The few matters on which I write which did not come under my
own observation, I learned from trustworthy persons who have been long
resident in the country.
Of Canada it is scarcely necessary to speak here. Perhaps an English
writer may be inclined to adopt too eulogistic a tone in speaking of that
noble and loyal colony, in which British institutions are undergoing a
Transatlantic trial, and where a free people is protected by British laws.
There are, doubtless, some English readers who will be interested in the
brief notices which I have given of its people, its society, and its
astonishing capabilities. [Footnote: I must here record my grateful
acknowledgments to a gentleman in a prominent public position in Canada,
who has furnished me with much valuable information which I should not
otherwise have obtained.]
The notes from which this volume is taken were written in the lands of
which it treats: they have been amplified and corrected in the genial
atmosphere of an English home. I will not offer hackneyed apologies for
its very numerous faults and deficiencies; but will conclude these tedious
but necessary introductory remarks with the sincere hope that my readers
may receive one hundredth part of the pleasure from the perusal of this
volume which I experienced among the scenes and people of which it is too
imperfect a record.
* * * * *
Although bi-weekly steamers ply between England and the States, and many
mercantile men cross the Atlantic twice annually on business, and think
nothing of it, the voyage seems an important event when undertaken for the
first time. Friends living in inland counties, and those who have been
sea-sick in crossing the straits of Dover, exaggerate the dangers and
discomforts of ocean travelling, and shake their heads knowingly about
fogs and icebergs.
Then there are a certain number of boxes to be packed, and a very
uncertain number of things to fill them, while clothing has to be provided
suitable to a tropical summer, and a winter within the arctic circle. But
a variety of minor arrangements, and even an indefinite number of leave-
takings, cannot be indefinitely prolonged; and at eight o'clock on a
Saturday morning in 1854, I found myself with my friends on the landing-
stage at Liverpool.
Whatever sentimental feelings one might be inclined to indulge in on
leaving the shores of England were usefully and instantaneously
annihilated by the discomfort and crush in the Satellite steam-tender,
in which the passengers were conveyed, helplessly huddled together like a
flock of sheep, to the Canada, an 1850-ton paddle-wheel steamer of the
Cunard line, which was moored in the centre of the Mersey.
An investigation into the state-rooms, and the recital of disappointed
expectations consequent on the discovery of their very small dimensions,
the rescue of "regulation" portmanteaus from sailors who were running off
with them, and the indulgence of that errant curiosity which glances at
everything and rests on nothing, occupied the time before the arrival of
the mail-boat with about two tons of letters and newspapers, which were
consigned to the mail-room with incredible rapidity.
Then friends were abruptly dismissed - two guns were fired - the lashings
were cast off - the stars and stripes flaunted gaily from the 'fore - the
captain and pilot took their places on the paddle-boxes - the bell rang -
our huge paddle-wheels revolved, and, to use the words in which the same
event was chronicled by the daily press, "The Cunard royal mail steamer
Canada, Captain Stone, left the Mersey this morning for Boston and
Halifax, conveying the usual mails; with one hundred and sixty-eight
passengers, and a large cargo on freight."
It was an auspiciously commenced voyage as far as appearances went. The
summer sun shone brightly - the waves of the Mersey were crisp and foam-
capped - and the fields of England had never worn a brighter green. The
fleet of merchant-ships through which we passed was not without an
interest. There were timber-ships, huge and square-sided, unmistakeably
from Quebec or Miramichi - green high-sterned Dutch galliots - American
ships with long black hulls and tall raking masts - and those far-famed
"Black Ball" clippers, the Marco Polo and the Champion of the Seas, -
in short, the ships of all nations, with their marked and distinguishing
peculiarities. But the most interesting object of all was the screw troop-
ship Himalaya, which was embarking the Scots Greys for the Crimea - that
regiment which has since earned so glorious but fatal a celebrity on the
bloody field of Balaklava.
It is to be supposed that to those who were crossing the Atlantic for the
first time to the western hemisphere there was some degree of excitement,
and that regret was among the feelings with which they saw the coast of
England become a faint cloud on the horizon; but soon oblivion stole over
the intellects of most of the passengers, leaving one absorbing feeling of
disgust, first to the viands, next to those who could partake of them, and
lastly to everything connected with the sea. Fortunately this state of
things only lasted for two days, as the weather was very calm, and we ran
with studding-sails set before a fair wind as far as the Nova Scotian
coast.
The genius of Idleness presided over us all. There were five ample meals
every day, and people ate, and walked till they could eat again; while
some, extended on sofas, slept over odd volumes of novels from the ship's
library, and others played at chess, cards, or backgammon from morning to
night. Some of the more active spirits played "shuffle-boards," which kept
the deck in an uproar; while others enjoyed the dolce far niente in
their berths, except when the bell summoned to meals. There were weather-
wise people, who smoked round the funnel all day, and prophesied foul
winds every night; and pertinacious querists, who asked the captain every
hour or two when we should reach Halifax.
