Front matter
B ■ I I OVER THE OCEAN; OR, SIGHTS AND SCENES IN FOREIGN LANDS. BY CURTIS GUILD, EDITOR OF THE BOSTON COMMERCIAL BULLETIN. BOSTON : LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. NEW YORK: LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 1S71. Entered, according to Act os Congress, in the year 1871, li v LEE A X D SHEPARD, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Cambridge: Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, No. 19 Spring Lane.
Preface
. The following pages are the record of the fruition of years of desire and anticipation ; probably the same that fills the hearts of many who will read them — a tour in Europe. The habits of observation, acquired by many years' con stant occupation as a journalist, were found by she author to have become almost second nature, even when the duties of that profession were thrown aside for simple gratification and enjoyment; consequently, during a journey of nearly seven months, which was enjoyed with all the zest of a first tour, the matter which composes this volume was prepared. Its original fonn was in a series of sketches in the columns of the Boston Commercial Bulletin. In these the writer attempted to give as vivid and exact an idea of the sights and scenes which he witnessed as could be conveyed to those who had never visited Europe.
Whether describing Westminster Abbey, or York Minster, Stratford-onAvon, or the streets of London; the wonders of the Louvre, or the gayeties and glitter of Paris ; the gran deur of the Alpine passes ; the quaintness of old continental cities; experiences of post travelling; the romantic beauties PKEFACE. of the Italian lakes ; the underground wonders of Adelsberg, or the aqueous highways of Venice, — the author aimed to give many minute particulars, which foreign letter-writers deem of too httle importance, to mention, but which, never theless, are of great interest to the reader. That the effort was, in some measure, successful, has been evinced by a demand for the sketches in permament form, sufficient to warrant the publication of this volume. In so presenting them, it is with the belief that it may be pleasant to those who have visited the same scenes to re visit them in fancy with the writer, and with a hope that the volume may, in some degree, serve as a guide to those who intend to go " over the ocean," as well as an agreeable entertainment to the stay-at-homes. C. G. CONTENTS.
Chapter I. Taqb
Going Abroad. — What it costs. — Hints to Tourists. — Life on board Ship. — Land Ho ! — Examining Luggage. — The Emerald Isle. — Blarney Castle. — Dublin. — Dublin Castle. — St. Patrick's Cathedral. — Cheap John's Paradise. — Phœnix Park. — Across the Irish Sea, — Railroad travelling in England. — Guard ta. Conductor. — Word to the Wise. — Railroad Stations. — An Old English City. — Chester Cathedral. — The City Walls , . . . 1-28
Chapter II
Chester to Liverpool. — An English Breakfast. — A Trial of Patience. — Liverpool Docks — St. George's Hall. — Poverty and Suffering. — The Lake District. — Home of the Poets. — Keswick. — An English Church. — The Druids' Temple, — Brougham Hall. — A Roadside Inn 28-48
Chapter III
Edinburgh. — Historic Streets. — Edinburgh Castle. — Bonnie Dundee. — Rooms of Historic Story. — The Scottish Regalia. — Curiosities of the Old City.— Holyrood Palace. — Relics of the Past. — Holyrood Abbey. — Antiquarian Museum. — Scott and Scotland. — Hawthornden. — Roslin Chapel. — Melrose Abbey. — The Abbey Hotel. — Abbotsford. — Stirling Castle. — The Tournament Field. — Field of Bannockburn. — Lady of the Lake Scenes. — Scotch Lakes and Hills 47-79
Chapter IV
Glasgow Cathedral. — Vestiges of Vandalism. — Bible Stories in Colored Glass. — The Actor's Epitaph. — Tarn O'Shanter's Ride. — Burns's Cottage. — Kirk Alloway — A Reminder from the Witches. — Bonnie Doon. — Newv VI CONTENTS. castle-on-Tyne. — York. — Beauties of York Minster. — Old Saxon Relics. — Sheffield. — The Cutlery WorkB. — English Mechanics.— English Ale.— Chatsworth. — Interior of the Palace. — Sculpture Gallery— Landscape Effects. — Grand Conservatory. — Haddon Hall 80-115
Chapter V
Kenilworth. — Stratford on Avon. — Interesting Mementos. — Stratford Church. — Shakespeare's Safeguard. — Warwick Castle. — Dungeon and Hall. — Warder's Horn and Warwick Vase. — Leicester's Hospital. — Beauchamp Chapel. — Mugby Junction. — Oxford. —The Mitre Tavern. — Bodleian Library. — Literary Treasures. — Curiosities and Rarities. — Story of an Old Portrait. — Queen Bess on Matrimony. —Addison's Walk. — Boating on the Isis. — Martyr's Memorial 116-151
Chapter VI
London. — Feeing Servants. — Railway Porters. — London Hotels. — Sights in London Streets. — Cabs and Cab-drivers. — London Shops. — Hints to Buyers. — A London Banking-house. — Routine vs. Courtesy. — Westminster Abbey. — Tombs of Kings and Warriors. — Poets' Corner. — Tributes to Genius. — Penny Steamboat Trip. — Kew Gardens. — The Star and Garter. 153-1S5
Chapter VII
The Original Wax Works. — London Theatres. — Full Dress at the Opera. — Flay Bills. — A Palace for the People. — ParkB of London. — ZoBlogical (jardens.— The Tower of London. — The Silver Key.— Site ofthe Scaffold.— Knights in Armor. — Regalia of England. — St. Paul's. — The Whispering Gallery. — Up into the Ball. — Down into the Crypt. — Gog and Magog. — Bank of England. — Hampton Court Palace. — The Gardens and People. Windsor Castle. — Windsor Parks. — London Newspapers. — The Times. The British Museum. — Bibliographical Curiosities. — Egyptian Galleries.— A Wealth of Antiquities. — Original Magna Charta. — Priceless Manuscripts 1S5-246
Chapter VIII
From London to Paris.— Grand Hotels. — The Arch of Triumph. — Paris by Gaslight. — Site of the Guillotine. — Improvements in Paris. The Bastile. — The Old Guard. — The Louvre. — Gallery of Masterpieces.— Relics of Napoleon I. — Palais Royal. — Jewelry. — French Funeral. — Pere La Chaise.— Millions in Marble. — Tomb of Bonaparte. — Versailles. —Halls of the Cru- CONTENTS. VII sades. — Gallery of the Empire. — Gallery of Battles. — Theatre In the Pal ace. — Fountains at Versailles. — Notre Dame. — Sainte Chapelle. — The Madeleine. — The Pantheon. — Les Champs Elyseds.— Cafts Chantants.— The Jardin Mabille. — The Luxembourg. — Palace of St. Cloud Shops in Paris. — Bargains ' 246-309
Chapter IX
Good by to Paris.— Church of St. Gudule. — Field of Waterloo. — Brussels Lace. — Antwerp. — The Cathedral Spire. — Dusseldorf. — Cologne Cathedral. — Riches of the Church. — Up the Rhine. — Bridge of Boats. — Coblentz and Ehrenbreitstein. — Stolzenfels. — Legendary Castles. — Bingen on the Rhine. — Roman Remains. — Mayence. — Wiesbaden. — Gambling Halls. — Frankfort-on-the-Main. — Heidelberg Castle. — The Great Tun. — The King's Seat. — Baden-Baden. — Sabbath Amusement. — Satan's Snare baited. — Among the Gamblers. — Scene at the Table. — Strasburg Cathedral. — Strasburg Clock. — Clock at Basle. — Swiss Railways. — Travelling in Switzerland. — Zurich and its Scenery 309-375
Chapter X
The Righi.— Guides and Alpenstocks. — Climbing the Alps. — Night on the Mountain Top. — The Yodlyn. — Lucerne. — Wonderful Organ Playing. — A Sail on Lake Lucerne.— Scene of Toll's Archery. — The St. Gothard Pass. — The Devil's Bridge.— The Brunig Pass. — A Valley of Beauty. — Interlaken. — Staubbach Waterfall. — Glaciers and Avalanches. — An Illuminated Waterfall. — Berne. — The Freiburg Organ. — Lake Leman. — The Prison of Chillon. — Geneva. — Swiss Washerwomen. — Glaciers by Moonlight. — Sunrise on Mont Blanc. — Valley of Chamouny. — View from Flegere. — Climbing again. — Crossing the Sea of Ice. — The Mauvais Pass. — Under a Glacier. — The Tete Noir Pass. — Italian Post Drivers. — The Rhone Valley. — Simplon Pass. — Gorge of Gondo. — Fressinone Waterfall. — Domo d'Ossola. — An Italian Inn. — Lake Maggiore. — Milan Cathedral. — A Wonderful Statue. — Death and Dross. — The La Scala Theatre. — Lake Como. — Italian Monks. — Madesimo Waterfall 376-450
Chapter XI
The Spliigen Pass. — The Via Mala. — Tamina Gorge. — Falls of Schaffhauscn. — Munich. — Galleries of Paintings. — Grecian Sculpture restored. — A Bronze Giant. — Hall of the Colossi. — The Palace. — Basilica of St. Boniface. — Salzburg. — Aquarial Wonders. — Visiting Lilliput. — Vienna. — Judging by Appearances. — Royal Regalia. — Cabinet of Minerals. — The Ambras Museum 450-175 CONTENTS.
Chapter XII
Superb Mausoleum The Strauss Band. — Summer Palace. — Imperial Gallery. — Vienna Leather Work. — Shops and Prices. — The Cave of Adelsberg. — Underground Wonders. — Nature's Imitation of Art 476-487
Chapter XIII
Venice. — Gondolas and Gondoliers. — Shylock. — The Rialto. — The Giant's Staircase. — The Lion's Mouth. — Terrible Dungeons. — Square of St. Mark. — The Bronze HorseB. — Church of St. Mark. — Titian's Monument. — Canova's Monument. — Cathedrals and Pictures. — Florence. — Art in the Streets. — The Uffizi Gallery. — Old Masters in Battalions. — Hall of Niobe. — Cabinet of Gems. — Michael Angelo's House. — The Duomo. — The Campanile. — Church of Santa Croce. — Michael Angelo's Statuary. — Florentine Mosaics. — Medicean Chapel. — Pitti Palace. — Halls of the GodB. — The Cascine. — Powers, the Sculptor 487-530
Chapter XIV
Tower of Pisa. — The Duomo. — Galileo's Lamp. — The Baptistery. — Campo Santo. — Over the Apennines. — Genoa. — Streets of Genoa. — Pallavicini Gardens. — Water Jokes. — Turin to Susa. — Mt. Cenis Pass. — Paris again. —Down in the Sewers 631-548
Chapter XV
Sic transit. — English Rudeness. — Wonders of London. — Looking towards Home. — Last Purchases. — English Conservatism. — Reunion of Tourists. — All aboard. — Home again 649-558 OVER THE OCEAN.
Chapter I
Do you remember, dear reader, when you were a youngster, and studied a geography with pictures in it, or a " First " or " Second " Book of History, and wondered, as you looked upon the wood-cuts in them, if you should ever see St. Paul's Cathedral, or Westminster Abbey, or London Bridge, or go> to the Tower of London, and into the very room in which the poor little princes were smothered by the order of their cruet uncle Richard, by the two rude fellows in a sort of undress armor suit, as depicted in the Child's History of England, or should ever see the PaVis you had heard your elders talk so* much of, or those curious old Rhine castles, of which we read so many startling legends of robber knights, and fair ladies,. and tournaments, and gnomes, and enchanters? What a realm of enchantment to us, story-book readers, was beyond the great blue ocean ! and how we resolved, when we grew to be a man, we would travel all over the world, and see everything, and buy ever so many curious things in the countries where they grew or were made.
Even that compound which produced "the finest jet black ever beheld," was to* us in vested with a sort of poetic interest in boyhood's day, for the very stone jug that we held in our hand had come from Lon don, — " 97 High Holborn," — and there was the picture of the palatial-looking factory on the pink label. GOING ABROAD. LONDON ! There was something sonorous in the sound, and something solid in the very appearance of the word when written. When we were a man, didn't we mean to go to London ! Years added to youth dissipated many of these air-built castles, and other barriers besides the watery plain intervene between the goal of one's wishes, and Europe looks further away than ever. " Going to Europe ! Everybody goes to Europe nowadays," says a friend. True, and in these days of steam it is not so much of an event as formerly ; indeed, one would judge so from many of his countrymen that he meets abroad, who make him blush to think how they mis represent Americans.
The Great Expositions at London and Paris drew from our shores every American who could by any manner of means or excuse leave business, and obtain funds sufficient to get over and back, if only for a six weeks' visit. The Exposition brought out to Paris and to Europe, among the swarm of Americans who went over, many such, and some who had scarcely visited beyond the confines of their native cities before crossing the Atlantic. These people, by their utter inexperience as travellers, and by their application of the pre cept inculcated in their minds that money would answer for brains, was a substitute for experience, and the only passport that would be required anywhere and for anything, became a source of mortification to their countrymen, easy game for swindling landlords and sharp shopkeepers, and rendered all the great routes of travel more beset with extortions and annoyances than ever before.
But about " going to Europe." When one decides to start on a pleasure trip to that country for the first time, how many very simple things he wishes to 'know, that correspondents and people who write for the papers have never said anything about. After having once or twice gone over in a steamship, it never seems to occur to these writers that anybody else will want to become acquainted with the httle minutiæ of informa tion respecting life on board ship during the trip, and which WHAT IT COSTS. most people do not like to say they know nothing about ; and novices, therefore, have to clumsily learn by experience, and sometimes at four times the usual cost. Speaking of cost, let me say that this is a matter upon which hardly any two tourists will agree. How much does it cost to go to Europe ?
Of course the cost is varied by the stylo of living and the thoroughness with which one sees sights ; by thoroughness I mean, besides expenditure of time, the use of extra shillings "pour boires," and the skilful dispensation of extra funds, which will gain admission to many a forbidden shrine, insure many an unexpected comfort, and shorten many a weary journey. There is one popular error which one quickly becomes dis abused of, and that is, that everything abroad is dirt cheap, and it costs a mere song to live. Good articles always bring good prices. Many may be cheaper than at home, it is true, but they are by no means thrown away, and good living in Paris cannot be had, as some suppose, for three francs a clay. If one is going abroad for pleasure, and has a taste for travelling, let him first decide what countries ho wishes to visit, the routes and time he will take, and then from ex perienced tourists ascertain about what it would cost ; after having learned this, add twenty per cent, to that amount, and he will be safe.
Safe in the knowledge that you have enough ; safe in being able to make many httle purchases that you will never dream of till you reach Regent Street, the Boulevards, the " Piazza San Marco," the Florence mosaic stores, or the Naples coral shops. Safe in making httle side excursions to noted places that you will find on your route, and safe from the annoying reflection that you might have done so much better, and seen so much more, if you had not limited the expenditure to that very amount which your friend said would take you through. These remarks of course apply only to those who feel that they can afford but a fixed sum for the journey, and who ought always to wait till they can allow a httle margin to the fixed sum, the more completely to enjoy the trip. HINTS FOR NEW TOURISTS. I have seen Americans in French restaurants actually cal culating up the price of a dinner, and figuring out the price of exchange, to see if they should order a franc's worth more or less.
We may judge how much such men's enjoyment is abridged. On the other hand, the class that I refer to, who imagine that money will pass for everything, increase the cost of travel to all, by their paying without abatement the demands of landlords and shopkeepers. The latter class, on the con tinent, are so accustomed, as a matter of course, to being "beaten down" in the price, that it has now come to be a saying among them, that he who pays what is at first de manded must be a fool or an American. In Paris, during the Exposition, green Enghshmen and freshly-arrived Ameri cans were swindled without mercy. The jewelry shops of the Rue de la Paix, the Grand Hotel, the shops of the Palais Royal, and the very Boulevard cafes fleeced men unmercifully. The entrance of an American into a French store was always the occasion of adding from twenty to twenty-five per cent. to the regular price of the goods.
It was a rich harvest to the cringing crew, who, with smirks, shrugs, bows, and par donnez moss in the oiliest tones, swindled and cheated with out mercy, and then, over their half franc's worth of black coffee at the restaurant, or glass of absinthe, compared notes with each other, and boasted, not how much trade they had secured or business they had done, but how much beyond the legitimate price they had got from the foreign purchaser, whom they laughed at. All the guide-books and many tourists exclaim against baggage, and urge the travelling with a single small trunk, or, as they call it in England, portmanteau. This is very well for a bachelor, travelling entirely alone, and who expects to go into no company, and will save much time and expense at railway stations ; but there is some comfort in having ward robe enough and some space for small purchases, even if a httle extra has to be paid.
It is the price of convenience in one respect, although the continual weighing of and charging LIFE ON BOARD SHIP. 5 for baggage is annoying to an American, who is unused to that sort of thing ; and one very curious circumstance is discovered in this weighing, no two scales on the continent give the same weight of the same luggage. Passage tickets from America to Europe it is, of course, always best to secure some time in advance, and a previous visit to the steamer may aid the fresh tourist in getting a state-room near the centre of the ship, near the cabin stairs, and one having a dead-hght, all of which are desirable things. Have some old clothes to wear on the voyage ; remember it is cold at sea even in, summer ; and carry, besides your over coat and warm under-clothing, some shawls and railway rugs, the latter to he round on deck with when you are seasick.
There is no cure for seasickness ; keep on deck, and take as much exercise as possible; hot drinks, and a hot water bottle at the feet are reliefs. People's appetites come to them, after seasickness, for the most unaccountable things, and as soon as the patient ' han kers ' for anything, by all means let him get it, if it is to be had on board ; for it is a sure sign of returning vigor, and in nine cases out of ten, is the very thing that will bring the sufferer relief. I have known a delicate young lady, who had been unable to eat anything but gruel for three days, suddenly have an intense longing for corned beef and cabbage, and, after eating heartily of it, attend her meals regularly the remainder of the voyage. Some make no effort to get well from port to port, and live in their state-rooms on the various httle messes they imagine may relieve them, and which are promptly brought either by the stewardess or bed room steward of the section of state-rooms they occupy.
The tickets on the Cunard line express, or did express, that the amount received includes "stewards' fees;" but any one who wants to be well served on the trip will find that a sovereign to the table steward, and one to the bedroom stew ard, — the first paid the last day before reaching port, and the second by instalments of half to commence with, and half just TUE STEWARDS. before leaving, — will have a marvellously good effect, and that it is, in fact, an expected fee. If it is your first voyage, and you expect to be sick, speak to the state-room steward, who has charge of the room you occupy, or the stewardess, if you have a lady with you; tell him you shall probably need his attention, and he must look out for you; hand him half a sovereign and your card, with the number of your room, and you will have occasion to experience most satisfactorily the value of British gold before the voyage is over.
If a desirable seat at the table is required in the dining-saloon — that is, an outside or end seat, where one can get out and in easily, — or at the table at which the captain sometimes presides, a similar interview with the saloon steward, a day or two before sailing, may accomplish it. Besides these stewards, there are others, who are known as deck stewards, who wait upon seasick passengers, who lie about the decks in various nooks, in pleasant weather, and who have their meals brought to them by these attentive fellows from the cabin table. It is one phase of seasickness that some of the sufferers get well enough to lie languidly about in the fresh, bracing air, and can eat certain viands they may fancy for the nonce, but upon entering the enclosed saloon, are at once, from the confined air or the more percep tible motion of the ship, afflicted with a most iiTepressible and disagreeable nausea.
Well, the ticket for Liverpool is bought, your letter of credit prepared, and you are all ready for your first tri]} across the water. People that you know, who have been often, ask, in a nonchalant style, what " boat " you are going " over " in ; you thought it was a steamer, and the easy style with which they talk of running over for a few weeks, or should have gone this month, if they hadn't been so busy, or they shall probably see you in Vienna, or Rome, or St. Petersburg, causes you to think that this, to you, tremendous undertaking of a first voyage over the Atlantic is to be but an insignificant excursion, after all, and that the entire romance of the affair and the realizing of your imagination is to be dissolved hke "water, water everywhere." 7 one of youth's castles in the air. So it seems as you ride down to the steamer, get on board, pushing amid the crowds of passengers and leave-taking friends ; and not until a last, and perhaps, tearful leave-taking, and when the vessel fairly swings out into the stream, and you respond to the fluttering signal of dear ones on shore, till rapid receding renders face and form indistinguishable, do you realize that you are fairly launched on the great ocean, and friends and home are left behind, as they never have been before.
One's first experience upon the great, awful Ocean is never to be forgotten. My esteem for that great navigator, Christo pher Columbus, has risen one hundred per cent, since I have crossed it, to think of the amount of courage, strength of mind, and faith it must have required to sustain him in his venturesome voyage in the frail and imperfect crafts which those of his day must have been. Two days out, and the great broad sweep of the Atlantic makes its influence felt upon all who are in any degree sus ceptible. To the landsman, the steamship seems to have a regular gigantic see-saw motion, very much like that of the toy ships that used to rise and fall on mimic waves, moved by clock-work, on clocks that used to be displayed in the store windows of jewellers and fancy dealers. Now the bows rise with a grand sweep, — now they sink again as the vessel plunges into an advancing wave, — up and down, up and down, and forging ahead to the never-ceasing, tremulous jar of the machinery.
In the calmest weather there is always one vast swell, and when wind or storm prevails, it is both grand and terrible. The great, vast ocean is something so much beyond any thing I ever imagined, — the same vast expanse of dark-blue rolling waves as far as the eye can reach, — day after clay, day after day, — the great ship a mere speck, an atom in the vast circle of water, — water everywhere. The very wind sounds differently than on land ; a cheerful breeze is hke the breath of a giant, and a playful wave will send a dozen hogs heads of water over the lofty bulwarks. land, ho ! But in a stiff breeze, when a great wave strikes like an iron avalanche against the ship, she seems to pause and shudder, as it were, beneath the blow; then, gathering strength from the unceasing throb of the mighty power within, urges her way bravely on, while far as the eye can reach, as the ship sinks in the watery valleys, you see the great black tossing waves, all crested with spray and foam, like a huge squadron of white-plumed giant cavalry.
The spray sometimes flies high over the smoke-stack, and a dash of saline drops, coming fiercely into the face, feels like a handful of pebbles. A look around on the vast expanse, and the ship which at the pier seemed so huge, so strong, so unyielding, becomes an atom in comparison, — is tossed, like a mere feather, upon old Ocean's bosom ; and one realizes how little is between him and eter nity. There seem to be no places that to my mind bring man so sensibly into the presence of Almighty God as in the midst of the ocean during a storm, or amid the grand and lofty peaks of the Alps,; all other feelings are swallowed up in the mute acknowledgment of God's majesty and man's insignificance. If ever twelve days seem long to a man, it is during his first voyage across the Atlantic ; and the real beauty of green grass is best appreciated by seeing it on the shores of Queens town as the steamer sails into Cork harbor.
Land again ! How well we all are ! A sea voyage, — it is nothing. Every one who is going ashore here is in the bustle of preparation. We agree to meet A and party in London ; we will call on B in Paris, — yes, we shall come across C in Switzerland. How glib we are talking of the old country ! for here if, is, no three thousand miles of ocean to cross now. A clear bright Sunday morning, and we are going ashore in the little tug which we can see fuming down the harbor to meet us. We part with companions with a feeling of re<ret. Seated on the deck of the httle tug, the steamer again looms up huge and gigantic, and we wonder that the ocean could have so tossed her about. But the bell rings, the ropes are cast off, the tug steams away, omlate companions give us three EXAMINING LUGGAGE. 9 parting cheers, and we respond as the distance rapidly widens between us.
Custom-house officials examine your luggage on the tug. American tourists have but very little trouble, and the in vestigation is slight ; cigars and fire-arms not forming a prominent feature in your luggage, but httle, if any, incon venience may be anticipated. This ordeal of the custom-house constitutes one of the most terrible bugbears of the inexperienced traveller. It is the common opinion that an inspection of your baggage means a general and reckless overhauling of the personal j)roperty \n your trunks — a disclosure of the secrets of the toilet, per haps of the meagreness of your wardrobe, and a laying of profane hands on things held especially sacred. Ladies naturally dread this experience, and gentlemen, too, who have been foolish enough to stow away some little articles that custom-house regulations have placed under the ban.
But the examination is really a very trifling affair ; it is conducted courteously and rapiidly, and the traveller laughs to himself about his unfounded apprehensions. The tug is at the wharf; the very earth has a pleasant smell ; let us get on terra firma. Now, then, a landsman finds out, after his first voyage, what " sea legs " on and sea legs off, that he has read of so much in books, mean. He cannot get used to the steadiness of the ground, or rather, get at once rid of the unsteadiness of the ship. I found myself reeling from side to side on the sidewalk, and on entering the Queen's Hotel, holding on to a desk with one hand, to steady myself, while I wrote with the other. The roll ing motion of the ship, to which you have become accustomed, is once more perceptible ; and I knew one friend, who did not have a sick day on board ship, who was taken landsick two hours after stepping on shore, and had as thorough a casting up of accounts for an hour as any of us experienced on the steamer at sea.
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