griffing@fnal.gov

This travel diary was written by Frederick Elizur Goodrich (b. 18 Feb 1843, d. 1925) and his wife, Elizabeth Williams Parsons (b. 7 Dec 1840, d. before 1920), for their three children David Parsons Goodrich, Harold Beach Goodrich, and Theodora Caroline Goodrich.  Mary Francis Goodrich Baral was the only child of David Parsons Goodrich.  The diary was left in her possession when he died in Milwaukee.

Frederick Goodrich was the eldest son of Elizur Tryon Goodrich and Mary C. Beach of Hartford, CT. As a child, Frederick ("Freddie") was tutored by his Aunt Augusta Goodrich who lived with the family while attending a ladies female seminary in the city. Frederick graduated from Yale and eventually became the Editor of the Boston Globe -- the position he held at the time he wrote this diary. He also authored biographies on Grover Cleveland and Winfield Scott Hancock, and served as the private secretary of Boston Mayor Frederick O. Prince. 

Note: The diary was transcribed by Susan Baral, a descendant of Mary Francis Goodrich.  Frederick's contribution is in black, his wife Elizabeth's in blue.  Susan tried not to change spelling or punctuation though she confesses to adding a few periods, since Elizabeth seemed to think that a capital letter was a sufficient indication of a new sentence. There are images of each of the pages from the diary appearing within the transcribed text below. To enlarge the image, double-click on the image. To return to the web page, use the back key on the browser.

 On Board the “Carroll” ¹

Saturday, Sept. 1st, 1877

The morning was very threatening, cloudy & even showery.  I walked down to the J&Mc. car station in a pouring rain but the rain ceased after I was in the car & I took off my waterproof.  I reached the office at about eleven.  We were soon on our way to the “Carroll” through muddy streets and bad smells and a hot disagreeable walk it was too. Uncle Will came to the wharf to see us off so I scribbled a little note to the children & sent it off by him so that they will get it Monday morning.  We had a great time casting off but we were at last free.  We waved a good bye to uncle Will and were off.  There was another good bye and that was to the family in S. Boston.  I pinned a cord to the guards near where I sat so that the wind would wave it for me & then devoted myself to the glass.

We could see the family signals perfectly well without a glass & they waved and we waved until we passed behind Fort Independence out of sight.  Those dear little guys!  How their arms must have ached!  One of the deck hands a tall man with red side whiskers seemed much amused at our signals & matched us grinning.  After awhile he came up and laid a coil of rope near us & put two lights over the rail.  As he did so he remarked “I suppose you know what that is for” in a tone which implied that he knew we were green enough and knew nothing about it.  Papa informed him that we did not so he told us it was for the ­log and they should heave it when they got to the outer light.  Of course we staid out to see it done although the dinner bell rang just then.  A man came on deck with the most curious looking thing you ever saw.  (Papa will draw it in a minute, boys, so I won’t describe it.)  This he fastened to the line and then waited until Boston light was “just abeam” as he said and threw it out.  The rope ran out through the water for a long distance.  We thought we would wait and see him draw it in but when we found that they didn’t take it in until they reach Seal Island about 299 miles out, and which they reach tomorrow morning about 4 o’clock we then concluded we would not wait but took our dinner then.  A pretty good dinner it was too & papa ate & ate & ate until I was worn out particularly as the smell of the food made me feel a little afraid of being sick.

       
Pages 1-5 of diary; sketch of "log" appears on page 5 above

This is the “log”.  It is made of brass – A hollow cylinder about as long as your arm with an eye at one end to fasten the rope to.  The wings that you see near the other end are slanted like the blades of a propeller screw, & that part of the cylinder to which they are fastened turns loosely; so that as the log is dragged through the water, the wings turn round & round, fast if a boat drags it fast & slower if the boat goes slower.  Inside the log are little whirls which these wings move as they turn about, & thru little dials, which you see on the side, mark how many times the wings have whirled around in passing through the water.  When they have whirled around about a thousand times, the log will have dragged a mile through the water; & one little dial tells this.  Another tells when it has gone ten miles, & another when it has gone 100 miles.  So the log tells always just how many miles the boat has dragged it on its journey, & the captain can measure the miles off on his chart & see just where the boat is, if he has steered straight by the compass.  When the log is put in the water, the little dials (which look like the dials on the gas meter & have only one hand) are covered up by a brass slide which goes over them.  I have drawn them uncovered so that you might see.

By the way I meant to have told you that about one they set the sails & and they were the blackest sails you ever saw I think.  The man just stepped to the big bell that hangs in the bar & sounded eight bells.  They don’t ring the other horns, apparently.  Papa will draw the bell.

       
Pages 6-9 of diary; sketch of "hanging bell" appears on page 8

It is now half past five o’clock, & mamma is lying in her berth in her stateroom.  You may think it is because this is bed-time & she is sleepy.  But that is not so.  It is not bed-time and she is not sleepy.  She is sea-sick, I am sorry to say.  I have hooked on the side of her berth a tin thing like this - [small picture of tin basket] –which is provided in case people are very sick at their stomachs.  Mamma doesn’t feel as if she enjoys it much just now, but I think she will feel better when she goes to sleep.  The wind takes the smoke from steamer & carries it off miles & miles in a long stream across the sky.  It is so thick that it casts a shadow on the water.  There is no land to be seen anywhere.  The sky comes close down to the water all around, & the only thing to be seen except sky & water is a sail or two away off on the horizon.  The sun is setting bright & beautiful.  Our stateroom is very pleasant, on the upper deck & as Mamma lies in the upper berth, she can look out of a large window right out on the ocean as far as she can see.  But she says she is too sick to enjoy anything.

I have done it, boys.  It was the smell of the coffee that finished me.  Now I am growing sicker & sicker.

I have been to supper.  Mamma did not go.  At the supper table there was only one lady.  She sat opposite to me.  She took a large baked potato, broke it open, took out the inside & helped herself to a large piece of butter.  Then she got right up from the table & went to the stateroom without eating a bit, and didn’t come back.  I am afraid she was seasick, too.

Now the vessel’s lights have been hung out. There is a great red lantern on the port side; a green one on the starboard side; & a white one on the foremast.  On the side of the boat there is a place for the lantern, where it sits like this –

       
Pages 10-13 of diary; sketch of lantern appears on page 11

-- and is hidden from the deck & all its light thrown out and forward so that other vessels can see it.  But there have been no other vessels yet, although a sailor stands at the bow all the time on the lookout.  There is nothing to be seen but the stars overhead & the water about us.  Mamma says she will not come back by the boat, but will walk back.  It is now eight bells again, & my boys are going to bed at home, so papa & mamma bid them good-night.

Sunday, Sept 2nd.

Last night about eleven o’clock the vessel stopped & there was a great blowing off of steam.  We could not find out what was the matter for a long time although an unfortunate gentleman who was sick outside by the window of our stateroom was asked a number of questions on the subject.  He would reply politely & then another spasm would take him and as soon as that was over his inquisitive companion would ask him something else.  After a while a man came along who looked like an officer of the boat & of him papa asked what was the matter.  Huan – wised (Juan wheezed?) “Screwing her up a little”, so then we rested satisfied.  This morning we found that it was raining & foggy.  I went out on deck for a few minutes before breakfast but had to come back to bed again immediately.

When we went out on deck this morning we intended to go forward, but the rain water was sloshing across the deck from side to side as the boat rolled, & we retreated to the stern.  There we saw in the mist & rain, far behind the boat a great many sea-gulls flying about swiftly, back & forth, & looking for something to eat.  Now & then some scraps would be thrown out from the kitchen & float away on the waves.  One gull would catch sight of the morsel & settle down to pick at it.  Then all the rest would swarm & cluster about it until the whole flock would be fluttering & dipping into the water about our place.  There is a little land bird, a sort of swallow, on board.  He sits up on the rigging and looks lonesome.  He was probably lost in the fog, after having ventured too far from the shore or been blown off the land.  When the sun comes out bright again, as it will soon, I expect that he will bid us good bye & fly away, if he knows which way to go to get to the land again.  There has been no land in sight anywhere since Nantasket beach disappeared yesterday afternoon.  A larger brig has just passed us.  The top of her masts & sails was first seen on the horizon; then her hull; & then she came nearer & passed us with every sail set, going along beautifully.  The sea is very smooth & quiet, with only a slight swell which now makes the boat roll instead of pitch.  But mamma doesn’t seem to like it any better.  She is lying in her berth with her eyes closed & looks as if she was asleep.

It is now eight bells, & has come on heavy fog with rain.  We are approaching Cape Sable, but of course there is no chance of seeing anything, & so the only way the captain can tell how near we are to the coast is by finding out how deep the water is & then looking on his chart.  So they have just taken soundings.  They use a lead like this -

   
Pages 14-17 of diary; sketch of "lead" appears on page 17

..to which a rope is fastened, about as large as a clothes-line, which they drop into the water over the stern.  The lead goes down to the bottom, drawing the rope out after it.  At every ten fathoms of rope there is tied a piece of string with knots in it.  Each knot stands for ten fathoms.  So when the lead stopped drawing the rope out & the captain saw a piece of string with 5 knots in it he knew the lead had touched bottom fifty fathoms below.  That is 300 feet which is deep enough; & the captain knows that we are not very near land.  The whistle is blown every minute or two, so that other vessels may keep out of the way.

It is now four bells, 2 o’clock, & they have sounded again & drawn in the log.  We have come 240 miles from Boston Light, and the water is 35 fathoms deep.  The fog is still thick.  I got mamma a bowl of ox-tail soup, which she ate with some of the crackers in our trunk for her dinner, & the tin can by the side of her berth is still empty.  I hope this dinner will do her good.  She says she would give fifty dollars to be at home in her own house on the solid land that does not go up & down all the time.

Eight bells have struck.  I have written a letter home & another to grampa, & mamma has been asleep & waked up more comfortable.  She does not feel very sick now, but she is not well enough to get up or move about.  On the next page I will draw a picture of mamma in her bunk looking out of the window.

   
Pages 18-21 of diary; sketch of woman in bed appears on page 20

Sketch caption: "This is the way mamma took her pleasure trip"

Land in sight at last boys!  Cape Sable can be just distinguished away off on the horizon lying very low like a bank of cloud.  The fog has cleared off though it is still gray & cloudy & a sailor outside my window says we are going to pass a vessel soon.  Yes!  I sat up in my berth and leaned out & could see a ship off on the horizon.  I hope it will pass on this side so I can see it.  Oh dear if I need not smell the cooking so!  I verily believe they are having cabbage for tea.  They have cooked it incessantly ever since we came on the boat at J Wharf.  Now I can see the vessel plainly.  She is two or three miles away & is a large three masted schooner Davie.

Monday Sept. 3rd – Six AM

We are now running along the gold picturesque shore of Nova Scotia which we can see but dimly on account of the rain.  There appears to be a long line of moody bluffs with the surf breaking grandly at the foot.  I think it must be a fine sight in fair weather.  It is too bad it should be rainy.  If I could go outside I don’t believe I should be very sick but it is so wet I shall have to stay in my berth all day I am afraid.  Now here is a headland with a light house. 

   
Pages 22-25 of diary; sketch of Chebucto Head Light appears on page 22

I wish you could see how that little fishing boat bobs up & down with the swell.  Here comes a fishing boat almost out to the steamer.  We have just passed a fishing-village nestled into a hollow in the bluffs.  Oh what a pity it rains so hard.  We are now passing Herring Cove within about ten miles of Halifax.  These shores are wonderfully beautiful in spite of the rain – but Oh! How I wish I could get off at Halifax and never come into this horrid stateroom again.  I have had enough of the sea to last me a life time.  I think -- I can now see spires & chimneys through the fog -- This must be Halifax.  Oh what a dreadful voyage.

12 o’clock.  Our forenoon at Halifax is over.  We walked all about the place in a pouring rain & oh how hot I was in this flannel dress.  Then we went back to the “Halifax Hotel” where we had our breakfast as I ought to have said previously.  My only objection to the H. House is that it pitches badly but I suppose it could not be helped for the town itself rolls dreadfully.  The sidewalks pitch up & down all the time.  We are now steaming down Halifax Harbor.  I am sitting on the forward deck & hasten to write these few words before I have to go to my stateroom.  Just as I got seated here a sailor brought past two large pans of boiled cabbage.

Drawing of Sambro Light, oldest continuously-operating lighthouse in North America

When we waked up this morning we were just at Sambro Light, on the Nova Scotia coast, where there is also a fog horn which sounds once a minute.  We could see the steam issue forth in a long stream & then break off; and often that the sound of the horn would track us and continue as long as the steam had done.  Then came Chebucto Head, which I have drawn, with villages & rocky hills & moors, & at last Halifax Harbor & Halifax.  When the boat was fast to the dock we lost no time in walking through the rain about two blocks to the Halifax Hotel & getting a real good breakfast.  After breakfast we went out to view the town.  It still rained quite hard, & mamma’s boots were wet & mine let the water through; so we sought a boot & shoe store & I got a pair of thick boots that were made in England, & mamma got a pair of rubbers.  Wearing them we felt more comfortable, & went on our way to see the sights in the rain.  There are not many paved sidewalks here, but the streets are not so muddy as ours.  They run very steep up a high hill on the top of which is a fort called the Citadel.  In the fort are also three tall masts for signaling the vessels that come in.  We did not go up to the Citadel, as it was very wet & hot, but walked around by the barracks, the cemetery – where there is a monumental arch to the horrors of the Crimean war, with a stone lion on the top of it – the public buildings and a great many dirty little streets without paved sidewalks.  There were also a great many dogs & many goats & soldiers in scarlet coats & dark long overcoats & little round hats on one side of their heads everywhere. 

This is the sort of hats the soldiers wore, & the way they wore them.  They have to keep them on by a strap that goes under their chin, as this does.  Halfway up the hill on which the Citadel stands is the town clock.

       
Pages 26-31 of diary; sketch of "hats the soldiers wore" on page 26, sketch of "town clock" in Halifax on page 27

After we had seen all the things we could see in Halifax, & mailed a letter to you  & to grampa, & sat awhile in the hotel, the sun shown out again & we went down to the Carroll, which was to sail at 12 o’clock.  At five minutes before 12, we slowly swung out into the stream & steamed down the harbor.  It was more beautiful in the morning, because it was sunshiny & clear & cool.  Everything was delightful; & although the smell is heavier & the motion greater than yesterday, mamma is not quite so sick.  She is now (at 3 o’clock) almost ready to give up, but she is holding out pretty well.  She had a cracker & a glass of wine for her dinner, which she ate on the forward deck, not going inside.  I waited on her at her delicate dinner, and then I went & got mine.  What do you think it was?  A cracker?  No; it was soup & roast beef & beefsteak pie & potatoes & tomatoes & apple pie & watermelon & coffee.

We are sailing along about 8 miles from the coast of Nova Scotia, & the sails are all set, for the wind is blowing finally.  They are not white sails, but black as ink; for the smoke from the soft coal which the steamer burns blackens them completely.  The boat pitches & rolls very much & the sea is covered with white-caps.  We have passed a number of fishing schooners, & there is one now right on our starboard beam that pitches as if it were about to stand up straight on its stern & then turn a somersault on its bowspring, & that is almost buried from sight when it goes down into the trough of the sea.  Mamma does not like the motion of the boat & says she wishes she was at home.

I will now write a few words at the table in the cabin, to bid my boys good-night.  Mamma has gone to bed, but says she cannot sleep.  The boat rocks so.  It has rocked & pitched all the afternoon more than I ever imagined a boat could do and keep right-side up.  The dishes on the table at supper had to be kept from sliding about by long strips of wood that run the length of the table; & it is almost impossible to walk about.  But it is very fine to sit still & be rocked about by the great waves, like mountains that take you up on their tops & then slide you gently down into the valley.  Mamma has sat on a settee on the forward deck all the afternoon, & has not been sick, although she has not felt like moving about.  Two very awful things happened.  One was that the boat rolled so that it threw over the bottle of wine I had for mamma in our stateroom, & the cork flew out & all the wine was spilled on the floor except the one glass that mamma had for dinner.  The other awful thing was that a whale came along & spouted & showed his back not far from the boat, & we did not see him!  About two hours after midnight we shall get out of this rough water, & when we wake up we shall probably be coming into the Strait of Canso.  Now I am going to bed to be rocked to sleep by the ocean.

Tuesday, Sept 4th.

The way he was rocked by the ocean was that for hours he lay awake trying to cling to his berth instead of being thrown out on the stateroom floor. 

   
Pages 32-35 of diary; sketch of "The Straits of Canso from Hawkesbury" appears on page 33

The ship was filled with the noise of the tremendous waves & small articles of furniture flying about.  The roll was something awful – I found my knees black & blue this morning where I had braced them against the side of my berth to prevent being thrown out.  Of course there was no such thing as repose.  If we lost ourselves for a minute we would go tossing about in a painful & dangerous manner.  About three o’clock we got a little inside the land & the heavy roll ceased so we slept until about five when we arrived at [Port] Hawkesbury, Cape Breton, where we stopped to put off passengers & cargo.  We got up & dressed.  We found it fearfully cold & put on all the warm things we have & have nearly frozen since.  There was a truly trained dog at Hawkesbury who superintended the whole business of the wharf very faithfully although he was very cold & sat shivering & holding up one paw whenever he had nothing to do about the ropes.

When we got away from Hawkesbury we went through the Strait of Canso & I must say that I never saw or expected to see such beautiful scenery.  The shores were high-headland.  After headland coming into view, covered clear down to the water’s edge with grass & trees with single houses, fisherman’s huts, farm houses & frequently little hamlets with a white church with its spire a little apart from the rest, and amidst all the early morning sunshine.  I wish we could paint it for you.  Papa will try to draw just the strait for you but we can’t reproduce the scenery.  I can imagine only one thing more beautiful & that is the same scenery with the hues of October.  We are now speeding along at a great rate in a spanking breeze up Northumberland Sound toward Pictou which we expect to reach about noon.  I don’t feel very well & am afraid I can’t walk about Pictou much but we shall dine there.

Mamma’s account of the rolling & pitching of the boat last night does not tell half of it.  It was really funny to be unable to lie down without holding on, or to sit in a chair without tipping over.  If I went to open a door, I would find that I couldn’t, because the boat would tip me right back & I would have to hold on to the knob to keep from falling over backward.  The next instant the boat would roll to the other side & I would pitch forward into the stateroom banging my head against the door & tumbling right through into the room.  During the evening a large pitcher of water leaped off the cabin table & smashed itself against the side.  Altogether it was a lively time, & mamma didn’t like it much.  But at last we got to sleep, & when we waked up this morning it was beautiful enough to pay for it all, as mamma has told you.  Mamma wants me to draw you one of the sailors here.  His name is Aleck, he is always busy about something; & when he is pulling a rope in always calls out, at each pull, “ Ah-hee!  Yo-ho!  Hee-ho!  Hee-yah!  Yah-ho!”  I don’t know as I can make a picture much like him, but I will try.

Pages 36-37 of diary; sketch of "Aleck pulling a rope" appears on page 37

Caption: "Yo-hee!"

2 P.M. We are nearing Pictou which we can see before us in the hollow of the hills.  Pictou Island is plainly seen at our right.  Prince Edward Island is a blue line in the distance.  I am hungry and shall soon have some dinner.

Evening – We went to Pictou & had a good dinner at the St. Lawrence House & there I wrote you a letter telling you about it.  After we had finished our dinner and the letter we went down to the ferry boat where we found one of our travelling companions.  Mr. Browne a young lawyer of Abington near Boston.  The ferry boat landed us at the wharf of the Inter Colonial R.R. about half a mile from where the “Carroll” was taking in coal. 

Pages 38-39 of diary; sketch of "Pictou, from the Carroll at the coaling station opposite" appears on page 38

Caption: "End of the harbor one mile down"

We all three walked along the track together toward the wharf where the Carroll lay.  When we were about half way there we saw the purser & engineer & two ladies from the boat sitting on a green hill above the track.  They beckoned to us so we went up & sat with them a few minutes.  Then we climbed the hill, that is papa & I did, to see if there were any woods or wild flowers.  We did not find any but we found something more curious still.  Mr. Browne was there talking with a queer old man who lived all alone in a tumble down old house with boards in half the windows instead of glass.  We had a long talk with him.  He was a Scotchman from old Glasgow & he had a great deal to say about the ruin that was coming to the country in consequence of the introduction of railroads and other new things.  By the way, he had a noble & truly trained little dog named Prince who played with me very affably for a long while.  Presently he showed us a curious old sun dial which his father had made of stone.  It had actually moss on it & he apologized for it & said he had not had time to polish it up!

(Small drawing of sun dial appears on page 39)

After that I told him I was thirsty & he got me some water in his house.  That gave us a chance to all troop in  which we joyfully did & such a queer old house & so full of queer old things I never saw.  He had a queer old chair & lovely old fashioned platters & a curious old clock which he said cost 15 guineas & which was certainly peculiar enough.  If we had not felt obliged to go back to the boat we could have seen a great deal more & as it was we need not have hurried for it is now after eight & we have not yet started and shant perhaps for another hour.  I have been sitting in the cabin to write by the cabin light, but I am going on deck for a look at the stars with papa & afterwards to bed – So Good Night.

The way the Carroll took on coal was to tie up to the wharf, on which a railroad ran out on a projection over her deck, & to fit an iron funnel in one of her hatches.  This funnel led to the coal bunkers, & the cars ran out one by one, on the railroad over it & emptied right into the vessel.  The bottom of the cars opened downward & let all the coal out at once when a man turned a crank.  Each car held 5 tons of coal, & it made a great noise as it tumbled down into the vessel through the iron funnel.  We did not leave Pictou until 9 o’clock in the evening, when the stars were all out & the light-houses bright.  Mamma has gone to bed & I shall now bid my boys good-night.

   
Pages 40-43 of diary; pressed plant near the spine between pages 40-41

This is heath of Nova Scotia and I suppose must be similar to the heather of “Auld Scotia”.  Mr. Brown picked it on the hill near the house of the old man I was telling you about so I have pressed a bit & put it in here to remind me of that lovely stroll.  One of the pleasantest walks I ever took.

Wednesday A.M. Sept 5th.  Charlottetown [Prince Edward Island]

We came slowly over from Pictou  & lay to outside for about two hours as they did not care to run into Charlottetown in the night.  We got in about five o’clock & papa would get up and dress though I should have liked to sleep longer.  The harbor does not seem so interesting as the others we have seen but I was asleep most of the way so perhaps that is one reason I did not like it.  I got dressed in time to see them make their landing though I heard Aleck’s cheerful “Yo-hee! Yip! A ho!” as he hauled in the cables long before I was out of my stateroom.  I managed to drive the hasp of my trunk into my eye before I left my room & that really did hurt me & mar up my face a good deal.  We walked up from the boat & inquired our way to “Miss Rankin’s Salon” as one of the natives called it & were shown up stairs into a very ordinary bedroom where I am now writing.  We don’t have breakfast until half past eight so papa has gone out for a walk and to find the Post Office.  I am sleepy & hungry & so far Charlottetown doesn’t look like much of a place.

Charlottetown is considerable of a place, after all, as mamma will say after I have taken her out riding this afternoon.  I walked over the city before breakfast, & saw the Market House, the Post Office & other rather colonial buildings.  I also went to the outskirts of the city, where there are beautiful green meadows stretching right down to the sea.  Boys were driving the cows to pasture.  One boy drove his two cows right down to the sea, & I wondered the cows in this land drank salt water.  But they did not go there to drink.  They walked slowly & solemnly into the water, & kept on walking & walking out until nothing but their horns & noses could be seen.  Then I saw that on the other side of this arm of the sea was a fine green meadow; & the cows knew the shortest path there across the water, & kept on until they came out on the other side & immediately whisked their tails & began to graze.  If we were not so tired we would take the railroad & go to Summerside; but we shall stay at the hotel this forenoon & take a little drive in the afternoon to see the country about here.

It is now half-past five, & we have taken the drive of which I spoke, & it has been a delightful one.  We went about the city & saw the streets, which are very nice, & the houses, many of which have a lay-dormer window in the middle like this-

Pages 44-45 of diary; sketch of house with upstairs dormer window appears on page 44

And many of them, & some of the churches, are shingled all over, the sides as well as the roof.  Then we went out into the country several miles, & back again & out on the other side, until we had seen the country all about.  It is all beautiful farms, as smooth as Independence Square & much brighter green, with gentle hills & rollings.  The fields are separated by hedges or by rows of trees, & the farm houses are not set close to the road, but away back, with trees around them & in front of them, so that you do not see them very plainly from the road, but they look cosy & comfortable & homelike.  A drive, opening into the road by a large gate, leads up to the farm house.  We passed a great many of these farms, so separated from each other that no one seemed to have any neighbors; & from some of the hills which we crossed we could look far away over the beautiful green valleys& see the bright farms & comfortable farm houses, with cows & horses & sheep grazing in the pastures.  Once, when we passed close to the river which sits in from the sea, the tide was out & we saw a goose-boy driving home his flock of geese from one of the flats which the tide had left bare.

Pages 46-47 of diary; sketch of goose-boy with geese appears on page 46

The summer is very beautiful here, but the winter is very long & very cold.  The winter is two months longer than ours, & so the farmers have to get a great deal of hay to keep their horse & cattle & sheep from starving while the ground is covered with snow.  Many of the hay-stacks that we saw were as large as houses, & there were fields of turnips, which the sheep like, as large as Independence Square.  Some of the way the wad went through 2 woods & we tried to find some blossoms or ferns different from what we have at home.  But we could not find any, & so we picked these little ferns, just to remind you of our ride through the farms of Prince Edward Island.

(Small ferns are glued to page 47)

Thursday, Sept 6th.

This morning papa went to the Post Office & brought back the family letter.  I was delighted to hear from you again for I was beginning to feel very much shut out from you all.  My nice little children!  How I would like to see them!  I knew Harold’s sharp eyes would see the “Carroll” as soon as anybody.  Nobody says a word about that truly excellent little dog.  Well, I am glad to hear about the family & Davie wrote me a real good little letter too.  This morning I wrote a letter to Aunt Mary & Papa & I went down to post it.  We took a walk round the Gov. General’s place, the one with woods described in Harper’s Magazine.

It is rather a fine house though it is made of wood – and the grounds are mostly covered with thick woods just cleared away near the house & with a beautiful lawn stretching down to the harbor in front.  The carriage drive of which there was a picture in Harper is pretty enough, but not like the picture at all as there is an avenue & looks as if it were about half a mile long.  There is a variety company staying here at the hotel & one of them is a little girl about as old as Davie.  She has a very cunning little dog with a collar & bell & I went out this PM & had a long talk with her & a great play with the dog – Snap.  They came in on the steamer Bermuda from Newfoundland & the dog was seasick, just think of that!  Here is a little wild flower that I picked this morning in the Governor General’s grounds.  One curious thing we noticed in our walk.  A great many of the houses had their front doors standing open so that we could look in & there were any quantity of those mats such as Jessie used to make.  Some rooms had bare floors & then five or six mats and in one place they had two or three mats in the frames.  Afternoon.  The “Carroll” is steaming down Northumberland Sound.  It seemed very well to be back on her again & all the officers were very pleasant.  Aleck was Yip-ho-ing on the deck when we arrived & actually brought me a camp chair when he saw me sitting on the anchor.  The sun is bright & warm & everything looks beautiful.  I shall hate to leave the “Carroll” after all, it seems like home to us.  We are passing the wreck of the “Katy McDonald”:  Isn’t that queer?

We have just passed the bell-buoy which rings out the most melancholy peal as it tosses on the waves.

       
Pages 48-53 of diary; sketch of "bell-buoy" appears on page 48

The sun is nearly setting and its light glitters in the windows of a distant light-house.  They are setting the sails & I hear Aleck crying “A-he-O” over the other side of the ship.  And a beautiful sunset with one sail in the yellow glow.

The iron frame of the bell-buoy, that stands up above the water, is painted red; the bell, which hangs low down, as you see, does not swing as it is hung, or have a tongue inside to make it ring.  It is held fast, & four tongues, or clappers, one on each side, swing back & forth & make it ring a great deal more frequently than if there was only one tongue inside.  The stars came out very beautifully, & mamma & I sat out for a long time on the forward deck looking at them & at the light-houses that appeared all around, very bright.  Now we have come in, for it is very cold, & in a few minutes we shall go to bed.

Friday, Sept 7th. Port Hawkesbury.

Last night there was a fine display of the Northern Lights.  We looked at them a while & then went to bed.  The Captain had told us we should be in Port H. about 4 A.M.  So we did not undress entirely but had everything packed & ready for an early start.  The consequence was that I could not sleep.  Every time I dropped off I dreamed that we were at the Port & I could not get dressed in time & sometimes I thought Da was there & I could not get him dressed.  So by & by as we had not been called & I was quite sure we must be near the Straits I rose & finished my dressing.  The stars were shining but there was a promise of dawn in the East & there were lights & woody shores close to us on both sides, so I told papa he had better get up which he did, and we went out on deck.  It was cold & we were hungry.  Pretty soon the Capt. came along and asked me if I often got up as early & then informed us to our disgust that we should stay there about three hours!  When we came up we stopped about fifteen or twenty minutes.  So I had all my sleepless night for nothing.  We took on twenty six passengers & innumerable barrels of fish so it took quite three hours but happily the purser invited us into the mess room & gave us a cup of coffee all around which warmed us up a little.  Then we came off the ship & after a while we waved a goodbye to the “Carroll” & she steamed off down the Straits.  I must say I felt a little sorry to see her go.  Everybody was very kind to us & all the officers were pleasant & it seems as if we were banished particularly as we can’t get to Sidney and shall have to stay here until Monday P.M.  The scenery is beautiful here & papa & I took a most lovely walk in the hills before breakfast.  There was absolutely not a sound to be heard except the tinkling of the cow bells, and the bleating of the sheep.  I meant to have told you that on the way up here from the wharf we saw a Labrador dog..  He was a curious looking animal.  Something like a St. Bernard only longer & more slender & with a bushy tail that hung down like a wolf.  In fact he looked like a wolf exactly.  They have three dogs here at the house where we are staying.  One is called Tom & is a large Newfoundland. One is “Rat” a scotch terrier very much like Ody P. & the other is a poodle without any particular name. When we go to pet one they all crowd round & hustle each other away.  All the provincial dogs I have seen seem very pleasant & friendly.  The breakfast here was horrible.  I really could not eat it though papa was so hungry that he made a good meal.  I am not going to write any more now for I feel a little homesick for the Carroll & beautiful as this spot is I don’t like to stay here over Sunday.

Mamma went out to walk with me again this afternoon, & sat on the beach & looked at Cape Porcupine & cried.  I think she’s homesick, & indeed, it is too bad that we can’t go to Sidney, & this is not a nice hotel to stay in so long.  But mamma is tired & she will feel better tomorrow.  Across the harbor is a camp of Indians living in real wigwams, that we must go & see.  Mamma has been in her room most of the day, she is so tired; but I went on a long walk this afternoon through the woods & the fields.  There are little house scattered all over the hills, far apart, with no road near them & often hardly a cow-path.  Some of them have no windows, but only a door & a chimney & the people who live in them look very dirty.  Others are larger & better & look quite comfortable, but I have seen none at all like the farm-houses on Prince Edward Island.  I walked over the country by cow & sheep paths& through the bushes; & although I walked several miles, I did not have to cross a fence.  I picked mamma a branch of wild flowers & berries, some of which she put in here.

       
Pages 54-59 of diary; Stems with wild flowers are pressed between pages 54 & 55  

   
Early pictures of Port Hawkesbury (click to enlarge)

Saturday Sept 8th.  Is it possible it is only a week ago that I left home?  It seems at least a month.  It is pretty cool & fresh up here and we are wearing our thick clothes all the time.  Next Saturday at this time I suppose we shall be on our way home.  I’m afraid my journal will not grow much until we leave this place, as it is very dull & there is nothing to write about that would interest you.  The “Hotel” as it is called is a horrid place.  The rooms are small & uncomfortable although they are clean but the table is awful.  This morning at breakfast we had toast – the bread by the way all through the Provinces seems to be gray & sour & is not greatly improved by toasting.    The toast was soggy with butter & was half cold.  Then there were fish ball not much like what you will have tomorrow morning but rank & greasy & made with onions & there were boiled eggs hard & tepid.  I had some eggs boiled specially for me & with the toast & a glass of milk got through somehow. I can tell you though I mean to eat when I get where there is something good.  It is cloudy today & to me very chilly although I am dressed in winter things.  I have made acquaintance with the other boarders.  They are quite pleasant but rather common.  But the old gentleman who keeps the house is the most horrid old reprobate you ever saw.  He is tipsy about half the time & talks & gabbles disgustingly & even indecently all the time.  Sometimes he will interrupt your conversation to make silly jokes & laugh at his own wit.  He is the most horrible old man I ever saw.  There is a sea captain here whose vessel is in the dry dock for repairs.  It is coming off Monday & he has invited papa & me to go over it & take dinner there & if the weather is good I think we shall go.  Papa is going out to see if he can catch some lobsters.

We went out in a boat, when the tide was almost low, & rowed around the wharves.  Looking over through the water we would occasionally see a lobster stretched out quietly on the bottom, eating his dinner or going to sleep.  Then we would take a pole that had a large fish-hook fastened on one end & put it cautiously down, close to the lobster & twitch him up as quick as we could.  Sometimes the hook would not catch through the lobster’s hard shell, he would scramble away & hide himself under the wharf.  Once we hooked a nice large fellow, but when we brought the hook up to the surface of the water, we found we had only a lobster’s shell, while the real lobster we saw scrambling away on the bottom.  He was just casting off his old shell when we got hold of him; & when he felt us pulling him up he just slipped his tail out & ran away.  We caught hold of this same fellow’s claw again, & he let his claw go, & swam off without it.  This claw was just the same in shape & color as when it had a hard shell, but it was all soft & flabby.  After I came back from the lobster hunt I got a horse buggy & took mamma out to ride.  We went along the shore of the Strait of Canso about 3 miles to Port Hastings, & then took a road that goes inland across the island to Nost Bay on the Bras d’Or.  We drove through beautiful woods, over rugged hills & along side deep chasms for several miles.  The land rises from the sea into a hilly range, covered with forests, boggy & rocky on the other side of which the farming country begins.  The hills are very picturesque & the woods have a very thick carpet of moss.  The trees are almost entirely in greens.  It was so late when we got to the cultivated land, that we went only far enough to see only one of the farms, & then turned about & came back to Hawkesbury.  The land does not seem as handsomely cultivated as in Prince Edward Island, but it is naturally much more picturesque.  Coming back, we saw the sun set over the Strait of Canso, & a wonderful sight it was.  The sky was beautifully bright & crimson, back of Cape Porcupine & the purple headlands, & all was reflected in the smooth waters of the Strait which stretched out below us far away until shut in with other headlands to the north & the south.  It was like a great lake among the hills.  When we got home we found the lobsters had all been eaten up as we were late for supper.  Mamma feels rather bitter about Hawkesbury; but we are both tired & shall so to bed early.

Sunday Sept. 9th.

It has been much warmer today & has not rained as we expected.  Soon after breakfast we started on a long walk over the hills.  We were driven to it by the Captain’s insisting on holding a conversation with us.  We climbed the hills & walked clear across the valley to the opposite hill.  We found a lovely flock of sheep & some of them were baa-ing.  The ground was very boggy & we had to lay logs in one place to get across. I don’t see how it can be so wet on the top of these hills.  Then we came to a brook with logs laid over it.  Papa insisted that it was an easy bridge but I would not go, so I sat on the end of it & read while papa drew the picture on the next page.

   
Pages 60-63 of diary; sketch of "mamma sitting on the end of the bridge" appears on page 60

Caption reads, "Mamma will not cross the bridge"

When we had crossed there was a pleasant farm house with sun flowers growing round it, & the people in it directed us into a road that would take us back to Capt. Stapleton’s.  We got back at just dinner time.  After dinner papa & one of the gentlemen proposed to go & dig some clams so finally we all went.  We went down on the beach & dug some clams & found two lobsters & a crab.  Then Capt. Kimball made a nice oven & they washed the clams & after the oven was well heated they put them in & covered them with wet seaweed & then we waited for them to bake.  The tide began to come in very fast and we were really afraid that it would get high enough to wash into our oven before the clams were done.  However at last they were cooked enough & you don’t know how nice they were.  Wasn’t it queer boys, Papa & mamma having a clam bake in the Straits of Canso?  I thought of it all the time.  By & by the sun set most beautifully behind Cape Porcupine & the sky & the water were streaked with beautiful colors & then we all came back to the Hotel for our supper, for we had only a few clams.  We all wanted more but the tide was a little too high.

Monday Sept. 10th.

A beautiful day.  This morning the “Othere” came off the railway and all the gentlemen went over to see her launched.  We heard of a nice place to get ferns out a Pirate’s Cove Island this pm.  We invited the ladies to go & papa engaged a man to take us over in a boat. We landed & then had a tremendous climb equal to the Berkshire climbs [of Western Massachusetts], up to the top of a hill & then down into the most beautiful glen I ever saw.  A brook cut directly through the rock making a wild & beautiful gorge two or three hundred feet deep, & falling in two beautiful cascades.  On one side rose cliffs perpendicularly to the height of fifty or sixty feet & these were covered with exquisite mosses & ferns.  I never saw such a beautiful sight.  We got a large basket full which I shall try to bring home.  We had a splendid ramble then we went down to our boat rather tired & hot.  We got in & found that the wind had gone down & as usual when I am on board there was almost a dead calm.  When we got opposite the light house we got caught by the curious tide of Canso & could not get round the Point although we worked for two hours.  It was very provoking but finally we got back about half past seven.  We have eaten our supper & have just heard our boat the “Princess” come in.  We are packing up & bye & bye shall go aboard & set sail about 8 o’clock AM.  Papa is going to draw a picture of Hartley’s Falls here for you but he cannot show you half how beautiful.  The people here all except the landlord have been very pleasant and all seem sorry to have us go.  They are going down to the wharf bye & bye to see us off.

Good bye to Hawkesbury.  The entire party accompanied us down to the Princess of Wales & staid until about 10 o’clock.  Capt. Angus Grant had got us the best stateroom in the boat & we put our things in & sat in the saloon until bed time.  We start out about 3 AM so we can have a pretty good sleep first.  So good bye to the beautiful Strait of Canso.

   
Pages 64-67 of diary; sketch of "Hartley Falls, Pirates’ Cove, Nova Scotia" appears on page 64

Tuesday, Sept. 11.  I am writing this on the balcony of the Victoria Hotel in Truro, Nova Scotia.  When we waked up this morning we were steaming along up Northumberland Sound, along the beautiful Nova Scotia coast, just where we were one week ago, & going in the same direction, toward Pictou.  I got up early, & mamma soon followed me, & we sat & watched the shores & the sea until breakfast time.  On one side was Nova Scotia, & on the other Pictou Island soon came in sight, with Prince Edward Island appearing like a blue line on the horizon.  Then we had breakfast, tasting the first real beefsteak we have had since leaving home; & soon after we steamed past the striped lighthouse into Pictou harbor.  The boat stopped at the International Railway station on the side of the harbor opposite the town, & we got into the cars, bidding good bye to Northumberland Sound, & in the course of half an hour were riding away.  We passed a coal mine, from which they ran out a little car on a high track & dumped a load of coal into the locomotive tendre; & we went on through a beautiful country, with smooth hills & meadows & valleys & farms, until we reached this place.  Truro is near the head of the Bay of Fundy; but the reason we stop here is that the train for St. John does not connect with that on which we came, & we have to wait until evening for one to come along from Halifax & take us to Dorchester, where we expect to stop until tomorrow afternoon to see the tide come in.  We shall not get to Dorchester until after 12 o’clock tonight; but it is the best we can do.  Mamma went out shopping in Truro after dinner, to get a pair of gloves.  She bought some black ones, and burst one of them putting them on; so she got a needle & silk from the clerk, & a piece of an old glove to sew under the torn place, & sat right down in the store & mended it there.

We passed a very quiet afternoon at Truro taking our dinner & supper at the Victoria Hotel.  Before supper we took a stroll up to the top of a hill where there was a big building.  We wanted to know what it was & by looking through the windows we found that it was an exhibition building of some kind.  There were long tables  & galleries & all round it were grounds & sheds for the exhibition of cattle & sheep.  As soon as we saw it said “Positively No Admittance” we wanted dreadfully to go in and tried for a long time without any success.  We found one thing though by our efforts.  While we were prowling about behind the building we came upon the wildest & most beautiful little glen you can imagine.  A deep cut in the hills with a beautiful stream flowing rapidly through it, and the glen was all dark while the top of the hill where we were was lighted beautifully by the setting sun.  We found quantities of mushrooms growing there.  I could have filled a basket in no time, and they were very large nice ones.  After our tea we sat a good while on the balcony of the hotel looking at the stars.  Then our train came in & we went over to the station.  We had decided to go on to Monckton instead of Dorchester as we did not feel sure about the time of the low tide & we felt afraid we might not have time enough to see it.  Monckton is farther along on our route & of course our train will not start so early for St. Johns.  We went on the cars at nine o’clock & had to ride until half past one.  It was rather tedious but we stretched ourselves out & slept a good deal and got along with it nicely.  There were several little children stretched out on the car seats sleeping, poor little things!  They were all pretty good & did not cry.  We arrived at Monckton as I said about half past one & were down to the Wilder House where we were given a room & went gladly to bed.

Wednesday Sept. 12th.

A most beautiful warm pleasant morning.  We have had our breakfast & are only waiting now for the tide.  The place to see the bore is about a mile from the hotel on an old wharf.  The tides are not very high just now.  Saturday was a very high one but the others are said not to be very much.  A young lady at the Hotel, a daughter of the proprietor, although she lives here has never seen the [tidal] bore.  She says she has heard it all this distance but has never had the curiosity to go to see it.  Isn’t that rather curious.

       
Pages 70-75 of diary; sketch of "The Bore in the Petitcodiac Rim at Moncton, New Brunswick" appears on page 71

This is not very much like the bore, to be sure, but it is as well as I can make it.  After breakfast I left mamma on the balcony of this very pretty hotel, & took a walk to the bridge which marches along the Pettitcodiac River at this place.  The tide was going out rapidly, & the steep banks of the river – all no mud - & the bed was dry, leaving only a channel through which the tide poured.   On the way back to the hotel I passed through a large meadow, in which were a woman & her two little boys, all gathering mushrooms.  The meadow was full of them, showing their white heads above the short grass, & the basket that the woman carried was soon filled.  Then she went home with the smallest of the boys, & the other remained & picked his hat full in a few minutes.  I picked two handsome one to show to mamma.  One of them was as large as Harold’s hand.  Mamma wants very much to take some of them home, but fears they will spoil before we get to Boston.  When I got back to the hotel, the tide was still lower, but not yet ready to turn.  All this time it is flowing out of the Bay of Fundy & out of the little bays & rivers that empty into it.  And when the tide turns & comes up the Bay, the shape of the shores is such – something like a funnel – that the water comes into a narrower & narrower space & is crowded together & heaped up in a high wave as it rushes on.  And when it gets into the rivers, this wave is still more crowded by the banks & by the shallowness of the streams, & when it meets the tide going out it rises up into a breaker something like that which we saw at Nantasket Beach, comes up the river foaming & roaring.  This roaring wave is called the bore.  We could not find out exactly when the tide turned.  Some said 11 o’clock & some said not until 2.  But we concluded that if we were down there by 12 o’clock we would be in time  & could wait for it.  So mamma & I took this journal & a book to read & the opera glass & umbrella – for it was very sunny & hot -& walked to a wharf at the other end of the town, where we can see just around the bend of the river.  I wanted mamma to sit under the shade of a beautiful tree in a green field near by; but she was so afraid of missing the sight of the bore that she persisted in sitting on the wharf.  So we sat & talked & waited for nearly an hour, until after half past twelve.  Mamma saw it first, for I was not looking.  “I see a long white line over there,” said she, pointing away off to where the river comes in sight around the point.  “That, mamma,” said I instructingly, “is the bore.”  The white line of foam kept marching right up the river, & mamma could see the spray from it dashing up the banks as it swept along.  “I don’t think it amounts to much,” said mamma, “if this is all there is to it.  I don’t think it is worth coming to see.”  But the wave came nearer & nearer, dashing up the banks; & soon we heard its roar as it rushed along.  It spread out over the flats, frightening up the sea-gulls & other birds that were sitting there; & if there had been any pigs wallowing in the mud, I think they would surely have been caught, no matter how fast they ran.  Then as it came toward us we could see that it was a wall of foaming water, about 3 feet high, tumbling & roaring & hissing, sometimes combing over like a breaker on the sea-brach, but mostly looking like another river running swiftly on the surface of the arc we were looking at, in which the tide was going out.  It was a very wonderful sight; and mamma took back all she had said about it, & declared that it paid for waiting to see, & that she would not have missed it for anything.  After the bore passed us & went roaring up the river, the water was several feet deeper & the tide continued to pour in like a rapid stream.  We could see it rise along the banks, & we stayed on the wharf until it had reached the schooner which you see lying there & had cover the bed of the side away over to the banks which you see on the right hand side of the picture.  The water is very red & muddy & looks as thick as paint.  It is not nice at all, & I don’t think anyone ever goes bathing in it.  The schooner which you see lying at the wharf on the left rests on a platform of logs so that she will not tip over when the tide goes out; & when I drew the picture the water was some distance below this platform, & the wharf was more than 25 feet above the schooner’s deck.  Now the tide is in & the rim is full & the schooner floats up alongside the wharf.  It is now almost time to go over to the station & take the train for St. John, where we shall arrive at half past seven this evening & get some letters from home.

Evening.  St. Johns.  We had a very tedious ride here.  I don’t know why but the cars stopped every other minute & were very late in.  We took a carriage to the Royal Hotel & it is indeed Royal compared with the other Hotels we have patronized on our trip.  Our room is small and up to flights of stairs but it is comfortable and the bed looks as if we could sleep one it.  We have had our supper & that naturally makes us feel brighter.  I begin to feel as if I were going home.  St. Johns people seem more like our own & everything about the hotel seems like our own people.  They talk our language & I must say it is not quite so musical as the pretty provincial brogue.  Still it seems more like Boston.  After supper Papa went to the Post Office and got your letter postmarked Sept. 6th.  You don’t know how glad we were to hear.  I wish I had told you to write again here after I found out I was detained but I must rest with this unsatisfactory state of things until I can get home & hug you all.

 
Royal Hotel, St. John, New Brunswick

Thursday Sept. 13th. Morning.

We have had a fine night’s rest on the only good bed we have seen in the Provinces.  Our room is very pleasant.  It looks out on what was evidently before the fire a public square, but which is now crowded with sheds & shanties where the people who were burned out are doing business.  Directly opposite me is one with the sign “E.E. Kennay Piano Forte Manufacturer.”  Think of making pianos in a shanty like that.  Another says “H.A. McCullough Wholesale & Retail Dry Goods.”  There are even some tents on the hill.  Over beyond glitter the bright waters of the Bay of Fundy.  Papa has gone out to make some inquiries but has been gone so long that I don’t suppose I shall have time to go out this forenoon. 

Evening.  Papa went to a newspaper office & when he go hold of some numbers of the Boston Post he forgot to come back naturally until nearly dinner time.  When he came he brought with him Mr. Elder, the editor of one of the newspapers here.  He came very politely to call upon me & was very nice & agreeable.  He invited us to go to Do. Talmadge’s picture tonight & afterwards to go to his house to meet Dr. Talmadge but I did not feel like visiting anywhere of course so I declined.  After he told us a great many interesting things about the fire & I think would have taken us to ride this PM if he had not had an engagement to deliver an address.  After he was gone we had our dinner & then went out for a walk to see the city.  We had a very nice walk indeed & we think St. John must have been a fine city before the fire.  We saw the ruins of course & went about doing some shopping among the shanties on the Park and in the little crowded stores that the people have to use now.  It was about tea time when we came home & after tea we came up to our room where we mean to go to bed early as our steamer the “City of Portland” starts at eight o’clock & we shall have to get up early.  We feel that our vacation is over & we are about ready to go home to our dear little family.   It is about high time to for Papa’s money is about gone, as we found this PM when we wanted to buy some things that we can’t buy.  It is clouding up and I am afraid it is going to rain tomorrow.  I hope not for it is very disagreeable on the boat when it rains.  In fact it is raining hard now, but I hope it will prove only a shower.  Oh! how I long to see my little children!  And yet this has been a beautiful trip.

Friday Sept.14th.  (City of Portland)

A lovely warm morning.  Good By to St. John.  Three whistles have sounded & we are casting off.

Eastport.  We have had a fine trip so far though the wind is so cold that we had to go into our stateroom for our flannels soon after starting.  We met Mr. Merrill one of our traveling companions on the “Carroll” & had quite a chat with him.  Papa & I went on shore & took a little walk while the boat lay at Eastport.  The houses were large & old fashioned with beautiful great gardens.  We saw a nice little girl with large dark eyes walking along the street – this little girl was – not the eyes.  I said to her as I went past “Are you a good girl?”  She gravely nodded her head just as Theo does.  Papa & I both laughed and I said “I knew by the look of your eyes that you were a good girl.”  She was real pretty, too.  Tomorrow about this time I shall see my pretty girl.  After that walk we came back and got our dinner which was the first good one we have had since we left home.  Now we are steaming out of Eastport Harbor.  We are just passing a curious striped light house red & white.  The ‘City of Portland’ whistled three times & the light house replied by ringing a bell “Ding - aling – aling --- Ding – ding – ding --- Ding – ding – ding” three times too.

           
Pages 76-83 of diary; sketch of "Island with signal station & outer light, St. John Harbor" appears on page 82

At last we have got through our vacation & are coming home as fast as we can to our boys & our little girl.  But it is a very pleasant trip still, & if this were only an excursion we would think it a very fine one.  There is even yet a chance that mamma may see a whale, & that would be worth all the rest of the journey to her.  After dinner the captain – his name is Capt. [Simon H.] Pike, & he lives at Lubec, Maine – asked mamma & me to come up & sit in the pilot house, & we went & sat there until supper time, looking out the windows at the scenery as we passed along the Maine coast.  We took the inside route, among the islands, of which there seemed to be hundreds, with treky thorns on which the surf broke finely, & usually barren or covered with a low pine growth.  We passed close to a little village, Jonesport, where the captain of one of the other boats of this line lives; & as he was home on vacation we whistled three time in salute, & with our glasses we could see all the captain’s family at his door waving to the boat.  There is a handle in the pilot house which the captain pulls & make the whistle sound; & so we went on saluting various things, for instance a lobster factory – not a place where they make lobsters, but where they put them up in cans.  Also we saluted a light-house, & the keeper came out & fired off a gun in response.  The pilot house is a very pleasant & comfortable place to sit away above everybody & everything, & we had a very good time.  The scenery among the islands was very beautiful.  These islands have very queer names.  There was Rogue’s Island, Ottoman, Two Brothers, The Ladle, & ever so many others.

               
Pages 84-92 of diary; sketch of "Two Brothers & The Ladle " appear on page 85

After supper we came out in time to see the sun set, after which we passed Mt. Desert, & the moon came out & made everything beautiful.  Now we have come in & are going to bed.

Saturday Sept 15th

I am painfully reminded this morning of the day two weeks ago when our voyage began or rather the day after when it continued for we are going along in a thick fog with our whistle blowing every few minutes to warn other vessels to keep out of our way.  The sea too has the same slimy, oily look it wore all that dreadful sea-sick Sunday.  The effect seems to be similar also – for before I left my room this morning I was conscious of some disagreeable sensations which did not wholly disappear until I had eaten my breakfast though I was not sick.  Other ladies were however as I distinctly heard just as I sat down & ordered my meal hoping to feel better by eating.  It is not raining however as it did that dreadful day for it looks brighter in the East & now & then the sun forces its way through the fog as if it were determined to shine in spite of all.  I do hope it will come out for I wanted particularly to see the coast we pass this morning.  Salisbury Beach.  Isles of Shoals, Marblehead Nook, & the rest of the places we know so well from the land.  The pilot promised me a whale too between Boone Island & Thatcher Island, & if there should be such a fog as this there would be no seeing one if he should come up & dance about the ship.  When we came out of the cabin papa said to Capt. Pike, the pilot – “Remember, Captain, you promised us some whales today.”  Capt. Pike is an old man & reminds me a little of Grandfather Parsons for who Da boy was named.  Without smiling at all he answered, “If you had been up just after daylight you would have seen two or three whales.  One of them was about 200 ft. long I should think.”  He tells great stories sometimes & I suspect there was no whale at all.  Just now when our whistle sounded we heard a horn answering out of the fog & pretty soon we passed very close to a large schooner.  We could not see it at all except that it looked like a schooner made of mush – just a ghost of a vessel.  The Captain invited us to go up in the Pilot House again this morning but there is a notice up there that visitors are requested to leave the Pilot House during a fog or while making a landing so I suppose they will not allow us there this morning.  There is another horn out of the fog but this time we can see nothing.  I really fear that it is growing thicker than ever.  If so we shall not go up the Harbor with such flying colors as we had when we went down that day.  I wonder if you will all be waving.  Now the passengers have been called to have their baggage examined by the custom house officers.  I only hope the dream I had last night will not come true.  I dreamed that Gramma’s present was broken & the officer made papa pay five dollars on it & forfeit it besides.  Ooh.  Was decidedly uncomfortable all around.  The sun is shining bright & warm & the fog is lifting & settling.  I am afraid we shall find hot weather on land.  Here comes papa & says he got his trunk chalked through all right so my mind is relieved.  Now we are all ready to see our dear little folks.

12:40  Off Nahant.  The weather here cleared off beautifully, though it is rather a tame sea I must own.  We can see the gilded Dome [of the Statehouse] & we feel that the vacation is about over.  We have just met two beautiful yachts.  I am now looking out for Uncle Will & Aunty.  There are vessels all around us & everything is bright & beautiful.  Horror of horrors: I see the “Carroll” coming out of the Harbor.  We are sitting up in the Pilot House & papa insists that the Captain shall stop the vessel & let us get out.  That makes him feel a little homesick.

Now here we are papa waving on the hurricane deck.  And now the house passes out of sight.  We are approaching the wharves.  Thus ends the vacation.

1    Carroll (American Steamship, 1864-1894).
Served as USS Proteus in 1864-1865

Carroll, a 1244-ton screw steamship, was built at New York in 1863-1864. While still under construction, she was purchased by the Navy for Civil War service and, upon completion in March 1864, placed in commission as USS Proteus. She served off Florida for the next year, generally patrolling in the shipping lanes used by blockade runners. While so-engaged, Proteus captured the steamers Jupiter (27 June 1864) and Ruby (27 February 1865), plus two sailing vessels. In early March 1865 she took part in an Army-Navy expedition to St. Marks, Florida, part of an unsuccessful effort to capture the city of Tallahassee. Later in the month Proteus steamed to New York, where she was decommissioned. Sold in July 1865, she was renamed Carroll and placed in commercial service. Following a long civilian career, the thirty-year-old steamship was scrapped in 1894. Source: Department of Navy, Naval Historical Center.

griffing@fnal.gov