210 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



[No, 44. 



" It was but poor satisfaction for tlie loss of so many 

 lives, to say tlie steersman was drown'd with them, 

 who ouglit, indeed, to have died at the gallows, or on 

 the wheel, for he was certainly the niurtherer of all the 

 rest. 



" I have many times pass'd between London and 

 Gravesend with these fellows in their smaller boats, 

 when I have seen them, in spite of the shrieks and cries 

 of tlie women and the perswasions of the men passengers, 

 and, indeed, as if they were the more bold by how 

 much the passengers wore the more afraid ; I say, I 

 have seen them run needless hazards, and go, as it were, 

 within an inch of death, when they have been under 

 no necessity of it, and, if not in contempt of the pas- 

 sengers, it has been in meer laziness to avoid their 

 rowing ; and I have been sometimes oblig'd, especially 

 when there ha^ been more men in the boat of the same 

 mind, so that we have been strong enough for them, to 

 threaten to cut their throats to make them hand their 

 sails and keep under shore, not to fright as well as 

 hazard the passengers when there was no need of it. 



" One time, being in one of these boats all alone, 

 coming from London to Gravesend, the wind freshen'd, 

 and it begun to blow very hard after I was come about 

 three or four mile of the way ; and as I said above, that 

 I always thought those fellows were the more ven- 

 turous when tlieir passengers were the most fearful, I 

 resolved 1 would let this fellow alone to himself; so I 

 lay down in the boat as if I was asleep, as is usual. 



" Just when I lay down, I called to the waterman, 

 'It blows hard, waterman,' said I; 'can you swim?' 

 ' No, Sir,' says he. ' Nor can't your man swim neither? ' 

 said L ' No, Sir,' says the servant. ' Well then,' says 

 I, 'take care of yourselves, I shall shift as well as you, 

 I suppose:' and so down I lay. However, I was not 

 much disposed to sleep; I kept the tilt which they 

 cover their passengers with open in one place, so that I 

 could see how things went. 



" The wind was fair, but over-hlow'd so much, that 

 in those reaches of the river which turn'd crossway, 

 and where the wind by consequence was thwart the 

 stream, the water went very high, and we took so 

 much into the boat, that I began to feel the straw 

 which lay under me at tlie liottom was wet, so I cali'd 

 to the waterman, and jesting told him, they must go 

 all hands to the pump ; lie answered, he hoped I should 

 not be wet; 'But it's !)ad weather, master,' says he, 

 ' we can't help it.' ' No, no,' says I, ''tis pretty well 

 yet, go on.' 



" 13y and by I heard him say to himself, ' It blows 

 very hard,' and every now and then he repeated it, 

 and sometimes thus : ' 'Twill be a dirty night, 'twill 

 be a terrible night,' and the like; still I lay still and 

 said nothing. 



" After some time, and his bringing out several such 

 speeches as above, I rous'd as if 1 had but just wak'd; 

 ' V/ell, waterman," says I, 'how d'ye go on?' Very 

 indifferently,' says he ; ' it blows very liard." ' ,'\y, so 

 it docs,' says I; 'where are we?" ' A little above 

 Erith,' says he : so down I lay again, and said no more 

 for that time. 



" By and by he was at it again, ' It blows a frett 

 of wind,' and ' It blows very hard,' and the like ; but 

 still I said nothing. At last we ship'd a dash of water 



over the boat's head, and the spry of it wetted me a 

 little, and I started up again as if I had been asleep ; 

 ' Waterman,' says I, 'what are you doing? wliat, did 

 you ship a sea?' 'Ay,' says tlie waterman, 'and a 

 great one too ; why it blows a frett of wind.' ' Well, 

 well,' says I, 'come, have a good heart; wliere are we 

 now? ' ' Almost in Gallions,' says he, that's a reach 

 below Woolwich. 



" Well, when we got into the Gallions reach, there 

 the water was very rough, and I heard him say to his 

 man, 'Jack, we'll kesp the weather-shore aboard, for 

 it grows dark and it blows a storm.' Ay, thought I, 

 had I desir'd you to stand in under shore, you would 

 have kept off in meer bravado ; but I said nothing. By 

 and by his mast broke, and gave a great crack, and the 

 fellow cry'd out, ' I^ord have mercy upon us ! ' I started 

 up again, but still spoke cheerfully; 'What's the 

 matter now ? ' says I. ' L — d. Sir,' says he, ' how 

 can you sleep? why my mast is come by the board.' 

 ' Well, well,' says I, ' then you must take a goose- 

 wing.' ' A goose-wing ! wliy,' says he, ' I can't carry a 

 knot of sail, it blows a storm.' ' Well,' says I, 'if you 

 can't carry any sail, you must drive up under shore 

 then, you have the tide under foot:' and with that I lay 

 down again. The man did as I said. A piece of his 

 mast being yet standing, he made what they call a 

 goose-wing sail, that is, a little piece of the sail out, just 

 to keep the boat steddy, and with this we got up as high 

 as Blackwall ; the night being thtn come on and very 

 dark, and the storm increasing, I suffer'd myself to be 

 perswaded to put in there, though five or six mile short 

 of London ; whereas, indeed, I was resolv'd to venture 

 no farther if the waterman would have done it. 



" When I was on shore, the man said to me, ' Master, 

 you have been us'd to the sea, I don't doubt ; why 

 you can sleep in a storm without any concern, as if 

 you did not value your life ; I never carry'd one in my 

 life that did so ; why, 'twas a wonder we had not 

 foimder'd.' 'Why,' says I, ' friend, for that you know 

 I left it all to you ; I did not doubt but you would 

 take care of yourself;' but after that I told him my 

 other reason for it, the fellow smil'd, but own'd the 

 tiling was true, and that he was the more cautious a 

 great deal, for that I took no thought about it ; and I 

 am still of opinion, that tlie less frighted and timorous 

 their passengers are, the more cautious and careful the 

 watermen are, and the least apt to run into danger; 

 whereas, if their passengers appear frighted, then the 

 watermen grow sawcy and audacious, show themselves 

 vent'rous, and contemn the dangers which they are 

 really exposed to." — p. 130. 



We are not bound to suppose that this is a plain 

 relation of matter of fact, any more than the Ilis- 

 tory of Rohinsou Crusoe; but it is a graphic sketch 

 of life and manners worth the notice of those who 

 study such tilings. It forms at least a little con- 

 tributicm to the history of travelling in England. 

 A passenger who had just landed from a Graves- 

 end boat, to pursue his journey by land, might 

 well be thankful to " be received in a coach " like 

 that which had been started at York near half a 

 century before. Alph.4.. 



