Descending the mountain, on which we had paused for a few minutes to
feast our eyes and satisfy our curiosity, we arrived at a small hamlet,
or rather a group of two or three hovels, as romantically situated as
it is possible for the imagination of man to conceive. They stood at
the further end of a sort of recess, formed by the hills, which are
here broken into a circular valley, cut off, to all appearance, from
the rest of the habitable world; behind them rose a towering crag, as
perpendicular as the drop of a plummet, from the top of which a little
rivulet came tumbling down, giving to the scene an appearance of the
most delightful coolness, and amusing the ear with the unceasing roar
of a waterfall. From the very face of the cliff, where there seemed to
be scarcely soil enough to nourish a thistle, numerous shrubs and dwarf
trees protruded themselves; whilst above it, and on every side of the
area, the hills were covered with wood, interrupted now and then by the
bald forehead of a blackened rock. In front of the hamlet again, there
was an opening sufficient to admit the most delicious glimpse of the
ocean; and through this the stream, after boiling for awhile in a
little basin, which it has excavated for itself out of what resembles
the foundation of the cliff, makes its way, brawling over a clear
pebbly bottom, till it joins the sea.
This paragon of valleys burst upon us as such scenes, to be witnessed
with advantage, ought to do, without the slightest warning or
expectation. The road by which we approached it, being completely shut
in with wood, and winding considerably to aid the descent, brought us
out nearly at the gorge of the vale, so as to throw the hamlet, the
cliff, and the waterfall into the background; and as the whole was of
such extent as to be taken in at one glance, the effect was striking
beyond anything of the kind I ever witnessed. It is but natural to
suppose that we had no desire to hurry through such a glen as this; and
seeded not the additional motive which the weariness of our donkeys
afforded, to persuade us to a temporary halt. Giving the animals,
therefore, to the care of their owners, we dismounted, and went into
some of the cabins, the inhabitants of which appeared to be as simple
as the situation of their abodes had prepared us to expect. The men
were all goatherds, and the women seemed to be as idle as their
countrywomen in Portugal, sitting at the doors of their houses,
surrounded by groups of half-naked and filthy-looking children. If it
be fair to judge from their dress and the furniture of their hovels,
they were miserably poor, though perfectly contented; they did not ask
us for money, but astonished, I suppose, at the glaring colour of our
coats, they were very inquisitive to know who we were and whence we had
come. The English, the French, and the Portuguese seemed to be the only
three nations of whose existence they had any knowledge; and having
been assured, in answer to their first question, that we were not
French, they immediately added, “Then you must be English.” They did
not appear, however, to be without some degree of cunning, for as long
as we paused in replying to their query, they were silent; but no
sooner had we answered in the negative than they launched forth into
the most violent invectives against the French; convincing us that the
animosity of the mother-country towards its barbarous invaders was not
more implacable than that of the colonies.
Having loitered away half an hour in this romantic spot, and
distributed a few dollars among its inhabitants, we remounted our
steeds and continued our journey. The remainder of the ride carried us
through scenery very similar to what we had already passed; the only
difference was, that the nearer we approached to Ponto del Gada the
more frequent became the spots of cultivation, the width and smoothness
of the road improving in proportion; till at last, when we had attained
the brow of an eminence, from whence the town with its port and bay
were distinguishable, we looked down upon an extensive valley, richly
covered with fields of standing corn. Quickening our pace, we soon
entered the capital of St. Michael’s, and were conducted by the drivers
to a good hotel, kept by an Englishwoman of the name of Currie, where
we found every accommodation which we could desire, at a very moderate
expense.
PONTO DEL GADA
As we had started at an early hour from Villa Franca, the clocks were
just striking ten when we alighted at Mrs. Currie’s hotel;
consequently, there was a long day yet before us, in which we might see
everything that was to be seen in the place. Having discharged our
muleteers, therefore, who seemed overjoyed at the receipt of one dollar
a-piece, swallowed a hasty breakfast, and made ourselves somewhat
comfortable, we lost no time in setting out upon a stroll of
examination and discovery.
Ponto del Gada is, on the whole, rather a neat town, containing from
twelve to fourteen thousand inhabitants; but being built, especially in
the outskirts, without much regard to compactness, it covers more
ground than many places of double the amount in population. It stands
upon a little bay, formed by two projecting headlands, and can boast of
a tolerable harbour excellent roadstead. In its immediate vicinity the
country a more uniformly level than any I had yet observed; the vale
extending to the distance of four or five miles on every side, had
ending in an amphitheatre of low green hills, which resemble
appearance, the downs as they are seen from Eastbourne in Sussex. The
whole of this flat is in a state of high cultivation, being cleared,
perhaps too completely, of wood, and portioned off into different
fields and parks by hedges and stone walls. Judging from the appearance
of the crops, I should conceive that the soil was here of some depth,
as well as fertility, the whole valley being covered with wheat,
barley, and Indian corn. And in truth, if the aspect of the country
beyond the downs, where rocks tower one above another in rude and
barren grandeur, furnish a legitimate criterion by which to determine
respecting the general fertility of the island, I should be almost
tempted to believe that the whole industry of its people has been
expended upon this spot, simply because it was the only one capable of
rewarding it. I was assured, however, by the natives, that such is not
the case; and that, in the interior, and towards the opposite coast,
the rugged magnificence of mountain scenery gives place to a more
profitable though less picturesque champaign.
The principal streets of Ponto del Gada are paved, and kept once cool
and clean by a. constant sprinkling of water, which is the business of
two or three men stationed at pumps within obtain distance of one
another, to scatter over them. Of the by-streets little can be said in
praise, they being, like those of other Portuguese towns, composed of
mean cottages, unpaved, and extremely dirty. There is, however, an air
of elegance given to the town, particularly when looked at from a
distance, by the intermixture of orange-groves among the houses; the
largest of these, wherever they happen to stand, being, in general,
surrounded by extensive gardens, all of which are abundantly stocked
with that graceful and odoriferous plant. Add to this the number of
towers and spires with which its numerous churches and convents are
supplied, and the first aspect of the whole may be conceived to be
extremely striking and imposing.
As soon as we had taken a hurried survey of the streets, the next
object of attention was the religious houses. In these there was but
little to admire, the architecture being of the plainest kind, and even
the chapels as much wanting in ornament as can be imagined. There were,
indeed, in most of them some trifling attempts at carved work and
gilding upon the roof, a little stained glass, neither rich nor
ancient, in the windows, and a few tawdry pictures suspended above the
altars; but the general appearance was decidedly that of buildings
which did not even aim at beauty or grandeur. The monks we found a
good-natured, obliging set of men, very willing to give us any
information in their power; by one of whom we were fortunate enough to
be conducted through a convent of Augustine friars. Into their mode of
living it is not to be supposed that we could obtain much insight. It
seemed, however, to be less indolent than that of some convents which
we had visited in the old country, and approached proportionably nearer
to a college life among ourselves; though it must be admitted that the
fellows and undergraduates of Oxford and Cambridge have a better notion
of both comfort and elegance than the Augustine friars of St.
Michael’s. Of the nuns we of course saw nothing, excepting through the
grates. We found them full of curiosity, and eager to know as much as
they could learn of the world from which they were excluded; but quite
as fond of flirting as any set of young ladies at a boarding-school. It
was amusing to observe their mode of begging, for all the nuns in this
part of the world are licensed beggars. The younger and fairer members
of the sisterhood came to the grate first; chatted, sung, and presented
us with artificial flowers, and then retiring, made way for the old and
the ugly, who requested a little money for the good of our souls and
their bodies. To solicitations thus expressed it was impossible to turn
a deaf ear, and the consequence was, that we soon discovered it to be
quite as expensive an amusement to flirt with a nun, as with any other
belle in London or elsewhere.
Besides the churches and convents, amounting in all to not fewer than
nine, there is a fort erected for the protection of the harbour, which
we likewise endeavoured to see, but were prevented by the sentinel at
the gate, who refused us admittance. The disappointment, however, was
not great, as it was easy to perceive, from its outward appearance,
that the fort could possess few points worthy of observation; and,
indeed, we attributed the reluctance evinced in admitting strangers to
its utter uselessness as a place of defence.
To describe all this occupies but a small portion of time; but to see
it was the laborious employment of an entire day. Wearied out at length
with my exertions, and not feeling much rewarded, at least for the
latter part of my trouble, I returned in the evening to the hotel,
where, as the ships were still at anchor, taking on board water and
fresh provisions, I ventured to spend the night.
Having thus discovered that there was little in the works of art, and a
great deal in those of nature, throughout St. Michael’s, to interest
the traveller, a friend and myself determined to set off next morning
on a visit to the volcano. With this design we ordered asses, for asses
are the only animals for hire, to be in readiness by daybreak; and
finding them in waiting at the time appointed, we took a guide with us
and pushed forward in the direction of the dark smoke. The mountain
with its crater being distinctly visible from Ponto del Gada, we took
it for granted the distance between the two places could not exceed
twelve or fourteen miles; but, on inquiring of our guide, we learned
that the nearest road would carry us at least twenty-seven miles from
the town. This was at once a startling and unpleasant piece of
intelligence, affecting our arrangements in no trifling degree. To
proceed was dangerous, because, mounted as we were, to go and return in
one day was impossible; and, if we remained so far from the shipping
during the night, the fleet might sail before we should be able to get
back. On the the other hand, to give up our design, and quit a country
where a volcano was to be seen, without seeing it, appeared rather a
mortifying prospect. After weighing for a few minutes the chances on
both sides, I shall not say with the utmost impartiality, curiosity
finally prevailed over apprehension; and, in order to prevent any
further repentance and consequent change of mind, we put our donkeys
into a gallop, and hurried on as fast as they could carry us. But the
speed of the asses and our own venturous determination proved, after
all, equally unavailing; for, on gaining the summit of the downs, and
looking back upon the fleet, we beheld, to our great sorrow, the signal
for sailing displayed at the topmasts of all the ships. Mortified at
our disappointment, and at the same time rejoicing that we had got no
farther on our journey, we were compelled to turn our asses’ heads, and
to retrace our steps towards Ponto del Gada, where we found everything
in the bustle and confusion of a re-embarkation. The beach was covered
with sailors, soldiers, bullocks, and casks of fresh water, hurrying,
and being hurried, indiscriminately into the boats which had arrived to
take them off. The townspeople were running about upon the strand, some
offering their skiffs to convey the officers on board the ships, some
helping to swing the bullocks into the barges, and others shouting and
hallooing apparently from the disinterested love of noise. In short, it
was a scene of great liveliness and bustle, perhaps rather too much so
to be agreeable.
Seeing this universal eagerness to reach the fleet, we, like the rest,
threw ourselves into the first boat we could approach, and in a short
time found ourselves on board our own ship. But here a very tantalizing
piece of intelligence awaited us, for we learnt that, in spite of all
this show of preparation, the Admiral had not begun to weigh anchor;
and that no intention of moving was entertained, at soonest, before the
morrow. The opportunity, however, was lost; it could not be recovered,
and we were obliged to submit as cheerfully as we could, though it was
impossible to help regretting, what had at first been a source of
consolation, the circumstance of our having caught a view of the signal
at the time we did. But, as the event proved, all had turned out for
the best; for on the day following the signal was again repeated; and
by way of giving additional weight to it, the Admiral began to shake
loose his topsails. Nor did it prove, like that of yesterday, a false
alarm. By mid-day, the victualling and watering being complete, the
fleet immediately began to get under weigh; and, as the wind blew fair
and fresh, before dark the mountains of St. Michael’s could be seen
only like a thin vapour in the sky. Next morning nothing but the old
prospect of air and water met the gaze, as we stood our course, at a
rapid rate, towards Bermuda.
AT SEA
The voyage from St. Michael’s to Bermuda occupied the space of almost
an entire month, the first having been lost sight of on the 27th of
June, and it being the 24th of July before the low shores of the last
could be discerned. It was, however, a passage of more interest and
productive of more variety than that from Bordeaux to the Azores. We
had now arrived within the influence of the tropical climate, and were
not unfrequently amused with water-spouts, and other phenomena peculiar
to warm regions. The flying-fish, likewise, and its pursuer, the
dolphin, afforded at least something to look at; whilst many idle hours
were whiled away in attempts to catch or strike the latter with
harpoons. In these we were not always unsuccessful, consequently we
enjoyed several opportunities of watching the change of colour which
that fish undergoes whilst it is dying; and though the description
generally given of it is certainly indebted in some degree to the
imagination of voyagers, I must confess that the transitions from blue
to purple, and from purple to green, with all their intermediate
shades, are extremely beautiful. When the fish is in the water, it is
by no means remarkable for brilliancy of hue, and as soon as it is dead
it returns to its original colour—a dingy sea-green; but whilst it is
floundering and flapping upon the deck, it is impossible to say what is
its real appearance, so many and so different are the hues which it
assumes. Nor did we escape without the occasional occurrence of a less
agreeable species of variety; I mean squalls, thunder-storms, and
whirlwinds. As we approached Bermuda, indeed, these became too frequent
to excite any interest beyond an earnest desire that they would cease:
but while we were yet a good way off, and the incident rare, they were
witnessed with more of admiration than terror.
Besides these amusements with which nature supplied us, we were not
backward in endeavouring to amuse ourselves. Being now pretty well
accustomed to the atmosphere of a ship, we began to consider ourselves
at home, and to give balls and other public entertainments through the
fleet. One of these I shall take leave to describe, because I am sure
it must interest from its novelty. On the 19th of July, at an early
hour in the morning, a signal was made from the Royal Oak, that the
Admiral would be happy to see the officers of the fleet on board his
ship that evening. Boats were accordingly sent off from the different
vessels, loaded with visitors; and on mounting the gangway, a stage,
with a green curtain before it, was discovered upon the quarter-deck.
The whole of the deck, from the poop to the mainmast, was hung round
with flags, so as to form a moderate-sized theatre; and the carronades
were removed from their port-holes, in order to make room for the
company. Lamps were suspended from all parts of the rigging and
shrouds, casting a brilliant light upon this singular playhouse; and
the crew, arrayed in their best attire, crowded the booms, yards, and
fore part of the deck; whilst the space from the mainmast to the foot
of the stage was set with benches for the more genteel part of the
audience.
At seven o’clock the curtain drew up, and discovered a scene painted
with such taste as would not have disgraced any theatre in London. The
play was the ‘Apprentice,’ with the ‘Mayor of Garret’ as an afterpiece,
performed by the officers of the ship and of the artillery, and went
off in high style, applauded, as it deserved to be applauded, with the
loudest acclamations. The quarter-deck of a British line-of-battle ship
has often enough been a stage for the exhibition of bloody tragedies;
but to witness a comedy and a farce upon that stage, and in the middle
of the Atlantic Ocean, was delightful from its very singularity. When
the performance came to an end, the stage was knocked down, the seats
removed, and everything cleared for dancing. The music was excellent,
being composed of the band of the Royal Oak; and the ball was opened by
Admiral Malcolm and the Honourable Mrs. Mullens, in a country dance,
followed by as many couples as the space would permit; the greater
number of officers dancing, as necessity required, with one another. In
this amusement every person, from the Admiral and General, down to the
youngest ensign and midshipman, joined, laying aside for the time all
restraint or form of discipline; and having kept it up with great
spirit till considerably beyond midnight, a blue light was hoisted as a
signal for the different boats to come off for the strangers, and each
returned to his own ship highly gratified with the evening’s
entertainment.