FROM BREMEN TO NEW YORK.

“Does the boat start at nine exactly?” “Yes, do not be later.” Such was the notice I received as I spoke with the master of the lighter, which in the spring of 1837 was to take me with bag and baggage on board the “Constitution,” bound to New York, then lying in Bremen Roads, about forty miles from the town, and only waiting for the two lighters, which were to take on board the steerage passengers with their effects.

I was true to my appointment at nine o’clock, but soon found that there was no necessity to have hurried myself, as no preparations had been made for starting; I took advantage of the time to look over all my effects, to see if I had everything I thought necessary, and to procure any thing that was wanting: in a large chest, that could easily be got at, I had packed some bottles of red wine, a keg of sardines, another of herrings, a Westphalian ham (oh, that there had been six!), some lemons, a little rum, pepper, sugar, some tin vessels for the table and to keep food in, knives, forks, and spoons. I found all right, and then lounged along the banks of the Weser, so as not to lose the boat. I was astonished at the number of passengers that arrived; and when I saw the crowd of people to be stowed in the miserably small boat, it appeared to me impossible that she could hold so many. While I was leaning against the corner of a house and looking on, a young man approached, wrapped in a blue cloak, with a foraging cap, spectacles, a long pipe in one hand, and a knapsack in the other; he looked at me steadfastly for a moment, and then accosted me with the intimate “Du” (Thou). His features were familiar to me, but I did not remember him till he mentioned his name; he was H., a former school-fellow, who was about to embark in the same ship. The sight of him first recalled to mind, since I had taken leave of all who were near and dear to me, that I was not quite alone in the world, and that there was still some one who would interest himself for me; of course we were now inseparable.

We lounged about together for some time in the town, and on returning to the boat found for certain that it would not start till the following morning. Most of the passengers went on shore in the evening. H. and I remained on board with our baggage. Next morning we cast off from the shore and made sail with the ebb; the wind was unfavorable. No one who has not made such a passage, in a similar boat, with a like number of passengers, can imagine the scene. It is necessary to give a short description of it, as these boats are still in use, and may yet carry thousands of emigrants from their native land. The lighter was cutter-rigged, about forty-five feet long, and some fifteen broad, with a little hole in the after part called a cabin, with two sleeping places on one side and some rows of shelves on the other; it was about large enough to contain six people closely packed. Imagine sixty passengers in the other part of the boat! (for the cabin was only for the master, or captain, as he liked to be called). Sixty live passengers, with their chests, trunks, hat and other boxes, handkerchiefs of provisions, cloaks, mattresses, coverlets, &c. &c.; and not young men only, but old and young women, old men and boys, children and old maids, sitting, lying, standing, and leaning about. If any one had told me beforehand that such a number of people could have been packed in such a space, I would not have believed him.

When all had settled themselves, and I was firmly persuaded that it was quite impossible to find room for one more, without hanging him up under the deck, a pair of legs poked themselves down the hatchway; over them was a blue jacket, topped by the rubicund visage of our faithful captain. After trying for some time with his feet to find a solid foundation to stand on, he let go his hands, and lighted on the corns of a lanky sailor, who had squeezed himself in between two chests, and had fallen asleep standing; the pain made him draw up his long legs, and he was so disconcerted, that, still half asleep, he courteously begged pardon of the captain, or Tarpaulin, as we called him.

The captain now began to look about him, stepping over two and sometimes three persons at a time. But what was his motive for taking all this trouble? Merely to look at the pretty faces of the female passengers, and to try to make himself agreeable to them—but time and place, wind and weather were against him; he only received snappish words from some, and derision from others; finding that nothing was to be gained from the fair sex, he turned to the other, and began to ogle various attractive-looking bottles, which were less coy towards him, for here and there some of them were uncorked and their contents earnestly inquired into.

At last he went on deck, and I followed, not without difficulty, to get at least a breath of fresh air; the weather was bad, the sky cloudy, with a sharp cutting wind, and occasionally rain: the dull leather-colored banks of the Weser filled me with melancholy.

H. had followed me; so we lit a couple of cigars, and talked over old stories. We anchored at dark, as the master was afraid of running aground—the vessel swung round, the sails were lowered, and all was quiet for the night. As the dew fell heavy and cold, we once more descended through the dark abyss of the hatchway. Not a light was burning, and all lay close packed together; how I managed to get through the mass is still a mystery, but I remember that I passed the night, sitting on the corner of a chest, leaning my head upon another with an enormous padlock, against which I constantly knocked.

What a scene in the morning!—I was as hungry as a wolf—and no wonder, for I had eaten nothing since the previous morning; I got on deck, washed my face and hands in a bucket of Weser water, and greedily devoured a morsel of bread and cheese which I had in my pocket. The weather had improved, the boat dropped slowly down with the tide. About eight o’clock we met a small fishing boat, from which I bought some capital shell-fish; these our captain ordered to be cooked by his ministering spirit, and of course came in for his share. When the flood made, we anchored again; H. and I with the only sailor went on shore to recruit our store of provisions, as our passage seemed likely to be a long one.

In the afternoon we dropped down to a village called, I believe, Bracke, where some merry music struck our ears. Our Tarpaulin would not have passed it had the whole admiralty of Bremen been standing sentry on the shore; although the wind was fair, and the ebb still running, the anchor was dropped, the little boat hauled up, and all the younger members, babies excepted, landed on the beach.

Dancing was carried on with vigor for a couple of hours, but I took no part in it; I was in no humor for dancing. I was nevertheless amused; the emigrants, in the costume of their different states, even in the moment of bidding farewell to their native land, jumped and bounded to the sound of a couple of fiddles and a horn, without a care for the future. As it began to grow late, the not very tender lighterman’s conscience of our captain began to reproach him. The wind was fair, and he knew that the ship was only waiting for him; so he collected his cargo, and we left the merry sounds behind us. We had had some fun at any rate, and that made the time seem shorter.

At Vegesack, another village on the Weser, we received three more passengers, also bound for our ship—a man of about five or six and forty, his wife, some seven or eight years younger, and their hopeful son, of about eighteen.

As it was a downright impossibility to squeeze in three more passengers amongst us, Tarpaulin gave them up his cabin, as he called it. It cost no little trouble to get the two rather helpless old folks stowed below. William, for that was hopeful’s name, managed it quicker, for his foot slipped, and down he went, like a flash of lightning, between his astonished parents, crushing his mother’s bonnet in his descent. Towards evening our captain wanted some tar. It was stowed under a scuttle in the floor of the cabin. The sailor, who had taken rather too much on board at Bracke, and thereupon had totally forgotten the principles of equilibrium, tumbled to the foot of the cabin ladder, and made the trio understand that it was necessary to open the little hole in the floor, and that therefore they must press themselves as close as possible against the ship’s sides. This was easier said than done, because a narrow seat ran along the sides. The scuttle was at last opened, the iron pot lifted out, and set with its sharp edge on William’s toes, causing him to draw back his foot and strike his heel forcibly against the ship’s side. But his cup of sorrow was not exhausted yet. With sublime patience he awaited the retreat of the sailor, who, with unsteady hands, lifted the bucket towards the captain, who had stretched out his hands to take it; but “there’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.” The bucket turned over. William, poor innocent William, received the whole of the contents, and the captain got nothing more than his favorite perfume. He swore like a heathen. And what said William, as he stood there like butter in the sun? If the saying is true—“well greased goes easy,” it ought to have gone easy with him.

One more night had we to pass in this wretched boat. It would fill volumes to relate all the occurrences, serious and comic. In the morning we saw the object of our hopes—the barque “Constitution”—lying at anchor, with flags flying. We were soon alongside and on board. The confusion of this moment was indescribable. The second lighter had arrived two days before us with the other passengers, who had secured the most convenient bed-places, and arranged their packages to the best advantage; no trifling matter in so small a space. The steerage was about thirty-three feet long by twenty-seven wide, and eight high, with posts, or stanchions, in the middle, to support the upper deck, to which the chests, &c., were lashed. Imagine on each side two rows of bed-places, one over the other, about six feet square, each wide enough, or rather not wide enough, to contain five people. The chests, cases, packages of all sorts with clothes and provisions, were stowed in the intermediate spaces, and lashed to the posts, to keep them from tumbling about with the motion of the ship, leaving a space on each side of about twenty-two feet long, and from twelve to fourteen inches wide, for 118 passengers. At first I could not believe that we were so many, but by degrees became convinced of it. After for a short time viewing the scene with its forms climbing and crawling about through the gloom, I imagined to myself the motion of the ship, the lashings giving way, the chests and boxes flying from side to side, and the advent of sea-sickness, which the number of tin basins kept in readiness seemed mournfully to forebode;—I hastily mounted to the deck, which seemed spacious and well arranged.

Although lying at anchor, the “Constitution” appeared to one so uninitiated as myself to roll considerably. Before dark, I crept below again to take another look at my sleeping-place. There were five of us, whom fate and our own volition had consigned to a space six feet square, with the audacious idea of resigning ourselves to the arms of Morpheus; but we were so squeezed together that the god could not have clasped an individual; so he must either take all five at once, or leave us to our fate. Our mattresses were spread (each had a mattress and coverlet), and we crept in one after the other. When four had taken their places, two of them being men of colossal bulk, the space was filled, and the question arose—What was to become of the fifth? Lie across? That would have been too uncomfortable for those below. Under our heads? That would not have been agreeable for H., who was the fifth man; besides he was so scraggy and bony, that I doubt if our heads would not have had the worst of it. At last we all agreed to lie on our sides, and H. squeezed in. Turning round was a thing not to be thought of; and thus we passed our first night in our long-desired ship.

Next morning, when my left side awoke (my right lying fast asleep for some time longer), all my limbs seemed bruised and broken; I almost felt homesick. I crept out as well as I could, and went on deck to get a wash, a bucket serving me for a basin. The wind blew cold and comfortless through the rigging. All was soon in motion below, and as I looked down the hatchway, I was forcibly reminded of Schiller’s “Diver,”[*]

Laughter, singing, roaring, cursing, the screams of children, crying, and praying, resounded in a confused din up the hatchway. Presently, one sleepy face after another crept up the ladder, with blinking eyes, accustomed to the nether darkness, and looked towards the morning sun just breaking through a bank of thin gray clouds. In about an hour’s time, a talismanic word, pronounced in a loud voice in the forepart of the ship, put life into the crew, who had been on board some days: we soon found that this mysterious word meant, “breakfast”—“dinner”—“supper.” We received coffee, biscuit, and brown bread, but every one had to find his own can, and to fetch his portion himself.

I had now time to notice my bed-fellows: H., I have already described; the other three were a joiner, a doctor, and an apothecary, the two latter big enough to fill up one sleeping-place to themselves. As far as I could judge on such short acquaintance, they seemed to promise agreeable society.

Boundless disorder still reigned around. No one seemed to know where he ought to be; everybody was asking for a chest, a box, a trunk: the fair sex, of whom we had about twenty-five, had made no arrangements among themselves, so that, instead of only eight, sixteen were speaking at the same time. I sincerely pitied some among them, who seemed to have been in better circumstances, but who, probably through insufficiency of means, were obliged to choose the cheaper passage in the steerage, and to forego all the comforts to which they had been accustomed from childhood. A single man can rough it; indeed, it is highly interesting to take part in all this life and bustle, and I would not on any account have taken my passage in the cabin; but for a woman, it is quite another thing; for what may serve as a joke and subject of conversation to a man, alarms and hurts the feelings of a woman: it was, however, very different with some Oldenburg lassies. They seemed as much at home as in their ferry-boats; the greater the uproar and disorder, the more did they laugh and enjoy it. The race of Israel had about sixty representatives on board, among them some pretty Jewesses; had they all been dirty peddlers, I must have jumped overboard.

After two days, the pilot came on board, the anchor was weighed, all was life and mirth. None would remain below, and the deck was crowded; the wind blew fair and we were soon in the North Sea. The strip of land became smaller and smaller; the pilot left us; his boat lessened and lessened; then there was only a thin, blue line with one dark point, the steeple of Wangerode; this became more misty and indistinct; the last trace of home disappeared in the blue distance. There, behind those thin clouds that seemed to lie on the water, lived all those who were near and dear to me in this world,—and yet I had no tears, for their source seemed dried up. I stood for a long, long time scanning, with dry eyes, that part of the heavens. I went early to bed to indulge my thoughts. I had hardly turned in, when my comrades came, and the squeeze began again. All was tolerably quiet in the steerage, most of the party being, probably, affected by the disappearance of their mother country.

Running with a fair wind, the ship soon became uneasy; I awoke in the night with a very disagreeable sensation, to find that my head lay much lower than my heels. Our berth was on the starboard or right side of the ship, looking towards the head, and our feet were towards the ship’s side, on account of the fresh wind; in the night the wind changed, and the ship laid over on the port side; between laughing and swearing, and not without considerable difficulty, we changed our position.

The next morning’s sun shone on many a pale and long face; the sea was rough, the ship rolled and pitched fearfully, the effect was awful to look upon. I have already stated that we had a number of Jews on board, with few exceptions, from the lowest class; they were allowed by their rabbins, at least so they avowed, to eat bacon during the voyage, and most of them had so far availed themselves of the privilege, as, if not to overload the stomach, at least to take in a very plentiful supply of the beautiful sweet bacon that was served out to us. Punishment trod on the heels of crime; there was not a corner of the ship unoccupied by a sick Israelite with a tin basin, or one despairingly leaning over the side and squaring accounts with Neptune.

H., the doctor, and myself were quite well, and not a little did we quiz the poor wretches, who were already sufficiently tormented. The following day it rained hard; the confined space, with all these sufferers, was almost insupportable—yet it was very disagreeable to get wet through on deck—I was wretched.

About noon on Sunday, some groups formed here and there; people began to feel that it was a misery not to associate,—yet a sudden qualm would often end a conversation begun in mirth. Some of the most resolute began to creep on deck again, but often had to pay dearly for their temerity, when a heavy sea broke over the ship, and wet to the skin all within its course. I never before knew the real advantage of a cloak. In the evening it cleared up, and I made my way forward amongst the crew to listen to their songs and stories.

On the following day the sea was heavier, and sickness at its height. I was quite disgusted, and climbed up the rigging to the top to get rid of it, and remained there till the cook’s magic word announced something warm for the inner man, though very few of the passengers responded to the call.

I may as well take this opportunity to say something about the cooking and manner of living. The kitchen is a small wooden house, well secured by clamps to the deck, as a safeguard against the force of the seas that break over the ship. It was divided into two parts; one for the cabin passengers, the other for the steerage passengers and crew. The provisions were good and plentiful. Coffee was served out every morning, though, to be sure, one had to drink a great deal of water to get at the coffee; but I had always been used to strong coffee, and future experience in the back woods taught me that, when drunk scalding hot, it requires a good palate to distinguish between strong and weak coffee.

It was evening when we approached the French coast, which first appeared as a bluish line, that grew larger and larger: before dark, we came near enough to Calais to distinguish the steeple and houses. Looking over towards England, we could see nothing beyond the two lights near Dover. On the following morning, we were nearer to the coast of England, whose majestic chalky cliffs were tinged rose-color by the morning sun. In the evening we passed the Isle of Wight, and the wind changing, we did not clear the Channel till the 27th May.

We were now on the broad ocean; a number of fishing-boats enlivened the prospect with their many-colored sails, sometimes white, sometimes yellow, red, and even black. The sea was green, and the color especially beautiful under the bows and stern; the picture was further animated by a number of porpoises and albicores leaping from wave to wave. I saw several strange substances floating on the sea, which I could not observe more closely, for want of a net to catch them: I decided on making one.

All went well for several days; the weather improved, sea-sickness disappeared, and the fair sex began to show themselves on deck. I had made a net, fastened it to a staff, and kept it in readiness for any thing remarkable floating past; indeed, for me, every thing that floated by was remarkable, or at least worth examination. I caught a number of jelly-like creatures, which had the power of rising or sinking in the water, and also that of motion; one kind being about five or six inches long, and one and a half or two broad, hollow, and provided with a sort of stomach marked by a dark spot, the only compact part of the animal. If left on a dry board for a couple of hours, it resolved itself into water, excepting the stomach and a slimy opaque mass with a very thin fine skin. Sometimes we saw numbers of them linked together, and always with the dark spot on one side. Some snails were caught resembling land snails: their shells contained a blue liquid, which seemed adapted to give a beautiful dye. I wrote a few lines with this dye to see how the color lasted, and found that it did not change in the least. The most beautiful of all this species is unquestionably the “Nautilus,” or, as the English call it, “Portuguese man-of-war.” It can raise itself about three inches above the surface, and steer its own course, but disappears in a storm; numerous feelers of two, three, and four feet, serve to provide nourishment. I caught one in my net, and happening to touch it with the back of my hand, it made it smart as if stung by a nettle. At night they give out a phosphoric light.

Now we were flying along with a fair wind and fine weather to our new home; the ocean had that deep transparent blue which almost enticed one to leap into it, to sleep in peace within its depths. My contemplations were interrupted by a sight that made the peaceful sleep rather doubtful—the dorsal fin of a shark peering above the surface as the ship glided by. The idea of coming between the triple row of teeth of such a monster was any thing but poetical. My attention was soon drawn to another object, to which we came nearer and nearer, lying dark on the water: at first I thought it must be a rock, and asked the mate, but he said there was no rock in that direction, and that it must be something floating—and so it was; as we passed it, it turned out to be a wreck. Nothing is more adapted to damp the spirits on board a ship than the sudden appearance of such a “memento mori,” to remind one of that journey which awaits us all, in which a wreck may be our starting-point, and a shark the first station.

On the 30th the wind was unfavorable, with a hollow sea; those good people who had nothing to do, became, as usual, sea-sick; the others managed better. Suddenly our messmate the doctor came with a pale and alarmed countenance, to tell us that the smallpox had broken out on board; a little girl had it very violently, and of a bad kind. The carpenter had hastily to fit up a place used as a store-room for ropes; she was removed thither, away from the other passengers, and the general apprehension was somewhat allayed.

While standing quietly on deck, I heard a tremendous uproar in the steerage; men swearing, women screaming, children crying, made a chorus enough to split one’s ears. I jumped down for fear of missing some fun, and was greeted by the most comical sight: every one had taken refuge on the highest sleeping places, on the tops of chests, boxes, or any other elevations, to be clear of the floor, which was taken possession of by a little white spaniel, which snarled, and snapped, and foamed at the mouth. All cried out as I came down the ladder, “A mad dog! a mad dog!” The poor beast seemed to me more sick than mad; it ran forward a couple of paces, and got jammed between two chests, and before it could free itself I had seized it by the back of the neck, while it snapped and struggled in vain. I shall long remember the shrieks of the women, who had mounted into the sleeping places, as I raised the dog, and thereby brought it nearer to them than they thought consistent with their safety. I kept fast hold of the poor thing, carried him up the ladder, and threw him overboard. It was the only dog on board, and belonged to poor William, who came in for the shower-bath of tar on board the lighter. He took the affair very coolly, and said, “he was glad the beast was gone, as he was always putting his paws into his food.” He and his father had remained a long time on deck, and at last, when they had descended, they did not meet with a very friendly reception from the old lady, who was lying sick in her bed-place. “William—you—and—your—father—are—very—stupid—to—leave—me—a—poor—sick—woman—all—a—lone—while—you—are—a—mu—sing—your—selves—on—deck.” William defended himself earnestly in Low Dutch, and thoughtlessly seating himself on his mother’s cap-box, the lid gave way under his weight; his ears were well boxed in consequence.

June 4th.—A calm, with the sea as smooth as a mirror, except occasionally when a long swell disturbed the surface; the ship was motionless. I felt a great inclination to bathe, but the captain had forbidden it, on account of the sharks. Early in the morning, however, H. and I sprang overboard before he was up, and felt as light as feathers in the warm sea; I was much more fatigued than ever I had been in river bathing, and I had swallowed no slight quantity of salt water.

I went to sleep after dinner, and as I came on deck again about two o’clock, I found dancing going on. The ship was not motionless, though without headway; the swell made her roll heavily at times, and occasionally a party of dancers, five or six couple, would be carried from one side to the other, and thereafter, for a moment attempting to maintain the perpendicular, yield at last to the laws of gravity, and fall together in a heap. Towards dark, dancing ceased; a light breeze sprang up at sunset, driving us gently before it, the sea looking still more beautiful with its little light foam-crested waves. At night it appeared to be sown with myriads of stars and sparks, particularly where the ship dashed through the waters, throwing off the spray: it shone as if a fire was under the water—every wave that broke against the bows, gave light enough to exhibit the letters in a book. Although it was against rules for steerage passengers to pass abaft the capstan, our kind-hearted captain was not very strict in enforcing this order, and for hours together I have watched the sparkling foam under the stern. Once while so occupied I was startled by a rushing, snorting noise, and looking up, saw the dark form of a grampus from about eighteen to twenty feet in length, rushing through the flashing waters as if swimming in liquid fire; he disappeared close under the stern.

On the following day we fell in with another ship: on our hoisting our Bremen colors, she showed an American ensign; we passed about fifty yards from her. The captains exchanged their latitude and longitude, and gave the name of the ports they came from and were bound to: her destination was Oporto. A singular feeling is awakened by thus meeting another ship on the immense ocean; to see another little world appear, pass within hail, then diminish to a white point, and disappear, leaving the poor emigrant more deserted than before on the waste of waters.

On the 7th June, we were running eleven knots an hour; there was not much sea, so that very few were sea-sick, and most had appeared on deck and collected into picturesque groups,—here a couple playing cards, there one with a prayer-book, a couple of girls knitting and reading together, and some with wrinkled brows, strange contortions of the mouth, and uncouth sounds, industriously studying, and endeavoring to pronounce, English. These quiet pleasant days were named by us fine fricandeau days, for the following reason. We could not eat all the salt meat and bacon that was served out, so we mixed the remains, after mincing it small, with bread crumbs and yolks of eggs, kneaded it together, and fried it in butter; hence the name, for in bad weather we could do nothing of the sort.

With so much fine weather I began to fear that we should miss seeing a storm, and so lose the real delight of a sea voyage; but on the 16th it began to blow, the sea got heavier and heavier, the faces longer and longer—and by midnight old Boreas was in full bluster, the ship dashing nobly through the brilliantly illuminated sea. I was delighted with the war of the elements, and leaning over the side, watched for hours the raging storm and restless waves. I did not go to bed till morning, when I took my mattress out of the berth, and laid it on the deck, as it was impossible for five to sleep below.

The next day’s sun lighted up a wild but glorious scene; immense dark blue waves, with green ridges crested with foam, for a moment “towering in pride of place,” then sinking to make room for others; a shoal of large porpoises were leaping joyfully among the boisterous waves. Sailors say that they can tell, by the course of these fish, the quarter that the wind will blow from, only they are not agreed whether they go against the wind or run before it;—merely a difference of diametrically opposite directions. The gale was now so heavy that we were obliged to lie to, with the helm lashed a-lee. In the midst of it we saw a ship running before the wind; with very little sail: she was frequently hidden by the intervening waves, shot quickly past, and was soon out of sight.

On the 19th, the weather moderated in the morning, but the gale came on again with greater force towards the evening. The scene in the steerage was piteous in the extreme; sea-sickness at its height.—H. and I attempted to joke with some, who were seated on the deck, deadly pale, with tin basins between their knees, patiently awaiting the dreaded paroxysms. We put a slice of nice fat bacon into a plate, covered it over, then went to the sufferers and asked them how they felt. Instead of answering, they mournfully shook their heads. “Won’t you take something?” asked H., with a kind voice; the very idea occasioned disgust, and with wry faces they motioned us not to speak of it; not yet satisfied, I uncovered the plate, and H., holding up the slice before them, asked in the most amiable, sympathizing voice, “Perhaps you could eat a little bit of bacon?” This was like a watchword; it worked like magic, and we were glad to fly on deck, almost alarmed at the success of our plans.

At noon pease-soup was served out; I had taken a basinful down below, a proceeding which required no little skill, and leaning against the sleeping-place had almost finished it, when H. came cursing and swearing down the ladder, and standing at the foot of it, showed us his coat, telling us, fiery with rage, that one of the Oldenburghers had spilt all his pease-soup over him. At this moment a tin dishful of the same came flying down the hatchway, and emptied itself so completely over ill-fated H. that his eyes were bunged up; nor was this all—the soup was only the prologue to the play, for who should follow his soup, head-foremost, but poor William, in propri personÂ, who, but for alighting on H.’s shoulders must have broken his neck. Both fell together in the mess. It would be a vain attempt to describe H.’s rage; had we not sprung to the rescue, poor William would have been strangled. When the gale moderated, more sail was made, but the sea ran high, and through the wind being north-west, we could not lay our course; still way was made, and that was a comfort.

In the afternoon we saw another ship, and under Bremen colors. The captains exchanged information through the speaking-trumpets; we hastened towards the land of the stranger, while she was in full sail towards home; with mournful thoughts, I watched the snowy sails, growing less and less, until all traces of them were lost in the distant horizon.

Time began to hang heavy on our hands, our wished-for port still distant, and the wind unfavorable; we approached the banks of Newfoundland, whose southern points we were rounding under a thick fog. Towards evening another ship was seen; then the fog came on thicker, so that the bell was frequently struck, or a horn sounded, to prevent our running foul of other vessels. Our captain was also anxious on account of icebergs, which the other ship had spoken of, and the thermometer was often dipped overboard, to try the temperature of the sea, as it falls considerably on the approach of icebergs.

The fog lay thick and damp, and the north-west wind blew very cold, so that our cloaks came again into request. The smallpox did not seem inclined to leave us, as one of the crew was now attacked, and confined to the sick cabin. It was as cold as it is in Germany in December, and if three fourths of the passengers had not been driven on deck by the fumes of sulphur kindled in the steerage, they would not have ventured out of the warm but foul air of their sleeping-places. It is surprising that we had not more sickness on board, for pure air is one of the main sources of health, and this was much wanted between decks.

At night the wind changed in our favor, and it began to rain. I had placed my mattress near the hatchway, and was wet through before I awoke.

The 4th of July approached,—the liberation-day of the Americans. The captain said he should make it a holiday, and give us some punch, and we decided on making preparations for it; a young man named Zellner, who had already been in America, sketched the plan. First a transparency was painted, with the American arms, the stripes and stars, and rising eagle, with, as a motto, the names of the four heroes of the revolution, Washington, La Fayette, Franklin, Kosciusko. It happened that one of the passengers had some rockets and other fireworks, which he produced for the occasion. At twelve at night, between the 3rd and 4th July, the transparency was illuminated, and a song composed for the nonce, sung to the tune of “God save the King.” The fireworks were let off, and the rockets fired from our fowling-pieces. The lights were reflected from the calm water. The captain now invited our party, and some other of the steerage passengers into the cabin, where punch was handed round, while the mate served it out on deck to the crew and the rest of the passengers, pressing it particularly on the ladies. The consequences soon became manifest. We had sat for about half an hour in the cabin, laughing and drinking; but I took the precaution of drinking only one glass, the punch appearing very strong, and much too sweet for my taste. Observing that the eyes of the doctor and some others began to twinkle, and that all were getting rather jovial, I rose, and the others followed, and we came out on deck to see the fun, which every moment became wilder and wilder. The sailors were aloft on the yards, letting off squibs; the ship’s bell was being rung as if for fire, and rockets and blank cartridges were fired out of every available musket. Zellner’s double-barrelled gun burst, luckily without doing harm; but the quarter-deck was the place where the “mirth and fun” was most “fast and furious.” Ollman, an excellent violin player, had at first kindly offered to play for the general amusement; but when the row got too wild he withdrew, and another, burning with desire to show his skill, mounted on the capstan, and began to wake such discordant sounds out of his fiddle, that nothing but the general uproar prevented everybody’s teeth from being set on edge; nevertheless they all waltzed away like mad, caring nothing for the motion of the ship, which occasionally threw them against the side in a confused heap. The man on the capstan continued playing as if possessed, his face turned to the stem, and maintained his place with great skill; and when the dancers were all thrown together by the motion of the ship, he leant towards them, playing away louder and louder, but without showing the slightest change of countenance. William’s mother threw her arms round my neck, begging me to dance with her; next to her stood an old ropemaker, who had been ill all the voyage; he tried to stand on one leg, whistling his own tune, while turning on his axis; the lanky tailor lay on his back, with his arms and legs working like a telegraph; in short, of the 118 passengers, not more than six were quite sober. To have a better view I got into the long boat, and laughed till the tears came; but as one can have too much of a good thing, as I was tired with laughing, and although I had drank very little, yet felt some bad effects, I crept down to my bed. As I afterwards learnt, the mate, with the intention of making everybody drunk, had heated the rum, put very little water, and plenty of sugar. I was up again by daylight, and helped many of the victims to their beds.

None of the passengers excepting Vogel and H. showed themselves for a long time, and when they did at last, what pale, dull faces appeared—what hollow, heavy eyes—what universal complaints of headache and wretchedness! William especially went about very chapfallen; in the midst of the fun he had sat himself down, and remained in the cook’s steep-tub, where the salt meat for the morrow was soaking.

We had a great deal of lightning in the evening, and about eleven o’clock the heaviest thunderstorm I had ever experienced broke over us. Flash after flash of lightning, peal on peal of thunder throughout the whole vault of heaven. I went aloft to help the sailors; one moment it was as light as day, with the black threatening sky above and beneath us, like a dark stripe, the noble ship rushing through the glowing foam-covered ocean. It was sublime—such moments are never to be forgotten. The breeze lasted till the 10th July, when it again fell calm. The ship lay almost motionless, and as all had recovered, alike from sea-sickness and from the effects of the punch, the greater number of the passengers showed themselves on deck forming various groups. About noon a shark came towards us, the first we had seen for some days; he swam quietly round the ship, and then disappeared, notwithstanding all the temptations we offered in the shape of large pieces of meat, but which concealed an enormous hook. He was accompanied by two pilot-fish, whose attachment to the shark is wonderful. These pilot-fish are from twelve to fourteen inches long, with stripes of blue and white of about a finger’s breadth across their back. I shot one, but could not pick it up. The shark is sometimes accompanied by five or six of these fish; he never attacks them, and they probably point out his prey; for though we saw nothing more of the shark, it was most likely under the ship, as the pilot-fish played about under the bowsprit, a certain sign that he was not far off. We also saw a sword-fish of twelve or fourteen feet long.

Several stormy petrels, or, as the English call them, “Mother Carey’s chickens,” had followed us nearly all the voyage, and were now swimming or flying about the ship; I shot one, and caught it in my net as it floated past. They are about the size of swallows, and fly something like them; they are web-footed, dive well, and have a large horny hole in the beak.

The breeze sprang up again next day, but so light, that the ship seemed to be asleep,—fancy her in a night-cap and dressing-gown. Our dear companions became day by day more insupportable; the liveliest, who were always on deck, began to quarrel among themselves; the others merely vegetated; they remained day and night in their sleeping-places, without even taking the trouble to wash themselves; perhaps they were afraid of taking too much water out of the sea, as the ship was near sand-banks. We tried all sorts of amusements, such as reasonable grown-up men would not be suspected of patronizing. Amongst others, we played at soldiers; working men, shopkeepers, apothecaries, Jews, Christians, sailors, old and young, all took part in it, with sticks, brooms, harpoons, fish-grains, hunting knives, wind instruments (the ship’s horn for fog-signals), flags, &c., just like little boys. The whole play was carried out—rebellion, desertion (one of the Jews was the deserter), court-martial, execution, and tocsin: the tocsin bell was a shirt stretched over a hoop, and beaten with a broomstick. The best of all was, that the doctor turned up his nose at us, and talked about our being childish! Wasn’t he hooted?

July 18th.—Running merrily with a fair wind, our hearts swelling with fresh hopes. We collected the Oldenburghers on deck to sing a song, the chorus of which was, “Peasants ride in coaches in America.” I thought the good people might be in error as to coaches, and that wheelbarrows would be nearer the mark. But what should we be without hope? We were near the land. At early dawn I sprang out of a hammock I had manufactured, for I could not sleep in the narrow berth, and mounted aloft. Placid, just crisped by a light south-east wind, lay the sea, deep, deep beneath me, dandling the noble ship, playing with her, yielding before her, and then following with a slight splash. I gained the highest point, clasped the mast with my left arm, and delightedly breathed the pure morning air. The horizon became lighter and lighter, the view clearer and clearer—the mist vanished—a hollow sound like distant thunder broke on the listening ear! It was surf,—there lay the land, and plainer and plainer as the light increased appeared a blue stripe above the dark waves of the horizon. “Land!” cried I from the mast head, and “land!” “land!” resounded from one to another between decks. As ants run out of their nest when it is disturbed, so rushed the half-wakened passengers up the hatchway, hastened to the bows, and opening their blinking eyes as wide as they could, repeated “land!” although I am convinced that it was not possible to see it from the deck, as the day did not get any clearer, and only the highest points were visible. Our lanky friend the tailor came up among the rest, holding a plate of butter in one hand, a ship’s biscuit in the other; as he heard the word “land!” repeated, he set his provisions on one of the hen-coops, and ran with the others to look at the land. William, who probably thought that there would be plenty of time to contemplate it, sat himself quietly down on the hen-coop, and of course on the butter, which had become rather soft after a night spent between decks; there he sat, kicking his heels against the rails, his hands comfortably stowed in his pockets, and whistling to express his content. The tailor returning, naturally anxious about his week’s allowance of butter, which he, confiding in the general honesty, had, in a manner, left exposed in the highway, stood immovable with astonishment, with eyes and mouth wide open, looking at this picture of innocence and self-satisfaction sitting in his butter. William, unconscious of evil, and amused at the tailor’s astonishment, put on a broad grin, which stopped his whistling, but he kept up the time with his heels. At last the astounded tailor found his tongue, and calling out, “Oh the wretch!” he sprang on the unprepared William, pulled him across his knee, and pointing out the butter to the bystanders, exclaimed in a sorrowful voice, “There, there it is!”

As we came nearer to the long-desired land, we could distinguish woods, fields, houses, farms, and single trees; a beautiful sight, but not to be enjoyed long, for the captain not liking to approach too close, stood off again, and in the evening it was hardly visible. Early on the 19th we made all sail; about eleven a small vessel stood towards us under American colors: we hoisted ours, and the pilot came on board. Now all was fresh life among the passengers. So near the land, fresh water was served out, and there was washing and splashing and smartening up going on in every corner. Here a young Jewess adorned herself with earrings containing false stones, there a man hastily washed a shirt; on one side women combing and brushing children, there others, their toilet ended, strutting about in their best;—and there lay the poor ropemaker face downwards, across the capstan; he had but one pair of trowsers, which the kind tailor was busily mending. The pilot, a fine-looking man, as all these American pilots are, and dressed in the newest fashion, soon carried us into the entrance of New York harbor, near Staten Island. Where shall I find a pen that can paint what we saw, or describe our feelings? The sight of this noble land, robed in the most beautiful green, with luxuriant fields, fine houses, and here and there remains of the original forests, forts on each side protecting the entrance, the bright blue heavens above, and rustling waves beneath, melted my heart, and made me long to be alone. I ran aloft, and looked with enchanted, and, why should I deny it, with moistened eyes, on the beautiful country which seemed opening her arms to receive us—and the question rose unavoidably: “Why is not that my home, and why must I leave all my heart holds dear to purchase such a sight?” The sailors, who came running up the rigging like cats, disturbed my meditations. The anchor was dropped, and the sails furled. A boat under a yellow flag came off from Staten Island, to inquire after our healths. Luckily all our sick had recovered, and all the party looked in good condition; so that the good doctor, in spite of a pair of hexagonal spectacles, could not find a trace of the late sickness, and left the ship with the words “All’s well.” In the evening, H., the doctor, and I plunged overboard to bathe. We were not allowed to leave the ship till the morrow, when a schooner came to take us all with bag and baggage to a large square block house, about a hundred yards from the shore, to undergo a short quarantine, and to show whether our luggage contained any thing liable to duty, or requiring washing. The customs’ examination was not severe, and nobody had to pay; the dirty clothes were more strictly examined, and large buckets were brought, that those who had neglected to wash their clothes on the passage might do so now. As we quitted the “Constitution,” where we had passed sixty-four days of mingled joy and sorrow, taking leave of her crew was, to me at least, like taking leave of old friends, and as the boat shoved off we gave them a loud cheer, which was answered by the crew in English fashion with three hurrahs, preceded by “hip, hip, hip.” This was not very well taken by our Jewish passengers, who could not find “hip, hip, hip” in their dictionaries, and one of them remarked that “he did not see why they should so laugh at us.”