Return Voyage from New York to Liverpool.
To my great and sincere regret, the hour at length arrived when I was constrained to leave this happy and prosperous land, in which I had seen and learned so much, and in which much more still remained to be seen and learned: sed fata trahunt hominem!
On the 16th of June, at ten, A. M., I proceeded to Whitehall, the southernmost point of the battery, accompanied by Mr. Zimmermann, Mr. George Beiden, and Mr. Armstrong, the American Consul at Port-au-Prince. Close alongside the wharf, the steam-boat Nautilus, which plies between New York and Staten Island, lay ready to take passengers on board the Pacific, one of the Liverpool and New York packets, on board of which I had taken passage for Europe. The Pacific had on the preceding day, sailed down to the quarantine ground. The gentlemen above named accompanied me to the vessel. We were scarcely on board the steam-boat before she departed on her trip. She was tolerably crowded, inasmuch as she not only carried the Pacific’s passengers, but likewise their friends, who accompanied them, and the passengers for Staten Island. The rain fell in torrents, and the passage was rather unpleasant.
After stopping a few moments at Staten Island to land some passengers, we reached the Pacific in an hour. The wind being contrary, the ship could not put to sea. Not far from us lay the packet ship Edward Quesnell, which had left New York the day previous, and likewise, owing to head winds, could not proceed on her voyage. This ship belongs to the Havre-de-Grace line, trading between that port and New York. Our friends and acquaintances, who had come to bid us farewell, after partaking of a luncheon, returned in the Nautilus to the city. Now I once again was compelled to arm myself with patience! I recalled the time, when I was obliged to remain fourteen long days on board the Pallas, in the Road of Goeree, and I now consoled myself with a more pleasing situation. At that time I had just torn myself from the dearest objects of my heart; I contemplated a tedious stay in England, a dangerous voyage, in a word, to encounter a host of difficulties, and moreover found myself, in an inclement season of the year on board a ship, which was to bring me to a new world. These difficulties were now overcome; the voyage had been accomplished, and I was conscious that the object of my free choice, had been truly fulfilled to the best of my endeavours. According to a close calculation, I found that from my landing in Boston, to the time of my re-embarkation for Europe, I had travelled over a distance of seven thousand one hundred and thirty-five miles! How happy was I on board the Pacific! The greatest tranquillity, order and discipline, the utmost comfort in respect to quarters; a sedulous attendance, profuse and palatable meals, seasoned with the best of wines, graced our splendid board.
The first day was employed by the passengers, about twenty in number, in making themselves at home; I passed the afternoon and evening in reading and writing. The rain abated towards night, but the wind remained unchanged. Among the passengers I observed a Dr. Garret, a surgeon attached to the seventieth English regiment of the line, whose acquaintance I had made in Montreal, during the summer previous, also two Catholic clergymen of that city, Abbés Roux and Richards, a Mr. Wilkins, and Mr. Adair, an Irishman, and also several gentlemen from Jamaica, a Swiss merchant named Hoffel, and a young Hamburger, called Drusina, who had lately returned from Mexico, where he was partner in an English commercial house, a very genteel young man, and lastly a Dr. Cabell of Richmond, in Virginia, with his wife, a sister of Mrs. General Scott, and with their charming friend, Miss Caroline Marx, also a resident of Richmond.
Though we had no rain on the 17th of June, still the wind continued unfavourable; the Edward Quesnell had gone farther out to sea, and the Pacific did the same. The anchor was weighed, we spread our sails, and coasted for some miles along the shore to the Sandy Hook light-house, located on a point of land belonging to the state of New Jersey; here we again joined the Edward Quesnell and cast anchor close to her. While sailing along the coast, I was visited by my old acquaintance, sea-sickness, which however did not last long. While attacked by this sickness, I gratefully recalled to mind the goodness of Providence, in having preserved me from all disease during my long journey through the American continent! In England I had several attacks of rheumatism in the left arm and shoulder; but these pains disappeared during my voyage to Boston. Owing to the unhealthiness of the climate in the neighbourhood of Lake Ontario and the river St. Lawrence, I had a breaking out in the face, which ultimately increased to a scab on the chin, and of which I did not get rid for several months. To this I have to add the unfortunate injury from the carriage at Greenbush, which caused violent pains in my chest. All these left me the moment I reached the genial climate of the southern states, and during my stay in New Orleans I did not feel the least inconvenience, and when, during the journey, I experienced now and then a slight indisposition, it was doubtless to be attributed solely to the water that I was compelled to drink; it was but short in its duration, and, upon the whole, during my travels, I enjoyed perfect health.
The country adjacent to the spot where our ship lay, opposite the quarantine hospital at Staten Island, until this morning, is uncommonly beautiful. On leaving this station, we passed through the Narrows, beheld on our right Fort Richmond on Staten Island, to our left Fort La Fayette, and in the back ground, on a hill of Long Island, Fort Hamilton, in the erection of which they were busily engaged. Then we left the charming high coast of Staten Island and came in sight of the bleak low lands of Sandy Hook, with Long Island to the left, and the ocean before us. The Sandy Hook light-house is a high white tower, surrounded by small underwood; to the south of it, and tolerably distant from each other, are two small towers, likewise furnished with lanterns, whose lights are, however, not to be seen at so great a distance at sea as that of the large one. They serve as landmarks for mariners.
As we lay so near the Edward Quesnell, I went towards evening in a boat on board that vessel, in order to see how the passengers, and particularly the worthy Mr. Hottinguer, whom I have heretofore mentioned, were situated. Although this ship is well constructed and provided with state-rooms, still it is by no means so elegant and comfortable as the Pacific, nor is it so large. She had thirty-five cabin passengers, with a number of children; they were greatly straightened for room. Besides Mr. Hottinguer, I met several acquaintances; Colonel de Quartel,[II.36] Baron Lederer,[II.37] with his two sons, whom he intended to place at a school in Germany; Major Chotard,[II.38] with his lady and four children, and also a young Italian scene-painter, from New Orleans, called Fogliardi, who married there a very old but extremely rich wife, and was on his way to France and Italy, to escape with his better half from the quizzical jokes of the wicked wags of New Orleans. Although the deck of the Edward Quesnell was very narrow, Mr. Hottinguer had received a present of an elegant saddle-horse from his friends at New York, which, to please those friends, he was forced to take with him; therefore there was a stable erected for it on the deck, which took up a great space, and caused much inconvenience. Mr. Hottinguer and Colonel de Quartel accompanied me back to the Pacific, and remained some time with me. It was a charming moonlight evening; the wind, however, still continued unfavourable.
On the 18th of June, just one year had elapsed since I departed in the Pallas from Falmouth. The whole of this day we had dull weather; the wind remained unfavourable, and the vessel rode at anchor. Among our fellow travellers there were several very agreeable individuals. The English military surgeon was a very sprightly man, who perfectly understood how to cheer up the spirits of the ladies. Mr. Wilkins, a very elegant young man of good education, had been previously introduced to me by Governor Clinton in New York. One of the clergymen, the Abbé Leroux, an elderly Frenchman, we found tolerably dull. With regard to the other, the Abbé Richards, I heard it stated, that he had been originally a Protestant minister in Virginia, and had removed to Montreal, to endeavour to make proselytes in the seminary of that place; but in his controversies he became so won over to the Catholic faith, that he was not only converted, but likewise took the orders of Catholic priesthood. One of our boats went ashore, and the steward brought back some fresh provisions, among others tolerably large clams, which, when roasted or stewed in a rich sauce, resemble the flavour of the lobster, as likewise a species of large crab, termed horse-shoe, which resembles the Molucca crab, having a long pointed spine instead of a tail. The form of the shell of this crab resembles a horse-shoe; seen from the under part it is all alive; they have ten nippers, with which they seize their prey, and which answer likewise for feet. In the afternoon we received a visit from Mr. Hottinguer, Colonel de Quartel, Baron Lederer, and Mr. Fogliardi. I escorted those gentlemen back to the Edward Quesnell. The sea running rather high, we were splashed by the salt water. Our trip seen from the ship must have had a dangerous aspect, for it was really affecting to behold with what tenderness Madam Fogliardi caressed her young husband, as he once more happily stood on the deck. I also became acquainted on board the Edward Quesnell with a Portuguese, Dr. Constancio, and his wife. During the ephemeral government of the Cortes in his native land, this individual was Portuguese ambassador near the government of the United States, and had subsequently, during the existence of the counter-revolution, lost his office. After remaining half an hour on board the Edward Quesnell, Mr. Croker took me back in his long-boat to the Pacific. We made the transition in less than four minutes. This Mr. Croker is a Quaker, and an experienced seaman; he had crossed the ocean one hundred and thirty-four times.
During the next three days the wind remained unfavourable. Several vessels from Liverpool, were making port; one of them had only been twenty-six days on her voyage. We were likewise, approached by several small vessels bound to different foreign countries, and like us, contending with a contrary wind. Towards evening I received a note from Messrs. Leroy, Bayard & Co. in New York, acquainting me with the failure of the firm of Fries & Co. in Vienna. As I had formerly been very hospitably received by that house, and was personally acquainted with all the individuals belonging to it, their misfortunes deeply afflicted me.