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.”
CHAPTER II.
NEW YORK TO BUFFALO.
Good advice to emigrants—Examination of the baggage—New York—Schw—z’s boarding-house and its deficiencies—Aspect of the city—Abundance of fruit—An Irishman’s funeral—Fire—Reports from Illinois—The German reformed church—Extraordinary scene—Soldiers—The Scotch and their national costume—Negroes—My tobacco speculation—Unsuccessful