LETTER I
Voyage from Greenock to New York—Circumstances of Passengers—Arrival, &c.
Voyage from Greenock to New York—Circumstances of Passengers—Arrival, &c.
New York, July 10, 1818.
As I have already informed you, I sailed from Greenock on the 24th of May last, in the American ship Glenthorn, Stillman Master, bound for this place.
I observed that my fellow emigrants were much affected when about to take a final leave of their native land: some regretting the separation from their native soil, while others, mute and thoughtful, seemed to suffer under feelings of a more tender kind.
To some it may appear inconsistent in people to regret leaving their homes and their friends, while the emigration is voluntarily undertaken; but on this occasion, the paradox will be explained, when their circumstances and views are taken into consideration.
Of our party were three farmers, with their families, whose leases were expired; all of them having declined engaging for a new term of years, {2} under the apprehension of seeing their paternal stock, and the savings of many years’ industry, divided between the landholder and the collector of taxes. A native of Scotland, who had resided several years in America, returned with the intention of resuming business in the town where he was born, but the thick ranks of a necessitous and half employed population, had closed on the place he had left. There was a widow,with two children, on her way to put herself under the protection of a brother in America. With us also were several of the labouring class, whose utmost exertions could only procure the bare support of existence; and ploughmen, who prudently refrained from marrying with fourteen pounds a-year. In short, there was scarcely one of our number whose condition might not perhaps be bettered, or whose prospects could be rendered worse, by the change of country.
In a voyage from Europe to America, most passengers may expect to be sea-sick. Nearly all of them on board the Glenthorn, on this occasion, suffered more or less. For my own part, I never was entirely free from it for more than three-fourths of the passage. This disease is dispiriting while it continues, but as it is believed to produce no permanent injury, but, on the contrary, is thought conducive to future health, the attack is not at all dreaded. People unaccustomed to the seafaring life ought to carry with them those kinds of provisions to which they have been previously accustomed, as the stores of the ship soon become loathsome to the sick. Potatoes will be found acceptable, when the caprice of taste rejects almost every other food; and walking on deck is of service, as the air is better, and the pitching of the ship is considerably less felt, than below.
{3} It is very improper to go to sea in crowded vessels; as epidemic diseases are engendered, and the most dreadful mortality is the consequence. That law of Britain which allows only one passenger for every five tons of burden in American ships (including seamen) is a most beneficial regulation; and while, in American bottoms, the cabin passenger pays L.21, and the steerage passenger L.12, the expense cannot be complained of, while healthand comfort are taken into consideration. It is much to be regretted that the government of England does not extend its humane restriction to its own Canadian settlers, and to emigrants who sail for the United States in British ships.
The 4th of July is celebrated by Americans as the anniversary of their independence, declared in 1776. The captain and seamen were disposed to be joyful in commemoration of this great event. The striped flag was displayed, guns and pistols were fired, accompanied with loud cheers. The passengers, no less enthusiastic, joined in the strongest expressions of their devotedness to the democratic form of government. They indulged in such sentiments as, a sincere wish that the United States may long continue exempt from that excessive corruption, as they thought, which has so long and so much degraded a large portion of the human race;—and their avowed satisfaction at the near prospect of becoming people of the Republic.
On the 8th we came in sight of Long Island, and the high lands of New Jersey; a welcome occurrence to people who had been so long at sea. In the afternoon a pilot came on board. He informed us that the city was in great bustle, as the inhabitants were assembled to deposit the bones of General Montgomery, who fell at Quebec, on the 31st of December, 1775.[1]The remains of the patriotic{4} leader were buried by the ministerialists without the fort, and were to-day interred by his grateful countrymen under the portico of St. Paul’s church, New York. We were sorry that it was not in our power to witness the solemnity.
In the evening we were off the point Sandyhook. The smell of the new hay on the adjacent fields regaled us very agreeably. All seemed elated with joy. A bagpipe and two violins played by turns, and our young people danced on deck till a late hour. During this season of mirth, we were entertained by a sight, perhaps unequalled in the phenomena of an European climate. Some dense black clouds which hung over Long Island, were frequently illuminated by flashes of lightning. It is in vain to attempt a description. About midnight we passed through the Narrows, and soon afterwards anchored on the quarantine ground, about seven miles from New York.
On the morning of the 9th of July, the inspecting surgeon visited us, and allowed the anchor to be weighed. In this situation we had a full view of the shores of Staten and Long Islands. The wooden houses are neat, and the orchards and natural woods have a thriving appearance. It would seem that the people here have a partiality to the Lombardy poplar, which grows to a great height, shooting up its branches nearly perpendicularly; assuming something of the appearance of a spire. The straight rows of these trees, so common here, have an insipid regularity and sameness, more like a file of armed soldiery than an ornamental grove.
Some of the frame houses are painted red, those of the finer sort, white; ornamental railings are also painted white. To an European eye, these colours appear too glaring. The lands seen from the bay are sandy and poor.
{5} The first glimpse of the city of New York is by no means a distinct one. The buildings are much obscured by the forest of masts in front of them; and as the site of the town rises but gently inland, the houses in front conceal, in a great measure, those in the rear, so that the shipping and the numerous spires are the objects most distinctly seen.
Before entering the port we were twice boarded by agents from the Newspaper offices. They inquired for British newspapers, and generally for the news of Europe; they noted down the names of several of our passengers, which they intended to publish in the papers of the afternoon. There are no less than seven newspapers printed in New York daily; the competition of these Journalists is keen, and their industry seems to be great.
We have experienced much good treatment from Captain Stillman. Every passenger is so sensible of this, that a committee of their number was requested to make public testimony of their esteem for him.
We landed yesterday about noon, all in good health and spirits. During the voyage, passengers have experienced no kind of sickness, except that peculiarly incident to the sea.
This letter cannot come immediately into the hands of all my friends; most of them, I hope, will hear that I am arrived in this place in good health. Should you adopt any way of making this and any subsequent communications generally known to them, it will be very gratifying to me, and, besides, will relieve me of the labour of writing many letters; a labour, dictated by the strongest ties of gratitude and affection, but one which it is doubtful if I can accomplish to the satisfaction of my own mind.
FOOTNOTES:[1]General Richard Montgomery (1737-1775) was a native of Ireland, and served with Wolfe at Quebec in 1759. At the outbreak of the Revolutionary War he was appointed commander of the American forces in the Northern Department, being killed in his heroic assault on Quebec, December 31, 1775. Through the courtesy of the British general his body was buried with the honors of war within the unconquered walls of Quebec. Forty-three years later the remains were disinterred, in compliance with a special act of the New York legislature, brought to New York City and deposited with great solemnity beneath a monument in front of St. Paul’s church (July 8, 1818). A full account of the ceremony is contained in the New YorkDaily Advertiserof that date.—Ed.
[1]General Richard Montgomery (1737-1775) was a native of Ireland, and served with Wolfe at Quebec in 1759. At the outbreak of the Revolutionary War he was appointed commander of the American forces in the Northern Department, being killed in his heroic assault on Quebec, December 31, 1775. Through the courtesy of the British general his body was buried with the honors of war within the unconquered walls of Quebec. Forty-three years later the remains were disinterred, in compliance with a special act of the New York legislature, brought to New York City and deposited with great solemnity beneath a monument in front of St. Paul’s church (July 8, 1818). A full account of the ceremony is contained in the New YorkDaily Advertiserof that date.—Ed.
[1]General Richard Montgomery (1737-1775) was a native of Ireland, and served with Wolfe at Quebec in 1759. At the outbreak of the Revolutionary War he was appointed commander of the American forces in the Northern Department, being killed in his heroic assault on Quebec, December 31, 1775. Through the courtesy of the British general his body was buried with the honors of war within the unconquered walls of Quebec. Forty-three years later the remains were disinterred, in compliance with a special act of the New York legislature, brought to New York City and deposited with great solemnity beneath a monument in front of St. Paul’s church (July 8, 1818). A full account of the ceremony is contained in the New YorkDaily Advertiserof that date.—Ed.