[Illustration: A “WHITE STAR” LINER CROSSING THE ATLANTIC.]
THE SEA:
_Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism._
BY
F. WHYMPER,
AUTHOR OF “TRAVELS IN ALASKA,” ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED._
*
* *
*
CASSELL, PETTER, GALPIN & CO.:
_LONDON, PARIS & NEW YORK_.
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
THE GREAT ATLANTIC FERRY. PAGE
The “Grand Tour” of Former Days—The only Grand Tour left—Round 1
the World in Eighty Days—Fresh‐water Sailors and Nautical
Ladies—Modern Steamships and their Speed—The
_Orient_—Rivals—Routes round the Globe—Sir John Mandeville on the
Subject—Difficulties in some Directions—The Great Atlantic
Ferry—Dickens’s Experiences—Sea Sickness—Night at Sea—The Ship
Rights—And then Wrongs—A Ridiculous Situation—Modern First‐class
Accommodation—The Woes of the Steerage—Mark Tapley—Immense
Emigration of Third‐class Passengers—Discomfort and
Misery—Efforts to Improve the Steerage—“Intermediate”—Castle
Garden, New York—Voyage Safer than by the Bay of Biscay—The
_Chimborazo_ in a Hurricane
CHAPTER II.
OCEAN TO OCEAN—THE CONNECTING LINK.
The Great Trans‐Continental Railway—New York to Chicago—Niagara 14
in Winter—A Lady’s Impressions—A Pullman Dining Car—Omaha—“The
Great Muddy”—Episodes of Railway Travel—Rough Roads—Indian
attempts at catching Trains—Ride on a Snow Plough—Sherman—Female
Vanity in the Rocky Mountains—Soaped Rails—The Great
Plains—Summer and Winter—The Prairie on Fire—A Remarkable
Bridge—Coal Discoveries—The “Buttes”—The City Gates of
Mormondom—Echo and Weber Cañons—The Devil’s Gate—Salt Lake—Ride
in a “Mud Waggon”—The City of the Saints—Mormon Industry—A
Tragedy of Former Days—Mountain Meadow Massacre—The “Great Egg‐
shell”—Theatre—The Silver State—“Dead Heads”—Up in the Sierra
Nevada—Alpine Scenery—The Highest Newspaper Office in the
World—“Snowed‐up”—Cape Horn—Down to the Fruitful Plains—Sunny
California—Sacramento—Oakland and the Golden City—Recent Opinions
of Travellers—San Francisco as a Port—Whither Away?
CHAPTER III.
THE PACIFIC FERRY—SAN FRANCISCO TO JAPAN AND CHINA.
The American Steamships—A Celestial Company—Leading 31
Cargoes—Corpses and Coffins—Monotony of the Voyage—Emotions
Caused by the Sea—Amusements on board—“Chalked”—Cricket at
Sea—Balls Overboard—A Six Days’ Walking
Match—Theatricals—Waxworks—The Officers on Board—Engineer’s
Life—The Chief Waiter—“Inspection”—Meeting the
_America_—Excitement—Her subsequent Fate—A Cyclone—At
Yokohama—Fairyland—The Bazaars—Japanese Houses—A Dinner
_menu_—Music and Dancing—Hong Kong, the Gibraltar of
China—Charming Victoria—Busy Shanghai—English Enterprise
CHAPTER IV.
THE PACIFIC FERRY—ANOTHER ROUTE.
The Hawaiian Islands—King and Parliament—Pleasant Honolulu—A 45
Government Hotel—Honeysuckle‐covered Theatre—Productions of the
Islands—Grand Volcanoes—Ravages of Lava Streams and
Earthquakes—Off to Fiji—A rapidly Christianised People—A Native
Hut—Dinner—Kandavu—The Bush—Fruit‐laden Canoes—Strange Ideas of
Value—New Zealand—Its Features—Intense English Feeling—The New
Zealand Company and its Iniquities—The Maories—Trollope’s
Testimony—Facts about Cannibalism—A Chief on
Bagpipes—Australia—Beauty of Sydney Harbour—Its
Fortifications—Volunteers—Its War‐fleet of One—Handsome
Melbourne—Absence of Squalor—No Workhouses Required—The
Benevolent Asylums—Splendid Place for Working Men—Cheapness of
Meat, &c.—Wages in Town and Country—Life in the Bush—“Knocking
Down One’s Cheque”—Gold, Coal, and Iron
CHAPTER V.
WOMAN AT SEA.
Poets’ Opinions on Early Navigation—Who was the First Female 56
Navigator?—Noah’s Voyage—A Thrilling Tale—A Strained Vessel—A
Furious Gale—A Birth at Sea—The Ship Doomed—Ladies and Children
in an Open Boat—Drunken Sailors—Semi‐starvation, Cold, and
Wet—Exposed to the Tropical Sun—Death of a Poor Baby—Sharks
about—A Thievish Sailor—Proposed Cannibalism—A Sail!—The Ship
passes by—Despair—Saved at Last—Experiences of a
Yachtswoman—Nearly Swamped and Carried Away—An Abandoned Ship—The
_Sunbeam_ of Service—Ship on Fire!—Dangers of a Coal Cargo—The
Crew taken off—Noble Lady Passengers—Two Modern Heroines and
their Deeds—The Story of Grace Darling—The Longstone Light and
Wreck of the _Forfarshire_—To the Rescue!—Death of Grace Darling
CHAPTER VI.
DAVY JONES’S LOCKER AND ITS TREASURES.
Clarence’s Dream—Davy Jones’s Locker—Origin of the Term—Treasures 66
of the Ocean—Pearl Fishing—Mother o’ Pearl—Formation of
Pearls—Art and Nature combined—The Fisheries—The Divers and their
_modus operandi_—Dangers of the Trade—Gambling with Oysters—Noted
Pearls—Cleopatra’s Costly Draught—Scottish Pearls very
Valuable—Coral—Its Place in Nature—The Fisheries—Hard Work and
Poor Pay—The Apparatus Used—Coral Atolls—Darwin’s
Investigations—Theories and Facts—Characteristics of the
Reefs—Beauty of the Submarine Forests—Victorious Polyps—The
Sponge a Marine Animal—The Fisheries—Harpooning and Diving—Value
of Sponges
CHAPTER VII.
DAVY JONES’S LOCKER AND THOSE WHO DIVE INTO IT.
Scientific Diving—General Principles—William Phipps and the 79
Treasure Ship—Founder of the House of Mulgrave—Halley’s Wooden
Diving‐Bell and Air Barrels—Smeaton’s Improvements—Spalding’s
Death—Operations at Plymouth Breakwater—The Diver’s Life—“Lower
away!”—The Diving‐_Belle_ and her Letter from Below—Operations at
the Bottom—Brunel and the Thames Tunnel—The Diving
Dress—Suffocation—Remarkable Case of Salvage—The “Submarine
Hydrostat”—John Gann of Whitstable—Dollar Row—Various
Anecdotes—Combat at the Bottom of the Sea—A Mermaid Story—Run
down by the _Queen of Scotland_
CHAPTER VIII.
THE OCEAN AND SOME OF ITS PHENOMENA.
The Saltness of the Sea—Its Composition—Tons of Silver in the 90
Ocean—Currents and their Causes—The Great Gulf Stream—Its
Characteristics—A Triumph of Science—The Tides—The Highest Known
Tides and Waves—Whirlpools—The Maelström—A Norwegian
Description—Edgar Allan Poe and his Story—Rescued from the
Vortex—The “Souffleur” at the Mauritius—The Colour of the Sea—Its
Causes—The Phosphorescence of the Ocean—Fields of
Silver—Principally Caused by Animal Life
CHAPTER IX.
DAVY JONES’S LOCKER—SUBMARINE CABLES.
The First Channel Cable—Now‐a‐days 50,000 Miles of Submarine 98
Wire—A Noble New Englander—The First Idea of the Atlantic
Cable—Its Practicability admitted—Maury’s Notes on the Atlantic
Bottom—Deep Sea Soundings—Ooze formed of Myriads of
Shells—English Co‐operation with Field—The First Cable of
1857—Paying Out—2,000 Fathoms Down—The Cable Parted—Bitter
Disappointment—The Cable Laid and Working—Another Failure—The
Employment of the _Great Eastern_—Stowing Away the Great Wire
Rope—Departure—Another Accident—A Traitor on Board—Cable Fished
up from the Bottom—Failure—Inauguration of the 1866
Expedition—Prayer for Success—A _Lucky_ Friday—Splicing to the
Shore Cable—The Start—Each Day’s Run—Approaching Trinity
Bay—Success at Last—The Old and the New World bound together
CHAPTER X.
THE OCEAN AND ITS LIVING WONDERS.
Perfection in Nature’s smallest Works—A Word on Scientific 111
Classification—Protozoa—Blind Life—Rhizopoda—Foraminifera—A
Robbery Traced by Science—Microscopic Workers—Paris
Chalk—Infusoria—The “Sixth Sense of Man”—Fathers of
Nations—Milne‐Edwards—Submarine Explorations—The Salt‐water
Aquarium—The Compensating Balance required—Brighton and
Sydenham—Practical Uses of the Aquarium—Medusæ: their Beauty—A
Poet’s Description—Their General Characteristics—Battalions of
“Jelly‐fish”—Polyps—A Floating Colony—A Marvellous Organism—The
Graceful Agalma—Swimming Apparatus—Natural Fishing Lines—The
“Portuguese Man‐of‐War”—Stinging Powers of the Physalia—An Enemy
to the Cuttle‐fish
CHAPTER XI.
THE OCEAN AND ITS LIVING WONDERS (_continued_).
The Madrepores—Brain, Mushroom, and Plantain Coral—The Beautiful 122
Sea‐anemones; their Organisation and Habits; their Insatiable
Voracity—The Gorgons—Echinodermata—The Star‐fish—Sea
Urchins—Wonderful Shell and Spines—An Urchin’s Prayer—The Sea
Cucumber—The Trepang, or Holothuria—Trepang Fishing—Dumont
d’Urville’s Description—The Commerce in this Edible—The
Molluscs—The Teredo, or Ship‐worm—Their Ravages on the Holland
Coast—The Retiring Razor‐fish—The Edible Mussel—History of their
Cultivation in France—The Bouchots—Occasional Danger of Eating
Mussels—The Prince of Bivalves—The Oyster and its
Organisation—Difference in Size—American Oysters—High Priced in
some Cities—Quantity Consumed in London—Courteous Exchange—Roman
Estimation of them—The “Breedy Creatures” brought from
Britain—Vitellius and his Hundred Dozen—A Sell: Poor Tyacke—The
First Man who Ate an Oyster—The Fisheries—Destructive
Dredging—Lake Fusaro and the Oyster Parks—Scientific Cultivation
in France—Success and Profits—The Whitstable and other
Beds—System pursued
CHAPTER XII.
THE OCEAN AND ITS LIVING WONDERS (_continued_).
The Univalves—A Higher Scale of Animal—The 139
Gasteropoda—Limpets—Used for Basins in the Straits of
Magellan—Spiral and Turret Shells—The Cowries—The Mitre
Shells—The Purpuras—Tyrian Purple—The Whelk—The Marine
Trumpet—The Winged‐feet Molluscs—The Cephalopodous Molluscs—The
Nautilus—Relic of a Noble Family—The Pearly Nautilus and its
Uses—The Cuttle‐fish—Michelet’s Comments—Hugo’s Actual
Experiences—Gilliatt and his Combat—A Grand Description—The
Devil‐Fish—The Cuttle‐Fish of Science—A Brute with Three
Hearts—Actual Examples contrasted with the Kraken—A Monster
nearly Captured—Indian Ink and Sepia—The Argonauta—The Paper
Nautilus
CHAPTER XIII.
THE OCEAN AND ITS LIVING WONDERS (_continued_).
The Crustaceans, a Crusty Set—Young Crabs and their 150
Peculiarities—Shells and no Shells—Powers of Renewal—The Biter
Bit—Cocoa‐nut‐eating Crabs—Do Crabs like Boiling?—The Land Crab
and his Migrations—Nigger Excitement—The King Crab—The Hut Crab—A
True Yarn—The Hermit or Soldier Crab—Pugnaciousness—Crab War and
Human War—Prolific Crustaceans—Raising Lobster‐pots—Technical
Differences—How do Lobsters shed their Shells?—Fishermen’s
Ideas—Habits of the Lobster—Its Fecundity—The Supply for
Billingsgate—The Season—“Lobster Frolics” in British North
America—Eel‐grass—Cray‐fish, Prawns, and Shrimps
CHAPTER XIV.
OCEAN LIFE—THE HARVEST OF THE SEA.
Fishes and their Swimming Apparatus—The Bladder—Scientific 159
Classification—Cartilaginous Fish—The Torpedo—A Living Galvanic
Battery—The Shark—His Love for Man in a Gastronomic Sense—Stories
of their Prowess—Catching a Shark—Their Interference with
Whaling—The Tiger‐Shark—African Worship of the Monster—The Dog‐
fish—The Sturgeon—Enormous Fecundity—Caviare—The Bony Fishes—The
Flying Fish: its Feats; its Enemies—Youth of a Salmon—The Parr,
the Smolt, and the Grilse—Flourishes in the See—The Ponds at
Stormontfield—The Salmon’s Enemies—The Ettrick Shepherd—Canned
Salmon, and where it comes from—The Fish a drug in N. W.
America—Canoes impeded by them—The Fisheries of the Columbia
River—The Fishing Season—Modes of Catching Salmon—The Factories
and Processes employed
CHAPTER XV.
OCEAN LIFE—THE HARVEST OF THE SEA (_concluded_).
The _Clupedæ_—The Herring—Its Cabalistic Marks—A Warning to 168
Royalty—The “Great Fishery”—Modes of Fishing—A Night with the
Wick Fishermen—Suicidal Fish—The Value of Deep‐sea
Fisheries—Report of the Commissioners—Fecundity of the Herring—No
fear of Fish Famine—The Shad—The Sprat—The Cornish Pilchard
Fisheries—The “Huer”—Raising the “Tuck”—A Grand Harvest—Gigantic
Holibut—Newfoundland Cod Fisheries—Brutalities of Tunny
Fishing—The Mackerel—Its Courage, and Love of Man—Garum Sauce—The
formidable Sword‐fish—Fishing by Torchlight—Sword through a
Ship’s side—General Remarks on Fish—Fish
Life—Conversation—Musical Fish—Pleasures and Excitements—Do Fish
sleep?
CHAPTER XVI.
MONSTERS OF THE DEEP.
Mark Twain on Whales—A New Version of an Old Story—Whale as 178
Food—Whaling in 1670—The Great Mammal’s Enemy the “Killer”—The
Animal’s Home—The so‐called Fisheries—The Sperm
Whale—Spermaceti—The Chase—The Capture—A Mythical Monster—The
Great Sea Serpent—Yarns from Norway—An Archdeacon’s
Testimony—Stories from America—From Greenland—Mahone Bay—A
Tropical Sea Serpent—What is the Animal?—Seen on a Voyage to
India—Off the Coast of Africa—Other Accounts—Professor Owen on
the Subject—Other Theories
CHAPTER XVII.
BY THE SEA‐SHORE.
English Appreciation of the Sea‐side—Its Variety and 190
Interest—Heavy Weather—The Green Waves—On the Cliffs—The Sea from
there—Madame de Gasparin’s Reveries—Description of a Tempest—The
Voice of God—Calm—A Great Medusa off the Coast—Night on the
Sea—Boating Excursion—In a Cavern—Colonies of Sea‐anemones—Rock
Pools—Southey’s Description—Treasures for the Aquarium—A Rat
Story—Rapid Influx of Tide and its Dangers—Melancholy Fate of a
Family—Life under Water
CHAPTER XVIII.
BY THE SEA‐SHORE (_continued_).
A Submerged Forest—Grandeur of Devonshire Cliffs—Castellated 199
Walls—A Natural Palace—Collection of Sea‐weeds—The Title a
Miserable Misnomer—The Bladder Wrack—Practical Uses—The Harvest‐
time for Collectors—The Huge Laminaria—Good for Knife‐
handles—Marine Rope—The Red‐Seeded Group—Munchausen’s Gin Tree
Beaten—The Coralline a Vegetable—Beautiful Varieties—Irish
Moss—The Green Seeds—Hints on Preserving Sea‐weeds—The Boring
Pholas—How they Drill—Sometimes through each other—The Spinous
Cockle—The “Red‐noses”—Hundreds of Peasantry Saved from
Starvation—“Rubbish,” and the difficulty of obtaining it—Results
of a Basketful—The Contents of a Shrimper’s Net—Miniature Fish of
the Shore
CHAPTER XIX.
SKETCHES OF OUR COASTS—CORNWALL.
The Land’s End—Cornwall and her Contributions to the Navy—The 207
Great Botallack Mine—Curious Sight Outwardly—Plugging Out the
Atlantic Ocean—The Roar of the Sea Heard Inside—In a Storm—The
Miner’s Fears—The Loggan Stone—A Foolish Lieutenant and his
Little Joke—The Penalty—The once‐feared Wolf Rock—Revolving
Lights—Are they Advantageous to the Mariner?—Smuggling in
Cornwall—A Coastguardsman Smuggler—Landing 150 Kegs under the
Noses of the Officers—A Cornish Fishing‐town—Looe, the
Ancient—The Old Bridge—Beauty of the Place from a Distance—Closer
Inspection—Picturesque Streets—The Inhabitants—Looe Island and
the Rats—A Novel Mode of Extirpation—The Poor of Cornwall Better
Off than Elsewhere—Mines and Fisheries—Working on
“Tribute”—Profits of the Pilchard Season—Cornish Hospitality and
Gratitude
CHAPTER XX.
SKETCHES OF OUR COASTS—CORNWALL (_continued_).
Wilkie Collins’s Experiences as a Pedestrian—Taken for “Mapper,” 218
“Trodger,” and Hawker—An Exciting Wreck at Penzance—The Life‐line
sent out—An Obstinate Captain—A Brave Coastguardsman—Five
Courageous Young Ladies—Falmouth and Sir Walter Raleigh—Its Rapid
Growth—One of its Institutions—A Dollar Mine—Religious
Fishermen—The Lizard and its Associations for Voyagers—Origin of
the Name—Mount St. Michael the Picturesque—Her Majesty’s Visit—An
Heroic Rescue at Plymouth—Another Gallant Rescue
CHAPTER XXI.
SKETCHES OF OUR SOUTH COASTS—SOUTHAMPTON.
Southampton: its Antiquity—Extensive Commerce—Great Port for 225
Leading Steamship Lines—Vagaries of a Runaway Steamer—The Isle of
Wight—Terrible Loss of the _Eurydice_—Finding of the Court‐
martial—Raising Her from the Bottom—“London by the
Seaside”—Newhaven and Seaford—Beachy Head—An Attempt to Scale
it—A Wreck there—Knowledge Useful on an Emergency—Saved by
Samphire—The Coast‐guard: Past and Present—Their Comparatively
Pleasant Lot To‐day—The Coast‐guard in the Smuggler
Days—Sympathies of the Country against them
CHAPTER XXII.
SKETCHES OF OUR SOUTH COASTS (_concluded_).
Eastbourne and its Quiet Charms—Hastings—Its Fishermen—The Battle 235
of Hastings—Loss of the _Grosser Kurfürst_—The Collision—The
Catastrophe—Dover—The Castle—Shakespeare’s Cliff—“O’er the Downs
so free”—St. Margaret’s Bay—Kingsdown—Deal—A Deed of
Daring—Ramsgate and Margate—The Floating Light on the Goodwin
Sands—Ballantyne’s Voluntary Imprisonment—His Experiences—The
Craft—The Light—One Thousand Wild Ducks caught—A Signal from the
“South Sand Head”—The Answer—Life on Board
CHAPTER XXIII.
SKETCHES OF OUR EAST COASTS:—NORFOLK—YORKSHIRE.
Harwich; its fine Harbour—Thorpeness and its Hero—Beautiful 217
Situation of Lowestoft—Yarmouth; its Antiquity—Quays, Bridges—The
Roadstead—Herring and Mackerel Fishing—Curing Red Herrings and
Bloaters—A Struggle for Life—Encroachments of the Sea—A Dangerous
Coast—Flamborough Head—Perils of the Yorkshire Fisherman’s
Life—“The sea gat him!”—Filey and its Quiet Attractions—Natural
Breakwater—A Sad Tale of the Sea—Scarborough; Ancient Records—The
Terrible and the Gay—The _Coupland_ Helpless—Lifeboat out—Her men
thrown out—Boat crushed against Sea Wall—Two Killed—Futile
Attempts at Rescue—A Lady’s Description of a Scarborough
Gale—Whitby—Robin Hood’s Bay—An Undermined Town
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE ART OF SWIMMING—FEATS IN NATATION—LIFE SAVERS.
Lord Byron and the Hellespont—The Art of Swimming a Necessary 257
Accomplishment—The Numbers Lost from Drowning—A Lamentable
Accident—Captain Webb’s Advice to Beginners—Bold and Timid
Lads—Best Places to Learn in—Necessity of Commencing Properly—The
Secret of a Good Stroke—Useful and Ornamental
Natation—Diving—Advice—Possibilities of Serious Injury—Inventions
for Aiding Swimming and Floating—The Boyton Dress—Matthew
Webb—Brave Attempt to Save a Comrade—The Great Channel
Swim—Twenty‐Two Hours in the Sea—Stung by a Jelly‐Fish—Red Light
on the Waters—Cape Grisnez at Hand—Exhaustion of the
Swimmer—Fears of Collapse—Triumphant Landing on Calais
Sands—Webb’s Feelings—An Ingenious Sailor Saved by Wine‐
bottles—Life Savers—Thomas Fowell Buxton—Ellerthorpe—Lambert—The
“Hero of the Clyde”—His Brave Deeds—Funny Instances—The Crowning
Feat—Blinded and Neglected—Appreciation at Last
CHAPTER XXV.
THE HAVEN AT LAST—HOME IN THE THAMES.
The “Mighty Thames”—Poor Jack Home Again—Provident Sailors—The 272
Belvedere Home and its Inmates—A Ship Ashore—Rival
Castaways—Greenwich Pensioners—The Present System Compared with
the Old—Freedom Outside the Hospital—The Observatory—The
Astronomer Royal—Modern Belief in Astrology—Site of Greenwich
Park—Telescopes and Observations—The Clock which Sets the Time
for all England—Sad Reminiscences—The Loss of the _Princess
Alice_—The Old _Dreadnought_—The Largest Floating Hospital in the
World—The Trinity House: Its Constitution, Purposes, and
Uses—Lighthouses and Light‐vessels—Its Masters
CHAPTER XXVI.
WHAT POETS HAVE SUNG OF THE SEA, THE SAILOR, AND THE SHIP.
The Poet of the Sea still Wanting—Biblical Allusions—The 290
Classical Writers—Want of True Sympathy with the Subject—Virgil’s
“Æneid”—His Stage Storms—The Immortal Bard—His Intimate
Acquaintance with the Sea and the Sailor—The Golden Days of
Maritime Enterprise—The _Tempest_—Miranda’s Compassion—Pranks of
the “Airy Spirit”—The _Merchant of Venice_—Piracy in
Shakespeare’s Days—A Birth at Sea—_Cymbeline_: the Queen’s
Description of our Isle—Byron’s “Ocean”—Falconer’s
“Shipwreck”—His Technical Knowledge—The “True Ring”—The
Dibdins—“Tom Bowling”—“The Boatman of the Downs”—Three Touching
Poems—Mrs. Hemans, Longfellow, and Kingsley—Browning’s “Hervé
Riel”—The True Breton Pilot—A New Departure—Hood’s “Demon
Ship”—Popular Songs of the Day—Conclusion
GENERAL INDEX 305
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
A “White Star” Liner crossing the Atlantic. _Frontispiece._
The Steerage of an Atlantic Steamship Forty Years ago 4
At Dinner in the First‐class Dining Saloon of an 9
Atlantic Steamship during a Storm
New York Bay, looking across to Staten Island 12
A Pullman Railway Car 16
Madison Street, Chicago 17
On the Pacific Railway: a Scene in the Sierra Nevada 20
Mountains
Camp Douglas Garrison, near Salt Lake City 24
A Street in Salt Lake City 25
On the Pacific Railway; the Interior of a Snow‐Shed 29
in the Sierra Nevada
A Cricket‐match on Board Ship 33
Leaving the Coast of California 36
A Street in Japan 41
The Custom House, Shanghai 44
View of Honolulu, Sandwich Islands _To face page_ 45
The Volcanoes of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, Sandwich 49
Islands (from the Sea)
View in Collins Street, Melbourne, Australia 53
“The passengers were let down by ropes” 57
The Rescue from the St. Lawrence River 60
Pearl Oyster (_Meleagrina margaritifera_) 68
Diving for Pearls 69
Coral 72
Coral Island 72
Coral Fishing 73
Sponge Fishing off the Coast of Greece. _To face page_ 77
Sponge, Growing 77
A Diver at Work (with Submarine Lamp) 80
Divers Attacked by a Sword Fish 84
Divers at Work 85
Chart of the Atlantic Ocean 88
Waves off the Cape of Good Hope 89
Whirlpool of Corrievreckan, off the Hebrides 93
“The Souffleur,” Island of Mauritius 96
A Ship Sailing in Phosphorescent Sea. _To face page_ 97
Phosphorescence on the Surface of the Sea 97
Section of the First Atlantic Cable 100
Exterior and Section of the 1865 Atlantic Cable 101
The Paying‐out Machinery on Board the _Great Eastern_ 104
The _Great Eastern_ Laying the Atlantic Cable 109
Foraminifera in Piece of Rock 112
Propagation of an Infusorian by Spontaneous Division 113
Inhabitants of the British seas
Kondylostoma Patens (magnified 300 times) 113
Medusæ 116
Praya Diphyes 117
Agalma Rubra (three‐fifths natural size) 120
Physalia Antarctica 121
Madrepores 124
Sea Anemones 125
Star‐fish 128
Urchins in a Rock 128
Sea Cucumber (_Holothuria tubulosa_) 128
The Razor Fish (_Solen ensis_) 129
The Mussel (_Mytilus edulis_) 129
Isolated Piles covered with the Spawn of Mussels 132
Oysters (_Ostrea edulis_) 133
Dredging for Oysters 137
The Scallop (_Pecten_) 140
The Limpet (_Patella_) 140
Spondylus 140
Turbo 141
Trochus 141
Voluta 141
Conus 141
The Cowrie (_Cypræa tigris_) 141
Strombus 144
Murex 144
Triton 144
Harpa 145
Purpura Lapillus 145
Cleodora 145
The Octopus (_Octopus vulgaris_) 148
The Common Nautilus (_Nautilus pompilius_) 149
Crabs (_Cancer pagurus_) _To face page_ 153
“The West Indian Land Crab (_Gecarcinus ruricola_) 153
The Hermit Crab (_Pagurus Bernhardus_) 156
Lobster (_Homarus vulgaris_) and Prawns (_Palæmon 157
serratus_)
The Common Shark (_Carcharias vulgaris_) 161
The Dog‐fish (_Acanthias vulgaris_) 164
The Globe‐fish (_Tetrodon_) and Sun‐fish 164
(_Orthagoriscus mola_)
The Pipe‐fish (_Syngnathus acus_) 165
The Flying‐fish (_Exocœtus exiliens_) 165
The Salmon (_Salmo salar_) 168
The Herring (_Clupea harengus_) 169
Herring Fishing 172
The Pilchard (_Clupea pilchardus_) 173
The Cod (_Morrhua vulgaris_) 176
The Mackerel (_Scomber scombrus_) 176
Fishing for Tunny off the Coast of Provence 177
Fishing for Sword‐fish 180
The Northern Whale (_Balina mysticetus_) 181
Cutting up the Whale 184
The Great Sea‐serpent when first seen from H.M.S. _To face page_ 186
_Dædalus_
Head of Sea Serpent 189
On the Sea‐shore: Calm and Storm 192
Sea Anemones 196
Delesseria 200
Laminaria 200
Bladder Wrack (_Fucus vesiculosus_) 201
Ulva 201
Pholades in a Block of Gneiss 204
Spinous Cockle (_Cardium edule_) 204
The Weaver‐fish (_Trachinus communis_) 205
The Devil’s Frying Pan, Coast of Cornwall. _To face page_ 207
The Lizard Light 208
The Loggan Stone 208
The Botallack Mine, Cornwall 209
Looe 212
View on the Cornish Coast 217
Rocket Line Thrown to a Wreck near Penzance 220
Life‐boat Going to a Wreck on Doom Bar, Padstow 221
Wreck of a Steamship near Lizard Point 224
The _König Wilhelm_ entering Portsmouth Harbour after _To face page_ 239
the Collision
Southampton 225
H.M.S. _Eurydice_ on her Beam‐ends just after the 228
Squall
Brighton 232
Discovering the Samphire on the Rock 233
The last of the _Grosser Kurfürst_ 237
Dover 240
Ramsgate 241
The Gulf Stream Light Vessel on the Goodwin Sands 244
Harwich 248
Yarmouth 249
Scarborough 253
Captain Boyton attacked by a Dog‐fish in the Straits _To face page_ 262
of Messina
Early Swimming 257
Diving 261
Captain Webb. (_From a Photograph by Albert 265
Fradelle_)
Captain Webb’s Arrival at Calais 268
The Home for Aged Merchant Seamen, Belvedere, Kent 273
Greenwich Hospital 276
Greenwich Pensioners 277
The Great Equatorial Telescope in the Dome, Greenwich 281
Observatory
Collision of the _Bywell Castle_ and the _Princess 284
Alice_
Trinity House, London 288
The Siren Fog‐horn, for Warning Ships off the Coast _To face page_ 289
The Storm 292
After the Storm 293
“He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 296
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown”
“Deep on her side the reeling vessel lies” 297
“At daybreak, on the bleak sea beach, 300
A fisherman stood aghast,”
“Three Fishermen sailed away to the West” 301
[Illustration]
THE SEA.
CHAPTER I.
THE GREAT ATLANTIC FERRY.
The “Grand Tour” of Former Days—The only Grand Tour left—Round the
World in Eighty Days—Fresh‐water Sailors and Nautical
Ladies—Modern Steamships and their Speed—The
_Orient_—Rivals—Routes round the Globe—Sir John Mandeville on the
Subject—Difficulties in some Directions—The Great Atlantic
Ferry—Dickens’s Experiences—Sea Sickness—Night at Sea—The Ship
Rights—And then Wrongs—A Ridiculous Situation—Modern First‐class
Accommodation—The Woes of the Steerage—Mark Tapley—Immense
Emigration of Third‐class Passengers—Discomfort and Misery—Efforts
to Improve the Steerage—“Intermediate”—Castle Gardens, New
York—Voyage safer than by the Bay of Biscay—The _Chimborazo_ in a
Hurricane.
“Come, all ye jovial sailors,
And listen unto me,
While I do sing the _troubles_
Of those that plough the sea.”
We all know what the “Grand Tour” meant a few generations ago, and how
without it no gentleman’s education was considered complete. Now‐a‐days
the journey can be made by almost any one who can command thirty or forty
pounds, and the only really grand tour left is that around the world. M.
Verne tells us—inferentially, at all events—that it can be made in eighty
days, while Puck, as we know, speaks of putting a “girdle round the earth
in forty minutes.” But this statement of the popular French author, like
many others put forth in his graphic and picturesque works, must be taken
_cum grano salis_. It _could_ be, undoubtedly, but it is very questionable
whether any one has yet accomplished the feat. Could one ensure the
absolute “connection” as it is technically termed, of all the steamship
lines which would have to be employed it might be done; or better, one
vessel with grand steaming and sailing qualities might perform the “Voyage
Round the World” in the given time. But M. Jules Verne, it will be
remembered, paints his hero as landing at various points, and as
performing acts of bravery and chivalry _en route_, such as the episode of
rescuing a Hindoo widow from the Suttee; finding time to lounge and drink
in San Francisco “saloons,” and being attacked by Indians, who would wreck
the overland train; and still, with all delays, he is able to reach London
in time to win his wager. The very idea of describing a journey round the
world as an act of eccentricity is peculiarly French. The Englishman who
can afford to make it is especially envied by his friends, and not
considered mildly mad. We have before us a list of books of travel, all
published within the last few years, and in circulation at the ordinary
libraries. Thirteen of these works describe voyages round the world, and
they are mostly the productions of amateur rather than of professional
writers. So easy, indeed, is the trip now‐a‐days, that two of these
records are modestly and deprecatingly described as “Rambles,” while one
of the best of them is the work of a clever and enthusiastic lady,(1)
whose excellent husband, in and out of Parliament, has earnestly and
persistently studied “poor Jack’s” best interests. This lady is evidently
no fresh‐water sailor, and would put to shame the land‐lubber described in
a very old song:—
“A tar, all pitch, did loudly bawl, sir,
‘All hands aloft!’—‘Sweet sir, not I.
Though drowning I don’t fear at all, sir,
I hate a rope exceedingly.’”(2)
Another work, by a young lady in her teens, is entitled, “By Land and
Ocean; or, the Journals and Letters of a Young Girl who went to South
Australia with a Lady, thence _alone_ to Victoria, New Zealand, Sydney,
Singapore, China, Japan, and across the Continent of America.” Perhaps the
most remarkable, however, of modern female travellers is a German lady,(3)
who left Paris with only seven and a half francs in her pocket, and yet
managed to go round the entire globe. It must be admitted that she had
many friends abroad who helped her, and passed her on to others who could
and did assist her in every way. Still, the voyages and travels she made
denote the possession of a goodly amount of pluck.
The item of speed is of great importance, and may well be considered in
connection with a voyage round the globe. Verne’s title would have been
deemed the raving of a lunatic had it been published before the age of
steam, while in the first days of that great power which has now
revolutionised the world it would have been regarded as absurd. The wooden
Cunarder which, forty years ago, conveyed Charles Dickens on his first
trip to America took double the ordinary time occupied now in making the
voyage; and as a journalist has said, between such a vessel “and such
ships as the _Arizona_ (Guion line), the _Germanic_ (White Star line), the
_City of Berlin_ (Inman line), and the _Gallia_ (Allan line), there is
undoubtedly not less difference than between the Edinburgh or Glasgow
mail‐coaches and a modern express train.” The _Arizona_ has made the
_round_ trip—that is, the voyage from Queenstown, Ireland, to Sandy Hook,
New York, and back again—in fifteen days. The Inman line has been
specially celebrated for quick passages, whilst their “crack” steamer, the
_City of Berlin_, has made the single trip outwards in seven days,
fourteen hours, and twelve minutes, and inwards in seven days, fifteen
hours, and forty‐eight minutes. The _City of Brussels_ and the _City of
Richmond_ have done nearly as well, while other steamships of the same
line have made the trip in a very few hours and minutes more time. Think
of considering minutes in a voyage of 3,000 miles! The magnificent
steamship named after the Orient Company has made the voyage from England
to Australia in thirty‐seven and a half days, or not very far from half
the time occupied by other steamships a few years ago. This grand vessel
is said to be only exceeded in size by the _Great Eastern_; she has a
displacement of 9,500 tons and indicated horse‐power of 5,400, and carries
coal enough for her entire voyage—some 3,000 to 4,000 tons. But she is not
to remain unchallenged, for, at the time these pages are being written,
the Barrow Shipbuilding Company is constructing for the Inman line
Atlantic service a still larger iron vessel, with engines of 8,500 horse‐
power, capable of propelling her at the rate of sixteen or seventeen
knots; she will have four masts and three funnels. And yet another vessel
of equal or greater power has been put on the stocks for the Cunard
Company. Again, the largest _steel_ steamship, or ship of any kind, has
been launched at Dumbarton. She is intended largely for the cattle trade
between the River Plate, Canada, and England. She is over 4,000 gross
tonnage, and has been christened the _Buenos Ayrean_. The sums of money
invested in the construction of these superb vessels are enormous. The
_Orient_ is said to have cost, _without_ her fittings, little less than
£150,000, her engines alone involving the expenditure of one‐third of that
amount. And yet a third‐class or steerage ticket to the Antipodes by her
costs only fifteen guineas, while the emigrant can go out to the United
States or Canada by almost any one of the finest steamships of the various
Atlantic services for six guineas.
Many routes might, of course, be taken round the world, England being the
eventual goal in all cases. As quaint Sir John Mandeville says, in the
first chapter of his “Travels”:—“In the Name of God Glorious and
Allemyghty, he that wil passe over the See to go to the City of Jerusalem,
he may go by many Weyes, bothe on See and Lande, aftre the Contree that
hee cometh fro: manye of hem comen to an ende. But troweth not that I wil
telle you alle the Townes and Cytees and Castelles that Men schaslle go
by: for then scholde I make to longe a Tale; but alle only summe Contrees
and most princypalle Stedes that Men schulle gone thorgh, to gon the
righte Way.”
“Although,” says Mr. Simpson, the popular artist, in his work entitled
“Meeting the Sun,” “the reference here is to Jerusalem only, yet in the
Prologue he states that he was born in the ‘Town of Seynt Albanes,’ and
‘passed the See in the Yeer of Lord Jesu Christ MCCCXII, in the Day of
Seynt Michelle, and hidne to have ben longe tyme over the See, and have
reign and gon thorgh manye diverse Landes and many Provynces and Kingdomes
and Iles, and have passed throghe Tartarye, Percye, Ermonye, the litylle
and the gret; throghe Lybye, Caldee, and a gret partie of Ethiope, throghe
Amazoyne, Inde the lasse and the more, a gret partie; and thorghe out many
others Iles, that ben abouten Inde; where dwellen many dyverse Folkes, and
of dyverse Maneres and Lawes, and of dyverse Schappes of Men.’” He adds
further on in his “Boke” that going all round the world was not unknown
even before his time.
“The world is wide,” yet the practical lines for a journey of this sort
are very limited. There is the Siberian overland route, leading by St.
Petersburg, Moscow, from which it goes about straight east through Siberia
to Lake Baikal; and then there is about a month’s journey south, over the
Mongolian Desert to Peking; or it may be varied by descending the great
Amoor River, on which the Russians have a number of steamers, to
Nicolaiefsk; thence sailing to San Francisco, and home by America and the
Atlantic. “When,” says Mr. Simpson, “the Shah and Baron Reuter have made
railways through Persia it may add slightly to the choice; perhaps when
Russia civilises the whole of Central Asia it may open up a new route as
far as China; but till that happy period, unless the traveller is willing,
and at the same time able, to become a dervish, or something of that sort,
like M. Vambéry, he had better not take the chance of risk in these
regions. Many attempts have been made to pass from India to China, and
_vice versâ_, but as yet no one has succeeded. The difficulties of such an
enterprise are very great, not so much from the races of people as from
the physical character of that region of the earth. These difficulties
can, however, be overcome; and in evidence of this, we have perhaps one of
the most wonderful expeditions of modern times in the journey of the two
Jesuit missionaries, Huc and Gabet, from Peking to Lhassa. When they were
ordered to leave the capital of the Great Lama, they wished to do so in
the direction of Calcutta, as being by far the nearest, and, at the same
time, the easiest way; but in vain. By a policy rigidly insisted upon by
the Chinese Government, no one is allowed to pass anywhere along the
frontiers between China and India.” This writer adds, that when travelling
in Tibet he heard of many parties who wished to cross the frontier in that
quarter, with the purpose only of having a few days’ shooting of some
particular animal which they wanted to bring home; but he never knew of
any one who was able to gratify his wish. One man told him that he had
taken some pieces of very bright red cloth and other tempting bribes for
the officials on the Chinese side, but it was all to no purpose. “It is
not easy to understand why this intense jealousy should exist, but about
the fact there can be no doubt.”
But dismissing any and all ideas of journeying by land through Europe,
Asia, or Africa, our trip will be almost entirely by sea, the trans‐
continental route across America being excepted. Practically that route is
to‐day the best if you would reach quickly and pleasantly any part of the
Pacific. The great railway is an enormous link binding the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans together. The Suez Canal and the Panama route have been
mentioned in these pages—the first very fully; and place must certainly be
had for a description of a railroad which is so intimately connected with
the sea. But first we must reach it.
The passage across the “Great Atlantic Ferry” is now one of ease, and in
the case of first‐class passengers almost luxury. How different was it
about forty years ago, even on the best steamships of that period! Charles
Dickens has graphically described his experiences on board the
_Britannia_, one of the earliest of the Cunard fleet, in one of his least‐
read works(4)—at least in the present generation. The little cupboard
dignified by the name of “state‐room;” the dingy saloon likened “to a
gigantic hearse with windows in the sides;” the melancholy stove at which
the forlorn stewards were rubbing their hands; the stewardess, whom
Dickens blesses “for her piously fraudulent account of January voyages;”
the excitement before leaving the dock; the captain’s boat and the dapper
little captain; the last late mail bags, and the departure, are all
sketched from nature, as the great novelist alone could depict them. And
now they are off.
“‘The sea! the sea! the open sea!
That is the place where we all wish to be,
Rolling about so merrily!’
So all sing and say, by night and by day,
In the _boudoir_, the street, at the concert, and play,
In a sort of coxcombical roundelay.
You may roam through the City, transversely or straight,
From Whitechapel turnpike to Cumberland Gate,
And every young lady who thrums a guitar,
Every mustachioed shopman who smokes a cigar,
With affected devotion, promulgates his notion,
Of being a “Rover” and “Child of the Ocean”—
Whate’er their age, sex, or condition may be,
They all of them long for the “Wide, wide sea!”
But however they dote, only set them afloat,
In any craft bigger at all than a boat,
Take them down to the Nore, and you’ll see that before
The “wessel” they “woyage” in has made half her way
Between Shellness Point and the pier at Herne Bay,
Let the wind meet the tide in the slightest degree,
They’ll be all of them heartily sick of the sea!”
So says “Ingoldsby,” and it is, no doubt, true of some London Jack Tars
and Cheapside buccaneers, who, on leaving port, are much more nautically
“got up” than any of the crew. These stage sailors become very limp when
the sea‐water takes the starch out of them. Barham tells us of one Anthony
Blogg:—
“So I’ll merely observe, as the water grew rougher
The more my poor hero continued to suffer,
Till the sailors themselves cried, in pity, ‘Poor buffer!’”
The great steamships of most lines running to distant foreign parts are
_comparatively_ easy and steady in their motions, and there is really more
chance of being attacked by the _mal de mer_ on an English or Irish
Channel boat than there is on the voyage across the Atlantic. The waves in
such channels are more cut up and “choppy” than are those of the broad
ocean. The employment of the twin‐boat, _Calais‐Douvres_, has mitigated
much of the horrors of one of our Channel lines. It is curious to note the
fact that Indians often use a couple of canoes in very much the same
manner as did the designer of the doubled‐hulled vessel just mentioned.
The writer has seen, in the Straits of Fuca, natives conveying all their
possessions on the top of planks, placed over and lashed to two canoes.
One suggestion for the improvement of the steamboat service across the
Channel to France is to construct an enormous vessel, 650 feet long and
150 wide, a ship as long as the _Great Eastern_ and twice her beam, to be
propelled by both paddles and screws. She is to be capable of carrying
several trains, and is to have a roofed station on board, with all the
necessary saloons. Floating platforms are to connect this great steam
ferry‐boat with the shore rails, so that it can start or arrive at any
time of the tide.
“Are you a good sailor?” asks one passenger of another just after leaving
Liverpool. “Oh, I suppose I’m no worse than anybody else,” is, perhaps,
the answer; while some are bold enough to answer, “Yes.” But Dickens
noticed that the first day very few remained long over their wine, and
that everybody developed an unusual love of the open air. Still, with the
exception of one lady, “who had retired with some precipitation at dinner‐
time, immediately after being assisted to the finest cut of a very yellow
boiled leg of mutton with very green capers,” there were few invalids the
first night.
The subject of sea sickness is an unpleasant one, and cannot occupy much
space here. Every old and many a new traveller has a remedy for it, so
possibly the mention of our mode of prevention may be permitted here. It
is simply for the sufferer to wear a very tight belt round the waist. It
has been recommended to many fellow‐passengers, and its use has proved
invariably beneficial. The unusual motion, and sometimes the smells of the
vessel, are the cause of the nausea felt. The tightened belt steadies the
whole body, and, provided the sufferer be not bilious, soon braces him up
corporally and mentally. If he _is_ bilious (which he often is on account
of leave‐takings and festivities prior to his departure) the worst thing
possible is generally recommended him—the ordinary brandy on board. _Very_
fine old liqueur cognac in small doses can, however, be taken with
advantage. An authority (Dr. Chapman) recommends the application of ice,
enclosed in an india‐rubber bag, to the spinal cord. In various
travellers’ works, marmalade, cayenne pepper, port wine, chutnee, and West
India pickles, are prescribed for the malady. The invalid would do much
better by eating fresh or canned fruits of a cooling nature. But to return
to the voyage. Dickens describes the first night at sea in feeling
language.
“To one accustomed to such scenes,” says he, “this is a very striking time
on shipboard. Afterwards, and when its novelty had long worn off, it never
ceased to have a peculiar interest and charm for me. The gloom through
which the great black mass holds its direct and certain course; the
rushing water, plainly heard, but dimly seen; the broad white glistening
track that follows in the vessel’s wake; the men on the look‐out forward,
who would be scarcely visible against the dark sky but for their blotting
out some score of glistening stars; the helmsman at the wheel, with the
illuminated card before him shining, a speck of light amidst the darkness,
like something sentient and of Divine intelligence; the melancholy sighing
of the wind through block and rope and chain; the gleaming forth of light
from every crevice, nook, and tiny piece of glass about the decks, as
though the ship were filled with fire in hiding, ready to burst through
any outlet, wild with its resistless power of death and ruin.”
Irresistibly comic, as well as true, is his description of the ship during
bad weather. “It is the third morning. I am awakened out of my sleep by a
dismal shriek from my wife, who demands to know whether there’s any
danger. I rouse myself and look out of bed. The water‐jug is plunging and
leaping like a lively dolphin; all the smaller articles are afloat, except
my shoes, which are stranded on a carpet‐bag, high and dry, like a couple
of coal‐barges. Suddenly I see them spring into the air, and behold the
looking‐glass, which is nailed to the wall, sticking fast upon the
ceiling. At the same time the door entirely disappears, and a new one is
opened in the floor. Then I begin to comprehend that the state‐room is
standing on its head.
“Before it is possible to make any arrangement at all compatible with this
novel state of things the ship rights. Before one can say ‘Thank Heaven!’
she wrongs again. Before one can cry she _is_ wrong, she seems to have
started forward, and to be a creature actively running of its own accord,
with broken knees and failing legs, through every variety of hole and
pitfall, and stumbling constantly. * * * And so she goes on staggering,
heaving, wrestling, leaping, diving, jumping, pitching, throbbing,
rolling, and rocking, and going through all these movements sometimes by
turns, and sometimes all together, until one feels disposed to roar for
mercy.”
Dickens gives a droll account of a ridiculous situation in which he was
placed. “About midnight we shipped a sea, which forced its way through the
skylights, burst open the doors above, and came raging and roaring down
into the ladies’ cabin, to the unspeakable consternation of my wife and a
little Scotch lady—who, by the way, had previously sent a message to the
captain by the stewardess, requesting him, with her compliments, to have a
steel conductor immediately attached to the top of every mast and to the
chimney, in order that the ship might not be struck by lightning. They and
the handmaid before‐mentioned, being in such ecstasies of fear that I
scarcely knew what to do with them, I naturally bethought myself of some
restorative or comfortable cordial; and nothing better occurring to me at
the moment than hot brandy‐and‐water, I procured a tumblerful without
delay. It being impossible to stand or sit without holding on, they were
all heaped together in one corner of a long sofa—a fixture extending
entirely across the cabin—where they clung to each other, in momentary
expectation of being drowned. When I approached this place with my
specific, and was about to administer it, with many consolatory
expressions, to the nearest sufferer, what was my dismay to see them all
roll slowly down to the other end! And when I staggered to that end, and
held out the glass once more, how immensely baffled were my good
intentions by the ship giving another lurch, and their all rolling back
again! I suppose I dodged them up and down this sofa for at least a
quarter of an hour, without reaching them once; and by the time I did
catch them the brandy‐and‐water was diminished by constant spilling to a
tea‐spoonful.”
What a difference to the accommodations and comfort of most modern
steamships, with their luxurious saloons placed amidships, where there is
least motion; their spacious and airy state‐rooms, warmed by steam, water
laid on, and fitted with electric bells; their music‐room with piano and
harmonium, their smoking‐room, bath‐rooms, library, and even barber’s
shop. The table is as well served as at the best hotel ashore, and the
_menu_ for the day is as extensive as that of a first‐class restaurant,
while everything that may be required in the drinkables, from modest
bottled beer to rare old wine, is to be obtained from the steward. And
provided that the passengers assimilate reasonably well, there will be
enjoyable games, music, and possibly private theatricals and other
regularly organised entertainments. The idea of a “Punch and Judy” in the
middle of the Atlantic seems rather funny; but we have known of an
instance in which even this form of amusement has been provided on board a
great steamship! On long voyages it is not by any means uncommon for some
one to start a MS. daily or weekly journal, to which many of the
passengers contribute. Such have often been published afterwards for
private circulation, as affording reminiscences of a pleasant voyage.
Then there is the pleasure of discovering “a sail in sight,” and of
watching it grow larger by degrees as the vessels approach each other. The
“look out” is kept by some passengers almost as persistently as by the
sailors detailed for the purpose. Perhaps, again, the captain or officers
have let out the fact that they should pass one of their own or some rival
company’s vessel that day. How many eyes are strained after that first
mere thread of smoke on the horizon! What ringing cheers as the two great
steamships near each other! What an amount of anxious enthusiasm when it
is known that a boat is coming off from the other vessel, and what
feverish excitement to learn all the news! They may have been seven or
eight days without any, and in that time what may not have occurred in the
history of nations!
Then, again, the sea itself, in its varying beauty or grandeur, has for
most travellers a great interest. Is there not a chance of seeing an
iceberg, a whale, or even the great sea serpent?
In March‐April, 1869, the writer crossed the Atlantic in splendid weather.
The ocean was, for the ten days occupied on the passage, almost literally
as calm as a lake; even the lady passengers emerged from their cabins two
or three days before they would otherwise have ventured forth. Among them
was one lady seventy‐five years of age, who was running away—so she
informed the passengers—from her husband, and going to join her children
in the States. This female had “stood it” for fifty years, but now, she
said, she was going to end her days in peace. Here was a champion of
“woman’s rights!” Alas! on arrival in New York there was no one to receive
her, and she was taken back on board the steamer. What became of her
afterwards we know not.
[Illustration: THE STEERAGE OF AN ATLANTIC STEAMSHIP FORTY YEARS AGO.]
The woes of steerage passengers have been graphically described by Charles
Dickens. He tells us that “unquestionably any man who retained his
cheerfulness among the steerage accommodations of that noble and fast‐
sailing packet, the _Screw_, was solely indebted to his own resources, and
shipped his good humour like his provisions, without any contribution or
assistance from the owners. A dark, low, stifling cabin, surrounded by
berths filled to overflowing with men, women, and children, in various
stages of sickness and misery, is not the liveliest place of assembly at
any time; but when it is so crowded, as the steerage cabin of the _Screw_
was every passage out, that mattrasses and beds are heaped on the floor,
to the extinction of everything like comfort, cleanliness, and decency, it
is liable to operate not only as a pretty strong barrier against
amiability of temper, but as a positive encourager of selfish and rough
humours.” Dickens follows with a dismally correct picture of the
passengers, with their shabby clothes, paltry stores of poor food and
other supplies, and their wealth of family. He adds that every kind of
suffering bred of poverty, illness, banishment, and tedious voyaging in
bad weather was crammed into that confined space, and the picture, almost
revolting in its naked truthfulness, was not overdrawn in those days. It
could not be written, however, of any steerage whatever in our times, for
partly from governmental care, partly from the general improvement in
means of travel, partly from competition and the praiseworthy desire of
the owners to earn a high character for their vessels’ accommodations, the
steerage of to‐day is _comparatively_ decent; although it is not yet that
which it should be, nor has the progress of improvement kept anything like
pace with railway accommodation of the cheaper kind. Yet one would think
it to the interest of owners(5) to make the steerage an endurable place of
temporary abode.
In 1879 nearly 118,000 steerage passengers left the port of Liverpool for
the United States. It should be noted that this was from _one_ port,
undeniably the principal one for emigration, but still by no means the
only British one used for that purpose. Observe further that it was for
America alone that these emigrants were bound. According to the United
States census of 1870, there were at that time 5,600,000 human beings in
the country who were foreign born, and this number has since gone on
increasing to a very large extent. Nine‐tenths of them at the least
crossed the Great Ferry in ships bearing the Union Jack, and of these,
three‐fourths or more crossed as steerage passengers. Hence the importance
of the question.
Latterly a considerable amount of attention has been given to the sub‐
division of the steerage space, so that, when practicable, friends and
families may remain together. Married people and single women have now
separate quarters. The sleeping accommodations are the weak point. They
are simply rough wooden berths, and the passenger has to furnish his own
bedding, as well as plate, mug, knife, fork, spoon, and water‐can. The
provisions are now‐a‐days generally ample, and on some lines are provided
_ad libitum_. The bill of fare is pretty usually as follows. Breakfast:
coffee, fresh bread or biscuit, and butter, _or_ oatmeal porridge and
molasses; Dinner: soup, beef or pork, and potatoes—fish may be substituted
for the meat; on Sunday pudding is often added; Tea: tea, biscuit and
butter. Three quarts of fresh water are allowed daily. A passenger who has
a few shillings to spend can often obtain a few extras from the steward,
and many, of course, take a small stock of the minor luxuries of life on
board with him.
To those of small means who are contemplating emigration, the
“Intermediate” (second‐class) on board some of the Atlantic steamers to
the States and Canada can be commended. For a couple of guineas over the
steerage rates, excellent state‐rooms, generally with four to six berths
in each, furnished with bedding and lavatory arrangements, are provided.
The intermediate passenger has a separate general saloon, and the table is
well provided with good plain living. As the steerage passenger has to
provide so many things for himself, it is almost as cheap to travel
second‐class.
[Illustration: AT DINNER IN THE FIRST‐CLASS DINING SALOON OF AN ATLANTIC
STEAMSHIP DURING A STORM.]
Almost every reader will remember Martin Chuzzlewit and Mark Tapley on
board the wretched _Screw_. How, for example, “the latter awoke with a dim
idea that he was dreaming of having gone to sleep in a four‐post bedstead
which had turned bottom upwards in the course of the night,” for which
there seemed some reason, as “the first objects he recognised when he
opened his eyes were his own heels looking down at him, as he afterwards
observed, from a nearly perpendicular elevation.” “This is the first time
as ever I stood on my head all night,” observed Mark.
The lesson taught by Dickens regarding the necessity of keeping up one’s
spirits on board ship, and better, of helping to keep up those of others,
as exemplified by poor Tapley, is a very important one. If anything will
_test_ character, life on board a crowded ship will do it. Who that has
read can ever forget Mark, when he calls to the poor woman to “hand over
one of them young ’uns, according to custom.” “‘I wish you’d get
breakfast, Mark, instead of worrying with people who don’t belong to you,’
observed Martin, petulantly.” “‘All right,’ said Mark; ‘_she’ll_ do that.
It’s a fair division of labour, sir. I wash her boys and she makes our
tea. I never _could_ make tea, but any one can wash a boy.’ The woman, who
was delicate and ill, felt and understood his kindness—as well she might,
for she had been covered every night with his great coat, while he had for
his own bed the bare boards and a rug.” “If a gleam of sun shone out of
the dark sky,” continues Dickens, “down Mark tumbled into the cabin, and
presently up he came again with a woman in his arms, or half‐a‐dozen
children, or a man, or a bed, or a saucepan, or a basket, or something
animate or inanimate that he thought would be the better for the air. If
an hour or two of fine weather in the middle of the day tempted those who
seldom or never came on deck at other times to crawl into the long‐boat,
or lie down upon the spare spars and try to eat, there in the centre of
the group was Mr. Tapley, handing about salt beef and biscuit, or
dispensing tastes of grog, or cutting up the children’s provisions with
his pocket‐knife for their greater ease and comfort, or reading aloud from
a venerable newspaper, or singing some roaring old song to a select party,
or writing the beginnings of letters to their friends at home for people
who couldn’t write, or cracking jokes with the crew, or nearly getting
blown over the side, or emerging half‐drowned from a shower of spray, or
lending a hand somewhere or other: but always doing something for the
general entertainment.”
[Illustration: NEW YORK BAY, LOOKING ACROSS TO STATEN ISLAND.]
Dickens drew his picture from life, and although an extreme case, there
are many Mark Tapleys yet to be met. And indeed, unless the emigrant can
remain happy and jovial amid the unmistakable hardships of even the best
regulated steerage, he had better have stopped at home. If he can stand
them well, he is of the stuff that will make a good colonist or settler,
ready to “rough it” at any time. Before leaving the subject of steerage
passengers and emigrants, it may be well to note that the United States
Government does all in its power on their arrival in New York to protect
them from imposition and furnish them with trustworthy information. At the
depôt at Castle Gardens, where third‐class passengers land, there are
interpreters, money‐changers, railway‐ticket offices, and rooms for their
accommodation; and it is very much their own fault if they slide into the
pitfalls of New York—for New York _has_ pitfalls, like every other great
city.
The risks of the voyage across the Atlantic are not really as great as
those of ships passing southwards through the Bay of Biscay, which is the
terror of passengers to Australia, India, China, and other points in the
Orient. At the beginning of 1880 the fine S.S. _Chimborazo_ returned with
difficulty to Plymouth, three persons having been washed overboard, and
one killed from injuries received on board. Off Ushant a formidable gale
arose, and the vessel began to roll heavily, while on the following
morning the storm had become a hurricane, and the water was taken on board
and below in volumes, threatening a fate similar to that experienced by
the _London_. Just before 9 A.M. an enormous sea broke over the ship,
heeling her over and washing the deck with resistless force. The steam
launch, six heavy boats, the smoking room, saloon companion, and
everything on the spar deck, were in three seconds carried overboard among
the breakers as though they were mere children’s toys, while, in addition
to the losses of life already mentioned, seventeen other passengers were
more or less injured. Just before the ship was struck the smoking‐room was
full of passengers, who were requested by the captain to leave it to give
place to some helpless sheep who were floundering about, and to this fact
they owed their lives. “As,” said a leading journal, “the stricken ship
entered Plymouth Harbour on Tuesday morning, her shattered stanchions and
skylights, her damaged steering apparatus, and the heap of wreckage lying
upon her deck, proclaimed the fury of the tremendous ordeal through which
she had passed, and awakened many a heartfelt and silent prayer of
gratitude among her rescued passengers, as they contemplated the evidences
of the peril from which they had so narrowly escaped.” It is in moments
such as these that the poverty of human words is keenly felt. There can be
no doubt that, but for the excellent seamanship displayed by Captain
Trench and his officers there would have been a sadder story to relate.