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Page 17
It was a clear bright morning in June, and the sun was shining in full
splendor, while the calm bosom of the beautiful Thames reflected back
all its dazzling effulgence. The river was studded with shipping, and
to add to the beauty of the scene, two or three East Indiamen had just
anchored there, and as I viewed them majestically riding, I could
easily fancy the various feelings their arrival would create, not only
in the breasts of those who were in these stately barks, but of the
hundreds of expectant friends, who were anxiously awaiting their
return. With how many momentous meetings was that day to be filled.
How many a fond and anxious mother, who had, perhaps, for years,
nightly closed her eyes in praying for a beloved son, was in a few
hours to clasp him to the maternal breast. Here, too, might be
pictured, the husband and father returning, not as he left his wife
and children, in the vigour of health and manhood, but with his cheeks
pallid and his constitution enfeebled by hard service in a tropical
climate. Some few had, doubtless, realized those gorgeous dreams of
affluence and greatness which first tempted them to leave their native
land. I once knew one myself, whose hardy sinews had for nearly sixty
years, braved the fervid heat of the torrid sun; but he returned to
_endure_ life, not to _enjoy_ it. He told me, he had left England at
the early age of fourteen. He had, as it were, out grown his young
friendships. Eastern habits and associations had usurped the place of
those domestic feelings, which his early banishment had not allowed to
take root, we might question if the seeds were even sown in his young
breast, for he was an orphan, with no other patrimony than the
interest of connexions, which procured him a cadetcy in the East India
Company's Service. On his departure, he earned no parent's blessing
for him, no anxious father sighed, no fond indulgent mother wept and
prayed. As I stood musing on the scene, a gentleman, a seeming idler,
like myself, joined me, and after many judicious remarks on what was
passing around, informed me he was there to meet a widowed sister, who
only three years before, had gone out in the very ship in which she
now returned, to join her husband,--the long affianced of her early
choice. For a short period, she had enjoyed all earthly happiness, but
it was only for a brief space; for soon, alas! was she taught in the
school of sorrow, that this world is not our abiding place.
But the Blue Peter,[1] gently floating in the scarcely perceptible
breeze, betokened the vessel from which it streamed, destined for a
far different purpose. It told not of restoring the fond husband to
his wife, the father to his children, or the lover to his mistress; it
was, in this instance, to sever, for a time, all these endearing ties;
for very soon would the father, the husband, and the lover be borne
many miles on the trackless ocean, far, very far, from all they hold
dear, and some with feelings so deep and true, that for a time, not
all the brilliant prospects of wealth or glory, will restore their
spirits to their wonted tone.
[1] A flag hoisted always when a ship is preparing to sail.
There was one detachment which greatly struck me; it consisted of
about one hundred and fifty fine athletic young men, who though only
recruits, were particularly soldier-like in appearance. There was
throughout, a sort of determined firmness in their countenances, which
seemed to say, "Away with private feelings! we go on glory's errand,
and at her imperious bidding, and of her alone we think!" Yet to
fancy's eye, might be read an interesting tale in every face. We might
trace, in all, some scarcely perceptible relaxation of muscle, that
would say, "With the deportment of the _hero_, we have the feelings of
the _man_. One young officer was there, belonging to a different
regiment, who, certainly, seemed to have none of those amiable
weaknesses, none of those home feelings, which characterize the
husband or the father. He had not even pains of the lover to contend
with. Glory was indeed _his_ mistress, the all absorbing ruling
passion of his mind; he dreamt not, talked not of, thought not of
aught, but glory!"
Panting to distinguish himself with his corps, he would gladly have
annihilated time and space to have reached it, without spending so
many tedious months in making the voyage. Led away by his military
ardor, he thought not of his anxious parents; little recked he of his
mother's sleepless nights, and how her maternal fears would fancy
every breeze a gale, and every gale a storm, while he was subject to
their influence.
Among those waiting to embark, was one who had just parted from his
wife and children; care and anxiety had set their marks on him. He was
a man of domestic habits, and was now, perhaps, to be severed for
years, from all that gave any charm to life; but the fiat for
separation had gone forth, and was inevitable! Soon would immense
oceans roll between them; their resources, which, while they were
together, were barely sufficient for their wants, were now to be
divided; and the pang of parting, severe enough in itself, was
sharpened by the fear that poverty and privation might overtake them,
ere he could send remittances to his family.
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