Changes and improvements of very great importance to the travelling community have taken place within the last few years, not only in regard to the ocean steamships, but also in regard to facilities for embarkation and landing, and this very largely owing to the lively competition of Southampton and the inducements which it has to offer as a shipping port. The dredging of the bar at the mouth of the Mersey, so as to admit of sea-going vessels entering the port at any state of the tide, is not the least important of the changes referred to. Until quite recently ocean steamers had frequently to come to anchor six or eight miles from the mouth of the river, and wait outside for hours till the tide would rise. That obstruction has been removed, and now the largest steamers can cross the bar at almost any state of the tide. But that is not all. The tedious and discomfortable method of being conveyed from ship to shore in a “tender” has also been done away with. The wonder is that it was submitted to so long. The ocean steamship on her arrival at Liverpool is now brought alongside the landing-stage, and instead of being obliged to drive in a cab or omnibus across the city a mile or more to the railway station for London or elsewhere, the railway and the station have come down to the water’s edge, and you pass at once from the ship to the railway train, and immediately proceed on your journey. Passengers for New York may leave Euston Station, London, at noon by a special train of the London and North Western Railway, and find themselves on the landing-stage at Liverpool at 4.15 p.m., the run of over two hundred miles being made, perhaps, without a stoppage—looking for their luggage, as Englishmen are accustomed to do, and astonished to learn that, by some occult system of handling, and, most strange of all, without a “tip,” it is already on board the ship!

Each of these ships is designed to carry six hundred first-class and over one thousand second and third-class passengers. The accommodation provided for them are of the most elaborate description. No expense has been spared in the internal fittings of the ships. Everything that science and skill and refined taste could suggest has been brought into requisition. A more facile pen than ours describes the public rooms, as we call them, as follows, in terms by no means too appreciative: “The dining saloon is a vast, lofty apartment near the middle of the ship, one hundred feet long, sixty-two feet broad, and ten feet high, capable of seating at dinner 430 passengers in their revolving armchairs. The decorations are highly artistic. The ceiling is panelled in white and gold, the sides in Spanish mahogany, and the upholstering is in a dark, rich red, figured frieze velvet, with curtains to match. There are nooks and corners where small parties may dine in complete seclusion. The forty side-lights are of unusual size. Fresh air is admitted by patent ventilators in the roughest weather. For lighting, as well as ventilation, there is an opening in the ceiling in the centre of the room, 24 x 16 feet, surmounted by a dome of stained glass reaching a height of thirty-three feet above the floor. The drawing-room is a splendid apartment, 60 x 30 feet. The walls are ornamented with satin wood, richly carved. The furniture is upholstered in rich velvets and brocades. In the cosy fireplace there is a brass grate and a hearth laid with Persian tiles. The ceiling is in pine, decorated in light tones, old ivory prevailing, with not too much gilding. A Grand piano and an American organ are also provided. The library, 29 x 24 feet, is very ornate. It is suitably furnished with writing tables and writing materials, and a handsome book-case filled with a choice selection of books. The smoking-room, 40 x 32 feet, is decorated in the Scottish baronial style. The whole tone of the room is suggestive of otium cum dignitate. The ordinary staterooms are lofty and well ventilated, with cunning devices for the saving of room and making things look pleasant and comfortable. Then there are suites of rooms elaborately furnished with tables and bedsteads and bath-rooms, and every conceivable luxury of that sort, for those who are able and willing to pay for them.” The accommodation for second-class passengers is in keeping with that for the first. These, too, have their elegant dining-room, and drawing-room, and smoking-room. Even the third-class can rejoice with their neighbours in “the comforts of smoke.”

One of these ships, when carrying her full complement of passengers, will start on her voyage provisioned somewhat on this scale: 20,000 lbs. of fresh beef, 1,000 lbs. of corned beef, 10,000 lbs. of mutton, 1,400 lbs. of lamb, 500 lbs. of veal, 500 lbs. of pork, 3,500 lbs. of fresh fish, 1,000 fowls—400 chickens, 250 ducks and geese, 100 turkeys, 30 tons of potatoes, 30 hampers of vegetables, 18,000 eggs, 6,000 lbs. of ham, 3,000 lbs. of butter, etc., etc.; 13,650 bottles of ale and porter, 6,650 bottles of mineral waters, 1,600 bottles of wines and spirits, are frequently consumed on a single voyage.

The various vessels of the Cunard fleet between them carry on an average 110,000 passengers per annum, besides 600,000 tons of merchandise and 50,000 carcases of dead meat in refrigerators, over a distance of one million miles annually. The Campania and Lucania, owing to the large space occupied by their machinery, only carry about 1,600 tons of freight each.

The order and discipline on board a Cunard liner is that of a man-of-war. The vessels have been built under a special survey, and combine in their construction the best known appliances, in cases of fire, collision, or any other marine contingency, for the safety of the ship and its living freight. The watertight bulkheads are sixteen in number, and will enable the ship to float with any two or even three of the compartments filled with water. The life-boat equipment and service is ample and thoroughly organized. In short, everything is made subservient to safety.

Some idea of the cost of running vessels of this size and speed may be formed when it is stated that the daily average consumption of coal is nearly four hundred tons, but when urged to utmost speed it would be nearer five hundred tons. The crew, all told, number about 424, of whom 195 are required to attend to the engines and boilers alone. In the sailing department, from the captain to the lamplighter, about sixty-five; in the steward’s department, including 8 stewardesses, about 120, and in the cook’s department, about 45. These 424 persons must be paid and fed at a cost of from $12,000 to $15,000 a month. Each of the ships must have cost over $3,000,000, the interest upon which, at four per cent., is $120,000 per annum; add the enormous cost of provisioning the ship for perhaps six hundred cabin passengers, who, for the most part, expect to fare more sumptuously every day they are on board than they do at home; and one thousand intermediate and steerage passengers, who must live like fighting-cocks; then estimate, if you can, the cost of insurances, agencies, advertising, port charges, pilotage; write off a reasonable percentage for wear and tear; these put together represent an amount so formidable as to leave a very slender margin for profits. At the last annual meeting of the shareholders a dividend of 2½ per cent. for the year 1897 was declared, which was considered a good showing.

Since 1840 the Cunard Company have employed no less than fifty-six first-class passenger steamships in the Atlantic service alone. The entire fleet at present consists of thirty-three ships, with a total tonnage of 124,124, and 153,732 horse-power, and maintains regular communication from Liverpool to New York, Boston, France and almost every country in the Mediterranean. Excepting some of the ships acquired by purchase, all the others were built to order on the Clyde. In all these fifty-eight years the Cunard Company has only lost three ships. Through the mistake of her pilot, the Columbia, one of the first Atlantic fleet, ran ashore during a fog near Cape Sable, N.S., in July, 1843, and became a total wreck, but her mails and passengers were safely landed. In 1872 the Tripoli, of the Mediterranean Line, was wrecked on the Tuskar Rocks in St. George’s Channel, half-way between Cork and Dublin, but no lives were lost. In 1886 the company met with its severest loss by the sinking of the magnificent steamship Oregon, recently purchased from the Guion Company. Early in the morning of the 4th of March she was run into by an unknown sailing vessel when about fifty miles from New York, and such were the injuries she sustained she gradually filled with water and went to the bottom, not, however, before the whole ship’s company, numbering 995 souls were safely transferred to the Fulda of the North German Lloyd Line, which fortunately came up to the scene of the disaster in the nick of time. Her bulkheads should have saved her from going under, and would have done so, but for some unexplained obstruction to the closing of a watertight door. As it was, the bulkheads kept her afloat long enough to save the lives of all on board.

Among the famous captains in the forties were C. H. E. Judkins, James Stone, William Harrison, Ed. G. Lott, Theodore Cook, Captain Moodie, and James (afterwards Sir James) Anderson who commanded the Great Eastern on some of her cable-laying expeditions. Captain Harrison was the first commander of the Great Eastern, and was drowned in the Solent when going ashore from his ship in a dingy. Captain Judkins was born at Chester in 1811; he entered the Cunard service in 1840 as chief officer of the SS. Acadia: was appointed commander of the Britannia that same year, and was successively master of the Hibernia, Canada, Persia and Scotia. He lived to be Commodore of the fleet and retired from the sea in 1871, after having made more than five hundred voyages across the Atlantic without any serious accident, and being able to say that the Cunard Company at that date had lost neither a life nor a letter. Captain Judkins died in 1876. He was a typical British sailor. He could be exceedingly gracious, and when the mood struck him he could be gruff. I remember making a voyage with him on the Hibernia in 1843, on which occasion he ran across from Halifax to Liverpool under a cloud of canvas, with studding sails set low and aloft most of the time, a dense fog all the way, but he picked up his pilot off Cape Clear, just where he expected to find him, and went snoring up the Channel, growling like a bear at the captain of a Dublin steamer who would not get out of his way, and whom in his wrath he threatened to send to “Davie Jones’ locker.” The voyage was made in nine days and a half, I think, which was accounted a marvellous run in those days. Captain Lott was one of the most genial of men and very popular. He, too, was banqueted on the completion of his five hundredth trip. It has been said of him that his good nature was occasionally ruffled when liberties, unconsciously or otherwise, were taken with his name; as, for example, when a worthy minister officiating on board took for his text, “Remember Lot’s wife”; and again, when a rough sailor complained in his hearing that his pork was “as salt as Lot’s wife.”

Sailors, as a rule, are not given to talk shop, and are quick to resent idle talk in others. The story is told of Captain Theodore Cook that one day when taking his noon observation, a cloud interrupted his vision. Just then a passenger coming along said with a patronizing air, “Captain Cook, I’m afraid that cloud prevented you from making your observation.” “Yes, sir,” replied the potentate of the sea, “but it did not prevent you making yours.”[14]

At the time of the “Trent Difficulty,” as it was called, in 1861, the Australasian and the Persia of the Cunard Line were chartered by the British Government to bring out troops to Canada. On the 4th of December orders were received to prepare the Australasian with all speed for this service; her fittings were completed on the 10th, she took in her coal on the 11th, and sailed on the 13th with the 60th Rifles. On the 5th of the same month similar orders were received for the Persia, which sailed on the 16th with 1,180 troops, consisting of 1st Battalion of the 16th Regiment and a detachment of sappers. Captain Cook, of the Australasian, having encountered much ice in the entrance to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, had to turn back, and took his ship to Halifax and thence to St. John, New Brunswick, where he landed his contingent. Judkins, on the other hand, brought the Persia right up to Bic and landed his men, but, the ice threatening to keep him there, he quickly bolted for the open sea, leaving his boats behind him!