The joy of immediate landing after so long a voyage, which had even become highly disagreeable towards the close, was now gone. The various changes as to their destination, the unfavorable weather, poor sailing vessels, which oftentimes had to be taken in tow by the war vessels, and the difficulty to keep together such a fleet, always in danger of hostile attack, all combined to lengthen the voyage to 100 days, which was even at that time very rare, and now could be of incalculable advantage to the cause of the Americans. With an unfavorable wind the fleet started; the eyes of everybody were directed to the green coast and the undulating hilly background. During the night the sharp glow of the Halifax lighthouse accompanied the troops, until, like a star gradually fading away, it at last disappeared from view.
On the evening of the 8th of July the fleet halted. The ship Spring had, by means of a signal of distress and four cannon shots, indicated that it was in the greatest danger. All men-of-war approached it. They learned that the sailors had mutinied, whereupon these were arrested, and then exchanged for others. With a changeable wind the fleet continued, now tacking, now sailing. To one of the ships the threatening, gigantic cone of a water spout approached, yet it escaped the danger of being overcome by its great deluge of water; elsewhere the so-called St. Elmo’s Fire appeared at the tops of the masts, feared as an apparition of a warning spirit; then on the night of the 11th to the 12th of July the sky and the ocean met, the spectacle of a most fearful thunder storm. The ships kept at a great distance from each other, drew in their sails, and while generally on the commodore’s ship the light signal was burning, now on all ships the lanterns could be seen unlit, vibrating in the deepest darkness; the clouds at night gave forth a most violent hailstorm; the terrible waves roared and piled themselves up into great fiery-looking mountains, the lightning flashed and quivered in the air, now and then splintering the top of a mast. With thunder on all sides and fearful in the expectation of the approaching storm, the soldiers sank down in silent resignation and the crew remained during the whole night on deck in anxious agitation and work. In the morning there arose a strong wind which tore to pieces the sails on several ships, but it also dispersed the storm clouds. Then, on the 14th, a calm set in, and from the ships there resounded the hymns of the Sunday services, but dense fog and continuous rains occurred and the vibrations of the ship became in the calm ever greater. All at once there was a great outcry in the fleet: Two ships, the Hartley (with Knyphausen soldiers under Captain von Biesenrod) and Lord Sandwich (on board of which was Colonel von Wurmb and a part of the life guards) could be seen colliding because of the great waves, causing each other considerable damage, and, thereupon, the ship Henrietta, with the Union, (upon which there was Colonel von Herringen and a section of the regiment of Losberg) could be seen likewise driven against each other. Alternately heaving and sinking the upper ship always appeared as if threatening destruction to the lower one, until the Union hoisted out a boat which, then, by means of a rope thrown over the bowsprit, pulled the Henrietta away. After a few agreeable days there followed on the 19th of July very stormy weather, the sea was in a most furious rage, sails ripped apart, but the ever agile activity of the sailors at the time of such accidents, was always ready with instant relief and reparation. As a spider that moves about as swiftly as the arrow in her web, so the sailors were going up and down the rope ladders of the masts and through the rigging, hanging only at their feet, tieing the tackle and binding the sails. Then there followed days and nights too hot to be endured, with heavy thunder storms; sleepless and famishing for a little fresh air, the soldiers came even in the night time on deck; the longing for the land grew hour by hour.
This most tedious voyage had given full play to the development of diseases. The most careful cleanliness, the daily scrubbing of the decks, the frequent cleaning of the cabins and rooms, the washing and the disinfecting with steaming vinegar, the pumping in of fresh air, and the airing of the bedding on decks: all this belonged to the general health regimen, yet the effect of the restrained, often unnatural physical exercises, and improper food, was not to be suppressed. While to many a Hessian the ship became his first cradle, without granting unto him in its hasty course a place which he could call his birthplace, there were others, who, deceased, were buried at the bottom of the sea, the Ensign von Stedel of the Regiment von Donop, among the first victims. Scurvy was developed as a result of tainted humors, for which the drinking of sea water was used as a medicine, and also the chewing of tobacco, which the Hessians had learned from the sailors and later kept up as a habit in their own homes. The disease reigned supreme, however, and many individuals suffered for a long time yet after the disembarkation from paralyzed limbs, and some even died. There was a lack of the most necessary things. The food supplies provided for by the officers themselves were exhausted, even the rations of zwieback were cut down to only 17 loth (8½ oz.) a day. The water, which in the whole fleet had been stored in new oaken casks, became undrinkable and finally putrid. The beds of the soldiers were broken up in the storms, camp kettles and canteens were smashed, tents, clothing apparel, even the cartridges had been destroyed by the rats, which finally had even gnawed through the water casks; all of these troubles more or less were suffered by most of the transport ships.
Meanwhile a much wished for wind filled the sails, and the ever more and more anxious, but daily disappointed hope, now at last to see New York, grew upon its wings; yet the wind on the 30th of July became so strong that the sails had to be drawn in, the rudders bound fast, and the ships left to the shattering blows of the waves, which roaringly dashed and resounded about the ships. As soon as the storm had subsided the commodore by means of the cannon shots gathered together the scattered fleet and gave instructions for a changed course in order to avoid being driven against the near coast, but, unfortunately, the ships came into a strong contrary current, the water again became high and turbulent, it rained and lightened incessantly, masts toppled over, as was the case on the Friendship which had on board 200 members of the Regiment Crown Prince, besides Colonel von Hachenberg. Sailors and ship carpenters found everywhere enough to do, until finally a favorable strong wind on the 4th of August fortunately blew the fleet out of the current. On the 10th of August the fleet offered an excellent and very hopeful appearance as it, in a most speedy wind, with high towering sails, was cutting its course through the little waves. On the 11th, at the hour of noon the happy signals indicating the sight of land were to be seen. Soon the charming coast of Long Island came into the view of all and great shouts of joy were wafted across the waters towards it from this swimming city. Carefully did the fleet tack during the night because the water was becoming ever more shallow. On the next morning, the 12th of August, an English squadron of 24 vessels was seen from the ocean and this, after a few hours, united with the fleet, following the mutual greeting by means of a definite number of shots. Among the new arrivals was also Major General von Mirbach with the troops which also belonged to the first Hessian Division, and which did not take to the transport ships at Bremerlehe until four weeks after the embarkation of Heister, and then had waited for a favorable wind.
Now the English flag was unfurled on all ships; Sandy Hook came into sight with its white lighthouse, immediately thereupon Staten Island, and a veritable painting spread itself out before the eyes of these newcomers, most charming after so many dangers had been encountered and after so long a denial of a glance on the beautiful smiling landscapes, teeming with inhabitants, exalted and majestic, the shores studded with troops, the tents of a friendly and a hostile camp, of a forest of masts of 500 ships, and the many hundred boats which so vigilantly were watching the hostile shores—here a belligerent power assembled, such as America had never seen before in order to have a combat, which in the destiny of the world gave its immeasurable decision.
Extract from the Diary of the German Poet and
Adventurer, J. G. Seume, a Hessian Soldier
and Participator on the Voyage
On the English transporter we were pressed and packed like salted herrings. To save room the deck, low as it was, had been partitioned off, and we lay instead of in hammocks, in these bunks, one row above the other. The deck was so low that a grown man could not stand upright, and the bunks not high enough to sit in. These bunks were intended to hold six men each but after four had entered, the remaining two could only find room by pressing in. The situation was, especially in warm weather, decidedly not cool: for one man to turn from one side to the other alone was absolutely impossible, and to lie on one’s back was an equal impossibility. The straightest way and the hardest edge were necessary. After having roasted and sweated sufficiently on one side, the man who had the place to the extreme right would call: round about turn! and all would simultaneously turn to the other side, then having received quantum sabis on this one the man to the left would give the same signal. The maintainance was on an equal scale. Today bacon and peas—peas and bacon tomorrow. Once in a while this menu was broken by porridge or peeled barley, and as an occasional great feast by pudding. This pudding was made of musty flour, half salt and half sweet water and of very ancient mutton suet. The bacon could have been from four to five years old, was black at both outer edges, became yellow a little farther on and was white only in the very centre. The salted beef was in a very similar condition. The biscuits were often full of worms which we had to swallow in lieu of butter or dripping if we did not want to reduce our scanty rations still more. Besides this they were so hard that we were forced to use canon balls in breaking them into eatable pieces. Usually our hunger did not allow us to soak them, and often enough we had not the necessary water to do so. We were told (and not without some probability of truth) that these biscuits were French, and that the English, during the Seven Years’ War had taken them from French ships. Since that time they had been stored in some magazine in Portsmouth and that they were now being used to feed the Germans who were to kill the French under Rochambeau and Lafayette in America—if God so wotted. But apparently God did not seem to fancy this idea much.
The heavily sulphured water lay in deep corruption. After a barrel had been hoisted up and opened, the deck was pervaded by a conglomeration of very evil odours indeed. It was full of worms as long as a finger and had to be filtered through a cloth before it could be drunken. And even then it was dangerous to breathe above it. Rum and sometimes a little strong beer helped to make it somewhat more drinkable.
Herded together in this manner, forced to breathe putrid air, to eat bad food and to drink foul water, these youths, old men, students, merchants and peasants, many of them but insufficiently clothed, were tossed about for months upon the Atlantic.
Many of the sufferings undergone by us on this voyage were no doubt unavoidable, and many of the recruits were used to a hard life—nevertheless, many of the things they endured were the result of an intentional deficiency of care taking and of a great greed.