It’s just about the right time of day, & I am imagining you just about well to work on the turkeys & cranberry. Though, in matter [of] fact, you are more likely preparing for Dr. Hawes’ great yearly discourse. Miss Fan, the Dido, British man of war, has just struck four bells-afternoon watch. Can you calculate what time it is where you are? I wonder if you girls are at a side table this year. I suppose Mother has the “boiled & oyster,” as usual, while Father performs on the roast & criticizes the dressing. So? as the Frenchman says.

As for me, being yet on the sick list, I luxuriate on broth; while the few well men yet on deck have an hour or two ago helped themselves out of two iron bound wooden tubs to rather dry, tough, but fresh buffalo and “taro” (which is a kind of yam—which is a tropical substitute for our excellent potato) eating it without salt, from their tin pans, cutting it with their sheath knives or jack knives (which they are now using with the tar bucket or slush pot in the rigging) & using the forks that nature provided—hardly as white (clean!) as your silver ones. Take care, Bertha. That’s a big drum stick, but I guess you’ll manage it with one hand.

[174]

I hope you won’t think I’ve neglected answering your letters—the pleasure of receiving which, you can scarcely imagine—any longer than I could help.

I was obliged to give up my attempt to write you, as above, as I found I was not well enough. It is now about a week later and I am considerably better, but I have to write with caution. For if the mate should see me, he would be very likely to say I was well enough to “turn up,” when in fact I am so debilitated that Dr. Green assures me I should be very likely to be laid up with a relapse, which would prove very dangerous. But the mate tells the men they must not mind what the Doctor says, but get to work as soon as they are able. This morning he has hustled a poor fellow out, to work at sennit, (under a bamboo shed, as it rains) who will most certainly have the “shakes” this afternoon, as usual. But the old hazer says—“work while you are able.”

By the way, it is the same man, that a few weeks ago, was not expected to live fifteen minutes, who made his will (sailor), gave his real name, which no body in the ship knew before, his father’s direction, &c., &c.—who turned to long before he was able, and in consequence has been laid up again on the sick list, with the fever & ague & other complaints.

A most agreeable circumstance occurred to me last evening. The mate was gone to Canton with a boat’s crew, when Dr. Green came on board and invited me to take a sail with him in his sanpan—equivalent to “taking a ride or airing in his sulky.” Nothing could give me more pleasure as I had not left the ship for more than a month. But I must not be particular. I’ll spin the whole yarn to you one of these days, I hope. I laid down on a mat with a bamboo pillow, & we proceeded to Boston Jack’s at Whampoa-this a noted Chinaman who visited Boston in his youth, & has since amassed a fortune as “Compradore” or “provider” of naval stores (to American ships mostly) from a mast, anchor or long boat, to a half dozen of eggs (duck’s) or a roll of soft tuck (which I get of one of his clerks or assistants every other morning). On Dr. Green’s expressing a wish to see him, he came out from his residence in the rear, into his office. Doctor told I had been sick, &c., &c. & he told me to come in. So I entered & rested myself on a cushioned chair. You must recollect I’m a sailor, swinging in tarry trousers, check shirt, with the lanyard of a jackknife in place of a cravat, monkey jacket, &c.

After resting myself some time I took a short walk with the Doctor & Chinese attendants, in the streets of Whampoa, occasionally entering the shops & stores, & seeing the Chinese in their every day life. Old gentlemen of fortune with rich dresses & robes reaching to their feet, their long tails richly interwove with silk cord, little black satin skull caps with bright turk’s heads or topknots on the unshaved part of their crowns. These “old knobs” we often saluted, which they gravely returned, each repeating “chin chin,” which like a great many of their phrases means many things of a similar character— [175] as “Good evening,” as in the present instance, “Good bye,” “Thank you, &c. Their sons of every age,—little covies, not much bigger than Mister Albert—strutting about in precisely similar dresses, as gravely as Dr. Cox, or Parson Brace in the “marriage ceremony.” However, speak to any [of] ’em big or little, & you find [them] full of fun enough, & they’ll joke and laugh from Dan to Beersheba. Ay, & talk all the time as much nonsense as the main to’gallant studding-sail topping lift blocks, that we had stuck aloft without any thing rove through ’em all the way from New York here.

And you “women kind” will be glad to know I had an opportunity of seeing the fashions, for I met three ladies. That is as much of ladies I suppose as Whampoa can boast, for the rale ginuine ladies—of Hong merchants families, for instance—are never seen in public. But I was glad enough to have an opportunity of seeing ’em hobbling (exactly as if with wooden legs) on their tiny peg tops—what would you call ’em—not feet certainly—about three inches long. The shoes they wear are shaped something like that. If I get well enough to go to Canton, I may possibly get a pair—but I very much fear I shall not be allowed to go up. And if so, I shall come home, with my chest as empty of anything Chinese, as when I left.

If I could afford it I’d get a tail; for they can be procured. Some of the crew of the Congress had two or three, which they whipped off the thieves they took, with their cutlasses. A sufficient punishment I hope the Mandarins thought it. For our sanpan boy, Jo, says, “Suppose you gi’ me vive undret dollar no cut him off, suppose gi’ me dis sip—suppose de whole fleet—not cutty him,” &c.

But the ladies’ head dresses, they would be as great curiosities to you I presume as the men’s. They were all bare headed except I suppose a large quantity of what you call “false hair.” Why, I saw a wash woman dressing her hair in a sanpan fastened to our quarter, & she had three or four hanks yet to be put on, & the Lord knows how many she had built on before. But these, had—mercy! as much again as I had ever seen before—say as much as Mr. Stearnes would care about lifting on the big pitch fork. Each of them had a parasol or umbrella—bamboo, I think they are. I mean to get one of them, too, if I can, and a Chinese gentleman’s straw hat. The rest of their dress was plain enough: Nankeen I think-loose gown kind of jacket, long, & trousers—blue. But law! if I ran after the women in this style I shall get in a scrape & no mistake. Never get where I started for, at any rate.

But I must mention one thing more before I go back to Boston’s. Now gals—I was looking into the doors to see a good interesting place to sit down at, for I wanted to rest every half minute. Passing a half open door, I thought the noise inside, which was low, sounded sort o’ kind o’ natural, as if it was familiar to me at sometime. A moment’s thought & I had it. I feared to intrude (I fear a native would not believe it).

“Sam,” to the attending Fuckee. “This China (chiny) school—make [176] learn, Eh? Catchy read?” (That’s the way Fanquis talk to the common people or generally to all.)

“Ya (yes). Suppose & want ya—can go.” (If you wish you can enter.)

So opening the door, we entered. It was a long room, not very light. The pupils generally were standing up, though there were a few desks, with books on them. I suspect they study at home mostly, as I met some boys afterwards in different places with books, who I think were going to recite. The boys all stared & generally laughed as I came in, and some young rascals [said] in a low tone “Fanqui!” I suppose the master half rose & bowed to me, but coming in from the open street, I did not perceive him at first.

At any rate, the little fellow before him never once looked up or altered his tone as he followed the letters on his book (with his young nails some half inch long). He read with a kind of singsong—first high & then low—about two pages; closed his hornbook; about face, & was trotting off without taking the least notice of me, when I took the liberty of stopping him by catching hold of his tail (about eighteen inches long). He whipped round and laughed in my face! However, I gave him a bit of Mandarin cake (which I had bought for Jack on board) (composed, they say, of rice flour, sugar & dry lard—very delicate & nice they are, too) for saying his lesson so perfectly. He chin chin’d me & went about his business.

I looked at the “boss,” who bowed & smiled. He was about forty years old, I think, & looked very sedate. Before I turned, though, there was another young Celestial singing away as before. On the desk, there was a earthen vase, with brushes (pens), &c. and a large rattan split a dozen times half down. I took it out. All the boys laughed and the old man, too, for that matter. He took & laid it over one of them—two or three coming up for him to show us what it was for—not hard, of course.

But enough of the school. Returning with the Doctor, I looked at some pickles in what appeared a mere huckster’s shop, but which proved to be a very extensive preserve factory & storehouse, having a salesroom in Canton. I passed through half a dozen rooms, in which men were at work chopping all sorts of vegetables, &c, or which were filled with chests, cases and jars of sweetmeats, &c. & a yard as large as the “orchard” full of jars, the size of a half barrel, containing “soy,” a fish & soup sauce; I presume, as the jars were uncovered, not yet completed. I tasted his ginger, (the doctor would not allow me to eat a plateful that was handed me,) as sample. It was far superior to anything of the kind I ever saw before:extremely delicate & rich, and a beautiful color. I should have taken a small 50 cent jar then, but he refused to take (copper) mace,—cash—which was all I could offer, wanting silver. A case of four jars, he asked three dollars for.

But at this rate I shall never get you back to “Misser Boston’s” which the Doctor & I did about sunset. Outside were three young buffaloes, the [177] number he has killed every night, to supply the ships next day. We found Jack at tea with his partners—two—on the platform by the waterside, in front of the store. On the table were various dishes of vegetables, or rather of “greens,” two of lobsters, and crabs, shrimp, and the invariable large dish of rice, probably curried, stood near at hand. There was soy, too, which Boston said they had eaten with their soup.

Apparently they had been engaged some time, and were now enjoying their tea, wines, and liqueurs, of which there were several choice kinds on the board, such as sherry in a beautiful cut glass, short octagonal perfume bottle, Cherry brandy in a queer old fashioned Dutch concern, with a copper plate and a jaw-breaking name of the maker on one of the sides, three or four wines and French liqueurs—London porter, &c. while the old boy smuggled “Samshew” (a wretched fiery Chinese spirit, which has killed more English soldiers than any of their weapons) out of a tea pot, drinking from a cup the size of a large thimble.

Some of these, however, were unnecessarily brought on for our special benefit—I mean the Doctor’s—though I was soon invited to a seat at the “board” where I had an opportunity of enjoying the best supper of cold ham, excellent eggs, bread, &c. and such capital tea, with loaf sugar, (such a contrast to our shushong with molasses). I was soon on intimate terms with our polite entertainers, and was induced by their gentlemanly and complaisant manner, imperceptibly to drop the fo’c’stle. All that I’ve been writing, dear Aunty, will have been but the shell to you. Now “stand by” for the “meat.”

“Mr. Boston,” says I, “do you happen to remember many years since, an American Captain by the name of ’Olmsted?’”

“Humstet?—no—I no. . . .”

“Ha!” interrupted one of his partners, an old man sitting next to me; “Me sabé (know—Portuguese) him. No come here, long time—twenty year, more. S’ip ’untress—I think—he come.”

“Yes sir! Yes sir. That’s him. I am very glad you recollect him.”

“’hem! You sabe him?”

“I have the honour of being his nephew.”

“Eh?”

“He my uncle—you sabe? My father’s uncle.”

“Me sabel Me sabe!”

“I sabe him children you know.”

“Ah! he no come long time. Suppose him catchee die.”

“Yes—long time since—before I was born.” And quite a conversation, very much as above, ensued. (I have endeavoured to follow as much as possible the words we used, to show you a specimen of the Anglo, Macao (Portuguese) Chinese always used here.)

I suppose, I rose very much in their opinion, when they found I was [178]

“connected,” (as Boston expressed it) with a rich and honourable captain. The old man enquired about his family, &c., with apparently much interest, & you may be sure I was not backward in satisfying him. I told him they would be glad to hear from their father’s old acquaintance, which appeared to please him very much. If I am not mistaken, he was his boat attendant or “sanpan.” And it is customary if a captain once has a man, he is pleased with, for him to obtain his services for successive years, if he is not engaged.

About this time it threatened to rain. A large close awning was spread and lights brought on—Chinese candles about the size of your little finger of wax with sterns, so they stood three or four inches above the candlesticks (after the Fanqui fashions). Before we left, the doctor called for a glass of water. An attendant, of which perhaps twenty stood near us, brought two. But our hosts would by no means allow me to drink it, as it would not do for my stomach, recommending me to drink cherry brandy or tea instead. [179] They were undoubtedly right as this river water, unless it has been a long time “settling,” produces violent dysentery &c.

I don’t suppose I have drunk a half a pint for a month past. But tea, Lord bless you! morning & night. It’s a caution to Dr. Alcott to say nothing of Dr. Taft (to whom my best respects). Gracious! but you ought to see these “China-men.” When the ginseng merchants were aboard of us, they had some thirty or forty coolies employed along our decks, sifting it, sorting it, &c. Then there were two hands who did nothing else but bring up large waiters of tea from their boats & pass it around to them. I don’t recollect whether it was another one or not that kept them supplied with little paper cheroots. But their masters on the poop had I think each one a pipe bearer, who also managed the tea cup performance. The gang of stevedores, too, in heaving out our bale goods, had a tub of tea standing at hand, and every few minutes would file off and bale it out, having one man whose business it was to keep it ready for them! There’s one ship near us, that I am told allows the men to drink no water, but furnishes her men with tea—hot from the coppers—four or five times a day.

So the youngster eats more than John and I both, eh? Aunty—perhaps you’d think Fred would do better than all three, if you could have seen him sometimes last July putting down the salt—Oh! I have it—“junk” and hard tack. How many slices of bread (how my mouth waters, when I think of Mrs. Kelley’s soft bread) would you think he’d be likely to eat in a bowl of milk, if you could sec him devouring a couple of (mouldy) “iron-bound sea cakes” soaked in a quart of tea dashed with ’lasses? And then “retiring” on the (so-called) “beef” kid, to get well ballasted, for a four hour’s—I don’t know what to call it;—sleep won’t do-for “lubbers, along shore,” pretend to slee—say, four hour’s—“below”—“bunked in”—that “overhauls fair”—or a two hour’s “bright lookout there for’a’d!” (“bright lookout it is, sir!”) and a caulk under the lee of the long boat; unless interrupted by “Clew up fore & main r’yal!-lay aloft you b’ys & furl ’em”—or, “You, Frederick! Up there and unbecket the main skysail”—or—“Haul down that starb’d main-to’gallant stud’n sail.—Into the top & roll it up one of you boys. Send the gear down on deck, & rig in the boom!” or some such agreeable intelligence from the Mr. “Cock of the walk” on the weather side of the poop.

And you’ve nobody to “taze ye, have ye.” Faith! Wait a day (or a month or two for that matter perhaps) and if that’s what bothers ye (as appears by your letter), nevar belave me, if I don’t aze yer mind of it.

(Postscript)-No. 3. To Miss Maria Olmsted & Co. 34 Ann St.

Remember me with respects to Coz Charles and Mr. Ayres. I regret he does not succeed better with his school. I am sure he must deserve to.

[180]

We have had some five or six days of severe storm. As our “Repealer” says, “Och! It don’t rain then? Faith! It’s for want of time to pour.” The to’gallant forecastle deck not having the usual “wetting down” has leaked a good deal. In truth, the cook and one man have been flooded out of the berths. Fortunately, Chips had just the new “boys’ house” finished, and two of them “moved in” that night. Next morning, Jake, one of them, was found sick; the house leaking considerably. I have since been much troubled by sundry aches and pains in head, back, ears, neck, chest, stomach, thighs, groin, legs, knees, ankles, arms, &c., resulting probably from two trickles of water, which would have been much more acceptable when we were at sea.

However, we were all enlivened yesterday (Sunday) the 17th by the arrival of a “chop” with some cassia which the Stephen Lurman could not take, and a letter informing the mate that the teas would be coming down immediately. And, as the Doctor says, we may sail, the latter part of the week. The Lurman hove up to drop below to the 2nd bar this morning—but a remarkably fair wind having since arisen, it is not improbable she may have sailed immediately to get down the river. In which case I shall send by the Mary Ellen bound for New York, to sail tomorrow. Other ships will probably be leaving all the week, by one of which John & perhaps Father may expect to hear from me. If we get away before New Year’s day, you may expect to hear considerable louder from me, perhaps by May Day. That, after all, I may put off to first of June as you did last year.

It was pretty cold, certainly, for a week after we left, but I did not suffer much, having a powerful Homeopathic remedy. Except the first day, before I could get out thick clothes from the “Combin,” which as happens Chips was employed all Sunday razeeing. He swears that the maker was either out of work or was in debt to “y’r old man,” and wanted to make a “high” job of it; that he owned a share in a nail factory & was creditor to a hardware dealer. He has already recovered eighty screws, & expects some days more work on it: cutting it down one half—as the Captain advised him to “throw the lumber overboard.”

My kind friend, Jim, became pretty well acquainted with you while I was seasick. He begs to be mentioned with his compliments to you-whose name, by the way, he says he always associates with ginger nuts. You’ll hardly believe that I eat many of them 4th July—and a few left nearly a month after—though partly injured by salt water, which penetrated my chest at last, with some damage to sundry articles.

I don’t think, girls, you could write with much pains, or be as successful as you [were] in what you wrote me, if your light came from a window 6 inches long and another the space of an auger hole; three men shaking their sides with laughter at a good yarn or joke. This with brandy [. . .], “to be well-shaken,” being their only remedy for the shakes, with which [181] each expects to be attacked during next 24 hours; as their shipmate in the lower bunk there is fairly making the bowsprit appear a divining rod. Then your ink must have the interesting property of coming out of the pen a beautiful white—& not tarnishing for some time. I meant to have said more & talked about the fruit, my “[. . .] little cabin,” the new horse—but apologizing for shortness of letter & sending, instead, therefore, love, I remain “Freddy.”