Abbott Jacob
Rollo on the Atlantic
In fact, the passengers began to consider the voyage as ended. They all went to work packing up their trunks, adjusting their dress, changing their caps for hats, and making other preparations for the land.
As the time drew nigh for going on shore, Jennie began to feel some apprehension on the subject, inasmuch as, judging from all the formidable preparations which she saw going on around her, she inferred that landing in Liverpool from an Atlantic steamer must be a very different thing from going on shore at New York after a voyage down the Hudson. As for Rollo, his feelings were quite the reverse from Jennie's. He not only felt no solicitude on the subject, but he began to be quite ambitious of going ashore alone—that is, without any one to take charge of him.
"We shall get along, Jennie, very well indeed," said Rollo. "I asked one of the passengers about it. The custom-house officers will come and look into our trunks, to see if we have got any smuggled goods in them. They won't find any in ours, I can tell them. Then all I have got to do is, to ask one of the cabmen to take us in his cab, and carry us to a hotel."
"To what hotel?" asked Jennie.
"Why—I don't know," said Rollo, rather puzzled. "To the best hotel. I'll just tell him to the best hotel."
"Well," said Jennie, "and what then?"
"Well,—and then,"—said Rollo, looking a little perplexed again, and speaking rather doubtingly,—"then,—why, I suppose that father will send somebody there to find us."
Jennie was not convinced; but she had nothing more to say, and so she was silent.
Rollo's plan, however, of taking care of himself in the landing seemed not likely to be realized; for there were not less than three different arrangements made, on the evening of the arrival, for taking care of him. In the first place, his father and mother were at the Adelphi Hotel, in Liverpool, awaiting the arrival of the steamer, and intending to go on board as soon as the guns should announce her coming. In the second place, Mr. Chauncy, Maria's brother, said that they should go with him and Maria. He would take the children, he said, to a hotel, and then take immediate measures to find out where Mr. Holiday was. In the third place, the captain came to Rollo just after sunset, and made a similar proposal.
Rollo, not knowing any thing about his father's plan, accepted Mr. Chauncy's offer; and then, when the captain came, he thanked him for his kindness, but said that he was going with Mr. Chauncy and Maria.
"Then you will go in the night," said the captain; "for Mr. Chauncy is the bearer of despatches."
Rollo did not understand what the captain meant by this, though it was afterward explained to him. The explanation was this: Every steamer, besides the passengers, carries the mails. The mails, containing all the letters and papers that are passing between the two countries, are conveyed in a great number of canvas and leather bags, and sometimes in tin boxes; enough, often, to make several cartloads. Besides these mails, which contain the letters of private citizens, the government of the United States has always a bag full of letters and papers which are to be sent to the American minister in London, for his instruction. These letters and papers are called the government despatches. They are not sent with the mails, but are intrusted usually to some one of the passengers—a gentleman known to the government as faithful and trustworthy. This passenger is called the bearer of despatches.
Now, the steamers, when they arrive at Liverpool, cannot usually go directly up to the pier, because the water is not deep enough there, except at particular states of the tide. They accordingly have to anchor in the stream, at some distance from the shore. As soon as they anchor, whether it is by day or by night, a small steamer comes alongside to get the mails and the despatches; for they must be landed immediately, so as to proceed directly to London by the first train. The bearer of despatches, together with his family, or those whom he has directly under his charge, are, of course, allowed to go on shore in the small steamer with the despatch bag, but the rest of the passengers have to wait to have their trunks and baggage examined by the custom-house officers. If the vessel gets to Liverpool in the night, they have to wait until the next morning. This was what the captain meant by saying, that, if the children went on shore with Mr. Chauncy, they would go in the night; for he then expected to get to his anchoring ground so that the boat for the mails would come off to the ship at about half past twelve.
Accordingly, that evening, when bedtime came, Maria and the children did not go to bed, but they lay down upon the couches and in their berths, in their dayclothes, awaiting the summons which they expected to receive when the small steamer should come. In the mean time, the ship went on, sometimes going very slowly, and sometimes stopping altogether, in order to avoid a collision with some other vessel which was coming in her way. The night was foggy and dark, so that her progress, to be safe, was necessarily slow. At length, Maria and the children, tired of waiting and watching, all three fell asleep. They were, however, suddenly aroused from their slumbers about midnight by the chambermaid, who came into their state room and told them that Mr. Chauncy was ready.
They rose and hurried up on deck. Their trunks had been taken up before them. When they reached the deck, they found Mr. Chauncy there and the captain, and with them two or three rather rough-looking men, in shaggy coats, examining their trunks by the light of lanterns which they held in their hands. The examination was very slight. The men merely lifted up the things in the corners a little, and, finding that there appeared to be nothing but clothing in the trunks, they said, "All right!" and then shut them up again. All this time the steampipe of the little steamer alongside kept up such a deafening roar that it was almost impossible to hear what was said.
The way of descent to get down from the deck of the great steamer to the little one was very steep and intricate, and it seemed doubly so on account of the darkness and gloom of the night. In the first place, you had to climb up three or four steps to get to the top of the bulwarks; then to go down a long ladder, which landed you on the top of the paddle box of the steamer. From this paddle box you walked along a little way over what they called a bridge; and then there was another flight of stairs leading to the deck. As all these stairs, and also the sides of both the steamers, were painted black, and as the water looked black and gloomy too, the whole being only faintly illuminated by the lurid glare of the lanterns held by the men, the prospect was really very disheartening. Maria said, when she reached the top of the bulwark and looked down, that she should never dare to go down there in the world.
She was, however, a sensible girl, and as she knew very well that there could not be any real danger in such a case, she summoned all her resolution and went on. Men stood below, at the different landing-places, to help her, and her brother handed her down from above. Mr. Chauncy, as soon as he saw that she had safely descended, was going to attend to the children, but just at that instant he missed his despatch bag. He asked where it was. Some said they believed it had gone down the slide. There was a sort of slide by the side of the ladder, where the mails and trunks had been sent down. Some said it had gone down this slide; others did not know. So he directed the children to wait a moment while he went down to see. He accordingly descended the ladder, and began to look about in a hurried manner to see if he could find it. The men on board the steamer, in the mean while, were impatient to cut loose from the ship, the mail agent having called out to them to make haste, or they would be too late for the train. Accordingly, some of them stood by the ladder, ready to take it down; while others seized the ropes and prepared to cast them off at a moment's notice, as soon as they should hear that the despatch bag was found. They did not know that the children were at the top of the ladder, waiting to come on board; for it was so dark that nothing could be seen distinctly except where the lanterns were directly shining, and the noise made by the roaring of the steamer was so great that very little could be heard.
Mr. Chauncy found the despatch bag very soon in the after part of the vessel, where somebody had put it in a safe place. As soon as he saw it, he said, "Ah, here it is. All right!"
"All right! all right!" said the sailors around him, repeating his words in a loud tone, when they heard him say that the despatch bag was found. Mr. Chauncy immediately hurried back to go up the ladder to the children; but he was too late. On hearing the words "all right!" the men had immediately drawn down the ladder, and cast off the fastenings, so that, by the time that Mr. Chauncy reached the paddle box, the noise of the steampipe had suddenly stopped, the paddle wheels were beginning to revolve, and the little steamer was gliding rapidly away from the vast and towering mass under which it had been lying.
"The children!" exclaimed Mr. Chauncy, "the children!"
"Never mind," said the captain, in a very quiet tone. "It's too late now. I'll take care of them to-morrow morning."
The captain spoke in a manner as calm and unconcerned as if the children being left in this way was not a matter of the slightest consequence in the world. In fact, the commanders of these steamships, being accustomed to encounter continually all sorts of emergencies, difficulties, and dangers, get in the habit of taking every thing very coolly, which is, indeed, always the best way.
Then, turning to the children, he said,—
"It's all right, children. Go below and get into your berths again, and I will send you on shore to-morrow morning when the rest of the passengers go."
So Rollo and Jennie went below again. The chambermaid was surprised to see them coming back; and when she heard an explanation of the case, she advised them to undress themselves and go to bed regularly. This they did, and were soon fast asleep.
The next morning, very soon after sunrise, another steamer came off from the shore, bringing several custom-house officers to examine the passengers' baggage. By the time that this steamer had arrived, a great many of the passengers were up, and had their trunks ready on deck to be examined. Among the rest was Hilbert with his trunk, though his father and mother were not yet ready. Hilbert was very anxious to get on shore, and so he had got his trunk up, and was all ready on the deck half an hour before the steamer came.
When the tug4 came alongside, Hilbert, who was looking down upon her from the promenade deck, observed a neatly-dressed looking man on board of it, who seemed to be looking at him very earnestly. This was Mr. Holiday's servant. His name was Alfred. When Mr. Holiday had gone to bed the night before, he had given Alfred orders that in case the steamer should come in in the night, or at a very early hour in the morning, before it would be safe for him, as an invalid, to go out, he, Alfred, was to go on board, find the children, and bring them on shore. Accordingly, when Alfred saw Hilbert, and observed that he was of about the same size as Rollo had been described to him to be, he supposed that it must be Rollo. Accordingly, as soon as the tug was made fast, he came up the ladder, and immediately made his way to the promenade deck, to the place where Hilbert was standing. As he approached Hilbert, he touched his hat, and then said, in a very respectful tone,—
"Beg pardon, sir. Is this Master Holiday?"
"Rollo, do you mean?" said Hilbert. "No. Rollo went ashore last night with the bearer of despatches."
Hilbert knew that this was the arrangement which had been made, and he supposed that it had been carried into effect.
Alfred, who was a very faithful and trustworthy man, and was accustomed to do every thing thoroughly, was not fully satisfied with this information, coming as it did from a boy; but he waited some little time, and made inquiries of other passengers. At last, one gentleman told him that he was sure that Rollo had gone on shore, for he saw him and his sister pass up out of the cabin when the mail tug came. He was sitting up in the cabin reading at the time. Alfred was satisfied with this explanation, and so he called a small boat which was alongside, and engaged the boatman to row him ashore.
Thus the second plan for taking care of Rollo and Jennie, in the landing, failed.
All this time Rollo and Jennie were both asleep—for the chambermaid, thinking that they must be tired from having been up so late the night before, concluded to let them sleep as long as possible. While they were sleeping, the waiters on board the ship were all employed in carrying up trunks, and boxes, and carpet bags, and bundles of canes and umbrellas, from all the state rooms, and spreading them about upon the decks, where the custom-house officers could examine them. The decks soon, of course, presented in every part very bustling and noisy scenes. Passengers were hurrying to and fro. Some were getting their baggage together for examination; some were unstrapping their trunks; and others, having unstrapped theirs, were now fumbling in their pockets, in great distress, to find the keys. It is always an awkward thing to lose a trunk key; but the most unfortunate of all possible times for meeting with this calamity is when a custom-house officer is standing by, waiting to examine what your trunk contains. Those who could not find their keys were obliged to stand aside and let others take their turn. As fast as the trunks were inspected, the lid of each was shut down, and it was marked with chalk; and then, as soon as it was locked and strapped again, a porter conveyed it to the tug, where the owner followed it, ready to go on shore.
In the midst of this scene the captain came on deck, and began to look around for the children whom he had promised to take care of. He made some inquiries for them, and at length was told that they had gone ashore.
"At least, I think they have gone," said his informant. "I saw Mr. Holiday's coachman here, inquiring for them, a short time ago. And he seems to be gone. I presume he has taken them ashore."
"He can't have taken them ashore," said the captain. "There is nothing to go ashore till this tug goes. However, I presume he has got them under his charge somewhere."
So the captain dismissed the subject from his mind; and after remaining a few minutes on deck, and seeing that every thing was going on well, he went below into his state room, in order to write a letter to the owners of the ship, to inform them of the safe termination of the voyage.
It was about this time that the chambermaid waked Rollo and Jennie. They rose immediately, and were soon dressed. On going up upon the deck, they were somewhat surprised to witness the bustling scenes that were enacting there; and they stood for a few minutes surveying the various groups, and watching with great interest the process of examining the baggage. At length, after following the process through in the case of one of the passengers, who was just opening his trunk when they came up, Rollo turned to Jennie, and said,—
"It is nothing at all, Jennie. I can do it as well as any body."
So he looked about till he found his trunk, and, leading Jennie there, he took his station by the side of it, and immediately proceeded to unstrap and unlock it. He took out some of the largest things from the top of the trunk and put them on a settee near, so that the officer could easily examine the rest. By the time he had done this, an officer was ready.
"Is this your trunk, my lad?" said the officer, at the same time lifting up the clothes a little at the corners.
"Yes, sir," said Rollo.
"All right," said the officer; and he shut down the lid, and marked the top with a P.
Rollo opened his trunk again to put the other things in, and then locked and strapped it. A porter then took it and carried it on board the tender. Rollo and Jennie followed him.
In about half an hour the tender put off from the steamer and went to the shore. On the way, Jennie, who could not help feeling some anxiety about the result of these formidable proceedings, said, timidly,—
"I don't see what we are going to do, Rollo, when we get to the shore."
"We will do what the rest do," said Rollo.
As soon as the steamer touched the pier and began to blow off her steam, a terrific scene of noise and confusion ensued. Rollo and Jennie stood near their trunk, overawed and silenced; but yet Rollo was not, after all, much afraid, for he felt confident that it would all come out right in the end. He was right in this supposition; for as soon as some fifty of the most impatient and eager of the passengers had got their baggage, and had gone ashore, the tumult subsided in a great measure. At length, a porter, after taking away a great many trunks near Rollo, asked him if that trunk, pointing to Rollo's, was to go on shore. Rollo said that it was. So the porter took it up and went away, Rollo and Jennie following him.
They made their way through the crowd, and across the plank, to the pier. When they had got upon the pier, the porter turned and said, "Do you want a carriage?" Rollo answered, "Yes;" and then the porter immediately put the trunk upon the top of a small carriage which was standing there in a line with many others. He then opened the door, and Rollo and Jennie got in.
"How much to pay, sir?" said Rollo.
"Sixpence, if you please, sir," said the porter.
Rollo, who had had the precaution to provide himself with silver change, so as to be ready, gave the man a sixpence. Of course, it was an English sixpence.
"Thank you, sir," said the porter. "Where shall he drive?"
"To the hotel," said Rollo.
"To what hotel?" said the porter.
"Why—I don't know," said Rollo. "To—to the best hotel."
"To the Adelphi," said the porter to the coachman. So saying, he shut the door, and the coachman drove away.
When they arrived at the door of the hotel, the landlord, who came out to see who had come, supposed at once that his new guests must be Mr. Holiday's children; so he sent them up immediately to their father's parlor, where the breakfast table had been set, and their father, and mother, and Thanny were waiting for them. The joy of their parents at seeing them was unbounded, and they themselves were almost equally rejoiced in finding their long voyage brought thus to a safe and happy termination.
In respect to Tiger, however, the end of the voyage was unfortunately not so propitious. In the confusion of the landing she was forgotten, and left behind; and Jennie was so excited and overjoyed at meeting her mother, that it was nearly noon before she thought of the kitten at all. Her father then sent Alfred on board the ship to see if he could get her. He came back with the cage, but he said that the kitten was nowhere to be found. He made diligent inquiry, but he could obtain no tidings of her—and no tidings were ever afterward heard. Whether she fell overboard and was drowned; or whether the waiters on the ship took a fancy to her, and hid her away somewhere in the forecastle, in order to keep her for their pet and plaything in future voyages; or whether she walked over the plank to the pier, when the ship came alongside of it, and there got enticed away by the Liverpool cats into the various retreats and recesses which they resort to among the docks and sewers,—could never be known. At all events, neither Jennie nor Rollo ever saw or heard of her again.
