When these dreadful scenes were over, Don Rafael took me aside with
the pleasant news that the time for my liberation was indeed arrived.
He handed me one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which wore my share
of the proceeds of our lawful fishing. "Take the money," said Rafael,
with a good deal of feeling; "take it, young man, with _perfect_
confidence;--_there is no blood on it!_"
My preparations for departure were quickly made, as Bachicha was in
the cove with his craft ready to take me to the mainland. I bade a
hasty adieu to the gang; and perhaps it is rare that any one ever
abandoned the companions of several months' intimacy with so little
pain. Rafael's solicitude for my character touched me. He had done all
in his power to preserve my self-respect, and I was, therefore, well
disposed to regard the good counsel he gave me at parting, and to
believe in his sincerity when he pictured a bright future, and
contrasted it with his own desolation and remorse.
"I have recommended you, _hijo mio_, to a friend in Regla, on the
opposite side of the harbor at Havana, who will take care of you. He
is a _paisano_ of ours. Take these additional ten ounces, which are
the fruit of honest labor. They will help you to appear properly in
Havana; so that, with the care of Bachicha and our Regla countryman, I
don't despair of your welfare. ADIOS! _para siempre!_"
And so we parted;--and it was, indeed, an adieu for ever. We never
met again, but I heard of Don Rafael and his fortunes. The new
enterprise with the pilot-boat turned out successfully, and the band
acquired considerable property on the island before the piratical
nests along the coast of Cuba were broken up by cruisers. Rafael had
some narrow escapes from the noose and the yard arm; but he eluded the
grasp of his pursuers, and died a respectable _ranchero_ on a
comfortable farm in the interior of the Queen of the Antilles.
* * * * *
The light winds of summer soon brought us inside the Moro Castle, past
the frowning batteries of the Cabanas, and at anchor near Regla,
within the beautiful harbor of Havana. I shall never forget the
impression made on my mind by this delicious scene as it first broke
on my sight at sunrise, in all the cool freshness of morning. The
grand amphitheatre of hills swept down to the calm and lake-like water
with gentle slopes, lapped in the velvet robes of richest green, and
embroidered, as it were, with lace-like spots of castle, fort,
dwelling, and villa, until the seaward points were terminated on the
left, by the brilliant city, and on the right by a pile of majestic
batteries.
This grand and lasting impression was made almost at a glance, for,
at my time of life, I was more concerned with man than nature, and
rarely paused to dwell on the most fascinating scenery. Accordingly,
I hastened to Regla with my letter of introduction, which was
_interpreted_ by Bachicha to the Italian grocer, the friend of
Rafael, to whom I was confided. _Il signore Carlo Cibo_ was an
illiterate man of kind heart, who had adventurously emigrated from
Italy to furnish the Havanese with good things; while, in return, the
Havanese had been so pleased with his provender, that Carlo may be
said to have been a man "very well to do in the world" for a
foreigner. He received me with unbounded kindness;--welcomed me to
his bachelor home;--apologized for its cold cheerlessness, and
ordered me to consider himself and his "_casa_" entirely at my
disposal as long as I chose to remain.
I was content to accept this unstinted hospitality for a few days,
while I ran over the town, the hills, and the _paseos_; but I could
not consent to dally long eating the bread of idleness and charity. I
observed that my friend Carlo was either the most prudent or least
inquisitive man I knew, for he never asked me a question about my
early or recent history. As he would not lend the conversation to my
affairs, I one day took the liberty to inquire whether there was a
vessel in port bound to the Pacific Ocean or Mexico, in which my
protector could possibly find a situation for me as an officer, or
procure me permission to work my way even as a common sailor.
The kind grocer instantly divined my true motive, and while he honored
me for it, deprecated the idea of my departure. He said that my visit,
instead of being a burden, was a pleasure he could not soon replace.
As to the expenses of his house, he declared they were, in fact, _not_
increased. What fed five, fed half a dozen; and, as to my proposal to
go to Mexico, or any other place in Spanish America on the Continent,
with a view of "making my fortune," he warmly protested against it, in
consequence of his own experience.
"They can never conquer their jealousy of _foreigners_," said Carlo;
"you may live with them for years, and imagine yourself as intimate as
brothers; but, at last, _carramba_, you will find something turn up,
that marks you an alien and kindles nationality against you. Take my
advice, Don Teodore, stay where you are; study Spanish carefully; get
the hang of the people; and, my life on it, before long, you'll have
your hands full of trump cards and the game in your power."
I did as he desired, and was presented to a corpulent old quiz of a
_padre_, who pretended to instruct me in classical Castilian. Two
lessons demonstrated his incapacity; but as he was a jolly gossip of
my grocer, and hail-fellow with the whole village of Regla, I thought
it good policy to continue his pupil in appearance, while I taught
myself _in private_. Besides this, the _padre_ was a _bon vivant_ and
devoted lover of fish. Now, as I happened to be a good sportsman, with
a canoe at my command, I managed to supply his kitchen with an
abundance of the finny tribe, which his cook was an adept in
preparing. It may be supposed that our "fast days" were especial
epochs of delicious reunion. A fine dinner smoked on the table; a good
bottle was added by the grocer; and, while my entertainer discussed
the viands, I contrived to keep him in continual chat, which, in
reality, was the best practical lesson a man in my circumstances could
receive.
* * * * *
It is strange how our lives and destinies are often decided by
trifles. As I sailed about the harbor in idleness, my nautical eye and
taste were struck by the trim rig of the sharp built "slavers," which,
at that time, used to congregate at Havana. There was something
bewitching to my mind in their race-horse beauty. A splendid vessel
has always had the same influence on my mind, that I have heard a
splendid woman has on the minds of other men. These dashing _slavers_,
with their arrowy hulls and raking masts, got complete possession of
my fancy. There was hardly a day that I did not come home with a
discovery of added charms. Signor Carlo listened in silence and nodded
his head, when I was done, with an approving smile and a "_bueno!_"
I continued my sailing peregrinations for a month around the harbor,
when my kind entertainer invited me to accompany him aboard a vessel
of which, he said, he owned two shares--_she was bound to Africa!_ The
splendid clipper was one of the very craft that had won my heart; and
my feverish soul was completely upset by the gala-scene as we drifted
down the bay, partaking of a famous breakfast, and quaffing bumpers of
Champagne to the schooner's luck. When she passed the Moro Castle we
leaped into our boats, and gave the voyagers three hearty and tipsy
cheers. My grocer was a "slaver!"
I had a thousand questions for the Italian in regard to the trade, now
that I found _he_ belonged to the fraternity. All my inquiries were
gratified in his usually amiable manner; and that night, in my dreams,
I was on board of a coaster chased by John Bull.
My mind was made up. Mexico, Peru, South American independence,
patriotism, and all that, were given to the breezes of the gulf. I
slept off my headache and nightmare; and next morning announced to
Cibo my abandonment of the Costa Firma, and my anxiety to get a
situation in a vessel bound to Africa.
In a few days I was told that my wishes would perhaps be gratified, as
a fast vessel from the Canaries was about to be sold; and if she went
off a bargain, Signor Carlo had resolved to purchase her, with a
friend, to send to Africa.
Accordingly, the Canary "GLOBO" was acquired for $3000; and after a
perfect refitting at the Casa-Blanca of Havana, loomed in the harbor
as a respectable pilot-boat of forty tons. Her name, in consequence of
reputed speed, was changed to "El Areostatico;" a culverine was placed
amidships; all the requisites for a slave cargo were put on board;
fifteen sailors, the refuse of the press-gang and jail-birds, were
shipped; powder, ammunition, and small arms, were abundantly supplied;
and, last of all, four kegs, ballasted with specie, were conveyed into
the cabin to purchase our return cargo.
It was on the 2d of September, 1826, after a charming _dejeuner_, that
I bade farewell to my friend Carlo on the deck of the Areostatico,
cleared for the Cape de Verd isles, but, in truth, bound for the Rio
Pongo. Our crew consisted of twenty-one scamps--Spaniards, Portuguese,
Frenchmen, and mongrels. The Majorcan captain was an odd character to
intrust with such an enterprise, and probably nowhere else, save in
Havana at that period, would he have been allowed to command a slaver.
He was a scientific navigator, but no sailor;--afraid of his shadow,
he had not a particle of confidence in his own judgment; every body
was listened to, and he readily yielded his opinions without argument
or controversy. Our chief officer, a Catalonian cousin of the captain,
made no pretensions to seamanship, yet he was a good mathematician. I
still remember the laughs I had at the care he took of his lily-white
hands, and the jokes we cracked upon his girl-like manners, voice, and
conversation. The boatswain, who was in his watch, assured me that he
rarely gave an order without humming it out to a tune of some favorite
opera.
In this fantastic group, I occupied the position of supernumerary
officer and interpreter; but accustomed, as I had been, to wholesome
_American_ seamanship and discipline, I trembled not a little when I
discovered the amazing ignorance of the master, and observed the utter
worthlessness of our crew. These things made me doubly vigilant; and
sometimes I grieved that I was not still in Regla, or on the _paseo_.
On the tenth day out, a northwester began to pipe and ripen to a gale
as the sea rose with it. Sail had been soon diminished on the
schooner; but when I was relieved in my watch by the first officer, I
hinted to the captain that it would be best to lay the vessel to as
soon as possible. We had been scudding before the tempest for some
hours under a close-reefed foresail, and I feared if we did not bring
our craft to the wind at once, we would either run her under, or be
swamped in attempting the manoeuvre when the waves got higher. The
captain, however, with his usual submission to the views of the wrong
person, took the advice of the helmsman, who happened to be older than
I, and the schooner was allowed to dash on either through or over the
seas, at the speed of a racer.
By this time the forward deck was always under water, and the men
gathered abaft the trunk to keep as dry as possible. Officers and crew
were huddled together pell-mell, and, with our usual loose discipline,
every body joined in the conversation and counsel. Before sundown I
again advised the laying-to of the schooner; but the task had now
become so formidable that the men who dreaded the job, assured the
captain that the wind would fall as the moon arose. Yet, when the dim
orb appeared above the thick, low-drifting scud, the gale _increased_.
The light rather hinted than revealed the frightful scene around that
egg-shell on the lashed and furious sea. Each wave swept over us, but
our buoyant craft rose on the succeeding swell, and cleft its crest
with her knife-like prow. It was now too late to attempt bringing her
to the wind; still it became more urgent to do something to prevent us
from being submerged by the huge seas, which came thundering after us
like avalanches on our quarters.
The perilous dilemma of our doubtful captain and his dainty mate, may
be easily imagined. Every body had an opinion, and of course they vied
with each other in absurdity;--at last some one proposed to cut away
the foresail, and bring her to the wind under bare poles.
I was "conning" the schooner when this insane scheme was broached, and
fearing that the captain might adopt it, I leaped on the hatch, after
calling the boatswain to my place, and assured the crew that if they
severed the sail, we would lose command of the vessel, so that with
impaired headway, the next wave that struck her would show her keel to
the skies and her dock to the fishes. I exhorted them to drive her
_faster_ if possible rather than stop. To turn out the "balance reef,"
I said, was our only salvation;--and I alleged that I had seen a
vessel saved before in precisely the same way. Cowards, with death
clutching their throats, were soon convinced by a man of nerve. I
availed myself of the instantaneous silence that followed my act, and
before the captain could think or speak, I leaped to the boom with my
sharp knife, cutting the reef-points slowly and carefully, so as not
to allow the foresail to be inflated and torn by a single blast.
My judgment was correct. Our increased canvas immediately sent us
skimming over the waves; the rollers no longer combed dangerously over
our quarter; we scudded steadily throughout the remnant of the gale;
and, next night, at sundown, we rested on a quiet, lake-like ocean,
taughtening the strained rigging, and priding ourselves mightily on
the hazards we encountered and overcame. The Minorcan skipper was
satisfied that no man ever before performed so daring an exploit. He
was, moreover, convinced, that no one but himself could have carried
the schooner through so frightful a storm, or would have invented the
noble expedient of driving instead of stripping her!
From this hour all semblance of regular discipline was abandoned.
Sailors, who are suffered to tread the quarter-deck familiarly and
offer their opinions, never get over the permitted freedom. Our
ragamuffins of the Areostatico could never abide the idea that the
youngest seaman aboard,--and he, too, a _foreigner_,--should have
proved the best sailor. The skilful performance of my duty was the
source of a rankling grudge. As I would not mix with the scamps, they
called me arrogant. My orders were negligently obeyed; and, in fact,
every thing in the schooner became as comfortless as possible.
Forty-one days, however, brought us to the end of our voyage at the
mouth of the Rio Pongo. No one being acquainted with the river's
entrance or navigation, the captain and four hands went ashore for a
pilot, who came off in the afternoon, while our master ascended in a
boat to the slave-factory at Bangalang. Four o'clock found us entering
the Rio Pongo, with tide and wind in our favor, so that before the sun
sank into the Atlantic Ocean we were safe at our anchorage below the
settlement.
While we were slowly drifting between the river banks, and watching
the gorgeous vegetation of Africa, which, that evening, first burst
upon my sight, I fell into a chat with the native pilot, who had been
in the United States, and spoke English remarkably well. Berak very
soon inquired whether there was any one else on board who spoke the
language besides myself, and when told that the cabin-boy alone knew
it, he whispered a story which, in truth, I was not in the least
surprised to hear.
That afternoon one of our crew had attempted the captain's life, while
on shore, by snapping a carabine behind his back! Our pilot learned
the fact from a native who followed the party from the landing, along
the beach; and its truth was confirmed, in his belief, by the
significant boasts made by the _tallest_ of the boatmen who
accompanied him on board. He was satisfied that the entire gang
contemplated our schooner's seizure.
The pilot's story corroborated some hints I received from our cook
during the voyage. It struck me instantly, that if a crime like this
were really designed, no opportunity for its execution could be more
propitious than the present. I determined, therefore, to omit no
precaution that might save the vessel and the lives of her honest
officers. On examining the carabines brought back from shore, which I
had hurriedly thrown into the arm-chest on deck, I found that the lock
of this armory had been forced, and several pistols and cutlasses
abstracted.
Preparations had undoubtedly been made to assassinate us. As night
drew on, my judgment, as well as _nervousness_, convinced me that the
darkness would not pass without a murderous attempt. There was an
unusual silence. On reaching port, there is commonly fun and merriment
among crews; but the usual song and invariable guitar were omitted
from the evening's entertainment. I searched the deck carefully, yet
but two mariners were found above the hatches apparently asleep.
Inasmuch as I was only a subordinate officer, I could not command, nor
had I any confidence in the nerve or judgment of the chief mate, if I
trusted my information to him. Still I deemed it a duty to tell him
the story, as well as my discovery about the missing arms.
Accordingly, I called the first officer, boatswain, and cook, as
quietly as possible, into the cabin; leaving our English cabin-boy to
watch in the companion way. Here I imparted our danger, and asked
their assistance in _striking the first blow_. My plan was to secure
the crew, and give them battle. The mate, as I expected, shrank like a
girl, declining any step till the captain returned. The cook and
boatswain, however, silently approved my movement; so that we
counselled our cowardly comrade to remain below, while we assumed the
responsibility and risk of the enterprise.
It may have been rather rash, but I resolved to begin the rescue, by
shooting down, like a dog and without a word, the notorious Cuban
convict who had attempted the captain's life. This, I thought, would
strike panic into the mutineers; and end the mutiny in the most
bloodless way. Drawing a pair of large horse-pistols from beneath the
captain's pillow, and examining the load, I ordered the cook and
boatswain to follow me to the deck. But the craven officer would not
quit his hold on my person. He besought me not to commit murder. He
clung to me with the panting fear and grasp of a woman. He begged me,
with every term of endearment, to desist; and, in the midst of my
scuffle to throw him off, one of the pistols accidentally exploded. A
moment after, my vigilant watch-boy screamed from the starboard, a
warning "look-out!" and, peering forward in the blinding darkness as I
emerged from the lighted cabin, I beheld the stalwart form of the
ringleader, brandishing a cutlass within a stride of me. I aimed and
fired. We both fell; the mutineer with two balls in his abdomen, and I
from the recoil of an over-charged pistol.
My face was cut, and my eye injured by the concussion; but as neither
combatant was deprived of consciousness, in a moment we were both on
our feet. The Spanish felon, however, pressed his hand on his bowels,
and rushed forward exclaiming he was slain; but, in his descent to the
forecastle, he was stabbed in the shoulder with a bayonet by the
boatswain, whose vigorous blow drove the weapon with such tremendous
force that it could hardly be withdrawn from the scoundrel's carcass.
I said I was up in a minute; and, feeling my face with my hand, I
perceived a quantity of blood on my cheek, around which I hastily tied
a handkerchief, below my eyes. I then rushed to the arm-chest. At that
moment, the crack of a pistol, and a sharp, boyish cry, told me that
my pet was wounded beside me. I laid him behind the hatchway, and
returned to the charge. By this time I was blind with rage, and
fought, it seems, like a _madman_. I confess that I have no personal
recollection whatever of the following events, and only learned them
from the subsequent report of the cook and boatswain.
I stood, they said, over the arm-chest like one spell-bound. My eyes
were fixed on the forecastle; and, as head after head loomed out of
the darkness above the hatch, I discharged carabine after carabine at
the mark. Every thing that moved fell by my aim. As I fired the
weapons, I flung them away to grasp fresh ones: and, when the battle
was over, the cook aroused me from my mad stupor, still groping wildly
for arms in the emptied chest.
As the smoke cleared off, the fore part of our schooner seemed utterly
deserted: yet we found two men dead, one in mortal agony on the deck,
while the ringleader and a colleague were gasping in the forecastle.
Six pistols had been fired against us from forward; but, strange to
say, the only efficient ball was the one that struck my English boy's
leg.
When I came to my senses, my first quest was for the gallant
boatswain, who, being unarmed on the forecastle when the unexpected
discharge took place, and seeing no chance of escape from my murderous
carabines, took refuge over the bows.
Our cabin-boy was soon quieted. The mutineers needed but little care
for their hopeless wounds, while the felon chief, like all such
wretches, died in an agony of despicable fear, shrieking for pardon.
My shriving of his sins was a speedy rite!
Such was my _first_ night in Africa!