CHAPTER VI.

TO HAVANA AND AFTER.

This seems to be an appropriate place for noticing how, at less cost,

the Frenchmen fared so much better than in any sailing ship I have ever

been in. The Board of Trade scale of provisions for the Mercantile

Marine must strike every landsman as being a most absurd compilation. On

four days of the week each man is entitled to one and a half pounds of

salt beef, including bone, accompanied by half a pound of flour, except

on Saturdays, when half a pint of rice _may_ be given, or nothing. The

other three days each bring one and a quarter pounds of salt pork and

one-third of a pint of split peas. Every day there is an allowance _per

capita_ of one pound of bread (biscuit), an eighth of an ounce of tea,

half an ounce of coffee, and three quarts of water; and each week twelve

ounces of sugar and half a pint of vinegar is allowed per man.

What scope is there here for any variety or skill in cookery? Even

supposing that the beef and pork were in any way comparable with the

same articles on shore--which they cannot be in the nature of

things--such a diet must soon become infernally monotonous. But the very

best ship's beef and pork is not nice; the second best is nasty; and

what will pass an inspector, is often utterly unfit for men to live upon

entirely for any length of time, while it would be considered loathsome

ashore. And what can be done with half a pound of flour? Lacking

_anything_ else, except a few hops, obviously the best thing to do is to

make bread, which is a little more palatable than the flinty outrage on

the name of food that is called ship's biscuit. What is usually done is

to make "duff." This is really boiled bread, with the addition of some

skimmed grease from the coppers in which the meat is boiled. As an act

of grace, but by no means of necessity, a pannikin (pint) of molasses is

doled out for all hands on duff days, but the crew are not allowed to

forget that they have no claim to this dainty by Act of Parliament.

On pork days pea-soup is made, or "yellow broth," as sailors call it.

But pease and water with a flavouring of pork (not too much lest the

soup become uneatable from salt) needs a stretch of courtesy to be

called soup. A little, very little, addition of vegetables would make it

palatable, but "'tis not i' the bond." And even if so, do you think,

reader, you would feel contented with fat pork and pea-soup for dinner

three times a week for four months on end? For breakfast and supper

(tea) there is biscuit and beef, or biscuit and pork, washed down with

the result of the modicum of coffee or tea. And that is all. For very

shame's sake, a minority of shipowners do provide a few extras: such as

butter, an occasional mess of tinned meat, and a few preserved potatoes

and pickles. But these are the exception and not the rule. Moreover,

whenever these additional helps are given, the men are always reminded

that they have no right to them, that no owner need give anything more

than the bare pound and pint of the Board of Trade scale.

Contrast this with our living on board the Bordeaux barque _Potosi_. In

the first place the bread, which was in large puffy cakes, became, under

the slightest moisture, as easy to eat and as palatable as baker's

bread. This alone was an enormous boon. Breakfast, which, like all other

meals, was taken by all hands at once, was hardly a meal in our sense of

the term. It was only a cup of coffee (exceedingly good), some bread,

and about a gill of cognac. Luncheon at noon consisted of half a pound

of meat, free of bone, and some preparation of vegetables, bread, and

half a pint of wine. Dinner at four p. m. was a grand affair. The

changes were rung upon haricot beans, lentils, vermicelli, macaroni, and

such legumes cooked with meat and flavoured so that the smell was

intensely appetizing. Bread, and half pint of wine. And there was

abundance, but no waste. Yet I am persuaded that the cost was much less

than that of our authorized scale of provisions, about which it is

difficult to speak with patience. It will, I think, be admitted that

where men are shut up to a life of such monotony as the seaman's calling

must necessarily be, their food ought at least to have some

consideration. The meal-hours form almost the only breaks in the day's

sameness, and if the food be poor in quality and without variety, it is

bound to engender bad feeling and a hatred of those of whose fault it is

the outcome. This by way of apology for such a lengthy dwelling upon the

subject, if any be needed, though I have always felt that its importance

is great enough to merit much more attention than it commonly receives.

We had a very pleasant passage. The barque was a wonderfully handy

vessel, and her equipment was so good that it excited the wondering

admiration of all our men. The discipline was quite naval in its

character, and the day's duties went on with the regularity of

clockwork. Of course we could not understand the language, and were, in

consequence, unable to know whether there was the same amount of

grumbling commentary forward, upon the sayings and doings of the

officers, as is almost universal in British ships, with the exception of

"Blue-noses" (Canadian vessels). But it was admitted by all of us that

the crew seemed well content and heartily willing, and that she was

indeed a model ship. My scanty knowledge of Spanish came in useful, for

the captain spoke that language about as well as I did. On his

discovering this fact he sent for me, and, by dint of patience,

succeeded in learning from me such facts as he wished to know, rewarding

me with many a tit-bit from his table, as well as some very useful gifts

of clothing, which, as I was almost naked, were most acceptable.

Arriving at Havana, we were handed over to the British consul, leaving

the friendly Frenchmen with much regret and three hearty cheers, which

they returned with interest _a la Francaise_. We were no sooner clear of

her than they began to get under way again, and, by the time we were on

the wharf, she was once more heading for home. By the orders of the

consul we were marched up to a "fonda," or eating house, facing the

Plaza de Armas, which we understood was to be our home during our stay.

A plentiful meal was set before us, but we did not appreciate it much,

every dish being saturated with the flavour of garlic. But as two

bottles of wine were apportioned to each individual, the meal was a

merry one, all hands declaring that bread and wine would suit them down

to the ground. A bundle of cigars were distributed by a

benevolent-looking old stranger, who introduced himself as the

shipping-master, and spoke excellent American, being, as he informed us,

a native of New Orleans.

After a smoke, we were conducted to a large paved room at the back of

the premises, which was simply furnished with a couple of huge tables

and sundry benches, and had in one corner an unprotected well. Here we

were told we must spread such bedding as we had, and make ourselves as

comfortable as we could, until our proper dormitory was vacated by the

recruiting party that at present occupied it. The said party were by no

means an inviting crowd. They swarmed about the big chamber we were in,

looking fit for any villainy, and ostentatiously displaying their

vicious-looking bowie-knives. All our fellows had been deprived of their

sheath-knives upon first coming ashore, under the plea that the

carrying of weapons was unlawful, though we were the only unarmed

people I saw in the city during my stay. However, we had no choice of

quarters, so we proceeded to spread such ragged blankets as we possessed

upon the flagstones against one of the bare walls, and in due time

ranged ourselves thereon. Owing, I suppose, to the unusual quantity of

wine they had drunk, all our men were soon asleep, and when some one

took away the smoky kerosene lamp, the place was pitchy dark, except

where the silver bars of moonlight, streaming through the unglazed holes

in the walls, divided the blackness into rigid sections. I could not

sleep. The novelty of the situation, the strange smells, and an

indefinable fear of that truculent crowd of armed men, kept all my

senses at highest tension. There was no door, and, through the opening

in the wall, dark shapes of men came and went softly on Heaven knows

what errands. I had reached a condition of mind when I felt as if I must

scream to relieve my pent-up feelings, when I saw some figures bending

over my sleeping shipmates as if searching for something. By this time

my eyes had become able to distinguish objects in the surrounding gloom,

and I found that there were at least twenty men in the place.

Terribly frightened, and hardly knowing what I did, I roused the

carpenter, by whose side I lay, and whispered hoarsely in his ear what I

had seen. The word was passed along, and in a few minutes we were all

afoot and straggling out into the moonlight-flooded courtyard. There we

stood like a flock of startled sheep, irresolute what to do. But some

of the knife-carrying gentry emerged after us, and began whetting their

weapons on the blocks of stone laying about--portions of a ruined wall.

This significant hint decided us, and we passed out into the silent

street, feeling to the full that we were strangers in a strange land.

Lights of any kind there were none, and the intense brilliance of the

moon cast shadows as solid as does the electric glare. A few yards of

uncertain wandering, and we were lost. There seemed to be no one about,

and yet I could have sworn I saw dark shapes gliding along in the inky

shadows. And presently I fell headlong over something in the road, my

outstretched hands striking with a splash into a pool of mud. A cold

thrill ran along my spine when I found I was lying across a corpse, and

that the sticky paste on my hands was red. We quickened our steps after

that, keeping in the middle of the streets, but as ignorant of our

direction, or our purpose, as if we had been a herd of swine devoid of

instinct. At last, from sheer weariness, we sat down upon the steps of

some large building, and drooped our heads. As if he had risen from the

ground, a "vigilante" (watchman) appeared, bearing a short spear, from

the upper third of which dangled a lantern. "Vamos, perros!" he growled,

prodding those nearest to him into instant wakefulness. No one needed a

translation, or a second bidding to "Begone, dogs!" So we tramped

wearily along, our bare feet bruised by the littering stones. As often

as we dropped for a brief rest, one of those ubiquitous serenos moved us

on again to the same monotonous epithet of contempt. I often think what

a queer-looking procession we must have been. My only garments were a

flannel singlet and a pair of canvas trousers, so stiff that they

creaked woodenly as I trotted along. Cap or boots I had none. The rest

were in much the same plight, though none were quite so naked as me.

Going along a narrow lane, whereof I read the title, "Aguacalle," on a

building at the corner, I slipped off the hummocky sidewalk into a

slough of soft slush up to my armpits, and was dragged out by my next

friend with a new covering of such evil odour that I had to keep a

respectful distance from my companions thenceforth. Finally we emerged

upon what seemed to be a wide common or piece of waste ground. Here at

last we were permitted to squat unmolested. Fear of scorpions,

centipedes, and snakes, kept me from sleep; but all my companions lay

sound in strange attitudes, under the full glare of the moon, while I

watched, wondering if the night would ever end. At the first glimmer of

dawn I aroused my companions, who were all reeking with dew, and we made

for the streets again, going as straight back to our lodgings as if we

knew the road. When we entered, the warriors had all gone. No one

belonging to the establishment was astir, so we cast ourselves down on

our rags and slept like stones until roused at eight o'clock by the

servants. Until eleven we dozed on the benches, or in whatever corners

we could find, when a plentiful breakfast revived us in spite of the

garlic.

After our meal the vice-consul paid us a visit. He listened gravely to

our complaints of the accommodation we had found. Then he invited us to

accompany him to the consul's office. On our arrival all hands were

shown into a large, bare room, while I was called upstairs to undergo a

searching cross-examination by the consul as to what clothes the men had

saved, the incidents of the shipwreck, etc. I suppose he thought that so

young a boy would be more likely to tell a true tale than those artful

rogues of sailors, as he seemed to regard them. He was not at all kind

or sympathetic: that was no part of his business, I suppose; but as he

was writing an order upon a slop-seller for some clothing for us, a

handsome young lieutenant from an English man-o'-war came in. His eyes

fastened upon me at once, and, after a hurried question or two of the

consul, he came to me and spoke pitifully, giving me two dollars out of

his pocket as a solid token of his sympathy. Then the consul had all

hands in and harangued them, telling them to be sure and keep sober

(which, as they were penniless, was rather uncalled-for advice), and by

no means to stray away from the immediate vicinity of the

shipping-office. They would be sure to get a ship in a day or two, he

said. Dismissing us with a curt good-day, he retired, while we followed

the vice-consul to the clothier's. Here the men received each a rig-out

of cheap garments, but I was treated much better; why, I do not know.

After all the men had been served and had returned to our lodging, I was

furnished with quite a nice suit of clothes, with good underclothing,

patent leather shoes, and broad-brimmed Panama hat. A brilliant red

silk sash was given me by the shopkeeper as a present, and, thus

glorified, I felt quite transformed. With many cautions as to my

behaviour, the official bade me good-day, and I was left to my own

devices. And then began one of the strangest experiences of my life.

Wherever I went, people looked kindly at me, and spoke to me as if they

were interested in me. I entered into shop after shop to spend some of

my money, but found it impossible, for the shopkeepers insisted upon

giving me what I asked for without payment, and often added to my store

of cash besides. When at last I returned to the fonda, I was loaded with

cigars, fruit, pastry, and all sorts of odds-and-ends, so that my

shipmates were loud in their welcomes. By nightfall we were all in a

very contented condition of mind, and, when the landlord politely

requested me to inform my friends that our sleeping apartment was

prepared, we felt that our comfort was complete. But our joy had a

tremendous setback when we were shown the said bedroom. It was a long

lean-to shed erected against an ancient wall of rubble that had never

known contact with a whitewash brush. The floor was of dried mud. Along

the centre of its whole length ran an open ditch, which carried in a

sluggish stream all the sewage of the house. On either side of this foul

_cloaca_ were ranged "charpoys," a sort of exaggerated camp-stool, which

constituted the entire furnishing of this primitive bed-chamber. It was

well ventilated, although there were no windows, for daylight was

visible in many places through gaps in the boarding of the outer wall

and roof. Many and vigorous were the comments passed upon the filthy

hole, but there was no suggestion of raising any complaint, as all felt

that it would be useless, and, at any rate, the place was our own, and

we could barricade the door. So spreading our blankets upon the

charpoys, we turned in, and were soon oblivious of all our surroundings.

Next day, in the course of my wanderings, I entered the fine billiard

room of the Hotel St. Isabel and chummed up with the marker. I was well

acquainted with the game, having learned how to mark in one of the

strange by-paths of my nomad life before going to sea. And this

knowledge now came in usefully, for the marker was a one-armed man who

was often sorely bothered by the management of his three tables,

especially when the players were lively American and English skippers. I

was made heartily welcome, being helpful, in a double sense, from my

knowledge of Spanish as well as my acquaintance with the game. From that

time forward the "Fonda del buen gusto" saw little of me, and that

little at uncertain intervals. I had a comfortable chamber, the best

fare the hotel afforded, while as for money, the customers supplied me

so liberally that my pockets were always full. As I could not spend it,

most of it found its way to my shipmates, for I never came across one

without handing some of it over. The idea of saving any never dawned

upon me, and, when all my old shipmates were gone afloat again, I could

always manage to find some English-speaking mariners to whom I was

welcome company for a ramble round town.

The time flew by on golden wings. All my former miseries were forgotten

in my present luxurious life, and I blossomed into that hateful thing,

an impudent boy uncontrolled by anybody, and possessing all the swagger

and assurance of a man. Such as I was, however, I attracted the

attention of a gentleman who held a most important post under government

as a civil engineer. He was a fairly constant visitor at the hotel when

in Havana, and our acquaintance ripened into a strong desire on his part

to adopt me, and save me from the ruin he could see awaited me. His only

son, a young man of three-and-twenty, was his assistant, the two being

more like brothers than parent and child. Having made up his mind, he

fitted me out with an elegant suit of clothes made to his liking, and

one day took me in his carriage to see the consul and arrange matters.

To his intense surprise and disgust the consul flatly refused to

sanction the affair, telling him that he was responsible for my return

to England, and that, as I had admitted that my father was alive, any

inquiry after me, which resulted in the discovery that I had been

allowed to remain in Cuba without my parent's consent, would make

matters very unpleasant for him. All attempts on Mr. D.'s part to shake

this decision were fruitless. The consul refused to discuss the matter

further, and closed the conversation by warning me that I was liable to

severe punishment for absenting myself so long from the home (?) where

he had placed me. What I felt I cannot describe. Mr. D., with a deeply

dejected face, bade me good-bye, his duties calling him into the

interior next day. He gave me twenty-five dollars as a parting present,

and advised me to get a ship as soon as possible for home. It may

readily be imagined that I had no hankering after the sea again. The

pleasant, aimless life I had been leading, the inordinate petting and

luxury I had grown accustomed to, had made me look upon ship-life with

unutterable loathing, and I secretly determined that if I could avoid it

I would never go to sea any more.

About this time a terrible epidemic of yellow fever set in. So great was

its virulence, that even the never-ending warfare between the royalists

and insurgents slowed down, and instead of a ragged regiment of wastrels

being despatched into the mountains about twice a week, the authorities

were hard put to it to collect recruits at all. The great bell of the

cathedral tolled unceasingly. All night long the rumble of the waggons

over the uneven causeways sounded like subdued thunder, as they passed

from house to house collecting the corpses of the victims. The harbour

was crowded with vessels denuded of their crews, and from every masthead

flew the hateful yellow flag. It was heart-breaking to see and hear the

agony of the sailors being taken ashore to hospital. They knew full well

that there was hardly a glimmer of hope that they would return. The

Chinese, who acted as nurses, were destitute of any feeling of humanity,

and the doctors were worked to death. The nuns, who gave their lives

nobly, could do little but minister such ghostly comfort as they knew

how; but the net result of the hospital treatment was, with hardly an

exception, death. Yet, in spite of the scourge, and general paralysis of

trade in consequence, life, as far as I could see, went on much the same

as ever. The inhabitants seemed determined to put a brave air on,

whatever their inner feelings might be, and I declare that I saw very

little to frighten me. One can get used to anything, especially when one

has not learned to think. Several weeks passed away, and I was still

free, though not quite so flush of money, for the customers at the hotel

were necessarily fewer.

One day I was taking a stroll down by the deserted wharves, when I

noticed a peculiar glow in the sky. It came from the heart of a gigantic

cloud that draped half the heavens, and seemed as if it hid hell behind

it. Fascinated by the sight, though my heart thumped furiously, I waited

on the wharf and watched its development. The cloud spread until the

whole dome was covered in by it, and the fierce glare took a strange

greenish tinge. All around the edge of the darkness ran an incessant

tangle of vari-coloured lightnings, and a continual rumble of thunder

seemed to make the earth vibrate. Suddenly the storm burst. Jamming

myself into a corner between some posts, whence I felt sure no wind

could dislodge me, I waited and watched. For the first few minutes I

thought I should have died of fright. Torrents of water, like the fall

of a sea, were lashed into foam as they fell, and all torn into gleaming

fragments by innumerable flashes flying in every conceivable direction.

An overpowering smell like burning sulphur pervaded all. As for the

wind, its force must have been frightful, judging from its effect upon

the shipping and houses; but where I stood only a very strong gale could

be felt, such as no seaman would think extraordinary. This lasted about

an hour (but I cannot say much for time), and then the rain ceased. What

a scene of horror the bay presented! Vessels of all kinds drifted

aimlessly about, wrecking each other, and covering the boiling maeelstrom

of the harbour with their _debris_. Overhead a louder roar occasionally

made me look up to catch sight of a flying roof like a cloud fragment

fleeting through the murky air. A large Yankee schooner was torn from

her anchors, and lifted on to a ledge beneath the Moro Castle, which

jutted out of the perpendicular cliff about a hundred feet above

high-water mark. There she remained upright, with her bottom stove in

like Columbus's egg. Of all the vessels in the harbour, the only ones

that survived without serious damage were the warships, which, with

topmasts housed and cables veered out to the clinch, were all steaming

full speed ahead, and, even then, hardly easing the tremendous strain on

the latter.

Taking advantage of a lull I emerged from my corner, drenched to the

skin, of course, and so cramped from my long crookedness, that at first

I could hardly feel my feet. As hurriedly as I could I made my way

towards the hotel, finding the roadways almost blocked with ruins. The

hotel had escaped much damage, and I was received with open arms, soon

forgetting all my fears in a good meal and cheerful talk. In spite of

the havoc it had made, the general feeling was one of thankfulness, it

being taken for granted that the hurricane would be found to have swept

away the far more dreaded "Yellow Jack." And this was literally true,

for not a single fresh case was reported from that day forward. Business

revived with a bound, for there was much work to do everywhere,

shipwrights especially commanding almost any wages they liked to ask.

About a week after the hurricane, I was standing watching the transport

of a huge steam-launch over an isthmus to the dockyard, when I felt a

hand on my shoulder. Turning sharply, I saw the yellow visage of the

vice-consul, who was accompanied by a man in uniform, to whom he gave me

in charge. I was fairly caught, and without further delay, in spite of

my vehement protestations, I was put into a boat and taken on board a

large barque, the _Sea Gem_ of St. Andrews, N. S. The captain, a

kindly-looking old gentleman, heard my impudent remarks in amused

silence, until he thought I had gone far enough. Then he stopped me with

a quiet, "That'll do, my lad, you don't want a rope's-ending, I'm sure."

I had not lost all sense, so I pocketed my grievance and crept sullenly

forward.

The Log of a Sea-Waif: Being Recollections of the First Four Years of My Sea Life · 第 6 / 29 章