24th December, 1809

        We found ourselves, on waking this morning early, anchored on the harbour of Falmouth, where we had arrived in the night, after a speedy and prosperous passage of twenty-one days form America, without a single storm to describe, or any extraordinary occurrence. This harbour is a small basin, surrounded with gentle hills. Looking round, we saw green fields, with cattle grazing, - a grove of trees, - some pines, and many green tufts like laurels. The town of Falmouth, - little, old, and ugly, - was seen on our left, and another assemblage of little old houses on our right; Pendennis Castle behind us, on a mound near the entrance of the harbour. The air was calm and mild, - the sky of a very pale blue, - a light mist hung over the landscape, - and the general impression was peaceful and agreeable: on the surface of the water twenty or thirty ships, mostly packets, and two or three Dutch vessels with licenses, - a strange sort of trade!

         Dinner announced, suspended our observations; it was served in our own apartments. We had three small dishes, dressed very inartificially (an English cook only boils and roasts), otherwise very good. The table linen and glass, and servants, remarkably neat, and in good order. At the dessert apples no bigger than walnuts, and without taste, which are said to be the best the country produces.

 December 25.--I have been this morning to the custom-house, with the other passengers, to get our passports. They obtained theirs without difficulty, but I must write to London for mine. Twenty-two years of absence have not expiated the original sin of being born in France: but I have no right to complain,--an Englishman would be worse off in France...