CHAPTER XI.

Sail for England—Crowned Pigeons—Straits of Dryan—Banca

Straits—Zutphen Islands—Escape and re-capture of a crowned

pigeon—Death of one of those birds—Dissection—Pass the

Cape of Good Hope—Fine weather—The trumpet weed—Volcanic

rocks—St. Helena—Buttermilk Point—James’s Town—Ficus

Religiosa—Over-population of James’s Town—Visit to the late

residence of Napoleon.

On the 15th of December, I sailed from Singapore for England, having

on board three of those magnificent birds, the Crowned or Dampier’s

pigeons, the _Columba coronata_ of Linnæus, which I took under my care

for my friend, T. Rawson, Esq., of Dulwich. The bird is nearly as large

as a turkey; the body is of a leaden hue; scapulars ferruginous, with a

white band on each wing: the head is adorned with a crest of delicate

and beautiful feathers, expanded in a crescentic form, which, although

always erect, the bird has the power of still further elevating and

bringing down to the base of the bill: the irides are bright red; feet

and legs speckled with black.

These birds inhabit the Eastern Archipelago, and the present specimens

had been brought from the island of Ternate. I saw at Batavia two living

specimens, which had been just brought in a vessel from Amboyna; but they

were regarded as a very delicate bird, and difficult to keep alive; yet I

observed, in a newspaper, (April 15th, 1832,) that a pair of these birds

had been landed in England from the _Kingsdown_: they had been brought

from New Guinea. “It was the mournful notes of this bird,” as therein

stated, “that greatly alarmed the crew of the _Bougainville_, on landing

at some of the Molucca Islands, which they took to be the cries of

distress of the human species.” It was further stated, that they had been

presented to the _Surrey Zoological Gardens_, by Captain Underwood.

“At Tomoguy,” says Captain Forrest, “I bought three of the large crowned

pigeons, very well represented by Dampier. The Molucca people call them

_Múlutu_, and the Papuas _Manipi_. My pigeons grew tame, and eat Indian

corn called _Jaggon_. They strike hard with their wings, on which is a

kind of horn. One of the three escaped at Dory Harbour; (New Guinea;)

the other two I carried to Mindanao, where they died.”[79]

We passed through the Straits of Dryan, with a fine breeze from the

north-east. On the morning of the 20th, we spoke the Honourable Company’s

ship, Marquis of Huntley, about the entrance of the Banca Straits, from

China, bound to the Cape, and England. We passed the Banca Straits, and

Lucepara Shoals, and entered the Java Sea on the 22nd, having experienced

much rain during our passage from Singapore.

On the 26th, we passed the beautifully picturesque and umbrageous

_Zutphen Islands_; the adjacent coast of Sumatra had also a rich wooded

appearance: the grand and majestic peaked mountain of Rajah Bassa rose

from the forest land, towering to the clouds, and clothed in verdure,

but was sometimes concealed by the fleecy mists which passed over it,

as well as over the lower land, discharging themselves in occasional

light and refreshing showers. The moisture of the atmosphere occasioned

a delightful fragrance to visit us from the shore. The island of

_Thwart-the-way_ was passed about eight A.M.; and in the afternoon we

were becalmed off the lofty-peaked _Crokatoa Island_, which was densely

wooded from the base to the summit; and, from the very close view we had,

displayed a rich and beautiful appearance.

On the 30th of December, we had the commencement of the south-east trade,

being then in lat. 8° 49′ south, and long. 101° 20′ east. On the 31st of

December, I nearly lost one of the _Crowned pigeons_, from some of the

bamboos of the cage in which they were confined having been broken. This

accident was not perceived at the time it occurred: it was even fortunate

that the bird was seen to escape, and the cause discovered, previously

to the whole of them coming out. The bird, now at liberty, got upon

one of the quarter-boats; and from the motion of the ship throwing it

occasionally nearly off its balance, I was fearful every moment of seeing

it meet with a watery grave. As it stood upon the edge of the boat,

surveying the expansive ocean before it, the bird seemed, as the vessel

gave an occasional lurch, to be in danger of falling into the waves; or

by mistaking the _field of sea_ for a large plain, might have plunged

itself, unconsciously, into destruction: fortunately, however, the second

officer of the ship succeeded in capturing and returning it to the cage

it had forsaken. As the bird stood upon the boat, it had a very graceful

and elegant appearance, gazing upon the wide view before it, with its

beautiful bright-red eyes, and delicate crest; uttering at the same time,

whilst gently bending its head, the usual humming, mournful sounds, which

resembled those of a person suffering bodily torture.

The birds have a very healthy appearance, and feed well upon paddy; and

on some maize being given to them some time afterwards, they refused it,

preferring the former grain. After this accident occurring to their cage,

to prevent a recurrence, they were removed into an empty and spacious

turkey-coop, which, from its construction, shelter them very well from

the weather.

On the 15th of January, I had the misfortune to lose one of the birds:

they had all the semblance of being in excellent health on the evening

previously; but when the decks were washing, one was seen to run about

the cage two or three times, and then fell dead. This bird, I had

observed when it first came on board, had a film over one of the eyes,

(which diseased eye has been preserved in spirits,) but it did not appear

at all to affect its general health.[80]

From the very sudden death of the bird, I felt some degree of interest,

in examining the body, to ascertain the cause of so sudden a mortality;

fearing that the other birds might be affected in a similar manner, and

thus all my hopes of taking them to England in a living state would be

frustrated.

On taking the dead bird from the cage, a quantity of gruelly liquid was

discharged gradually from the bill: there were no external appearances

to account for the death of the creature: the plumage was rubbed in some

places; the wing and tail feathers were broken, but not more than may

be expected from birds in a state of confinement, although they had an

abundance of space in their coop to roam about.

On examining the interior of the bird, the appearances of disease that

presented themselves were sufficiently clear to account for its death:

the skin, considering the size of the body, was very thin; but this I

believe to be invariably the case in the pigeon tribe: the bird was

very muscular; but the pectoral more particularly, as well as also the

other muscles, were extremely pallid, and could be readily torn asunder,

having a closer resemblance to the muscles of a fish than to those of the

feathered tribe. On examining the crop, I observed that it was, both in

its external as well as its internal appearance, very vascular: it was

nearly empty of food, having only a few grains of paddy mingled with some

quantity of mucus; some scattered grains of paddy were also seen in the

mouth and gullet, so it appears the bird had died whilst in the act of

feeding. There was much yellowish fat about the crop, as well as other

portions of the body.

Between the skull and the integuments, there was much secretion of a

serous fluid; but I could observe no muscular apparatus for raising or

depressing the crest. But underneath the crest, between the skull and the

integuments, was much fat; a thickening, as if of cellular membrane; and

glands secreting the elegant and delicate feathers forming the crest.

The eyes and corresponding orbits were very large; indeed, I may say

remarkably so, considering the size of the skull, the posterior portion

of which was very thick, and the brain of a small size, in proportion to

what would have been expected from the external appearance of the cranium.

The lungs were soft and readily broken, as well as the liver, although

neither of them had an unhealthy colour in their external appearance.

Upon the under surface of the latter organ, there was a small and nearly

oval body, in some degree resembling a clotted piece of blood.

On tracing down the alimentary canal, no disease or obstruction could be

met with, until, on arriving at the second stomach or gizzard, I found

it distended to the utmost with food, and for rather more than an inch

above the cardiac orifice, the alimentary canal was also distended, as

if some cause prevented the natural passage of the food; the intestines

below the gizzard (except at a very short distance from the pyloric

orifice, which was also distended with food) were empty. Here, then, I

was led to expect some explanation of the cause of obstruction, which had

no doubt occasioned the death of the bird. I laid open, with my scalpel,

the slightly-distended intestine just below or about the pyloric orifice.

The cause of the obstruction was made evident, by the appearance of a

_polypus_, which came out, being situated just below the part which was

distended, evidently forming the cause of obstruction to the passage of

the digested food. This _polypus_ measured, in length, two inches and

six-eighths; and in its greatest breadth, three-eighths of an inch. It

was rounded at one end; tapering almost to a point at the other. Part was

of a bright vermillion, and the remainder of a dirty or yellowish white.

Upon a further examination of the interior of this portion of the

intestine, there was a thickening of the villous coat, with much

secretion of mucus, and also of coagulable lymph. The whole of

the remainder of the alimentary canal had its external coats very

vascular.[81]

The specimen was a female, and, from the similarity of plumage, the

others must also be females. The plumage accords with the description

given in our works of natural history of this bird. Some bird-fanciers

observe, that they can distinguish _male_ from _female_ birds by the

sub-scapular feathers near the base; the male birds having always an

odd number—as five, seven, nine, eleven; and the females always an

even number—as six, eight, twelve, &c., according to the species. But,

examining, on a subsequent occasion, a male specimen of this bird, I

found no difference of plumage, so as to form a sexual distinction.

The two other birds are perfectly healthy in appearance; but as the dead

one was so in its external appearance, it is difficult to judge of their

health, if suffering from an obstruction similar to that just described.

We lost the south-east trade in south latitude 29°, and east longitude

39° 40′ east.

On the 4th of February, in the afternoon, the high land about Cape

Delgado was seen, bearing north-north-east by compass about forty miles

distant. We sounded on the bank in seventy-three fathoms, with a bottom

of sand and broken shells: the latitude, at noon, being 34° 57′ south,

and longitude 22° 42′ east. On the 6th, at six P.M., Cape L’Agulhas was

seen bearing north-north-west by compass, distant about ten miles; and

at noon, of the 7th, the Cape of Good Hope was seen, bearing north-east,

about forty miles distant. We passed the Cape, with a fine south-east

wind, having experienced remarkably fine weather during the whole of this

portion of our homeward voyage.

We had a continuation of fine weather and strong south-east winds, which

led us to hope that it would carry us at once into the trade-wind, and,

by that means, expedite the passage; but in this we were disappointed:

for although it carried us until the 14th, on that day in latitude 24°

56′ south, and longitude 4° 00′ east, we had light and variable winds

and calms; wind varying from south-east to north-west, very light. This

continued until the evening of the 18th, when, in latitude 21° 57′ south,

and longitude 1° 5′ east, we had a fresh trade-breeze.

About nine A.M., when in latitude 23° 45′ south, and longitude 2° 50′

east, on the 16th of February, having fine weather and calms, and light

airs from south-west, a large piece of the _Laminaria buccinalis_, or

trumpet-weed of the Cape, measuring, probably, twelve or fourteen feet

in length, floated by the ship. It is one of that species of the marine

flora, which may justly be considered as giants. This specimen appeared,

covered with various kinds of crustacea, which made me regret I could not

procure it. The long, tuberous stalk was nearly stripped (I suppose by

the action of the waves) of its long, flat, and expansive fronds. This

is in favour of the current, which is stated to set to the north-west,

between the Cape and St. Helena. We, however, have not experienced any

since the first day we left the Cape, when we had on that day sixteen

miles of current during the twenty-four hours.

On the following day, (17th,) another piece of the same kind of weed

was seen at a short distance from the ship; and this was the last we

discerned, having seen two specimens, one in the morning, the other in

the afternoon of the previous day. On the 17th, we were in latitude 22°

58′ south, and longitude 1° 56′ east. We saw no more of the weed after

this day.

From the 18th we experienced a very light trade wind, so that we did

not make the island of St. Helena until the 23d at noon, when it was

seen bearing north-west-by-west by compass, and distant about thirty

miles. We drifted a short distance to leeward during the night; we

however soon beat up, passed high, rugged, volcanic rocks, towering and

gloomy, descending in abrupt precipices to the water’s edge; and passed

_Buttermilk Point_, about which every ledge either was fortified by small

batteries, or by a solitary gun, on the sides of mountains of a towering

height. After opening this point, the anchorage and town appears to the

view; and by 8 A.M. we had anchored off James’s Town (February 24.)

The first approach to this island is far from being attractive to the

visitor, consisting of lofty, sterile precipices, without a speck of

verdure to relieve the eye. The summits of the highest around the

island are occupied by signal stations, and are almost in constant

requisition, from the number of vessels continually arriving at this

“Rock.” Small batteries, mounting several guns, occupy every ledge of

rock where defence seems to be required; and in some places a solitary

gun is perched; so that the island is rendered perfectly impregnable

both by nature and art. On advancing toward the anchorage, the barren

cliffs, which before alone met the eye, are both varied and contrasted

by mountains covered with verdure, rising from the inland part of the

island, about which a few white houses are also seen scattered.

The castellated building, called High Knowle, has a pretty and

picturesque effect, perched on the summit of a very high eminence,

and reminding one of the castles in similar situations seen on the

picturesque banks of the Rhine.

James’s Town is a small, neat town, built in a vale, or glen, which

gradually recedes as it proceeds inland; and the town is confined on each

side by volcanic cliffs of a great elevation, and of the most barren

aspect. The neat church is readily distinguished by its tower; and the

green foliage of vegetation in the gardens adjoining the houses charms

the eye by the agreeable contrast.

We landed, without inconvenience, at the steps near the watering-place,

on the left of the anchorage; but it often happens that the surf and

eddy renders a landing extremely inconvenient, and even dangerous. A

broad causeway led to James’s battery, heavily mounted with cannon, and

situated in front of the town. Here I observed a grove of trees, the

_Ficus religiosa_, whose presence afforded an agreeable shade: it is a

tree usually seen planted in India about the Hindoo temples, and held

in veneration by the natives. Passing through a gate, we entered the

esplanade, in which the government-house and garden and the church are

situated. The principal streets and shops of the town, and some very neat

houses in the English style, attract the attention of the visitor.

The extent of the town (from being built in a narrow, receding valley)

cannot be seen until the ascent of the Longwood road is gained, when it

gradually opens,—and the barracks, hospital, and houses, surrounded by

neat gardens, in the villa style of architecture, have a very pleasing

effect, more particularly by contrast, as the towering, rugged rocks, on

each side, are destitute of any verdure.

Although buildings, language, manners, customs, &c., are all English, yet

the number of black and tawny people gives a foreign appearance to the

place; nor was our surprise lessened, by walking in the evening about the

town, to observe the incredible number of children, of all the variety of

tints between white and black, playing about. It would excite Malthus,

after viewing the comparative sterility of the island, and seeing its

incapability of providing for a surplus population, to rail against such

an astonishing increase of the human race.

Over-population is not the only complaint in the town. The streets are

not so well paved, and the rugged stones impede the pleasure which the

stranger would derive from a walk, after he had been for some time

confined in the limited space afforded by a ship. Of fruit, some large

pears, peaches, grapes, and figs, were abundant, and could be purchased

at very reasonable prices. Excellent vegetables, consisting of carrots,

turnips, French-beans, cabbage, water-cresses, and cucumbers, were to

be readily procured, forming refreshment to visitors after a protracted

voyage, and excellent stock for shipping.

The great object of attraction, however, to the visitor, and the

interest, both on the first appearance, and on landing, is naturally

directed towards _him_ who was an exile on this barren rock—the hero of a

“——thousand thrones,

Who strew’d our earth with hostile bones.”

Formerly the ruler of kings, he died and reposes in the place of his

exile, affording a lesson to posterity of the uncertainty which hangs

over human affairs;

“——it will teach

To after warriors more

Than high philosophy can preach,

And vainly preached before.”

The whole island may be viewed as the gigantic mausoleum of him, whose

ambition raised him from a humble station to a palace, and, at last

consigned him to a miserable rock, laved by the boisterous waves of the

Atlantic, and which now contains all that remains of his former splendour

and greatness.

“The desolator desolate!

The victor overthrown!

The arbiter of others’ fate

A suppliant for his own.”

The number of French vessels that arrive every year at this island,

almost solely for the purpose of visiting and weeping over the grave of

him who formerly ruled France, and at one time almost held the destiny

of the world in his grasp, is considerable. At this period of our

visit, several French vessels, consisting of a brig of war, and others,

were lying in the anchorage; and on the road to Longwood, parties of

the crews of the several vessels were seen, and vehicles and horses

of all descriptions were in requisition to convey the male, female,

and infantile arrivals of that nation, to visit the reposing place of

all that is mortal of “Le Grand Napoléon,” and to see the residence,

or rather the prison, of the late emperor. To view this place, in its

present degraded state, used as stables and barns, ought to cause an

Englishman to blush at the want both of the finer feelings and generosity

of his nation towards the departed greatness of the ex-emperor, whose

terror terminated with his death. And who would not feel for the visitors

of a nation who idolize his memory, when they view a spot, so sacred to

them, so degraded by us? What their sentiments are at the time, none but

those who feel like them can imagine.

I cannot refrain from quoting an American author, who makes the following

observation when on a visit to St. Helena. “Who has not admired the

power of genius that raised him to his glory? Who did not feel some

sympathy, at least, in the depth of his fall? Who did not commiserate

him in the distance and desolateness of his exile? And who, with the

vivid impressions of the wretchedness and discomfort of his captivity,

forced upon them by the scene in the midst of which we now were, would

not be disposed to believe every charge of unkindness and oppression

that has been preferred against his keepers? However different the state

of the establishment might have been when inhabited by Napoleon, all the

associations of a visitor, with his situation during the time, take their

colour from what is seen; and the rooms should have been preserved in the

condition in which they were left, or the whole should have been razed to

the ground.”

Wanderings in New South Wales, Batavia, Pedir Coast, Singapore, and China, Vol. 2 (of 2) · 第 11 / 13 章