Journal published 98 years later.

The 1912 journal.

Below is a portrait of my Grandfather, Raphael Johnson Shortlidge, when he was in his late twenties, in the first to second decade of the last century. It was at about this age that he was fortunate to take his second trip to Europe. On this trip he kept a journal which years ago I transcribed to a computer with the intention of offering a legible copy for all his descendants. Since then, with the advent of the internet, I decided to make the journal public in the form of this blog. Starting June 18th I intend to post the journal daily with entries corresponding to the date. I will also post a copy of the original page(s) of his writing and photographs from the trip. I will add a link to a Google My Maps which traces the trip. My Maps is a spoiler since I don't see an easy way to add to the route day by day without a lot of daily work. I think this will give a good idea of the journal; easy printed reading with the beauty of the handwritten pages, plus a route to follow, and links to help clarify certain parts. I also hope that my efforts will elicit comments that help clarify some elements of the journal that are difficult to read or do not make sense. Please pass on this blog to anyone you can think of who may be interested and might have insights into its contents. My hope is that in 2012 I might try to retrace my grandfather's journey with my wife, and sons. With this public forum we might get a sense of what such a trip might entail.

Raphael Shortlidge, around 1912.

R. J. Shortlidge Wallingford, Conn.

R. J. Shortlidge

Wallingford, Conn.

A journal written out during odd moments of a memorable trip.

A journal written out during odd moments of a memorable trip. at the request of my dear Aunt Catharine, and submitted to her in the doubtful hope that she will be able to decipher it.

Tuesday, June 18th

 (1)Tuesday, June 18th
    At three o'clock we met, our party of six, Mr. Strawbridge, host, genial and kindly and apparently ready at every turn to make all our days memorable with fine pleasure; his two sons, Clayton - once a boy in my tent "Sylvester" at Marienfeld, and Freddie - keen eyed for every impromptu occasion to busy himself; a nephew, Charles Brown-frank and happy always; DS Burgess, friend of Haverford days, alert and practical; and I, delighted to have the rare fortune to make the sixth in such an ideal "stag" party.
    Together we watched preparations to depart, and when "all ashore" went round, we knew where our staterooms were, had opened our baggage, and generally discovered our way over the "Lusitania"

Pilot leaving ship.

Off to the pilot ship.

 Many were the farewells around (2) us.  We generously accepted the wavings of the hundreds on the piers as meant for us.  Frank B. had come to the docks with me, but would not come aboard.
    Busy tugs fretted at us fore and aft.  Clear across the harbor we seemed to lie after leaving the slip.  Then more tugs nosed our prow down stream, and in twenty minutes our monster ship was under way for Europe.
    The Battery, Liberty, and all the familiar lines of the harbor ran past us.  A big ship above quarantine flew her yellow flag, and we could but sympathize with the hundreds of steerage and crew waiting to be put ashore.
    Soon, the Pilot ship was neared.  All to port to see the Pilot go. A fat gentleman slid down a rope ladder, and an unkind wave nearly upset him as he put foot in the waiting boat.  Then went (3) mail bags, and no more were we to have communication with land – by person.

New York dropped over the horizon, stars came out brightly, we walked and became acquainted wondering at lights we came to, and soon were seeking sleep in soft pneumatic mattresses.  Every time you wink an eye, you undulate along your whole length.  If you like undulation, the taller the better.

Freddie Stawbridge, D.S. Burgess, Mr. Strawbridge, Charles Brown, Clayton Strawbridge. on the Lusitania, 1912.

Wednesday, June 19th

June 19th
    Reading, walking, excitement at quoits and shuffle board, then the calm of a deck chair and warm rugs - and meals. Clayton and Charles took Haverford exams.  I began "Kim".  A delightful renegade he is, too. Occasionally we wrote. Then stared at the passing thousands – for thousands they seemed, - new faces at every turn.  Sothern and Marlowe kept to the boat deck.(4) 

The sea was placid.  Then came a 3 hr. stop.  Mistress "Lucy" had to have a shaft reset. (On reaching Eng. we found she had lost a propeller.)  Only part of our power was on, so we ran but 500 m a day, - wherefore the vibrations and plungings of the L. under speed, were unknown to us.

D.S.Burgess, Mr. Strawbridge, Freddie, Charles Brown, Clayton.  Lusitania, 1912

Thursday, June 20th

June 20th
    Similar hours ran on.  In the evening a dance, - with fun acquaintances, one, miss U. the really attractive being on board.  We skipped- our party- to the bow and to the stern.  At night, D.S.B. and I watched the stars. The new moon, too, silvered our wake, till she sank at the far corner of the horizon, slipping gracefully into the water with never a sputter.

Friday, June 21st

June 21st
    Several ships were seen. Even under but part power, we gave them all the slip. To be sure, we (5) didn't out- Lusitania the Mauritania.  The Nordland (?)held on for long hours.
    Now and then I would wonder how it went at school.  Poor fellow masters, - no cool of the sea for them.

Saturday, June 22nd

June 22nd
    Wireless messages - Harvard over Yale - and Roosevelt's doings at Chicago - interested us.
    I just finished "Kim", and hold fast to his friendship, with the Lama struggling away from the chain of things.  "Concert"(?)!!

Clayton, Steward, Freddie, Mr. Strawbridge, D.S. Burgess, Raphael Johnson Shortlidge, Lusitania, 1912.

Sunday, June 23rd

June 23rd
    Skies overcast. Little sea, as always. A slow swell from across the unknown rolled us somewhat.  "Church" - a pleasant service. Reading- My Demon Motor Boat. with so much laughter that my deck companions threatened vengeance. Much writing.

Monday, June 24th

(6) June 24th
    Monday the weather changed to a brisk southerly breeze.  White caps topped every crested wave, and the gusts whipped spray all over our faces.  Living!  Soon clouds.  A promenade with S, to the stern, to the prow. Nothing like a choppy sea, increasing to rough weather every minute. No voyage should be complete with out it. Then at night, another walk in wind, rain, and spray, and down for the last night aboard ship.

Clearly not the 24th, Lusitania, 1912.

Tuesday, June 25th

Fishguard harbor.

Fishguard harbor.

Lusitania, 1912.

Lusitania from launch.

St. David?

Mr. Strawbridge, Freddie, Clayton, on the St. David? The raincoats say so.

Irish Sea.

June 25th
Land! Breakfast was just over when we sighted the green headlands sheltering Fishguard Harbor. After an hour of interesting procedure with baggage and mail, we were put on the port lighter, and run swiftly to the station side. Then baggage - but little fuss, and we were ready for the afternoon (7) boat to Rosslare. While waiting, we wandered over Fishguard. A steep climb took us to the top of the high headland overlooking the bay. A beautiful spot. A hasty retreat to avoid a shower was successful. Then we put out for lunch. At 2:30 we took ship for Ireland, on the St. David, a beautiful seaworthy boat. And well for us. For the winds of one night continued to disturb the channel, and breakers and rough going were to be had a plenty. For a time all of us dared the forward decks; but soon the waves and spray drove us to shelter back of the center of the ship, - stacks and deck horns serving as shelter. D.S.B. + C.B. just escaped sickness. C.S. also queasy. The other three of us had the time of our lives. A magnificent sight.

page (7a) and Jill's notes.

Train in Rosslare.

Freddie, Mr. Strawbridge, Charles Brown, D.S. Burgess, Queen Beb**taria??, Rosslare.

At Rosslare we shipped baggage to Dublin. We boarded the train for (8) a five hour journey, - lunchless. Nothing to be had till 8:30. How famished we were! But tea put aboard for us brought renewed energy.([7a]Mr. S. declared that the "tea was the most miserable meal he ever experienced, but was willing to eat it in absolute hunger!)

Ireland was beautiful. We followed the full brimmed wex through Co. Wexford. The fields looked rich, in their dense grass, - and we wondered how many people could be well provided for, where seemingly so much was meagerly used. In the distant west and north we caught outlines of high hills. Then at Arklow we entered the valley of the Ovoka, - a richly picturesque stream, bounded by steep wooded banks, with ravines and pools at intervals, - resembling the beauties of many of the best scenes of New Hampshire, familiar to walks. Then out along the sea we ran again with the highlands of Wicklow to the (9) west. Truly a glorious ride, with all its variety of landscape,-valleys, hills, + sea.

Dublin and a wide bed! The luxury of that after bunks! But I fell asleep while rejoicing, - and then another day.

Wednesday, June 26th

Trinity College, Dublin, 1912.

June 26th
We awoke to a day of intermittent showers, kind to us, however, in holding off as soon as we were ready to leave cover. Dublin University attracted us first, - especially the old dining hall, with ancient oak wainscoating stained with flying food of the past - Swift's sculpture in one corner; and the Library, with ancient manuscripts, most important among them the Book of Kells, an illuminated parchment book, with close colored work as fine as silk lace.  In the enclosure as we entered,- to the (10) right, we were shown the windows marking the room once occupied by Goldsmith, whose statue stands in front of the university entrance- with Burke.

In the afternoon we visited the Cathedral of St. Patrick, Ireland's national church. It does not match the English cathedrals, either in grandeur or beauty or variety. The graves Swift and of "Stella" are near the low entrance way, - a piece of masonry dating back t 1190. We were struck by the bitter poverty, - or rather, the apparent degradation, of the people in, the poorer districts. Moral and mental and physical debauchery were too easily to be seen.

Jaunting cars, Mr. Strawbridge, groom, Freddie, groom, Clayton, Charles Brown, D.S. Burgess, Dublin, 1912

Mr. S. had urgent demands from his brother, to visit the stables of Mr. Daly, so we all took jaunting cars and drove out to the edge of the city.  Here we saw about a dozen beautiful hunters. From this point on Liffey water we drove through the very beautiful (11) natural scenery of Phoenix Park, to return to the Shelbourne for a very sumptuous dinner.

Thursday, June 27th

June 27th
    Rain, - all day rain. From Dublin we passed along the sea toward Belfast, enjoying ourselves in our own compartment. The one interest, apart from the rich looking country - still very little tilled, - was Drogheda, of Cromwell's time.  Apparently Ireland has few battle fields,-overlooking, of course, the personal encounters that do not interest the historian. For instance, in the evening at Portrush, one gray headed Irishman was most quarrelsomely ungentlemanlike in asserting his claim to a pool table over an American. A funny episode.
In Belfast we drove between stations, just making connections.  We tried to get lunch on the train, but every time one of our six (12) put his head into the restaurant compartment, where there were but two vacant places, the waiter put us off, as if he were in panic at sight of so many.  Finally we went back to our compartment, fortified with fruit, sandwiches, and chocolate that we plundered for a few pennies from a boy vender Only soon to be followed by the aforesaid waiter urging us now to return to his kind mercies, - but too late.
    At Portrush we were in a quiet sea- side resort, at the very north of Ireland. Rocky headlands ran out to sea, and though the rain was driven at us by a brisk wind, three of us could not forego a walk across the rocks. The town is popular for golfers. In the hotel were numerous excursionists and "trippers", en route, as were we, to the Giant's Causeway, - many Americans.

Friday, June 28th

Dunluce Castle.

(13)June 28th
    The rain fell off while we ate a hurried breakfast. Then, under breaking clouds, we took the dinky engine train to the Giant's Causeway. We ran close to broken headlands, across rabbit infested moorlands, and along high cliffs looking down upon sand beach or rocks. Everywhere the sea had worn deeply into the soft rock, with here a cave, there an arch, and always a most broken shore. We passed Dunluce castle, standing on a peninsular headland, with wonderful natural defense. The ruins are well covered with softening moss and ivy, all reminiscent of the untold strife of a past age.  Further along the coast we came to a good manly profile carved by the wash of the waves and the beat of the storms. Then an elephant. Also, a lion's head, a monkey, a crouched lion, an old woman,a bear, and a highland cap, were (14) freakish whims discovered here and there.
    We took boat, and first visited some caverns, where the ocean hid short arms of water. One was 250 ft. back into the cliffs, and the highest was 85 ft. from the top of the arch to the bottom of the water. Low tide favored us.  We next returned along our course, watching sky, sea, headlands, etc., with pigeons, gulls, and cormorants flying about us. We rowed around a point and came upon the Causeway! That is the first natural wonder that geography taught me, and along with mammoth Cave, has always held my desire to behold it. So both desires have been satisfied.
    Before landing upon these strange and wonderfully formed pillars and blocks, we rowed past a grand amphitheatre, to come upon a smaller amphitheatre, less magnificent (15) but more varied. The larger one, however, had a sweep of green grown steps and rocky formations that make it the finer.
    Then the Causeway. We wandered around these unique formations, sometimes following the guide as he described his pet spots, - the key stone, a perfect octagon; the lady's fan, an outline make by water held by sunken pillars; the wishing seat, one regular stone backed be three others like a heavy chair; the giants well, with a bottom of regular hexagons, etc. Most of the prisms were of five or seven sides, some of the tops being concave, some convex. Surely nature had a freakish fancy upon her when in a mood to throw these pillars into compact positions, - with even cracks between them.

Clayton, Freddie, D.S. Burgess, Mr. Strawbridge, Charles Brown, Mick Jagger, Giant's Causeway, 1912.

Clayton, D.S. Burgess, Mr. Strawbridge, Freddie, Charles Brown, Giant's Causeway, 1912

    We left the Causeway just as a sprinkle started.  The other Americans, women and a Mr. Dixon from Phila. leading them, fell victims to a heavy downpour. Such, too, would have been our luck, (16) had we delayed our start and taken the wagonette suggested by the over-eager-to-make-a-shilling porter.
    My Irish bog-oak cane, purchased at the causeway, was quite an object of envy among the members of the party.
    After lunch, we took the train back to Portrush. A large group of folk of Erin walked over the hills toward the station, preceded by a cart loaded with all sorts of luggage, - so we witnessed the breaking of home ties as a family set out for America.
    The journey from Portrush to Larne was a pleasant one, especially the latter part of it, leading through a broad sweeping valley not unlike our own Chester valley. Then boat to Stranraer. A smooth crossing made it a pleasant two hour trip.  The first glimpse of the Scotch headlands was a delight to all of us. This country of romance appealed to the imagination of all of us. (17)
    At Stranraer we stayed in the old King's Arms Hotel,- a quaint place. The only point of interest in the town was the old dungeon tower of the ancient castle of the place, - now all built around by stone houses, the dungeons serving as store houses for a "spirit shop"