Anne West Page
Nearly two years ago, I was in the office of Horn's True Value (the hardware store where I work), tackling some small tasks while the bosses were out of town. I noticed a pile of typewritten pages on Karen’s desk. The document had the intriguing title:
Journal
Written by Anne West Page On Arrival In America. 1831
Anyone who
knows me, can vouch for my affinity for historical journals. I was also
intrigued because my mother’s maiden name was West. As far as I know, there isn't a family
connection. It’s a common surname.
As soon as Karen
returned, I asked her about this journal. She explained that it was written by
an ancestor who came to America from England and assured me that it contained a
harrowing tale of survival. She let me take it to read and allowed me to make a
copy. Later, she gave permission to use it as an article for my website. I didn’t do
that until now. My website wasn’t working properly at the time, and I didn’t
want to post new blogs or news until it was functioning again.
After reading
the journal, and talking to her, it was determined that Anne West Page was the
sister-in-law of her direct ancestor, Christopher Page. Her ancestor accompanied
Anne and his brother, Thomas (Anne’s husband), as well as their children, on
the same journey to America.
Last month,
Karen passed away suddenly. Her death shocked the community. We are still
dealing with the loss. To say that it was life altering is an understatement. She
always supported me and my ventures. When my books were published, she
immediately agreed to carry them at the store. This journal story is not about
her, but it’s a small tribute to a woman who touched many lives. She came from
hardy (and hearty) stock.
A
handwritten note across the top of the journal said that “this copy of the
journal was given to Tiffany from Grandpa C. Earl Cole and Grandma Phyllis Page
Cole.”
…
Anne West
Page writes:
Georgetown
January,
1832
My Very Dear
Friends in England:
As our
voyage to America was so protracted and attended with many difficulties, and
having written a little of what occurred from day to day, we flatter ourselves
that it will not prove uninteresting to you, though there are many trifles
respecting the children & etc., hardly worth recordings; but as some of you
will wish to know what they said and did, I shall give it just as I then wrote
it, believing you will readily excuse all that is objectionable and invoke
patience to your aid in reading so long an account.
We trust
that you will be enabled to adore that kind Providence Who brought us safely
through all and has enabled us to be thankful.
October 11.
1831
When Thomas,
Brother Christopher, myself, and the four children sailed from Liverpool in the
ship Marion, bound to New York, with Capt. Phillips. Mr. Manchester chief mate,
Mr. Mansfield second mate. Cabin passengers Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard and son, Mr.
and Mrs. Goodwin and little boy, with one hundred and forty in steerage. We had
a small room to ourselves, it was a fine morning. We did not expect to go out,
the wind being contrary, but were towed out by a steamboat coming alongside the
vessel, - a part of it was dashed to pieces, obliged to return. Another came up
soon, and we kept on slowly. I sat on the deck, by the cabin. Began to write a
letter to Father and Mother to send by pilot. Was sick, could not finish, soon
recovered. At two o’clock in morning, heard a rushing about. Thomas went on
deck. It was a gale. All was right.
12th
Beautiful
morn. Very sick, soon recovered. Thomas cooked herring for dinner, which we all
enjoyed. He and children laid on deck, and silent in afternoon. Isle of Man in
view all day.
13th
Strong gale
from west. Very rough sea. Went on deck, the only female that ventured. Thomas
and Christopher had a ducking. Children in their berth all day. Much alarmed at
night.
14th
Very rough
sea, wind the same. Went on deck with all the children- much ado to keep on
feet. They were greatly delighted to see the billows roll so high. Amelia said,
“Oh, the ship will turn over.” Ann Elizabeth and Marianne laughed. Amelia and
Emma cried. Put them to bed. Five ships in view, and plenty of sea-crows. Saw
the coast of Ireland.
15th
Wind no so
high. Rather was favorable. Plum pudding for dinner. Stayed on deck talking
with Capt. till tea. Saw two lights. One revolving, disappearing every two
minutes.
16th
Sunday. Fine
morn. All on deck. Foul wind. Emma better.
17th
Fine morn.
Very calm, wind fair. Seven knots nearly all day. The brig Elizabeth from
Quebec passed. We spoke her. Seventeen days coming. Boiled a piece of beef, and
apple dumplings. The first meat since we left Liverpool.
18th
No wind. Sea
like a river. Saw some fish-like crabs.
19th
Very rough
sea. Wind and tide against us. Went on deck. Not very well. Coming down
hatchway fell from top to bottom. Did not hurt myself much. Laid down. Thomas
pared some apples. Heard him ask Ann Elizabeth, “How her mama made the crust,”
thought ‘twas time to be moving. I made them, he cooked them. Christopher was
laid. Went on deck with the children. Very cold. Saw a beautiful rainbow,
rocked about very much. In eve a rope broke and let all the luggage loose. On
one side, baggage rolling all over the steerage. Tins rattling. Baskets
cracking. Men singing, smoking, talking, laughing & etc.
20th
Fine morn.
Wind very high. Quite ahead. Rocked about very much all night. Our bones sore.
Emma fell out of her berth this morn. Papa was stooped and she came on his
back. Rainy afternoon. Ann Elizabeth asked, “If we had not received a letter
from either of our grandmamas, aunts or anybody.” She said she thought we might
have had a note or something by this time. For three days past Marianne’s
complexion has been quite yellow. Looks better now. Mr. Manchester said, she
had the jaundice. Emma begins to be quite merry. Christopher not very well. I
dreamed my Cousin Norton was dead, and that she talked to me after, also of
Mrs. A. Srerston’s vault being opened. Saw a great many coffins.
21st
Tremendous
rough sea. Rocked all night. Ann Elizabeth says she feels so tired all over,
she “wishes she had stayed with one of her grandmamas. “ Amelia says she did
not expect to go to America, so “up and down, up and down.” She does not like
it. The children in their berths all day. No cooking, coffee or tea.
22nd
Very rough
sea. Strong gale from west. Thomas fell down with a kettle, hurt his side. Was
sick. Made a biscuit pudding for dinner tomorrow. Rocked so much could not wash
the children. Much do to keep on a seat. Frequently down on the bottom. Rather
more still in the evening. Cleared and swept the room. Now in bed in hopes of
fair wind tomorrow. My birthday, and our own wedding day.
23rd
Sunday –
wind the same. Rough sea. Went on deck. Capt. Carried the children, and
assisted me to the farther end of the quarter deck. We all sat on the bottom.
We could keep no other seat. All enjoyed our biscuit pudding. Amelia said, “It
was the best dinner she had.” The sea came on deck, so obliged to keep down in
afternoon. Thomas still suffers from his fall. Went to cabin. Capt. Hearing
“’Twas our wedding day,” drank to our health. The two Mr. Rogers came in at
evening, and sat with us. Thomas read “Toplady’s Hymns.” Cracked a bottle of
sherry.
24th
and 25th
Very rough
sea. Gale continues. By some means last week we lost a day. We must have lost
one of the rough days last week. All thought this Monday, but it proves to be
Tuesday. The Capt. does not expect a fair wind until a new moon. Poor
encouragement. The children ask every day, if the wind is fair, and talk of
what they shall have “when they get to America.” The Capt. and mate take much
notice of the children. Mr. Mansfield said to them this morn, “Well, my little
dears, you are such picture! You shall have such nice pears and peaches when
you get to America.” We agreed with a man “Bob” to cook for us, empty slops and
etc. for four dollars more, until we land. It is such messing at the fires, and
much danger of scalding ourselves.
26th
Tremendous
stormy night. Hail and rain. Much danger last night. Eleven o’clock this morn,
wind head again. Christopher called me on deck to see a ship. It was from New
Orleans, thirty-five days, going full sail to Liverpool. This is our 16th
day, and we are not more than six hundred miles from Liverpool.
27th
Day clear
and beautiful. Wind the same. Very cold. On the deck nearly all the day, with
the children. Saw some very large fish-like pigs. The Capt. calls Marianne the
“Old Maid.” Says, “She is an old fashioned one.” Biscuit pudding. Boiled the
first piece of ham. Finished our cream. Wind fair this eve. Ship goes very
easy.
28th
Head wind.
Clear day. Very calm. Children on deck all day talking with the Capt. till tea.
He expects fair wind tomorrow.
29th
A bad cold.
(Whoever heard of a good one?) Clear day. Sea as smooth as a river. Washed the
children on deck. Marianne says, “Mama, why does the sea look so neat?” Saw an
immense number of the same fish. Cold not better.
30th
Sunday –
fine day, head wind. Thomas very unwell. Self and children all bad colds.
31st
Wet morn.
Head wind. Thomas very unwell. Ann Elizabeth very sadly with a cold.
November 1st
Bright clear
morn. Head wind. Very rough sea. Thomas a little better. Light pudding with
currants. Very nice.
2nd
Wind the
same. Very stormy night. Thomas much better.
3rd
Thick misty
morn. Wind little in favor making three knots an hour. This eve twenty young
men sat along by our door playing, “Madam St. Quinton.” Christopher sat it up.
Caused general laughter. Thomas on deck. Children asleep. Same pudding. Have
our biscuits toasted. We all like them.
4th
New moon.
Brisk head wind. Children all on deck. Made an Irish pillow case. Marianne and
Amelia told Mr. Manchester, “they would sleep with him when they went to bed,”
they cried because they could not.
5th
Foggy morn.
Head wind. Heavy sea. Plum pudding and ham.
6th
Sunday- very
stormy night. We could not sleep. Head wind at noon. Fair wind. Five knots,
Capt. playing with the children all afternoon.
7th
Fine morn.
Favorable wind. Four knots. Busy all day putting things in order. Short plum
dumplings. Gruel made of prepared grits with eggs. Very nice.
8th
Fine morn.
Favorable wind. Spoke a ship from Africa, bound for Liverpool. Saw another at a
distance. Made a pillow case.
9th
Friday-
favorable wind. Eight knots. Mate told us, “We are eighteen hundred miles from
New York.”
10th
Now off
deck. Nine o’clock. Beautiful moonlight eve. Delightful breeze all day. Capt.
tells us we have made in forty-hours, five hundred and twenty miles. Hope to
see land one day this week. Mr. Blanchard says, “I am made of no common stuff,
but of everlasting.” I so often go on deck where no other female dare. Very
seldom any of an evening, but myself. Not one in the ship has ben so well.
Amelia calls Mr. Manchester her “sweetheart.” Mr. B. has taught her two little
piece, which she repeats very nicely. No fire today. Some gruel at the cooks.
11th
In the Gulf.
So hot could not sleep. The children took their night gowns off. Very heavy
sea. Billows constantly rolling on deck. Strong gale all day. Christopher a
complete ducking. Self and children a little.
12th
Fine morn.
Spoke a ship. Thomas calculated the distance to New York. Told the Capt., who
replied, that he came “very near.” Very warm plum pudding.
13th
Fair wind.
Dined on deck. Plum pudding. Finished our raisins. Strong gale in afternoon.
14th
On the bank
of Newfoundland. Much cooler. Heavy fog. Went in cabin. Capt. told us we were
nine hundred and sixty miles off New York.
15th
Off the bank
into the “Gulf Stream.” Very warm. Breakfast and dinner on deck. Two violent
storms in the afternoon. Thunder loud. Lightning vivid. Sold some flour,
herrings and potatoes. Made a pillow case. Remained on deck until ten o’clock.
16th
Fine day,
with the exception of a few squalls. All or meals on deck.
17th
Fine day.
Head wind. Out of gulph. Much cooler. The water quite warm in the gulph.
18th
Fine day.
Head wind. Dined on the deck. Cold rainy night.
19th
Calm, cold,
foggy day. No progress till eight in the evening. Then favorable wind. With
three days sail. Sold some potatoes, and flour. Emma walks about the deck now.
20th
Sunday-
rough night. Head wind. Storms all day. Saw two ships at a distance. Very cold.
21st
Rough night.
Head wind. Blowing hard. Very heavy sea. Capt. told us he “knocked at five
o’clock this morn, expecting he should have gotten Thomas up, that he might
have a ducking.” Saw a ship very near us. Capt. said “If we were as near New
York, as we seemed, we could not get in, with the wind.”
22nd
Fine morn.
Nice breeze. Fair from eleven till four. Emma and myself had a ducking. The
wind began blowing very hard. Came off deck, A tremendous gale. Violent storm.
Thunder and lightning abated at eight. Left a headwind. The most apparently
stout-hearted searing man in the ship, was very much alarmed. The luggage
knocked about, all over the steerage, our own kept up very well. Much as we
could do to undress the children, this truly may be termed “a storm at sea.”
The Capt. has been to sea twenty-five years, and never experienced such a
voyage with contrary winds, gales, and storms. He and second mate says “They
will go to sea no more.” Mr. Manchester says, “No more this winter.”
23rd
Stormy
night. Sails torn in pieces, down side of vessel, which was put on with strong
iron batts. Were in much danger. Head wind blowing very hard all day. Very
cold. To bed at seven o’clock.
24th
Almost a
sleepless night. Very boisterous. 7 A.M.- very heavy sea, dashing on deck.
Thought the vessel had split somewhere. Felt much alarm! Thomas went on deck to
see. It was four o’clock. All was right when we arose this morning. We heard
the wind was fair. Could make very little sail, the ice being so very heavy
against the wind. Very cold during the hurricane. Marianne and I went on deck a
few moments. I slipped down, so rough I could not stay. Passengers’ provisions
begin to be very short. We dare not share them any more, as many of our own
things are nearly done.
25th
Head wind.
Heavy sea. Squalls all day. Very cold. Finished our own biscuit. Had twelve of
the Capt. Had not more than a half pound sugar. Boiled a rice pudding. Enough
once more. The children very anxious to land. Always inquiring whether we are
going right. When they hear the wind is fair, they say: “They wonder how many
knots we go?”
26th
Very rough.
Squalls all night. Knocking about. Fair wind all day. Saw a ship going full
sail past us. Prisoner fare for breakfast- bread and water. Almost all begin to
be very short. Capt., cabin passengers, and crew put on all allowances this
day. He intends to hail the first vessel, for provisions. Saw a small English
brig. He said “That was of no use to us.”
27th
Very calm
and rain. Our spirits all raised this morn, as the wind was fair from eleven
till three o’clock – then head wind blowing very hard. Our prospects too bright
to last long. Went in the cabin. Capt, .gave us a little sugar and a bit of
cheese.
28th
An alarming
night. Most tremendous gale from the west. Feared the children would roll out
of bed. Thomas put two of them with me, and went to the others. Mrs. Blanchard
fell out of her berth, and Mr. Manchester fell on the table and broke it to
pieces, and hurt himself so much he is not able to be on deck. All laid but
myself. Have been paring some potatoes in hopes of fires by and by, to cook
them. We dare not eat ourselves, nor give the dear children what they want, for
fear we should be much longer, and have none. For the winds and the waves are
continually against us. When it is calm, the wind, what little there is, is
fair as soon as it changes overhead, it blows hard. But thank God we are able
to bear up with tolerable spirits at present. But we live in hopes of better
days. No dinner, no fire, a little gruel at cooks. It is pitiful to hear the
dear children asking for dinner, and we can give them none. What we have,
cannot be cooked. At there o’clock this afternoon a most alarming wave rushed
on deck. The water came in Christopher’s berth. Knocked the Capt. down, and
drove him such a distance that we though he was gone overboard. Bruised his
leg. He dares not spare the time to have it bathed. The chief mate being unable
to come on deck. One man was driven with such violence, that forced him in the
long boat. He clung to a rope, to save himself from a watery grave. The gale
continued, fit to rip everything to atoms. But thank God, all safe at present.
All the crew are becoming much worn out, continually pulling and hauling ropes
night and day. Not enough to eat, and nothing to drink.
29th
We went to
bed at six. The wind abated at nine. Had a tolerable night. Morning calm.
Children quite merry, talking of what they “shall have when they get to New
York,” Amelia says, “If she does not have some roast goose, and apples, she
shall come back again.” Every day when we cook at all, we cut about one quarter
of a pound of ham, in small bits, and boil with potatoes. We made this morn,
enough for two days for fear we may not be able to cook tomorrow, but Bob
robbed us of hal. We had very little for breakfast. Only two meals a day.
30th
Restless
nights and wearisome days are appointed unto us. Truly our trials abound, yet
mingled with many and great mercies. A most alarming night of wind and weather,
such as the Capt. said, he had never experienced. We have laid to, and are
driven back hundreds of miles these last two days. Capt. is very kind. This
morn sent us some biscuit, a little sugar, and a piece of cheese. The dear
children were much delighted! About forty Scotchmen who were by themselves, had
finished their provisions some time past, are allowed one pound bread each, for
three days. No fire. No dinner today. Storms and gales. Our spirits sink, and
we are weary.
December 1st
No better
prospect. Gales continue blowing very hard all day. We have a little preserves
left, which I spread on a crust, rolled up and boiled, and this the children
call a “nice pudding.” This we eat cold for breakfast, and some times a little
biscuit. We meet with no ship to relieve us, if we did, the sea is too heavy to
send a boat out. If the wind does not change after the new moon, on Saturday,
the Capt. things of putting out to the Island of Bermudas, or St.Thomas, in the
West Indies, for provisions; but he is in great hopes of a change, which keeps
our spirits up. We went down to see the cabin passengers this afternoon. They
are in low spirits. Capt. gave Thomas a little bit of beef heart, of his
allowances. We told him it “would stay our stomachs.” We each ate a little bit
and saved the rest to put in our dinner tomorrow.
2nd
Fine morn.
Head wind. The children are on deck. Mrs. B. gave them each a bit of biscuit,
and told them “when they got to New York, they should go in a store and buy a
cake.” Emma says, “Oh Mama,” and looked so delighted. She gave me three and a
half biscuits, which she had saved at her meals. When the children were in bed,
being no fire, we sat with them till nine.
3rd
Calm morn.
Our countenances brightened this morn. Wind fair. When the children heard it,
they clapped their hands, and said, “Oh, a fair wind, a fair wind!” Amelia
says, “I hope we shall dit there soon.” “I shall ask the Capt. how long.” Our
fair wind lasted not long. At three in the afternoon it changed ahead. A
complete hurricane. If we meet with no relief in a few days, there will be no
provisions on board. Two pints of water per day. All we have for everything.
But one mug of coffee each this morning. The man who cooks for us, has but one
herring and a little oatmeal. Mr. B. made the children a taper on a stick,
which greatly pleased them.
4th
Sunday- head
wind, but not high. Very wet. Before we were dressed, we heard “There was a
ship near.” We were soon on deck. Our Capt. boarded her. The flag of distress
had not been hoisted more than half a minute, before the other tacked and came
to us. After our Capt. had given the usual salutation, he said we were “quite
destitute of provisions, can you supply us?” Without the least hesitation the
other said “Yes.” This little word gladdened every heart, and we could not help
shedding tears of joy, and gratitude. The sea appeared to calm on purpose for
us. The chief mate and two sailors went in a boat and brought a barrel of beef,
and a round of beef. A large piece of pork. A barrel of flour, and a barrel of
biscuit. Some onions and etc. though but little among so many, yet we have
abundant cause to be thankful. She was from Boston, bound for the West Indies.
Had been only three days coming seven hundred miles. Gave an account of a
schooner which was dreadfully shattered. The day cleared up beautifully. Boiled
some potatoes, and our last little rice. Kept on deck till the children’s
bed-time. The wind fair for three hours. At eight it changed, and blew very
hard ahead. Thomas and I went to bed in low spirits.
5th
An alarming
night. Could not sleep. A gale from the west. Rain hard and very heavy sea.
Laying to, and driven back. The sea rolls over the deck in torrents, into the
cabin, through there into our room, and some oil, which was turned over, Thomas
is continually wiping up. Put the children in their berths, to keep them out of
the wet. Playing very happily and singing their pieces. Cold pudding. No tea,
nor coffee. The children always asking for more, but we dare not give it to
them. We are almost ready to despair. We have so often hoped this would be the
last strong gale, the last violent storm- the last time the wind would be
contrary, but our hopes have always proved futile. But we are in His hands Who
“rules the howling winds, and calms the raging seas,” and we will still hope we
may have a fair wind, that we may quickly land, where His mercies abound. We
feel thankful that we are all well. Although we begin to feel a little the
worse for our scanty meals. Nine weeks tomorrow since we came on board-eight
since we sailed. We trust we shall be spared through this gale. Gave a poor man
six potatoes, and little coffee. I wrote no more yesterday, as I met with a
most providential escape. Children were in their berth. Thomas and I sat
opposite Christopher’s berth, when a very heavy sea burst on deck, with an
alarming noise; and the vessel gave a sudden lurch when a large partition board
and Christopher’s trunk came with a violent force from off his berth and darted
against my head. Thomas’ arm was hurt a little by trying to guard me. I was
very much stunned -though not senseless. I thought the vessel had one to
pieces, and a part had struck against my head. I looked up expecting to see a
hole. I went to bed, and had some vinegar on. It is not half as bad as I might
expect. The whole day was most alarming. The Capt. thought of himself and all
going down below, and leaving the ship to herself. It was so dangerous for
anyone to be on deck. He had one compass taken away. The other was much
injured, and the stand driven away.
6th
This morn
the sea very heavy. Wind not quite so high. No fire, nor dinner yesterday.
Capt. gave us a piece of beef, some biscuit, and flour onions. A pint of water.
Now we hope this will be the last time we shall need take anything of him. Emma
keeps asking for “a piece.” Christopher is in low spirits. Mr. Blanchard
brought us a bit of wax candle, and each child a bit of ham, which Mr. B. had
saved. Asked for a little salt, as theirs was dirty. The passengers are very
envious lest one should have more than another. The Capt. Is very kind to us,
but if we had ever so much, we feel it incumbent to be frugal.
7th
Fine morn.
Head wind. We are in a miserable state. Food will soon be all gone again. Those
who have none, will soon take from those who have. Water very short. Last night
some ham was stolen. Something must soon be done. The Capt. and all on board
look miserable. Gruel for breakfast. Cut a little bit of beef for our own
dinner, which makes it much better. Mr. B. gave each of the children a bit of
cold pudding. When they go on deck they look for something from her bag. Told
her to say, “there was the pattern she promised me.” The Capt. told us this
eve, he “should put in at the first port, that there is a favorable wind for.”
Although in low spirits this gives up some hope.
8th
Christopher
went on deck in the night, and told us on coming down, “that we had a fair
wind.” Which we rejoiced at. It lasted but a few hours. We awoke at five
o’clock. Vessel was rocking very much. We feared the wind had changed. Thomas
went on deck to see and found it had. The yard-arm of the fore-sail broke in
two. The Capt. mates and sailors all consulted together. We soon found they had
concluded on going to the Bermudas, or failing this, to St. Thomas Island in
the West Indies. About eight o’clock, we tacked and are now going on with a
fair wind. Can make but little sail, they are so torn with the recent
hurricane. The sailors have been mending them day and night. The fore-yard
breaking, appears to be the occasion of hastening the Capts. Decision, which we
are much rejoiced at. Some are sorry, those who have not felt want. Mr. and
Mrs. Blanchard are quite in low spirits. He is engaged in a theater in New
York, and the season is getting away. Every week is an object to them. The poor
Scotchmen are very glad. Though we have not been without food, yet we dare not
eat, and the dread of our dear children crying for bread, when we had no
prospect of procuring any for them, was very distressing. All must soon have
starved. The dread of this was to us more than death. The Capt. has paid every
attention possible. Always on deck, and many days takes no more than a cup of
coffee, drinking it on deck. Gave seven potatoes to a Scotchman, who has a wife
and two children, and no provisions. Good breeze all day. About twelve days
sail to St.Thomas. Calm eve. Very warm. Slept well.
9th
A ship near
this morn. Soon as our flag was up it came. The Eleanor from Boston. Our Capt.
asked whether they could afford us any relief, as we had nearly one hundred and
sixty passengers, who had been living on his provisions the last ten days, and
he was now getting quite out. The other hesitated, then said, “Yes, but it
serves some of you right. You have no business to have so many aboard, and such
a short supply of provisions.” But the two captains soon found they knew each
other, he was very kind and supplied us with beef, biscuit, potatoes, oil,
sugar, fat ducks, a pig, water, etc. He apologized for what he had said, and
after filling two boats, asked if he could do anything more for us. Our Capt.
returned his and all the passenger’s thanks. Though ‘twas a perfect calm, while
the ship was supplying, before it left, the wind began to blow fair for New
York. We tacked and have been proceeding all day, with a delightful breeze.
When the fresh beef was put up, it was discovered that the only remaining barrel
of beef, had been stolen. The Capt. suspected the Irish. A general search was
made, but none found the sailors being exasperated at their only remaining
morsel being taken from them, would not let it rest, but searched again found
it under their berth. No doubt they intended to throw it overboard. The Capt.
very angry, for had not a kind providence sent us provisions this morning it
might have been of serious consequence. When the children were in bed, we went
to the cabin to tea, fried beef, and onions. Had just taken our scanty meal,
when the cabin passengers went to bed. The Capt. sat and talked with us on
deck, till twelve o’clock. Before we put out to the Indies, Thomas proposed to
the passengers to send an address to the Capt. to put in at some port. He told
him of this and he replied that he ”should like to have it done now, that he
might have it to show his ship-owners. So hot we could not sleep. Ann Elizabeth
did not sleep all night.
10th
Good breeze.
Foggy morn. Beef and biscuit given to all. We need our flour, to make two beef
dumplings. Salt enough, and lard enough, nothing to put in the crust, but we
all enjoyed them very much. Thomas gave the Capt. the address. He was much
pleased with it. Passed through the Gulph. Have been in it twice before, but
were driven back. Thomas hung up tins, and caught rain-water off the sails,
which is very acceptable, going eight knots. When the foreward is finished and
up, we shall go faster. Two hundred and ten miles from (note… nothing further
on this day)
11th
Sunday- fair
wind. Much colder. Hope to see land tomorrow. The salt beef made us so thirsty
yesterday, have no water for coffee this morn. Obliged to put the tar-rainwater
in our dinner. Put up the sail. The children much pleased to learn they shall
soon see land. They say, “Now we shall have goose, and bread and butter.” Emma
begins to say almost everything. We asked her how she liked her dinner. She
answered “very well.” She gets the corner of her quilt, which lays over her
berth, and sucks her thumb. Yesterday we let them eat as much as they wished.
Ann Elizabeth said, “Well, I have had a good breakfast, now I feel nice and
full.” One day they said, they thought if their grandmamas knew they had no
more, they would give them out of their pantries. Capt. gave them some water,
when they went on deck. Man lost piece of beef last night. Drank tea in cabin.
Pork chops. Wet and very cold.
12th
Bright clear
morn. Wind changed ahead at four o’clock. Should have been in this morn, if
wind had remained fair. Some linen washed, they froze quite stiff. Caught some
rain-water. Children quite pleased because they had three meals in cabin. To
bed early, being so very cold. Saw a pilot boat.
13th
Clear bright
morn. Never saw the sea so smooth. Children on deck. Capt. racing them about.
Too cold to stay. Boiled a bit of beef. Had some biscuit, and a little sugar of
the Capt. Thank God we have as much now as we need, except water. Gave a poor
woman twenty potatoes, and a little beef stew. Wrote a little more of my letter
to England, but so cold could not go on. A Scotchman gave me a little ink. At
twelve, the wind blew a little, but soon died away. Tea in cabin. The address
was read, and signed. Thomas gave it to Mr. Blanchard. Ann Elizabeth said “I
did hope and think I should have set my foot on land today.” We seem to get, as
it were, to the very door of New York, but cannot get in.
(At this
point there seems to be a lapse of 5 days since the next entry is dated “18th”.)
Noted by typist - psu
18th
Gale
continued all night, with hail and snow. The deck is miserable. All covered
with ice and snow, and ropes frozen. We are driven back now, and no land to be
seen. The cook boiled us a bit of meat, and a few potatoes. Children in their
berths all day. People hungry and dissatisfied. Provisions getting short. Our
only consolation is: we are in the hand of Him Who “knows all our wants,” and
can “supply all our needs,” and “will deliver in time of trouble.” A packet
passed for Liverpool not near enough to send a letter. I regret it much. Tea in
cabin. Mrs. B. gave me a piece of beef and biscuit. I gave it to Christopher.
The Capt. Expects a fair wind.
19th
Went to bed
in good spirits; when we awoke, the vessel was going canny, and we vainly hoped
the wind was fair, but when morning came, found it had been ahead all night. A
little tea without sugar, and very little biscuit, which we divided and served
for our breakfast. About eleven, we heard the wind was fair. The children
expressed their joy, by clapping their hands, and exclaiming “Oh, a fair wind,
a fair wind!” and “I am glad.” Amelia says, “Thank God, for a fair wind, we
shall get there now.” “The Capt. will soon run in now, won’t he mama?” Emma
says, “Doose and pie.” This was a false hope. The wind kept ahead all day.
Thank God, He enables us to trust, and fly to him for refuge. Many of the
people swearing (quite dreadful to hear) about the wind.
20th
Dismal
prospect all morning. Only two oz. biscuit allowed. Mr. Goodwin gave us a mug
of coffee for a spoonful of grits for his little boy, who has the whooping
cough. We liked it much, though no sugar. Men talking about cutting off their
fingers and eating them, which makes our blood chill. About eleven, a most
merciful deliverance was sent us, for which we are ever grateful. A boat was
seen approaching, written on it, “The Underwriters Relief Boat,” which made
every heart leap for joy. She soon came and plentifully supplied us with
provisions. Fresh and pickled beef, pork, sheep, biscuit, cabbage, candles and
etc. This fresh display of God’s goodness in the time of utmost need, caused
our tears to flow with gratitude, and praise to Him Who heard our prayers. When
the bread was given out this morning, there was only one pound left for each
person throughout the ship. Before the boat left, we had a fair wind. The
packet which came out with us, has been in a month – The Meridian. The boat had
been out a week looking for us. It relieved the Meridian, which was afterwards
wrecked. It was with difficulty the crew and passengers were saved. A packet
lost. After the “pitch” was taken on board, bad news from England. Of fires at
Bristoll etc. Tea in cabin. Beef steak and onions. About seven, the signal lanthorn
was put out. “Pitch” was soon on board, and the newsman obtained what
information he wanted and returned. Remained in cabin till eleven, then to bed
with joyful hearts.
21st
This morn,
at seven, we started. Reached the dock, about ten, going in. The scenery was
most beautiful. Appeared to go between two rocks. The snow looks very grand,
clinging on the clefts and homes. Christopher was on deck nearly all the time,
but we were so busy packing, we only remained a few minutes. I thought it the
most grand and joyful night I had ever seen. Washed and dressed the children,
as soon as possible. Should have been glad of Bett’s help. Put them in the
cabin, but they soon began to cry with cold. Christopher took them to the first
house, a store with a nice stove in it. I went to them in about two hours. They
were sitting round the stove, very comfortable. Had some cake given them.
Several gentlemen, asking them questions. I went to them several times. They
were very happy. About two or three o’clock, we took what things we wanted and
went on shore to them. They were eating apple and oranges, and each had a cent
given them. They said, “They were the finest little family they ever saw.” We
took a little shrub, and thanked them for their kindness and proceeded to Capt.
Winnie’s boarding house, recommended by Mr. Manchester. He was full, but sent
his man across the way, with Thomas, to Mr. Hopps, where we are now by the
fire. He took much notice of the children. We pay four dollars per week, and
one, for the children. Had some cold beef, for we had taken no dinner. Had tea
at six, beef steak, hot cakes, toast etc.
22nd
All slept
well. The children in our room. Christopher a story higher. For breakfast –
coffee, sausage, toast etc. Walked to the vessel, then to the ship agents, made
inquiries about going to Georgetown. Advised us to go by packet to Norfolk,
from thence to Annapolis, by stage to Georgetown. Leg of mutton, goose, etc.
for dinner. Very sharp frost. Wrote to sister Martha.
23rd
Set by fire
at ship agents. Time Thomas and Christopher got some of the luggage out of the
vessel, and put aboard packet for Georgetown. Our Capt. called in to see me.
Called on Mrs. Blanchard at an extension board. Thomas in Broadway. Pay eight
dollars per week. Had glass of good porter. They are dissatisfied with New
York. She says “’tis so vulgar to rush and run away from table, with the last
mouthful scarcely down.” Wrote a letter to Felthorpe and Attlebridge. Thomas
one to brother John. Mr. Goodwin called.
24th
Thomas and
Christopher went out to unpack. It rained and thawed. Turkey and boiled beef.
No onions, nor bread sauce. Fine bright afternoon. Wet walking. Mr. Manchester
called to see the children. Amelia and Emma were in bed, he went to see them.
25th
Christmas
Day went to the Gothic Episcopal Church. The minister very popular, only moral.
The church had a most beautiful appearance. Long slender windows, a tall
slender tree sat in each, filled with bushy green cedar, similar to the
lignumvitae shrub. Wreaths made in the same way, tastefully arranged in
different shapes in various parts of the church. No Christmas berry like those
in England. For dinner, roast beef, and chicken pie, called pot-pie, all mashed
up together. I thought the dish had been broke, and that they had to put in in
another cake-custard, no plum pudding. Afternoon to Baptist Church. Good
sermon. Modern built green venetian blinds. Scarlet and green cushions.
Carpeted all over. Handsome organ. Two stoves, rather too warm. Bright clear
mild day. Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin called. Their little boy very ill.
26th
Bright,
clear day. Went to the Georgetown packing room. Packed some boxes. Called at
our Capt. lodging. Saw his wife and little girl. Walked through Broadway. Very
extensive and pretty stores. Saw an immense boat. This day is a holiday.
27th
Bright,
clear day. To the park, Capt. called and Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard. Saw a store
with goods outside the door, ticketed. The young men have had a good laugh
about it, said: “They knew it was an Englishman.” Mrs. Hoff is a widow, with
four children, eldest fifteen. Four young men aboard, very agreeable.
28th
Snowing all
day. Christopher set off, with intention of going to Athens, but could not get
over the river. No business going on at the vessel.
29th
Thomas about
all day after the luggage. Had to pay duty on the crate of earthenware, and
cask of cutlery. Removed the boxes, chest, etc. to Georgetown post.
30th
Packing and
unpacking all day. Very cold.
31st
Got all from
custom-house.
1832- Jan. 1st
To the
Baptist church. Got all ready for starting Monday. Two sleighs took in our
baggage at half past five, to the steamboat office. Starting in a beautiful
steamboat. At seven – breakfast on board. A great many passengers. Reached
Ambray half past ten. Stage to Kingston. Sleigh to Trenton. Stage to
Philadelphia. Arrived about ten. Took tea at inn where coach stopped. Put the
children to bed with their clothes on, as we had to start at four next morning.
2nd
Up at half
past twelve. Started in a vehicle which they call a sleigh, like a long snow
case. We were knocked and jolted fifty miles. Gave the children some hot bread
and milk. Then got in a stage. Ten passengers more outside. Obliged to get out
to get coach and sleigh over river. Went to good fires, then another coach a
few miles, then a sleigh. A few more gentlemen obliged to turn out, and push
behind, to get the horses over the bridge. The coachman found they could not
get on. He said, “Gentlemen, we must have wheels again. This will be the last
time of changing.” It was getting dark, a barren place. We went in an ordinary
tavern. A good fire. Four or five women quite enraptured with the children.
“Never saw such dears- so much alike, such rosy cheeks, so near a size.” They
asked numberless questions, started again in a coach. Arrived in Baltimore at
eleven. They could not take us in, where the coach stopped, as the box-man
said, “the housekeeper and son were gone to bed.” We sat down by a hot stove, in
the coach office. The gentleman gave the children and me a glass of lemonade.
Thomas went out to look for night lodgings. He was gone a long time, as most of
the boarding houses and taverns were shut. The road being so bad made the coach
late. At last Thomas returned. Found a Mr. Baker, in south St. We took our
night clothes and childrens’ and off we set. Thomas carried Emma, and I trudged
on with the rest. It was very cold and slippery. We passed the house, could not
find it. Poor children cried with cold. They saw a light. They said, “Perhaps
they will let us stay here.” The watchman heard us trying to comfort them and
directed us to Mr. Baker’s. It was passed twelve. Found him, and two black
servants waiting for us. They paid us every attention. Had some cold roast
beef. Some gin and water, and water and went to bed, tired enough. Next morn,
the breakfast bell rang before we were out of bed. The children had been awake
sometime, as merry as possible. I opened my eyes and saw a great black servant
going across the room. We were quickly set down to an excellent breakfast. So
many things, I cannot remember. Mr. and Mrs. Baker are very kind people. Mr.
Baker was delighted with the children. Sent for a cerchant to look at them.
Amelia recited her pieces. He was much pleased with them. Mr. Baker went to the
coach office with Thomas. The landlord at the inn, was Mr. Baker’s father. We
told them we should like a snap at twelve, as we should leave at once. We had
roast duck, boiled fowl, sausage and mince pie, boiled Indian corn etc. At one
the coach called for us, and we reached Georgetown very comfortable, a little
after six, at Mr. and Mrs. Claxton’s. They had been looking for us many weeks.
Received us kindly. We have been to a party at Mr. Wrights. Spent a day at
Washington, had many invitations. The inhabitants appear very kind. Think we
shall like the country very well. Have seen the Capitol Washington. A most
delightful place.
Note from
the journal: Annie West Page died April 17th, 1842, in her 41st
year. Proverbs 31st. 10th verse to the close of chapter.
…
We are all
shaped by those that came before us. We carry the wisdom of those we share our
journeys with, and those who write their thoughts and deeds down for unborn
generations. Too often we repeat mistakes. Too often we fail to heed those old
lessons. But our ancestors were survivors… and so are we.
Until next
time,
Read, Learn,
Live
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