The “Grand Tour” of Former Days—The only Grand Tour left—Round the World in Eighty Days—Fresh-water Sailors and Nautical Ladies—Modern Steamships and their Speed—The Orient—Rivals—Routes round the Globe—Sir John Mandeville on the Subject—Difficulties in some Directions—The Great Atlantic Ferry—Dickens’s Experiences—Sea Sickness—Night at Sea—The Ship Rights—And then Wrongs—A Ridiculous Situation—Modern First-class Accommodation—The Woes of the Steerage—Mark Tapley—Immense Emigration of Third-class Passengers—Discomfort and Misery—Efforts to Improve the Steerage—“Intermediate”—Castle Gardens, New York—Voyage safer than by the Bay of Biscay—The Chimborazo in a Hurricane.
“Come, all ye jovial sailors,
And listen unto me,
While I do sing the troubles
Of those that plough the sea.”
We all know what the “Grand Tour” meant a few generations ago, and how without it no gentleman’s education was considered complete. Now-a-days the journey can be made by almost any one who can command thirty or forty pounds, and the only really grand tour left is that around [pg 2]the world. M. Verne tells us—inferentially, at all events—that it can be made in eighty days, while Puck, as we know, speaks of putting a “girdle round the earth in forty minutes.” But this statement of the popular French author, like many others put forth in his graphic and picturesque works, must be taken cum grano salis. It could be, undoubtedly, but it is very questionable whether any one has yet accomplished the feat. Could one ensure the absolute “connection” as it is technically termed, of all the steamship lines which would have to be employed it might be done; or better, one vessel with grand steaming and sailing qualities might perform the “Voyage Round the World” in the given time. But M. Jules Verne, it will be remembered, paints his hero as landing at various points, and as performing acts of bravery and chivalry en route, such as the episode of rescuing a Hindoo widow from the Suttee; finding time to lounge and drink in San Francisco “saloons,” and being attacked by Indians, who would wreck the overland train; and still, with all delays, he is able to reach London in time to win his wager. The very idea of describing a journey round the world as an act of eccentricity is peculiarly French. The Englishman who can afford to make it is especially envied by his friends, and not considered mildly mad. We have before us a list of books of travel, all published within the last few years, and in circulation at the ordinary libraries. Thirteen of these works describe voyages round the world, and they are mostly the productions of amateur rather than of professional writers. So easy, indeed, is the trip now-a-days, that two of these records are modestly and deprecatingly described as “Rambles,” while one of the best of them is the work of a clever and enthusiastic lady,[1] whose excellent husband, in and out of Parliament, has earnestly and persistently studied “poor Jack’s” best interests. This lady is evidently no fresh-water sailor, and would put to shame the land-lubber described in a very old song:—
“A tar, all pitch, did loudly bawl, sir,
‘All hands aloft!’—‘Sweet sir, not I.
Though drowning I don’t fear at all, sir,
I hate a rope exceedingly.’”[2]