University of Virginia Library

I have been sixteen days at sea, and have not
attempted to write a single letter. 'T is true, I have
kept a journal whenever I was able; but that must
be close locked up, unless I was sure to hand it you
with safety.

'T is said of Cato, the Roman Censor, that one of
the three things, which he regretted during his life,
was going once by sea when he might have made
his journey by land. I fancy the philosopher was
not proof against that most disheartening, dispiriting
malady, sea-sickness. Of this I am very sure, that
no lady would ever wish a second time to try the
sea, were the objects of her pursuit within the reach
of a land journey. I have had frequent occasion,
since I came on board, to recollect an observation of

my best friend's, "that no being in nature was so
disagreeable as a lady at sea," and this recollection
has in a great measure reconciled me to the thought
of being at sea without him; for one would not wish,
my dear sister, to be thought of in that light by
those, to whom we would wish to appear in our best
array. The decency and decorum of the most
delicate female must in some measure yield to the
necessities of nature; and, if you have no female
capable of rendering you the least assistance, you
will feel grateful to any one who will feel for you,
and relieve or compassionate your sufferings.

And this was truly the case of your poor sister
and all her female companions, when not one of us
could make her own bed, put on or take off her
shoes, or even lift a finger. As to our other clothing,
we wore the greater part of it until we were
able to help ourselves. Added to this misfortune,
Briesler, my man-servant, was as bad as any of us.
But for Job, I know not what we should have done.
Kind, attentive, quick, neat, he was our nurse for
two days and nights; and, from handling the sails
at the top-gallant-mast head, to the more feminine
employment of making wine-cordial, he has not his
equal on board. In short, he is the favorite of the
whole ship. Our sickness continued for ten days,
with some intermissions. We crawled upon deck
whenever we were able; but it was so cold and
damp, that we could not remain long upon it. And
the confinement of the air below, the constant rolling
of the vessel, and the nausea of the ship, which was

much too tight, contributed to keep up our disease.
The vessel is very deep loaded with oil and potash.
The oil leaks, the potash smokes and ferments.
All adds to the flavor. When you add to all this
the horrid dirtiness of the ship, the slovenliness of
the steward, and the unavoidable slopping and spilling
occasioned by the tossing of the ship, l am sure
you will be thankful that the pen is not in the hand of
Swift or Smollet, and still more so that you are far
removed from the scene. No sooner was I able to
move, than I found it necessary to make a bustle
amongst the waiters, and demand a cleaner abode.
By this time, Briesler was upon his feet, and, as I
found I might reign mistress on board without any
offence, I soon exerted my authority with scrapers,
mops, brushes, infusions of vinegar, &c., and in a
few hours you would have thought yourself in a
different ship. Since which, our abode is much
more tolerable, and the gentlemen all thank me for
my care. Our captain is an admirable seaman,
always attentive to his sails and his rigging; keeps
the deck all night; careful of everybody on board;
watchful that they run no risk; kind and humane to
his men, who are all as still and quiet as any private
family; nothing cross or dictatorial in his manners;
a much more agreeable man than I expected to find
him. He cannot be called a polished gentleman;
but he is, so far as I have seen, a very clever man.

We have for passengers, a Colonel Norton, who is
a grave, sedate man, of a good natural understanding,
improved by business and converse with mankind;

his literary accomplishments not very great. A Mr.
Green, a Scotchman I am persuaded; a high prerogative
man; plumes himself upon his country; haughty
and imperious, but endeavours to hide this with
the appearance of politeness, which, however, he is
too apt to transgress upon any occasion when a
subject arises which does not entirely agree with
his sentiments; he calls himself an Englishman; has
been in the British service during the war, as a
secretary on board some of the British admirals.
He is a man of sense and of reading, the most so of
any we have on board. Next to him is Dr. Clark,
to whom we are under obligations for every kindness
and every attention, that it is in the power of a
gentleman and a physician to show. Humane, benevolent,
tender, and attentive not only to the ladies,
but to every one on board, to the servant as well as
the master, he has rendered our voyage much more
agreeable and pleasant than it possibly could have
been without him. His advice we have stood in
need of, and his care we have felt the benefit of.
A brother could not have been kinder, nor a parent
tenderer, and it was all in the pleasant, easy, cheerful
way, without any thing studied, labored, or fulsome;
the natural result of a good heart, possessed
with the power of making others happy.

'T is not a little attention that we ladies stand in
need of at sea; for it is not once in the twenty-four
hours that we can even cross the cabin without being
held or assisted. Nor can we go upon deck without
the assistance of two gentlemen, and when there, we

are always bound into our chairs. Whilst you,
I imagine, are scorching under the midsummer heat,
we can comfortably bear our double calico gowns,
our baize ones upon them, and a cloth cloak in addition
to all these.

Mr. Foster is another passenger on board, a merchant,
a gentleman soft in his manners, very polite
and kind; loves domestic life, and thinks justly of it.
I respect him on this account. Mr. Spear brings up
the rear, a single gentleman, with a great deal of
good humor, some wit, and much drollery; easy
and happy, blow high or blow low; can sleep and
laugh at all seasons. These are our male companions.
I hardly thought a Lieutenant Mellicot
worth mentioning, who is, I believe, a mere post-companion,
though he keeps not with us except at
meal-times, when he does not behave amiss. My
namesake[1] you know. She is a modest, pretty
woman, and behaves very well.

I have accustomed myself to writing a little every
day, when I was able, so that a small motion of the
ship does not render it more unintelligible than
usual; but there is no time, since I have been at
sea, when the ship is what we call still, that its
motion is not equal to the moderate rocking of a
cradle. As to wind and weather, since we came out,
they have been very fortunate for us in general.
We have had three calm days, and two days contrary

wind, with a storm, I called it; but the sailors
say it was only a breeze. This was upon the Banks
of Newfoundland, the wind at east; through the day
we could not sit in our chairs, only as some gentleman
sat by us with his arm fastened into ours, and
his feet braced against a table or chair, that was
lashed down with ropes; bottles, mugs, plates,
crashing to pieces, first on one side and then on the
other; the sea running mountain-high, and knocking
against the sides of the vessel as though it would
burst them. When I became so fatigued with
the incessant motion as not to be able to sit any
longer, I was assisted into my cabin, where I was
obliged to hold myself in with all my might the remainder
of the night. No person, who is a stranger
to the sea, can form an adequate idea of the debility
occasioned by sea-sickness. The hard rocking of a
ship in a storm, and the want of sleep for many
nights, altogether reduce one to such a lassitude
that you care little for your fate. The old seamen
thought nothing of all this, nor once entertained an
idea of danger. Compared to what they have suffered,
I do suppose it was trifling; but to me it was
alarming, and I most heartily prayed, if this was
only a breeze, to be delivered from a storm.

Our accommodations on board are not what I
could wish, or hoped for. We cannot be alone,
only when the gentlemen are thoughtful enough to
retire upon deck, which they do for about an hour
in the course of the day. Our state-rooms are about
half as large as cousin Betsey's little chamber, with

two cabins in each. Mine had three, but I could not
live so. Upon which Mrs. Adams's brother gave up
his to Abby,[2] and we are now stowed two and two.
This place has a small grated window, which opens
into the companion-way, and by this is the only air
admitted. The door opens into the cabin, where the
gentlemen all sleep, and where we sit, dine, &c.
We can only live with our door shut, whilst we dress
and undress. Necessity has no law; but what should
I have thought on shore, to have laid myself down to
sleep in common with half a dozen gentlemen?
We have curtains, it is true, and we only in part
undress, about as much as the Yankee bundlers; but
we have the satisfaction of falling in with a set of
well-behaved, decent gentlemen, whose whole deportment
is agreeable to the strictest delicacy, both
in word and action.

If the wind and weather continue as favorable as
they have hitherto been, we expect to make our
passage in thirty days, which is going a hundred
miles a day. 'T is a vast tract of ocean which we
have to traverse; I have contemplated it with its
various appearances. It is indeed a secret world of
wonders, and one of the sublimest objects in Nature.

They proclaim the Deity, and are objects too vast
for the control of feeble man. That Being alone,

who "maketh the clouds his chariot, and rideth upon
the wings of the wind," is equal to the government
of this stupendous part of creation.

And now, my dear sister, after this minute account
of my important self, which, judging by myself, you
take an affectionate interest in, I call upon you to
inquire after your welfare, my much esteemed
brother's, and my dear niece's. Not a day or night
but I visit your calm retreat, look at my own deserted
habitation, and recollect past endearments
with a melancholy composure, and really am so
vain as to commiserate you on account of the vacuity
I fancy my absence occasions.

"We are so formed," says an ingenious writer,
"as to be always pleased with somewhat in prospect,
however distant, or however trivial." Thus do I
gratify myself with the idea of returning to my native
land, though the prospect is distant. "Pleasures,"
says Pope, "are ever in our hands or
eyes." I have lost part of the other line, but
the idea is, that, if we are not in the present possession
of them, they rise to us in prospect.[3] I
will now tell you where I am sitting. At a square
table in the great cabin, at one corner of which are
Colonel Norton and Mr. Foster, engaged in playing
backgammon; at the other, Mr. Green, writing;
and at the fourth, Dr. Clark, eating ham. Behind
Colonel Norton, Mr. Spear, reading Thomson's
"Seasons" with his hat on. Young Lawrence behind

me, reading Anson's "Voyages;" Esther,[4]
knitting; the steward and boys, bustling about after
wine and porter; and last of all, as the least importantly
employed, Mrs. Adams and Abby, in their
cabin asleep, and this at twelve o'clock in the day.
O shame! The Captain comes down and finds me
writing; kindly tenders me some large paper to
write upon; I believe he thinks I shall have occasion
for it. This man has a kindness in his disposition,
which his countenance does not promise. Mr. Green
comes down from deck, and reports that the mate
says we are sixteen hundred miles on our way. This
is good nearing; I can scarcely realize myself upon
the ocean, or that I am within fourteen hundred
miles of the British coast. I rejoice with trembling;
painful and fearful ideas will arise and intermix with
the pleasurable hopes of a joyful meeting of my long
absent friend. I frequently recollect some lines of
Miss More's, in her "Sir Eldred of the Bower,"
describing a mixture of hope and anxiety. She
says;

I shall write, whilst I am on board, whenever I can
catch a quiet time. It is an amusement to me; reading
tires one; work I do sometimes, but, when there

is no writing, there is less pleasure in working; I
shall keep the letter open until I arrive, and put it on
board the first vessel I find coming to America.
'T is impossible for me to find any variety at sea
to entertain my friends with, so that this letter with
all its inaccuracies must be submitted to them. Do
not however expose me, especially where I have a
little credit; you know very well that affection and
intimacy will cover a multitude of faults.