Part 3

On soundings. A fog and a calm. Sky yellow, sea grey, dripping, damp, dingy, dark, and very disagreeable. Sat working, reading, and talking in our own cabin all day. Read part of a book called Adventures of a Younger Son. The gentlemen amused themselves with fishing, and brought up sundry hake and dog-fish. I examined the heart of one of the fish, and was surprised at the long continuance of pulsation after the cessation of existence. In the evening, sang, talked, and played French blind man's buff;--sat working till near one o'clock, and reading Moore's Fudge Family,--which is good fun. It's too hard to be becalmed within thirty hours of our destination.

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Why art thou weeping Over the happy, happy dead, Who are gone away From this life of clay, From this fount of tears, From this burthen of years, From sin, from sorrow, From sad "to-morrow," From struggling and creeping: Why art thou weeping, Oh fool, for the dead?

Why art thou weeping Over the steadfast faithful dead, Who can never change, Nor grow cold and strange,

Nor turn away, In a single day, From the love they bore, And the faith they swore; Who are true for ever, Will slight thee never, But love thee still, Through good and ill, With the constancy Of eternity: Why art thou weeping, Oh fool, for the dead?

They are your only friends; For where this foul life ends, Alone beginneth truth, and love, and faith; All which sweet blossoms are preserved by death.

_Saturday, 31st._

Becalmed again till about two o'clock, when a fair wind sprang up, and we set to rolling before it like mad. How curious it is to see the ship, like a drunken man, reel through the waters, pursued by that shrill scold the wind! Worked at my handkerchief, and read aloud to them Mrs. Jameson's book.

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Set my foot half into a discussion about Portia, but withdrew it in time. Lord bless us! what foul nonsense people do talk, and what much fouler nonsense it is to answer them. Got very sick, and lay on the ground till dinner-time; went to table, but withdrew again while it was yet in my power to do so gracefully. Lay on the floor all the evening, singing for very sea-sickness; suddenly it occurred to me, that it was our last Saturday night on board; whereupon I indited a song to the tune of "To Ladies' eyes a round, boys,"--and having duly instructed Mr. ---- how to "speak the speech," we went to supper. _Last_--_last_--dear, what is there in that word! I don't know one of this ship's company, don't care for some of them--I have led a loathsome life in it for a month past, and yet the _last_ Saturday night seemed half sad to me. Mr. ---- sang my song and kept my secret: the song was encored, and my father innocently demanded the author; I gave him a tremendous pinch, and looked very silly. Merit, like murder, will out; so I fancy that when they drank the health of the author, the whole table was aware of the genius that sat among them. They afterwards sang a clever parody of "To all ye ladies now on land," by Mr. ----, the "canny Scot," who has kept himself so quiet all the way. Came to bed at about half-past twelve: while undressing, I heard the captain come down stairs, and announce that we were clear of Nantucket shoal, and within one hundred and fifty miles of New York, which intelligence was received with three cheers. They continued to sing and shout till very late.

SATURDAY NIGHT SONG.

Come, fill the can again, boys, One parting glass, one parting glass; Ere we shall meet again, boys, Long years may pass, long years may pass. We'll drink the gallant bark, boys, That's borne us through, that's borne us through, Bright waves and billows dark, boys, Our ship and crew, our ship and crew.

We'll drink those eyes that bright, boys, With smiling ray, with smiling ray, Have shone like stars to light, boys, Our watery way, our watery way. We'll drink our English home, boys, Our father land, our father land, And the shores to which we're come, boys, A sister strand, a sister strand.

_Sunday, September 2d._

Rose at half-past six: the sun was shining brilliantly; woke H---- and went on deck with her. The morning was glorious, the sun had risen two hours in the sky, the sea was cut by a strong breeze, and curled into ridges that came like emerald banks crowned with golden spray round our ship; she was going through the water at nine knots an hour. I sat and watched the line of light that lay like a fairy road to the east--towards my country, my dear dear home.

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Breakfasted at table for the first time since I've been on board the ship--I did hope, the last. After breakfast, put my things to rights, tidied our cabin for prayers, and began looking out the lessons; while doing so, the joyful sound, "Land, land!" was heard aloft. I rushed on deck, and between the blue waveless sea, and the bright unclouded sky, lay the wished-for line of darker element. 'Twas Long Island: through a glass I descried the undulations of the coast, and even the trees that stood relieved against the sky. Hail, strange land! my heart greets you coldly and sadly! Oh, how I thought of Columbus, as with eyes strained and on tiptoe our water-weary passengers stood, after a summer's sail of thirty days, welcoming their mother earth! The day was heavenly, though intensely hot, the sky utterly cloudless, and, by that same token, I do not love a cloudless sky. They tell me that this is their American weather almost till Christmas; that's nice, for those who like frying. Commend me to dear England's soft, rich, sad, harmonious skies and foliage--commend me to the misty curtain of silver vapour that hangs over her September woods at morning, and shrouds them at night;--in short, I am home-sick before touching land. After lunch, my father read prayers to us, and that excellent sermon of dear Mr. Thurstone's on taking the sacrament. After prayers, came on deck; there were two or three sails in sight--hailed a schooner which passed us--bad news of the cholera--pleasant this--walked about, collected goods and chattels, wrote journal, spent some time in seeing a couple of geese take a sea-swim with strings tied to their legs. After dinner, sat in my cabin some time--walked on deck; when the gentlemen joined us, we danced the sun down, and the moon up. The sky was like the jewel-shop of angels; I never saw such brilliant stars, nor so deep an azure to hang them in. The moon was grown powerful, and flooded the deck, where we sat playing at blind man's buff, magic music, and singing, and talking of shore till midnight, when we came to bed. I must not forget how happy an omen greeted us this morning. As we stood watching the "_dolce color di oriental zaffiro_," one of the wild wood pigeons of America flew round our mizen-mast, and alighted on the top-sail yard;--this was the first living creature which welcomed us to the New World, and it pleased my superstitious fancy. I would have given any thing to have caught the bird, but, after resting itself awhile, it took flight again and left us. We were talking to-day to one of our steerage passengers, a Huddersfield manufacturer, going out in quest of a living, with five children of his own to take care of, and two nephews. The father of the latter, said our Yorkshireman, having married a second time, and these poor children being as it were "_thristen_ (thrust) out into the world loike--whoy oi jist took care of them." Verily, verily, he will have his reward--these tender mercies of the poor to one another are beautiful, and most touching.

_Monday, September 3d._

I had desired the mate to call me by sunrise, and accordingly, in the midst of a very sound and satisfactory sleep, Mr. Curtis shook me roughly by the arm, informing me that the sun was just about to rise. The glorious god was quicker at his toilet than I at mine; for though I did but put on a dressing-gown and cloak, I found him come out of his eastern chamber, arrayed like a bridegroom, without a single beam missing. I called H----, and we remained on deck watching the clouds like visions of brightness and beauty, enchanted creations of some strange spell-land--at every moment assuming more fantastic shapes and gorgeous tints. Dark rocks seemed to rise, with dazzling summits of light pale lakes of purest blue spread here and there between--the sun now shining through a white wreath of floating silver, now firing, with a splendour that the eye shrank from, the edges of some black cloudy mass. Oh, it was surpassing!--We were becalmed, however, which rather damped all our spirits, and half made the captain swear. Towards mid-day we had to thank Heaven for an incident. A brig had been standing aft against the horizon for some hours past, and we presently descried a boat rowing from her towards us. The distance was some five miles, the sun broiling; we telescoped and stood on tiptoe; they rowed stoutly, and in due time boarded us. She was an English brig from Bristol, had been out eleven weeks, distressed by contrary winds, and was in want of provisions. The boat's crew was presently surrounded, grog was given the men, porter to the captain and his companion. Our dear captain supplied them with every thing they wanted, and our poor steerage passengers sent their mite to the distressed crew in the shape of a sack of potatoes; they remained half an hour on board, we clustering round them, questioning and answering might and main. As H---- said, they were new faces at least, and, though two of the most ill-favoured physiognomies I ever set eyes on, there was something refreshing even in their ugly novelty. After this the whole day was one of continual excitement, nearing the various points of land, greeting vessels passing us, and watching those bound on the same course. At about four o'clock a schooner came alongside with a news-collector; he was half devoured with queries; news of the cholera, reports of the tariff and bank questions, were loudly demanded: poor people, how anxiously they looked for replies to the first! Mr. ----, upon whose arm I leant, turned pale as death while asking how it had visited Boston. Poor fellow! poor people all! my heart ached with their anxiety. As the evening darkened, the horizon became studded with sails; at about eight o'clock we discovered the Highlands of Neversink, the entrance to New York harbour, and presently the twin lights of Sandy Hook glimmered against the sky. We were all in high spirits; a fresh breeze had sprung up, we were making rapidly to land; the lovely ship, with all sail set, courtesying along the smooth waters. The captain alone seemed anxious, and was eagerly looking out for the pilot. Some had gathered to the ship's side, to watch the progress of Colonel ----, who had left us and gone into the news-boat, which was dancing like a fairy by the side of our dark vessel. Cheering resounded on all sides, rockets were fired from the ship's stern, we were all dancing, when suddenly a cry was echoed round of "A pilot, a pilot!" and close under the ship's side a light graceful little schooner shot like an arrow through the dim twilight, followed by a universal huzza; she tacked, and lay to, but proved only a news-boat: while, however, all were gathered round the collector, the pilot-boat came alongside, and the pilot on board; the captain gave up the cares and glories of command, and we danced an interminable country dance. All was excitement and joyous confusion; poor Mr. ---- alone seemed smitten with sudden anxiety; the cholera reports had filled him with alarm, lest his agent should have died, and his affairs on his arrival be in confusion and ruin--poor fellow! I was very sorry for him. We went down to supper at ten, and were very merry, in spite of the ship's bumping twice or thrice upon the sands. Came up and dawdled upon deck--saw them cast anchor; away went the chain, down dropped the heavy stay, the fair ship swung round, and there lay New York before us, with its clustered lights shining like a distant constellation against the dark outline of land. Remained on deck till very late--were going to bed, when the gentlemen entreated us to join their party once more; we did so, sang all the old songs, laughed at all the old jokes, drank our own and each other's health, wealth, and prosperity, and came to bed at two o'clock. Our cradle rocks no longer, but lies still on the still waters; we have reached our destination; I thank God! I did so with all my soul.

_Tuesday, September 4th, New York, America._

It is true, by my faith! it is true; there it is written, here I sit, I am myself and no other, this is New York and nowhere else--Oh! "singular, strange!" Our passengers were all stirring and about at peep of day, and I got up myself at half past six. Trunks lay scattered in every direction around, and all were busily preparing to leave the good ship Pacific. Mercy on us! it made me sad to leave her and my shipmates. I feel like a wretch swept down a river to the open sea, and catch at the last boughs that hang over the banks to stay me from that wide loneliness. The morning was real Manchester. I believe some of the passengers had brought the fog and rain in their English clothes, which they were all putting on, together with best hats, dandy cravats, etc.--to make a _sensation_. A fog hung over the shores of Staten Island and Long Island, in spite of which, and a dreary, heavy, thick rain, I thought the hilly outline of the former very beautiful; the trees and grass were rather sunburnt, but in a fair spring day I should think it must be lovely. We breakfasted, and packed ourselves into our shawls and bonnets, and at half-past nine the steam-boat came alongside to take us to shore: it was different from any English steam-boat I ever saw, having three decks, and being consequently a vessel of very considerable size. We got on board her all in the rain and misery, and, as we drifted on, our passengers collected to the side of the boat, and gave "The dear old Lady" three cheers. Poor ship! there she lay--all sails reefed, rocking in melancholy inaction, deserted by her merry inmates, lonely and idle--poor Pacific! I should like to return in that ship; I would willingly skip a passage in order to do so. All were looking at the shores; some wondering and admiring, others recognising through the rain and mist, as best they might; I could not endure to lift my eyes to the strange land, and, even had I done so, was crying too bitterly to see any thing. Mr. ---- and Mr. ---- went to secure apartments for us at the American Hotel; and, after bidding good-by to the sea, we packed ourselves into a hackney coach, and progressed. The houses are almost all painted glaring white or red; the other favourite colours appear to be pale straw colour and grey. They have all green Venetian shutters, which give an idea of coolness, and almost every house has a tree or trees in its vicinity, which looks pretty and garden-like. We reached our inn,--the gentlemen were waiting for us, and led us to our drawing-room. I had been choking for the last three hours, and could endure no more, but sobbed like a wretch aloud.

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There was a piano in the room, to which I flew with the appetite of one who has lived on the music of the speaking-trumpet for a month; that, and some iced lemonade and cake, presently restored my spirits. I went on playing and singing till I was exhausted, and then sat down and wrote journal. Mr. ---- went out and got me Sir Humphry Davy's Salmonia, which I had been desiring, and he had been speaking of on board ship.

At five o'clock we all met once more together to dinner. Our drawing-room being large and pleasant, the table was laid in it. 'Tis curious how an acquaintanceship of thirty days has contrived to bind together in one common feeling of kindness and good-fellowship persons who never met before, who may never meet again. To-morrow we all separate, to betake ourselves each to our several path; and, as if loath to part company, they all agreed to meet once more on the eve of doing so, probably for ever. How strongly this clinging principle is inherent in our nature! These men have no fine sympathies of artificial creation, and this exhibition of _adhesiveness_ is in them a real and heart-sprung feeling. It touched me--indeed it may well do so; for friends of thirty days are better than utter strangers, and when these my shipmates shall be scattered abroad, there will be no human being left near us whose face we know, or whose voice is familiar to us. Our dinner was a favourable specimen of eating as practised in this new world; every thing good, only in too great a profusion; the wine drinkable, and the fruit beautiful to look at: in point of flavour it was infinitely inferior to English hothouse fruit, or even fine espalier fruit raised in a good aspect. Every thing was wrapped in ice, which is a most luxurious necessary in this hot climate; but the things were put on the table in a slovenly outlandish fashion; fish, soup, and meat, at once, and puddings, and tarts, and cheese, at another once; no finger-glasses, and a patched table-cloth,--in short, a want of that style and neatness which is found in every hotel in England. The waiters, too, reminded us of the half-savage Highland lads that used to torment us under that denomination in Glasgow--only that they were wild Irish instead of wild Scotch. The day had cleared, and become intensely hot, towards evening softening and cooling under the serene influences of the loveliest moon imaginable. The streets were brilliantly lighted, the shops through the trees, and the people parading between them, reminded me very much of the Boulevards. We left the gentlemen, and went down stairs, where I played and sang for three hours. On opening the door, I found a junta of men sitting on the hall floor, round it, and smoking. Came up for coffee; most of the gentlemen were rather elated,--we sang, and danced, and talked, and seemed exceeding loath to say good-by. I sat listening to the dear Doctor's theory of the nature of the soul, which savoured infinitely more of the spirituality of the bottle than of immaterial existences. I heard him descant very tipsily upon the vital principle, until my fatigue getting fairly the better of my affection for him, I bade our remaining guests good night, and came to bed.

_Wednesday, 5th._