[Illustration:
COMMODORE R. F. STOCKTON.
_United States Navy_
]
DECK AND PORT;
OR,
INCIDENTS OF A CRUISE
IN THE
UNITED STATES FRIGATE CONGRESS
TO
CALIFORNIA.
WITH SKETCHES OF RIO JANEIRO, VALPARAISO, LIMA, HONOLULU, AND SAN
FRANCISCO.
BY
REV. WALTER COLTON, U. S. N.,
AUTHOR OF “SHIP AND SHORE,” ETC.
NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY A. S. BARNES & CO.,
NO. 51 JOHN-STREET.
CINCINNATI:—H. W. DERBY & CO.
1850.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year Eighteen Hundred and
fifty,
BY A. S. BARNES & COMPANY,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
STEREOTYPED BY
RICHARD C. VALENTINE,
NEW YORK
F. C. GUTIERREZ, Printer,
No. 51 John-street, corner of Dutch.
TO
THOMAS I. WHARTON, ESQ.
OF PHILADELPHIA,
This Volume
IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY HIS FRIEND
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE.
On joining the United States frigate Congress, fitting for sea, at
Norfolk, and destined to the Pacific, I commenced a journal, in which I
sketched down the incidents of each day, as they occurred. It was more a
whim of the hour, than any purpose connected with the public press. It
was a diverting experiment on the monotony of a sea-life; was continued
because it had been begun—and the present volume is the result. The
streamlet flows from gathered drops.
I send it to the press as it was written, except the division into
chapters, which has been made at the suggestion of the publishers, who
perhaps, think the yarn will reel better if the thread be broken. It
undoubtedly contains passages which may seem light and irrelevant; but a
diary has privileges, in this respect, which are not extended to
compositions of a graver character. He who gathers what the chance wind
may shake from the trees of his garden, will find some leaves as well as
fruit in his basket; and he may find there the nest of some insect that
has a sting in it, but this he has no right to send to market. He may
send the leaves—perhaps their sear hues may set off the bloom of his
fruit, as a wrinkle the rouge through which age sometimes seeks to blush
back again into youth.
The members of Congress are responsible for any typographical errors
which the volume may contain, for they so lumbered the mails, between
Washington—where the proofs were sent—and New York, with their speeches,
that my publishers had about as little chance of getting a corrected
copy through this travelling Babel, as they would have had in finding a
righteous man in Sodom after Lot had left. I know it seems cruel to roll
the responsibility of blunders on a body of men who have errors enough
of their own to answer for. But the evil one himself is held accountable
for the sins of half the world.
Having thus conveniently disposed of all responsibility, I leave my Deck
and Port to the wave and strand, where they belong. Wreckers will
receive no salvage from me—they must make the most of the floating
planks. I only ask them not to scuttle the craft before she strikes.
W. C.
NOTE.
The incidents which connected the officers of the Pacific Squadron and
of the army, and many other prominent persons, with public events in
California, are not reached by the Diary of this volume; they fall
within the three years which are reserved for another work, entitled
“_Three Years in California_.”
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.—PREPARATIONS FOR THE VOYAGE.
Orders to the Congress.—Passengers’ poop-cabin.—Passing U. S.
ship Pennsylvania.—Divine service.—Waiting the
wind.—Rip-raps.—Internal arrangements.—Library of the
crew.—Ship cheered.—Departure of the pilot Page 13
CHAPTER II.—PASSAGE FROM NORFOLK TO RIO DE JANEIRO.
A culprit.—Corporal punishments.—Divine service.—A bird.—A
gale.—Grandeur of the Gulf stream.—Man missing.—Tracts on
board.—Waterspout.—Life at sea.—An eclipse.—The
sick-bay.—Moral mechanism of a man-of-war.—Speaking a
brig.—Departure of Mr. Beale.—Death of Spillier.—Astor-House
sailor.—Universalist chaplain.—A petrel.—Speaking a
ship.—Departure of Mr. Norris.—Crossing the
equator.—Southern constellations.—A man lost.—Land ho! 22
CHAPTER III.—RIO DE JANEIRO.
Bay of Rio.—Scenery.—Aspect of the city.—Royal palace and
chapel.—Lancers and baby.—Miseracordia.—Aqueduct.—Morning
ride.—Botanic garden.—Tea-plant.—The Sabbath in
Rio.—Museum.—Nunnery.—Jealousy of husbands.—A pompous
funeral.—The Plymouth.—Hon. Henry A.
Wise.—Slave-trade.—Marriages and domestic
arrangements.—Political condition of the
Brazilians.—Treatment of the
slaves.—Religion.—Washerwomen.—San Antonio.—Climate.—The
unknown couple.—Diamonds.—Farewell to Rio 86
CHAPTER IV.—PASSAGE FROM RIO TO CAPE HORN.
Getting under way.—The letter-bag.—Runaway sailor.—Isle of St.
Catharine.—Pamperoes.—The shotted gun.—Loss of our coon.—The
sailor and shark.—General quarters at night.—Fireworks in
the sea.—The phantom ship.—Patagonians.—The Falkland
Islands.—The captured albatros.—Terrific gale.—Condition of
our frigate.—The sailor’s burial.—The cape of storms 125
CHAPTER V.—PASSAGE FROM CAPE HORN TO VALPARAISO.
Gale.—Habits of the albatros and penguin.—The sea off Cape
Horn.—Sleet and hail.—Farewell to the Cape.—Directions for
doubling the Cape.—Gale in the Pacific.—Appearance of the
stars.—A rainbow.—Divine service.—The razor at sea.—The
little bark.—Plum-pudding and tripe.—The
Cordilleras.—Arrival at Valparaiso Page 156
CHAPTER VI.—SKETCHES OF VALPARAISO.
Aspect of the city.—Groups on the quay.—Chilian
horsemanship.—The women.—Huts of the natives.—American and
English society.—Opera-house.—The tertulia.—Mode of
travelling.—Police of the city.—Visits from the
shore.—Feudal system.—The clergy.—The Bible in Chili.—The
confessional.—Burial-ground.—The Indian mother.—Political
condition of Chili.—Farewell to Valparaiso 191
CHAPTER VII.—PASSAGE FROM VALPARAISO TO CALLAO.
Flare up of the Pacific.—Songs of seamen.—Sailors on
shore.—Loss of the Samson of our ship.—The setting sun at
sea.—Our Astor-House sailor.—The mad poet of the crew.—Land
ho!—Aspect of Callao.—Appearance of the natives.—The burial
isle 219
CHAPTER VIII.—SKETCHES OF LIMA.
Incidents of the road.—The grand plaza.—Shops and houses.—The
saya y manto.—American lady.—Mixture of races.—Demeanor of
girls and boys.—Procession on Palm Sunday.—Convent of the
Franciscans.—Doctors of Lima.—Good Friday.—The Last
Supper.—Pilate’s court.—Garden of Gethsemane.—Close of
Lent.—Jubilations.—Climate.—An officer in
prison.—Lawyers.—The Indian’s eyrie.—Lottery.—Bull-fight 234
CHAPTER IX.—SKETCHES OF LIMA.
Education of females.—Marriages.—Lapses from virtue.—The
sunset bell.—Silk factory in a convent.—Habits of the
Indians.—The half wedlock.—Blind pedler.—Protestant youth in
Lima.—Religion of the Limanians.—Intrigues at court.—Modes
of living.—The Zampas.—Churches.—Indian doctors.—Fruits of
the country.—Old Spanish families.—Masses for the repose Of
the soul 265
CHAPTER X.—PASSAGE FROM CALLAO TO HONOLULU.
Departure from Callao.—The rum smuggler.—Sunset.—Sea-birds.—A
sailor’s defence.—General quarters.—Spirit ration.—The
sailor and religion.—The flag.—Sagacity of the rat.—The
cloud.—Calms and showers.—Religious
tracts.—Constellations.—Trade winds.—Conduct of the
crew.—Moon in the zenith.—Lay sermon.—Funeral.—Land ho! 299
CHAPTER XI.—SKETCHES OF HONOLULU.
Bay of Honolulu.—Kanacka funeral.—The missionaries.—Huts and
habits of the natives.—Taro-plant.—Roast dog.—School of the
young chiefs.—Ride in the country.—The
Mausoleum.—Cocoanut-tree.—Canoes.—Heathen temple.—King’s
chapel.—Ride to Ewa.—Father Bishop.—His sable flock 328
CHAPTER XII.—SKETCHES OF HONOLULU.
The king and court.—American commissioner.—Royal
residence.—The salt lake.—Surf sports of the natives.—Gala
day.—The women on horseback.—Sailor’s equestrianism.—The old
man and the children at play.—Address of Com.
Stockton.—Capt. La Place.—His Jesuits and brandy.—Lord
George Paulet 348
CHAPTER XIII.—PASSAGE FROM HONOLULU TO MONTEREY.
The moral pharos.—The Mormon ship.—Bible class.—The
sea-hen.—Our insane sailor.—Fourth of July.—Profaneness at
sea.—Evening prayer-meeting.—Funeral.—Target
firing.—Religious condition of the crew.—Anchor under
Monterey 367
CHAPTER XIV.—GLANCES INTO CALIFORNIA.
Sailors on shore as soldiers.—The bear flag.—Capt. Fremont and
armed band.—Departure of Admiral Seymour.—San
Francisco.—Aspect of the town.—Habits of the people.—Spirit
of speculation.—Gambling.—Effects of the gold mines.—Past
and present condition of the country 386
[Illustration: [Transcriber note: Map of voyage.]]
DECK AND PORT.
CHAPTER I.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE VOYAGE.
ORDERS TO THE CONGRESS.—PASSENGERS’ POOP-CABIN.—PASSING U. S. SHIP
PENNSYLVANIA.—DIVINE SERVICE.—WAITING THE WIND.—RIP-RAPS.—INTERNAL
ARRANGEMENTS.—LIBRARY OF THE CREW.—SHIP CHEERED.—DEPARTURE OF THE
PILOT.
To sea! to sea! thy soft shore life
Must wrestle on the deck,
Where winds and waters meet in strife,
To revel o’er the wreck.
While enjoying the luxury of sea-bathing at Sachem’s Head, I received an
order to report for duty on board the U. S. Frigate Congress, fitting
for sea at Norfolk. The order came as unexpectedly as thunder out of a
cloudless sky. But never having declined an order of the department
during the many years that I have been in the navy, I determined not to
dishonor a good rule on this occasion, and informed the secretary that I
should report agreeable to his instructions, but requested the
indulgence of a few days in which to make my preparations. The reply
was, that the ship was ready for sea, that the other officers were on
board, and I must hasten at once to my post. My trunks were immediately
packed, my books boxed, and in twenty-four hours I was on board the
Congress. Home, and all that makes that home dear, exchanged at once for
the bustle of a man-of-war! It was like throwing a bird from its nest
upon the whirlwind: not that I have any thing in common with a bird,
unless it be a sort of involuntary cheerfulness when the storm-cloud has
passed. I have never yet met with a picture all the features of which
were dark. There is a star even in the night of the grave.
I found the frigate nearly ready for sea. The honorable secretary, as if
to hasten our departure, paid us a farewell visit. We returned the
compliment in a parting salute. We were now ready to weigh anchor and
make sail, when an order came for us to take out as passengers a
commissioner and a consul to the Sandwich Islands, with their families,
twelve individuals in all. The question was, where shall they be
accommodated? Every part of the ship was already occupied. Another order
soon came for the construction of a poop-cabin. Some thirty carpenters
were immediately set at work, but its completion occupied three weeks.
In the mean time some of the officers, whose homes were less remote, had
an opportunity of visiting their families. I was enabled to finish my
preparations, complete my wardrobe, and take a decent leave of one from
whom I had been hurried away as the culprit,
“Who fitted the halter and traversed the cart,
And often looked back as if loath to depart.”
SATURDAY, OCT. 25, 1845. The poop-cabin being finished, commissioner,
consul, and families, quartered in it, stores laid in, the commodore on
board, an order was given to unmoor. In a few minutes our anchors were
up and we were proceeding under a light land-breeze towards the sea.
Passing the Pennsylvania, where she lay in her majesty and strength, we
gave her a parting salute, which she returned in thunder from her
frowning batteries. She frowned not on us; she seemed to grieve, “if
aught inanimate e’er grieves,” that she must lie there and rot, and we
be bounding over the billows. She seemed like a daring eagle that has
never been permitted to soar into its element and unfurl its strong
pinions on the storm. The Titan chained to the Caucasian rock stayed his
proud heart on his past triumphs, but this noble ship perishes without a
solitary achievement to relieve her indignant doom. On reaching Hampton
Roads the wind came out ahead, and we were obliged to let go our
anchors. An air of disappointment was visible among the crew. I once
started on a journey in a splendid carriage, broke down in sight of my
own home, and learned a lesson of submission that will never wholly
desert me. Calamities are our best instructors.
SUNDAY, OCT. 26. The wind still ahead. This being the sabbath, we had
divine service. The crew were attentive: not the rustle of a hand or
foot disturbed the stillness; the speaker’s voice only broke the silence
of the deck. The text was the injunction of the prophet, “Go up now,
look towards the sea.” The object of the speaker was to sketch the stern
magnificence of the ocean as illustrating the majesty of God; to exhibit
the effects of an ocean life on the social and moral character of man;
and to inculcate the great lesson, that into whatever climes we may
penetrate, through whatever seas we may pass, we cannot escape from the
presence of the Deity. The effects of our moral teachings may in many
instances never be revealed in this life, but the time will come, when
they will be fully recognised. They are like underground streams which
will yet rush to the light.
MONDAY, OCT. 27. Still in Hampton Roads. The day has passed with scarce
a breath of wind from any quarter. The sun has set in gorgeous splendor.
Evening has spread its purple light over sea and land. Only here and
there a cloud floats through the star-lit depths of heaven. The fortress
of the old Rip-raps lifts its giant form in savage grandeur from the
wave; and yet the moonlight sleeps upon it so lovingly, you half forget
its chained thunder. It seems as some submarine monster that had shoved
its head up through the sea, to glance at the wonders of earth. Gaze on,
thou Titan of the deep! Thou hearest not the death-knell which shakes
the heart of nations: thou seest only the verdure which waves in
fragrant life and beauty over the dust of ages. Thou heedest not the
sorrows of the millions that have sunk to the silent shroud. Earth is a
charnel-house, but thou knowest it not. It is death’s empire. Go look
into some world where sin hath not been, and where man has not marred
the works of his Maker.
TUESDAY, OCT. 28. Our ship still riding in the Roads, with forty sail
around wind-bound like ourselves. We went to general quarters at ten
o’clock, exercised the guns, passed powder, called away the boarders,
and went through all the forms of a real engagement at sea. It is
singular what an enthusiasm even a mimic battle can create; what then
must be the excitement of the reality! The sailors are proud of our
frigate; and well may they be; she is a splendid specimen of naval
architecture. For capacity, strength, and harmony of proportions, she
stands in her class without a rival in the world. She is so much a
favorite in the service that one old sailor travelled all the way from
Pensacola to Norfolk in the mail stage, and at his own expense, to join
her. We had our complement of seamen, but his was so strong a case he
could not be denied.
We number about five hundred souls, all told; have laid in provisions
and fuel for five months, with fifty thousand gallons of water, and
sails and rigging sufficient to replace what is now in use, should
emergency demand. How such a mass of life and material can be brought
within a frigate’s capacity, and yet leave “scope and verge” enough for
action and repose, is a mystery which can be comprehended only by those
who are versed in nautical economy. The housewife who grumbles over the
intrusion of an additional piece of furniture, should look into a
man-of-war, and she will go home with the conviction that she can sleep
quite comfortably in the cradle with her infant. How beautiful is an
infant waking out of its sweet slumber, and opening its soft blue eyes
upon the face of its mother! But what has this to do with our getting
under way?
WEDNESDAY, OCT. 29. Our anchors still sleep in the sands of Hampton
Roads—a slumber which we now think the morrow will break. The wind has
been light and varying, but inclining towards the right quarter, though
hesitatingly, as a diffident youth in his first declaration of love. How
the words on such an occasion will stick in a man’s throat!—worse,
indeed, than Macbeth’s prayer, trying to struggle up from the grasp of
his guilty conscience.
I have been occupied to-day in arranging in suitable cases the library
of the crew—a library comprising between three and four hundred volumes.
For many of the miscellaneous and religious books in this library I am
indebted to the Presbyterian Board of Publication, to the Sunday School
Union, to the American Tract Society, and to the liberality of Commodore
Stockton. My acknowledgments are also due to the American Bible Society
for a donation of Bibles adequate to the wants of the crew. No national
ship ever left a port of the United States more amply provided with
books suited to the habits and capacities of those on board. This
desideratum has been supplied, so far as the crew is concerned, with
comparatively little aid from the department. The government furnishes
the sailor with grog to burn up his body, a Christian liberality with
books to save his soul. The whisky-ration is a curse to the service, and
a damning blot on our national legislation.
THURSDAY, OCT. 30. The long looked for breeze came at last. It was a
south wester; and at daylight this morning we weighed anchor and got
under way. When we had cleared the capes of Old Virginia, all hands were
called, and Commodore Stockton delivered the following brief and
appropriate address to the officers and crew:—
“Captain Du Pont and officers—
“Your reputation in the service is a sufficient guaranty that the cruise
before us will enlist your highest energies and zeal.”
“Men—
“Your conduct since you have been on board this ship justifies the
strongest confidence in your fidelity. Above us floats the flag of our
country; to your patriotism and undaunted valor I intrust its honor,
dearer to me than life. We now sail for California and Oregon, and then,
where it may please Heaven.”
Then, turning to the chaplain, he said—
“You will offer up our prayers to Almighty God for his protection.”
This service performed, the broad pennant was saluted, the ship cheered,
and the band struck up “Hail Columbia.”
The whole ceremony was well calculated to inspire a jealous regard for
the honor of our flag, and impress sentiments of dependence on the
divine protection-so well becoming those who go down to the sea in
ships, who do business on the great waters, and who see the wonders of
the Lord in the deep.
Commodore Stockton invited the officers into the cabin to an elegant
entertainment. Sentiments connected with country, home, and those left
behind, passed feelingly around. The pilot now took his departure with
our letter-bag. How many affections, hopes, and fears, that little hasty
mail took back! If you would know how dear home is, start on a three
years’ cruise. How the heart clings to the living, recalls the dead, and
restores the forgotten! How all animosities die and give place to love!
I do not wonder the Greek and Roman dreaded exile more than death. What
is earth without a home?
Farewell! the shore is fading fast,
The wind is piping free,
The pennant, from our gallant mast,
Points to the dark blue sea.