Diary of John Adams, volume 2

March 7. Saturday. JA March 7. Saturday. Adams, John
March 7. Saturday.

The same prosperous Wind, and the same beautifull Weather continue. We proceed in our Course at the Rate of about 200 Miles in 24 Hours. We have passed all the Dangers of the American Coast. Those of the Bay of Biscay, remain. God grant Us, an happy Passage through them all.

Yesterday, the Ship was all in an Uproar, with Laughter. The Boatswains Mate asked one of his superiour Officers, if they might have a Frolick.—The Answer was, Yes.—Jere. accordingly, with the old Sailors, proposed to build a Galley, and all the raw Hands to the Number of 20 or 30 were taken in, and suffered themselves to be tyed together, by their Legs. When all of a sudden, Jere. and his knowing ones, were found handing Bucketts of Water over the Sides and pouring them upon the poor Dupes, untill they were wet to the Skin.—The Behaviour of the Gullies,1 their Passions and Speeches and Actions, were 284 diverting enough.—So much for Jere's Fun. This Frolick, I suppose, according to the Sailors Reasoning, is to conjure up a Prize.

This Morning the Captain ordered all Hands upon Deck and took an account of the Number of Souls on board which amounted to 172. Then he ordered the Articles of War to be read to them—after which he ordered all Hands upon the Forecastle and then all Hands upon the Quarter deck, in order to try Experiments, for determining whether any difference was made in the Ships sailing, by the Weight of the Men being forward or abaft. Then all Hands were ordered to their Quarters to exercise them at the Guns. Mr. Barron2 gave the Words of Command and they spent an Hour perhaps in the Exercise, at which they seemed tolerably expert. Then the Captain ordered a Dance, upon the Main Deck, and all Hands, Negroes, Boys and Men were obliged to dance. After this the old Sailors set on Foot another Frolic, called the Miller, or the Mill. I will not spend Time to describe this odd Scaene: but it ended in a very high frolic, in which almost all the Men were powdered over, with Flour, and wet again to the Skin.—Whether these whimsical Diversions are indulged, in order to make the Men wash themselves, and shift their Cloaths, and to wash away Vermin I dont know. But there is not in them the least Ray of Elegance, very little Wit, and a humour of the coarsest Kind. It is not superiour to Negro and Indian Dances.

1.

Thus in MS. The meaning is clear, but there is no lexicographical authority for this word.

2.

William Barron, of a Virginia family that furnished a number of American naval officers, was first lieutenant of the Boston (Sheppard, Tucker , p. 280; VMHB , 1:66 [July 1893]). For his tragic fate, see entries of 14 and 27 March below.

1778. March 8. Sunday. JA 1778. March 8. Sunday. Adams, John
1778. March 8. Sunday.

The same Wind and Weather continues, and We go at 7 and 1/2 and 8 Knots. We are supposed to be past the Western Islands.

Mr. Barrons our first Lt. appears to me to be an excellent Officer— very dilligent, and attentive to his Duty—very thoughtfull and considerate about the Safety of the Ship, and about order, Oeconomy and Regularity, among the officers, and Men. He has great Experience at Sea. Has used the Trade to London, Lisbon, Affrica, West Indies, Southern States &c.

This Morning, the Captain ordered all Hands upon Quarter Deck to Prayers. The Captains Clerk, Mr. Wm. Cooper, had prepared a Composition of his own, which was a very decent, and comprehensive Prayer, which he delivered, in a grave and proper manner. The Of-285ficers and Men all attended, in clean Cloaths, and behaved very soberly.

The Weather has been cloudy all Day. Towards night it became rainy and windy, and now the Ship rolls, a little in the old Fashion.— We are about 2000 Miles from Boston.

The late Storm shewed the Beauty of Boileaus Description d'une Tempête.

Comme l'on voit les flots, soûlevez par l'orage, Fondre sur un Vaisseau qui s'oppose a leur rage, Le Vent avec fureur dans les voiles frêmit; La mer blanchit d'écume et l'air au loin gémit; Le matelot troublè, que son Art abandonne, Croit voir dans chaque flot la mort qui l'environne. Trad. de Longin.