How I kept up my courage through these dangers shall now be narrated.The excellent landlord of the "Saint Charles Hotel," when I was going away, begged me to accept two bottles of the very finest Cognac, with his compliments; and I found them in my state-room with my luggage.Lochlomond came to see me off, and as he squeezed my hand at parting, "Roundabout," says he, "the wine mayn't be very good on board, so I have brought a dozen-case of the Medoc which you liked;" and we grasped together the hands of friendship and farewell.Whose boat is this pulling up to the ship? It is our friend Glenlivat, who gave us the dinner on Lake Pontchartrain.
"Roundabout," says he, "we have tried to do what we could for you, my boy; and it has been done de bon coeur" (I detect a kind tremulousness in the good fellow's voice as he speaks)."I say--hem!--the a--the wine isn't too good on board, so I've brought you a dozen of Medoc for your voyage, you know.And God bless you; and when I come to London in May I shall come and see you.Hallo!
here's Johnson come to see you off, too!"As I am a miserable sinner, when Johnson grasped my hand, he said, "Mr.Roundabout, you can't be sure of the wine on board these steamers, so I thought I would bring you a little case of that light claret which you liked at my house." Et de trois! No wonder Icould face the Mississippi with so much courage supplied to me!
Where are you, honest friends, who gave me of your kindness and your cheer? May I be considerably boiled, blown up, and snagged, if Ispeak hard words of you.May claret turn sour ere I do!
Mounting the stream it chanced that we had very few passengers.How far is the famous city of Memphis from New Orleans? I do not mean the Egyptian Memphis, but the American Memphis, from which to the American Cairo we slowly toiled up the river--to the American Cairo at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers.And at Cairo we parted company from the boat, and from some famous and gifted fellow-passengers who joined us at Memphis, and whose pictures we had seen in many cities of the South.I do not give the names of these remarkable people, unless, by some wondrous chance, in inventing a name I should light upon that real one which some of them bore; but if you please I will say that our fellow-passengers whom we took in at Memphis were no less personages than the Vermont Giant and the famous Bearded Lady of Kentucky and her son.Their pictures I had seen in many cities through which I travelled with my own little performance.I think the Vermont Giant was a trifle taller in his pictures than he was in life (being represented in the former as, at least, some two stories high): but the lady's prodigious beard received no more than justice at the hands of the painter; that portion of it which I saw being really most black, rich, and curly--I say the portion of beard, for this modest or prudent woman kept I don't know how much of the beard covered up with a red handkerchief, from which I suppose it only emerged when she went to bed, or when she exhibited it professionally.
The Giant, I must think, was an overrated giant.I have known gentlemen, not in the profession, better made, and I should say taller, than the Vermont gentleman.A strange feeling I used to have at meals; when, on looking round our little society, I saw the Giant, the Bearded Lady of Kentucky, the little Bearded Boy of three years old, the Captain, (this I THINK; but at this distance of time I would not like to make the statement on affidavit,) and the three other passengers, all with their knives in their mouths making play at the dinner--a strange feeling I say it was, and as though I was in a castle of ogres.But, after all, why so squeamish? A few scores of years back, the finest gentlemen and ladies of Europe did the like.Belinda ate with her knife; and Saccharissa had only that weapon, or a two-pronged fork, or a spoon, for her pease.Have you ever looked at Gilray's print of the Prince of Wales, a languid voluptuary, retiring after his meal, and noted the toothpick which he uses?...You are right, madam; I own that the subject is revolting and terrible.I will not pursue it.Only--allow that a gentleman, in a shaky steamboat, on a dangerous river, in a far-off country, which caught fire three times during the voyage--(of course I mean the steamboat, not the country,)--seeing a giant, a voracious supercargo, a bearded lady, and a little boy, not three years of age, with a chin already quite black and curly, all plying their victuals down their throats with their knives--allow, madam, that in such a company a man had a right to feel a little nervous.I don't know whether you have ever remarked the Indian jugglers swallowing their knives, or seen, as I have, a whole table of people performing the same trick, but if you look at their eyes when they do it, Iassure you there is a roll in them which is dreadful.
Apart from this usage, which they practise in common with many thousand most estimable citizens, the Vermont gentleman, and the Kentucky whiskered lady--or did I say the reverse?--whichever you like my dear sir--were quite quiet, modest, unassuming people.She sat working with her needle, if I remember right.He, I suppose, slept in the great cabin, which was seventy feet long at the least, nor, I am bound to say, did I hear in the night any snores or roars, such as you would fancy ought to accompany the sleep of ogres.Nay, this giant had quite a small appetite, (unless, to be sure, he went forward and ate a sheep or two in private with his horrid knife--oh, the dreadful thought!--but IN PUBLIC, I say, he had quite a delicate appetite,) and was also a tea-totaler.I don't remember to have heard the lady's voice, though I might, not unnaturally, have been curious to hear it.Was her voice a deep, rich, magnificent bass;or was it soft, fluty, and mild? I shall never know now.Even if she comes to this country, I shall never go and see her.I HAVEseen her, and for nothing.
