The following morning, the haze having cleared off, we could again see the Jersey shore. The sea in every direction was now darkened with millions of black gulls, wild ducks, and other aquatic birds; we shot many of these from the ship’s deck, but were, much to our mortification, obliged to see them drift away, the pilot, seconded by our austere captain, strenuously objecting to a boat being lowered; this was very discouraging, as such a change in our diet would, after a rather prolonged voyage, have been acceptable.
A favourable breeze soon carried our good ship to the quarantine ground, where we dropped anchor, in no little anxiety lest we should be detained. The medical officers from the college, or rather sanatory establishment, on shore, almost immediately came on board. All hands were mustered on deck, and ranged like soldiers on parade ground by these important functionaries, who, I may remark by the way, appeared like our pilot to be possessed of considerable notions of power and authority. After taking a rather cursory inspection they left the vessel, and we, to our great joy (a case of small pox having occurred during the passage), were allowed to proceed towards New York, which we did under easy sail, the breeze rendering a steam-tug unnecessary.
The scenery as we passed up the river was calculated to give a good impression of the country, the zest being, however, without doubt, greatly heightened by the monotonous dreariness of a tempestuous voyage. The highlands and valleys, as we sailed up, had a verdant woody appearance, and were interspersed with rural and chateau scenery; herds of cattle remarkable for length of horn, and snow-white sheep, were grazing placidly in the lowlands. The country, as far as I could judge, seemed in a high state of culture, and the farms, to use an expression of the celebrated Washington Irving’s, when describing, I think, a farm-yard view in England, appeared “redolent of pigs, poultry, and sundry other good things appertaining to rural life.”