timore; for I had something of the feeling about
that city which is expressed in the saying, that being "hanged in
England, is better than dying a natural death in Ireland." I had the
strongest desire to see Baltimore. My cousin Tom--a boy two or three
years older than I--had been there, and though not fluent (he stuttered
immoderately) in speech, he had inspired me with that desire, by his
eloquent description of the place. Tom was, sometimes, Capt. Auld's
cabin boy; and when he came from Baltimore, he was always a sort of
hero amongst us, at least till his Baltimore trip was forgotten. I could
never tell him of anything, or point out anything that struck me as
beautiful or powerful, but that he had seen something in Baltimore
far surpassing it. Even the great house itself, with all its pictures
within, and pillars without, he had the hardihood to say "was nothing to
Baltimore." He bought a trumpet (worth six pence) and brought it home;
told what he had seen in the windows of stores; that he had heard
shooting crackers, and seen soldiers; that he had seen a steamboat; that
there were ships in Baltimore that could carry four such sloops as the
"Sally Lloyd." He said a great deal about the market-house; he spoke of
the bells ringing; and of many other things which roused my curiosity
very much; and, indeed, which heightened my hopes of happiness in my new
home.

We sailed out of Miles river for Baltimore early on a Saturday morning.
I remember only the day of the week; for, at that time,{107} I had no
knowledge of the days of the month, nor, indeed, of the months of the
year. On setting sail, I walked aft, and gave to Col. Lloyd's plantation
what I hoped would be the last look I should ever give to it, or to any
place like it. My strong aversion to the great farm, was not owing to
my own personal suffering, but the daily suffering of others, and to the
certainty that I must, sooner or later, be placed under the barbarous
rule of an overseer, such as the accomplished Gore, or the brutal and
drunken Plummer. After taking this last view, I quitted the quarter
deck, made my way to the bow of the sloop, and spent the remainder
of the day in looking ahead; interesting myself in what was in the
distance, rather than what was near by or behind. The vessels, sweeping
along the bay, were very interesting objects. The broad bay opened
like a shoreless ocean on my boyish vision, filling me with wonder and
admiration.

Late in the