Monday, September 11, 1854 ~ At sea

A Sea ~ We had a severe gale in the night, which kept Captain Knowles up until daylight, our great ship was tossed about like a bubble and I confess I had no idea of a blow at sea until I heard the roar of the wind through the rigging last night. I went on deck at nine o’clock, and then it was so dark I could not see my own hand before my face, and the wind was so high that I couldn’t stand on the deck without holding on to some stationary object – it was from the Westward and we ran before it under double reefed topsails. All the cabin passengers slept in their clothes last night. As the storm was commencing a poor fellow, one of the steerage passengers, was dropt into his watery tomb, he died at five in the afternoon, and about eight the body was sewed up in its bedclothes and thus consigned to the sea. He was a Catholic and had friends on board who would have no service performed. We in the cabin did not hear of the death until all was over. This morning the wind blew hard, but the waves were not particularly high, owing to its having changed in the night. This morning we ran 70 miles along side of a large ship, bound for Liverpool, our relative positions in that run only changing a quarter of a mile. She is still this evening as near us as ever. Professor Treadwell and the Captain have been marking her progress by the compass. Captain Knowles informs us that he never knew such close sailing before. Our cabin is veneered on all sides beautifully, but when there is much motion it is really hard to make one’s self heard there, the creaking of the wood is so great. In a palace this cabin would make a perfect gem of a boudoir, but here it seems to us decidedly out of place. The walls are veneered throughout with mahogany inlaid with (white) satin wood, and the ceiling is handsomely gilded. It is painful to contemplate the possibility of its becoming in a few years the resort of a merry whalemans crew. To what base uses do we come at last! Mrs. Treadwell, and other ladies of the passengers are laying about the cabin floor again on mattresses, reading etc., the rough weather makes them feel a little inclined to be sick again. And how miserably they look!

Wednesday, September 6th 1854 ~ At sea

A Whist Marker, used in the English card game "whist."

At Sea ~ Wind still from the East. We passed another Bark bound West this morning, and signalized her. There is very little sea today and we all are not only feeling well, but bright and in high spirits. My health seems to have improved already under the influence of the invigorating sea air. Dr. Gallup has made 36 pills for Lizzie, of monstrous size, all to be taken in four days! For general debility. She is about as well as usual and rather rebels at such a fare. Lizzie and Mary have begun writing home but as we have not yet reached the “banks”, there is but little chance of the letters being sent under two weeks.

About noon today we discovered a new ship on our lee quarter and have been racing with her all day. At present she is about two miles behind. She is about 2000 tons clipper built and Captain Knowles thinks she is the “New York”, on her first trip from N.Y. for Liverpool. If so she left N.Y. on the 25th one day before we left Boston. Which will reach England first? The Capt. Signalized her but she refuses to tell her name. We are both close hauled. We read today 11 weeks in Europe by Clark and had a game of whist in the evening.

Tuesday, September 5th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The wind is again light and poor Captain Knowles sees but a small chance of returning to the bosom of his family for a long while to come, it seems to make him quite blue. He says Lizzie reminds him so much of his wife but the only point of resemblance I can make out is that they are both very short. All the ladies aboard are quite in love with the Captain, with his manly face and gentlemanly bearing. I believe by the way it is quite the style at present to take a tender interest in any captain under whom one crosses the Atlantic (at least for the fair sex). Captain Knowles has some easily seen faults. His habits of command make him peremptory and overbearing toward inferiors and all those over whom he has any kind of authority. We had a polka on deck last evening to the music of the Doctor’s flute. This morning we passed a Hamburg bark, bound West, and were almost near enough to speak her, not quite, but as we signalized, we are in hopes of being reported on her arrival in America. We exchanged longitudes with her. The thermometer stands at 64 today and has ranged from 62 to 70 thus far on the voyage. We have now been out nine and a half days and have only made about seven hundred miles of our course. We breakfast at eight bells, dine at four bells and take tea at four bells. The table is a little dizzy feeling consequent upon holding onto your chair, balancing your plate etc., to say nothing of seeing the movable sack of glasses swinging over one’s head, all this is slightly unpleasant and will always remain so to me. At Breakfast we have coffee and tea, white bread, rye bread, boiled rye, ship and soda biscuit, beef steak, broiled salmon, pickled salmon, etc. At Dinner fish, roast duck, potted pigeons, meat pie, roast beef, stewed tomatoes, green corn, potatoes in all forms, Carolina potatoes, rice, plum pudding, squash pie, gooseberry pie, watermelon, cantaloupe, prunes, figs, nuts and raisins. This was today's dinner and is a fair specimen of all. We have for tea, bread as at breakfast, herrings, cold tongue, smoked beef, stewed prunes, preserved ginger, and Mrs. Venton’s best cake, all provisions either in the ice house or in exhausted-air cases and it is wonderful how fresh everything tastes even the cake seems as if just baked.