Afloat and Ashore

Fenimore Cooper James

Description

This sensational tale from action-adventure master James Fenimore Cooper takes the form of the life story of a rugged old sailor, Miles Wallingford. As a youth, Miles, his brother, and their slave Neb ran away from the family home to become seamen, dashing the family's hopes that Miles will become a respectable lawyer. Veering wildly from calamities to courageous feats and back again, Afloat and Ashore is one sea tale you won't soon forget.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775453819
• Langue: English

Extrait

AFLOAT AND ASHORE
A SEA TALE
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
 
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Afloat and Ashore A Sea Tale First published in 1844 ISBN 978-1-775453-81-9 © 2011 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Preface Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Chapter XXIII Chapter XXIV Chapter XXV Chapter XXVI Chapter XXVII Chapter XXVIII Chapter XXIX Chapter XXX Endnotes
Preface
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The writer has published so much truth which the world has insistedwas fiction, and so much fiction which has been received as truth,that, in the present instance, he is resolved to say nothing on thesubject. Each of his readers is at liberty to believe just as much, oras little, of the matter here laid before him, or her, as may suithis, or her notions, prejudices, knowledge of the world, orignorance. If anybody is disposed to swear he knows precisely whereClawbonny is, that he was well acquainted with old Mr. Hardinge, nay,has often heard him preach—let him make his affidavit, inwelcome. Should he get a little wide of the mark, it will not be thefirst document of that nature, which has possessed the same weakness.
It is possible that certain captious persons may be disposed toinquire into the cui bono? of such a book. The answer isthis. Everything which can convey to the human mind distinct andaccurate impressions of events, social facts, professionalpeculiarities, or past history, whether of the higher or more familiarcharacter, is of use. All that is necessary is, that the picturesshould be true to nature, if not absolutely drawn from livingsitters. The knowledge we gain by our looser reading, often becomesserviceable in modes and manners little anticipated in the momentswhen it is acquired.
Perhaps the greater portion of all our peculiar opinions have theirfoundation in prejudices. These prejudices are produced in consequenceof its being out of the power of any one man to see, or know, everything. The most favoured mortal must receive far more than half of allthat he learns on his faith in others; and it may aid those who cannever be placed in positions to judge for themselves of certain phasesof men and things, to get pictures of the same, drawn in a way to givethem nearer views than they might otherwise obtain. This is thegreatest benefit of all light literature in general, it being possibleto render that which is purely fictitious even more useful than thatwhich is strictly true, by avoiding extravagancies, by pourtrayingwith fidelity, and, as our friend Marble might say, by "generalizing"with discretion.
This country has undergone many important changes since thecommencement of the present century. Some of these changes have beenfor the better; others, we think out of all question, for theworse. The last is a fact that can be known to the generation which iscoming into life, by report only, and these pages may possibly throwsome little light on both points, in representing things as theywere. The population of the republic is probably something more thaneighteen millions and a half to-day; in the year of our Lord onethousand eight hundred, it was but a little more than fivemillions. In 1800, the population of New-York was somewhat less thansix hundred thousand souls; to-day it is probably a little less thantwo millions seven hundred thousand souls. In 1800, the town ofNew-York had sixty thousand inhabitants, whereas, including Brooklynand Williamsburg, which then virtually had no existence, it must haveat this moment quite four hundred thousand. These are prodigiousnumerical changes, that have produced changes of anothersort. Although an increase of numbers does not necessarily infer anincrease of high civilization, it reasonably leads to the expectationof great melioration in the commoner comforts. Such has been theresult, and to those familiar with facts as they now exist, thedifference will probably be apparent in these pages.
Although the moral changes in American society have not kept even pacewith those that are purely physical, many that are essential havenevertheless occurred. Of all the British possessions on thiscontinent, New-York, after its conquest from the Dutch, received mostof the social organization of the mother country. Under the Dutch,even, it had some of these characteristic peculiarities, in itspatroons; the lords of the manor of the New Netherlands. Some of thesouthern colonies, it is true, had their caciques and othersemi-feudal, and semi-savage noblesse, but the system was of shortcontinuance; the peculiarities of that section of the country, arisingprincipally from the existence of domestic slavery, on an extendedscale. With New-York it was different. A conquered colony, the mothercountry left the impression of its own institutions more deeplyengraved than on any of the settlements that were commenced by grantsto proprietors, or under charters from the crown. It was strictly aroyal colony, and so continued to be, down to the hour ofseparation. The social consequences of this state of things were to betraced in her habits unlit the current of immigration became sostrong, as to bring with it those that were conflicting, if notabsolutely antagonist. The influence of these two sources of thoughtis still obvious to the reflecting, giving rise to a double set ofsocial opinions; one of which bears all the characteristics of its NewEngland and puritanical origin, while the other may be said to come ofthe usages and notions of the Middle States, proper.
This is said in anticipation of certain strictures that will be likelyto follow some of the incidents of our story, it not being alwaysdeemed an essential in an American critic, that he should understandhis subject. Too many of them, indeed, justify the retort of the manwho derided the claims to knowledge of life, set up by a neighbour,that "had been to meetin' and had been to mill." We can all obtainsome notions of the portion of a subject that is placed immediatelybefore our eyes; the difficulty is to understand that which we have nomeans of studying.
On the subject of the nautical incidents of this book, we haveendeavoured to be as exact as our authorities will allow. We are fullyaware of the importance of writing what the world thinks, rather thanwhat is true, and are not conscious of any very palpable errors ofthis nature.
It is no more than fair to apprize the reader, that our tale is notcompleted in the First Part, or the volumes that are now published.This, the plan of the book would not permit: but we can promise thosewho may feel any interest in the subject, that the season shall notpass away, so far as it may depend on ourselves, without bringing thenarrative to a close. Poor Captain Wallingford is now in hissixty-fifth year, and is naturally desirous of not being hung up longon the tenter-hooks of expectation, so near the close of life. Theold gentleman having seen much and suffered much, is entitled to endhis days in peace. In this mutual frame of mind between the principal,and his editors, the public shall have no cause to complain ofunnecessary delay, whatever may be its rights of the same nature onother subjects.
The author—perhaps editor would be the better word—does not feelhimself responsible for all the notions advanced by the hero of thistale, and it may be as well to say as much. That one born in theRevolution should think differently from the men of the present day,in a hundred things, is to be expected. It is in just this differenceof opinion, that the lessons of the book are to be found.
Chapter I
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"And I—my joy of life is fled, My spirit's power, my bosom's glow; The raven locks that grac'd my head, Wave in a wreath of snow! And where the star of youth arose, I deem'd life's lingering ray should close, And those lov'd trees my tomb o'ershade, Beneath whose arching bowers my childhood play'd." MRS. HEMANS.
I was born in a valley not very remote from the sea. My father hadbeen a sailor in youth, and some of my earliest recollections areconnected with the history of his adventures, and the recollectionsthey excited. He had been a boy in the war of the revolution, and hadseen some service in the shipping of that period. Among other sceneshe witnessed, he had been on board the Trumbull, in her action withthe Watt—the hardest-fought naval combat of that war—and heparticularly delighted in relating its incidents. He had been woundedin the battle, and bore the marks of the injury, in a scar thatslightly disfigured a face, that, without this blemish, would havebeen singularly handsome. My mother, after my poor father's death,always spoke of even this scar as a beauty spot. Agreeably to my ownrecollections, the mark scarcely deserved that commendation, as itgave one side of the face a grim and fierce appearance, particularlywhen its owner was displeased.
My father died on the farm on which he was born, and which descendedto him from his great-grandfather, an English emigrant that hadpurchased it of the Dutch colonist who had originally cleared it fromthe woods. The place was called Clawbonny, which some said was goodDutch others bad Dutch; and, now and then, a person ventured aconjecture that it might be Indian. Bonny it was, in one sense atleast, for a lovelier farm there is not o