A Death on board--Our Freight--Extracts from Diary--St.
Helena and Napoleon--The Trades--Poetical idea of a
starry Telegraph--Good Sailing.
One of the invalids, whom we were bringing home from the squadron, died
and was buried at Cape Town. Poor fellow, he was never destined to see
his native land again. His disease, consumption, with the usual tendency
of that complaint, made rapid advances as we drew near land. He had
resigned himself to die, and his repeated wish was that we might reach
the Cape before he should breathe his last; that he might feel assured
of resting in consecrated ground. He was of the Catholic faith, and had
his wish, for a priest of his religion attended his remains to their
last resting-place, where the seagull swoops, on the shores of the
"stormy Cape."
On leaving the Cape, our ship presented the appearance of a vessel
engaged by naturalists to bring home specimens; and the botanical
department was represented by boxes containing specimens of sugar-cane
placed in the quarter, stern boats, and on the poop. Monkeys, belonging
to the men, made a menagerie on the booms. Others of the genus _simia_
were stationed in the tops; an aviary composed of cockatoos, Cape
parrots, Java sparrows, minas, &c., was dispersed through different
messes; whilst indigenous animals, such as rats, mice, cockroaches and
ants, had their appropriate haunts.
_Fifth of May._--"Rolling down to St. Helena," as the sailors' song has
it. Have passed the latitude of _Angra Pequena_, on the African coast,
where Martin Diaz the Portuguese navigator erected a cross, and gave it
the additional title of Santa Cruz. This emblem is said to have been
lately overthrown by an English merchant captain. I can imagine the
Goth, bloated with beer, and vomiting forth strange oaths!
_May the 10th._--Still heading for St. Helena, which calculate on making
within three days. Have caught the "trades," but indeed have had winds
answering their purpose ever since we left the Cape, having had them
generally aft.
On the 13th of May at 10 h. 30 m. made the loom of the Island of St.
Helena, bearing N. N. E. per compass, passed it about thirty miles to
windward, just twelve days and a half from the Cape, within the average
passage.
Helena, lone hermit of the ocean, saddened by the memory of Napoleon,
its involuntary hermit. But the dead lion no longer reposes there; his
remains have been transferred to one of his own splendid monuments in
unfaithful but now penitent Paris; and the spirit of prophecy must have
prompted the pen of Byron to write, long before the event took place--
"France shall yet demand his bones!"
_May 19th._--In latitude 8° 50' south, 19° 33' west longitude,
approaching the line; have had fine trades; now getting light; weather
warm, and fine; for the last few days summer clothing in demand.
_Sunday, 23d of May._--Trade wind still holds on; three sail in sight;
one passed across our bows bound to the southward and westward, and
showed Dutch colors.
_Thursday, 27th May, 1852._--Crossed the line last night in about
longitude 34° west; are now in the northern Atlantic, and fairly in our
own hemisphere; have hit the same day of the month to cross it, in
returning; going out the 26th of February, 1850, and coming back the
26th of May, 1852. What has passed in the interval! Is it not faithfully
recorded on these pages?
Are now looking out for the N. E. trades, and have symptoms of soon
getting them. With luck shall make our port within a month from present
date.
_Tuesday, June 1st._--Within this month expected to be detached; for the
last few days have encountered calms and squalls, line weather, and have
not made much progress; got no observation yesterday; last night at half
past eleven the master took a lunar, which put us in 3° 17' north
latitude. Whilst writing have struck a fine breeze, which we hope will
soon carry us out of the _doldrums_.
_Third of June._--Latitude 7° 1' north; have caught the trades at last;
after coquetting for several days, these winds, so constant when caught,
have consented to fill our sails, and we are now careering along,
knocking off hourly nine knots of the distance which divides us from our
homes. It is pleasant sailing, too, in these trades, and when you once
strike them, you feel secure of their continuance up to a certain
parallel. All you have to do is to set your sails, studding-sails,
royals, moonsails and sky-scrapers, if you carry them; keep them full,
and let your vessel go dancing along, day after day, without handling a
brace. Seamanship may take a spell below, for your ship will almost
_sail herself_!
Saw the northern or polar star last night for the first time, a few
degrees above the horizon, peeping at us with its twinkling eye, as much
as to say, welcome home! Hailed it as a link connecting us with our
native land. How many eyes of persons dear to us, look upon that star,
when they think of us. Its appearance suggests the following idea:
If to yon glittering, gleaming star,
Our thoughts might wing their rapid flight,
To meet in that bright orb, afar;
Thoughts that are sent towards us to-night:
How happy thitherward to speed,
Soul meeting soul, above the wave;
From earth, and earth's dark passions freed,
And--oh! what _postage_ it would _save_!
_Saturday, June 5th, 1852._--Latitude 20° 43' N., longitude 47° 40' W.
Yesterday knocked off two hundred and forty miles, averaging ten miles
per hour; best run yet; only about 2200 miles distant to-day; made two
hundred and twenty-four miles the last twenty-four hours.
_Sixth of June._--Twelve o'clock just reported, and latitude 15° 14',
and have run two hundred and twenty-two miles since meridian yesterday;
making six hundred and eighty-six miles in three days, an average of
two hundred and twenty-eight and two third miles per diem. Have passed
the Windward Islands; are getting anxious now, and even if we do make
good runs, yet this practice of killing time by half hours (the bell is
struck every half hour), is becoming tedious, as we draw near home.