In the middle of the night I was awoken by Liam’s cries. I went over to his crib and found that he had been sick all over his bedding. This was strange as he seemed to be enjoying the ship’s motion until now and had eaten well that evening. I called the night steward and had new bedding brought for Liam, but he vomited again and again. I fed him boiled sugar water from a spoon but he wasn’t able to keep it down. I began to feel frightened. This was more than simple seasickness. I suspected something in the pureed food had upset his delicate digestive system, or, worse still, had poisoned him. Of course all this commotion awoke Miss Pinkerton. I apologized but she was touchingly concerned and asked if there was anything she could do. Really there was nothing, but sleep was impossible with a child screaming and vomiting nearby.

In the morning he fell into exhausted slumber and I sent my own soiled nightclothes to be laundered. When he awoke he was listless as he sucked at the breast, but then promptly vomited again. I had the steward summon the ship’s doctor. He came, examined Liam, and said it could be food poisoning or a particularly virulent stomach grippe that sometimes went around confined quarters like ships at sea. Either way there was nothing to be done except to try to keep some liquids down him, and maybe give him a little tincture of opium to help him sleep. I declined the latter and held him in my arms, offering the breast whenever he awoke. He had never been sick before in his life and it terrified me to see my normally lively child lying there, his skin clammy to the touch and barely responsive. Even his cry had become weak, like a kitten’s.

I consoled myself with the knowledge that we would be landing in France the next day. But then Miss Pinkerton came down to the cabin to report that there was stormy weather ahead and we would not make Le Havre on Friday, as scheduled, but a day late. My spirits fell at such news. A sick son and now a storm ahead. I didn’t leave the cabin but I could tell immediately when we sailed into the storm. The ship creaked and groaned, and there was even the occasional deep resounding thump as she slapped against an extra large wave or fell into the trough behind it. It was hard to keep my balance when I stood up with Liam in my arms. Miss Pinkerton returned to report that half the passengers were now seasick, the crew was working busily to secure anything not bolted down and to swab floors. Not a pleasant atmosphere, she said with her typical understatement.