A  narrow  mattress  and  blanket  with  a  knapsack
for  a  pillow,  formed  a  passable  bed.  A  long
entry  between  the  rooms,  lighted  by  a  feeble
swinging  lamp,  was  filled  with  a  board  table,
around  which  the  thirty-two  second  cabin  pas-
sengers met  to  discuss  politics  and  salt  pork,
favorable  winds  and  hard  sea-biscuit.
We  lay  becalmed  opposite  Sheerness  the  whole
of  the  second  day.  At  dusk  a  sudden  squall
came  up.  which  drove  us  foaming  towards  the
North  Foreland.  When  I  went  on  deck  in  the
morning,  we  had  passed  Dover  and  Brighton.
and  the  Isle  of  Wight  was  rising  dim  ahead


460  VIEWS  A -FOOT.
of  us.  The  low  English  coast  on  our  right
was  bordered  by  long  reaches  of  dazzling
chalky  sand,  which  glittered  along  the  calm  blue
water.
Gliding  into  the  Bay  of  Portsmouth,  we  drop-
ped anchor  opposite  the  romantic  town  of  Rydo,
built  on  the  sloping  shore  of  the  Green  Isle  of
Wight.  Eight  or  nine  vessels  of  the  Experi-
mental Squadron  were  anchored  near  us,  and
over  the  houses  of  Portsmouth,  I  saw  the  masts
of  the  Victory— the  flag-ship  in  the  battle  of
Trafalgar,  on  board  of  which  Nelson  was  killed.
The  wind  was  not  strong  enough  to  permit  the
passage  of  the  Needles,  so  at  midnight  we  suc-
ceeded in  wearing  back  again  into  the  channel,
around  the  Isle  of  Wight.  A  head  wind  foivrd
us  to  tack  away  towards  the  shore  of  France.
We  were  twice  in  sight  of  the  rocky  coast  of  Brit-
tany, near  Cherbourg,  but  the  misty  promon-
tory of  Land's  End  was  our  last  glimpse  of  the
old  world.
