| Title: | Beale, Joseph Sr to Beale, Margaret, 1852 |
|---|---|
| ID | 4468 |
| Collection | The Earth between them: Joseph Beale's letters home to Ireland from Victoria (1852-1853) [E.Beale] |
| File | beale/2 |
| Year | 1852 |
| Sender | Beale, Joseph Sr |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | emigrant |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Ship Sarah Sands, near Cape Town |
| Destination | Mountmellick, Co. Laois, Ireland |
| Recipient | Beale, Margaret |
| Recipient Gender | female |
| Relationship | husband-wife |
| Source | |
| Archive | |
| Doc. No. | |
| Date | |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | |
| Log | unknown |
| Word Count | 2270 |
| Genre | diary kept during voyage, account of passage |
| Note | |
| Transcript | Sarah Sands at Sea II mo. 4th 1852 [4 November 1852] 270 miles from Capetown My dearest Love, I wrote thee a long letter on our arrival at St. Vincent's on the 3rd of last mo: which after an hours waiting, I placed in the hands of the British Consul there, but to my disappointment, learned from him that there would not be a homeward bound steamer from thence before the first o£ this month, (and probably this will not be forwarded from Capetown before the 22nd inst). Jos'h Frs and I had arranged to take an exploring trip into the interior of the Island, but as I was so long detained, they went without me, so I soon returned on board. St. V. is a curious spot, the hills round very bold, with serrated summits, very diff't from anything of the kind I ever before saw. On landing the first objects diat struck the attention were negroes carrying baskets of coals on their heads from the vessels to the coal yards, females only are employed in this way, they seem a very degraded race. I remained on board next day, and the day following went ashore to swim in the tepid tide of this tropical climate. I never enjoyed a swim in the sea so much in my life. Afterwards I took a lonely walk thro' the streets of that miserable village. I enter'd several of their huts, and tho' I could not speak their language, they ail speak suff't Eng'h to make themselves understood. The poor creatures seemed all pleased at my notice of them. On coming out o[ one of their habitations I saw a aegroe girl running ab't in great glee, with a stick in her hand, I motioned to her to show me the stick and found she had two huge centipedes fasten'd on it, both alive. They were ab't 5 inches long each and as thick as a swans quill. They were most unpleasant companions in a house. I re I'd the stick and away she scam per'd in pursuit of someone else—they are a lighthearted race. I examined their beds and found them well suited to the excessive heat of this arid sandy country. Their beds were made from the large leaves which enclose the husks of I. [Indian] corn, made into a comfortable mattres, over this they spread a mat made from bulrushes, and cover themselves with clean sheet. Their wants are few in this climate, and these they supply with little exertion. They are far better off than the peasantry of freland, except the very few who are slaves. While passing thro' one of the back streets I saw a mat drying in the sun. I turned it over when a flock of cockroaches scam per'd oft'. I killed several, they are not like ours, they are of an oval shape about 2 inches in length, and 1 ¼ in width. We left St. Vincents at 3 am. 10/8th [Sunday 8 October]—10th 1st Day, Jos'h Frs. and I read the bible alone at 10 o'clock, in the even'g I read alone some of D. Wheeler's journal. I open'd on the part where he rec'd the acc't of his wife's death, it was as much as I could bear, separated as I am from thee my beloved, and likely to be for so long a time. This consideration causes me at times extreme anxiety, but I endeavour after patience, and am enabled at times to place my entire confidence in Him who does not willingly afflict, but who knows that we are but dust. Our prospect in the distant land before us, is unknown, and whether Sydney or Melbourne may be our resting place I cannot say. A sober, elderly man in the first cabin who resides at Sydney thinks it the better place, he says there will [be] no difficulty in our obtaining good situations there, that persons like us are always wanted, in fact those who are sober and steady and who have a knowledge of business. He says my plan of taking situations for a year, is the very best plan I could adopt, that there are several frds [Friends] at Sydney, and that their meeting house and ground is the prettiest spot he ever saw. A great number on board this ship are bound for "die diggings". I never in my life, even in the even'g of a country fair, in the drunken times in Ireland, ever heard such swearing and profane language as in this ship and as for gambling it never ceases from morn'g till 10 o'clock at night— many are cleaned out of their cash already. There appeared DO hope from remonstrating, so three of us formed a plan of correcting annoyances, tending to lessen the comforts of the passengers in our cabin. Our rules passed without a dissentient voice. We have the power by common consent to fine, or to use corporeal [sic] punishment, or to place in Coventry, i.e. not to speak to any one, nor hand him anything at table, if he refuses to obey the mandate of "the Tribune". I was chosen president, and have to deliver judgment. All our fines were duly paid and among others my two fellow judges were fined. They had to leave the bench and take their trial at the bar. Well, under our laws we fine for swearing, so that in our cabin, an oath is not now heard, and those who are fined are most anxious to find out "a case". The fore cabin are anxious to get tip a similar court, and when we leave the Cape I promised to assist them. The Captain told me he was delighted at the good order we keep those unruly persons in, and that he would be very glad [if] he could establish a similar court in the first cabin, but he wants firmness and shews a bad example by gambling with dice, cards, wagers and rallies. One of our passengers who left St. Vincent's in good health, died on the 25 of 10 mo. and his remains were committed "to the deep until the sea should give up its dead" (these are the words of the service at sea). It was a very solemn occasion. The poor young man came from St. John's, New Brunswick. He was a fine looking young man, remarkably quiet and well conducted. He died from neglect, two companions of his are on board, but they were both confined with dysentery, and this poor fellow hud to do everything for himself, or want. He called for one of his companions a short time before his death, and told him his end was approaching, his friend told him not to say so, he s'd he knew it was, gave him his directions about his little property and died a few hours afterwards. We have another young man ill near our cabin, the result of gross immorality, it was truly awful one night to bear his cries for hours, calling on the Almighty to relieve his pains, and to see him suffering such agony. The Dr. thinks his recovery doubtful, but brothers could not attend a brother with more kindness than he is attended by some young men in this cabin. We had a birth in our cabin last week. We found the weather at the equator very hot, particularly in our berths at night. I slept with a sheet only, and one night I had to change my shirt three times and at length to sleep without one, cover'd only with a sheet, even then the perspiration poured off my face and hands, however every morning I enjoyed a bath from the sailors. I did not suffer from the heat except by "prickly heat", a rash over the body like nettle rash, which very few escape in the warm latitudes. We now find the climate quite cool, and wear our warm clothing. The air is delightful, the sky clear and serene. On the whole we have every reason to feel thankful for all the blessings vouchsafed to us five [Joseph, the two boys and the two Kennedys], Everyone treats us with respect—even the offscourings of society on board would cheerfully do for me any kind turn in their power. A voyage at sea, if one had a few agreable associates, is a very pleasant time. I don't find it at all monotonous, and tho' old hard beef, cold, which has been out and home from California, with cold boil'd rice, is rough food, we manage to get thro', and the days appear to pass over very rapidly. Several young men have told me confidentially the history of their lives. I have many a tale to tell thee if we are favour'd to meet again. I should like to go home for thee, knowing from experience now, how to manage on shipboard. It would make a great difference to thee and my beloved children to have me with thee, but if Australian society be as bad as society on board this ship, it would be too great a risk to run, to leave the boys without a head. D. Kennedy has a careful eye over Francis, he needs it, but Joseph is a truly steady careful lad. Sir R. Stamford admired him very much, and said to me "your eldest son, Mr. B. is a very fine young man". Whenever I wake at night my first tho'ts are with thee. Sometimes I amuse myself picturing in my mind thy countenance, my dear E's [Elizabeth, his daughter by his first marriage] and all the other loved ones, [the children] Sarah, Marg't, poor Bill, Laura, Nannie and little Octavius. I can (as it were) look at each as if before me, except Octavius, and I cannot picture him exactly—then I go over my sister May and all her flock correctly (including poor William whose countenance I shall never forget) and then most of friends as they sit in meeting. My dear love is to all and every one of my old friends who may think it worth the acceptance, including Sally Simpson, also to [my former partner] S. Sheane and Bess—perhaps one day or other I may do some of them a kind turn—Oh how i long to hear from home! I hope thou wilt write weekly, as I shall to thee, if spared to land at Melbourne and that I feel a humble but strong confidence will be permitted. I have no anxiety at all on that subject, my anxiety is on thy acc't as I cannot be with thee when I might be of use and on Eliz'th acc't at present. It is very difficult to write here, I can only do so in my cabin standing near the porthole, while I write on a bed, with sailors getting out stores behind me, two Frenchmen chattering away at my right hand and occasionally a question asked of "Mr. B.". Thou must take the will for the deed, as I know thou I have often wondered at the very small number of birds to be seen from the coast of Ireland, to ab't 1200 miles of the Cape, not a living thing to be seen for many days save flying fish. About 1200 miles from the Cape we meet the Cape pigeon, a very handsome bird ab't the size of a woodquest, and an occasional Albatross. As we approach the Cape there may be six Albatros to be seen near us, soaring in every direction of the wind without moving (thou wouldst say) a feather. I regretted to see them fired at by our boisterous fellows, and occasionally one shot, or what is worse wounded and left to starve, but to remonstrate would be worse than useless. Our passage to Melbourne will be about 90 to 95 days. I expect the former will be ab't the mark. I have had several conversations with experienced persons, who have frequently crossed, either from Australia or from the Cape. They all agree that thou should not sail in a steamer, nor in a charter'd vessel unless charter'd by a first rate house, to run in conjunct'n with their own ships—on no acc't come out in any way but first class—and then all will be right, so far as human agency or prudence can ensure success. I intend to finish this letter at Cape Town, it is very difficult to write. I sh'd like to do so to Eliz'th but if [our eldest daughter] Sarah will copy all that is worth copying and send it to E. [then married] with my very dear love, it will do. Farewell until to-morrow. Distance from the Cape at noon this day 84 miles. The ship rolls very much while I write. I just hear a frenchman saying to his neighbours "de ship has got thoo much Cogniac". Cape Town at anchor 10/6 a.m. We arrived at this place at 8 last evening, so I have not time to give thee an acc't of our proceedings here. I conclude my dearest love, with the assurance of my fondest affection for thee first of all, and then for all my much loved children. Thy ever attached and faithful husband Joseph Beale Dan Kennedy will be obliged and thankful to thee to tell his wife and friends, that he and James are (like ourselves) in perfect health. There are but few on board conduct themselves like Dan or J;is. They are liked by everyone on board. |
