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- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.842Z
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- text
- CHAPTER XLI.
REDBURN ROVES ABOUT HITHER AND THITHER
I do not know that any other traveler would think it worth while to
mention such a thing; but the fact is, that during the summer months in
Liverpool, the days are exceedingly lengthy; and the first evening I
found myself walking in the twilight after nine o’clock, I tried to
recall my astronomical knowledge, in order to account satisfactorily
for so curious a phenomenon. But the days in summer, and the nights in
winter, are just as long in Liverpool as at Cape Horn; for the latitude
of the two places very nearly corresponds.
These Liverpool days, however, were a famous thing for me; who,
thereby, was enabled after my day’s work aboard the Highlander, to
ramble about the town for several hours. After I had visited all the
noted places I could discover, of those marked down upon my father’s
map, I began to extend my rovings indefinitely; forming myself into a
committee of one, to investigate all accessible parts of the town;
though so many years have elapsed, ere I have thought of bringing in my
report.
This was a great delight to me: for wherever I have been in the world,
I have always taken a vast deal of lonely satisfaction in wandering
about, up and down, among out-of-the-way streets and alleys, and
speculating upon the strangers I have met. Thus, in Liverpool I used to
pace along endless streets of dwelling-houses, looking at the names on
the doors, admiring the pretty faces in the windows, and invoking a
passing blessing upon the chubby children on the door-steps. I was
stared at myself, to be sure: but what of that? We must give and take
on such occasions. In truth, I and my shooting-jacket produced quite a
sensation in Liverpool: and I have no doubt, that many a father of a
family went home to his children with a curious story, about a
wandering phenomenon they had encountered, traversing the side-walks
that day. In the words of the old song, _“I cared for nobody, no not I,
and nobody cared for me.”_ I stared my fill with impunity, and took all
stares myself in good part.
Once I was standing in a large square, gaping at a splendid chariot
drawn up at a portico. The glossy horses quivered with good-living, and
so did the sumptuous calves of the gold-laced coachman and footmen in
attendance. I was particularly struck with the red cheeks of these men:
and the many evidences they furnished of their enjoying this meal with
a wonderful relish.
While thus standing, I all at once perceived, that the objects of my
curiosity, were making me an object of their own; and that they were
gazing at me, as if I were some unauthorized intruder upon the British
soil. Truly, they had reason: for when I now think of the figure I must
have cut in those days, I only marvel that, in my many strolls, my
passport was not a thousand times demanded.
Nevertheless, I was only a forlorn looking mortal among tens of
thousands of rags and tatters. For in some parts of the town, inhabited
by laborers, and poor people generally; I used to crowd my way through
masses of squalid men, women, and children, who at this evening hour,
in those quarters of Liverpool, seem to empty themselves into the
street, and live there for the time. I had never seen any thing like it
in New York. Often, I witnessed some curious, and many very sad scenes;
and especially I remembered encountering a pale, ragged man, rushing
along frantically, and striving to throw off his wife and children, who
clung to his arms and legs; and, in God’s name, conjured him not to
desert them. He seemed bent upon rushing down to the water, and
drowning himself, in some despair, and craziness of wretchedness. In
these haunts, beggary went on before me wherever I walked, and dogged
me unceasingly at the heels. Poverty, poverty, poverty, in almost
endless vistas: and want and woe staggered arm in arm along these
miserable streets.
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