Mauritius—The Introduction of Labour from India—Machinery
and Guano—Population—Revenue Exceeds the Expenditure
Considerably—Immigration Crimps—Coloured Ball—The Key to
India—The Governor of Réunion offers to Garrison “the Isle
of France”—Port Louis—Two Bishops—Bad Hôtels—“Dieu et Mon
Droit”—“Trumpeters before Travellers”—“There, you Poor
Devil!”—The Colonel’s Wedding-day—British Barque “Sutton” Opens
a New Description of Slave-Trade—The Gallant Affair of the
“Sarah Sands.”
The history of the Island of Mauritius, or—as the French will insist
upon calling it—the Isle of France, is too well known to be even briefly
alluded to here. But as this island, from its position in the Indian
Ocean, has been hitherto looked upon as the key, or stepping-stone, to
our possessions in the East, a short statement of its present state
may not be unacceptable to the general reader; more especially as this
island, together with that of Barbadoes, are the two great striking
examples of the success of the British emancipation of the slaves, when
followed up by an adequate supply of free labour.
The cessation of the apprenticeship of the former slaves took place in
April, 1839; but as the abolition of slavery had been proclaimed four
years previous, and many of the apprentices obtained by purchase, or
otherwise, their complete liberty, the colonists began to replace them
by the introduction of natives from India. The Government offered no
obstacle to this introduction of labourers; there was no restriction as
to the number to be carried in each vessel, and from 1834 to 1838, 24,566
of the natives of India were introduced into the island of Mauritius.
These labourers engaged to work at field labour for a term of five years,
at the rate of five rupees per month; and a certain amount, it appears,
was retained out of their wages to provide a passage back to India, if
they wished, at the expiration of their engagement.
From the facility with which labour was obtained from India, the
newly-emancipated labourers were entirely neglected; and if the
Government had not checked this supply of labour, the wise and beneficent
intentions of the British Legislature, in responding to the call of the
nation, and emancipating the slaves throughout our colonies, would here
have been entirely frustrated, and the godlike boon of liberty would only
have been the precursor to a miserable death by famine.
The want of control in the shipment of these immigrants in the Indian
ports led to abuse; for vessels took a much larger amount of persons than
they had room for on board, and the natural consequence was that disease
was created on board of the vessels, and numbers of the coolies perished
on the voyage to this El Dorado of the native of India.
At this time the Imperial Government and the Government of India wisely
stepped in, and for a time stopped a system of immigration which
at that time was creating a great amount of suffering, both to the
lately-emancipated negro, and also to the native of India endeavouring
to better his condition by proceeding to the Mauritius.
But on its being fairly shown that the ex-apprentices could not be
brought back to field labour—which they looked upon as a mark of that
abject slavery from which they had just been released, and that their
labour found employment in other channels, the Imperial Government,
after having stopped this labour for four years, namely from 1838 to
1842—removed the prohibition on the introduction of Indians. During this
prohibition, the staple product of the island, viz., sugar, declined from
39,559 tons in 1840 to 36,542 tons in 1842.
Since the prohibition of the introduction of Indian labourers in 1842 was
removed, the produce of agricultural industry in this colony has been
regular and rapid, the increase of the productions of the soil being in
proportion to the introduction of labourers as follows:—
Year. No. of Indians in the Colony. Sugar Exported.
Males. Females. lbs.
1842 18,105 888 73,082,177
1857 107,072 35,452 229,321,468
and also in nearly the same proportion during the intermediate years.
Mauritius has suffered from more than one crisis in the money-market
during the last twenty years, which may be fairly traced to the cessation
of immigration from 1838 to 1843, as well as to the modification and
equalization of the duties on foreign sugar, in 1842 and 1846. The last
crisis, that of 1847-8, proved so violent as to completely annihilate
some houses connected with large London firms, who had been led to
advance considerable sums of money in the hope of eventually obtaining
returns from the estates they were supporting. Since this last crisis
there has been less speculation, and estates are said to have been
managed with more economy than formerly. I was told that they are now
better cultivated, and, from the introduction of superior machinery, the
manufacture of sugar is more economical.
The introduction of guano has done wonders for this island; for by the
use of it in the wet districts, where the soil is of a cold clayey
nature, land formerly deemed unfitted for the culture of the sugar-cane
has become some of the most fertile in the island.
The increase of production and consumption, added to the large
immigration of native labour from India, has given employment to an
increased number of shipping; while the repeal of the navigation laws
in 1850 threw the ports of this small colony open to the vessels of all
nations.
In 1857, the population of the island amounted to 239,007 persons,
consisting of:—
General population 55,794
Ex-Apprentice ditto 40,678
Immigrant ditto 142,534
Taxes have lately been much reduced; but the extending trade, larger
production, and increasing population and wealth have raised the revenue
of this thriving colony far beyond the expenditure.
The large amount of 79,500_l._ sterling is annually expended on
immigration, while every means are taken to see the immigrant properly
protected. In consequence of the competition among the planters for
labour, a system of crimpage existed at Mauritius, when I visited that
island, which was injurious to the best interests of the immigrant and
his employer; the middle-men or crimps, who obtained the labourers on
their arrival in the island, being the only parties benefited. While
the expense of importing a labourer from India has cost a planter 6_l._
for the passage-money of the immigrant, I have known instances in which
he was obliged to pay the crimp an additional 6_l._ to secure the
immigrant—which, together with a further expense of 2_l._ for government
fees, made each labourer placed on the estate, before he began to work,
cost 14_l._
By recent regulations enabling the planter to engage the immigrant in
India, and making that engagement binding on their arrival at Mauritius,
the crimpage system will now be done away with.
With regard to the treatment of the blacks, natives of India, or
ex-apprentices, nothing could be more liberal, nor could freedom be more
perfect than that which they enjoy.
I have been in many mixed communities, and have seen the black in Cuba,
Jamaica, and all the other West India Islands, in Sierra Leone, Liberia,
and Mozambique, but I have never seen him enjoying a better position in
the social circle than at Mauritius.
Soon after our arrival at Port Louis, we were invited to a coloured ball,
at which the Governor and principal ladies of the island were guests;
the dresses of the ladies, for beauty or costliness, could not have been
surpassed in Paris or London; while the ceremonies of the ball-room and
supper-table were conducted with the utmost decorum and grace.
The employers being so much at the mercy of the employed, the labouring
classes are insolent in the extreme; and any amount of wealth does not
secure the more opulent portion of the community from suffering from a
want which no amount of money can purchase.
In the towns and on the plantations everywhere one hears the same
complaint—the bad conduct of the servants. Coolies from Madras and
Calcutta, who really are good servants, after a few months’ residence on
the island, become lazy, insolent, and drunkards.
For the coloured population, the rate of wages is a great deal too high;
the consequence is that the majority spend their abundance in drink,
and, when under the influence of this, much mischief, and crimes of a
minor description, are committed. The Government of the island is, in
a great measure, answerable for this, for the number of small drinking
places which they license throughout the island. Every plantation has the
curse of one or more small drinking place, just beyond the limits of the
grounds, where the labourers betake themselves at any hour, and absent
themselves from their work for any time they please.
For this conduct, on the part of the labourer, the employer has little or
no redress; as, if he punishes the coolie, he loses his services while
imprisoned, and the period of engagement is progressing, just as if he
were engaged in the field instead of the prison.
If those labourers who are committed to prison were usefully employed
in improving the roads, which in general are bad, a wholesome dread of
prison discipline would be instilled, which, in a short time, would have
a beneficial effect on the labouring community.
The great obstacle to the suppression of these small drinking shops is
the large revenue which their licences bring in to the Government. This
is one of the causes of the revenue so far exceeding the expenditure;
and this unhealthy state of prosperity, based on the immorality and
demoralization of the masses, must, sooner or later, bring a destructive
change, leading to the most serious results.
The Indian population, already overpaid and demoralized by the excessive
use of intoxicating liquors, if thrown out of employment by two
successive years of failure of the sugar-cane—the staple product of the
island—and the consequent ruin of many of the planters, deprived of the
means of living, and excited by the intoxicating drinks which have now
become habitual to them, would commit the most frightful excesses, and
incalculable injury might be inflicted on the interests of the colony ere
the Executive could be sufficiently strengthened to check these excesses.
From its position in the Indian Ocean, this island should always have a
reserve of at least 10,000 men, who would be acclimatized for our eastern
possessions, and form a force at all times available for service, from
Bombay to our furthest eastern possession, while its proximity to the
Cape of Good Hope, Natal, and Aden, would afford our garrisons in those
parts ready aid, in case of a sudden outbreak among the natives of Africa
or Arabia.
At the neighbouring French island of Réunion, formerly called Bourbon,
there is always a large force, evidently with the view of being useful
in those seas in the case of any sudden emergency. This force consists
of five regiments, each 800 strong, and a municipal force of about 1,600
men, making in all about 6,000 men, within one night’s steaming distance
of this little gem of the Indian Ocean; while the island of Mauritius
has been left without more than four small companies of one regiment to
protect it.
I know from the best authority that, when the Indian mutiny broke out,
the kind-hearted and polite Governor of Réunion, evidently desirous to
carry out the _entente cordiale_ existing between the two nations to its
fullest extent, offered to garrison the Isle of France, or, as we call
it, Mauritius, with French troops; but with many thanks his generous
offer was politely declined, although, I believe, we had not 400 fighting
men on the island—while there were nearly 6,000 Frenchmen longing for a
glorious _coup d’état_, within ten or twelve hours steaming distance from
our “key to India.”
The island of Mauritius presents the most diversified and beautiful
scenery throughout, being everywhere in a high state of cultivation. From
the moment of its being seen from the deck of a ship on the Indian Ocean,
until it fades away in the distance, it presents one continued view of
rich vegetation. Many of the planters’ seats are luxurious abodes; and
all those having English for their owners, or residents, may be known by
that air of comfort which accompanies an English home in every quarter of
the globe.
The principal city is Port Louis, which is beautifully situated in the
centre of a snug harbour, having in its rear an amphitheatre of hills,
which inclose a space where the races and reviews take place. The town is
a mixture of houses built in the English and French styles, and, being
situated principally on a steep incline, might, if properly drained,
be one of the healthiest spots in the world; but, in consequence of the
neglect of this necessary precaution in that climate, the inhabitants
suffer greatly when cholera invades the island, in spite of the admirable
quarantine regulations established there. There are two cathedrals and
two bishops, for the Protestant and Roman Catholic religions. Dr. Ryan,
the Lord Bishop of Mauritius, is indefatigable in “all good works,” and
already his labours have produced their good fruits, by the awakening
of the Protestant community to what may, from all statements, be really
called “a new life.”
With the surplus revenue of this colony, for more than twenty years
of almost uninterrupted prosperity, one is surprised to find no great
buildings, the general mark of social progress. In all the Roman colonies
these marks of their ameliorating influence were found; but here, as in
many other British colonies, there are no monuments to mark the dominion
of a mighty nation. People at the Mauritius appear bent upon making
money, and then returning to Europe—few looking upon it as their abiding
place.
The island keeps pace with modern improvements, in machinery especially;
and preparations are making for the establishment of a railway, which
will lead to the further development of this fruitful little island.
The hotels are the worst managed establishments I have ever seen;
firstly, because the proprietors are all above their business, driving
in equipages which outvie those of the Governor and principal planters;
and, secondly, because the law between employer and employed is not
sufficiently binding, and consequently the hotel proprietors have no
control over their servants.
In the Hôtel d’Europe, I have known every one in the house waiting for
breakfast, while all the waiters were employed in polishing up the
harness for the horses of the splendid carriage of the proprietor, which
bore on the panel the armorial bearings of a noble English family,
without the bend of bastardy, to which the owner was alone entitled;
while, surmounting the arms, there was the representation of a cockatoo
fluttering, with a ribbon in its mouth, on which was the royal motto,
“_Dieu et mon droit!_”
On another occasion, wishing to have breakfast previous to going to
church on Sunday morning, the boarders in this hotel requested to know
the cause of delay, and they were told that a party of gentlemen were
engaged in breakfasting in the public room, and that the boarders who
supported the house could not breakfast until the gentlemen had finished.
In company with a naval friend, I ventured to intrude on the privacy
of the strangers, when we were presented with the sight of the German
brass band—they, their wives, and their little ones—belonging to this
fashionable hotel, at breakfast. Being a traveller, and from time to
time seeing various strange scenes, I observed to my friend that this
was doubtless “the custom of the country.” To which he replied that
in that little island “trumpeters evidently came before travellers.”
Remonstrance was quite useless; so, after the Germans had finished their
“sauer-kraut,” we, who supported them, were allowed to eat off the same
table.
After the excitement of arriving at Port Louis had somewhat worn off,
my wife and myself were very ill, and confined to our room, with low
nervous fever from the effects of the Mozambique affair. During this
time we should certainly have fared very badly, if it had not been for
the widow of a naval officer and her daughter, Mrs. Russell, who were
unremitting in their kind attentions to us—even bringing nice nourishing
soup from their own house for us, it being quite impossible to obtain
anything, even a drop of water when one was sick, from those in the
hotel, although we were paying very handsomely.
The whole of the first floor was originally intended for a large
ball-room; and so as not to interfere with this design (for which it
is sometimes required, when the guests have to go without beds), it
is partitioned off into small apartments, barely large enough to hold
a small iron bed and wash-hand stand. The wooden partitions dividing
these spaces into apartments are about ten feet in height, there being a
space between them and the ceiling of some six or seven feet—so that one
may hear everything going on over the whole floor. In fact, the wooden
partitions simply acted as screens to divide one bed from the other.
The usual mode of calling the servants at table was by dropping a
tumbler on the marble floor, which, breaking in pieces, had the effect
of drawing the attention of the proprietor of the arms surmounted with a
fluttering cockatoo, who immediately made his appearance to look after
his motto—“_Dieu et mon droit._”
In this first-rate hotel, with its brass band and flaming advertisements
in the local papers, I have seen people, on returning to the hotel after
spending the evening at some family party, obliged to find the way to
their room by means of a candle stuck in a black bottle, which had been
lighted by a match supplied by the driver of the coach which brought
them to the door of the hotel—every servant remaining in the house being
insensibly drunk.
After recovering from our short attack of illness, we removed to an
adjoining hotel just opened, where we could procure decent apartments,
but nothing to eat. We had therefore to make arrangements with another
hotel for our meals—but they would not undertake to send the meals, as
the servants were so bad they could not depend on them bringing the
things as required. On the other hand, they had no rooms vacant. I was
therefore obliged to hire a Madras coolie, named “Sammy,” to act as
“butler,” as he styled it.
On arriving at the second hotel, one of the servants lifted out of the
carriage a bird-cage, and carried it up to my room, for which he demanded
payment.
Tired, ill, and worried, in the hope of getting rid of his importunity,
I put my hand into my pocket and reached him a shilling, not having any
smaller change about me at the time. Looking very hard at the shilling,
which was lying on the palm of his hand, he backed to what he considered
a safe distance, and then the “poor black” asked me if “I called myself a
gentleman in offering him a shilling?” Without waiting for my answer, he
slapped his leg to make the money in his pocket jingle, and then putting
his hand into his pocket he pulled out a shilling, which, adding to the
one I had given to him, he threw at my feet, and exclaiming, “There, you
poor devil!” he walked off.
Sammy, after the first day, acted fool—and he did it admirably—but the
only way was to keep one’s temper, and patience generally conquered.
My wife’s appetite and my own were exceedingly small, but still we found
what the hotel sent us for dinner was less than we could fairly manage.
I asked our host to add another dish, but yet there seemed to be a small
supply.
One day I observed Sammy enter the hotel with our dinner on his head, and
thinking he took a very long time coming from the hall door to my room,
I went in search of my “butler.” I found him in an adjoining room with
the dinner spread out on the floor, and in deep consultation with another
“poor black,” as to how much more they ought to remove from the dishes
before “butler” laid dinner before his master. I had the dinner restored
to the dishes, and on that occasion I found that the hotel-keeper
furnished much more than was necessary.
These anecdotes are necessary to show what I really saw, and how much the
“poor blacks” have the upper hand at Mauritius.
All ranks are entirely at the mercy of their servants, as the following
account of what occurred in an officer’s family will illustrate.
Colonel B. was celebrated for giving good dinners; and Mrs. B. used to
smile at the different tales which she heard of the servants in the
island.
She was in the habit of humouring the servants; and although they used
occasionally to absent themselves for days, and the colonel and his lady,
on returning from church on Sunday, have had to dine on cheese and bread,
as the butler was quite drunk under the dining-room table, and the cook
had fortified himself in the kitchen, threatening to run anyone through
who dared to invade his dominions—still Mrs. Colonel B. said “that these
‘poor blacks,’ had gratitude; for whenever they had a dinner-party they
never behaved badly.”
The colonel’s charming dinner-parties had an end, from the circumstances
arising out of the keeping up of their wedding-day. A nice party of
guests were invited, and everything went like a marriage feast, until
shortly before dinner, when the colonel’s dress boots were not to be
found anywhere. Better had he not troubled himself further about the said
boots. The butler was sent for, and he said he knew nothing about the
cause of the absence of the boots. Mrs. B. was appealed to, and she could
give no information. And the colonel at last told the butler that he
would make him pay for the missing boots.
Blackey immediately got saucy, and the colonel gave him a whipping. The
guests were arriving, the colonel hurried to meet them, and the boots
were forgotten.
Dinner was announced, and the party were ushered into the dining-room.
Soup and fish were served—and there was a considerable pause. The room
being left without a single attendant, Mrs. B. rose and retired to see
what was the cause of the delay. Along the passages, in the verandah, and
on the way to the kitchen, which was some distance from the house, she
met with no one. On entering the kitchen she found that also deserted.
She called, but no one answered.
Looking round for the dinner, she observed all the dishes standing on a
table, placed there for the purpose of serving the dinner up, preparatory
to taking it to the dining-room, and in the centre stood the colonel’s
boots which had been missing that day. In each boot she found a roasted
duck had been thrust, and over them the sweet sauce for pudding had been
poured.
The turkey was there, but it was garnished with cinders, and, in short,
a beautiful dinner was completely spoiled. At the sight of which poor
Mrs. B. fainted away. The colonel, soon afterwards making his appearance,
found his wife insensible, and his dinner ruined.
The above is a well-known story, and I could enumerate many more, but I
fear the reader’s patience is already well nigh exhausted.
From the law there is but little redress, for, when one imprisons
servants for punishment, the time, I was told, counts in the period of
their servitude. And if one takes the law into his own hand, by striking
the natives, a severe pecuniary penalty is, very properly, always
inflicted.
During my stay at Mauritius, my attention was called to the following
gross outrage committed under the British flag by an inhuman monster,
who, calling himself an Englishman, proceeds to distant parts of the
world, and, seizing unoffending natives in the most open manner, sells
them from under the British ensign into the most hopeless slavery.
In the month of August, 1857, the British barque “Sutton,” of Sydney, New
South Wales, under the command of Captain Joseph Wilson, called at Byron
Island, one of the King Mill group in the Pacific, and engaged William
Ferrier, an Englishman, who, with his family, had resided on that island
for more than sixteen years, as an interpreter, for the purpose, as
Captain Wilson stated, of enabling the barque “Sutton” to obtain a cargo
of cocoa-nuts from the neighbouring islands.
With Ferrier six of the natives of Byron Island were embarked on board
the “Sutton,” who formed the crew of his canoe; and the barque bore away
in search of cocoa-nuts—Captain Wilson agreeing to reland Ferrier and
his crew of natives on Byron Island as soon as he had effected his object
at the neighbouring islands.
At Perouse and Clarke Islands, Captain Wilson, with the assistance of the
interpreter Ferrier, induced sixty-five male natives to ship themselves
on board the “Sutton,” for the purpose of gathering cocoa-nuts, and with
the understanding that when he had accomplished this object the natives
would be relanded on the respective islands to which they belonged.
The King Mill group of islands are much frequented by whalers, more
especially those under the American flag. The natives are very peaceably
inclined towards Europeans; and these whaling vessels derive great
benefit from their crews being refreshed at these islands with supplies
of vegetables, fruit, &c., so necessary to prevent the fearful havoc
at times made among the men by the attacks of scurvy to which they are
subject, from their voyages being sometimes protracted even beyond three
years. It is, therefore, the policy of all shipmasters to treat the
natives on these islands with kindness, and hence the outrage which I am
now relating assumes even a more serious aspect than when merely viewing
it in an anti-slavery light.
Captain Joseph Wilson had heard of free labourers being in great demand
at the French island of Réunion; and, as the means by which this
description of labour was supplied from the province of Mozambique was
notorious, being styled everywhere “The French Slave-trade from Africa,”
he thought he would try his hand at it, and hit upon the above mode of
obtaining the raw material cheap. The reader will observe that he did not
overcrowd the ship—he only took sixty-five of the natives on board, for
the purpose of selling them; and to obtain a good price he was determined
to have them in good condition, and therefore gave them ample space
during their confinement on the long voyage he contemplated.
Having obtained his living cargo, he turned his face to the west in
search of a good market, and day and night the British barque “Sutton,”
with her cargo of slaves, was urged, under a press of canvas, to the
desired haven.
Captain Joseph Wilson, commanding the “Sutton,” was a bold man, for the
first land he made was the island of Mauritius; and he stood boldly for
the principal harbour in the island, viz., Port Louis; arrived off which
he hove-to, and waited for the shades of evening. I carefully searched
the list of all vessels boarded by the authorities of Port Louis in the
month of November, 1857, when the “Sutton” was off the harbour, but
her name does not appear in the list, showing that she did not come
sufficiently near to the entrance of the harbour to be visited by the
boarding officer. During the night on which the “Sutton” was hove-to off
Port Louis, Captain Wilson communicated with a mercantile house in that
town; and at dawn, the following day, he stood away for the neighbouring
French island of Réunion.
The British bark “Sutton,” which could not obtain a market for her living
cargo at Mauritius, with the English ensign flying at her peak, anchored
boldly off the island of Réunion, and sold her cargo at 40_l._ sterling
per head, realizing the sum of 2,600_l._
Captain Joseph Wilson also found a market for his vessel, and sold
the “Sutton” for 1,600_l._ sterling. Whether the ship was as much his
property as the natives of Byron Island whom he had stolen and sold,
I know not, but it appears that he left Réunion with 4,200_l._, and
repaired to Port Louis, Mauritius.
Captain Wilson was accompanied to the Mauritius by William Henry Meadows,
an American citizen, William Ferrier, and, I believe, four of the natives
forming the crew of Ferrier’s canoe.
Meadows, as far as I recollect, was the mate of the “Sutton,” and he was
obliged to appeal to the American consuls to make Captain Wilson provide
a passage for him and the four natives of Byron Island to Sydney. The
American consul refusing to interest himself for William Ferrier, who was
an Englishman, application was made to His Excellency the Governor of
Mauritius, to provide a passage for the unfortunate man to Sydney, from
which port it was expected the authorities would forward him to Byron
Island. The man Ferrier was at Port Louis during my stay there, and I saw
him on two occasions.
I have heard that a prosecution, instituted by the authorities at Sydney,
against Captain Joseph Wilson, of the late British barque “Sutton,”
failed, from some cause with which I am unacquainted, and that this
affair has caused much indignation at Sydney.
In the Mercantile Marine List there are four master-mariners holding
certificates under the name of Joseph Wilson; but having been informed
that there was no difficulty in identifying the person referred to as the
perpetrator of the above outrage, so degrading to our national character,
and that he was in England some months since, I did what I conceived was
my duty to the cause of humanity by dragging this thief to justice; and
if he has not received that punishment which he so richly deserves, it is
from no dereliction of duty on my part.
From the perusal of such a perfidious act it is a pleasant relief to
turn to that of one of the noblest deeds of the many which have been
performed by the mercantile marine of Great Britain. While at Port Louis
I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Captain Castle, of the
“Sarah Sands;” and as my wife had seen that vessel on her first visit to
the United States, where she was gazed upon at that time as a prodigy of
marine construction, we made up a small party to visit the wreck of this
once noble ship.
We found her lying in the inner harbour; and, looking at her hull, one
would never expect to see the ruin which a view from the remaining
portions of her deck presented to the astonished spectators. This
vessel was bound with troops to India, and when about 200 miles off the
island of Mauritius she was reported to be on fire. Immediately the
usual measures for overcoming this frightful calamity were resorted
to by those on board. Large supplies of water were furnished from all
parts of the ship to destroy the destroyer; but it was found that the
fire was too powerful for the rival element, and that it was closely
adjoining a considerable portion of powder, which was stowed away in the
after-compartment of the vessel.
The cool commanding mind of Captain Castle was equal to the emergency;
and well did he prove himself deserving of the command of one of the
finest vessels in our mercantile navy. Order was maintained throughout;
and to the exertions of the noble crew of the “Sarah Sands,” led by their
gallant commander, and seconded by the admirable discipline of the troops
on board, the safety of all may unquestionably be attributed.
Finding that the raging element had obtained possession of the after-part
of the vessel, the boats were carefully lowered, and the ladies, women,
and children placed in them. An officer of the ship was despatched in
command of the boats, with orders to keep them at a distance—so that, if
the vessel blew up, those in the boats would be uninjured.
In the meanwhile, the most daring spirits on board, regardless of the
suffocating smoke and the scorching flames, boldly approached the powder,
and dragged it up through the raging element, package after package, to
be cast into the sea. Blackened and speechless, these brave men were
dragged up from the hold of the vessel by the ropes which they had
secured round their bodies before descending—although insensible from
the heat, still holding in their grasp the kegs of powder. These were
succeeded by others as daring, who, on being dragged on deck, were again
relieved by their predecessors, whose recovery was effected by dashing
water over them. While this fearful struggle of the most daring valour
with death was taking place, the hose were playing upon the raging fire,
and rafts were being constructed on each side of the ship, for the
purpose of saving at least a portion of the apparently doomed band.
The ship was built of iron, and fortunately in compartments. The fire had
arisen in the after-compartment, and the most incredible exertions were
made to confine it there. The decks were ripped up and sawed across to
prevent the fire spreading; further forward, across the deck, partitions
were formed of wet blankets, which, being deluged with water, prevented
the fire spreading. At last the fire, in spite of superhuman efforts,
obtained the upper hand; the flames soared high into the heavens, and as
they overcame all human efforts, the cry of anguish might be heard from
the passive spectators in the boats. Imploring voices asked for the boats
to approach the burning ship, in the hope of saving some loved ones among
that doomed band; but the young officer in command, even in that trying
hour, obeyed the orders which he had received from his chief, and kept
the boats at a safe distance.
At last those grown reckless by their former success in obtaining the
coveted kegs of powder had to be held forcibly back from flinging
themselves into the flames, in the hope of obtaining the few remaining
kegs, and thereby saving the ship from the impending destruction. In this
noble rivalry a quarter-master belonging to the crew, and a sergeant of
the regiment embarked, were the most conspicuous.
Some portion of the powder yet remained in the after-compartment, and
over it the flames enjoyed their dance of death; high up they soared,
licking the top-mast shrouds, and encircling the mizen-mast with ropes of
fire.
The boom, the gaff, the deck, all had disappeared, and ever and anon, as
the ship rolled from side to side, and the flames leaped to starboard or
to port, the iron beams which had formerly supported the decks were seen
of a fiery red, forming an awful lattice-work, through which the burning
element raged with its fearful roar. At last the beams began to bend
with their own weight, and the pressure of the sea on the sides of the
vessel. The rafts were rapidly building; but moments were felt by all as
days. Meanwhile the smoke rose dark and lowering into the heavens, making
the sky even look fiery, and forming a beacon far and near on the Indian
Ocean. From the foremast head the horizon was anxiously scanned, but no
telescope on board could bring to the eye the promised “sail of hope.”
The awful hour was fast approaching when life or death would be
pronounced for those on board that ship. The powder pent up in that fiery
cavern must soon ignite, and, bursting through the ship’s sides, let in
the sea either to save or engulph them.
At last the moment came—the explosion took place—and hearts which never
quailed before for an instant ceased to beat.
The mighty ship reeled and staggered like a drunken man; the waves
surged high and rushed upon her; the raging fire yelled and hissed, and
roared again. Then all was still—a cloud of steam marking where the
fire had been. That awful silence was broken by the captain’s voice
exclaiming:—“Thanks be to God, she’s saved!” But, before the fervent
“Amens” had reached him, again was heard his resolute tone of command to
“man the pumps!”
Again was hope deferred. The ship was sinking fast! It was perceptible
to all. Down—down—she was gradually settling—there was no mistaking the
feeling!
The excitement of another struggle with the element which had destroyed
the fire now took place. The pumps were manned, and buckets, tubs,
everything was used to bale out the water.
Captain Castle, always collected, soon found that one quarter was blown
out of the ship, while the stern and the other quarter still held
together. He rapidly formed a temporary breakwater of plank and canvas,
to keep out the body of the sea; then hooking relieving tackles on
the rudder outside of the ship (for the tiller and head of the rudder
were burnt away), he manœuvred his vessel, which was under steam, until
he got her in such a position that the injured portion of the vessel
was sheltered from the violence of the sea. He then built a temporary
bulkhead, and with the pumps going night and day, he brought the “Sarah
Sands,” without a compass, sextant, or chronometer, into Port Louis, a
distance of two hundred miles from that spot on the Indian Ocean where
this disaster originated.
The officers and their families lost everything; and indeed the ladies
landed at Mauritius in canvas dresses made by them out of the ship’s
stores. The hospitable reception afforded to all on board the “Sarah
Sands” by the people of Mauritius can never be forgotten by the grateful
recipients; while the memory of Captain Castle, his coolness and courage,
will be the theme of admiration wherever the name of the “Sarah Sands” is
heard. And yet—must I write it?—no reward has been conferred on him for
saving a regiment which afterwards did such gallant service in India,
and contributed to the saving of our Eastern Empire.