The San Pablo might have been considered entitled to a "clean bill of
health" by the time she reached the equator. The dead left space,
food, and water for the living, and very little restraint was imposed
on the squalid remnant. None were shackled after the outbreak of the
fatal plague, so that in a short time the survivors began to fatten
for the market to which they were hastening. But such was not the fate
of our captain. The fever and delirium had long left him, yet a
dysenteric tendency,--the result of a former malady,--suddenly
supervened, and the worthy gentleman rapidly declined. His nerves gave
way so thoroughly, that from fanciful weakness he lapsed into helpless
hypochondria. One of his pet ideas was that a copious dose of calomel
would ensure his restoration to perfect health. Unfortunately,
however, during the prevalence of the plague, our medicine chest had
one day been accidentally left exposed, and our mercury was
abstracted. Still there was no use to attempt calming him with the
assurance that his _nostrum_ could not be had. The more we argued the
impossibility of supplying him, the more was he urgent and imperative
for the sanative mineral.
In this dilemma I ordered a bright look-out to be kept for merchantmen
from whom I hoped to obtain the desirable drug. At last a sail was
reported two points under our lee, and as her canvas was both patched
and dark, I considered her a harmless Briton who might be approached
with impunity.
It proved to be a brig from Belfast, in Ireland; but when I overhauled
the skipper and desired him to send a boat on board, he declined the
invitation and kept his course. A second and third command shared the
same fate. I was somewhat nettled by this disregard of my flag,
pennant, and starboard epaulette, and ordering the brig to be run
alongside, I made her fast to the recusant, and boarded with ten men.
Our reception was, of course, not very amicable, though no show of
resistance was made by officers or crew. I informed the captain that
my object in stopping him was entirely one of mercy, and repeated the
request I had previously made through the speaking trumpet. Still, the
stubborn Scotchman persisted in denying the medicine, though I offered
him payment in silver or gold. Thereupon, I commanded the mate to
produce his log-book, and, under my dictation, to note the visit of
the San Pablo, my request, and its churlish denial. This being done to
my satisfaction, I ordered two of my hands to search for the medicine
chest, which turned out to be a sorry receptacle of stale drugs,
though fortunately containing an abundance of calomel. I did not
parley about appropriating a third of the mineral, for which I counted
five silver dollars on the cabin table. But the metal was no sooner
exhibited than my Scotchman refused it with disdain. I handed it,
however, to the mate, and exacted a receipt, which was noted in the
log-book.
As I put my leg over the taffrail, I tried once more to smooth the
bristles of the terrier, but a snarl and a snap repaid me for my good
humor. Nevertheless, I resolved "to heap coals of fire on the head" of
the ingrate; and, before I cast off our lashings, threw on his deck a
dozen yams, a bag of frijoles, a barrel of pork, a couple of sacks of
white Spanish biscuits,--and, with a cheer, bade him adieu.
But there was no balm in calomel for the captain. Scotch physic could
not save him. He declined day by day; yet the energy of his hard
nature kept him alive when other men would have sunk, and enabled him
to command even from his sick bed.
It was always our Sabbath service to drum the men to quarters and
exercise them with cannons and small arms. One Sunday, after the
routine was over, the dying man desired to inspect his crew, and was
carried to the quarter-deck on a mattress. Each sailor marched in
front of him and was allowed to take his hand; after which he called
them around in a body, and announced his apprehension that death would
claim him before our destination was reached. Then, without previously
apprising us of his design, he proceeded to make a verbal testament,
and enjoined it upon all as a duty to his memory to obey implicitly.
If the San Pablo arrived safely in port, he desired that every officer
and mariner should be paid the promised bounty, and that the proceeds
of cargo should be sent to his family in Nantz. But, if it happened
that we were attacked by a cruiser, and the brig was saved by the risk
and valor of a defence,--then, he directed that one half the voyage's
avails should be shared between officers and crew, while one quarter
was sent to his friends in France, and the other given to me. His
sailing-master and Cuban consignees were to be the executors of this
salt water document.
We were now well advanced north-westwardly on our voyage, and in every
cloud could see a promise of the continuing trade-wind, which was
shortly to end a luckless voyage. From deck to royal,--from flying-jib
to ring-tail, every stitch of canvas that would draw was packed and
crowded on the brig. Vessels were daily seen in numbers, but none
appeared suspicious till we got far to the westward, when my glass
detected a cruising schooner, jogging along under easy sail. I ordered
the helmsman to keep his course; and taughtening sheets, braces, and
halyards, went into the cabin to receive the final orders of our
commander.
He received my story with his usual bravery, nor was he startled when
a boom from the cruiser's gun announced her in chase. He pointed to
one of his drawers and told me to take out its contents. I handed him
three flags, which he carefully unrolled, and displayed the ensigns of
Spain, Denmark, and Portugal, in each of which I found a set of papers
suitable for the San Pablo. In a feeble voice he desired me to select
a nationality; and, when I chose the Spanish, he grasped my hand,
pointed to the door, and bade me not to surrender.
When I reached the deck, I found our pursuer gaining on us with the
utmost speed. She outsailed us--two to one. Escape was altogether out
of the question; yet I resolved to show the inquisitive stranger our
mettle, by keeping my course, firing a gun, and hoisting my Spanish
signals at peak and main.
At this time the San Pablo was spinning along finely at the rate of
about six knots an hour, when a shot from the schooner fell close to
our stern. In a moment I ordered in studding-sails alow and aloft, and
as my men had been trained to their duty in man-of-war fashion, I
hoped to impose on the cruiser by the style and perfection of the
manoeuvre. Still, however, she kept her way, and, in four hours
after discovery, was within half gun-shot of the brig.
Hitherto I had not touched my armament, but I selected this moment to
load under the enemy's eyes, and, at the word of command, to fling
open the ports and run out my barkers. The act was performed to a
charm by my well-drilled gunners; yet all our belligerent display had
not the least effect on the schooner, which still pursued us. At last,
within hail, her commander leaped on a gun, and ordered me to "heave
to, or take a ball!"
Now, I was prepared for this arrogant command, and, for half an hour,
had made up my mind how to avoid an engagement. A single discharge of
my broadside might have sunk or seriously damaged our antagonist, but
the consequences would have been terrible if he boarded me, which I
believed to be his aim.
Accordingly, I paid no attention to the threat, but taughtened my
ropes and surged ahead. Presently, my racing chaser came up _under my
lee_ within pistol-shot, when a reiterated command to heave to or be
fired on, was answered for the first time by a faint "_no
intiendo_,"--"I don't understand you,"--while the man-of-war shot
ahead of me.
_Then I had him!_ Quick as thought, I gave the order to "square away,"
and putting the helm up, struck the cruiser near the bow, carrying
away her foremast and bowsprit. Such was the stranger's surprise at my
daring trick that not a musket was fired or boarder stirred, till we
were clear of the wreck. It was then too late. The loss of my jib-boom
and a few rope-yarns did not prevent me from cracking on my
studding-sails, and leaving the lubber to digest his stupid
_forbearance_!
This adventure was a fitting epitaph for the stormy life of our poor
commander, who died on the following night, and was buried under a
choice selection of the flags he had honored with his various
nationalities. A few days after the blue water had closed over him for
ever, our cargo was safely ensconced in the _hacienda_ nine miles east
of St. Jago de Cuba, while the San Pablo was sent adrift and burnt to
the water's edge.