_Return Voyage from New York to Liverpool._
To my great and sincere regret, the hour at length arrived when I was
constrained to leave this happy and prosperous land, in which I had seen
and learned so much, and in which _much_ more still remained to be seen
and learned: _sed fata trahunt hominem!_
On the 16th of June, at ten, A. M., I proceeded to Whitehall, the
southernmost point of the battery, accompanied by Mr. Zimmermann, Mr.
George Beiden, and Mr. Armstrong, the American Consul at Port-au-Prince.
Close alongside the wharf, the steam-boat Nautilus, which plies between
New York and Staten Island, lay ready to take passengers on board the
Pacific, one of the Liverpool and New York packets, on board of which I
had taken passage for Europe. The Pacific had on the preceding day,
sailed down to the quarantine ground. The gentlemen above named
accompanied me to the vessel. We were scarcely on board the steam-boat
before she departed on her trip. She was tolerably crowded, inasmuch as
she not only carried the Pacific’s passengers, but likewise their
friends, who accompanied them, and the passengers for Staten Island. The
rain fell in torrents, and the passage was rather unpleasant.
After stopping a few moments at Staten Island to land some passengers,
we reached the Pacific in an hour. The wind being contrary, the ship
could not put to sea. Not far from us lay the packet ship Edward
Quesnell, which had left New York the day previous, and likewise, owing
to head winds, could not proceed on her voyage. This ship belongs to the
Havre-de-Grace line, trading between that port and New York. Our friends
and acquaintances, who had come to bid us farewell, after partaking of a
luncheon, returned in the Nautilus to the city. Now I once again was
compelled to arm myself with patience! I recalled the time, when I was
obliged to remain fourteen long days on board the Pallas, in the Road of
Goeree, and I now consoled myself with a more pleasing situation. At
that time I had just torn myself from the dearest objects of my heart;
I contemplated a tedious stay in England, a dangerous voyage, in a word,
to encounter a host of difficulties, and moreover found myself, in an
inclement season of the year on board a ship, which was to bring me to a
new world. These difficulties were now overcome; the voyage had been
accomplished, and I was conscious that the object of my free choice, had
been truly fulfilled to the best of my endeavours. According to a close
calculation, I found that from my landing in Boston, to the time of my
re-embarkation for Europe, I had travelled over a distance of seven
thousand one hundred and thirty-five miles! How happy was I on board the
Pacific! The greatest tranquillity, order and discipline, the utmost
comfort in respect to quarters; a sedulous attendance, profuse and
palatable meals, seasoned with the best of wines, graced our splendid
board.
The first day was employed by the passengers, about twenty in number, in
making themselves at home; I passed the afternoon and evening in reading
and writing. The rain abated towards night, but the wind remained
unchanged. Among the passengers I observed a Dr. Garret, a surgeon
attached to the seventieth English regiment of the line, whose
acquaintance I had made in Montreal, during the summer previous, also
two Catholic clergymen of that city, Abbés Roux and Richards, a Mr.
Wilkins, and Mr. Adair, an Irishman, and also several gentlemen from
Jamaica, a Swiss merchant named Hoffel, and a young Hamburger, called
Drusina, who had lately returned from Mexico, where he was partner in an
English commercial house, a very genteel young man, and lastly a Dr.
Cabell of Richmond, in Virginia, with his wife, a sister of Mrs. General
Scott, and with their charming friend, Miss Caroline Marx, also a
resident of Richmond.
Though we had no rain on the 17th of June, still the wind continued
unfavourable; the Edward Quesnell had gone farther out to sea, and the
Pacific did the same. The anchor was weighed, we spread our sails, and
coasted for some miles along the shore to the Sandy Hook light-house,
located on a point of land belonging to the state of New Jersey; here we
again joined the Edward Quesnell and cast anchor close to her. While
sailing along the coast, I was visited by my old acquaintance,
sea-sickness, which however did not last long. While attacked by this
sickness, I gratefully recalled to mind the goodness of Providence, in
having preserved me from all disease during my long journey through the
American continent! In England I had several attacks of rheumatism in
the left arm and shoulder; but these pains disappeared during my voyage
to Boston. Owing to the unhealthiness of the climate in the
neighbourhood of Lake Ontario and the river St. Lawrence, I had a
breaking out in the face, which ultimately increased to a scab on the
chin, and of which I did not get rid for several months. To this I have
to add the unfortunate injury from the carriage at Greenbush, which
caused violent pains in my chest. All these left me the moment I reached
the genial climate of the southern states, and during my stay in New
Orleans I did not feel the least inconvenience, and when, during the
journey, I experienced now and then a slight indisposition, it was
doubtless to be attributed solely to the water that I was compelled to
drink; it was but short in its duration, and, upon the whole, during my
travels, I enjoyed perfect health.
The country adjacent to the spot where our ship lay, opposite the
quarantine hospital at Staten Island, until this morning, is uncommonly
beautiful. On leaving this station, we passed through the Narrows,
beheld on our right Fort Richmond on Staten Island, to our left Fort La
Fayette, and in the back ground, on a hill of Long Island, Fort
Hamilton, in the erection of which they were busily engaged. Then we
left the charming high coast of Staten Island and came in sight of the
bleak low lands of Sandy Hook, with Long Island to the left, and the
ocean before us. The Sandy Hook light-house is a high white tower,
surrounded by small underwood; to the south of it, and tolerably distant
from each other, are two small towers, likewise furnished with lanterns,
whose lights are, however, not to be seen at so great a distance at sea
as that of the large one. They serve as landmarks for mariners.
As we lay so near the Edward Quesnell, I went towards evening in a boat
on board that vessel, in order to see how the passengers, and
particularly the worthy Mr. Hottinguer, whom I have heretofore
mentioned, were situated. Although this ship is well constructed and
provided with state-rooms, still it is by no means so elegant and
comfortable as the Pacific, nor is it so large. She had thirty-five
cabin passengers, with a number of children; they were greatly
straightened for room. Besides Mr. Hottinguer, I met several
acquaintances; Colonel de Quartel,[II-36] Baron Lederer,[II-37] with his
two sons, whom he intended to place at a school in Germany; Major
Chotard,[II-38] with his lady and four children, and also a young
Italian scene-painter, from New Orleans, called Fogliardi, who married
there a very old but extremely rich wife, and was on his way to France
and Italy, to escape with his better half from the quizzical jokes of
the wicked wags of New Orleans. Although the deck of the Edward Quesnell
was very narrow, Mr. Hottinguer had received a present of an elegant
saddle-horse from his friends at New York, which, to please those
friends, he was forced to take with him; therefore there was a stable
erected for it on the deck, which took up a great space, and caused much
inconvenience. Mr. Hottinguer and Colonel de Quartel accompanied me back
to the Pacific, and remained some time with me. It was a charming
moonlight evening; the wind, however, still continued unfavourable.
[Footnote II-36: In service of the Netherlands, on his return from
a mission to the new South American republics.]
[Footnote II-37: Austrian Consul-General to the United States.]
[Footnote II-38: Whose acquaintance I made on the Mississippi
during my trip from Louisville to Cincinnati.]
On the 18th of June, just one year had elapsed since I departed in the
Pallas from Falmouth. The whole of this day we had dull weather; the
wind remained unfavourable, and the vessel rode at anchor. Among our
fellow travellers there were several very agreeable individuals. The
English military surgeon was a very sprightly man, who perfectly
understood how to cheer up the spirits of the ladies. Mr. Wilkins,
a very elegant young man of good education, had been previously
introduced to me by Governor Clinton in New York. One of the clergymen,
the Abbé Leroux, an elderly Frenchman, we found tolerably dull. With
regard to the other, the Abbé Richards, I heard it stated, that he had
been originally a Protestant minister in Virginia, and had removed to
Montreal, to endeavour to make proselytes in the seminary of that place;
but in his controversies he became so won over to the Catholic faith,
that he was not only converted, but likewise took the orders of Catholic
priesthood. One of our boats went ashore, and the steward brought back
some fresh provisions, among others tolerably large clams, which, when
roasted or stewed in a rich sauce, resemble the flavour of the lobster,
as likewise a species of large crab, termed horse-shoe, which resembles
the Molucca crab, having a long pointed spine instead of a tail. The
form of the shell of this crab resembles a horse-shoe; seen from the
under part it is all alive; they have ten nippers, with which they seize
their prey, and which answer likewise for feet. In the afternoon we
received a visit from Mr. Hottinguer, Colonel de Quartel, Baron Lederer,
and Mr. Fogliardi. I escorted those gentlemen back to the Edward
Quesnell. The sea running rather high, we were splashed by the salt
water. Our trip seen from the ship must have had a dangerous aspect, for
it was really affecting to behold with what tenderness Madam Fogliardi
caressed her young husband, as he once more happily stood on the deck.
I also became acquainted on board the Edward Quesnell with a Portuguese,
Dr. Constancio, and his wife. During the ephemeral government of the
Cortes in his native land, this individual was Portuguese ambassador
near the government of the United States, and had subsequently, during
the existence of the counter-revolution, lost his office. After
remaining half an hour on board the Edward Quesnell, Mr. Croker took me
back in his long-boat to the Pacific. We made the transition in less
than four minutes. This Mr. Croker is a Quaker, and an experienced
seaman; he had crossed the ocean one hundred and thirty-four times.
During the next three days the wind remained unfavourable. Several
vessels from Liverpool, were making port; one of them had only been
twenty-six days on her voyage. We were likewise, approached by several
small vessels bound to different foreign countries, and like us,
contending with a contrary wind. Towards evening I received a note from
Messrs. Leroy, Bayard & Co. in New York, acquainting me with the failure
of the firm of Fries & Co. in Vienna. As I had formerly been very
hospitably received by that house, and was personally acquainted with
all the individuals belonging to it, their misfortunes deeply afflicted
me.
On the 22d, the rain abated and the weather began to clear up, but the
wind continued steadily blowing from the east, which kept us in the same
spot. Nothing interrupted the uniformity of our mode of living, which we
beguiled by reading the newspapers that we received from the city, and
looking at vessels coming from England, running into port before the
wind. One of these vessels had one hundred and forty Irish emigrants on
board. The James Cropper, a ship belonging to the line, had sailed on
the 16th ultimo from Liverpool. Two days previous, the Silas Richards,
another of the same line, had also arrived, which left Liverpool on the
24th ult. In one of the New York papers, we found a letter from the
master of this vessel, in which he stated, that he had seen the
celebrated sea serpent, not far from the American coast.
During the 23d of June, we still remained becalmed; the weather was
cloudy and rainy throughout the whole day. Mr. Hottinguer, who likewise
began to feel the effects of ennui on board his vessel, paid me a visit,
took a luncheon and dined with us, and passed the greater part of the
day in our company. When in the evening he returned to the Edward
Quesnell, I accompanied him, and made a short visit to my half
despairing acquaintances. One of our boats had gone towards land upon a
fishing excursion, and came back loaded with a rich collection of
various kinds of fish: flounders, bluefish, and herrings in abundance;
clams, crabs beautifully coloured with blue and red; large sea-shells of
extraordinary form, several bass and a small fish, with a brown back,
resembling a toad, with a thick white belly, which it fills with air to
such a degree, that the whole fish has the appearance of a ball,
three-fourths of it are white, and one-fourth forming the back, brown.
When this fish is caught and dies, the air gradually escapes from it,
and it ultimately assumes the form of an empty bladder.
At last, on the 24th, the weather became somewhat clear and the wind
came round favourably for us. At noon the anchor was weighed and we
spread our sails. A number of vessels, desirous to avail themselves of
the fair wind, were coming down from New York and the quarantine ground.
The line packet, John Wells, next in rotation to the Pacific, made
likewise its appearance from port, which was no doubt the principal
cause of our hastily hoisting sail. I counted more than fifty vessels of
all sizes, putting to sea. The wind in the beginning was so slight, that
we could only move along with the ebb tide. We doubled the low cape of
Sandy Hook; in the back ground we saw the light-house, surrounded by
underwood, and in front of it, like two outposts, the two low stony
beacons. Not far from the light-house, stands a half ruined block-house,
in which during the last war a military post was stationed; it now
answers as a landmark for mariners. In the rear of the high light-house,
at a distance of several miles, towers the highland of Navesink,
presenting a charming prospect. To the south one discovers the long and
low coast of New Jersey, and perceives the sea-baths of Long Branch,
which during the heat of summer are numerously visited by the
fashionables of New York and Philadelphia. The heights of Staten Island
with Fort Richmond are seen, to the right of them are the Narrows, and
farther to the right the southernmost high coast of Long Island,
gradually fading from the view. In the centre of the Narrows, Fort La
Fayette stretches out, like a solitary point. As we put farther out to
sea, we saw several buoys, which designated the shallows, through the
midst of which the skilful pilot brought us safely. Two small vessels
were employed in fishing up lost anchors. The pilot remarked, that the
anchors of the French fleet under Admiral De Grasse, had remained here
ever since the time of the American revolutionary war. This fleet owing
to the unskilfullness of two pilots, was compelled to part with its
anchors. When an enemy’s fleet blockades New York, the shipping make to
Sandy Hook bay, properly called Raritan bay, for shelter against storms,
and are thus enabled to blockade the Narrows very closely. Should a
fleet wish to force the passage, it can, as I remarked last fall,
neither be prevented from so doing by Fort Richmond, nor Fort La
Fayette. In a conversation which I had with General Bernard, he stated,
that he would prevent a close blockade by means of two strong casemated
forts, which he would erect on the before-mentioned shallows, whereby
the enemy would be perfectly excluded from Raritan bay. This project
could not, however, be realised at that time, because the grant of funds
by congress were to be appropriated to the completion of the works on
the fortress already commenced.
In the afternoon, the pilot at length left us, and we found ourselves on
the open sea. Although the wind blew very gently, still the sea, owing
to the late storm, ran very high. The ship rolled dreadfully and many of
our passengers were sea-sick. I also felt somewhat unwell, but my
complaint did not produce vomiting.
During the 25th of June the wind not being favourable, we made but
little progress. The weather was rather unpleasant, and the whole day
clouded with a thick fog, almost as dense as that through which we made
our way during last year on the banks of Newfoundland. Towards the
afternoon the weather brightened up a little. We spoke two ships, the
Camillus, of New York, from Greenock, in Scotland, with Scotch
emigrants, bound to New York, and a small brig from New Brunswick, in
ballast, to New York. A shark followed our ship for some time. It gave
me particular pleasure to perceive what tranquillity reigned on board,
that no swearing was to be heard, and that every thing tended to the
comfort of the passengers.
During the night rain fell, and on the 26th of June we had likewise
several showers. We perceived the Edward Quesnell astern of us, and set
several additional sails that she might not reach us. The wind was not
very favourable, and blowing from the south-east, it drove us into the
neighbourhood of the perilous George’s bank, which we so carefully
avoided last year. Therefore we changed our course and stood to the
south. It became imperiously necessary this year to keep aloof from the
bank of Newfoundland, because we had been assured that a great quantity
of detached ice had come down from the north, and setting on the bank in
the shape of bergs and fields of ice, had rendered the passage extremely
dangerous. Several of our passengers, and I among the number, had not
entirely recovered from the effects of sea-sickness.
On the 27th of June the wind had come round favourably to the west,
so that we were enabled to hoist a larger quantity of canvass. In the
forenoon there was a heavy swell, which made me sea-sick. While
labouring under this unpleasant sensation, it is difficult to conceive
how men can expose themselves to the dangers of the sea, while there is
a comfortable house and quiet bed at home. But scarcely is it over, or
scarcely have we put foot on shore before all these inconveniences are
forgotten, and one thinks little of embarking again. The sea gradually
became more still, the weather charmingly warm, and an awning was spread
over a part of the deck, under which we collected, and even the ladies,
who had slowly recovered from sea-sickness, joined us, to breathe the
fresh air. In the evening, we were regaled with music; one of the
steerage passengers blew tolerably well on the bugle, amused his
companions therewith, and we listened to his strains at a distance.
There was some musical talent among ourselves; a young Scotch gentleman
from Jamaica, named Leslie, played elegantly on the flute, and often
delighted us. Several water birds followed our ship; it is a species of
bird resembling a swallow, called petrel, and termed mother Carey’s
chickens by sailors, who say that they never alight upon land, and as
their nests are not readily found, it is hard to tell where they
propagate. A large vessel, which we supposed to be either the Edward
Quesnell or the John Wells, followed constantly in our wake; but our
heavy press of sail kept us always in advance. It is a matter of
surprise, how such a large quantity of sail can be managed by so few
hands, for we had but fifteen sailors and two boys; however, the
steerage passengers were obliged to lend a hand to the manœuvres on
deck; there were thirteen of these on board; they are similar to the
deck passengers in the steam-boats; they pay but little, provide their
own provisions, and are narrowly lodged in a small place below decks,
near the fore-mast, and are not allowed, unless when working, to show
themselves abaft the mainmast, inasmuch as this place is solely reserved
for the cabin passengers. On board our vessel, the sailors slept in
quarters provided for them on the deck, between the fore-mast and the
bowsprit.
During the whole of the 28th of June we were favoured with a prosperous
breeze and fine weather. Our situation was, by a midday observation, 40°
3´ latitude, and 65° 4´ longitude. Since yesterday we had seen grass
floating close to the ship. Thence we concluded that we had already
entered the favouring Gulf Stream. The awning was again spread. Mrs.
Cabell and Miss Marx, who had recovered by degrees from their
indisposition, presented themselves to-day upon deck, and made a
considerable change in the tedious uniformity of our late mode of
living. In the evening Mr. Leslie brought his flute, and delighted us
with music; finally, we began to dance on deck, although from the motion
of the ship it did not succeed well.
On the 29th of June, both wind and weather continued favourable to us;
otherwise things remained as before. Captain Croker, who did every thing
in his power to entertain his passengers, set off in the evening a
couple of rockets, and other fire-works, which afforded us much
pleasure. Mr. Croker, who is very experienced in a seafaring life,
related us many of his adventures on the deep, which we found very
interesting. We twice perceived swarms of flying fish arise from the
water, which after flying a considerable distance, plunged anew into
their native element; they did not, however, come sufficiently near to
enable us to observe them distinctly. A large dolphin likewise made its
appearance, and we were still escorted by mother Carey’s chickens, and
saw numerous sea-gulls.
On the 30th of June no change; wind favourable, weather fine and clear,
and a curiosity in natural history! We generally kept a pair of hooks in
our wake. One of these hooks had caught a mollusc which goes by the name
of _Portuguese man-of-war_. It is of a violet colour, and has a spongy
body with long feelers and two bladders, the largest of which is about
the size of a carp. This bladder the animal fills with air at pleasure,
in order to enable itself to swim, and when the sun shines upon it, it
displays very fine colours. Otherwise we caught nothing, as heretofore,
because fish most generally avoid copper-bottomed vessels, such as ours.
In the evening we saw in the ship’s wake the phosphoric sealight.
Under a continually favourable wind, we made great progress on the 2d of
July, and had the agreeable certainty of leaving the bank of
Newfoundland behind us, so that we had reason to hope, during the
remainder of our voyage, not to be again incommoded by fogs; latitude
41° 24´, longitude 50°. Notwithstanding the constantly favourable and
fresh breezes, the sea was so smooth, that our ship had no more motion
than if we were sailing on a stream. And thus passed off the third of
July; the air, which had thus far been very warm, became to-day rather
cool, which made our cabin very comfortable. At a cable’s length from
our vessel we perceived a numerous herd of porpoises, which were
sporting on the surface of the water; latitude 42°, longitude 46° 48´.
The 4th of July was the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of
American Independence; it was of course duly celebrated on board our
vessel. The American flag was hoisted early, and at dinner more wine
than usual, and of various kinds, was drank freely. Several toasts were
proposed: Mr. Croker drank the health of the King of England; whereupon
Dr. Garret proposed that of the President of the United States; I gave
Governor Clinton’s; thereupon followed a great many of like kind. We
were pretty gay and cheerful, and drank till tolerably late. Several
gentlemen got head-aches, and became sea-sick; and many laughable scenes
took place. I stole into my state-room, in order to avoid similar
mishap.
On the 5th of July we had the good fortune to meet a large whale, which
spouted the water high above him in all directions. He did not, however,
honour us a long time with his presence, but pursued his course, and we
ours, though with much greater velocity; for at the usual meridian
observation, we found our latitude 44° 9´ and our longitude 39° 38´. In
the morning we had little wind, but when towards evening it freshened,
we made from eight to nine miles an hour. Up to this period our voyage
had been most prosperous, continually fair wind and the sea very smooth.
During three days we had seen a brig at the distance of some miles from
us, which was going on the same course, but our ship being a better
sailer, we left it to-day considerably behind.
On the 7th of July, weather dull, with occasional rain; which rendered
it cold and uncomfortable. Latitude 46° 50´, longitude 30° 31´; wind
towards afternoon rather strong, sea running very high with the wind in
our stern; this increased the motion of our ship, which was constantly
pitching from one side to the other. What was not properly fastened gave
way. This gave rise to many droll scenes. The ladies, who were
unaccustomed to this new unpleasantness attending a sea voyage, became
frightened; they conceived that danger was near, and we had considerable
trouble in allaying their fears. One of them entreated in the most
affecting manner, several gentlemen, who were whiling away their time at
a game of whist, and others who were engaged at back-gammon, not to
bring down the vengeance of heaven, and not to increase the danger that
surrounded us, by sinful card-playing and unholy back-gammon! But there
was no danger whatever to apprehend, though the rolling of the vessel
was unpleasant; the passengers scarcely knew where to go, or what to do,
for it was even impossible to sleep, inasmuch as the shocking rolling
threatened us with a fall from our beds.
We pursued our course swiftly during the 8th of July. Latitude 47° 58´,
longitude 25° 10´. In the forenoon the sea was calmer, but during the
afternoon, and particularly in the evening, it ran so high that the ship
pitched more than yesterday. The weather was, during the whole of the
day, unpleasant, cloudy, and rainy, and it was with the greatest
difficulty that we kept our feet on the wet deck. In the evening,
I observed again in the sea the phosphoric light; some parts of the
water sparkled like fireflies.[II-39] We overtook a brig, apparently
bound on our course; on this occasion we once more remarked what a good
sailer the Pacific is, for when we discovered the brig, she was far
ahead of us, and although she had all her sails set, we not only soon
overtook her, but soon left her far behind us. We did not approach her
sufficiently near to speak. During this damp weather, I acknowledged the
superior construction of the Pacific to that of the Pallas; whilst in
the latter the moisture penetrated throughout, and exerted its noxious
influence on a variety of articles liable to rot, and spread through the
whole vessel an insupportable foul smell; every thing in the Pacific was
dry, and in our cabin we had not suffered at all from the existing
humidity.
[Footnote II-39: [This light is emitted by molluscous animals,
which are exceedingly abundant in some parts of the ocean. They
are also seen to great advantage during the night, in the
Chesapeake bay.]--TRANS.]
The night of the 8th and 9th of July I passed very unpleasantly, owing
to the rolling of the vessel; I was every moment on the point of falling
out of my bed, and it was only towards six o’clock in the morning that I
began to enjoy some repose. The day brought with it clear weather. The
wind had been so favourable for the last twenty-four hours, that we
found ourselves in latitude 48° 40´, and longitude 19° 12´. In the
afternoon the wind became variable and blew from various quarters; we
experienced several squalls accompanied by showers of rain. At last it
set in strong from the north-west, and drove us forward at the rate of
eleven miles per hour. Towards evening we came up with a vessel bound
from Savannah for Liverpool, spoke her, and gave her our longitude.
Their reckoning differed from ours, as they believed themselves to be in
longitude 16°. The sea ran rather high while we were in the
neighbourhood of this vessel, so that we could not have a long talk with
her, nor even rightly understand her name. We left her far behind us.
On the 10th of July, the wind continued favourable, there was a heavy
swell of the sea, and much motion in the vessel. The weather clearing
off towards noon, we were enabled to make exact observations, which we
could not do for some days before, on account of the cloudy weather.
It appeared, that we had made a small mistake in our computation of the
longitude, for by the precise observation of this day, we found our
latitude to be fifty degrees twenty-two minutes, and our longitude
seventeen degrees. We saw already several birds, a proof that we were
approaching land; we continually saw petrels and mother Carey’s
chickens. The more we sailed northwards, we felt the air becoming
cooler, which created in me no pleasant sensation.
The 11th of July was rather windy and rainy; in other respects matters
remained in statu quo. Latitude fifty degrees thirty minutes, longitude
twelve degrees fifty-five minutes. We hoped to find ourselves on the
next day on the Nymph bank, which stretches from the south of Ireland,
far into the sea, nor were we deceived in our expectations, for very
early on the 12th of July, we experienced an uncommonly heavy motion,
and the waves ran as high as in a storm, although the wind was not
strong. This served as an assurance, that we had attained the Nymph
bank. The motion of the sea here is caused by the pressure of great
masses of water upon the bank, whereby the under water is cast up, and
driven with great force towards the surface. The lead was hove for
soundings several times since midnight, as we lay still too far to the
south, to be governed by landmarks; had the weather not been so hazy, we
could easily have distinguished Cape Clear, the south-westernmost point
of Ireland, consisting of a single high rock, jutting out into the sea,
and provided with a light-house. While we were seated at dinner, land
was discovered. We mounted on deck, and beheld the high coast of the
county of Cork in Ireland; the weather continued so hazy and rainy, that
we could not have a clear and fine view of the land. I was surprised at
the indifference with which I contemplated the first European land that
now met my view, and particularly when I compared this indifference with
the joyful enthusiasm, with which, one year past, on the 24th of July.
I put my foot for the first time on the soil of America! But at that
time every thing was new to me, and my expectations were wrought up to
the highest pitch; now on the contrary, I could only expect to see what
was generally familiar. After dinner we perceived off the coast of
Ireland, two islands with high hills, called the Saltees, and near them
a three-masted ship, as a floating light at anchor. We met likewise a
steam-boat, bound from Milford in Wales, to Waterford in Ireland. It lay
rather low in the water, and as the wind blew strong from the west, the
sea ran so high, that I did not at all envy the condition of the
passengers in the steam-boat, over whose deck the waves were constantly
beating. The sight of land made our passengers more cheerful, and
towards evening we became more happy than usual.
On the morning of the 13th of July, the wind was uncommonly mild, the
weather, however, cleared up, so that we gradually discovered the lofty
and mountainous coast of Wales. Among these high mountains, we
particularly distinguished that of Snowdon, which towered above the
others, until its pinnacle became lost in the clouds; it is about four
thousand feet high. We descried the Isle of Anglesea next, and came so
near it, that we could perceive distinctly its rough, high and
precipitous rocks, arising from the ocean. On the highest of these
rocks, stands a watch-house with a signal pole; we showed our number;
every vessel that trades with Liverpool, is there furnished with a
number, under which it is inscribed in the book of the exchange, and our
signal was immediately hoisted over the watch-house. By a chain of
telegraphs, the news of our arrival reached Liverpool in a moment, at
the distance of sixty miles. Under the high rock of Anglesea, is a
smaller, more isolated rock, on which stands a white light-house, which
contrasts charmingly with the dark rocks. From the higher rock, a zigzag
path, cut in the rock and surrounded with a white wall, leads to a
bridge, suspended by ropes, over which you enter this little island. As
we approached it towards noon, the wind sprang up, and we enjoyed the
majestic spectacle of the waves breaking on the black rocks. Then we
made the highlands of Holyhead, doubled them and directed our course to
the east. Behind the cape, the beautifully situated town of Holyhead
with its harbour burst upon our view. This English harbour is the
nearest to the Irish coast; between it and Dublin there is a regular
communication by steam-boats. We tacked and stood over to the coast of
Wales, and were delighted with the appearance of its fresh green soil;
its neat houses and churches. The green hedges with which the fields and
meadows are encompassed, produce a very pleasing sensation; I however
observed, that there was a great scarcity of trees. The scenery towards
the sea side began likewise to be more lively, as there was a great
number of vessels in view. At last the pilot-boat came up, and put a
pilot on board. As one approaches England from the European continent,
the elegant construction of these one-masted cutter pilot-boats and
their quick sailing, excites astonishment; but if one is bound from the
United States, and has beheld their elegant shipping, and particularly
the New York pilot-boat schooners, there is no reason for surprise, for
the English shipping is far inferior to the American.
Toward evening, the ebb was against us; we could no longer run into
Liverpool, and were obliged to cast anchor within fifteen miles of the
city. We had passed the same floating light, which I observed three
years ago, in a voyage from Liverpool to Dublin, and we lay near four
light-houses, two of which gave a remarkably clear and beautiful light;
the light of one of these towers played gracefully on the waves. These
towers were a considerable distance from each other, and are so
situated, that two must be brought in a line, to find the proper course.
I had observed on the coast of Wales, some white pyramids, which also
serve as landmarks. We met to-day several steam-boats, bound to
different ports along the Irish coast. Dr. Garret, whose business led
him to Ireland, availed himself of this opportunity to proceed to
Dublin, and left us while we were still under way. We beheld the
departure of this lively fellow-passenger with much regret, as the loss
of his good humour and wit, greatly depressed our spirits. Three
custom-house officers soon came on board, who after inspecting the
vessel for form sake, and partaking of a hearty collation, instantly
freed us from their company. We were boarded by several boats, which
offered to take passengers ashore; but as it was near dusk, and as the
most of us were in no hurry, only two of our fellow-passengers accepted
their proposals. This was the nineteenth day since our departure from
Sandy Hook, and we could not be too thankful to Providence for his
protection, and our happy and speedy voyage. As it was known in
Liverpool, that we were to sail on the 16th ultimo, from New York, our
friends anxiously awaited our arrival.
On the 14th of July, between two and three o’clock in the morning every
body was already stirring on board of our ship; we hoisted anchor and
set sail, with a favourable wind, to reach Liverpool by daybreak. This
city, as is known, is situated on the right bank of the Mersey, in
Lancashire; seen from the water, it presents a charming prospect. To the
right you behold the coast of Chestershire, and a deep bay which
stretches to the city of Chester. This coast is not handsome at first
view, but becomes more agreeable after doubling a very dangerous rocky
point, which runs from the left bank of the Mersey, not far from the
harbour of Liverpool, and on which, during gales, vessels are often
liable to be wrecked. You then discover on this coast beautiful
country-seats, and in the back ground pleasant villages. Captain Croker
wished to avail himself of the rising tide to run into the Prince’s
dock; this required much manœuvering, and at last we took in sail. After
an hour’s labour we ultimately reached the dock. The dock was so crowded
with ships, that the Pacific took her place fourth from the wharf.
I went ashore, and took up my lodgings at the King’s Arms Hotel, in
Castle-street, an excellent hotel, in which I lodged three years ago.
The landing of my baggage went on very slowly, because it had to be
carried over three vessels. When landed, it was carried to the so called
old dock, to a toll-house, situated in the interior of the city. This
toll-house is an old, narrow, smoky building, by no means worthy so rich
a trading emporium as Liverpool. Before I could have my baggage
examined, I was obliged to present myself at the alien-office, to
produce my passport; it was taken from me, and I received a passport ad
interim, in lieu thereof. Upon the whole, I had to undergo a great many
formalities. In AMERICA, it was quite the contrary: there they never
thought of asking me for a passport. Ultimately I received permission to
have my baggage examined, which was done in the politest manner
possible.