July 29. Our chaplain has been courting the muses. Attacked with a severe fit of inspiration, he has for some time past been engaged in writing a poem. The subject, which is well calculated for the display of his poetical genius, is "The Voyage of the James W. Paige." He honored us with a public reading of a portion of the poem on deck this afternoon. It did not receive that applause it merited in the opinion of the author, for his audience were incapable of appreciating the rich beauties of the poem, and could not distinguish Mr. Johnson's poetry from ordinary prose. Much of the poem was made up of commendations of Captain J. and of censures of the owners of the bark.
We had a clear, moonlight night, and several of the passengers, male and female, were on deck till a late hour. There was much noise among them, which disturbed the captain. He went out three times and ordered them off the house. The last time he was in a great passion, and swore that if God spared his life he would blow them through the next time they disobeyed his orders. The noise was stopped, and order, but not peace, restored. The passengers were much to blame, though their disobedience arose from heedlessness rather than from any intentional disrespect to the captain. But this threat to shoot them rankles in their bosoms.
Sherman caught a large porpoise.
July 31. Being prohibited the use of butter, or fat of any sort, or molasses, to eat with our bread, and having but a little apple-sauce doled out to us once a week, I have occasionally dissolved a spoonful of sugar to give a relish to my dry bread, and this morning the mate ordered the steward to remove the sugar-bowl. This order getting to the ears of the ladies, I have been bountifully supplied by them from a cask of very nice sugar in their cabin. This sugar was bought at Rio Janeiro by Captain J. for the special benefit of Mrs. L—t. I mention this little fact as a specimen of the petty annoyances to which we are constantly subjected by the captain and first mate, and of the friendly favors of which I have been the constant recipient from all the ladies, with one exception, during the voyage.
To-day we crossed the equator in about the 108th degree of west longitude.
August 4. A little affair came off this morning, in which the dignity and magnanimity of Captain J. were conspicuously displayed. Loud words were heard in the ladies' cabin at breakfast time between the captain, and Mrs. L—t and Miss Julia S. And what, reader, do you think was the subject of the dispute? A rag baby! It appears that Miss Julia had made the baby for a little child of another passenger. It was seen this morning floating astern, and Miss S. supposed that Mrs. L—t's child had thrown it overboard. High words grew out of it. The captain, ever ready, threw himself into the breach between his dear friend and her opponent, and as we sat in our cabin we overheard the voice of this magnanimous commander of the ship raised in loud and angry debate about a rag baby!
Our chaplain, Mr. Johnson, has had the precaution to take one of Colt's revolvers with him. He evidently is opposed to the doctrine of non-resistance, and is not inclined to yield up his life or his purse without a show, at least, of defence. His fellow-passengers, however, have not a very exalted opinion of his personal courage; and the fact that he has struck a woman in a quarrel, tends strongly to increase their doubts. Some little excitement prevails among us in consequence of a report that he has lent his revolver to Captain J., who wants it for the purpose of carrying his threat against his noisy passengers into execution. Mr. Johnson has been questioned about it, but he gives an evasive answer. We have a natural repugnance to being blown up, and cannot entertain a very friendly regard for the minister of peace, and man of mercy, who shall allow himself to become accessory to such a tragical termination of our adventures.
August 6. We have thus far had a fine run from Talcahuana. Soon after leaving that port, we struck the south-east trade-winds, and for nearly three weeks we have sailed before an easy breeze, with our studding sails set, and have scarcely altered a sail during the whole time. This has been a season of rest for the sailors, who have had some hard work to perform in the course of the voyage, and whose labors have borne harder on them in consequence of their ignorance of the duties pertaining to a square-rigged vessel. They had all, I was told, with one exception, shipped as ordinary seamen, though some of them had been fraudulently entered as able seamen.
But now we are beginning to find a change of weather and variable winds. The atmosphere has become very hot, and heavy showers of rain are pouring down upon us. There is also considerable thunder, though we have had but few heavy peals. The wind is light and continually veering from point to point. We are apprehensive of being becalmed, and feel not a little impatience and anxiety at every unfavorable change of the weather.
Our ship is uncomfortable enough in any climate or weather with her crowd of passengers; but it is peculiarly so in this Torrid Zone. At the request of an old man, Mr. Carlow, I have been down to take a look at the main cabin. I found the air very hot and oppressive, and I was soon covered with perspiration. Some portions of the room were dark, there being no means of lighting it, but by the hatches and a few little dead-lights in the deck. They were now prohibited the use of the lamps they had made for themselves, because the smoke was found to annoy Mrs. L—t, into whose state-room a portion of it escaped. The only ventilation which this cabin received, was also through the hatches, and that was obstructed by the houses that were built over them. The floor was damp and dirty, and I was told that it had never been cleansed but by the passengers themselves. An offensive odor filled the room, which was to be expected from the number of the occupants, and the want of ventilation. There were twenty-eight berths in this cabin, occupied by fifty-two passengers. It was impossible for them all to pass the hot nights in such a stifling atmosphere, and the poor old man's eyes moistened as he told me that he was obliged to leave his berth, and pass his nights wherever he could find a place to rest on deck.