A TRANSPORT VOYAGE
TO
THE MAURITIUS
AND BACK;
TOUCHING AT THE CAPE OP GOOD HOPE AND ST. HELENA.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "PADDIANA;" "A HOT-WATER CURE/' ETC.
LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1851.
PBIKTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET.
PREFACE.
THIS is a book of gossip. Therefore let the geo- grapher, the man of statistics, the emigrant, and the useful knowledge seeker, avoid it. It gives neither exports nor imports — holds out no finger- posts to commerce — and has no hints for the loca- tion of unemployed labourers or distressed needle- women. Dates and names, even, are suppressed or altered — for a reason probably obvious enough.
It is an old journal revised, though little altered ; and published, the author trusts, for the entertain- ment of such as may look for amusement rather than instruction.
Junior United Service Club.
1057628
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
EMBARKATION — Choice of Berths— The Happy Family stowed away — Abandoned Wives and Sweethearts — Other dear Friends — Hint from the Jackass Frigate — One too many — The Sea — Porto Santo — The Desertas — Madeira — Fnn- chal: wine; inhabitants; scenery — Atrabilious Complexions
— St. Antonio — St. Vincent — A little Stranger — Thames Water — The Variables — A Calm — The Temper Latitudes
— Catching a Booby — Deep-Sea Sounding — A Squall — Putting the Ducks in a clean Shirt — The Chickens' Teeth Page 1
CHAPTER II.
The Line — Theatre afloat — Heroine hands the Main-royal — The Porpoise — Stormy Petrel — Flying Fish — Drifting towards Patagonia — A Glance at Pigafetta and Harris — Their Pictures of a Patagon — Medical Treatment — Change of Stars — Magellan Clouds — Chastening Influence of Life at Sea — A Gale — Birds — The Flying Dutchman — Ar- rive at the Mauritius ... .43
vi CONTENTS.
CHAPTER III.
Port Louis — Scenery — Pieter Bot — Harbour — The Ship- seer — Pamplemousses — Monsieur Jolly — Day in the Coun- try — The Governor and his Hat — The Adjutant-General ; Anecdotes ; his Treatment of Fever — French and English Society — Law of Divorce — The Brown Boys of Monsieur Philippon Page 99
CHAPTER IV.
Palanquins — Dr. MacMorough — Black Races : Madagascar, Mozambique, and Indian — King Radama ; his Son appren- ticed to Jolly — Runaway Slaves — The Iron Collar — Mahe'- bourg — Old Dutch Settlement — Climate — Fruits — Habitans — The Red Cow — Lizards— Land Crabs — White Ants — Scorpions — The Cockroach a Wet-nurse — Snakes — Leaf Fly — Birds — Shells ; fishing for — Grand River S.E. — Slaves — Madame de ; Treatment of her Pigs . . 129
CHAPTER V.
Prepare to return to England — Return by Water to Port Louis
— Monsieur Peltier and La Brave Marguerite — At Port Louis
— The Bazaar — Jolly's " Bogy " — The Camp — Choosing a Ship — An errant Yanee — The " City of Bordeaux "— Her Passengers and Cargo — Quit the Island — Its Productions — Bourbon — Madagascar — A Slaver — A Whaler — Life at the Crozets — Their Cosmetic Climate — Zoological Society
— Algoa Bay — Mrs. Hunt's —The Hottentots — Country — Inhabitants — Settlers — Missionaries 168
CONTENTS. vii
CHAPTER VI.
Name of Algoa Bay — A Party of Kaffirs — Comparative Prac- tice of the Assagai and Rifle — Ben the Indispensable — Washing the Hottentots — The Shaving Cherub — Settlers — Game — Leave the Bay — The Delagoa Skipper — Mossel Bay — A Day at the Deer — A Boer — Two Female Boers — A Party at the Store — My first Offer — Again at Sea . Page 20 1
CHAPTER VII.
Arrival in Table Bay — The Mountains — Mrs. Strnmmbumm — Morrison's Boarding-house — Ascent of Table Mountain — Baboons — Buggins Sahib and his Mahomedans — Odd Names
— Tom Holder ; History of his Cocked Hats — American Wit — Visit to Constantia — The Clock — The Wines
— " Posterial Luxuriance " — Wild Animals — The Aard- vark — Anecdotes of the Lion — The Cape Horse — Mode of Hunting Deer — The British Soldier 230
CHAPTER VIII.
New Names of Places — - Advertisements — English and Dutch — Agitators — Canals — Climate — Fruits — Take a Passage Home — Stock and Passengers — St, Helena — Ascension — The Grassy Sea — Cowes Boatmen — Land at Dover — Caution against volunteering to bring Home Parcels .... 280
A TRANSPORT VOYAGE,
CHAPTER I.
Embarkation — Choice of Berths — The Happy Family stowed away — Abandoned Wives and Sweethearts — Other dear Friends — Hint from the ' Jackass' Frigate — One too many — Tne Sea — Porto Santo — The Desertas — Madeira — Fnn- chal : wine ; inhabitants ; scenery — Atrabilious Complexions
— St. Antonio-— St. Vincent — A little Stranger — Thames Water — The Variables — A Calm — The Temper Latitudes
— Catching a Booby — Deep-Sea Sounding — A Squall — Putting the Ducks in a clean Shirt — The Chickens' Teeth.
JUNE 6th. — Embarked on board the barque
340 tons, in Cork Harbour, opposite the town of Cove. The vessel extremely light, and high out of water. Sinks about two inches, I think, with the weight of 195 men in heavy marching order, with their Government allowance of eight women to every hundred men, six officers, two wives of ditto, about a score of children, stock, baggage, &c. &c.
2 EMBARKATION. CHAP. I.
A scene of no little confusion on the decks : hampers of wine, bread, beer, and groceries ; sheep, pigs, goats, fowls, ducks, turkeys ; hills of chests and boxes ; and 195 men, staggering under a load of pipe-clay, upon the " uneasy footing of the hatches."
The caterer is at his wit's end where to place his stock so as to be come-at-able easiest. Embar- rassed, above all, by his volatile drinks : where to put his pop, so that it shall not pop ; to bury his ale and porter in some cool recess, whence it may only come " up" at his own bidding ; and to find a place where his wine will be least liable to mulling by the tropical sun.
After the 195 have been duly relieved of their pipe-clay, told off to their berths, their arms and accoutrements stowed away, and themselves ar- rayed in white smockfrocks, a strong desire to establish a home begins to manifest itself amongst the officers. Being junior of that grade, I have at least the satisfaction of a certainty — that of getting the worst berth in the ship. The Doctor is the next above me, so we are chums in the cabin rejected by the others. It is a box, as nearly as may be, six
CHAP. I. CHOICE OF BERTHS. 3
feet square, having two bed-places, one above the other, and a small washing-stand in one corner.
The Doctor is an experienced voyager ; for, though young in rank, he is by no means in the bloom of early youth, and, being on the staff, his vocation seems to be the perpetually accompanying troops to all parts of the world, and being kept, while at home, with others of his calling, in some place answering to a stew or tank— as they keep the carp next for duty — where they can be laid hands upon at once, and forwarded either to the ice or the stew- pan, as occasion may require.
The Doctor pondered long and anxiously before he decided upon which hutch was to receive his person. He did this for several reasons. It gra- tified his importance ; and he was a little man of great importance — never moved without a certain air and flourish ; and out of this latter quality arose an extra difficulty in his case. The upper berth was undoubtedly the best, as having the advantage of a scuttle about a foot in diameter, through which a mouthful of fresh air might be admitted unpolluted by the miscellaneous smells of the steerage. But then, again, the berth is narrower, and some sacri-
B2
THE DOCTOR'S DECISION. CHAP. I.
fice of dignity is involved in the climbing up and down in a state approaching to nudity— to say nothing of the chance of being quoited out bodily when the ship rolled.
The Doctor, I say, pondered anxiously on this ; but being slightly asthmatic, he ultimately threw his dignity overboard and decided for the scuttle. It was then stipulated that each should keep his articles of the toilette suspended by a nail in his separate havresack, and that one bag or port- manteau for each was to be admitted into the cabin ; that no chair, table, or other inconvenience, was on any pretence to be admitted ; even the door was to be unshipped and handed over to the Cap- tain ; and the floor to be carefully scrubbed once a-day with salt water, and once a- week with fresh, should the supply admit of it.
1th. — Getting into something ship-shape. The sheep and goats in the longboat on deck ; the pigs in a sty contrived under it ; tlie poultry packed away in the coops, though so closely that those who went in headforemost are obliged to be assisted in turning their heads to the front. An amazing preponderance of cocks, as was but too
CHAP. I. PARTING SCENE. 5
apparent at three o'clock in the morning. An order given to reverse Her Majesty's Regulations, • and reduce the allowance of cocks to eight per cent, on the whole. An eye to the ornamental has also been had : three wreaths of cabbages, tastefully varied with pumpkins, hang over the stern.
An attempt at insurrection on the part of the bum-boat women at being turned out of the ship. Suspicions were excited by their varying shape, coming on board stout, and returning comparatively slender. Investigation being made, a complete bustle of bladders of spirits was discovered on the person of one of them.
Soldiers' wives — the unfortunate rejected — the married without leave — and those who had loved " not wisely " — are ordered to keep at two boats' length from the ship. Hence arise scenes of ludi- crous pathos. Poor Biddy in the fulness of her heart must speak. Ten, nay twelve, years must pass before they meet again — if ever ! The voyage out for her is an impossibility. Now there are twenty Biddys speaking at once. The little con- fidences, never intended to reach above a whisper, are, when telegraphing fails, to be roared, in all the
6 CASTLE-BUILDING. CHAP. I.
confusion of cross readings, and in defiance of winds and waves, at a distance of twenty yards. Then the bystander becomes aware upon what slender foundations it is possible to build up hopes. The probabilities of loans being effected upon no security — the wild chance of gifts — the realizing of any- thing approaching to the real value of their miscel- laneous possessions. Property in all its varieties is mysteriously touched upon. Cash, under its figu- rative denominations of tin, pewter, rags, or flimsies, is referred, with many a wily turn and double, to old teapots, stocking-feet, or the thatch ; and the probable destination of wearing apparel but too frequently indicated by the upward pointing of the eloquent finger. The probability of deaths is de- bated, of sudden affluence by any means, even the remote contingency of Uncle Barney cutting up fat — all having reference to the dim prospect of " coming out " at some future time. Fortunately it is, in some sort, the privilege of education to confer a sense of the ludicrous, and there are few to jeer at these " simple annals of the poor."
" You '11 be sure to write when you get there," is spoken with as much simplicity as if it were an
CHAP. I. MESS ARRANGEMENTS. 7
affair of the twopenny post, when the " directly " is at the least four or five months' distance, and pro- bably a twelvemonth will elapse before the long- expected letter "comes hopping you are well, as it leaves me (but too often !) very indifferent at present."
8th. — Had our first dinner on board, and begin to shake into our places. The men begin to understand the meaning of being told off six to a mess ; finding that to each mess is daily handed a four-pound piece of beef or pork, with a proportion of flour and raisins to accompany the one, and peas to make a pudding for the other — not to mention the biscuit and alternate tea or cocoa for breakfast. Each mess carves its own number in Roman nu- merals on a piece of wood attached to the beef, pork, or pudding ; and each number is called aloud by the cook as he fishes it up tied in a cloth from the copper with his huge fork.
•To-day the ladies came on board, rather turning up their noses at our homely arrangements, and no doubt remembering that part of the marriage vow which binds them to follow their husbands for worse as well as for better ; expecting, we may suppose,
8 ARRIVAL OF THE LADIES. CHAP. 1.
to find the cabin lined with mahogany and mirrors, and something different from the plain deal table and benches, strongly cleated down and immoveable. The uncarpeted floor, also, and the general rough- ness of the accommodation, gave rise to sundry disparaging remarks in reference to the authorities charged with the regulation of such matters. Mrs. Huggins felt a strong degree of nausea at the smell of the bilge-water ; a remark which, coming from a lady of inferior army rank, was rather, resented by Mrs. Muggins, who could not for her part help thinking that some people found fault with things from affectation — a rather unfa- vourable beginning this for the harmony of the respective houses of Huggins and Muggins during the four or five months they were likely to be shut up together. Neither did the choice of cabins, effected by the husbands without previous con- sultation with their better halves, altogether suit the views or inclinations of the latter ; hence a well-sustained murmuring, faintly audible through the bulk-heads after retirement, was naturally referred to curtain lectures inflicted upon the delin- quents. " Tantaene animis ?" What a pity !
CHAP. I. MYSTERIOUS VISITORS. 9
In company with the ladies came certain fresh- killed joints to hang with our wreaths over the stem, and good store of newly— but double — baked bread (hard even at starting), to keep us as long as possible from the stern necessity of biscuit ; than which a more hateful substitute for bread was never devised by man.
There came also one or two dark-complexioned gentlemen, who took people aside and spoke mys- teriously in reference to certain manuscripts which they produced from their pocketbooks, and making distant allusion to a rough-looking individual in the boat below ; departing, nevertheless, with much alacrity and the best of wishes, on the deposit of certain notes of the Bank of Ireland in the aforesaid pocketbooks, in return for which they kindly left their autographs.
This day also came on board a functionary to give me the offer of remaining at home, on the plea of expected promotion ; but I had cast in my lot with the outward-bound ; I wanted to see the world, and declined the offer.
9M. — The blue peter has been flying since six in the morning ; the topsails are shaken out ;
B3
10 HINT FROM THE JACKASS FRIGATE. CHAP. I.
the skipper, a rosy, good-humoured, round little man, is come aboard ; the anchor is hove short, and we probably hold on to Old Ireland by only half a fluke. Still at half-past eight we are waiting for some " dilatory man " sent to settle our pecuniary affairs in Cove. The skipper looks anxiously to- ward the man-of-war, a jackass frigate, lying lower down the harbour, and who, in spite of her calm ap- pearance, is doubtless keeping a fiery eye upon our proceedings. " We shall soon hear from that fellow," was the remark of some one, scarcely spoken before a jet of smoke burst from her dark hull — bang ! and up ran certain bits of red and blue and yellow to her gaff-end, saying, as plainly as angry bunting could say, " What the devil are you waiting for ?" After a while down they come again, and up goes more fierce and angry bunt- ing, intimating to the initiated that we might look out for some cold iron through our topsails unless we instantly made sail. The fact is, there was a martinet on board that jackass frigate, — a circum- stance of which we might have gone away in total ignorance but for this little demonstration.
Then, at the last moment, we muster all hands,
CHAP. I. ONE TOO MANY. 11
men, women, and children. To prevent mistakes, two non-commissioned officers with the mate go rummaging through the hold amongst the baggage, prying with lantern into every corner, and there, alas ! huddled behind a coil of the chain cable, they find one too many. She is brought on deck, — a slender girl of scarce seventeen, begrimed with coal, and rust, and tears. Plow she came there it would be almost inhuman to inquire. Her hus- band was little older than herself — a good man, and they were lately married. There is a pretty general look of compassion for her speechless agony. Is there no way of taking her ? seems to be a question on most features. Can't the trans- port laws be stretched, most noble skipper? He points tohia "indent," and shakes his head. Does no one want a nurse, or a maid, whether for house or parlour, where abundance of footmen are kept ? No one want a fine, healthy, general servant ? — if no one speaks, she's gone I Unhappy bachelors, to whom the question has no reference ! Meantime an old leathern purse has gone about from hand to hand, getting heavier as it goes — gets heavier still with coppers " forrud," — changes into an old bag, and is
12 THE SEA. CHAP. I.
said to be placed in her hand, scarce conscious of holding it. Then there is a sobbing, a scuffle, and a hideous scream of grief as the boat casts off; but most people are looking at the jackass frigate, which we then happen to be passing.
, Wth. — " The sea, the sea, the wide and open sea!" We are fairly entered on our nautical existence, in which, truth to say, there is but little poetry. We begin to feel it not so pleasant to keep watch for four hours at a time both day and night, there being only three to it. True, the dog- watches, of which there are two in the twenty-four hours, are each of only two hours' duration, and so called, according to the facetious derivation, from being cwr-tailed. To go through this and other duties, such as superintending the scouring of berths below, seeing the messes served out, &c., when a man is sick, and those amongst whom he moves still more sick, has rather the effect of dis- enchanting one of any ideas, previously formed, of the pleasures of a sea life.
As the breeze freshens, all female and infant forms disappear from the deck, dragging down with them in most cases their natural protectors.
CHAP. I. PIG-KILLING. 13
Still the wind is fair, the weather delightful : plenty of ships in sight coming up from the south and west, as well as the wind will let them, and steer- ing for the British Channel. We exchange colours with all within reach, and the British ensign bears at least the proportion of ten to one of any other nation.
12th. — We are fairly in the blue ocean water, and feel the long Atlantic swell. A terrible roller our light vessel.
The sun goes down upon a most wilful murder — our first pig is sacrificed. It is an event in the ship. His screams are heartrending, but there is no pity. Real butchers are not to seek, but every man seems whetting an imaginary knife to join in his destruction. Whether in a village or a ship, I am inclined to think that pig-killing day brings with it more pleasurable excitement than any other of the ordinary events of life. The epicurean en- joyment of his "fry" was on this occasion some- what dashed by one of the sacrificing augurs entering too minutely into deductions from the entrails.
24th. — Land on the starboard bow. Small lumps of the faintest grey colour are pronounced to
14 FUJsCHAL. CHAP. I.
be Porto Santo, a small group of islands to the
^C north of Madeira. A dark-coloured gull of longer
wing and a sharper flight observed, and rapidly increasing as we advance. We are foaming before a north-east wind at the rate of 9| knots an hour. Land again on the larboard side ; the Desertas, two con- siderable islands, of a rugged mountainous character and of a yellowish-red colour, set in the deep blue sea, with a white fringe of surf at their bases. And here is seen the advantage of climate in setting off a place ; the green hills and fertile plains of Ireland looking scarcely so attractive under her cloudy skies and frequent drizzle, as did these treeless and ver- dureless islands, invested with the splendour of an African sun. Right ahead is the massive island of Madeira. We bring to off Funchal at 8 P.M. The lights of the town sparkle against the dark mountain side, but we are at some miles' distance. We fire a gun for a boat, and make hideous noises with a gong and bell, but no one is rash enough to come off to us. As vegetables and wine are desir- able, the skipper proposes to lie off and on till day- light.
i. — At dawn we are at least six miles
CHAP. I. THE HEALTH OFFICER. 15
from the island, nor can we prevail upon our cautious skipper to approach nearer, probably fear- ful of harbour-dues. Three of us, with two of the crew and a marketing party of four grenadiers and a serjeant, put off in the jolly-boat — a weary pull in the morning sun ; and the boat so leaky that two men are employed in baling her out. Nestled close under the fort we find one of our transports that sailed the same day from Cork harbour, and has been here two days. The health officer, a little man in an enormous cocked hat, comes out to meet us, and say " How do you do ?" He politely re- ceives our papers, including the surgeon's certi- ficate, with a pair of tongs, nor does he venture any nearer contact till assured by us of the perfect health of all on board. Finding he can pick no hole in our coats, we are permitted to pull to the transport to partake of a sumptuous breakfast, not the least attractive part of which was the delicious fruit.
After to Mr. Penfold, the wine-merchant — a merchant prince, to judge from his house. Vast saloons covered with matting, and little encum- bered with furniture; the windows opening into
16 FUNCHAL^ CHAP. I.
shady verandahs, and the banana- trees gently waving their long leaves, as if it were their peculiar duty to fan the house and keep it cool.
Our host, an English gentleman, informed us that samples of their wines would soon be ready in an adjoining apartment. Thither, in effect, we were shortly summoned, and found a handsome luncheon served, of hot and cold, heaps of fruit — bananas, oranges, melons, grapes, — and an array of ticketed and numbered decanters, enough to have convinced Father Mathew himself of the error of his ways. At a side-table sat a clerk with an enor- mous ledger, to which the numbers on the bottles under trial were referred ; and it was gratifying to find that our tastes so nearly coincided with those of the great potentates of Europe.
" This we sent to the Emperor of Russia, and His Imperial Majesty was pleased to avow his high ap- proval." " His Highness of Baden expressed him- self much gratified with this sample." " You think well of the flavour of this ? Prince Metternich had a large consignment of it last year." " This, I assure you, has given great satisfaction to the Sultan, who takes a bottle of it, medicinally, every day." Queens
CHAP. I. WINES. 17
and princesses figured in the ledger. His Holiness liked a mild wine ; the Pacha of Egypt, on the con- trary, preferred it full and fruity. To Mahomed- ans, no doubt, it afforded an additional zest, when the pleasure of sinning was added to the gust of drinking. So many kings and queens were mixed up with our potations, that we seemed to be pass- ing the bottle with the Lord's anointed. One gen- tleman, with an imperial taste, and setting aside all court etiquette, applied more than once to a favourite decanter, with the familiar invitation of " Emperor, another glass ?"
Dreading the " inflammation of our weekly bills," we eschewed the royal samples, contenting ourselves with a hot-military variety of less pretension, a quarter-cask of which was sent down to the boat, and a not illiberal order given to our hospitable entertainer to forward direct to the Mauritius. The best quality of wine 46/. a pipe : the same in London 76Z.
Madeira has been so often described that it would be somewhat superfluous in me to enlarge upon that subject. Beautiful it unquestionably is, but scarcely coming up to the glowing descriptions
18 ATRABILIOUS COMPLEXIONS. CHAP. I.
of travellers. Its beauties are probably exagger- ated from the fact of its being the first land which the voyager falls in with after leaving England on his southward or westward course ; and the entire novelty of the scene, the softness of the climate, and the good spirits attendant upon getting for the first time on shore since leaving home, may not unna- turally tinge his description with a couleur de rose.
No philanthropist can walk the streets of Fun- chal without regretting his omission to provide himself with a box of blue pills for the sake of trying what effect might be produced upon the Portuguese complexion. How is it that the Por- tuguese complexion is more utterly nasty, more atra- bilious and toadlike, than that of any other people on the face of the earth, either in their own lati- tude or out of it ?
There is, too, a grossness of habit indicated in their fat, pursy figures, and yellow eyes, which nothing but the pil : hydrarg : would remove.
They are a most ceremonious people. Never did I see hats taken off with more persevering and unmitigated rigour. No one passes an acquaint- ance—and they seem nearly all acquainted — with-
CHAP. I. CEREMOMOUSXESS. 19
out raising the hat, so that they may pass each other uncovered. It is curious to look along a street and see nearly all the hats in the air. To pass without this ceremony, under any circum- stances, is impossible. If two men run against each other at the corner of a street, they snatch off their hats with such convulsive energy, for fear of being too late, that one is at first alarmed lest they should be going to knock each other down with their heavy beavers. It does not seem to have occurred to any hatter to renew the brims of hats, which are usually worn out while the head-piece remains fresh.
The ladies have a worn, listless appearance, and are dressed with singular unbecomingness : unmiti- gated black, without even the intervention of a collar between the dress and the yellow skin. They are not so absolutely atrabilious as the men ; still I could rarely help muttering as I passed them, " I vel II hora somni." They are carried about in palanquins of a singularly inconvenient structure, hanging from the bearing-pole so low as barely to clear the ground, and rendering a very long pole necessary to keep the machine clear of the bearers'
20 FUNCHAL. CHAP. I.
shins as they go up and down hill— and there is little level ground in Funchal. The peasantry are very picturesque. The men wear a short blue or white jacket, unbuttoned, and showing the generally clean shirt, very large white linen breeches, and high yellow-leather boots wrinkled down and show- ing the bare stockingless leg between the boot and breeches ; on their heads a very small conical blue cap, barely covering the crown of the head, and more for show than use. Our visit happened on a Sunday, so probably we saw the natives dressed in their best.
We passed the door of the English church just as service was over ; the congregation excited a me- lancholy interest — mostly thin, pale, fragile forms, with but little to inspire hope in their too -bright eyes.
The town is good and the streets pleasantly narrow. The cathedral shows in its interior a great appearance of the precious metals, whether sterling or not.
The abundance of ice, which in a warm climate is an almost indispensable comfort, is not one of the least advantages of Madeira ; and to this may be
CHAP. I. MUTINOUS SAILORS. 21
added the exquisite fruit and vegetables. The thermometer was at 74° ; we were informed that it rises sometimes to 90°, though the usual range is from 70° to 80°.
We left Madeira with much regret — the more so as our friends in the other transport were most hospitably entertained on shore every day ; but there was no help for it. We found that our marketing party had spent their money so judiciously that the boat was heaped up with good things, among which our cask of wine stood conspicuous. It was no easy matter to insinuate ourselves amongst the fish, flesh, fowl, and fruit. The two sailors were drunk and mutinous — would neither pull themselves nor suffer others to do so. It became necessary to take strong measures. They were at once knocked down, bound hand and foot, and laid under the thwarts forward, while a grenadier with a stretcher in his hand was ordered to administer it most libe- rally upon the slightest movement on their part. About ten o'clock we finished a weary pull to the ship.
2Sth.— Saw our first flying-fish ; we flushed him under the bows, and he took a half circular flight
22 CAPE DE VERDES. CHAP. I.
of about two hundred yards. Some people expected to see these fish soaring in the air like birds.
29f/t.— Pass the tropic of Cancer, 1000 miles from Madeira : since leaving that island scarcely a bird has been seen.
July 3rd. — It is decided to pass between the islands of Antonio and St. Vincent, two of the Cape de Verdes. At nine in the morning we are sup- posed to be entering the channel between them, but not a vestige of either land is to be seen. There is no appearance of mist, and the horizon is plainly visible. With the steady trade wind and a good look-out, abundant observations, both solar and lunar, the authorities are rather wondering what can have become of two considerable islands, which, from their height, ought to be seen fifty or sixty miles off. We descend to breakfast, entertaining some faint suspicions that the science of navigation is not without its mistakes ; that our daily tele- graphing with the sun has been conducted upon false principles ; or, what is more likely, that the moon has jilted us in the longitude, and we are far away to the westward. While the grumblers were hard at work in their vocation, there is a startling
CHAP. I. ANTONIO AND ST. VINCENT. 23
cry of " Land on the lee bow !" followed almost immediately by " Land on the weather beam !" We rush on deck, and never did curtain rise upon a more glorious scene ! — so startling from its suddenness, that it seemed like magic. On the starboard side — apparently close to us — rose an enormous, broken, irregular rocky mountain, to the height of 8400 feet (more than twice the height of Snowdon), the island of Antonio. On the other side was the still more irregular and broken, but somewhat lower, mountainous outline of St. Vincent. Both were partially covered with parched vegeta- tion, but no living thing that we could see. There was something awful in the desert-look of the land and the shipless and boatless sea: as we passed through the channel our telescopes failed to dis- cover any trace of inhabitants. Even the appear- ance of vegetation in the deep ravines was some- what apocryphal, and there was not a bird upon the deep blue sea. Both islands are, nevertheless, in- habited, though on the other sides.
At this crisis a " little stranger " is announced as having made his appearance in our small world, and destined by general acclamation to bear the
24 THAMES WATER. CHAP. I.
name of Antonio. In the mean time he is entered on the books, and commences drawing his allowance of beef, pork, peas, flour, cocoa, tea, sugar, biscuit, and grog — to be consumed by either self or deputy.
We see something from time to time in the columns of newspapers and other places about the impurities of Thames water ; but for a practical acquaintance with that subject I recommend the curious inquirer to take a voyage in one of Her Majesty's transports from the port of London. It purifies itself, say the apologists ; and so to a cer- tain extent it does : but the process of purification is far from rapid, during which it exhibits various forms of putridity, and a variety of colours, as the runnings from gas-works or sewers may predominate in each particular cask. And when it is considered that the water on board ship is never thrown away or exchanged, that you have a certain allowance, which, like the " choice " of the celebrated Mr. Hobson, is " that or none," the least you have a right to expect is, that some part of its purgatory process should be gone through previous to its being taken on board. Besides, it is hardly fair to make
CHAP. I. THE TEMPER LATITUDES. 25
our tea and soup, and wash our faces and mouths, with sewage-manure water, when there is a duly registered company depending for their profits on its valuable deposits. The man who draws the bung of each cask steps aside, forewarned, and lets a noxious gas escape.
Abandoned by the north-east trade wind, we come into a latitude aptly enough called " the Variables," where even the inconstant wind is more variable than elsewhere— where the powers of the air seem to be gasping like ourselves, too indolent to give a strong or a long puff from any point. For this part of the globe I would take the liberty of suggesting the name of the Temper latitudes. At length the old ship seems fairly brought to anchor on the Line.
Twenty-one days in the latitude of zero ; or rising into hope a few seconds south, then falling back to despair a few minutes north — twenty-one days of dead, leaden, glazed, windless water ; stagnant, sweltering air ; gray, hazy sky. Scarcely was there a sign of life, except when some unseen monster flushed a covey of flying-fish. Then the dreary complaining of the half-blind poultry — some wholly
26 OUR LIVE-STOCK. CHAP. I.
blind from the sun— their heads swelled— sick ! And to watch the morning progress of that ruthless executioner Jemmy Ducks — so called from his office — the Jack Ketch of the ship. He is the general disturber of deathbeds — the anticipator of fate. Does a turkey droop, pensive and uncomplaining ? — a chicken hang the wing, or give an hysterical catch of the throat ? — a duck lie down to die ? — they are caught up hastily in their last moments and hurried to the forecastle — our Tower Hill — and in another minute their bodies are hanging over the boat. The worst cases go into curry, as being the state least favourable to post mortem examination ; less afflicted patients are boiled or roasted. And how incongruous it is to hear the bleating of sheep, raising an idea of buttercups and daisies in an atmosphere of tar and bilge-water. In the dead-alive scene it is a positive pleasure to hear a sharp outcry from the piggery, the angry remonstrance of some overlaid member of that community shaking off the unnecessary blanket.
For a day or two we get on well enough — the glassy sea is a change of scenery from hills to plain ; but the spirits sink as you watch every
CHAP. I. INVOKING A BREEZE. 27
failing breath of air dying away in smaller and smaller catspaws, till not a scratch remains upon the polished face of the ocean.
Suddenly every man has taken to whistle, catch- ing the habit one from another : the captain coun- tenances the practice by example ; the mate blows stronger than he, but still with a sort of mystery, and looking anxiously at the desired point. The sailors tarring the backstays or mending a sail, the boys aloft, the watch on deck, all whistle gently as they look up from their work ; and even the man at the wheel relieves himself of pent-up tobacco- juice that he may furtively assist in raising the wind. Presently the landsmen take it up, impa- tiently, and as if the breeze could be bullied into the service ; scandalizing the regular practitioners by making a joke of the invocation.
Then it is that men take to reading who never read before ; and the most unlikely books obtain attention. Dictionaries, changing their character of books of reference, become the light reading of a livelong day ; and a last year's almanac, if it had the luck to feel, might, like an aged coquette, rejoice in renewed conquests. With what a dreamy
c2
28 LIGHT READING. CHAP. I.
interest does the reader pore over the motions of the sun and moon — and the happy prognostications of Moore or Murphy, discovering that " fine warm weather may be expected about this time." Then he stumbles upon strange saints that he never heard of before, and wonders who were St. Britius, and Remigius, and Eunurchus, and Nicomedius, and where they lived, and what they did — but cheering up at the name of St. Lucy. And then he wishes — how heartily ! — that he could do as the compiler recommends, too happy to earth-up celery, or hoe beans, or even spread dung upon the fallows, had he such a happy chance ; and, seeing the sweltering condition of himself and friends, almost smiles at the recommendation to " keep calves warm."
And all along from day to day the thing grew worse, and no mere human tempers could stand it. The firmest friends became estranged, no longer seeking, but avoiding each other. While Orestes was on deck, Pylades had turned in ; if Nisus sat upon the turkeys, Euryalus was with the ducks ; Castor in the cuddy thought not of Pollux on the poop : each fled the face of the other. Question a man, and you feel that you have deserved abuse ;
CHAP. I. FATE OF THE « FOUR HOLLANDERS." 29
ask him to move, and you have made an enemy for life. The caterer is huffed at any criticism of his dinner. Pea-soup becomes a personal affair ; and the question of with celery or without launches us into all the bitterness of party. He stands or falls with his pudding; and would at once go out of office at the most hypothetical reference to a bad egg. He who has charge of the wine angrily throws his keys overboard at a corked bottle ; and even the fiddler, at discord with himself and others, hurls away his bow at the perpetration of a false note. After a fortnight or so we begin to read with an interest never felt before of what Hakluyt's " Four Hollanders " suffered in their voyage to these parts, and find our condition verging fast towards a similar state. " Our fleshe and fishe stunke, our bisket molded, our beere sowred, our water stunke, and our butter became as thinne as oyle ;" and the still worse case of that unfortunate * Pilgrim ' of Purchas, Giovanni de Empoli, who " saith that on his return out of India he was heere detained foure-
and-fifty days and in thirty-five days they
cast overboard threescore and sixteen of their com- pany, very few surviving in their ship." A tiff
MISERIES OF A CALM. CHAP. I.
in such cases is almost a godsend, as opening a safety-valve of sharp language ; for every one feels himself an overcharged boiler, ready and rather anxious to burst. In the depth of your selfish distress, you have no pity for the complaining poultry. A querulous turkey draws down your coarse anathema ; even a hard-quacking duck moves you. You take less and less pleasure in nursing a baby, objecting to be pawed about the face by his innocent sticky hands. Nay, to such a pitch has your milk of human kindness been curdled, that you loathe the unconscious innocent sprawling on the deck beside you, and reciting, perhaps for hours, in a monotonous chant, passages in the lives of Sally Waters or Margery Daw. Such trifles may not improbably drive you out of the silentest corner, or perhaps into the maintop. Even the ladies have lost their attractions with their tidiness ; you have got beyond all that ; hair hangs tangled and unkempt ; collars have mostly disappeared ; they have come to no-smiles and black silk stockings.
And the hot, stifling nights — breathless, stagnant, still — the silence only broken by the wearisome
CHAP. I. MISERIES OF A CALM. 31
groaning of the ship as she seems to ease by a turn her old bed-ridden bones ; and the gasping collapse of a sail against the blocks and halyards startles you as if she had reached her last sigh and rattle.
Then arises the exhalation of bilge-water, mixed with no laughing gas. Our ship is a new one — uncomfortably tight — makes no water, as the phrase is ; and with some grain from a former cargo adrift in her impenetrable depths, which, mixing in a fermented state with the putrid water, generates a gas which turns the white paint black.
Even the sea becomes untidy, for we cannot escape from our rubbish. It would drive any con- scientious housemaid distracted to see the helpless litter of the ocean. Straw, chips, paper, dust, hampers, rags, float about us ; and we are the sun of a planetary system of empty bottles. Port, with his dirty-white waistcoat, seems at odds with his fair partner of Xeres, and nodding the other way. The stout Hodgson and the stout Guinness are coquetting with the delicate embonpoint of Schweppe or the suggestive Pop ; and amongst the company might be noticed, with his arm akimbo, the burly
32 A SEA-ATTORNEY. CHAP. I.
form of one who came over from Rotterdam in the gin line.
Looking attentively at the rubbish, you fancy a motion in a thin filmy substance rising into a triangle with the water-line. It is something more than fancy, for a watchful eye sees it palpably steal through the dust and straw. The inexperienced may imagine a breeze wafting the light substance along, but the old voyager recognises the dorsal fin of a shark. It is the sea-attorney, prowling stealthily round his clients, and making out his little bill — of fare. Avoid him as carefully as you would his prototype on shore ; for men's limbs are his six- and-eightpences, and there is no taxing his costs. He battens upon wrecks like the other. An aban- doned crew are his suitors in Chancery, dropping one by one into his jaws ; a foundering ship is his bubble railroad, and the struggling swimmers his provisional committee. Sometimes, though rarely, we get the better of him ; and then what rejoicing at the defeat of a common enemy ! — what intense satisfaction to see him the victim of his own greediness ! — and how ready are we to help the carpenter in striking him off the rolls.
CHAP. I. EATING AN ENEMY. 33
We have even a more ample revenge upon this sea variety than we would wish with the other. We run up a New Zealand intimacy with him.* Most people — fancying they are doing an act of wild justice — try him once ; though few I appre- hend are tempted to come again : and I have inva- riably noticed an anxious and uncomfortable ex- pression in the faces of those who are tempted to go this length. There is a villanous no-taste about him more nauseous than the most pronounced nas- tiness. Disguise him as you will — appropriately broil and devil him — call in all the adjuncts of Lazenby or Burgess — you still feel that you have taken an enemy into your citadel. And there is, besides, a half consciousness of being a oannibal at second hand. Persons rarely sit long at table after shark ; their exit perhaps hastened by some coarse jest of the mate, who inquires of the steward in an under tone what became of the oleatl- man's foot that was found in the shark's stomach. This functionary, who is blessed with a dry uncouth wit, generally finds an anecdote on occasions of distress.
* " You knew Brown ?" asked an inquiring traveller of his friendly chief. " Plenty well : I eat him ! "
c3
34 A BOOBY. CHAP. I.
He informs his next neighbour in a confidential undertone that it was just such a fish as this — he could a'raost swear it was the same — that eat an aunt of his in Barbadoes. " And wery curious, was'nt it, as he should have spit out her stays and bustle as he was a-chewing of her ?"
Next to the capture of a sea-attorney, there are few greater godsends than the arrival of a booby. He is an early riser, and mostly appears about breakfast- time. The cat is the first to see him, and attracts attention by her restless motions, the rising of her back-fur, and her enormous tail. She is, however, too cautious under any circumstances to attempt the capture, or even to leave the hull of the vessel. Taking the direction of the cat's eyes, face after face, grinning horribly in the morning sun, is lifted towards the royal yard-arm, where sits in fancied security the dreamy bird. Boy Dick already has him by anticipation ; and shoeless and stockingless is quickly crawling up the ratlines to effect his capture.
In vain does the black and greasy cook, with shirt-sleeves rolled above the elbow, hold up his ladleful of cocoa and call aloud for the tins of
CHAP. I. BOY DICK'S DEXTERITY. 35
No. 1 mess ; but the eyes of No. 1 are going aloft with Boy Dick. The orderly officer, seated on the bulwark, and holding on by a vang, has slewed himself round to see the fun ; and the cook himself, after a fruitless effort to bale out the breakfasts, draws his hairy wrist across his eyes, and, screwing a shade out of his facial muscles, looks aloft with the rest,
Boy Dick has suddenly become famous. He is now at the futtock shrouds. On any ordinary occa- sion he would have eschewed these, preferring the safer and more inglorious course of the lubber's hole ; but now he disdains the pusillanimous com- promise— he had rather lose the booby than do it. Keeping his eyes upon the bird, as if to show how easily he can overcome the laws of gravity, he lounges with affected carelessness — though holding fast by the toes— round the edge of the top, and then addresses himself to the second flight. Not an eye upon deck that is not directed towards Boy Dick. The man at the helm leans idly over the wheel neglecting his course, and, though the sails are lifting, the mate is too much taken up with the booby to cry " No higher." Even the Doctor,
36 THE CAPTURE. CHAP. I.
whose whole conduct is founded on the nil admi- rari plan, has thrust his half-shaved face up the hatch, and asks, " What do you see ?" " A booby, Sir," is the ready answer of one who looks hard at him ; but the " knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear."
Boy Dick has surmounted the cross-trees, and is swarming up the royal halyards — he is up to, and leaning over, the yard — he is silently and stealthily sliding along the foot-lines towards the booby, who thrusts out his head with a stupid stare, as much as to say, " Who are you ?" Meantime bets are freely offered and taken. Inches of pigtail are about to change hands. Many think he won't catch him — others, again, think he will. If any- thing, the boy is the favourite ; but a slight lift of the wing sends up the bird two to one. Boy Dick makes play along the foot-rope — he has taken his hand from the yard and gently raised it over the bird — the booby cocks his eye at the coming stranger, but moves not — gradually the hand de- scends— the fingers close — Hah ! every one draws a long breath as the prize is seized. His elegy is sung by one of the losers—
CHAP. I. DEEP SEA SOUNDING. 37
" Well, the divle a softer chap than that never I see!"
Among other attempts at killing time was that of sounding the depths of old Ocean, with a view to test the strength of his embrace in his own strong- holds. It is a popular notion that an empty bottle, lowered to a great depth, will infallibly be found full of water on being drawn up (some people, to make the marvel the greater, say fresh water). Doubts arose upon this point, and it was deter- mined to defeat, if possible, this intrinsic propensity of the sea. With this view, a strong empty porter- bottle was procured, into which was thrust a stick as large as could be introduced into the neck, and which was cut to such a length as, when one end rested on the bottom of the bottle, the other came about half way up the neck. Down upon this stick was then driven a well-fitting new cork, which it was evident, as the stick fitted the neck, could not by any amount of force be driven into the bottle without breaking the stick. The cork then being cut off even with the top of the neck, four sound pieces of bladder were laid down over the cork and lashed tightly with several layers of
38 AN EXPERIMENT. CHAP. I.
tarred twine round the whole outside of the neck, which was then dipped repeatedly into hot pitch, forming a smooth coating over all. The bottle, so secured, was then made fast to the deep-sea line, a few feet above the lead, and lowered to a depth of some hundred fathoms. On being almost im- mediately hauled up, these appearances presented themselves. The bottle was unbroken, but the pitch had been chipped off the upper part of the neck ; there was a small ragged hole through each layer of bladder ; the cork retained its place, though completely saturated with water ; the stick was unbroken, and the bottle was full ! A pretty fair proof of the enormous pressure of the sea at great depths.
It was when things were at the worst, after twenty-two days' calm, and people were got beyond even quarrelling with their bread and butter — though they might have done more unreasonable things, seeing that the one was entirely mouldy, and the other served out with a spoon — when a coming change was visible. Dull clouds had risen, but still there was no wind. In one spot the heavy mass descended nearer and nearer to the surface,
CHAP. I. A SQUALL. 39
as if the great black-muzzled monster had a mind to kiss the fair face of the ocean ; and suddenly thrusting forth its liquorish lips, it sucked up the smooth surface, holding it aloft with a fond dal- liance as it sweeps along. The spell of the calm is broken, or soon to be so. Down come the royals and studding-sails, in topgallant sails, clew up the courses — they are fairly stripping the old ship naked ; scarcely decent to cut away every flounce and furbelow. Here it comes — a white line on the water, raising the sea into smoke. " Starboard — port — starboard — steady — keep her before it !" The old lady had suddenly started from her arm- chair into five, seven, nine knots an hour. Still the breeze increases, furious — tearing; the rattle of block and cordage ; the flap of ill-secured sails, scarce heard in the roar of the squall. " All hands shorten sail!" Hurrah! — staggering up through the mist go the whole ship's crew, holding on for life. Suddenly the wind has shifted a point or two, or the men at the helm have failed to meet her as she came to, and we are laid over till the yard-arms well nigh dip in the sea. Seated astride upon the very end of the yard to leeward is the
40 A SHOWER-BATH. CHAP. I.
hardy second mate — capless — his hair like to follow ; and we fear the next roll will bury him, yard and all, in the deep.
Suddenly some one has pulled the string of the shower-bath, and down it comes in a torrent of marbles — faster, thicker, heavier every moment. You have thrown off all unnecessary clothing, and stand against the weight of water as well as you can, holding on by a vang. Your parched skin seems to hiss under it: it is a bath, the luxury of which defies the power of description to pre- sent, as it does the cunning of human invention to equal.
And 'this is the time to do the ducks a good turn. We are all fellow-creatures ; and I pity him who can only make their acquaintance under the final condition of sage and onions. Get the tubs out, and give them a thorough fresh-water wash- ing. Their state for weeks has been all but hope- less. The thoughtless deck-washers, with mistaken benevolence, have sluiced them with salt water, which, penetrating the feathers, has matted them into a frowzy wiry mass. Self-respect has been dead in the duck-pen — they have scarce had the
CHAP. I. A CLEAN-SHIRT FOR THE DUCKS. 41
heart to quack — their smooth well-oiled panoply has been broken through, and they seem to feel all the shame of a dirty shirt. But the restoration to decency and comfort is a thing to witness. No fallen coquette lapsed into rags and wretchedness, and suddenly brought back to the condition of former conquests, even exhibited more unfeigned delight. They ar^ positively too happy to speak out, but mutter their congratulations through every billful of feathers. They have found new tones in which to express themselves — a tiny laughing language. Now and then, to be sure, a fussy old drake will intermit his toilet to throw out a hasty bow to a fair neighbour, or utter some wheezy compliment ; or an excitable young duck, unable to contain herself, will fairly give vent to her feel- ings in a "quack, quack, quack,'5 that may be heard for a mile.
A word about poultry. Never go to sea with- out the chickens' teeth — gravel or broken stones. They cannot masticate with the unassisted gizzard ; hence dyspepsia, perhaps pip. And take them something to make their egg-shells of — mortar or
42 CHICKEN'S TEETH. CHAP. I.
lime ; and old egg-shells they will freely eat. Hens, with every natural wish to lie-in, are baffled without such baby-clothes, and reduced to the un- seemly miscarriage of a soft egg.
CHAP. II. THE LINE. 43
CHAPTER II.
The Line — Theatre afloat — Heroine hands the Main-royal — The Porpoise — Stormy Petrel — Flying Fish — Drifting towards Patagonia — A Glance at Pigafetta and Harris — Their Pictures of a Patagon — Medical Treatment — Change of Stars — Magellan Clouds — Chastening Influence of Life at Sea — A Gale — Birds — The Flying Dutchman — Ar- rive at the Mauritius.
JUDGING from the way in which the ceremony of shaving at the Line is carried on even in these rose- water days, we may guess the sort of horse-play which was practised in the times of Drake and An- son, when keel-hauling and suchlike practical jokes were permitted. As it is, a man unpopular with his messmates may make sure of a severe handling. With the upper classes it is "pay or play;" a bottle of rum insuring an immunity from all annoy- ance ; but it seemed to us an anomaly to cross the Line without the customary shaving, so it was de- cided both to pay and play. These scenes have been somewhat too often described already ; suffice
44 CROSSING THE LINE. CHAP. II.
it to say, that, while being lathered with a not over- delicate shaving-soap, each individual is put to the question as to his former voyages, if any — his birth, parentage, place of residence, &c. ; and the point of the joke is the end of the tarry, greasy brush pushed into the mouth of the incautious answerer. The lather is then scraped off, and he is released, running the gauntlet, however, of a few buckets of water launched at him from the tops, where a sup- ply has been provided for the occasion. The sol- diers and sailors are turned backwards after the shaving into a tubful of water, and while scrambling out of this are abundantly soused with the bucket- fulls of the assistants.
Amongst other devices for passing the time it was happily proposed to act a play ; but here was a difficulty, what play ? The private libraries sup- plied no kind of dramatic composition but Shak- speare, and it was felt that the legitimate drama would, all things considered, be somewhat too heavy for us. A bright thought beamed upon some one, — " Write a play !" Admirable suggestion ! affording some proof, if any were wanting, that even in the most difficult cases to dare is generally to do. The
CHAP. II. JOINT-STOCK PLAY-WRITING. 45
plot (a simple one) took about half an hour in con- cocting ; before night the first act was completed.
The ingenious playwright, employed in catering for a London audience, may perhaps take an inte- rest in the process employed by us on this occasion. We went upon the joint-stock principle of Beau- mont and Fletcher, though with power to add to our number. The company being formed, each director took a part upon himself, and whose share of the dialogue throughout the piece he was bound by self or deputy to furnish. The scenes were settled in general committee, and when the call-boy gave out, for instance, "Scene, a country inn in
Ireland, Ensign (an officer on detachment)
solus," the individual so circumstanced, provided with pen and paper, proceeds to write his solilo- quy. " To him enter the landlord," who also comes in with his writing materials, and each car- ries on the dialogue, writing down his alternate re- marks. " To them enter Kitty, the landlord's daughter." When the whole play (farce more pro- perly) is gone through, it is subjected to a general weeding, pruning, and polishing of all the contri- butors, the requisite number of copies fairly written
46 A JOINT-STOCK PLAY. CHAP. II.
out, and at once put into the hands of the per- formers.
It is one of the advantages of a military life that you can in a regiment put your hand at any moment upon a professor of almost every trade, and even some of the professions. On the present occasion we found ourselves rich in histrionic talent. These were the dramatis persona : —
" A young English officer on detachment for the first time in the wilds of Ireland, full of affecta- tion, and unused to rough it — admirably played by one of the men, who hit off, by tone and ges- ture, some personal peculiarities, which kept the house (ship) in a roar.
" Officer's servant, a sentimental youth, the hero of the piece, once a hair-dresser, making love to all the girls ; jilted, and a butt.
" The landlord, an old Irish soldier, holding with the Whiteboys and his guests the military, and benefiting by both.
" Kitty, his daughter, excellently dressed and played by Boy Dick.
CHAP. II. A JOINT-STOCK PLAY. 47
" Katty, the servantmaid, Boy Jack, a finished coquette, jilting everybody and producing end- less confusion. The sentimental servant, keep- ing an appointment, is seized by the Whiteboys and carried to the mountains, but subsequently rescued by the ingenuity of Katty, who eventu- ally takes pity upon and marries him."
The plot winds up merrily with the discomfiture of the Whiteboys, their trial, and subsequent par- don for some good turns they have done to the other characters in the piece. Kitty marries the serjeant, to whom she blunt! v proposes, having failed to engage the affections of the officer ; and the bewil- derment of the serjeant under the unusual circum- stances of an offer, and his being fairly mobbed into the match, with his subsequent doubt whether he is really married, or it is all a dream, is not the least amusing part of the play.
For upwards of a fortnight the utmost excitement prevailed throughout the ship, and impatience for the opening of the theatre. Rehearsals there had been, but managed as privately as the nature of the case admitted. On the eventful evening the theatre
48 THE REPRESENTATION. CHAP. II.
was rigged out with the assistance from the Captain of sails and flags. To avoid unnecessary scene- shifting, we thought it advisable to adhere strictly to the unities. The situation of the stage had this peculiarity, that it interposed between the boxes and the rest of the house : the dress circle was on the poop, the stage being alongside the capstan ; and the rest of the audience were arranged either on the longboat or on the standing rigging. That the performance went off well it is unnecessary to state, but the principal applause was certainly drawn down by the young ladies (Boys Dick and Jack), whose costume was perfect Perhaps an over-fasti- dious person might have thought their figures a trifle too prononce ; the shortcomings being more than made up by the judicious adaptation of swabs and oakum. Where their ringlets came from no one ventured to inquire. A slight hitch in the per- formance must be recorded. The first violin (the Doctor) took huff at some innuendo disparaging to the Faculty, and refused to play. A band of whistlers was immediately organized to assist the violino secundo.
It was in the last scene, when all parties are
CHAP. II. THE HEROINE ALOFT. 49
made happy, and the curtain was just about to fall, when the skipper was observed casting an anxious eye to windward, and, having apparently satisfied himself with his survey, came hastily to the front of the boxes and gave out the startling order, "All hands on deck there ! shorten sail. Boy Dick, hand the Royal ! Away aloft, Sir ! " This seemed a peculiar hardship for the heroine on her wedding day, but there was no help for it, as the second mate dandled suspiciously a rope's end in his hand. There was no time even to get rid of the bustle ; so, taking fairly to the rigging, false curls, flounces, and all, she " shinned away " aloft to the exhorta- tions of the mate, and finally lay over the royal yard and handed the sail, to the unbounded merri- ment of the audience.
The porpoise is a fish to whom every voyager must be grateful. Not only does he agreeably stir up the " level brine," but he gives us some- thing to think of — an object in the dreary solitude, and the hope of a breeze. And yet never were the personal qualities of any individual more mis- represented. He is held up to ridiculous obloquy in a sarcastic proverb. " As fat as a porpoise" leads
50 THE PORPOISE. CHAP. II.
to an idea of an obese monster — sluggish — inert — a marine Lambert. No one who writes about the sea but has a fling at him : " The porpoise rolled " and " the wallowing porpoise " are familiar as household words. His very name (porco pesce, pig-fish) is a slander.
The poets delight to poke him up with their sharp epigrams :
" And then I drag a bloated corpus, Swell'd with a dropsy like a porpus."
But the reverse of all this is the fact. He is the fastest and most sociable of fish, and never meets you without escorting you part of the way. He is not one of your cold-blooded animals, but wears his coat of fat as a paletot or aquascutum to keep him comfortable. To see a shoal of them bearing down upon the ship from a distance, and taking the rough water flying, is sure to draw a hearty " Holloa " from an old sportsman. There is an infectious jollity about them, as if they were out on a lark, and bent upon pressing you goodhu- mouredly into the adventure. No other fish in- troduces himself to man's notice, or courts his companionship : no other fish will turn back and
CHAP. II. THE PORPOISE. 51
walk with you, as it were, arm-in-arm. There is a reserve about all others of the order which defies intimacy : who ever scraped an acquaintance with a salmon or a pike, or tickled a trout, but with the hellish anticipation of frying him ? He is, besides, our nearest relation, the monkey excepted ; having, next to that creature, the largest brain. Monkeys being our brothers, porpoises must certainly be our first-cousins.
But still you feel humbled in his company : you have no chance in the race, for he overcomes your boasted nine knots with an easy flap of his tail. In spite of all your topsails and courses, your top- gallant sails, royals, studding-sails — carry on till every mast and yard is groaning with its weight, and the huge machine seems like to topple over with the very swag of your bellying canvas, you feel that you are pooh-poohed by a fat fish, and that all your art, and contrivance, and labour, and fore- thought, built upon every past experience from Noah to Symonds, does not enable you to keep pace with a monster whose every movement goes to fix upon you the taunt of a slow coach. How he goes round and round you — under your keel — and plays
52 THE STORMY PETREL. CHAP. II.
in the very foam of your bows, daring you to come on ! He even lifts his nose above the water to give you a snort of defiance.
But it is at night, when the sea is luminous, and every movement of the water brings out a flash of fire, that the gambols of a shoal of porpoises should be seen : they are then demons rushing through a fiery lake.
Nor is the porpoise the only creature who has suffered under a false character. The stormy petrel is still worse used, for a more quiet, in- offensive bird can nowhere be found. True, he is seen in storms, for he must take the rough with the smooth, and he is more noticed in bad weather, for he flies to you for shelter. Every one in a ship lying-to in a gale must have observed a cluster of these little birds, tame and cowed with the bad weather, nestled close under your lee counter. It is a mistake to say he is only or mostly seen in rough weather : take a telescope and sweep the horizon when not a breath stirs the water, and they may be discovered in all directions, independently seeking their food ; they have then no inducement to approach the ship : but let a breeze spring up,
CHAP. II. FLYING-FISH. 53
and a flock of them immediately collects in your wake and follows you for the insects, or other food, which your passage through the water has stirred up and brought to the surface. To connect this fragile little bird with the storms of the ocean was so pretty an antithesis, that we feel some apology is due to Monsieur de Buffon and others for taking the liberty to question it.
With the exception of the stormy petrel, who is not conspicuous in calms, the booby, and the beautiful tropic bird, harshly chattering far up in the sky, the dreary latitudes about the Line are almost destitute of the feathered tribe. Much has been said about the desperate case of the flying-fish, who, taking wing to avoid some monster below, is snapped up by a soaring albatross, or other ra- pacious bird. But this I have never seen, nor indeed any bird to make the attempt, so conclude that the compassionate voyagers, the more to excite our pity, have tried to prove too much. Though the flight of the flying-fish seldom appears to exceed a hundred yards, yet they have sufficient power of wing to turn at a small angle in their course.
54 PIGAFETTA. CHAP. II.
Although our vessel, from her light freight, could run dry before a heavy sea, yet she made but a very indifferent hand at beating, going bodily to leeward, and losing on every tack. Such was the baffling nature of the wind that we could make nothing of it for weeks but leeway, and a look-out was given for the coast of South America. One morning " Land on the lee-beam " was sung ; but whether really the top of a mountain, or a " cloud," or a " camel," was beyond the ken of the uninitiated. So diverse, indeed, are men's opinions in such cases, that more than one pronounced it " very like a whale." Yet, whatever it might be, no effort of persuasion could prevail upon the Captain to run down upon it ; either to Rio, or, still better, some port farther south. In the dearth of amusement on board we longed to make acquaintance with the descendants of the frolicsome giants of Pigafetta, who came dancing and singing; though it was a " canto rozzo e mal composto ;" as if any other could be expected from a giant ten palms high. But Pigafetta is nothing without Old Harris's com- ments and free translation : and as his ponderous tome is not in every one's hands, perhaps my fair
CHAP. II. PICTURE OF A PATAGONIAX. 55
readers will permit me to make an extract or two. This is a picture of a Patagonian in full dress : —
" His body was formidably painted all over, especially bis face ; here were a couple of staggs drawn, one upon each cheek, and great red circles about the eyes. His colours were otherwise mostly yellow, only his hair was done with white.* For his apparel he had the skin of a certain beast clumsily sewn together, but a beast as strange a* that that wore it : every way unaccountable. . . . He enjoyed himself very comfortably on shipboard till he happened to peep into a looking-glass. This put him into a fright that he could not easily recover from. The dismal face he saw there stared him quite out of countenance and courage, .... but no doubt the thing that appeared to him will be thought sufficient to do it, ... a pair of greate staggs with branching horns, and the flaming circles about the eyes. What hobgoblin could have a worse look than this ? " Here is a sly hit of the old anti-Catholic. " They taught these giants to
* Quaere, Did we take the hint of our hair-powder from Pata-
56 THE PATAGONIANS. CHAP. II.
say the words Jesus, Ave Maria, &c., the doing of which was (if duly considered) an act of great charity. For these giants, they say, were horribly pestered with apparitions, and so wanted a sett of proper words to bid defiance to those disturbers of their quiet and repose : and if such charms as these will do the business in Europe, there's no reason why they should not be as effectual in Brazile."
But to appreciate the charity, we should consider the sort of apparitions it rid them of.
" It must be owned that they report very strange things of horrid forms and apparitions frequently seen amongst these people — of horned daemons, with long shaggy hair, throwing out fire both before and behind."
Another extract as to their medical treatment, and I have done : —
" The practice of physic is reduced to a very narrow compass, and takes in no more than vomit- ing and phlebotomy. These two evacuations must answer all varieties of cases and purposes ; and where these won't do, the disease is incurable in that land. Their way of bleeding is to give a
•i£ '7
CHAP. II. A PATAGONIAN EMETIC. 57
good chop with some edge tool or other in the part that labours ; be it leg, or arm, or face, 'tis all one."
And this is a Patagonian emetic : —
" But though 'tis odd to use a chopping-knife instead of a lancet for letting blood, yet 'tis worse to thrust an arrow a foot and a half down the throat to procure a vomit. No doubt but this will prick the fibres, and sett a man a-reaching to some pur- pose ; and whereas they say it makes them puke very freely, and bring up a vast deal of choler and blood,- 'tis very likely to be true ; and if the point of an arrow thrust down so far did not draw blood from them, a man would be ready to question what sort of metal their insides were made of." *
Night by night, as we get on, we are reminded of the increasing distance by the new stars and constellations rising to view ; the long-remembered monsters of our celestial menagerie have mostly sunk into the insatiable deep. Most of all we miss our Bears, the great finger posts of the Northern sky. True, there are other attractions in the Southern heavens. There is a blaze of large stars
* Harris's Voyage, folio.
D 3
58 THE SOUTHERN HEAVENS. CHAP. II.
about the Cross and Ship ; but none of the new- comers equal the beauty of Orion. This, however, is made up for by those vast masses the Magellan Clouds. In some of the clear nights at sea the excessive beauty of the heavens is far beyond what a mere landsman can conceive, and what we have but few and faint glimpses of in this cloudy climate. Surely some expansion of mind must be brought about by the contemplation of these glorious evi- dences of power. Can men really believe that the t^t~ Maker of such countless worlds should consider it a matter of vital importance whether a sermon be delivered in a black gown or a white one, that our prayers are rendered WMfe acceptable
or
if accompanied by the combustion of wax\ candles ?
Those who have seen a calm, a fresh breeze, and a gale, have exhausted the variety of the sea. From Cork harbour to nearly the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope we had escaped without a gale. Stiff breezes and heavy squalls there had been, but of short duration, and the sea had never thoroughly got up. One evening the mercury suddenly plunged to 28 ; and, still continuing to fall, was at sunset
CHAP. II. A GALE. 59
but little above 27. A heavy bank of clouds re- ceived the setting sun ; and extending along the horizon on either side, the appearance was that of a vast black cloak stretched round to clasp us. " Look out for your crockery !" was the Captain's cry. " In dead-lights— down topgallant-masts — stow away all the spare hampers — in jib — brail up the spanker, and meet the breeze under double-reefed topsails." The skipper is in his foul-weather jacket, and sou'-wester hat tied under the chin ; and has taken his seat on the quarter bulwark for the rest of the night. On such occasions as these we con- gratulate ourselves on having no connexion with the sea, being merely lodgers in the ship, and in no wise responsible for what may happen. We ingloriously turn in as the breeze comes on stiff and steadily. At eleven it blew great guns. Towards the small hours there was an indescribable, unintermitting roar, with the bray of the speaking-trumpet faintly heard through it. Now and then a heavy thump, and pound, and rattle— then a screaming of the wind added to the roar, and the cry of "Starboard" or " Port " coming faintly on the ear as if the voice were a mile off.
60 A GALE. CHAP. II.
The reader has perhaps seen a pea dancing above a tobacco-pipe — kept suspended in the air by a current of wind blown through the tube ? Much the same is your condition in bed during a gale. You can't catch the mattress — it eludes you with the quaintest jerks and sinkings ; you feel dancing aloft like the pea ; the " standing berth," so miscalled, flying and bounding from under you ; and your aching bones tossing and tumbling through the livelong night. In vain with bent-up knees and well-settled elbows you wedge yourself into the narrow bedstead — a sudden dive of the ship leaves you dancing aloft as before. Oh ! the weariness of that dreary, sleepless night ; for any form of rest was impossible ; and to hear of what was doing was equally so. We were battened down, and no com- munication allowed with the deck. Towards day- light there was something less of roaring ; but the motion of the ship was increased to such awful rolls and plunges, that to stand even for a moment with- out holding firmly by something was utterly im- possible.
When day dawned broad and clear, the skipper came down to turn in, thoroughly worn and jaded.
GHAP. II. CAPE PIGEONS. 61
The 'imprisoned passengers crawled on deck, and never will the impression of that glorious scene be effaced from my mind. The ocean was tumbling about in hills of water; not thin-topped waves curling over at the summit, but vast solid masses that rose high above our stern, and seemed like to bury the good ship as she staggered along. The air was alive with birds ; and sailing over the hills were white, gray, and black albatrosses, as large as geese, with wings of twelve feet span. Nothing can exceed the ease with which these majestic birds skim over the mountainous surface of the deep, putting to shame
" the pride and ample pinion
That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Through the azure deep of air ;"
while a flock of Cape pigeons hovered about the ship as if they took it for a dovecote. These pretty little birds, as indeed all others at sea, become the more tame as the weather gets worse. One of them, conspicuous from his broken leg, followed the ship for fifteen hundred miles, during which run her daily progress was, on an average, upwards of two
62 THE MORNING AFTEK A GALE. CHAP. II.
hundred miles. Did he keep perpetually on the wing, or go to roost upon the waves at night ? In the latter case, by what instinct did he recover the vessel in the morning, then a hundred miles away ? Certain it is that he was punctual every morning at breakfast, and quite ready for the collection of fat which was daily made for him — a preference being given in consequence of his infirmity. It is a com- mon trick among sailors to throw overboard a long strip of the skin of pork, which is swallowed by the first petrel that catches it. Being, however, from its length, not easily stowed away, it is liable, as long as any remains outside the bill, to be dragged out again by another bird, who in turn is liable to be served with the same emetic ; and thus the pork will furnish an evanescent relish to a large portion of the flock.
Nor was the appearance of the ship less changed than that of the surrounding water. Of all the complicated machinery of masts, yards, and rigging, nothing now remained above the topmasts ; and we were scudding at the rate of twelve knots an hour under a close-reefed foretop-sail. It was like having gone to bed in a three-story house, and
CHAP. II. DINING AFTER A GALE. 63
finding in the morning only the first floor ; or, in- stead of a full week's washing hung out to dry, there were only three sticks, and a towel on one of them.
To stand without holding was not to be at- tempted without imminent danger ; and the un- graceful flight to leeward of those who, relying upon their "sea-legs," attempted it, furnished much amusement to the rest. It was, in truth, a scene of delightful excitement, wholly free from all sense of danger. At such a time it is gratifying to see a man eat soup. Holding his plateful in one hand — for to set it down would be to see it shot at once across the cabin — he holds on by the table with the other, having also a spoon in its grasp, and waits for a fortunate moment to convey a portion to his mouth. Precarious transit! the likelihood being just as great that he should have to drop the spoon before he has delivered the contents, or that the unexpected "weather-roll " has canted over him a larger supply from the plate than he intended. When the mouthful, being delivered, is found much too hot, the effect is even more ludicrous. Some- times, in spite of the most artful balancing, a bump
64 THE DOCTOR'S DISASTER. CHAP. II.
will come that displaces the whole party, and sends them in one general smash and scramble — masters, servants, plates, dishes, pork, soup, and all — in a heap to leeward.
Nor can I refrain in this place to mention a disaster which befel the Doctor. It has been already recorded that he was a fiddler ; and never did he play with so much unction as when the roaring of a gale rendered the music inaudible to all but himself. He was no common performer : looking, indeed, with something of contempt upon all known and familiar music. Now and then, to be sure, he would fling off a few bars of a jig or waltz, as if he cast them away unworthy of his catgut. His ordinary music was of so high an order as to be wholly unintelligible to any one but himself. It was a wailing melancholy melody, something like the screaming of an yEolian harp in a sharp thorough draught ; and when, after a time, he became excited, he screamed in unison with the notes of his fiddle.
It was on one of our most boisterous evenings that the Doctor had planted himself in the corner of the great cabin to leeward, and was wholly rap-
CHAP. II. THE DOCTOR'S DISASTER. 65
and lost in his own performance — far away indeed in the seventh heaven at least; when — whether caused by the man at the wheel failing to •' meet her" (and he was always behindhand in these appointments), or a shift of wind— so sudden and unlooked-for a bump came under the counter, that the enraptured musician was at once dislodged and hurled bodily across the cabin. To ensure a correct idea of this calamity it must be premised that he was a little man of a tenacious punctilio of movement : every step was studied, and the slightest motion of hand or foot revealed pomposity and affected grace. To say that he ever hurried him- self was wholly to misrepresent the man : to suppose that even in his boyish days he could be guilty of a hop — step — and jump, you almost felt to be impos- sible ; hence the extremity of this disaster. Flying with lifted bow and fiddle — for, true to his art, he abandoned neither — he came forcibly against the opposite corner. Here rested, firmly fixed, our cask of Madeira, and on the top of it a half-cask con- taining a pig's head in pickle, which, being an object of high expectation, was there deposited for security. At sea, especially in a transport, eatables,
THE DOCTOR'S DISASTER. CHAP. IT.
not immediately under your own eye, diminish insensibly — nobody knows how — nobody did it ; the soldiers darkly insinuate that the sailors have done it ; the sailors fling it back on the troops. The half-cask, as being of no great specific gravity, was thought to be sufficiently secured with a small spun- yarn passed round it and fastened to a nail in the bulk-head.
In the extremity of his distress, the Doctor, feel- ing the counter-roll coming, seized hold of the spun- yarn with such fingers as he had disengaged from the bow and fiddle, but it was never calculated for such an additional strain ; when the bump came the spun-yarn at once gave way, and the Doctor, accom- panied by the half-cask, was thrown again across the cabin : covered only by brown paper, the pig's head was released by the concussion, and the cask, the head, and the Doctor traversed the cabin together. Back again, and again, and again. He who had never moved without a studied grace was now reduced to the most ignoble shifts. Dodges, and feints, and capers, respectable for their agility, but utterly subversive of all dignity, were had recourse to as a matter of personal safety. At this
CHAP. II. THE DOCTOR'S DISASTER. 67
crisis a stout bony Irishwoman, who attended upon the ladies, appeared at the door with a basin of sago, which with infinite difficulty she had brought from the caboose. Now the Doctor hated women generally, calling them by the general name of " rabble ;" but of all others he most hated this woman, from her unreserve and the coarseness of her manners ; and if he had condescended to receive a favour from any one, she would have been the last he would have pitched upon to confer it. The Irishwoman, nevertheless, pitied his dangerous case ; so, settling herself fast in the doorway, and holding on by the framework, she extended the other arm, still holding the basin, to obstruct the Doctor's flight. The attempt was successful: the brawny arm of the Irishwoman brought him up at once, but the concussion canted the hot sago all over his hair and face, and in this sad condition he was forcibly hauled into the steerage.
But you can only judge of the way in which your own ship labours by watching another, should one fortunately be in sight. One moment she rides in short-lived triumph on the top of a hill of water, when a plunge takes her entirely out of sight :
68 THE NIGHT AFTER A GALE. CHAP. IT.
now her tops are altogether hidden, then she suddenly rises and with ample compensation shows you her bottom as she leans over upon the sea.
It was a dreary night after the gale. The wind had moderated, but there was a heavy sea on, and the sky was black as pitch. There was no com- fort on the wet decks: a sharp south-easter had set in, bringing up a sleety drizzle from the polar regions, and we were glad to take refuge in the Captain's cabin, never seen to such advantage as now. The door is, for a wonder, shut ; the dead lights are in ; but there is a cheery light from the suspended lamp, hanging though it does, with a tendency to the beam to leeward, as if some magnetic influence kept it out of the perpendicular. But above all comforts, a fire had been lighted, and we seem all at once to have found an old familiar friend in the midst of the deep. After all, there is no home without a fire — an open, honest, blazing English fire, with plenty of chimney-room and an unlimited command of the poker. The cabin which we have sweltered in under the Line, and hated for its villanous compound of smells, is suddenly be-
CHAP. II. THE SKIPPER'S STORIES. 69
come a trim little parlour, the table garnished with bottles and glasses, and the sense of comfort in- creased by the wind moaning through the rigging, and the sea roaring under the counter. But the barometer is rising, and we know that the heart of the gale is broken.
It is at such times as these that we get a good story from the skipper ; and the considerate air upon his features, added to a quiet intelligence of the eye, lead us to infer that we shall not expect in vain. He has, in effect, begun. He is in the " Mary," 600 tons, on the banks of Newfoundland, steering a point free nor' -west and by north half north — or " nawth" as he calls it. He would not bate you that half point for half the value of the ship. He has got through the eventful story of the " Mary " — how she sprung a leak — how the good ship was well nigh foundering, when the leak stopped by some strange agency not discovered till the vessel came into port. Taken into dock a week after, a huge codfish is found sticking in her bottom, his head and shoulders so tightly fastened in the hole that he was only released by being cut to pieces.
70 THE SKIPPER'S STORIES— CHAP. II.
Next he is in a transport with the — th regiment on board, about two degrees north of the Line. A strange sail has been hovering about them all day ; now standing towards them, then bearing away, as if the survey was unsatisfactory ; after a while wear- ing and running down on them again. She was a beautiful schooner, having the appearance of a slaver or engaged in some nefarious calling — sur- mised by a strange inference from the beauty of the shape and the man-of-war cut of her sails.
The officer in command of the troops, acting in concert with the skipper, kept all the men below, but caused them to prepare their arms, and served out a good supply of ammunition ; the decks were kept as much deserted as possible, two or three of the sailors only showing themselves at a time ; and the transport carried a press of sail, as if running in the greatest fear from the schooner. They also got up a few rusty old guns from the hold, mounted them, and charged them full of musket-balls and such pieces of old iron as they could find about the ship; but all under cover of the bulwarks, and taking care to prevent the possibility of suspicion by hiding them under sails and tarpauling. Still the
CHAP. II. A PIRATE. 71
schooner was coy — probably from suspicious appear- ances observed before their precautions began. At length she seemed to have made up her mind, squared her yards, and ran after them in earnest.
When this was observed, the troops, in their ordinary deck-dress, were brought quietly up from below, simply with their firelocks, belts, and pouches, and caused to lie down close under the weather- bulwark, the ship's course being altered so as to be most convenient for that arrangement.
When within a few hundred yards, the schooner hoisted Spanish colours, and fired a gun to bring the ship to. The British ensign was run up to the gaff-end, but no notice taken of the gun except to set a trysail, and keep her on her best point of sail- ing. Such an evident dread of being overhauled only increased the confidence of the schooner, who fired a shot, which passed through the maintop- gallant-sail. Still the ship carried on; and next time, a shot came booming over the decks just over the long-boat.
As matters were getting serious, the skipper shortened sail, and the schooner ran close alongside, ordering him to lie-to till he sent a boat on board.
72 THE SKIPPER'S STORIES- CHAP. II.
In a few minutes the two vessels were lying within fifty yards of each other, the water being smooth, and a boat with about a dozen men was lowered and pulled directly for the ship.
When the boat was within a few yards of the ship, the captain suddenly hauled his foreyard forward, luffed up, and ran close up alongside the schooner ; the signal was then given, the soldiers started up, and, resting their firelocks on the bulwark, poured a tremendous volley into the schooner's crew, who were crowded on deck. The remaining men, who had been kept below for concealment, rushed up on the poop and into the long-boat, and the whole 300 poured a destructive fire into the schooner, who was so entirely taken by surprise that she made no return whatever, either with musketry or cannon.
The confusion was excessive ; but, nevertheless, with great exertion they got her under way, and, in a few minutes, she had shot away on a wind and was out of reach of the transport's fire, leaving her boat and the twelve men to their fate. The con- tents of the rusty old guns had also been thrown into her — doubtless with some effect.
CHAP. II. THE LAUGHING PORPOISE. 73
The boat's crew, of course, surrendered at dis- cretion, and were handed over prisoners to the authorities in the colony whither the ship was bound, and they were tried for piracy, but with what result did not transpire.
After this he put on his most solemn air. " I am no believer in ghosts or supernatural appearances," said the skipper, " any more than you may be ; but a very strange thing happened in a ship I once sailed in. The captain was very fond of fishing — that is, of throwing the grains and harpoon, which he did well ; and if a fish came fairly under the martingale, he rarely, if ever, missed him. One day we had a number of porpoises come snorting round the ship, tearing about bolder than ever I saw them, and seeming to look up at the captain, as much as to say, Catch us if you can. Well, he was a spicy little fellow, and didn't like any chaffing and nonsense ; so says he, looking at them over the quarter, says he, * You'd better not tempt rne too far, for I want oil, and I don't like to be jeered at :' upon which one of them — about the biggest I ever saw — pushed his nose above water, and gave a sort of sputtering snort, just as if he'd been laugh-
74 THE SKIPPER'S STORIES- CHAP. II.
ing to himself, but couldn't hold it any longer, and was obliged to burst out.
" Well, the captain could stand a good deal some- times, but he couldn't stand being made a joke of by a porpoise ; so says he, * I '11 make you laugh on the other side of your pig's face before I've done with you. You look more like a devil than a fish, you do ! ' And then he called the second mate, and says he, ' Just bend on the line to the harpoon, and I'll strike that fellow if he comes within reach again, if he is the devil himself ! '
" Well, there was no poop in that vessel, so the captain took his stand on the quarter-boat, and had his harpoon all ready, and the line coiled free and all clear for the first porpoise that came near — but especially the big black one if possible. There he was — the mate looking at him, the man at the wheel looking at him as well as he could while mind- ing his course, and two men looking at him that were mending sails, and another man looking at him as he rigged a Scotchman on to the backstay. I was on deck too, but not looking at him con- stantly, because I was attending to the ship's course, and looking up at the sails.
CHAP. II. THE LAUGHING PORPOISE. 75
" All of a sudden somebody sung out ' Where's the captain ?' and we all looked about, and nobody could see him ; so I jumped into the boat, thinking he might be got down in her for something, but, sure enough, he wasn't there, nor the harpoon, nor the line, but only about a fathom of the end of the line that was bent on to the standing rigging. And nobody heard any splash in the water, nor saw him strike at a fish, nor fall overboard, but overboard he certainly was.
" Well, we couldn't be convinced that he was out of the ship, so we searched the cabin, and the 'tween - decks, and even the hold ; but we never saw him again.
" Well, we were very downhearted at this, and the men thought it a bad sign ; but that, of course, I knew was all nonsense. However, I took command of the ship, and brought her into Bombay, and there most of the hands left her : they never were recon- ciled to the ship after the captain disappeared, be- cause they said that every night, as sure as eight bells struck, they saw the captain standing up in the boat with the harpoon in his hand, and heard him say, ' I'll strike him if he's the devil him-
E 2
76 THE SKIPPER'S STORIES— CHAP. II.
self:' and then there was a snorting and a half- choked laughing noise in the water all round the ship, but especially under the starboard quarter, where the captain disappeared ; and this I could have sworn I heard myself often enough out of my cabin.
" Well, no good came of that ship after. We got a cargo at Bombay, and a part of it was hide?, which were put in green and badly cured ; and on the voyage home, just about the latitude and longi- tude where we lost the captain, there came such a dreadful stench through the ship that nobody could stand it. First one was taken ill, then another, and another, till at last most of the men were laid up ; so that, at last, we overhauled the hides, and they were all in a mass of rottenness ; and when the hatch was taken off, the second mate was standing looking down, and the stench that came up knocked him down as if he'd been knocked down M ith a hand- spike, and he was taken with a raging fever and died the next day, and the body was thrown over- board immediately ; and there was a shoal of por- poises tearing round the ship just like what they were when the captain disappeared, and the same
CHAP. II. THE LAUGHING PORPOISE. 77
snorting, and horse-laughing like, when the body went into the water. Now, that I heard myself: and for the truth of the story you may see the ship's log at the owners' now. We buried seven men in that voyage home, and the rest went into hospital. If we had tried to take out the hides there wouldn't have been a man left alive in a week. That ship sailed upon one more voyage, and that was her last. She was bound for Bombay again ; and a vessel spoke her just about the latitude where the captain was lost, and she was lost too ; never came into port, nor ever heard of after."
Then he is at Valparaiso, and chuckles over racy anecdotes of Spanish ladies, making you rather wish to visit that valley of Paradise. Then the mate comes down, his hairy cap glistening with dew, his pea-jacket powdered with diamonds, and a drop at his nose. He helps himself to a glass of grog, encircling the small tumbler in his ample hand till not a bit of it can be seen. Then he mixes the spirit and water — in no equal portions, if we may judge from the hearty out-gulping of the one and the tremulous dribble of the other. He even seems to find it strong, for he coughs and winks after
78 THE MATE'S STORIES— CHAP. II.
every drink, and looks at the glass, now no longer covered, as if through absence of mind he had made some little mistake in the mixture.
" Mr. Gales," said the skipper, " perhaps you will give us that story that I have heard you tell about the steward that got a strange warning. Do you recollect it ? Make yourself another glass of grog, and sit down and let's have it."
" I suppose you mean, sir, the story about that 'ere Chillip ? Well, he was a fond critter — the fondest critter I ever see ; he hadn't the heart of a mouse, and yet he was always a joking and gibing. We was agoing round the Horn in the Mary Ann, bound for Lima, and one morning, just about eight bells, we all heered somebody call out ' Chillip, Chillip ' — that was the steward's name — and then waited a bit, and then called ' Chillip, Chillip " again. Well, sure enough, we thought it was the captain calling for his breakfast ; and when he came on deck soon after, I says to him, ' Did you call the steward ? ' ' No,' says he, ' I did not want him : he's down below.' Well, just at that moment some- body called 'Chillip, Chillip' again. Well, we thought it curious ; for nobody called the steward
CHAP. II. THE FATE OF CHILLIP. 7i»
by his name except the captain, and he very sel- dom—we always called him ' Steward.'
" Your health, gentlemen. Well, we had a big black cat aboard, the savagest cat ever I see, that would fight the biggest dog, and tear him a'most to pieces. You couldn't lay a hand upon him, he was so savage.
" ' Why, what's the matter with the cat ? ' says the captain. So we looked down, and there was big Tom, as we called him, with all his hair a stand- ing on end, and his big green eyes staring as if they'd jump out of his head, and a trembling all over, and all his claws out holding on to the deck, as if he wasn't able to stand without it ; and his tail dropped lower and lower, and at last he gave a howl sich as I never heered before nor since, and then rushed down the companion and tore round the cabin — round and round, making the most frightfullest howling, and darting up at the deck and bulk-heads as if he'd have tore the ship to pieces, if he could. Well, when we'd looked down at the cat for a minute, we looked about to see what had frightened him ; and just then we heard the same voice cry « Chillip, Chillip,' just as it was
80 THE MATE'S STORIES— CHAP. II.
before ; and there was a small brown bird sitting on the davit just above us, and him it was as was calling out ' Chillip, Chillip.'
" But such a curious bird never anybody ever see before, nor nobody in the ship had ever seen such a bird. He'd got a small withered face like an old man, with a small hooked nose in the middle, and the skin was wrinkled all over his cheeks, and puckered up round his eyes, and he looked like a little old man of a hundred years old : and while we was a looking at him he cried out ' Chillip, Chillip,' just as we heard him before.
" ' Well,' says the captain, ' I've been at sea," says he, ' ever since I was ten year old, and that's two and thirty year ago, and I never see sich a bird as that ; and,' says he, ' what's more, I don't like him. But,' says he, ' he's calling Chillip, so perhaps he knows him.' And then he called the steward down the hatch, and told him to come up ; and says he, ' Steward, here's a bird a calling of you,' says he ; ' did you ever see him before ? ' And just then the bird called ' Chillip, Chillip ' again.
* Well, the steward looked at the bird, and you never see such a change as come over anybody in
CHAP. II. THE FATE OF CHILLIP. 81
your life ! He catches hold of the companion door, and holds hisself up for fear he'd fall, and gets whiter and whiter and whiter, till at last down he drops as if he was dead.
" Well, the captain has him taken forward, and put in a standing berth, where any sick men were used to be put, and put some strong stuff to his nose, and give him a glass of rum, and presently brought him to, but still very weak and ill. And says the captain to him, ' Why, what's the matter with you ? ' says he. * You bean't afraid of a bird ?' But when the steward heered him name the bird, he went off into fits again.
" We all thought this very strange, to be sure, that a bird, of all things, could frighten the cat and put the steward into fits, though the last seemed more likely than the first.
" We tried all we could to bring the steward to, but nothing seemed to rouse him. We burnt a lot of feathers under his nose, and threw cold water over him, and rubbed his temples with rum, but it was of no use ; so we let him alone for a bit, and stood looking on at him, thinking he'd perhaps come to of hisself.
E3
82 THE MATE'S STORIES— CHAP. II.
" Well, at that minute we heard the bird, just close over the gangway by the sound of his voice, calling out * Chillip, Chillip ' again ; and then the steward rose up slowly till he sat up in the berth, and he looked more like a dead man than a living one, and he says in a hollow voice, says he, ' I'm a coming — I'm a coming ! ' — and then lay down again like a corpse.
" Well, from that minute he got worse and worse ; and the captain, who was a judge of sickness, said as he thought he'd never recover ; but he never went into no more fits, but lay quite quiet and resigned like and sensible ; and the captain often asked him what ailed him to be afraid of a bird, but all he could ever get from him was, ' I know who he is — I know who he is ! ' And not a word more would he say.
" Well, the third morning after this, just after eight bells, I had been to take the steward a cup of tea, and was asking him how he felt hisself, when the voice of the bird, calling * Chillip, Chillip,' came down the hatch stronger and clearer than ever. I should have told you, gentlemen, that we never saw the bird after the first day up to that time.
" Well, when the steward heerd the bird calling,
CHAP. II. THE FATE OF CHILLIP. 83
he give a faint cry, and died right out : he never moved hand nor foot after. He was sewed up in canvas, and lowered into the sea next day, with a shot at his feet in course ; and you'd hardly believe it, but just as the captain had finished the funeral service, and the body was going overboard, the bird flew across and cried ' Chillip, Chillip,' and then flew away, and we never saw him again.
" I 'most forgot to mention that we lost the cat, and what became of him nobody ever could tell. I'm inclined to think as he went out at the starn window, which was open ; but we never saw him again in that ship, dead nor alive.
" Well, you may suppose, gentlemen, as we didn't get this out of our heads for some time ; and when we come back into the river, the captain— he'd been a rummaging into the steward's box, and found out as his mother lived down by Dockhead ; and says he to me, ' You go down to Dockhead, and tell her about her son's death, and what property he left, and she can have it ; but break it to her,' says he, ' as well as you can.'
" So I goes down to Dockhead, and I found the mother living in a decent small house, and she was
84 THE MATE'S STORIES- CHAP. II.
a widow well enough to do ; and says I, ' My ser- vice to you, ma'am : you'd a son as went to sea in the Mary Ann, hadn't you?' And says she, * Yes, I had. Have you heard anything of him?' says she : ' I hope he's well.' And says I, * I hope so too, ma'am,' says I ; 'but he's dead, and that's all about it.' Well, she didn't seem to take the news much to heart, I thought, by reason, perhaps, I broke it to her gently, as the captain told me ; and says I, ' There's his box and clothes you can send for/ ' Well,' says she, ' so I will, or perhaps come for them myself to-morrow.' And says she, ' What did he die of, if you please?' Says I, * Ma'am, he died of a bird.' ' A bird !' says she ; ' well, that's a curious death. But how was it ? ' So then I told her all about it, and described the bird as well as I could, especially his queer old-fashioned face and wrinkled pale old cheeks ; and, to be sure, when I came to that, what a change came over the old woman ! — a' most as bad as came over her son when he see the bird ; and she dropped gradually backer and backer in the chair, and I see she was going to faint. So says I, ' What can I give you ? ' And all she could say was ' Brandy, brandy.' So I
CHAP. II. THE FATE OF CHILLIP. 85
looked in the cupboard, and there was a bottle and glass ; and I poured her out one, and she drank it, and I took another myself, and then gave her one more, and that brought her to a bit. But I couldn't make nothing more out of her, she was so took aback about what I telled her about the bird. But howsomever she sent next day for the things, and was very particular about whether any papers were left behind, and such like ; but there wasn't nothing of that, that I heered of.
" A month or two after that I was a staying with a old female as is a relation of mine, down at Whitby, and I telled her all about this, as I've told it you ; and this here old female considered very much of what I telled her ; and says she, ' You may depend as that old woman and her son had been a murdering some old man, and that 'ere bird was his sperrit — that's the long and short of that.' But whether it was so or not, you know, gentlemen, I hadn't no means of ascertaining."
The mate's story was so satisfactory that we thought he might have another, which elicited an intelligent smile, as much as to say, " I do know a thing or two."
86 THE MATE'S STORIES- CHAP II.
" Just slip on deck," said the captain, looking up at the compass ; " that fellow's yawing her about now he's nobody to look after him ; and then you can come down and tell us another."
" You see, gentlemen," says the mate, when he had settled himself comfortably again, " in a sea- faring life we meet with a many rough jobs that are out of all ordinary calkillation, and what them as havn't been at sea wouldn't hardly believe. There was that ship as we fell in with in the China seas — that was a odd thing, that was.
" It was only just after daylight in the morning watch as some one sung out ' Sail ahead ! ' But it wasn't much of a sail, for there was only one mast — the foremast — standing, but a big ship agoing steadily on afore the wind, with her foretopsail set, but not hauled taut, and all flapping. Well, we see as there was no one aboard, or, if so be as there was, they didn't know how to manage her. So when we'd run down a little ahead of her, we lowered a boat, and I was one of the boat's crew as went aboard ; and as we pulled up to her, we could see nobody on deck, but only heered a dog barking ; and when we went up the side, sure enough there
CHAP. II. THE WATER-LOGGED SHIP. 87
was a poor half-starved dog a sitting upon the dead body of a man ; and when he see us he set up a dreadful howling, but still he didn't seem noways displeased to see us, but threw back his ears, though he looked dreadful melancholy and down in the mouth. But the curious thing was to see the num- bers of rats that was a running about the decks, for the ship was water-logged, and the rats was driv up from below, and obliged to shift for themselves as well as they could. Well, there was three more dead bodies lying about ; and when we come to look at them, the rats had eat most of their faces and necks, and ripped open their jackets to get at their flesh elsewheres, but the corpse as the dog was sitting upon they hadn't been able to touch; for you see the rats they lived upon the dead bodies, and the dog he lived upon the rats— so we supposed by the carcase of one on 'em a lying near him. And such rats as they were I never see — a'most as big as half-grown rabbits, and so tame that they didn't make no account of us. You see they'd been so familiar with the bodies aboard, that they looked upon us as so many sheep or cattle, or what not, as was come aboard for their live stock.
88 THE MATE'S STORIES- CHAP. II.
" Well, we tried to get into the cabin, but that was full of water, and so was everything below decks ; and there was no name upon her starn, so we couldn't make it out where the ship was from, or where bound ; and we searched the captain's pockets, but couldn't find no memorandums nor name, only a love-letter sewed up in a piece of oil- skin inside his jacket, and signed ' Sarah.' And when we was a thinking what was best to be done, whether to throw the bodies overboard or what, a voice, as seemed close to us, sung out in a curious low tone, more like a female's than a man's, ' Ship ahoy there ! what ship's that ? '
" Well, this started us a'most out of our senses ; for we couldn't see nothing, and the bodies on deck was dead we knew by reason their faces was eat : and says one of the men, ' It must be the dog,' says he : ' he've been a thinking over to hisself all he've heered, and he've been and taught hisself to speak ;' and says he to the dog, answering his hail like, * The Zenobia, 600 tons, John Shum master, of and from London, bound for Singapore with a general cargo.' But the dog made no answer to that : and while we was wondering what it could
CHAP. II. THE WATER-LOGGED SHIP. 89
be, the same kind of voice sung out again, ' Steward, glass of grog !' Well, now we knew as this couldn't be the dog, because they don't take no grog, except now and then out of a trick, or upon the stage like ; leastways they don't call for it. Then says another man, * I'm much deceived if that 'ere voice don't come out of the mainmast :' so we goes to the main- mast— that is, the stump of it — and out of the middle of the ropes and halyards that was hanging about the pins the voice comes again and says, ' Oh, sweet Polly I No higher, keep her rap full.'
" Well, we soon cast off the ropes, and what should we see but a fine gray parrot, a sitting in a kind of a nest she'd made, and looking as if there wasn't nothing the matter with her !
" To make the story short, gentlemen, we hove over the dead bodies, and left the rats to feed upon theirselves ; but we brought off the parrot and the dog, though he wouldn't leave the body till we'd taken the jacket off and laid it down in the boat for him, and then he came willing enough ; and Captain Shum he took the dog and the bird, and brought them home to his missis at Stepney, and there perhaps they're both alive now.
90 THE MATE'S STORIES— CHAP. II.
" But the curiousest thing a'most as I ever see at sea," resumed the mate, with an air of abstraction, and filling himself another glass of grog — " a'most the curiousest thing I ever see was when I was a coming home from Quebec in the old Jane — we was in the timber line then. We was about a week's sail from the land, when one day, just after we'd taken our sights, and eight bells was struck, one of the men aloft sung out as he saw a object on the lee beam, but couldn't justly make out what it was : so says the captain to me, ' You just go up with the glass and see what you can make out ;' and with that I went into the maintop, and sure enough there was something — it wasn't a boat, but looked as if somebody was a sitting upon something only a little above water ; and, as far as I could make out, it was somebody alive.
" ' Well,' said the captain, « it ain't much out of our course, so we'll run down and see what it is ; and, to be sure, the curiousest thing as it was when we come alongside of it ! It was a raft, made of spars and old timber, and two or three chests upon it, and upon one of the chests there was sitting a lady as comfortable as anything, and she rubbed her hands gently over one another, and bowed very
CHAP. II. THE RAFT. 91
politeful to the ship, and seemed noways put out ; instead of jumping up, and wringing of her hands, and tearing of her hair, and going down upon her knees, and screeching, as most on 'em do when they gets into trouble.
" So the captain he looks hard at her, and says he, « I don't half like the cut of her jib,' says he ; ' I don't think that's a human. There's a many strange things and strange sights,' says he, ' at sea ; and my opinion is as that thing ain't a human. I'm sorry as we run down upon it. It looks like a lady,' says he, ' and I've always heered that the worst of mischief comes from things like them.'
" ' Well,' says I, ' if you let me go with a couple of hands in the boat, I'll see what she's made of ; for I bean't afraid of no female whatsomever, nor no lady neither.' So says he, * You may go if you like.'
" Well, we pulled to her, and she was a woman not much more than forty, and wrapped up in beautiful cloaks and furs, and everything genteel — hat and feathers — quite the lady.
" So when we came up she took to bowing again and gently rubbing her hands ; and says she, ' How do you do, gentlemen ? ' says she ; ' I'm extremely
92 THE MATE'S STORIES— CHAP II.
obliged to you for this call,' says she ; * it's some time since I've had any visitors, but indeed the weather has been so damp lately,' says she, ' that I can't wonder at it. I hope,' says she, looking at me, * that Mrs. — my memory is so trea- cherous that really I forget your name — but your wife and family I hope are quite well ; I have in- tended to drive over for several days, but something has prevented it. Pray walk in, gentlemen, and sit down. My poor husband's not quite well, and he's asleep just now, and I don't like to wake him : but you'll take some luncheon, or a cup of chocolate ? Strange to say, neither the milkman nor the baker have called for several days, so I can offer you no bread ; but I've a very nice 'am,' says she, lifting up one of her cloaks and taking out a boy's thigh : ' you'll find it very delicate, for it's of our own curing,' says she, ' and we take great pains in feed- ing the animals. Its very nicely done about the knuckle, but I fear rather rare in the thick part. I'm sorry*, gentlemen, I can't cut you a Vauxhall slice, for our knives are indifferent, and the grinder forgets to come ; but perhaps you'll help your- selves,' says she, holding the thigh towards us. " Well, we were so taken aback with this that we
CHAP. II. THE RAFT. 93
hardly knew what to say or do ; and the lady, see- ing us hesitate, began to make apologies for her husband not appearing to welcome us ; * but,' says she, ' he's fast asleep there,' looking to a sail that was folded and laid over something.
" Well, I lifted up the sail, and there certainly was the dead body of a gentleman, perfectly cold and stiff.
" ' Take care, pray,' said the lady, ' he's a light sleeper, don't wake him ; he has had so much fatigue, a long sleep will do him good. But do take some 'am, you'll find it excellent ; I can relish nothing else.'
" While we was debating what to do, there comes up a big shark close alongside the raft, and pushed his nose a' most aboard of it, he was so bold ; and when the lady see him, she says, * Ah, that person has called frequently on my husband lately, but I have given strict orders to say that he is not at home. My own health is really so delicate that I can't attend to business, and I have no doubt his visits are in some way connected with our little embarrassments ' — making believe, you see, gentle- men, as she took the shark for a Bum.
" Well, the men wanted to pull back to the ship
94 THE RAFT. CHAP. IJ.
and leave the lady, when they see as she'd been a feeding upon her raw son. But then, you see, gen- tlemen, she had no means of cooking on him : and says I to the men, ' You and I too may come to live upon our sons, and daughters too, for all we know, and perhaps as onderdone as this one ;' and says I, ' the captain I know'll take her when he finds as she's a human ; so we'll tow the raft and all to the ship.'
" Well, to be sure, the politeness of the lady to the captain when she come aboard ! and the kind offer she made of her 'am a'most turned his sto- mach ; but says he, ' I'll take her, because she's a human, though a rummun :' and he buried the husband and the boy's 'am reg'lar.
" Well, gentlemen, this here poor fond critter got weaker and weaker and weaker, for she wouldn't eat scarcely anything when the thigh was took from her : and at last she fell into a long, sound sleep, and woke quite sensible. At first she couldn't call nothing to mind, nor where she was ; but everything got clearer and clearer, till at last she started up and give a great cry, and never spoke after. In a few hours more she died ; and the captain buried her reg'lar, as he done the husband and the 'am.
" And now, sir," said Mr. Gales to the captain,
CHAP. II. THE FLYING DUTCHMAN. 95
" I'll go on deck, if you please, for the night looks dirty. I suppose you won't tack till morning? Gentlemen, I'm obleeged to you, and wish you good night."
Then we hear him trampling over head in his heavy boots, gruffly humming a rough stave, in which only the word " Sail " can be distinguished. Presently we fall to. talk of the Flying Dutchman, how he runs into the wind's eye, and crosses your bows as if he were going free — how modern science has set up a notion of refraction to ac- count for this, when vessels far below the horizon are lifted to your level, and brought, with the wind they have, close aboard of you, till the very faces of the crew are recognised; they being all the while, perhaps, fifty miles away, and seeing nothing but sky and sea. Every one brings out his story, or his question to provoke a story. It is like the talk of ghosts round a Christmas fire, — each smiles incre- dulous, but none can resist the temptation to go on. The skipper has gathered himself up for another anecdote : he is now in one of Forbes's ships in the Mozambique, abreast of Loango — just such a night as this— pitch dark — not a star to be seen ; he is going to turn in, when
96 THE DESERTED SHIP. CHAP. II.
" Sail on the weather-beam ! close aboard !" is roared down the companion. " Port your helm — hard to port — down with it !"
" Port it is, sir, hard down," responded the man at the wheel, as we rushed on deck. There, on the top of a vast wave— hanging over us as it were, his flying jib-boom driving right at our mizen — was a black mass of a ship, ready, as it would seem, to plunge right down upon our decks, and crush us into the deep. " Starboard your helm, you blind lubbers," roared the skipper ; " keep her away, or you are right aboard of us !"
But the stranger held on — not a soul spoke or moved on his decks. Fortunately our own helm had been put down just in time ; and, coming to the wind, we ranged alongside as he passed our counter, tearing away some of the mizen rigging with his yard-arms, and staving the quarter boat against the side.
" Ship ahoy, there ! What ship's that?" shouted the captain again, but still there was no answer, nor sign of life on board, and she went on and dis- appeared in the thick darkness.
" Talk of the devil," said the skipper, " or the Dutchman, it's all one. But that's a Yankee :
CHAP. II. PORT LOUIS. 97
they're all asleep but the man at the helm, and he's barely awake. If there had been a mate on deck, he'd have asked us ' What's your longitude ?' "
On the 24th of September, three months and sixteen days from our leaving Cork harbour, it was announced to us by the captain that by ten " to- morrow," if the wind held, we should make the Isle of France. About an hour before this predicted period we came in sight of a round island, which Horsburgh compares to a haycock, and beyond this might be seen the sharp-pointed mountains of the Mauritius pointing like fingers into the sky. Port Louis is to leeward of the island, so there is a half circuit of the land to be made before you find yourself dead to leeward at the harbour's mouth. Here a bell-buoy, kept in a perpetual tinkle by the heave of the sea, is quite startling from its unex- pected and out-of-door noise. To one good lady it afforded satisfaction, as, sitting unmoved by curiosity below, she declared that now she really did believe we were near land, for she certainly heard the muffin -man.
Those who live at home at ease have but the faintest conception of the working out of a ship's
98 PORT LOUIS. CHAP. II.
reckoning, or how she finds her way across the ocean. Here were we, after a run of some 25,000 miles, baffled and driven about by every wind — seeing no land for months — yet hitting, with almost as much certainty as you would an hotel upon a well-known road, a speck upon the earth's surface, which, if accurately represented on our largest globes, would be a point scarce visible in a mi- croscope, and knowing it to be all right, though not a person in the ship had ever seen the place before.
Fetching a little way inside the harbour, we came to anchor till next morning, when the ship was to be warped close in-shore.
It is one of our happiest conditions that pain and all physical evils retain but a small hold upon the memory ; even the miseries of a long voyage almost pass from our recollection at the sight of land.
CHAP. III. SCENERY OF PORT LOUIS.
CHAPTER III.
Port Louis — Scenery — Pieter Bot — Harbour — The Ship- seer — Pamplemousses — Monsieur Jolly — Day in the Country — The Governor and his xHat — The Adjutant - General ; Anecdotes ; his Treatment of Fever — French and English Society — Law of Divorce — The Brown Boys of Monsieur Philippon.
THE scenery of Port Louis harbour is very beau- tiful of its kind, and of a character totally unlike anything in Europe. The town is nestled at the foot of an amphitheatre of rugged, oddly shaped mountains, in the centre of which rises "LaPouce," covered with wood to the very top of its thumb. In fact, thumbs and fingers convey to you an idea of the general form of the mountains in the Mau- ritius. Over the first range of hills, to the left, is seen the pointed summit of the " Pieter Bot" moun- tain, with a round detached rock upon the very apex, like a marble balanced on the top of a finger. It takes its name from an adventurous Dutchman, who, attempting the ascent, fell, and was dashed to
F 2
100 PIETER-BOT MOUNTAIN. CHAP. III.
pieces — deriving, it may be supposed, his sobriquet of "Pieter Bot" (Silly Peter) from the failure. The ascent was subsequently achieved by a party of British officers, an account of which is to be found in the * Penny Magazine.' The great diffi- culty lay in the detached rock at the top of the cone, which rather overhangs the point j but a small line with a weight attached was slung over, and with this a rope ladder hauled up, when, to the great envy and disgust of the French inhabitants, the Union-jack was planted on the summit.
You land upon the beach at Port Louis amidst a swarm of hundreds of naked black men — entirely naked, save each a small blue cotton handkerchief tightly applied. And here let me mention a true Samaritan. Hailing us as we passed the guard- house, the officer on duty informed us that his dinner was just arrived-— covers laid for four — wine and water cooled — and the new potatoes just put on the table. " Come in !" said our friend ; " I thought you might like something in this way after the voyage." This man — the really true Amphitryon — we had never seen or heard of — our very names were mutually unknown, and we had no claim
CHAP. III. THE HARBOUR. 101
upon him but the common relationship of the Bri- tish service. I am disposed to think the potatoes decided us : we fell upon them, and the exquisite little French dinner, with appetites only known to those who have been months at sea.
The harbour of Port Louis is small but secure. The two points at the narrow entrance are defended by heavy batteries, always considered too formi- dable to be attempted by our men-of-war. The works at Fort Blanc, on the right, are still kept up ; those on the other side, Les Tonneliers, are suffered to fall to decay, and the guns removed.*
On the right hand side of the town, viewed from the sea, is the mountain of Morne Fortune'e, ou which is the signal station. It was from this spot that the celebrated ship-seer, pensioned by Napo- leon, made his observations. Much has been said and written about this extraordinary man, who had undoubtedly the gift of seeing vessels at sea long before they were visible to ordinary eyes. That he was so gifted there can be no question. It has been proved by many circumstances, one only of
* They are now said to be restored, and the works put in ser- viceable condition.
102 THE SHIP-SEER. CHAP. III.
which I will mention. He one day gave notice that he had for some time observed two brigs, keeping precisely the same situation as regarded each other, but moving under sail, and with such extraordinary equality of course, that it was sup- posed the head of one must have lain close under the quarter of the other, the four masts retaining their exact distance from each other. The night set in without any other person being able to dis- cover any object whatever on the horizon ; and the astonishment of the inhabitants may be conceived when the next morning a four-masted American vessel came into the harbour. There could have been no collusion here, for such a vessel had never before been heard of ; she was the first ever built ; and the man very naturally concluded that it must have been two brigs he had observed, though unable to account for the fact of their so long remaining in close company together.
The authorities derived substantial service from this far-seeing individual, as the position of the English cruisers was noted when they considered themselves out of sight, and vessels from the har- bour were enabled to go to sea in security. The
CHAP. III. THE TOWN. 103
explanation given was, that he saw an appearance or reflection of the vessels in the sky, long before they came upon the horizon. When removed to Brest, by order of Napoleon, he at once confessed that his powers had left him with the change of climate ; and he was consequently sent back to the Isle of France.
The town of Port Louis is clean and agreeable. The houses are not crowded together even in the
most densely populated part, but generally stand
faj
apart in a small garden or court, and with profu- sion of trees and flowers about them. The banana, the bread-fruit, the palm, and other tropical trees and shrubs enliven the streets ; and some of the suburban villas are half buried amid this gorgeous vegetation. The population is much more black than white ; male blacks being, with the exception of those employed as house servants, as nearly naked as possible. European ladies are perhaps a little astonished at first ; but a very short time suffices to render the sight of the undraperied figures a matter of indifference. Their colour alone is a sort of dress.
In the centre of the panorama the Government
104 THE CHAMP DE MABS. CHAP. III.
House is a conspicuous object. It is surrounded with a broad wooden verandah, and, though a good and convenient residence, has no great pretensions to fine architecture. Immediately at the back of the town, and between it and the mountains, is the Champ de Mars, a perfectly level and nearly cir- cular plain, bounded on three sides by the rugged and singularly shaped hills. M. de la Bourdon- nais, the patriotic Governor, has a statue at the upper end ; and his name is associated with nearly every improvement of the colony. The Champ de Mars is the promenade, the drill-ground, the race- course, and in fact the place of general assembly for the inhabitants on all occasions of fetes or other public meetings. The races take place at sunset, and the ladies, instead of witnessing the sport from their carriages, send out their sofas to the course, and these are ranged three or four deep all round : this gives a peculiar feature to the scene, and also speaks well for the natural politeness and restraint of the lower orders.
The roads are everywhere good about Port Louis; and the walks, to those who, provided with umbrellas, are not afraid to face the sun as
CHAP. III. PAUL AND VIRGINIA. 105
well as the rugged woody hills, delightful. Every step calls to mind some passage of Paul and Vir- ginia, and you feel that, if that beautiful story be not true, it ought to be. But is not the old wreck of the St. Geran, which brought Virginia from France, still fixed upon the reef where she struck ? Have I not with these proper eyes seen the worm- eaten timbers ? A more apocryphal evidence of the existence of the lovers is to be found at the village of Pamplemousses, six miles from Port Louis. Thither hurry all strangers to see their graves, to meditate upon love in its pure abstraction — upon the instability of human happiness — to write verses. But, unfortunately for these pilgrims of the heart, the two little urns erected in a garden of roses do not stand over their graves — neither have they any known graves, there or elsewhere — but were erected by the modern sentimental proprietor of the grounds, a propos de rien but his own amiable feelings. The ride, however, is worth taking, for the scenery at the foot of Pieter Bot is fine, and the bota- nical garden, with its beautiful plants from all parts of the world here flourishing in the open air, and its long avenues of palms, is well deserving of a visit.
F 3
106 MONSIEUR JOLLY. CHAP. III.
The only hotel of any pretensions which Port Louis could boast of in ray time was that kept by Monsieur Jolly, a gentleman who, if he did not get rich, ought certainly from his charges to have done so. He spoke English, too, after a certain fashion, and this was the great attraction to the skippers and many Indian passengers not conversant with the French tongue. Another hotel-keeper there was, who, dying suddenly, left the field en- tirely open for Monsieur Jolly's operations. His sympathy for a friend and neighbour I happened 'to witness. Putting the pen, with which he was making out a little bill, behind his ear, he ran hastily to the door as the funeral passed. " Ah ! there goes Mars!" exclaimed Monsieur Jolly, " dam fool ! very stupid man ! he drink his sour wine, there he go ! You drink my wine all night, never get pain in your belly ! "
In addition to this source of income Mr. Jolly kept a tailoring establishment, superintended by his son, to whose care the young Prince of Madagascar was consigned with a view to his acquiring that useful calling.
A description of a day passed at a country house
CHAP. III. A BLACK GUIDE. 107
may give some notion of life in tl.is colony. I was invited to pass a few days with an English family, residing about seven miles from Port Louis, the master, by the way, being one of the most exten- sive slave-owners on the island, his stock consisting of upwards of five hundred individuals. Mounting a sorry hack, provided by Monsieur Jolly, at gun- fire in the morning, I ambled out of town round the foot of the Morne Fortunee in company with a black acting as guide and horsekeeper, and carry- ing my effects upon his head in a large tin box, the universal substitute for portmanteau or carpet-bag, as both water and insect proof. My sable friend had provided himself with a sugar-cane, about five feet long, which he used as a walking-stick, and at the same time gradually chewed up as he went along. This practice has its advantage, as well in its re- freshing effects upon the eater as affording an index to an observant eye of the distance traversed, and how much of the journey remained, by the length of the uneaten stick. A ludicrous figure my friend made at first as I pushed him a little up the hill, eating up the stick and balancing the tin as he shuffled along, and encouraging himself with the
108 HIGH LIVING. CHAP. III.
short exclamation, " Ick, ick," used by all the black men when engaged in hard work.
We ascended nearly the whole way into a de- lightful temperature, though the country did not improve in picturesque beauty. We arrived in time to partake of a sumptuous breakfast, in which curries and other highly spiced dishes held a pro- minent place, inflaming the blood at the very time it should have been the study of every one to keep it cool, and inducing a thirst to be slaked at tiffin by copious draughts of wine and water, or beer, keeping up the fever till dinner-time. After break- fast most of the men walked about the ground carrying umbrellas. Amongst the trees in the garden were the India-rubber, the tea, &c., and the enterprising proprietor had attempted to get up a peachery, by planting the trees (all standards) in a grove of large trees, so as to ensure their being shaded from the intense glare of the sun. Apples and figs were also tried, but it was under- stood that these as well as the peaches were a failure. The most acceptable present that can be made in the Mauritius is a plateful of apples, which are brought with great care from the Cape, at
CHAP. III. PORT LOUIS TEA. 109
which place the pines of the Mauritius are a very acceptable return.
An excellent dinner by lamplight, kept up with plenty of wine till rather a late hour, completed the fever of the day, and this was not diminished by having soon after dark a large iron frame on the lawn filled with chips, which were lighted into a blazing fire to attract the mosquitos, flying bugs, &c., from the house. At night the guests retired to their separate pavilions, like small summer-houses scattered about the ground, and forming, from being nearly open all round, cool and agreeable bedrooms. In the course of our evening walk the worthy pro- prietor encouraged us to pick our own souchong from one of the tea-trees, and the strong infusion was brought in after dinner. It differed little from tea made of the dried China leaves, excepting an aromatic flavour acquired from the peculiar scent of the earth in this island.
It is hard to decide what kind of diet is best in a hot climate, but, from a short experiment on that subject, I am disposed to think that plain rice, fruit, and water, produce the most agreeable feel- ings, and certainly the soundest sleep.
110 THE GOVERNOR. CHAP. III.
The Governor's country house at Reduit is a comfortable mansion, an ancient chateau, standing on high ground overlooking the sea. At this, and of course at all other tables where black servants attend, they do so with naked feet. The black coachman drives, and the footman stands behind the carriage, without the incumbrance of shoes and stockings. To procure shoes is the first act of an emancipated slave, and many a man, as he limps about in the unwonted incumbrance, must regret that, in acquiring the freedom of the will, he ha? lost that of the feet
His Excellency the Governor was a peculiarly irascible man ; but there was this advantage to his dependents — that he vented all, or nearly all, his rage upon his own hat. When an untoward event occurred, whether of a public or private nature, he took from his head the unoffending beaver and kicked it about the room till he felt relieved. From the frequent indulgence of this humour, hi* Excellency's hats were but indifferent.
But, passionate as the Governor was, his Adju- tant-general was as remarkable the other way. An instance may be given of his peculiar talent for
CHAP. HI. THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL. HI
silence. A young officer had got into a sad scrape, and the Adjutant-general was deputed to administer a severe reprimand. Appearing at the officer's window while he was at breakfast, he beckoned him out in silence, and with the sternest of countenances. The young gentleman felt that his hour was come — such a whigging lay before him that he obeyed in fear and trembling. The Colonel, linking him by the arm as if the better to secure his victim, led him at the slowest possible pace the whole length of the colonnade, then back again to his own door, where, gravely bowing, he left the barracks in the same solemn manner, and without having uttered one word from his entrance to his exit. Perhaps the old soldier was aware that there are persons who require no severer admo- nition than that afforded by their own feelings, and that in such a nature the rebukes of conscience were even more powerful than those of the Ad- jutant-general.
The eccentric reproofs of this amiable and most hospitable man afforded some good stories. A young gentleman who rather affected to be fine, and thought it a proof of being used to good
112 THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL. CHAP. III.
society to go very late to a party, was invited to an evening party at the Adjutant-general's. Com- ing in when some of the guests were beginning to think of retiring, he went to shake hands with the master of the house. " My dear fellow," said the Colonel, "you are surely not going? Well, if you must — but we are so sorry to lose you ! Good by — it is in fact getting late, and you are a sen- sible fellow to turn in early. Good by ! Good by!" and without allowing the departing guest to say a word, he fairly handed him out of the house. While upon the subject of this gentleman I may mention his somewhat peculiar practice in the cure of an incipient fever, which I found eminently suc- cessful at that time, and on a subsequent occasion at Gibraltar. Having taken my seat at his hospit- able board, with a raging headache, an unquench- able thirst, aud an entire failure of appetite, 1 asked the Colonel what he thought was best for my case. Quietly pushing a bottle of Madeira towards me, and directing a servant to place a decanter of cold water on the other side, he advised me to do what nature prompted. The dinner passed to its last course without my touching a single morsel,
CHAP. III. TREATMENT OF FEVER. 113
but, as I finished the bottles on my right and left, others were quietly supplied and no notice taken. When the cheese arrived, the Colonel turned solemnly to his black servant and said, " Apollo, tell Jupiter to send up the Devil! — take it to
Mr. , it will perhaps make him thirsty. Why
don't you keep those bottles full, as I told you ? — No, not a wineglass, a tumbler for him."
When coffee was announced, and something more than a bottle of Madeira had been consumed, my hospitable friend kindly took me by the arm and led me into a bedroom, where — horror of horrors ! — I saw a blanket on the bed.
" I thought, my dear fellow, as you are a little out of sorts, a warm bed would be comfortable" (the thermometer was at 90°, and even a sheet was an encumbrance). " There, jump into bed— let me help you off with your coat — I '11 just tuck you up warm ; and if you want anything to drink, you have only to tap on the wall, and Annette will be waiting outside. Good night — you will have a fine appe- tite for breakfast." In an hour's time, when my friend returned, I was in a state such as those who have tried a German vapour-bath can imagine ; but
114 FRENCH AND ENGLISH SOCIETY. CHAP. III.
the fever left me, and the prediction of the break- fast was fairly realized.
The French inhabitants of the Mauritius seem to keep much aloof from the English, and are grave and formal with individuals of our nation. This is our own fault, and especially that of the ladies. There cannot be anything more ridiculous, not to say dis- gusting, than the affectation of Englishwomen in our colonies — the struggle for precedence between soldiers' wives and storekeepers — whether Mrs. Deputy-assistant Commissary-general Snooks is to be invited to meet Mrs. Colonel This or Mrs. Ensign That — whether Mrs. Ordnance-store-keeper Smith or Mrs. Barrack-master Brown should have precedence. The French look on, and shrug and wonder. Not that they are without their own peculiar appreciation of rank, but it relates chiefly to old family distinctions. The pride of descent is much cherished by the descendants of the old French noblesse, who have held their land since the original settlement of the island.
In their manners the French ladies are perfect, and there is a Creole languor which agreeably softens the vivacity of their race. Their costume is
CHAP. III. FRENCH AND ENGLISH SOCIETY. 115
spotless white, and they walk to the bazaar in the early morning, or promenade at sunset, with un- covered heads — in fact, just as they are dressed in- doors, excepting the parasol. In the ball-room their white muslins, bleached by a tropical sun, and " got up " in a way to break the heart of any northern washerwoman — without colours or ornaments — and the state of full-dress only indicated by a single flower in the hair— is perfection ; and, contrasting with our fussy and blowzy countrywomen in their satins and jewellery, is certainly not in favour of the latter.
White is also the costume of the men from head to foot, though a thin coat supersedes the linen jacket in full-dress.
In their intercourse with each other there is a great deal of bonhomie amongst the French ; and this is freely extended to such English as find ad- mission among them. Yet it is remarkable that so few English officers intermarry with the Creole in- habitants. For many years after our getting pos- session of the island the greatest jealousy prevailed between the nations, and duels were not unfrequent, till put down summarily by our hat-kicking Go-
116 LAW OF DIVORCE. CHAP. III.
vernor, who, without troubling himself as to the merits of the case, sent both parties off the island.
The French married life struck me as being pe- culiarly happy : perhaps from the facility of rectify- ing a first mistake which their law of divorce admits of. There is not any occasion for running away when the release can be obtained by simply going before a magistrate, and both parties declaring their " incompatibilite d'humeur." Surely there is something revolting in a perpetual chain, which no amount of misconduct, or unfitness of temper or habits, can break. Will any man of the world say, that there would be half the immorality which now exists in society, if divorce (cheap — not the 2000 /. luxury of our present system) followed as a matter of course upon every proved case of adultery, and the seducer were saddled with the lady's maintenance for life ?
But, after all, divorces are rare. The twelve- month's consideration brings people to their senses. They often give notice to quit, but seldom go-
" Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, And often take leave, but seem loth to depart."
CHAP. III. MONSIEUR PHILIPPON. 117
For one couple who take advantage of this in- dulgence of the Code Napoleon, there are a dozen amongst ourselves living in bitter wrangling sepa- ration— neither one nor two.
Monsieur Hippolite Philippon was one of the most prosperous habitans of the Isle of France ; he owned large estates, grew abundance of sugar, had a town and a country house, and almost an army of slaves, who varied in colour from the tender browns and yellows of colonial birth, to the deepest lamp- black of Mozambique. Monsieur Philippon, if he had not quitted the doubtful regions of the certain ages, might be said to be somewhere about the frontier, and slipping placidly down that gradient — not at all by a fast train — which was to land him at the final station. In person he was square and undignified, clothed scrupulously in white linen, with an umbrageous Manilla hat resting, as it seemed, upon his shirt-collar, and this not unfre- quently surmounted by a green umbrella. But he was a good fellow, Monsieur Philippon, a bon enfant, rather inclined to conviviality, and one who, though rich, was not above being poked in the ribs and called "Philippon" by his intimates.
118 MADAME PHILIPPON. CHAP. III.
Monsieur Philippon was married,— and this, indeed, was the grand event of his life, for it raised him from being a mere planter to land him amongst the aristocracy of the island.
Madame Eudoxie Philippon was the daughter of a noble house, the length of whose name was in an inverse proportion to that of their pedigree. She was descended from a cadet of the family of 0, who came out to the colony with the celebrated De la Bourdonnais, and whose descendants had clung to the island ever since.
Madame Philippon was justly proud of her pedi- gree, and delighted to count up upon her fingers the offshoots of the colonial branch, mounting from twig to twig, till she came to Monsieur Achille d'O, who connected them with the parent stem. She delighted to talk about the O's — how they fought under the Grand Monarque, under Turenne and Francis — how an O was present wherever honour was to be gained ; and she took every pos- sible opportunity of writing herself Eudoxie Phi- lippon, nee d'O, thereby casting, perhaps uncon- sciously, a silent sarcasm upon the respectable planter her husband.
CHAP. III. M. PHILIPPON'S BROWN BOYS. 119
Notwithstanding this, Monsieur and Madame Philippon lived comfortably together, and their happiness would have been — as nearly as may be — perfect, had it not been for the occasional birth of a brown boy in the household of Monsieur Phi- lippon.
" Venus fini couchee ce matin, Madame ; p'tit garc/m si brun."
The same thing happened to Juno and other goddesses, nor were the Annettes, and Nannettes, and Jeannettes, and Lisettes, and Fanchons, without an occasional accident of the like nature. Now, a thing of this kind might once in a way have been borne. A manager may " snow brown" when he can no longer " snow white ;" but such a practice long continued would exhaust the patience of even the best-bred audience. At any rate, it made grave the countenance of Madame Philippon, nee d'O. She was observed to toss up the prominent feature of her face, and, indeed, to carry it perma- nently higher in the air than was her former wont, in the presence of Monsieur P. ; nor were tiffs unobserved, nor wranglings unsuspected, by those who curiously watched the family. Not that Ma-
120 THE BROWN BOYS CHAP. III.
dame Philippon condescended to expostulate upon a subject so entirely beneath her as a trifle of brown boys. It could not be conceived possible that a lady "nee <f O" could have noticed, even in the most cursory way, a brown boy, or, indeed, have been aware at all of the existence of such a variety of the species. And yet sometimes when alone there was a mounting of the noble and eloquent blood of the O's into Madame Philippon's cheeks, and a clutching restlessness in the nervous motions of her hands, which a fanciful bystander might as probably have referred to the head and ears of an air-drawn brown boy as to anything else.
From whatever cause it might have arisen, cer- tain it is that a coolness seemed to settle more per- manently upon the manners of Monsieur and Madame Philippon. The stately curtsies of la vieille Cour were met by a rehearsal of traditionary shrugs and antiquated grimaces : one would have thought that the worthy couple were practising for a levee of Louis le Grand.
In such cases things generally go from bad to worse. They hovered some time in that state which is " neither one nor two :" at last the interference of
CHAP. III. OF MONSIEUR PHILIPPON. 121
partial friends decided them to cut the matrimonial " painter."
By the French law, as set forth in the Code Na- poleon, any married couple making a solemn decla- ration before a magistrate of their wish to be separated on the ground of unsuitable disposition ("incompatibility (Thumeur"}, may, should they be of the same mind twelve months after such declara- tion, receive a formal release from all tie or claim upon each other ; the lady's portion being given up, and the gentleman absolved from all further claims upon bed, board, or pin-money. Both parties are then at liberty to marry again, if so disposed, either to other parties or to themselves ; and it not un- frequently happens that a couple is married again and again to each other, after an occasional brief release from the yoke.
It was about the noon of a blazing day when a carriage drove with solemn and stately pace up to the office of the chief magistrate of Port Louis, and a gentleman and lady requested the honour of an audience upon a subject of deep importance ; and the worthy magistrate bounded from his cane-bot- tomed sofa to receive the honoured persons of
122 THE BROWN BOYS CHAP. III.
Monsieur and Madame Philippon. In a few em- phatic words Monsieur Philippon explained the object of the visit — they had come to the conclusion that their humours were incompatible, and were ready to make the necessary declaration.
" Et Madame ?"
" Oui, Monsieur ! ! " — an O disdains explanation, discussion, or remark.
Never did Monsieur Philippon exert himself more successfully to play the polished cavalier than on this occasion ; and never did Madame acknowledge with more stately courtesy the homage of a punctilious attendant.
They are now happy, or at least in a fair way of being so. On that day twelvemonth they would be free as air.
It is astonishing what an effect the words " for ever" have upon our feelings, even when muttered in the most smothered way to ourselves, and when applied to our separation from the most worthless objects. Monsieur and Madame Philippon felt that the approaching separation must of necessity be final. Others separated by the same law might come together again, and very frequently did ; but
CHAP. III. OF MONSIEUR PHILIPPON. 123
it was felt that in the case of a lady n& d'O the thing was quite impossible.
The eventful day is arrived, and a dreary and melancholy household is that of Monsieur Philippon. Rumours of a break-up in the establishment have gone abroad in the compound, and the possibility of a general sale of the live stock has deepened the gloom of many a black complexion and cast a " browner horror" on the brown boys.
Monsieur is dressed with scrupulous care : his manners have an unwonted amenity. He repents ? far from it. The man may soften, but the husband — the planter — is firm as an unjointed pillar. Ma- dame is dressed for the occasion too ; gay as if for a bridal, with perhaps the slightest possible shade of tenderness typified in the flowers of her bonnet — a weakness referable, most likely, to the abigail ; but she is every inch an O. Stately as the pea- cock of Juno — nay, as Juno herself — she descends the hard stairs of the once happy home. There is nothing of hurry in her manner, though the time draws near: eleven has struck, but an O never hurries. She lingers even over the application of the close-fitting Paris kids. Monsieur Philippon is
124 THE BROWN BOYS CHAP. III.
waiting in the saloon, hat in hand: a grave but somewhat exaggerated courtesy is the character of the meeting. That he is quite prepared is evinced by a lifting of the heart-side elbow. The buttons of Madame's gloves cause a delay. " Ah ! je ne
peux pas — if he would kindly ?" Of course :
perjured he may be — faithless — unworthy, he may be called — a proprietor of brown boys he stands con- fessed ; but let no man impugn his politeness. He is a gentleman, Monsieur Philippon. " Le ban enfant Philippon" is he not called? He would button her gloves with courtesy if she were snipping his heart with scissors.
" Et c'est pour la derniere fois I "
It was true he felt it: but what then? Jea- lousies, bickerings, coldness, must have an end, and why not now ? But the gloves — there is something about the gloves that rivets the attention of Mon- sieur Philippon. He seems to know that glove after a dim fashion, for his eyes are not so good as they were, and he stoops over it to get a better view. Something like a heart with letters under- neath are worked in a dark thread, perhaps hair. He surely remembers the glove, and, if something
CHAP. III. OF MONSIEUR PHILIPPON. 125
did not hinder it, he would probably see the words " Hippolite, Eudoxie " under the heart.
It was the glove, and the hand, and the heart which he took twenty years before on his wedding- day ; and he remembered now the fashion of it as it lay on his arm coming home from church. Twenty years ago, Monsieur Philippon, that happy day ! And he pokes his head lower down towards the glove, that silly old Philippon, as if he could not tell what to make of it with his blurred and swimming eyes. Nay, for a man of his politeness, it is too much : be has dropped a tear upon the hand — a shower — he is spoiling the glove : and he raises his blubbering old face and sees Eudoxie, the woman he loved so well, looking, to his misty vision, as beautiful as ever, not a trace of stateliness in her twitching features or her moistened eyes.
Over the sill of the court-yard window had .stealthily arisen many times the upper part of the head of a brown boy down to the eyes, and then as furtively withdrawn. He has raised it once more, when, instead of crouching below the wall, he rushes out among the huts of the compound, and presently, to a humming sound, there assembles round the
126 THE BROWN BOYS CHAP. III.
partly open door a half-circle of grinning faces open to the ears. " Madame, ne vas pas ! Madame, fini rester?" buzzes about. No end of heathen deities — Junos, Minervas, Venuses (Peste ! hide away the brown boy), philosophers, heroes, poets, all crowd round, humming — " Madame, fini rester ?"
In vain Monsieur Philippon waves his hand, not a god or a goddess stirs. In vain he tries to call up a frown, or frame some harsh speech ; his tongue even refuses a goodnatured oath. It won't do : he has to do with a higher power, which has decreed that masters and slaves dance in the same round. One touch of nature pulls him down among the gods and goddesses.
Meanwhile the magistrate is anxious. lie has prepared a dissuasive speech, which has now scant time for delivery. Three quarters have struck, and no tidings of the punctual Monsieur Philippon. " If he won't give the time to lay his folly before him, he won't. I had a thing to say, but let it go ; they may part ; I trouble myself no further."
But Time did not eat his children with a livelier relish than did the good magistrate devour one by
CHAP. III. OF MONSIEUR PHILIPPON. 127
one those fifteen minutes. He has drawn gra- dually towards the door, and is slowly closing it with his eye on the clock. At the first tone of the bell he has thrown himself furiously on the door — shut it, locked, bolted, barred it — turned on his heel — closed his books — and given special direction that he is out — absolutely and entirely away from home and business, and most particularly invisible
to ; but here they are, Monsieur and Madame
Philippon, knocking lustily at the office door.
The worthy magistrate is almost sure that every clock has struck and the time is gone by, but he is afflicted with much deafness, and waits a little to make sure. He hastily runs over the heads of his dissuasive speech, which, with slight alteration, will now do to reconcile them to their fate for an- other year. He knows it will be hard, but what cannot eloquence effect? and it is his forte to sooth pain and disappointment. He has lucidly arranged his introductory observations. If he had but confidence in his clock he were safe. Mean- while Monsieur Philippon is energetic — he pounds at the door — demands an audience — calls on the worthy magistrate by name; there is no evasion
128 M. PHILIPPON'S BROWN BOYS. CHAP. III.
possible — he has nothing for it but the speech ; but what cannot eloquence effect ?
" Madame et Monsieur," began the worthy official, opening the door slowly, " if no other consi- derations would have weight with you — if the re- membrance of happy days — the ties of family — the memory of love "
"Bah!!"
" We merely came to ask you to dine with us, Monsieur le Magistral,"
In his ecstacy he is said to have very nearly cut his own throat with Monsieur Philippon's shirt- collar.
CHAP. IV. PALANQUINS. 129
CHAPTER IV.
Palanquins — Dr. MacMorough — Black Races ; Madagascar, Mozambique, and Indian — King Radama ; his Son appren- ticed to Jolly — Runaway Slaves — The Iron Collar — Mahe'- bourg — Old Dutch Settlement — Climate — Fruits — Habi- tans — The Red Cow — Lizards — Land Crabs — White Ants — Scorpions — The Cockroach a Wet-nurse — Snakes — Leaf Fly — Birds — Shells ; fishing for — Grand River S.E. — Slaves — Madame de ; Treatment of her Pigs.
THE palanquin is not much used in the Mauritius, the inhabitants preferring carriages or walking. Temporary Indian residents cling to it. Among the British, male or female, it is not popular, but there was a striking exception in the case of the head staff- surgeon, Dr. MacMorough, who in- variably used one, and that by far the best ap- pointed in the whole island. There was a remark- able dandyism about his little box : it was the best- painted, the cleanest curtained, the best fancied vehicle of the kind, and carried by four of the best- looking, the fattest, the blackest, the sleekest, and
G 3
130 DR. MACMOROUGH. CHAP. IV.
the happiest of young bearers. That the Doctor was a kind man might be taken for granted by the state of his slaves : it quite made one comfortable to see their good condition ; they could not look at you without laughing. But, somehow, the set- out was not popular. People, unused to such vehicles, felt a sort of resentment against a fat, coarse-looking Irishman, with a stern forbidding face, being carried about in this effeminate manner, when it was felt that a brisk walk in the cool morn- ing air would have done him so much more good. If he had had the smallest pretensions to ill health or delicacy, it had been a different matter : even a spare habit of body might have been received in excuse ; but opinion went strongly against the in- dulgence in such a luxury by a man of short puffy corpulence and a bloated face. The Doctor, it was suspected, knew of this feeling, for he looked particularly savage in his box ; and though he lay invariably on his back, thereby displaying disadvan- tageously (the popular feelifcg considered) the raised outline of his stomach, yet he never failed to turn his head, or at least his eyes, with something of a glare of defiance at the passers by.
CHAP. IV. THE PROCESSION. 131
This angry look of the Doctor's did him harm, for it contrasted unfavourably with the broad grins upon the bearers' faces — grins so broad, indeed, that they extended within a trifle from ear to ear.
The Doctor was a man of great punctuality in his duties ; and at a certain hour every morning, before the sun became too hot, his palanquin was to be seen moving from the Barrack-gate towards the office of the medical staff, which was nearly at the other end of the Barrack-square, and to attain which he had to pass along the whole front of the officers' quarters, and turn the corner of their build- ing before he was lost to sight behind the other range.
This procession, coming so regularly at the breathing- time of the day, just after breakfast, when men are idle and prone to congregate, came to be looked for by the little groups sitting at ease under the colonnade, and enjoying the beautiful view of La Ponce mountain "running its feathered peak into the cloudless sky. In the absence of daily papers, or a post delivery, the arrival was looked for as a prime event of the day.
132 THE MUSICIAN. CHAP. IV.
Now it so happened that at the end house of the range, which had two aspects at the corner which the Doctor was obliged to pass, there lived a gentle- man who played the violin with an indifferent, cir- cumscribed talent, relished however by his neigh- bours (as is not always the case even with eminent professors), and received with positive enthusiasm by such of the sable population as chanced to pass that way. Did the washerwoman go by with the clothes — or a black girl balancing a bottle on her head — or a man with a tin visiting box similarly situated — they one and all took up the melody, whether fast or slow, and trotted, or walked, or shuffled, as long as the fiddle was within hearing. The Government gang of scavengers, steeped as they were in villanies, were not insensible to the influence ; and even the poor fellow with the iron collar kept his spikes going in time to the music. If there had been a work going on of paving the barracks, and the men employed had carried the materials — as they infallibly would — upon their heads, our musician might with ease have achieved the triumph of Amphion.
But there were no persons who felt the stirring
CHAP. IV. THE BEARERS. 133
influence of the harmony more thoroughly than the Doctor's bearers. An Irish jig was selected for their peculiar use, as appearing most to suit their fancy, and also as being the most truly absurd and meaningless motivo perhaps ever elicited from catgut. It was one of the few pieces of cohe- rent music which our little staff surgeon on board ship had jerked from him with contemptuous elbow in a momentary abandonment of his usual dignity ; and the little castaway had been cherished for the especial benefit of Dr. Mac Morough.
No sooner did they in the distance catch ear of the melody, than, falling at once into the time, they trotted the worthy gentleman past with an energy and good will which, strange to say, did not appear to add at all to his good temper. He pro- bably felt the ridicule of his fat body being made to bound and quiver in cadence with such villanous music, subject at the same time to the unrestrained merriment of a rather large audience, and the un- measured delight of his own black boys. No doubt they were lectured ; for the gravity of their ex- pression was, after a few days, remarkable. They
134 THE ACCOMPANIMENT. CHAP. IV.
looked to the sky — to the mountains — anywhere but towards the corner house ; and yet no sooner did the soft strains steal upon their senses, than wide open flew the boxes of ivory as if by magic, and they lilted past with as much spirit as ever.
It was quite impossible that such a state of things could last, for the Doctor got more savage every day. There was no pleasing him in the time. Whether he moved fast or slow seemed much the same. The usual course was to take up the bearers' own time ; when, being once under the spell, the pace could be regulated at the pleasure of the musician. Generally he made his approach in an andante, or allegro moderate, increasing to a vivace at the corner ; when the fiddler, shifting his window, would hurry him up to his office door with a prestissimo, going near to shake him out of the box. But the most unfavourable circumstances under which he went past seemed to the bystander? that of advancing as it were to the front of the stage, and immediately opposite the audience, with a brisk movement made to die away gradually — relentando — and he moved across the scene little faster than a funeral : the effect of this latter
CHAP. IV. THE DOCTOR'S RUSE. 135
practice was much increased by a change of air to the Dead March.
One day the Doctor was missed. He came not : neither did he appear the morning after. It was the same on the third. Where could he be ? The trick was soon discovered : he had given his audi- ence a dodge inside the gate, turning short round to the right, and so along the other side of the building. But it was determined that this should not avail him.
In ample time the next morning the audience and orchestra were moved to the corresponding corner on the other side, and, not to create alarm, kept close inside the room, leaving no stragglers under the colonnade. The procession at the usual time was seen approaching. It moved at a rather fast but stealthy pace ; the object was to get un- noticed to the office. The slaves were grave to melancholy: the Doctor placidity itself; his up- turned face beaming with a calm triumph ; he looked neither to right nor left ; when suddenly, with well-rosined bow, the fiddler made a spirited plunge into the well-known melody. The effect was electric — the unexpectedness of the thing threw
136 BLACK RACES. CHAP. IV.
over all reserve. It was no longer a question of keeping time, but of standing at all ! They reeled and cackled. In vain did the Doctor stir himself and curse ; it made them worse, by raising an in- fectious roar from the premises. They could stagger no further ; so, fairly setting down the machine, they hung together, screaming. In his agony to release himself the Doctor upset the palanquin, and strug- gled out upon the grass.
The black population of the Isle of France is composed mainly of three races, each remarkably different from the others.
1. The natives of Madagascar are decidedly at the head for intelligence, industry, and energy. All the house -servants are taken from this class, as are nearly all the independent persons of colour — shop- keepers and other small traders, who have pur- chased their freedom, or come over as free settlers. Arriving in their native costume, as they frequently do in charge of cattle, they have a singularly free and independent air. They are dressed in a long piece of yellow grass-matting, with green stripes, which is wound about the wearer's body, according to his own fancy and caprice ; generally, however,
CHAP. IV. BLACK RACES. 137
finishing with the end thrown over the left shoulder, like the " embozo " of a Spanish cloak. This they frequently unwind and re-dress themselves as they go along, not without dexterity and grace. Their hair is gathered up into many knots or bunches, some as large as a man's fist.
2. The Mozambique blacks are a race very low in the scale of humanity, and employed almost entirely in field-work, or other laborious occupa- tions. They are the porters, the wharf-labourers, the scavengers of the town; and are absolutely naked, with the exception of a small blue cotton handkerchief. With a broad strap over one shoulder they drag, in gangs of eight or ten, the large two-wheeled carts, containing baskets of sugar, to and from the stores, and load the lighters. Though every team is accompanied by a driver, also black, armed with a whip, the instrument is rarely, if ever, used ; and when they stop to laugh, which occurs very frequently, the driver waits quietly till the paroxysm is over, or only seeks to shorten it by a few good-natured words. No one who has not visited this island can comprehend the extent of a black man's laugh ; it is a paroxysm, suspending
138 BLACK RACES. CHAP. IV.
all physical power ; they hold by each other, roar- ing, and not unfequently roll in a heap on the ground. Two friends meeting will each seize the other by the shoulders and lean against each other to laugh. And it appears to be spontaneous and irrespective of jokes, unless indeed they have a hidden fund of good things in their native language ready to draw upon at all times and under all circumstances. It strikes a stranger as remarkable that other passengers in the street are entirely un- moved by their boisterous hilarity, and pass gravely on without even deigning to notice the uproar. To a new-comer the effect of these laughing parties is much increased by an individual of the group wear- ing, as is frequently the case, an old cocked-hat and feather, having no other clothing whatever but his small blue handkerchief. It is the condition of this class of men that has attracted the sympathies of our fair abolitionists. The " fellow-creatures harnessed in carts like horses," has been made the most of ; forgetting that the same amount of work performed in any other way by the same men would be attended with greater labour. They would much prefer to see the sugar carried, with distress, upon
CHAP. IV. BLACK RACES. 139
a man's back, than wheeled easily in a cart, with the degrading circumstance of a strap over the shoulder, so happily characterised as a harness. The whip certainly has an ugly appearance ; but, during my short experience, I never saw it used. As for the labour, a London coalheaver does as much in one day as any black man in this island could get through in a week.
3. To the third class belong natives of India and a few Cingalese, most of whom have come over originally as convicts to the island. The breed between these women and Europeans produces a singularly handsome and graceful race, very beauti- ful, though very black, with regular features, ex- pressive black eyes, and long, straight, fine hair. To distinguish all the varieties of Creoles and class them is a science only to be attained by long resi- dence on the island.
That enlightened savage King Radama, of Ma- dagascar, encouraged the intercourse of his subjects with Europeans, and especially with his neighbours of the Isle of France. He even sent forth his son — like another Peter— to learn the arts of life, and at Port Louis he made his first experiment. The
140 RADAMA AND HIS SON. CHAP. IV.
intelligent reader will be anxious to learn which of the sciences had the honour to take off the edge of his maiden wit. He eschewed altogether the road chosen by his royal prototype above mentioned as regards shipbuilding, though not disinclined to imitate him, it is said, in the " hot pepper and brandy." Monarchs may be supposed the best judges of the requirements of their subjects ; what ships were to the Russian, pantaloons were to the Malgache. His Majesty not unnaturally thought that the first step towards civilising a naked people was to clothe them, so he bound the young prince apprentice to Monsieur Jolly, the tailor. His Royal Highness at first showed some aptitude for the busi- ness, and plied diligently enough the goose and shears, but he soon fell off into dissipated habits, till in a few months they found it expedient to send him back to court, he being pronounced totally untit for the shopboard.
As it is, the present natives of Madagascar have made a great stride in the right direction in respect of costume since Hakluyt's " Four Hollanders " visited St. Mary's, and thus described them : — " The king came aboard our pinnace to see it, and
CHAP. IV. KING RADAMA'S BAND. 141
was as blacke as a divell, with two homes made faste upon his heade ; and all his body naked, like the rest of the countrey people."
Radama was passionately fond of music — as indeed appear to be most of his countrymen — and sent over twelve boys to form a band, under the instruction of the band-master of the 82nd regi- ment, who received 200/. a-year for the under- taking. They attained considerable proficiency, when they were summoned to their own country to play the chef-cCceuvres of Mozart and Rossini in the forests of Madagascar. We may imagine the asto- nishment of a traveller at being welcomed at a native court, in an almost unknown country, by a band of half-naked savages, with some familiar overture, executed with the precision of a London or Paris orchestra. This great aptitude for music may be witnessed at all hours in the streets of Port Louis, where the airs played by the military band are taken up and whistled with extraordinary taste and accuracy by all the little black boys of the place. The regiment to which I had the honour of belong- ing was received with screams of delight on land- ing, from the number of black drummers kept up
142 TREATMENT OF THE BLACKS. CHAP. IV.
in that distinguished corps. Had Radama lived to these days we might have heard of Jenny Lind's engagement at His Majesty's Theatre, Madagascar, and her rapturous reception by the Hovas.
Though the French are usually kind-hearted to their dependants, yet much cruelty was undoubtedly practised toward the blacks by unfeeling masters, and the law of protection ought to have been ren- dered more stringent? Commanding-officers of regiments were forbidden to flog the blacks em- ployed about the barracks. They sent them to the commissariat department, with a civil message by the quartermaster-sergeant, " The colonel's compli- ments, and requests you will give these blackguards a dozen apiece, to make them more attentive."
In the case of an inveterate runaway, it was the practice to rivet round his neck a heavy iron collar, from which projected upwards two spikes, of a foot or more long, rather inclining outwards. It is well known that a black is prone to use his head as a battering-ram, whether against the body of an adversary or in plunging through the almost impe- netrable cover when he takes to the " bush." In the latter case, his progress head-foremost was im-
CHAP. IV. MAHfiBOURG. 143
possible ; yet, as running away was in no wise dimi- nished by the collar, it seems only to have had the effect of obliging them to encounter the thorny bush not head-foremost. But to work under a tropical sun with this hot iron iiicumbrance, or indeed to be unable to free themselves from it night or day, was no inconsiderable amount of torture.
Troops newly arrived are usually jsent to pass the first summer at Mahebourg, a village situated at the bottom of the bay of that name, containing a large barrack on the windward side of the island. The country is exceedingly beautiful, and the fresh sea-breeze, blowing incessantly into the bay from the boundless ocean, renders it by far the plea- santest climate on the island. From an account which I kept of the temperature, the thermometer remained with remarkable steadiness at 82° Fahrenheit, very rarely varying a degree. This, though hot, was rendered perhaps the perfection of climate by the sea-breeze. The invalids had even a cooler spot, for they were sent to a small island on the reef which stretched across the harbour's mouth, in the midst of the spray of the breakers.
The old Dutch settlement of Grand Port was
144 CLIMATE. CHAP. IV.
situated at the foot of a steep mountain on the right entering the bay; a place inconceivably ill chosen, not only as being more difficult of commu- nication with the rest of the island, but so entirely commanded from the mountain above that the place might almost have been destroyed by rolling down rocks upon it. The French, with great judg- ment, abandoned this, and fixed their settlement on the level ground between the sea and the Chaux river, where it now is. The astonishing force of a hurricane is here shown in the cracked walls of the large stone barrack, and the tradition of another of the men's barracks, capable of containing two hun- dred men, having its roof carried off bodily from the accident of leaving open one of its windows.
The unvarying beauty of this climate is quite puzzling to one who has left for the first time the foggy islands of Britain. You feel anxious to go somewhere and do something while such fine wea- ther lasts. But day after day of unclouded sky and fresh sea-breeze succeeds. Every walk affords a new pleasure ; every tree and plant is new. Car- dinals, and paroquets, and amadivids have taken the place of the homely denizens of our fields and
CHAP. IV. PRODUCTS. 145
\voods, and the chatter of a monkey occasionally startles you in your rambles. Guavas, bananas, mangoes, bread-fruit, palms, are the common gar- den-trees. Occasionally a tree-fern, one of the most graceful of plants, is met with. The long feathered leaves, which in their general character resemble the common fern-leaves of our hedges, grow in a mass upon the top of a stem thirty or forty feet high, and descend nearly to the ground. The level part of the country is highly cultivated, the principal crop being sugar-canes, round the borders of which are planted pines in such abund- ance that they are sold ordinarily at a penny or twopence apiece. The mountains, which in this island assume strange fantastic shapes, are feathered with wood to their summits. In the little glens and valleys amongst them, on the banks of some clear stream, one stumbles upon the most delicious re- treats. Almost buried amid the gorgeous vegeta- tion, away from the world and its cares, in such a climate, and with such scenery, one is tempted to exclaim —
" If there be an elysium on earth, It is this ! It is this ! "
146 ROADS — JUNGLE. CHAP. IV.
Nor are the graces of polished life wanting in these beautiful retreats. To the natural civility of the French manner, the habitcms of the island have added a' frankness and bonhomie peculiarly their own. Unlike the farmers of other countries, the Creole Frenchman is always a gentleman, and his wife and daughters, if not highly accomplished or learned, yet invariably elegant and pleasing. But they must be sought out by those who wish for their society, for they never call first upon strangers.
With the exception of that from Port Louis to Mahelxwrg, there can scarcely be said to be any roads in this part of the country ; amongst the woody hills the paths are scarcely practicable, ex- cept on foot, which, indeed, is the usual style of travelling, horses being enormously expensive, and but little used in consequence.
The thick jungle of the hills is almost impene- trable, except by those " to the manner born." The trees and shrubs are lashed together with such a cordage of creepers, some of whose stems almost rival in size those of the trees themselves, that it is absolutely impossible, without a hatchet, to make your way. Such difficulties, however, only occur
CHAP. IV. ANIMALS. 147
to the runaway negro, or the adventurous sports- man in search of deer or boar, or the still more hopeless hunt for the dodo. Seeing the impracti- cable nature of the woods through which some of the brooks force their way, I never could wholly divest myself of the hope that this curious bird may yet be found. There are places which have never yet been penetrated even by the Maroons.
Red-legged partridges are abundant among the sugar-canes ; but it is almost hopeless to attempt to get them out, and wholly so when they take to the woods. Deer are occasionally found, and wild boar. The monkeys appear all to belong to one family, and that a small-sized one. They are here, as elsewhere, rapacious, destructive, and cunning. Curious stories are told of their acting in concert to rob the plantations, forming a line and passing the fruit, or other stolen property, from hand to hand, till it reaches the depth of the wood ; on the same principle as buckets are passed at a fire.
As barrack accommodation for officers was scanty at Mahe'bourg, it was customary for two or more to join in the occupation of the wooden bungalows, pleasantly situated on a grassy bank above the sea.
H 2
148 THE RED COW. CHAP. IV.
In making my researches I chanced upon a row of deserted tenements running endwise into the bay, to which there appeared to be no owner, and cer- tainly no tenant had been in occupation for some time. It was whispered that the place was in chancery, and, whilst the claimants were waiting for a decree, it seemed to be a race between the lawyers and the white ants as to which should soonest swallow up the premises. These buildings seemed to be altogether abandoned to the insects and reptiles. It was impossible to be five minutes in the place without becoming aware, from the clicketing and grinding noises going on, that thou- sands of tiny nippers, and pincers, and augers, and saws, were at work upon the devoted timbers. But independent of the curious entomology they pre- sented, it struck me that the entire absence of a landlord, whether at quarter-day or any other time, was a decided advantage to an incoming tenant, so, trusting that the suit would last my time, I de- cided to occupy one of the houses. Choosing the most habitable, called from its colour the Red Cow, I proceeded to serve an ejectment upon the scorpions and centipedes, reserving only as com-
CHAP. IV. MY CO-TENANTS. 149
panions the lizards and white ants ; the former for their companionable qualities and fly-catching ha- bits, the latter from a wish to see what they really could do in the eating way, and how long it would take their joint-stock company to consume and digest a four-roomed house, with its shingled roof and iron-wood shutters. There were also a few musk- rats about the place, who paid their quit-rents in perfumery ; and an aged chameleon was perpetually opening his mouth upon a bamboo stem at the win- dow. I cannot say that I ever detected any de- cided change in the dress of this individual, which was invariably a sort of hoddin grey. Perhaps with his youth had departed his taste for colours ; and, as is not uncommon, from a dandy in early life, he had sunk into a sloven in old age. Out- side the house, towards the sea, there was quite a warren of land-crabs, usually sitting like rabbits at the mouths of their holes, and carefully going to earth on the approach of any danger. Some, more adventurous, might be seen further out of doors ; and their clumsy efforts to reach home, shouldering their one huge claw, were ludicrous enough. No- thing seems to come amiss to these omnivorous
150 LAND-CRABS. CHAP. IV.
creatures, who act as the sedentary scavengers of the neighbourhood. Perhaps their greatest para- dise is a churchyard near the sea, where they can enjoy the relishing hors cCceuvres handed up by the tide, with the pieces de resistance peculiar to such a locality. Some people eat them in spite of their habits. In Drake's voyage they are described " as a terrestrial sort of crawfish, which dig holes in the earth like conies ; and are so large that one of them will plentifully dine four persons." * Their senses of sight and smell are uncommonly acute, not so those of hearing or touch. No noise affects them at all. If concealed yourself, you may fire at them with a rifle without creating the least alarm in their company, though the balls may shake the ground all round.
Considering the propensities of my co-tenants at the Red Cow, I thought it imprudent to lay in any- expensive furniture. I had no notion of tickling
* It is really surprising that the early navigators should not have told greater lies than they did, considering the little chance there was of their being found out. Pigafetta takes credit to himself for admitting that in all Magellan's voyage he never saw a phoenix— a rare instance of modesty in one who introduced us to the Patagons.
CHAP. IV. WHITE ANTS. 151
the palates of my ants with expensive picture- frames, elegantly bound books, or even the more homely diet of sofas and easy-chairs. These I was convinced they would have literally "walked into" (to use an American phrase), leaving me in the course of time nothing but the shell or idea of my moveables ; I therefore contented myself with such tables as the neighbouring shutters, when stuck upon four sticks, afforded me, and the material of my solitary chair and bedstead defied destruction, except by rust.
It is curious to watch the progress of the white ants, even without seeing them. A something like the end of a small walking-stick is thrust up through the floor against the wall. Gradually it rises higher and higher, as if a stem of ivy, without leaves or branches, were crawling up your wall. It is a sort of wheal or arched passage advancing up- wards without any perceptible agency. Suddenly a branch-line is thrown out from the main trunk, having an eye perhaps to the contents of the corner cupboard. Curious to know what is the moving principle of this singular intruder, you break through the thin brown-paper-like crust of
152 WHITE ANTS. CHAP. IV.
the tunnel, and find it filled with a hurrying crowd of whity-brown insects, some with wings, some without, all intent upon the extension of the line. Arrived at the ceiling, it goes right through plank or beam that may stand in its way, or, should the engineers so will it, takes a short cut through the wall into the next apartment.
In the Isle of France they usually build their nest in trees. It looks like a huge excrescence upon the trunk, and every branch of that tree, as well as the trunk, has a covered way along it, so that, although millions may be engaged in bringing to the nest the produce of the tree or the earth beneath, yet not a single insect is seen about the place. It is this taste for living in the dark which gives them such a pale and unsunned complexion. In the course of their progress about the house, should anything peculiarly apetizing — such as a book-shelf, a box of old letters or deeds — lie in their way, they at once run their tunnel into its contents, and make use of it as a sort of half-way house till the premises are gutted, and nothing but a husk remains.
After trying in vain to banish the scorpion? 1
CHAP. IV. THE SCORPION. 153
gave up the attempt. There was always one, and no more, in a heap of manuscript music in a corner. Much has been said about their propensity to sting themselves to death when encompassed by fire ; this, however, is a theory more fanciful than true. A large china bowl or washhand-basin, with something soft at the bottom to break the fall of his tail, is a convenient stage on which to make him display himself. Under almost all circumstances in which a scorpion takes the air, his tail is curled over his back like that of a squirrel or Pome- ranian dog. He is then in a state of prepara- tion to resent an injury. His tactics are of the simplest kind, confined to striking a sort of random back-handed blow as he runs away. Insult him as you may — tweak him by the nose — poke him in the ribs — and his only response to the insult is a smart blow with his tail brought down straight behind him. He has no conception of turning and guiding his weapon upon the offender. The end of the tail resembles a chicken's claw, the nail representing the sting, which is perforated, and connected with the bag of poisonous liquid, a small portion of which is forced through the sting by the downward blow.
H 3
154 THE SCORPION. CHAP. IV.
But the animal can only strike an object at tail"? length. Even if provided with the requisite muscles, — which does not appear, — it is not to be sup- posed that a haughty little insect like this would condescend to such an ignominious form of suicide as that of flogging his own posteriors with his tail's end — an action equivalent to kicking himself out of doors, but which is the only way in which th< weapon could be brought to bear on his per.-- :,. Should he even put his tail between his legs, so that the sting might confront a nobler part, yet he has no muscular power to drive it through the well- jointed breastplate ; and his weight is insufficient to aid him if disposed to
" Play the Roman fool, and fall On his own " — tail.
Although cockroaches abounded inconveniently, it was not without pity that I saw them consigned, as they frequently were, to a living grave by a wicked- looking insect, much resembling a Spanish fly. It was impossible to witness his proceedings, com- bined with his glittering blue and green dress, with- out imagining the elfish demon of a pantomime leading an innocent victim to perpetual entombment
CHAP. IV. THE COCKROACH AND FLY. 155
in some haunted cavern. Let the cockroach be moving I^ever so briskly across the wall, he has no sooner caught sight of the fatal insect — not a quar- ter of his size — than all energy leaves him, and he stands stupidly resigned. The fly then walks up to him, looks him hard in the face, and presently, putting forth some apparatus which stands him in place of a finger and thumb, gently takes the cock- roach by the nose and leads him daintily along for a foot or two. Leaving him there, he commences a thorough examination of the neighbourhood, beat- ing the ground up and down like a well-trained setter, and, not finding what he wants, returns to the cockroach and leads him on a little farther, when the same process is gone through, sometimes for hours, till the whole wall has been examined. Chinks there are in plenty, but they do not suit him : he has taken the measure of his victim's bulk, and means to lodge him commodiously. Presently a suitable hole is found, and the fly, moving back- ward, gently pulls the cockroach after him into his last home. What horrors are perpetrated in this dark recess cannot be more than surmised. The object undoubtedly is to engage him as a wet-nurse.
156 THE COCKROACH A WET-NURSE. CHAP. IV.
No doubt the poor cockroach is bored in some part not vital, and eggs laid in him ; a purpose, indeed, for which his succulent and motherly frame seems peculiarly adapted. And not improbably, during this vicarious incubation, he is supplied with food, until the young, of whom he is pregnant, being hatched, commence, in return for his services, to " gnaw his bowels, their repast." It is in vain that during the scene above described you urge the cockroach to seek safety in flight. The poke of a stick is disregarded ; he seems dead to all hints ; nay, move him to another part of the wall, and he waits there with the same stolid indifference the return of his tormentor. Probably a sly thrust i? given him in the first meeting of noses, or some " leprous distilment" dropped in his ear; for he has entirely the air of being hocussed.
Although the Mauritius is entirely free from snakes, and, as it is said of Ireland, they would die if introduced there, yet a curious species of them abounds in a small neighbouring island — the " lie aux Serpents," an islet scarcely half a mile round. It is to all appearance a snake about 18 inches long, but, on examination, four very small feet arc
CHAP. IV. SNAKES— LIZARDS. 157
detected, two near either extremity. They are quite harmless. Let the physiologist determine how these curious creatures became inhabitants of this small isle, and no other that I can hear of — certainly none of its larger neighbours, Mauritius or Bourbon : and the nearest then is Madagascar, 800 miles distance, and dead to leeward ; so that, even if found there, they could by no possibility have reached their present abode by wind or tide.
Lizards, to whose family the above must be re- ferred, are however in abundance. From a pecu- liar pneumatic apparatus of the feet, like the house- fly, they are enabled to stand on the smoothest sur- faces, as mirrors against a wall, and also on the ceiling, their chief resort. They are an innocent and pleasing little animal, of a whity-brown colour, and encouraged in houses as the destroyers of flies and other small insects. From the ceiling of the dinner or ball room they look down confidently upon the noisiest company with their large black eyes ; but let a fly settle, and they move stealthily towards him with a shuffling and clumsy pace inci- dent to their peculiar chaussure, and dart upon him from a distance of a few inches. Sometimes, in the
158 THE LEAF-FLY. CHAP. IV.
excitement of the final spring, they forget their peculiar tenure of the ceiling and fall amongst the company.
Next to the mosquitos, the greatest plague is the flying-bug, a creature who " stinks and stings " to the full as much as his pedestrian namesake. From this abomination you are never free when sitting near a window in the cool evenings.
A curious animal is the leaf-fly, whose wings so entirely resemble the leaf on which it feeds that the narrowest scrutiny cannot detect any difference. Indeed, if the animals be deprived of leaves, they at once fasten upon and devour each other's wings. These are, no doubt, the insects mentioned in Piga- fetta's ' Voyage of Magellan * as found at the Isle of Cambalou. " In the woods of this isle they found a tree, the leaves of which, as soon as they fall to the ground, do move from place to place as if they were alive. They resemble mulberry-leaves, and on the sides of them are certain fibres produced that seem like little eggs. If they are cut or broken there 's nothing like blood comes forth ; but if they are touched they suddenly spring away. This Pigafetta tried keeping one of these leaf-
CHAP. IV. BIRDS. 159
animals in a dish for eight days." — Harris's Voyage, i. p. 17.
There is no great variety of birds in the Mau- ritius ; the best known and most familiar is the martin (though not of the hirundo family). He is something larger than a blackbird, and pied like a magpie. He is the household bird of the island — the robin-redbreast of the colonists. The Dutch, with their niggardly policy, proscribed this bird, and set a price upon his head, grudging him the small board he extracted from their fruit ; but they found to their cost that insects increased to a more ruinous extent as the martins disappeared, and the law was repealed. He is a lively, chattering, singing, beautiful bird, the life and spirit of the island, where all other birds are songless. Not that he is a first-rate artiste, his performance being more that of an amateur of fair average powers, and whose joyous spirits lead him to break off with a laugh in the midst of the performance. When the French garrison marched out of Port Louis, on the island being given up to our forces in 1810, they pointed triumphantly to their eagles and said, "• Mais vous n'avez pas pris nos petits martins ! "
160 SHELLS. CHAP. IV.
The cardinal, though scarcely larger than a bullfinch, is conspicuous for his bright scarlet plumage, flitting about in the dark-green jungle, and there are several beautiful species of amadivids, which from their feeding on seeds are easily kept, and sold in great numbers in the bazaar. There are small green paroquets, but no parrots.
Mahebourg is celebrated for its shells. A short walk along the beach enables the hermit crab to suit himself with a house of any required colour, shape, or dimensions. The choice is from Bethnal Green to Belgravia, as his fancy may incline him to a univalve, bivalve, or multivalve place of re- sidence. Ornamental villas in harps and olives he may find in plenty, or a cottage in a cowry ; and, with a little looking out, may even suit himself with handsome apartments, including partial board upon the late occupant.
But the shell-collector goes farther afield in his choice. He fishes for his shells to catch the living specimens. Provided with a line some hundred yards in length, from which depend shorter lines, like an Irish " spiller," he betakes himself to the edge of the reef at night, and shoots his spiller
CHAP. IV. GRAND RIVER. 161
just within the broken water. To each of the shorter lines is attached a small piece of fish as a bait, which being sucked in by the shell-fish, they are pulled up without a hook. The value of a shell depends less on its beauty than its unusual colour. For a black olive in the possession of a French collector I have heard that three hundred dollars have been refused.
Grand River South-East, another station for troops within a few hours' sail of Mahebourg, is a very beautiful spot. The officers' quarters stand on a green bank above the river, looking across to the curiously shaped Bamboo Mountains, feathered with wood up to the summits of their sharpest peaks. Behind is the jungle.
This windward coast of the island is favourable for boating from the steady strong breeze blowing upon it ; but a garrison order prohibits this amuse- ment in consequence of a melancholy accident which once occurred.
An officer and his servant had pulled out in a .small boat to one of the neghbouring islands to fish for shells, and on their return it is supposed that one of the oars broke. The currents in the neigh-
162 SLAVE-TRADE. CHAP. IV.
bourhood are extremely powerful, and it is supposed that, being unable to make head against the tide, they were swept away to leeward, and perished miserably. Once past the island there was no hope, for the current would be aided by the never- changing wind, and the nearest coast — Madagascar — is eight hundred miles distant. No vessels attempt to beat up to the Mauritius from the lee- ward, but make a long circuit to catch the trade wind, so their chance of being picked up was small indeed. Without provisions or water, what must have been their sufferings upon this calm and sunny sea!
On the coast between Mahebourg and Grand River nature has exhibited her caprice in the Mont du Chat ; on the summit of which is an enormous cat couchant, with a kitten on an adjoining peak.
I have refrained from entering upon the vexed question of the Slave-trade, being disposed to steer equally clear of the acrimony on the one side and the cant on the other. But I may be permitted to say that, while the immediate and unconditional abolition of slavery was a decided disadvantage to the black from his want of energy and power of
CHAP. IV. MADAME DE . 163
taking care of himself, yet it was a disgrace to this country that a more rigorous supervision had not been exercised over the condition of the slaves, especially such as were known to be in the power of cruel and unfeeling masters. It seemed to be a pretty general opinion that the crudest of owners were old women, and those who had been slaves themselves. One instance of the former was no- torious at Mahebourg. In the immediate neigh- bourhood of that village there resided a Madame
de , I forget her name — a rich, avaricious,
high-born, cruel old lady. She had a fine estate, beautifully situated on high ground, overlooking the bay ; it was in the highest state of cultivation, and she owned some hundreds of slaves, who, meet them where you might, could be at once dis- tinguished by the prominence of their ribs and vertebrae, the haggard melancholy of their looks, and, not unfrequently, by the wheals on their backs. The whole country rang with stories of her cruelties, perpetrated in secret floggings, in which the old fiend gloated over the agonies of her victims, and sometimes condescended, it .was said, to operate herself.
164 MADAME DE 'S PIGS. CHAP. IV.
But her cruelty was not wholly confined to the human portion of her stock. If I were to outlive the united ages of Parr and Jenkins I should never forget her pigs.
Returning one evening from a walk near her house, our attention was attracted to a distant en- closure (not unlike a large pound) in the corner of a field, from whence arose a combined noise of screams, yells, grunts, or groans, which it was im- possible to refer to any kind of animals — human or other — with which we were acquainted. Running to the place, we found in a stockade of twenty yards square, and with palings about ten feet high, some fifteen or twenty pigs apparently occupied in tear- ing each other to pieces. But such pigs ! To the reader of civilized Europe it has rarely occurred to see even