fare for breakfast, same for dinner and supper. Oh, ye knights of
“Gotham!” did we not envy you? You, who are now cloyed with luxuries and
greeted by the smiles of friends, but little dream that he who, twelve
months ago, was your companion, has this moment dined upon sea-bread
that has become the home of vermin, and beef on about the fourth
anniversary of its salting, boiled in ocean-water.
A small bird flies on board in an exhausted condition; it is quite tame
and eats food from our hands. Our inquiries in reference to its home and
destination, were in vain; it remained on board during the day, and
seemed to appreciate our kindness.
It is rumored that one of our passengers is dying; a shark is at this
moment passing under the bow of the ship, as if anticipating his prey.
4th, rainy morning; it clears up at one, and we have a most delightful
evening; a heavy cloud settles around the horizon, leaving us, as it
were, in a lake as calm as a mirror. I never witnessed a more beautiful
scene; I am, however, in no humor to enjoy it. This is our thirty-eighth
day out, and the prospects most discouraging; I am over due at home, and
half the journey yet to be performed.
At 7 P.M. it was announced that Wm. F. Capron, of Palmyra, N. Y., was
dead; he was sewed up in a canvas shroud, and thirty minutes after his
death, with lights on deck, in latitude 6° 34´ N., he was consigned to
the ocean.
5th. Delightful morning, with fine breeze. We saw a large turtle
floating on the surface of the water, asleep; we lowered a boat, and
pulled off for him, but he awoke, and suspecting our movements, applied
his propellers with great dexterity, and diving toward the bottom he was
soon out of sight. He probably hailed from Cocus Island, distant one
hundred and twenty miles; his object in cruising in these waters we were
unable to learn. It being Monday, it was shrewdly suspected that he had
been out, on the previous night, in search of bright eyes. His being
asleep in the middle of the day, and his apparent _embarrassment_ on
being discovered, were evidence upon which almost any jury would have
convicted him.
6th. Calm, heat insupportable, and we are short of provisions. I have a
warm conversation with the captain, and draw up a protest, have it
signed by the passengers, designing to lay it before the consul at
Panama.
PROTEST.
We, the undersigned, passengers on board the ship Edward Everett,
Capt. HENRY SMITH, do hereby most solemnly aver that we were
induced to take passage on said ship by representations made by
said Capt. Smith and his agents, which representations were, that
he had on board an extra supply of ship-stores, and that extra
provisions had been made for the comfort of passengers. For this
_extra provision_ an extra charge of $100 in the first, and $25 in
the second cabin, had been made, above that of any vessel sailing
from the same port for the same destination, during the present
season.
The above-named Capt. Smith, through public advertisements and
otherwise, called the attention of invalids _particularly_, to the
superior arrangements made for their comfort, that a physician
would be in attendance, &c.
Immediately upon getting under weigh we learned, to our sorrow,
that we had been grossly deceived; that the above representations
were false. Our provisions, many of them, were damaged, and, we
were credibly informed, were purchased as such at San Francisco. Of
some of the articles that are indispensable at sea, we were short,
and immediately put upon allowance.
Some of the passengers had made arrangements to work their passage,
but upon first putting to sea were unable to do duty. The Captain
called upon them in person, ordering them from their berths and on
duty, threatening, in case of non-compliance, to put them ashore on
the first island. Mr. Saml. B. Lewis, of Elmira, N. Y., who was
working his passage as under-steward, was compelled to do duty when
unable, and finally compelled to take to his berth, from which he
never arose. Just previous to his death he manifested a wish to see
the Captain, and said, “If I die my blood will be upon the
Captain’s head.”
The invalids, being compelled to live on the coarse fare of the
steerage, suffered for want of nourishing food, of which the ship
was entirely destitute, there not being a particle of dried fruit,
preserved meats, wines, or any one of the articles thought
indispensably necessary on ship-board.
The physician, (whose father and Captain Smith were the owners of
the ship,) paid no other attention to the sick than dealing out
medicines, which he did _only_ at the most exorbitant charges. In
some instances, passengers, after having been sick for days without
nourishment, were obliged to buy flour of the Captain at exorbitant
prices, and cook with their own hands something to sustain life.
There have been five deaths on board, during the voyage. Wm. F.
Capron, of Palmyra, N. Y., we do most solemnly believe died for
want of proper nourishment; and in the case of Wm. B. Lewis, we
believe he was brought to a premature death, by treatment received
at the hands of the Captain, together with the want of proper
nourishment after his prostration.
Aside from the above unheard-of conduct, Capt. Smith went to sea
without a single life or quarter-boat, consequently entirely
unprepared to save life in case of accident, showing a recklessness
of human life in the highest degree reprehensible, which should not
be passed over in silence.
We regret exceedingly that we are obliged to make the above charges
against an American Captain, a class of men so justly celebrated
for philanthropy and kindness; but the circumstances under which we
are placed leave no alternative; and we hereby most respectfully
request that our Consul at Panama will immediately enforce the law
in this case, believing that a few public examples will put an end
to the abuse.
AT SEA, _January 6th, 1850, lat. 6° N., lon. 92° W._, having sailed
from San Francisco, 28th November, 1849.
(_Signed_,)
ROBT. N. TATE, First Mate of Ship Edward Everett.
J. M. LETTS, N. Y.
N. N. RAPELYE, “
J. R. THORNE, “
J. H. R. FAIRCHILD, “
W. COOK, Mo.
WM. TANNER, “
J. SCORBOUGH, “
J. H. HESS, “
J. J. STARKY, Iowa.
R. H. CALDWELL, Ohio.
J. K. TURK, “
D. MCCULLY, Iowa.
C. L. HOAG, N. Y.
J. H. MUMBY, “
A. RILEY, “
GEO. N. SEYMOUR, “
JAS. REED, M. D., “
H. MARKS, “
S. H. STEVENS, “
J. F. ALLEN, “
J. GAFFNEY, N. J.
J. PIERSON, “
P. D. ELMENDORF, “
G. SILLCOCKE, “
G. A. BARNES, Ind.
J. C. CORWIN, Mo.
F. MINTON, “
B. SWART, “
M. Z. SUZEE, “
J. TURNER, “
Z. REDWIN, “
J. ALBRIGHT, “
J. L. SIMMONS, “
S. D. BALDWIN, “
B. HOLT, “
J. N. YORK, “
J. N. CLAUSON, Mo.
J. D. MOTT, “
R. N. SULLIVAN, Mass.
J. H. GREEN, “
J. H. FICKET, “
J. R. FOSTER, “
J. M. RICHNEY, Ill.
J. SHARP, Ohio.
L. H. MCGEE, “
S. HEATH, Me.
C. B. CASTELLA, Ky.
H. S. SHOUDY, “
WM. E. JUDD, Md.
ROBT. HOLLAND, Conn.
F. P. BERKEN, N. O.
H. STARKFLEET, “
J. P. PETERSON, “
J. B. HALL, Pa.
J. WILLIAMSON, “
S. GRIFFIN, Va.
7th. Pass within forty miles of Cocus Island.
8th. Indication of land; a cloud of “boobies” surround the ship,
lighting on the spars and rigging; we divert ourselves by tying
clubs to fishing lines, throwing them around their necks, and
hauling them in. They appeared to enter into the sport with as much
zeal as ourselves, for upon being released they would fly around,
and seem to say, “do it again.”
Chapter Thirtieth.
INTENSE HEAT--HUMAN NATURE AS EXHIBITED BY THE PASSENGERS--DANGER,
NOT APPREHENDED--A TATTLER--A “DUTCH JUSTICE”--“LONG TOM COFFIN”--A
QUAKER HAT--AN INDIVIDUAL RUNNING WILD--HIS OATHS, DEPREDATIONS,
MUSICAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS, SHOWMAN PROPENSITIES, AND PUGILISTIC
DEVELOPMENTS--“BLUBBER,” BUCKSKIN, AND “THE LAST RUN OF SHAD”--A
CAPSIZED WHALE-BOAT--THRILLING SENSATION--HARPOON USED--A
SHARK--“LAND HO!”--GULF OF PANAMA--SOUTH AMERICAN COAST--“SAIL
HO!”--DOLPHIN FOR DINNER--A WHALE--A TERRIFIC GALE--OUR SAILS AND
SPARS CARRIED AWAY.
January 8th. CALM with intense heat. Our ship rolls about at the mercy
of the sea, the spars creaking, and the sails displaying as little
ambition as if they designed to enfold the yards in an eternal sleep.
This example of tranquillity was but illy followed by the passengers; it
appeared to foment their passions, bringing the evil ones to the
surface. Each was disposed to demand an apology from his neighbor for
wrongs either real or imaginary, (mostly of the latter;) the neighbor
declaiming, in the most vehement manner, that he is the injured party.
What a motley group! what an exposition of the dissimilarity of human
nature! Here are my friends Fairchild and Seymour, all they should be,
disposed to look upon the brightest side of the picture; McG. offering
$100 for the strength he once had; “he would whip that d--d Englishman,”
the Englishman, at the same time, swelling and blowing about, with the
pomp and glory of “Old England” flitting through his imagination, quite
ignorant of his impending danger. Gates, on the alert for news for the
captain’s ear, for which he gets an occasional cup of coffee, together
with the universal detestation of the passengers; the “Dutch Justice”
strutting about with all the pomp of brainless vanity; the professor,
learned in love, law, and physic, which comprises, in his estimation,
all that can be learned in this world; “Long Tom Coffin,” the very “beau
ideal” of the hero himself, stretched out on the quarter-deck, very
much resembling a pair of oyster-tongs. He had Blackstone and Kent at
his tongue’s end, and swore that, on his arrival in Maine, he would
prefer a “BRIEF” for the captain’s especial edification; P----ly,
sitting under a quaker hat, as forbidding in appearance as he is in
fact, damning all indiscriminately who differ with him in opinion. T----n,
who in attempting to relate an occurrence commences at the last word,
throwing the balance on the top of it, in the most unintelligible
confusion. He is about twenty-one years of age, has been well brought
up, with a good education, but is now running wild. He blacks his boots
and starts for mast-head; half-way up, he halts, looks at his boots,
suspects that they might have received a higher polish, and with a “d--n
my shirt-tail to h--l,” comes down again. He discovers some one’s can of
preserved meat; he takes it to the cook, and soon _some one_ is invited
to dine with him, and if he discovers _some one’s_ bottle of wine, some
one is _almost_ sure to get _one_ glass of it. He had a passion for
music, but generally sung in parodies, as follows:
I’m sitting on a stile, Mary,
Not knowing where to jump;
My foot it slipped, I caught a fall,
And struck upon a stump,
Ittee bump, ittee bump, ittee bump.
almost indefinitely, closing up with “well, well, d--n my shirt-tail to
h--l, d--n it _to_ h--l,” and again starting for mast-head; he would
probably reach the first yard, when a new idea, and he would be again on
deck, playing superintendent of a caravan, with “John, take that little
monkey from his mother, or he will _suck_ her to death, not that I wish
to disturb the animals in their innocent amusements, but by G--d the
public eye must be respected; music, ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling, well,
well, &c.” He is now interrupted by “Blubber,” alias “Livingston &
Wells’ Express;” a short quarrel, and they square off for a fight.
Blubber is backed by Buckskin, alias “the last run of shad,” and they
don’t fight.
We have a steward that knows his place, and another that does not
deserve one on this earth; a cook who has not been accused of washing
himself during the voyage, and one who appears never to have been guilty
of the act. A negro who knows his place and keeps it, a white man, his
neighbor, assuming everybody’s place but his own; one man with no
appetite, another creating a famine in his immediate neighborhood; five
crazy men, fifty invalids, a penurious doctor, two mates--Tate and
Barry--noblemen of nature’s own make, and a captain who was made
afterwards. In one thing _only_ were we unanimous, which was the
condemnation of sailing vessels in general, and the “Everett” in
particular, including her captain.
11th. We discover something near the horizon resembling a capsized
whale-boat. This causes a great sensation; the first mate mans the
quarter-boat and pulls off for the object. The passengers watch most
intently, the little craft as it rises upon the crest of a
mountain-wave, and now disappearing, again rises to our view, still
nearing the object in the distance. As they approach still nearer,
through the ship’s glass, we see fowls rising from it, and now the mate,
standing in the bow, elevates the harpoon, as if to strike. A large
sea-fowl still clings to the object; as they approach still nearer, it
flies. The mate throws the harpoon and soon they are returning to the
ship. They pronounced the object a pine-log. They have a Dolphin and
several small fish; a cry of shark, and a large one passes along the
weather side, four are following astern, accompanied by their pilots. We
use the harpoon, but without success.
12th. 4 A.M., cry of “land ho!” I dress and go on deck; we are in sight
of Points Mala and Puerco, at the entrance to the gulf of Panama, 100
miles from the city. A steamer is just passing the point into the gulf;
a strong wind is blowing off the land, and west and in, running close on
the wind. We beat all night, and in the morning find ourselves in the
same position.
13th. Wind still dead ahead; after standing in and nearing the South
American coast, we put about on the other tack; the wind soon “hauls,”
and we stand directly for the point and soon enter the mouth of the
gulf. At 4 P.M., mate cries out from mast-head, “sail ho!” “How does she
bear?” “Two points off leeward bow, sir.” Delightful sunset; a school of
porpoises are tumbling about in ecstasies.
14th. Pleasant morning; we are just off the inner point. A fine breeze
blows off, our ship bows to the impulse, and we stand along under the
lee of the land. Cry of dolphin, captain strikes one with the harpoon,
it struggles with the instrument, disengages itself, and disappears in
the direction of the bottom; he strikes another, it is hauled safely on
board and served up for dinner. A whale passes, but not sufficiently
near to receive our salutation. 4 P.M., it blows a gale, captain cries
out, “clue up the top-gallantsail,” “aye, aye, sir.” During the night we
have a terrific gale; it carries away our jib, foretop-sail,
foretop-gallantsail, maintop-staysail, and maintop-gallantsail.
15th. The gale still continues; we are driven out of sight of land, but
arrive in sight of the South American coast at 3 P.M., the Andes
towering up, hiding themselves in the clouds.
16. Strong winds; we are about sixty miles from Panama, running close in
shore. At evening, the kind-hearted inhabitants light beacons upon the
side of the mountain, to guide us during the night. At nine we put about
on the other tack, and at four in the morning were within ten minutes
run of being aground.
Chapter Thirty-first.
BAY OF PANAMA--ITS BEAUTIES--TROPICAL FRUITS--THE CITY IN
SIGHT--EXCITEMENT ON BOARD--APPEARANCE OF THE CITY; HER
RUINS--PREPARATIONS TO DROP ANCHOR--“STAND BY”--“LET GO THE
ANCHOR”--FAREWELL TO THE SICK--A PERILOUS RIDE ON THE BACK OF AN
INDIVIDUAL--ON SHORE--FIRST DINNER--NOTHING LEFT--AN INDIVIDUAL
FEELING COMFORTABLE--PANAMA AMERICANIZED--A MOONLIGHT SCENE VIEWED
FROM A BRASS “FIFTY-SIX”--A DILAPIDATED CONVENT, AS SEEN AT
NIGHT--CHURCH BELLS--BURNING THE DEAD--EXPOSURE OF THE DESECRATED
REMAINS--SICKENING AND DISGUSTING SIGHT--INFANTS CAST INTO
PITS--THE RESCUE OF THEIR SOULS REQUIRING A GIGANTIC EFFORT ON THE
PART OF THE CHURCH--A HECTACOMB--“ETERNAL LIGHT”--IGNORANCE OF THE
MASS--PEERLESS CHARACTERISTICS.
18th. We are surrounded by islands; is there another bay that will
compare with this? Certainly I never imagined anything so like a fairy
scene. We are in the midst of twenty islands, all covered with tropical
fruits of spontaneous growth; the orange, lime, fig, and cocoa-nut
trees, interlaced with the grape, forming shelter for the inhabitants,
and presenting them with food. We were in a condition to appreciate,
most fully, the surrounding scene. Our voyage, which had now lasted
fifty-one days, was commenced under adverse circumstances; five of the
passengers had already died, and several were still confined to their
berths with scurvy, some of them destined to breathe their last on
board.
4 P.M. As we emerge from behind a small island, we are in fall view of
Panama, the towers of her cathedral looming up, and her dilapidated wall
extending along the water line; all are now in a phrensy of excitement;
the passengers are climbing into the rigging, gazing with astonishment
upon the surrounding scene. The wind blows fresh from the land, and we
are obliged to beat up directly in its eye; we passed near Tobago in the
evening, and in the morning were near our anchorage. We run up the stars
and stripes, and prepare to drop anchor; our trunks are in readiness,
and we expect soon to be transferred to the shore.
[Illustration: G. V. COOPER DEL.
ON STONE BY J. CAMERON
LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y.
PANAMA, FROM THE BATTERY.]
The city, nestling cosily at the base of Cerro Lancon, looks
enchantingly, her towers and domes being lighted up by the morning sun.
Her dilapidated monasteries are also seen, and her extended wall, the
base of which is washed by the gentle surf. That distant tower, shrouded
in ivy, dripping with the morning dew, seems weeping over the tomb of a
departed city. Everything conspired to awaken emotions of the most
romantic character. Our captain mounts the quarter deck and cries out,
“all hands on deck to work ship.” “Aye aye, sir.” “Clue up the mainsail”
“hard a-lee,” “main-topsail, haul;” “haul taut the weather main-braces;”
the ship comes about on the other tack. A boat nears us, “Stand by to
throw a rope;” a man comes on board; “bout ship,” “stand by the anchor,”
“haul down the jib;” mate heaves the lead and cries out, “four fathom o’
the deep ho!” “fore and main-sail, clue up.” We are now standing towards
the United States’ man-of-war Southampton. “Let go the mizen top-sail
braces,” “stand by,” “let go the anchor,” and at 9 A.M., our ship
rounded to and bowed submission to her chains. We are now at anchor five
miles from shore; a fleet of _bungoes_ are coming off for the
passengers, propelled by natives in their “dishabille;” all who are
able, are prepared to debark, but fourteen of our number are confined to
their berths in a helpless, and almost hopeless condition; my friend
Clark is one of the number; the scurvy has rendered his limbs entirely
useless, and there is no hope entertained of his recovery. We bade them
farewell, and started for the shore. We looked back at the ship, which
now presents the trim appearance of a ship close-reefed.
It being ebb-tide our boat went aground half a mile from the shore; our
boatmen, however, were prepared for the emergency, it being with them an
almost daily occurrence; they got out, backed up, and wished us to
mount. It was to me a novel way of riding. I had ridden “bare-backed,”
but always supported by a greater number of legs. After sundry stumbles
and plunges, which kept my clean shirt in imminent peril, I was safely
set down on shore, for which extra service my noble steed thought a
_real_ full compensation. I had my trunk carried to the Philadelphia
Hotel. I drank freely of wine and went out on the balcony, which extends
from the second story, to enjoy a cigar and my own thoughts. I soon
felt as happy as a man could well feel under the influence of the same
quantity of wine. I kept my eye on the table, dinner was in an advanced
state of preparation; and, dear reader, you will form some idea of the
voracity of my appetite when you reflect that I have not dined in
fifty-one days. I must claim your indulgence here, for I must confess I
am in doubt whether I am competent to write intelligibly; just on shore,
you know; and then, you know, the best of wine will sometimes lead one
astray; but dinner is ready, and who cares for public opinion when he
has enough to eat and _drink_. I sat at table as long as there was
anything visible, when I, very prudently, got up, lighted a cigar and
went out for a promenade. The wine was flowing briskly through my veins,
and I felt a healthful glow throughout my system. I felt that politeness
was the main ingredient in my composition, and was disposed to raise my
hat to every individual I met. I, however, restrained myself, and
bestowed my bows only upon the half-clad Señoritas.
Panama had become completely Americanized. There was the American Hotel,
the New York, the Philadelphia, the United States, the St. Charles,
Washington, &c., &c., and half the business in town was done by
Americans. After supper, we strolled to the “Battery,” seated ourselves
on a brass fifty-six, and viewed one of the most magnificent moon-light
scenes I ever beheld. The bay was as placid as a mirror; the ships lying
quietly at anchor, loomed up like phantoms; the islands being just
visible in the distance. Behind us was a ruined monastery, the moon
looking in at the roof and windows, disclosing the innumerable bats that
nightly congregate to gambol through these halls of desolation. After
spending an hour here, we passed through one of the dilapidated gateways
and took a surf bath; we reëntered through the gateway, and passed along
the wall to the convent of San Francisco, an immense structure covering
an area of 300 feet square: it is now untenanted, and in ruins. Near one
corner of this, standing in the street, is a stone pedestal surmounted
by a cross, where the devout are wont to kneel and kiss the image of
“Nuestro Señora.” Passing up the main street, “_Calle de Merced_,” we
found the citizens all out enjoying the evening; and as we passed we
could hear them modestly whisper, “Los Americanos tiene mucho oro;”
during the night we had the usual procession of nuns and priests, and
the next day was ushered in by the discordant clamor of church-bells. I
say this without reproach, for half the bells were cracked, (and it was
a great wonder they were not all so,) and every morning from daylight to
nine, they were undergoing the ordeal of a severe drubbing.