Weighed down under a pressure of despondency, arising partly from temporary illness, and partly from the greatness of the enterprise I had undertaken, and whose event was so uncertain, I left Wilbraham on Thursday morning, June 3d, 1841. A pleasant passage, by the way of Springfield and Hartford, brought us into New York early the next morning. By the following Monday, the 7th of June, we were all snugly stowed in a state-room of the second cabin on board the splendid packet-ship, George Washington, bound for Liverpool.
Before we sailed, however, I was fleeced of seven dollars by the cook of the ship. As passengers in the second cabin, we had the privilege of furnishing ourselves with provisions. For the sum just mentioned, the cook had agreed to do all our cooking at the galley, insisting, however, on being paid in advance, because, he averred, several passengers, on former occasions, had obtained his services and failed to pay him; besides, he wanted to leave all the money he could with his wife. These arguments were, of course, unanswerable, and I paid him the sum demanded. Judge, then, of my surprise, when, a few minutes before we hauled off, the captain engaged another cook; the first having suddenly made himself among the missing. Should the reader ever have occasion to voyage, he may profit by the remembrance of this anecdote.
We then hauled off into the stream; towed by a steamboat, we soon cleared the harbor of New York. Sandy Hook speedily lay behind us; the pilot wished us a pleasant voyage, and away we dashed into the wide Atlantic, buoyed up by the confidence of the hope that a few weeks would behold us safely landed on the shores of dear old England.
The details of a voyage across the Atlantic have been so often laid before the public by travellers, that they have now lost most of that interest which they would possess were they less familiar. I shall not, therefore, detain the reader with the particulars of my passage, except to quote the experience of one day from my journal.
Saturday, June 12th. Went on deck early in the morning; found it very warm. We passed two ships on the same course with ourselves. I saw a rainbow on our starboard quarter, which reminded me of the old saying among sailors, “Rainbow in the morning, sailors take warning.” It was then blowing a stiff breeze from the west. All the sails were up, studding sails out below and aloft. The wind increased during the morning, with rain. We soon had heavy thunder, with sharp lightning; the weather growing squally, we took in our studding sails. Passed another ship; wind increasing with violent rain.
One o’clock, P. M. Sailors have plenty to do to shorten sail. Furled top-gallant sails, reefed mizzen topsail, fore topsail, and main topsail. We are running before the wind like a race-horse, at the rate of twelve knots an hour.
Two o’clock, P. M. More thunder and lightning, which threatened vengeance on our poor ship. The lightning is very sharp; we have no conductor up; it plays all around us, and, as it strikes the water, it hisses like red-hot iron. Several of the sailors felt a shock in descending the rigging, especially the first and second mates. We expected it would strike us every moment, but a kind Providence protected us. The sea runs very high, and the ship flies about as if crazy. We have two men at the helm, who can scarcely keep her right; it seems that she will pitch under every moment.
Eight and one-half o’clock, P. M. Sea still rolling heavily; we have shipped several heavy seas.
Nine o’clock, P. M. Wind has shifted, and the weather is clearing off.
During the whole of this gale, many of the passengers were much alarmed, and some of them spent their time in praying and crying to the Lord. How strange that men will leave their eternal interests to an hour of danger, and forget them again the moment it passes away!
The first Sabbath of our life at sea, by permission of Captain Barrows—who, by the way, was a very gentlemanly, kind commander—I held a religious meeting on the quarter or poop-deck. My audience contained all the cabin passengers, with most of those in the steerage, the captain and his mates, together with most of the crew. I told them I was not a parson, but I would talk to them as well as I could. After singing and prayer, I spoke from Jonah i. 6; alluding, among other things, to the late storm, and exhorting them not to trust to storm religion, but to become the followers of God from genuine principle. My audience favored me with profound attention. Whether they were benefitted or not, the great day must determine. It was in this same ship that the eloquent Robert Newton returned to England. He favored her crew and passengers, every Sabbath of the voyage, with one of his excellent and powerful discourses.
The following Sabbaths, owing to the weather and adverse circumstances, I contented myself with distributing tracts and with discoursing personally with the passengers and crew.
On the 26th of June, we saw the Irish coast on our weather-beam, and on the evening of the 27th, we came to an anchor off Liverpool, after a short passage of twenty days. Here, a steamboat came alongside, bringing several custom-house officers, who came on board, and carrying our cabin passengers ashore. The next morning we hauled into the magnificent docks of this celebrated city of commerce, where our baggage was landed under the spacious sheds that surround the wharves. From thence it was conveyed, in small carts, drawn by donkeys, to the custom-house for inspection. This tedious process over, the passengers separated, each bound to his respective home; for, having passed the ordeal of the custom-house, every man is left at full liberty to go whither he pleases. I and my family proceeded to a tavern, contrasting, as we went along, the dark, dingy aspect of Liverpool, everywhere discolored by the fumes of coal-smoke, with the light, cheerful aspect of our American cities; and giving the preference to the latter, notwithstanding my English prejudices.
The next morning we all took seats in the railroad cars for Stafford, some seventy miles distant from Liverpool. After passing through the tunnel, under the city, of more than a mile in length, we emerged into a beautiful country, adorned on all sides with antique buildings and rural scenery. These passed before us like the scenes in a panorama, and, by ten o’clock, A. M., we reached the stopping-place, a short distance from Stafford. Here we were literally in danger of being torn asunder by the eagerness of two hackmen, who, as we were the only passengers left at the dépôt, were especially zealous for our patronage. A police officer, one of whom is stationed at every dépôt on the road, speedily relieved us from their importunity. Stepping up, he asked me which man I would employ. Pointing to one of them, the other dropped my baggage, and in a few minutes, we were at the door of my brother-in-law, Mr. William Tills.
Although I had not seen my sister for thirty years, yet, no sooner did she see me, than, throwing her arms around my neck, she exclaimed, “Oh, my brother!” I need not add, that our reception was cordial, and our stay with them characterized by every trait of genuine hospitality.
The town was alive with the bustle of an election; flags and streamers were floating over every tavern-sign and public building. Men, women and children crowded the streets, flushed with the excitement of party rivalry, while the continual pealing of the bells added a vivacity and liveliness to the scene, of which an American, who has never heard the merry ding-dong of a full peal of bells, can form no adequate conception. By five o’clock that afternoon, the polls closed, and the ceremony of chairing the successful candidates took place. First came a band of music, playing lively airs; next followed the members elect, richly dressed, with ribbons on their hats, and seated on chairs wreathed with flowers and ribbons, and surrounded with banners bearing various devices. These chairs were borne on men’s shoulders, who proceeded through the streets, amid immense cheering from the crowds who followed, and from the ladies and citizens, who appeared waving their handkerchiefs from the windows; the members, meanwhile, bowing, with their hats in their hands, until they reached the spot where their chaises waited to convey them to their respective homes. The sight was one of great interest to a stranger, and I advise every American who visits England, by all means, to witness an election day if possible.
We remained with my brother-in-law about a week, visiting the various places and buildings whose antiquity or public character clothed them with especial interest. The town itself contains about eleven hundred inhabitants, and is the shire town of the county of Staffordshire. Its chief business is the manufacture of shoes. Among its ancient buildings, are the remains of a baronial castle, whose moss-covered battlements insensibly conduct the meditations of the beholder back to the days of feudal grandeur and knightly chivalry. St. Mary’s Church is also a venerable Gothic structure, of solid masonry, whose walls have withstood the storms and changes of about ten centuries. They were about to expend £10,000 in repairing the dilapidations of time. I heard one discourse from the curate, and was especially delighted with the grandeur and sublimity of the music from its magnificent organ, as it pealed along the aisles of the time-worn building, with an effect never witnessed in our smaller and more modern structures in America.
Here also is the county prison, modelled, in most of its arrangements, after the state-prisons of America. It contained five hundred prisoners. A lunatic asylum and a hospital, or infirmary, for the poor, are found among the products of its benevolence: the former contained three hundred unfortunate occupants.
The poor-house is a large commodious building, constructed of brick and stone, surrounded with large airy yards and gardens. It has also yards or courts within its walls, used as play-grounds for the children. The order within was excellent; every room looked remarkably neat and clean; the children were comfortably clothed, and wore an air of satisfaction and contentment. The whole house was under the control of a governor and matron who were subject to the inspection of the board of overseers, chosen by the people. One excellent rule of the house struck me as being very useful: it provided for the admission of poor travellers to a supper and lodging; requiring them, if dirty, to undergo a thorough ablution and to change their linen. In the morning two or three hours’ work was exacted as payment, and they were suffered to depart. The house had its teacher and chaplain; and altogether I thought that a great improvement had taken place in the poor-laws of the country.
Having been so long away from England, everything peculiarly English struck me with almost as much force as it would a native American. Hence, my feelings revolted at the sight of the innumerable beggars and vagrants, who crowded the streets. Italians, with their organs, white mice, or monkeys; poor barefooted children, with their baskets of matches; and, worse than either, houseless families imploring a crust for their half-naked little ones, with many a tale of sorrow and woe, were sights which greeted my eye and pained my heart every day. A sad spectacle indeed, and one which robs the lustre of the British crown of many a brilliant ray. The true glory of a people is their internal prosperity, and not the extension of their territory.
The fifth of July renewed the excitement of the day I arrived. It was the time appointed for the county election. Similar scenes to those before described took place, accompanied with excessive drunkenness. Every tavern, and the number seemed endless, was crowded, mostly with the laboring classes, who were spending their hard-earned pence, for foaming tankards of English ale, the favorite beverage of John Bull, and one of the great............