Lamy of Santa Fe Read Online Free PDF Page B

ship.
    The captain now oversaw the boarding of his complement of passengers—the ship would be full—and at nine o’clock, as the deck-hands sang their capstan song under a fine sky, while a crowd watched from the quayside, and a blessing was given from the pier, the voyage began. The Sylvie de Grasse made her way down bay, past the great stone fortress, moving so slowly (the wind was set against her) that a steam tug was summoned to help her out of the narrow harbor entrance. Presently the wind changed, the tug cast off, and the wooden ship leaned and made for the open sea under her own sail, though still so slowly that not until night was falling did the voyagers lose sight of land “and then,” said one, as distance and darkness engulfed France, “we began to get acquainted with the other passengers.”
    There were about sixty, mostly Protestants, in that part of the ship where the bishop’s party were cabined. They included young men and women returning to the United States after studying in Paris, and solid businessmen emigrating to establish themselves in America. In the steerage were emigrant Germans—Catholic, Protestant, Jewish. They were all crowded into one open space separated from the crew’s quarters by a partition. There they slept, cooked, passed the time. Their fare—150 francs—did not include food. They brought their own. The ship provided only wood and water. The air was so foul in the steerage that a visitor was forced away in a hurry—though he noted that all the Germans seemed healthy enough.
    Comforts were greater for Purcell and his people. The captain seated them at his own table, to honor their calling and to spare them thecompany of ordinary passengers, most of whom appeared to be wanting in manners. The captain’s guests had “everything of the best which one might find at a Parisian hotel”—fresh mutton, fowl, imported wines, oranges in abundance, bread baked fresh daily, milk, butter; and potatoes with every meal, a serving which the missioners enjoyed most of all. The chef was a Negro, “very clever at his profession.” His supplies included enough fresh fruit and vegetables for the first eight days of the voyage, which was expected to take four or five weeks. Below decks, in addition to storerooms for provisions, were pens for sheep and cows.
    The Sylvie de Grasse presented unexpected style. Mahogany panelling, with pilasters whose bases and capitals were finished in gold leaf, lined the dining saloon, the ladies’ saloon, and the sleeping cabins. The staterooms were only six feet square, and though ordinarily they accommodated two passengers, the missioners were assigned six to a room, in three levels of two bunks each. With Lamy, Machebeuf, and their Auvergnat companions, a Bavarian Franciscan was quartered. The stateroom looked like a “fruitstand with its many shelves.” If she was typical of the ships of her time, she was under two hundred feet in length, and of about a thousand tons gross weight—a three-masted, full-rigged veteran of the North Atlantic run.
    Several of the party felt the sea at first and spent their days in their bunks. Lamy was among them—his seasickness lasted three weeks. Another missioner was resigned to die until Machebeuf took him up on deck, where he rapidly recovered. The marvel of the voyage was old Bishop Flaget, who kept everyone in spirits with his nimble gaiety and his edifying example of long daily devotions. He was always the first one every morning to say his orisons in the little deckhouse. Even when a heavy timber rolled loose across the deck and struck the old man in the leg he dismissed the pain with a word. Machebeuf, too, was in danger one day while studying English on deck—Lamy and the rest also worked on the new language they would need—when a piece of rigging broke aloft, a heavy iron-bound block fell nearby and a thick rope, falling forty