This young man was
then acting as a sort of missionary among the seamen of the port, and he
had fallen in the way of the young lover the very first day of his
return to his ship. It was an easy matter to work on the good nature of
this easy-minded man, who, on hearing of the ill treatment offered to
his friend, was willing enough to perform the ceremony. Everything being
previously arranged, Mark and Bridget were married, early one morning,
during the time the latter was out, in company with a female friend of
about her own age, to take what her aunt believed was her customary walk
before breakfast. Philadelphia, in 1796, was not the town it is to-day.
It then lay, almost entirely, on the shores of the Delaware, those of
the Schuylkill being completely in the country. What was more, the best
quarters were still near the river, and the distance between the
Rancocus—meaning Mark's ship, and not the creek of that name—and the
house of Bridget's aunt, was but trifling. The ceremony took place in
the cabin of the vessel just named, which, now that the captain was
ashore in his own house, Mark had all to himself, no second-mate having
been shipped, and which was by no means an inappropriate place for the
nuptials of a pair like that which our young people turned out to be, in
the end.
The Rancocus, though not a large, was a very fine, Philadelphia-built
ship, then the best vessels of the country. She was of a little less
than four hundred tons in measurement, but she had a very neat and
commodious poop-cabin. Captain Crutchely had a thrifty wife, who had
contributed her full share to render her husband comfortable, and
Bridget thought that the room in which she was united to Mark was one of
the prettiest she had ever seen. The reader, however, is not to imagine
it a cabin ornamented with marble columns, rose-wood, and the maples, as
so often happens now-a-days. No such extravagance was dreamed of fifty
years ago; but, as far as judicious arrangements, neat joiner's work,
and appropriate furniture went, the cabin of the Rancocus was a very
respectable little room. The circumstance that it was on deck,
contributed largely to its appearance and comfort, sunken cabins, or
those below decks, being necessarily much circumscribed in small ships,
in consequence of being placed in a part of the vessel that is
contracted in its dimensions under water, in order to help their sailing
qualities.
The witnesses of the union of our hero and heroine were the female
friend of Bridget named, the officiating clergyman, and one seaman who
had sailed with the bridegroom in all his voyages, and who was now
retained on board the vessel as a ship-keeper, intending to go out in
her again as soon as she should be ready for sea. The name of this
mariner was Betts, or Bob Betts as he was commonly called; and as he
acts a conspicuous part in the events to be recorded, it may be well to
say a word or two more of his history and character; Bob Betts was a
Jerseyman;—or, as he would have pronounced the word himself, a
Jarseyman—in the American meaning of the word, however, and not in the
English. Bob was born in Cape May county, and in the State of New
Jersey, United States of America. At the period of which we are now
writing, he must have been about five-and-thirty, and seemingly a
confirmed bachelor. The windows of Bob's father's house looked out upon
the Atlantic Ocean, and he snuffed sea air from the hour of his birth.
At eight years of age he was placed, as cabin-boy, on board a coaster;
and from that time down to the moment when he witnessed the marriage
ceremony between Mark and Bridget, he had been a sailor. Throughout the
whole war of the revolution Bob had served in the navy, in some vessel
or other, and with great good luck, never having been made a prisoner of
war. In connection with this circumstance was one of the besetting
weaknesses of his character. As often happens to men of no very great
breadth of views, Bob had a notion that that which he had so
successfully escaped, viz. captivity, other men too might have escaped
had they been equally as clever. Thus it was that he had an
ill-concealed, or only half-concealed contempt for such seamen as
suffered themselves, at any time or under any circumstances, to fall
into the enemies' hands. On all other subjects Bob was not only
rational, but a very discreet and shrewd fellow, though on that he was
often harsh, and sometimes absurd. But the best men have their weakness,
and this was Bob Betts's.
Captain Crutchely had picked up Bob, just after the peace of 1783, and
had kept him with him ever since. It was to Bob that he had committed
the instruction of Mark, when the latter first joined the ship, and from
Bob the youth had got his earliest notions of seamanship. In his calling
Bob was full of resources, and, as often happens with the American
sailor, he was even handy at a great many other things, and particularly
so with whatever related to practical mechanics. Then he was of vast
physical force, standing six feet two, in his stockings, and was
round-built and solid. Bob had one sterling quality—he was as fast a
friend as ever existed. In this respect he was a model of fidelity,
never seeing a fault in those he loved, or a good quality in those he
disliked. His attachment to Mark was signal, and he looked on the
promotion of the young man much as he would have regarded preferment
that befel himself. In the last voyage he had told the people in the
forecastle "That young Mark Woolston would make a thorough sea-dog in
time, and now he had got to be Mr. Woolston, he expected great things
of him.
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