The Lightning loaded in Train’s Line at Constitution Wharf, and sailed for Liverpool, February 18, 1854. The Boston Daily Atlas of that date published the following account of her departure:

“At 2 o’clock the Lightning hove her anchor up, and at 3 o’clock discharged her pilot off Boston Light. She went down in tow of the steamer Rescue, Captain Hennessy, and was piloted by Mr. E. G. Martin. Before the steamer left her, she set her head sails, fore-and mizentopsails, and had a moderate breeze from west to southwest. She appeared to go at the rate of 6 knots under this canvas, though she draws 22 feet of water, and has only 23 feet depth of hold. We have seen many vessels pass through the water, but never saw one which disturbed it less. Not a ripple curled before her cutwater, nor did the water break at a single place along her sides. She left a wake as straight as an arrow and this was the only mark of her progress. There was a slight swell and as she rose we could see the arc of her forefoot rise gently over the seas as she increased her speed. At 5 P.M., two hours after the pilot left her, the outer telegraph station reported her thirty miles east of Boston Light, with all drawing sails set, and going along like a steamboat. We think her talented designer and builder, Mr. McKay, cannot improve upon her model. Her commander, being a pious man, was attended down the harbor by a select party of brethren and sisters of the church, who at parting gave him their blessing. This is much better than the dram-drinking and vociferous cheering which usually make up the parting scenes of the unregenerated.�

The voyage so auspiciously begun proved one of the most remarkable ever made by a ship on the ocean; for before the Lightning set her pilot signal off Point Lynas, she had left more miles of salt water astern in twenty-four hours than any vessel that has ever sailed the seas propelled by winds and canvas. From the abstract log, published in the Liverpool Albion soon after her arrival, it appears that she went round the north of Ireland, making the run to Eagle Island in 10 days, and to the Calf of Man, within 80 miles of Liverpool, in 12 days, thence to Liverpool in 13 days 19½ hours from Boston Light. Her day’s runs were as follows:

1.“February 19th. Wind west-southwest, and northwest, moderate;200 miles.
2.20th.Wind north-northeast and northeast, strong breezes withsnow; 328 miles.
3.21st.Wind east-southeast with snowstorms; 145 miles.
4.22d.Wind east-southeast, a gale with high cross sea and rain;114 miles.
5.23d.Wind north. Strong gales to east-southeast; ends moderate;110 miles.
6.24th.Wind southeast, moderate; 312 miles.
7.25th.Wind east-southeast and southeast. Fresh breezes withthick weather; 285 miles.
8.26th.Wind west-southwest, moderate; 295 miles.
9.27th.Wind west-northwest, moderate; 260 miles.
10.28th.Wind west and northwest, steady breezes; 306 miles.�

[The position at noon on this day was latitude 52° 38′ N., longitude 22° 45′ W., and here began the greatest day’s run ever made by a ship under canvas.]

11.“March 1st. Wind south. Strong gales; bore away for the NorthChannel, carried away the foretopsail and lost jib; hove the log severaltimes and found the ship going through the water at the rate of 18 to18½ knots; lee rail under water, and rigging slack. Distance run intwenty-four hours, 436 miles.
12.2d.Wind south, first part moderate, latter part light and calm.
13.3d.Light winds and calms.
14.4th.Light southeast winds and calms; at 7 A.M. off Great OrmsHead; 12 m. off the N. W. Lightship.�

This was a remarkable passage considering the percentage of easterly winds, though its memorable incident is, of course, the phenomenal run of 436 miles in twenty-four hours, an average of 18½ knots, which entitles the Lightning to the proud distinction of being the swiftest ship that ever sailed the seas. There was no ocean steamship of her day that approached her record by less than 100 miles, and another five-and-twenty years passed away before the Atlantic greyhound, the Arizona, made 18 knots for a single hour, on her trial trip. Even at the present time, according to Lloyd’s Register, there are not more than thirty ocean-going mail steamships afloat, that are able to steam over 18 knots. It must have been blowing hard enough when the Lightning’s jib and foretopsail carried away, for these were not old, worn-out sails, put on board to attract the favorable consideration of underwriters, but were of new canvas, made unusually strong, and had not been out of the sail loft more than a couple of weeks.

Strange as it may seem, the “wood butchers of Liverpool,� as Donald McKay used to call them, were allowed to fill in the concave lines of the Lightning’s bow with slabs of oak sheathing, and while she continued to be a fast ship, she doubtless would have proved still faster had her original design not been tampered with.[12]

The second of these ships, the Champion of the Seas, measured: length 269 feet, breadth 45 feet, depth 29 feet, dead-rise at half floor 18 inches; length of mainyard 95 feet. The concavity of her water-line forward was 2½ inches, from which it will be seen that she was a differently designed ship from the Lightning. She was considered by many to be even a handsomer vessel. Her stern was ornamented with the arms of Australia, while at her bow she carried a full-length figurehead of a handsome sailorman rigged out in all his best go-ashore togs. She was commanded by Captain Alexander Newlands, who came from Liverpool to superintend her construction and equipment, the whole inside arrangements of the ship, including the complicated plan for light and ventilation and the details of the cabin, being made according to his designs. After fitting out at Grand Junction Wharf, East Boston, she was towed to New York by the R. B. Forbes, where she loaded for Liverpool, and made the passage to that port during the month of June, 1854, in 16 days.