<p>In the afternoon the lady of the above-mentioned mansion called at our
inn, and left her compliments to us with Mrs. Francis, with an assurance
that while we continued wind-bound in that place, where she feared we
could be but indifferently accommodated, we were extremely welcome to the
use of anything which her garden or her house afforded. So polite a
message convinced us, in spite of some arguments to the contrary, that we
were not on the coast of Africa, or on some island where the few savage
inhabitants have little of human in them besides their form. And here I
mean nothing less than to derogate from the merit of this lady, who is not
only extremely polite in her behavior to strangers of her own rank, but so
extremely good and charitable to all her poor neighbors who stand in need
of her assistance, that she hath the universal love and praises of all who
live near her. But, in reality, how little doth the acquisition of so
valuable a character, and the full indulgence of so worthy a disposition,
cost those who possess it! Both are accomplished by the very offals which
fall from a table moderately plentiful. That they are enjoyed therefore by
so few arises truly from there being so few who have any such disposition
to gratify, or who aim at any such character.</p>
<p>Wednesday, July 22.—This morning, after having been mulcted as
usual, we dispatched a servant with proper acknowledgments of the lady's
goodness; but confined our wants entirely to the productions of her
garden. He soon returned, in company with the gardener, both richly laden
with almost every particular which a garden at this most fruitful season
of the year produces. While we were regaling ourselves with these, towards
the close of our dinner, we received orders from our commander, who had
dined that day with some inferior officers on board a man-of-war, to
return instantly to the ship; for that the wind was become favorable and
he should weigh that evening. These orders were soon followed by the
captain himself, who was still in the utmost hurry, though the occasion of
it had long since ceased; for the wind had, indeed, a little shifted that
afternoon, but was before this very quietly set down in its old quarters.</p>
<p>This last was a lucky hit for me; for, as the captain, to whose orders we
resolved to pay no obedience, unless delivered by himself, did not return
till past six, so much time seemed requisite to put up the furniture of
our bed-chamber or dining-room, for almost every article, even to some of
the chairs, were either our own or the captain's property; so much more in
conveying it as well as myself, as dead a luggage as any, to the shore,
and thence to the ship, that the night threatened first to overtake us. A
terrible circumstance to me, in my decayed condition; especially as very
heavy showers of rain, attended with a high wind, continued to fall
incessantly; the being carried through which two miles in the dark, in a
wet and open boat, seemed little less than certain death. However, as my
commander was absolute, his orders peremptory, and my obedience necessary,
I resolved to avail myself of a philosophy which hath been of notable use
to me in the latter part of my life, and which is contained in this
hemistich of Virgil:—</p>
<p>——Superanda omnis fortuna ferendo est.<br/></p>
<p>The meaning of which, if Virgil had any, I think I rightly understood, and
rightly applied. As I was therefore to be entirely passive in my motion, I
resolved to abandon myself to the conduct of those who were to carry me
into a cart when it returned from unloading the goods.</p>
<p>But before this, the captain, perceiving what had happened in the clouds,
and that the wind remained as much his enemy as ever, came upstairs to me
with a reprieve till the morning. This was, I own, very agreeable news,
and I little regretted the trouble of refurnishing my apartment, by
sending back for the goods.</p>
<p>Mrs. Francis was not well pleased with this.</p>
<p>As she understood the reprieve to be only till the morning, she saw
nothing but lodging to be possibly added, out of which she was to deduct
fire and candle, and the remainder, she thought, would scarce pay her for
her trouble. She exerted therefore all the ill-humor of which she was
mistress, and did all she could to thwart and perplex everything during
the whole evening.</p>
<p>Thursday, July 23.—Early in the morning the captain, who had
remained on shore all night, came to visit us, and to press us to make
haste on board. "I am resolved," says he, "not to lose a moment now the
wind is coming about fair: for my own part, I never was surer of a wind in
all my life." I use his very words; nor will I presume to interpret or
comment upon them farther than by observing that they were spoke in the
utmost hurry.</p>
<p>We promised to be ready as soon as breakfast was over, but this was not so
soon as was expected; for, in removing our goods the evening before, the
tea-chest was unhappily lost. Every place was immediately searched, and
many where it was impossible for it to be; for this was a loss of much
greater consequence than it may at first seem to many of my readers.
Ladies and valetudinarians do not easily dispense with the use of this
sovereign cordial in a single instance; but to undertake a long voyage,
without any probability of being supplied with it the whole way, was above
the reach of patience. And yet, dreadful as this calamity was, it seemed
unavoidable. The whole town of Ryde could not supply a single leaf; for,
as to what Mrs. Francis and the shop called by that name, it was not of
Chinese growth. It did not indeed in the least resemble tea, either in
smell or taste, or in any particular, unless in being a leaf; for it was
in truth no other than a tobacco of the mundungus species. And as for the
hopes of relief in any other port, they were not to be depended upon, for
the captain had positively declared he was sure of a wind, and would let
go his anchor no more till he arrived in the Tajo.</p>
<p>When a good deal of time had been spent, most of it indeed wasted on this
occasion, a thought occurred which every one wondered at its not having
presented itself the first moment. This was to apply to the good lady, who
could not fail of pitying and relieving such distress. A messenger was
immediately despatched with an account of our misfortune, till whose
return we employed ourselves in preparatives for our departure, that we
might have nothing to do but to swallow our breakfast when it arrived. The
tea-chest, though of no less consequence to us than the military-chest to
a general, was given up as lost, or rather as stolen, for though I would
not, for the world, mention any particular name, it is certain we had
suspicions, and all, I am afraid, fell on the same person.</p>
<p>The man returned from the worthy lady with much expedition, and brought
with him a canister of tea, despatched with so true a generosity, as well
as politeness, that if our voyage had been as long again we should have
incurred no danger of being brought to a short allowance in this most
important article. At the very same instant likewise arrived William the
footman with our own tea-chest. It had been, indeed, left in the hoy, when
the other goods were re-landed, as William, when he first heard it was
missing, had suspected; and whence, had not the owner of the hoy been
unluckily out of the way, he had retrieved it soon enough to have
prevented our giving the lady an opportunity of displaying some part of
her goodness. To search the hoy was, indeed, too natural a suggestion to
have escaped any one, nor did it escape being mentioned by many of us; but
we were dissuaded from it by my wife's maid, who perfectly well remembered
she had left the chest in the bed-chamber; for that she had never given it
out of her hand in her way to or from the hoy; but William perhaps knew
the maid better, and best understood how far she was to be believed; for
otherwise he would hardly of his own accord, after hearing her
declaration, have hunted out the hoy-man, with much pains and difficulty.
Thus ended this scene, which began with such appearance of distress, and
ended with becoming the subject of mirth and laughter. Nothing now
remained but to pay our taxes, which were indeed laid with inconceivable
severity. Lodging was raised sixpence, fire in the same proportion, and
even candles, which had hitherto escaped, were charged with a wantonness
of imposition, from the beginning, and placed under the style of
oversight. We were raised a whole pound, whereas we had only burned ten,
in five nights, and the pound consisted of twenty-four.</p>
<p>Lastly, an attempt was made which almost as far exceeds human credulity to
believe as it did human patience to submit to. This was to make us pay as
much for existing an hour or two as for existing a whole day; and dressing
dinner was introduced as an article, though we left the house before
either pot or spit had approached the fire. Here I own my patience failed
me, and I became an example of the truth of the observation, "That all
tyranny and oppression may be carried too far, and that a yoke may be made
too intolerable for the neck of the tamest slave." When I remonstrated,
with some warmth, against this grievance, Mrs. Francis gave me a look, and
left the room without making any answer. She returned in a minute, running
to me with pen, ink, and paper, in her hand, and desired me to make my own
bill; "for she hoped," she said "I did not expect that her house was to be
dirtied, and her goods spoiled and consumed for nothing. The whole is but
thirteen shillings. Can gentlefolks lie a whole night at a public-house
for less? If they can I am sure it is time to give off being a landlady:
but pay me what you please; I would have people know that I value money as
little as other folks. But I was always a fool, as I says to my husband,
and never knows which side my bread is buttered of. And yet, to be sure,
your honor shall be my warning not to be bit so again. Some folks knows
better than other some how to make their bills. Candles! why yes, to be
sure; why should not travelers pay for candles? I am sure I pays for my
candles, and the chandler pays the king's majesty for them; and if he did
not I must, so as it comes to the same thing in the end. To be sure I am
out of sixteens at present, but these burn as white and as clear, though
not quite so large. I expects my chandler here soon, or I would send to
Portsmouth, if your honor was to stay any time longer. But when folks
stays only for a wind, you knows there can be no dependence on such!" Here
she put on a little slyness of aspect, and seemed willing to submit to
interruption. I interrupted her accordingly by throwing down half a
guinea, and declared I had no more English money, which was indeed true;
and, as she could not immediately change the thirty-six shilling pieces,
it put a final end to the dispute. Mrs. Francis soon left the room, and we
soon after left the house; nor would this good woman see us or wish us a
good voyage. I must not, however, quit this place, where we had been so
ill-treated, without doing it impartial justice, and recording what may,
with the strictest truth, be said in its favor.</p>
<p>First, then, as to its situation, it is, I think, most delightful, and in
the most pleasant spot in the whole island. It is true it wants the
advantage of that beautiful river which leads from Newport to Cowes; but
the prospect here extending to the sea, and taking in Portsmouth,
Spithead, and St. Helen's, would be more than a recompense for the loss of
the Thames itself, even in the most delightful part of Berkshire or
Buckinghamshire, though another Denham, or another Pope, should unite in
celebrating it. For my own part, I confess myself so entirely fond of a
sea prospect, that I think nothing on the land can equal it; and if it be
set off with shipping, I desire to borrow no ornament from the terra
firma. A fleet of ships is, in my opinion, the noblest object which the
art of man hath ever produced; and far beyond the power of those
architects who deal in brick, in stone, or in marble.</p>
<p>When the late Sir Robert Walpole, one of the best of men and of ministers,
used to equip us a yearly fleet at Spithead, his enemies of taste must
have allowed that he, at least, treated the nation with a fine sight for
their money. A much finer, indeed, than the same expense in an encampment
could have produced. For what indeed is the best idea which the prospect
of a number of huts can furnish to the mind, but of a number of men
forming themselves into a society before the art of building more
substantial houses was known? This, perhaps, would be agreeable enough;
but, in truth, there is a much worse idea ready to step in before it, and
that is of a body of cut-throats, the supports of tyranny, the invaders of
the just liberties and properties of mankind, the plunderers of the
industrious, the ravishers of the chaste, the murderers of the innocent,
and, in a word, the destroyers of the plenty, the peace, and the safety,
of their fellow-creatures.</p>
<p>And what, it may be said, are these men-of-war which seem so delightful an
object to our eyes? Are they not alike the support of tyranny and
oppression of innocence, carrying with them desolation and ruin wherever
their masters please to send them? This is indeed too true; and however
the ship of war may, in its bulk and equipment, exceed the honest
merchantman, I heartily wish there was no necessity for it; for, though I
must own the superior beauty of the object on one side, I am more pleased
with the superior excellence of the idea which I can raise in my mind on
the other, while I reflect on the art and industry of mankind engaged in
the daily improvements of commerce to the mutual benefit of all countries,
and to the establishment and happiness of social life. This pleasant
village is situated on a gentle ascent from the water, whence it affords
that charming prospect I have above described. Its soil is a gravel,
which, assisted with its declivity, preserves it always so dry that
immediately after the most violent rain a fine lady may walk without
wetting her silken shoes. The fertility of the place is apparent from its
extraordinary verdure, and it is so shaded with large and flourishing
elms, that its narrow lanes are a natural grove or walk, which, in the
regularity of its plantation, vies with the power of art, and in its
wanton exuberancy greatly exceeds it.</p>
<p>In a field in the ascent of this hill, about a quarter of a mile from the
sea, stands a neat little chapel. It is very small, but adequate to the
number of inhabitants; for the parish doth not seem to contain above
thirty houses.</p>
<p>At about two miles distant from this parish lives that polite and good
lady to whose kindness we were so much obliged. It is placed on a hill
whose bottom is washed by the sea, and which from its eminence at top,
commands a view of great part of the island as well as it does that of the
opposite shore. This house was formerly built by one Boyce, who, from a
blacksmith at Gosport, became possessed, by great success in smuggling, of
forty thousand pound. With part of this he purchased an estate here, and,
by chance probably, fixed on this spot for building a large house. Perhaps
the convenience of carrying on his business, to which it is so well
adapted, might dictate the situation to him. We can hardly, at least,
attribute it to the same taste with which he furnished his house, or at
least his library, by sending an order to a bookseller in London to pack
him up five hundred pounds' worth of his handsomest books. They tell here
several almost incredible stories of the ignorance, the folly, and the
pride, which this poor man and his wife discovered during the short
continuance of his prosperity; for he did not long escape the sharp eyes
of the revenue solicitors, and was, by extents from the court of
Exchequer, soon reduced below his original state to that of confinement in
the Fleet. All his effects were sold, and among the rest his books, by an
auction at Portsmouth, for a very small price; for the bookseller was now
discovered to have been perfectly a master of his trade, and, relying on
Mr. Boyce's finding little time to read, had sent him not only the most
lasting wares of his shop, but duplicates of the same, under different
titles.</p>
<p>His estate and house were purchased by a gentleman of these parts, whose
widow now enjoys them, and who hath improved them, particularly her
gardens, with so elegant a taste, that the painter who would assist his
imagination in the composition of a most exquisite landscape, or the poet
who would describe an earthly paradise, could nowhere furnish themselves
with a richer pattern.</p>
<p>We left this place about eleven in the morning, and were again conveyed,
with more sunshine than wind, aboard our ship.</p>
<p>Whence our captain had acquired his power of prophecy, when he promised us
and himself a prosperous wind, I will not determine; it is sufficient to
observe that he was a false prophet, and that the weathercocks continued
to point as before. He would not, however, so easily give up his skill in
prediction. He persevered in asserting that the wind was changed, and,
having weighed his anchor, fell down that afternoon to St. Helen's, which
was at about the distance of five miles; and whither his friend the tide,
in defiance of the wind, which was most manifestly against him, softly
wafted him in as many hours.</p>
<p>Here, about seven in the evening, before which time we could not procure
it, we sat down to regale ourselves with some roasted venison, which was
much better dressed than we imagined it would be, and an excellent cold
pasty which my wife had made at Ryde, and which we had reserved uncut to
eat on board our ship, whither we all cheerfully exulted in being returned
from the presence of Mrs. Francis, who, by the exact resemblance she bore
to a fury, seemed to have been with no great propriety settled in
paradise.</p>
<p>Friday, July 24.—As we passed by Spithead on the preceding evening
we saw the two regiments of soldiers who were just returned from Gibraltar
and Minorca; and this day a lieutenant belonging to one of them, who was
the captain's nephew, came to pay a visit to his uncle. He was what is
called by some a very pretty fellow; indeed, much too pretty a fellow at
his years; for he was turned of thirty-four, though his address and
conversation would have become him more before he had reached twenty. In
his conversation, it is true, there was something military enough, as it
consisted chiefly of oaths, and of the great actions and wise sayings of
Jack, and Will, and Tom of our regiment, a phrase eternally in his mouth;
and he seemed to conclude that it conveyed to all the officers such a
degree of public notoriety and importance that it entitled him like the
head of a profession, or a first minister, to be the subject of
conversation among those who had not the least personal acquaintance with
him. This did not much surprise me, as I have seen several examples of the
same; but the defects in his address, especially to the women, were so
great that they seemed absolutely inconsistent with the behavior of a
pretty fellow, much less of one in a red coat; and yet, besides having
been eleven years in the army, he had had, as his uncle informed me, an
education in France. This, I own, would have appeared to have been
absolutely thrown away had not his animal spirits, which were likewise
thrown away upon him in great abundance, borne the visible stamp of the
growth of that country. The character to which he had an indisputable
title was that of a merry fellow; so very merry was he that he laughed at
everything he said, and always before he spoke. Possibly, indeed, he often
laughed at what he did not utter, for every speech begun with a laugh,
though it did not always end with a jest. There was no great analogy
between the characters of the uncle and the nephew, and yet they seemed
entirely to agree in enjoying the honor which the red-coat did to his
family. This the uncle expressed with great pleasure in his countenance,
and seemed desirous of showing all present the honor which he had for his
nephew, who, on his side, was at some pains to convince us of his
concurring in this opinion, and at the same time of displaying the
contempt he had for the parts, as well as the occupation of his uncle,
which he seemed to think reflected some disgrace on himself, who was a
member of that profession which makes every man a gentleman. Not that I
would be understood to insinuate that the nephew endeavored to shake off
or disown his uncle, or indeed to keep him at any distance. On the
contrary, he treated him with the utmost familiarity, often calling him
Dick, and dear Dick, and old Dick, and frequently beginning an oration
with D—n me, Dick.</p>
<p>All this condescension on the part of the young man was received with
suitable marks of complaisance and obligation by the old one; especially
when it was attended with evidences of the same familiarity with general
officers and other persons of rank; one of whom, in particular, I know to
have the pride and insolence of the devil himself, and who, without some
strong bias of interest, is no more liable to converse familiarly with a
lieutenant than of being mistaken in his judgment of a fool; which was
not, perhaps, so certainly the case of the worthy lieutenant, who, in
declaring to us the qualifications which recommended men to his
countenance and conversation, as well as what effectually set a bar to all
hopes of that honor, exclaimed, "No, sir, by the d— I hate all fools—
No, d—n me, excuse me for that. That's a little too much, old Dick.
There are two or three officers of our regiment whom I know to be fools;
but d—n me if I am ever seen in their company. If a man hath a fool
of a relation, Dick, you know he can't help that, old boy." Such jokes as
these the old man not only tools in good part, but glibly gulped down the
whole narrative of his nephew; nor did he, I am convinced, in the least
doubt of our as readily swallowing the same. This made him so charmed with
the lieutenant, that it is probable we should have been pestered with him
the whole evening, had not the north wind, dearer to our sea-captain even
than this glory of his family, sprung suddenly up, and called aloud to him
to weigh his anchor. While this ceremony was performing, the sea-captain
ordered out his boat to row the land-captain to shore; not indeed on an
uninhabited island, but one which, in this part, looked but little better,
not presenting us the view of a single house. Indeed, our old friend, when
his boat returned on shore, perhaps being no longer able to stifle his
envy of the superiority of his nephew, told us with a smile that the young
man had a good five mile to walk before he could be accommodated with a
passage to Portsmouth.</p>
<p>It appeared now that the captain had been only mistaken in the date of his
prediction, by placing the event a day earlier than it happened; for the
wind which now arose was not only favorable but brisk, and was no sooner
in reach of our sails than it swept us away by the back of the Isle of
Wight, and, having in the night carried us by Christchurch and
Peveral-point, brought us the next noon, Saturday, July 25, oft the island
of Portland, so famous for the smallness and sweetness of its mutton, of
which a leg seldom weighs four pounds. We would have bought a sheep, but
our captain would not permit it; though he needed not have been in such a
hurry, for presently the wind, I will not positively assert in resentment
of his surliness, showed him a dog's trick, and slyly slipped back again
to his summer-house in the south-west.</p>
<p>The captain now grew outrageous, and, declaring open war with the wind,
took a resolution, rather more bold than wise, of sailing in defiance of
it, and in its teeth. He swore he would let go his anchor no more, but
would beat the sea while he had either yard or sail left. He accordingly
stood from the shore, and made so large a tack that before night, though
he seemed to advance but little on his way, he was got out of sight of
land.</p>
<p>Towards evening the wind began, in the captain's own language, and indeed
it freshened so much, that before ten it blew a perfect hurricane. The
captain having got, as he supposed, to a safe distance, tacked again
towards the English shore; and now the wind veered a point only in his
favor, and continued to blow with such violence, that the ship ran above
eight knots or miles an hour during this whole day and tempestuous night
till bed-time. I was obliged to betake myself once more to my solitude,
for my women were again all down in their sea-sickness, and the captain
was busy on deck; for he began to grow uneasy, chiefly, I believe, because
he did not well know where he was, and would, I am convinced, have been
very glad to have been in Portland-road, eating some sheep's-head broth.</p>
<p>Having contracted no great degree of good-humor by living a whole day
alone, without a single soul to converse with, I took but ill physic to
purge it off, by a bed-conversation with the captain, who, amongst many
bitter lamentations of his fate, and protesting he had more patience than
a Job, frequently intermixed summons to the commanding officer on the
deck, who now happened to be one Morrison, a carpenter, the only fellow
that had either common sense or common civility in the ship. Of Morrison
he inquired every quarter of an hour concerning the state of affairs: the
wind, the care of the ship, and other matters of navigation. The frequency
of these summons, as well as the solicitude with which they were made,
sufficiently testified the state of the captain's mind; he endeavored to
conceal it, and would have given no small alarm to a man who had either
not learned what it is to die, or known what it is to be miserable. And my
dear wife and child must pardon me, if what I did not conceive to be any
great evil to myself I was not much terrified with the thoughts of
happening to them; in truth, I have often thought they are both too good
and too gentle to be trusted to the power of any man I know, to whom they
could possibly be so trusted.</p>
<p>Can I say then I had no fear? indeed I cannot. Reader, I was afraid for
thee, lest thou shouldst have been deprived of that pleasure thou art now
enjoying; and that I should not live to draw out on paper that military
character which thou didst peruse in the journal of yesterday.</p>
<p>From all these fears we were relieved, at six in the morning, by the
arrival of Mr. Morrison, who acquainted us that he was sure he beheld land
very near; for he could not see half a mile, by reason of the haziness of
the weather. This land he said was, he believed, the Berry-head, which
forms one side of Torbay: the captain declared that it was impossible, and
swore, on condition he was right, he would give him his mother for a maid.
A forfeit which became afterwards strictly due and payable; for the
captain, whipping on his night-gown, ran up without his breeches, and
within half an hour returning into the cabin, wished me joy of our lying
safe at anchor in the bay.</p>
<p>Sunday, July 26.—Things now began to put on an aspect very different
from what they had lately worn; the news that the ship had almost lost its
mizzen, and that we had procured very fine clouted cream and fresh bread
and butter from the shore, restored health and spirits to our women, and
we all sat down to a very cheerful breakfast. But, however pleasant our
stay promised to be here, we were all desirous it should be short: I
resolved immediately to despatch my man into the country to purchase a
present of cider, for my friends of that which is called Southam, as well
as to take with me a hogshead of it to Lisbon; for it is, in my opinion,
much more delicious than that which is the growth of Herefordshire. I
purchased three hogsheads for five pounds ten shillings, all which I
should have scarce thought worth mentioning, had I not believed it might
be of equal service to the honest farmer who sold it me, and who is by the
neighboring gentlemen reputed to deal in the very best; and to the reader,
who, from ignorance of the means of providing better for himself, swallows
at a dearer rate the juice of Middlesex turnip, instead of that Vinum
Pomonae which Mr. Giles Leverance of Cheeshurst, near Dartmouth in Devon,
will, at the price of forty shillings per hogshead, send in double casks
to any part of the world. Had the wind been very sudden in shifting, I had
lost my cider by an attempt of a boatman to exact, according to custom. He
required five shillings for conveying my man a mile and a half to the
shore, and four more if he stayed to bring him back. This I thought to be
such insufferable impudence that I ordered him to be immediately chased
from the ship, without any answer. Indeed, there are few inconveniences
that I would not rather encounter than encourage the insolent demands of
these wretches, at the expense of my own indignation, of which I own they
are not the only objects, but rather those who purchase a paltry
convenience by encouraging them. But of this I have already spoken very
largely. I shall conclude, therefore, with the leave which this fellow
took of our ship; saying he should know it again, and would not put off
from the shore to relieve it in any distress whatever. It will, doubtless,
surprise many of my readers to hear that, when we lay at anchor within a
mile or two of a town several days together, and even in the most
temperate weather, we should frequently want fresh provisions and herbage,
and other emoluments of the shore, as much as if we had been a hundred
leagues from land. And this too while numbers of boats were in our sight,
whose owners get their livelihood by rowing people up and down, and could
be at any time summoned by a signal to our assistance, and while the
captain had a little boat of his own, with men always ready to row it at
his command.</p>
<p>This, however, hath been partly accounted for already by the imposing
disposition of the people, who asked so much more than the proper price of
their labor. And as to the usefulness of the captain's boat, it requires
to be a little expatiated upon, as it will tend to lay open some of the
grievances which demand the utmost regard of our legislature, as they
affect the most valuable part of the king's subjects—those by whom
the commerce of the nation is carried into execution. Our captain then,
who was a very good and experienced seaman, having been above thirty years
the master of a vessel, part of which he had served, so he phrased it, as
commander of a privateer, and had discharged himself with great courage
and conduct, and with as great success, discovered the utmost aversion to
the sending his boat ashore whenever we lay wind-bound in any of our
harbors. This aversion did not arise from any fear of wearing out his boat
by using it, but was, in truth, the result of experience, that it was
easier to send his men on shore than to recall them. They acknowledged him
to be their master while they remained on shipboard, but did not allow his
power to extend to the shores, where they had no sooner set their foot
than every man became sui juris, and thought himself at full liberty to
return when he pleased. Now it is not any delight that these fellows have
in the fresh air or verdant fields on the land. Every one of them would
prefer his ship and his hammock to all the sweets of Arabia the Happy;
but, unluckily for them, there are in every seaport in England certain
houses whose chief livelihood depends on providing entertainment for the
gentlemen of the jacket. For this purpose they are always well furnished
with those cordial liquors which do immediately inspire the heart with
gladness, banishing all careful thoughts, and indeed all others, from the
mind, and opening the mouth with songs of cheerfulness and thanksgiving
for the many wonderful blessings with which a seafaring life overflows.</p>
<p>For my own part, however whimsical it may appear, I confess I have thought
the strange story of Circe in the Odyssey no other than an ingenious
allegory, in which Homer intended to convey to his countrymen the same
kind of instruction which we intend to communicate to our own in this
digression. As teaching the art of war to the Greeks was the plain design
of the Iliad, so was teaching them the art of navigation the no less
manifest intention of the Odyssey. For the improvement of this, their
situation was most excellently adapted; and accordingly we find
Thucydides, in the beginning of his history, considers the Greeks as a set
of pirates or privateers, plundering each other by sea. This being
probably the first institution of commerce before the Ars Cauponaria was
invented, and merchants, instead of robbing, began to cheat and outwit
each other, and by degrees changed the Metabletic, the only kind of
traffic allowed by Aristotle in his Politics, into the Chrematistic.</p>
<p>By this allegory then I suppose Ulysses to have been the captain of a
merchant-ship, and Circe some good ale-wife, who made his crew drunk with
the spirituous liquors of those days. With this the transformation into
swine, as well as all other incidents of the fable, will notably agree;
and thus a key will be found out for unlocking the whole mystery, and
forging at least some meaning to a story which, at present, appears very
strange and absurd.</p>
<p>Hence, moreover, will appear the very near resemblance between the
sea-faring men of all ages and nations; and here perhaps may be
established the truth and justice of that observation, which will occur
oftener than once in this voyage, that all human flesh is not the same
flesh, but that there is one kind of flesh of landmen, and another of
seamen.</p>
<p>Philosophers, divines, and others, who have treated the gratification of
human appetites with contempt, have, among other instances, insisted very
strongly on that satiety which is so apt to overtake them even in the very
act of enjoyment. And here they more particularly deserve our attention,
as most of them may be supposed to speak from their own experience, and
very probably gave us their lessons with a full stomach. Thus hunger and
thirst, whatever delight they may afford while we are eating and drinking,
pass both away from us with the plate and the cup; and though we should
imitate the Romans, if, indeed, they were such dull beasts, which I can
scarce believe, to unload the belly like a dung-pot, in order to fill it
again with another load, yet would the pleasure be so considerably
lessened that it would scarce repay us the trouble of purchasing it with
swallowing a basin of camomile tea. A second haunch of venison, or a
second dose of turtle, would hardly allure a city glutton with its smell.
Even the celebrated Jew himself, when well filled with calipash and
calipee, goes contentedly home to tell his money, and expects no more
pleasure from his throat during the next twenty-four hours. Hence I
suppose Dr. South took that elegant comparison of the joys of a
speculative man to the solemn silence of an Archimedes over a problem, and
those of a glutton to the stillness of a sow at her wash. A simile which,
if it became the pulpit at all, could only become it in the afternoon.
Whereas in those potations which the mind seems to enjoy, rather than the
bodily appetite, there is happily no such satiety; but the more a man
drinks, the more he desires; as if, like Mark Anthony in Dryden, his
appetite increased with feeding, and this to such an immoderate degree, ut
nullus sit desiderio aut pudor aut modus. Hence, as with the gang of
Captain Ulysses, ensues so total a transformation, that the man no more
continues what he was. Perhaps he ceases for a time to be at all; or,
though he may retain the same outward form and figure he had before, yet
is his nobler part, as we are taught to call it, so changed, that, instead
of being the same man, he scarce remembers what he was a few hours before.
And this transformation, being once obtained, is so easily preserved by
the same potations, which induced no satiety, that the captain in vain
sends or goes in quest of his crew. They know him no longer; or, if they
do, they acknowledge not his power, having indeed as entirely forgotten
themselves as if they had taken a large draught of the river of Lethe.</p>
<p>Nor is the captain always sure of even finding out the place to which
Circe hath conveyed them. There are many of those houses in every
port-town. Nay, there are some where the sorceress doth not trust only to
her drugs; but hath instruments of a different kind to execute her
purposes, by whose means the tar is effectually secreted from the
knowledge and pursuit of his captain. This would, indeed, be very fatal,
was it not for one circumstance; that the sailor is seldom provided with
the proper bait for these harpies. However, the contrary sometimes
happens, as these harpies will bite at almost anything, and will snap at a
pair of silver buttons, or buckles, as surely as at the specie itself.
Nay, sometimes they are so voracious, that the very naked hook will go
down, and the jolly young sailor is sacrificed for his own sake.</p>
<p>In vain, at such a season as this, would the vows of a pious heathen have
prevailed over Neptune, Aeolus, or any other marine deity. In vain would
the prayers of a Christian captain be attended with the like success. The
wind may change how it pleases while all hands are on shore; the anchor
would remain firm in the ground, and the ship would continue in durance,
unless, like other forcible prison-breakers, it forcibly got loose for no
good purpose. Now, as the favor of winds and courts, and such like, is
always to be laid hold on at the very first motion, for within twenty-four
hours all may be changed again; so, in the former case, the loss of a day
may be the loss of a voyage: for, though it may appear to persons not well
skilled in navigation, who see ships meet and sail by each other, that the
wind blows sometimes east and west, north and south, backwards and
forwards, at the same instant; yet, certain it is that the land is so
contrived, that even the same wind will not, like the same horse, always
bring a man to the end of his journey; but, that the gale which the
mariner prayed heartily for yesterday, he may as heartily deprecate
to-morrow; while all use and benefit which would have arisen to him from
the westerly wind of to-morrow may be totally lost and thrown away by
neglecting the offer of the easterly blast which blows to-day.</p>
<p>Hence ensues grief and disreputation to the innocent captain, loss and
disappointment to the worthy merchant, and not seldom great prejudice to
the trade of a nation whose manufactures are thus liable to lie unsold in
a foreign warehouse the market being forestalled by some rival whose
sailors are under a better discipline. To guard against these
inconveniences the prudent captain takes every precaution in his power; he
makes the strongest contracts with his crew, and thereby binds them so
firmly, that none but the greatest or least of men can break through them
with impunity; but for one of these two reasons, which I will not
determine, the sailor, like his brother fish the eel, is too slippery to
be held, and plunges into his element with perfect impunity. To speak a
plain truth, there is no trusting to any contract with one whom the wise
citizens of London call a bad man; for, with such a one, though your bond
be ever so strong, it will prove in the end good for nothing.</p>
<p>What then is to be done in this case? What, indeed, but to call in the
assistance of that tremendous magistrate, the justice of peace, who can,
and often doth, lay good and bad men in equal durance; and, though he
seldom cares to stretch his bonds to what is great, never finds anything
too minute for their detention, but will hold the smallest reptile alive
so fast in his noose, that he can never get out till he is let drop
through it. Why, therefore, upon the breach of those contracts, should not
an immediate application be made to the nearest magistrate of this order,
who should be empowered to convey the delinquent either to ship or to
prison, at the election of the captain, to be fettered by the leg in
either place? But, as the case now stands, the condition of this poor
captain without any commission, and of this absolute commander without any
power, is much worse than we have hitherto shown it to be; for,
notwithstanding all the aforesaid contracts to sail in the good ship the
Elizabeth, if the sailor should, for better wages, find it more his
interest to go on board the better ship the Mary, either before their
setting out or on their speedy meeting in some port, he may prefer the
latter without any other danger than that of "doing what he ought not to
have done," contrary to a rule which he is seldom Christian enough to have
much at heart, while the captain is generally too good a Christian to
punish a man out of revenge only, when he is to be at a considerable
expense for so doing. There are many other deficiencies in our laws
relating to maritime affairs, and which would probably have been long
since corrected, had we any seamen in the House of Commons. Not that I
would insinuate that the legislature wants a supply of many gentlemen in
the sea-service; but, as these gentlemen are by their attendance in the
house unfortunately prevented from ever going to sea, and there learning
what they might communicate to their landed brethren, these latter remain
as ignorant in that branch of knowledge as they would be if none but
courtiers and fox-hunters had been elected into parliament, without a
single fish among them. The following seems to me to be an effect of this
kind, and it strikes me the stronger as I remember the case to have
happened, and remember it to have been dispunishable. A captain of a
trading vessel, of which he was part owner, took in a large freight of
oats at Liverpool, consigned to the market at Bearkey: this he carried to
a port in Hampshire, and there sold it as his own, and, freighting his
vessel with wheat for the port of Cadiz, in Spain, dropped it at Oporto in
his way; and there, selling it for his own use, took in a lading of wine,
with which he sailed again, and, having converted it in the same manner,
together with a large sum of money with which he was intrusted, for the
benefit of certain merchants, sold the ship and cargo in another port, and
then wisely sat down contented with the fortune he had made, and returned
to London to enjoy the remainder of his days, with the fruits of his
former labors and a good conscience.</p>
<p>The sum he brought home with him consisted of near six thousand pounds,
all in specie, and most of it in that coin which Portugal distributes so
liberally over Europe.</p>
<p>He was not yet old enough to be past all sense of pleasure, nor so puffed
up with the pride of his good fortune as to overlook his old acquaintances
the journeymen tailors, from among whom he had been formerly pressed into
the sea-service, and, having there laid the foundation of his future
success by his shares in prizes, had afterwards become captain of a
trading vessel, in which he purchased an interest, and had soon begun to
trade in the honorable manner above mentioned. The captain now took up his
residence at an ale-house in Drury-lane, where, having all his money by
him in a trunk, he spent about five pounds a day among his old friends the
gentlemen and ladies of those parts. The merchant of Liverpool, having
luckily had notice from a friend during the blaze of his fortune, did, by
the assistance of a justice of peace, without the assistance of the law,
recover his whole loss. The captain, however, wisely chose to refund no
more; but, perceiving with what hasty strides Envy was pursuing his
fortune, he took speedy means to retire out of her reach, and to enjoy the
rest of his wealth in an inglorious obscurity; nor could the same justice
overtake him time enough to assist a second merchant as he had done the
first.</p>
<p>This was a very extraordinary case, and the more so as the ingenious
gentleman had steered entirely clear of all crimes in our law. Now, how it
comes about that a robbery so very easy to be committed, and to which
there is such immediate temptation always before the eyes of these
fellows, should receive the encouragement of impunity, is to be accounted
for only from the oversight of the legislature, as that oversight can only
be, I think, derived from the reasons I have assigned for it.</p>
<p>But I will dwell no longer on this subject. If what I have here said
should seem of sufficient consequence to engage the attention of any man
in power, and should thus be the means of applying any remedy to the most
inveterate evils, at least, I have obtained my whole desire, and shall
have lain so long wind-bound in the ports of this kingdom to some purpose.
I would, indeed, have this work—which, if I should live to finish
it, a matter of no great certainty, if indeed of any great hope to me,
will be probably the last I shall ever undertake—to produce some
better end than the mere diversion of the reader.</p>
<p>Monday.—This day our captain went ashore, to dine with a gentleman
who lives in these parts, and who so exactly resembles the character given
by Homer of Axylus, that the only difference I can trace between them is,
the one, living by the highway, erected his hospitality chiefly in favor
of land-travelers; and the other, living by the water-side, gratified his
humanity by accommodating the wants of the mariner.</p>
<p>In the evening our commander received a visit from a brother bashaw, who
lay wind-bound in the same harbor. This latter captain was a Swiss. He was
then master of a vessel bound to Guinea, and had formerly been a
privateering, when our own hero was employed in the same laudable service.
The honesty and freedom of the Switzer, his vivacity, in which he was in
no respect inferior to his near neighbors the French, the awkward and
affected politeness, which was likewise of French extraction, mixed with
the brutal roughness of the English tar—for he had served under the
colors of this nation and his crew had been of the same—made such an
odd variety, such a hotch-potch of character, that I should have been much
diverted with him, had not his voice, which was as loud as a
speaking-trumpet, unfortunately made my head ache. The noise which he
conveyed into the deaf ears of his brother captain, who sat on one side of
him, the soft addresses with which, mixed with awkward bows, he saluted
the ladies on the other, were so agreeably contrasted, that a man must not
only have been void of all taste of humor, and insensible of mirth, but
duller than Cibber is represented in the Dunciad, who could be
unentertained with him a little while; for, I confess, such entertainments
should always be very short, as they are very liable to pall. But he
suffered not this to happen at present; for, having given us his company a
quarter of an hour only, he retired, after many apologies for the
shortness of his visit.</p>
<p>Tuesday.—The wind being less boisterous than it had hitherto been
since our arrival here, several fishing-boats, which the tempestuous
weather yesterday had prevented from working, came on board us with fish.
This was so fresh, so good in kind, and so very cheap, that we supplied
ourselves in great numbers, among which were very large soles at fourpence
a pair, and whitings of almost a preposterous size at ninepence a score.
The only fish which bore any price was a john doree, as it is called. I
bought one of at least four pounds weight for as many shillings. It
resembles a turbot in shape, but exceeds it in firmness and flavor. The
price had the appearance of being considerable when opposed to the
extraordinary cheapness of others of value, but was, in truth, so very
reasonable when estimated by its goodness, that it left me under no other
surprise than how the gentlemen of this country, not greatly eminent for
the delicacy of their taste, had discovered the preference of the doree to
all other fish: but I was informed that Mr. Quin, whose distinguishing
tooth hath been so justly celebrated, had lately visited Plymouth, and had
done those honors to the doree which are so justly due to it from that
sect of modern philosophers who, with Sir Epicure Mammon, or Sir Epicure
Quin, their head, seem more to delight in a fish-pond than in a garden, as
the old Epicureans are said to have done.</p>
<p>Unfortunately for the fishmongers of London, the doree resides only in
those seas; for, could any of this company but convey one to the temple of
luxury under the Piazza, where Macklin the high-priest daily serves up his
rich offerings to that goddess, great would be the reward of that
fishmonger, in blessings poured down upon him from the goddess, as great
would his merit be towards the high-priest, who could never be thought to
overrate such valuable incense.</p>
<p>And here, having mentioned the extreme cheapness of fish in the Devonshire
sea, and given some little hint of the extreme dearness with which this
commodity is dispensed by those who deal in it in London, I cannot pass on
without throwing forth an observation or two, with the same view with
which I have scattered my several remarks through this voyage,
sufficiently satisfied in having finished my life, as I have probably lost
it, in the service of my country, from the best of motives, though it
should be attended with the worst of success. Means are always in our
power; ends are very seldom so.</p>
<p>Of all the animal foods with which man is furnished, there are none so
plenty as fish. A little rivulet, that glides almost unperceived through a
vast tract of rich land, will support more hundreds with the flesh of its
inhabitants than the meadow will nourish individuals. But if this be true
of rivers, it is much truer of the sea-shores, which abound with such
immense variety of fish that the curious fisherman, after he hath made his
draught, often culls only the daintiest part and leaves the rest of his
prey to perish on the shore. If this be true it would appear, I think,
that there is nothing which might be had in such abundance, and
consequently so cheap, as fish, of which Nature seems to have provided
such inexhaustible stores with some peculiar design. In the production of
terrestrial animals she proceeds with such slowness, that in the larger
kind a single female seldom produces more than one a-year, and this again
requires three, for, or five years more to bring it to perfection. And
though the lesser quadrupeds, those of the wild kind particularly, with
the birds, do multiply much faster, yet can none of these bear any
proportion with the aquatic animals, of whom every female matrix is
furnished with an annual offspring almost exceeding the power of numbers,
and which, in many instances at least, a single year is capable of
bringing to some degree of maturity.</p>
<p>What then ought in general to be so plentiful, what so cheap, as fish?
What then so properly the food of the poor? So in many places they are,
and so might they always be in great cities, which are always situated
near the sea, or on the conflux of large rivers. How comes it then, to
look no farther abroad for instances, that in our city of London the case
is so far otherwise that, except that of sprats, there is not one poor
palate in a hundred that knows the taste of fish?</p>
<p>It is true indeed that this taste is generally of such excellent flavor
that it exceeds the power of French cookery to treat the palates of the
rich with anything more exquisitely delicate; so that was fish the common
food of the poor it might put them too much upon an equality with their
betters in the great article of eating, in which, at present, in the
opinion of some, the great difference in happiness between man and man
consists. But this argument I shall treat with the utmost disdain: for if
ortolans were as big as buzzards, and at the same time as plenty as
sparrows, I should hold it yet reasonable to indulge the poor with the
dainty, and that for this cause especially, that the rich would soon find
a sparrow, if as scarce as an ortolan, to be much the greater, as it would
certainly be the rarer, dainty of the two.</p>
<p>Vanity or scarcity will be always the favorite of luxury; but honest
hunger will be satisfied with plenty. Not to search deeper into the cause
of the evil, I should think it abundantly sufficient to propose the
remedies of it. And, first, I humbly submit the absolute necessity of
immediately hanging all the fishmongers within the bills of mortality;
and, however it might have been some time ago the opinion of mild and
temporizing men that the evil complained of might be removed by gentler
methods, I suppose at this day there are none who do not see the
impossibility of using such with any effect. Cuncta prius tentanda might
have been formerly urged with some plausibility, but cuncta prius tentata
may now be replied: for surely, if a few monopolizing fishmongers could
defeat that excellent scheme of the Westminster market, to the erecting
which so many justices of peace, as well as other wise and learned men,
did so vehemently apply themselves, that they might be truly said not only
to have laid the whole strength of their heads, but of their shoulders
too, to the business, it would be a vain endeavor for any other body of
men to attempt to remove so stubborn a nuisance.</p>
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