were to sail on May i, but, in the meantime, there were three tedious 

 months to get through, doubly tedious because I wasn't allowed to do 

 much reading. I was expected to ride every day and was glad to do so, 

 though the muddy roads took most of the pleasure out of riding. 



The spring of 1875 was the most backward within my recollection of 

 this part of the world. Even yet, I believe, March and April of that 

 year, taken together, are the coldest since American weather records 

 have been kept. On Saturday, April 24, just a week before we sailed, 

 my Mother and I went to West Point to say good-bye to my brother 

 Lenox, whose third year as a cadet was nearing its end. On our way 

 back to New York it began to snow and so much fell as to delay our 

 train greatly and we arrived in Hoboken, where we were to spend Sun- 

 day, so late that no means of conveyance was to be found and we had 

 to wade a mile, or more, through drifts up to our knees. 



At last, the long-awaited May i arrived, but there wasn't yet a hint 

 of spring and we put out into a stormy sea that gave me the worst 

 Atlantic passage I have ever had. Our ship was the California, of the 

 Anchor Line, sailing to Glasgow. In comparison with modern liners, 

 the flush-decked steamers of those days were most uncomfortable in 

 fine weather and floating hells in a storm, though they possessed the all- 

 important quality of being excellent sea-boats. When we had secured 

 our passage, my Grandfather inquired with great interest about the 

 tonnage of the steamer and, when I told him that she was of 3,000 tons, 

 he was much impressed with her size, which was a little more than 

 one-twentieth of that of the Leviathan. He said: "When I went over 

 in '27, it was in a ship of 500 tons." 



The California was as good as any steamer of her time, though a few 

 were larger. The superstructures which rose above the upper, or spar 

 deck, were deck houses such as the companionways and wheel house; 

 otherwise, the deck was uninterrupted and one could walk from bow to 

 stern. The forward part of the first-class companionway was a small 

 smoking room into which not more than ten men could crowd. All 

 the staterooms were down in the hull, as was also the dining saloon. 

 In many ships of that time the saloon had cabins on each side of it, 

 so that, when eating a meal, one could enjoy the full benefit of seasick 

 passengers. The California was not so bad as that, her saloon occupy- 

 ing the whole breadth of the hull, but that didn't make things very 

 much better. Light and ventilation came from low skylights, which 

 had to be kept closed in heavy weather, even on the leeward side, and, 

 after being hermetically sealed for a week, the air in that saloon was 



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