Voyage in the "Great Eastern."
On the 7th September, 1861, we embarked on board the steamer "Great Eastern," for New York, the Liverpool dock walls being lined with people to see the great ship start. She was far and away the largest vessel built up to that time, being 679 feet long, 83 feet beam, 48 feet deep, with a tonnage of 18,915; she was propelled by two sets of engines, paddle and screw. It was a memorable voyage. Three days out we encountered a heavy gale, which carried away our boats, then our paddle wheels. Finally our rudder broke, and the huge ship fell helplessly into the trough of the sea. Here we remained for three days, rolling so heavily that everything moveable broke adrift, the saloon was wrecked, and all the deck fittings broke loose. Two swans and a cow were precipitated into the saloon through the broken skylights. The cables broke adrift, and swaying to and fro burst through the plating on one side of the ship. The captain lost all control of his crew, and the condition of things was rendered still more alarming by the men breaking into the storerooms and becoming intoxicated. Some of the passengers were enrolled as guards; we wore a white handkerchief tied round our arms, and patrolled the ship in watches for so many hours each day.
My father was badly cut in the face and head by being thrown into a mirror in the saloon, during a heavy lurch. I never knew a ship to roll so heavily, and her rolls to windward were not only remarkable but very dangerous, as the seas broke over her, shaking her from stem to stern, the noise reverberating through the vessel like thunder. We remained in this alarming condition three days, when chains were fixed to our rudder head and we were able with our screw-engines to get back to Queenstown. My father returned home, not caring to venture to sea again, but I embarked on board the "City of Washington," of the Inman Line, and after a sixteen-day passage arrived in New York.
An amusing incident occurred during the height of the storm we experienced in the "Great Eastern." We were rolling heavily, the condition of the great ship was serious and much alarm was naturally felt. At this juncture a small brig appeared in sight under close-reefed sails. As she rode over the big seas like a bird without taking any water on board, we could not help contrasting her seaworthiness with the condition of our giant ship, which lay like a log at the mercy of the waves. The brig seeing our position bore down upon us and came within hailing distance. My father instructed Captain Walker, of the "Great Eastern," to enquire if she would stand by us, and to offer her master £100 per day if he would do so, but no answer came. The little vessel sailed round us again and again, and the next time she came within hailing distance my father authorised Captain Walker to say he would charter the ship, or if necessary buy her, so anxious was he that she should not leave us. She continued to remain near us all day, and then the weather moderating she sailed away on her voyage. Two years afterwards the captain of the brig called at the office, saying he had been told by a passenger that Mr. Forwood had offered him £100 per day for standing by the "Great Eastern," and claiming £200, two days' charter money. I need not say he was not paid, but I think my father made him a present.
Arrested in New York in 1861.
On my arrival in New York I was arrested, searched, and confined in the Metropolitan Police Station while communications passed with Washington. On my demanding to be informed of the reason of my detention, the Chief of Police told me that an Englishman had been hanged by President Jackson for less than I had done; this was not very cheerful, and he added he expected orders to send me to Fort Lafayette—the place where political prisoners were detained—but he declined to give any reason. I was however released the following day, but kept under the surveillance of the police, which became so intolerable that I went to Canada, and returned home through New Brunswick to Halifax. The journey from Quebec over the frozen lake Temiscuata, through Fredericton to St. John's, was made on sleighs. I slept one night in the hut of a trapper, another at a log hut on a portage where I was detained for a day by a snowstorm. An amusing incident happened on this journey. At Grand Falls I was called upon by the Mayor, who wished, he said, to show me some attention and prove his loyalty to the old country, as he understood I was an envoy going from the Southern States to England. I told him he was mistaken, but he would not accept my denial, and insisted on driving me part of the way in his own magnificently appointed sleigh, and giving me a supper at a place called Tobique. At Halifax another incident befel me. The hotel in which I stayed was burnt down in the night. I escaped with my luggage, but none too soon, for the hotel was only a wooden erection and the fire very quickly destroyed it.
On our arrival home at Queenstown, we heard with great sorrow of the death of the Prince Albert, and of the probability of war between England and America, arising out of the "Trent" affair. I received a communication from the War Office, requesting me to send full notes of my journey across New Brunswick, giving approximately the size of the villages and farm buildings I observed, as it was proposed to march 10,000 British troops up by this route to protect Canada.
The reason of my arrest in New York was, I learned, that the authorities believed that I was conveying despatches and money and intended to cross the military lines and enter the Southern States. My father's firm being largely engaged in business with the South, there was some foundation for this impression. I should add that I received through Secretary Seward an expression of President Lincoln's regret that I should have been subjected to arrest, and an intimation that if I visited Washington he would be glad to see me, but I was then in Canada and did not care to return to the United States.
Political feeling ran very high in New York. I was passing one afternoon the St. Nicholas Hotel, Broadway, when I heard someone call out "Sesesh" (which meant a Southerner), and a man fell, shot down almost at my feet.