Comparative comfort--The American ensign--Christmas day--My visit
to the barracks--The Indian boys--Cambiaso’s rage--Execution
of the Indian woman--The cattle slaughtered--Escape of the
Indians--Fears of the rebels--Preparations for leaving--The Florida
re-christened--Interview with Cambiaso--The embarking of the
colonists--Prisoners sent to the Florida.
After my removal to the Florida, I made myself comparatively
comfortable, with the help of my steward Tom, who seemed as if he
could never do enough for me. I was allowed to take possession of my
state-room, and found some few of my personal effects lying about the
vessel, which I took the liberty of taking possession of. Tom had two
of my shirts, which he had washed in his best manner, and hid for
me. The luxury of a change of clothes and a good bath, was delightful
to me. Tom was allowed to do my cooking at the same time that he did
Tapia’s, our rations being brought from the barracks. I used to eat my
meals, sitting on the deck, it being then the height of summer, and
very warm most of the time, in the cabin.
One morning, in loitering on the deck, I saw the American ensign, which
had been ignominiously thrown behind a coil of rope. I glanced around,
and finding that no one was observing me, raised it, and hurried with
it to my state room, concealing it beneath my mattrass.
I found the Florida much injured by the neglect and rough usage she had
undergone. Many of her sails were destroyed, her running and standing
gear cut up, and one of her quarter boats lost. This grieved me very
much; and with Tom’s aid, I endeavored gradually to repair such of the
injuries as it was in my power to mend, thinking that the time might
come when the vessel might enable us to make our escape.
The morning of Christmas Day dawned, bringing to me so many sad
recollections that I became nervously restless, and unable to remain
quietly on board my vessel. Every thing seemed to remind me of home,
by the very force of contrast; the wild, foreign faces around me; the
strange language, made harsh by oaths and curses, which greeted my
ear; the summer vegetation; the heat--all so opposed to every thing
associated with the season in my mind; the recollection of the terrible
scenes I had passed through; of my present danger, and of what might
be still before me--all pressed upon me, until some change of place
seemed to me absolutely necessary.
I determined to go on shore; so, taking a boat, accompanied by Tapia
and some of his men, we rowed ashore, and soon reached the barracks.
Here, every thing was in confusion--such confusion, that I quickly
wished myself back again on board the barque. The soldiers were mostly
under arms, the released prisoners and my crew standing in groups on
the parade ground; and, looking towards Cambiaso’s house, which was
in the middle of the yard, I saw him standing at the door, talking to
Garcia, and apparently in a state of great excitement. Not willing to
come under his notice in his present mood, I passed quietly around the
yard, looking for somebody from whom I could obtain information.
Mr. Dunn I could not see, he being still under guard, confined with
captains Avalos and Salas; but I soon met my old fellow-prisoner, the
English mate, and from him and some of the Chilians I gathered the
cause of the uproar.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
There had been several visits from the Indians during the last week
or two, and there was some reason to suppose that some of these late
visitors had come as spies. The herdsmen who had the charge of the
cattle belonging to the colony, had reported that they had of late
seen Indians, armed, lurking around the cattle, and hanging about the
woods which surrounded the cantonment. This had roused Cambiaso’s
suspicions, and on the day after I removed to the Florida, he had
seized two Indian boys who had been living some time in the barracks,
and, apparently with the design of intimidating the Indians, had
ordered them to be conveyed to a point about two miles distant, at a
place where the Indians were accustomed to pass, on their way to the
barracks. There they were hung by the neck to the trees, and lanced to
death, their cheeks and noses being cut off.
On Christmas morning, an Indian woman had appeared at the gate,
requesting to enter and visit her son, who was in the barracks. She
was carried before Cambiaso, and being questioned by him as to the
movements of the Indians, and when they were coming to make another
visit for barter, she contradicted herself continually. She confessed
that she had seen the bodies of the Indian boys, but being asked who
was with her when she saw them, she at first said, “No one;” then said
she had been sent to the yard by one of the chiefs,--then that he was
angry about the death of the boys. While she was being questioned, the
herdsmen came hurrying into the camp, with the news that the Indians
were killing the cattle, and carrying them off.
[Illustration]
Cambiaso mustered his mounted troops hurriedly, arming them with
muskets and clubs; and then, leaving the Indian woman under guard, he
hastened out with his men in pursuit of the marauders. The Indians
soon took the alarm, and mounting their swift horses, were off before
him, leaving the slaughtered cattle lying on their pasture ground. He,
however, soon put his men on the track, and leaving them to follow the
Indians, returned on the gallop to the barracks, terribly exasperated.
He rode in and called to the guard to bring out the Indian woman,
crying, “Drag her out! kill her! shoot her down, she shall tell me no
more lies!” She was dragged out before him, resisting with all her
might, and pleading for her life, asking for her son, praying for his
help. Her prayers were useless, and were not even listened to. Cambiaso
himself collected a file of soldiers, and ordered her to be dragged to
a tree and tied there. He gave the order to fire himself. Six or eight
bullets struck her, but still she writhed in agony, and continued her
shrieks for help. One of the soldiers, at a nod from Cambiaso, walked
up to her and struck her on the head with a club, which silenced her
for ever. Her dead body was hanging to the tree when I entered the
yard.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The English mate, from whom I got most of this information, and who
had been suffered to go at large almost unwatched since I left the
barracks, told me that he had never seen Cambiaso in such a fiendish
passion; that Garcia had tried to quiet him, but without the least
effect.
The troops were still out, following the Indians, and great anxiety
was expressed in the yard that they might overtake and capture them.
The general opinion seemed to be that the Indians, seeing the weakened
and disorderly state of the colony, had formed a plan to make a sudden
attack upon them, and massacre them all, for the sake of the booty
which they would secure. From what I gathered, I concluded that a
party of Indians had come down the pass on their way to visit the
barracks, when, finding the dead bodies of the boys on their road, they
had sent the woman on as a spy. Why they had commenced slaughtering and
driving off the cattle, without waiting for her return, I could not
tell, unless the herdsmen were so few and so easily to be overpowered
that the temptation was too great for them.
At about one in the afternoon, I succeeded in persuading Tapia and his
men to put off again for the barque, and happy indeed was I to find
myself again on board of her.
I determined not to go ashore again unless I was compelled to, and to
keep as much out of Cambiaso’s way as possible. Fifty plans of escape
had crossed my mind. Sometimes to leave the vessel, and strike across
the country among the Indians--but from that, the fear of starvation
deterred me; sometimes to get enough of my crew and of the prisoners
friendly to me on board the vessel to navigate her, and make our escape
in that way; but the Florida lay right under the guns of the fort, and
the impossibility of getting her under weigh was too evident. Besides,
I felt a great reluctance to any plan of escape which would leave my
fellow sufferers, Mr. Dunn, captain Avalos, and so forth, still in the
hands of the pirates. There seemed to be nothing but to wait the course
of events, and avail myself of any favorable circumstance that might
occur.
On the morning of the 26th, several men from the barracks came on board
to visit us, as they sometimes did, and from them we learned that the
soldiers sent after the Indians had returned without being able to
overtake them, after following them for twelve hours; and that there
was a good deal of anxiety on shore, lest the Indians should come up in
force and attack them in the night.
I had felt some desire to see one of the native Patagonians, having
still my school-boy belief that they were giants, as our geographies
generally inform us. During my imprisonment at the barracks, one or two
of the men had visited the yard, and I had seen them from my window.
They were certainly large in stature, but by no means came up to the
measure of my boyish imagination. They had heretofore shown themselves
friendly towards the colonists, being probably kept in awe by governor
Gamero, and the strict discipline which he enforced; but they were
said to be very far from cowardly, and very savage and inhuman when
roused by the excitement of fighting. I had often thought that Cambiaso
had some dread of them, judging from two or three remarks about them
which he had made to me from time to time.
For two or three days after this disturbance by the Indians, a sharp
lookout was kept by Cambiaso, and every visit to the Florida from
the shore gave me accounts of the alarm of the rebels. At last, I
heard that we were all to leave the place, and the settlement was to
be abandoned. I eagerly asked Tapia, from whom I heard this, if he
would tell me where we were going; but I found he knew no more of our
destination than I did: indeed, it was only from what he had observed
on shore, and from the surmises of the men around him, that he had
drawn his conclusion. I felt very anxious to go on shore and try to
discover for myself how much truth there was in this report, but the
remembrance of my last visit and its risks deterred me. I could only
question Tapia, who went to the fort very often, and who seemed as
anxious as myself to know what was to be done. It was evident that the
men did not trust Cambiaso; that they feared his securing the treasure
and one of the vessels, and abandoning them to the mercy of the Indians
or to the Chilian government, when the news of the insurrection should
reach Valparaiso. This seemed not improbable; but for myself, I judged
it more likely that Cambiaso was making some preparation to join the
insurgent party under general Cruz, in the province of Conception,
for I was convinced that he had in some way held communication with
them before he rose against governor Gamero. He had several times
in his conversations with me, declared himself a sworn partisan of
general Cruz; and once, in answer to my complaint of the outrages
committed against my vessel and myself, he had said that if general
Cruz succeeded in overthrowing the government at Santiago, everything
connected with my case should be satisfactorily adjusted, and that I
should have no reason to complain. In speaking thus, he must of course
have referred to my pecuniary losses. No reparation could be made to
me or to his friends, for the barbarities inflicted upon my friend,
Mr. Shaw; but in Cambiaso’s scale of injuries, the loss of property
probably stood highest. Somewhere about the 29th or 30th of December,
several workmen were sent on board the Florida, evidently for the
purpose of making preparation for her departure. Her name, which was
beautifully painted on her stern, was smeared over, a fresh coat of
paint put on, and the word “Inesperado,” (_the unexpected_,) inserted
in its place. Wood, water and provisions in great quantities were sent
to the Florida and the Eliza Cornish, and the two vessels were put in
as good order as could be expected from such unseamanlike workmen.
These workmen took the opportunity to ransack the two vessels,
secreting everything of value that they could lay their hands on, and
throwing overboard what they thought useless. Among other things, they
came across some bags of silver ore which had been overlooked in
the former searching of the Eliza Cornish, and doubtless would have
appropriated this treasure to the deep, if the English mate had not
been standing by them at the time of the discovery, and threatened to
inform against them. The bags were worth about two hundred dollars
apiece.
On the morning of the last day of the year, Cambiaso himself came on
board, attended by his aids, fully armed, and evidently intending to
surround himself with all that could impress us with an idea of his
authority. He went into the cabin, and then sent for me to come to him.
When I entered, he was seated by the table, with his pistols lying
before him, and dressed in his full regimentals. He received me with
much politeness, and offered me a seat; then commenced by telling me
that the marks of hostility shown to the colony by the Indians, and
the difficulty of obtaining supplies for his followers, had determined
him to abandon the place, and that he had made up his mind to keep
me with him, to navigate the vessel; and that he expected me to use
my utmost skill, and to obey his orders to the letter, with regard
to the course of the vessel. I answered him very coolly, that he had
left me no choice; since I was entirely in his power, I must perforce
obey his orders; that with regard to using my utmost skill, I had too
much regard for my own life and the lives of my crew in that perilous
navigation, not to do my best. My coolness did not seem to offend
him, for he smiled as I spoke, and rising, said, “You shall be well
watched, Sir Captain, and it will go hard with you if you give any
cause for suspicion.” After going through the vessel and giving some
orders to his workmen, he prepared to leave, when I said to him that
if he would give me authority, I would give directions to the workmen
in regard to such repairs as the vessel might need to render her
sea-worthy. To this he assented, apparently with much satisfaction, and
entering the boat, his men pushed off for the shore.
New Year’s Day dawned, clear, bright, and summer-like, and early in the
morning the boats were all busily engaged in bringing off the colonists
to the two vessels. My crew and the crew of the Eliza Cornish were sent
on board their respective vessels, and my old companion, the English
mate, was put in command of the E. Cornish.
We had a busy time of it on that New Year’s Day. Men, women, children,
provisions, water, camp furniture, and so forth, were crowded on board
our vessels, and my ingenuity was taxed to the utmost to make stowage
for them all. About two hundred of the colonists were put on board the
Eliza Cornish, and nearly two hundred and sixty on board the Florida.
Cambiaso, with Garcia, and his other officers, took possession of the
cabin and state-rooms, taking with them Mr. Dunn, captain Avalos,
and some others. The rest were crowded into the hold with the common
soldiers. I was allowed to retain my state-room, as captain of the
vessel, and my mates and crew were put under my command. The treasure
was stored in Cambiaso’s state-room, or near there, nailed up in heavy
wooden boxes. I found that all the prisoners of any importance were
to be put in the Florida, probably to retain them under Cambiaso’s own
supervision. Captain Salas, however, was sent to the E. Cornish.
Among our passengers were about a hundred goats; and as we had no pens
to confine them in, a few dogs were sent with them as guards, whose
duty it was to keep them within bounds. Two dozen hogs were to share
the privileges of the deck with the goats.
On the evening of the 1st of January I managed to exchange a few words
with captain Avalos and Mr. Dunn, who had been sent on board just
before dark. They told me that everything of value had been taken from
the fort, what was portable sent to the vessels, and any things too
heavy to carry away, and too valuable to be left to the Indians, had
been buried in different spots around the cantonment and in the yard of
the barracks, by order of Cambiaso. It seemed to them that he meditated
a return to the colony, in case he met with any difficulties in
navigating the vessel, and that therefore he was unwilling to abandon
any thing to the Indians. We were not able to talk long, as some of the
officers were standing by, and evidently watching us.