ten knots per hour. This was indeed cheering after the fearful situation we had but just escaped. But this was not always to last, for we were soon enveloped in a fog so dense,that it was with the greatest difficulty we could manage the ship. We shortened sail, hauled our wind, and according to our own reckoning stood across the bay to the rock known as the Old Proprietor, feeling our way along, we were nearing the Nova Scotia shore. Falling in with a fisherman, we found we were five miles below the grand passage; shaped our course up the bay. Having a fair tide we were soon above Grand Menan, and past most of our danger; firing a gun once in two or three minutes as a signal for a pilot. The fog cleared away a little so as to enable us to press more sail. Soon we saw Split Rock, and finding that we had not proceeded as far as we had supposed, we pressed more sail, setting studding sails on the starboard side, still keeping up the firing which soon brought a pilot, who speedily brought us to safe anchorage in the harbor of St. Johns.When the ship was safely moored, all hands were discharged. Feeling something of a desire to quit the seas, I resolved to remain on shore a while at least, and in pursuance of that resolution, obtained employment at rigging vessels, which business I followed nearly four months; when getting tired and uneasy of the monotony of such a life, I shipped as mate of the brig Comet, the last of July, bound, for Londonderry, (Ireland,) with plank for cargo. Nothing unusual occurred on our passage, and in due time arrived at Londonderry and discharged our cargo.The little leisure time allotted us was spent in rambling around the city. Londonderry is situated on the west bank of the Foyle. The original town was built in 1603, but was burned in 1608. The wall of thecity was about twenty feet high, and about eight thick, of splendid architecture, though somewhat ancient. The walls are mounted with towers at interval of two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet; these towers, and also the walls between them are mounted with cannon. The city is entered by four gates which are of iron, of the same height of the walls.Among the objects of curiosity which we visited was Walker's monument, erected to the memory of Governor Walker.In the Court House yard stands a cannon which is four feet and six inches round, and eleven feet long; it is calledRoaring Meg, from the loudness of its report during the siege; it bears the following inscription:—"Fishmongers, Londond, 1642."We also visited the Gothic Cathedral, which was erected in 1633, and is a most splendid edifice. There are also many other public buildings of which I cannot speak, as I had not time to examine them minutely.With a fair wind we proceeded down Lough Foyle, and as we rounded Molin Head, set studding sails, and steered down the north channel through the Irish Sea, running near to the Irish coast. I have never before had so beautiful a view of the Irish scenery; though situated as I was I could get but a faint idea of it. In a few days we hauled around between Land's End and the Isle of Scilly. Here is situated the well known rock called Wolf's Rock, situated but a little distance from Land's End. Its name is derived from the Wolf-like roaring which is heard in calm weather to the distance of several miles. The rock is a wash, or half tide rock, and is hollow; the water of the swell with which it fills, soon disappears, which gives rise to the suppositionthat there is a passage through it; but whither this passage leads, conjecture does not tell.We entered the English Channel and stood towards the Downs, where we came to anchor, and remained several days, in consequence of head winds.The wind favoring us we stood into the North Sea. One of our men fell from the main-royal-yard, which killed him instantly. We kept the body a day or two hoping to be able to bury it on the island of Heligoland at the mouth of the Elbe. But that could not be done on account of the warm weather, and we were obliged to bury him at sea. We sewed him in his hammock, fastening weights at his feet sufficient to sink the body. The body was then placed upon a plank which rested on the rail of the vessel. The vessel was then hove to and her progress considerably checked. The burial service was then read, and as the reader came to—"We commit the body to the deep"—the plank was raised, and the body slipped from it. The water parted to receive it, and closed over him forever.We braced full and stood for the mouth of the Elbe, where we remained at anchor during the night in consequence of the darkness.In the morning a pilot came aboard and attempted to run us up to Cuxhaven, but on account of the strong tide he could make but little progress. We waited for a steamer to take us in tow, which soon had us at anchor at Cuxhaven, twenty miles from the mouth of the river. Here we were also detained two days, waiting for a steamboat to tow us to Hamburg, where were vessels of all nations at anchor.Hamburg is seventy-five miles from the sea on thenorthern side of the Elbe. Its location is partly upon a great number of small islands formed by the Elbe and the Alster. It is divided into old and new town, and is surrounded by lofty ramparts and a broad ditch. The streets are very narrow generally, and the houses, being six and seven stories high, render them dark and dreary. The churches are mostly of Gothic architecture, having lofty spires, which are covered with copper.Perhaps there is no country in the world where the means of education can equal those of the North of Germany. At Hamburg there are over an hundred thousand volumes of books, in only two libraries. The universities of Germany are attended by students from all parts of Europe and oftentimes from America.Our cargo consisted of wheat, flour, Gin, &c. We hoisted sail and proceeded down the river. When abreast Cuxhaven we clewed up and let go the second bower. The current was so strong that this was no sooner fast than the cable parted and we ran near to the quicksands, that lay under our stern at the distance of half a mile. We immediately let go another and veered away until she was checked of her progress. By this time we had out about 90 fathoms of cable, and were within a stone's throw of the sands. Here we lay four hours momentarily fearing this cable would also part, and our destruction be sure. The tide beginning to turn, we manned the windlass and hove the ship to her anchor, which was soon lifted, and we dropped away to the eddy of Cuxhaven.The next morning another anchor was sent from the shore. We then weighed anchor and stood out to sea, passed Heligoland, where we left our pilot.With a fair wind we ran along the coast of Holland, and spoke several English, French and Dutch fishermen. Setting studding-sails alow and aloft we ran through the fleet, which is always at anchor at the Downs; had a delightful view of the coast along from Margate to Beachy Head; and passed the high Chalk Cliffs of Dover, which rise almost perpendicularly to the height of two or three hundred feet.Here is situated the famous castle of Dover. There are many tiers of windows or loop-holes for musketry worked in the cliff, and the subterranean barracks and passages are extensive. The besieged can retreat through these passages at pleasure. The barracks are sufficient for the accommodation of three or four thousand men.This was formerly the place of confinement of criminals, and is now so used for debtors.The town of Dover is situated on a low marshy soil, scarcely visible from the sea, and is principally inhabited by pilots for London and the north sea.Life-boats are stationed there at the expense of the government, to render assistance to those to whom accident may befall. One third of the money obtained from ships' crews goes to government, while the remaining two-thirds is retained by the crew of the life-boat. Each pilot is obliged to serve seven years before he can take a boat, and only a few can obtain an appointment at that time.The appointments are made by the Admiralty of England, which is composed of old men who have spent long lives at sea, and are supposed to thoroughly understand navigation, and extricating ships from all possible difficulties.When a person has completed his term of apprenticeship, he goes before the admiralty, who suppose a ship to be placed in the worst possible dilemma, and then ask him his plan of extricating her, or the course he would pursue, were he master of it.If he fails to agree with them, he is sent back to complete his apprenticeship, though they seldom appear the second time, usually hiring out to some other person who may get an appointment.The pilot-boats are nicely constructed and dance and bound over the wave as fearlessly as the fish of the sea.We passed the Eddystone lighthouse, which is situated about fourteen miles from the English coast and in one of the most tempestuous places in the known world. Several houses have been built on the same spot and could not withstand the heavy sea. One builder said, on the completion of his work, that the winds might blow and the waves might beat against it, but he should be as safe there as upon the highlands of Scotland. But in a night, he and his works were lost. The present one is built upon the very neck of the rock, and dove-tailed to the rock, and each piece to the other. The lantern is about 90 feet high, and yet the water at times beats over it. Three men are stationed there at a time to avoid all suspicions of ill in the case of a death or any accident which may befall any one of them. At a time when there were only two, one died from some sudden cause, and the other fearful that suspicion would rest upon him, should he throw the body into the sea, kept it many days hoping for an opportunity to have the body examined, and thus remove all grounds of suspicion. The weather was such that no boat could reach him to whom he could communicatehis situation, and there he remained "alone with the dead," amid the roaring of the elements, till the stench that arose from the body filled the whole house.In a short time, before a fine breeze, we were out of sight of land, when we saw a barque standing to the westward apparently in distress, with her masts and bowsprit gone. We ran close to her and hailed them, asking them if in want of any thing. One of the fore-mast hands answered, and said they were in want of bread and water. We offered them bread and told them to come for it. He said all of their boats were gone to Davy Jones' locker, and they could not.Our boats were lowered away and I went in charge to the ship with a quantity of bread.Never before had I seen a ship in so bad a condition. The fore-mast was gone by the board, which in its fall killed the mate; the bowsprit by the night-heads; on the larboard side the forecastle was stove in, near the water's edge, and almost every swell would wash overboard. The pumps were kept in constant action. To add wretchedness to the scene, the captain was so drunk that he was obliged to hang on the companion to keep himself from falling. Soon as we were aboard, the captain, intent upon his liquor, asked if we would have some brandy. Some of the crew went with him.As he came up, I asked him if he did not consider it altogether unsafe to be in such a miserable craft. He replied in an inarticulate manner, "Miserable craft; she's better than all your white pine ships, now," and reeling, fell back on the companion.We returned to our ship and left him to enjoy his peaceful security, and with a favorable breeze we lost sight of him.What his fate was I know not, but I fear he speedily went to his rest, where he will remain "till the sea shall give up her dead."We had a fine voyage, with no unusual occurrence. We reached Partridge island where we took on a pilot, who soon landed us safely at St. Johns about the last of March, 1841. Here I remained several months, determined to abandon the seas. At length getting again discontented, I left my family and went to Boston to get a situation. From thence I went to New Orleans, where I remained some weeks, and shipped myself on board the Clyde, Capt. Reed, bound for Glasgow, Scotland.Nothing save the usual occurrences of sailing attended the voyage, which was speedily terminated. Arriving at Glasgow we were paid off.Glasgow, situated upon the Clyde, is the largest city in Scotland and owes its rapid and still prosperous increase to its manufacturing interest, principally, which is vast indeed. The streets are wide and generally well paved.The Cathedral is a massive building of gothic architecture, and stands upon a hill in the center of the city. The buildings are blackened by the coal smoke which hangs over the city in clouds and renders the general aspect indeed gloomy.Having nothing to do and tired of wandering around Glasgow, several of us proposed going to Edinburgh, a distance of forty miles, which was performed by stagecoach, over a hilly, though an excellently well worked road.Edinburgh is situated upon the southern shore of the Frith of Forth, two miles from the sea. Its situationis indeed fine, occupying high ridges of land, and is surrounded, except on the north side, by high, craggy rocks.The streets of the old town, which is built on the two southern ridges, are narrow and dirty. The houses are often ten and eleven stories high.Those of the new town, built upon the northern ridge, are different, being unsurpassed by any in the world in regularity and elegance. A high bridge over the ravine connects the two towns.Edinburgh is chiefly the residence of lawyers and men of literature. It has the most flourishing University in all Europe, having about forty professors connected with it, and has at times two thousand students. There are a great number of libraries, and in one connected with the University are 100,000 volumes.In the neighborhood of Edinburgh is a huge rock, which attracts the attention of visitors, called Sampson's ribs.Returning to Glasgow, I shipped as mate of the Windsor Castle, bound for St. Johns, N. B. We proceeded down the Clyde and ran out the North Channel into the Atlantic, having fifty passengers. The time passed very finely indeed, until we made the Newfoundland banks, when we were met by a stormy head wind, which delayed us very much.Our stores got short, the passengers got discouraged, the crew became dissatisfied, attributing the scarcity to the bad calculation of the captain. Their dissatisfaction was of short duration, as the wind shifted, and soon we were safely anchored at St. Johns.Again I resolved to leave the sea altogether and live with my family which were now growing up aroundme, and needed me very much at home. I hired or leased a piece of land, and built a small cottage. This occupied six or eight months.Again time passed tediously, probably more so from the fact that all of the men belonging to the middle and lower classes are mariners and generally gone from home, so that a person of those classes finds but few associates. I remained on shore but a short time after the completion of the house.Shipped on board the barque Duncan, bound for Savannah, Geo., for lumber, cotton, &c. I had as shipmates the only two brothers of my wife. On our arrival at Savannah, one was taken sick and carried to the hospital, where after ten days' sickness he died and was buried in the ground belonging to the hospital. A few days after the other was drowned and also buried there.We lay at Savannah about two months waiting a cargo, which was at last procured, of timber. Difficulties arose between the captain and second mate, which resulted in the discharge of the latter. I was appointed to fill his place. A few days after the chief mate applied for a discharge as he could get better wages on some other voyage, which was granted him, and I was still promoted.Getting ready for sea, a pilot came aboard. Weighed anchor and stood out to sea.Hearing the captain accost the pilot by a name familiar to me, I was induced to believe him an early acquaintance, though I could not recognize in him the least familiar feature. So fully was I impressed with the idea of finding an acquaintance of earlier days thatI was induced to speak to him, and a happy recognition of old school and play-fellows ensued.The captain by this means found me to be a yankee, having till that moment supposed me to be an Englishman.The scenes of other days were rapidly recalled. Having heard nothing from home since I left in 1830, I most anxiously questioned him, but could learn nothing.At the time I left home I resolved that the sea of forgetfulness should wash over me and them, and for a long time I kept my parents in ignorance of my whereabouts.This feeling at last wore away and I addressed my mother, but no welcome messenger returned to me—again and again I wrote, still they remained silent.At last feeling myself an outcast and entirely forgotten by them, I resolved to write no more, and gave up all idea of ever again seeing them, meaning to spend my days, and lay my bones, on foreign soil.But the accidental meeting of this friend of my youth dispelled the idea and I requested him to notify them of my situation.Soon we were abreast Tyber's island, and the pilot left us and pulled for the shore.Standing north with a fair wind, we soon reached the Gulf Stream. Having often spoken of this stream without giving the reader an account of it, I propose doing it here.The Gulf Stream derives its name from a remarkable current in the Atlantic, running from southwest to northeast along the coast of America, from Florida to Newfoundland, supposed by many to be caused by thetrade winds which blow the waters of the Atlantic into the Gulf of Mexico, and they seeking their level rush out, finding a passage between the Bahama isles and the American coast, thus continuing around to the coast of England, decreasing in velocity with the extension of its surface and distance from the gulf. Others suppose it is caused by the current of the Atlantic, which is to the southwest, meeting the continent by which a part of its waters are repelled and forced into a counter current along the shore through the gulf.Some very few suppose that the waters of the Pacific rushing through under the continent and coming up in the Gulf of Mexico, and thus on in course, are the cause of it. Were this the case there would be a vortex or whirlpool in the Pacific and a monstrous boiling in the gulf which would have long ago have been discovered. The first reason or cause given is the generally accepted one.In continuing, with the reader, on with the voyage, I would say we encountered a most violent gale, attended with violent rain accompanied to an alarming degree with lightning and thunder.We ran eight days before the wind under close-reefed top-sail and fore-sail. The wind blowing from the south, which with the current kept a long and heavy swell. With two men at the helm we were scarcely able to keep her before the wind. She being heavily loaded with lumber labored tremendously.About twelve o'clock one night a big sea pooped us, (a heavy sea striking against the stern or quarter of the vessel when she is scudding before the wind) bursting the bulwarks from their stanchions, carrying away most of our provisions that were lashed to the deck. Thewater-casks that were lashed each side of the long boat had their heads knocked in, leaving the sides standing unhurt.Most of the crew seeing the swell sprang into the rigging and thus saved themselves from harm. The captain being at the helm, assisting in controlling the vessel, was struck and carried forward with great force, as must be supposed from the effect upon the water-casks.The second mate and myself both seeing the situation of the vessel sprang from the mizzen-rigging and seized the helm before she had time to broach to, which had she done, all would have been lost. The water when we left the rigging was up to our arms upon deck, and running over the rail of the vessel. Our vessel was apparently sinking, but was relieved by the bulwarks giving way, clearing the decks. The captain coming aft with bruised head avowed his determination of never scudding a vessel again.The second mate and myself kept the wheel three days and two nights, for the captain thought no others competent. As the wind abated sail was made, and an observation taken, which was the first taken since leaving Savannah, and we found ourselves on the northern side of St. George's Banks at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy.The wind, blowing fresh from the northeast, was in our teeth (as it is termed) obliging us to beat about for several days, when it shifted into the northwest enabling us to run up the American coast. We sighted Grand Menan, when the wind dying away to a start calm, we were carried back by the tide about forty miles, when a favoring breeze springing up, we squaredour yards and set studding-sails and soon had a pilot on board and were at St. Johns.I remained with my family but a few days when I left St. Johns, and entered upon the duties of commander of the Warrior, a vessel of 120 tons burden, laden with plank, lath, &c., bound for Cork. We sailed from St. Johns the first of September, 1842, had a very fine passage, and at the expiration of thirty-four days we were safely at Cork, when leaving the vessel in charge of the mate I went on shore for orders respecting my cargo.Cork is situated at the southeast side of the island on the river Lee, fourteen miles from the sea. Its harbor called the cove is elegant, and strongly fortified. The city presents something of a Venitian appearance, the several channels through which the river empties itself into the harbor being quayed.There are a great number of elegant buildings, public and private, situated on the hill which overlooks the town. Those more worthy of note are the bishop's palace, the custom-house, and court-house which has in front a pediment supported on six Corinthian columns surrounded by a group of colossial figures.I was ordered to proceed to Belfast with my cargo. Stood up the channel on a bowline. After rounding the Tuskar light we had a fine wind, till abreast the Isle of Man, when in consequence of a head wind we were put back. For three days I never left the deck except to my regular meals. The wind veering around we again stood up the channel and weathered the South Rock light fifteen miles before Belfast. Tacked and stood over to the Scotch side, dodging about during the night. Daylight found us abreast the Copeland light. Seeinga pilot boat I hoisted the Union Jack as a signal, which soon brought him on board, and we found a safe anchorage at Belfast. Procured a berth and hove her to it. Discharged my men, most of them having been paid at St. Johns, to run thither.I remained on board four days and sold the ship for £700 sterling, received a check on the bank of London for the amount. Proceeded to Liverpool by steamer, from thence to London by railroad. Obtained the money and returned to Liverpool. Shipped on board of the Duncan and sailed for St. Johns with the money, early in November, 1842. The wind blowing fresh up channel, the captain concluded to run out of the north channel. Had a fine passage until we were abreast Tory island, on the northwest coast of Ireland, when the wind shifted into the northeast, and blew a fresh breeze. Running down the coast at night we were all greatly alarmed at the cry from the lookout, "Breakers ahead." The helm was instantly put hard up, which the ship immediately answered and came around upon her keel. Although under double-reefed-top-sails, they were trimmed in a few moments, and the ship began to gather headway, and stood offshore till daylight, when we made sail and stood to the westward. Without any thing of particular note we reached the Newfoundland banks, and saw and spoke the ship Thetis of St. Johns. She had the night previous run down a fishing schooner, seeing nothing of her until she struck her midships. Soon as possible the ship was brought to and boats lowered, but not a vestige was seen. Their loud shrieks were heard as they sank to rise no more. Anxious friends have no doubt long awaited their return and arestill ignorant of their doom. Thus many a ship's crew have been swallowed up in a moment, with the waves their winding sheet, the howling winds their requiem.One day we fell in with a large iceberg whose spiral top towered far above our mast head. With this we sailed some time. About 9 P. M. it shut in with a heavy fog from the southeast so dense that we could not discern objects the length of the ship ahead of us. This rendered our situation the most unpleasant, floating as we were with so formidable a companion among such a host of fishermen as ever throng that place, with no means of testing our proximity to them.At length the sharp cry of the looker-out, "Hard port the helm," aroused all hands. The order was quickly obeyed, but not quick enough to avoid a severe blow from the ice. The shock aroused the captain, who came quickly upon deck. The pumps were rigged and every thing clewed up except the fore and main-top-sails, the yard lowered down and the reef-tackles rolled out; and thus we ran the remainder of the night. Heard the report of a gun mingled with the surf dashing, as we supposed, against the iron bound coast or against the ice. From the situation we were in we had much to fear, and in fact our terror could not be told, expecting each successive moment would bring us on to the rocks, or ice which would be even more certain destruction.Another gun was discharged, and the dashing grew still louder. Whither to steer we knew not. Every ear and eye was called into requisition. Hope could hardly point us to a safe deliverance. All were certain that a most dreadful crisis was rapidly approaching. Another gun was fired which sounded but a half stone's throwfrom us, and the flash gleamed through the fog, and all was dark as before. Attentively listening I thought I could distinguish the strokes from the large paddle wheels of some Steamer, and a moment after our fears were greatly relieved by the rapid passing of one of the Liverpool line of steamers.Daylight appeared and we made all possible sail, notwithstanding the fog had cleared away but very little.Wind and weather favoring, we were soon safely anchored at the docks of St. Johns, and I was again in the bosom of my little family, where I remained working at rigging until the summer of 1843.

London. Thames tunnel. Bank of England. St. Paul's Church. Westminster Abbey. The tower. Sail for St. Johns. A storm. Proceed to Londonderry. Its description. Wolf Rock. Sail for Holland. Burial at sea. Arrive at Hamburg. Its description. Come near going upon the sands. Dover cliffs and castle. Pilots. Eddystone light. A ship in distress with a drunken captain. Return to my family. Go to New Orleans. Sail for Glasgow. Go to Edinburgh. Go to St. Johns resolved to quit the sea. Build a house. Go to Savannah. Meet an old school fellow. Appointed chief mate. Gulf stream. A storm. Go home. Sail to Cork. Belfast. Thence to London. Return home. Imminent danger and narrow escape.

London, the capital of England and metropolis of the British empire, is situated on the banks of the Thames, in the counties of Middlesex and Surrey, and within a day's journey of the southern shore of Britain.

On the spot now occupied by the city, or more ancient part of the metropolis, which is on the left or northern bank of the Thames, a town had been built and possessed by the Romans eighteen centuries ago, and from that period it has constantly been the seat of the increasing and busy population. Its chief increase and improvement, however, have been since the great fire in 1666, which destroyed a large number of the old streets and public edifices.

It is impossible by any written description to convey adequate ideas of the real magnitude of London. Indeed,it is not until after a person has been in the city for some months, that he begins to comprehend it. Every new walk opens to him streets, squares and divisions which he has never seen before. And even those places where he is most familiar, are discovered day by day to possess archways and thoroughfares within and around them, which had never been noticed before. Even people who have spent their whole lives in the city, often find streets and buildings, of which they had never before heard, and which they had never before seen.

The Thames Tunnel which is the medium for communication between the Surrey and Middlesex sides of the river, was designed and carried into execution by a joint stock company, which, however, has been largely assisted by government. The tunnel consists of two avenues or arched vaults, beneath the river. Each avenue is of such height and breadth as to afford a beautiful walk, and is lighted with gas. It is about two miles below London bridge, and was begun in 1822.

Standing in some measure behind the site of the Royal Exchange, facing Threadneedle street, are seen the extensive series of stone buildings containing the Bank of England. The whole buildings and courts include an area of about eight acres, and were completed in 1778. In 1832, there were employed in the bank 820 clerks and porters, and 38 printers and engravers. There were besides, 193 pensioners. The salaries and pensions amounted to £218,003; the house expenses, £39,187, and the allowance to directors, £8,000.

These statistics will give the reader a better opportunityto judge of the enormous amount of business that this bank transacts annually.

The hours at which the bank is open are from nine in the morning till five in the afternoon, holidays excepted.

St. Paul's Church, which is built in the form of a Greek cross, is the most prominent object in London. It measures 514 feet in length, 286 in breadth, and 370 in height, to the topmost pinnacle. There are three porticoes at as many entrances, on the north, west, and south. That on the west is the principal, with twelve lofty Corinthian pillars below, and the angles above crowned with handsome bell towers, the size of ordinary church towers or steeples.

The great bell of St. Paul's is only rung when a member of the royal family dies, and its fine deep tones can be distinctly heard at a distance of several miles. The great bell weighs four and a half tons, and is ten feet in diameter.

Westminster Abbey is situated nearly opposite the houses of Parliament, and is open to inspection on the north and east, but on the west it is much crowded upon by dwelling-houses.

In very early times this spot of ground was a small insular tract, surrounded by the waters of the Thames, and called Thorny Island. A monastic institution was founded here on the introduction of Christianity into Britain. An Abbey was raised upon the site of the ruined monastic building, under Edward the Confessor.

The ground plan, as usual, bore the form of the cross. Rights and endowments were granted, and the edifice assumed a great degree of architectural grandeur. Ithad become the place for the inauguration of the English monarchs, and William the Conqueror was crowned here with great pomp and solemnity, in 1066.

Henry III. enlarged the abbey, and the building continued in the state in which he left it until Henry VII. added a chapel, built in the florid Gothic style, on which the greatest skill of the architect and the sculptor was displayed; exhibiting the most splendid structure of the age, and so highly esteemed, that it was enjoined that the remains of royalty alone should be interred within its walls.

During the reign of Henry VIII., of its revenues, Henry raised Westminster to the dignity of a city, and its abbey was constituted a cathedral. It was, however, afterwards re-united to London in 1550.

Westminster Abbey, during the reign of William and Mary, was thoroughly repaired, and the towers added at the western entrance, under the direction of the celebrated Sir Christopher Wren, to whom London owes so much of its architectural grandeur.

The length of the abbey is 416 feet; breadth, at the transept, 203 feet; nave 102 feet; height of the west tower 225 feet. The exterior measurement, including Henry VII.'s Chapel, is 530 feet.

On entering the great western door between the towers, the magnificence of the abbey at once strikes the beholder with reverential awe. Nearly the whole of the interior appears in grand masses of towering Gothic columns of gray marble, connecting the pavement with the roof, and separating the nave from the side aisles. A screen divides the nave from the choir, which is surmounted by a noble organ, while beyond, the eye soarsamid graceful columns, tracery, and decorated windows, to the summit of the eastern arch that overlooks the adjacent chapels.

The walls on either side display a great profusion of sepulchral monuments, among which are many finely executed pieces of sculpture, and touching memorials of those whose exploits or exertions deserve the notice of posterity.

There is probably no building in the world around which cluster so many varied and thrilling associations as the Tower in London. For centuries it had been the theatre of England's bloodiest deeds, and its gray old walls stand as the lasting monument of tyranny, despotism, and death. Every stone in that structure has a history to tell. Centuries have come and gone, whole dynasties disappeared, and yet that old Tower still rises in its strength. It is situated in the east part of the metropolis, and on the north side of the riverThames. Its area measures twelve acres. Its origin has been imputed by some to Julius Cæsar. Still, the generally received opinion is, that the White Tower which is the oldest and principal edifice, owes its beginning to William the Conqueror, about 1076. This noted tower is 96 feet in breadth, 116 in length, and 92 in height. Its walls are 14 feet thick. The mint and menagerie which formerly gave notoriety to the tower, have been removed. The common entrance of the tower is on the west side through four gates, which are daily opened with much form and ceremony. I saw nothing so interesting to me in the tower as the Horse Armory, which is a hundred and fifty feet long, and thirty-three wide, containing a line of equestrianfigures, as if in battle array, stretching through the centre. A banner is over the head of each—the ceiling is covered with arms and accoutrements—the walls with armor and figures of ancient warriors. That row of twenty-two horsemen, large as life, armed to the teeth, with helmet and cuirass, and breastplate, and coats of mail, and lances, and swords, and battle-axes, and shields, sitting grim and silent there, is a sight one will not easily forget. They seem ready to charge on the foe, and their attitude and aspect are so fierce, that one almost trembles to walk in front of the steeds. Another object of curiosity is the immense store of fire arms, sufficient to equip one hundred and fifty thousand men, and beautifully arranged for show. Fee for seeing the Armory, sixpence; the Regalia, two shillings and sixpence.

The ship being ready, about the first of February, 1841, we set sail for St. Johns. After a good passage of seventeen days, we saw Mount Desert, on the coast of the United States. At night there were many indications of bad weather; the ship rolled carelessly over the long heavy swell—the light breeze whistled mournfully through the rigging; all at once the main-top-gallant sheet (being chained) parted. Men were sent to bind or fasten it again—while in the act of obeying that order, the main-topsail sheet, (being chained also,) parted. This was considered by the crew as ominous; some prophesied that the ship would be lost, others, that there was some one on board who had committed some awful crime on shore—all were in a state of consternation. At length the Captain went below, and in a moment came running back, saying, "Shorten the sailsas fast as possible, for the barometer has fallen 4-10 in five minutes; bare a hand my good fellows, there is not a moment to lose." Every sail was soon clewed up to the yards, and lowered—there was no wind though it was cloudy, and all thought the barometer had deceived us, but we soon enough found that the truth was told; for while we were yet on the yards it came butt-end foremost, (as it is termed,) and blew with utmost fury. We were unable to get down, consequently were obliged to make the best of it by clinging fast to the rigging, and it was with difficulty that we did so. The water rushed over the deck, the scuppers would not allow it to run off. During this time the Captain was calling aloud with the trumpet, but its sounds did not reach our ears. The breeze lulled a little, and those in the rigging were enabled to get down, when it came with redoubled fury; our main-top-sail was carried away; then we lay twelve hours beating about by wind and waves, amid torrents of rain. At length the wind died away into a start calm; the sea at the same time running very irregular, the waves mounting to the height of twenty or thirty feet. Sail was made as quick as possible, which relieved the laboring of the ship; the fore and main top-sails which had been cleared away were repaired. The wind wore away into the South West. We shaped our course so as to shun the St. George's shoals which we were very near, and stood for St. Johns. The breeze freshened every moment until we found ourselves going at the rate of ten knots per hour. This was indeed cheering after the fearful situation we had but just escaped. But this was not always to last, for we were soon enveloped in a fog so dense,that it was with the greatest difficulty we could manage the ship. We shortened sail, hauled our wind, and according to our own reckoning stood across the bay to the rock known as the Old Proprietor, feeling our way along, we were nearing the Nova Scotia shore. Falling in with a fisherman, we found we were five miles below the grand passage; shaped our course up the bay. Having a fair tide we were soon above Grand Menan, and past most of our danger; firing a gun once in two or three minutes as a signal for a pilot. The fog cleared away a little so as to enable us to press more sail. Soon we saw Split Rock, and finding that we had not proceeded as far as we had supposed, we pressed more sail, setting studding sails on the starboard side, still keeping up the firing which soon brought a pilot, who speedily brought us to safe anchorage in the harbor of St. Johns.

When the ship was safely moored, all hands were discharged. Feeling something of a desire to quit the seas, I resolved to remain on shore a while at least, and in pursuance of that resolution, obtained employment at rigging vessels, which business I followed nearly four months; when getting tired and uneasy of the monotony of such a life, I shipped as mate of the brig Comet, the last of July, bound, for Londonderry, (Ireland,) with plank for cargo. Nothing unusual occurred on our passage, and in due time arrived at Londonderry and discharged our cargo.

The little leisure time allotted us was spent in rambling around the city. Londonderry is situated on the west bank of the Foyle. The original town was built in 1603, but was burned in 1608. The wall of thecity was about twenty feet high, and about eight thick, of splendid architecture, though somewhat ancient. The walls are mounted with towers at interval of two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet; these towers, and also the walls between them are mounted with cannon. The city is entered by four gates which are of iron, of the same height of the walls.

Among the objects of curiosity which we visited was Walker's monument, erected to the memory of Governor Walker.

In the Court House yard stands a cannon which is four feet and six inches round, and eleven feet long; it is calledRoaring Meg, from the loudness of its report during the siege; it bears the following inscription:—"Fishmongers, Londond, 1642."

We also visited the Gothic Cathedral, which was erected in 1633, and is a most splendid edifice. There are also many other public buildings of which I cannot speak, as I had not time to examine them minutely.

With a fair wind we proceeded down Lough Foyle, and as we rounded Molin Head, set studding sails, and steered down the north channel through the Irish Sea, running near to the Irish coast. I have never before had so beautiful a view of the Irish scenery; though situated as I was I could get but a faint idea of it. In a few days we hauled around between Land's End and the Isle of Scilly. Here is situated the well known rock called Wolf's Rock, situated but a little distance from Land's End. Its name is derived from the Wolf-like roaring which is heard in calm weather to the distance of several miles. The rock is a wash, or half tide rock, and is hollow; the water of the swell with which it fills, soon disappears, which gives rise to the suppositionthat there is a passage through it; but whither this passage leads, conjecture does not tell.

We entered the English Channel and stood towards the Downs, where we came to anchor, and remained several days, in consequence of head winds.

The wind favoring us we stood into the North Sea. One of our men fell from the main-royal-yard, which killed him instantly. We kept the body a day or two hoping to be able to bury it on the island of Heligoland at the mouth of the Elbe. But that could not be done on account of the warm weather, and we were obliged to bury him at sea. We sewed him in his hammock, fastening weights at his feet sufficient to sink the body. The body was then placed upon a plank which rested on the rail of the vessel. The vessel was then hove to and her progress considerably checked. The burial service was then read, and as the reader came to—"We commit the body to the deep"—the plank was raised, and the body slipped from it. The water parted to receive it, and closed over him forever.

We braced full and stood for the mouth of the Elbe, where we remained at anchor during the night in consequence of the darkness.

In the morning a pilot came aboard and attempted to run us up to Cuxhaven, but on account of the strong tide he could make but little progress. We waited for a steamer to take us in tow, which soon had us at anchor at Cuxhaven, twenty miles from the mouth of the river. Here we were also detained two days, waiting for a steamboat to tow us to Hamburg, where were vessels of all nations at anchor.

Hamburg is seventy-five miles from the sea on thenorthern side of the Elbe. Its location is partly upon a great number of small islands formed by the Elbe and the Alster. It is divided into old and new town, and is surrounded by lofty ramparts and a broad ditch. The streets are very narrow generally, and the houses, being six and seven stories high, render them dark and dreary. The churches are mostly of Gothic architecture, having lofty spires, which are covered with copper.

Perhaps there is no country in the world where the means of education can equal those of the North of Germany. At Hamburg there are over an hundred thousand volumes of books, in only two libraries. The universities of Germany are attended by students from all parts of Europe and oftentimes from America.

Our cargo consisted of wheat, flour, Gin, &c. We hoisted sail and proceeded down the river. When abreast Cuxhaven we clewed up and let go the second bower. The current was so strong that this was no sooner fast than the cable parted and we ran near to the quicksands, that lay under our stern at the distance of half a mile. We immediately let go another and veered away until she was checked of her progress. By this time we had out about 90 fathoms of cable, and were within a stone's throw of the sands. Here we lay four hours momentarily fearing this cable would also part, and our destruction be sure. The tide beginning to turn, we manned the windlass and hove the ship to her anchor, which was soon lifted, and we dropped away to the eddy of Cuxhaven.

The next morning another anchor was sent from the shore. We then weighed anchor and stood out to sea, passed Heligoland, where we left our pilot.

With a fair wind we ran along the coast of Holland, and spoke several English, French and Dutch fishermen. Setting studding-sails alow and aloft we ran through the fleet, which is always at anchor at the Downs; had a delightful view of the coast along from Margate to Beachy Head; and passed the high Chalk Cliffs of Dover, which rise almost perpendicularly to the height of two or three hundred feet.

Here is situated the famous castle of Dover. There are many tiers of windows or loop-holes for musketry worked in the cliff, and the subterranean barracks and passages are extensive. The besieged can retreat through these passages at pleasure. The barracks are sufficient for the accommodation of three or four thousand men.

This was formerly the place of confinement of criminals, and is now so used for debtors.

The town of Dover is situated on a low marshy soil, scarcely visible from the sea, and is principally inhabited by pilots for London and the north sea.

Life-boats are stationed there at the expense of the government, to render assistance to those to whom accident may befall. One third of the money obtained from ships' crews goes to government, while the remaining two-thirds is retained by the crew of the life-boat. Each pilot is obliged to serve seven years before he can take a boat, and only a few can obtain an appointment at that time.

The appointments are made by the Admiralty of England, which is composed of old men who have spent long lives at sea, and are supposed to thoroughly understand navigation, and extricating ships from all possible difficulties.

When a person has completed his term of apprenticeship, he goes before the admiralty, who suppose a ship to be placed in the worst possible dilemma, and then ask him his plan of extricating her, or the course he would pursue, were he master of it.

If he fails to agree with them, he is sent back to complete his apprenticeship, though they seldom appear the second time, usually hiring out to some other person who may get an appointment.

The pilot-boats are nicely constructed and dance and bound over the wave as fearlessly as the fish of the sea.

We passed the Eddystone lighthouse, which is situated about fourteen miles from the English coast and in one of the most tempestuous places in the known world. Several houses have been built on the same spot and could not withstand the heavy sea. One builder said, on the completion of his work, that the winds might blow and the waves might beat against it, but he should be as safe there as upon the highlands of Scotland. But in a night, he and his works were lost. The present one is built upon the very neck of the rock, and dove-tailed to the rock, and each piece to the other. The lantern is about 90 feet high, and yet the water at times beats over it. Three men are stationed there at a time to avoid all suspicions of ill in the case of a death or any accident which may befall any one of them. At a time when there were only two, one died from some sudden cause, and the other fearful that suspicion would rest upon him, should he throw the body into the sea, kept it many days hoping for an opportunity to have the body examined, and thus remove all grounds of suspicion. The weather was such that no boat could reach him to whom he could communicatehis situation, and there he remained "alone with the dead," amid the roaring of the elements, till the stench that arose from the body filled the whole house.

In a short time, before a fine breeze, we were out of sight of land, when we saw a barque standing to the westward apparently in distress, with her masts and bowsprit gone. We ran close to her and hailed them, asking them if in want of any thing. One of the fore-mast hands answered, and said they were in want of bread and water. We offered them bread and told them to come for it. He said all of their boats were gone to Davy Jones' locker, and they could not.

Our boats were lowered away and I went in charge to the ship with a quantity of bread.

Never before had I seen a ship in so bad a condition. The fore-mast was gone by the board, which in its fall killed the mate; the bowsprit by the night-heads; on the larboard side the forecastle was stove in, near the water's edge, and almost every swell would wash overboard. The pumps were kept in constant action. To add wretchedness to the scene, the captain was so drunk that he was obliged to hang on the companion to keep himself from falling. Soon as we were aboard, the captain, intent upon his liquor, asked if we would have some brandy. Some of the crew went with him.

As he came up, I asked him if he did not consider it altogether unsafe to be in such a miserable craft. He replied in an inarticulate manner, "Miserable craft; she's better than all your white pine ships, now," and reeling, fell back on the companion.

We returned to our ship and left him to enjoy his peaceful security, and with a favorable breeze we lost sight of him.

What his fate was I know not, but I fear he speedily went to his rest, where he will remain "till the sea shall give up her dead."

We had a fine voyage, with no unusual occurrence. We reached Partridge island where we took on a pilot, who soon landed us safely at St. Johns about the last of March, 1841. Here I remained several months, determined to abandon the seas. At length getting again discontented, I left my family and went to Boston to get a situation. From thence I went to New Orleans, where I remained some weeks, and shipped myself on board the Clyde, Capt. Reed, bound for Glasgow, Scotland.

Nothing save the usual occurrences of sailing attended the voyage, which was speedily terminated. Arriving at Glasgow we were paid off.

Glasgow, situated upon the Clyde, is the largest city in Scotland and owes its rapid and still prosperous increase to its manufacturing interest, principally, which is vast indeed. The streets are wide and generally well paved.

The Cathedral is a massive building of gothic architecture, and stands upon a hill in the center of the city. The buildings are blackened by the coal smoke which hangs over the city in clouds and renders the general aspect indeed gloomy.

Having nothing to do and tired of wandering around Glasgow, several of us proposed going to Edinburgh, a distance of forty miles, which was performed by stagecoach, over a hilly, though an excellently well worked road.

Edinburgh is situated upon the southern shore of the Frith of Forth, two miles from the sea. Its situationis indeed fine, occupying high ridges of land, and is surrounded, except on the north side, by high, craggy rocks.

The streets of the old town, which is built on the two southern ridges, are narrow and dirty. The houses are often ten and eleven stories high.

Those of the new town, built upon the northern ridge, are different, being unsurpassed by any in the world in regularity and elegance. A high bridge over the ravine connects the two towns.

Edinburgh is chiefly the residence of lawyers and men of literature. It has the most flourishing University in all Europe, having about forty professors connected with it, and has at times two thousand students. There are a great number of libraries, and in one connected with the University are 100,000 volumes.

In the neighborhood of Edinburgh is a huge rock, which attracts the attention of visitors, called Sampson's ribs.

Returning to Glasgow, I shipped as mate of the Windsor Castle, bound for St. Johns, N. B. We proceeded down the Clyde and ran out the North Channel into the Atlantic, having fifty passengers. The time passed very finely indeed, until we made the Newfoundland banks, when we were met by a stormy head wind, which delayed us very much.

Our stores got short, the passengers got discouraged, the crew became dissatisfied, attributing the scarcity to the bad calculation of the captain. Their dissatisfaction was of short duration, as the wind shifted, and soon we were safely anchored at St. Johns.

Again I resolved to leave the sea altogether and live with my family which were now growing up aroundme, and needed me very much at home. I hired or leased a piece of land, and built a small cottage. This occupied six or eight months.

Again time passed tediously, probably more so from the fact that all of the men belonging to the middle and lower classes are mariners and generally gone from home, so that a person of those classes finds but few associates. I remained on shore but a short time after the completion of the house.

Shipped on board the barque Duncan, bound for Savannah, Geo., for lumber, cotton, &c. I had as shipmates the only two brothers of my wife. On our arrival at Savannah, one was taken sick and carried to the hospital, where after ten days' sickness he died and was buried in the ground belonging to the hospital. A few days after the other was drowned and also buried there.

We lay at Savannah about two months waiting a cargo, which was at last procured, of timber. Difficulties arose between the captain and second mate, which resulted in the discharge of the latter. I was appointed to fill his place. A few days after the chief mate applied for a discharge as he could get better wages on some other voyage, which was granted him, and I was still promoted.

Getting ready for sea, a pilot came aboard. Weighed anchor and stood out to sea.

Hearing the captain accost the pilot by a name familiar to me, I was induced to believe him an early acquaintance, though I could not recognize in him the least familiar feature. So fully was I impressed with the idea of finding an acquaintance of earlier days thatI was induced to speak to him, and a happy recognition of old school and play-fellows ensued.

The captain by this means found me to be a yankee, having till that moment supposed me to be an Englishman.

The scenes of other days were rapidly recalled. Having heard nothing from home since I left in 1830, I most anxiously questioned him, but could learn nothing.

At the time I left home I resolved that the sea of forgetfulness should wash over me and them, and for a long time I kept my parents in ignorance of my whereabouts.

This feeling at last wore away and I addressed my mother, but no welcome messenger returned to me—again and again I wrote, still they remained silent.

At last feeling myself an outcast and entirely forgotten by them, I resolved to write no more, and gave up all idea of ever again seeing them, meaning to spend my days, and lay my bones, on foreign soil.

But the accidental meeting of this friend of my youth dispelled the idea and I requested him to notify them of my situation.

Soon we were abreast Tyber's island, and the pilot left us and pulled for the shore.

Standing north with a fair wind, we soon reached the Gulf Stream. Having often spoken of this stream without giving the reader an account of it, I propose doing it here.

The Gulf Stream derives its name from a remarkable current in the Atlantic, running from southwest to northeast along the coast of America, from Florida to Newfoundland, supposed by many to be caused by thetrade winds which blow the waters of the Atlantic into the Gulf of Mexico, and they seeking their level rush out, finding a passage between the Bahama isles and the American coast, thus continuing around to the coast of England, decreasing in velocity with the extension of its surface and distance from the gulf. Others suppose it is caused by the current of the Atlantic, which is to the southwest, meeting the continent by which a part of its waters are repelled and forced into a counter current along the shore through the gulf.

Some very few suppose that the waters of the Pacific rushing through under the continent and coming up in the Gulf of Mexico, and thus on in course, are the cause of it. Were this the case there would be a vortex or whirlpool in the Pacific and a monstrous boiling in the gulf which would have long ago have been discovered. The first reason or cause given is the generally accepted one.

In continuing, with the reader, on with the voyage, I would say we encountered a most violent gale, attended with violent rain accompanied to an alarming degree with lightning and thunder.

We ran eight days before the wind under close-reefed top-sail and fore-sail. The wind blowing from the south, which with the current kept a long and heavy swell. With two men at the helm we were scarcely able to keep her before the wind. She being heavily loaded with lumber labored tremendously.

About twelve o'clock one night a big sea pooped us, (a heavy sea striking against the stern or quarter of the vessel when she is scudding before the wind) bursting the bulwarks from their stanchions, carrying away most of our provisions that were lashed to the deck. Thewater-casks that were lashed each side of the long boat had their heads knocked in, leaving the sides standing unhurt.

Most of the crew seeing the swell sprang into the rigging and thus saved themselves from harm. The captain being at the helm, assisting in controlling the vessel, was struck and carried forward with great force, as must be supposed from the effect upon the water-casks.

The second mate and myself both seeing the situation of the vessel sprang from the mizzen-rigging and seized the helm before she had time to broach to, which had she done, all would have been lost. The water when we left the rigging was up to our arms upon deck, and running over the rail of the vessel. Our vessel was apparently sinking, but was relieved by the bulwarks giving way, clearing the decks. The captain coming aft with bruised head avowed his determination of never scudding a vessel again.

The second mate and myself kept the wheel three days and two nights, for the captain thought no others competent. As the wind abated sail was made, and an observation taken, which was the first taken since leaving Savannah, and we found ourselves on the northern side of St. George's Banks at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy.

The wind, blowing fresh from the northeast, was in our teeth (as it is termed) obliging us to beat about for several days, when it shifted into the northwest enabling us to run up the American coast. We sighted Grand Menan, when the wind dying away to a start calm, we were carried back by the tide about forty miles, when a favoring breeze springing up, we squaredour yards and set studding-sails and soon had a pilot on board and were at St. Johns.

I remained with my family but a few days when I left St. Johns, and entered upon the duties of commander of the Warrior, a vessel of 120 tons burden, laden with plank, lath, &c., bound for Cork. We sailed from St. Johns the first of September, 1842, had a very fine passage, and at the expiration of thirty-four days we were safely at Cork, when leaving the vessel in charge of the mate I went on shore for orders respecting my cargo.

Cork is situated at the southeast side of the island on the river Lee, fourteen miles from the sea. Its harbor called the cove is elegant, and strongly fortified. The city presents something of a Venitian appearance, the several channels through which the river empties itself into the harbor being quayed.

There are a great number of elegant buildings, public and private, situated on the hill which overlooks the town. Those more worthy of note are the bishop's palace, the custom-house, and court-house which has in front a pediment supported on six Corinthian columns surrounded by a group of colossial figures.

I was ordered to proceed to Belfast with my cargo. Stood up the channel on a bowline. After rounding the Tuskar light we had a fine wind, till abreast the Isle of Man, when in consequence of a head wind we were put back. For three days I never left the deck except to my regular meals. The wind veering around we again stood up the channel and weathered the South Rock light fifteen miles before Belfast. Tacked and stood over to the Scotch side, dodging about during the night. Daylight found us abreast the Copeland light. Seeinga pilot boat I hoisted the Union Jack as a signal, which soon brought him on board, and we found a safe anchorage at Belfast. Procured a berth and hove her to it. Discharged my men, most of them having been paid at St. Johns, to run thither.

I remained on board four days and sold the ship for £700 sterling, received a check on the bank of London for the amount. Proceeded to Liverpool by steamer, from thence to London by railroad. Obtained the money and returned to Liverpool. Shipped on board of the Duncan and sailed for St. Johns with the money, early in November, 1842. The wind blowing fresh up channel, the captain concluded to run out of the north channel. Had a fine passage until we were abreast Tory island, on the northwest coast of Ireland, when the wind shifted into the northeast, and blew a fresh breeze. Running down the coast at night we were all greatly alarmed at the cry from the lookout, "Breakers ahead." The helm was instantly put hard up, which the ship immediately answered and came around upon her keel. Although under double-reefed-top-sails, they were trimmed in a few moments, and the ship began to gather headway, and stood offshore till daylight, when we made sail and stood to the westward. Without any thing of particular note we reached the Newfoundland banks, and saw and spoke the ship Thetis of St. Johns. She had the night previous run down a fishing schooner, seeing nothing of her until she struck her midships. Soon as possible the ship was brought to and boats lowered, but not a vestige was seen. Their loud shrieks were heard as they sank to rise no more. Anxious friends have no doubt long awaited their return and arestill ignorant of their doom. Thus many a ship's crew have been swallowed up in a moment, with the waves their winding sheet, the howling winds their requiem.

One day we fell in with a large iceberg whose spiral top towered far above our mast head. With this we sailed some time. About 9 P. M. it shut in with a heavy fog from the southeast so dense that we could not discern objects the length of the ship ahead of us. This rendered our situation the most unpleasant, floating as we were with so formidable a companion among such a host of fishermen as ever throng that place, with no means of testing our proximity to them.

At length the sharp cry of the looker-out, "Hard port the helm," aroused all hands. The order was quickly obeyed, but not quick enough to avoid a severe blow from the ice. The shock aroused the captain, who came quickly upon deck. The pumps were rigged and every thing clewed up except the fore and main-top-sails, the yard lowered down and the reef-tackles rolled out; and thus we ran the remainder of the night. Heard the report of a gun mingled with the surf dashing, as we supposed, against the iron bound coast or against the ice. From the situation we were in we had much to fear, and in fact our terror could not be told, expecting each successive moment would bring us on to the rocks, or ice which would be even more certain destruction.

Another gun was discharged, and the dashing grew still louder. Whither to steer we knew not. Every ear and eye was called into requisition. Hope could hardly point us to a safe deliverance. All were certain that a most dreadful crisis was rapidly approaching. Another gun was fired which sounded but a half stone's throwfrom us, and the flash gleamed through the fog, and all was dark as before. Attentively listening I thought I could distinguish the strokes from the large paddle wheels of some Steamer, and a moment after our fears were greatly relieved by the rapid passing of one of the Liverpool line of steamers.

Daylight appeared and we made all possible sail, notwithstanding the fog had cleared away but very little.

Wind and weather favoring, we were soon safely anchored at the docks of St. Johns, and I was again in the bosom of my little family, where I remained working at rigging until the summer of 1843.

CHAPTER XVIII.Command a Vessel. Sail for London. Come near going on the Goodwin Sands. Anchor at London. Sail for Mobile. Serious affair with the Seamen. Spirits discharged from the Ship. A Fortune-Teller. Sail for Liverpool. Sail as mate of the Ashburton. A Storm. Run upon the Rocks. Perilous Situation. Proceed to St. Johns, and go smuggling. Are taken, and ship sold. News from home. Go thither, and unknown. Conclusion.Again on the first of August, 1843, I left St. Johns as commander of the Solway Frith, bound for London, with a crew of twenty-one all told. The owner, (Mr. W—— and wife,) were aboard. Proceeded down the bay of Fundy, very finely indeed; had nothing to mar our happiness, until we were in the chops of the channel. A fine breeze wafted us in the space of forty-eight hours into the Downs, where we came to anchor among threehundred sail from all quarters of the globe. About sunset, one night, the wind freshened a little, and hauled around into the westward, increasing each moment in fury. Some of the ships parted from their anchors, others cut away their masts, and rigging, to prevent if possible their severing the cable, and falling back upon the sands; while some would slip their cable, and run for the north sea. At ten o'clock the gale had attained that height, I thought it best to lower the top-gallant yards and masts; and while in the act, the anchor started, and we ran stern-foremost towards the sands with the greatest rapidity. All were filled with the greatest terror. Knowing there was no time to be lost, I threw out the best bower, and payed out ninety fathom of cable, then the small bower with seventy fathoms. The desired effect was produced; the ship was stopped in her course. Our windlass was nearly cut off by the wearing of the chains. Life-boats were every where bounding upon the wave like feathers, while the ships were plunging and tossing madly about. By four, the next morning, all of our top-gallant masts and yards were upon deck; thus we lay until the day following, when Mr. W—— and lady took the life-boat, and went on shore, and thence to London by land.By the recommendation of the pilot, I chartered the steamer Lion to tow us to London. She towed us as far as the—— light on the roadstead of Sheerness, where we lay in wait for a tide, when she again towed us to the——, where we lightened her of her deck load, and of part of that in the hold, and moored to the East County dock, where the remainder of our cargo was discharged.We then hauled into a dry dock, in order to find ourleakage if possible. It was supposed, as this was the first voyage of the Solway Frith, some bolt-hole was left unstopped through mistake, which had also escaped the caulker's notice, which was, on examination, found to be the case.The ship being caulked, we hauled to the Timass Buoys to await orders. Here we remained but a few days, when Mr. W—— came on board, and ordered me to get ready for Mobile, Alabama, U. S. A.I immediately got my stores and ballast ready. Took on a pilot, and sailed for Mobile, Oct. 7th, 1843. Ran down the shore, and arrived at the Downs with a double-reefed top-sail breeze. Discharged our pilot at Deal, and stood down the channel.On the third day took our departure from the Lizard light bearing North.The day following, unbent cables, stowed anchor, and shaped our course for Mana Isle; had a stiff breeze till we struck the trade winds, when we found it light. Setting studding-sails alow and aloft, made all possible sail, and were enabled, after eighteen days' sail, to reach Mana; found a mistake of twenty miles in my reckoning; as it happened, however, all was well.Ran through the Mana passage, and made the Island of Hayti or St. Domingo.At about dark, sighted the north end of Jamaica, and endeavored to run between that and St. Domingo. The breeze being so very light, I failed in the attempt, and ran to the leeward of Jamaica, and passed the great Command, a very difficult pass, without harm. The breeze began to freshen a little; we rounded the Cape Antonio, the southern point of Cuba, and hauled ourwind for Mobile, on a bowline, and made Massacre Island. A pilot seeing us; came for the ship, before I hoisted a signal; thinking to have a little sport on knowing our vessel to be a fast sailer, crowded all sail, and gained very much of him, he meanwhile urged his little boat along as fast as possible. Heaving to took him aboard, and bracing full, soon were at the entrance of the bay; had much difficulty in getting over the bar, which we struck three times without much damage.Getting over the bar, we proceeded up Dog river, and came to in four fathoms of water. Mr. W—— went to town to attend to his business. I had the sails unbent, and stored in the sail-room.The lighters came along side for the ballast. Finding stone for ballast very scarce indeed, I concluded to screen the stone from the sand, and reserve them for use while I discharged the sand. This being done, all hands under the charge of the mate went about fitting the ship sails, setting the rigging, &c. While this was going on, I was gunning, fishing, or any thing I chose to do. I procured game sufficient, or nearly so, for the ship's use. Much time I spent about the town.Mobile is situated on the west side of the Mobile bay, in a position elevated above the overflow of the river. In 1700 it was founded by the Spanish, and came into the possession of the Americans in 1813, being at that time of but little note, since which time it has increased very much; yet diseases have hindered its rapid growth. It is now one of the greatest markets for cotton in the country.Ships lying at Mobile are obliged to sight their anchors every few days, on account of the nature of the bottom, which is very soft indeed, otherwise theywould become so firmly imbedded in the mud, as to render all attempts to raise them fruitless. Many times the ship is hove directly over the anchor, the windlass manned, and the ship careened over very much, which is continually drawing upon the anchor; and, as she rights herself, is again drawn over; this continues till they are able to heave it to the cat-head by the windlass.One day, while we lay at anchor, I went on shore, and, as usual, left the mate in charge; on my return, found the mate holding to different articles to keep himself from falling as he went across the deck. As I stood talking with him, one of the crew came reeling up, and dared him to fight, at the same time using the most abusive language. I remained silent a few moments, when I ordered him to his duty, and to be quiet. He flew at me in a perfect rage, offering me many insults, and attempted to strike me. Seeing four more of his drunken fellows coming towards me, I thought it about time to be doing something; dealt the first one a blow above his eyes, which threw him with force across a beef barrel, screaming loudly. This blow was so violent that my thumb was dislocated. The second received a blow which put him with his fellow. This also disabled my left hand.The first one now came to the second attack; I met him with the toe of my boot under his chin, which laid him upon the deck where he was willing to remain. The other three soon came hurriedly forward to assist their comrades. Seizing an iron bolt, about two feet long, which was very fortunately near me, I laid them all upon the deck together. The steward took them to their berths, and dressed their wounds. One of them had his jaw broken, another his head badly hurt, andone of his ribs broken. The next morning Mr. W—— came on board, and learned the whole matter. I then discharged all the liquor from the ship, and suffered not a single drop on board after. In a few days three of the men went to their duty; the other two never did, being disabled for a long time. The cargo was sent on board, packed and stowed. We remained at Mobile four or five months before we could get a cargo.It had been nearly a year since my friends had heard any intelligence of me whatever, and that only indirectly. They being extremely solicitous respecting me, laid their case before a traveling fortune-teller, who told them of my exact situation, and of the time I should return to them. This they had little faith in; for so long had I been gone, I was thought to be almost wholly estranged. The capability of those fortune-tellers, I have always and do still doubt; yet I solemnly assert that in this case it was told rightly.We sailed from Mobile in March, bound for Liverpool. When abreast the Bermudas, we were met with a very heavy squall; for this we were tolerably well prepared, though very heavily laden.The sea was very irregular and high; the ship labored very heavily indeed; besides this, our situation was rendered doubly fearful by the extreme darkness. Seldom, if ever, did I pass a worse night than this. There was one remarkable feature attending it: it was unaccompanied with lightning or thunder, which are so frequent in that season and climate. The magnificence of the phospheretic scenery was such that the most timid mariner would pause in his duty amid the warring of the elements, where danger beset him on every hand, to admire its sublimity.The long wished for day at length arrived; and through the dense fog we could occasionally see traces of light, that, with rising of the barometer, were sure indications that the worst was over. Had the storm continued longer, or had the ship been more heavily laden with timber, or with any compact loading, causing a greater dead weight in her bottom, in consequence of which she would have rolled much quicker, and labored much more heavily, I fear all would have been lost.About ten that day, we made sail to steady the ship, the sea being still very heavy.At about two in the afternoon, we had a view of, I think, the largest water, or by some termed, air-spout, I ever saw. Nothing occurred until we reached soundings at the St. George's channel. Here Mrs. W—— presented her husband with a fine boy; when the fact was communicated to the crew, they hoisted the colors and fired a salute.A stormy wind headed us several days; the channel was full of vessels of all nations waiting a passage up. A light breeze springing up, we set studding-sails, and soon made the Tuskar light. Rounding the rock, we shaped our course to Holyhead. A thick fog again setting in, and shutting out the land from sight, we were obliged to run the ship by reckoning. When abreast of Bardsey island, spoke a coaster, and found our reckoning right.At night the fog cleared away. Made sail. Sighted Holyhead light on the coast of Wales; rounded the head at daylight; took on a pilot who soon ran us into Liverpool. When we docked ship, and discharged allhands. A few days after, the ship and cargo was sold upon the water. I was offered the command of her by the new owners, to make a voyage to Quebec; this I declined, not liking the voyage, though I regretted leaving the ship, for she was a beautiful sailor.Wishing to go to St. Johns, I watched every opportunity to work my passage. This I could find no means of doing until some time in July, when I was offered the berth of chief mate on board the Ashburton, Capt. Poole, bound thither. The Ashburton was a splendid ship of 1009 tons register, built for either passengers or freight. All things ready, we left our moorings the 18th of July, with sixteen passengers, and cargo of dry goods, iron, &c. Proceeded down the Mersey, and stood across to the Irish shore, made the hill of Howth. The wind blowing a double reefed top-sail breeze from the southwest, and every moment freshening, we hauled up and stowed our main-sail; tacked and stood back to the English coast. Sighted the Calf-of-man at midnight. Finding we made no progress, and the wind still increasing, we close reefed the fore and mizzen top-sails, and double reefed the main top-sails. At three, the next day, the Captain thought best to square away, and stand northwest towards the North Channel; which course we ran about six hours, then hauled our wind N. N. E. till midnight, and stood N. N. W.During this time I was below: coming on deck at half past twelve, found the Captain had been on deck all night.On learning that, at nine o'clock, the Calf-of-man bore E. S. E. four leagues distant, and since that time we had been bearing northwest, I was fully persuaded all was not right, and went aft into the poop, where the Captain was walking with a thoughtful expression of countenance. The rain was at this time falling in torrents.WRECK OF THE ASHBURTON ON THE COAST OF IRELAND.I told the Captain we were close in upon the Irish shore. With a sneering laugh he replied, "We are far enough from Ireland, and we must still haul our course a little to the westward."I turned away and went forward, biting my lips through indignation at his proceedings. Knowing him to be a skillful navigator, I immediately made up my mind that it was his intention to run the ship upon the rocks, regardless of his own life and also the lives of his crew and passengers, in order to get the insurance, as she was insured for double her real value. Putting a man on the lookout, I went aft again and told the captain we should be on the rocks in a few moments, if the ship was not hauled to the eastward. He forced a smile, and attempted to laugh me out of the idea I held with respect to our situation. I told him it was his privilege to laugh if he chose, but it would be no laughing affair for the crew and passengers to go on the rocks, as we certainly should, unless we stood to the eastward.At that moment, he seeing a little light on our starboard bow, exclaimed:"All right! Port Patrick light; we must haul to the westward!"Seeing it was a revolving one, I knew it to be the South Rock light, and told him she would strike in fifteen minutes. In a moment I saw the little harbor lights called St. Johns light, on our larboard bow, situated at the entrance of Port-au-Ferry Lough. I ranforward, and could see through the fog, which was breaking up a little, land and breakers right ahead.—Upon my own responsibility I immediately ordered the yards to be braced up and the helm put hard to port.The ship came to and ranging ahead, in a moment would have cleared the point, had not a heavy sea struck her starboard bow and deadened her headway; her keel struck upon the rock, the sails caught aback, and swung her bows around upon her keel with great force.She rested with each end on a reef, and as the tide left her, she careened and twirled over, thus giving the surf still greater effect upon her. At this unfavorable moment the captain ordered the sails to be clewed up. I knowing the great danger that would arise from it, told the men to look out for themselves first. I had hardly ceased speaking when a sea washed over her decks, sweeping upwards of twenty of the crew into the sea!Those that were aft—seven of us—were saved. The screams of the passengers, who were all fast below, were beyond conception. They were set on deck to act for themselves.Daylight came, and we were seen from the shore, (we went upon the rock about two o'clock, having been there a little over two hours,) but they dare not attempt our rescue, as the sea ran very high. Twenty-three of the bodies of those lost were seen washing about, and beating against the ship's side.Again a heavy sea struck her, and carried away the boats from the fore part of the poop, with all my articles of value, except a few instruments of navigation; and I almost cursed the day I went aboard the Ashburton.But when I saw the mangled, headless bodies of the sailors beating about against the rocks, my loss sank into insignificance.We had stowed in the half deck some salt hams, which had not been disturbed: our bread had been saturated with salt water, yet we devoured it like half-famished wolves.Thus we lay for seven days, almost momentarily expecting death, and yet within half a mile of the shore. On the eighth day a boat came from the shore, and when within hail was capsized, and one of the noble crew found a watery grave.The ninth day a boat succeeded in getting to us, and took away the passengers, captain, boatswain, and steward, leaving the rest of us to spend yet another dreary night upon the rocks.The next day the insurance agents, one from Belfast and the other from Port-au-Ferry, came out to us, with the captain. They wished us to stay and take charge of the wreck until further orders. offering us good wages, but this was far from being a pleasant berth. We however concluded to stay, and busied ourselves collecting the goods that might remain on the wreck, also all the bolts and other articles from the ship worth saving. A boat was sent off from shore to collect the bodies of those that were drowned, who still lay beating about the rocks and in holes on the reef, where they had been deposited by the water.At the expiration of seventeen days, I received a letter from the captain, ordering us all to proceed to Port-au-Ferry immediately. On our arrival, we found the captain with the insurance agents, who wished to know my charges for the services rendered. I told them twodollars per day from the time of our sailing from Liverpool. To this they objected, and offered me one dollar and fifty cents per day. I told them I should have two dollars or nothing, and if I was not paid in six hours, I would place a seizure upon the wreck. The captain offered to pay me when I arrived at Belfast, and thither he proceeded with me. On going to the office, I was asked to sign the protest; to this I objected, saying I wished to get my money first. The captain then tried to intimidate me, by saying it was a mate's duty to do it.I then offered him his choice between paying me and an exposure of the facts respecting the wreck. Immediately he chose to pay me the two dollars I asked, rather than suffer me to make public the circumstances connected with that which he well knew would throw him out of the insurance. That I ought to have done, for he fully deserved it, by suffering the ship to go on the rocks, at the sacrifice of so many lives, in order that he might sell his vessel at an exorbitantly large price; thereby adding to the crime of murder that of robbery!I received my pay, signed the protest, and left the office, to search for an opportunity to work my passage to St. Johns.Falling in with the captain of the Sir Henry Pottinger, with whom I was previously acquainted, I obtained the berth of chief mate.We sailed from Belfast on the 13th of August, 1844; rounded the Copeland light, and, the wind being northerly, stood down the channel; we passed the South Rock light, and came to the reef on which the Ashburton struck; and as I passed the place, I almost fancied I could hear those screeches still ringing in my ears, asthey rang that night loud above the angry roarings of the surf.With my glass I looked upon the sad scene till we rounded the St. Johns point, which shut it out from our sight.Two men more than the complement were found, when the hands were called to set the watch. They, on being questioned, said they were deserters from the army, and wished to go to America; therefore they had adopted this way for accomplishing their purpose. The captain long questioned in his mind whether to proceed with them or leave them on shore, and asked my advice. Supposing myself in their situation for one moment, I decided in their favor. But this did not save them, for the captain could not think himself doing right in taking them away, notwithstanding his strong desire to assist them, and he resolved to put them on shore.When abreast Dublin Bay, we hauled our wind and stood in shore, and when within three or four miles of the shore, the boats were cleared away, and the captain ordered me to put them ashore. To this they stoutly objected, declaring they would not go alive. One of them was put into the boat by force; the other finding resistance useless, went quietly into the boat, and both were put on shore.Their entreaties to be taken again to the ship and suffered to go to America, brought tears to the eyes of the hardy sailors, and for a moment they paused almost persuaded to take them back again. Hurriedly we took our departure, leaving them standing on the point of rock on which they were first landed, where they remained as long as we were in sight.Arriving at the ship, we braced full and stood downthe channel. Nothing unusual occurred on the passage, which was completed by the middle of September.I had now been gone about thirteen months, and was no better off than when I left home, having lost my year's hard-earned money through the miserable conduct of Captain Poole of the Ashburton.The urgent necessities which were placed upon me, required my utmost exertions. In company with another person, I bought a small vessel of fifteen tons, and sailed for Eastport. Here we purchased a quantity of tobacco, cigars, gin, and tea, to the amount of $250, intending to smuggle it into St. Johns. This proved a successful enterprise, and we cleared fifty per cent.—Stimulated by this happy result, we again proceeded to Eastport, and purchased a still larger quantity than before, with which we succeeded finely until we reached Partridge Island, where we were becalmed; the fog came up from the southeast so heavy, that we could see only a little distance; night also setting in, rendered our situation drear indeed.About midnight, we heard oars pulling towards us very easy. Fearing they were custom-house officers, we lowered our sails, to avoid detection if possible.—They hailed us and inquired our business? We told them we were fishermen. Choosing to be more certain, they examined our cargo, and then took us in tow to St. Johns.The next day our boat and goods were sold. We attended the auction, and bid the boat back again. We then rigged her entirely new, resolving to try our luck again.We purchased our cargo, and started for St. Johns about 10 o'clock in the morning, in order to reach homeabout midnight; we landed our goods in a large hole in the rocks in an unfrequented place, and stood off with the boat. We went on shore in order to get a team. On our return, we found three custom-house officers guarding our goods! This proved an entire overthrow to our hopes and prospects. Stripped of all our little property, we were left with no alternative but to try the sea again.I accordingly looked about for an opportunity. Soon I was offered the command of a new bark, then in the stocks, which would soon be ready for sea. The vessel lay one hundred miles up the coast. I was also to take charge of her outfits.The day previous to my departure, I received a letter (through the owner of the ship Duncan, in which I had previously sailed,) from my brother-in-law, giving me an account of the situation of the family. This was the first line I had received from home since I left. He was extremely anxious that I should return. I went to the ship and commenced my labors, which I continued only three weeks.I returned to St. Johns and fitted out for home, where I arrived about the last of November, 1844, having been absent fourteen years and a few months. Those long years of hardship had so altered the boy of sixteen summers, (as I was when they last saw me,) that none scarcely knew me.In a few days it was my privilege to fill that place at the Thanksgiving dinner-table which had so long been vacated by me. In a few days my family followed me. For a length of time I was in the employ of the Dwight Manufacturing Company at Cabotville: at thepresent time I am employed by the Western Railroad Company, and stationed at Springfield.Thus I draw my simple narrative to a close. It is the author's desire that, while his simply-told tale serves to pass away an hour, it will contribute something to the interest as well as to the amusement of the reader.THE END.

Command a Vessel. Sail for London. Come near going on the Goodwin Sands. Anchor at London. Sail for Mobile. Serious affair with the Seamen. Spirits discharged from the Ship. A Fortune-Teller. Sail for Liverpool. Sail as mate of the Ashburton. A Storm. Run upon the Rocks. Perilous Situation. Proceed to St. Johns, and go smuggling. Are taken, and ship sold. News from home. Go thither, and unknown. Conclusion.

Again on the first of August, 1843, I left St. Johns as commander of the Solway Frith, bound for London, with a crew of twenty-one all told. The owner, (Mr. W—— and wife,) were aboard. Proceeded down the bay of Fundy, very finely indeed; had nothing to mar our happiness, until we were in the chops of the channel. A fine breeze wafted us in the space of forty-eight hours into the Downs, where we came to anchor among threehundred sail from all quarters of the globe. About sunset, one night, the wind freshened a little, and hauled around into the westward, increasing each moment in fury. Some of the ships parted from their anchors, others cut away their masts, and rigging, to prevent if possible their severing the cable, and falling back upon the sands; while some would slip their cable, and run for the north sea. At ten o'clock the gale had attained that height, I thought it best to lower the top-gallant yards and masts; and while in the act, the anchor started, and we ran stern-foremost towards the sands with the greatest rapidity. All were filled with the greatest terror. Knowing there was no time to be lost, I threw out the best bower, and payed out ninety fathom of cable, then the small bower with seventy fathoms. The desired effect was produced; the ship was stopped in her course. Our windlass was nearly cut off by the wearing of the chains. Life-boats were every where bounding upon the wave like feathers, while the ships were plunging and tossing madly about. By four, the next morning, all of our top-gallant masts and yards were upon deck; thus we lay until the day following, when Mr. W—— and lady took the life-boat, and went on shore, and thence to London by land.

By the recommendation of the pilot, I chartered the steamer Lion to tow us to London. She towed us as far as the—— light on the roadstead of Sheerness, where we lay in wait for a tide, when she again towed us to the——, where we lightened her of her deck load, and of part of that in the hold, and moored to the East County dock, where the remainder of our cargo was discharged.

We then hauled into a dry dock, in order to find ourleakage if possible. It was supposed, as this was the first voyage of the Solway Frith, some bolt-hole was left unstopped through mistake, which had also escaped the caulker's notice, which was, on examination, found to be the case.

The ship being caulked, we hauled to the Timass Buoys to await orders. Here we remained but a few days, when Mr. W—— came on board, and ordered me to get ready for Mobile, Alabama, U. S. A.

I immediately got my stores and ballast ready. Took on a pilot, and sailed for Mobile, Oct. 7th, 1843. Ran down the shore, and arrived at the Downs with a double-reefed top-sail breeze. Discharged our pilot at Deal, and stood down the channel.

On the third day took our departure from the Lizard light bearing North.

The day following, unbent cables, stowed anchor, and shaped our course for Mana Isle; had a stiff breeze till we struck the trade winds, when we found it light. Setting studding-sails alow and aloft, made all possible sail, and were enabled, after eighteen days' sail, to reach Mana; found a mistake of twenty miles in my reckoning; as it happened, however, all was well.

Ran through the Mana passage, and made the Island of Hayti or St. Domingo.

At about dark, sighted the north end of Jamaica, and endeavored to run between that and St. Domingo. The breeze being so very light, I failed in the attempt, and ran to the leeward of Jamaica, and passed the great Command, a very difficult pass, without harm. The breeze began to freshen a little; we rounded the Cape Antonio, the southern point of Cuba, and hauled ourwind for Mobile, on a bowline, and made Massacre Island. A pilot seeing us; came for the ship, before I hoisted a signal; thinking to have a little sport on knowing our vessel to be a fast sailer, crowded all sail, and gained very much of him, he meanwhile urged his little boat along as fast as possible. Heaving to took him aboard, and bracing full, soon were at the entrance of the bay; had much difficulty in getting over the bar, which we struck three times without much damage.

Getting over the bar, we proceeded up Dog river, and came to in four fathoms of water. Mr. W—— went to town to attend to his business. I had the sails unbent, and stored in the sail-room.

The lighters came along side for the ballast. Finding stone for ballast very scarce indeed, I concluded to screen the stone from the sand, and reserve them for use while I discharged the sand. This being done, all hands under the charge of the mate went about fitting the ship sails, setting the rigging, &c. While this was going on, I was gunning, fishing, or any thing I chose to do. I procured game sufficient, or nearly so, for the ship's use. Much time I spent about the town.

Mobile is situated on the west side of the Mobile bay, in a position elevated above the overflow of the river. In 1700 it was founded by the Spanish, and came into the possession of the Americans in 1813, being at that time of but little note, since which time it has increased very much; yet diseases have hindered its rapid growth. It is now one of the greatest markets for cotton in the country.

Ships lying at Mobile are obliged to sight their anchors every few days, on account of the nature of the bottom, which is very soft indeed, otherwise theywould become so firmly imbedded in the mud, as to render all attempts to raise them fruitless. Many times the ship is hove directly over the anchor, the windlass manned, and the ship careened over very much, which is continually drawing upon the anchor; and, as she rights herself, is again drawn over; this continues till they are able to heave it to the cat-head by the windlass.

One day, while we lay at anchor, I went on shore, and, as usual, left the mate in charge; on my return, found the mate holding to different articles to keep himself from falling as he went across the deck. As I stood talking with him, one of the crew came reeling up, and dared him to fight, at the same time using the most abusive language. I remained silent a few moments, when I ordered him to his duty, and to be quiet. He flew at me in a perfect rage, offering me many insults, and attempted to strike me. Seeing four more of his drunken fellows coming towards me, I thought it about time to be doing something; dealt the first one a blow above his eyes, which threw him with force across a beef barrel, screaming loudly. This blow was so violent that my thumb was dislocated. The second received a blow which put him with his fellow. This also disabled my left hand.

The first one now came to the second attack; I met him with the toe of my boot under his chin, which laid him upon the deck where he was willing to remain. The other three soon came hurriedly forward to assist their comrades. Seizing an iron bolt, about two feet long, which was very fortunately near me, I laid them all upon the deck together. The steward took them to their berths, and dressed their wounds. One of them had his jaw broken, another his head badly hurt, andone of his ribs broken. The next morning Mr. W—— came on board, and learned the whole matter. I then discharged all the liquor from the ship, and suffered not a single drop on board after. In a few days three of the men went to their duty; the other two never did, being disabled for a long time. The cargo was sent on board, packed and stowed. We remained at Mobile four or five months before we could get a cargo.

It had been nearly a year since my friends had heard any intelligence of me whatever, and that only indirectly. They being extremely solicitous respecting me, laid their case before a traveling fortune-teller, who told them of my exact situation, and of the time I should return to them. This they had little faith in; for so long had I been gone, I was thought to be almost wholly estranged. The capability of those fortune-tellers, I have always and do still doubt; yet I solemnly assert that in this case it was told rightly.

We sailed from Mobile in March, bound for Liverpool. When abreast the Bermudas, we were met with a very heavy squall; for this we were tolerably well prepared, though very heavily laden.

The sea was very irregular and high; the ship labored very heavily indeed; besides this, our situation was rendered doubly fearful by the extreme darkness. Seldom, if ever, did I pass a worse night than this. There was one remarkable feature attending it: it was unaccompanied with lightning or thunder, which are so frequent in that season and climate. The magnificence of the phospheretic scenery was such that the most timid mariner would pause in his duty amid the warring of the elements, where danger beset him on every hand, to admire its sublimity.

The long wished for day at length arrived; and through the dense fog we could occasionally see traces of light, that, with rising of the barometer, were sure indications that the worst was over. Had the storm continued longer, or had the ship been more heavily laden with timber, or with any compact loading, causing a greater dead weight in her bottom, in consequence of which she would have rolled much quicker, and labored much more heavily, I fear all would have been lost.

About ten that day, we made sail to steady the ship, the sea being still very heavy.

At about two in the afternoon, we had a view of, I think, the largest water, or by some termed, air-spout, I ever saw. Nothing occurred until we reached soundings at the St. George's channel. Here Mrs. W—— presented her husband with a fine boy; when the fact was communicated to the crew, they hoisted the colors and fired a salute.

A stormy wind headed us several days; the channel was full of vessels of all nations waiting a passage up. A light breeze springing up, we set studding-sails, and soon made the Tuskar light. Rounding the rock, we shaped our course to Holyhead. A thick fog again setting in, and shutting out the land from sight, we were obliged to run the ship by reckoning. When abreast of Bardsey island, spoke a coaster, and found our reckoning right.

At night the fog cleared away. Made sail. Sighted Holyhead light on the coast of Wales; rounded the head at daylight; took on a pilot who soon ran us into Liverpool. When we docked ship, and discharged allhands. A few days after, the ship and cargo was sold upon the water. I was offered the command of her by the new owners, to make a voyage to Quebec; this I declined, not liking the voyage, though I regretted leaving the ship, for she was a beautiful sailor.

Wishing to go to St. Johns, I watched every opportunity to work my passage. This I could find no means of doing until some time in July, when I was offered the berth of chief mate on board the Ashburton, Capt. Poole, bound thither. The Ashburton was a splendid ship of 1009 tons register, built for either passengers or freight. All things ready, we left our moorings the 18th of July, with sixteen passengers, and cargo of dry goods, iron, &c. Proceeded down the Mersey, and stood across to the Irish shore, made the hill of Howth. The wind blowing a double reefed top-sail breeze from the southwest, and every moment freshening, we hauled up and stowed our main-sail; tacked and stood back to the English coast. Sighted the Calf-of-man at midnight. Finding we made no progress, and the wind still increasing, we close reefed the fore and mizzen top-sails, and double reefed the main top-sails. At three, the next day, the Captain thought best to square away, and stand northwest towards the North Channel; which course we ran about six hours, then hauled our wind N. N. E. till midnight, and stood N. N. W.

During this time I was below: coming on deck at half past twelve, found the Captain had been on deck all night.

On learning that, at nine o'clock, the Calf-of-man bore E. S. E. four leagues distant, and since that time we had been bearing northwest, I was fully persuaded all was not right, and went aft into the poop, where the Captain was walking with a thoughtful expression of countenance. The rain was at this time falling in torrents.

WRECK OF THE ASHBURTON ON THE COAST OF IRELAND.

WRECK OF THE ASHBURTON ON THE COAST OF IRELAND.

WRECK OF THE ASHBURTON ON THE COAST OF IRELAND.

I told the Captain we were close in upon the Irish shore. With a sneering laugh he replied, "We are far enough from Ireland, and we must still haul our course a little to the westward."

I turned away and went forward, biting my lips through indignation at his proceedings. Knowing him to be a skillful navigator, I immediately made up my mind that it was his intention to run the ship upon the rocks, regardless of his own life and also the lives of his crew and passengers, in order to get the insurance, as she was insured for double her real value. Putting a man on the lookout, I went aft again and told the captain we should be on the rocks in a few moments, if the ship was not hauled to the eastward. He forced a smile, and attempted to laugh me out of the idea I held with respect to our situation. I told him it was his privilege to laugh if he chose, but it would be no laughing affair for the crew and passengers to go on the rocks, as we certainly should, unless we stood to the eastward.

At that moment, he seeing a little light on our starboard bow, exclaimed:

"All right! Port Patrick light; we must haul to the westward!"

Seeing it was a revolving one, I knew it to be the South Rock light, and told him she would strike in fifteen minutes. In a moment I saw the little harbor lights called St. Johns light, on our larboard bow, situated at the entrance of Port-au-Ferry Lough. I ranforward, and could see through the fog, which was breaking up a little, land and breakers right ahead.—Upon my own responsibility I immediately ordered the yards to be braced up and the helm put hard to port.

The ship came to and ranging ahead, in a moment would have cleared the point, had not a heavy sea struck her starboard bow and deadened her headway; her keel struck upon the rock, the sails caught aback, and swung her bows around upon her keel with great force.

She rested with each end on a reef, and as the tide left her, she careened and twirled over, thus giving the surf still greater effect upon her. At this unfavorable moment the captain ordered the sails to be clewed up. I knowing the great danger that would arise from it, told the men to look out for themselves first. I had hardly ceased speaking when a sea washed over her decks, sweeping upwards of twenty of the crew into the sea!

Those that were aft—seven of us—were saved. The screams of the passengers, who were all fast below, were beyond conception. They were set on deck to act for themselves.

Daylight came, and we were seen from the shore, (we went upon the rock about two o'clock, having been there a little over two hours,) but they dare not attempt our rescue, as the sea ran very high. Twenty-three of the bodies of those lost were seen washing about, and beating against the ship's side.

Again a heavy sea struck her, and carried away the boats from the fore part of the poop, with all my articles of value, except a few instruments of navigation; and I almost cursed the day I went aboard the Ashburton.But when I saw the mangled, headless bodies of the sailors beating about against the rocks, my loss sank into insignificance.

We had stowed in the half deck some salt hams, which had not been disturbed: our bread had been saturated with salt water, yet we devoured it like half-famished wolves.

Thus we lay for seven days, almost momentarily expecting death, and yet within half a mile of the shore. On the eighth day a boat came from the shore, and when within hail was capsized, and one of the noble crew found a watery grave.

The ninth day a boat succeeded in getting to us, and took away the passengers, captain, boatswain, and steward, leaving the rest of us to spend yet another dreary night upon the rocks.

The next day the insurance agents, one from Belfast and the other from Port-au-Ferry, came out to us, with the captain. They wished us to stay and take charge of the wreck until further orders. offering us good wages, but this was far from being a pleasant berth. We however concluded to stay, and busied ourselves collecting the goods that might remain on the wreck, also all the bolts and other articles from the ship worth saving. A boat was sent off from shore to collect the bodies of those that were drowned, who still lay beating about the rocks and in holes on the reef, where they had been deposited by the water.

At the expiration of seventeen days, I received a letter from the captain, ordering us all to proceed to Port-au-Ferry immediately. On our arrival, we found the captain with the insurance agents, who wished to know my charges for the services rendered. I told them twodollars per day from the time of our sailing from Liverpool. To this they objected, and offered me one dollar and fifty cents per day. I told them I should have two dollars or nothing, and if I was not paid in six hours, I would place a seizure upon the wreck. The captain offered to pay me when I arrived at Belfast, and thither he proceeded with me. On going to the office, I was asked to sign the protest; to this I objected, saying I wished to get my money first. The captain then tried to intimidate me, by saying it was a mate's duty to do it.

I then offered him his choice between paying me and an exposure of the facts respecting the wreck. Immediately he chose to pay me the two dollars I asked, rather than suffer me to make public the circumstances connected with that which he well knew would throw him out of the insurance. That I ought to have done, for he fully deserved it, by suffering the ship to go on the rocks, at the sacrifice of so many lives, in order that he might sell his vessel at an exorbitantly large price; thereby adding to the crime of murder that of robbery!

I received my pay, signed the protest, and left the office, to search for an opportunity to work my passage to St. Johns.

Falling in with the captain of the Sir Henry Pottinger, with whom I was previously acquainted, I obtained the berth of chief mate.

We sailed from Belfast on the 13th of August, 1844; rounded the Copeland light, and, the wind being northerly, stood down the channel; we passed the South Rock light, and came to the reef on which the Ashburton struck; and as I passed the place, I almost fancied I could hear those screeches still ringing in my ears, asthey rang that night loud above the angry roarings of the surf.

With my glass I looked upon the sad scene till we rounded the St. Johns point, which shut it out from our sight.

Two men more than the complement were found, when the hands were called to set the watch. They, on being questioned, said they were deserters from the army, and wished to go to America; therefore they had adopted this way for accomplishing their purpose. The captain long questioned in his mind whether to proceed with them or leave them on shore, and asked my advice. Supposing myself in their situation for one moment, I decided in their favor. But this did not save them, for the captain could not think himself doing right in taking them away, notwithstanding his strong desire to assist them, and he resolved to put them on shore.

When abreast Dublin Bay, we hauled our wind and stood in shore, and when within three or four miles of the shore, the boats were cleared away, and the captain ordered me to put them ashore. To this they stoutly objected, declaring they would not go alive. One of them was put into the boat by force; the other finding resistance useless, went quietly into the boat, and both were put on shore.

Their entreaties to be taken again to the ship and suffered to go to America, brought tears to the eyes of the hardy sailors, and for a moment they paused almost persuaded to take them back again. Hurriedly we took our departure, leaving them standing on the point of rock on which they were first landed, where they remained as long as we were in sight.

Arriving at the ship, we braced full and stood downthe channel. Nothing unusual occurred on the passage, which was completed by the middle of September.

I had now been gone about thirteen months, and was no better off than when I left home, having lost my year's hard-earned money through the miserable conduct of Captain Poole of the Ashburton.

The urgent necessities which were placed upon me, required my utmost exertions. In company with another person, I bought a small vessel of fifteen tons, and sailed for Eastport. Here we purchased a quantity of tobacco, cigars, gin, and tea, to the amount of $250, intending to smuggle it into St. Johns. This proved a successful enterprise, and we cleared fifty per cent.—Stimulated by this happy result, we again proceeded to Eastport, and purchased a still larger quantity than before, with which we succeeded finely until we reached Partridge Island, where we were becalmed; the fog came up from the southeast so heavy, that we could see only a little distance; night also setting in, rendered our situation drear indeed.

About midnight, we heard oars pulling towards us very easy. Fearing they were custom-house officers, we lowered our sails, to avoid detection if possible.—They hailed us and inquired our business? We told them we were fishermen. Choosing to be more certain, they examined our cargo, and then took us in tow to St. Johns.

The next day our boat and goods were sold. We attended the auction, and bid the boat back again. We then rigged her entirely new, resolving to try our luck again.

We purchased our cargo, and started for St. Johns about 10 o'clock in the morning, in order to reach homeabout midnight; we landed our goods in a large hole in the rocks in an unfrequented place, and stood off with the boat. We went on shore in order to get a team. On our return, we found three custom-house officers guarding our goods! This proved an entire overthrow to our hopes and prospects. Stripped of all our little property, we were left with no alternative but to try the sea again.

I accordingly looked about for an opportunity. Soon I was offered the command of a new bark, then in the stocks, which would soon be ready for sea. The vessel lay one hundred miles up the coast. I was also to take charge of her outfits.

The day previous to my departure, I received a letter (through the owner of the ship Duncan, in which I had previously sailed,) from my brother-in-law, giving me an account of the situation of the family. This was the first line I had received from home since I left. He was extremely anxious that I should return. I went to the ship and commenced my labors, which I continued only three weeks.

I returned to St. Johns and fitted out for home, where I arrived about the last of November, 1844, having been absent fourteen years and a few months. Those long years of hardship had so altered the boy of sixteen summers, (as I was when they last saw me,) that none scarcely knew me.

In a few days it was my privilege to fill that place at the Thanksgiving dinner-table which had so long been vacated by me. In a few days my family followed me. For a length of time I was in the employ of the Dwight Manufacturing Company at Cabotville: at thepresent time I am employed by the Western Railroad Company, and stationed at Springfield.

Thus I draw my simple narrative to a close. It is the author's desire that, while his simply-told tale serves to pass away an hour, it will contribute something to the interest as well as to the amusement of the reader.

THE END.

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