Capture of the Governor--His execution--I am led out of my
prison--The burning of the bodies--Governor Gamero’s character--His
intercourse with the native tribes--The Priest Acuna--Arrival of H.
B. M. war steamer Virago--Mr. Dunn, the Secretary--Cambiaso plans
the capture of the steamer--He fears her force and discipline--The
officers invited on shore--No suspicions aroused--The Virago sets
sail.
On the afternoon of the day of these executions, Cambiaso sent out
two or three parties of soldiers, well armed, under one of the chief
officers, and all on horseback, with directions to take the governor
and his party, and bring them in, dead or alive. They had accurate
information of their hiding place from the traitor, and by surrounding
the bushes, and gradually beating in, they succeeded in capturing them,
and about sunset brought them in, and they were soon heavily ironed.
I heard that they were terribly emaciated, and scarcely able to stand,
from weakness, having lived for nearly a week on nothing but roots
and berries. Cambiaso ordered them to be served with a good dinner,
saying that they should go with a belly-full, and then thrust them
into the calaboose, where captain Avalos and the other prisoners were
confined. Captain Avalos told me afterwards that neither the governor
or the priest showed any signs of fear, but when he asked them if they
knew their fate, they answered coolly, “Oh, yes!” Cambiaso seemed to
intend to surround this execution with all the pomp and solemnity that
he could command. About nine, in the evening, there was a general
rush through the camp. The bugles sounded the death march, the drums
beat, the soldiers were all ordered under arms, and governor Gamero and
the priest Acuna were led out of the barracks. All was still in the
yard after they left, and in a short time I heard the report of their
death shots. They were shot under the same trees to which Mr. Shaw and
captain Talbot had been tied.
In about an hour I was called out of my room, and told that I was
wanted in the yard. I went out doggedly, for this day of excitement
had worn me down into a sort of indifference as to my fate; but the
scene that lay before me when I reached the platform, which, raised
above the rest of the yard, commanded a view of the land beyond the
fortification, roused me at once from my indifference. In the field
north of the barracks, was dug a deep hole, in which a large fire was
kindled, which threw its red light on all around. On the trees, to the
right, hung the dead bodies of Mr. Shaw, captain Talbot, and the boy,
and beneath them were dimly seen the bleeding corpses of the governor
and priest. The rebels were busied around the fire and the bodies,
and Cambiaso, with some mounted officers, were to be seen giving
directions. Soon I saw a cart driven up to the fire, and a dead body
thrown from it into the flames, with as little ceremony as one would
treat a dog. One of my guard standing by me, said, “There goes the
governor.” The bodies of Mr. Shaw, captain Talbot, and the poor English
boy were one by one cut down, and thrust into the fire. The women of
the camp had pleaded with Cambiaso to allow the body of the priest to
be buried, and he, having perhaps some feelings of reverence for his
sacred office, had allowed it to be given into their hands. More fuel
was now heaped on the flames, and their lurid light showed me a scene
which makes me shudder as I recall it.
The soldiers danced round the fire, singing the national hymn of Chili,
and mingling with it shouts and curses, imprecations on the governor,
and threats of vengeance against the remaining prisoners; especially
against captain Salas, the commander of the troops under Gamero, and
against captain Avalos, whose rank as an officer under the government
of Chili seemed to be his only crime. The darkness of the night, the
lurid glare of the flames, the fantastic dancing of the soldiers, the
mingled shouts and curses that met my ear, made every thing appear to
me like some revelry in hell, where the souls of the damned make merry
over their fellow sufferers. On this evening the barque’s papers, also
my private papers, were burnt, with shouts of joy.
I was kept on the platform until the flames had died down, when three
cheers were given by the soldiers around the fire, and answered by
those within the yard; and soon after, I was ordered back to my prison,
to endure another night of anxiety.
The mate eagerly asked me what I thought was going to happen next, but
I answered him shortly, and turned from him, for I felt the necessity
of calming my mind, after such excitement.
That night I passed in close communion with myself, strengthening my
soul to meet whatever might be before me, and rousing my energies to
seize every opportunity to escape from the hands of such blood-thirsty
fiends. The morning found me calmer, and more full of energy and
determination, than any moment since my captivity. If Cambiaso ordered
me to be brought out on the platform in order to intimidate me, he did
not know his man. The sight, instead of depressing me, roused in me a
spirit of revenge, and determined me to retaliate the wrongs which I
had seen inflicted on my friend.
Governor Gamero was a post captain in the Chilian army; his name,
Benjamin Numoz Gamero. I afterwards heard him spoken of as a man of
fine character, and of excellent judgment. Under his directions, the
colony had grown in prosperity and in discipline. He had built some
very comfortable barracks for the soldiers, and some good houses
for the officers. The convicts had been employed in clearing and
cultivating the ground, and intercourse and trade with the Indians of
the country had been encouraged.
The native tribes around the colony had always shown themselves
friendly to the settlement; and, as I learnt, had been in the habit
of coming down to the barracks about once a month, bringing with them
game, and other articles, which they were anxious to exchange for
flour, bread, and so forth. They generally formed themselves on a line,
on the north side of the barracks, and the governor would range his
troops upon the platform, above the fence, and put in their view the
two cannon, the noise of which they had often heard, and of which they
had a superstitious dread. The chiefs would then come forward and meet
the governor outside the fence, and arrange their terms of barter.
Of the clergyman, Acuna, I know but little. The reverence of the women
of the colony for him, certainly speaks in his favor.
The morning of the 4th of December, while the mate and myself were
eating our scanty allowance of hard bread, washed down by the water
which we had taken from the dirty buckets in the guard room, a shout
rose in the yard, “A steamer! a war steamer, with the English flag!”
My heart leaped to my mouth, as I sprung to my feet, and the mate
seemed to gather courage from the very sense of the vicinity of his
countrymen, and from his confidence in the protection of his flag.
One moment’s glance showed me that even amidst their excitement, some
of the guards were watching us from the other room; and managing
to caution the mate by a glance, I endeavored to assume as natural
an air as possible, listening and asking questions as if from mere
curiosity. I gathered from the guard and from the idlers round the
camp who flocked in, that Cambiaso had expressed his determination to
attempt to capture the steamer; that the Chilian flag had been run up
at the flag-staff, and a gun fired to attract the attention of the
steamer, and induce them to come into the harbor and drop anchor. At
last, she was seen to make for the harbor, and to be evidently making
preparations to anchor. Her name, they told me, was the Virago.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
During the last hour, the mate and myself had been forming a thousand
plans by which we hoped to attract the attention of the officers or
men of the steamer, when they landed, and warn them of their own
danger, and of our situation; but our plans were quickly frustrated;
for no sooner had the steamer come to anchor, than the mate and myself
were hurriedly taken from our room, and led across the yard towards a
smaller building. In vain I questioned those who were leading me, as to
where I was going; my only answer was a hasty oath, and an order to be
quiet. The door of the little calaboose was opened, and we were pushed
into a room about eight feet square, and the bolts drawn behind us.
Before me, sitting or lying on the floor, were six haggard looking men,
heavily ironed. I spoke to them in Spanish, but was answered by one of
them in good English, who said, “You are the captain of the American
barque?” I started with surprise, for I immediately thought him an
American; and I saw that he was a gentleman, or something beyond a
common sailor. And what American could be confined there, not belonging
to the Florida? Could there have been another vessel captured by these
pirates, of which I had heard nothing? “Who are you?” I eagerly asked;
“are you an American? How came you in this wretched place?”
He answered that his name was Dunn, and that he was a Brazilian, who
had been employed by governor Gamero as his secretary. That he had
been seized by Cambiaso’s orders, at the time of his insurrection, and
confined in that filthy den ever since.
While he was speaking, one of our guard knocked on the door, and
ordered silence, saying that he would shoot down the first one of us
who troubled him again.
The next three hours we spent in anxious listening to what was going
on without; Mr. Dunn and myself now and then exchanging a word in a
whisper. Every attempt that we made to look from our little window was
prevented by our guard, who stood closely gathered about both door and
window, every now and then looking in upon us. Without, all was very
still and orderly; no noisy rioting to be heard, nothing, save every
now and then the tread of soldiers, or the usual noises attending the
regular military duty of a barrack yard. We expected every moment to
hear the noise of firing, or some shout of exultation, if the officers
of the Virago were entrapped as we had been; but all was quiet.
Towards the middle of the afternoon, the English mate and myself were
taken out, and conducted to our old prison. All was quiet in the
yard, and as I glanced around, I saw no new faces, no change in the
arrangement of the soldiers, no building guarded but those which I had
been accustomed to recognize as prisons for my crew, the crew of the E.
Cornish, and the room where captain Avalos, and the prisoners with him,
were confined.
Arrived at our old home, the guard became more communicative, and
told me that our prison had been changed to keep us out of sight of
the English officers, who had come on shore, visited the barracks,
and the Florida, and had left the harbor without having their
suspicions excited. This chance of escape was lost to us then. I felt
very indignant at what seemed to me the unparalleled stupidity of the
officers of the Virago, and yet it is very possible that had their
suspicions been excited, we might all have fallen victims to the
revengeful spirit of the rebels, before any thing could have been done
for our rescue.
During that evening and the next day, I managed to extract from my
guard and from one or two of my fellow voyagers, the Chilian prisoners,
who had now become almost regular visitors to my room, an account of
all that had occurred during the visit of the Virago to the colony.
On the steamer’s casting anchor, Cambiaso had manifested a great desire
to capture her; probably expecting something of a prize on board of
her, and perhaps wishing to have in his hands so powerful a vessel.
He had called a meeting of his officers, to consult upon the most
advisable plan to pursue, to accomplish the capture. The first plan
proposed, was that which had been so successful in our case and that
of the English brig: to seize the officers as they came on shore, and
kill them at once, to avoid the necessity of employing men to guard
them; then to board the steamer and take her, having first enticed away
as many of the officers and crew as possible. The sight of the big
guns, which showed their teeth all along the side of the steamer; their
knowledge of the excellent discipline on board a British man-of-war; of
the capability of even the smallest midshipman to take command of the
crew in case of the absence of the superior officers, all deterred the
pirates from attempting this plan of capture.
The difficulties in the way of the capture were, I heard, discussed
very freely; general Garcia being most earnest in insisting upon them.
The chief, or rather the first difficulty suggested by him, was that
the officers might come on shore so well attended that a fight might be
necessary, to overcome them; and that the noise of the struggle might
excite the suspicions of those on board, when the whole colony would
be at the mercy of the guns of the Virago. This plan was put to the
vote among the officers, and after voting upon it nine times, it was
rejected. Once, I was told, it came within one vote of being accepted.
The next proposition was worthy of the blood-thirsty wretches. It
was that such officers should be invited to dine with Cambiaso, he
supporting the character of governor of the colony; and that poison
should be mingled with some of the dishes of which the officers were
to partake; but this plan also was rejected. The rebels must have
felt that it was too uncertain, even if human nature did not make
them feel something revolting in it. It was then proposed that some
of the officers of Cambiaso should be sent on board the steamer, with
an invitation to the captain to land, and that they should, on their
return, report the appearance of things. This was agreed to, and the
spies were sent; but their report of the order and discipline on board,
the well manned guns, the well drilled marines, determined Cambiaso to
give up all hopes of capturing the vessel, and to confine himself to
attempting to elude suspicion. The officers of the Virago landed, and
were shown through the fortification and the colony, Cambiaso attending
them. I was told that one of the prisoners, Mr. Dunn, who talked
both English and Spanish, was taken from his prison, and after being
threatened with instant death if he revealed the true state of things,
was employed to interpret for Cambiaso; while at the same time two of
the rebels who had some knowledge of English, were ordered to watch
him, and report any thing which might sound suspicious.
The captain of the Virago asked what vessels those were lying at
anchor. Cambiaso answered that they belonged to him; remarking that the
brig had prisoners on board of her--some of the convicts whom he had
not the conveniences for keeping in close confinement on shore; and
that as the vessel was only used as a prison, there would be nothing
interesting to them in going on board of her.
The captain and officers afterwards visited the Florida, from which
all my crew had been removed except the steward, a negro man, and on
board which were living five or six of Cambiaso’s followers. How the
English officers could be so blind as not to read on the stern of the
barque the name, “Florida, of New Orleans,” and on the brig, “Eliza
Cornish, of Liverpool,” or not to have their suspicions excited, if
they did read those names, is incomprehensible to me. It would seem
that their own common sense would have told them that such a colony
could not hold vessels; or if it did, that the vessels would be
Chilian--not American, or English. I was told that Cambiaso made the
captain a present of eighty or ninety tons of coal, of which the Virago
was in need; but I could not but think there must be some mistake about
this. The coal was perhaps bought by the Virago. Surely, Her British
Majesty’s vessels do not accept such presents as that from the governor
of a small penal colony, on the shores of Patagonia. So large a
quantity of coal would be a very valuable gift in such a place as that,
where all the fuel, except the brush-wood from the scrubby forests
around, must be brought from abroad.
Cambiaso told the captain, whose name I afterwards learnt was Stewart,
that several of his prisoners had escaped, and were now lurking about
the woods at Port Famine; and if, on the steamer’s anchoring there
to take in some of this coal, which lay on the shore, any of these
prisoners should wish to be taken on board the Virago, he wished
captain Stewart to order his men to drive them away, and to hold no
communication with them. Some of the soldiers who escaped with the
governor, had, it appears, never been re-taken, and Cambiaso feared
their report to the English vessel.
It seems to me another instance of stupidity in captain Stewart, that
he should have swallowed unsuspiciously this story of Cambiaso’s. Would
it not have been much more probable that Cambiaso would have asked
their assistance in recapturing his prisoners, and requested the Virago
to retain them until he could send for them? I could not but feel that
all these things, or indeed, half of them, would have been enough to
have opened the eyes of even a moderately “cute” Yankee. But perhaps
some allowance for my impatience at the blindness of the English
officers is to be made, when we consider how much this chance of escape
was to me, and how bitterly I lamented its loss.
My fellow prisoner and myself were sad enough during the rest of that
evening, as we heard that the Virago had left Port Famine, and was now
out of sight.