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A BOY'S VOYAGE
ROUND THE WORLD
EDITED
BY SAMUEL SMILES, LL.D.
AUTHOR OF 'SELF-HELP,' ETC.
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1905
[Illustration: OUTWARD BOUND. _See_ p. 27.]
PREFACE.
I have had pleasure in editing this little book, not only because it
is the work of my youngest son, but also because it contains the
results of a good deal of experience of life under novel aspects, as
seen by young, fresh, and observant eyes.
How the book came to be written is as follows: The boy, whose two
years' narrative forms the subject of these pages, was at the age of
sixteen seized with inflammation of the lungs, from which he was
recovering so slowly and unsatisfactorily, that I was advised by
London physicians to take him from the business he was then learning
in Yorkshire, and send him on a long sea voyage. Australia was
recommended, because of the considerable time occupied in making the
voyage by sailing ship, and also because of the comparatively genial
and uniform temperature while at sea.
He was accordingly sent out to Melbourne by one of Money Wigram's
ships in the winter of 1868-9, with directions either to return by the
same ship or, if the opportunity presented itself, to remain for a
time in the colony. It will be found, from his own narrative that,
having obtained some suitable employment, he decided to adopt the
latter course; and for a period of about eighteen months he resided at
Majorca, an up-country township situated in the gold-mining district
of Victoria.
When his health had become re-established, he was directed to return
home, about the beginning of the present year; and he resolved to make
the return voyage by the Pacific route, _via_ Honolulu and San
Francisco, and to proceed from thence by railway across the Rocky
Mountains to New York.
While at sea, the boy kept a full log, intended for the perusal of his
relatives at home; and while on land, he corresponded with them
regularly and fully, never missing a mail. He had not the remotest
idea that anything which he saw and described during his absence would
ever appear in a book. But since his return, it has occurred to the
Editor of these pages that the information they contain will probably
be found interesting to a wider circle of readers than that to which
the letters were originally addressed; and in that belief, the
substance of them is here reproduced, the Editor's work having
consisted mainly in arranging the materials, leaving the writer to
tell his own story as much as possible in his own way, and in his own
words.
S. S.
_London, November_, 1871.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
DOWN CHANNEL. 1
AT GRAVESEND--TAKING IN STORES--FIRST NIGHT ON BOARD--"THE
ANCHOR'S UP"--OFF BRIGHTON--CHANGE OF WIND--GALE
IN THE CHANNEL--THE ABANDONED SHIP--THE EDDYSTONE--PLYMOUTH
HARBOUR--DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND
CHAPTER II.
FLYING SOUTH. 10
FELLOW-PASSENGERS--LIFE ON BOARD SHIP--PROGRESS OF THE
SHIP--HER HANDLING--A FINE RUN DOWN TO THE LINE--SHIP'S
AMUSEMENTS--CLIMBING THE MIZEN--THE CAPE DE VERD
ISLANDS--SAN ANTONIO
CHAPTER III.
WITHIN THE TROPICS. 22
INCREASE OF TEMPERATURE--FLYING FISH--THE MORNING BATH
ON BOARD--PAYING "FOOTINGS"--THE MAJOR'S WONDERFUL
STORIES--ST. PATRICK'S DAY--GRAMPUSES--A SHIP IN
SIGHT--THE 'LORD RAGLAN'--RAIN-FALL IN THE TROPICS--TROPICAL
SUNSETS--THE YANKEE WHALER
CHAPTER IV.
THE 'BLUE JACKET.' 32
APRIL FOOLS' DAY--A SHIP IN SIGHT--THE 'PYRMONT'--THE
RESCUED 'BLUE JACKET' PASSENGERS--STORY OF THE BURNT
SHIP--SUFFERING OF THE LADY PASSENGERS IN AN OPEN
BOAT--THEIR RESCUE--DISTRESSING SCENE ON BOARD THE 'PYRMONT'
CHAPTER V.
IN THE SOUTH ATLANTIC. 41
PREPARING FOR ROUGH WEATHER--THE 'GEORGE THOMPSON' CLIPPER--A
RACE AT SEA--SCENE FROM 'PICKWICK' ACTED--FISHING FOR
ALBATROSS--DISSECTION AND DIVISION OF THE BIRD--WHALES--STRONG
GALE--SMASH IN THE CABIN--SHIPPING A GREEN SEA--THE SEA BIRDS
IN OUR WAKE--THE CROZET ISLANDS
CHAPTER VI.
NEARING AUSTRALIA--THE LANDING. 54
ACTING ON BOARD--THE CYCLONE--CLEANING THE SHIP FOR
PORT--CONTRARY WINDS--AUSTRALIA IN SIGHT--CAPE OTWAY--PORT
PHILLIP HEADS--PILOT TAKEN ON BOARD--INSIDE THE
HEADS--WILLIAMSTOWN--SANDRIDGE--THE LANDING
CHAPTER VII.
MELBOURNE. 60
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF MELBOURNE--SURVEY OF THE CITY--THE
STREETS--COLLINS STREET--THE TRAFFIC--NEWNESS AND YOUNGNESS
OF MELBOURNE--ABSENCE OF BEGGARS--MELBOURNE AN ENGLISH
CITY--THE CHINESE QUARTER--THE PUBLIC LIBRARY--PENTRIDGE
PRISON--THE YARRA RIVER--ST. KILDA--SOCIAL EXPERIENCES IN
MELBOURNE--A MARRIAGE BALL--MELBOURNE LADIES--VISIT TO A
SERIOUS FAMILY
CHAPTER VIII.
UP COUNTRY. 76
OBTAIN A SITUATION IN AN UP-COUNTRY BANK--JOURNEY BY
RAIL--CASTLEMAINE--FURTHER JOURNEY BY COACH--MARYBOROUGH--FIRST
SIGHT OF THE BUSH--THE BUSH TRACKS--EVENING PROSPECT OVER THE
COUNTRY--ARRIVAL AT MY DESTINATION
CHAPTER IX.
MAJORCA. 85
MAJORCA FOUNDED IN A RUSH--DESCRIPTION OF A RUSH--DIGGERS
CAMPING OUT--GOLD-MINING AT MAJORCA--MAJORCA HIGH
STREET--THE PEOPLE--THE INNS--THE CHURCHES--THE BANK--THE
CHINAMEN--AUSTRALIA THE PARADISE OF WORKING MEN--"SHOUTING"
FOR DRINKS--ABSENCE OF BEGGARS--NO COPPERS UP COUNTRY
CHAPTER X.
MY NEIGHBOURHOOD AND NEIGHBOURS. 96
"DINING OUT"--DIGGERS' SUNDAY DINNER--THE OLD WORKINGS--THE
CHINAMEN'S GARDENS--CHINAMEN'S DWELLINGS--THE CEMETERY--THE
HIGH PLAINS--THE BUSH--A RIDE THROUGH THE BUSH--THE SAVOYARD
WOODCUTTER--VISIT TO A SQUATTER
CHAPTER XI.
AUSTRALIAN WINTER--THE FLOODS. 107
THE VICTORIAN CLIMATE--THE BUSH IN WINTER--THE EUCALYPTUS
OR AUSTRALIAN GUM-TREE--BALL AT CLUNES--FIRE IN THE MAIN
STREET--THE BUGGY SAVED--DOWN-POUR OF RAIN--GOING HOME BY
WATER--THE FLOODS OUT--CLUNES SUBMERGED--CALAMITY AT
BALLARAT--DAMAGE DONE BY THE FLOOD--THE CHINAMEN'S GARDENS
WASHED AWAY
CHAPTER XII.
SPRING, SUMMER, AND HARVEST. 116
SPRING VEGETATION--THE BUSH IN SPRING--GARDEN FLOWERS--AN
EVENING WALK--AUSTRALIAN MOONLIGHT--THE HOT NORTH WIND--THE
PLAGUE OF FLIES--BUSH FIRES--SUMMER AT CHRISTMAS--AUSTRALIAN
FRUITS--ASCENT OF MOUNT GREENOCK--AUSTRALIAN WINE--HARVEST--A
SQUATTER'S FARM--HARVEST HOME CELEBRATION--AURORA
AUSTRALIS--AUTUMN RAINS
CHAPTER XIII.
BUSH ANIMALS--BIRDS--SNAKES. 131
THE 'POSSUM--A NIGHT'S SPORT IN THE BUSH--MUSQUITOES--WATTLE
BIRDS--THE PIPING-CROW--"MINERS"--PAROQUET-HUNTING--THE
SOUTHERN CROSS--SNAKES--MARSUPIAL ANIMALS
CHAPTER XIV.
GOLD-BUYING AND GOLD-MINING. 140
HOW THE GOLD IS FOUND--GOLD-WASHING--QUARTZ-CRUSHING--BUYING
GOLD FROM CHINAMEN--ALLUVIAL COMPANIES--BROKEN-DOWN
MEN--UPS AND DOWNS IN GOLD-MINING--VISIT TO A GOLD
MINE--GOLD-SEEKING--DIGGERS' TALES OF LUCKY FINDS
CHAPTER XV.
ROUGH LIFE AT THE DIGGINGS--"STOP THIEF!" 153
GOLD-RUSHING--DIGGERS' CAMP AT HAVELOCK--MURDER OF
LOPEZ--PURSUIT AND CAPTURE OF THE MURDERER--THE THIEVES
HUNTED FROM THE CAMP--DEATH OF THE MURDERER--THE
POLICE--ATTEMPTED ROBBERY OF THE COLLINGWOOD BANK--ANOTHER
SUPPOSED ROBBERY--"STOP THIEF!"--SMART USE OF THE TELEGRAPH
CHAPTER XVI.
PLACES ABOUT. 163
VISIT TO BALLARAT--THE JOURNEY BY COACH--BALLARAT
FOUNDED ON GOLD--DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN--BALLARAT
"CORNER"--THE SPECULATIVE COBBLER--FIRE BRIGADES--RETURN
JOURNEY--CRAB-HOLES--THE TALBOT BALL--THE TALBOT
FETE--THE AVOCA RACES--SUNRISE IN THE BUSH
CHAPTER XVII.
CONCLUSION OF MAJORCAN LIFE. 179
VICTORIAN LIFE ENGLISH--ARRIVAL OF THE HOME MAIL--NEWS OF
THE FRANCO-GERMAN WAR--THE GERMAN SETTLERS IN MAJORCA--THE
SINGLE FRENCHMAN--MAJORCAN PUBLIC TEAS--THE CHURCH--THE
RANTERS--THE TEETOTALLERS--THE COMMON SCHOOL--THE ROMAN
CATHOLICS--COMMON SCHOOL FETE AND ENTERTAINMENT--THE
MECHANICS' INSTITUTE--FUNERAL OF THE TOWN CLERK--DEPARTURE
FROM MAJORCA--THE COLONY OF VICTORIA
CHAPTER XVIII.
ROUND TO SYDNEY. 190
LAST CHRISTMAS IN AUSTRALIA--START BY STEAMER FOR SYDNEY--THE
'GREAT BRITAIN'--CHEAP TRIPS TO QUEENSCLIFFE--ROUGH
WEATHER AT SEA--MR. AND MRS. C. MATHEWS--BOTANY BAY--OUTER
SOUTH HEAD--PORT JACKSON--SYDNEY COVE--DESCRIPTION OF
SYDNEY--GOVERNMENT HOUSE AND DOMAIN--GREAT FUTURE EMPIRE OF
THE SOUTH
CHAPTER XIX.
TO AUCKLAND, IN NEW ZEALAND. 202
LEAVING SYDNEY--ANCHOR WITHIN THE HEADS--TAKE IN MAILS
AND PASSENGERS FROM THE 'CITY OF ADELAIDE'--OUT TO SEA
AGAIN--SIGHT NEW ZEALAND--ENTRANCE TO AUCKLAND HARBOUR--THE
'GALATEA'--DESCRIPTION OF AUCKLAND--FOUNDING OF
AUCKLAND DUE TO A JOB--MAORI MEN AND WOMEN--DRIVE TO
ONEHUNGA--SPLENDID VIEW--AUCKLAND GALA--NEW ZEALAND
DELAYS--LEAVE FOR HONOLULU
CHAPTER XX.
UP THE PACIFIC. 212
DEPARTURE FOR HONOLULU--MONOTONY OF A VOYAGE BY
STEAM--DESAGREMENS--THE "GENTLEMEN" PASSENGERS--THE ONE
SECOND CLASS "LADY"--THE RATS ON BOARD--THE SMELLS--FLYING
FISH--CROSS THE LINE--TREATMENT OF NEWSPAPERS ON
BOARD--HAWAII IN SIGHT--ARRIVAL AT HONOLULU
CHAPTER XXI.
HONOLULU AND THE ISLAND OF OAHU. 220
THE HARBOUR OF HONOLULU--IMPORTANCE OF ITS SITUATION--THE
CITY--CHURCHES AND THEATRES--THE POST OFFICE--THE
SUBURBS--THE KING'S PALACE--THE NUUANU VALLEY--POI--PEOPLE
COMING DOWN THE VALLEY--THE PALI--PROSPECT FROM THE
CLIFFS--THE NATIVES (KANAKAS)--DIVERS--THE WOMEN--DRINK
PROHIBITION--THE CHINESE--THEATRICALS--MUSQUITOES
CHAPTER XXII.
HONOLULU TO SAN FRANCISCO. 237
DEPARTURE FROM HONOLULU--WRECK OF THE 'SAGINAW'--THE 'MOSES
TAYLOR'--THE ACCOMMODATION--THE COMPANY ON BOARD--BEHAVIOUR
OF THE SHIP--DEATH OF A PASSENGER--FEELINGS ON LANDING IN A
NEW PLACE--APPROACH THE GOLDEN GATE--CLOSE OF THE PACIFIC
LOG--FIRST SIGHT OF AMERICA
CHAPTER XXIII.
SAN FRANCISCO TO SACRAMENTO. 244
LANDING AT SAN FRANCISCO--THE GOLDEN CITY--THE STREETS--THE
BUSINESS QUARTER--THE CHINESE QUARTER--THE TOUTERS--LEAVE
SAN FRANCISCO--THE FERRY-BOAT TO OAKLAND--THE BAY OF SAN
FRANCISCO--LANDING ON THE EASTERN SHORE--AMERICAN RAILWAY
CARRIAGES--THE PULLMAN'S CARS--SLEEPING BERTHS--UNSAVOURY
CHINAMEN--THE COUNTRY--CITY OF SACRAMENTO
CHAPTER XXIV.
ACROSS THE SIERRA NEVADA. 255
RAPID ASCENT--THE TRESTLE-BRIDGES--MOUNTAIN
PROSPECTS--"PLACERS"--SUNSET--CAPE HORN--ALTA--THE SIERRAS
BY NIGHT--CONTRAST OF TEMPERATURES--THE SNOW-SHEDS--THE
SUMMIT--RENO--BREAKFAST AT HUMBOLDT--THE SAGE-BRUSH--BATTLE
MOUNT--SHOSHONIE INDIANS--TEN MILE CANYON--ELKO STATION--GREAT
AMERICAN DESERT--ARRIVAL AT OGDEN
CHAPTER XXV.
ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 265
START BY TRAIN FOR OMAHA--MY FELLOW-PASSENGERS--PASSAGE
THROUGH THE DEVIL'S GATE--WEBER CANYON--FANTASTIC
ROCKS--"THOUSAND MILE TREE"--ECHO CANYON--MORE
TRESTLE-BRIDGES--SUNSET AMIDST THE BLUFFS--A WINTRY NIGHT
BY RAIL--SNOW-FENCES AND SNOW-SHEDS--LARAMIE CITY--RED
BUTTES--THE SUMMIT AT SHERMAN--CHEYENNE CITY--THE WESTERN
PRAIRIE IN WINTER--PRAIRIE DOG CITY--THE VALLEY OF THE
PLATTE--GRAND ISLAND--CROSS THE NORTH FORK OF THE
PLATTE--ARRIVAL IN OMAHA
CHAPTER XXVI.
OMAHA TO CHICAGO. 275
OMAHA TERMINUS--CROSS THE MISSOURI--COUNCIL BLUFFS--THE
FOREST--CROSS THE MISSISSIPPI--THE CULTIVATED PRAIRIE--THE
FARMSTEADS AND VILLAGES--APPROACH TO CHICAGO--THE
CITY OF CHICAGO--ENTERPRISE OF ITS MEN--THE WATER TUNNELS
UNDER LAKE MICHIGAN--TUNNELS UNDER THE RIVER CHICAGO--UNION
OF LAKE MICHIGAN WITH THE MISSISSIPPI--DESCRIPTION OF THE
STREETS AND BUILDINGS OF CHICAGO--PIGS AND CORN--THE
AVENUE--SLEIGHING--THEATRES AND CHURCHES
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHICAGO TO NEW YORK. 287
LEAVE CHICAGO--THE ICE HARVEST--MICHIGAN CITY--THE
FOREST--A RAILWAY SMASHED--KALAMAZOO--DETROIT--CROSSING
INTO CANADA--AMERICAN MANNERS--ROEBLING'S SUSPENSION
BRIDGE--NIAGARA FALLS IN WINTER--GOAT ISLAND--THE
AMERICAN FALL--THE GREAT HORSE-SHOE FALL--THE RAPIDS
FROM THE LOVERS' SEAT--AMERICAN COUSINS--ROCHESTER--NEW
YORK--A CATASTROPHE--RETURN HOME
INDEX 301
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
The 'Yorkshire,' Outward Bound _Frontispiece_
Map of the Ship's Course, Plymouth to Melbourne _Page_ 50-51
View of Melbourne, Victoria 60
Map of the Gold-Mining District, Victoria 78
View of Sydney, Port Jackson 190
View of Auckland, New Zealand 202
Map of the Ship's Course up the Pacific 213
Maps of Auckland, and Sydney, Port Jackson 213
View of Honolulu, Sandwich Islands 220
Map of Oahu, Sandwich Islands 222
Maps of Atlantic and Pacific Railways 248-249; 276-277
View of Niagara Falls--American side 287
ROUND THE WORLD.
CHAPTER I.
DOWN CHANNEL.
AT GRAVESEND--TAKING IN STORES--FIRST NIGHT ON BOARD--"THE ANCHOR'S
UP"--OFF BRIGHTON--CHANGE OF WIND--GALE IN THE CHANNEL--THE ABANDONED
SHIP--THE EDDYSTONE--PLYMOUTH HARBOUR--DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND.
_20th February: At Gravesend._--My last farewells are over, my last
adieus are waved to friends on shore, and I am alone on board the ship
'Yorkshire,' bound for Melbourne. Everything is in confusion on board.
The decks are littered with stores, vegetables, hen-coops, sheep-pens,
and coils of rope. There is quite a little crowd of sailors round the
capstan in front of the cabin door. Two officers, with lists before
them, are calling over the names of men engaged to make up our
complement of hands, and appointing them to their different watches.
Though the ship is advertised to sail this evening, the stores are by
no means complete. The steward is getting in lots of cases; and what a
quantity of pickles! Hens are coming up to fill the hen-coops. More
sheep are being brought; there are many on board already; and here
comes our milk-cow over the ship's side, gently hoisted up by a rope.
The animal seems amazed; but she is in skilful hands. "Let go!" calls
out the boatswain, as the cow swings in mid-air; away rattles the
chain round the wheel of the donkey-engine, and the break is put on
just in time to land Molly gently on the deck. In a minute she is snug
in her stall "for'ard," just by the cook's galley.
Passengers are coming on board. Here is one mounting the ship's side,
who has had a wet passage from the shore. A seaman lends him a hand,
and he reaches the sloppy, slippery deck with difficulty.
It is a dismal day. The sleet and rain come driving down. Everything
is raw and cold; everybody wet or damp. The passengers in wet
mackintoshes, and the seamen in wet tarpaulins; Gravesend, with its
dirty side to the river, and its dreary mud-bank exposed to sight; the
alternate drizzle and down-pour; the muddle and confusion of the
deck;--all this presented anything but an agreeable picture to look
at. So I speedily leave the deck, in order to make a better
acquaintance with what is to be my home for the next three months.
First, there is the saloon--long and narrow--surrounded by the cabins.
It is our dining-room, drawing-room, and parlour, all in one. A long
table occupies the centre, fitted all round with fixed seats and
reversible backs. At one end of the table is the captain's chair, over
which hangs a clock and a barometer. Near the after end of the saloon
is the mizen-mast, which passes through into the hole below, and rests
on the keelson.
The cabins, which surround the saloon, are separated from it by open
woodwork, for purposes of ventilation. The entrances to them from the
saloon are by sliding doors. They are separated from each other by
folding-doors, kept bolted on either side when one cabin only is
occupied; but these can be opened when the neighbours on both sides
are agreeable.
My own little cabin is by no means dreary or uninviting. A window,
with six small panes, lets in light and air; and outside is a strong
board, or "dead-light," for use in rough weather, to protect the
glass. My bunk, next to the saloon, is covered with a clean white
counterpane. A little wash-stand occupies the corner; a shelf of
favourite books is over my bed-head; and a swing-lamp by its side.
Then there is my little mirror, my swing-tray for bottles, and a
series of little bags suspended from nails, containing all sorts of
odds and ends. In short, my little chamber, so fitted up, looks quite
cheerful and even jolly.
It grows dusk, and there is still the same bustle and turmoil on deck.
All are busy; everybody is in a hurry. At about nine the noise seems
to subside; and the deck seems getting into something like order. As
we are not to weigh anchor until five in the morning, some of the
passengers land for a stroll on shore. I decide to go to bed.
And now begins my first difficulty. I cannot find room to extend
myself, or even to turn. I am literally "cribbed, cabined, and
confined." Then there are the unfamiliar noises outside,--the cackling
of the ducks, the baa-ing of the sheep, the grunting of the
pigs,--possibly discussing the novelty of their position. And, nearly
all through the night, just outside my cabin, two or three of the
seamen sit talking together in gruff undertones.
I don't think I slept much during my first night on board. I was lying
semi-conscious, when a loud voice outside woke me up in an
instant--"The anchor's up! she's away!" I jumped up, and, looking out
of my little cabin window, peered out into the grey dawn. The shores
seemed moving, and we were off! I dressed at once, and went on deck.
But how raw and chill it felt as I went up the companion-ladder. A
little steam-tug ahead of us was under weigh, with the 'Yorkshire' in
tow. The deck was now pretty well cleared, but white with frost; while
the river banks were covered with snow.
Other ships were passing down stream, each with its tug; but we soon
distanced them all, especially when the men flung the sails to the
wind, now blowing fresh. At length, in about three-quarters of an
hour, the steamer took on board her tow-rope, and left us to proceed
on our voyage with a fair light breeze in our favour, and all our
canvas set.
When off the Nore, we hailed the 'Norfolk,' homeward bound--a fast
clipper ship belonging to the same firm (Money Wigram's line),--and a
truly grand sight she was under full sail. There were great cheerings
and wavings of hats,--she passing up the river and we out to sea.
I need not detain you with a description of my voyage down Channel. We
passed in succession Margate, Ramsgate, and Deal. The wind kept
favourable until we sighted Beachy Head, about half-past five in the
evening, and then it nearly died away. We were off Brighton when the
moon rose. The long stretch of lights along shore, the clear star-lit
sky, the bright moon, the ship gently rocking in the almost calm sea,
the sails idly flapping against the mast,--formed a picture of quiet
during my first night at sea, which I shall not soon forget.
But all this, I was told, was but "weather-breeding;" and it was
predicted that we were to have a change. The glass was falling and we
were to look out for squalls. Nor were the squalls long in coming.
Early next morning I was roused by the noise on deck and the rolling
of things about my cabin floor. I had some difficulty in dressing, not
having yet found my sea legs; but I succeeded in gaining the
companion-ladder and reaching the poop.
I found the wind had gone quite round in the night, and was now
blowing hard in our teeth, from the south-west. It was to be a case of
tacking down Channel,--a slow and, for landsmen, a very trying
process. In the midst of my first _mal de mer_, I was amused by the
appearance on board of one of my fellow-passengers. He was a small, a
very small individual, but possessed of a large stock of clothes,
which he was evidently glad to have an opportunity of exhibiting. He
first came up with a souwester on his head, the wrong end foremost,
and a pair of canvas shoes on his feet,--a sort of miniature Micawber,
or first-class cockney "salt," about to breast the briny. This small
person's long nose, large ears, and open mouth added to the
ludicrousness of his appearance. As the decks were wet and the morning
cold, he found the garb somewhat unsuitable, and dived below, to come
up again in strong boots and a straw hat. But after further
consideration, he retired again, and again he appeared in fresh
headgear--a huge seal-skin cap with lappets coming down over his ears.
This important and dressy little individual was a source of
considerable amusement to us; and there was scarcely an article in his
wardrobe that had not its turn during the day.
All night it blew a gale; the wind still from the same quarter. We
kept tacking between the coast of England and the opposite coast of
France, making but small way as regards mileage,--the wind being right
in our teeth. During the night, each time that the ship was brought
round on the other tack, there was usually a tremendous lurch; and
sometimes an avalanche of books descended upon me from the shelf
overhead. Yet I slept pretty soundly. Once I was awakened by a
tremendous noise outside--something like a gun going off. I afterwards
found it had been occasioned by the mainsail being blown away to sea,
right out of the bolt-ropes, the fastenings of which were immediately
outside my cabin window.
When I went on deck the wind was still blowing hard, and one had to
hold on to ropes or cleats to be able to stand. The whole sea was
alive, waves chasing waves and bounding over each other, crested with
foam. Now and then the ship would pitch her prow into a wave, even to
the bulwarks, dash the billow aside, and buoyantly rise again, bowling
along, though under moderate sail, because of the force of the gale.
The sea has some sad sights, of which one shortly presented itself.
About midday the captain sighted a vessel at some distance off on our
weather bow, flying a flag of distress--an ensign upside down. Our
ship was put about, and as we neared the vessel we found she had been
abandoned, and was settling fast in the water. Two or three of her
sails were still set, torn to shreds by the storm. The bulwarks were
pretty much gone, and here and there the bare stanchions, or posts,
were left standing, splitting in two the waves which broke clear over
her deck, lying almost even with the sea. She turned out to be the
'Rosa,' of Guernsey, a fine barque of 700 tons, and she had been
caught and disabled by the storm we had ourselves encountered. As
there did not seem to be a living thing on board, and we could be of
no use, we sailed away; and she must have gone down shortly after we
left her. Not far from the sinking ship we came across a boat bottom
upwards, most probably belonging to the abandoned ship. What of the
poor seamen? Have they been saved by other boats, or been taken off by
some passing vessel? If not, alas for their wives and children at
home! Indeed it was a sad sight.
But such things are soon forgotten at sea. We are too much occupied
by our own experiences to think much of others. For two more weary
days we went tacking about, the wind somewhat abating. Sometimes we
caught sight of the French coast through the mist; and then we tacked
back again. At length Eddystone light came in view, and we knew we
were not far from the entrance to Plymouth Sound. Once inside the
Breakwater, we felt ourselves in smooth water again.
Going upon deck in the morning, I found our ship anchored in the
harbour nearly opposite Mount Edgcumbe. Nothing could be more lovely
than the sight that presented itself. The noble bay, surrounded by
rocks, cliffs, cottages--Drake's Island, bristling with cannon,
leaving open a glimpse into the Hamoaze studded with great hulks of
old war-ships--the projecting points of Mount Edgcumbe Park, carpeted
with green turf down to the water and fringed behind by noble woods,
looking like masses of emerald cut into fret-work--then, in the
distance, the hills of Dartmoor, variegated with many hues, and swept
with alternations of light and shade--all these presented a picture,
the like of which I had never before seen and feel myself quite
incompetent to describe.
As we had to wait here for a fair wind, and the gale was still blowing
right into the harbour's mouth, there seemed no probability of our
setting sail very soon. We had, moreover, to make up our complement of
passengers, and provisions. Those who had a mind accordingly went on
shore, strolled through the town, and visited the Hoe, from which a
magnificent view of the harbour is obtained, or varied their bill of
fare by dining at an hotel.
We were, however, cautioned not to sleep on shore, but to return to
the ship for the night, and even during the day to keep a sharp
look-out for the wind; for, immediately on a change to the nor'ard, no
time would be lost in putting out to sea. We were further informed
that, in the case of nearly every ship, passengers, through their own
carelessness and dilly-dallying on shore, had been left behind. I
determined, therefore, to stick to the ship.
After three days' weary waiting, the wind at last went round; the
anchor was weighed with a willing "Yo! heave ho!" and in a few hours,
favoured by a fine light breeze, we were well out to sea, and the
brown cliffs of Old England gradually faded away in the distance.