Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 2

[405] us, nor their names be erased from the tablets of our hearts. Heaven bless them!

You remember what sort of a place you found the ‘forward cabin’ to be. When you left us, Rogers and myself had about come to the conclusion, that we should have to remove ourselves from the uncomfortable quarters we had selected, and take berths in the ‘after cabin.’ However, though we were told that we could not associate with the other passengers, nor sit at the same table with them, if we persisted in retaining our place forward, we nevertheless resolved, as a matter of antislavery self-denial and economy, not to change our position. Rev. Mr. Galusha, and a gentleman belonging to Halifax,¹ joined us; but we all found just occasion to complain of the treatment we received. You would have smiled, and perhaps felt somewhat indignant, to have seen the table that was made for us. It was merely a pine board, just narrow enough to hold a plate, behind which it was difficult to get access, and under which it was equally ludicrous and painful to see so tall a man as our friend Galusha attempt to crawl. The food that was served up to us was generally not fit to be eaten, and very little withal as to quantity. We were scantily supplied with fresh water; so that we could not get enough to wash our faces decently. As to towels, they were few and far between. As a dernier ressort, we took a sheet, and wiped upon that nearly all the way over the Atlantic. We complained to the head-steward of our treatment, and he promised to make it better—saying that we were entitled, substantially, to the same fare as those in the after cabin obtained—but he did not fulfil his promise. Happily, our voyage was a short one (though it seemed to us almost interminable, so anxious were we to see home, and to be delivered from such a pitiable situation)— only twelve days and a half—the shortest ever made by any other vessel. The mammoth steamer President, which sailed three days before us, did not arrive in New York until after the arrival of the Acadia in Boston!

There were few incidents that occurred on our passage that would be of any interest to you. A sea-voyage is usually very monotonous; and, situated as dear Rogers and myself were, ours was uncommonly so. We saw quantum suff. of ‘Mother Carey's chickens,’ spouting whales, tumbling porpoises, and winged flying-fishes. Now and then we saw (and it is always a pleasant sight at sea) a sail in the distance, but did not speak any, except in a single instance. We were surrounded by a