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 propriâ 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