July 25th, during a perfect calm, I jumped overboard to bathe in the crystal waters. A more delightful feeling is hardly to be described than that of diving, swimming, splashing in the warm waters of the gulf; it almost seemed impossible to sink, the body being so buoyant in the salt water. I felt a longing desire to become a dolphin in the transmigration of souls, and to settle in the gulf of Mexico. I remained in the water till I was quite tired, and was obliged to lie down. Moreover, sea bathing never agreed with me, and on the morrow I felt rather unwell. In New Orleans I was not quite right, but would not take any medicine; now I thought it was time to do so, and swallowed a dose of tartar emetic I had had the precaution to bring with me, mixing in it a glass of Madeira. The dose was rather strong, and its effect excessive; yet I was better after it.
On the 28th and 29th July, two sharks were caught, and eaten; but I could not join in the feast, for I was now really ill with a fever, and sharp pains in the chest, and every movement was attended with great suffering. There was also cause for disquietude, in five sailors being taken ill, and their disease assuming an extraordinary character.
One evening as I was lying shaded from the moonbeams, I heard the mate talking with the American passenger, who was also unwell, and he told him, in a friendly way, that before we were clear of the gulf, at least five men would have to be sewn up in sailcloth and dropped overboard; and among them he named my worthy self. This was rather more than a joke; after escaping all the dangers and toils of the land, to be pitched over the side like a dead dog: and I was resolved to prove the old proverb: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” and to get well again. I took a glass of excellent arrack, and had a quantity of it rubbed on my chest and shoulders. I fell asleep in a few minutes, and in the morning I felt lighter and better. By the 1st August I was able to crawl about, and decidedly improving. On the 3rd, we came in sight of Cuba, and passed close enough to the shore to make out the palm-trees and country houses.
The sick sailors were still dangerously ill, and though there was a medicine chest, yet there was no doctor on board, nor any one who understood its contents; so there was little hope for the poor fellows. One died that same evening, another on the 6th, another on the 7th. There were no stones or weights on board to sink the corpses, and they swam about the ship, as if they wished to be taken on board again, and not to be left in this waste of waters. The moon was shining clear, and we looked long in silence at the melancholy spectacle, not knowing whose turn might come next.
It was possible that we should be obliged to return to an American port for men to navigate the ship, for six seamen had deserted at New Orleans, and one had died, and the captain had replaced them by two Americans, one Frenchman, and one Italian, altogether too few when we first started. However, soon after the third corpse was thrown overboard, a fresh breeze sprang up from the westward, and on the 9th we entered the Atlantic. The patients improved, and by the 11th all were well and fit for work.
Leaving the Gulf stream as soon as possible, to avoid the thunder-storms so frequent there, we had the most beautiful weather in the world, with a fresh S. W. wind, inspiring cheerfulness and good spirits. We amused ourselves in the mornings with books or chess, and in the evenings playing whist with a dummy, the time passing rapidly and agreeably. Sometimes, by way of a change in our amusements, the American wife cuffed her Lübeck husband, or threw some household utensil at his head; sometimes the Texan landholder got drunk, and talked all kinds of nonsense. Thus there was no awful pause in our entertainments, up to the time of arriving in the channel on the 1st of September, when a cutter came alongside, and sold us fresh fish and potatoes, which we enjoyed very much after all the salt provisions.
It was too thick to see the land, but after dark we made out a light-house on the coast of England, and afterwards another on that of Normandy. The next day was still foggy, and the wind against us; later, a pleasant breeze sprung up from the westward, dispersed the fog, displaying the chalky cliffs of Albion in all the splendor of the setting sun;—hundreds of vessels were in sight, while the sea was almost as smooth as a lake. I mounted aloft to feast my eyes undisturbed, on old, beloved, long-desired Europe, which seemed to open her arms with a friendly smile to welcome back the wanderer.
I remained till the darkness hid the prospect from my sight. At midnight the wind changed again, and we had to beat to windward; as the day was clear, we could make out people walking at Brighton, and the long rows of bathing-machines on the beach. We also came close in to Dover, and then over to Calais, after which we cleared the land, and stood into the North Sea.
On the 17th September, a pilot came on board, and on the evening of the 18th we were off Bremerhafen, and anchored about a quarter of a mile from the entrance on account of the ebb. Here, to our great consternation, the pilot informed us that we should be put in quarantine, on account of the deaths which had occurred. This was a woful stop to all our hopes of soon treading on terra firma, and it was in a very ill humor that I watched the dread flag flying from the foremast.
On the following morning we moved close to the Hanoverian fort. A boat with a flag uniting the Hanoverian and Bremen colors, put off and came alongside, holding on by a boat-hook, and refusing to touch a rope, for fear of infection. Two carefully enveloped figures sat in the stern; one of these was a doctor, who made us all look over the ship’s side, that he might behold and study our physiognomies, and see if they looked at all suspicious. We were mustered, to show that all were present, and then he inquired into all the particulars of the deaths. After gaining all the information he desired, he noted it in a book, and said quite coolly that he would send a report to Bremen, and that we should hear again in a few days. Here was precious felicity! We had just time to call out to the boatmen the names of various articles we wished them to procure us, such as fresh meat, bread, butter, potatoes, &c. a good sign how ill we all were—ere the boat pushed off, made sail, and disappeared in the harbor.